#pov you work at a hotel and start hearing concerning noises coming from a room

[mellow-is-liveblogging]

hey. hey im hyperfixating on dio and pucci so bad and i dont even know why but like scene. where dio tells pucci to leave the mansion bc he knows the crusaders r on their way there n doesnt want him to get hurt/killed like how it happened w the rest of his followers and. pucci doesnt want to leave bc he wants to help, hes not weak, he can help and. dio Knows That but what if something happens to pucci instead. so he just. reassures him that its going to be fine and has him move to a hotel room instead and. and then pucci hears nothing from dio anymore and he knows what happened but he still doesnt wanna believe it and keeps waiting. until he gets a call from one of the remaining followers.

#mellow.txt #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #dio brando #enrico pucci #do not tag as ship or i will personally show up at your house and break eggs into every single pair of shoes you own #stardust crusaders #jjba p3 #currently listening to various meme versions of two trucks to avoid crying while thinking ab it <3 #pov you work at a hotel and start hearing concerning noises coming from a room #and you walk in to find a 15 years old throwing a tantrum #and Oh My God Why Are The Walls Melting #mans just #absolutely hysterical #the most pained screams you will ever hear

[wormstacheangel]

Almost: Ch9 Epilogue

Summary: Castiel was moving on with his life. He is engaged to a man who loves him and has a semi-relationship with his family. Then his father dies and Cas has to go back to his hometown. It's fine. It's not like he would bump into the man he loved on his first day back and realize that - oh shit! He still loves him! Now what?

Note: This is all in Cas's POV so you will read some Cas/Mick stuff but don't worry it's still the happy ending we all wanted :)

Read the completed story on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice comment)

Word Count: 6063 More Under the Cut

Cas kicks the front door of his childhood home closed and drops back against it with a huff. He drops his head back and bangs his head against the hardwood for a few seconds before he hears steps walking towards him. He opens his eyes and sees it was Michael who was striding forward, a curious glare fixed upon him before he raised his eyebrows.

“Was that the hick’s car, Castiel?” Cas rolled his eyes as he pushed off the door and walked to shove the bags into Michael’s chest. He only laughed in response as he took the bags and ignored Cas’s shoulder shove. “You’ve only been here for one day and you’re already crawling back to those Winchester’s again.”

“I don’t see how that concerns you, Mike.” Cas didn’t look behind him as he walked up the stairs to his old bedroom. He needed to lie down.

“Well, Mick went out with Gabriel to go pick you up. Do you know Mick? The man you agreed to marry?”

Cas sighed as he gripped the stair banister before he turned to glare back at his older brother. “I know very well who I am engaged to. Thank you.”

Michael shrugged, a smirk on his face as he started to walk away. Cas tightens his hold on the banister as he fights his instinct to at least throw his shoe at his cocky brother. “Just didn’t want you to forget. Mick is a good man.”

“You mean because he comes from a good family?” Cas caught himself making air quotes again and quickly put his hands deep in his pockets.

“Exactly.” Michael disappeared around the corner and into the kitchen.

“You’re an ass! You know that!” The only response was a laugh and Cas stomped his way back up the stairs.

He’s almost 30! He should not be bullied by his older brothers but here he was. Slamming his bedroom door shut and quickly jumping into his old bed like good ol’ days. He laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling as he hugged a pillow to his chest.

Dean kissed him. He kissed Dean.

Cas’s fingers hovered over his lips as he sucked in a breath before he screamed into his pillow.

What the hell was he thinking kissing him? Fuck, it was good. It was so good. His heart hasn’t stopped racing since getting out of the car.

How many times has he just imagined being back in that car since he left? He hasn’t thought about it in a while but all those feelings just rushed him as soon as he saw Dean. In his stupid cute work overalls too! Messy hair and...No!

“Nope.” Cas sat up and patted his chest as if that would calm his heart up. “Stop. Stop.”

‘He’s already married, Castiel’ He thinks to himself before he pulls off his gloves to look upon his engagement ring.

They both moved on. Yeah. Yeah, so what if Dean says he loved him way back when? So what if Dean fucking Winchester just made out with him? Cas wasn’t going to break up a family just because he wants to kiss the guy.

‘Yeah! That’s it. It’s just the sexual tension.’ Cas tells himself as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Castiel?” Cas looks up as his door begins to open and Mick poked his head in. “Hey, sweetheart, did you actually walk all the way home?”

He closed the door behind him and walked to sit on the bed with Cas. His gentle fingers started to run through his hair and calm Cas’s mind. Yeah. he’s moved on. He shouldn't worry about it anymore. He has Mick now.

“Are you okay?” He hears Mick quietly ask before he leaves a small kiss on his temple. Cas melts into it.

“Yeah.” Cas sighed as he smiled at him. Thankfully Mick wasn’t the best at reading him so the guilt was easily hidden away. “I’m just tired.”

“You wanna head back to the hotel? You can nap there while I finish some work.”

Cas nodded a few times. Yeah, he shouldn't stay in his old room where most of the things in here were Dean’s. But there was something he had to do first.

Cas grabbed Mick’s face and kissed him. His fiance was shocked by the sudden kiss because that’s not who they are. Mick was so gentle with him. He was patient and waited for him even after two years of just being friends because Cas didn’t want to date anyone who was friends with his older brothers but Mick wasn’t anything like them. He was nice. He was kind.

And Cas hates himself for making excuses about why Dean’s kiss was better. It was because there was desperation. There was tension there. They haven't seen each other in years, of course, it’ll be hot but...this - with Mick - was nice .

When he pulled away Mick blinked at him a couple of times with blushed cheeks. “Wow. What was that for?”

Cas just shrugged. “I just missed you today. You’ve been with Gabriel all day.”

Mick nuzzled his nose against Cas’s own as he left a small peck on his lips. “Then I promise to be gone more often.”

“You better not.” Cas smiled and kissed the side of his mouth before he stood. “Come on. I wanna leave before Mike sends me another errand run.”

Mick wraps his arms around Cas’s waist as they start to walk out the door, his lips leaving little kisses at the back of his neck that did make his heart race. Cas loves him. There is no doubt about that or about Mick’s love for him so he shouldn’t think about Dean again.

He hasn’t done so in years! So it should be easy to push him deep into his mind again.

It’s not like those green eyes and cute little smirk has any effect on him. Nope.

They walked down the stairs and to the kitchen where all the noise was coming from. He walked in to see - with no surprise - Mike and Luci arguing about something that Raphael probably said. Judging by that sly leer he had across his face. Gabriel was in the middle trying to calm them down while Anna was nowhere to be found again.

“We’re leaving!” Castiel calls out over their screams. As soon as he had their attention he cleared his throat as he lowered his voice. “We will see you at the funeral tomorrow.”

“Wait. Castiel?” Cas froze - a damn chill went up his spine - when Michael called out for him. “Are you going to need a ride?”

Oh. He was being nice. “Um, no. Mick rented a car.”

“Oh good!” Michael walked over to him and there was a flash of something malicious on his face. Fuck, he fell into a trap. “I could have called Dean for you.”

Cas could feel his ears heat up. “That won’t be necessary.” He hissed between his teeth.

“You sure, Cassie?” Luci - of course piggybacking from Michael - walked to tower over him.

Cas turned towards Mick. “How about you go and warm up the car and I’ll be out in a few?”

Mick squeezed his hand but nodded. He wished everyone goodnight and it wasn’t until they all heard the front door slam closed that were all screaming at each other.

“I said mind your own fucking business, Michael! Just because you are divorced that does not mean you have to make all of us sad and single!” Castiel shoves at his brother.

Gabriel was quick to step between them when Mike lifted his arm to lay a punch on him. He instantly calmed down when Gabe pushed him back. “Okay! We’re stopping this! Do you think Dad would want us to show up to a public event bruised up?”

No. It wasn’t ‘Do you think Dad would want us fighting?’ because they were all always fighting. It was all his family did. It was all his father did.  As long as their image to the outside world is fine then they can cut each other’s throat all they want.

They all immediately backed away from each other.

“Fine.” Mike fixed his tie. “It’s not like we’re going to see that Winchester again.”

“He’s going to the funeral.” Cas turned to walk away not caring enough to see their expressions. “And you better not fucking bother him or his family tomorrow!” Cas opened the front door. “Goodbye!”

-

‘So we’re not going to be adults about this.’ Cas thought as he watched Dean and his family walk away.

He felt Mick kiss his cheek as he squeezed him closer. “So that’s Dean. He seems... nice .”

Cas heard something off in his voice and he felt that annoyance bubble in him but he cleared his throat, shaking his head, before letting it rest down on Mick’s shoulder. He knows he was just getting too protective of Dean, the same feeling he has always felt since meeting him at 14 years old.

“He is.” Cas can hear the stiffness in his voice. “Um, you go sit down. I’m gonna go look for Gabriel.”

“You sure?” Mick gently tilts his head so Cas had to look at him. “You look a little shaken up.”

Mick leans in to give him a kiss but Cas ducks his head. His lips pressing against his hair. “I’m fine. Nobody here really misses my Dad.” Cas chuckles, it was cold and that only made Mick look at him with rounder eyes. “Save me a seat, okay?”

Mick’s only response was a stiff nod while Cas leaves the entrance to walk to the back offices where his siblings have been hiding the whole time. None of them wanted to go speak to their extended family but instead, they found it more important to practice their speeches for when they had to go up and pretend to be a perfect child to the perfect father. Cas was quick to deny making a speech along with Gabriel.

“The place is as full as it could be.” Cas announced as he walked in, dropping a kiss on Anna’s cheek when he saw her. “Where have you been?”

“The further I am from all of you the more I feel like I keep my brain cells.” She quickly and easily answered.

“Fair enough.” Cas smiled back at her before he went to sit beside Gabriel.

“Not a dry eye in the house I assume.” Raphael comments and they all chuckled. It was dry and humorless. The air was still calm around them. Nobody has raised their voice all day. Maybe their father’s death hitting them differently. They weren’t sad. No. It almost felt like they were all disappointed.

Maybe all for different reasons.

Cas was sure disappointed that the man decided to die before they could work things out. But of course, Chuck’s anger would take a hold of his heart and end up killing him. Kinda left Cas feeling stupid for even caring about him but tears have not shed.

Not from the guest. Not from his siblings. Not from him.

Cas spent the rest of the funeral sitting beside Mick trying not to roll his eyes at the melodramatic way his siblings were all acting.

When the whole thing was over Cas sent Mick to their house because he wasn’t allowed to the burial per their father’s request. His siblings were already gone to wait in their cars but Cas stayed behind to make sure everything was running smoothly.

“We’re ready to take your father to the car.” A funeral service worker told him and Cas was ready to just nod and let him get on with it but something stopped him.

“Um, can you give me a few minutes?” Castiel asked him but didn’t wait for a response, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes cause that’s not what he deserved.

Cas walked over to the casket knowing he didn’t miss his father. No. He missed the father who he wished he had. A father who rarely showed himself to him. In birthday letters with money inside, even after he moved away and was cut off. In random books being delivered to his door all year round by someone unknown but knowing it was his father because the book was used with little notes written on the margins and the bookmark was still between the pages. A leaf or another piece of trash stuck between them.

He didn’t understand his father but he… but he really fucking wished he had more time to do so.

“Cas?” He heard his name being called and he turned just slightly to see who the faraway voice belonged to. Oh. Dean.

Next thing Cas knew, his face was being gently cradled in Dean’s big rough hands. Eyes soft and warm as he stared back at him. Cas thought that he was okay but then he heard Dean ask, “Hey. Hey, Cas, it’s okay.”

And that’s when Cas realized that it wasn’t. No. He wasn’t okay. This whole situation wasn’t okay.

And Dean let him cry. He let him cry and didn’t mock him for feeling anything but anger towards his father. Dean held him and heard him. He understood. Like he always has.

And he’s gonna see him later.

Before going back to face his siblings Cas quickly goes to the bathroom to splash water on his face. He can’t look like he was crying. His brothers will give him no mercy.

-

The house was filled to the brim but Sam was easy enough to spot. He was with Charlie and Balthazar in the backyard. There was a big group of them laughing over something but Cas didn’t see Dean in the crowd.

He didn’t know what switched in his head but as soon as the burial was over and Cas got in his car he couldn’t wait to go home. To see Dean. To be in his arms and just be held. He knows it’s wrong. He knows but a hug is nothing but innocent.

“Sam,” Cas pulls at Sam’s arm. “Where’s your brother?”

“Oh, um,” Sam looked over the crowd and was about to shrug with a small pout when Charlie grabbed his attention.

“He went upstairs. Said he wanted some peace and quiet.” She tells him and Cas smiles a thank you to them before quickly walking over.

He took the steps two at a time knowing where Dean would be. The only place Dean would feel comfortable in this entire house.

As soon as he opened his bedroom door and saw Dean - looking beautiful and bright - he felt relief crash over him like a beach wave.

“Dean.” He wasn’t sure if he said his name out loud but he could feel the tremble on his lower lip when he spoke it.

Cas could feel the heavyweight on his shoulders lift away just by the sight of his old best friend. He knew these were all dangerous feelings but if he made enough excuses for them then it was okay. It was okay if he felt like he was floating when he finally made his way to Dean and then their bodies were pressed against each other.

Cas clung to his warmth, breathing in his scent of motor oil and cologne that lingered on his skin. He heard a giggle that shook through his chest and realized it was his.

Wow. He really wanted this. Needed this. Dean.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” He heard himself admit. And the truth hits him as well. He figured Dean would be angry with him. For him to be as dead to Dean as his father was but no. No, Dean was kind.

He said he loved Cas way back then. He kissed him back. Held him as he has always dreamt of being held by Dean but...but-

“Wow! Am I getting one of those hugs too, sweetheart?”

Mick .

Cas can feel his body stiffen and go cold because he has been caught. Oh, it’s gonna become a talk. He already knew it.  

What can he say this time?

That he couldn’t feel like he could breathe until he was in Dean’s arms? Wait - Cas turned to look at his fiance smiling at him. Yeah, he was a little mad. The strain in his eyes was clearly visible. Then Cas turned to look at Dean and before he could ask Dean answered his silent question.

Of course, he would understand.

Then before he said goodbye to Dean he had to give him his number. He dug through his drawers and ripped a piece from an old notebook to write his number. Then he drew a happy face to reassure Dean that he can call him. Text him. Just talk to him.

The kiss he left on Dean’s cheek was just as unexpected to him as it was to Dean. But his lips tingle the whole night.

Even when Mick lectured him about getting close with Dean again. He started to feel guilt eat at him when he kissed Mick to reassure him but his mind flew to Dean. And he knew - fuck he knew- he was screwed.

-

Dean sent a heart. A heart!

Cas's own heart threatened to leap out of his chest but before he could respond Mick walked back into the room. In nothing more than pajama bottoms and a towel over his head.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Mick crawled over to him and pressed a kiss at the base of his neck.

“Well, now I’m looking at just you.” Cas turned his phone off and wrapped his arms around his fiance. “You had a good shower?”

“Would have been better with you.” He kissed him and Cas laughed before kissing him back.

“Too tired.” Cas told him as he nuzzled his nose against Mick’s skin. “Distract me? A lot...a lot happened today.”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

And they got comfortable and talked all through the night. Passing out over the covers.

Cas’s last words before he fell asleep were, “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.” He kissed the top of Cas’s head.

Cas decided he’ll delete the conversation in the morning. That his dumb crush on Dean was not worth losing this. Losing Mick.

-

Cas didn’t think he would end up bruised and beaten by the hands of his brothers again. No. He figured the will reading will be as calm as the funeral and the burial but as soon as the lawyer told them that Dean was getting most of the money he should have known. He should have protected him better.

Dean dragged Cas to the bathroom after everything was over. Throughout the whole reading he kept fussing over him and as much as he loved Dean’s gentle touches - and he kept burning him with them - he was getting annoyed because his brothers kept glaring at them.

“You’re so stupid. You shouldn't have hit him back. You dumb fucking hothead.” Cas was leaning against the sink as Dean wiped his eye where it stung with blood. “Stand still!”

“No! It hurts, asshole!”

“Don’t be a baby.”

Cas rolled his eyes but tried not to twitch his face as Dean cleans him up.

“There you two are!” They heard Bobby call out to them and walk into the bathroom to give them a few bandaids and one ice pack. “You two head out. I’m gonna get a ride with Gabriel. Still got a few things to get through here and I don’t want your dramatic dumbasses getting me kicked out.”

So they left and Cas was too frustrated to do anything but listen to the familiar music. Feel the familiar vibration of the engine underneath him and just feel at peace once again. Feeling like finally - fucking finally - he was where he belonged.

So when the music started to end he got nervous. He didn’t want to leave this car just yet. He can’t handle the real world right now. Everything is different now. He had no money now. His siblings were mad at him for once again picking Dean over them. Because he always had.

Fuck, he was glad Mick wasn’t making him choose because he was afraid he'd know the answer.

If he can just have Dean next to him. Like this. As a friend and nothing more. Then he can live like that.

But now, one second he was laughing and the next Dean's face was practically on his. Heavy breaths mixing and their body heat warming the car even more.

He was gonna kiss him! Dean was going to kiss him again! No. No. He’s married! He has someone and Cas has someone! No. Fuck his stomach hurts but his eyes were closing.

Cas hummed in response to Dean calling his name. His head couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted Dean to just call his name from now on. Wanted Dean to be his. Wanted Dean.

But Dean won’t kiss him. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me!

He was holding him so desperately but Dean was still hesitant. And Cas wasn’t willing to close the gap because Dean kissing him was different than Cas kissing him. But he wanted him again.

“Dean.” Gosh, he sounded so pathetic. Like he was praying to him.

He moved a little closer and accidentally brushed their lips together and Cas knew he couldn’t wait any longer. His whole body heated up at the slight brush. Then Dean made a whimpering noise and Cas’s whole mind went blank.

Did...Did Dean sound like that? He wanted to hear more.

Cas couldn’t think of the damn consequences anymore. He didn’t care when he could have Dean right now. He was pathetic and crumbling right in front of Dean.

Then a loud bang flipped the switch back on in his head and made Cas jump away from Dean’s touch.

No. No. No.

Cas turned to see Mick standing outside the door and he didn’t think of Dean as he scrambled out of the car to see his fiance’s heartbroken expression. Anger was already there but then it faded to concern.

“Can we talk inside?” Cas could hear his shaking voice but Mick took his hand to lead him away from the car.

Away from the closest he has ever felt to home. Where he felt like he belonged. In that car. Sitting passenger side with Dean Winchester beside him.

Now Cas was sitting at the edge of his bed watching his fiance pace in front of him. Quietly fuming because Mick was nothing like Castiel.

Mick doesn’t yell. Mick doesn’t throw punches. Mick doesn’t fight. He’s patient and kind and that’s why Cas fell in love with him in the first place.

But right now Cas wished he would yell at him. Fight for them.

“So, what? Are you just going to...what?” Mick asked because of course, he wanted to know what Cas wanted. “Do you want to break up?”

Cas let the tears burn his eyes as he looked down at the ground with a heavy shrug. “I don’t deserve you, Mick. I always knew that.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Mick took Cas’s face in his hands and it was soft. “I’m asking you what you want. Do you want me?”

Cas nodded as he reached to grip Mick’s shirt with his bruised hands.

Then Mick sucked in a shaky breath before he said the most surprising thing. “Then that’s all I need to know.”

Cas blinked up at him. “But...but-”

“If you still want me then I’m here for you, Castiel.”

“Why? Why are you...Why are you being nice to me? You should be mad! Fuck, I’m mad!” Cas gripped at him and pulled him forward until Mick was sitting practically on Cas’s lap. “I almost kissed - I kissed someone else!”

“I knew it would be hard for you to see Dean again. You loved him. He’s the reason why you kept breaking up with me in the beginning. He was...he was your first love.”

“Stop being so nice.”

“No. You deserve nice.” Mick wrapped him in a hug as Cas hid his face into Mick’s shoulder. “I love you, Castiel. And I know you love me. Maybe...maybe tomorrow we can finish the paperwork and head home.”

Home . No, he’s not going home but it’s as close as he’ll get.

Cas doesn’t say another word. He only cries while Mick holds him.

-

“We can just leave. You don’t have to say goodbye to him, Castiel.” Mick brushed his fingers on Cas’s cheek to reassure him.

“I can’t do that to him again, Mick. But you’re right. I’m just gonna say goodbye and it’s gonna be a fresh start for us. No more Dean. He has a life and family to think about and I have mine.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t want to be a homewrecker.” Cas laughed, it was cold again.

“Castiel.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go.”

-

“Castiel,” Mick huffed as Sam finally dropped his arm around him. “Your friend wasn’t letting me through. Are you ready to go home?”

Home .

Cas twirled his engagement ring in his finger and he let out a shaky laugh because he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. Again.

“I am home, Mick.” Cas sighed as he finally felt like he could say what he wanted. He was free, to be honest with himself and with everyone else. “I’m sorry.”

Mick’s face drops and Cas wants to take him in his arms but he stops himself.

“So,” Mick cleared his throat. Eyes watering as he looked Cas over. “You’re staying?”

Cas nodded before he slipped the ring off his finger and gave it back to him. Closing Mick’s palm over the beautiful metal ring.

“I love you.” Mick tells him, so quietly and broken that Cas's own heart calls out to him.

“Me too.”

“But it’s not enough?”

“I’m sorry. I just… I love him more. I always have.”

“I know.” He says it so quietly while he stuffs the ring in his pocket. He sniffles just a little and then Sam was patting Mick’s back.

“Um, Sam?” Sam turns to awkwardly look at Cas. “Take care of him? I’m just gonna go-”

“Sure, man.” Sam smiled with his lips pressed together.

“Don’t worry, McDreamy, we’ll take care of your um...Mick here!” Charlie winked at him and Cas thanked them before he quickly went back to Dean.

Went back home.

-

Cas knew this morning was different. He could feel it in his bones and by the way, his skin warmed against the rising sunbeams that shined through the window. Today was a new day. A new start.

Starting with the new person - old friend but new future - who was heavily draped on top of him. And not to mention drooling on his chest.

Cas rubbed his eyes, slowly moving as to not wake up the sleeping Dean, to admire his new - they haven’t gone through specifics but Cas would like to say - boyfriend. He won’t say it out loud. Not until Dean mentions it but he would think it.

Mick was never much of a cuddler. They slept on their side of the bed and that was always okay with Cas. Especially when he got a whole blanket to himself but with Dean, he really didn’t need a blanket. His body heat was enough to keep him warm through the night.

They must have fallen asleep talking last night - well they were doing more than talking but talking took priority - as they were still in their clothes from the day before. Cas just realized that he’ll have to face Mick to get his stuff from their apartment in California. He starts to make a list of things he wanted and if it was even worth the hassle or he could let Mick just throw it away.

But he wanted his books.

“A little higher.” Dean hummed in his sleep, nuzzling his face into Cas’s chest with a sleepy grin, and Cas looked down to realize that he absentmindedly started to rake his fingers through Dean’s hair. Cas did what he was told with a happy grin and watched as Dean threw a leg in between Cas’s own to cling tighter around him. “That’s the stuff.”

Cas couldn’t help the silent chuckle that shook through him and the blush that rose when Dean pressed a kiss to his chest.

“Are you awake now?” Cas used his free hand to run down Dean’s back. “I kinda wanna shower and change out of-”

“No.” Dean clung to him more. Like a stubborn child and man, how could Cas ever believe he could live without him. “Sleep still.”

“Dean, you have a meeting to go to. And I would like to pick up my inheritance as well.”

Dean sighed and pushed himself a little higher so he could look down at Cas with a grumpy pout. “Do you only want me for my money now?”

“Of course. I’m poor now and I need you to take care of me.” Cas grinned up at him as Dean rolled his eyes but slowly leaned down for a kiss. Almost as if checking to see if it was still okay. If it was the right thing to do but Cas stretched his neck up to close the gap between them.

Kissing Dean first thing in the morning is in Cas’s to-do list for the rest of his existence.

A few sleepy kisses, a lot of soft laughter, and an awkward toy left in the shower later they were finally dressed and ready for the day. Luckily, Charlie was kind enough to bring Cas’s suitcase back to him so he had some of his clothes at least.

“You look too nice, too fucking proper, to walk around with me.” Dean commented as they walked down to the car hand in hand. Maybe they were both blushing too but Cas is trying to ignore that part.

“I don’t even know what that means.” Cas rolled his eyes as he leaned into Dean’s shoulder. “I like what you’re wearing. You look...um shit - nice.”

“I look shit nice?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him as Cas cleared his throat.

“Well, if you must know I was thinking that you look hot as fuck, like a dumb lumberjack but I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to say that shit yet.” Cas didn’t dare turn to meet Dean’s grinning - stupidly teasing - expression.

“You think I’m dumb?” Dean teased and Cas had to fight back a groan because he knew what was coming out of his mouth next. “Cause If I remember correctly-”

“Dean.”

“I’m pretty sure I got the higher grades between the both of us.”

“Dean.”

“And the higher GPA!”

“I can’t believe I chose to deal with this for the rest of my life.” Dean stopped short and Cas looked at him confused. “What? Did you forget your keys?”

Dean’s expression softened as he carefully reached to cradle the back of Cas’s neck and leave a soft kiss. “I can’t wait to deal with you for the rest of my life too.”

“Oh.” Cas felt himself grin as his body shivered in anticipation for the next kiss Dean gave him. Yeah, he loved this man so much it ached.

Of course, dealing with his siblings wasn’t going to be easy. Especially when they were all pro-Mick and anti-Dean. Now more than ever. But Dean went with him to pick up his inheritance from the family house and even pack up his room because Michael got the house and he was sure he wanted everyone out.

“You sure you want to do this right now while everyone is home?” Dean asked as he followed behind Cas. “We couldn’t wait until like a week later?”

“No. I’m afraid they will destroy my books.” It’s all he had of his fucked up father and he wasn’t going to lose them.

Cas didn’t even bother knocking as he unlocked the door and marched right in. He was going to go straight to the study when he heard his name being called.

“Gabriel.” Cas sighed in relief. “I’m...I’m just here-”

“Mick called.” Gabriel started as he stopped a few steps away from them. Cas couldn’t read his brother's expression besides confusion but Cas was ready for whatever screaming match was about to happen. “He told us you ended things. What...What happened?”

Gabriel knew the answer already. Dean was standing right beside him, probably awkwardly scratching the back of his neck or twitching.

“I did.” Cas answered not saying anymore as he saw Gabriel’s anger slowly rise.

“Castiel! You can’t just-!”

“Gabriel, I didn’t come here to fight!”

“We are not fighting! We are discussing!” Gabriel turns his glare on Dean. “And what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Gabriel,” Cas warned.

“No! Tell me! Why does a married man want to ruin my little brother's life?! What the-the wife not doing it for you anymore?”

Dean shakes his head. “I’m not married.”

“What?” Gabriel blinks at him before looking at Cas for confirmation.

“Yeah, turns out he’s not actually married and Dad lied to me.”

“Shocker.” Dean and Cas both say at the same time.

Explaining to Gabriel was easy enough. Explaining it again when the rest of his siblings kept pouring in was...harder. Considering they are looking at the guy that took most of their Dad’s money. But in an odd turn of events, there was no yelling.

They talked. They asked questions and Cas learned that it wasn’t just him that lied to.

-

“Ah, there you are.” Cas looked up from where he was sitting in his father’s - nope now it was Michael’s - office and was greeted with a kiss. “You’re supposed to be packing.”

Cas held the book up at him. “I found another book where Dad left me notes to read.”

He closed the book with the same dried up lavender flowers that Chuck used.

“Can’t believe the books are all the old man left you.” Dean sat on Cas’s lap as soon as Cas put his book down. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and pressed his nose against Dean’s cheek before he kissed it.

“It’s the only thing we had in common. I’m not surprised.”

“Babe, you didn’t get the house. Didn’t get any money. Or the damn business. What did you get?”

“I got a rich boyfriend.” Cas grins at him and that makes his boyfriend laugh. Cas loves that laugh and relaxes at the sound of it. “And I get to read words my Dad never said out loud to me.”

“What did he say in this one?”

Cas spent a few minutes reading passages of his book to Dean with his father’s comments. Yes, they were both angry that his father lied to them and kept them apart but sometimes they just have to let the anger go. Chuck was gone. They were free now. They were together and they weren’t gonna waste another second with that ugly feeling.

Especially when he could make out with his boyfriend in his old office like a couple of sneaky teenagers.

“Hey!” They both quickly turned to the doorway to see Gabriel with Sam and Charlie grinning behind him. “I’m paying you to work! Not kiss!”

Sam looks down at Gabriel. “You’re paying them? What the hell, Gabriel?”

They walk away arguing while Cas turned to give Dean another kiss. “We should get back to work before Michael comes back. Just cause he likes you now doesn’t mean he will be any nicer.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean got off of Cas’s lap and quickly helps him stand to pull Cas into his arms. “I love you.”

Cas holds him just as close. A smile on his lips as he stares at his beautiful boyfriend’s freckled face. In disbelief that he can finally say this. Finally, have this. Have him. “I love you.”

Dean kisses him softly before patting Cas’s ass - making Cas open his eyes mid-kiss and roll them - and pulling away. “Okay! Now let’s get your pretty books packed so we can head home!”

Yeah, Cas made the right decision.

#im sleepy so i won't edit thing...maybe read it on ao3 instead #thank you all for reading! #Destiel #Deancas #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #My Writing #WormstacheWrites

[lightsinthedistancee]

How To Disappear, Part 2: Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: “He likes to believe that you’d slipped from his grasp, lost in the flurry and obstacles of a Galactic-wide war, as quick and as natural as leaves scattered to the wind.”

“But he knows that’s not true.”

Poe deals with the aftermath of his and Reader’s relationship, as well as who he is.

Warnings: Profanity

A/N: This is the second part to my work ‘How To Disappear’ from Poe’s POV. It’s a second part, not a chapter, so there isn’t necessarily a complex narrative connection, so you don’t really need to read the first part to understand this. However, there are some connections, so you can read that first part here, if you want.

34 ABY, Four Years Earlier Than Present, Resistance Base, D’Qar

“Poe. Calm down.”

He can sense you standing a few feet away from him, your figure tense and tentative, a silhouette against the softly lit night outside.

There is too much surrounding him. Too many blaster shots, too many roaring ships, too many bangs. All encapsulated within his mind in the middle of a silent room.

The overstimulation of his senses nearly makes him want to whimper, makes him want to scream. But he suppresses it. He buries his head in his hands, and grips and squeezes and tugs in an effort to ward off the feeling.

“Poe.” Your voice sounds as if you’re at the end of a tunnel. “Poe, can I touch you?”

He’s not sure if he nods or not, but he feels your fingertips all of a sudden, making him flinch back.

“It’s just me,” you murmur. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes remain clamped shut as memories of blood and death and pain run through his mind.

“Poe, I want you to nod if you can hear me. Can you do that?”

Your voice is soft, gentle, like you’re talking to someone wounded. He fights something mechanical in his head in order to make his body respond to his brain, to make his chin bob up and down once.

“Good. Can you open your eyes for me?”

He doesn’t want to. Maybe it’s the darkness that’s allowing his flashback to be expressed with an acute vividness. Maybe it is the opposite: that when he opens his eyes, everything he is imagining will be there in front of him.

But he fights that too. And with a seemingly tremendous effort, his eyes snap open, exposing the warm brown to the room.

It is just a room. No carnage. No ruins. But he can still hear sounds. Perhaps if he sinks down into himself far enough, he can see a corpse in the corner, a discarded blaster on the ground.

“Tell me some things you see, love,” you murmur. “A few.”

His breath shakes as his eyes scan the room. You lean against him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “A brown chest of drawers.” He takes in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “The door. My boots. My traveling bag.”

“Now something you can hear.”

“Wind.” An eerie howling. A roar of a ship that he tries to shake from his head. “Cicadas.” A constant chirp that reminds him of the outdoors, of lushness and life. “Water running through pipes.”

As he takes more deep breaths, reality seems to cement itself once more. Excess noise ceases, returning to its most basic form. Nature, structure, and life.

He finally tilts his head up, catching sight of himself in the full-length mirror across the room. He is hunched over, sweating, trembling. Pathetic. You beside him, looking down at him in concern.

And all of a sudden, without warning, one thing floods his mind, invades his thoughts: humiliation.

The thought of himself—a Commander who’d led forces into war—shrunken down makes shame wash over him.

Your hands feel too much like a pity as he imagines nonexistent condemning thoughts going through your head.

“Get off,” he hisses, jerking away in an instinctive response, and you’re forced to rest a hand on the bed in order to steady yourself.

Your eyes widen as he walks towards the door. “Poe, where are you—“

“I don’t know.” And he’s gone.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present, 37 ABY, Galactic City, Coruscant

Soft skin, soft hair, and a presence too soft to even remotely entice him.

That is all Poe knows of the unfamiliar girl who lies asleep next to him in the unfamiliar hotel room, her bare back exposed to the cool air.

His head throbs, an inevitable repercussion to his drunkenness the night before. Too many drinks and too many flirtations, he thinks, turning over to get a thorough look at his bedmate, a look not constantly interrupted by desperate kisses and touches, not hindered by darkness.

His first thought is that she vaguely looks like you. Same color of irises, same figure, same color of locks. But perhaps her skin is a little smoother, her hair a little softer, her lips a little fuller—differences so numerous that perhaps, to the objective viewer, she is almost an “upgrade.”

But she is not you.

Personality aside, you would not be lying next to him. You would not be on the other side of the bed instead of nestled in his arms. You would not still be there, letting him feel you in the most intimate way possible.

As he stares at the ceiling and ponders why exactly his mind has chosen to relive that memory of you in particular, he mulls over a single idea stained with guilt: he was the one who had broken you to pieces.

But does that really matter anymore?, he wonders.

He tilts his head to the side, Galactic City greeting him cheerfully through the window. Sunny and busy and alive. He knows you’re out there somewhere, somewhere among all the buildings.

The end of the war had brought a re-established New Republic to the Galaxy. The Senate and court had gone to Coruscant. The military had gone to Chandrila.

But Poe is far from Chandrila’s Hanna City—perhaps still close, for he is still in the Core, but nonetheless, he is millions of miles apart from his duty and home. This is not his element. This place is a land of lying politicians, a land of organization that pales in comparison to the militaristic uniformity he is accustomed to. All he wants to do is get out.

But today is supposed to be a happy day. Today is when the spoils of war are supposed to truly be reaped. Today is the trial of one General Armitage Hux.

Despite having traveled the distance already, a small part of Poe does not want to go. He knows that you’ll be there. His reluctance isn’t even due to the awkwardness that will arise—it’s from the impending pain that he knows will come.

Seeing your face. Hearing your voice. Being forced to have an actual conversation with you.

He knows that looking into your eyes will only be an agonizing reminder of the night that had made everything between the two of you go up in flames and fall back to the ground in ashes.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

35 ABY, Two Years Earlier Than Present, Resistance Base, Ajan Kloss

“What is your problem?” Your voice is raised, your form tense.

He watches from the window, where his eyes trace the horizon. For a second, he cannot even remember what he’d said. When he does, even then, he is unsure if his memory is correct. It was certainly something incendiary…something mean.

He is even unsure of how the two of you got here. Maybe you’d said something about him needing to see a therapist or something about how self-destructive he was. Everything—the minutes, the days, the words, the touches, the fights—it all blends into one now.

You’re talking on, but he isn’t listening. He can feel your presence emitting fury, but something within him stops himself from paying you any attention. Deep down, or perhaps maybe somewhere just below the surface, he knows that you deserve his attention, his love, his patience, for even when the explosive fights occur, and he drives you away in tears, you still return to him.

“Poe!”

The yell snaps him out of his haze, and you’re standing closer to him, arms cross. Eyes hard, but bottom lip trembling. He sees recognition cross your face as it hits you that he hadn’t heard a word of your speech.

You shake your head, a bitter laugh leaving your lips.

“Do you even give a shit anymore?” you ask. “About any of this?” You gesture to the two of you. “Or are you just going to wallow the rest of your goddamn life away in self-pity, hurting yourself because you won’t get help?”

“I don’t want help.” His voice comes out flat, emotionally over any feelings your fights with him elicit.

“Yeah? You don’t?” Your tone takes on one a of a venomous mockery. “You’re just going to keep hurting everyone around you like a spoiled child?”

At that, his head snaps up, feeling the urge to throw something, to hit something, something close to him, something—

He stops the thought, wisely opting for the verbal approach instead and suddenly turning around. The top of your head barely comes to his eyes. “Do. Not. Accuse me of hurting people around me.”

You stand your ground, daringly pulling the figurative strings between the two of you tighter and tighter. “You don’t see that you’re hurting me?”

“I think it’s you who starts the predicaments that hurt yourself.”

At his words, he watches as your eyes widen at the coldness, as your fist clenches so hard that your arms shake. If you’d been angry before, it is nothing compared to now. “I’ve been nothing but patient with you, Dameron.” Your voice is shrill and uncontrolled, several pitches higher than usual. “Nothing but there for you. And I think it’s borderline maniacal that you don’t realize that you treat me like shit!”

His jaw clenches, his knuckles turning white as he grips the windowsill. When he speaks, it’s a yell, his deep voice booming in the small rom. “Well if you don’t like, then fucking leave!”

You stare at him a moment, your form relaxing into something more reminiscent of defeat. “Alright.”

And then you’re gone, never to return to him.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present, 37 ABY, Galactic City, Coruscant

He groans as he carefully rolls out of the bed, getting dressed. The unfamiliar woman shifts at his action, groaning softly as she wakes.

“Hey,” she mumbles, watching him from the covers. His eyes catch on her, and Poe doesn’t even notice he has frozen until she gives him a weird look.

She looks too much like you. He’d noticed the similarities earlier, but now, he can’t stop seeing them. Maybe the similarities were the reason his drunken mind had chosen her in particular the night before, but now, he just wants her out of his sight.

“Hey,” he finally replies, a small, forced smile on his face. He very obviously glances down at his watch, muttering something about how he has to be somewhere—he doesn’t—but he needs out.

So he says a quick farewell, walking out the door before she can say another word.

As he rushes down through the lobby, a quick glance at his watch serves as a reminder for why he’d gotten so drunk the night before in the first place. It is an anniversary.

It was three years ago that the Resistance’s D’Qar base had been annihilated, that he’d single-handedly taken on a dreadnought, a small part of him hoping that he’d fail and go up in a ball of flames, that he’d put a blaster in his mouth, contemplating whether or not to pull the trigger.

He stops at a café on a whim, ordering some caf and sitting on the rooftop deck, looking out over the city. It’s a place that had filled him with so much wonder as kid. The sheer size of it compared to his Yavin IV colony had been almost too much for his young brain to comprehend. The million of ships had dazzled and overwhelmed even his wildest dreams. So as he sits there, he knows that he should be appreciating it more than he is.

But all the city does is remind him of you, and part of him wants to curse you out for ruining it for him. But he knows it’s not your fault. It is his. Most of it is.

It was also six years ago that he’d had his first major falling out with you. Although your relationship had hobbled on another year, that falling out was when it truly died. When he’d thrown that glass against the wall with a loud shattering noise, releasing his anger and fear in violence. You’d been scared. Terrified. Of him.

And the look on your face had broken him.

You could snap me like a fucking twig if you wanted to.

Those had been your words when you’d sobbed in his arms a day later over a discussion of that event. Perhaps the statement could’ve been an exaggeration, but in a situation with no weapons nor surprise to your advantage, maybe it could’ve been a truth.

He sighs, doing the one thing he does best: diverting his attention. He pulls a notebook out of his bag, opening it up to a complicated, increasingly messy diagram of the last remaining First Order stronghold in the Outer Room, littered with X’s, corrections, and annotations.

This stronghold had been the subject of the main strategy room back on Chandrila for months now. Seemingly impenetrable, complex beyond belief based on their sparse reconnaissance reports, both in structure and the terrain surrounding it. Dense foliage ruling out an air attack, ships posing too much of a risk risk of hitting the surrounding labor encampments. In short, it’s a headache.

He goes through two cups of caf as he thinks and strategizes, using up the time before the trial. And when that time comes, Poe takes a deep breath, his hand clenching into a fist as he stands.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present (Cont.), Galactic Court, Galactic City, Coruscant

Poe had decidedly arrived at the trial twenty minutes late, missing the reading of Hux’s extensive list of crimes that he simultaneously does and does not want to hear in full. His reason for being late had succeeded. He didn’t even have to make eye contact with you.

The trial had been a success. Life in prison for the General. Poe is on a mental high as he walks through the halls of the ornate court building, it’s structure unmarred by war, unlike many of the buildings surrounding it. The war had been won two years ago. Countless lesser generals and colonels had already been convicted before the overwhelmed judiciary had gotten to Hux. But Poe did not fully believe that victory had truly been won—until today, when Hux had officially been brought to his knees.

Poe finally arrives in an empty hallway, leaning against the wall, letting out a deep breath as a bright smile plays out across his face. All of the pain, all of the suffering, all of the danger—it had all led to this, where the last remaining First Order higher-up had been put behind bars for life.

But as Poe thinks, a small component of the soft bustle in the distance begins to approach him in the form of voices, ones he can’t help but listen to.

“This blouse fucking itches.”

“Hmm…all the more excuse for me to get it off you when we get back to the hotel.”

A cross between a gasp and a laugh. “Don’t speak so loud! There are people—“

When Poe hears the familiar voice engaged in a rather suggestive conversation, it is too late to move and make a run for it, for he recognizes the voice. His mind doesn’t have long to linger on your counterpart’s words when he comes face-to-face with you.

It is certainly a situation where one could mutter a quick apology and keep walking, but the past dredges up an instinct to halt, to fully take into account the person standing opposite from him.

The sight of you takes his mind off the whole conversation. You look identical to the woman that had left him long ago.

The both of you had frozen, staring at the other. “Hey,” Poe finally chokes out.

Your companion is the lawyer from the courtroom who’d represented the state, looking very confused at the hesitant, frozen reaction you and Poe had had upon the sight of one another.

“Hey,” you whisper, barely audible.

The lawyer blinks, glancing at you when you throw him a look. “I…umm…left something in the courtroom. I’ll be right back.”

And then it is only the two of you once again.

“How are you?” You offer him a small smile, pulling the coat tighter around you.

“I’m…I’m well,” Poe says, scrambling for words. “You…you look well…and happy.”

It is the first conversation the two of you have had since the screaming match that had ended it all nearly two years ago.

“I am,” you simply say. “Much more so than before.”

Although the ‘before’ is never specified, he knows what you’re talking about.

“Haven’t seen you around Coruscant lately,” you continue, shifting uncomfortably in place. Even though there were a trillion beings on the planet, the circle of those in government was small, especially those tasked with rebuilding the galaxy.

“I stuck with the military. Been out on Chandrila.” A small pause. “I see you made your way into politics.”

You nod. “I have.” Your gaze flicks to the ground for a moment before resettling on his face with a seemingly newfound focus. “It’s a shame you’re not in Galactic City for good, Dameron. You’ve always been a good leader. The real fight is here now.”

“I know,” he sighs. “But this place isn’t for me.”

The lawyer makes a reappearance at that very moment, almost as if on cue, placing a gentle hand on your arm, mumbling something inaudible to you.

“I should…I should go,” you say quietly, shifting slightly to the side.

“Right,” replies Poe. “Good to see you.”

You give him one last smile before you round the corner.

He lets out a seemingly held breath, slumping against the wall, his grip weak on the files in hand.

“Was that that asshole you used to date?” He hears the lawyer’s voice faintly in the distance, no doubt thinking that Poe is already long gone, not lingering where he’d been.

“Yeah,” you reply, a pause sounding where there may have been a quiet sigh. “He’s not an asshole. Probably shouldn’t have pinned it on him as much as I did when I told you. Life just dealt him a bad hand of cards.”

Poe’s eyes shut at your words.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Dealt him a bad hand of cards.

He scrawls those words in the corner of his notebook in a disinterest of the previous task at hand. Letter to words to concept to supposedly the very essence of him.

He strings those ideas together in his head and simply stares.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present (Cont. 2 Weeks Later), New Republic Base, Hanna City, Chandrila

“Get her in here.”

“W-what?” Poe chokes on his water.

His immediate boss, a general and a former Resistance colonel, stares at him blankly, his head momentarily lifted from the diagram of the First Order stronghold they were still trying to crack. “I said get her in here.”

Poe is not sure how he’d gotten here. It’d started with a mention of your name, then a confirmation of who you were, then a casual remark from his boss on how good a strategist you’d been back when the three of you had worked together in the Resistance.

“But she doesn’t…she doesn’t work for the military anymore,” says Poe dumbly, blinking. He hadn’t even wanted to see you back at the courtroom, but being forced to spend hours with you, in a room, bent over a map and strategizing…

“She still works for the government, right?”

Poe nods.

“Well then we can still get her here if she agrees. I want her take on this stronghold bullshit,” the general says. “Get to it, Dameron. Send her a formal letter of request.”

“I’m not an errand boy,” Poe protests. He swears that he can see the general roll his eyes at the words.

“It’s not an errand,” the general responds. “It’s a militaristic necessity. I want her in here by the end of the week. Go.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present (Cont.), Hanna City Gardens, Chandrila

Cherry blossoms. Red hibiscus. Calico flowers spilling over walls and trees, lush and verdant.

Those are among the things that capture his eyes as he strolls beside you through Hanna City’s gardens. In short, you’d accepted the request for you to come, and determined to ease the agonizing awkwardness, he’d asked you for a walk.

“We were one hell of a pair,” you say, coming off a laugh he’s pulled from you with some remark that he’d already forgotten.

He smiles. “We certainly were. Me in the pilot’s seat, you in the gunner’s…”

An air of comfort has settled in around the two of you, warm and inviting, lacking any of the coldness that had been present before.

“You place a lot of flattery on your piloting abilities.” The corners of your lips twitch.

“Is it flattery, though, if it’s true?”

You laugh, sighing, a bright smile on your face. “Classic Poe.”

He shrugs. “What can I say?”

You go still all of a sudden, your gaze turning to a small, bright yellow flower on the side of the path, speckled in orange and red. Your fingers caress it, tenderly tracing the petals.

“We did make one hell of a team,” you repeat, your voice quiet and nostalgic.

A silence passes where something else originates in the air, not quite awkwardness, but something far from the comfort that had previously been.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look up. He can only assume your eyes are still locked on the flower.

He shifts slightly on his feet. “Of course.”

“Did you ever love me?”

It is his turn to freeze, for his eyes nearly widen. He stares at your back in shock for a few seconds before his hands reach out, gently clasping your arm and turning you to him. Your eyes travel on for miles, the space within them boring into his consciousness.

“You know…,” he begins. “You were always so level-headed…so logical and sensical. But I think that question is the craziest thing you’ve ever asked me…”

He’s closer to you now, and you look up at him, your mouth in a small frown. “So you did?”

“More than anything,” he whispers, barely resisting the urge to wrap his arms around your waist and press his lips to yours. As you look back at him, he wants you to feel the same—he needs you to.

“Do you still?” you say quietly, a certain pain reflecting in your eyes.

Something in his heart constricts at your query. He takes a deep breath, pushing out a lie with an immense difficulty. “No.”

A small part of him—no, all of him—wants to find some protest leaving your lips, some semblance of tears in your eyes, some sign of reciprocation. But you do none of that. One simple word leaves your lips. “Good.”

Your words are like a slap to his face, stinging and angry.

You glance down at your watch, stepping back from the intimate position, preparing to depart for an event that you’d told him of earlier. But before you leave, you emit one more sentence, turning back to him, expression cold and suspiciously closed-off. “You’re a liar.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Poe sits in his quarters the following evening by lamplight, evaluating some of your ideas on the plans. But he is distracted. Rejection is the only thing on his mind. He wants to be mad at you, at how callous you’d been, but were you really?

His eyes flip the page and flick to the words scrawled in the corner, ones he’d written two weeks ago.

Dealt him a bad hand of cards.

He grimaces. It feels like that idea is all he’s been trying to shake since he can remember. It’d followed him around, whispering behind his back, around walls, from the mouths of family, friends, neighbors.

The death of his mother. What a poor little boy.

Death of his grandmother. Seems like life’s got it in for the him.

One of his dearest friends: dead at sixteen with a bottle of pills next to them. Probably going fuck up the rest of that Dameron boy’s life.

You staring back at his blatantly hurt expression in the Hanna City gardens, a thought he knows that is going through your head: something along the lines of pitying him.

When Poe had run away to Kijimi or the New Republic or the Resistance, or when he’d yelled at you, when he’d lashed out at you—a small part of him believes that he did it just to prove that life hadn’t gotten him. That he was still strong. That he persevered.

But as he sits there, in his desolate, dark, and lonely quarters, for the first time in his life, Poe admits that life had gotten him. A reel of recollections plays in his head.

Reckless stunts pulled in the hopes of dying like a martyr.

Impassioned speeches fueled not by pride and courage, but by anger and hate.

Cruel words that led to dark scenes of you curled up in bed, sobbing.

The image of you walking away from him, two weeks ago, someone else on your arm.

He likes to believe that you’d slipped from his grasp, lost in the flurry and obstacles of a Galactic-wide war, as quick and as natural as leaves scattered to the wind. That no matter what either of you could’ve done, the two of you were destined to separate.

But he knows that’s not true.

You had not slipped from his grasp. He’d pushed you away—and had kept pushing you away every time you’d tried to regain your footing with him.

He sighs, walking to the window and staring at the city along the horizon, sparkling in the night.

He thinks of how it could’ve been had you still been with him—had you not disappeared from his life. Perhaps an apartment on the highest floor of Galactic City the two of you could afford. No more screaming. No more ruthless fighting. None of it.

As his eyes survey the distance, he knows one thing at the moment. He knows that if he could somehow have you again, he would never let go.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

A/N (another one, I guess): I’m sorry this was so long; I tried to cut out a lot but I just couldn’t. I know I don’t have the patience for 4.3k words half the time, so I appreciate it so much if you read the whole thing. I really did want to include more about how Poe personally did deal with his PTSD after reader left and his reflections on why he is the way he is, but i didn’t want to add so many words of explicitly spelling it out; although, it is implied some throughout. And apparently this A/N is long too. Being succinct really isn’t my strong suit, obviously. Thanks for reading!

Tagging (including some people who commented on part 1): @paper-n-ashes​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​ @writefightandflightclub​ @synical-paradox​ @dark-academics-and-florals​ @spider-starry​ (let me know if you don’t want to be tagged anymore on stuff)

Masterlist

If you wished to be tagged on future works, just leave a comment/reply below or see the form on my Masterlist for specific preferences. I’m probably going to try writing my first Javier Peña fic next, so let me know if you want to be tagged for that!

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #poe dameron fanfiction #Star Wars fanfiction #tfa #tlj #tros

[natasharomanoffismywife]

I Never Forgot You- Chapter 4 (Natasha x Y/n)

Tag List: @natasha-danvers​ @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ @disneykid125​ @summergeezburr​ @nowthisisliving27​ @subject7creed @sighsam

Word Count: 1,483

Natasha Pov

“Black Widow, agent Romanoff reporting to Ivan” I State into the phone to the operator of the Red room, I take off my high heels kicking them across the floor as I crick my neck waiting to be connected to the man in question.

“Widow, status?” The gruff voice orders me across the phone, his voice always sounding like he is swallowing glass.

“Made first contact with target, target still unknown of my identity” I lie through my teeth, knowing I have signed my own death warrant if Ivan finds out. If I had told him the truth then he would’ve ordered me to kill L/n right here and now, I believe I can gain more information and data from her. I will not have him take that possibility away from me, I hear him hum as if he was mulling over my statement in his head.

“OK good, what is your plan of action?” He asks, he knows that I am capable of following his orders but he enjoys it when I come up with better plans, he has a tendency to take those plans and run with them as if he had came up with them all along, not that I can say anything unless I want a bullet put between my eyes.

“Plan is to get close to her, make her drop her guard so I can get information on her team. Then once I am done with her I will terminate the target” I recite emotionless, as if I was talking about the weather rather than killing someone. That is the first thing they hit into you at the Red Room, emotion is weakness and weakness will be dealt with by death, after many years of going through the training and dealing with my targets I have lost all my emotion. I am like a killing machine but more efficient, machines require updates to work, I just need a gun and my body to the job.

“You have a week to kill her Widow, she isn’t the main mission after all. If you get compromised tell me, we must find what Dreykov requests for your target.” He sternly tells me, General Dreykov, the high up of the organisation is the person who will send me my instructions if I become compromised.

“Understood, Widow out” I sign out of the talk, shutting my phone off before walking over to my bed. I let out a soft sigh as I relax in the soft mattress, I’ve got a week to break one of the best Shield agents around, this will be one hell of a week.

Y/n Pov

“She knows who I am Clint, she knows I won’t back down either” I inform Clint, he is back home with his family so we are safe to video chat with each other. Seeing Laura and little baby Cooper instantly putting a smile on my face, the little chubby boy instantly calming my nerves and worries.

“Shit Y/n that’s not good at all, what the hell are you going to do?” The archer asks concerned, a worried look spread across his face. I can tell that he doesn’t like the fact that I am so far away without any backup, he always has been the protective type.

“I’m going to stay and complete my mission, if she get’s in my way well… I’ll be showing the famous Black Widow just how mean I can get” I tell him darkly, knowing that she most definitely will cross my path again, after all it looks like I am her mission.

“You do know how incredibly stupid that is right?” Clint spits out, a strong look of annoyance crosses his face as he looks at me through the webcam. I shrug my shoulders before sending him a cheeky grin and wink, I had just told Romanoff how un idiotic I am, guess I’m a good liar too.

“Well I’ve always been a bit on the stupid side” I joke out to my dear friend, he laughs out before he get’s pulled away from the call by the crying of Cooper.

“I need to go and help Laura with Coop, just be safe please” Clint tenderly informs me, I nod to him and bid him farewell before the room is plunged into silence. I take a few moments to think of my next move, deciding to try to do some digging on ‘Natalie’ I strip out of my dress opting for a more comfortable jeans and leather jacket, before making my way down into the hotel foyer. I look around the grand space, taking note of the people who are entering the establishment, all looking normal and checking in at the front desk.

I walk around the big open planned space, trying to see if there was anything out of the place that could lead me to the whereabouts of one Natalie Rushman. As I hover around the magazines I can see that the lady who checked me in is walking over to me, I turn around to give her my attention.

“Miss Truman, a message was left for you today. Here you go” The lady says handing me a small note, sending me her trademark grin before walking away from me and back to the front desk. I look down at the note, unfolding the piece of paper to be met with cursive handwriting, it read:

Don’t be a stranger

26A Old Church Road Budapest

N.R

I stick the address into my pocket before making my way out of the hotel and out into the raining street, I put my head down and start to walk towards the address that I was given. It takes me about half an hour to walk in the heavy rain, feeling my nerves ice over with each hit of the cold droplets. I finally arrive to a large building complex, I walk up and make my way up the stairs to number 26A.

I knock on the door loudly but no answer came, after a few more loud knocks I decide it was time to bust my way in. I grab my pistol out of the waistband of my jeans before testing the door, finding it unlocked. I push open the door before slowly making my way into the apartment, holding my gun in front of me in case I need to shoot my way out of the place.

I move around only seeing dull, plain rooms, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. I make my room into the last room seeing nothing but a desk with a laptop screen illuminating the small office space, I walk towards the laptop seeing that it is playing my conversation I had with Clint playing on repeat.

My ear picks up a small noise behind me making me turn around hurriedly coming face to face with a young woman who punches my gun out of my hands. She pounces on me, trapping me on the floor as she whips out a knife trying to stab it into me. I press my head up, head-butting the girl hard in her face effectively releasing me from her hold. As she is stunned I punch her hard in the face, throwing her off balance.

I go to punch her again but this time she counters it before kicking me hard in the chest, winded I full back into the desk hard, wincing as the corner of the furniture breaks the skin of my back. She charges at me but I manage to pick myself up off the floor so I can meet each hit with my own hand, countering each blow with precision. I finally see an opening in her stance so after I counter one of her punches I jab my elbow hard into her ribs, making her recoil in pain I grab the gun off the floor, aiming it at her head.

“Who the hell are you?” I gasp out sternly, trying to catch my breath. The woman, who’s face is all bloodied, spits some blood at my feet before sending me a sadistic grin.

“You will fall to the Widow, the Red Room will rule superior” The woman spits out as she starts to laugh at me, Natasha set this up, she wanted to send a message.

Knowing that was all I was going to get from the woman I empty two shots in between her eyes, leaving her to lay in her own puddle of blood. I shoot the laptop before limping out of the apartment, wincing as the hard rain hits my cuts. Natasha wanted to send me a message, well two can play at that game. The dead assassin will be my message to her, it shows that I don’t die easily.

#I never forgot you #chapter 4 #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #slow burn #avengers fanfiction #fanfic

[theunnoticedpansexual]

Copy and Erase: The Past | DRAFT

AN: Characters in this story except for Kira is not mine, this story is based in the MHA universe with my own little AU. Enjoy!

P.S Kira has pronounced Ki-rah

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

No-ones pov:

Kira, a second year, was one of UA's top students because of her quirk. Many of the first years looked up to her, third years on the other hand, not so much.

"Just another show off" they always say.

Everyone has a high school crush, whether it's someone older, younger, or perhaps the same age. But at least everyone had had a crush on a particular teacher, these crushes would fade with time, whether its gone within a week or within a year. Kira's however, didn't fade at all. In fact, every day she plans on telling but she ends up failing from embarrassment or convinced by friends not to do so. Considering he was already dating Miss Joke from Ketsubutsu.

Kira often has thoughts of her and Aizawa together, from cuddling to the unholy. Kira has had quite the thoughts from time to time.

Cut to the present day, class 2A was on a field trip for New Years, they went down the coasts of Japan to a beautiful beach to watch the fireworks, Kira was looking at the stars after midnight on the balcony of the hotel they were staying at until she heard some footsteps behind her...

Kira's POV:

I stare into the sky of dancing lights, mind blank and all, just thinking what the future was like. I was in thought when I heard footsteps from behind, they were faint but not too faint. I turn around suddenly to see a man with half-lidded eyes, long, black hair and in some black cat pyjamas of some kind, I couldn't see the printed cat on the shirt considering it was pitch black out here. It was Mr Aizawa, of all people it had to be him.

"What are you doing out so late?" he asked in a dull tone.

It sounded like he had just woke up from a couple of hours of sleep.

"I couldn't get to sleep so I came out here for fresh air" I replied

Aizawa walks up to the railing next to me but a few meters away. I could feel my heart playing swift drum solos on repeat. My face was on fire. I kept my gaze to the view in front of me, watching the stars slowly pass over us. It was an awkward, but comfortable silence for a few moments before Aizawa had broken the silence.

"I presume you're in third year now, considering the past year is now behind us? He asked.

"Uh- yeah!" I stuttered.

"Third year requires much effort and persistence, even All Might could lack behind such requirements, but knowing you, you'll manage nicely" he said with a small smile.

The fire on my cheeks grew, practically my whole face is a wildfire. I fiddle with my thumbs whilst looking at the ground in front of me, this was the PERFECT time to tell him. But I can't, I couldn't

Aizawa's POV:

In the corner of my eye, I see Kira next to me looking at the ground, waving her thumbs over one another. She looked as she was nervous.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Her expression went from nervous to looking like he had been caught doing something wrong.

"it's nothing, don't worry about it!" she smiled.

She turned back to the view In front of us, this sounded concerning.

"Kira, if there's something wrong you can tell me, I'm not only your teacher but I'm here to help" I told her.

She was a statue, she didn't even flinch. I turn back to face the darkness ahead of me, silence was heard until she spoke.

Kira's POV:

The time was perfect if I only had enough courage-

"Mr Aizawa" I mumbled.

He turned to me with his usual tired expression, honestly, he looked as if he wanted to go back to sleep. I gulped. I can't do this.

"Actually, never mind" I said as I head back inside into the living area.

I ran down the hall to my room, opened and closed the door quietly so I don't wake anyone up. I fell into my bed, mentally punching myself.

"Why was I going to tell him?! He's with someone and he's YOUR TEACHER, why am I so stupid..."

Those words kept circling my head, I scream into my pillow, my muffled screams could be heard through these thin walls. Tears flooded my eyes until I heard a soft knock on the door.

Aizawa's POV:

Kira quickly ran back inside and I was left alone on the balcony. I shove my heads into my warm pockets and decide to head back inside to my room. I walk down the hallway quietly, trying not to wake anyone up until I hear what sounded like a muffled scream coming from one of the rooms I passed. It was Kira's room. I put my ear to the door and heard what was also soft cries. Okay, something is definitely wrong. I knock on the door and the noise of crying stopped flowing into my ears. No answer, I knock again.

"Kira? Are you in there?"

I heard rummaging and the door finally opened to reveal her. Puffy eyes, face stained with tears. She looked as if she was just crying.

Kira's POV:

I managed to wipe the tears off of my face and open the door to see Mr Aizawa standing there.

"Is everything alright?" he asked "I swore I could've heard crying coming from inside your room"

"Everything's good here sensei!" I cheered, ignoring the fact that everything was definitely not good.

I try to close the door, Aizawa thought otherwise. He forced open the door and I just stood there, helpless.

"Kira, look at me, what's wrong?" he asked in a stern voice "I hate seeing you like this"

Tears dared to prick my eyes. I opened my mouth, it had a mind of its own.

"It's just you're so happy with her!" I yelled.

I quickly throw my hand to my mouth, what did I just say?! I couldn't stop myself.

"With who? What are you on about?!" he asked.

Looks like there's no turning back now.

"You and Ms Joke, you two are so happy together, I didn't want to tell you this in the first place because it could ruin your relationship with her.."

Aizawa moved back a bit, still trying to process what he had just heard.

"Aizawa, I love you and I don't I will ever stop loving you until the day I die, probably after that, I will keep loving you" I laughed, also crying at the same time.

Aizawa was still silent, moments before he saw a student crying, now she's confessing to him.

"I didn't want to tell you before but-"

No one's POV:

Kira was still spilling out whatever words her brain could process in the moment until she was stopped by a finger to her lips. Aizawa had soft look to his face, a hint of love but with a hint of regret.

"Kira, I wish I could say the same thing but we both know it's not right, especially since I'm with someone else"

Kira's POV:

I didn't believe the words I was hearing, but he was right. A student-teacher thing wasn't right, even if he wasn't with someone else. Tears started to fill my eyes but I quickly wipe them away before they came flooding out.

"Of course, I understand, I'm sorry for wasting your time," I said quietly, trying to hold back the pain in my voice.

"I'm glad we came to this, I hope something like this happens again in the future, considering it would have both my job and your education on the line" Aizawa said as he began to leave my room.

As the door shuts behind him I fell to my knees, the pain grew larger. Tears finally flooded my eyes, also drenching my once was on fire cheeks. Screams dared to exit my mouth, but I tried my hardest to suppress them. I get up and fling myself into my bed again, I have a feeling this year wasn't going to be the best.

Aizawa's POV:

I sit on my bed, staring at the floor still trying to process what just had happened. My student had just confessed to me, is that normal? Let alone the one I have had a fond of for quite a while now. The truth is, I love her back, but I never accepted her feelings since not only she's a student and I'm a teacher, she's 17 and I'm almost 30. And plus dating someone else on top of that (though I had lost feelings weeks ago). I wouldn't want to risk losing my job and her education. I lie back into my bed and try to clear my thoughts, it wasn't working considering every time my head goes blank she pops into it. I couldn't get to sleep so I decided to head back out to the balcony. After walking down the abandoned hallway, I see someone familiar. Before she was crying, now she was calmly looking out into the ocean, this feels familiar.

Kira's POV:

I had wiped the tears that had flooded my eyes moments before coming out onto the balcony on this cold winters night. Honestly, I could get over this considering its life.

"What are you doing out here?" a familiar tone of voice rang behind me.

I turn my head to my shoulder to see him standing there, still looking tired as ever.

"Just enjoying this peaceful night before it ends" I chuckled.

He comes over and stands next to me, closer than before. I can feel those swift drum solos playing again, I try to keep calm anyway.

"Kira, I'm sorry about before" he said

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you anyway" I smiled

"No, you should've" he said

Then suddenly he softly grabs my chin and turned my face towards his. He was closer than ever this time, to the point where there was no space between us.

"I love you too" he said softly before closing the gap between us.

It took me a bit to process what was happening, but I soon gave in and enjoyed the moment. It was short but felt amazing. We broke apart and he looked into my ocean blue eyes, his eyes were the colour of the night sky that surrounded us.

No one's POV:

Kira and Aizawa stand there, him holding her shoulders, her arms grasping under his, just realising what had happened.

Did they regret it? No

Will anyone know if they regretted it? No

Because, their love will never be spoken about, their love is a secret.

Copy and paste? No

More like, Copy and Erase.

[blvirz]

Living Life Through a Lens: Chapter Nine

Chapter 9: Is This Real Life?

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: None

gif.

A/N: Hello! Just to make things clear, in this chapter were back to present day and but still in Jennie’s POV. As always, thank you for reading(: 

[11:23 PM NZST]

          You were lying on the bed with your members. After telling them where Y/N had taken you and her question about whether the flirting was real, they only seemed to have more questions. Rose asked first, followed by Lisa and then finally Jisoo.

“Unnie, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep lying to both Y/N and yourself. She’s nice and deserves to know, why haven’t you told her?”

“I can’t believe she kissed Y/N, how come you don’t kiss me unnie? But I agree with Rosé, you should tell her soon.”

“Jennie it’s okay if you like her. Why didn’t you tell her when she asked?”

Hours of back and forth, they eventually fell asleep. This wasn’t the first conversation about the topic and you could tell they were getting fed up; to be honest, you were too. Though it wasn’t as easy as they were making it out to be. You wanted to be honest, but how could you tell a girl you had only just got to know that you had a crush on her? Or that you’ve seen her before? Would she like you back? Would she think you were stalking her? Would it make your business relationship awkward? As time went on, only more questions seemed to pop up. Y/N was always honest and upfront with you. Surely you could do the same, right?

Unable to get a goodnights rest due to the stress, you wondered how you were awake still and in a good mood. Whether it was the built-up stress or your lack of sleep you decided it was time to tell Y/N. You didn’t want to lie anymore. So quietly getting out of bed and trying not to wake up the rest of the members you went over to Y/N’s room. What do I have to lose? Like you said when you left Paris, you couldn’t let her slip away again like you had during Paris Fashion Week.

[12:29 AM NZST]

As soon as you knocked on the door you could feel your chest tighten, your heart beat a little faster and the sound of a ringing noise growing in your ears. You thought if you ran fast enough, you could make it to your room and Y/N wouldn’t have known it was you. But snapping back into reality you couldn’t act now and started pacing on the spot. With no plan and no idea what to say, the door opened. An exhausted looking Y/N appeared, and she hid herself behind the door before she noticed who it was. When she finally recognized you, her eyes widened and she was saying something, but you couldn’t hear it. The ringing noise that was in your ears had grown so loud that the only way you could stop it was to speak yourself, “I lied,” was all that came out, and instantly you stared at the ground feeling ashamed.

Your brain was screaming for you to move but you couldn’t, your feet were planted firmly on the ground. With the ringing noise now cut out, you heard, “what are you going on about? Are you okay? Come inside.” You felt her soft fingers close around your wrist and a pull causing your legs to follow at once. When Y/N closed the door, you felt the warmth of the room enclose you slowly.

“Should I send Lex to the room? Are the girls okay?” she asked.

Finally speaking you opened your mouth, “the girls are fine…sound asleep I might add. But Y/N I wanted to talk to you about something.”

In a half laugh and half yawn she had a puzzled expression on her face but asked if you wanted to talk on the couch as standing in the corridor of her hotel room was getting tiring. You agreed and finally being able to use your legs, you walked over and sat on the couch next to her.

In a soft tone she asked, “what’s up Jennie? What can I do for you at…12:37 in the morning?” Apart from the time she sounded like a school guidance counselor; asking in the same tone they used when they were concerned.

It’s now or never, you thought. “Earlier when you asked me if all this… if all the flirting, was harmless. I told you that it was and that was the end of it. But Y/N, when you asked me…I told you what my company has trained me to say. What I am supposed to say… regardless of what my own personal feelings might be. Evade and distract is what they call it.”

“Jennie I’m having a hard time following…”

“It wasn’t all harmless Y/N. It was intentional…because I like you. But please don’t feel the need to reciprocate­­–” you cut yourself off to see if she was still listening and because you had no idea what you were going to say next. Everything was silent for what seemed like an eternity, but the words that came out of Y/N’s mouth were ones you’ve heard before, but only in your dreams.

“I like you too Jennie.”

As soon as you heard the words it felt like all the weight on your shoulders had been taken off, but still your heart felt like it was beating a million times per minute. You noticed the colours in the room were instantly brighter and everything around you, was just better in general.

Y/N was the first one to speak after the long silence. “Just one question, when did you fall for my charms?” she joked as she flipped the hair that was hanging over her shoulder.

“That’s a funny story actually…”

You told her about Paris and how you felt so disappointed. She was amused the entire time; but how you managed to get through the story was a whole other mystery because of the way she was looking at you. Her eyes never left you for a second, even when you got to the embarrassing parts and covered your face. She would pull your arms back every time you tried to hide, insisting that she wanted to see. Was this really happening?

“So you’ve seen me before and you didn’t tell me this whole time?!” she asked wide eyed and in disbelief.

“What was I supposed to say! I wanted to meet you so bad after that, but I couldn’t exactly see you randomly. Our circles were so close yet so far back then.”

“Everything you just said was perfect, but had I met you earlier I don’t think we would be like this.”

“Why not?”

Y/N hesitated, and it seemed like she wanted to take back what she started but continued on anyway. “I was still with my ex back then. And as pretty as you are to me, my brain would have automatically saw you as a friend. I’m loyal to a fault, but I’m also glad it worked out this way.”

In the whirlwind of confessions and old stories you had forgotten about Y/N’s ex and seeing how she hesitated at the thought of her, it was something you weren’t sure either of you were ready to talk about. But on the other hand, you needed to know before you could start anything. Admitting you liked Y/N was the first step, but what was to come after was uncharted territory. Despite your fears you asked anyway, “I’m sorry I know it’s a sensitive topic but about your ex…I’m– I would never ask you to move on if you weren’t ready, but before starting anything I need to know that things are over.”

Searching for an answer in her eyes while also trying to be sympathetic you noticed she didn’t hesitate this time, “No don’t apologize! I should have cleared things up for you. I don’t want to bore you with the details but… before I took this job, I had walked in on her cheating on me. It was such a shock that I didn’t give myself time to process. The only thing I did know was that it was over, but because we never officially had a serious conversation about our breakup, I’m having trouble with the closure part.”

You were surprised to hear what actually went down between Y/N and her ex. The media had a field day reporting about their relationship; mentioning cheating and a whole bunch of other issues to be the cause of their breakup. But you never believed any of it because you too, had been a victim of the tabloids. So, with all of the reports you chose to ignore them.

You thought back to the day of the documentary press release when a reporter had asked Y/N about her breakup. It wasn’t anyone’s business and it had nothing to do with your upcoming project, so how could they ask her that? The look of sadness on her face made you angry, and so you distracted the media by turning on your mic and answering another question. The feeling of being helpless and unable to take her sadness away was something you refused to feel again.

“So where does that leave us?” you asked.

“Let’s take things slow. I don’t want to rush into labels or anything just yet. As much as I am into you, I want to know more and see more.”

Her emphasis on the word ‘see’ shocked you immediately. You could feel yourself tense up while you blushed, and your eyes widened at the same time. When she noticed your reaction, only then did she realize what she said and how it was taken out of context. “I meant to say that I would like see more with you! Or experience more with you.”

Wanting to throw her for a loop, you let out a sigh and nonchalantly said, “well that’s too bad… I was perfectly fine with what you said before.”

Her reaction was the same as yours just seconds ago, and in the midst of your laughter you could’ve sworn you heard her ask, “Is this real life?”

Chapter Ten - HERE

#blackpink imagines #jennie kim #lalisa manoban #Blackpink Rosé #Jisoo #blackpink scenarios

[mickmarstookmyheart]

Life's a Sick Joke pt 8

Pairing: Mick Mars x Reader

Would like to start from the very beginning? Great! Here is Part 1!

Sidenote: As this story is under construction, I would like to warn you that those chapters which don’t have a proper title are written in the main caharcter’s POV!! Be aware!!! Be awaaare! I hope you will enjoy this story as I did writing it, have a nice day and feel free to leave marks! 

8. Those screams

You hardly spoke on the way to the hotel. You didn't cry or show any emotion. You just felt emptiness. Just a void. The guys were all cute, they wanted to cheer you up, they acted goofy and funny. Tommy even lift you and put on his shoulders so fear took the place of sadness. Mick asked you several times if he could help but you told him that hardly. To make things a bit better, at the next concert you could finally take photos of these boys.

"Glad you are working now. I hated that guy from the last shows. He put his camera right in my face!" Vince said as he adjusted his costume on himself. You were waiting backstage to start the show.

"Yeah, man. He was rude and annoying." Tommy added while drumming on your head with his sticks.

"We just missed our little photographer chick." Nikki winked and placed his arm around your shoulders. "Anyway, where is your alien? The show can start at any moment now."

"I don't know. I will go and find him." As you were walking down the corridor you bumped into Doc.

"Hey, kiddo. Sorry I didn't see ya. All the boys are there?" He asked smiling.

"Mick hasn't shown up yet but I'm on it." Before you could start searching again he stopped you.

"Anyway, how are you doing?"

He looked in your eyes, not wanting to hear any lies.

"I'm okay. It doesn't hurt much." You pointed at your wound.

"I'm not talking about that. The boys told me about your brother. If you need some more time off..."

"Boss, I'm okay. Working helps me distract my thoughts. I appreciate it really and thank you. Now if you excuse me, I have to find the lead guitarist."

"If you say so, kiddo. You know where to find me." He smiled and you kept walking. When you arrived in his changing room, you saw him sitting on the couch and he had his eyes closed. You closed the door and quietly walked over on your toes to him. He looked so calm and vulnerable. His breath was slow and his lips were slightly opened.

You placed your hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. He opened one of his eyes and his lips curved into a smile.

"I couldn't think of any better way to wake me up."

"I know you love sleeping but the show must go on. They need you up there."

He grabbed your waist and pulled into his lap, so you were facing him. He looked down, you thought he wanted to avoid eye contact. "What's up, Mick? Is there a problem?" He just shook his head as a no. "Look into my eyes, please." You put your fingers under his chin so you could look into his eyes. "Tell me what's wrong. I'm fed up with lies."

"I...I am afraid." Well, you didn't expect that.

"From what?"

"I am afraid to go up there and play music. Those screams and chaos are still in my head....and I can't get rid of them."

"Oh, Mick. I didn't know. I'm so sorry." You hugged him tightly. "But if this makes things better, Doc hired 20 more security guards. Also, he made me even to wear a bullet-proof vest! I hate it but he threatened me that he will fire me if I won't wear it." You giggled.

"Mmm. You made me curious about that vest. Can you show me?" You snickered and shook your head.

"We don't have time for that." He pouted. "BUT maybe after the show, we can straight go to the hotel so I could show you that vest."

"I would love that," Mick muttered before he placed a kiss on your lips. He hugged you once more and rubbed small circles on your back. "I love you."

"I love you, too. And please tell me if something is going on. I want at least you, to be honest with me." You pointed at his chest. "Okay?"

"Agreed. And I'm sorry."

"Now enough." You put your hand over his mouth. "Let's go and rock this stadium!"

 ∆

"ARE YOU READY GUYS?" Vince shouted into the microphone. The crowd cheered back and you joined, too, after taking some shots of the audience. You also took some closeups from each of the boys. Mick looked concerned and you were a bit worried about him. "But before we start the concert, we have to discuss some things. First of all, I think all of you know what happened two weeks ago. We lost 6 of us. 6 fans who were enjoying our concert when that terrible thing happened. I must tell you that we will pay all of their funeral costs as our condolences." The whole crowd moved as one person and clapped. It was quite moving, to be honest, you even had to wipe a tear from my cheeks, you weren't that sensitive person. "But there is one person whom without we wouldn't be here tonight. The girl that saved my life. (Y/N) Cooper everyone!" He pointed at you and now all the lights were on you. "Come on the stage!" Vince demanded, waving at you with a big smirk on his face. You just shook your head but the crowd started shouting your name over and over. Doc also insisted to go up there so you approached the side of the stage and Nikki helped you climb there. You adjusted my tee and walked over to Vince shyly. You didn't like being in the center. You glanced at Mick who was still not in this world, he completely zoned out. Vince gave you the microphone and winked. You paralyzed.

"What do you want me to stay?" You covered it so the fans couldn't hear it.

"Anything you want. Something encouraging or just a joke. Your decision." He stepped aside and gave a thumb up. Nikki and Tommy were staring at each other smiling.

"Khm. Okay so hello Everyone. Are you ready to rock?" The crowd answered with a big yes. "Happy to hear that. Cause these boys worked so much on this music. Also, I would like to take the opportunity to thank the plenty of other people whom you can't see but you can see the results of their hard work. So let's make some fucking noise for them, too!" The audience went wild again. Vince leaned closer and spoke in the microphone.

"Do you guys have any questions for this beautiful lady? AND you can't ask her out for a date cause she is off-limits. She is with our alien, Mick Mars." Mick finally looked up when he heard his name. He looked at Vince and thought how the hell did you get on the stage. Not knowing the situation he just waved his hand. "So if you have a question ask it now!"

"Really, Vinnie?" You whispered to him while giving him a look.

"So what made you save Vince?" A guy shouted. "We heard rumors that you two weren't really on speaking terms." You shared a look with Vince.

"Well, you are right. But now we are talking and become friends, I guess?" You glanced at him, smiling.

"Best friends." He corrected me.

"So back to the question. What would've you done in my situation? You are in the middle of chaos and you are running for someplace to be safe but then you see that someone is incapable of hiding. So I did what I could. And I think this accident or this 4 days at the hospital gave me some time to reconsider things. We don't have time to waste. We never know when will our time end. We have to live in the present. Do what you want. Travel a lot, make new friendships, and gain experiences. Get yourself a guitar and learn to play it, or learn how to knot, not giving a shit it is for grandmas. So that's it. Thank you, guys!" You gave back the microphone and walked off the stage waving after Nikki gave you a high-five.

"That was a hell of a speech," Doc added when you arrived beside him.

"Thanks, I guess. I'm not a speech person and I just only said the truth. Nothing extra."

"It was still motivating. By the way, do you know what wrong is with Mick? He looks he is not here." Doc asked worrying about him.

"Umm, he is just tired. He was sleeping when I found him. Guess, he needs some time to rest." You lied. You didn't know if you should tell him the truth.

"I hope so."

The show rocked! They were all freaking good and after a couple of songs, Mick returned and connected with the fans. He also glanced at you several times and you always gave an encouraging smile back to him. When you were standing at his side between the stage and the cordon he always bent down and acted goofy in front of the camera, giving you the usual Mars face which you adored so much. After 30 minutes and taking hundreds of photos, you walked back to Doc. It was quite exhausting and you weren't in your best shape. Your wound hurt like hell and you were clutching at your side.

"Feeling all right?" Doc asked with concern in his eyes.

"I think I need to sit down a bit that's all." You muttered.

"You need to lie down. Go back and rest. And that's an order."

"But...I just need someone to bring a chair here." You insisted.

"No. You are going back and I will watch over the boys. Nothing bad will happen, I promise." He placed his hand on your shoulder.

"Okay, you are right. But call me if something happens." You pointed at him before leaving.

"Okay."

"Tommy, you are gonna wake her up, man," Nikki warned Tommy.

"She will kill you, you know that, right? Well, I should kill you for that." Mick muttered.

"Calm down, she won't find out who it was," Tommy said continuing drawing on your face.

"Won't, huh?" You asked back opening your eyes widely. Tommy dropped the pen and screamed.

"Please don't kill me!!! It was Nikki. Anyway, it was Vinnie's idea! I'm not guilty!! Haha, what I smell? It's a burger? It must be, I will bring you guys some, bye!" After rapping his plea he exited the room. You sat up and flinched from the pain. It was more bearable now although. You slowly stood up and walked over to the mirror to see what this man drew on your face.

"Happy Halloween? Seriously?" You snapped.

"Don't worry, you can wash it off. Not a permanent marker." Mick added to calm you down.

"Nah, it's cool. At least he could draw a witch on my face, too!" You pouted which made all the others shock.

"What?" You picked the marker up, leaned closer to the mirror, and drew a pentagram on your cheek.

"Now, it's good."

"Wow, that's sick, dude!" Nikki snickered, Vince just stepped behind you and looked into your eyes in the mirror.

"(Y/N), I'm proud of you. And I must say you are a true artist." He said in a serious tone. Mick just rolled his eyes.

"Fucking teenagers."

You turned to him and approached him, sat in his lap, and put the marker inches away from his face.

"If you dare to draw on my face with that..." He tried to threaten you drifting his face as far as possible.

"What will you do, huh? Mr. Mars?" You smirked. "You want an alien? Or a guitar?" You asked smiling and looking into his eyes not moving the pen away.

"Ooohohh (Y/N) can I get a guitar, please?" Nikki pouted like a child.

"Of course, Sixx. Vinnie?" You glanced at the singer.

"Oh, no, thanks. I won't let my face ruined with that chemical thing." He waved his head, letting his hair fall back like a queen. You smirked at Mick and put a quick kiss on his lips.

"Be right back." You stood up and held the pen like a knife in your hand, pointing at Vince. You grinned at him who was stepping back and searched for the knob of the door.

"Don't come any closer, (Y/N)."

"Boo!" He screamed and left the room like T-Bone.

"Pussy." Nikki and you said at the same moment. You shared a look just before you high-fived.

Tags: @cmft-jr-winchester @leatherandheels​ @karrotkate​ 

I don't know where this Halloween theme came from but if the world is upside down then my story can be upside down.

Next chapter

#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #80s music #80srock #mickmars #rocknroll #glam rock #mick mars #life's a sick joke #life is a sick joke #halloween #mick mars x reader #mick mars imagine #motley crue x reader #motley crue imagine

[peggysousfan]

Agent Carter An Au Series

Here is Chapter 16! There’s a lot more of the show in this one to make up for 15 lol and some peggysous fluff in the beginning. Enjoy! :) 

(PS. Tio means uncle lol)

Peggy's POV:

I wake up early in the morning, feed Steph, and go to the kitchen to make some tea. I notice Daniel still asleep on the couch, and he looks uncomfortable. Perhaps once we move he'll be able to sleep in his on bed again, and actually be comfortable. I can't believe I told him as much as I did last night, although it is a relief having some of it off my chest, I still wasn't ready for him to know all of that. I like Daniel, i really do, perhaps more than friends...but he showed me last night that he wasn't interested, or that he lost any interest he had. I never forgot the time in his room where we nearly kissed, our lips barely grazed the other...and yet I felt something; and I want to feel that spark again. Thats why, when I slip up and kiss his cheek, I try to compose myself or act as if it weren't a big deal. But last night he turned away from me, and I'm afraid that door is well and truly locked for good.

I look in the refrigerator for the milk to put in my tea, and I notice the label; Daisy Clover Dairy. Damn. I almost forgot I have to find the milk truck with nitramene that Branis stole. Ugh, its going to be a long week. I look over at Steph and she keeps wiggling around as if shes looking for something; or someone. I love how much she loves him, but once we leave I'm afraid of how she'll respond. I look over at Daniel and hes still fast asleep; then an idea pops in my mind. Perhaps its a bad one, but I do it anyway. I lift poppet up and place her on Daniels chest, and the second she realizes who he is, she snuggle against him and falls asleep. More and more am I amazed at how close they are. Its incredible. I can only imaging what her father would say or do if he knew how close Steph was with someone else. Knowing his obsessive and overbearing nature, he would probably get angry and try to prevent Daniel coming anywhere near her. But babies are good detectors of good people, and it seems Daniel is he best.

I hear a noise and look over at the sleeping pair. Daniel laid his arm over Steph to hold her close to him. All I can do is smile at the sight in front of me. If only I had a camera to capture this moment. Normally I wouldn't care for such things...but this is an exception. I turn away and sip my tea when I hear a noise; Daniel is starting to wake up.

"Mmm." He moves around and realizes hes not alone. "Uh, Hey little one. Where'd you come from?" I'm assuming he looks around, but I don't think he sees me. "How the hell did you get over here?" I see his head pop up from the couch and hold her closer. She rest her head on his chest and sleeps soundly.

"I'd be concerned if she were walking already." He looks up and finally notices my presence.

"Jesus Peg! You scared the hell outta me!" I laugh at his declaration. "How long has she..."

"Only a few minutes. She wouldn't sit still and kept looking around for you, so I placed her with you. And of course, she fell right back to sleep." He looks down at her and kisses her cheek.

"You are the sweetest thing ever." And I couldn't agree more.

"Can you believe she'll be 6 months in a few weeks? Because I can't!" I say.

"Seriously? Jeez.. Has it really been that long?" I nod my head and make my way to the couch, and i sit next to him.

"Indeed it has. Its only 5 weeks away, but it feels much shorter than that." He hands her over and she snuggles against me. "Well its about bloody time you little minx." He looks at me and laughs." I suppose she just needed to cuddle with Tio Daniel first."

"Tio Daniel!?"

"Or would you prefer....Godfather?" He leans back and looks at me, his eyes wide.

"Peg. Are you serious? You're not kidding?" I laugh and shake my head.

"So is that a yes?" He quickly leans over and embraces me and starts to lead towards my cheek, but stops himself.

"I don't mind, Daniel." I turn to him. "I do it to you, why should it be one way around." I say boldly. I know exactly why. Women do it as affection, or for thanks and gratitude, sometime its only a friendly gesture. But for men? Its meant for familiar family and spouses. He still looks afraid...I suppose I need to squash that. I lean over and place one hand on his cheek, and kiss the other. "See? no harm. We're very good friends, Daniel. It doesn't bother me." He still looks shocked and frozen.

"Yeah, uh..right. No, uh sorry. Your're right." Hes adorable when he gets like this, all awkward and stuttering, and I can't help but laugh.

"We should be getting ready. I have a feeling its going to be a long day at the office." At this he snaps out of whatever trance hes in and stands.

"Yeah, you're right. I should probably jump in the shower and get ready." I stand up as well and embrace him.

"I'll see you at the office." Steph reaches out one last time and gets her snuggles, and then we leave. I meet up with Jarvis and we look at the housing I will be staying at. Its one of Howard's quieter residencies; But I'm starting to have second thoughts. I take a delicious scone from the table as we continue to walk. As we tour the house and Jarvis describe the layout and such, I speak up.

"I can't stay."

"Mr. Stark insisted."

"But he also wants me to clear his name for multiple charges of treason. If anyone finds out I'm living in his house, I'll be fitted for the noose!"

"Well if it puts you at ease, this isn't one of him primary residences. He uses it more for...private entertaining."

"Its too risky."

"Well if you're sure you wouldn't like to see the master bedroom." Although I know this is a absolutely horrible Idea, I follow him anyway. When we enter the room, I fall in love. The bed is the most comfortable thing I have ever laid on.

"Perhaps a night or two won't kill us." He chuckles and give me the Intel he has on Leviathan; which is nothing at all. The SSR had nothing on them either. The only lead we have in the milk company that has a truck full of nitramene. Jarvis asked about the foreign agents with the odd throats and I explained that the New York hospitals had no record of Laryngotamy patience in the last 3 years."So I've got 2 foreign agents, with no voice boxes, fighting over a milk truck full of experimental implosives. "

"Just another day at the office"

"Ugh, I wish." I explain when the Daisy Clover opens and how I plan on infiltrating it and finding the truck. He insist on waiting with the car, but I tell him no. Hes already been through enough danger. As we have this conversation I explore the room, and when I get to the wardrobe...I am astounded. I'm not sure a theater has as many costumes as Howard does. But the white coat will prove useful. Soon after I hand Steph over to Jarvis, I head to get some work done

When I get there at the Daisy Clover, I use my American accent and a pair of glasses, and the white overcoat as a disguise. I confront the manager and say that there have been many complaints and I am one of them. I go on a rant and scare him enough to get him to cooperate; not many men like a bossy women and it can intimidate them. It seems like forever that I've searched this entire bloody place, but theres no sign of gamma rays or the truck. I look at the paper and notice a truck is missing.

"We've had a guy out sick the past two days. He uses his truck to commune."

"Has he never heard of a bus? Name and address."

"Sheldon McFee, but I don't have an address."

"Leave that to me." I storm off the property, but not without doing some proper inspector work. I shout to put air in one or the tires, and then leave.

Daniel's POV:

I can't believe Peggy wants me to be Stephanie Godfather! And she addressed me as Tio Daniel to Steph...I honestly can't believe that just happened. But of course I ruined the moment by trying to kiss her again. I know she doesn't mind it, but I do. I still can't forget the time in my room when we almost kissed; thats and all the times shes kissed my cheek or my hand.  I felt this...spark, and yet we barely grazed our lips against each other. Its torture having these feelings and not letting them out. I really like Peggy, as more than friends, but I know shes probably not ready for that sort of thing right now; and besides she has a kid. Even though I love that kid as if she were my own, shes not. I'll never be able to be her dad, and I think thats what hurts the most. It'll be worse when they find somewhere to move, I won't be able to see them as much; especially Steph.

When I know Peggy is gone I go to my room and look for something to wear after I get out of the shower. But the only clean shirt I have left is the one Steph ripped. Dammit. Guess this will have to do. I jump in the shower and get dressed, and once I'm done, I drink some coffee and head to the office. Peg isn't here yet, but I don't expect her to be; I know shes looking to see if he can stay with the sitters for a while. I know she hates the idea of house jumping, but its the only option she has that lets her live with her daughter. I would say Steph could stay with me while Peggy came by my apartment and stayed for her free time while she worked or was at the Hotel for woman. But I also work and can't watcher her 24/7. I feel horrible that I can't help out more...

"Hey Sousa! What happened to you? Did you get mugged?" Krisminski Laughs.

"What?" I ask.

"Well, your shirt is ripped. So I asked if you got mugged? I mean, Its not like you can fight back with one leg."

"Hey, whoa. We don't know if it was some low life thieves out to steal a gimps money. Maybe it was that girl hes been rushing off to see... Am I right Sousa?"

"Shut up, Thompson." I go to my desk and start looking through the files we have on Stark. I look up at the clock and notice Peggy isn't back yet, and its almost 9:15. Where is she? Maybe I'm the only one whos noticed, but shes always here five till 9; always. I keep looking at the files, but can't help but look at the clock. And then she arrives. Thank God. When she walks by my desk she smiles, but then looks at me confused. She makes a small gesture to my shirt, and I nod, then she laughs softly; she knows its the same one Steph ripped.  Hours go by and I get bored, so I look at the horse race chart.

"Whiteby's Prospect. Third Race." I turn round and see Peggy looking over my shoulder, her coat in hand.

"You sure?" I smirk. I know she doesn't really care about these things. Once when I was home and she came in, she noticed the races and laughed at me. She said it was a waste of time and money, and that most of the races were probably rigged.

"Not at all, thats why they call it gambling." We smile at the each other and then I circle her suggestion.

"I have to pop out for a moment, personal matters. Cover for me?" My first thought is somethings wrong with Step.  I lower my voice, so no one else can hear.

"Is everything okay with..." At first shes confused, then she gets it.

"Oh! No of course not, thats...no everything's fine in that regard." I sigh of relief. Peggy quickly reaches out and rubs my back comfortingly. "You'd be the first to know if something were wrong, Daniel. I assure you." I nod my head again and smile.

"Okay, good to know." She smiles and leans one hand on the back of my chair.

"So will you do it...?"

"Sure, but you'd own me one." She smiles again and Agent Mills hands me the photos from Spider Raymond's club. "Hey, Thanks a bunch." Peg asks about the folder and I tell her, then she offers to help me look for the woman who killed Raymond. Weird... "I thought you said you were leaving?"

"Oh well-"

"Hey Sousa, you're needed in the basement." Krisminksi says.

"I'm kind of busy"

"Well now you're extra busy. I got a ten ton ball of rocks and garbage with your name on it." God I hate this guy.

"Alright alright, just give me a minute." I put the folder away and the paper with the race. Then turn to Peggy. "Guess I'm gonna miss that race."

"Its probably for the best." She says. Kriskminski orders Peggy to file some reports, so I guess she doesn't get to leave. I hope it wasn't too important.

Peggy's POV:

"I see. Yes, Yes, Perfect. Thank you." I finally was able to gather the information and address of Sheldon McFee. Hopefully I'll be able to find the truck of Nitramene an turn in into the SSR; maybe then I'll get a break around here. I grab my coat and glance at Daniel before I leave. What is he doing? He has something hidden under a file that hes looking at. Gambling on Horse racing. Men...I take a guess and he listens to me, God he is a mess. I tell him that I need to leave on personal matters, and he automatically got worried about Stephanie. I don't think I can adore him any more for that. If anything were wrong with her, not only would I rush out of the this building, but I would grab Daniel and force him to come with me. Hes the first person I would come to if something were to ever happen to my daughter.

As I start to leave, I'm called for me reports to file. The bloody buffoons I work with are so idle. I look around, and make sure no one is watching me, and then I hurry to Chief Dooley's office to make a call; no trace. And he answer.

"I don't have long, so I need you to listen very carefully. I need you to dispose of Howard's car."

"I beg your pardon?" Jarvis says.

"The SSR are looking into Roxxon at this very moment at car sustained damage at the site, and is likely to be teeming with Vita Radiation. Make it disappear." He huffs, but agrees.

"Very well. The linens should be done in the wash in 30 minutes-"

"Now."I say. He asks about the Dairy truck and I give him the Intel I've found and then end the call. I have to know if my face is in any of those photos. This could ruin my career, get Steph taken from me, and... cost me everything with Daniel.

Hours later, when the coast is clear, around lunch, I stop eating the Orange Daniel gave me and sneak over to his desk. But of course nothings ever that easy. The phon on my desk rings, and then the one on Daniels; and I hit my head "Bloody Hell" I whisper aloud. That wasn't suppose to happen.I peak my head from the Desk and see Daniel coming my way. Dammit. I sneak back over to my desk as he answers the phone. Chief Dooley wants me to bring the Vita Ray Detector to the main Roxxon office.

"What was that about?" Daniel asks.

"Oh, just another errand." I reply as I walk away. I go to the file room and pick it up from where I pout it back this morning and then leave for Roxxon.

"Carter about time." Dooley says. Wanker...

"Oh! I didn't know  our government had such good taste in secretaries. Whats your name, Darling?"A man says, I'm assuming is Mr. Jones.

"Agent." I say simply. i hand over the detector to Dooley and say I will see him at the office, but he has other ideas.

"Yeah we could use your help" Thompson says. I'm sure you do.

"It wouldn't be for filing would it." I retort.

Dooley explains that the vita rays could still be on the person that handled the nitramen. He wants me to stay and check the woman in the facility because a man doing it isn't appropriate. God help me...I rush to the restroom to make sure none of the Vita rays are on me form when I had infiltrated the other facility and found Branis. Turns out I do. "Sorry Nana." I throw away the watch my grandmother had given to me before she died. I wasn't particularly close with her, but I was closer to her than my mum. She always encouraged my adventurous side and never forced me to learn to 'be a lady'.

Mr. Jones gathers up his employees and they stand in a long line to be tested. For a while there was nothing and i thought this whole thing was pointless, but then I see him. The man who helped Branis make the nitramen bombs. Thompson tests him, but he comes back clear. I ask him to stop walking away and ask Jones about the uniforms. Vita rays hardly saturate a persons skin, but clothing is tainted for longer, and when I suggest to check the locker rooms, Van Ert makes a run for it; and Dooley and Thompson chase him. Men are so quick to act rather than think. I take the stairs and beat him to the lobby.

"May I?" I ask as I take a mans brief case. I take it and wack Van Ert in the legs, and he falls to his feet. Thompson puts him and handcuffs and Dooley watches, out of breath. How he can be sweating this much is beyond me. "May I be pf any further assistance?" I ask. Once he is apprehended we leave to the SSR.

When we enter the SSR, I notice Daniel hard at work, and I catch myself from smiling. He works so hard and yet no one notices his efforts. Our eyes meet and I tilt my head for him to follow, and he does. We watch chief start to interrogation, but I'm not completely paying attention. I look over t him and see his shirt still torn, and i laugh.

"What?" He looks puzzled.

"Your shirt." I point and he looks down and laughs

"Yeah, uhm...its the only one I had left that was clean."

"I'm still sorry that happened,I-I still can't believe it."

"Its not your fault, Peg. Things happen." I hum in agreement.

"Have any of the boys noticed?" I ask. But he doesn't answer. "Daniel?"

"Yeah, but its nothing."

"What did they say?" He turns away from me and watches Dooley. "Daniel. What did they say?" Now I'm getting angry.

"It doesn't matter, Pe-

"Yes it does. It matters to me. What. Did. They. Say." He glances at me, quickly, and then back at Dooley. I reach out to him and hold his hand. "Daniel..."

"They just...thought I got mugged by some thieves..."

"And...?" He shakes his head and refuses to continue. I grab his shoulders and force him to face me, but he doesn't look at me. I place my right hand under his chin and my left in his cheek. "What aren't you telling me?" I ask gently. He takes a deep breath and speaks.

"They said that I got mugged by thieves..."I raise my brow, "Becasue I can't defned myself with one leg."

"What!?" He tries to shuh me to not bring any attention "No. I will not 'Shh' What else?"

"Pegs-"

"What. Else?"I place my hands on my hips; now I'm fuming.

"The other wasn't so bad..." Again I raise my brow. "He said that...it was a woman who did it." I know hes still holding back. "I can't win with you can I?"

"Never." I say and he laughs.

"He said that it was the woman that 'I've been rushing to meet' for the past 2 weeks."

"What woman?" Daniel's seeing someone?I had no idea.But I suppose it makes sense as to why he turned away from me last night...

"No one. There isn't one, I swear" I hadn't realized I was holding my breath, that is, until I released it. "No need to look so relieved." Damn.

"Sorry I-"

"I'm just messing with you, Peggy." I smile and shove him playfully.

"Arse." Before we know it, Dooley walks in the room and watches Thompson beat on Van Ert. If talking doesn't work, brute force does. He sends me home because 'lady's shouldn't e seeing this' As if I haven't seen worse during the war. I glance at Daniel and smile; one more night before Steph and I go to Howard's old house. I'll miss Daniel...

#peggysous #peggy carter #daniel sousa #Peggy x Daniel #agent carter #agent carter series #au fanfic #fanfiction

[imalizainab]

Aria's POV

It had been a week since I found out the truth of how my father wants to me use for his own selfish benefit. I had not found the chance to talk to Axel and tell him everything that is going own because I had been busy the whole week with the wedding preparations, not because I want to but I am forced to do it. I had been informed by Lisa that Axel had come a couple of times to see me but every time my father always gives him an excuse of how I am busy with the wedding preparations even when I am always free sometimes. I know that this is my father's plan to keep me away from seeing Axel so that I don't expose him, but no matter how hard he tries to keep me from seeing Axel, I am going to find a way to tell him. My wedding rehearsal is in a few days and I am going to use that as an opportunity to tell Axel everything.

"What do you think of this dress Ms.Aria?" Amanda, the wedding dress designer, asked me as she showed me a picture of a wedding gown from her book. I had even forgotten that she was still here.

"Just pick the one you think is best for me." I said as I didn't have any interest in anything that was going on.

"But I would like some of your opinion as it is your wedding."

"I said pick the one you think is best for me!" I snapped at her and she was shocked at my reaction.

"She just means that you choose what you think will look good on her, it is her wedding and she is having the jitters so please pardon her behavior. Here, why don't you show me your best designs and I will give you my opinions." My mother who had been sitting beside me said, and I couldn't help roll my eyes.

"Okay Mrs.Watson, and I completely understand you Ms.Aria, it is totally normal to have anxiety on one's wedding day but don't get yourself so worked up, everything is going to be fine." Amanda said in her sweet kind voice, and I kind of felt sorry for snapping at her.

After coming to a conclusion of which dress would suit me best, Amanda took my measurements and my mother saw her off.

"Why did you act that way in front of the designer?" My mother asked, and I just stayed quiet as I read a magazine while lying on my bed.

"Aria I am speaking to you." She said but I still remained quiet.

"I know you are mad at me and I am sorry Aria, I didn't want things to get this ugly but I hope we will fix them." She said and left my room.

Today is my wedding rehearsal day and we are on our way to the wedding venue. I am going to tell Axel everything and put and end to my father's plan. I know that he will be keeping an eye on me but I have the perfect plan to get Axel and I alone so that I can tell him everything.

We arrive at the hotel where the wedding will take place and we head to where the church set up has been put. The decorations are still going on and everyone else has arrived.

"Aria!" I hear Valerie, my cousin who is also one of my bridesmaids call me.

"Valerie, how are you?" I ask as I hug her.

"I am good, what about you?"

"I am great."

"Of course you are, you are getting married, how do you feel?" She asked excitedly.

I was about to answer when the wedding planner spoke up.

"Okay everybody, take your places, the rehearsal is about to begin." She said and Valerie went to her position.

I looked around and saw Axel standing at corner with Aiden and his parents. The music started and Axel walked down the aisle with both his parents. He was so happy and I did not want to think how he will be when I tell him everything.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle with one another and now it was my turn. My father came up to me and held out his arm for me to put my hand, I put my hand and we walked down the aisle together.

We reached the alter and after my father took his seat, the priest started saying the vows. All this time Axel was smiling brightly and I on the other hand wanted this whole thing to be over so that I could get him alone and tell him everything.

After we were done, we went to the reception for the dinner rehearsal. After everyone was seated, Axel's father started hitting his glass with a spoon so as to get everyone's attention. Once everyone was quiet, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you for being here and celebrating this special day with us. It is Axel's and Aria's wedding and I am happy for the both of you, I hope that you two will always be happy and will always love each other, no matter what what challenges you go through, thank you." He sat down and we applauded him.

Axel's mother stood up to give her speech. "It is a beautiful day and I am glad to see my son getting married to the woman he loves. I just want to wish you all the best in your married life and may you always be happy and prosperous and also live long. I also hope to see my grandchildren soon so you both better get to working." She said and everyone laughed.

It was my mother's turn to speak. "Aria, Axel, it is your big day and I am more than happy for the both of you. I hope that you always hold each other no matter the ups and downs that life comes with, and that you will grow closer and stronger together. I wish you all the best in your married life." When she was done, I started wishing that this whole thing was real and it made me very emotional.

My father stood up to speak. "I wish you all the best in your married life and may you always be happy." I couldn't believe my father, he didn't even have the decency to give a proper speech, yet he was the one who suggested this wedding to take place.

Everyone was now busy chatting and interacting with one another and I saw this as the perfect opportunity to get Axel and I away from everyone.

"Axel, can you come with me, there is something important that I need to tell you."

"Umm....Okay." He said and I helped him stand up. We walked down the hallway and after we were far away from the noise I stopped.

"Is everything okay Aria?" He asked concerned.

"No, nothing is okay Axel."

"Tell me, what's wrong?"

"There is something important you should know." I took a deep breath before continuing. "The reason this wedding was planned was because my........"

"There you are Aria, I have been looking everywhere for you." I heard my father say and I saw him walking towards us.

"We should get going now, it is getting late and you must be tired as you had a very long day today." My father said in a 'caring' voice.

"Wait, Aria has something to tell me." Axel said.

"She can tell you some other time, besides you guys are soon getting married so you will have plenty of time to talk to each other." He said as he grabbed my arm. I wanted to snatch it away when Aiden showed up.

"It's time to go Axel, your parents are looking for you." Aiden said as he took Axel's arm.

"You can tell me what you wanted to say some other time Aria, goodnight." He said and they walked away.

"You thought that you could ruined my plan, didn't you." He said as he stared at me coldly.

"I was going to do what is right." I said as I stared back at him and the next thing I know he slapped  me across the face.

"If you try this again, I swear you will more than a slap." He said and walked away. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I couldn't believe my father just laid a hand on me just because I wanted to tell the truth to Axel.

My father's relationship and I had always been a bumpy one but he had never once raised a hand on me till today, but I was not going to give up, one way or another I was going to tell Axel the truth and if I don't succeed, then this wedding is not going to take place.

[welllpthisishappening]

The PyeongChang Triple (2/15)

It’s the Olympics. The. Olympics. And Emma’s running out of post-it notes to write schedules and plans on and there are more games and more expectations and not enough time for any of it. She’s fine. Totally. Absolutely. If she could just sleep. Or stop feeling as if her knees are going to give out every time she stands up. Or get Ruby to stop staring at her like that. It’s fine. After all Killian Jones, captain of Team USA, keeps promising it will be.

He’s going to win. Again. At the Olympics. And Killian’s not nervous. Not about that. It’s hockey. He could play hockey in his sleep. Probably. He’s never tried that. But he probably could. And, sure, there are expectations and games and schedules and barely any time for what he wants to actually be doing, but winning a Gold medal isn’t bad. After all, Emma Swan, temporary New York Rangers Olympics team social media manager, keeps promising it will be.

They’re fine. They’re going to win. Together.

Rating: Mature. Swearing, hockey-type violence, lotsa making out. Word Count: 9.8K’ish. Emma’s got a schedule to stick to.  AN: Guys! I can’t thank you enough for your response to this and the excitement and general awesome’ness of each and every one of you. It’s the best. Emma’s POV this chapter and a very detailed schedule and Opening Ceremonies that last forever. This story would be nothing without @laurnorder​ who fixes all the words and @distant-rose​ who comes up with clever titles.  Also on Ao3 and FF.net if that’s how you roll. 

She didn’t really remember much of the car ride – just Killian’s voice in her ear when they got to the hotel and fingers in her hair and she’d been so goddamn tired.

She’d grumbled and he’d laughed, the sound of it echoing in the back seat of the car and Ruby must have spent the last month planning the logistics of all of this. If Emma didn’t have her own schedule and two jobs to do and several month’s worth of scheduling to her name as well, she probably would have been impressed.

Well, maybe she was. She was just also exhausted.

And she didn’t want to get out of bed.

The alarm went off and Emma reached for it, nearly knocking it off the nightstand in the process and she didn’t even have to open her eyes to know she was alone in bed already. He’d probably been up for hours already – she could hear a coffee maker on the other side of the room and the sounds of the shower around the corner. Emma sighed softly, but there was a schedule and a to-do-list on their phones and Ruby would kill them if they didn’t get to the lobby on time.

They hadn’t left the room the day before – jet lag and time differences and maybe, definitely, something else that had nothing to do with either one of those things – surviving on room service and that coffee maker and a whole list of television stations that didn’t make much sense.

They didn’t really watch much television.

Emma glanced down at her phone when it vibrated in her hand, eyebrows pulled low at the sound – Mary Margaret wasn’t supposed to text. Except she wasn’t. She was FaceTiming and this wasn’t helping the schedule, but Killian was still in the shower and Emma was a jumble of pre-Olympic excitement and media day and Opening Ceremonies and Mary Margaret absolutely, positively knew all of that.

“You’re going to wreck your data,” Emma said as soon as she swiped her thumb across the screen to find Mary Margaret's enthusiastic smile on the other end.

She made a face. “I don’t care about my data. And hi, by the way.” “Hey,” Emma smiled, tugging her legs up to rest her chin on her knees as she held her phone out in front of her. “What time is it there?” “Seven’ish. What is it, fourteen hours?” “I honestly have no idea.” “Shouldn’t you know that?” “Reese’s, did you just call to question whether or not I knew the time difference because that’s kind of insane.” “Rude.” “And true.” Mary Margaret made a noise in the back of her throat, something that sounded eerily similar to that growling thing Ruby did whenever she was frustrated, and Emma heard David chuckle in the background. “I just wanted to make sure you were ready for your Olympics extravaganza,” Mary Margaret continued and David made another noise.

It wasn’t a chuckle – it was...incredulous. That wasn’t really the right word either. It sounded kind of skeptical and just a bit eager and both Emma and Mary Margaret lowered their eyebrows at the sound.

“What’s his deal?” Emma asked, nodding towards the corner of the screen where David was just barely visible in the kitchen alcove.

“I don’t know,” Mary Margaret admitted. “That was weird, right? He keeps doing it too. Every time I mention the Olympics, he gets this weird, anxious look on his face.” “Who knew he was so patriotic?” “Maybe it’s got something to do with the force.” “I can hear, you know,” David shouted, finally turning towards both of them with a look that had Emma biting back a laugh of her own.

“That was kind of the point,” Emma muttered and David glared at her. He sank down next to Mary Margaret, huffing slightly and muttering something that sounded distinctly like mouthy teenage kid underneath his breath.

Mary Margaret still hadn’t lifted her eyebrows, staring at him like she knew he was keeping a secret and it was far too early for this conversation. “You catch up on sleep yet, Em?” David asked conversationally and Emma nearly collapsed back onto the bed in fits. She barely registered the way his eyes widened and that look was back, while she tried to make sure she didn’t drop her phone.

“Ok, for real, what is going on with you?” Emma asked.

David just pressed his lips together tightly, a thin straight line of pink and anxious and knowing and Mary Margaret tapped his shoulder when he didn’t answer immediately. “Nothing,” he said quickly. Emma scoffed. “Seriously.” “Explain your face then. And why you’re letting Reese’s destroy her data for this.” “That was Mary Margaret’s idea, not mine. It’s your first day of the Olympics. You can’t expect your mother not to worry about you.” Mary Margaret hit his shoulder again and Emma rolled her eyes, but that tiny little flame of something that seemed to flare to life whenever she realized how goddamn happy she was seemed to flicker just a bit and she’d probably never get used to this.

A family and friends and there was a Stanley Cup-winning hockey player still in the shower who, at last count, had told her how glad he was she was there seven times in the last twenty-four hours.

Emma’s fingers ghosted over the chain around her neck out of instinct and if asked she probably would have promised it was just so she didn’t choke herself. She was, after all, still collapsed in a sea of pillows and hotel-provided sheets.

It would have been a very big lie.

“For real?” Emma asked. “You checking up on me, Reese’s? Trust me, Ruby’s got that down. I think half of my text messages are from her to make sure I know what to do. As if I can’t run media for a team. It’s not even a whole team, just our guys.” Mary Margaret smiled at her, the pride making it across several time zones and continents and different days because it was yesterday there and she’d called to make sure Emma was ready for the Olympics.

“I’m not checking up on anything,” Mary Margaret promised. “I know I didn’t need to.” She shrugged, sticking her lower lip out slightly and Emma was dimly aware that the shower had, at some point, turned off and there were footsteps making their way back towards her.

“Swan, you up?”

Mary Margaret yelped – dropping the phone in the process – while David made some kind of impossible noise and Emma wondered if it was possible to melt into a pile of pillows and hotel-provided sheets.

It was far too early in the morning for this.

Far too early for phone calls from supportive quasi-parents and her still-vibrating phone and Killian Jones, captain of Team USA, standing a few feet away from her in a goddamn towel.

She ran her hand over her face, squeezing her eyes shut and if that wasn’t the dumbest thing she’d ever done, then Emma wasn’t sure what was. Killian Jones was standing a few feet away from her in a goddamn towel, that stupid smirk on his face and she couldn’t remember when that had actually started working.

Probably at some point in the last five months, in between trophies on the kitchen counter and pillows on their bed and his seemingly endless determination to make sure that there was always an unopened container of cinnamon in the cabinet.

David was cackling.

“David, God, shut up,” Emma mumbled. He didn’t stop. Mary Margaret was beet red, eyes boring a hole in the floor in the loft several thousand miles away.

Emma glanced up at Killian, smirk still tugging on the ends of his mouth and he did something ridiculous with his eyebrows. The fire in the pit of her stomach was somewhere close to an inferno.

“I’m awake,” she said, pushing back up and blinking quickly when the whole room seemed to move with her.

The smirk disappeared almost immediately.

“Swan,” Killian said sharply and even Mary Margaret lifted her gaze, eyes going wide when Emma shook her head slowly, trying to regain her bearings. “Are you alright?” “Yeah, yeah, fine. Just moved too quickly or something.”

His shoulders were tense, a straight line of concern and the worry radiating of him was nearly palpable, any humor at absolutely terrorizing David and Mary Margaret on the other side of the world forgotten as soon as Emma slumped against the pillows.

“Just tired,” she muttered and he didn’t look convinced. “Has Ruby started texting you? I can hear the messages already, but I’ve been getting sent off to my first day of school by Mom and Dad so I haven’t had a chance to look.” Killian shook his head slowly, tongue pressed on the inside of his cheek and his shoulders hadn’t relaxed yet. Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she promised. He just lifted his eyebrows and that wasn’t even fair – he was in a towel for God's sake.

“And,” Mary Margaret added, probably sensing whatever was happening on the other side of the world as easily as if she were sitting in the corner of the hotel room. “It’s not your first day of school, Emma. If you’re going to be sarcastic about this, at least do it right.” “Ah, well, yeah, of course,” Emma scoffed and Mary Margaret only looked slightly frustrated. She also still looked a bit worried.

And Killian hadn’t blinked in days – at least.

“Put clothes on,” she continued, glancing up at him as she tried to keep herself still and leaning up against pillows. Her phone buzzed again. Ruby was the single most dramatic person in the entire world.

They were ahead of schedule.

Killian sighed, but he’d finally pulled his tongue away from the inside of his cheek and David had gone back to the kitchen alcove, banging pots and pans and mumbling under his breath about...something. She couldn’t quite understand what he was saying.

“Are you distracted, Swan?” Killian asked, arms crossed lightly over his chest.

“No,” she said and that sounded like an excuse too. Add that to the list she’d made the night before, in between TV shows they couldn’t understand and a, frankly, ridiculous amount of kissing.

“No?” “No. You’re embarrassing Reese’s though. She’s gone all red.” Mary Margaret made a noise on the other end of the phone and Killian’s shoulders, finally, moved, sagging slightly as he breathed out the air Emma knew he’d been holding. “I have no idea where my phone is,” he said and that wasn’t really the answer Emma had been expecting.

“What?” she shouted – mostly to his back. He’d turned around before she’d even gotten a single letter out, glancing at her over his shoulder with wide eyes and that felt like cheating too. At least these jerseys weren’t blue.

She probably wouldn’t have survived two weeks of Olympics and looks like that and eyes that, inexplicably, matched another jersey color.

David laughed from the kitchen and if it didn't require another fourteen-hour flight and more jet lag – as if that were even possible – she’d fly back to New York City and kick him. Or punch him. Probably in both of his kidneys.

“To be fair,” Killian said, dress pants on and shirt barely buttoned and two ties in his hands. Emma nodded towards the left one. Slightly less Rangers blue than the other. “I don’t think Scarlet even brought his phone at all, so…” “If that’s supposed to impress me, it doesn’t,” Emma argued. “I don’t know that we should be using Scarlet as some kind of marker of adult responsibility. And how is he going to talk to Belle?” “Well, she’s coming next week, so I don’t thinks he’s worried. Plus, he’s absolutely going to destroy Phillip’s data.” “I don’t think that’s how it works.” “See, this is why you stay in hotels, Swan. There’s guaranteed wifi and no data issues.” “Are you just throwing internet facts at me?” “I don’t think I’m throwing anything. Unless it’s my phone. But that was last night and not a fact, so I don’t think that’s what you were talking about.”

Emma made a face, biting back the urge to laugh or maybe sink back into the pillows and that would probably just make her dizzy again. “Is there coffee?”

Killian nodded and if she wasn’t, maybe, looking for it, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the way his shoulders shifted again, weight rocking between his feet as he tried to read her face. Open book. Idiot.

Worried idiot.

They didn’t have time for worry or jet lag or whatever fit David was having in New York City.

“Ruby is texting me now,” Mary Margaret muttered, something that looked like amusement flashing across her face.

“Oh my God,” Emma groaned and she glared at Killian when he started laughing. He stopped as soon as a different phone buzzed – underneath one of the pillows. She shook her head, grabbing the pillow and throwing it across the room before he grabbed his phone off the mattress, shooting her an apologetic look as he moved. “Tell Ruby we’ll be downstairs on time. We are so far ahead of schedule, it’s almost a joke.” Mary Margaret might have saluted, but Killian mumbled mine wasn’t Lucas under his breath and Emma was glad they’d at least had the presence of mind the day before to hang up their clothes, certain Regina would have been scandalized if either one of them showed up to media in slightly wrinkled clothing.

“Who was it?” Emma asked.

She didn’t expect Mary Margaret to answer. “It was Ariel wasn’t it?” Killian nodded, but he didn’t take his eyes away from his phone, fingers flying across the screen and Emma’s head felt like it was on a swivel.

“She’s very bored,” Mary Margaret explained. “She wants updates and guarantees that no one is going to get hurt while you guys are there.” “We’re not even supposed to check each other,” Killian muttered and Mary Margaret shrugged.

“I think she’s convinced something terrible is going to happen to one of you.”

“Oh my God,” Emma said again, squeezing her eyes shut and she could feel Killian glance her direction, stuffing his phone back in his pocket with a bit more force than absolutely necessary. “You ok?” she asked.

“Fine.” Something was going on. And open book worked both ways. David made another noise.

“Alright,” Emma said slowly, dragging out the word like that would somehow get him to talk. She’d almost forgotten about the FaceTime phone call in her hand. “They’re going to ask you about that, you know. Today, I mean. Checking and everything you said and what you did over the last couple of months.” “I know how to answer questions, Swan.” She pulled her legs underneath her, tilting her head at the tone of his voice and Killian sighed again. “Red’s very bored,” he said.

“So I’ve been told.” Emma glanced back at Mary Margaret, looking for some kind of explanation as to whatever was going on and she knew, immediately, she wasn’t going to get it. Mary Margaret looked just as confused as Emma felt, eyes darting back towards David when he dropped, what sounded like, an entire set of pots and pans.

“David, what even?” Emma asked, but she hadn’t stopped looking at Killian. His tongue darted out in between his lips and he was dangerously close to strangling himself with his own tie. She jumped off the bed, as fine as promised, and tugged his hands away.

He didn’t argue.

“I’d be mad if you didn’t make it to media,” she muttered, hand falling on his chest when she’d finished and she couldn’t quite breathe when his hand fell on top of hers.

That was stupid.

It probably wouldn’t ever stop.

She hoped not.

“We saved that Post you know,” Mary Margaret shouted, Emma’s phone forgotten on the bed in the middle of romance and something that felt decidedly important. He wasn’t telling her something. And she knew it.

He knew she knew it.

“She’s probably going to scrapbook it,” Emma added and Killian scoffed.

“I’ve never scrapbooked in my entire life. That is just stereotyping for teachers.” “Ok, that had nothing to do you with your chosen profession,” Emma argued, turning back towards her phone. “What did A want to know about?” And it was like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room – Killian going stiff behind her and his hand tightened where it had landed on her waist and David dropped something. Again.

Mary Margaret shrugged. “She wanted to know if anything major had happened yet.” Killian hissed in what sounded like a gulp of air and Emma spun at the sound, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face while he ran his hand through his hair. “I said you guys probably spent most of yesterday sleeping. I think she’s just trying to make sure she doesn’t miss anything. She’s mad she couldn’t go.” “She’s almost nine months pregnant,” Emma reasoned. “She wouldn’t have even been able to go to games if we were playing in New York.” “Don’t tell her that.” “I wouldn’t.”

“That’s smart, Swan,” Killian said and he hadn’t let go of her waist. “She’s, uh, she’s rather determined at this point.” Emma was still missing something. She was certain of it – could see the way David kept trying to meet Killian’s gaze and how Killian kept, absolutely, avoiding it. “What is happening right now?” “Nothing,” Killian and David said at the same time. Both of them groaned.

“Alright,” Emma snapped and maybe she was the one who was slightly frustrated now. She was going to drink that entire goddamn pot of coffee. “Fine. Do whatever it is you’re doing. David, I hope you have to work every single time we play. And you,” she spun on the spot, nearly dropping her phone in the process and Killian almost looked intimidated. He also looked impressed, eyes widening and mouth quirking up. “You better come up with good answers for every question they ask, no deflecting and no bringing Rol with you to try and distract them.” “Would I do that, Swan?” “Yes.” “That’s fair,” he laughed, tugging her against him and brushing his lips across her forehead and, well, there went the frustration.

“They’re going to want to know what you said to get an entire league to change its mind.” “They used Captain America in a headline again today,” Mary Margaret, voice muffled a bit with Emma’s phone was pressed up against Killian’s chest. “But I think that was ESPN. Right? So that’s kind of cheating.”

David hummed in agreement and Emma shook her head, shoulders shaking slightly when she laughed and bit her lip.

And even if she was absolutely, positive something was going on, she was somewhere in the realm of impossibly happy, if not slightly hungry.

And caffeine deprived.

It didn’t matter.

She was happy and they were at the Olympics and she might be meticulously scheduled for the next two weeks, but there was hockey to watch and media to run and they’d already promised to bring Henry and Rol somewhere educational and it all kind of felt like a dream.

It was not.

They were going to win a gold medal.

They could hang it off the Conn-Smythe they’d never given back.

“Captain America,” Emma repeated, tapping her nails against a line of buttons and Killian rolled his eyes.

“Just Killian, love,” he said softly and the words seemed to work their way from her head to her heart and the bottom of her toes and she was a sentimental fool who loved her boyfriend. They were absolutely going to win.

Again.

She’d forgotten about Mary Margaret and David entirely, gripping her phone tightly when Killian ducked his head and his lips against hers sent a shockwave of something very particular down her spine.

Mary Margaret coughed pointedly and Emma nearly snapped back, blinking quickly when Killian grinned at her. “Sorry, sorry,” Emma mumbled. “I’ve got to go Reese’s.” “Yuh huh,” she laughed, but there was a smile on her face when Emma pulled the phone back up. “Go dominate the Olympics. Both of you.” “Thanks, Mom.”

They made it to the lobby before Ruby did, the Mills-Locksley family sitting in chairs with matching looks of post-flight exhaustion on their face and both Henry and Roland were already drowning in Team USA merch.

“Did Ruby call you?” Robin grumbled, legs stretched out in front of him and he didn’t even try to slow down Roland when he practically leapt at Killian.

Emma nodded, narrowing her eyes when Regina started at Killian like she was taking stock of all of his limbs. He glared at her, tugging Roland up and groaning slightly when he slung him over his shoulder.

“Ariel is going to kill you if you hurt yourself this week,” Emma muttered and he couldn't really shrug.

“Hey Emma,” Roland yelled, shouting the words at her in the crowded lobby that, at first glance, appeared to be filled with hockey players and something that might have actually been a bobsled in the corner. She was surprised Henry and Roland hadn’t claimed it as their own yet. That was probably Regina’s doing.

“Hey, Rol,” she said. “When did you guys get jerseys?” “Gina brought them.” “Prepared.” Regina shrugged, but Emma didn’t think she’d imagined the small hint of pride on her face either. “Killian,” she hissed and he snapped to attention, ignoring Roland’s soft cry when he nearly dropped him. “Put my kid down. Ariel won’t kill you if you get hurt, but I will and so will front office. The only reason we’re here is because you promised you wouldn’t get hurt.” “Ok, that’s not the only reason,” Killian sighed.

That was a lie. It was.

It was absolutely the only reason and Captain America was, actually, a pretty spot-on headline. Even if the mock-up in the Post was absolutely awful.

“You’re going to have to get used to that eventually,” Emma mumbled, eyeing Killian cautiously when there was an eight-year-old draped halfway down his back. “And you’re absolutely going to dislocate your shoulder.”

“I am not the only reason we’re here, Swan.” It was a several-months-old argument now, a back-and-forth Emma couldn’t seem to understand or get the upper-hand in. He was incredibly stubborn. And incredibly wrong.

The NHL wasn’t going to let them go.

Something about injuries and stopping the season for two weeks in the middle of February and whatever the Bruins owner said about Olympic ratings that had earned its own fairly horrible mock-up on the back page of The New York Post.

There’d been a decision – no pros in the Olympics and that was that.

Until Killian.

He talked to front office and answered every single question the media asked, crowding around his locker and demanding thoughts and opinions and what was he going to do about it? He fixed it. He went on the record and talked about what it meant to be an Olympian and how he wasn’t going to give up on an opportunity like this, no matter what the league said.

And other players followed.

It was like a wave – everyone responding and answering and there was some kind of petition that Killian absolutely refused to call a petition, promising it’s just names, love whenever she asked about it. It was a lot of names.

All of them agreeing with Killian Jones and he was the only one who seemed even remotely surprised when he ended up with another “C” on his Olympics jersey.

“Well, that’s not true at all is it?” Regina muttered and Emma threw her a thankful smile. Killian groaned. Although that might have been because of Roland.

“Why aren’t you just accepting this?” Emma asked, doing her best not to shout the words at him. He still looked a little shellshocked after the phone call that morning and she’d come out of the shower to find him sitting rail-straight on the corner of the bed, staring at his phone again.

And it had been unnaturally silent from Colorado.

She was going to figure this out. As soon as they finished media day. And Ruby got to the lobby. And she made sure that Scarlet was wearing a tie and Phillip didn’t try and crash their media scrum and eventually they’d have to see the hockey arena, but that was, apparently, an hour away and Emma might have been excited about the Olympics, but driving an hour through South Korean mountains every day wasn’t something she was particularly looking forward to.

Oh and the opening ceremonies.

Obviously.

That had its own to-do-list though.

“Because it’s not true,” Killian said, answering the question she’d almost forgotten she’d asked, mind racing through lists and schedules and videos that were slated to get sent to Merida at regular intervals because, God help them all if they spoiled the Olympics.

NBC would sue them.

“There was a petition, Killian!”

“A list of names.” “Jeez.” “I only said what all of us were thinking.” “But that’s exactly what I’m talking about! No one else did. You did and you answered phone calls and sat in front office for hours all while you guys were still playing and still winning and we’re second in the Metro! God. This is a good thing. You did a good thing here, just accept it.”

He blinked once, mouth opening and closing three times before he took a step towards her and he couldn’t really touch her – he’d absolutely drop Roland if he did – but he stared at her, eyes tracing across her face like he was waiting for her to shout that she didn’t mean any of it.

She didn’t.

And she’d done enough shouting already that day.

Ruby was very late.

“I love you,” Killian said softly, leaning forward slightly she could hear and Roland squirmed again.

“If that’s supposed to end this argument, you’ve got another thing coming. And I love you too.” “Good to know.” She shook her head slowly and he needed to stop cheating like that, smiling at her and lifting up kids like they didn’t weigh anything or hurt his shoulder and she was halfway to kissing him in the middle of the hotel lobby when the door swung open a few feet away and a visibly frustrated Will Scarlet marched towards them.

“Gross,” he muttered, nodding towards Killian and Robin laughed softly under his breath. He’d been noticeably silent as well – leaving Emma to argue alone when he’d been known to just start humming My Country ‘Tis of Thee whenever he walked by Killian over the last few weeks.

“Scarlet, where is your tie?” Emma sighed, hitching up the bag on her shoulder. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket, firing off a text message to Ruby. It was just exclamation points.

“In my pocket, why?” “You have to wear it when you get there. Obviously.” “We’re in the lobby, Emma.”

“Give me your tie.” “What?” “Your tie, Scarlet. And did you really leave your phone in the States?” Will shrugged, stuffing his hand in his pocket and practically throwing the piece of fabric at Emma. “Belle’s going to be here next week. And you guys are all here anyway. Who else do I need to talk to?” She was going to make fun of him, something snarky and sarcastic and she couldn’t really bring herself to do it. The fire had, apparently, moved to the hotel lobby and Emma’s eyes darted towards Killian before she could stop herself.

He smiled at her.

A real, genuine smile.

Her heart flipped. If that was possible. Probably not. Maybe it was just more jet lag.

“Lean your head forward,” Emma said, swinging the tie around Will’s neck and tucking it under the collar of his shirt and, well, at least he’d brought a tie to begin with.

“Are we still on schedule?” Robin asked, rolling his shoulders and maybe they should get out on some kind of ice before the ceremonies that night. The entire lot of them looked like they were moving in slow motion.

“Barely,” Emma answered. “I don’t know where Ruby is. She was all about getting down here early and now she’s ignoring my messages. It doesn’t really matter though. We’re split up by team anyway, so you guys exist in your own Rangers world today and then it kind of shifts after we start officially playing.” “Who do we play tomorrow?” “Have you not looked at your schedule, Locksley?” Robin shrugged again and Emma sighed, trying to infuse as much Olympic drama as she could in the sound. It didn’t really work. Probably because she was trying not to choke Will and she was so goddamn happy she couldn’t really see straight or come up with a metaphor that didn’t include fire.

“Here,” Emma said, dropping her bag on the floor and bending down to grab a sheet of paper. She held it towards Robin expectantly and rolled her eyes when his gaze drifted towards Killian. “Don’t look at Jones,” she snapped. “He got you guys here, but this is my gig now. And my schedule.”

Will laughed, but he pressed his lips together tightly as soon as Emma turned on him, eyes narrowed and determination flashing through every inch of her. “Aye, aye, Cap,” he said, saluting with two fingers.

“I kind of like that,” Emma admitted and Killian practically beamed at each her. He hadn’t put Roland down yet, the kid humming what sounded like the national anthem against his shoulder. “Alright,” she continued, “since Ruby isn’t here yet, listen to how this is going to work. You guys are super psyched to be here, got it? We’re all psyched. The key word for today is psyched and no hits.” “That’s three words, Swan,” Killian muttered.

“Shut up. Psyched and no hits. Got it?” All three of them nodded. “Good. So you focus on those, you sit behind the desks, you do not use painfully adorable children as distractions. You say you’re all about America and you can’t wait to march around a stadium later on tonight because you all are so goddamn patriotic for the next two weeks that you could, at any given point, start reciting the Declaration of Independence..” “Cap probably could,” Robin laughed and even Regina couldn’t quite turn her laughter into a convincing cough quickly enough.

“Do we really have to wear those hats later?” Will asked. “Because those are awful.” They were. They were worse than awful. They were somewhere in the realm of comical and Emma was thankful she didn’t have to wear them, sitting in an NHL-provided seat with Ruby and Regina and the aforementioned painfully adorable kids later that night.

“The sweater is worse,” Killian added and Emma sighed. “I’m sorry, Swan. It is. Have you seen it?” “Obviously,” she said.

He was right about that too. The sweater was definitely worse. She was going to make them pose for pictures before they marched out.

“You have to wear the sweater,” Ruby announced, wearing Team USA merch and her nails matched her highlights almost perfectly. She looked like she was ready to rip apart several sweaters. At once.

“Where have you been?” Emma asked and Ruby held her hands up in mock surrender. “We’re going to be late.” “Clock watcher. Did we talk about the buzz words?” “All three of them.” “No hits,” Ruby said, half shouting the word at the Rangers first line. “And safety. Add that to the list too.” “Four words,” Killian mumbled, moving his eyebrows quickly when Emma turned to gape at him.

“Shut up, Cap.” “Jeez, everyone’s on edge today, huh?” Ruby narrowed her eyes, taking three steps towards him and resting a hand on Roland’s shoulder. “Hey, Rol,” she said, ignoring Killian completely. “Hook’s the absolute worst, huh?” “Nah,” Roland argued easily and Emma was smiling before she realized her lips had even moved. “He’s going to score, like, twenty goals. At least.” “That’s not what we agreed on, mate,” Killian muttered. “There aren’t that many games.” Will scoffed. They were five minutes behind schedule now. None of them seemed to care. The New York Rangers – collectively ignoring Team USA rules and regulations since before the Olympics even started. “And if he keeps holding you up there like that, Rol, he’s going to dislocate his shoulder," Will laughed. "Come on, get down before all the blood rushes to your head.” Roland grumbled, but he didn’t argue and Will got him back on the ground and upright – face just a bit more red than it probably should have been.

“One a game, right, Killian?” Henry asked, stretching his arms over his head. “Especially in pool play. You guys are going to roll in pool play,”

“Don’t mention that in media,” Emma said. Six minutes behind schedule. There were, according to the hour-by-hour calendar on her phone, already cars waiting outside for them. “And, you know, you never answered the question, Rubes.” Ruby’s mouth dropped open. She thought she’d gotten away with it. Like hell. Emma was going to, at least, get some answers.

She made a face, bright red lips twisted in thought and Emma was certain she was trying to look at anyone who wasn’t her. Robin kept staring at Killian.

“A,” Ruby answered after what felt like an actual eternity. “She’s very bored. And also I was dealing with Booth.”

“August Booth? And shouldn’t Ariel be asleep? Or sleeping? Or resting?” “Yes to every question you just asked.” “What’s the matter with Booth?”

“Throw a dart. Mad about whatever happened in the Village last night and having to get to media and he’s the only ‘Cane here because, you know, they’re the Hurricanes, so he didn’t want to go and that’s why I’m late. I was trying to convince him to show up.” “Jeez.” “Go ahead and apologize for all those awful things you were thinking about me being late. And be grateful front office traded Booth when they did so you don’t have to deal with him for the next two weeks.” Emma groaned, but Ruby smiled at her – some kind of all-knowing look that Emma wasn’t entirely certain she appreciated it, especially when her eyes kept shifting away from her face and back to Killian and they were ten minutes late now.

“That was some shit in the Village last night though,” Will muttered, only to be met with a handful of sighs and exasperated sounds. “God, Rol, hurry up and get older so I’m not the bad guy here anymore, ok?” “Take that back,” Regina snapped, tugging Roland against her side and brushing his hair out of his eyes. He didn’t appreciate that very much. And, it appeared, he and Henry had, finally noticed the bobsled in the corner of the lobby.

They got as far as halfway towards the thing before Killian and Robin moved, grabbing both of them around the waist and Emma mumbled athletes under her breath. Killian smiled at her. And Ruby was still staring at him.

Like she was waiting for something.

“Can we go, Lucas?” Killian asked. “Swan’s got a schedule to stick to.” Ruby scoffed, crossing her arms lightly, but she nodded. “Killian Jones, defender of American hockey and his girlfriend’s media schedule.” “Something like that.” “Yuh huh.” “Enough, Ruby,” Robin said, interrupting something Emma was certain didn’t make much sense. “We’ve got buzzwords to focus on, remember? Those are the only words we care about today.” She was definitely missing something. Maybe she’d call Mary Margaret before the Opening Ceremonies and force her to talk. Mary Margaret totally knew. Maybe. She looked just as confused as Emma had.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ruby muttered, sounding as disgruntled as she felt. She shot Killian one more look and he stared back, all blue and something that might have been steel and determination with Henry tucked against his side.

“You want to come with us, Henry?” he asked. “We can plan a goal-scoring strategy.” Henry nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, sure!” “Deal. You ready, Swan?” “I’ve been ready since we got down here.”

“Rude,” Ruby said, marching towards the doors and the waiting cars. “You can take Booth then, Emma. I’m not dealing with him for the next two weeks.”

Killian grinned at her, arm finding its way back around her shoulders and she could still feel the tension there, but he couldn’t seem to hold onto it, lips finding her forehead almost as soon as he’d pulled her against him.

They, eventually, decided on ten goals.

A nice, round number, that Killian seemed fairly confident he could hit if they, as promised, rolled through pool play.

They were totally going to roll through pool play.

She hoped no one said that at media.

And they were, absolutely, the last team to get there – several league officials swarming them as soon as the cars pulled up in front of the Olympic stadium, barely giving them a moment to take any of it in.

There was a lot to take in.

“Big isn’t it?” Henry asked, falling into stride next to Emma as soon as Killian was pulled towards a table and a sea of expectant reporters who were already mumbling about meeting deadlines stateside.

This time difference was going to be frustrating.

“It is the Olympics,” Emma reasoned. “I think they’ve got to make sure it’s appropriately overwhelming. Just wait until we get outside later on tonight. Or go see some mountains.” “We’re going to see mountains?” Emma nodded, hand falling on Henry’s shoulder as they stepped into the room and Killian was already grinning, sitting behind a table with Robin and Will on either side and they’d already used the word psyched twice.

“They said the thing,” Henry laughed.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they bet on it, honestly.” “Robin bet Will that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hit count under five in pool play.” “What? For real?”

Henry nodded, eyes darting towards Emma like he’d suddenly realized what he’d told her. “For real. Robin was telling Regina last night.” “Didn’t you sleep?” “Eh,” Henry shrugged and Emma tilted her head at the sound.

“What?” “Nothing,” he said quickly. Or, rather, immediately. He’d answered before Emma had even finished asking the question.

And the question was only one word.

“You sound like Killian,” she muttered, glancing towards the table of Rangers she was in charge of, each of them with matching smiles on their faces and perfectly knotted ties and they almost looked like Olympians.

They absolutely looked like Olympians.

She should be taking pictures. Emma grabbed her phone out of her bag, quickly filing away her determination to figure out what the fuck was going on and act like a goddamn professional for two seconds. She just didn’t have enough hands.

“Here,” Henry said, grabbing the bag off her shoulder and slinging it over his without a word. He pushed her phone into her hand and grabbed the camera she’d only been half instructed how to use when Mulan sat her down for two hours in her office a week before.

“Thanks, kid.” He shrugged again, but his face looked just a bit more red than usual. “You know,” Henry said slowly. “I could help. Maybe. If you want.” “Help? How?” “I’m taking a photo class at school. I mean, I’m not Mulan, but she’s let me do some stuff with her during games this season and when Killian’s sister was here after the Finals, she let me play around with her camera at the restaurant. She said I wasn’t bad.” Emma considered it for a moment, but the hopeful look on Henry’s face was enough to make the decision one of the easiest ones she’d been presented with in the last month – and she’d planned that whole outdoor practice in, like, two days.

She could use a bit of easy.

“Ok,” she said, handing Henry the camera and his eyes, somehow, got even wider. “I need pictures of our guys. And only our guys. The league sent photographers, but we want to make sure we’ve got enough stuff to fill a gallery every other day. Just keep snapping. Or whatever the technical term is.” “I think snapping makes sense.” “Let’s go with that then. Here,” she tugged her ID off her neck, slinging it over Henry’s head and it wasn’t, strictly, following the rules, but she only had so many hands. “So you can force your way into the scrum. If they don’t let you in, yell, and one of the guys will pull you up.” Henry looked vaguely affronted at that. “I can do it, Emma.” “I’ve got no doubt,” she promised. “Go snap.” He nodded once, eyebrows moving quickly and Emma pushed her heels into the ground so she wouldn’t delve into the deep end of sentiment. After all, it seemed everyone on this stupid team knew she something she absolutely did not.

Figured.

There were more questions and Henry made it to the front of the table without help from a single professional hockey player, all of three of them widening their eyes when he started taking photos. Emma kept her phone trained on the scene in front of her, sending out SnapChats and Instagram updates and the thing was starting to actually get hot in her hand, retweets and messages and, probably, chants of USA USA USA several thousand miles away.

Take that, Bruins general manager.

“You just letting kids do you job for you now?” Emma spun at the voice, mouth falling open and the breath rushed out of her quickly, arms flung around a body she barely gave herself a moment to even register.

She nearly dropped her phone.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, practically screaming the words in Graham’s face. Or his neck. She’d kind of buried herself against him.

Graham laughed against her, chest shaking with the sound of it as his arms tightened around her. “It’s the Olympics, Em. I think there are a lot of people here.” “That’s not even what I meant at all. Don’t you guys do media after us? That’s what the schedule said.” “Emma Swan, living life to a schedule.” “Nah,” she argued, glancing over her shoulder and Killian was answering another question, hand practically entrenched in his hair. Will kept making faces at Henry.

Graham hummed knowingly, following her line of vision and when she looked back he was smiling at her. “You happy, Em?” “Yeah,” she said. “Really.” “Good. Because your boyfriend’s made it so we can’t check each other in this thing and if you weren’t happy, I’d probably have to kill him on the ice.” “Stand down, Humbert. It’s fine.” “Yeah? You been on the internet recently?” Emma rolled her eyes, but she shrugged in response. “Yeah, we don’t do that much anymore. No one’s searching out headlines unless they’re also being used as name puns on the back pages of the tabs.” “I saw that picture,” Graham laughed. “Is Mary Margaret going to keep it forever?” “And ever, likely. But come on, how come you’re here early? Shouldn’t you be practicing or something? Seeing as you guys are going to get wrecked?”

Graham’s eyes flashed and his laugh was on the wrong side of incredulous. “Are you trash talking me, right now?” “I’m being paid very well to make sure that Team USA comes home well represented in the media and the best way to do that is if they win a medal, so, yeah, I’m absolutely trash talking.” “You know we both win medals if we get to the final.” “And I’m sure you’ll look very good with silver around your neck.” “Man, you are ruthless now, aren’t you? Took all that nice Vancouver out of you and replaced it with New York grit or something.” “Or something for sure,” Emma grumbled, knocking her knuckles against Graham’s shoulder. There was a “C” there. And if he thought she’d yelled loudly when he showed up during USA media day, it was nothing to whatever noise she made as soon as realization struck her. “When did that happen?” Graham shrugged, but Emma hit her fist against his chest and she was, at least, getting some answers. “Couple of days before we left. That’s actually why I’m here.”

“What?” “Rumor has it your team likes to bet on things.” “Oh my God,” she groaned, rolling her head towards the ceiling and only suddenly remembering she wasn’t SnapChatting. God, fuck SnapChat. “Is that what you were learning on the internet?” “Nah, that was something totally different.” Emma resisted the urge to ask about that, pointing her phone back towards the table and trying to work her way in between several different reporters at once. “Alright, go ahead, what’s the bet, then?” “You rolling right now?” “Obviously.” “Keep that thing on.” She barely had time to even consider a response before Graham was moving around her, twisting through the crowd and coughing loudly until the horde of media, finally, turned around to stare at him. Will made another face.

Henry kept snapping.

“Hey, other captain,” Graham said, striding towards the table with a grin on his face and, quite possibly, some sort of spring in his step. Emma did her best to keep her arm steady.

Killian pulled his hand out of his hair, running his fingers across his jaw. “Humbert.” “No, no, Captain,” Graham argued, tapping the patch on his jersey for extra emphasis. “They make you guys wear suits to media day? That’s kind of lame isn’t it? Very American. All strict and rule-abiding.” “Why are you here, Humbert?” “Captain. We, literally, just went over this. And I’m here to talk.” “In the middle of media day?” “Ah, well, I figured you guys could use some positive headlines before you deal with that almost-medal disappointment in two weeks.” “Did you honestly just come over here to trash talk, Humbert?” Will asked skeptically and the sea of media started muttering again, pushing reorders and phones forward and this would probably be all over the internet in minutes.

Emma kept updating Twitter. Her phone was probably going to combust at some point.

“Nah,” Graham said. “Not with you guys at least. Media relations and I already covered most of the trash-talking basics.” Killian’s eyebrows practically leapt up his forehead, peering above the crowd in front of him to meet Emma’s eyes.

He winked.

Idiot.

“Alright,” Killian said. “So if you’re not, actually, going to trash talk, what’s this about then?” “I’m here to make a bet.” Robin slumped in his chair, head falling onto his forearms and Emma was briefly concerned with how close he came to colliding to the table. Will made some kind of ridiculous noise, something that sounded a bit like a whoop and came complete with a fist pump, but Killian didn’t move an inch, staring at Graham with barely passing interest.

“A bet,” he repeated. “For?” “Pride and country, obviously.” “Oh, obviously.” Will grumbled, grabbing one of the microphones in front of him and practically leaning over the entire table. “What are your stakes, then? Can we get some maple candy out of it?” “Do you think all of Team Canada just came to South Korea with maple candy in their pockets?” Graham asked and a few of the reporters laughed. Emma’s phone would not vibrating. “Did you not?” “No.” “Stakes, Humbert,” Killian muttered and Graham grinned at him, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Captain versus Captain, right?” Killian nodded. “Good. Now, you guys have to win for this to work, understand?” Killian’s eyes flashed, all blue and determination and Emma wasn’t certain if Graham or the entire country of Canada had thought this through enough.

“Oh, that was a mistake,” Robin mumbled and Will chuckled softly.

“You’re evading,” Killian said. “Spit it out. And we’re totally going to win. Go ahead and print that, too. I’m psyched about how much we’re going to win.” Emma bit her lip, half a moment away from the edge of hysterical and she heard Regina’s heels before she started talking. “The tabs are going to love this,” she said, a hand on Roland’s shoulders and half a smile on her face.

“Twitter already does,” Emma added, nodding towards her phone and Ruby would be mad she was missing all the fun.

“Good. Maybe the SubReddit won’t act like some cesspool of rumors anymore.” “Yeah, I wouldn’t hold my breath on that.” “Did you look, then?” “Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I don’t look anymore. And David’s banned from telling me. Although he’s really worried about his data, so that might be part of it too.” “He knows it’s fine if he’s connected to wifi, right? That’s how the internet works.” Emma shook her head slowly. “I have no idea.” The conversation at the table hadn’t slowed down and the reporters were shouting again, voices overlapping as they tried to get quotes and a story and an angle that was, somehow, different from the person standing next to them.

“What is happening right now?” Ruby asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere with two phones in her hand and a clipboard tucked underneath her arm. She reached up to pull the pen out of Emma’s hair. “Don’t do that,” she chastised. “You’ll get ink on your face.” “They’re betting,” Emma answered, ignoring the ink jab and practically stuffing the pen back in her ponytail. There was nowhere else to put it anyway. And Henry still had her bag.

“Jeez, of course they are. You talk to Cap yet?” “What?” “Was that an answer?” “I don’t understand what the question was.”

“So that’s a no then,” Ruby said, leaning around Emma to stare questioningly at Regina. “You think that’s a no?” Regina hummed. “Seems like it.” “Are we done here?” Emma asked impatiently. “We’ve got some kind of bet to promo now and Mer’s going to be literally up in the middle of the night to post video.” “You’ll get video, Em,” Ruby said, resting what was probably supposed to be a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Come on we’ll go corner them now that they’ve broken free of the horde. Maybe Mer can get some sleep.” “She’s absolutely sleeping in her office.” “I know she is. Let’s go.”

The stakes were, apparently, relatively easy. Captain versus Captain, America versus Canada, and they both seemed fairly confident they’d be playing in each other in the gold medal game. Whoever lost sang – loudly.

The loudly, it appeared, was the key to the whole thing.

“We have to, and I’m quoting here, enthusiastically sing the other country’s national anthem after the medal ceremony,” Killian explained a few minutes later, staring into the camera Emma had held in front of him like he was tortured by media relations. Or community relations. The specifics of her job were a bit more expansive when it came to the Olympics.

“That’s it?” Emma asked.

“Were you looking for more? It’s not my bet. I’m just agreeing to stakes, for the pride of America or whatever.” “Ok, see that didn’t sound very psyched.” “I’ve said the word psyched so many times today, it doesn’t even sound like an actual word anymore, love.” Emma rolled her head, lolling it towards her slumped shoulders and he totally knew what he was doing. They wouldn’t be able to use that part now. “Jerk,” she muttered, cutting the end of the video off and sending it to Merida with an added get some sleep, Mer, God at the bottom.

“Ah,” Killian laughed, tugging on his tie as he took a step closer to her and kissed her hair. “And I here I was under some impression that you were defending my honor before.” “America,” she corrected and she probably appreciated the smirk more than she should have. “I was defending America. And you’re far too competitive for your own good.” He shrugged, tie, finally undone and just hanging around his neck like it was teasing Emma. They had ceremonies to deal with and she was still as tired as she’d been when she’d woken up, but she’d been drinking coffee nonstop and and she’d, eventually, stopped yawning every other minute. “You know how I feel about a bet, Swan. Humbert questioning my captaincy.” “Did he do that? I must have missed that part.” Killian narrowed his eyes, hands landing on either side of her hips and that tie was an absolute joke. She pulled on one end before she could even consider all the reasons she shouldn’t have. “Are you defending the enemy, love?”

“The Canadians are the enemy now?”

“When it comes to forcing me to sing a national anthem, then, yes.” Emma nodded slowly, fingers still wrapped around that absurdly blue tie and her phone buzzed with Merida’s response. “Ah, well, good thing you guys are going to win then, huh?” “A guarantee, love.” “Leaves little room for doubt.” “That is kind of how that works.” “Down with Canada or whatever.” “That’s the spirit,” Killian muttered, words barely audible when he pressed his lips against hers, fingers brushing up her spine and she’d forgotten about the tie entirely. She could feel him everywhere, jacket forgotten somewhere behind them and she hadn’t noticed that he’d undone the buttons at the top of his shirt either.

There wasn’t a playoff beard, just scruff and slightly-longer-than-normal hair and Emma’s fingers carded through it and thumb brushing against his jaw, earning a very specific type of groan from him. He tightened his grip on her waist, arm finding its way around her and she barely had time to marvel at that before she found herself pulled flush against him, heels dragging across the floor.

There was no blue carpet in the Olympic media room.

There were, however, probably cameras. And neither one of them could seem to bring themselves to care, wrapped up in each other and the feel of it all and he was way too good at this.

They were way too good at this.

God, they’d made out at the Olympics now. Add that to the list.

“Come on, Cap,” Emma mumbled, breathing out the words when her lungs started protesting at a distinct lack of oxygen. “You’ve got to get in that absolutely awful sweater.”

He didn’t look bad in the sweater. Of course he didn’t. The hat, however, was a different story, tugged tight over his ears and she could barely see Killian’s hair anymore and that was, well, wrong.

He’d grumbled when she started to laugh about it.

And then sighed dramatically as soon as Robin and Will saw, both of them doubled over as they tried to pull their phones out and update Ariel on this latest Olympic development. Emma sent the picture to the Vankald family group chat.

“How long until they come out out?” Roland asked hours later, photos sent and social media updated and Emma sank into one of the chairs in the league-provided seats after nearly sprinting up several flights of stairs to see some of the Opening Ceremonies before she missed too much.

“Soon, Rol,” Regina answered. “They’ve got to go in order.”

Ruby laughed, feet pressed up on the back of the seat in front of her and no one would be able to question where any of their allegiances lied. They were all practically a walking American flag at this point.

That was probably for the best because if media day was chaotic and jam-packed, then the Opening Ceremonies was somewhere in the realm of decidedly overwhelming, a stadium packed close to bursting, filled with screaming fans and languages and faces, all of them jumping and shouting even louder whenever their country made its way into the stadium.

It was almost painfully patriotic – more chants of USA USA USA – and Emma tried to take it all in, this big and important and meaningful moment.

So, naturally, her phone buzzed.

“God, Em, silence it,” Ruby groaned, but she was staring at her own phone, fingers flying across the screen. Emma didn’t bother answering.

Did you know that the number four is unlucky in South Korea?

She pulled her lips back behind her teeth, smile tugging on her mouth and her stomach flipped at the message, something about sentiment and that big and important and meaningful moment she was certain this was.

Did you just know that?

Are you not impressed, Swan?

You looked it up, didn’t you?

You’re not countering with your own fact, love, I’d say that means you’re rather unprepared for the moment.

I have had some other things going on. Norway has won more medals at the winter games than any other country. So add them to the list of countries you hate.

I don’t hate any countries. I am just trying to bring hockey glory back to America.

And avoid singing.

That too.

Did you really look something up?

The responding message didn’t come for what felt like several hours, Emma’s phone resting in her palm while she watched a country she’d never heard of march into the arena. She didn’t realize what had happened until Roland started yelling – hands moving quickly to get both Regina and Emma’s attention – and Henry was standing too, camera in hand and smile on his face and even Ruby had pulled her feet back to the ground.

Emma couldn’t see him, even when she stood up and, for the second time that day, everything seemed to shift with her. She gripped the chair in front of her, leaning forward slightly and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain her center of gravity.

“You alright, Em?” Ruby asked, concern flooding her voice and Emma didn’t open her eyes when she nodded.

The music had shifted at some point – something loud and boisterous and Emma was fairly certain she could feel it in her head. Or that might have just been her pulse. She couldn’t really breathe.

“Fine,” she bit out, but she didn’t stand up either and she could feel Roland’s hand on her back. That might have been Henry actually. “It’s just very high up. Vertigo or something. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor.” Ruby didn’t seem convinced. She was texting again. “If you text Killian about this,” Emma hissed, sinking back into the chair when Henry pushed her towards the seat. “I will actually push you out of the stadium.” That worked.

“You're fine,” Ruby muttered, stuffing her phone back in her pocket like that proved it.

Emma’s phone buzzed in her hand and she couldn’t see Killian, but the American contingent was a sea of red and white and blue and that God awful sweater and she almost felt patriotic. She also felt a bit sick to her stomach, but it was fine. She’d just had too much coffee. And not enough sleep.

They were going to win a gold medal.

She glanced down at her phone, swiping her thumb across the screen and the smile on her face made her feel just a bit better.

For you, Swan.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan #cs #cs fic #blue line olympics #no one can remember time differences #or stop trash talking

[thatonekawaiigirl13]

Who Said Death Was Easy? [Death Note] Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: Copycat

Keiko’s POV:

There were many members of the Japanese police force lying face down on the cold pavement all around Keiko. She didn’t have to try and check their pulse to realize that they were already dead.

Kira had gotten to them first, meaning that she was too late in trying to save them.

Tears were starting to form in her eyes, and she covered her mouth to try and keep from either retching or screaming. The smell of death could be quite overpowering, and she felt like she was simply about to go insane.

She closed her eyes a moment and tried to compose herself even though her heart was hammering about wildly in her chest and she could feel the pit of despair growing larger and larger in her stomach.

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again. Now slightly calmer, she stepped carefully over the bodies as she went deeper and deeper through the darkened alleyway, hoping to find a place where the remains ended

However, no matter what, there were always more bodies appearing on the ground that she had to try and avoid stepping on. They just didn’t stop coming, and she was now a long ways down the pathway.

“Just how many people did you kill?!” she called out, “I know you’re here, Kira! Answer me, dammit!

“That does not matter. What matters is...showing you that this is what happens to those that dare to try and cross me,” the voice said from the shadows behind her. She looked back, but she saw nothing, only the darkness of the night staring back at her.

Turning back around, she then saw the familiar faces of the Task Force materializing right in front of her. There was Mr. Yagami, with his glasses and dark furrowed eyebrows, Matsuda with that stupid grin of his, Ide with his odd lack of eyebrows, Mogi with his spiky, black hair pointing out in every direction, and Aizawa, with his afro and steep eyebrows. On the very end, there was L, who had a thumb in his mouth, his raven hair was mussed up and his dark eyes were staring straight into Keiko’s.

She reached out to them, but as soon as she was within arms length of touching them, they slowly disappeared back into the night without leaving a trace.

She heard a maniacal laugh ringing throughout the alleyway, “I just got rid of one of them, that damned Ukita and they’ll be next! You know, that is, if I don’t get to you first!”

“No! We’ll catch you, together as a team, as the Task Force! I swear, I won’t rest until you’re caught and arrested!” Keiko yelled out, looking out at the night sky as she did so. However, Kira didn’t give her a proper response, instead he started to laugh again, his laughter making her cover her ears.

“I’d like to see you try!” he said after a while. Keiko crumpled down onto the ground, defeated, grasping at her heart in pain. She could quite literally feel the life draining out of her. She opened her mouth, trying to scream, but nothing came out. What else could she do? She slowly started to close her eyes, letting death overcome her.

“Keiko-chan!” a voice cried out suddenly, and she could feel herself being shaken, “Keiko-chan! Please, wake up!”

“H-huh?” Keiko’s eyes bolted open, and she could feel the sticky sweat that had formed in the shape of a puddle clinging to the back of her shirt and to her forehead. The first thing she saw was Matsuda’s face hovering just slightly right above hers. His round, dark brown eyes were full of concern.

What the…?! It was just a dream? I must have fell asleep while L was going over the video tapes...but...it felt so real. Ugh, Keiko shivered, her mind was slowly trying to switch gears back to reality, I can’t let that nightmare actually become a reality. I can’t let Kira kill me, I can’t be one of his many victims. No, I refuse to let that be my fate.

As soon as Matsuda noticed she was awake, he breathed a sigh of relief, slumping over on the couch cushion next to her, “oh thank goodness, you’re finally up. You were moving around a little and making a lot of noise in your sleep, it sounded like you were having a-”

“Nightmare,” L finished for him, glancing at Keiko, who moved so that she was now sitting up on the couch properly, “anyway, it’s a good thing Matsuda-san finally woke you up. You were starting to distract me from my work. It would’ve irritated me.”

“Ryuzaki-san!” Matsuda called out, eyeing the great detective warily, “i-it’s n-not her fault she was having a nightmare! I have to admit, I’ve been having quite a few of them myself lately...anyway, I think we should send her home. It’s late, it’s already past midnight now.”

A couple seconds of silence passed, and Keiko glanced from L to Matsuda, still trying to process what what going on. She felt pretty groggy. While she had slept, the quality of her sleep had been poor. She fought a yawn and decided that coffee would be just the thing to wake her up. Stretching a little, she stood up and headed over to the coffee machine in the corner of the hotel room.

“No,” she heard Matsuda correct as she poured herself a cup.

He was now giving L a hardened look, glaring him down, “I take that back. We should have sent her back home hours ago, after she first showed up. She was crying when she came here, she was in no state to help us.”

“Are you quite done with your theatrics, Matsuda-san? I’m trying to work here,” L questioned darkly, glancing up from his papers to look over at Matsuda. He looked rather irritated that he was still being interrupted from his work. Clearly the last thing he wanted to do right then was to listen to Matsuda’s grumbling.

“No..I’m not...listen, Ryuzaki-san,” Matsuda continued, “it’s clear that she’s having a tough time right now, and she’s just a kid. Don’t you think she should have more of a break?! You’ve been pushing her pretty hard, even making her spy on Light while she’s supposed to be just on regular dates with him! It has to be rough on her, considering that her boyfriend is your primary suspect. And after what happened earlier tonight, well, as I said, you should have sent her home. She clearly isn’t ready to come back to the Task Force yet, it’s draining her.”

“Matsuda-san, you idiot. You’re talking like I’m the one who's responsible for her,” L responded, glancing over at Keiko. She could see a yet another quick flicker of annoyance cross his face, “do I look like her mother? Anyway, I clearly told her the very first day I met up with her that she would be able to come and go as she pleased. Therefore, it’s up to her, not up to me. She came back today on her own accord, and while her interruption earlier was rather abrupt, Keiko-”

“Keiko is right here and she can hear you two, you know,” Keiko interrupted irritability after taking a sip of her coffee and realizing they were talking about her, “Ryuzaki’s right though, Matsuda-san. I’m here because I want to be here. While I admit that living a double life is hard, there’s no other way I’d have it. I can’t just sit still, not when I now have the chance to help you guys out. Please have faith in me and understand, I want to...no...I have to prove myself and make my father in heaven proud. I have to prove that I’m not just a ‘kid’, like you say I am.”

If my father were alive, even though I didn’t really have a chance to get to know him that well, considering he was always traveling around for cases and I was fairly young when he died, I have a feeling that he would want me to investigate this case. After all, my mother says I get my sense of justice from him. Matsuda has to understand that I can’t step down now! I have to survive until the end, until justice is finally served!

Matsuda sighed, running a hand through his already mussed hair, “But Keiko-chan, you’re the youngest one here, it might be a bit too much for you. U-Ukita-san just...well..you know...and this case, I suspect that it will only get worse from here on out...look at how it’s starting to affect yo-”

“Mind your own business, and don’t be stupid, Matsuda-san! I’ll be fine,” Keiko snapped out. She then frowned, feeling instant regret for how agitated she just sounded. The investigation had apparently been wearing her down more than she realized.

Dammit…the last thing I want to do is make him feel bad, L already does a good enough job of that. He only means well.

She then spoke softer, but was still determined in her response, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I know you only mean well, you always do...but please, don’t worry about me. Besides, even if I’m the youngest one here, I’m not the only one who is having a hard time. What about you and the rest of the Task Force, especially Yagami-san? Light may be my boyfriend, but that’s his son that is under the most suspicion right now.”

“She has a point you know. It’s not just her that’s going through a hard time right now. I think the Chief is having a pretty difficult time himself considering he already worked himself into a heart attack...therefore, Matsuda-san, I’m sure Kagami-san knows and understands the dangers of this investigation,” L commented, no longer bothering to look up from his computer screen, “and she already said that she wants to be here, no, that she is determined to be here. So just let her be. No matter what, there’s a one hundred percent chance you won’t be able to change her mind.”

Matsuda opened his mouth to speak, but he decided against it when he saw Keiko looking rather fiercely in his general direction as she sipped her coffee. He just sighed, giving into defeat.

“Thank, you, Ryuzaki-san,” Keiko muttered, realizing she had just won with Ryuzaki’s help. She moved closer to where he sat in his chair, getting a closer look at the raven haired detective.

“There’s no reason to thank me,” L replied, his eyes still glued to the screen despite her close proximity, “I didn’t do anything spectacular. All I did was state the truth of the matter.”

“I guess so,” Keiko started, throwing away the paper coffee cup in a trash can nearby his desk. She then took a good look around the room, “anyway, why is it just us here? Where are the others?”

“Well, Mogi-san is at the police station. Chief Yagami decided that it would be best that, unless Ryuzaki-san has a meeting that he wants us all present for, we should have someone at the station at all times, just in case,” Matsuda explained, “as far as the rest, they went back to the station as well for a bit, as they had to sort out some official business with the higher ups because Uk-Uki...well they should be coming back shortly.”

“Like right about now,” L announced, looking over at the door.

Keiko glanced behind her, watching as the door slowly opened, revealing a tired looking Mr. Yagami, with Ide and Aizawa trailing behind him.

“Did we miss anything?” the chief questions, walking over to where Ryuzaki was sitting.

“No, on the contrary, you’re right on time,” L responded, holding up one of the tapes, “I’ve just finished reviewing the tapes...they were definitely interesting.”

The rest of the Task Force gathered around L, watching him as he set the tapes on the desk out in front of him, “you see, if the police had said yes, and cooperated with Kira, then tape number three was supposed to be aired. If the answer was no, then tape four. Tape three details the conditions for cooperation, quite simply, he is requesting that we broadcast the names of more criminals every night on the news. He seemed particularly interested in criminals that have assaulted others, criminals who have hurt or taken advantage of the weak and defenseless. Of course, Kira would play the role of a judge in all of this. Furthermore, as proof of the police’s cooperation, he wanted the police force and L, myself, to appear on T.V. and announce to the world that they sided with Kira.”

“What about the contents of tape four, if we had said no?” Mr. Yagami questioned.

L held up the tape, “well, it was more or less the same thing, just a different wording.”

“So bottom line was, he wanted you guys to show your faces on T.V…,” Keiko replied.

Interesting indeed...this definitely proves that Kira at least needs a face to kill someone...but how about a name…? Come to think of it, Ukita-san didn’t have his real name on him when he died, all the policemen have been carrying fake badges around with them...looking at all the past suspects, Kira has needed both a name and a face, how come that suddenly changed? And these video tapes aren’t characteristic of Kira at all either...

The sound of L’s voice interrupted Keiko from her thoughts, “yes, it would appear that way. He needs our faces to kill us in case we were to anything suspicious, so in other words, he would be holding our lives as insurance if we had said yes.”

“That’s just sick,” Matsuda muttered, earning him the stares of everyone else in the room, “what? It’s true, I’m just the only one vocalizing it.”

L pointedly continued on, “Yagami-san, it should go without saying that the answer is no. Please, give Sakura T.V. the okay to play tape number four tomorrow on the news. Oh, and Watari-san? Please get me some cake...”

How could he even think about cake even at a time like this? Keiko wondered, giving him a strange look.

“What?” L questioned, “I can have Watari get you a slice of cake as well, all you have to do is ask...if that’s why you’re staring at me.”

Keiko just shook her head, “no thank you.”

A few minutes and a slice of cake later, L turned on one of the T.V.’s in the hotel room, popping in the fourth video tape to show the rest of the Task Force, “I think that it is unfortunate that your answer is no. It is clear that the police wish to oppose me. This will not go unpunished. So I will start by taking the life of either the director general of the National Police Association or the detective known as L who is currently leading the investigation against me. The director general or L? Who will pay the price for your refusal to cooperate with me? You have four days to decide.”

With that, the tape ended, going to static. L turned off the T.V. and faced the Task Force.

“Given the options, I would think that the top police officials of all the nations would probably rather have me appear on T.V. rather than you, Chief Yagami. That would be the most reasonable and right choice,” L said, taking a bite of the strawberry cake in front of him, “well, we still have four days before before it happens. Perhaps we can find some countermeasure...I mean, after all this, it would really annoy me if I am killed by the first person to jump on the Kira bandwagon.”

“Ryuzaki-san, what exactly do you mean by that?” Light’s father asked, leaning forward closer towards L.

“I mean that there is a strong possibility that this Kira is a fake...no we should think of him more as a second Kira,” L calmly replied.

“A-a second Kira?” Matsuda furrowed his eyebrows, and Keiko could hear the collective gasps from the rest of the people in the room.

A second Kira…? Looking at the evidence, that could definitely be a possibility. It even makes a lot of sense.

“I don’t understand,” Aizawa commented, “why do you think that there’s a copycat Kira? Please explain it to us.”

Keiko jumped in, “I agree with Ryuzaki-san...let’s see...first of all there’s the fact that this whole broadcast was very unlike Kira, the Kira we have been searching for up until this point didn’t seem like someone who would pull a stunt like this, he even killed innocent people, which goes against his ideals.” She swallowed hard, “also, this Kira didn’t need Ukita-san’s real name in order to kill him,” Keiko finished, earning her a smirk from L.

“She has a point, a very good point. There is a strong possibility that this Kira may only need a face to kill someone, which pokes a hole in the theory that Kira needs both a name and a face to kill someone, which had been the pattern up until this point, indicating the chance of a second Kira,” L replied, “beyond that, I looked at the victims he used for his predictions on tape number one. Their purpose was to prove to Sakura T.V.’s staff that he is Kira. Both of the victims were only reported in tabloids and daytime talk shows, so they weren’t exactly hardened criminals. The real Kira has no need to prove himself using such insignificant criminals, but in the second Kira’s views, he wanted to make absolutely certain that he didn’t predict the death of a criminal that the original Kira might end up killing first.”

“Hmm...Ryuzaki-san, if you had to put a number on it...what are the chances that there is a second Kira?” Mr. Yagami asked, adjusting his glasses.

“I’d say it’s...more than seventy percent. I really don’t like the way he operates. As Kagami-san said, it’s not like Kira. Aside from killing those who were going after him, he has stayed away from killing the innocent. Anyway, if we can capture one of the Kiras, I think that we will gather a lot of insight as to how to catch the other one.”

L paused for a few moments, letting his words sink in before he continued on again, “Chief Yagami, I mentioned before that I was thinking of adding your son to the Task Force. I think that this would be the perfect time to do so. Therefore, may I ask your son to cooperate in this investigation? Oh, and Kagami-san, is this okay with you as well?”

Before Keiko could answer, the Chief looked over at Ryuzaki, “if you want my son to join the Task Force, does this mean that he has finally been cleared of suspicion?”

“Well...I can’t say that he’s been completely cleared, but to be honest, I could use his deductive skills.”

“If Light-kun wants to join, then so be it. It’s fine with me, and that means I no longer have to lie to him or spy on him for you. That would be some good news for me,” Keiko responded, looking at Light’s father, “unless you disagree with adding him?”

“No, no. I agree with you. Ryuzaki-san, if my son wants to cooperate with you, then I have no reason to stop you.”

“Good, good. However, please, neither of you tell him that this latest Kira might be a fake. I don’t want him to know that yet,” L said, polishing off the last of his cake and pushing the empty plate forward on the table, “I want to make it appear to him that we are still chasing after one Kira. Is that understood?”

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Yagami replied, and Keiko nodded, the wheels in her head were turning as she tried to figure out what L was thinking.

This has to be some sort of test...he must want to see what Light is going to conclude from all this. Seeing as he still suspects Light, if Light answers in a way that is suspicious to L, that could end up with L suspecting him even more...however, I still think that there’s not a big enough possibility that my boyfriend is Kira, so it should be fine...and if Light joins, I will no longer have to lie to him, and that’ll mean I will get to see him more, which is another plus! I think, ultimately, adding Light to this investigation will end up being a good thing. Hopefully, at least. Only time will tell.

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Fourteen

#death note #death note fanfic #death note fanfiction #who said death was easy #writing #story #post #personal #mine #my works #chapter thirteen #copycat #kira investigation #lxoc #matsudaxoc #lightxoc #oc #light yagami #l lawliet #touta matsuda #seiko matsuda #soichiro yagami #drama #romance #fanfiction #fanfic #dating #aizawa #task force

[evenifyoudontfic]

Even If You Don’t: Chapter 24

Previous chapter

Mari’s POV

I trudged back to the stage where everyone else still was, wiping my eyes the best I could before I got there. I shoved my hands into the pocket of the hoodie I’d stolen from Calum’s suitcase that morning and tried to make it seem like nothing had changed, but I wasn’t sure if I was doing a very good job.

“Mari!” Michael chirped when he noticed I was coming back, “We were thinking about going out to eat to celebrate the last show of the tour! Are you in?”

“I’m kinda tired,” I answered quietly, “I think I’m just gonna go back to the hotel.”

“You’re still gonna come over to our house tomorrow though, right?” he pouted, “I’m gonna miss having an actual challenge when playing video games with someone.” Luke scoffed, but didn’t say anything. My heart started racing when I heard Calum coming up behind me, but I shrugged it off the best I could.

“Yeah, Mikey,” I promised him, “We’re still coming over.” Michael smiled brightly, bouncing over to me and hugging me tightly.

“See you tomorrow, kitten,” he squeezed me lightly as my arms wound around his midsection.

“You’re more of a kitten than I am, Mikey,” I reminded him.

“But like, a bad ass kitten,” he stated, letting go of me. I rolled my eyes, making him laugh. “Do you want me to ask Bryan to drive you back to your hotel?” he asked.

“Nah,” I shook my head, “I’d rather walk.”

“Okay, well, when you get lost, call me,” he snickered, earning himself a slap to the chest from me. “Be careful,” he said seriously, kissing the top of my head lightly, “We’ll have Bryan come by the hotel and bring you over tomorrow.” I simply nodded, hugging Luke and Ashton and telling the girls I’d see them when they got back. I didn’t even so much as glance at Calum as I left, which understandably worried the group, but they clearly decided not to ask about it.

~

Kaylynn’s POV

“Mari, we’re back,” I announced quietly as Kenzie, Vanessa, and I entered the room.

We found her lying on her bed and figured she was already asleep, so Kenzie and Vanessa went across the hall to their own room, not wanting to wake her up. I put my key card on the nightstand, grabbed my pajamas from my suitcase, and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When I came back into the room, I heard a quiet sniffling sound and my heart dropped. Mari was never a person to really cry – especially when she knew there were other people around – so hearing her do it now was a little surprising.

“Mar,” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her back. I put my hand on her shoulder, “You okay?”

“No...” she whimpered honestly, but not turning to face me.

“What happened?”

“Y-You know how Cal and I disappeared f-for a minute before we all l-left the venue?” she asked. I was silent, but she could tell I nodded. She obviously didn’t know how to ease into what she had to say, so she just said came out and it. “H-He broke up with m-me.” My jaw practically hit the floor – that was the last thing I would have ever assumed would come out of her mouth in that moment.

“He what?!” I whisper-yelled. Mari finally turned onto her back so she could wipe her eyes with the sleeves of Calum’s hoodie.

“H-He said that he doesn’t th-think we’ll be able to handle b-being 11,000 miles f-from each other all the- all the t-time,” she told me.

“What the fuck?” I whispered to myself before turning my attention back to the girl in front of me.

I could clearly see how hard she was trying to keep herself from falling apart, and that only made me more upset at Calum for doing this to her. Mari was the strongest person I knew and the fact that someone had this much of an effect on her showed me how much she really cared about him.

“It’s okay to cry, Mar,” I said softly, moving so I was completely sitting on the bed now, propped up against the headboard, “It’s only us in here. Just let it out.” Mari’s bottom lip trembled and the waterworks quickly followed. I pulled on her so her head was on my lap and I just let her cry herself to sleep.

10 minutes later, when I was 100% sure that she were asleep and hadn’t just run out of tears, I carefully lifted her head off of my thighs and made sure she at least looked comfortable before I grabbed my keycard and left the room. I knocked quietly on Kenzie and Vanessa’s door and luckily, they weren’t asleep yet.

“Kay, what’s wrong?” Kenzie asked as I barged into the room the second after the door opened.

“I’ll explain in a few,” I said, pulling out my phone to text Michael.

Michael texted back almost immediately.

I scoffed at the message on my screen.

It took Michael a moment to respond, probably confused as to what I meant by that.

~

Michael’s POV

“Emergency meeting with the girls, guys,” I said, walking into the kitchen where Luke and Ashton were. Calum wasn’t there – he was upstairs asleep as far as the rest of us were concerned – so I knew I didn’t have to check to see if he was there beforehand.

“What for?” Ashton asked.

“Don’t know,” I shrugged, “But I told Kay we’d be there in 5.”

“Okay, I’ll go see if Cal’s awake.”

“Cal’s not invited,” I informed them.

“Why not?” Luke cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, but apparently, Mari’s not gonna be there either,” I shook my head, “Kay said to go to Vanessa and Kenzie’s room and be quiet in the hall so we don’t wake her up.” Luke and Ashton glanced at each other for a moment before grabbing their jackets so we could head to the girls’ hotel.

Upon arriving, I texted Kaylynn as promised and she gave me the room number. She met us at the elevator, reminding us not to make a lot of noise as we approached the room. I looked at the door across from the one she was taking us to, wondering why Mari and Calum weren’t in on this ‘emergency meeting’.

“So can we know what’s going on now?” I asked, earning a chorus of agreements from Luke and Ashton as well as Kenzie and Vanessa, who apparently didn’t know what was happening either.

“We have a problem,” Kaylynn informed the group as we all sat on the ends of the two beds, standing in front of us.

“And I’m assuming that problem involves Mari and Calum somehow?” Kenzie wondered.

“Earlier this evening, Calum and Mari disappeared to a dressing room,” the bassist started, “One can only assume that when a couple sneaks into an empty dressing room, they’re going to-“

“Kay!” Vanessa exclaimed, “We don’t want to know what they did!”

“Oh, but you do!” she scoffed, “You see, my dear friends, our young, star-crossed lovers were not doing things that they would be embarrassed of if we were to find out about them – no, no, no. They were in there because he broke up with her.” Everyone’s jaws dropped slightly and we all stared at each other in shock.

“I don’t know what I was expecting to hear,” Ashton said softly, “But that was not it.”

“Calum...broke up with Mari?” I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around it.

“Why would he do that?” Kenzie whispered.

“Yeah,” Vanessa added, “They seemed so happy.”

“11,000 miles was apparently a deal-breaker for him,” Kaylynn answered.

“So what do we do?” Luke spoke up, “Like... Do we try to make them work it out before you leave or...”

“Won’t that just make them more upset though?” Kenzie wondered, “I mean, now that I think about it, Mari did seem pretty out of it before she came back here earlier. What if forcing them to talk to each other just makes it worse?”

“I think if they really want to work it out, they will,” Kaylynn sighed, “And if they don’t... Well... I guess that’s just it.”

“I agree,” Ashton nodded solemnly, “And I think that if Mari doesn’t want to come over tomorrow, then we shouldn’t force her.”

“Agreed,” everyone said simultaneously. The boys and I got up, saying goodbye to the girls and leaving the room to head back home, unsure of what we were going to say to Calum – if we had anything to say to him at all.

no one reads this so i might as well post it today lmao

Next chapter

#calum hood #5sos #evenifyoudontfic #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum fanfic #calum hood fan fiction #calum fic #calum fan fiction #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos fan fiction #sounds live feels live #slfl

[twentyonepilots-imagines-etc]

Passed Out (pt. 1)

Hey there! This is my first post so I hope you like it! Here goes nothing…

A/N: Beware, this is very long

Word Count: 2518

You had been waiting for tonight for months; ever since you bought the single (surprisingly cheap) GA ticket about 3 months before. Twenty One Pilots was your all time favorite band, and the you had worked extra shifts and endless hours to save up for what would probably be the best night of your life.

You unfortunately couldn’t find anyone to go with you, so you’d be going alone; which was totally okay, because you knew you’d make friends while waiting in line. You also owned a fan account which thrived at 20k followers, so maybe somebody would recognize you while standing in line.

It was 3pm, and it was hot. You’d been standing there for at least 4 hours, and you’d been on the road since 6am that same morning, and you didn’t have time to stop for food or water. You had to get there, get a hotel, and find a parking spot once you got to the venue, which was very hard to do, and very time consuming. You felt sweat dripping down your face in the 95 degree heat, but you were determined to endure it. You had taken shelter from the heat beneath a small tree next to the sidewalk where there were at least 100 people in front of you, and you had your head tilted upward towards the sky, resting on the tree’s trunk.

“Are you alright?” You heard a girl next to you ask. You looked up into the dark brown eyes of a girl who was decked out in merch with her neck and hands painted black, which she also combined with the red that usually surrounded Josh’s eyes. She had short dark brown hair that didn’t go past her jaw. Her mouth was turned down in a grimace (which was probably from how terrible you looked) and her eyes were genuine with concern. You smiled at her worried expression, knowing how worn you must look.

“Yes, thank you. What’s your name?” You asked before an awkward silence ensued. The expression that had previously been on her face faded and was replaced with an eager smile.

“My name is Hannah. What’s yours?”

You responded with your name without hesitation; you may have just found your buddy for when you got to your seats.

“That’s a really pretty name.” She smiled sweetly. Her positivity alone made you happier. You decided to fight the heat and stood back up next to Hannah and joined her in line. While you were waiting under the hot sun, you learned that she was also here alone, and that she also snatched some really good GA seats. She told of her past experiences at twenty one pilots concerts; Tyler stopping the show to move people who weren’t waiting in line to the back, holding Tyler’s hand during Holding Onto You (hilariously ironic), holding up Josh’s drum set during Ride. You were very envious of her experiences, but you were also, of course,  very happy for her.

As the line grew and grew, the temperature rose and the tension also grew. Numerous fans began to get irritated at others, almost starting fights in some instances. Everybody was anxious to get inside the venue so you could get good seats and start to cool off at least a little bit. Finally, at 5pm, the doors opened, and the once organized line was a clump of eager fans, pushing into the venue doors and past security guards to the pit where you could choose your own seating. You were proud to say that you and Hannah had run right along with them, and ended up getting very good seats; second row, just a little bit to the left of the center.

You were very excited at this fact, because you were just where Josh would be drumming during the Trees finale, probably close enough to touch Tyler during Holding Onto You, and maybe be beneath Josh’s drum island.

You slid your palm across your face and wiped the sweat onto your shirt. You ignored the tiredness from waiting all day without any food or water; you knew your body, and you knew you’d be fine. People started piling into the arena all around, crowding you in to Hannah and other fans you’d never met before. The noise level in the large room rose as more excited fans entered, ready for the time of their lives.

Before you knew it, the opening band had come out (a name you couldn’t remember because you were too focused on when twenty one pilots would come out) and was getting the crowd pumped up. And then, within about an hour, the opening band was finished and the audience cheered in encouragement as they vacated the stage, which was almost ready for your two favorite people to come out and wow everybody.

The stage went dark. Cheers erupted from around the stadium. The eerie opening first note played. The four bass notes from Fairly Local rang out and the three dots at the top lined themselves up. The cheers grew. Hannah was screaming and so were you. The next three dots spawned as the next four notes blasted through the crowd. The dots that had formed eventually molded into one red dot, and then Blurryface appeared on the screen and was singing his part in Fairly Local. It then cut off and everyone finished the verse that he had failed to finish. The concert had begun.

~~~~

You had the best time throughout the whole concert. There was not one time that you didn’t enjoy yourself. Of course there were many times that your vision had become blurry and you felt like your knees would just cave at any second, but you ignored it and hardly even noticed because you were mesmerized with the two boys on stage just about 20 feet away.

You were currently watching Josh drum and Tyler was nowhere to be found. He had just been on stage singing Car Radio, but now he wasn’t singing, and he wasn’t on stage. Then, the crowd started screaming, and everyone in the pit turned around with their heads looking upward.

You followed their gaze to see Tyler standing on a platform so high up that he was level with the people sitting in the upper level seats of the stadium. He was looking around at the crowd like he does and he began screaming before he eventually ripped the mask off. He finished the song and was left with the audience cheering for him. He looked out over the crowd and smiled in satisfaction and awe at all the people he accumulated over the years. He tilted his head up and smiled at the sky. Then, the spotlight shut off and everyone’s attention was turned back to the stage, where Josh started his drum battle with himself.

Of course, Josh won, and you watched the digital Josh’s head blow up and leave a bloody stain on the wall behind him. Then, the stage went black again, and the crowed cheered yet again. You realized now that you had an awful headache, and your hand went to your head where you started massaging your temples, trying to soothe the throbbing.

But before you had much time to think about it, the stage lit up, and Tyler was behind his piano, playing Truce. The crowd of course went crazy. Then everyone around began singing along with him. You just couldn’t believe how amazing the clique really was. You’d seen Tyler and Josh in interviews talking about how they truly thought they had the best fans, and you’d always scoffed and said to yourself “yeah, right.” because you’d heard the worst stories about what some people in the fanbase did; complaining about not meeting Tyler after meeting Josh twice, crashing a private wedding for pictures, ripping up Tyler’s shirt etc while he was crowd surfing, and more. But after spending hours with these people, you realized that those few hellions did not represent the entirety of the clique.

You felt chilly, but you could feel beads of sweat forming on your forehead, eventually dripping down your face. Suddenly, your headache surged, and you felt like you were about to throw up. You hunched over, and your head spun. You fell to your knees and you faintly heard Hannah and a couple others gasp near you. Everything sounded echoey to you when you heard Hannah and other people around you calling out to security. Then, everything went black.

~~~~

Tyler’s POV

Everything was going great. The crowd was amazing, and so many people were there. Not only that but this crowd was different. They were more polite than some of the other crowds that we’ve performed for. And I really think that the more shows we played, the more enthusiastic and outgoing the audiences became.

I ran back from the platform after Car Radio, still blown away at our progress before I could take a short break then go back out on stage. I went to side stage and grabbed a water bottle and chugged about half of it, then I set it down on a small table next to the cooler I got it from. I turned around and watched Josh as he drum battled himself. Of course, I couldn’t see virtual Josh, but I could see actual Josh. I was proud of him. He’s definitely improved since the very first gig we played when drunk college kids tried to pee on his drums. I smiled to myself at the memory.

I heard the sound of virtual Josh’s head explode, and I took that as my cue to go back on stage. I went back out and positioned myself behind the same piano that I’ve been playing for years. Then, my face got warm as the spotlight settled on me, and I began to play Truce. Of course, the crowd cheered, but then quickly began to sing along with me.

I got lost in the music. My fingers flew over the keys and relief washed over me when I heard all of our fans singing along. What pulled me from my thoughts was the sound of several girls screaming for security. I thought that security could handle it, so I just continued playing.

Yet, the shouts to security increased and became more frantic. One person was screaming for water, but nobody came. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to make sure everything was okay.

I stood up from behind the piano and walked to the edge of the stage. “Stop! What’s wrong? Turn the lights on.”

The lights came up and singing stoped. The crowd was silent for a second, but I could hear a girl with short dark brown hair with her hands and neck painted black look up at me frantically, pointing down to the ground where there was a hole in the crowd. Other people surrounding the hole pointed down towards the ground, others screamed out for water, while some reached out to me. I looked to where people were pointing, and saw a girl laid there, passed out.

“Does she need to come out?” I asked the girl and the girl shouted back a high pitched yes. By now, the crowd had started to realize what was going on, and anxious murmurs erupted.

I turned to one of the men in security and told him to get her out of the pit. “B-bring her out. She needs to come out.” The crowd grew louder and they cheered for me in approval at my actions. I can’t have my fans passed out in the pit. I wanted to make sure that everyone was okay.

I walked back briefly to Josh to tell him that I’d be a minute before we restarted again. He looked a bit concerned but nodded.

I spoke to the crowd again. “Alright, so what we’re gonna do, is I’m gonna go over there, and uh, we’re gonna do that like cheer like you want me to come back out and stuff,” I said, and people laughed and cheered and I heard a few people say something about how sweet I was.

I followed the security guy as the lights went down and the crowd of course went crazy. The security guy carried her to side stage where I had previously been drinking water. He laid her on a small mat that had been put on a table in preparation of her laying there. He gently laid her on the mat, and I couldn’t help but grimace at her appearance.

She was extremely pale, her lips looking a little bit devoid of color. Her brow was damp, and when I put the back of my hand to her forehead, it was quite cold. Despite her condition, she was gorgeous. Blood rushed to my cheeks when I realized this and I turned to another security guard that had followed us in to make sure everything was okay.

“Do-do we need to call the medic?” I asked him to distract from my attraction to this girl. He hesitated before going to a phone by one of the doors. I watched at he dialed some number that would contact the medic that was here in case of emergencies.

I turned back to the girl and saw the first security guy checking her pulse to make sure she was alive I guess. And he didn’t show any signs of concern, and I was relieved. I was very happy that she was alright; almost a bit too happy.

I heard the crowd screaming and cheering for me to come out, and some were starting a chant, saying “come back out” repeatedly. But I wanted to wait for her to wake up so I could see if she was alright.

The medic arrived in about 2 minutes, and he checked her vitals. He said that she was alright, just dehydrated and weak. He instructed us to give her something to drink and something to eat when she woke up, and she would be fine. I nodded and thanked him before he went back to wherever he was before now.

I turned my attention back on the girl whose cheeks were regaining their color, which was a cute little shade of light pink. Her face was sculpted perfectly, her cheekbones high and making her face look godlike. Her lips were the cutest I’ve ever seen… her nose fit perfectly along with her lips.

What broke me from my thoughts was her eyelids fluttering. She was waking up.

To be continued…

~~~~

A/N: Hi there! Thank you for reading! I’m sorry that this chapter was so long. I would’ve finished the chapter, but I didn’t want to make it too long, so I decided to continue it later! I hope you liked it, and I’m actually feeling kind of dejected because I’m getting minimal reads. But, to those of you who do read, thank you so much! Please like, comment, repost, and keep reading!

~Sunshine

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Pilot episode (Spn)+mute reader

Dean was walking back to his car burdened with supplies. He puts the groceries in the trunk of the impala and pauses- he just heard something that sounded like a baby. Concerned as well as cautious the eldest Winchester follows the noise. In the tall grass Dean finds a baby that is less then a year old. The 19 year old Winchester spends over an hour trying to find the child’s parents with no prevail.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t belong here.” Sam answers tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N looks at Sam with tears in her eyes.

“Sammy.” She wails as he walks away. Dean kneels down in front of her and gently wipes away her tears.

“It’s okay Bedbug… you still got me.” He says gently scooping her up and allowing her to bury her face into the crook of his neck. The last word that Y/N ever said was Sammy- due to a terrible case of strep throat, the youngest Winchester was rendered forever mute. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 ‘Where are we going?’ You sign from the passenger seat one day.

“We’re getting Sam.” Dean replies. He knows sign language but he prefers actually talking to you since your ears work just fine. “You wouldn’t remember him- you were three when he left.”

‘Does that mean I’m going to have to sit in the back- where you can’t really see what I’m signing?’

“We’ll figure something out bug.”

'Doubt Sam knows sign… so that makes you my translator- again.’

“You say it like that’s a bad thing.” It’s quiet in the cab of the impala for a bit. “Hey I was thinking-” Dean starts to say.

'That’s always dangerous.’

“Choosing to ignore that. How about we go stay the night at a hotel, since we’ve been on the road for so long.”

'Now I like that idea.’ 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Dean POV- Once we get to the motel which isn’t that far from where Sam is, Y/N crashes on one of the two beds. Once I’m sure that she is asleep I leave the motel room to go find Sam. When I do find him, he is surprised to see me- and I’m surprised he has a girlfriend. While talking to Sam, I sign 'Dad is on a hunting trip’ just to see if Sam knows sign language. I am pretty certain that Sam just thought I did an elaborate hand gesture.

Sam is pretty adamant about not wanting to be pulled back into the family business. “You don’t have to come, but will you at least come say hello to Y/N?” I ask. Sam falters, he’s always had a bit of a soft spot for our little sister.

“Y/N is with you?” He asks. I nod in response. Sam’s girlfriend looks confused. “How old is she now? I mean the last time I saw her she was three.”

“Seven and a half, she’s going to be eight here pretty soon.”

“I pretty much missed our little sister growing up…” Sam would’ve stayed at school if it wasn’t for his girlfriend convincing him to go- just had be back before Monday. I drive back to the motel.

“Take the empty bed Sam.” I say.

“Where you going to sleep?” My younger brother asks.

“Y/N is used to sharing a bed with me.” I answer. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Sam POV- The way how Dean said that makes me wonder how many times over the last four years did the two of them had to share a bed. I also have to wonder if my little sister is already hunting. I manage to fall into a bit of a fitful sleep. When I wake up I notice that Dean is already up. Y/N on the other hand is still asleep. “Morning Sammy.” Dean says.

“Morning. Pipsqueak still asleep over there?”

“Yeah… don’t try waking her up, she is a sass queen when tired.”

“Okay then… she isn’t hunting yet is she?”

“Oh hell no. She had to tag along because Pastor Jim was busy, Bobby was on a hunt with Rufus and well you know how dad is. Besides I’m pretty much the only one that understands what she is saying.”

“What do you mean?” I ask my brows knitting together.

“You’ll find out when Y/N wakes up.” Not sure what my brother was meaning, I drop the subject. Y/N wakes up about half an hour later. “Morning sleeping beauty.” Dean says with a smile. Y/N does this elaborate hand gesture similar to the one Dean did last night. Causing Dean to laugh. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Your POV- “Morning sleeping beauty.” Dean says with a grin to you when you wake up.

'Oh go take your good mood and shove it somewhere.’ You sign in response. Dean laughs.

“Wow kiddo- isn’t it a bit early to be saying things like that.”

'Like that stops you. Who’s the moose?’

“Figured you wouldn’t remember him- but that wasn’t the wording I was expecting. That’s Sam.” You simply wave hello.

“I’m confused, why did Y/N just wave at me instead of saying hello?” Sam asks in response.

“Sam, Y/N did say hello. She lost the use of her vocal chords when she was three and a half.”

“How?”

“A severe case of strep throat. It was so bad that it permanently damaged her vocal chords.” Sam sits down on the other bed holding his head in his hands. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Sam POV- It feels like my heart just broke into three million pieces. First I find out that Y/N barely remembers me, then I find out that my sister became forever mute right after I left for school- on top of it all I don’t know sign language so I don’t understand what she is saying.

Y/N walks over to the bed I’m sitting on and sits down next to me. She signs something but to me it’s just hand gestures. “I don’t know sign…” I tell her. My seven year old sister’s slump, a look of dejection forms on her face. She turns to Dean and signs something towards him- he nods in response.

“Y/N asked if you are okay.” Dean says translating for her.

“It’s just a lot to process. I’ll be fine (Nickname).” I answer flashing her a small smile. Y/N smiles in return, she then signs something that I didn’t need Dean to translate for me, the only sign that I actually know. Y/N just signed I love you. I then pull my little sister into a gentle hug. “I love you too bug.”

“You understood that one?” Dean asks in surprise as I let Y/N out of the hug.

“That is the only sign I know.” I admit. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -no one’s POV- “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake hole.” Dean says to Sam.

'Unless you’re me.’ You text to Sam. Since you were sitting in the back and your brothers couldn’t really see you signing you went with the next best thing.

“I’m guessing that there are a few exceptions.” Sam says when reading the text.

“(Nickname) told on me?” Dean asks with a bit of amusement in his voice. Smiling to himself he turns on some music. You start signing along to it. The thing about signing to music is that it looks like choreography in its own way. Dean sees what you’re doing in the rearview mirror and smiles a little. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 By the end of the hunt Sam pops an unexpected question to Dean. “Can Y/N stay with me for a bit- to keep her out of hunting for a while longer.”

“That’s actually a good idea the only thing is you don’t know sign…” Dean trails off, glancing at your sleeping form before returning his eyes to the road.

“I don’t but Jess does.” Dean throws his brother a look.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

'It’s going to be lonely without her.’ Dean thinks to himself. You are awake by the time Dean parks in the parking lot next to Sam’s dorm. “Hey Buggy, you don’t mind staying with Sam for awhile do you?” Dean asks.

You smile slightly before texting 'no offense to Pastor Jim or Bobby but I’d rather spend time with at least one of my brothers then with them.’ Dean laughs when he reads the message. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Sam POV- Y/N takes my hand when the two of us get out of Dean’s car. I can’t help but smile at her- in which she smiles in reply. “Hey Jess I’m back… and well I brought someone I want you to meet.” I say when I enter my dorm. My girlfriend looks up from her homework and smiles at me, her eyes then fall on Y/N.

“Who’s this cutie?” Jess asks walking over to us.

“This is my little sister.” I reply. Y/N smiles at my girlfriend and signs something- no idea what she’s saying though. Jess smiles before she signs anything in reply I tell her that Y/N can hear just fine just can’t speak.

It takes my girlfriend a second to process this but she then chuckles to herself before replying. “Hello Y/N. I’m Jess.” My eight year old sister grins in response. Jess and Y/N talk for awhile up until Y/N is about to pass out.

“Okay kiddo, think you need to get some sleep.” I say when Y/N yawns for the twentieth time. Poor kid doesn’t get to sleep long- my dorm catches on fire. “Y/N, we need to get out of here.” I say shaking my sister awake. The look in her eyes is asking me what’s going on. I tell her I’ll explain later, I then tell her to get outside. Y/N does so, I don’t really know why I linger in the burning dorm. I’m not really surprised Dean shows up and tells me to get my ass outside. I do just that. I look around for Y/N slightly worried. I then spot her sitting on the trunk of Dean’s car, wrapped in a blanket and holding a toy bear close to her chest.

“Dean, I thought you left.” I say to my brother.

“I did, but Bedbug left something of hers in the backseat of my car, so I was returning it. Guess it was a good idea that I did come back.” Dean replies. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain when we don’t have innocent ears listening in.” Dean nods understandingly. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -no one POV- Sam tells Dean everything that just happened. “That’s how dad described the fire.” Dean points out, referring to the fire that killed the boys mom. Sam nods in agreement.

“On the ceiling and everything.” Sam agrees. “What we going to do with Bug?”

“I don’t know, I mean she hasn’t seen either of us for a while. But she’s still innocent about the world. Think we should take her to Bobby’s.” Neither of the boys notice that you just woke up, and heard that they were going to take you back to Bobby’s. A tear slides down your cheek. It seems like you’re always being left behind. You spend more time with Bobby or Pastor Jim then your own family.

When the three of you get to a hotel Sam and Dean try to engage in conversation with you but you keep your hands in your pockets, basically saying I don’t want to talk to you. “Okay what’s going on.” Dean says calling you out on it.

'The fact you’re shipping me off to Bobby’s again!’ You angrily sign in reply. 'I spend more time with him or pastor Jim more then my own family. I haven’t seen you in over a month Dean, and do not get me started on Sam!’ Sam looks blankly at you trying to understand what you’re saying- he knows that you’re beyond angry.

“Bedbug…”

'Don’t you fucking Bedbug me… you son of a jackass!’

“Y/N!” Dean scolds. You do a gesture even Sam knew. You then storm out of the hotel room, you head to the lobby and sit down in a chair. You pull your notebook out of your hoodie pocket as well as a pencil. Tears stream down your cheeks as you jot down your thoughts. You’re in that spot for at least an hour, Dean actually walked past you a few times not even noticing that you’re even there. Now the last time he walks by he sees you. “There you are. Christ (nickname), you gave me a heart attack when you just walked out of the room.” He says when he sees you. You give no form of response. “Y/N, what has gotten into you… you’ve never acted out like that before.”

'Go ahead and leave me at Bobby’s I’m used to being abandoned.’ You sign in reply, breaking your brother’s heart. 'I know when I’m not wanted.’ Dean kneels in front of you and gently lowers your hands and puts them in your lap, so you won’t interrupt him.

“Don’t say things like that. You know that I’ll always come back for you… I leave you with Bobby and Pastor Jim to keep you out of dad’s drunken wrath. Trust me- it breaks my heart every time I have to leave you behind… but I do it to keep you safe. If something happened to you or Sam, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

'Promise?’

“I promise.” Dean says crossing his heart. “Come on, let’s go before Sammy has a coronary.” A small smile forms on your face as you put your notebook and pencil back in your hoodie pocket. You then take your older brother’s hand and the two of you walk back to the hotel room. → → → → → → → → → → → → → → → → @the-third-winchester-warrior @flannels-and-rocksalt @always-keep-writing-spn @winchesters-favorite-girl @caroldanversinatardis

@xxno-wayxx

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