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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

Text

Kin

Summary: Bucky’s been acting weird and you can’t help it when you expect the worst.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, swearing, breeding kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, GGFIL (you’ll see), arguing, cheating accusations

(A/N: this is different but I had fun writing it. And isn’t that what matters. Reblog follow like 💜✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @mochamaniacbabe @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @whiskey-cokenfanfic @doloreshazes

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Bucky had never given you a reason to not trust him. He’d been nothing, but the perfect boyfriend now fiancé for the two years you’d been together. Sure it was a little difficult dating an Avenger mostly because you worried about him coming back to you, but still being with him was kind of perfect.

The first time you started to sort of question things was when a phone number fell out of his pocket while you were doing laundry. Some girls name written on a napkin. You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions especially since it’s not like he wasn’t meeting new people everyday because of work. Who knows it was probably nothing.

Then he came home all late that day smelling like vanilla. You know it was bad, but you tried to check his phone while he was sleeping. Not that it worked because your super assassin fiancé was a very light sleeper and woke up before you could even try.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, in that sleepy voice.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you said, playing it off by stroking his hair. You know you should have said something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

All he did was smile and kiss you before pulling you close. Like everything was fine. You know you should have asked him right then. The words had been on the tip of your tongue.

But you didn’t ask. Instead you let him roll on top of you before he started making out with you. Would a man that’s cheating be fucking your mouth with his tongue like that. Probably.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked with a sigh, putting his forehead to yours.

You shrugged, looking down at his mouth so you didn’t have to look him in the eye. “It’s nothing.” Then you out a fake smile on to really sell it.

“Come on,” he whispered. “You know I know you better than that. If somethings wrong you can tell me. Daddy’ll take care of you, Doll.”

You made the mistake of looking into his blue eye that seemed to be seeing into your soul. There was always this gentleness towards you. That he seemed to save for you especially.

“I’m fine,” you replied before rolling over on your side away from him. Bucky sighed again before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Hey, so I’m busy tomorrow, but when I get home why don’t we do something?” He asked into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it. “Just the two of us?”

You nodded, but didn’t reply out loud because if you did he’d hear that you were crying. You’d rather not deal with it.

So the next day you went to get some stuff done. Grocery shopping and shit. On the way home you passed by this coffee shop, recognizing his car as some girl got into the passanger seat.

Your stomach felt like it was doing fucking somersaults on the way home. You tried to keep yourself busy. Not wanting to think about Bucky or his lying cheating face.

When the door opened, you could hear him set his keys down on the table beside the door. You were making dinner because you were hungry. He could worry about himself.

“Fuck it smells good in here, Baby,” he said, coming to hug you from behind before kissing your cheek.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead you continued to cook and even though he noticed how quiet you were, he didn’t let go of you.

“What? No hello?” He asked, kissing your neck.

You tried to shrug him off, but no you just had to be engaged to a super assassin who was strong as fuck.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head because you were pretty sure if you’d say anything you’d explode. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it. You were trying to keep an ounce of dignity instead of blowing up like your brain was telling you too. “Nothing.”

Bucky leaned up against the counter beside you, bringing your face up so he could look at you. “Baby, I know you better than that.” He tried to smile to get you to open up then it faltered when he saw that you were clearly not in the mood. “C’mon. Just tell me what’s up.”

“Nothing, James.” You turned off the stove because now you’d lost your appetite. As you tried to walk away he grabbed your hand.

At hearing his first name, he crinkled his nose. “Baby,” he whined all pouty, “please. I let it go last night, but you’ve never not talked to me. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’re supposed to be getting married in two months and you’re cheating on me.”

Bucky looked so taken aback. His face getting all scrunched up. “What?”

“Oh so now you don’t know what I’m talking about?” You scoffed. “I saw you.”

“Saw me doing what?” He scoffed out a laugh. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Bullshit!” You yelled. “You’re lying to me!”

His jaw clenched as you raised your voice. “Watch your tone,” he commanded. “I didn’t cheat on you. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

“Really? Well then who the fuck is Becca?” You finally asked.

Bucky pulled away and you finally turned to face him. “How did you...” he trailed off.

“So, it’s true. You’re cheating on me?” You asked with a sniffle.

He shook his head. “No! Of course not, Baby,” he said.

“You’re lying! I saw you, James. I fucking saw you with her!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Let’s just calm down so we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I want you out.”

He shook his head. “No, Baby,” he said. “I know how this looks, but I promise it’s not like that. I’m not... I’m not cheating on you. I’d never.”

“Fine then explain.”

Bucky hesitated. Closing his eyes like he was trying to find the right words.

“If you don’t tell me then I want you out.”

It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Bucky had ever fought. This was just the first time you’d ever done this. Usually when he messed up, he’d buy you flowers or kiss you until you forgave him. This time you needed to let him know that none of that would work.

He scrunched up his face before finally looking at you. “Okay. Becca is...” he took a deep breath. “Becca’s my great granddaughter.”

You also finally understood what it meant for it to be so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Bucky’s eyes bore into yours as he gave his answer.

“Can we just sit and talk?” He asked.

You nodded and he turned off the stove so he could grab your hand to lead you over to the couch. He sat you down in his lap and you couldn’t help it as you started crying into his chest because you felt like the worlds biggest asshole.

“Hey, Baby, don’t cry,” he said. “Not like you could have known. Hell not like I knew until recently.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him with tears in your eyes. “We usually tell each other everything.”

“Because... I dunno I was waiting for the right time. It’s kind of hard to go to your fiancé and ‘go hey meet my great granddaughter, Baby.’” He chuckled before wiping your tears. “Or that I have a son and he’s seventy-six.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Bucky nodded and laughed. “I know right. It’s...” he sighed, “it’s so weird, but I’ve been hanging out with them and its been kind of great actually. Having a family. Hate that I didn’t get to see him grow up.”

“God I’m... such a bitch.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You would have never guessed,” he replied, placing a kiss to the side of your head. “So, yeah. Becca is my great granddaughter. I was picking her up from work. She’s seventeen.” He looked down then at you again. “I just... I wanna be in their lives. Make up for lost time.”

You nodded. “I get that.”

“I should have told you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to get freaked out.”

“Bucky, I’d never get freaked out over something like that,” you said. “Things are different for you and I wanna be as understanding as possible.”

He smiled. “I know, but doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know.” You put your head into his neck. “God I’m such an asshole.”

“No you’re not. Any woman would have assumed the worst like you did. I didn’t give you any reason not to.”

Your lip trembled as tears fell from your eyes again. “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“I know, Baby,” he whispered.

“So, how did you find out?” You asked.

“Becca came looking for me. Saw stuff about the Avengers and saw me. My son James, his mom told him all about me so...”

You smiled, but you were still all teary eyed from the way you’d talked to him just now. “I’m so happy for you, Baby.”

“Yeah, well, they’re your family now too. If you still wanna get married.”

“Of course I do! I was just... I was scared to lose you so I freaked out.”

Bucky kissed your cheek. “You’re never gonna lose me, Doll. Besides, if anything this all just made me wanna be with you more. All I can think about is making babies with you.”

You laughed. “You would.”

“It’s true. All this just made me realize how bad I wanna have a family with you. I just... I mean our wedding is two months away, would it be so bad if we started trying now?”

You shrugged and he smiled before leaning into kiss you.

“Tell me you don’t want me to put a baby in this pussy and I’ll back off until the wedding,” he whispered into your ear.

“Daddy, I...”

You could feel him growing harder against your ass as he started grinding you into him. Fuck he knew how to get you to that point. You hated how it took pretty much nothing for you to want him to fuck the shit out of you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear. “Tell me you wanna have my baby.”

You sighed so deeply because his breath against your year was making you feel fucking feral. “I want it.” It was like you couldn’t even stop yourself from saying it.

“What do you want. Tell Daddy what you want.”

You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I want you to put a baby in me.”

“Yeah? I wanna make you a mommy, Doll,” he said, before putting his metal hand around your neck as he leaned you into him. He helped you pull your legging down until you could kick them off. Then kissed your shoulder as he spread your legs. “You want Daddy to put a baby in this little pussy, Baby?” He asked now that he’d pushed your panties to the side so he could play with your clit.

“Daddy,” you whimpered, leaning back so you could connect your lips to his. He started doing that thing again where his tongue fucked your mouth.

All that plus with the way he was touching you was making you forget all about how embarrassed you felt for accusing him of such a terrible thing. You should know that your daddy would never hurt you like that.

“Gotta teach you a lesson now,” he said. “Don’t you ever accuse me of something like that again. I should fucking spank you.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your pussy feeling all tingly from the way his fingers were rubbing you making you let out a moan. “Daddy!”

“That’s it, Slut. Don’t you ever threaten to take this pussy from me again. It’s mine.” He growled into your ear and it made your stomach tighten especially when he started nibbling on it.

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Good little slut,” he said. “You know better. This is mine.” Bucky’s fingers now dipped into your pussy making you let out a whine.

“Yes, Daddy!” You mewled as he stuffed your pussy with his thick fingers. Metal hand going from your neck to your tits.

“You’re lucky I can’t wait to fuck you or else I’d be punishing you, Doll,” he said as he groped you.

You leaned back so you could kiss him again. Reached between the two of you so you could take hold of his dick through his pants. Enjoying how hard he felt through the denim. “I know, Daddy.”

“You’re so lucky I wanna cum in this pussy instead.” Thats when he tore his hands out of you before forcing you to stand up. Bucky undid his pants, pushing them and his boxers off before pulling you back down.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking you down on his dick. Hands on your ass as he helped you move up and down. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours,” you whimpered. “All yours.”

Bucky grabbed the hem of your top so he could pull it over your head, watching as your tits bounced. “That’s right, Doll. Not gonna pull that shit again.”

You shook your head and then threw it back as you moaned. Bucky pushed you to the side against the couch before getting up so he could climb on top of you.

“Fucking love this juicy pussy,” he said. His metal arm coming to grab at your thigh as he bent your leg over his shoulder.

He thrusted in and out of you, shoving himself inside of you as his dick stretched you out. You tugged at his t-shirt that he hadn’t taken off. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Your head was bent back against the couch as you let out this low moan. “Fuck, Bucky!” Your eyes were watering as you started to feel your orgasm coming to you.

“That’s it, Baby, I know you want it. Want Daddy to cum in your pussy?”

You nodded as he got up so he could hold your throat again because he knew how much you loved it. “God, yes. I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” He groaned. “Gonna cum on Daddy’s dick?” He was all in your face.

You reached up so you could tug on his hair. “Yes! Fuck, please.”

“Good because I’m gonna cum in you. Daddy’s gonna gonna fill you up, Y/N.”

You cried out wrapping your legs around him as you came so hard. Maybe it was from all that bullshit and you almost ruining everything because fuck it felt so damn good. Especially with the way he was fucking you through it.

That was when he got closer to you. His balls slapping against your ass as he started getting really deep into you. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Daddy’s gonna cum in this pussy, Baby. I know that’s what you need, Baby. Need Daddy to keep you pregnant.”

“Uh huh,” you moaned.

“I’m gonna keep getting you pregnant for as long as you can. Make you have so many babies.”

You couldn’t help it as the noises you were making started getting louder. “Yes. Please.”

That’s when his hips stilled as he started to fill you. His seed flooding into your womb for the first time. He put his head into your neck once he started moving them again, trying to make sure he could give you ever last drop.

He laid there on top of you. Breathing all heavy before pressing kisses into your neck again. “Was that our first time without a condom?” He asked.

“Uh huh,” was all you could say. It was like you couldn’t move.

Bucky chuckled seeing you all frozen before yawning and getting off of you. He grabbed you so he could carry you to your room, cradling you in his arms. When he finally laid you down he pulled the comforter over your body, pretty much tucking you in.

He took his shirt off before getting in beside you, “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you replied your brain feeling like it couldn’t think.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. You just made my mind into goo,” you grumbled.

Bucky smiled before kissing your nose. “Good.” He held you around your waist. “So,” he breathed, “what do you think about meeting everyone.”

“How much is everyone?” You asked with a smile, turning to him.

“There’s James. And, he had a son also named James and then he had a son named Kyle. He’s twenty-two.” Bucky laughed.

Your jaw dropped. “Jesus.”

He was still laughing. “I know, right. And he looks just like me. It’s kinda scary.” But, there was this softness in his face. It was different than the one he gave you, but there was almost this pride you’d never seen him have before. “Then there’s Becca. She’s so much like me it’s terrifying. She even has a friend like Steve. It’s awful.”

This time you laughed with him. “Would it be bad if I met them?” You asked.

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been wanting you to, they’ve even been asking, but I just... I didn’t wanna freak you out about being a great grandma.”

You pouted, creasing your brow. “Baby, I know how strange your life is to say the least. I’ve kinda made peace with the idea that there’s going to be random shit popping up. Kinda what I signed up for when I agreed to marry an old man.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped, before he patted your butt. “You’re such a brat,” he said before kissing you. Then he pulled you away. “Wait I didn’t tell you about Noel and Kimmy.”

You laughed and then wrapped your arms around him as he told you about the two youngest kids. God you felt like such an asshole now. Maybe a blowjob later would make it up to him.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x black!reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian Stan x black!reader

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Spousal Privilege {Henry McHenry x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! I deleted the original request accidentally, but essentially, it was the prompt written below, but instead of getting married for tax benefits, you get married because he needs you to help keep him out of jail/the courtroom for Ann’s murder.

**just because I write it doesn’t mean I condone it. writing a fictional piece and condoning are two very different things. this is fanFICTION.**

original prompt (from @dailyau): “we got married for tax benefits, but you aren’t in love with me and I didn’t develop feelings for you until after we got married. in practice, we’re just roommates. However, we’re staying over with someone who knows that we’re married but not why we’re married so we were only provided with one bed for our stay.” (slightly modified) prompt: “we got married for [the benefit of spousal privilege], but but you aren’t in love with me and I didn’t develop feelings for you until after we got married. in practice, we’re just roommates. however, we’re staying over with someone who knows that we’re married but not why we’re married so we were only provided with one bed for our stay.”

warnings: angst & smut. not-so-mutual feelings. non-con elements (but they’re not unwelcomed). taking advantage of someone else’s feelings for you to benefit sexually. masturbation. (kind of) mutual masturbation.

tw’s: consumption/use of alcohol (briefly mentioned). !!non-con somnophilia. !!non-con voyerism.

word count: 2.4k

“Spousal Privilege”: if you’re married, your spouse cannot be forced to testify against you in a court of law.

my taglist peeps (slashed through means that the username didn’t tag): @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea @gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy @I-can’t-draw-faces (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

“It’s just one weekend, Henry. One weekend. We have to at least pretend to be married.”

He sighs, reclining on the large lounger on the back deck, rolling an unlit cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. “Y/N...you know that I can’t come with you. I’ve got a show this weekend; I can’t just skip my own show to be your plus-one at a wedding.”

It feels like you’re the only one actually trying to appear as a couple, since your union is a sham. You made the grave mistake of visiting the McHenry residence on the night of Ann’s murder, finding a blood-spattered and disheveled Henry with his hand on the butchers knife impaling her chest.

And then, a few weeks later, your friendship became a marriage. You knew Henry was a good guy, and you’ve been friends with him a very long time, so...you helped him out by becoming the second Mrs. McHenry in order to protect him in case of a criminal trial. Spousal privilege is a powerful weapon in the judicial system, one that Henry successfully secured.

Almost a year has passed since that fateful night, and the police investigation has all but stopped due to lack of evidence. The only living people who know what happened are you and him.

The worst part of it, though? You’ve fallen for him, hard. Sure, he’s been your friend since high school, but you never thought of him as partner material before. But, now that you live with him and spend lots of time together, you realize that he’s an amazing guy that you really feel connected to.

Unfortunately, he’s not in love with you, and probably never will be. But, you soldier on, putting your feelings on the backburner for the sake of the false union.

Henry sticks the cigarette between his teeth, the familiar flick of the lighter slicing the tension between you. He takes a long drag, exhaling loudly.

“Fine. But at least I’m actually trying to make this whole arrangement seem real. At this point, I’m the only one trying at all.” You huff, shaking your head as you walk back into the house.

You arrive at the large rented house for the bridal party, greeted by several of your closest friends as you walk through the door. Immediately, they ask about Henry, and you tell them that he won’t be joining you this weekend, that he has a show that he just can’t miss.

They’re understanding, of course, knowing of Henry’s blossoming career as a comedian. You spend the rest of the afternoon catching up with your friends, who seemed to be acting a bit strangely. They’re looking towards the lobby religiously, seemingly waiting for someone to arrive.

Probably just one of their boyfriends or husbands, you think, dismissing it with little thought as the waiter comes over with a tray of cocktails.

It’s nearly midnight when you finally head back up to your room, eyelids heavy as you fumble with the key and open the door. You’re startled when you see a large shadowy figure sitting on the queen bed.

You quickly flip the lights on to reveal the mysterious figure’s identity.

“Henry? What are you doing here?”

He stands, grabbing a small bouquet of flowers before bringing them over to you.

“I’m sorry for being so unreasonable about this trip, Y/N. You’re right, I haven’t been trying as hard as I can to spend ‘couple’ time with you lately. And I know how important this trip is, so...I postponed my show to next weekend in order to be here with you.”

You’re unable to stop the grin that spreads across your face at this genuinely kind gesture that he’s done for you. You take the flowers from his outstretched hand.

“Wow, this is...thank you, Henry.” You meet his eyes. “I mean it, thank you. I’m, uh, I’m glad you’re here.”

His cheeks are dusted pink as he looks down at the carpeted floor, running a hand through his hair. “It’ll be nice to spend some time together, I think. We’ve been a bit disconnected lately, off doing our own stuff without really connecting all that often.”

You nod in agreement, filling one of the hotel glasses with lukewarm water for the flowers. You set them on the desk, then look over at the bed.

Bed, not beds.

“I...I can ask for a different room. She just put us in here because she knows we’re married...”

He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. We’ll make do.”

You’re a bit surprised by his mellow, chilled reaction to the situation. You thought surely he’d want to change rooms, since the two of you have never shared a bed before.

Really, at home, you’re just roommates; each having your own separate living spaces. But of course, your friend Jen doesn’t know of the...unique aspects of your outwardly loving union, like the fact that it’s not genuine.

Both of you quietly unpack your things into the shared dresser. You keep your pajamas out and after you place your emptied duffle in the closet, you shed your top and bottoms, leaving you in just your undergarments.

When you turn around to grab your pajamas, you catch Henry looking at you, a fact that brings a sheepish warmth to your cheeks. He was shirtless, standing in only his black jeans, which has you quite flustered. Henry’s very much in shape, you’re painfully aware of that in the moment, and you can’t help but let your gaze fall to his chiseled abdomen.

His eyes quickly dart away from you, as yours do from him, and his cheeks turn pink. He continues folding his clothes, putting them in the top two drawers of the dresser. You bite your lip as you grab your pajamas and head into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

The mirror blurs with steam from the hot water as it emerges from the shower head. You’re quick to peel the panties from your hips and the bra from your chest, tossing both on the tiled floor before stepping under the steaming stream.

You groan softly as the hot water massages your tired muscles. The ache between your thighs is anything but soothed by the water, though, and your mind is playing the sight of Henry’s sculpted body on a loop, only intensifying your arousal.

It’s gotten to the point where the need for a bit of relief is inevitable, despite your efforts to prevent it.

Your hand trails down and dips between your legs, fingertips sliding around your slickened folds, attempting to locate the special bundle of nerves nestled beneath.

Breath hitching, you sigh softly as you begin rubbing it in small, lazy circles. Small gasps and moans escape your lips as the flames of your arousal are flamed with each swipe of your fingertips.

Unbeknownst to you, Henry has abandoned his putting-away efforts in favor of standing outside the bathroom door. He’s heard a few soft, muffled noises coming from the room, so he decided to approach and make sure that nothing’s wrong.

His length twitches to life beneath his jeans as he realizes what exactly it is those noises mean, what you're likely doing in there. He wonders, as he reaches down to cup his swelling arousal, if this was brought on by the sight of his naked torso.

You exhale shakily, lining up and pushing two fingers into your wet heat, biting your lip to try and suppress the gasp that escapes your throat.

Henry grunts softly upon hearing this slip-up, shaky hands fiddling with his belt buckle, then with the button and zipper on his pants. He pulls his cock out in a rushed manner, ear pressing against the door while his hand starts to move up and down his shaft.

He hears something come from behind the door, but it’s too muffled by the wood that he can’t make out exactly what you said, which is probably a good thing.

“F-Fuck...Henry.” You breathe quietly, moving your digits in and out of your entrance swiftly, curling them up sporadically in order to tease your g-spot. “Shit.”

A low growl slips out as his length hardens further with his hand’s movements, slit starting to drool semi-transparent beads of liquid. He slicks them down his shaft, allowing his calloused palm to glide easier.

Your release quickly builds up inside you, hips jerking and twitching instinctively each time your fingers stimulate the special spot on your inner walls. It’s not long before you’re cumming all over your fingers with a series of soft moans and whines.

These small noises meet his ears and, within a minute, Henry reaches his own climax. He covers his mouth, a long groan muffled by the skin of his palm as ropes of seed spill out all over his palm and some onto the doorframe.

He rushes to wipe the evidence of his release from the scene, scrambling to grab his dirty t-shirt in order to do so. He hears you stepping out of the shower and quickly tucks himself back into his pants, running over to sit on his bed.

You emerge from the bathroom a minute or so later with only a towel on. He avoids eye contact, gathering his own clothes and heading into the bathroom for a quick shower.

You’re already tucked into bed and reading when Henry comes out of the bathroom in his boxers, ruffling his hair with the towel once more time before hanging it back up on the bathroom hook.

After finishing a chapter, you tuck your bookmark back between the pages before setting it down on your bedside table, turning the lamp off. You doze off soon after.

Henry waits patiently, very patiently, until he’s absolutely sure you’re fast asleep. His cock twitches and stirs in his boxers as he thinks about his plan of attack, how he’ll do this without waking you.

He knows this is wrong, but he just can’t help himself; it’s been too long and his hand simply isn’t doing this trick anymore. And you are his wife, after all.

His fingers reach under the covers, experimentally dragging his hand up your exposed thigh. You don’t seem to really mind, but an innocent-enough thigh touch and his cock inside you are two very different things.

So, he figures that he should probably try his fingers first. At least that’d be easier to explain in the event that you wake up and find him knuckle-deep in your cunt.

Sure, he thinks you’re physically attractive, objectively, but he doesn’t have any more than sexual feelings for you. You’re his best friend and he wants to keep it that way.

But...all that can wait until tomorrow. For now, he needs this from you; he desperately needs this.

You’re laying on your front, so he’s careful as he mounts you from behind, gently encouraging your legs apart with his knee. Once you’re spread apart enough, he slips his hand down to cup your crotch, biting his lip when he feels the natural heat already present.

He smirks, slipping his fingers between your pussy lips, searching for the spot that’ll get you nice and wet for him. Your hips naturally surge upwards when he finds it, a small grunt escaping your lips, but you remain asleep.

A breath of relief slips through the gaps of his perfectly crooked teeth as he continues rubbing you. It’s not long before you become slick, providing the natural lubricant for his fingers to glide easier.

His fingers begin to tease your puckered entrance, and he slowly slides one of the thick digits in, groaning under his breath as you clench so tightly around him.

“Little slut. Wants it even in her sleep.” He muses with a devious smirk, beginning to move his finger in and out with great care and caution.

You moan softly, subconsciously spreading your legs wider for him. He shudders with arousal at this simple movement, palming his hardened cock over the thin material of his boxers while a second finger joins the first inside of you.

He’s so hard, he almost can’t see straight, absolutely loving the way you react to his touch. You’re fast asleep, unaware of his touch; and yet, you’re still soaked and squirming for him. There’s something so deliciously wrong about this that makes him throb.

Soon, he can’t hold himself back anymore. He pulls his cock from beneath the airy fabric, stroking himself as he allows his hand to run over your backside. His jaw clenches, suppressing the moans that so desperately want to come out.

Finally, the moment of truth. Will you wake up when he slides in?

The buzz, the adrenaline rush he’s getting from this is practically unmatched by anything in his day-to-day life. Not even his shows, his performances bring him this much of a rush.

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly, biting down on his lip hard as a soft groan slips out. You’re so tight, so wet, so hot, so perfect.

You moan loudly, body and hips wriggling as your insides adjust to his length and thickness. It takes every ounce of his willpower to stay still, to let you adjust to the sudden intrusion. He wants nothing more than to pound you into the mattress and cum deep inside you, but he can’t do either of those things.

His hips roll softly, gently, cock dragging against your walls at an almost painfully slow pace. Your walls clench so tightly around him and he has to white-knuckle the headboard in order to keep himself centered and restrained.

You’re stirring a bit, but you’re still asleep, and Henry feels his climax already starting to build. Normally he’d be ashamed of this fact, but it’s probably best if he doesn’t drag this out.

The little noises escaping your lips only spur Henry on, each of your little grunts, groans, whimpers and moans are like music to his ears.

With only a few more thrusts, combined with the sight of your ass jiggling each time his skin collides with yours, Henry’s cumming. He pulls out in the knick of time, shooting his seed all over your little pajama shorts, secretly hoping his cum stains them.

He strokes himself through orgasm, riding out his high to its fullest before re-adjusting your shorts and tucking himself back into his boxers, laying down next to you.

A soft sigh leaves his lips as he catches his breath, flipping over and sitting to grab the pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, heading out to the small balcony.

Plumes of gray smoke linger in the still summer night as Henry looks out onto the lake, admiring the soft moonlight reflecting off the bouncing water. He comes back in after a few minutes and climbs back into bed, eyes fluttering shut.

Maybe being married to you wasn’t so bad, after all.

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 years

Text

We Were Something, Don’t You Think So? [Chapter 2: The Middle Of Nowhere]

You are a Russian Grand Duchess in a time of revolution. Ben Hardy is a British government official tasked with smuggling you across Europe. You hate each other.

This is a work of fiction loosely inspired by the events of the Russian Revolution (1917-1923) and the downfall of the Romanov family. Many creative liberties were taken. No offense is meant to any actual people. Thank you for reading! :)

Song inspiration: “the 1” by Taylor Swift.

Chapter warnings: Lots of shouting, if you never learned about the Russian Revolution then here's your mini crash course, references to historical stuff like violence and disease, Kroshka the mule emerges as the only emotionally stable character.

Word count: 4.1k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

Taglist: @imtheinvisiblequeen @okilover02 @adrenaline-roulette @youngpastafanmug @m-1234 @tensecondvacation @deacyblues @haileymorelikestupid @rogerfuckintaylor @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @mo-whore

I wake up feeling harder, as if sleeping on the ground with all its stones and cool indifference has taught my spine to straighten, to endure. This is a welcome revelation. I will need to be resilient, for my family and for myself. I also wake determined to set things right with my rescuer. I am a perfectly charming person, Mother and Papa have always said so; I’m not painfully shy like Olga, or aloof like Tati, or rather dull like Maria, and I certainly don’t run around putting frogs in people’s shoes like Anastasia. I make for excellent company. Surely Ben will realize this and we will become inseparable travel companions.

Outside in the overcast brisk morning air, Ben is already busy tacking the mule. He glances over and tosses me an apple. It bounces out of my floundering hands and rolls off into the woods. This is not an auspicious start to the day.

“You’ll still have to eat that,” Ben says. “There’s no extra food. I was only able to ask for as much as I could justify needing myself.”

“Right.” I go fetch the apple—rummaging around in leaves and sticks and shrubs—and take a bite, even though it’s bruised and definitely tastes like dirt. I beam at Ben triumphantly. I am tough! I am daring! I am enchanting! I can pull my own weight on this journey!

Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He pats the mule’s thick brown neck and smiles fondly at her. “How are we feeling this morning, Kroshka? Hmm? Who’s a lovely mule? Who’s going to take us all the way to the Trans-Siberian Railroad without even one measly word of complaint? That’s right, you are! Yes you are!” He lands a smacking kiss on the velvety grey fur of her muzzle.

I attempt polite conversation; more than that, I endeavor to learn about my dashing yet evasive rescuer. “So, tell me Ben, have you worked for Sir Buchanan long?”

“Four years,” Ben replies curtly.

“And you are…” I think of his notebook. “A…writer of some sort for him…?”

“I’m his press attaché.”

“Ah.” I recognize the French word for ‘attach,’ but not its meaning in the context of employment with an ambassador. “I can’t say I know what that entails.”

“I handle Sir Buchanan’s relations with the Russian newspapers. Drafting statements and briefing him on local opinions and the like. And since his health has declined, I find myself delivering some of his particularly confidential correspondence.”

“Oh, I see. And he could spare you for this mission? It seems like a burden that would be better carried by a man with military or exploratory experience.”

“My Russian is passable. And I can tolerate rougher conditions than most.” He points to a pile of clothes he’s laid out on a tree stump. “Those are for you. There’s a stream out that way.” He flicks a thumb towards the east. “Get ready however you need to, but be prepared to leave in fifteen minutes.”

I examine the clothing: plain and practical undergarments, a heavy wool sweater, stockings, boots, and something unexpected. I hold them up with clammy hands. “These are…” I swallow noisily. “Trousers.”

“Yes. They’re travel attire. Comfortable and easy to maneuver in if we need to move quickly.”

“I’ve never worn trousers before.”

“I thought you were amenable to a…a…what did you call it? An adventure. A grand adventure.” He says this melodramatically, like there’s some humor in it. Like he’s mocking me.

“I suppose I am,” I mutter, still scrutinizing the trousers.

“Fifteen minutes,” Ben reminds me sternly. Then he begins to disassemble the tent.

I trudge off through the woods until I find the stream. I clean myself with ice-cold water, drink it down until my teeth ache, change out of my nightgown and into these strange new clothes—Trousers! Mother would lock me in church for a month!—and gaze up into the cloudy, pastel blue sky that peeks between the fingers of the trees. It is very still here, and cold, and deathly quiet. I try to remember the last time I was truly alone, without Mother or Papa or my siblings or servants or guards within shouting distance. There is none that I can remember; perhaps there is none at all. Out here in the Siberian wilderness I feel unmoored from civilization, diminutive, vulnerable, peculiarly inconsequential. I decide I don’t like being alone. By the time I return to our campsite, Ben is ready and waiting beside the loaded cart. His right hand is resting on a clunky metal monster with ‘Olivetti’ written on it.

“I’m a press attaché,” he says with a mischievous grin. “And you’re a typist.”

“A what?”

“You work for Sir Buchanan’s office as a typist. That’s our story, anyway. You came along to assist me during my audience with the former tsar, and now we’re traveling back to Sir Buchanan’s headquarters in Saint Petersburg. So if anyone happens to ask, that’s what you are to tell them. Oh, and you’re British. Your English sounds clean enough.”

“Alright,” I reply, still gaping at the metal monster like a black box with gnashing fangs. “But what is that?”

Ben’s jaw falls open. “You don’t…?” Then he rubs his forehead, sighing deeply. “Jesus Christ. You’ve never used a typewriter. Of course you haven’t. Great. Fantastic.”

“We always write by hand. My penmanship is flawless, Mother saw to that.” She’s still battling with Anastasia, but that’s a war that may go on as long as the one between the sun and the moon.

“Okay. Okay. This works out, actually. Because I’m not going to entertain you all day. So here is your assignment.” Ben slaps the back of what he tells me is a typewriter, and then waves for me to come closer. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a British passport. Every line is filled out except for the name. He slides the paper into the machine and makes some bewildering adjustments. “So, you insert the paper, set the carriage—that’s this roller-type piece here—and type.” He taps forcefully on the keys until two words appear in the blank reserved for the passport holder’s name: Lana Brinkley.

“That’s me?” I ask doubtfully.

Ben smirks, amused. “That’s you.”

“So you could have given me a better name if you wanted to!”

“But then how would you learn humility?” He removes the fraudulent passport, shakes the paper until it dries, folds it into a neat little square, and slips it back into his coat pocket. “If you’re typing a longer message, the typewriter will ding when you’ve reached the end of each line. Then you use the lever to move the paper down, reset the carriage, and resume typing.”

I nod, but without much confidence. This seems complicated.

“You said you wanted a carriage,” Ben teases.

“Yes, one with magnificent draft horses and velvet seats and preferably no less than two servants. Not…whatever that is.”

“Well, if you’re going to pass for a typist, I’m afraid you must learn to type.” He finds me a stack of blank paper in his collection of bags and trunks, and then climbs into the front of the cart as I get into the back. The trousers, I hate to admit to myself, do make it easier to move around, although I’m not sure I approve of how much they accentuate the shape of my body. The thought of Ben looking at me in them gives me a plunging sort of feeling that is half-mortification and half-thrill…not that he has exhibited any interest at all. “Before we go any farther, do you have anything with you that I don’t know about?”

He means things like the heirlooms I have squirreled away in the large steamer trunk: the jewels sewn into my dress, the photograph. I can sense that he wouldn’t want me to have them, although I’m not sure why. In any case, I have no intention of giving them up. The jewels are the only thing of value that I have to trade if we find ourselves in a desperate situation. The photograph is the only string left that connects me back to my family, my home. “No,” I reply primly.

“Good.” He whistles at the mule and she tugs us through the trees and out onto the dirt road that leads, eventually, to the train station. As we ride joltingly along, the creaky cart wheels bumping over every rock and mound and muddy trough, I practice my typing: very slowly at first, and with only my index fingers. I read aloud as I go, gradually picking up speed.

“There once was a German princess born in the Duchy of Hesse. She was very beautiful but very shy. She had a wonderful talent for playing piano, but would run and hide if anyone asked her to perform in public. One day, when she was attending the wedding of her sister, the princess met a prince from a distant kingdom. They were only children, but they instantly knew they had found true love. They snuck off together and carved their names into a window pane. Over the years, each conspired to marry the other. They refused many suitors and wrote each other hundreds of letters. His family did not approve of the princess’s religion and lack of charisma; her family did not approve of the prince’s distant and troubled nation. But at last it became apparent to all that no earthly forces could keep the couple apart. Ten years after their first meeting, the prince and princess were finally married. And they lived joyously and peacefully in each other’s service for the rest of their days.”

Ben lights one of his hand-rolled cigarettes. The smoke doesn’t bother me; on the contrary, it reminds me of Papa smoking his pipe in his study, in the garden, as he read to us by the fireplace, as he danced with Mother in ballrooms back when she could still dance. It reminds me of home. “I’m not sure if you’ll ever give Shakespeare a run for his money, but I’ll admit I’m marginally entertained.”

I smile to myself, sentimental warmth rising in my face. “It’s Papa and Mother’s story.”

“Huh. I didn’t know your people were allowed to marry for love.”

By ‘your people,’ he seems to mean royalty, and there is some derision in his deep voice. “Well, surely duty must come first. But when love can accompany it, that’s a happy coincidence.”

“And what if duty compels you to marry a man who is, say, cruel? Or dreadfully boring? Or in love with another woman? Or who closely resembles a mole-rat?”

I resume my typing with a new exercise. For each letter of the alphabet, I type a French word that begins with it. “I don’t think that sort of thing happens very often.”

“But if it did.”

I shrug, not especially enjoying this topic of discussion. “Then duty comes first, as I said. But I believe most royal couples are perfectly content. At least nine out of every ten.”

“That many!” Ben marvels sarcastically. “Have you ever considered that your own personal experience, as pleasant as it may be, could be coloring your perception of how the world works?”

I ignore him and continue my typing. Attaché for A, bisou for B, croissant for C, doux for D…

After a moment, Ben says: “You aren’t going to regale me with another fairytale? I’m devastated.”

“I’m busy practicing my French now. Please don’t intrude.”

“You speak French as well as Russian and English?” He sounds impressed; for a split second anyway, just long enough for me to catch it like a firefly in my fist.

“And Italian, and Latin. And I’ve just started on Japanese.”

“But no German? That seems like it would be an easier beast to slay.”

“I’ve always purposefully avoided learning it, even though Mother’s family is German. I never envisioned myself marrying a German. I figured Maria could take that bullet. She doesn’t care, she’d marry anyone who could give her a castle and ten babies and a bulldog or two. I would say she was a milkmaid in a past life, but Mother’s heart would stop dead if she thought I subscribed to reincarnation.”

“Not fond of Germans?” Ben asks. “Well, who can blame you. Half the world isn’t fond of them at the moment.”

“I suppose they weren’t so awful before the Great War. But they’re rather boorish, aren’t they? They always sound like they’re angry. Like someone just stole their horse and they’re screaming at them from the front porch to come back or else.” I smile dreamily as I type. “I’ve always fancied the thought of marrying a prince from a glamorous, romantic kingdom. Maybe Italy or Greece. There has even been talk of me marrying Uncle George’s eldest son David. He’s rather beguiling. Tall and slim. Clear blue eyes like a lake. And he’s going to be the king of the British Empire one day, you know. We could holiday together in beautiful, sunny colonies like the Bahamas.”

“You’re still as important as all that? Important enough to make a marriage of that political significance, I mean.” Ben glances back at me and lifts one thick, dark, inquisitive eyebrow. “Seeing as your family doesn’t have a kingdom anymore.”

This is an insensitive thing for him to say. I frown down at the typewriter. “A wife almost always assumes the kingdom of her husband, so why should she require her own? She needs only sound breeding and a suitable temperament. And besides, we might yet return one day.”

Ben twists all the way around to stare at me, the reigns falling out of his hands. Fortunately, the mule seems to know her own way around. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It has been a brutal few years. The Great War, the supply shortages, the bad harvests…the people are frustrated, and understandably so. They lashed out blindly, at those who didn’t deserve it, at us. But the dust will clear. And when it does, I think the Russian people will come to their senses and realize that they want us back. That they need us.”

“Are you insane?” Ben snaps. “Are you utterly brainless? What’s floating around in that skull besides fiction and languages you’ll never use once you’re married off to some prince who only sees you as a broodmare?”

“How dare you! You can’t speak to me like this—!”

“For years, for a bloody decade, Sir Buchanan warned your father about what was coming. He tried to get him to moderate his views, to give the people more voice in government, to stop murdering them when they protested. And when none of that worked and the end was apparent, Sir Buchanan tried to convince your father to abdicate long before he did. Don’t you understand?! None of this needed to happen! Your family could have fled to Britain years ago, before the animosity against your father spread like wildfire across the globe, and Russia could have established their own parliament like Britain’s and negotiated a peace treaty to stay out of the war and none of us would be here now if not for your father’s selfish, pointless obstinacy—!”

“My father is a good man,” I choke out as hot, furious tears burn in my eyes.

“And he was a terrible ruler!” Ben shoots back like artillery. “He ordered protesters to be butchered, he sent untrained boys to die in some other country’s war, he clung to the throne for no one’s benefit but his own—”

“And what about my benefit?” I demand, still weeping, feeling monstrously like a child. “What about my mother’s and my sisters’ and Alexei’s? He must have feared for our futures if we were dethroned and left without any resources, any security, anyplace to call home—”

“He did you no favors,” Ben says harshly. “Half the country—the country that you obviously have not even a rudimentary understanding of—are moderates scrambling to secure the Provisional Government and disentangle themselves from the war while still somehow preserving their dignity and that of the millions of dead soldiers Russia has already laid on the altar. The other half are trying to instigate a wholesale communist revolution. There is no one, no one, who wants the tsar back. And you better pray to God that the communists don’t manage to seize power before King George gets your family out, or your father just might be guillotined on the steps of Saint Basil’s Cathedral.”

I bolt to my feet unsteadily, grip the side of the lurching cart, and leap out onto the dirt road.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ben shouts after me.

I take off sprinting down the road, the wind whipping my face, sobbing as I run beneath the shadows of trees until my lungs are columns of flames and my legs feel wobbly and boneless. I can hear the pounding of the mule’s hooves approaching, the hurtling of wooden wheels, the slapping of leather reins. I am forced to slow to a vigorous march as my body betrays me, wheezing and aching and as ineffectual as a woman is so often assumed to be. The salacious trousers have come in handy once again. Who would have guessed.

Ben pulls up alongside me, reining in the mule to match my pace. “Hey! Get back in the cart!”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way to the railroad station.”

“It’s 200 more kilometers!”

“See you there.”

Now Ben jumps out of the cart. The mule, perplexed but not rattled, comes to a halt and waits in the middle of the road with her long ears angled in opposite directions. Ben rushes in front of me and leans down until we’re at eye-level, breathing heavily. I can smell smoke on him, and something else too: maybe cologne, maybe soap, maybe aftershave, maybe just the scent of a man in his prime. His lips are pink and full and soft-looking, I notice, as if for the first time. His cheeks are irritated and red from the wind; the ruthlessness of the climate here doesn’t agree with him. It is the only way in which I am stronger than he is. His green eyes are wide and blazing. “Get. In. The. Cart.”

“No,” I whisper, tears all over my face.

“You can’t just run off like that,” he pleads, less angry now. “Where are you going to go? There’s nothing out here except trees and…I don’t know…probably bears and wolves and maybe even Siberian tigers. You can’t get ripped apart by wild animals. Don’t you want to make it to London? To argue for your family’s liberation? They could find no fiercer advocate than you, of that I am convinced.”

“How would you possibly protect me from a bear?”

Ben unbuttons his coat and pulls up his white wool sweater to show me a pistol tucked into the holster clipped to his belt. “Just in case,” he says, smirking crookedly, lowering his sweater again. “Now I am keeping no secrets from you, and you are harboring none from me. We’re even.”

I nod, sniffling, thinking of my jewels and photograph hidden in the steamer trunk. My words are so strained I can barely hear them myself, my hands are trembling; hell, I’m trembling all over. The possibility is unimaginable. “Do you really think they’re going to kill Papa?”

Ben sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t,” he replies gently. “I think the Provisional Government will be able to keep the communists in check for now. I think they will leap at the opportunity to ship the former tsar off to Britain without the potential controversy of a trial and execution. And I also think we should get back in the cart and keep moving now.”

“I’m sorry your boss gave you this assignment and now you have to risk your life for a family that you evidently hate,” I lash out like a cornered animal, hissing and brandishing its glinting claws. “For a grand duchess that you hate. This must be an awful inconvenience for you.”

“It’s rather more complicated than that,” Ben says. “There’s some opportunity in it as well.”

Of course: his leather-bound notebook full of observations, his scrawled recollections to one day build into a famed article about our journey. An article full of what he truly thinks about me. I feel suddenly, violently nauseous. I feel horrified.

What happened to the grand adventure that I imagined? Where did it go?

And all at once, I can’t even remember how I pictured this journey unfolding; I can’t conjure up some rose-colored vision of me and Ben falling into an effortless friendship, flirting lightly and innocently, discovering new corners of the earth together, parting ways in London as lifelong confidants. Now I can only see Papa as he murmurs folktales older than Christianity with candlelight dancing on his smiling face, as he chases me and my sisters around the gardens with outstretched arms and sparkling eyes, as he carries Alexei from one room to the next when my brother’s joints are inflamed and excruciating and useless, as he never unburdens his mind to his wife or children but spends long afternoons chopping wood as the sun sinks into the west and the lines in his pale face grow deeper.

He couldn’t be responsible for bloodshed, for mercilessness. He’s not that kind of man. He’s never been that kind of man.

“We really should keep moving,” Ben prompts.

“Fine,” I fling back as I shove by him. I mop my tears away with the sleeve of my wool sweater, climb into the back of the wooden cart, and sit as far as I can from Ben with my bent knees hugged to my chest. I stare silently off into the forest as the mule drags us towards the Trans-Siberian Railroad, towards Moscow and Saint Petersburg and the Baltic Sea and London, towards the conclusion of this tenuous partnership and the redemption of my family. I am looking forward to soon never having to see Benjamin Hardy again, and yet I’m also not; and this is a difficult paradox to put into words of any language.

We don’t stop until it’s almost dusk. Ben hops down from the cart, leads the mule off the road by her bridle (and gives her an encouraging scratch on the forelock when she hesitates), and begins to set up camp in a small clearing encircled by heaps of frost grass. Dinner is loaves of bread again—even more tough and dry than yesterday—and metallic-tasting water from canteens. Dessert is a hand-rolled cigarette for Ben and a handful of honeyberries I found in the bushes for me. And when Ben grapples with the tent, I come over to help him with it just to prove I can.

Ben builds a fire, and we sit wordlessly on opposite sides of it with the reflections of flames in our eyes. Ben jots down today’s thoughts in his notebook, every so often glancing off into nowhere and tapping his chin thoughtfully with the end of his pen, biting his full lower lip absentmindedly as he sifts through the ocean of word in his head to fish out the right one. Meanwhile, I read my copy of Tarzan of the Apes. I stumble across a few English terms I don’t know—quixotic, cartography, constellations, ruminate—but I don’t ask Ben about them.

After a long time, when the moon and stars have emerged bright and ancient in the night sky, Ben closes his notebook and watches me. At first I ignore him. And then, eventually, I can’t anymore.

“What?” I ask irritably, keeping my place in Tarzan of the Apes with my pinky finger, which is nearly numb from the cold.

Ben’s words are calm, restrained, painstakingly chosen. Firelight is fierce and bloody on his face. “I had two infant brothers die of pneumonia, a perfectly preventable illness had they had access to good doctors and proper nutrition and a warm dry home, which they did not. I had a sister die in childbirth because there was no midwife available to attend to her. I have had friends come home from the war with limbs or half their faces missing, a fate which I myself am spared only because of my employment with Sir Buchanan. You have no idea what the world has been through while you were off playing board games and reading novels in greenhouses and lounging on lakeshores with your idyllic little family. You have no idea what life is like for the rest of us. And perhaps that’s not your fault, and it is unjust of me to resent you for it, and I must learn to temper this wrath I’ve been carrying around in my chest since childhood. But it’s still true.”

He stands, clutching his notebook with hands that are red from the savage Siberian wind, and vanishes into the tent.

#ben hardy fic #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast fic

72 notes · View notes

ugh-againwiththenames · 3 years

Text

So Many Fanfics So Little Time

This is just my list, I have seen so many (but if you want to use it it’s all yours too!). I’m not a writer. But I am a hell of a reader. Voracious one might argue. I just wanted to track my progress through the weeds of the absolutely never ending supply of Destiel and Cockles fanfic.

Read on if you want to see what I’ve read, and what I’ve thought. I am but one person with opinions - some of them may be unpopular - some of them you might agree with, but if you find something you haven’t read here, I encourage you to do so.

Honestly, this is just so I can track what I have read already, and when my friends ask, I can reference something easily. I have found some different fics on all kinds of ‘best of’ lists all over the interwebs. And I love recs - so rec away friends.

As someone who reads a solid 40 novels a year typically, I don’t come by the “I read a lot” innocently. I do actually read a LOT. When not reading fanfic (a new obsession, all things being fair), I usually read a lot of Fantasy/high fantasy, romance/erotica, and or YA (yeah, that was a bit of a ride no?). So from this one might digress that I like fluffy, cute stories, complicated and supernatural/paranormal type stories, and I sure do not shy away from violence or smut (or maybe violence with smut? *smirk*).

I have read all of these in the last 2-3 months (I will continue to add as I go). I had never read a fanfic until 2-3 months ago. A lot of these wonderful people are on here, and I mean you no offence by not directly tagging you - I’m still learning how to actually properly use this site. Links to AO3 are included (and I love you all).

These aren’t necessarily in any real order - I did read T&S first, followed by 91W, and 4LW...after that it’s just a shit show of Long or Short, Destiel or Cockles - smorgasbord. Some of these are the most popular Fics out there, and others I’ve never seen recc’d anywhere (just sort of accidentally happened upon them). So let’s get to it, shall we?

Twist and Shout - ok look. I understand the stigma associated with this one, but it was the FIRST one I read. It was the ball that shot me down the hill, and I haven’t stopped since. So. I loved it. I CRIED like a baby. SOBBED. It was not the quality of the writing but the way the story was developed and delivered. I have Never Cried Like This Reading a Story IN MY LIFE. It’s a rite of passage. Read It and have an opinion - it doesn’t need to be mine.

Author(s): gabriel, standbyme https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955188

Ninety-One Whiskey - aka 91W, it is mentioned so much, and is SO worth the read. I continued my dive into the war fics (not typically my bag really and here I was reading 2 in a row). There are a couple of followup stories as well to this series (and yes, I’ve read them all). Although I’ll say that the original is my favourite. I often got lost in a bit of the War/Tactical descriptions, but would recommend it to anyone anyway. Ugh...the “stolen moments”...they were at the same time tragic and the most amazing things ever. You feel me? no? go read it.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362190/chapters/5214500

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - aka 4LW. OMG just, OMG. I loved this story. I loved it so much. I think I read it in a day. Devoured it. It’s so HOT. Just read it. If you haven’t you’re missing out. LEMME AT IT. I loved “knowing the secret”, and had some major anxiety about that realization dawning (I had to take a breath, and be like, no, no, this is gonna be a mess, but it’s gonna be SO GOOD - I was not disappointed). There’s more than one work here too - read them all. PLEASE.

Author: bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) - This was the first Sobs one I read, but it sent me on a spree. this is the Memory Loss one. I have one piece of advice here - read everything by Sobsicles. You can thank me later...just go to her page, and fucking sort to supernatural (or not, read it all!) I’d list them but I’d fucking seriously be here all day. Also, her tags make me laugh so hard.

Author: sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Orpheus - I love this one too, Tattooed!Cas, my LOVE. paired with Mechanic!Dean, my HEART, #help. Read this one in one evening as well. (I was on a roll). It’s a one night stand that turns into more (much like my last relationship)....hmm...maybe this is why I was pulled in - although to be fair that is the last similarity to my shitty love life! I do not remember how I stumbled onto this one (tattooed Cas may have been the draw...tbh). Read the warnings though, there is some triggering stuff in this one - but if you can handle it, it’s definitely worth the read.

Author: sysrae https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227

Have Love, Will Travel - Can you say no to Stripper!Dean? Cause I sure as hell cannot. Typical sort of character development here with Dean having trust issues, and Cas being painfully awkward...(but in like a super cute way?). Would Recommend.

Author: squeemonster https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747

The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses - Change of pace here...It’s got a nice twist. I didn’t actually clue into how it was going to end until very near the end (maybe I was being oblivious), when the realization came over me and I was...man. I was DONE IN. I hope that doesn’t spoil (I need some kind of way of remembering them). Voiceless!Cas Hunter!Dean

Author: Askance (doomcountry) https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Adagio - This is super short, and super cute. Honestly, I would read the whole thing just for the last line. It’ll take you less than an hour if I remember correctly. Go, I’ll wait. I squeeed. did you?

Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397248/chapters/2928145

Any Little Heartache - super easy read (not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’ll fly through it’ way). It’s mid-length, not graphic, but really fun hospital AU. HeartSurgeon!Dean / Nurse!Cas - enemies to lovers anyone? Fuck you to Fuck me? yeah. YUM.

Author: followthattardis https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143376/chapters/11838311

Ad Astra - This is another short(ish) one, just one chapter. And by that I mean that this is written like a very long poem. Cas as a star who has visited Dean many times over the years of his life, that culminates in 4x01 barn scene. It’s ‘awe’ sad. ‘puppy dog eyes’ sad. The writing format took me a bit to understand what was happening - it’s my lack of poetry knowledge, not the writing.

Author: nhixxie https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013491

Ad Astra Per Aspera - This is a cute story. ESL writer, no judgement. I found this while looking for the one above, and thought the premise looked cute - and it was. Misunderstanding leading to Dean realizing he’s actually Bi. Miscommunication leading to realization.

Author: Riverchester https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336/chapters/28101816

Psalm 40:2 - Time travel post-canon Cas and Pre-series Dean. If you’re wondering how that works, strap in for this ride, it’s well worth it.

Author: unicornpoe https://archiveofourown.org/works/30786425/chapters/75992444

Addicted to You - Warlock!Dean/Incubus!Cas - accidental ‘mating’ (I actually really don’t like that word, but there’s sort of no avoiding it in this situation). Cute story. When you drunk dial a succubus and get an incubus instead...Whatever will we do?

Author: Ltleflrt https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387346/chapters/9959288

A Glimpse Beyond - End Fix-it. Not yet complete, 10 chapters so far...I want MORE! Reliving memories Dean/Cas & Sam/Eileen.

Author: NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731689/chapters/67875925

Cas-ti-el - Please I want more...It’s like the story just started. Please write more of this story!! 1 chapter, it’s a trope prompt challenge, but I want it to be a full on story of its own. Imprinted names of their soul mates, Dean doesn’t understand his (because it’s in a different language)...I’m frustrated by wanting this story to keep going.

Author: Valinde (Valyria) https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941591

Our Bodies, Posessed by Light - another short one. Not going to lie, this one took a little getting used to, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it too much for the sole purpose that the premise gave me the willies. Cas has to vessel jump - ends up in Sam...I got through it, it had a good ending, but yeah, sorry. This just wasn’t for me.

Author: obstinatrix https://archiveofourown.org/works/260289

Peanut Butter Pumpkin Wedding Cake - Waiter!Dean / Writer!Cas - This is so effing cute, just misunderstanding after misunderstanding bumbling around like the couple of dorks that they are. It’s only one chapter. 100% would recommend.

Author: Sparseparsley https://archiveofourown.org/works/223962

Destiel, Actually - This is another super cute story, 5 chapters. Gabriel playing a singular role in putting Dean and Cas in awkward positions to push them together. I fucking DIED at “oh, I am the sub” - needs context, but I guarantee you that you’ll laugh out loud...

Author: Bexism https://archiveofourown.org/works/399934/chapters/658398

The Smell Before the Rain - This was my first A/B/O - a big apology to all those who are into mpreg and whatnot, this was my lesson that I am not. this was not for me. Also - I’m a firm Cas (Alpha/Dom) believer, and i’m good with switch Cas, but it’s hard for me to take him being the full Omega here, when paired with the rest I just couldn’t do it. I finished it, but, not my thing. I know now.

Author: jscribbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355230/chapters/53406127

Crazy Diamonds - This is another short one, only 3 chapters - it’s a body swap for Dean, 4x02 him and 2018 him swap places (assumption that 2018 him is “with” Cas). It’s a super cute little story.

Author: pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151642/chapters/37738631

The Breath of All Things - Wheelchair!Dean / Volunteer!Cas. This is a lovely story, typical Dean self-hatred etc. Triggering for those with suicide warnings. It had me in tears at the end. There’s a really spectacular quote near the end that I found so romantic I screen grabbed it.

Author: KismetJeska https://archiveofourown.org/works/994750/chapters/1967519

Kind of a Forever Deal - SummerCamp!AU This is just a really cute and fluffy summer camp AU. Which is so different from 91W (That’s right, check the author)! I was a little disappointed with the ending, but otherwise really enjoyed this all the way through and was loving all the discovery and young characterizations of all the characters.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/999291/chapters/1978478

Everytown, USA - Best way I can break this one down? Wanderer!Dean (listless and without a place in the world, he ends up in a small town...), Twin!Cas (that leads to some fun things). There are a number of points where you’re gonna yell at Dean for doing stupid shit (that are very much in character for him to do), you think, well, yes, obviously you’re going to do that you silly fucking boy [affectionate]; but whyyy? (but we know).

Author: aileenrose https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797559/chapters/3854836

Chalk and Chainmail - HighSchool!AU, Cas is an artist, Dean LARP’s - it’s cute and angsty.

Author: lemonsorbae https://archiveofourown.org/works/804704/chapters/1517551

A Little Patience - Ok. you want smut? This is your story. You want Kink? This is your story. I actually did not finish this. It got a little carried away in my opinion. It was VERY panty kink oriented (which, while essentially canon isn’t really my kink) so, if you want that Panty Kink on full display? Go forth and enjoy! it is thirty something chapters, I got to the mid-twenties I Think.

Author: riseofthefallenone https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750058/chapters/3739232

Control - I REALLY ENJOYED THIS. Which is saying a lot for someone who has already admitted that a Subby Cas isn’t really my HC - so to so thoroughly enjoy a Sub!Cas story? (maybe it’s the tattooes...*wink*). It’s an AU where Cas is the head of a company - Dean is a callboy I guess, for lack of a better term. Just read it.

Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156601/chapters/76993217

More (I copy pasted the next lot from my google doc, I’ll flush them out later - no i wont...)

Teach Me (short) - movie night in the bunker, things get a little carried away Author: Chiyume https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961327

You Light the Spark (in my bonfire heart) (short) - when cas doesn't realize that dean is unaware of his feelings, super short, super cute Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193910

Communication Breakdown (short/cockles) - dean ends up in Jensen's head while he films the confession scene, no sexual content Author: jujubiest https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Look What You Made Me Do (short/cockles) - - Vegas Con 2020 / jensen comes out with a song - cute short - no sexual content Author: green_blue_heller https://archiveofourown.org/works/30251592 Full House (short/cockles) - reimagined version of the rented house story - putting it in order (so to speak). funny / cute / fluffy not explicit Author: n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/30855827

Cyber Sex (short/cockles) - anastiel https://archiveofourown.org/works/31467086 - shameless post GISH Fest zoom call porn - Short (very short)

It's Complicated (cockles) - gail_morgan https://archiveofourown.org/works/31434938/chapters/77747519 The GISHtake (short/cockles) - MellyCrazyCoconut https://archiveofourown.org/works/31508099 - cute short post GISH zoom - oops "babe, really?"

(10.02.2021 updated) Since last update: New reads - Fuck i’m gonna be here all day - there’s not gonna be as much gonna be NO detail in these breakdowns...sorry! This has now just become a “what i’ve read list” as opposed to a Rec list...

Love, All Alike (Pt. 1 Love, All Alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555599/chapters/10370646 - Though The Stars Walk Backward (pt 2 Love, All alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves

And this, your living kiss - opal_bullets https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083927/chapters/42744872

Come On, Let's Strike a Match (Domination and Submission: a love story pt 1) - anyrei & queerwerewolf *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722478/chapters/62458810 - Playing With Fire (D&S: a love story pt 2) - We Kiss and the Flames Get Higher (D&S: a love story pt 3) - Sparking That Old Flame (D&S: a love story pt 4)

Cinderwings - bendingsignpost Cinderella!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847041/chapters/29336421

Linden - fleeceframe Swan!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/33126730/chapters/82236118

No Netflix, No Chill (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764966

Can't Drink You Away (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785792

Jensen Totally (Does Not!) Snore (short RPF) - Dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315717

Dean Ships It (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349434

All about control - wingless https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930/chapters/20791243

Aesthetics in Autoerotica (pt 1 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885544 - The Ties that Bind (pt 2 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant

Let's take a drive - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32581027/chapters/80819581

Enchanted ink - castielslostwings TattooArtist!Dean TattooArtist!Castiel AU *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043622/chapters/55109530

The bones beneath our skin - darknessbound https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633754/chapters/59515804

The Plot (RPF) - Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795588/chapters/6274970

The Gentle Force with which you Take Me (RPF) - Phoenix_Ascended https://archiveofourown.org/works/32110120/chapters/79549183

According to all known laws of Life (Pt. 1 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207901 - and he's back (with a mind of his own) (pt. 2 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles

Six hundred sundays (and many more) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31158776

Aching in the Absence of you - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832977/chapters/78811378

gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable) (Short) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203291

memories bring back memories (bring back you) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Dream Come True (short) - bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071159

tall grass - aeli_kindara https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127040/chapters/30030726

asunder (Short) - rageprufrock https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115

Apheresis - bendingsignpost BloodDonor!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/32674783/chapters/81056680

we always were but never knew it - frightfullyrude https://archiveofourown.org/works/32698324/chapters/81119503

In this Louisiana Bar (Short) - fleeceframe https://archiveofourown.org/works/31764487

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Alternate Universes - n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/32687929/chapters/81092785

my heart a compass - lagaudiere https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629951

Unsound Inverses - sp8ce (not complete) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836881/chapters/73413300

The Jensen Mistake (RPFish) - fellshish https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950169

tell me about the dream (Pt. 1 Kids are coming home) - playedwright https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984813/chapters/68544450

It's handy to know (FIMMF Themed ;)) - RosaMarloes https://archiveofourown.org/works/31761322

So Says The Sword - komodobits AngelTrueform!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597892/chapters/28695592

Communication Breakdown (RPFish)- darkshrimpemotions (jujubiest) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Carry You Home - Casloveshisfreckles https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982637/chapters/65862916

In the Shadow of your Wings - Enochian Things (Salr323) https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531294/chapters/17121655

When Harry Met Sally (RPF) (Pt. 1 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622347/chapters/17351845 - Eight Dildos (RPF) (Pt. 2 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Attention, Please (RPF) (Pt. 3 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Boat Trip (RPF) (Pt. 4 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood

A Winter's Tale - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654327/chapters/5930561

A Close Shave - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090167

r/supernatural - renrub (short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626783

sam reads destiel fics - rebshome (short - funny!) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33721624

Angel Cookies - noxsoulmate Chirstmas!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729640/chapters/26427765

Under The Midnight Sun - NorthernSparrow Arctic!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690645/chapters/39143677

Bron-Yr-Aur - mrbluesky (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225335

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet - saltyfeathers https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258594/chapters/45800209

The Meaning On My Skin - saltnhalo https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005378/chapters/42538133

Red Right Hand (Pt. 1 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306110/chapters/9760008 - Are you the One that I've been waiting for? (pt. 2 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos

Riptides - sharkfish https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230426/chapters/30263556

Damn Fine Ride - Cimorene105 (pt 1 - rodeo) Cowboy!AU** (I’m a horse girl, sue me...) https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342340 - My Face Just Does This, Sometimes - Cimorene105 (pt. 2 rodeo) - The Kinkiest Thing I've Ever Done- Cimorene105 (pt 3 rodeo) - All Signs Point to Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 4 rodeo) - Monster Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 5 rodeo) - My Man, The Siren - Cimorene105 (pt. 6 rodeo) - A Pain in My Ass - Cimorene105 (pt. 7 rodeo)

Astrolabe (terra incognita pt 1) - reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812/chapters/7326794 - Drollery (terra incognita pt 2) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent - Rubrication (terra incognita pt 3) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent

Go Down With This Ship - PorcupineGirl https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642/chapters/18370474

Fire and Ice - Castielslostwings (Firefighter/Paramedic AU!) ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286295/chapters/55768486

The Structural Similarities of Hunters and Onions - Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33383101

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean - emmbrancsxx0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411336/chapters/53545840

Out of the Deep (out of the deep pt. 1) - riseofthefallenone - MERMAID AU! ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx - pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909440/chapters/24256989

I'll Be Good - LittleAngelCassie https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118334/chapters/9282234

Kenosis - CastielsCarma (Short - part of Destiel ABC collection) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30411720

#fics #fic recs #fanfiction #ao3 #cockles #destiel #dean and cas #jensen and misha #one track mind #supernatural #please send me recs #read more fics #this is my new obsession

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

A Place To Call Home: Jensen’s Day

Summary: TJ approaches Jensen on how to best to handle the unexpected discovery of many of the reader’s childhood things. While the pair work out how to do that, Jensen spends some quality time with the other kids too...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,300ish

Warnings: language, angst, period talk, minor injury, fluffy dad Jensen

A/N: This part takes place in Jensen’s POV and after the TJ’s talk timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Hey,” said a voice at the door. I jumped and looked over the top of the computer screen, TJ smirking. “I scare you?”

“Pft, no,” I said. I typed out the rest of the sentence, TJ wandering over to the leather chair in my office JJ normally used to read in. “I’m kinda in the middle of something. Can it wait?”

“Oh. Sorry,” he said as he went to stand. I waved him back down and shook my head.

“Read a book or something. I’ll be another few minutes,” I said. He turned his body back towards the bookcase, picking out one on homes. He flipped a few times and I glanced over at him, going back to the screen. I wrote out a few more lines and read it over, pretty satisfied with it. I set a reminder for myself to come back to it later and spun around in my chair. “So. What’s up?”

“What are you working on?” asked TJ as he flipped through the book still.

“Actor stuff,” I said.

“You always work on actor stuff with parchment paper next to you?” he asked. I looked over my shoulder and saw the paper and envelopes, TJ probably recognizing them. “Writing letters?”

“If you must know, yes, I am. I was. I prefer to handwrite them but I started this one on the road this week so I’ll write it down later,” I said. “So. What’s up?”

“Y/N started doing that, writing letters for the kids,” said TJ as he put the book back. “After the accident and all.”

“Yes, I know. What’s with the intrigue?” I asked.

“Well, you’re a sap. I needed some advice,” he said. I rolled my eyes and he cocked his head. “Oh yes. Clearly you’re a hardass.”

“Sometimes I miss the day you came over the first time and were scared shitless of me. Good times,” I said with a smile. I nodded and he got up to shut the door before taking a seat. “What are you up to?”

“Well...it’s complicated,” he said. “Like supernatural level complicated.”

“The show?” I asked and he shook his head. “TJ, buddy are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just…” he said. He reached into his back shorts pocket and pulled out a manila envelope. He handed it over and I opened it up, pulling out a few sheets of papers and photos. I recognized the face immediately, TJ sitting up on top of the desk. I smiled and TJ laughed. “You never seen baby pictures of Y/N?”

“No. We thought they were all lost. There were a few things from her parents we found but only a few boxes and her teddy bear. A few pictures but none of when she was little,” I said, smiling at the one of her in a onesie passed out asleep on her dad. “He looks young.”

“Her parents were older than you guys, right?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, a lot older. Just only ever saw them on that home video. Y/N had a picture once she said but some dickhead foster parent burned it,” I said. I pouted and felt TJ’s gaze on me.

“I get angry about stuff that happened to her too sometimes,” he said.

“Just don’t stay angry,” I said and he nodded. I turned my head at one of the sheets and went wide eyed. “Is this her birth certificate? How the Hell did you get this? It looks like the original.”

“It is. Long story short, I’m working on a renovation right now on the east side of town. Out in the suburbs, average home, nothing like this place or even ours to be honest. They needed an architect for like two days at most. Older couple. I got talking to them and we come to realize, I’m standing in Y/N’s old house.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It’s the one she grew up in. It’s her house,” he said.

“Small fucking world,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “I thought they ditched everything in the house after it went up for auction.”

“So did I. So did Y/N. Apparently, this couple packed up a lot of the personal stuff cause they felt wrong about throwing it out. They shoved it in some bins in the basement and forgot about it until this week. Jensen, I got bins full of photos and awards she won as a kid and stuff of her parents and did you know she was a ghostbuster for Halloween? I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did I,” I said. “Why not tell her you found this stuff?”

“Part of me is scared that she knew, that she didn’t want to deal with it. Maybe she wanted to shove it away. I don’t know. You know her as well as I do. What do you think?”

“I know she almost cried over a teddy bear when she was seventeen. I know when she saw that home video she almost cried. But I know both those times it was happy tears that would have happened. You know as well as I do this would mean the world to her.”

“I know it would which is why I need your help. How do we tell her?”

“Oh so you want to make a big elaborate thing out of it all I see.”

“I bet I could get at least your sappy letters level of waterworks,” he said.

“I’ve taught you well,” I laughed. “We’ll come up with something. Oh and I got something for you.”

I reached into a desk drawer and smiled as I pulled out an envelope. I held it out to him, TJ staring as he saw “Thomas James” written on the front.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Always keep an ace up your sleeve,” I said as I stood. I pushed it against his chest and walked past him. “It’s your first letter kid.”

“What?” he asked quietly. I turned around and smiled. “But I’m not…”

“Yeah, you are. Your dad’s a shithead and I don’t know when or if he’ll get his act together. Either way, you deserve better. I ain’t perfect. Not even close. But I do know you love your kids and for me that means all five of them. We don’t really care about blood relations around here if you haven’t picked up on that by now,” I said. He stared down at the letter and back at me. He nodded quietly and I laughed. “Read it in private and when you’re ready, we’ll figure out something for our girl.”

“Jensen. Why am I getting this now?” he asked as I reached to open the door.

“Cause you asked me for help on something that will bring my daughter joy. Cause you love her as much as the rest of us. Cause I felt like we’re at that place now where we can talk like this with no hesitation. Maybe cause you caught me writing letters and I was in a sappy mood. The letters aren’t always about a birthday or a wedding. Sometimes it’s just moments. Oh and you gotta work on your hand writing kid. Your kids are never gonna be able to read your chicken scratch.”

“I don’t…” he said as I smiled. “I tried writing one once and it sucked.”

“Considering your children can’t read yet, I think you got the time to figure it out,” I said. “Arrow and I are going golfing in a few. Wanna come?”

“I would but I have swim lessons with Allie. She’s getting pretty good. Y/N worries.”

“Never noticed,” I said. “Enjoy it. They’re only little once.”

“I will. Say hey to Arrow for me, Jensen.”

Two Hours Later

Arrow groaned as she sat down in the passenger seat of the cart. She took a swig from her water bottle and raised an eyebrow at me when she caught me staring.

“What?” she said, a little snippy.

“Can we try that nicer?” I asked. She rolled her eyes and sat back, crossing her arms. “Arrow, if you don’t want to golf with me today why’d you ask if we could go?”

“I thought we were going mini-golfing,” she said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. She shrugged and I turned in my seat. “Arrow…”

“You were like...excited about it and stuff,” she said. “It’s fine.”

“Well as good at this as you are, I’d much rather we go do something we both find fun. Okay, munchkin?”

She shrugged and I drove up the path, headed back to the clubhouse.

Twenty minutes later she was in the front seat of the car with her head against the window and eyes shut. I frowned and reached over to touch her forehead. It was warm and bit sweaty but she popped right up.

“What?” she snipped again. I looked at her for a moment before it clicked.

“Not feeling great?” I asked. She shook her head and I smiled. “Okay. I know just how to fix that.”

“Not something you can fix,” she mumbled.

“Oh, this I know how to fix. Trust me.”

“How’s that feel?” I asked when we were curled up on the couch in the TV room about half an hour later.

“Better,” she said, a light blush over her face as she held the heating pad to herself.

“We don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t want to,” I said.

“My friends dads don’t really talk to them about you know, periods,” she said with a wince.

“That’s too bad. They’d be able to make ‘em feel better if they did,” I said. “You’re already more of an expert on this than I am but your mom and older sisters say after the first year you really start getting the hang of what to expect and all that.”

“You can stop cramps?” she asked, happy for a moment.

“No, you can’t do that. But you learn what day it’s gonna happen and you learn what medicine works best for you, what makes you feel better best. Y/N got one of those heat pad stuffed animals for your sister. I hear heat helps.”

“Dad, this is kinda gross to talk about you know,” she said.

“Like I said, we don’t ever got to talk about it if you don’t want. Just...know you can.”

“I got that from when I got it and we had that talk. I don’t need it again,” she said. I held up my hands and returned my attention to the TV. “Dad. I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“S’okay. You got a lot going on right now inside you. I’ve lived with women a long time. I’m used to it at this point,” I said.

“Why does Zepp not have to deal with this?” she asked.

“Well...he also can’t make a baby. You got that on him.”

“A baby and cramps. Thanks genetics,” she said. I chuckled and she crawled over, using my leg as a pillow. “Why do you boys get everything? They get to not have periods and stuff.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side, kiddo. I’m sure some days, especially in the mornings, your brother would much rather be you right now,” he said.

“Huh?” she said.

“What grade do you take health class again?”

“Eighth,” she said.

“Oh. Okay. We’ll save that one. Better yet, you’ll find out when you’re thirty,” I said.

“Dad I know what sex is. Biology class. Make a baby,” she said. “Duh.”

“Oh really? Didn’t realize you were so grown up and all now,” I said, ruffling her hair. “What if you want to not make a baby?”

“They you don’t do it. Duh,” she said.

“Right, right. We’re gonna get you a book to explain all this to you,” I said, Arrow rolling her eyes. JJ wandered inside, hands behind her back, lifting up onto her tip toes. “I see someone wants to borrow the car.”

“Please? I’m just going over Tom’s,” she said.

“You’re going over the Pad’s to make out with your boyfriend you mean.”

“Tom is so not my boyfriend for the like, gazillionth time,” she said.

“Why you going to his junior prom then? As his date?”

“We’re just friends. Like, everybody does it,” she said. “I’m his best friend, like of course we’d go together.”

“What do you think? Is Tom just a friend?” I asked Arrow, a shit eating grin on her face.

“She doesn’t know-” said JJ, a loud crash happening somewhere in the house. I hopped up, the two of them following after.

“Zepp,” I called, jogging up the stairs. “Zeppelin.”

I rounder the corner into his room, spotting him on the floor, with a hand on his head. He looked away and I knelt down, putting a hand over his.

“Let me see,” I said. He winced and I pulled his hand back, spotting a gash on his forehead. “JJ, get me a towel please. Quickly.”

I heard her leave and I saw his desk chair flopped over on the ground.

“We told you not to stand on that thing, Zeppelin…” I said, seeing the spot of red on the corner of his desk.

“Sorry. It’s just a cut. I’m okay,” he said.

“I’m not mad, honey. Promise you won’t do it again?” I asked as JJ came back and handed me a towel.

“Yeah. Don’t have to worry about that,” he said. I put the towel against his head and looked at his eyes.

“Did you pass out?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are tough guy. We’re still going to urgent care,” I said. “JJ tell Tom to come over here. It’s getting late and I don’t want Arrow home alone.”

“We’re not going with you?” she asked.

“Do you really want to go sit in a waiting room for a few hours?” I asked. I helped Zepp to his feet, glad when he didn’t stumble. She shrugged and I turned to Arrow. She looked worried and I pursed my lips. “Well if you want to come, let’s go. Otherwise, JJ stay with your sister.”

I walked out ahead of them, Zeppelin groaning when I took his arm to walk down beside him. I sighed and left them in the kitchen while I grabbed my phone and wallet.

“Alright,” I said. I shooed them out to the garage, the three of them piling in their usual spots. I put the radio on low as I drove, a call coming in quick on the dash. I pressed the button on the wheel and forced a happy voice. “Hi hon-”

“JJ just texted me that her brother hit his head and he’s gushing blood everywhere,” she said. I shot her a look in the passenger seat and she mouthed sorry. “Jensen.”

“De he is not gushing blood. He has a little cut. We’re driving to urgent care right now,” I said.

“Mom, I’m fine,” he said from the back.

“Were you standing on that chair again?” she asked.

“On the way home, we’ll stop at home depot, get a step ladder. Problem solved,” I said. “I don’t even think he has a concussion. We’re just being careful is all. Alright? How’s your parents?”

“Fine. I’m gonna head home early,” she said.

“De. We’re fine. I’ll let you know as soon as he gets checked out, okay? Nothing you can do in the meantime,” I said. “Say hi to your folks.”

“Jay are you sure…” she said.

“Honey. I am absolutely 100% positive. He is fine. I promise,” I said.

“Alright. I’ll talk to you guys later okay? Love you.”

“Love you too,” I said before I hung up.

“You’re totally freaking out on the inside,” said JJ.

“Thank you for texting your mother. Guess who’s not hanging out with Tom tonight now,” I said.

“When was I even gonna go?” she said, rolling her eyes.

“How you holding up back there bud?” I asked as I got on the highway.

“I’m fine for the millionth time,” he said.

“Mhm. Sure you are.”

Three Hours Later

“Hey doc,” I said as we finally were getting out of there with a small bandage on Zeppelin’s head and an ointment for the cut in my hand. “I mentioned to the nuse, he uh, he had a head injury when he was a toddler. It was a hard hit was all, no concussion or anything. They told us to watch out for more of them is all and I know it was just a smack to the head tonight but he’s okay, right?”

“He shows no signs of anything aside from a cut and some bruising. It doesn’t warrant an MRI,” he said.

“I know. I just…” I said, trailing off when I saw Y/N’s friend Kelly walk by in the background. “Kelly.”

“Mr. Ackles! Everything okay?” she asked.

“Zepp hit his head tonight,” I said.

“You do an MRI?” she asked the other doctor. He seemed a little miffed but shoved the chart in her hands and she rolled her eyes as he left. “He’s kind of an asshole, don’t take offense.”

“None taken,” I said. “They said he’s fine but...you know.”

“Send the little shrimp back here and I’ll take care of him,” she said.

“I always knew I liked you,” I said. I got Zeppelin from the waiting room and she sent him off for a quick scan, letting me wait in the hall just outside. “Y/N said you were going for pediatrics if I remember?”

“Yeah. Kids are less of complainers than adults typically,” she said. “How’s Y/N? We haven’t hung out in a bit. Her babies still adorable?”

“Like always,” I said. I smiled and she looked a little a bashful. “It’s okay that you watched my show, Kelly. I’ve always known.”

“Really?” she asked, pursing her lips. “Y/N promised she wouldn’t ever tell you.”

“Oh she didn’t. The you saying holy fucking shit to Y/N when you saw me in the backyard for the first time kind of gave it away,” I said.

“Yeah, subtly isn't really my strong suit,” she said. I chuckled and she shrugged. “To be fair, like all of our friends think you’re the hot dad.”

“I know. It’s great to tease Y/N with,” I said. “Mind if I ask you a question while we’re waiting.”

“Shoot,” she said.

“Y/N. Why were you her friend? You know that’s a hard shell to crack. She doesn’t have a lot of them and most of those are TJ’s. Nothing wrong with that. Just wonder what made you say hi to the new girl at school.”

“This isn’t going to sound great but basically I had this ex boyfriend. He was like a dick once I told him I wasn’t ready to like, you know, do it yet and we broke off and like six months go by and then I had my new boyfriend at the time but this old ex was still like a super dickhead to pretty much every girl in school that wasn’t super popular. He was...he bullied her the first few days.”

“I never knew that,” I said.

“It was only a couple days. By the third day, she was fed up with it and snapped back at him. He didn’t like that so he shoved her and I just walked over and told him to back off of her. She just looked so...not scared but like, defeated you know?”

“Unfortunately yes, I do.”

“I guess we just talked about how much of a dick he was and we sat together at lunch and she eventually warmed up to me by the time we graduated.”

“She liked you before that. Trust me,” I said. “You’re a good kid. You’re gonna be a good doctor.”

“I hope so,” she said.

“So super fan. I gotta ask cause I also love to torture my children’s friends. Sam girl or the other one?” I said, giving her a smirk.

“I’m not answering that,” she said.

“In a way you did,” I chuckled. “Shoot Y/N a text sometime. We’ll get you hooked up with some con tickets sometime.”

“That’d be so cool!” she said. “If it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” I said as the door opened and Zepp came out. “How’d it go?”

“No bleeding,” said the tech that walked out and handed a slide to Kelly. She walked over to a wall and stuck it up to a light, nodding her head.

“He’s good. You guys are all set,” she said.

“Thanks Kelly.”

“I want pizza,” said Arrow about five minutes later as I texted De that everything was good from the truck.

“I want tacos,” said Zeppelin.

“I want pasta,” said JJ, looking at me. “What’s for dinner?”

“Well since we all agree it’s so simple,” I said with a chuckle. “How about cause at least two of you have felt crappy today we splurge a little and don’t tell mom.”

“Like what?” asked JJ.

“We will get italian food and tacos and the most unhealthy dessert we can find on the menu,” I said. “Eat whatever you want tonight.”

“Don’t we do that always?” asked Arrow.

“Yeah but dad’s a on a diet,” said JJ. I rolled my eyes and she held up her hands.

“I wasn’t on a diet. I had a cholesterol test and didn’t want to get yelled at by the doctor thank you very much,” I said. “But that was yesterday and I’m a free man now. We can go home and have leftover chicken salad if that’s what you guys want.”

“Not at all what we said, right guys?” said JJ.

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Seatbelts and someone look up some menus on their phones.”

One Hour Later

JJ burped from her seat, Arrow letting out one herself, the pair of them giggling as they dug into their desserts. Zeppelin shockingly didn’t want his so I saved it in the freezer for later. I figured the pain meds they’d given him had finally kicked in. I was cleaning up at the sink, the girls in the movie room when he came up behind me and gave me a hug.

“Feel any better?” I asked. I spun around and returned it, a little surprised when he snuggled into my chest. I ran my hand over his head and he took a deep breath.

“I’m really tired, dad,” he said.

“That’s the medicine they gave you. How about an early bedtime tonight and you’ll wake up feeling a lot better in the morning.”

“Okay,” he said, still not moving.

“Alright, alright,” I said. I moved back and squatted down, hoisting him up, legs wrapping around my back. “You better not be taller than me or else this is gonna get real difficult once you hit your growth spurt.”

“Okay,” he mumbled, resting his head on my shoulder.

“I gotcha,” I said. I got him upstairs and set him down on his bed, Zeppelin out by the time I tugged his covers down. I pulled them up over top and kissed his head. “Night kiddo.”

I turned off the lights and went downstairs, tidying up and pouring myself a glass of whiskey. It burned a bit but the good kind, not too overwhelming. I was about to head to the movie room when I caught something on the floor. I picked up the note and smiled.

DAD CHECK FRIDGE

“Well what did you leave us,” I said to myself, opening it up. There was a casserole dish with a note taped to it and I pulled it out.

Made an extra serving of chicken penne (tons of cheese for you). Just stick in the oven and I figure you four can survive another day without mom. Tell Zepp to stop trying to crack his skull open while you’re at it. Love ya. - Y/N

“What would we do without you and your mother,” I chuckled. I heard someone calling my name and I poured more whiskey into my drink. “Please don’t be twilight again. Please please don’t be that again.”

I carried the glass over to the tv room, the girls bundled up on either side of the couch. I didn’t make a face when I saw the sparkly vampire on the screen and was pretty proud of myself. They both started to laugh and I shook my head.

“Dad we know you hate it,” said JJ. “We wanna watch one of your movies.”

“Well well, tonight is a good time to introduce you two to a little movie called Tommy Boy.”

“Night giggles,” I said, the girls heading up to bed after the movie. I stretched out and went to my room, going out on the balcony and taking a seat outside, closing my eyes as I leaned back. “So. Got another question for you guys if you’re in the mood for listening tonight. TJ found some photos and some of your guys stuff. Not quite sure what the best way to give it to her is though. I feel like some fanfare should be involved. Nothing crazy but you know, make it special. Any genius ideas and I’d love to hear them.”

I took a sip from my drink, a light breeze in the night air.

“Someday I’d appreciate it if I got a little more feedback. Just saying,” I said. “She was a cute kid. Still cute but you know what I mean. Just want to get this one right.”

I sat outside for a while, texting for a bit until I got a bit too cold. I locked up and walked around the house, arming the security system before I climbed into bed. I groaned as I plopped down, barely getting my phone on the charger before I was curling up to sleep. My eyes wandered over to the phone when a text from TJ popped up.

Read the letter. Thanks. Means more than you know. Honestly.

Just don’t forget what I said, k? Night TJ

Night Jensen

“Now if only the other three could find ones like that, then we’d be pretty damn lucky,” I said to myself. I chuckled when I saw one last text pop up. I rolled over in bed to De’s side and used her pillow, snuggling down into it. Three more days and she’d be home again to help stop the crazy. Or at least slow it down.

The Next Day

“Alright so I came up with the perfect way to do it last night,” said TJ as he walked into the gym where I was running on the treadmill.

“I hope you knew how to do it before considering you have a child or else this is going to be very awkward.”

“Smartass,” he said.

“One of my best qualities,” I said as I hopped off. “Hit me with it.”

“A letter,” he said with a smile.

“You want to write her one go right ahead but…” I said with a shrug. “It’s definitely important but it’s not a letter kind of thing for me.”

“You literally write sappy letters for your children’s life changing events all the time.”

“TJ. I didn’t make these things or buy them for her. Her parents took those pictures. I can’t write a letter. It’s not my gift to give.”

“It’s not a gift though. It’s-”

“TJ, I’m not writing one. You don’t force that shit. Not the important shit. You should write her a letter and tell her how you found the stuff. That’d be really sweet.”

“So you don’t want to be involved in this now,” he said. I took a deep breath and stared at him. “I’m just trying to understand why you’re changing your mind.”

“I’m not her dad, TJ,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “I’m not the guy in those photos. It feels awkward if I did that. Those are her memories. You found them. This is totally your thing. You do whatever you want or I’ll help but I’m not writing her a letter, alright?”

He scoffed and I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes.

“TJ. Enough.”

“You’re so fucking stupid. For someone really smart you’re an idiot, Jensen,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Excuse me but why don’t you say what you have to say to my face,” I said. He stopped and turned around, walking over to me, his jaw clenched. “What.”

“If she ever heard those words out of your mouth, it’d destroy her. You literally do not understand how important you are to her you idiot.”

“I understand perfectly well how-” I said before TJ audibly growled. A part of me was happy for a moment at that reaction. Obviously he was pissed and trying to do something to benefit Y/N. For the most part though I had no clue what he was talking about. “Clearly I don’t understand what this is about so-”

“You fought for her, Jensen. I wasn’t there but I know how it was when she came to this house. She ran away. She didn’t want to be here. But you made her a promise, that you cared. No one cared about her for years. I don’t think even you know how deep that hole inside of her was. None of us do. But she tried because you were so damn adamant. Everyday it terrified her. Until it didn’t. Until you got from that first day to now. Jensen you ever tell her you’re not her father to her face and I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

I blinked a few times and frowned, opening my mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“You are her father. She had two. That’s all there is to it. If you think you’re second place or that she loves you any less, you haven’t been paying attention good enough. There is no dad that raised her and dad that adopted her. It’s just dad to her, that’s it. Why don’t you stop being the scared one for once, take a page out of her book and put some fucking trust in your daughter that she loves you just as much as her first father. Understand that?”

I swallowed and nodded, walking out the side door and to the backyard. I walked down to the dock and took a seat, closing my eyes as I exhaled.

“Jensen,” said TJ behind me.

“I got the message kid,” I said.

“I’m sorry for...I just don’t understand why you’re afraid of believing her. What she’s saying isn’t a bad thing.”

“No,” I said as he took a seat beside me. “But I don’t want to wipe away who he was or who her mom was either. I am her second father. I didn’t get unconditional love off the bat like you do with your own children. I guess part of me is afraid she’ll decide it’s conditional again one day.”

“Do you get why I called you stupid?” he asked.

“TJ, I know how I have always felt but it wasn’t like that for her. That’s okay. But I can’t…” I shrugged.

“Can’t trust that she won’t hurt you and say it’s conditional again?”

“Exactly.”

“Funny. A seventeen year old girl found a way to trust you. You’re fifty one and you should know better than her.”

“I’m older and bigger and stronger but I’m not tougher. She had the hard job all along. Just don’t know if she knew that.”

“You know...I know some of the nitty gritty details about the accident. Y/N told me a month back. She didn’t want to but I needed to know, for myself.”

“Did she now,” I said, looking out at the water, watching as a boat went past.

“I know you’re alive because of her. I know you two fought pretty good during it all. I know she screamed at you that she wasn’t leaving you. The girl kept you alive when you should have died. I don’t know what more she has to do to prove to you that there is nothing you could do to make her not love you unconditionally. So suck it up and own that you’re her dad. Write a fucking letter, don’t write a fucking letter. Just stop being scared of her hurting you. She stopped being afraid of you a long time ago.”

“I thought you were kinda nerdy when we first met,” I said. “That was the first time Y/N called me dad actually.”

“You’re a nerd,” he said and I smiled.

“You are as kind and gentle and as much of a best friend to her as I could ever hope for. I love you kid. But I’ve never seen you mad like that. Wasn’t sure if you were capable of it. Now I know you will do anything for her, even jeopardize a relationship with me, one you need in your life too.”

“I care about you but nothing will ever be more important to me than her and my children.”

“I will think about writing a letter,” I said. He nodded and I returned it. “For the record, you so couldn’t kick my ass.”

“I could still try,” he said.

“I suppose you could. Let’s not ever test it out,” I said. He hummed and I stood up. “Thanks kiddo. Always get a little wrapped up when it comes to her for some reason.”

“Not a bad thing,” he said.

“Can’t wait to see you freaking out over your daughter. Ah, that’ll be nice. Let’s have this chat when she’s sixteen.”

“Your daughter is sixteen,” he said with a smirk.

“Shut up. I don’t even want to think about whatever she gets up to with that boy,” I said.

“Just fyi, she’s a smart, innocent kid. Like innocent innocent. She talks to her sister. You’re good.”

“I’m totally not gonna shove you in the water now for that,” I said. “Come on. You can help me wash the cars.”

“What? Why?” he groaned.

“That’s what you get for coming in like a hothead. Come on. I might even let you drive Baby when we’re done.”

Later That Night

I’d just sat down with a sheet of paper and pen when I got a text from Y/N, tons of pictures of her from when she was little coming in.

OMG. TJ found these at my old house. Can you believe it! We’re gonna make copies of everything for you and mom.

I smiled and sat back, scrolling through them for a few minutes.

That’s awesome! We’ll take whatever we can get. You were pretty cute, tall munchkin.

I got in another bunch of pictures, stopping at a set in a frame. There was a black and white one of her and her dad from when she was little the two of them looking straight at the camera and laughing, a bit of ice cream stuck on Y/N’s nose. The one on the far right was one of us in a very similar pose after a day on the lake, Y/N cracking up. The center one was a little less crisp but it was easy enough to see that TJ had gotten a picture from the home video with me and her parents, this one of me and her dad giving each other a smile as a very small Y/N was passed between us.

TJ made this up for me. Isn’t it so cool? I love it so freaking much. It’s perfect.

“Yeah it is,” I said. I wrote back and wiped off my face with the back of my hand, JJ standing there in the doorway when I moved my hand back. She walked over and gave me a hug and I showed her the photos, a big smile crossing her face.

“That’s so cool. Y/N’s dad was a dork like you,” she said.

“I’m Y/N’s dad ya dork,” I said, pulling her into a noogie. She laughed and plopped down on my knee, scrolling through my phone. I gave her a hug, JJ looking through the phone for a few minutes.

“Dad. Why were you crying?”

“Got a little emotional for a second is all,” I said. “Sometimes I forget that I make her smile as much as her other dad did.”

“I like this one,” she said, turning the phone around, showing another one from the airport but not something I recognized from the tape. I vaguely recalled something to do with a bear and scratched my head.

“Uh oh,” I said as I glanced over at the main corridor. There was a teddy bear on the ground, not too far off from where I’d found that little girl a few minutes earlier. “Tell mom I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Don’t miss the flight doofus,” said my sister and I rolled my eyes as I stood up.

“Loser,” I said before I walked over and picked up the bear. I looked down at the other gates, knowing Y/N’s family had taken off that way. I started walking, trying to look around but these were big flights and there were a million people everywhere.

I pursed my lips and kept going, looking all around before I felt something hugging the back of my leg.

“Hi Jay!” said Y/N, looking up at me as I spun around. I saw her mom shaking her head as her dad stood up and walked over.

“What’d we say about you staying with your parents?” I laughed. I held out the bear and she immediately looked relieved.

“You found Teddy! Daddy Jay found Teddy!” she said as she hopped up and down, squeezing the thing for dear life.

“Finding the bear might have been an even bigger crisis averted than before,” chuckled her dad. “I guess we Y/L/N’s owe you one.”

“I just saw it and figured it was hers. She’s having a rough day,” I said, glancing down as she beamed up at me.

“Oh yeah, clearly,” he chuckled. “You in college yet?”

“Uh no sir. I just graduated highschool. I might go in the winter if my plans don’t work out,” I said.

“Nothing wrong with manual work for a living.”

“I’m gonna try and be an actor,” I said.

“Any good?”

“No idea.”

“Well, you better let me get a picture of you and the kiddo for if you make it big someday. We can say we knew you were before you were famous,” he said.

“I’d settle for not flopping on my face,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Come on you two,” he said, pulling out a disposable camera. I squatted down and Y/N gave me a hug. He took a few and laughed as I stood up. “I do not know what it is about you she’s so in love with. She’s normally quite shy around strangers.”

“Me too,” I said. “Hey munchkin. Do me a favor and stay with your parents for me? Please?”

“Okie dokie,” she said, skipping back over to her mom.

“Thanks for the bear and finding her, kid,” he said as I started to go. “I hope that acting thing works out for you. If it doesn’t, consider doing something with kids. You’re great with ‘em.”

“I don’t think I could handle more than whatever I end up making myself,” I said. “And maybe a kid like yours. She’s pretty easy going.”

“You got a long time ahead of you before you get there. Have a safe flight back, Jensen.”

“You too, Mr. Y/L/N.”

“Dad, hello,” said JJ, her hand waving in front of my face. I blinked and shook my head, smiling at the picture. “What’s that from?”

“I found her bear, gave it back to her.”

“How old were you?” she asked.

“Oh, only a few years older than you,” I said. “Still just a kid.”

“You should hang it up with our little kid pictures,” she said.

“I think I just might,” I said. “It never bothered you, us bringing your sister here, did it? You were young at the time and I knew we had a few rough first weeks but I mean even as you got older. You never felt like mom and I didn’t care about you guys as much right?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “We got a big sister. It’s nice having one of those. We just wanted her to be happy I think. She tells me more stuff now that I’m older. I literally can’t imagine living her life. I just can’t. It sounds terrifying.”

“Only a part was. We gave her a family back, including you,” I said. I booped her nose and she smiled. “So. What are your plans tonight? Hang out with the Pad boys?”

“Nah. They’re doing something with Cody tonight. I thought we could hang out if you’re not going anywhere,” she said.

“No, no plans for me tonight. Why don’t you go round up the other two and we’ll go play some minigolf. How’s that sound?”

“Okie dokie,” she said. I smiled and she left the room. I picked up my phone and shoved it in my pocket, stretching as I stood up. I leaned over to my desk drawer and put the paper and pen back inside, a few envelopes with letters already in there. She popped back into view and I closed it up.

“All set?”

“Mhm. Are we taking your truck?”

“Let’s take Baby out,” I said, walking around the desk. “After you, kiddo.”

_______

A/N: Read the Halloween timestamp here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #jensen x reader #jensen fanfiction #spn series #supernatural series

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becausethathappens · 3 years

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Will you please write a super angsty fic where Link is freaking out because he thinks the wedding vows he has written aren't good enough and Rhett helps him go over them and make corrections and says they're perfect but also, just says the vows he would say for Link if it was them like it should've been because he's heartbroken and Link can tell but their hands are tied and they don't know what to do so they soldier on without saying a word, but wordlessly communicating lifelong love and misery and everything, maybe comfort as well?

i'm really really sad and i can't shake it off and i really want some good angst and hurt/comfort and i really love you, maura, you're awesome

I don't do unhappy endings, anon. I'm confident you don't either. In fiction or otherwise. So, pardon this if it’s not what you expected.

Please enjoy? This was done a little hastily to share it with you (and I should be writing other things per usual) but I've had a rough week and I want to hopefully make someone smile. (I have way angstier stuff in the drafts and I will be sure to get those out eventually, too.) You’ll feel better soon. 🤞 Thank you! 💞

-———————-

now or forever

4k - Rhett writes Link vows.

If you were my boy, Blue

I’d bathe you in honeys (sp?)

I’d sing write you a love song

I’d shoot you a star**

If you were my boy, Blue

There ain’t nothing in this life I wouldn’t give

From my heart, to my toes, to my fingers, my nose (**)

Whatever it takes just to watch you live

continue to ‘ ’ grow with you like a vine ‘round a rose

If you were my boy, Bue

I wouldn’t want you all for myself

There’s no star bright enough to match your lightin’

In sickness, blue, so certainly while we have health

Hand in hand, no longer fightin’

What’s destiny (**)

You and & me

If you were my boy, Blue

I'd marry you

Thank God for Rhett. Giving him, delivering him, blessing him with Rhett.

Link is in the middle of a spiral (what he’ll later recognize as a panic attack) when Rhett arrives, the eve of his wedding. Bailing him out of this with pen, paper, and a smile.

Link has always been good at improv.

Though Rhett tended to find the words to start. These were his own vows and Link has been putting time to sit and start them off for weeks. Now that he has to, he’s dumbfounded, despite being deeply in love.

Amidst all the planning and chaos, writing his vows was such a given that Link left it as priority sixty-seven on a list of many more.

Unfortunately, even as busy as they’ve been, that list was shredded with the “who gifted what” tracking sheet (both literally, accidentally, and figuratively) back around the bridal shower and it’s been anarchy ever since.

So he thanks God for Rhett, who’s here, to stop another needless disaster from happening.

That same generous God, however, watches him plagued with thoughts of utter devotion at Rhett’s willingness to drop everything on a weeknight and rush over to help Link find his words.

His lyrics, really, is what Link has in mind. Since they used to write songs together and this felt much the same. He’s been floundering all night and now that Rhett’s here, he knows he’ll at least get what he needs done. Even if it’s not all he wants, right now.

That same God seeks judgment on his every decision or flinch against His will, for any reason, to spite him.

For this reason.

He wants to smush Rhett’s face and kiss him. Deeply. He doesn’t.

Even if there were sometime in the past that he could get away with a platonic smooch, now he can’t. He simply could not prevent that from escalating.

So, he merely tightens his grip on the wrinkled scrap paper in his hand and scrunches his eyes.

“Why can’t it be you up there…” Link bemoans, loudly, in his frustration.

Rhett’s eyes widen, in horror, and Link slams his other hand at his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Not like - I mean - why can’t you go say my lines for me. You’re so much better at this kinda thing.”

“Let me read what you’ve got,” Rhett says.

After some review, Rhett sighs, not unkindly and sits down next to Link. “Let’s just talk through what you’re trying to say because, yeah, this reads like liturgy.”

“Ain’t is supposed to? It’s in a chapel!”

“What do you like about her?” Rhett asks, ignoring his nitpicking. “Christy?” Rhett stares at him, waiting, too upset for Link to chastise but clearly wanting to.

“She’s patient,” Link says, reminded by the similar. Rhett folds over the book to an open page and clicks the pen in his hand, writing that down. “A-And she’s kind. Like considerate, ‘specially with babies and little animals. Sh-She does this thing where she immediately drops to their eye-level to make sure they don’t feel unheard or seen. Probably ‘cause she’s always been so tall…”

Rhett’s still writing.

“Then when I’m sick, she forces me to rest. You know I hate that,” Link says, voice rising a little, at the memory. “But you know I need that. You won’t be the last to make me stop and smell the roses or take a break, once in a while.”

“Her hair, write, her hair - the way it looks in the sunshine. Like warm caramel with flecks of gold. She’s a vision, an angel. Especially when she’s wearing all white, like,” Link says, pausing to point to Rhett’s undershirt and pale grey sweats. “Makes blondes look ethereal-like, always has.”

“Oh, and her voice. Sometimes, the way her accent catches, well, you know she don’t like to sing like us, never has, but when she says certain things, asks a question the right way - it’s music. The way it harmonizes with my answer, reminds me of singing, reminds me of us.”

Rhett keeps writing, quiet, and focused.

After a short time, Link can’t stop and wants to crane over to see what he’s come up with. Rhett hands it over after crossing a final “t” somewhere on the page.

“Those’re good, Link, but I think you need to keep closer to what I wrote, leave out the stuff about me.”

“Stuff about you?” Link asks, having spoken in a stream-of-conscious style, Link forgets most of what he even said

Rhett looks away, shakes his head.

Distracted by the desire to read the rest, Link abandons the lingering questions he has about Rhett’s suggestion and response.

“These are great, man, thanks,” Links says, pushing a soft hand into Rhett’s side.

His eyes scan to the bottom where Rhett’s added a few lines about the journey, the marriage, all the ceremonial aspects of the day for him to close with, but then something more.

Something about him.

Rhett catches him catch it and looks further away. “I know Christy pretty well, too, y’know. Y’all are just alike, in that way. She might need some back-up vows, to have and hold.”

Link reads them.

“You know, just in case.”

Link looks up and tries to laugh.

He doesn’t laugh.

He goes back to reading them.

Rhett shifts uncomfortably, touches the back of his neck, and shuts his eyes.

“Rhett, these ’re…”

“I know, bo, you can forget ‘em,” Rhett excuses, still not meeting Link’s gaze. “You want me to… I can rewrite the others on a different - I can turn the page and write ‘em there so you can just…”

“Hey, hey,” Link interrupts him, mad at Rhett putting down his best friend, and eager to explain his actual thoughts. “Rhett, these are perfect. These are… I’m sad I can’t say anything as nice in return to you.”

Rhett finally looks up to acknowledge that and their gaze heats and lingers.

“Not that I…” Link stutters to clarify. “Y-You’d have to be a - if that’s something that was gonna - you know - if that was gonna work…”

His mind does it’s usual jump to a visual for the worst case scenario depicting the implication he stumbled across. Him out eight grand on the wedding. Not to mention a wife, a family, a future, a faith -

a friend -

Link gulps, pushing that back away, pushing them both forward, in his estimation.

It’s too much to bear to think about for another second. When he glances at Rhett, he can’t get a read on his face what he thinks about it, and that’s scary enough for him to want to abandon the concept altogether.

“Christy’s gonna love them.”

It’s enough, saying his fiancée's name, to ground him again. Enough to make it okay for him to grab Rhett’s palm and squeeze it in thanks, between them.

Rhett’s made his choice to give up on film school.

Link’s made his choice to give up on whatever schoolboy obsession he has with monopolizing all of Rhett’s days and nights.

He’ll stick to the days or every other weekend, however they can still fit time together, is fine by him. This ceremony, tomorrow, feels as much about his graduation from friend to husband, and all that that entails.

They’re adults.

They both know there’s a lot of sacrifices to be made and this feels like the first time he’s really acknowledging how hard they’re going to be to make. He hopes they’ll still see each other.

He hopes their kids will get along.

He has a lot of hopes.

All of them involve Rhett.

There’s a lot he should write down for when Rhett finds his own bride to wed.

Link notices, suddenly, that Rhett is crying. The same part of him that's nearly broken the headwind of these conflicting emotions turns back to comfort him.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Link soothes, realizing he’s also still holding Rhett’s hand.

“‘M sorry,” Rhett intones, the words bubble up and out of him simultaneously, sounding like water draining in a filled sink. “And the night before your wedding, good Heavens.”

“Hey, I’ve been crying all week,” Link says, waving a hand at the stress that planning a wedding has kept put on him. “Nothing I haven’t seen in the mirror.”

Rhett laughs, rubbing a thumb over his own thigh in a way that brushes upwards against the place Link’s clasping his hand. Link nearly pulls his hand back, thinking Rhett’s trying to get him to sense his want for space, but when he meets his eye it’s clear he’d like nothing less.

“I think I’m just -” Rhett starts to say, trailing off. The light from the lamp on the far coffee table is the only thing on in the room. Link drops his gaze a few inches to try and see more of Rhett’s downturned eyes as he hems and haws. He squeezes their hands together, again, this time clasping it more firmly, still pressing Rhett’s large palm down from above. “I think I’m just a li’l jealous, is all.”

It’s the quietest admission he’s heard from Rhett since he told him he failed their chemistry mid-term in eleventh grade.

Link is also so lost at the innocence of the admission that he can only think of follow-up questions. “Of me?”

Rhett looks at him for a long, long minute and finally, when Link’s gaze remains confused for the whole length of the pause, he shakes his head, no.

Then he waits.

He waits for Link to realize what he means.

But he’s still waiting when Link, oblivious, moves onward trying to comfort Rhett, instead of understanding him fully.

The tension in the room is palpable as Link talks, but only to Rhett, it seems. Only Rhett pictures air bags being deployed in a car safety video as metal hits cinder block. Only Rhett moves his hand, though it’s all it takes to dislodge them from each other completely.

“I know you’re gonna make an amazing husband some day.” Link is saying.

Rhett’s hand aches where cool air now surrounds it.

“I know your wife is gonna get to hear you say such wonderful things about her.”

Rhett wipes his hand of the misunderstanding on the cotton of his pants.

“I know she’s gonna say the same kind of things about you, when it’s your turn up there.”

Rhett mourns the idea that this would ever be requited.

“I know she’s gonna love you, just as much as I do, so she’ll have plenty to say.”

Rhett looks away, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes.

“I’ll make sure she has plenty of ideas where to start.”

Rhett pats Link’s leg, in camaraderie, and nods.

And that’s it. They shoot the shit, they make a plan to meet up at a donut place for the groomsmen’s breakfast to thank them for their help, before the ceremony, and they’ll talk things through if Link’s feeling jittery still. Then Rhett’s gone.

It’s not until the next day at eleven on the dot (everyone has an agenda to follow and every moment is accounted for) that Link understands Rhett’s pain.

His mother straightens his tie and flattens the edges of his suit. “You’ll wanna know I heard Christy looks like an angel in her dress, from the girls upstairs.”

“Those actual angels you been talkin’ to, Sue?” Rhett jokes, where he’s twisting his cummerbund around every so often, bored.

“Very funny, honey,” Sue ribs back. “From the cousins, Beth and Hailee Sue. Remember they’re friends with the hairstylist you got to do the curls for Christy’s hair, today? She was over last night getting Christy ready for bed with how to wash and dry it a special kind of way. They were there, too.”

Link starts to tune her out, since there’s a lot on his mind, but then she says more.

“She says the hairstylist was talking about how jealous she was of Christy, all night, getting to marry you,” Sue relays.

“Oh, mama, please,” Link dismisses. The compliments he’s been getting have felt faker than the toupee on his uncle Bruce. That girl has never even met him. “I’m the only person here people should be jealous of, who would be jealous of Christy,” he says, trailing off, muttering his reasoning as he did. “Marrying a trainwreck like me.”

Link looks up in the mirror where some of his friends continue to mingle in various states of undress. Rhett is already dressed, however, and staring straight at Link like he’s been caught with a hand in a cookie jar.

Link’s about to ask what’s wrong when he remembers his words. Then looks again over the planes of Rhett’s face.

Last night’s words slam back into his mind and Link’s mouth drops open.

The church organ belts out an opening flurry of notes before Canon in D begins playing loudly through the sound system built into the rafters above them. Link looks up to see one of the church staff at the door instructing them to join the bridal party to line-up.

Link’s mom dashes off to where she’s paired with her nephew, Link’s favorite cousin, to be escorted down the aisle.

Rhett sees Link’s face rushing through a wash of emotions from a distance, he nods to the staffer in silent understanding that he’ll handle it, and then they’re alone.

He walks up to Link and takes his hand. He squeezes it.

“Hey, you gotta go. We gotta go. It’s showtime,” Rhett insists.

Link looks around like a bomb went off, since in some ways it did, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Rhett seems to pick up on that. He squeezes Link’s hand again.

“I’ll get over it, Link, it’s okay,” Rhett whispers, on the verge of desperation.

That confirmation is enough to fully shatter Link.

Only for a moment.

The music continues and Rhett keeps his hand hold.

They are adults. They are in love. They have to marry.

None of these things can be helped.

“I’m gonna be so jealous of Her, too,” Link whispers back. He squeezes Rhett’s hand one last time, as they part.

They leave.

They walk straight.

They part again.

Until later.

They move houses and cities and states.

They move mountains, inside and out.

They move together.

Much later.

They join again.

They run crooked.

They return.

To one another.

Link has spent years worrying a ring that means too much to too few people.

In the beginning, when he cries himself to sleep at what he thinks has been the mistake of a lifetime, it’s His talisman. It reminds him of the expectations upon this life he’s made.

As the years pass, however, the adherence to the bogeymen of their childhood’s rules wears thin. It starts to strictly represent love and patience.

Sacrifice.

It begins to feel like a burden. A representation of what’s been lost, not what’s been found.

He contemplates taking it off, but believes that to be a betrayal of all that it stands for to the people he stands for.

Then, one day, (surely mid-spin) he hears Rhett tell a story about wanting to change his ring.

He watches the silver twirl as Rhett explains.

He believes he was rushed into a certain type of marriage and a certain type of life by a certain type of person.

It’s a life that he’s grown to love but the ring represents a union forced by custom and not one that’s grown through devotion.

His ring reminds him of that too often to be good for him.

Link twists his again at the admission.

So, Rhett’s thinking about replacing the ring.

Link returns home that night in a stupor. He’s sure he said one too many things to Rhett to emphasize how wild it felt to hear him talk about changing rings.

Any memories of that day, their wedding, bring up a rush of emotions that he’s never been good at sorting through.

Today’s admission makes him feel the same spur to make use of idle, betrothed hands he feels when he cleans the fridge.

He wants to clean the slate.

He finds an old DVD copy of their wedding ceremony that he paid to have converted from miniDV some years ago. Now he struggles to find a place to watch that DVD. How quickly time has flown by.

Eventually, he ends up in his son’s room - no one’s home for the remainder of the night but he and Christy - now, he’s sitting on a bean bag, squinting at the game console’s controller trying to get the joysticks to move to “play” on screen.

The ceremony bursts to life and, like it was yesterday, Link’s nerves fizzle awake.

About halfway through the video, Christy finds him like that and sits down next to him in a thwump absorbed mostly by the stuffing of the chair.

They watch themselves smile happily at each other and Christy takes his hand.

“Should I be happy or scared to find you alone watching this on a Saturday night?” she asks, wryly, squeezing his palm.

Link doesn’t know what to say. He’s caught up in Rhett’s bygone script being spoken on screen. Words about Christy and about Link that were not their own, declared loudly in front of the congregation.

“I don’t know,” Link admits, shrugging. He doesn’t. He squeezes her hand back.

“You wanna tell me what’s eating you?”

Link hesitates, but relents. He wants that clean slate, after all. “Rhett’s getting his wedding ring replaced.”

“Replaced?” Christy asks, balking.

“Replaced, yeah,” Link responds, sure he didn’t misspeak.

“With what?” she asks.

“Oh, some new one. Fancy thing, very cool, made of trees or something. Honestly he wears the other one, the slick black one more than his wedding band half the time. He says it feels like the old one? It’s the kind of ring you get in a bauble at a vending machine crank. So, he wants a new one.”

“Jeesh,” Christy says, making a face at the screen. The camera catches Rhett stealing glances at the couple, then at the crowd, beaming at all with unbridled pride.

“Wouldn’t you be mad if I did that?” Link inquires, still baffled at the idea.

“Well, no, but don’t you love your ring? Heirloom and all that,” she says.

Link cringes. “Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I do.”

“So?”

“So, I still kind of want to and I’m not sure what that means.”

They watch the screen together.

“Do you wanna stay married?” she asks, in a small voice.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

There’s a long pause.

“To me?” she asks, her voice even smaller.

“Yes,” he breathes in.

She squeezes his hand, her confidence built back up. She begs him to join her.

“And him?” Christy whispers.

They both look the screen, the lens centered on the two of them, but their gaze is mutually torn to where Rhett stands wiping a tear from his eye at Christy reciting the last of the vows that he wrote her. Wrote him. Wrote them both.

She squeezes his hand again.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

She leans her head on his shoulder.

“You should probably get another ring, then,” she jests. “We shouldn’t have to share everything.”

The slate is clean.

There’s a lot he wants to say to Rhett about it, but just as before, he’s relied on Rhett to give him the right words to say. So, instead of words, he starts wearing Rhett’s ring.

Then, a new one, when he realizes he can match him separate from the other, all told. Have something of Rhett’s, all to himself.

In his unspoken push towards something more, their hands now match along with their steps, as they walk forward.

On the last week in July, they get ice cream at the fifth place that month to mistake them for husbands, but the first one he hears Link crow an affirmative in response.

Rhett waits for him while he triple-tips the cashier (for the guess) and pays for their cones.

“Bad joke,” Rhett says, softly, but firm.

“Who’s kidding?” Link parries back, a smirk dancing it’s way across his lips.

Rhett watches him with a wistful look of disbelief.

“Link, we’re married,” Rhett warns him.

Link shrugs. “I know. I’m just waiting for you to figure that out and minding my ice cream here, all right?”

He’s got a mouthful of vanilla bean and extra cookie crumble, the next second, so his vow ends there.

Later, at home, Rhett startles Jessie awake when he fully realizes Link’s words.

He shakes her awake. He shakes them both awake.

“I’m in love with Link,” he says, like it’s a confession.

She kisses him because so is she. So are most people.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Rhett repeats himself.

So does she.

They stare at each other under the cover of silk and moonlight.

“We’re married,” Rhett whispers, touching his hand to hers. Their rings clink, new and shiny.

“Yeah, and so are we,” she whispers back.

They fall asleep smiling.

The next day, Rhett sneaks up behind Link while he’s working and causes him to spill his cup of coffee. He gets the stink eye for only a minute because it’s the same length of time he can stand Link’s grumpy mug before he has to swoop down and kiss him on the lips.

“You figured it out,” Link says, grinning.

“I did,” Rhett chirps as he kisses Link more.

They take a car to their house. It’s filled with their love and the history of it; before, during, and after.

“What’s this?” Link asks, dazed in their post-sex glow, naked and alive.

He spots an old chord book of theirs from last time they wrote music.

“Oh,” Rhett says, bashful. “I came looking for you here this morning, hoping you slept over again, but, uh,” Rhett stalls, looks away and tries to take the songbook from Link’s hand. Link pulls it far enough he can’t reach. “You were already at the job.”

“And?” Link asks, using his spry, sinewy body as an advantage to slink away from the bed out of Rhett’s grip. He still has the book in hand.

“Those are your vows,” Rhett explains.

Link looks down and squints, confused. These aren’t the vows that Christy read at their wedding. He’s seen that video only a few months back and is sure of it.

“Our vows,” Rhett whispers, explaining further, at Link’s puzzled look.

“It’s a love song,” Link notes, marveling at the gesture. What it means to a young version of himself that once felt like they had surely cut out and mourned the possibility of this - all of this - ever happening. To have that thought coexist with the image of a nude, hulking tree trunk of a husband laid before him smiling up adoringly felt panoptic.

“So are you.”

Link begins to cry.

“Play it for me.”

Rhett wipes his cheek.

“Get my guitar.”

They sing twice more that night, always in harmony (not always in lyric), then spend the rest of their lives together doing much the same.

#things i wrote #@anon #i hope you are doing well soon #💙#rhink

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shitty-check-please-aus · 4 years

Note

do you have any recs for romance novels that are like fanfic (but with original characters obv) in that they AREN’T those books w a shirtless guy on the cover that middle aged women love? idk ngozi posted a bit about sport news reporters on her pillowfort and it made me crave more stuff like that

1) don’t diss the old-school romance novels and, cliche as it may be, don’t judge a book by its cover. Romance writers and readers are dismissed all the time in spite of being one of the most successful genres in sales and reader numbers, and I have a lot of feelings about that.

2) if you want romance recommendations regularly, I highly recommend following the bookstore The Ripped Bodice on social media. They’re in LA and while I’m internet friends with someone who works there, I have never been there, but their recommendations are always on point. There may be some other romance bookstores out there, but I like them.

Okay now a few recommendations. Some of these feel more like fanfiction than others, but I liked them, so maybe you’ll like them, too. I’m linking them to bookshop dot org listings, because that benefits small bookstores; I signed up for an affiliate program, so full disclosure I could get money back if you choose to buy here, but I would just use that money to buy more books to read and recommend; also you can probably get e-versions from your library using Libby or Overdrive or Hoopla or whatever:

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston.

Short summary: The son of America’s first female president and the prince of England totally hate each other. Wait, actually, the son of America’s first female president is a disaster bi who didn’t realize he had an enormous (reciprocated) crush on the prince of England.

Why it’s good: Beautiful writing, like no straight people, political drama that’s like West Wing levels of stress, not Real Life levels of stress, and just the best romantic emails.

Nota Bene: I keep seeing this on YA lists. It is not YA. It’s aimed at younger adults, but it’s not aimed at 13-18 year olds. There is some actual sex in here and everyone is like 22. It could be categorized as New Adult.

Also I can’t wait for her next book.

ANYTHING by Meg Cabot.

Okay this is a broad recommendation. I guess it doesn’t count her books for kids, because I haven’t read those. But! Meg Cabot writes a lot of great stuff and I love her.

Most recent is No Judgments, so I’ll recommend that first. It’s a standalone book where a girl, Bri, who’s falling apart after several family crises rides out a hurricane in the Florida Keys. Unfortunately, the hurricane is way more severe than people thought, and pets that would’ve been okay being left at home for a couple days are going to be alone for weeks. Bri and a very hot man go around rescuing pets. They are smooching on the cover so I think you can guess how that ends up.

Ok the next couple are ones that I’ve heard recommended, but that I haven’t read yet.

The Kiss Quotient, by Helen Hoang, and her other books.

A book about an autistic woman written by an autistic woman! I’ve heard it’s fun and sexy and good. It’s on my shelf; I got it at my local used bookstore in The Before Times.

Jasmine Guillory’s books

Haven’t read them yet, but they’re highly recommended by a bunch of people. She’s generally writing about black couples, weddings, fake dating, and a touch of enemies to lovers. They also seem to be in a shared universe situation, so if you like being able to see characters in different books from different perspectives, this might be good for you.

Recommendations from the bookseller I’m friends with when I was lamenting how I don’t think I’ve read any wlw-focused romance, in spite of being myself a wlw; I haven’t read them yet but look I have about ten thousand books on my to-read list:

Something to Talk About, Meryl Wilsner- not out yet but there’s some buzz around it

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics, Olivia Waite. Looks like it’s historical, but I am intrigued.

#Anonymous

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goldentournesol · 3 years

Text

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Five)

Chapter Five: Royal Blue Napkins

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/N: i have totally reinvented the timeline of the show, just go with me. also...this chapter will take you on a RIDE.

Going home that night and getting into bed with her fiance was difficult for Y/N. Of course she knew it was technically wrong to have kissed Spencer back, but the problem is that she enjoyed it so much. Too much, probably. And that was alarming. Was it just because she was bored of kissing the same person for the past...what..11 years and just needed a (really) good kiss before she spent the rest of her life kissing the same man? Or was it because she knew that every neuron in her brain was usually firing at top speed at the near mention of Spencer Reid let alone finally know how her brain acted (nearly exploded) while kissing him?

The wedding was less than a month away now and Hotch was gracious enough to allow Y/N extra time out of the office, when things were calm, to meet with her wedding planner to finalize some decisions about the cake, venue, napkins, all that good stuff. In the middle of it, she caught herself wondering whether or not Spencer would like the color of napkin she chose, instead of her actual fiance. That was enough, the thought of Spencer now invaded officially every aspect of her life. She didn’t know what to do so she cornered JJ one day in her office and hurriedly shut the door behind her.

“JJ, I am freaking out about all this wedding stuff. I-I don’t know if I picked the right color for the napkins, oh God, I don’t even like royal blue! I just picked it because Grant likes it but what if it sucks because I don’t actually like it and it doesn’t match with the centerpieces and I-” she rambled but JJ promptly cut her off.

“Hey! Y/N, relax, take a seat. Take a deep breath.” Y/N followed her suggestions that felt more like orders and JJ watched her carefully, she wasn’t a profiler but she spent enough time around them to have picked up on subtle clues. She knew the woman sitting in front of her was an anxious mess and it was not about the napkins, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know if I like the napkins, JJ.” Y/N’s brows came together and she suddenly felt like crying, she couldn’t explain it, but she felt it.

“Y/N, you and I both know that napkins don’t make or break weddings.” JJ sent her a pointed look and Y/N began to feel small. She picked at her nails.

“Yeah? Well what does?” Y/N asked vaguely.

“What breaks weddings is an absence of love, Y/N.” She said simply and Y/N couldn’t help the frown that crept up on her face, but the blonde said nothing more.

The walk back to her desk was spent trying with extreme difficulty to not split her lip open from biting it too hard. The energy in the entire office was off, although Spencer has a new specific energy to him. He seems lighter somehow, he feels lighter too. Morgan doesn’t know exactly what happened between them but he could sense the shift in Reid’s behavior.

They’ve interacted, though briefly. Spencer pretended there was nothing wrong between them, while Y/N mulled over every interaction. Spencer literally had nothing left to lose, she’d made her choice and he’d accepted that, made peace with it even. He’d even gone as far as putting himself out there on the market. It was time to move on. There was just one aspect of the upcoming month that would make it extremely difficult to do so, so he made a decision.

“Hey, Y/N. Could I talk to you for a second?” Spencer said, leaning with his elbows over her desk as it neared their lunchtime.

“Yeah, of course, just one second... just saving this document. What’s up?” She smiled as she stared up at him, she was sure her heart was about to light on fire in her chest with the mere eye contact.

“Um, so you know how I’ve been meaning to visit my mom back in Vegas for a while now but I haven’t got the chance?” He began, idly playing with one of the candies in the candy bowl that was placed for guests.

“Yeah, of course! Are you planning on going?” She smiled wider, knowing just how much love this man had in his heart for his wonderful mother. Y/N had met Diana when she came into the office a few years back, actually she was the only one who Diana allowed to spend time with while the rest were in the field. Apparently, Spencer had told her more than enough information about Y/N before in his daily letters. Diana liked her years before she even met her.

“Yeah, I’m taking a week off, actually. I’m gonna spend it with her, I’ve missed her a lot.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly as he thought of the week off.

“That’s so awesome Spencer! Will you tell her how much I’ve missed her, oh, I know! I’ll just write her a letter and you can take it with you. When are you going by the way? Do I have time to write it?” She worried slightly, grabbing a pen in preparation and making Spencer laugh lightly at her excitement.

“Yes, yes you’ll have time. I’m leaving on the 16th of August, already booked the ticket.” His voice faltered slightly as he said the date.

“Wait, the 16th? But that means…” He won’t attend the wedding.

“I know, I’m sorry I can’t make it.” He genuinely frowned, knowing just how upset this would make her. Despite their feelings for one another, they were the closest of friends.

“Th-that’s okay! Um, we’ll just send you all the, uh, pictures and stuff.” Her bright smile faltered and Spencer swore he heard a tremble in her voice, the one she made when she was trying to hide how upset she really was.

“Yeah, send me all the pictures, I’m really sorry again, Y/N.” He sent her a look of sympathy, but she understood, he didn’t want to be there.

“No, no it’s okay. I get it, there’s only so many other weeks in the year you could take off, I guess.” she laughed bitterly, very obviously hurt, “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go now. I have something um, for Hotch--Hotch asked for something.” She picked up a random file from her desk and quickly made her way across the bullpen and Spencer’s eyes stopped following her when she entered Hotch’s office. He released a heavy sigh and turned on his heels to leave the building for a lunch that was anywhere but there.

“What can I do for you, Y/N?” Hotch asked, barely looking up from his file at first but then her silence intrigued him to look up, spotting her watching from the window as Spencer left, “Everything alright?” His voice startled her and he immediately took in her glassy eyes and the nervous trembling of her fingers.

“Huh? Oh, um, yes, everything’s fine. Did you...ask for these?” She took a look at what she’d actually picked up and realized they were a bunch of useless forms that the unit chief certainly did not need to waste his time on. It was hard to hide his smirk, having figured out what had happened.

“Do you need to take a seat, Y/N?” He saw right through her, of course he did. She drew in a deep, shaky breath and shook her head.

“Did you know?” She asked in a small voice.

“He ran it by me, yes. I have to approve his time off. If it’s any consolation, I tried to-” He begad, but she interrupted.

“No, please. I’ve heard enough. Thanks Hotch.” She frowned as she made her way out of his office, praying that her tears would--just for once--stay within her waterline.

After that, Y/N barely spoke with Spencer. She found it hard to find the line between being upset with him and understanding why he’s doing what he’s doing. On one hand, she selfishly wanted her best friend to be at her wedding, but on the other, she understood that that was a huge thing to ask from the other man who loved her. He loved her. He loves her. That’s mind boggling to Y/N. Spencer loves her? Even almost 3 weeks after his confession, it’s all she can think about. He’s in love with her.

It was almost time for him to leave for Vegas. Despite her anger with Spencer, she still wrote Diana a letter. Upon finishing and sealing it, she realized she hadn’t even mentioned the wedding once. The (supposedly) single most important event that she would ever attend in her lifetime hadn’t even crossed her mind. She didn’t even give him the letter, she just left it on his desk for him to take. Despite that, Spencer still smiled at the fact that she’d written his mother a letter. His curiosity was killing him, but he’d just ask his mom what she’d written. At the end of the day before he left, he paused at Y/N’s desk, but she refused to look up.

“Bye, Y/N. Um, congratulations in advance.” Spencer spoke, clutching his messenger bag tightly, hoping she’d just look at him once. Hoping he’d get to see her eyes one last time before her soul was tied to another man’s for the rest of eternity.

“Bye, Spencer...have a safe flight.” She replied quietly, busying herself with whatever she was working on on her computer. A beat passed between them as Spencer waited to meet her eyes, but the moment never came. Pre-love confession Spencer would have gone on and on about how he technically had no control over whether or not it would be a safe flight, but now...now he knew his voice was the last thing she’d want to hear. His shoulders involuntarily slumped as he began to walk away from the love of his life. He knew he couldn’t be at that wedding, he just knew it. Hasn’t he been through enough already? Was life that adamant about making him hurt so badly?

But alas, fate was never on their side. Moments before boarding the plane to Vegas and barely three days before her wedding, the team was called in for an emergency case. She had taken a few days off before the wedding to get everything sorted and thankfully, the case was local so she didn’t have to book any hotel rooms or coordinate with the pilots of the jet.

She had invited Garcia out with her to get a bridal manicure and pedicure on her lunch break, since she was the only one available.

“Pen, are you sure they don’t need you right now? I don’t want to interrupt the case.” Y/N signed into the phone.

“Trust me, Y/N/N, they don’t need me right now, besides this is the least I could do. All your plans for the week-of have been kinda ruined by this case. I wanna help you out the best I can! So I’m picking you up in 10 and we’re getting our nails done.” Y/N knew better than to argue with Garcia so she relented.

Near the end of their appointment, Garcia got a call from Hotch, “He’s what?! Oh no! Is he okay?! He’ll be okay, right?” Garcia half-panicked, sending Y/N right into a panic with her. Garcia paused and Hotch spoke over the phone, “Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hung up and took a deep breath.

“Garcia, what happened! Is everyone okay?” Y/N asked hurriedly.

“Uh, no...actually Reid got shot in the field. The unsub shot him in the knee while trying to aim for the victim.” Garcia spoke slowly so as to not alarm her, but it was too late, Y/N was already pulling her hands away from the nail tech, who was almost done.

“WHAT?! Garcia! We have to go now! Is he okay?! Is he in the hospital? What hospital is he at? I’ll drive.” Y/N panicked, her breathing getting more and more shallow by the second.

“Y/N/N, calm down! Calm down! He’s fine, okay? He’s in surgery and you should absolutely not be driving right now. Take a few deep breaths please.” Her emotions were already all over the place because of the damn wedding, and now she had to worry about Spencer getting shot? Oh Lord, it was too much for her to handle.

“Garcia, I think I’m gonna pass out.” Y/N fanned her face and the waterworks began. Garcia quickly asked the nail tech if she could get Y/N some water.

“Oh! Oh, Y/N, baby don’t cry, please. He’ll be okay, he’ll probably be on crutches for a while but he’ll be fine.” Garcia tried to console her but the tears just kept coming. Y/N should have felt embarrassed whilst sobbing in the middle of the nail salon, but she was too overwhelmed to care at the moment.

“I’m so sorry Garcia, it’s just all too much. I don’t want royal blue napkins, Garcia! I don’t even think I want a damn wedding! And I-I can’t believe Spence just got shot! This all just feels so wrong! You know what, this is all just one big warning sign from the universe, isn’t it?! And--and I don’t even want to marry Grant!” She blurted randomly in her fit of tears and she stopped crying out of realization of what she’d just confessed. Garcia gasped and her friend met her eyes, they stared at each other for a moment before Y/N broke out into tears again at the confession.

It was true.

She didn’t want to marry him.

Garcia apologized profusely to the nail techs and paid quickly before leading an almost hysterical Y/N out of the salon.

Y/N clung to Penelope and sobbed into her shoulder on the sidewalk, “I don’t want to marry him, Garcia.”

“Y/N, the wedding is tomorrow.” Garcia’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of her friend being so broken. Y/N shook her head and sniffled loudly, “Are you sure you’re not just super upset about Spencer getting shot?” Garcia continued, wanting Y/N to be absolutely sure of what she’s deciding.

Y/N pulled away from the embrace and stared at her friend, “M-maybe? I don’t know, I-I don’t know, Pen. Oh God, the wedding is tomorrow.” Y/N covered her face with her hands and tried to rub away all the stress and tears.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go see Spencer and make sure he’s alright, then you can take all the time you need to decide whether you want to call the wedding off or not, alright? How does that sound?” Garcia reasoned with her, slowly trying to remove her hands from her face.

Y/N nodded and took a few deep breaths, wiping away the last of her tears, “Let’s go see Spencer.”

When they’d arrived at the hospital, Spencer wasn’t out of surgery yet. The team was waiting around in the hospital chairs. The hospital felt cold, so unbelievably cold. Maybe it was Y/N literally getting cold feet. The team decided not to ask about the unmistakable redness around her eyes and nose. They just chalked it up to being scared for Spencer, but it was so much more than that.

She hadn’t even looked at him before he left. She hadn’t seen his eyes or his face so full of its color in so long. When the Dr. announced he was out of surgery and that he should be waking up any minute, the team had decided to let Y/N in first. The sight of him sleeping in the hospital bed made her stomach lurch. She found it hard to contain her tears. It was almost as if her hand had a mind of its own as it reached out to smooth down his wild hair and caress his cheek. She pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head and watched as his eyelids fluttered slightly, but stayed closed. She swallowed heavily and wiped her eyes before walking back out to the team.

“He’s not awake yet, but I, uh...have to go. There’s something I need to take care of. Pen, update me when he wakes, please.” Y/N tried as hard as she could to even out her voice, but it trembled with every other word. Garcia nodded and before anyone could even say a word, she was out of the building. She checked the time and saw that Grant’s shift wasn’t over yet, and she had the house to herself for a bit.

As soon as she made it in, she picked the two biggest suitcases she owned and began to fill them with her things. She’d spent over 7 years in this apartment with Anderson, so many memories and so many laughs were spent here.

But she couldn’t do it anymore.

She didn’t want to have to go through a divorce, she couldn’t go through that. She’d rather not marry him at all. Within two hours, she had packed 7 years worth of her life into two huge suitcases. It was sad and she shed more than a few tears mulling over memories. But she saw her future and it wasn’t with Anderson. She placed the suitcases near the doorway and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. Surely enough, Grant came through the door at exactly 5:53 pm, just like he did every day.

“Babe? You home? Hey, whose bags are these?” He said, slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” He asked, spotting her in the kitchen with a glass of red wine and tears gathering in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Anderson frowned.

“Um, so...I’ve been thinking. A lot, actually. And I kept asking myself why we waited so long to finally get married. We got engaged in college, Grant. That was ages ago. Most people get married like, right after graduation, but we didn’t do that. We moved here together, I shifted my entire life to fit with yours and yeah I have a great job, but I’m not happy.” She paused to sniffle, “And I think I’m not happy because this isn’t the life I want for me. I think we waited so long because we secretly didn’t really want it to happen, if I’m being honest. But now that it’s happening, I don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry. I just don’t see my future with you.” She frowned as tears clouded her vision. She temporarily let go of her wine glass to slip off her engagement ring and place it in front of him.

“I’m calling off the wedding.” She stated with finality. He looked devastated.

“Y/N, is this a joke?” He frowned, anger settling in.

“No, it’s not a joke, Grant. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to get back whatever I can from all the money we’ve spent on everything, but I’m leaving. Thank you for giving me so many irreplaceable memories. They mean more than you know.” She wiped her tears and got up from her seat.

“Wait, so does this mean you’re quitting the job?” He asked, still in awe of the situation.

“No, I’m staying at the BAU, I love it there, Hotch is a great boss.”

“So that’s it? You’re leaving me?” For the first time that night, his eyes welled up with tears.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m staying with Penelope until I can find a place to rent.” They hugged one last time and she took her things and left.

Just like that.

And she’d never felt lighter. She’d never felt more free.

***

Anderson had requested a transfer to a different unit and so they barely saw each other at work. Everything was going really well actually. Over the past two weeks, she allowed herself only one day of wallowing but her priorities were finding a new apartment to live in. They’d already spent so much money on the wedding, so it was difficult to be spending at the moment, but thankfully Garcia’s freezer was full of individually packed meals from the catering company. She lived off those so far and it’d probably stay that way for the next few months or at least until she found her own freezer to fill with individually packed meals.

She hadn’t seen Spencer since that day in the hospital because apartment hunting in DC turned out to be a nightmare. But it’s fine, she’s been getting all her information from Garcia since she’d been performing daily checkups on him since he’d started his medical leave. Apparently, the ever-so-stubborn Spencer decided to continue giving his guest lectures even on his crutches. Ever since Rossi joined the team, he’d been taking Spencer to different universities and they’d often give lectures together. Y/N should’ve been glad that he’d been leaving the house, but it was so hard not to worry about him. He should be coming in today, his two weeks of medical leave are technically over, but he can’t go out into the field yet.

Also, the team was about to get a new member. Y/N was super excited, she was the one who got to show new members around the office and introduce them to everyone. She was also super excited to finally see Spencer. The ding of the elevator sounded and Y/N leapt from her seat upon seeing Spencer waddle in on his crutches through the glass doors, which were being opened for him by a young-looking blonde woman.

“Spencer!” Y/N exclaimed, bounding over to him and making sure to hug him gently as to not topple him over or hurt him.

“Hey!” He smiled, attempting to return the hug without his arms.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re finally back! The place was starting to get a little depressing!” She smiled, a new happiness filling her. She only noticed the woman standing so close to Spencer when she pulled away.

“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” He smiled at her fondly, resting on his crutches. “Oh, Y/N, this is Agent Ashley Seaver. She’s the newest member of the BAU and actually my girlfriend.”

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bluesylveon2 · 3 years

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My My, I Could Never Let You Go

Summary: Sasha Zoe just wants her dad to walk her down the aisle. There is only one problem: she doesn't know who her dad is! Sasha invites 3 men in hopes of finding out which one is her father. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairings: Levi x Hange, Sasha x Niccolo, and other background relationships

Disclaimer: This is a Levihan Mamma Mia au. This fanfic is inspired by Mamma Mia which is directed by Phyllida Loyd, written by Catherine Johnson, and uses music from the pop group ABBA. Attack on Titan is a manga/anime series written by Hajime Isayama and published by Kondasha

A/N: I’m alive! I would insert a sob story, but I’ll spare you the details. I RECOMMEND looking up Mamma Mia Dancing Queen by Movieclips on Youtube to get a feel of the end (look for the ******). Enjoy!

Need to catch up? Catch up here!

Ch 5: Dancing Queen

Rico and Nanaba were out drinking again at a nearby bar while Hange was away. Hange mentioned how she had to grab some things from her goat house, so Rico and Nanaba took it upon themselves to drink some more and talk to the locals.

Rico looked up at the bartender in front of her. She recognized him as one of the men who had helped her and Nanaba earlier. This man was way taller than her, and definitely over 6 feet. He had long, light ash-brown hair styled in a mullet, and he had small, intense golden-brown eyes. It almost gave him a vicious look. This time the man was shirtless and only wore swim trunks. It's a good thing wearing swimwear on/underneath clothing was considered normal on the island.

“Here you go, one cocktail for a beautiful woman like you.” he slides the drink over to Rico and gives her a wink. Rico grabbed the drink and gave the man a flirty smile. Definitely not vicious. He seemed like a nice and flirty guy to her.

Maybe husband number 4? Rico smirks as she drinks her cocktail. Don’t get Rico wrong now. She knows what is out of line when it comes to choosing her future husband. However, a little bit of flirting won’t hurt.

“Thank you…” Rico trailed off. Shoot. She never got the guy’s name.

Jean grabs a wet rag and starts cleaning off the bar “Jean. I’m also one of Sasha’s friends.”

“Ah, I heard of you!” Nanaba yells out suddenly. She looks at Jean with excitement. Nanaba loves learning about the bits and pieces of Sasha’s life. After all, it’s been years since she has last seen her. “Sasha has talked a lot about you! You’re Niccolo’s best man, right? Have you been on the island this whole time?”

Jean nodded “Yes and no. Yes, I am Niccolo’s best man. No, I haven’t stayed on the island the whole time. I actually came back a few months ago to prepare for the wedding. I’ve been busy with college studying for art before coming back. I'm currently staying at the old house that I share with my friend, Marco.”

Jean is a Fine Arts major at the Paris College of Art. He agreed to study in France because of his mom. You see, Jean originally lived in France before moving to Kalokairi to be more independent. He was from Strasbourg, which is about 500 km away from Paris. It’s a long drive, but it is worth it for him to see his mom’s smile every time he visits. Jean also works part-time in the bar in Kalokairi to help pay for his expenses. Jean is lucky his old boss let him work again, or else he would be doomed.

Jean reminisced when he first came back to Kalokairi. He was excited to see Sasha again and for the wedding. Jean views Sasha as a sister he wishes he had, and he was genuinely happy to be a part of her wedding.

Jean smiled at the memory. He was strolling through the island, greeting the locals and familiar faces. In fact, Jean was too busy reminiscing to even hear the sound of running footsteps heading towards him from behind. It was then when Jean’s peace was ruined by Hanami jumping on his back. She loudly proclaims her excitement for them working together for Sasha’s wedding (she is Maid of Honor, and he is the Best Man).

Jean sighed as he finished wiping off the bar. That woman is gonna be the death of him one day.

Nanaba looked up to find Rico studying Jean, who was lost in thought. Oh no. Here comes Husband number 4 already.

She rolls her eyes and looks at Rico's drink. It had a peachy color, decorated with an orange wedge on the rim and a mini umbrella. It looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t put a name to it. The orange slice meant it’s definitely fruity. Ironically enough, Nanaba is not a big fan of fruity drinks. She likes a fruity smell in her perfume though. Nanaba prefers drinking beer or hard alcohol like whiskey.

Nanaba grabs Rico's attention. “Hey Rico, what kind of drink did you get?” She proceeds to drink her beer.

“Sex on the beach,” Rico replies nonchalantly. This causes Nanaba to almost choke on her drink. She began to have a coughing fit.

Rico repeatedly slaps Nanaba’s back until she stops coughing. “Did I say something wrong, Nana? Why did you start coughing?” Rico raised an eyebrow.

Jean, noticing Nanaba’s coughing fit, stops making drinks for other customers, to give Nanaba a napkin. She thanks him, and Jean nods and returns back to his job.

Nanaba wipes her mouth and turns to Rico. “Are you trying to imply something by ordering that specific drink with him? You're staring is not exactly subtle, you know." She quickly darts her eyes to Jean, who was busy doing his job and not eavesdropping on their conversation.

Rico laughs and takes a sip of her drink. “Take your mind out of the gutter, Nana.” Rico smirks “I just wanted to order a drink. That’s all. Unless...maybe I am?" She winks at Nanaba and laughs.

Nanaba rolls her eyes and smiles at Rico. She wasn’t surprised that Rico took the opportunity to mess with her. Nanaba looks over to Jean to make sure he is busy. She places a hand on Rico’s shoulder and looks at her with a serious face.

“Don’t mess with the poor boy, Rico. You’re old enough to be his grandmother,” she says with the most serious tone she could come up with. She takes her hand away and takes another sip of her beer. Rico lightly slaps Nanaba’s shoulder in fake offense and laughs again. Of course, Nanaba would point that out. Rico was ready to make a comeback but stopped as she heard running heading in her direction.

Both women turn around from their seats to see an exhausted and frightened Hange run up to them. Hange’s hair was messier than normal, and her glasses were slightly crooked. One of the straps of Hange’s overalls came loose too. She looked as if she ran a marathon or was practicing for the Olympics.

“Where’s Sasha?” Hange asks as if her life depended on it.

Jean, who noticed Hange's appearance, answers for Rico and Nanaba. “I think she’s at the beach with the other girls.” He goes back to his job but doesn't question Hange’s looks. He doesn't want to die before the wedding.

“What’s up?” Nanaba asks tenderly and reaches up to fix Hange’s glasses. Now that Hange was up close, she noticed how red her eyes were and the tears that were ready to spill.

Hange was overwhelmed with emotions. She has to juggle running the hotel, Sasha’s wedding, and now deal with her past lovers! This was not how she wanted Sasha’s wedding to go. She couldn’t bear the idea of having both sides meet. What would the men think? Heck, what would Sasha think? Hange has been vague about Sasha’s father for years now. Would Sasha hate her for keeping them a secret? She doesn’t even know who Sasha’s actual father is!

Hange felt her dam begin to burst and some snot running down her nose. Hange ignored Nanaba’s question and ran off to the nearest bathroom. She ignores Nanaba and Rico calling out to her. Hange ran into the nearest open stall, closed the door and the toilet seat, and sat down to cry. She didn’t want the whole island to see her at the moment, so crying in the bathroom was the best thing to do. Hange grabs a part of her overalls to blow her nose.

Meanwhile, Nanaba and Rico (who brought her purse and her drink) followed Hange to the bathroom and called out her name. Sadly, there was no reply. She only heard the soft cries coming from the nearest stall. Nanaba runs to the front of the door. Rico closes the bathroom door and sets her stuff down before joining her.

Nanaba knocks on the door and turns to Rico with a worried look on her face. There was no response again except for Hange blowing her nose.

“Talk to her,” Rico whispers to Nanaba. Nanaba nods her head and turns back to the door. She leans towards it and takes a deep breath.

“Hans.'' She starts with Hange’s nickname from college. Nanaba spoke to Hange with a tender and caring tone. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Nanaba places her ear against the door and waits to hear anything from Hange. She only hears soft whimpers instead. This caused Nanaba to frown. She turns to Rico and moves her hand in a hurry-up motion. She already put some effort into this. Now it's Rico’s turn.

“Oh, right! Uhh…” Rico was unsure about what to do. She hasn’t seen Hange cry like that in years. The last time Rico heard Hange cry like that was after Levi left, and it was over the phone too! She glances at Nanaba who kept encouraging her to go.

Rico was unsure about what to say. She’s not the best at comforting people, but she will at least try. For Hange. “I’ve never seen you with so much sorrow, Hans."

Nanaba turns to Rico in realization and grabs her shoulders "and the wedding is tomorrow!"

"We have to see Hange!" She whispers to Rico.

Rico nods in agreement and takes Nanaba’s hands off of her. "Good plan. You go on all fours on the floor, and I'll stand on your back. You look from the bottom, and I'll look from the top."

Nanaba looked at Rico with disbelief "Are you crazy? It's logical for me to be on the top. I'm the tallest!"

Rico pinched the bridge of her nose, causing her glasses to move up slightly. She sighed while Hange’s crying continued in the background.

"Now is not the time to be comparing heights, Nanaba. Hange is not emotionally stable right now, and she needs us to help. Besides, it's logical for you to be on the bottom. You're heavier than me."

Nanaba wanted to punch Rico for playing the weight card, but she did have a point. She also knows about Rico’s cleaning standards (which aren’t as high as Levi’s, but only Hange knows that), so she won’t go down on the floor unless she has to.

Nanaba sighed. Now was the time for arguing. They needed to focus on Hange and can deal with Rico later.

"Fine." Nanaba moved to go on all fours on the floor. She tilted her head towards her back "Hop on."

Meanwhile, Hange continued to cry into her palms. She was too depressed to even hear what was going on the other side of the door. The memories with all three men kept replaying in her mind nonstop. Hange can recall cuddling on the beach with Erwin. She can picture dancing with Mike underneath the night sky on his yacht. She also remembers the time when Levi kissed her forehead when she pretended she was sleeping one day. Hange continued to cry but stops when she hears a thump on the door.

Hange looks up to find Rico staring down at her and holding on to the door. Now Hange was confused. Rico is too short to look over from the top. Unless…

She let her eyes fall downward to find Nanaba looking at her from the bottom. Both she and Rico had a concerned look on their faces.

"I hate to see you like-” Rico gestures to Hange “-this."

Hange looks up at Rico as she continues on. Hange felt ridiculous. Here she was crying over 3 men on the toilet. She knew she looked like a mess. She needs to get up from the toilet first in case her friends suddenly burst into song.

Nanaba adds onto Rico’s statement, "Hans, you can't deny that you're sad. It's just...We haven't seen you this sad since- ahh!" She and Rico scream as Hange suddenly opens the door.

Hange runs out to the bathroom door and to the nearest sink. Nanaba and Rico quickly stood up and went to either one of Hange’s sides. Rico and Nanaba patted Hange's back to comfort her. They didn't want to force Hange to talk. She can talk when she is ready.

Hange looks at herself in the mirror. She looks and feels like shit. Ironically, it made her think about Levi. What was that nickname Levi would call her besides Four Eyes? Shitty Glasses. Hange looked at herself in the mirror. Now her whole face played the part too. It almost made Hange laugh. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she could see some snot dripping down her nose. Hange wipes it off with a tissue Rico put out in front of her. Hange’s clothes looked disheveled too. She couldn't recognize herself in the mirror.

Nanaba leaned her head on Hange’s shoulder. Hange smiled and put her right hand on Nanaba’s cheek as thanks. Rico leaned on Hange’s other shoulder, and Hange placed her head on top of Rico's.

"You're our best friend, Hange," Nanaba says softly. She uses Hange’s actual name instead of her nickname. That's how Hange knew Nanaba was being serious.

"You can rely on us" Rico replies next with a soft tone as well.

Hange begins to cry again. What did she do to deserve friends like them? They saw Hange rise and fall in life, yet they stayed by her side no matter what.

Nanaba and Rico, who noticed Hange’s waterworks appearing again, turns Hange away from the mirror. They push her up to sit on the sink. Nanaba and Rico sat down on the sink next to Hange after she was situated.

Rico speaks up first after a moment of silence "You’re usually so sure of yourself Hange. Now, look at you. You look so broken." She looks at Hange with concern. "Just know that it's ok to cry. You’ll be up and dancing again once your pain ends" She rubs Hange’s arm and Hange smiles at the gesture.

Nanaba leans towards Hange to fix her overalls, and Hange turns to look at her. "I hope we can patch up whatever is going on, Hange. We just want to see you happy again." Hange smiles at Nanaba’s words.

"That's it!" Rico suddenly says "you just need a little pick me up. That would help cheer you up!" Rico turns to Nanaba. "Help me out her Nanaba."

Both women jump down from the sink. Rico goes to her purse, which was nearby. Nanaba takes off Hange’s glasses and stands ready for whatever Rico has in store.

First, Rico hands Nanaba some tissues to wipe Hange’s tears and snot. Nanaba wipes Hange’s nose until Rico starts throwing one too many tissues at Hange.

Second, Rico grabs a breath spray freshener. Nanaba opens her mouth for Hange to mimic as she takes off the cap. Nanaba sprays it one time, but Hange starts coughing from the spray entering her throat.

Third, Rico grabs some perfume and hands it to Nanaba. Hange was expecting a few sprits of perfume not bathing in the whole bottle! Hange sneezes because of the perfume. Maybe she would smell good enough to be up to Levi’s standards? Hange rolls her eyes at the thought.

Finally, Rico grabs her cocktail for Hange to drink. Nanaba works to redo Hange’s ponytail. Hange reaches over to grab the drink, but Rico moves it out of her reach. Rico places the drink on Hange’s lips and tilts the glass up to a point Hange might as well chug the whole thing. Hange moves her hands up and takes the drink away from her mouth.

"OK! I appreciate the help, you guys!" Hange cries out. She sniffs and wipes her nose with her arm. She might as well confess and get straight to the point

"It's her dad," Hange confesses.

Nanaba and Rico were confused. "Who's dad?" Rico asks.

Hange looks at Rico with a serious face. "Sasha’s dad" she clarifies

Hange stares at her friend’s faces but was met with silence. She decided to continue with her story.

"Remember how I told you it's Levi, the supposed mystery guy who is actually a millionaire? The man who left to get married."

Nanaba and Rico nodded to show they are following Hange’s story.

"Well, there were two other guys. Around the same time. You already met one of them before."

Hange looks up at Nanaba. Although Nanaba was looking at the floor, Hange could see the gears turning in her head and the puzzle pieces fitting together. Nanaba realized who she was talking about and how he and Hange did more than just ‘go on nightly boat rides.’

"The man who accidentally ran into you that day...the boat rides...” She looks up to meet Hange’s eyes. “One of them is Mike. Isn't it?"

Hange nods and looks away in shame. She didn't want to see Nanaba’s reaction. Hange suspected Nanaba had a crush on the guy, but she noticed it too late. Hange’s mind was clouded by her summer romance to even notice Nanaba’s longing stares at Mike. Hange still feels guilty and selfish about it to this day.

Rico placed her hand on Hange’s cheek so she can face her. "Why didn't you tell us?"

“Well, I never knew I would ever have to really! I don't even know who Sasha’s actual father is!” Hange confesses.

Nanaba placed her hand on Hange’s shoulders for support. Hange didn't see any hatred in Nanaba’s eyes after confessing about sleeping with Mike. Bless Nanaba’s heart. “Well, we already know Levi and Mike. Who’s the third guy?”

Hange takes a sip of her drink before responding, “A man named Erwin Smith. I don’t think any of you know him. He left Kalokairi before you guys arrived.”

Nanaba takes her hand off of Hange’s shoulder and shakes her head “The name does not ring any bells.”

Hange looks at Rico expecting the same reaction as Nanaba. What she did not expect was Rico’s mouth wide open in shock.

“Erwin Smith. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a face that looks like he starred in a movie? That Erwin Smith?” Rico asks as if she was in a trance

Hange looked at Rico with surprise. “Yes?”

Suddenly, Rico broke out of her trance and jumped with excitement. Hange and Nanaba looked at her confused.

“I’ll take that you know Erwin Smith?” Nanaba asks after Rico calmed down a bit

“Of course! Who doesn’t know who he is?” Rico said

“Apparently me,” Nanaba mumbles to herself, but Rico hears her anyway.

Rico sighs after calming down a bit. She takes out her phone and googles Erwin’s name. She pulls up the first image of him and shoves her phone to her friend’s face.

“Of course you wouldn’t, Nanaba. Erwin was on the cover of People’s: Sexiest Men Alive a few years ago and was in the Top 10 of the Most Handsome Faces in TC Chandler!”

Rico looks at Hange and Nanaba’s faces. She was expecting an exciting reaction but was met with her best friends just staring at her.

Rico continues instead “His dad was a successful university professor and is known for his contributions in research and activism. Erwin is similar to him, except he is a lawyer. Overall, Erwin is a very influential person in New York, and he has a good looking face”

Rico turns off her phone and pockets it away, and turns to Hange. “Hange, you’re a lucky gal to have slept with him. I gotta say that I’m impressed. You gotta introduce me to him sometime.”

Nanaba rolled her eyes. Hange couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I knew he was a lawyer, but not all of that!” she waves her hands around to emphasize it. She ignored Rico’s suggestion for now.

Rico gave Hange a sympathized smile “Well, you’ve been so focused and dedicated to your hotel and Sasha. I’m not surprised you don’t pay much attention to everything outside of Kalokairi or even Greece.”

Meanwhile, in Nanaba’s head, she was trying to fit all of the puzzle pieces together. She didn’t see any of the men when she and Rico first arrived on the island, nor did she see them while heading to the hotel.

So that means they arrived after us, Nanaba thought. The question is, where are they now?

“Hange” Nanaba interrupts Rico and Hange’s conversation. Rico had asked Hange who she thought was the best out of the three she slept with. Nanaba could tell who she picked based on Hange’s small yet goofy and Rico’s 'are you serious?' face. “Where are the men now?” she asks carefully.

Hange’s face became horrified. She last saw them in the old goat house, but what if Sasha came back from the beach? How would she react?

“The old goat house,” Hange says. She looks at both of her friend’s faces “We can’t let them meet Sasha!”

Nanaba and Rico quickly grab their things as Hange puts the drink down and jumps off the sink. The three ran off towards the goat house, but not too fast to avoid any suspicion from any onlookers.

Meanwhile, Sasha and her friends peeked up from their hiding spots to find Rico and Nanaba entering the barn. They went back into hiding as soon as Hange entered.

“Don’t let them hear you!” Hange whispers as Rico and Nanaba climb up the steps to the attic.

Nanaba opened the hatch and looks inside first. Rico and Hange followed after only to find nothing.

“There’s no one here,” Nanaba says in shock.

Rico turns to Hange. “Are you sure?” she asks questioningly.

Hange rolls her eyes. “Of course, I'm sure! Do you think I would forget my daughter’s dads?”

She sighs. “They were all here. Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, and Mike Zacharias.”

Sasha takes a quick peek from her hiding spot with Mikasa to find her mom walking down the steps from the attic. Nanaba and Rico followed behind her.

“They must have gone on Mike’s boat,” Hange says as she walks out of the barn. “I hope they hit aground and drown.”

Hange enters the hotel and goes up the stairs to go to her bedroom. “What are they even doing here? It’s like fate just hates me today,” she says and throws her hands up in the air.

“Do they know about Sasha?” Nanaba asks as she runs up the steps.

“What are they, psychic?. Of course not! I never told a soul.” Hange turns to face Nanaba before heading into her room.

“Not even Pieck?” Nanaba asks and puts her purse down.

“I never told her too,” Hange says as she paces around near her bed.

“Oh Hange, you kept this to yourself all these years,” Rico says sympathetically and puts her stuff down.

Hange stops pacing and heads to her balcony door. “It doesn’t matter to me.” She closes the door. “The only thing that matters is that Sasha does not find out.”

Rico puts her hands on her hips and watches Hange walk around the room. “Maybe she might be cool with it?” she suggests.

Hange walks up to her bedroom door and closes it. “Cool with it,” she repeats. When would Sasha ever be cool with something like that? She might react the same way Hange reacted to Eren and Connie accidentally breaking her vase from Ms. Alexandra. It was not a pretty sight.

Hange chuckles nervously and walks over to her friends. “You don’t know Sasha as I do. This would be like a bombshell.

“But Hange, they’re gone!” Nanaba argues

“I don’t know that! They could be anywhere for all I know!” Hange runs her hands through her ponytail and moves to sit in front of her vanity.

She looks at herself in the mirror “I did this all to myself because I was stupid and reckless little slut.” she says and glares at her reflection.

Rico and Nanaba both gasped. “A slut?” Rico questioned. “You sound like your mother, right Nanaba?” Nanaba nods and laughs

Hange quickly turns around “I do not!” she says offensively.

“Yes, you do,” Nanaba says as Rico laughs this time.

Rico walks over to Hange’s stuff and grabs a feather boa and a ridiculous-looking hat. She then turns to Nanaba and gives her a familiar look that only Nanaba could understand. Nanaba caught on to Rico’s message and took her phone out of her pocket.

“Whatever happened to our Hange? The life and soul of the party.” Rico says dramatically. She puts the hat on top of Hange’s head and the boa around her neck.

“Yeah, the one who would talk your ears off about her research but can convince you to do a random musical number in the middle of campus? I’m astonished by how many men agreed to join." Nanaba adds as she was scrolling through her phone.

"Exactly, Nanaba! I remember how our Hange would attract so many guys with that back in New College." Rico laughs at the memories of different men walking up to Hange as she studied. Hange was too engrossed in her research to give most of them the time of day!

******

Hange could tell what Rico was trying to do. "Well, I grew up." She says as she recalls how much she has changed since.

Nanaba nudges Rico and steps away from her to give them some space. Rico smiles. "Well, you need to grow back down again Hange."

Rico jumps in her spot to face Nanaba and points to her. "Hit it, Nanaba!"

Nanaba presses play on her music app and pocket her phone away to where Hange could still hear the music. The familiar tune of “Dancing Queen” fills the room.

Hange watches her friends as they move their arms in a goofy manner, shook their hips, and sang their hearts out to the song. At one point, Nanaba and Rico faced one another and they sang to each other before directing their attention to Hange so she could sing along.

Hange squealed when her friends poked her sides. She ran to her bed and laid face down to avoid them. She moved her head up slightly to peek at her friends from her spot behind her blanket. Instead, she found her room empty, but the music continued to play.

Hange watched Rico and Nanaba rise up from the floor, go back down, and repeat the process a few times as they sang. The two eventually moved around Hange’s room and used multiple objects as props for their performance. In Hange’s opinion, Nanaba and Rico’s singing and dancing looked pretty ridiculous, but she knew they meant well. "Dancing Queen" is one of Hange’s favorite songs, and people at New College witness Hange dancing at parties. She was known as the Dancing Queen back in her college days. She wasn’t the best dancer, but anyone could tell she was having fun with one glance.

Hange started tapping her foot to the beat as she continued laying on the bed. She started reminiscing about her college days when she would go out and have fun, all while learning about biology. She remembered how she and her friends would let loose and just live life to the fullest. Hange wanted to explore and discover new parts of the world. It was one reason why she left for Kalokairi on her own all those years ago.

Hange sat up and pulled the blanket towards her. She watched as her friends go through her drawers to grab random articles of clothing to put on. Rico put on a puffy dress over her clothes, and Nanaba grabbed a random shirt and tied it around her head. Hange felt her mood change, and now she wanted to join in on the fun.

She sets the blanket aside and jumps during the song’s refrain. Hange felt as if she was the star of the show, her bed was the stage, and her friends were her audience. Hange felt alive! She felt like she was 22 again performing onstage with her friends. Hange even did a split in the air! Hange continued dancing on her bed before she had an idea. She grabbed her forgotten boa and ran out of her room.

“Where are you going?” Rico calls out while laughing.

Hange was running down the steps of the hotel, stops, and turns around to Rico. “I feel like singing today. Might as well do a musical number just like old times.” She winks and laughs as she continues running down the stairs.

Rico and Nanaba look at each other with glee before following Hange. They got their Hange back!

Hange, Nanaba, and Rico jumped around in sync as they passed the courtyard. The locals who watched nearby laughed. It looks like the trio was back at it again.

You see, before Hange had met Mike, Hange and her friends did a few performances in Kalokairi to help Hange deal with her heartbreak. Occasionally, Hange would invite the locals to perform with her, and the island would break out into a big musical (which never happened until Hange and her friends came along). The island was quiet after Hange had met Mike and her best friends left. Ever since Sasha’s birth, the locals would often find Hange singing those old songs to herself as she strolled around with her daughter. It was a sign to them that the Hange they met was still there, just dormant for now.

Hange stopped dancing once she reached a group of locals sitting around a table playing a board game. She places her boa behind one of the elderly men and lets the boa slide across his shoulders, much to his shock. The Hange he usually saw was too busy with her hotel to start dancing around for fun. Hange then places the boa across her back and on her elbows as she sang.

Meanwhile, Nanaba and Rico were out recruiting some locals to join them. It’s a good thing they were familiar with Hange and her group, or else the whole interaction would have been really awkward.

The group marched across the hotel grounds as the music continued to play good Nanaba’s phone. Hange skipped past the entrance with everyone following her. Nanaba and Rico would occasionally leave to gather more people to join as she led the group through town. Other locals were drawn to Hange’s group after seeing her singing and dancing again. Everyone singing along helped amplify the song, and everyone was in sync.

Hange was having so much fun and was having the time of her life. She skipped and sang as leads the group through different parts of the island. It felt like old times when she used to perform with her friends. Now here she was singing "Dancing Queen" with practically the whole island!

Hange started heading towards one of the piers. At this point, the group had doubled in size. A local piano player and an electric guitar player accompanied the song from their boats. The group stopped moving on the pier and continued dancing and singing to the beat. Everyone followed Hange, Nanaba, and Rico’s lead.

As the final parts of the song started to end, everyone who joined started to face Hange. They wanted her to end the song with a bang. Hange took her hair tie out of her hair and let her hair loose. She whipped her hair back and forth a bit and laughed cheerfully.

Hange came up with a good idea to end her little musical number. She looked to her left as everyone sang the final note to see Rico, who was the closest to her. Hange suddenly ran up to Rico and pushed her into the water. She then turned to Nanaba with mischievous eyes.

"Oh no, you don't!" Nanaba laughs as she attempts to run away from Hange. Nanaba didn't get far before Hange pushed her into the water too. Hange jumped in after her. Thank goodness for the invention of water-resistant cell phones. Everyone else jumped into the water after Hange.

Hange felt much better now than an hour ago. As she trod on the water, she couldn't help but think of her memories with the three men. She has happy memories with Erwin and Mike. She wishes she could say the same for Levi though. Hange felt pain thinking about him although she spent the most time with him. He was the one who broke her heart the most. Yet, swimming in the water reminded her of one time when she took off Levi’s clothes and pushed him off a pier and into the water. Hange's plan backfired when Levi grabbed her wrist to drag her with him. The goofy smile returned for just a slight moment, but it was long enough for Nanaba and Rico to catch.

Nanaba and Rico glanced at each other while treading on the water. Their plan worked for the most part. However, Hange Zoe still had some lingering feelings for Levi Ackerman.

Author’s Note:

The “Dancing Queen” scene was the hardest to write for me. I hope you like it and understand what is going on.

I apologize if any character is OOC and I know I portray Greece inaccurately.

I changed the character’s ages based on the school year in Greece (Sept 11 - June 15). Everyone is 20-21 and Armin is the oldest. Sasha’s bday changed to May.

I appreciate ANY feedback (especially after this chapter). I hope you have a good day, and everyone affected by today’s earthquake is safe.

#levihan #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #nicosasha #erwin x hange #mike x hange #mikenana #aruani #hitch x marlow #marco x mina #pokkopikku #snk #aot

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Six

“Oh Bill, wonderful to have you, you as well dear!” Molly exclaimed embracing Fleur.

Nearby, Ginny scowled to herself.

“Bill we’re surprised you came so early.” Fred commented.

“What?” The eldest Weasley asked, confused.

“Well, we thought you only came out when the moon did!” George laughed.

“Boys!” Missus Weasley scolded, making a move to lunge at her two sons. However, a loud crack sounded, indicating they had left for work.

“Those two, I swear.” Molly rolled her eyes.

“It’s okay, you got a better welcome from them then I did!” Charlie’s voice sounded from the steps.

Bill’s face brightened instantly as he unashamedly went to embrace his younger brother. They’d written each other any chance they got. They remained close, but it wasn’t the same as being with one another.

“Charlie, I’ve missed you!”

“Not as much as I missed you big brother.” He breathed pulling away, “I haven’t seen you in what a year? And you up and get yourself engaged. It’s like you're a new man.” He teases. Charlie knew about the engagement from their correspondences, but had yet to see the ring on Fleur’s finger in person.

“And you are one brave woman, agreeing to marry a Weasley.” He said turning to the blonde.

“Oui!” She teased back, making the room erupt with laughs, even eliciting a chuckle from Ginny.

“Gin, why don’t you show Fleur around while I talk to Harry?” He asked hopefully. It was his goal to get his fiancé closer with his little sister before the wedding.

With a small grunt, Ginny obliged as she ushered Fleur outside.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you Bill, but what is it you wanted to speak with me about? Things okay with the order?” Harry asked in a whisper once the girls had vanished.

Quickly, he nodded, “everything’s as good as it can be these days, I just was wondering how Ron’s been. He’s written me quite a bit.”

“Oh,” Harry said relieved, “well, he was in a funk for a while there, I reckon he still is, but now he’s realized he’s in a funk, which sort of makes things better, you know?” He tries, never been the best with feelings.

Bill chuckled, “alright I think I know what you mean. He wrote me yesterday, something about he had sort of broken up with Lavender, but made things worse with her.” He didn’t wanna say Hermione’s name in fear she was around somewhere.

“Okay let me fill you in some. It all started two days ago in our dorms...”

After twenty minutes Harry had thoroughly filled in the details Ron left out in his letter. He had also recalled some of the conversation Ron had told Harry he and Ginny had, something the youngest Weasley brother failed to mention to Charlie.

When the chosen one finished, Bill let out a low whistle. He had known Ron’s situation was messed up from the letters, but damn, his little brother, the heartbreaker. Who would’ve thought?

“Speaking of, where is Hermione? I haven’t seen her since we arrived.” Bill asked next.

The dark haired boy nodded solemnly, “I’m afraid she won’t leave Ginny’s room unless your Mum makes her. She’s pretty bummed out about her Gran, but she also agreed to ‘stay out of Ron’s way,’ whatever that means.” Harry finished with air quotes.

At this, Charlie clicked his tongue, “Ron is hopeless. This isn’t exactly potions with Snape! It’s an easy fix.” He tutted.

“Where is Ron? Surely he’d want to greet his favorite brother.” Bill says next.

“Hey!” Charlie retorts, making Harry laugh.

The oldest rolls his eyes, “all in good fun, but seriously.”

“He’s been working on something all night. I could hear him.” Harry commented.

Charlie nodded, “he had some sort of epiphany last night. He’s doing something for Hermione, all I know is that it involves Hogwarts, A History. He’s mental.”

“Ron wouldn’t pick up that book for anything!” Harry soon points out.

“Well maybe not for anything, but for someone...” Charlie trails off.

Suddenly, Ginny bursts through the door, alone.

“Where’s Fleur?” Bill questioned.

“She’s discussing something about the wedding with Mum, I had to get away,” she shakes her head, “anyone fancy a game of quidditch?”

At this both Charlie and Harry jump at the chance.

“Coming Bill?” Ginny asks as the other two boys disappear to gather their brooms.

He shakes his head, “no, I think I’ll go say hi to Ronnie. Maybe when you're done you should check up on Hermione, yeah?”

At this, his younger sister nods as he treks up to the attic.

Once reaching the door decorated with Chudley Cannon posters and gold and red emblems, he knocks.

“I’m awake Mum!” Ron promises through the door.

“Not Mum.” Bill says opening the door.

“Bill!” He exclaims excitedly, dropping the book to the ground and clambering off the bed, “how are you? How do you feel, wow, the scars have healed some. You look wicked! Like some bloke from those stories Mum reads.”

At this, he laughs, “I feel great actually. Sometimes the full moon drives me a bit mad, but it’s not like I turn or anything like that. Plus, Fleur has done wonders taking care of me, making sure I take my potions and all that.” He assures, circling to sit on the edge of Ron’s bed.

“Yeah I wouldn’t mind if she took care of me either.” He joked.

At this Bill jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Hey, kidding!” Ron laughed, “plus, I’m rather done with blondes. Forever.” He shivers remembering Lavender Brown.

“Ah,” his brother breathes, “your love life has become quite the topic from what I hear.”

At this Ron groans, “well I’m not to sure how many times ‘Ron is fucking moron,’ can be told but, glad your up to date.”

Knowing Ron’s probably had his fair share of feeling bad, Bill holds off on making him re live anything, for now, “well, rumor is you’re working on something to fix your troubles.”

The youngest Weasley boy blushes madly, “it’s a bit stupid really.”

“Come on just tell me.” Bill encourages.

Ron breathes in defeat, wanting to tell someone, “alright well, Charlie said a gift might do then suddenly, I was reminded of this conversation from back in fifth year...”

Ron sauntered into the common room with a moody Harry by his side. This behavior from the chosen one had become typical since the start of term, he was always so worked up over You-Know-Who and the ministry these days.

And Ron could feel for him, he really did, he just wished Harry would drop the act around him and Hermione, who believed him completely.

“Hermione.” Harry greeted too gruffly for Ron’s liking.

In response, the bushy haired witch just hummed in acknowledgement. Hermione had been engrossed in her favorite book, so Ron knew better then to bother her and simply sat to her right.

It was odd, but he rather liked to see her like this. It was almost adorable to see how invested she could get into something like a book. He admired her for it.

Harry had fallen to her left and rolled his eyes, “are you good for anything but reading Hermione?” He asked viciously.

At this, Hermione’s eyes finally left the pages of Hogwarts, A History and stared at her best friend in shock. Ron had passed shocked and moved entirely to anger. Harry looked as if he regretted what he said right after it left his mouth.

“You say you’re sorry right now!” Ron roared, jumping to his feet.

“Ron, it’s alright,” she began meekly from the velvet sofa.

“Like hell it isn’t Hermione. Just cause stupid blokes like Seamus call you a liar doesn’t mean you get to start on her!” He pointed out.

The dark haired boy sighed sadly, “I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, really Hermione”,

“It’s alright Harry.” She amended stiffly, “I think I’ll go for a walk.” The brunette quickly scrambled, grabbing her book before scampering out of the portrait hole.

As soon as she was out of sight, Harry turned apologetically to Ron, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t have.” The ginger replied softly, “and I know everything that happened with Cedric was really hard, but it’s hard for Hermione too. She thinks she could’ve done more,”

“She couldn’t have.” Harry tells him sadly.

He nods, “I know, but she doesn’t, so when you sound off telling her stuff like that, it just makes her feel bad.”

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed, “I really didn’t mean it. You were right, I was just so done with people like Umbridge and Seamus calling me liars, sometimes I forget not everyone feels that way.” He admitted.

At this, Ron stood as he clapped him on the shoulder, “it’s already done mate, just try to remember that from now on, alright?” He didn’t sound angry anymore, much to Harry’s relief.

Harry nodded as he watched Ron venture out of the common room, no doubt to find Hermione.

“Hey Ron, wait.” He called out, standing and walking to him.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“I know I was upset about you two spending summer at Grimmauld Place together,” Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Harry stopped him, “and I know why you had to do it, I just wanted you to know, I’m happy you had each other. Well, I just, I reckon you two need each other as much as I need the pair of you, does that make sense?” He rambled.

“I think so Harry, you sound a little mental though.” He joked.

“It’s just, I know how you feel about her.” He blurted out.

“Come again?” Ron had gone pale.

Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “well I’ve always had some suspicions Ron. We do share a room you know, you mumble her name like every other night.” At this Weasley turned a deep shade of red that rivaled his hair.

Soon after, the green eyed boy pointed to his face, “see that! You blushed like mad whenever she came around first year, just like you are now. I know you were taking my invisibility cloak to go down to the infirmary second year. I heard you tell Neville back in third about how much you enjoyed Hogsmede and you were painfully obvious when she agreed to go to the ball with Viktor Krum, I reckon that’s when I really knew.”

For a few moments Ron opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but in the end, he shockingly, didn’t deny it, “why didn’t you say anything?”

Harry shrugged and thought about it, “well, I suppose I was waiting for you to figure it out as well. It seems to me you have.” He smiles slightly.

Ron nods, “yeah, for a while there I just thought blokes felt like that around their mates who were girls. Probably around third year I realized it was a little different with her then it was with you. Definitely sorted it all out during that ruddy Ball.” He paused, “you’re not, well, you’re not angry?” One of the reasons Ron decided not to confide in Harry was because he didn’t want him to think there was any sort of divide.

“Of course not. If anything I’m relieved I can stop pretending not to notice.” He laughed.

At this, Ron let out an embarrassed chuckle, “well just don’t tell her alright?”

Harry nodded, “will you ever? Tell her I mean.” He asks.

At this the redhead shrugs, “I dunno, I just, it’s hard. I’d rather live my whole life watching her with other blokes then lose her as a friend.”

Potter lets out a whistle, “I can see The Prophet headlines now, ‘Weasley has Feelings!’” He laughs.

They lapse into a brief silence, “you go after her.”

Ron doesn’t need to be told twice and simply nods to his friend.

“If it means anything, I think she feels the same Ron.” Harry says rather vaguely before going to a dark corner of the common room.

For a moment, he considers staying and asking more about this theory, but instead decides to check on Hermione. Harry could wait.

After wandering the dark corridors for a few minutes, he soon feels the urge to slap himself for not thinking sooner. He hadn’t checked the library.

Set out on a new mission, he stalks his way to his new destination. However, halfway to the library he suddenly remembers that it’s probably closing soon, if not already. Inwardly groaning on not setting after her soon, he quickened his pace.

And just as he’s about to reach the proper corridor something catches his eye. In between one of the many narrow hallways leading to nothing but a window, is someone sitting against it, book in hand.

And not just anyone, Hermione.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he slowly makes his way to her, “Mione.” He begins as to not startle her, she hasn’t seemed to notice his presence.

Her brown eyes look up from her book, in the moonlight he can see them slightly glossed over as red rings appear around them.

“Oh hi.” Her voice is croaked and throaty, it makes his heart break.

“I’ve been looking all over for you.” He says softly, sliding down next to her.

“Oh I’m sorry Ron.” She apologizes sincerely, “it’s silly though isn’t it, I’ve run off to read again. Maybe Harry was right.” Her voice cracks.

“It’s not true, you know it isn’t.” Ron fiercely assured.

“If he didn’t mean it why did he say it?” The brunette asked.

He sighs sadly, “Hermione you know what he’s been like lately. As soon as you left he told me how sorry he was.”

“But it’s true isn’t it?” She asks after a beat, leaving no room for him to even protest, “all I do is sit here and read while Harry and you are off actually doing something.”

“Hermione what?” He asks genuinely confused.

“Think Ron, who got rid of that troll first year?”

“Well you were only in the bathroom because of me and you were the one who got me through the spell-”

“Alright and who won the chess game the same year? Who got the philosopher's stone?”

“Hermione we would’ve never even found the-”

She cuts him off again, “and who was lying useless petrified while you were in the chamber of secrets?”

He groans, “again if you hadn’t had the note then Harry and I-”

She leaves no room for him to speak, “and third year you were the one who even spotted Sirius.”

“I was also the one with a broken leg when the two of you-”

“Fourth year as well, you knew about the dragons.”

“Only because Charlie told me, are you done?” He asks.

“Or even this summer. You were the one who knew about the Order, even knew to handle Harry.” She’s now close to tears.

Ron let’s a moment pass before speaking, “are you finally finished?” He whispered hoarsely.

Next to him, she nodded, but didn’t dare meet her eyes with his.

“You’re mental Hermione. Mental. Don’t you know we’d be dead without you? You’re the one who figured out the Nicholas Flamel business. You realized how the Basilisk had been getting around. And who had the time turner that saved Sirius, Lupin, and Buckbeak third year?” He reminded, “not to mention that without you, Harry would’ve never gotten through any of those tasks. Not to mention, him and I wouldn’t even be friends if you hadn’t convinced me to talk to him. And this summer? You’re the one who kept me sane when I was ready to hex everyone there.”

He took a second to catch his breath after the long rant, “sure you read a lot of books, but that’s not why you’re brilliant. You’re brilliant because you know exactly what to say to help your friends. You know exactly how to save the rest of us.” At this, she completely broke down.

Hermione’s head soon found a place atop Ron’s shoulder as she burrowed into it and cried silently. If this had happened a few years back, Ron would probably stiffly pat her head, but now, he knew better.

Instead, he gently laid an arm across her shoulder and pushed her into him with a squeeze. His other hand made its way through her soft hair, letting his finger gently massage her scalp.

“Thank you Ron,” she managed soon after, “I’ve just been feeling so useless, hearing Harry,”

“Sh, Hermione,” he assured soundly, “I know how it feels too, but being here, even making you feel the tiniest bit better, well, it makes me feel not so useless.” He admitted, thankful she couldn’t see his now red cheeks.

At this, Ron felt the witch nod into him, “you do make me feel better Ron. And you’re not useless, if I hadn’t made it clear, I think you’re rather brilliant.”

A small smile grazed his lips as he continued to stroke the expanse of her hair. Her cries had now slowed, but he still felt she was tense.

“You know Mione,” he began, making her hum softly, an indication to continue, “I understand you wanna read all the time, but this old book, again? You’ve been picking it up since first year.” He teased.

Thankfully, a small chuckle bubbles past her lips, making him feel warm.

“It’s rather pleasurable Ron, I’d love it if you read it. You have such an interesting point of view having grown up with this stuff, and well just being you, I’m sure your notes on it would be fascinating.”

“Sorry to disappoint you Mione, as much as I love y,” he pauses, “as much as I love reading,” he amends sarcastically, “I’d need a bloody good reason to pick this thing up. And I mean important, life or death maybe.” He tells her.

Again, a small laugh escapes from where she's nuzzled into his side.

“One day Ron. One day.”

They stayed like that until she fell asleep.

“I thought maybe if I read this damn thing and made notes on what I thought and gave it to her, then it would show her how much she means to me.” He explained after briefly prefacing the significance behind it.

To this, Bill smiled brightly, “I think it’s a wonderful idea Ron. Very thoughtful and personal to the pair of you, plus she’ll go nuts when she’s learned you picked up a book!” He teased, “what section are you on?”

“I’ve gotten past the four founders. Right now I’m in the middle of all the troll business. I mean, sure it sort of feels like a textbook, but part of it reminds me of her, then it’s not so bad, is that mental?” He asks a little flustered.

His older brother shakes his head, “no Ronnie, not mental. It’s almost romantic.” He jokes lightly.

At this Ron rolls his eyes, but blushes nonetheless, “thanks.”

A deep laugh escapes Bill as he stands from the bed, “I’ll be on my way now. You have a lot of reading to do in just three days little brother.”

“Oi! And don’t I know it.” Ron yells as he leaves the room.

#rons-hermiones come find me #ron and hermione #ron weasley #ron x hermione #hermione granger #sixth year #romione fanfic #romione #hp #hp fanfic

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

i can’t carry this anymore

part twelve: i can’t carry this anymore

Summary: After Freddie goes back to Toronto, You are bombarded with questions and judgements from your family

Warning: mostly angst but some fluff as well

Author’s Note: Here is the angsty chapter, yay! I think I’ve only done angsty sections in this series but this chapter will be (almost) completely angst, with a touch of fluff to round it out, which either means it’s really long or really short. Since I haven’t written it yet, I can’t say yet. Also! I’ve been listening to this song nonstop and I love it. I wanted to put it into something but I didn’t really know how but then this idea of a death in the family came up and it seemed fitting. I hope you enjoy it! Stay Golden, Loves! ❤️

masterlist

the other masterlist

Song Credit: I Can’t Carry This Anymore -- Anson Seabra

You hated watching Freddie leave and that Vita had to see her parents fight but you were too stubborn to admit you were wrong.

“Why did you tell him to leave?” your mom asked

“Mom, please” you groaned

“Why did you let him leave?” Lauren added

“I. Have. To. Be. Here,” you explained, emphasizing each word bitingly, “I made a promise to everyone and I can’t just bail because he needs to get back to training”

“Baby,” your dad added softly, “it’s his job, he’s committed to it”

“But it’s not that simple, dad,” you sighed, “he never talked to me about this. I wake up and he’s telling me we have to leave. I get that he’s committed to his job and I love that about him but this is something that is happening with me and he shouldn’t just expect me to bail on it because he needs me to”

“Sometimes you need to compromise!” Lauren argued

“What do you know about any of it, Laur?”

“Hey now,” your mom tried, “don’t talk like that”

“No, I’m serious. I’m really curious, mom,” you continued, talking about your sister as if she weren’t there, “She’s never had to compromise with anyone. Ever. Her relationships have always been easy!”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Lauren yelled

“Girls...” your dad tried

“All relationships need work, including mine. All relationships need to have some kind of compromise--”

“I DO COMPROMISE!” You interrupted, “the father of my child is gone days, weeks at a time. I didn’t get to have a honeymoon because the hockey season started. I’ve spent more time talking about the Stanley Cup than I have about birthday parties and engagement parties and Christmases. He gave me a beautiful wedding and a beautiful daughter and he loves me every day and I love him every day but this was one thing, one thing that I needed him to compromise on and he wouldn’t”

“Because of his job!” Lauren repeated

“IT DOESN’T MATTER, LAUREN!” You yelled back, “this is my grandparents funeral. It doesn’t just end when they’re cremated or when their ashes are spread where they wanted, it doesn’t end for us the way it ends for everyone else. He should’ve understood that!”

“HE WANTED TO BE HOME WITH YOU SO YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO STRESS OVER DUMB SHIT!” she shouted at you, the two of you standing up to face each other as close as you could before your parents pulled you apart

“DUMB SHIT?! DUMB SHIT?!” you continued, fighting your fathers attempts to pull you away from your sister, “DUMB SHIT LIKE HELPING OUR PARENTS CLEAR OUT OUR GRANDPARENTS HOUSE? DUMB SHIT LIKE BEING A GOOD DAUGHTER? DUMB SHIT LIKE ACTUALLY GIVING A SHIT ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO THIS PLACE?”

“YOU’RE NEVER GONNA LIVE HERE! SO WHY DO YOU CARE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO THIS PLACE?!”

“THEY WERE MY GRANDPARENTS, LAUREN! THIS IS WHERE THEY LIVED! THAT’S WHY!”

“YOU HAVE A LIFE SOMEWHERE ELSE! WITH OTHER PEOPLE!”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T HAVE THIS LIFE TOO!”

“YES IT DOES! YOU’VE STARTED YOUR LIFE SOMEWHERE ELSE, YOU DON’T NEED ALL OF THIS!” You heard Vita begin to cry and you wanted to comfort her but your sisters words were still flying at you to a point where you couldn’t stop yourself from yelling at her

“WHY DO YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE SO BADLY? WHAT DO YOU GET FROM ME HOPPING ON A PLANE?”

“I J--”

“ENOUGH!” Your dad finally yelled so the two of you would stop, “You’re both being ridiculous! (Y/N), we appreciate that you want to stay here but Lauren is right, your life is with Freddie and Vita in Toronto,” Vita was still crying but it wasn’t as intense as it was before, probably due to your mom rocking her back and forth and shielding her ears from the yelling, “and Lauren, stop yelling at your sister. I know your intentions are good but you have no idea what she’s going through so stop trying to get under her skin”

“PAPA IT’S NOT MY FAULT, ALL I WAS--”

“I DON’T CARE, LAUREN!” He finally snapped, his face turning bright red and his posture becoming imposing, “YOU’RE THE OLDER SISTER, ACT LIKE IT OR GET THE HELL OUT!” Everything was silent for a while before your sister eventually left the room and you were left to pick up the pieces

“I’m sorry, Papa...” you said quietly

“You should go home, Liebling” he confessed

“Why is everyone trying to get rid of me?”

“We’re not trying to get rid of you, love,” your mom added, handing Vita to you before kissing your head, “we love you but so does Freddie. You two should be together”

“Yeah, he should’ve stayed--”

“We’re not getting into this again” your dad interrupted

“What your father means is that Vita should have both of her parents with her in a stress free environment. Running around trying to clean up a dusty old house so far away from home isn’t what your new family needs right now”

“But Mama,” you tried, “I can’t just leave. I can’t just let all of you... say goodbye to them without me”

“Is that what this is about?” your mom asked and you nodded, a small tear escaping your eye, “baby, we’re not saying goodbye without you. We’ve all said our goodbyes. This stuff here, it’s just stuff. It’s not them.”

“But it’s all their memories. Their first date, their first fight, their wedding album, your baby pictures,” you rambled, gesturing to your mom, “their favourite shows and favourite clothes. Oma’s old jewelry that she didn’t want to ruin so she would keep in a box, Opa’s old suits that he never had a reason to wear anymore or his dress blues that he kept from the Navy.”

“Baby girl,” your dad cooed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the bench in the kitchen, “your Oma and Opa lived a very full life. They had things to keep them comfortable and content but even they would agree, that these things are just things. Just stuff, like Mama said, if you want some of it to remember them, we can put them aside for you and bring them back or send them to you. But they are not this stuff. The memories are not in some dusty old suit or tattered quilt, the memories are in here,” he tapped the top of your head and you giggled, “locked away safe where you can always get to them”

“And they’ll never fade” your mom added

“That’s right,” your dad smiled and you did in return, “they would want you to make new memories with your husband and let the stuff just be stuff. Miss them, love them, but don’t worry about all the stuff.”

“Stop saying stuff,” you laughed, “oh papa.. I know it’s all things and I know that I’ll have the memories forever but it’s not just about that... It’s about Freddie wanting to leave so soon after the funeral, without even talking to me. All so he can go back to training camp for another Hockey season. It’s never about him compromising in the smallest way. I needed him here and he needed to be there... I will always come second”

“That’s not true,” your mom said, “his job is important but you are his life. Both of you. Everything he does, he does for you and your little girl. Sometimes it sucks and sometimes it doesn’t seem like he’s listening to you or compromising for you but he is. Trust me, he talks about you two all the time and says he hates that he has to be away but he wants to give you the best”

“I just want him around and sometimes it feels like the league is more important...” You shook your head, kissing the top of Vita’s head to find some kind of comfort in how you were feeling before you went to find your sister

“Laur?” you whispered from around the corner

“What?” she snapped

“I just wanted to apologize,” you said, leading her to turn and face you, “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I know you mean well but I was -- it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry, too,” she admitted, “I know how much you love him and how important it is to spend time with them. I guess I just thought that you’d want to spend as much time with him as you could.”

“I do,” you sighed, “I just... also wanted to be here. With everyone. To say goodbye to this place, these memories, these things... I didn’t want to come back one day and pass this house and realize that it’s completely different. That whoever buys it just buys it to flip it. It’s an old house and people do that with old houses you know? I just wanted one last memory here since I haven’t been here since we were kids...”

“I get that” she smiled

“But it doesn’t matter...” you continued, “I know that something is going to happen to this place, unless someone in the family buys it and keeps it exactly the same. It’s going to change because it has to. Because they’re gone... God, I can’t believe they’re gone.“ You sighed, dropping your head to your hands, “I can’t believe we’ll never hear Opa’s snort when he laughs anymore”

“Or the way Oma had to wake him up every time he fell asleep with his plate on his stomach” she laughed

“Or the way they would hold hands anytime they walked together”

“I remember when we were kids, they were babysitting us and we caught them kissing in the kitchen after Oma was finished baking cookies”

“I remember that, she had dough on her cheek and he said he was helping her” the two of you giggled at the memories

“I miss them already”

“Me too” you said quietly

“They loved us,” Lauren added, “but they loved you the most.”

“They did not” you scoffed

“No, seriously. They told me,” you laughed but she continued, “they loved me, they never denied that, but they said that you had a kindness to you that they’d never experienced before. They so admired it”

“I got it from them”

“I know,” she laughed, “but I just wanted you to know that you were the favourite.”

“Oh, Lauren....” you sighed, bouncing your daughter on your knee, “I gotta go home”

“Yes you do” she smirked

“Do you think I screwed everything up?” you winced

“Yes.” She joked and you scoffed in response, “no, you didn’t screw things up. But you do need to be there for him”

“Fine...” you laughed before standing up and making your way upstairs to pack yours and Vita’s things. It appeared that your family had already ordered an Uber for you because they were waiting outside to say goodbye.

“We love you” your dad said, hugging you tightly as the driver grabbed your bags to put them in the trunk

“Tell Freddie we love him too” your mom added

“And don’t forget to tell him you’re sorry.” You laughed before hugging your sister and hopping in the car to head to the airport; eager to get back to Freddie and make things right.

Freddie’s P.O.V

You got back to the house and dropped your bags before letting out a sigh. You weren’t sure what would happen when (Y/N) got back but you hoped a lot of time wouldn’t pass before she appeared at the door. Until then, you had to continue with your daily life; that meant waking up early the next morning and going to practice

“HEY FRED!” Willy called out to you, “wait up!”

“What’s up Willy?” you asked as you both walked to the ice

“I heard about (Y/N)’s grandparents,” he started, “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, bud. She’s still in Vienna for a bit but I’ll let her know you were thinking about her.” He patted you on the back before skating away from you and, needless to say, you couldn’t concentrate and you were quick to run home. Hoping that she would be there when you got there, “(Y/N)?!” You called out as soon as you walked in the door but not hearing a response, forcing you to collapse onto the couch

“Freddie?” her voice rang through the room and to your ear, “baby?”

“You’re here!” you exclaimed, “God, I hoped you’d be here.” You ran to hug her and she giggled as you spun her around

“I’m sorry.. for yelling and for everything,” she said, “I didn’t mean any of it”

“I know, elske” you said before kissing her face

“Fred.. Fred,” she laughed, “Fred! Hold on, we need to talk about this”

“What?” you asked and she stepped back

“I hate that you left that you didn’t want to compromise on this... I know Hockey is important, I know it’s your job but I needed you to be with me, even if it meant not being here. In Toronto.”

“I know,” you admitted, “but I did need to be here. Can you understand that?” She scoffed in response, pushing away your arms and walking toward the couch

“Sometimes, Fred, it feels like it’s all up to me. To carry everything. To carry us, this relationship, this marriage. I can understand a lot, I can put up with a lot but I’m trying to stay strong for my daughter, for you, and I don’t know how much more I can push myself before I break. I need you to put in as much effort as I seem to be. I lost two of my favourite people in the world and I couldn’t re-live their memories because I had to come back here. To deal with this.” She gestured between the two of you while you just dropped your head, “I fought with my sister and made Vita cry because I was tired of compromising. I just.. I’m scared that I’ll have to be this person forever, the one who waits for you to come home. Who drops everything even when things are going well because your career needs me to. I can’t carry this anymore, I can’t be the only one doing the giving in this relationship. I need you carry us. I need you to carry me sometimes, too, okay?”

“Of course,” you said, hugging her close and tucking your face in her neck, “I’m sorry that you feel like you have to carry all of this. I want you to drop your stuff on me, okay? Let me take your stress, let me carry you. Let me do all the things that you don’t want to do.” She giggled at your words before she lifted your chin so she could look at you

“I guess I didn’t realize how upset I was about Oma and Opa. I mean I knew I was sad, I knew I was grieving but I think I was just holding onto all of it because I wanted to be strong for everybody, I didn’t want to crumble and cry because I knew I’d never stop if I started. So I started carrying all this pain and then I took it out on you,” she said quietly, placing her hand on the side of your face as she spoke, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I was so selfish, I’m sorry I--” she interrupted you with a kiss and you tried your best not to break it, you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed kissing her until you finally had the chance again, but she needed to pull away

“I love you.” She stated simply and you kissed her nose quickly, reciprocating her words before capturing her lips in another kiss and, this time, you wouldn’t let her go.

#Frederik Andersen #Frederik Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen series #penultimate chapter #penultimate #Freddie Andersen #Freddie Andersen fic #Freddie Andersen imagine #Freddie Andersen series #masterlist #the other masterlist

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atinykidult · 4 years

Text

The Wind in His Ears — Choi San

[angst w/fluff] [2221 words] — A prompt taken overboard, wherein San loses his heart but finds it again. Disbandment!au, be warned. No tws except for loneliness (and reference of sex, I guess)

[prompt] — Travel!au, strangers to lovers, “That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”

[dedication] — If you like soft or sexy stuff please check out @sanflowerseeds‘s works! They’re phenomenal (and written by an also phenomenal person!) I’m so sorry this took so long! I love you, Nanda, and hope you’re doing well!

[a/n] — This may be my worst fic ever, bc it has gone through so many directional changes. But it’s been a WIP so long, I just wanted it posted haha If you have time, please leave me some notes on what went wrong/right! Thank you for reading!

When Choi San hits his mid-thirties and feels his joints crackle a few decibels too loudly, he knows his body won’t take much more. So when their second round of contract negotiations roll around, his decision has already been made for him.

But when Hongjoong delivers the official group stance, his heart still cracks.

And when they have their final performance, San’s the last one to cry.

Because his tears will last the longest.

The crack in his heart spreads into a veritable canyon in his world.

A scattering wind blows through that empty cavern, pulling Hongjoong to mentoring a new rookie group and Jongho to OST deals. But San gets to stand with Yeosang at his wedding; he grabs coffee with Wooyoung every other week, usually...

So San pretends he’s fine for six months.

After all… Mingi sends memes to the group chat all the time—

And Seonghwa makes sure to Facetime regularly—

San wanders the streets of Seoul, hands stuffed in his pockets, the loud wind in his ears for his only company. At home, whenever he stands up stiffly, there’s only him to laugh at his cracking joints. Well… he laughs at himself, to begin with. Then he doesn’t laugh.

One day, he’s wandering the streets again when he sees it. An ad for a travel agency.

There’s only wind in his ears as he considers it.

“A toast to San!” announces Hongjoong, voice forcibly cheerful. “Who’s going on a world tour!”

Eight glasses are lifted in the air; seven pairs of eyes look incredibly worried.

Someone wraps themselves around San as other voices chime in.

“San, fighting!”

“Let’s gooo!”

“World travel!” someone shouts in English.

San’s heart both heals and breaks again as he looks at his seven friends who dropped everything to wish him well.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he tells them wetly.

Maybe it’s Jongho’s knowing eyes that make him shed the first tear.

Maybe it’s how the others all know how much he’s hurting, and how utterly relieved San feels to be back with these seven other people.

No matter the reason, San cries at this moment, clinging to his former groupmates as they hug him goodbye. There’s promises to text, proclamations of staying up just for video chats. There’s also seven whispers of the same sentiment: I hope this can help you heal.

He meets you in a coffeeshop. Your coffeeshop, actually.

It’s his second visit, and for some reason, it’s one of his favorite places he’s found in his travels. Something about its atmosphere draws him in. The warmth. The way it has nooks where he can sit and people-watch. The way the food tastes nearly perfect every time. The way it’s so empty when he comes in for his breakfast.

The way it’s just a minute’s walk from his hotel.

Correction: It is his favorite establishment he’s found in his grand travel.

Truthfully...

The “grand travel” hasn’t been so grand. He’s jumped around the world a little, going wherever the wind blows, renting a room for however long the wind calms down. Leaving for the next city or town whenever it gets worse.

On good days, he can look around himself and feel his heart stir a little. Because he’s gotten to see some incredible things.

On bad days, he can feel the wind utterly drop. When it does, he’ll look around himself. He’ll wonder if he really wanted to see Canada that one time. Or if he just chose a country 12 hours different from Korea because maybe, just maybe, flipping his clock completely could flip his life around, too.

Today’s one of the better days, actually.

As he hands you his payment, you offer small talk.

Ask about his day.

He tells you he’s fine, that he could be much worse off, truly believing it. (But also believing he could be much better off, too.)

Something in your gaze seems to understand him.

“And how’s your day?” he offers, his pronunciation a little messy.

“It exists,” you reply.

A mirror of him, at heart.

He comes into your coffeeshop the next day and knows it’s just going to be a daily thing until he leaves this city.

That one booth in the back left corner… It has good seats.

As he settles down with the same order he had gotten the last two days, he catches your eye. Smiles with his lips.

And something about that one thing makes him realize.

He hasn’t truly had anything like this in a while. The same food, three days in a row. Someone who’s met his eyes, three days in a row.

It’s another good day.

The howling wind grows just a little quieter.

“Two orders of today’s special and an einspänner?” you ask as he moves to the counter.

His eyebrows furrow. “Oh?”

“You’ve been here three days straight, exact same order,” you smile, “first customer of the day.”

“Ah.” He takes a moment to gather his words, unsure if this was accusatory or just observation. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I can—”

“No! It’s, ah, it’s nice. You’re always very pleasant, to me.” He recalls that first encounter, how you had seemed to understand the weight of his few words. “Are you a tourist? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before this week.”

“You could say so.”

“Any plans for today?”

The wind pushing him around never made plans.

“Not really,” he admits.

“Taking it as you go?”

“You could say so.” He notices how you look at him with a measuring look. One that makes him feel seen, and he hasn’t felt that way for a very long time. But it isn’t an unwelcome feeling. “Do you have any recommendations? On what to do? Things you like?”

You smile bittersweetly. “I have some ideas.”

“Can you tell me a few?” The words come out of San’s mouth without thinking.

At that moment, the door opens with a whoosh, and another customer steps in.

“Tell... tell you what,” you say. “I have an employee coming in in half an hour. If you would like the company, I can give you those suggestions over a second cup of coffee?”

Meeting your eyes, something in him feels like hiding. But something else in him leaps at the offer. “I’m a slow eater. So yes.”

You smile again, a little wider.

His lips, too, twitch upwards of their own volition.

That day, San makes an itinerary for the first time on his trip—and, maybe, a friend.

After a long day of hiking, San collapses on his hotel room bed and feels a stirring of optimism in his chest. The weariness in his bones almost feels familiar. He had collapsed like this many times after concerts or performances.

He stares at the ceiling, consciously wondering for the first time on this trip, if he’s ready to face the wind.

His eyes land on his suitcase.

His hands move to unpack it.

And the wind in his ears, again, gets a little quieter.

As he walked into your coffeeshop the next day, he asks you to sit with him from the get-go.

You peer into his eyes, spotting equal measures of hope and uncertainty, and immediately drop your paperwork. “Of course.”

His conversation is nice; his personality is nicer. (Possibly his skin is nicest, but that’s irrelevant.)

Your conversations continue, and by the tenth day, you’re sharing the thoughts that sometimes scare you. From your worries about disappointing everyone to wondering if your degrees even mattered... you spill it all out. He does the same.

Which is scary, because you’ve only known him for ten days. Seven, really.

Based on the way he’s ducking his head right now, his story hanging in the air sadly, he must feel similarly.

(He hasn’t told anyone about his story, his sad state, since he left Korea. He doesn’t share every detail, but he says enough that both he and the wind in his ears feel very shaken.)

Forty minutes later, he stands to leave, and you hear some joints crack.

“Maybe the chiropractor?”

His smile in response is remorseful.

You stand, too, and feel your neck crack a little.

“Maybe we both can go?”

And the smile is a little less sad.

You have known San for two weeks now, and today, he enters the shop much more confidently than usual. With a shy smile (but genuine, you realize), he shows you pictures of a lake you had directed him to. He had caught it on a good day. As he lets you scroll through the pictures, you find that someone must have taken his picture for him.

You want to say something meaningful as you study the way his skin has grown so golden in these two weeks. The way his smile reaches his eyes.

“You look nice here,” you say simply.

That shy smile turns larger.

You don’t know if this is a bad habit, dropping everything to share breakfast with San every morning. But, what did it hurt anything? After you asked your employees to come in early to cover for you, they agreed too quickly.

Because they are amazing humans, you think.

And because they are ridiculous humans, they smile knowingly at each other as either you or him look at the other for a moment too long.

And, because you both are pathetic, San and you never notice.

By the third week, you wonder why you haven’t exchanged phone numbers.

Naturally, then, you laugh and casually give him your number after he admits getting lost yesterday.

“I know you’re not a damsel in distress or anything, but next time… just call me if you get lost.”

He doesn’t mean to look at you so intently after that, but he does.

You don’t look away.

Swallowing, he wonders if you can see the lingering sadness he feels, the wind still throwing him off balance sometimes. The weight of knowing how worried his hyungs are for him, the fear that he had done something to his body when he was younger, so it was all his fault somehow...

But as your gaze slips to his lips for just a moment, he also wonders if you are seeing what thousands of fans had once seen. Something worthy.

When your gaze moves back to his eyes, and you start talking about nonsense, he knows: You could see it all, and more, even.

San feels something stir in his chest, something warmer and kinder and more enticing than the thrall of dancing to thousands of cheers.

When he finally finds it in himself to say goodbye, he can’t help but ask. “Can I call you when I’m not lost, too?”

Three days after that, San wakes and feels an impossibly strong urge to sing. Just something bright and loud. Something hopeful.

He pictures your coffeeshop and your face.

And he feels himself smiling widely.

Opening his phone, his fingers type faster than the wind:

Heading your way in 10 :)

That weekend, you go drinking together.

You’re both tipsy, sitting in a bar booth with your sides pressed together, and everything comes to head.

You’re both tipsy and warm, filters long lost, when San pours out the rest of the story to you. The side of the story that the wind in his ears usually hid in white noise.

It’s a euphoric story with deafeningly beautiful highs, but also a heartbreaking one with devastatingly ugly lows. But as he pours out the joys of standing on stage, of the laughter-filled, starlit walks back to the dorms, you know it was worth it to him.

And you also come to know, he didn’t choose to quit.

He keeps pouring drinks; keeps pouring out his emotional, earnest soul.

Midway through the night, your dulled head has just enough awareness to realize you are in love with that soul.

And as you have to wave away another glass, you will always hold onto the magnificent moment when he admits: “But I don’t feel sad about any of it when I’m with you.”

The next day, you wake up at your place. San’s lying beside you.

“Morning,” he groans.

If your head and body didn’t hurt so much, that alone would have inspired you to restart last night’s activities.

“Everything hurts,” you groan.

“Same.”

Your legs are slightly brushing each others, but your torsos aren’t touching. It makes you feel sad. Then something in you melts when he shifts his weight closer to you so they are.

“Are”—you yawn—”we going to that… ugh…. waterfall today?”

“Not after last night.” He buries his face against your hair.

“Yeah…” Your head throbs, and you groan again. “That was a very bad idea, 0/10 would not recommend.”

San makes an offended sound in the back of his throat. “The alcohol or the sex?”

Yawning again, you can barely reply. “You know which one.”

He kisses your head and yawns as well. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

“Soon.”

“Soon?”

“But... not right now.”

After yawning together, he chuckles against your hair. “Yeah, sleep... for now.”

As you both close your eyes again, San can only hear two things:

One, the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Two, the soft hum of your ceiling fan.

He falls asleep knowing:

There’s no wind.

[ateez taglist] — @seongghwaa @s1ardusk @yunwoo @toffee-hwa @yunhowhoitiss @sippn-the-tae @yeocult @barsformars (thank you for your support! I love y’all so much!!! <3 <3 <3)

#ateez #choi san #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #san imagines #choi san imagines #kpop #kpop imagines

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lochrannn · 3 years

Link

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Ben Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 8/9

They’ve planned to head out early in the morning, because they will have to drive for a couple of hours to get to the more scenic part of the coast that Diego’s never actually been to himself. So the evening before he stops by Ben’s to borrow his camera. To his annoyance Klaus is also there.

Diego loves Klaus and he’s usually glad to see him and always relieved to see him in a safe and relatively normal place. He hasn’t forgotten the years of crawling along the city’s streets in his car in the dead of night, looking for Klaus because nobody had heard from him in days, or picking him up from shady ass bars, high as a kite.

But Klaus, despite the fact that he seems a little spaced out half the time, has always had an unfailing read on him and Diego really doesn’t want to get into it with Klaus what his plans are for tomorrow and why he needs Ben’s camera. Dealing with his brother’s shenanigans at the wedding was bad enough.

“So you’re taking your fake wife on a fake honeymoon beach trip to take some romantic pictures and you have absolutely no ulterior motive, you say?” Klaus asks, sipping on a large mug filled with a very fragrant and spicy smelling tea in Ben’s living room.

Diego’s leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed defensively, while Ben is over by the dining table unpacking his camera equipment and trying to pare down the amount of stuff he’s going to send Diego out with and very pointedly trying to look like he’s not listening. “First off, Lila’s my actual wife, you were literally the witness, Klaus, and second of all, yeah, I have an ulterior motive, I want to help her convince immigration officials that we didn’t just get married so she could get a visa!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, stop deflecting!” Klaus says in that mild tone of his that always puts Diego on edge.

“Why, what other ulterior motive could I have other than scamming the government?” Diego asks in irritation and then instantly regrets opening that door for Klaus. The slow grin that spreads across his brother’s face makes Diego regret a lot of choices in his life.

“I think you’re in love with your wife, you weirdo!” Klaus says, batting his eyelashes at him and Diego tries not to react, but then thinks that may be exactly the wrong choice, so a little too late he grimaces and says, “Don’t be silly!”

“Oh please, it was written all over your face at the wedding. And so much sexual tension between the two of you, maybe you should fuck and see whether that resolves it,” Klaus offers with a shrug.

“Yeah, no… that didn’t really work…” Diego breathes out and then instantly realizes the horrible mistake he made when both his brothers almost shout, “What?!” at the same time.

“Urgh, you slept with your wife, you pervert?” Klaus squeals in delight, almost falling over on the couch laughing at his own joke.

“She wasn’t my wife then…” Diego shoots back and he just doesn’t know how this keeps happening. Why is he arguing about this with Klaus? He really, really doesn’t want to talk about it, but Klaus just always manages to push his buttons.

“Oh, intriguing! Do tell!” his brother rights himself on the couch and looks at him with big curious eyes.

“Absolutely fucking not!” Diego says grumpily and crosses his arms again, trying to physically make himself shut the fuck up.

“But then what are you even doing, Diego?” Ben pipes up from the other side of the room and that is almost worse, Diego thinks, because Ben’s going to end up making a good point, “You’re clearly in love with each other, you’re having sex, you live together, you’re married, but for some reason you say you’re not actually together?”

“We had sex once, and Lila’s not in love with me!” Diego grumbles just for the sake of disagreeing with Ben.

“But you’re in love with Lila?” Ben asks at the same time as Klaus says, “Oh please, Lila is definitely in love with you! I thought she obviously wanted to bang you, but now I know she already got there that puts all the longing looks she gave you in a completely different light!”

Diego’s not inclined to simply believe his hyperbolic brother and suddenly talking about the whole thing stings in a peculiar way, so he tries to not pout when he stabs a finger at one brother at a time and says, “I’m not talking to you two about this!” Then, directed at Ben he asks, “Are you done with the damn camera? I don’t want to be here all night, should have just gotten a disposable one at the drugstore!”

To Diego’s relief, Ben holds out a small bag and he grabs it, says his very swift goodbyes, and leaves in a hurry.

They leave, as planned, in the early morning and at first Lila is grumpy and Diego starts doubting himself for suggesting the trip. He’d hoped that beyond getting some nice photos, he could offer Lila a bit of a reprieve from the stress of the past weeks, but once they’ve stopped off to get some coffee and donuts, to his relief, her mood markedly improves.

It’s stupid, but after what Klaus and Ben said to him, Diego can’t help watching her intently to see whether they might actually be right. But all he achieves is to get distracted from watching the road when he keeps looking over to see Lila, feet up on the dashboard, donut in one hand and take-away coffee in the other, singing loudly and badly along to the radio.

Despite the good forecast for the weather, the sun hasn’t managed to come out through the clouds yet, but, Diego thinks maybe a little overly poetically, he’d hardly notice with the way Lila seems to brighten up the inside of the car with her huge toothy grin as she looks over at him while still chewing on her donut.

“What? D’you not like my singing?” Lila asks him with a challenging sparkle in her eyes and Diego turns back to look at the road because he’s starting to worry that he might just be openly mooning over her.

“Why wouldn’t I like your singing, seeing as you’re so good at it?” he responds sarcastically.

“Fuck off!” Lila says, laughing lightly and punching him playfully in the arm with her donut hand, transferring a little of the powdered sugar onto his shirt.

“You’re in a good mood,” Diego points out. He doesn’t mind that, of course, in fact he’s endlessly relieved, but it does come as a bit of a surprise after the last few weeks in which she seemed to be on quite the emotional rollercoaster.

“We’re going to the beach! You have to be in a good mood when you go to the beach, Diego, it’s the law!” Lila explains seriously and Diego makes the mistake of looking over at her again and his heart skips a beat at the way she’s looking at him.

Klaus’s words ring in his ear, but once more he can’t figure her out. It’s just as likely that she simply genuinely likes going to the beach and is excited about it.

When they get to the shore Diego gets so distracted by all the attractions and all the different activities they get up to that he almost starts to feel like they’re on an actual date.

They take a walk along the water, joking and chatting in a way they haven’t in weeks, Lila taking off her shoes and pulling up the skirt of her dress so she can wade in all the way to her knees. Diego’s impressed as he just puts his hand in the shallow waves once to gage the temperature and decides that he has absolutely no interest in getting any other part of his body wet.

They have about twenty pictures left on the film, so they make sure to get as many different photos as possible so they can claim their honeymoon was a couple of days long, rather than just a single day trip. They have lunch on the terrace of a small seafood restaurant and then head back to Diego’s car to change into a different set of clothes and wander along the fair on either side of the promenade.

One stall offers knife throwing for prizes and Lila gets Diego to take part. He’s surprisingly good at it and lets Lila choose a prize and instead of taking one of the huge stuffed toys she picks a cheap-looking bracelet made up of wooden beads on a string and Diego can’t help but think that it really does look pretty cute on her.

As the day turns into late afternoon he buys them ice cream to take along their walk down the pier and Diego doesn’t miss the way something flashes across Lila’s expression when he hands her her cone and then turns back to the vendor and asks for a receipt for their immigration file. He has no idea what to make of it, though.

“There’s a place near London called Brighton,” Lila begins telling him as they almost reach the end of the pier, “it has this huge, gaudy pier and when I was at school they took us there on a day trip. I really didn’t like it, but then they also took us by boat to this other pier that was derelict and damaged by storms and you couldn’t get to it without a boat anymore and I much preferred that one, even though there was nothing really there anymore, except for the ruins of a victorian building.” Lila leans over the ornate, wrought iron railing and looks out at the water. “And then, when I was in my teens there was this massive fire and a couple of friends and I we bunked off school and took a train down to Brighton to take a look. We could still see smoke coming off it even the day after and there was this sooty smell on the beach and I don’t know why but I actually teared up. And I can’t quite explain it, but it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!”

Lila turns to look at him then, and her huge brown eyes are so full of emotion that Diego finds it hard to look at her and simultaneously can’t tear his eyes away.

Lila blinks rapidly and then turns back to look out at the sea and the slowly setting sun and says in a low voice, “Don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

On some instinct Diego pulls out the camera and takes a picture of her in profile. They’ve been purposely only taking pictures of the two of them together, on occasion asking strangers and then wrapping an arm around each other, or Lila would put her hand in the crook of his elbow, because a photo of them individually will offer nothing in the way of evidence for the visa process.

Having heard the shutter release go off, Lila looks at him again and asks, “What’d you take a picture of?”

Diego looks down at where he’s winding the little wheel to the next picture on the film with his thumb and says quietly, “One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

Lila doesn’t respond and when he does muster the nerve to raise his eyes up to meet hers, there’s suddenly a charge between them that feels like it might set the damp sea air on fire. He’s just about to say something, anything really, when a slightly nasal voice coming from somewhere off to the side chimes in with a midwestern twang, “Hey mister, would you like me to take a photo of you and the lovely missus?”

They both look around abruptly to see a small woman with a kind, round face look at them expectantly.

“Uh…” Diego begins, taking a moment to find himself back in the real world, “Yeah, thanks, that’d be nice!”

He hands the camera to the woman and she takes a few steps back to get them in frame and calls out, “Smile!” and he hears the camera click before he’s even managed to follow her instructions. He’s in the middle of wondering about just how dumb he probably looks in the photo when the woman looks over the top of the camera and asks, “One more?” to which Lila says “Yes!” with determination and then grips his shirt with both hands and Diego turns just in time for Lila to press her lips to his and that’s when all coherent thoughts get swept out of his mind like sand along a beach.

“Aw, how wonderful!” Diego hears the woman call out and only realizes that he’s closed his eyes and pulled Lila hard against himself when she puts a couple of inches between them, but doesn’t quite let go of him at the interruption, “Got the sunset in and everything! Here’s your camera.”

Diego lets go of Lila with one hand and she slides back onto her feet, a tiny selfish part of Diego’s brain notes that it almost seemed like she was a little reluctant, and he takes the offered camera.

He puts it back in the bag and then startles when Lila wraps her arms around his waist and presses her face into his chest, hugging him tightly.

A little uncertainly, Diego puts his arms around her and hugs her back, then leans his head down and whispers into her ear, “What’s that for?”

She mumbles against his chest, but he’s close enough to hear her, “Just don’t think I’ve really thanked you enough for what you’re doing for me!”

There are so many things he’d like to respond with but they all seem to either not say enough or far too much about how he feels in that moment, so instead, Diego tightens his grip on her and buries his face in her hair and just holds on until Lila starts pulling away.

The drive back to the city is a lot more sombre compared to the giddy energy that Lila had created in the car on their way to the beach. Diego looks over at her periodically, but for most of the time she’s just quietly staring out of the window at the scenery whizzing by in the half light of dusk. It’s a beautiful view, he can’t blame her, but he feels almost like she’s trying to avoid conversation with him. So not sure what he would even talk about, Diego leaves her to it and spends his time making up his mind that once she has her green card and is no longer reliant on their continued charade, he owes it to himself, but maybe even the two of them, to tell her how he feels.

There’s a definite shift in the way they live together after their beach trip. They never actually discuss it, but Diego makes an effort to not work until late in the evening, and it seems Lila hardly ever has any plans with friends at night, and so they spend the weeks leading up to their immigration interview cooking and having dinner together, often using the time to get to know each other as best they can and compare notes on all the relevant answers to the questions Rodriguez and his wife wrote down for them. Other times they’ll put on a movie and make popcorn and spend a quiet evening on the couch together.

It’s both perfect and absolute bliss and at the same time it nearly tears Diego apart. Because every time they sit together on the couch, separated only by the fucking bowl of popcorn that they both very strenuously take turns to put their hand in, he has to physically restrain himself from simply shoving the stupid bowl to the floor and launching himself at Lila.

It’s slowly driving him insane.

On the day of their interview they are both quite nervous and when the USCIS agent separates them and puts them in different offices, Diego can’t stop fidgeting even when the interviewer promptly comes back in to talk to him.

He needn’t have worried. They’d done a good job at preparing for the interview and between all of the photos and receipts (some of them legit others maybe slightly less so), there are no holes that anyone could poke in the story they’d created.

He is somewhat thrown, though, when the agent asks him whether he loves his wife, that wasn’t a question that Rodriguez had mentioned, but it strikes him that it’s the one question that he can answer most honestly, so he tells her that he loves Lila with all of his heart and at this point couldn’t imagine living without her, and the agent just makes a note on her notepad and then thanks him for his time.

He’s waiting in the foyer when Lila comes out looking a little flustered and Diego’s heart sinks in disappointment as he concludes she must not have gotten her green card.

“You ok?” he asks tentatively as she gets to him and Lila gives him a glassy eyed look and says slightly absentmindedly, “Yeah, course!”

Confused by her answer, Diego tries again and asks, “How’d it go?”

Lila seems just as confused when she answers, “Uh, yeah, fine!”

Feeling like there’s a misunderstanding somewhere in their conversation Diego asks head on, though he feels like he’s being insensitive, “So, d’you get the visa?”

“What?” Lila asks distractedly, then adds, looking more harassed than he’s ever seen her “Oh that, yeah, yeah, of course I did. Uhm, can we just go home?”

He’s absolutely thrown by that. He would have expected her to be significantly more excited, considering the amount of work she put in, but he thinks maybe it’s just the adrenaline wearing off, so he follows her wordlessly out of the building and back to the car.

When they get back to the apartment, Diego’s just in the middle of taking off his boots, when Lila twists around to look at him and then rushes out, almost as if she’s been holding the question in for hours, “Diego, are you in love with me?”

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #fanfic #ongoing fanfic

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bee-kathony · 4 years

Photo

Brick by Brick

- I’ve had a lot of feelings and emotions this past week, and I didn’t know how to get them out. I haven’t written in quite some time, but it’s always been an outlet for me, so I’ve written this little piece to express those feelings I don’t know what to do with. I don’t even care if no one reads this, I needed to write it. Enjoy if you do xx.

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

She loved him.

She hadn’t spoken to him in six years.

But she loved him.

++++++

Could you love someone that you had never kissed? Had never held hands with, or spoken your deepest fears to? Was it possible to feel a connection to someone that probably hadn’t thought of you since high school?

Emily’s stomach sank as she saw the post on instagram. Her finger froze, as well as her heart. He proposed. To her. Jacob proposed to his girlfriend, Savannah. This shouldn’t come as a shock, considering the two had been dating all throughout college. But it still stung. The realization that he was now off limits. He could never be her maybe one day guy of her dreams. He belonged to her, and Emily would have to come to terms with that.

Jacob wasn’t her ex-boyfriend or anything. He had been her classmate. Her friend that she talked to about homework or Church. She’d been to his house for birthday parties and had sat next to him two band camps in a row. So why did she feel like her heart had been shattered into a million pieces?

A single tear fell onto on screen, and she wiped it away with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Stop crying, you idiot,” she whispered as her vision became foggy with tears she felt were wasted.

It’s not like she could talk about this with her friends. They would think she was crazy for still having a crush on Jacob after all these years. School crushes were always forgotten once you left the four walls you’d practically grown up in. Well, they were supposed to be forgotten.

But Jacob was different. Emily would always remember the first time she saw him. They were twelve.

It was a hot August day just a week before school was back in session. The middle school band came together after two long months away. Most kids wouldn’t have picked up their instruments, and the sounds in that room would be a cacophony that would make anyone’s ears bleed. One of the few kids that had actually practiced, was Emily. She loved music, and more than anything, she loved her brand new golden saxophone.

She proudly unzipped her new case, and smiled at her distorted reflection. Her parents had bought her a new saxophone for her birthday over the summer, and she had been waiting for this very moment to show it off.

“Oh, nice,” one of the boys in her row said, pointing at her case.

“Thanks,” Emily said shyly and began to put her instrument together.

As much as Emily loved band, the one thing she didn’t like was that she was one of two girls in the saxophone section. I guess most girls wanted to play the flute or clarinet, but Emily had loved jazz since she was a baby.

The room was buzzing with young high pitched voices talking about their summers. Emily sat next to Brianna, a new girl who also played saxophone. The two of them didn’t speak much, as they were both shy, but Emily was okay with that. The seat next to her was still empty, and she was also okay with that.

Just as Emily clipped her neck strap onto her saxophone, a tall dark haired boy came and sat next to her, his face red as if he had been running.

“Hey, Jacob!” A boy in the row ahead turned around and high fived him.

Emily knew who Jacob was. But she’d never had any classes with him, and she’d never been in talking distance to him until this very moment.

At the young age of twelve, Emily’s heart skipped a beat as she glanced over at this gangly boy with braces. It was in that moment, that she had developed her first real crush. And it would only grow stronger over the next week as the boy chose to sit next to her every day and make her laugh.

++++++

It was these innocent times that Emily thought of often. As well as that one message she had sent him just three years ago on Facebook.

Hey, Jacob. I know it’s been awhile. You popped into my head, and I was thinking of you. Hope you’re doing alright and your family is healthy!

In reality, it was a nice message, but she felt so stupid to even be sending it in the first place. But he answered.

Hey, Emily! It’s good to hear from you. I was just thinking about you the other day. I’m doing pretty good. Hope you are too!

And that was it.

It was simple. And not exactly a conversation, but it was something to cling to in the coming years.

++++++

She had never known love. The love of parents and close friends, yes. But true, earth shattering, world stopping love? It was only the stuff of her dreams. It was something that happened in movies and other people, but never to her.

So how could she say that she loved Jacob if she had never experienced love? Deep down, Emily knew it was just chemicals in her brain and memories she viewed with rose colored glasses… but it still hurt.

In a way, it was as if her childhood was really ending. The innocence she had been hanging onto by a single thread, cut, broken, frayed just like that. One picture and it sent her crashing down down down.

Jacob had found the love of his life, and it wasn’t her.

++++++

Throughout high school, Emily watched as her friends had boyfriends and girlfriends. They never lasted long, and the vast majority broke up before or during college. But it was an experience she always felt left out of.

She knew it was her own fault. The walls of her heart had been closed off for as long as she could remember. Nothing traumatic had happened; she had no wounds or scars that she didn’t want to open. Being unavailable was comfortable. It was safe. But it was so lonely.

Even in college, Emily had been closed off. She had tried to put herself out there. There was a guy she was interested in and she had even told him, but he rejected her. He thought of her as a friend, but nothing more. So Emily’s wall went up more, brick by brick. Ivy began to grow in all the crevices until no light shined through. She was alone with her thoughts, and she was okay with that.

But her thoughts reminded her of those times when Jacob made her laugh so hard she snorted. When he would turn to her in class and ask for help with the homework, or when he would tease her about her new haircut. It was in the looks and the laughs that she secretly fell for him.

++++++

Months passed, and Emily forgot about that Instagram picture. She finished her degree, and moved back home. She tried to get a job and move forward with her life. And then 2020 happened and ruined everyone’s plans.

Weddings were postponed, people were laid off, and Emily’s wall grew higher and higher, making it almost impossible to escape from.

Her heart flipped as she saw his face on her screen. Jacob was supposed to get married today. May 23rd, 2020. But of course, there was a pandemic happening, so it was pushed to August.

Time went by in a blur, as the world changed around her. People came together, and then apart. With every passing day, her wall grew higher and deeper.

Finally, August 22nd, 2020. She had nearly forgotten the day. But a quick scroll showed her that their wedding was indeed taking place. Savannah looked beautiful, and Jacob looked handsome. They looked really, terribly happy together.

Maybe if Emily’s parents hadn’t moved after she left high school, or if she hadn’t gone to college on the other side of the world. Maybe things would be different now. If she had spoken up when she had feelings for him. As she sat back and watched the world pass her by. Maybe she would be different now.

It was another day of waking up alone. Another day of feeling like a failure. Another day of looking at the wall she had built herself and wondering if there was a way out.

Jacob had his happily every after.

Would it ever be Emily’s turn? Would she be brave enough to let the daylight in and the bricks crumble?

#personal

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