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larrydempsey · 7 months

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“But I’m Feeling Much Better Now, Conclusion”

After I graduated from high school, Tom taught me how to drive. Unlike every other teenager in the universe, I had no interest in getting behind the wheel of a car when I was going to school. I wanted my uncle (my mom’s brother) to teach me how, since he was a part-time driving instructor, but Tom said there was no way anyone else was going to teach me. Using Tom’s two-door, silver stick-shift Honda hatchback (which later became my car), I learned to drive in industrial parks, empty parking lots, and on dirt roads outside of town. It wasn’t fun – either the driving or having to spend more time with Tom – but at least I made it through him trying to teach me something without crying, like I did when I was younger. That’s progress. The main reason Tom wanted to teach me how to drive was so I would be able to drive to work. I strongly suspected he wanted me to get a job and move away from home as soon as possible so he wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.

I went out looking for jobs where I thought I could make use of my creative skills, places like newspapers, print shops, photo studios, and videographers. I took examples of my artwork with me to show them what I could do. But it was pointless. While they considered me “good,” I wasn’t good enough. It didn’t help that I didn’t have any real experience or a college degree. It was naive of me to think I could get a decent job right out of high school. They took my résumé (such as it was), but I never heard back from any of them.

Since I couldn’t find a “real” job, Tom put me to work on two projects he had going on around town (not that I had a choice). The first was helping out on the new house that he was having built for his parents, who were moving up from Oregon so they could live near us. Some of my duties included tidying up the worksite, like sweeping inside the house and picking up stray nails and boards outside. I also spent days spreading multiple coats of tar sealant on the exterior of the concrete foundation with a paint roller at the end of a long stick. One afternoon, on the drive home from picking me up, Tom asked me how I liked working on the house. I don’t remember what I said specifically, only that it wasn’t too enthusiastic. Tom got angry and confused, wondering why I wasn't thrilled with my new job. He said, “You don’t seem too excited.” I thought to myself, “Excited? I spend all day working with stuff that smells worse than shit. If I got any more excited, I’d fall into a coma.” After that, Tom got me a job working at the first Super 1 grocery store when it was being built, since he was the architect for it and had an “in” with the owner. At the time I was hired, the store was still an enormous concrete shell, big and (mostly) empty, with random metal shelving, refrigeration equipment, and mountains of cardboard, clear plastic, and styrofoam packing material scattered everywhere. It felt like a huge, dark airplane hanger. I was assigned to crawl around on my hands and knees on a concrete floor all day wearing hard plastic knee pads and dragging a shop vac behind me, cleaning and vacuuming inside the bases of hundreds of shelving units. Just like working on Tom’s parent's house, this job was hot as hell as well, with sweat dripping off my face as I breathed in dust from drywall and fought back nausea. I’m convinced Tom intentionally found me the crappiest jobs he could find just to torture me.

I remember the last place Tom, my mom, my sister, and I went together as a family (well, the four of us together, that is). We went to the Silverwood theme park, which had just opened for the first time a couple months earlier. I had no interest in seeing it, but Tom wanted to, as it was the big new thing in town at the time. Right before we left home, Tom and I got into a huge argument (over something about which I have no idea, but knowing me, I probably didn’t want to go – or go anywhere with him). I think Mom and my sister were already in the car in the garage, waiting for the two of us to come out. I wanted to tell Mom about the argument when I got in the car, but I couldn’t since she was one of “the parents.” But I felt things shift that day. It was the first time I saw Mom separately from Tom. They were no longer one unit; this formidable force of the two of them ganged up on me. Instead, I saw Tom as my adversary and Mom as someone with whom I would soon be able to confide. There was hardly anything at Silverwood in its early days. There was the train (which people could use to ride around the perimeter of the park) and a few rides and shops. I remember riding on the train, sitting in my seat (comfortably far from Tom, naturally), not enjoying it or paying attention to where I was or what was going on. Mom asked what was wrong, but I didn’t want to say anything, at least not at that point, so I kept it to myself. All I could do was sit there and think about that big argument I had with Tom and how I could possibly endure living with him for much longer. Tom and I were seriously becoming enemies.

Tom went out with some friends late one night. He came home around 2:30 in the morning. Mom and Tom immediately got into an argument over why he was coming home so late, where he was, and who he was with. During the argument, he burst into my bedroom and demanded to know what was going on and why Mom was so worked up. Piss off, buddy. You’re not getting any help from me. Mom later found out that Tom had been out dancing with a woman he’d recently met, a woman with whom he’d been spending a lot of time and getting a little too closely acquainted (FORESHADOWING!). Things quickly started to deteriorate after that. The tension was constant, and arguments erupted almost every day. The end was near and inevitable.

After a brief and explosive argument between Tom and Mom one night, Mom threw a large calculator at him (the only thing within arm’s reach), and Tom made a mad dash for the back door. The sight of him jumping in the car and screeching out of the garage, like the coward he was, is still one of my favorite memories (too bad about the calculator, though; it never quite worked the same after that). Tom returned not long after, but not for very long. Near the end of summer and two days before my mom’s birthday, Tom left us for good. My mom, my sister, and I were watching TV in the living room. Tom was sitting at the table in the dining room, working on who knows what. Without warning, he quietly got up from the table, walked out to the garage, got in the car, and left. We heard him leave, but we didn’t think anything of it at the time – at least not until he didn't come home that night. When Tom eventually came back a few days later to pick up some clothes and a few other things to bring to the hotel at which he’d been staying, he told my mom that when he heard us laughing at the TV, he felt like he “didn't belong.” Apparently, the sound of the three of us enjoying whatever show we were watching was the final straw that convinced him we were no longer a family (if we ever really were one). Tom filed for divorce shortly after.

When the news was going around that my parents were going to get a divorce, my mom’s longtime best friend (who she’d known since first grade) called Tom and invited him to go fishing with her and her husband. Read that again if you need to. I’ll wait.

Not long after my parents separated, Mom went to visit Tom while he was working on his parents’ new house. She asked him if there was any way he would consider coming back and working things out. Tom turned her down. To this, Mom replied, “It’s a good thing you said that, or the kids would have left.” It’s not that she actually wanted him back, but she thought she’d ask, just to see what his response would be. Tom added that his reason for not wanting to get back together was that he and Mom “didn’t click.”

With Tom gone, we needed money coming in. Any potential child support was a long way off (but only for my sister since I’d turned 18 earlier that spring). So after abandoning my delusions of finding a job doing something I liked or was good at, I took whatever I could get. Mom and I found temporary employment at a computer keyboard plant doing mind-numbing assembly line work. That lasted for about a month. After that was over, Mom landed the first in a long line of jobs in retail, while my career path quickly led me to the first of an endless string of janitor jobs. Everything I was capable of doing, all my “gifts” and “talents,” were useless. The only jobs I could get were cleaning toilets.

Whenever Tom came over to the house to discuss the divorce, at some point he’d get pissed off and storm out. Every time. He’d get up, stomp across the living room, and then dart out the front door, slamming the door behind him. Every meeting ended the same way, except for one night. On that night, I jumped up and made it to the door before he did. As he reached for the doorknob, I grabbed him by the front of his coat with both hands and threw him down into the nearest chair. He was scared out of his mind, which I could tell from the look of horror on his face, his eyes bulging and his bottom lip trembling. That was the first time I ever stood up to him. He never tried storming out again. Tom later accused my mom of turning my sister and me against him. Sorry, dude. She didn’t have to turn us against you. We never liked you in the first place. We were glad you left. Sure, we would be worse off financially, but we would be far better off without you around. During the divorce trial, Tom was on the stand, and Mom’s lawyer asked Tom when my birthday was. It seems like a simple enough question, right? A father should know his children’s birthdays. After hemming and hawing, obviously having trouble remembering when I was born, he finally said a date – but it was the wrong one. We had to move out of our second house after the divorce. We were forced to sell it so Tom could get his half of the money. We sold all but a quarter acre of our land, took our half of the money, and built a new house on it (that was our third house, for those keeping track).

Not long into Tom’s second marriage (married to the woman with whom he was out dancing before he divorced my mom), my sister and I received a long letter from his new wife, going on and on about how great a man he was, how downhearted he felt about his children ignoring him, and demanding that we treat him better. Sorry. No sympathy here. He treated us like crap, and he’s the victim? I thought, “Give it time. You’ll find out what he's really like.”

Tom bought me a computer drawing program one Christmas, probably trying to impress his new wife by pretending he was a good father. I told him I already had that program. Three months later, he mailed me the receipt so I could take it back. The receipt was my birthday present.

Tom came into our new house once, and only once. I was home alone one afternoon. Mom must have been at work. I don’t know where my sister was – either at work or school, probably. The doorbell rang, and I answered the door. I couldn’t believe who I saw standing on the other side of it. I should have just slammed the door, but, being the polite guy (and wimp) that I am, I let him in. He wanted me to sign a birthday card for his father. Trying to choke back fake tears, Tom said he thought his father wasn’t going to be around much longer (which was a complete exaggeration; his father was fine; he lived for many more years). He asked me if I could also draw a little something, too, so I did a ballpoint pen drawing of Superman on the left-hand side of the inside of the card. I’m assuming his birthday card request was just an excuse to see the inside of our new house.

Tom wanted to pay to send both my sister and me to college, even after the divorce. Sounds good, right? Who would turn that down? Me, for one. Accepting his offer meant him buying his way into my life again. First, it would mean he thought he could see me or talk to me whenever he wanted to. Second, he would hold it over me. If and when I ever made something of myself, he’d want to take credit for my success since he was the one who paid for my education. Sorry. Not interested. We finally got rid of that asshole. I didn’t want him back in our lives. My sister accepted his offer, though, and went to college on his dime a few years later, after she moved to Seattle. Mom encouraged both of us to take Tom for as much as we could. While I can see that point of view and I can see why my sister did it, I couldn't do the same. In my opinion, the bad outweighed the good. And yes, because my sister accepted Tom’s money, she had to talk to him on the phone and visit with him in person whenever he wanted.

Tom’s second marriage lasted about ten years. But shockingly, its demise wasn’t due to anything Tom had done (well, not entirely). It turns out his new wife and her son had been stealing money from his parents. Pity. I thought she was the one.

About a year or so after Tom’s second divorce, Mom and I went out to eat at Pizza Hut one night. Tom came in with a young girl (no older than her 20s or 30s, compared to him in his late 50s). When I went up to the salad bar, Tom got up and came over to talk to me. I told him I had recently done some published comic book work (me, having recently had some success in the artistic field and something to brag about). He said he wanted a copy. I agreed to give him one, just so I could get away from him. Later, as Mom and I were leaving, I stopped at the table where Tom was sitting on the same side of the booth as the girl. I told him, “You’re getting them younger all the time, aren’t you?” He smiled and laughed, assuming I had said something funny, not realizing what I’d actually said. But once he finally achieved comprehension, his eyebrows dropped, and his smile quickly faded. Next, I asked, “How do you live with yourself?” I walked away from the table and headed toward the door. When I reached the door, I turned around, and there he was, standing right behind me, looking super pissed. I got right in his face and said, “Sit the fuck down.” I turned around and walked out the door without looking back. That was the second time I ever stood up to him and the first time I ever cussed at him. It felt great. The next time I saw Tom was at my grandmother’s funeral (my mom’s mother’s). He was all chummy-chummy with me, either forgetting what had happened at Pizza Hut or pretending it didn’t happen. My other grandmother (Tom’s mother) was also there. She came up to me, sobbing, wondering why I never visited them, even though we live in the same town. The reason I never visited is because I hated her and her husband almost as much as I hated Tom. Besides not liking them personally, why would I want anything to do with the two people who spawned the devil, who was my father? I told her I’d visit, completely lying through my teeth. The last time I saw Tom was across a grocery store parking lot late one evening. He was with his fifth wife (you read that right: fifth). He kept waving at me, trying to get me to come over to talk to him. I kept ignoring him, pretending I didn’t see or hear him. He eventually gave up and entered the store.

I still remember where I was when I heard that Tom had died. I was picking Mom up from work, and she told me the news after she got in the car (she heard the news from her brother, who called her earlier in the day). I couldn’t have been happier. Giddy is too small a word. My first thought was that I wanted to know where he was going to be buried so I could go pee on his grave. We found out later that it’s in another state, so I haven’t gone there yet. But I look forward to it.

Tom, along with my bullies and my teachers, seriously screwed me up. If it weren't for them, I wouldn’t be enjoying the anxiety, depression, obesity, OCD, PTSD, low self-esteem, and poor self-image issues from which I suffer every day. Who knows how much happier I could have been and how much further I could have gotten in life if they had simply left me alone? Regardless, I’m working really hard to like myself now, to enjoy my own company, and to not put myself down so much in an effort to undo some of the damage they did to me. It's not easy. And it’s been a long,8slow process. But I’m trying. Wish me luck.

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falcqns · 3 years

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Free Fall

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry meets your parents for the first time, and custody issues arise.

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight family drama, slight daddy issues, Lav being cute as always

A/N: Just me channeling my own problems into my writing as an emotional outlet lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7

You heard the alarm go off, but groaned and rolled over, attempting to smother the sounds with your pillow. You heard Henry chuckle, and roll out of bed, before walking out of the room.

He poked his head into Lavender’s room, where she was safe and asleep, so he continued his journey down the stairs. He turned the coffee machine on, and grabbed two travel mugs.

Today, you and him would be heading to your home town, and he’d be meeting your family. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He was absolutely terrified. He was terrified that they wouldn’t like him, or that they would think he’s not a good father to Lavender.

He also nervous because he knew Lavender’s birth father lived in the same town, and he honestly didn’t know what he would do if he came face to face with that asshole.

He had just finished making both your coffee’s, when he hears Lavender wake up over the baby monitor. He headed to her room, peaking his inside his to check on you, who was still sleeping.

Lavender stopped crying when Henry came in to her line of sight, and watched him intently as he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. He changed her diaper quickly, and got her dressed, before taking her down stairs. He placed her into the high chair, and tilted it back gently so it supported her back and head. She had gotten better at holding up her own head, but Henry didn’t want to take any chances. She cooed and watched as he moved around the kitchen, getting everything ready for the road trip.

She blew a raspberry, and Henry turned around. “What are you doing, boo boo?” He asked her, walking over to press a kiss to her forehead. She let out a giggle, and then began moving her arms around wildly, and squealing. Henry smiled and unbuckled her, picking her up. “Mama is still sleeping, and Dada doesn’t want to wake her up yet. We have to be quiet.” He whispered, and he got a huge smiled in return, before Lavender laid her head on his shoulder.

Henry continued what he was doing, until Lavender let out a cry, signalling that she was hungry. Henry smushed her, but began prepping a bottle for her before walking into the living room with her, and sitting down to feed her. He gazed down at her as she happily ate her breakfast. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” He said. She gazed up at him in a way that almost made him believe that she understood what he was saying. “i’m gonna take care of you the way a father should. I don’t care that you’re biologically not mine, you’re my baby girl, and that’s all that matters,” He whispered, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He watched as her eyes drifted shut.

You came down the stairs a few minutes later with all the pre-packed bags, and smiled at Henry who was holding Lavender.

“I didn’t hear her wake up,” You said, and Henry chuckled as he stood up.

“She woke up about an hour ago, but you were still sleeping so I got her. She’s eaten, and everything is ready to go,” He said. You nodded as you took a sip of your coffee. “Okay, thank you.” You said, and Henry walked over to you to give you a kiss.

“I’ll load the car up, if you get her in her car seat,” Henry suggested, passing Lavender to you. You took your daughter, and cradled her against your chest. She opened her eyes, and looked up at you. “We’re you being good for Dada?” You asked her, and she cooed in response.

A few minutes later, Lavender was secure in her car seat, and the car was packed. Henry carried the car seat to the car, and you climbed into the passengers seat, Kal following to lay on your feet. Henry got in the drivers seat, and the four of you were off. The drive went fairly well, with Lavender sleeping the majority of the time, in between feedings, where you would have to get in the back to help feed her.

You arrived at your parents house just before midnight, and both were relieved when you could see lights on, signifying that your family was still awake. Sneaking into your childhood home with a baby and dog didn’t seem like the most enjoyable thing.

You took Lavender and Kal, while Henry took the bags out.

“Y/N!” Your mom said, opening the door for you. “Hey, mom,” You said as you gave her a hug. Your dad came up and gave you one as well, before taking the car seat from you. Kal looked up at you for permission to follow Lavender, and you nodded, before he scurried off to protect his sister. You stepped away from the door to allow Henry through with the bags, which you took from him while he met your mom.

“You must be Henry!” Your mom said, pulling him into her arms for a hug. You giggled as Henry returned her hug.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.” He said, and your mom instantly corrected him.

“Please, call me Y/M/N.”

They continued to talk, and you decided to get Lavender out of her seat, as she was looking quite done with being strapped in. You freed her, and she immediately cooed in happiness before snuggling into your chest. You glanced over at Henry, who was talking to your dad about football, and took a seat on the couch. Your mom came over, and took her from you so she could have some cuddles, and you took that opportunity to take the bags to your old bedroom. When you walked in, you smiled as you saw your parents had set up your crib that you had used for Lavender to sleep in.

Henry came in a while later, and helped you unpack the bags, and get everything ready for Lavender to go to sleep. You heard her crying from the living room, and Henry immediately went to her aid. He re-entered the bedroom with her in his arms moments later, and she was handed to you. “She’s hungry, I think. She wasn’t wet or anything.”

“Okay,” You said, and freed your breast to feed her. She latched on, and you sat down against the headboard. Henry watched you out of the corner of his eye as he moved about the room, getting ready for bed. He joined you moments later, and a kiss was pressed to your cheek before he did the same to Lavenders.

“Are you nervous to meet the rest of my family tomorrow?” You questioned Henry, and he gave you a small smile.

“No. I am nervous that I’m going to run into her birth father though. I don’t know how I would be able to stop myself from hurting him.” He admitted, and you grabbed his hand with your free one.

“Don’t worry about him. He won’t hurt us, okay?” You promised, and Henry smiled before laying his head on your shoulder and drifting off to sleep with his eyes locked on his little girl. She was safe.

But, he should have known that wasn’t true. The next morning, your parents had asked you to go on a grocery store run, and the three of you decided to go. Henry was pushing the cart, Lavender was enjoying her new surroundings in her car seat, while you were consulting the list, and putting things in the cart. Henry gazed around at the people also shopping, almost searching for your ex. He realized he shouldn’t be so suspicious, and focused on Lavender again, who was looking at the different coloured fruits and vegetables, her fingers being sucked on in her mouth.

The three of you made your way to the snack aisle, and that’s when it happened. Henry heard what sounded like a curse word come out your mouth just as a man, no older than 25 entered the same aisle as you. He locked eyes with you, and Henry watched as he approached you. Henry looked at you, and he instantly knew who it was.

Lavenders father.

Henry immediately moved the cart so Lavender couldn’t be seen, and stood in between the cart and you, so you were within reaching distance.

“Hey, Y/N.” He said. You rolled your eyes, but turned to face your ex.

“What do you want, Y/E/N?” You said in an exasperated voice.

“Where’s my daughter?” He asked, and Henry moved the cart behind his back a little more. This made your ex look at him, and notice the back of the car seat peaking out from behind Henry. “Who the hell are you?” He asked in a demanding tone.

“I’m Henry.” He stated plainly. He reached out and pulled you closer to him. You turned your head, and buried your face into his chest. You knew he’d protect you and Lavender; he was Superman after all.

“Why are you near my daughter?” Your ex asked in the same demanding tone. Henry felt the anger bubbling up, and did nothing to stop it.

“She’s not your daughter. She’s mine,” Henry said, in the same villainous tone that he had to use for Walker.

Y/E/N scoffed. “Like hell she is. Unless she was cheating on me with you, and I highly doubt that, there is no way in hell that she is your daughter.”

Henry narrowed his eyes before continuing. “You’re right. Biologically, she is not mine, but that doesn’t matter to me. She is my daughter in every other way. You left Y/N the second she told you she was pregnant. She had to be pregnant alone for 9 months, and then parent completely alone for another 2 because you decided you didn’t want the responsibility. She is my daughter. I stepped up when I didn’t have to, simply because I love her mother, and I love her. You don’t.”

“Well I’m here now. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

Henry laughed. “You have no rights to her. I’m the one waking up at night to take care of her so Y/N can sleep. I’m the one that bathes her, changes her, plays with her, and gives her love and protection. The night I met her, I made a promise to myself that I would protect her and her mother for the rest of my life and that is exactly what I am going to do. She is my daughter in every way that matters.”

Y/E/N narrowed his eyes and took a step towards Henry. Henry immediately moved you behind him, as he was anticipating this getting physical. You moved to your daughter, and pushed the cart to the end of the aisle. “I’ll take you to court.”

Henry felt himself slip into his ‘Walker headspace’ as he called it, before he retaliated. “Good luck with that. See, unlike you, I am an actor. Not just any actor too. I’ve played Superman, Geralt of Rivia, Napoleon Solo, and I am now playing August Walker in Mission Impossible for the second time. And, Y/N told me that you’ve seen Fallout, so you know what Walker can do. I make a hell of a lot more money than you do, and I have a much better legal team than you. Not to mention, these muscles,” He motioned to his upper body. “aren’t just for my looks. They’re useful too.” he got right in your ex’s face, to intimidate him before continuing. “I can beat the shit out of little pussy men who think they can come here and threaten my girlfriend and my daughter. Now get the fuck out of here before I recreate the bathroom scene, right here in the aisle.” Henry finished, and turned to face you but not before your ex opened up his mouth again.

“This isn’t over, Y/N. she’s my daughter, and I WILL take her from you.” Henry’s eyes darkened, and turned around. He raised his fist and punched your ex square in the nose so hard that went flying back down the aisle. He walked and stood over him.

“So help me God, you contact me, Y/N or my daughter in ANY way, I will go all August Walker on your ass. I’m sure Tom Cruise would love to help as well.” He spat in your ex’s face. He turned and saw that you were in tears. He ran up to you and enveloped you in a hug.

“It’s okay. He can’t hurt us.” Henry whispered in your ear, as Henry pushed the cart out of the aisle and towards the checkout. “Here,” he said, handing you his card. “Checkout. I’m going to go let the manager know what happened. I’ll see you in the car.” You nodded, and watched as he approached an employee.

You checked out silently, and headed to the car. Lavender had taken notice of how upset you were, and began bowing raspberries in the hopes of cheering you up, which worked. You loaded her, and then the groceries, into the car, before climbing in and fully breaking down. Henry joined you moments later and you were pulled back into his arms.

“You’re okay. I’m sorry I let my anger get the best of me.” he whispered into your hair. You shook your head.

“That’s not why I’m crying. I-I’m scared he’s going to take her away.” Henry hugged to tighter when he heard your broken voice.

“Not gonna happen. I won’t let anything happen to her.” He promised. You nodded, and pulled away so Henry could drive.

You were still shaken up over what happened when you arrived home, immediately disappearing to your bedroom with Lavender. Henry carried the groceries in the house, and helped your mom put them away.

“Did something happen at the store? Y/N seems upset.” She asked.

“Y/E/N was there and he threatened her with taking Lavender from us. I couldnt let that happen, so I threatened him a little, and ended up punching him in the face.” he winced as he finished talking, unsure of what your moms reaction was going to be.

She turned to him, and gave him a high five. “Thank you. I never liked him.” Henry busted out laughing seconds later.

Henry went out for a run with Kal a few hours later, and your mom came upstairs with some lunch for you. You were laying on the bed, watching a movie on on the TV while Lavender napped in the crib.

“Hey, Henry told me what happened. Are you okay?” She asked, offering you the plate with an egg salad sandwich on it. You took it and nodded.

“Yeah, I am. Just a little shaken up is all.” You said, and she took a seat on the bed.

“Okay. You know, your birth father threatened the same thing many times.” She admitted. Your head shot up to look at your mom.

“Really?”

Your mom nodded, and continued. “Yep. But, your dad never let that happen, and I know Henry won’t. I absolutely hate that you are going through what I did with your father, but we both know Henry is going to protect you and her the same way your dad protected you and I. If he becomes an issue, you can always get a restraining order.” You nodded, and watched as your mom pressed a kiss to your temple before walking out.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” You said, as you ate and watched your daughters chest move up and down rhythmically. She was safe.

A/N Pt 2: I just thought i’d clarify that when i say ‘father’ and ‘dad’ i mean two completely different things. To me, a ‘father’ is the one who is biologically related to the child, and a ‘dad’ is the one who raises the child. Anyone can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a dad.

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry!holmes #fluff #august walker #mission impossible #pregnancy #geralt of rivia #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

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Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 4 | You should worry about the people you care about. I mean, I worry about you all the time.

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly is making friends and life is settling into a routine until Molly gets sick and Tom takes care of her.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

Molly left that afternoon with two new numbers in her phone and a lunch date for next week.

“Can’t believe you are having lunch with my mother and sister without me.” Tom pouted on the way back.

“Once they heard I wasn’t working and didn’t know anyone, they insisted. Was I supposed to say no?”

“You could have scheduled it when I could come.”

“But you are so busy. And talented.” She poked his side.

“I’m driving here, darling.”

“Sorry, but just one question…” They pulled up to a red light.”

“What?”

“Are you ticklish?” she attacked his side and Tom squirmed and giggled.

“You will be the death of me.” He panted as Molly stopped when the light was green.

“Note to self. Tom is very ticklish.”

“No, no notes to self. That is something you can promptly forget.”

Molly batted her eyelashes. “But real husbands and wives would know these things about each other. We have to pull this off for an entire year, right?”

“Fine, but expect revenge.” Tom wagged a finger at Molly.

“I’ll sleep with one eye open.”

Over the next several weeks, Tom and Molly fell in a routine. The marriage certificate came in the mail and they applied for a family visa for Molly to stay there.

“I didn’t think you would want to become a citizen.”

Molly smirked. “No, not right now.”

A new debit card came in for Molly.

“With great power…” Tom handed it over.

“Yeah, yeah, Loki.” she tucked into her wallet. “I am burdened with glorious purpose. To keep you well fed.”

Molly had a standing date with Emma every two weeks, much to Tom’s consternation. They continued running together in the mornings. Tom, more often than not, ended it with a kiss.

“This is becoming quite the nasty habit, Mr. Hiddleston.” she commented one morning.

“Then stop me, Mrs. Hiddleston.” He pecked her lips again.

Molly blushed. “You just love what they are saying about us in the papers.” She pushed Tom away and towards the door.

“I will admit the good news is definitely a perk. Plus, you are such lovely company.” He went to hug her, but she pushed him away.

“You are all sweaty, Tom. Take a shower and I will make breakfast.”

“French toast?” he asked hopefully.

“You ate the last of the bread yesterday.”

“Pancakes?”

“I think I can swing pancakes, if…” She held up a finger. “You also eat a side of fruit.”

“Deal.” Tom headed towards his room wearing a huge grin.

Molly shook her head as she grabbed a mixing bowl out. “Lunatic.”

One morning, Molly wasn’t awake when Tom got up to run. She almost always beat Tom up, sipping a cup of tea in the living room, reading a magazine or one of the books from his shelf. There was a small stack building on a side table of the ones she finished reading. But that morning, no half-drunk cup of tea perched precariously on the coffee table. No crossword puzzle half done in pen.

Tom peaked into Molly’s bedroom. The covers, in colors of navy and grey, just like his, pulled up tight around her. There were a few prints of classic travel posters on the wall.

“Molly, darling.” He called out. Usually that was all it took to roust Molly from her sleep and get her going for the day. Today, nothing. Tom stepped into the room. He felt like an intruder in his own home.

“It’s time for our run, love.” He said a bit louder this time.

Molly rolled over, groaning and coughing. Tom’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that cough. Tom sat down on the edge of the bed and rocked Molly gently by the shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay, darling?” He hoped it was just allergies or waking up in the morning. But then she woke up.

“Uggh, Tom?” Molly croaked out before rolling onto her back. She was pale. So much more pale than usual. She coughed again, covering her mouth.

“It’s me, Molly. Are you feeling alright?” He repeated. “That’s some cough.”

“I’m fine, fine. It’s just,” She waved him off and pushed up to sitting, only to fall back onto the pillows. “oh, that’s not good.”

Tom placed the back of his hand to her forehead and replaced it with his lips, checking her temperature. She was running hot.

“You have a fever. I’m making you an appointment to see the doctor.” He stood, but Molly caught his wrist. Her palm clammy against Tom’s skin.

“No! It’s just a cold. Go on your run. I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.” She insisted.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Tom leaned down and kissed her very warm forehead. “I’ll keep it short. Go back to sleep.”

Molly nodded and rolled over. Tom tucked the covers around her and headed out. He barely made it to the end of the street before he returned home. It confirmed his fears when he stepped back inside and heard Molly coughing. Tom grabbed the phone and searched for a number and called it.

“Yes, Urgent Care? Do you have any appointments today? Name? Molly Hiddleston. Thank you.”

Tom helped Molly get dressed, averting his eyes when appropriate. Her entire body burned under his fingertips, but Tom noticed her shivering. She stumbled to the car where she slept the entire ride over to urgent care. Tom did his best to fill out the paperwork.

“What do you put for family history?”

“Nothing. Unless there is a place for mental illness, then check that. That’s all I know about. Mom didn’t chat much.” Molly muttered, leaning heavily against Tom. “Meth does that…” Her brow furrowed and she coughed again.

“Shh, darling.” Tom soothed her. “Only happy thoughts.”

Molly hummed and smiled. “Happy thoughts.” More coughing.

It took twenty minutes before they called Molly back. They didn’t let Tom back with her. He alternated between sitting with a bouncing knee, pretending to read on his phone and pacing the waiting room, making the other people nervous. After forty-five minutes, before Molly returned with several papers in her hand. She coughed again.

“Upper respiratory infection,” cough. “Along with a sinus infection and a viral infection.”

Tom smiled. “Triple threat. Let’s get you home.”

Molly’s hand, holding the papers, flopped up. “I have prescriptions and they want to see me again in two weeks. To make sure I don’t get pneumonia.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “That’s a possibility?”

Molly nodded. “It’s all in here.”

Tom took all the papers, skimming them, including a script for antibiotics as well as a cough suppressant. It all sounded grim. “Let’s get you to bed and I will take care of getting these filled.”

Molly coughed and nodded. “Thank you.”

She fell back asleep in the car. Tom carried into the house, not having the heart to wake her up again, and settled her into his bed, which was bigger, more comfortable and the bathroom was right there. Once she was settled and asleep, he headed off to the pharmacy. While waiting in line, Tom dialed Luke.

“Luke, is there anything absolutely pressing in the schedule for the next three days?” he asked after Luke picked up.

“Nothing I can’t reschedule, why?”

“Molly’s ill.” He bit his lips and sighed. “The doctors are afraid it might turn into pneumonia. And I…”

“Consider your schedule cleared until Monday. And tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

“Thanks, Luke. I’m worried about her.”

“That’s because you love her, Tom. You should worry about the people you care about. I mean, I worry about you all the time.” Luke chuckled.

Tom paused at Luke’s words but pushed it away. Of course he cared for Molly. That has the tendency to happen when you live with a person for nearly three months. Especially someone as congenial as Molly. Congenial wasn’t the word. Lovely. Molly was lovely. He laughed it off. “I worry about you too, Luke. I got to go.”

“Take care of her. Bye, Tom.”

After picking you the medicine, Tom popped into the grocery store and picked up some soup, drinks, and Molly’s favorite cookies. When he got back, she was still asleep. And still coughing. He put away the groceries and then checked on her.

“Darling, I’m back with the medicine. Time to take it.” He helped her sit up, Molly groaning the entire time. She swallowed the pill with a sip of water, gagging.

“That’s awful!” she coughed.

“Now the cough medicine.” Tom poured out the cough syrup and handed it over to Molly. She hesitated, sniffing it first. “Take the medicine and get a biscuit.” He held up a package of cookies.

“They’re cookies. I thought I ate the last of them.” she moaned, downing the cough syrup. Her face contorted. Tom smiled and handed her two cookies. “Good girl. Now rest. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

“Don’t you have work?” Molly muttered as she laid back down. Tom pulled the covers over her, putting the cookies on the nightstand. “You had… interviews… or something…”

“My schedule is clear through the weekend. I am at your disposal.” Tom rubbed Molly’s back, and she purred.

“You don’t need to do that.” She half-heartedly complained, dozing off.

“And leave you to fend for yourself? What kind of husband would I be? It was no trouble. Now sleep, darling.”

“Mmm… kay.”

Tom busied himself with absolutely nothing. He flitted from reading a book to watching a TV show to peeking into the bedroom. At one point, when Molly was particularly quiet, he seriously contemplated putting a mirror under her nose to just make sure he was still breathing. He managed to get her to eat half a bowl of soup.

“You need to eat, love.” he scolded.

Molly coughed and croaked. “Says the man who considers chocolate a food group.”

“Look at that, some humour.” Tom smiled. “Eat please.”

“Yes, sir.” She slurped the soup off the spoon before falling back asleep.

Tom, worried, did the unthinkable. He called his mum for advice.

“She’s coughing. A lot. And all she does is sleep.” Tom ran his hands through his hair.

“Is she eating, love?” Diana asked. Tom could feel the smile across the phone.

“A bit, but not as much as usual. I brought her soup.”

“Soup is good. And she is taking her medicine?”

Tom nodded. “I set a timer.”

“Of course you did. And the fever?”

Tom blinked. “What about her fever?”

“Has it broken?”

“I don’t—”

“Tom!” Molly’s bedraggled voice called out.

“I gotta go. She needs me.” Tom hung up the phone and sprinted to the room.

“Molly! What is it?” He noted she was shivering.

“I’m cold.” she chattered. Tom grabbed the blanket at the foot of his bed.

“Is that better?” He tucked it under Molly’s chin. Tom touched her forehead. Hot.

“Much.”

“I’ll let you rest.” He patted her shoulder and stood. Molly reached out for him.

“Stay.” She coughed. “At least until I fall asleep. Please lie down. Just five minutes.”

Tom’s heart broke in that moment for Molly. That confident woman he grew so fond of seemed so small in that moment.

“Of course, I’ll stay. Anything for you.” Tom crawled on top of the covers next to Molly. He laced his fingers in hers. He heard her exhaled, and he exhaled too.

“Sleep well, darling.” But Molly had already fallen asleep. Tom soon followed.

Molly woke the next morning in sweat soaked pajamas and on top of drenched sheets. She still coughed, but her fever was gone. As she blinked her eyes open, Molly realized she wasn’t in her bed, but Tom’s. And Tom was there too. Asleep next to her, fully dressed, holding her hand. She had vague memories of Tom bringing her soup and her asking him to stay. And some very not safe for work dreams.

“Fever dreams.” she muttered. “Tom…” Molly rocked his shoulder.

“Huh?” Tom sat up. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“It’s hard to be a nurse. I think your sheets may need washing.” she smiled.

Tom pressed his lips to her forehead. “No fever.” His spirits lifted.

“It must have broken last night.”

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Tom noticed their hands still laced together. He let go and stood up. He made a poor attempt at smoothing out his sleep wrinkled clothes. “Up to move to the couch? And maybe some movies?”

“I would like that.” She slowly sat up and got out of bed. “But first a shower.”

Tom frowned. “First medicine, then shower.”

“Nurse Ratched.” Tom didn’t smile or budge. Molly sighed. “Fine, medicine, the shower.”

Tom grabbed the bottles and dispensed the medicine, which she took still gagging. “And a biscuit.” He handed her a cookie.

“Cookie.” She popped it into her mouth and headed off to her room and Tom went to his own bathroom.

Once they were both showered and dressed, Tom popped his sheets into the laundry and made a makeshift bed on the couch for Molly.

“You pick the movie.” she offered. “That way if I fall asleep, you won’t be bored.”

Tom picked The Jungle Book. “One of my favorites as a child. I still watch it when I feel under the weather.”

“I don’t think I have seen it.”

Tom’s mouth fell open. “That is a travesty.”

Molly shrugged her shoulders. “You know, group homes, foster care…”

Tom stopped. “Well, we are going to watch this right now and you can listen to the vocal genius that is George Sanders as Shere Khan.”

“More of a vocal genius than you?” Molly raised an eyebrow while she settled onto the couch.

Tom blushed. “A man-cub, how delightful.” He purred deep in his chest, sending shivers through Molly.

By the end of the movie, Molly’s head was in Tom’s lap and his hand in hers. They watched Disney movies for the rest of day, alternating picking the title. Tom made sure she took her meds on time and ate more than just cookies.

“I will eat a meal if you do.” Molly chided.

They both ate soup and Tom also ate a sandwich. It was late when they finished up Robin Hood. Molly stretched and sat up.

“I should go to bed.”

“I can put the sheets back on the bed.” Tom moved, but she stopped him, squeezing his hand.

“My bed. But I will keep the door open so you can spy on me.” She smirked. “I can’t take your bed again.”

“It’s fine if you did. I don’t mind sharing.”

“I know but…” She glanced away. “We should keep our own space. To keep things from getting complicated.”

Tom nodded. “Right. No complications here.” he lied to her and to himself.

Molly hugged Tom tight. “Thank you for everything, Tom.”

“My pleasure.”

She coughed a bit as she headed off to her room. Tom turned off the TV and cleaned the dishes before going to bed himself. He spent most of the night tossing and turning.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x ofc #accidently married

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babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

Text

Build-A-Bear

Part Three

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Morgan, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos and implications

Chapter Summary: Reader has dinner with her family and gets grilled even harder than her food. But she’s turned to a light simmer when Bucky takes her out for their first date.

Author’s Note: This chapter is fucking monstrous lol. I did not expect it to be this long so it might be a couple extra days before the next chapter so I can catch up! I’m also not sure if my Italian is accurate so I apologize in advance. I used to work for a man named Gennaro from Naples and he called me “bella” so hopefully I’m sort of right? If you like the story so far, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Part One • Part Two

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

Dinner that night was tense, to say the least. It was nice to have your dad, step-mom, sister, and uncles Happy and Rhodey over again, but your dad wasn’t quick to forget what he saw earlier.

“What was that with Barnes today?” Tony asked as you all sat around the dining room table in your midtown flat, poking away at the remnants of your meals.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

Your dad just gave you an incredulous look. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed and avoided meeting his eyes. “I was just working on his arm, dad. I didn’t wanna make him lie down on a hard lab table while I poked around to do what you wanted and quiet his arm,” you explained.

“Wait, Barnes as in Bucky Barnes?” Uncle Rhodey clarified.

“Yeah,” your dad confirmed, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found her kneeling between his legs while he sat shirtless on the couch.”

“You’re sleeping with Bucky?!” Rhodey asked.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone!” you defended, dropping your fork onto your plate. “I’ve known him for a month.”

“That’s never stopped your father,” Pepper mumbled under her breath, making you huff out a laugh despite your current grilling.

“Listen, when I said ‘no fraternizing with coworkers,’ I meant it,” your dad said.

“Please stop saying ‘fraternizing.’ It’s weird.”

Tony sighed and crossed his arms. “No ‘slumber parties’ with coworkers,” he rephrased.

This made Morgan perk up in her seat, having spent the past couple minutes confusedly watching you and your dad bicker.

“Can we have a slumber party, [Y/N]?” she asked.

“Yes, honey, we can have a slumber party,” you responded.

“Tonight?” she continued.

At this, you pointedly looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows as a way of saying ‘are we done now?’ You could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation, but you were grateful for the sudden change of topic. Tony uncrossed his arms and leaned against the table as he replied to your sister.

“If your big sister says it’s okay, you can have a slumber party tonight.”

Morgan lit up like the Fourth of July, quickly listing off all the movies she wanted to watch even though you knew she’d fall asleep halfway through the first movie.

As your family packed up to leave, leaving Morgan since she had a drawer of clothes for the impromptu sleepovers you’ve had before, you calmed your racing heart before saying the words that would either make your father more suspicious or completely quash his suspicions.

“You’ll have to pick her up by four tomorrow. I have a date.”

All of the adults turned to face you. Pepper had a huge smile on her face, clearly excited for you, but your dad and Rhodey looked ready to fight. Happy looked curious, maybe even worried, but he played a big role in raising you so while Tony was the overprotective parent, Happy was the comforting parent (not that he’d ever let anyone know that).

“A date?” The tone of your dad’s voice made you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to go on dates.”

Your dad let out a quiet harumph at that, but understood where you were coming from. “I know, sweetheart. Forgive me for being a bit overprotective of my little girl.”

“I get it. I appreciate your concern,” you said with a smile, “but this is good for me. You want grandkids eventually, right?”

“Oh god,” your dad groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa but I’m old enough to have a heart attack at the mention of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“So what’s this person’s name?” Pepper piped up. You visibly tensed and internally panicked. You couldn’t just admit it was Bucky after denying anything there. But his name was technically pretty common...

“His name is James.”

Rhodey snapped his fingers and pointed at you as he said, “I like him already.”

‘Yeah, sure you do,’ you thought. The sight of your dad narrowing his eyes at you and crossing his arms as he stood in the entryway of your apartment made you nervous. Maybe James wasn’t good enough to get him off your trail (probably because he was right).

“How did you meet this guy?” Tony asked.

If anyone else had asked, you would’ve said ‘work,’ but that’s the last place you could say to your dad — with whom you worked.

“Uhh, at the grocery store. We accidentally followed each other and got a lot of the same food so he jokingly accused me of stalking him and we just hit it off,” you rattled off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how your friend Monique met her girlfriend or he’d know you were lying.

“That’s so cute,” Pepper cooed. She was definitely the more relaxed of your parents, possibly because she wasn’t your biological mom. She had been raising you since you were ten though, so she played a big part in your upbringing.

“Text me his last name so I can run a background check,” your dad said. You’d love to think he was joking, but you knew he was serious.

And as much as you knew you’d regret it, you had to make a joke…

“His last name is Barnes,” you said, keeping your face as serious as possible. “James Barnes. I actually know his middle name too: Buchanan.”

“[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], you better be joking right now,” Tony said. He was already getting red in the face, clearly unenthused at the prospect of you dating the man who, admittedly, killed his parents — your grandparents. Yeah, understandable.

“I’m obviously kidding,” you said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just funny that they have the same first name and you’re so anti-Bucky.”

“You’re gonna send me to an early grave,” he muttered. “I’m going home before I actually have a heart attack.”

You said your goodbyes and ‘I love you’s before you and Morgan put on your pajamas and set up a pillow fort in the middle of your living room to watch her favorite sleepover movie: “Shrek.”

As the movie went on, you leaned back in the fort to take a photo of Morgan with the movie in the background. Well, the back of Morgan’s head as she was engrossed in the movie she’d seen a million times.

[Image attached] She’s got her teddy bear but where’s my Bucky Bear? 🥺

Across the city, Bucky’s phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen counter as he made himself a late dinner. He didn’t recognize the number, but smiled when he saw the picture of who he assumed was your sister or niece.

I never got an invite. Looks like more fun than my night.

You smiled to yourself when you saw his reply, rolling your eyes at the lack of exclamation points and emojis. Typical man.

What does your night look like?

Eating a late dinner and talking to you.

Talking to me isn’t fun?! I’m hurt 😢

Not as fun as actually being with you.

Even though he wasn’t there and didn’t say it verbally, you could feel your cheeks get hot at his words.

There’s no way sweet talk like that didn’t get you in more than four beds.

You’re still on that? I swear doll, I have the same number as you.

Whatever you say! 🙄

There was a lull in conversation after that, giving you time to move your sister to lie on her back with pillows and blankets in the fort so she could sleep more comfortably.

Are we still going out tomorrow?

You let the next Shrek movie start automatically, but you didn’t pay any attention as you texted Bucky.

I’m still down if you are 👀

You sent him your address and let him know you’d wait on the front steps for him so he didn’t have to come all the way up. With the exchange of ‘good night’ messages, you drifted asleep to the sounds of Shrek 2.

•

The next morning, you somehow managed to wake up before your sister, then brought her back to the land of the living with the smell of French toast.

You spent your day watching another movie with Morgan before fixing lunch and taking her to a park down the road. Morgan’s childhood was definitely different from yours. Happy was the one who took you to parks and shopping, but Tony parented at home. Morgan would have the same early experiences, but the world knew Tony and Pepper had a daughter. They kept her identity hidden for now, waiting until she could decide if she wanted to reveal herself later in life. The world never knew about you.

And you had to be somewhat grateful for that. You still got all the perks of being a Stark — the money, the Tower, meeting the Avengers (and having James Rhodes as your godfather) — without the stress of fame. But part of you still wished you could talk about your father without keeping his occupation vague and referring to him as “Anthony” when telling stories instead of Tony.

Morgan also got to know her mom. You only spent the first seven years of your life with your mom before she was killed in a drive-by shooting. The police investigated it like crazy because everyone thought since it was Tony Stark’s wife, it had to be a targeted hit. But since she never took the same jogging route twice, all they came up with was an unplanned drive-by. You cherished the memories you had with her, but still openly welcomed Pepper when she came into the picture. She may not have played the same type of role in your life, but she helped shape your middle and high school years.

By the time you and Morgan got back to your place, she was exhausted, climbing back into the still-intact blanket fort to take a nap. When your dad and Pepper stopped by to pick her up, she was still knocked out.

“We’ll get out of your hair so you can get ready for your date,” your dad said with Morgan in his arms. “Send me this James guy’s last name. I still want to run a background check.”

“Dad,” you grumbled. “I already did my research. He’s clear.” Kind of. He technically has murdered hundreds of people, including your grandparents, but he’s reformed and fighting for the good guys now. Not that your dad would let it slide if you told him that.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Let me know if you need to hide any bodies, okay?”

“You got it,” you said with a laugh as they headed out. You had two hours to get ready for Bucky, giving you plenty of time to look extra cute.

By the time six rolled around, you were all dolled up and ready to go. The autumn weather had you in a jacket and boots, but that just pulled your outfit together.

Your doorman Matt was standing inside the lobby when you ran downstairs, tossing him a small wave as you left.

“Have a good night, Miss [Y/L/N],” he said with a nod.

“See you later, Matt!”

You stood at the bottom of your building’s front steps, checking your phone and looking up and down the block for Bucky. It was six on the dot, so you figured he’d be there soon.

“Hey!” You looked up from your phone to see Bucky jogging toward you, a black leather jacket covering his arms and a black glove hiding his left hand. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from Sam. Had to tell him I was gonna check out my old stomping grounds in Brooklyn.”

“You’re, like, 30 seconds late. I’m just glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Bucky’s smile faltered as he looked down at you. Your boots gave you a bit of a height bump, but Bucky still stood taller than you.

“I, uh, I kinda thought you had something planned,” he said softly.

“Oh, oops,” you laughed. “Well… what about those Brooklyn stomping grounds of yours? Care to show me around?”

Bucky lit up at the recommendation and started leading the way to the nearest subway stop. Before you started down the stairs, he paused and turned to you with a sour expression.

“I probably should’ve asked if you’d rather get a cab,” he said.

“Bucky, I take the subway to work every day. It’s fine.”

“Why do you take the train? You don’t live too far away.” You two made your way down the steps to the bustling station.

“It’s just easier. Less work for me,” you explained. “I didn’t take the train much as a kid so I like taking the opportunity now that I can.”

“Most people don’t willingly take the subway,” he laughed. “Steve and I always used to talk about how we’d be rich enough to have a car someday. But now that I could get any car I wanted, I don’t think I want one. I like the subway.”

“Even though it’s smelly and dirty?” you joked.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s one of the things that still reminds me of home.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly brought you to tears. This man had been through so much and was still the sweetest soul you’d ever met. Forced into a war he didn’t want to join, experimented on, tortured and brainwashed, hunted by every government in the world, captured, frozen, and forced into another war and more battles he shouldn’t have to join. He just couldn’t catch a break.

“Well I’m excited to see what else reminds you of home,” you replied.

The trains to and through Brooklyn were relatively busy so you and Bucky couldn’t really talk much, but it was a Saturday night so you couldn’t blame people for getting out. It was tough to find seats, but Bucky was willing to stand to make sure you could have a seat. Ever the gentleman.

When you made it to Bucky’s Brooklyn stop of choice, he started telling you more stories from the ‘40s, like when Steve couldn’t get off the train in time and accidentally went down another stop so Bucky ran to the next stop and found Steve heading his way anyway. And how he and Steve followed his sister Rebecca on a date “to watch out for her,” he said, and her date thought they were stalking her and tried to beat them up. And all the fights he pulled Steve out of.

“Punk was a chihuahua who thought he was a Rottweiler.”

For a while, you two walked around the streets of Brooklyn just telling each other stories. You were careful about names you used, often just calling Happy “Uncle Harry” and Rhodey “Uncle James.”

Bucky showed you the movie theater he and Steve used to go to, which was surprisingly still in business. You walked past what used to be a diner Bucky frequented but was converted into a bridal shop.

“This used to be a magic store Steve loved,” he said, looking up at the bank on the corner of the street. “Things have changed a lot.”

You heard the nostalgia in his voice, clearly missing the New York he grew up to love. He had a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced, though.

“What about where you lived?” you asked. “Do you remember where that is?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I could never forget that.”

Everything was within a fifteen minute walk of where you got off the subway so even though your feet were getting tired, you followed alongside Bucky as he led the way up and down the streets. Before too long, you strode up to a large brick building that had clearly been remodeled recently, if the fresh windows and front doors were any indication.

“It’s… a lot nicer than when I lived here,” Bucky said with a sigh. “But it’s been nearly 100 years so I can’t blame them for updating things.”

“Brooklyn is kind of booming now, too,” you added. “More people to appeal to, ya know?”

You stared up at him again, seeing that same lost look as before, like he wished to turn back time and show you the Brooklyn he knew. So you decided since he couldn’t do that, you’d show him the Brooklyn you knew.

“Come here. My turn to show you around,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a small smile before grabbing your hand in his and letting you pull him back to the subway.

Ten minutes later, you hopped off the train with Bucky in tow and headed to the little Italian restaurant you found while exploring the city a couple years before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; it was honestly more of a little hole-in-the-wall, but you liked the quiet atmosphere.

“Bella!” the owner shouted as you walked in.

“Hey Genny,” you smiled at him.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he approached you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Bucky.

“This is James,” you said. You opted against using his more common nickname to avoid any recognition.

“James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gennaro, but you can call me Genny. Welcome to my restaurant.” The two men shook hands before Genny ushered you two to a table and handed you menus. “Would you like to start with focaccia?”

“Yes please!”

“Con formaggi?”

“Si! Grazie!”

Gennaro left you and Bucky while he started your appetizer.

“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked.

“Definitely not,” you laughed. “I’ve just been coming here for a while and have picked up on some things Genny says. Like ‘bella’ means ‘beautiful,’ this pizza,” you pointed to your favorite pizza on the menu, “‘cinque formaggi’ means ‘five cheese.’ But I could never hold a conversation.”

“Un peccato,” Bucky sighed before flashing a smile at you.

“You speak Italian?!” you nearly shrieked. “No way! Don’t talk shit with Gennaro behind my back.” You pouted at Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t say anything bad about you. Maybe an embarrassing moment or two — like your dad walking in on you between his knees — but nothing negative.

“I picked it up pretty quickly back in the day,” Bucky explained. “Before I was sent to Germany, I was stationed in a small town in Italy for a while. The locals didn’t mind having us there because we kept the Nazis out, so they taught us some Italian when we were in town.”

“Maybe I should take Gennaro up on his offer to learn Italian,” you mused.

“Or you could learn from me,” Bucky was quick to offer. “I’ll teach you some stuff when you’re working on my arm.”

Your server arrived with the focaccia and water for both of you, before giving you more time to actually look at the menus instead of talking. You decided to split a bottle of red wine and two pizzas, one of your choice and one of Bucky’s. As the night went on, you and Bucky both opened up to each other even more than before. You could easily blame the buzz from a couple glasses of wine, but Bucky’s super soldier serum made you confused. His cheeks were flushed and he had more than half the bottle, so you wondered if maybe...

“Can you still get drunk?”

“Unlike Steve, yes. It takes more than this,” he said, lifting the nearly empty bottle of wine, “but since Steve and I received different serums, they work a little differently. I can definitely get drunk. Marijuana admittedly hits harder.”

You paused as you stared back at him, his elbows perched on the table and his clasped hands propped under his chin.

“Are you drunk now?”

“No,” he laughed quietly. “A little tipsy, sure, but not drunk by a long shot.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, reluctantly accepting that he was just as buzzed as you but not quite drunk.

Before long, your server brought over your tab and you realized how empty the restaurant had gotten. Then you noticed the broom and mop the server had brought out to the floor, then the dark ‘open’ sign, and finally the clock on the wall.

“You closed 20 minutes ago and didn’t kick us out?” you shouted at Gennaro. “Genny, you can always kick me out! I feel bad!”

Gennaro walked over to your table as you scrambled for your wallet and handed the server your card to run.

“I can’t kick you out, bella. You and your moroso are welcome any time.”

“I think this poor girl would beg to differ,” you said as the server handed your card and signature slip back. She just laughed at your comment, agreeing without saying it outright.

You left a hefty tip and hugged Genny before you and Bucky, both still a bit tipsy, shuffled outside.

“Thanks for buying dinner,” Bucky said. “This means I get to pay next time, though.”

He said it so casually and you already planned on another date, but it still kind of caught you off guard.

“Next time?” You smiled up at him and took a step closer until you were almost toe-to-toe. “There’s gonna be a ‘next time’?”

“I sure hope there is,” he said quietly, his smirk sending a rush up your spine.

“If you insist,” you sighed. He knew better than to believe you weren’t excited for your future plans. “I’m cold. Care to get an Uber with me?”

He gently grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, pulling the loose opening of his jacket over your arms and wrapping his arms around you to help keep you warm.

“Well, yeah. I need to make sure you get home safe so ‘next time’ can happen,” Bucky said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“You know, I don’t usually let men spoon me on the first date,” you joked as you tapped away to order an Uber.

“I can stop, if you want,” he teased.

You gripped his arm as he started to pull away. “I never said that.”

Bucky rode back to your place with you, keeping conversation casual as you both avoided the controversy you were about to face: to kiss on the first date or not. You never really had any issues with it before, but you already really liked Bucky. You didn’t want to risk messing it up by moving too fast. But what grown man would think a kiss on a first date was too fast? Well… maybe one born in the early 1900s…

Before your thoughts could throw you into a downward spiral, the driver pulled up outside your apartment complex. Bucky stepped out first and held the door open for you to scoot out after him. As you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your building, you felt those nerves creeping up on you again. God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since high school.

“I had fun tonight,” Bucky said first, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Me too,” you smiled back. “I’m excited for what you plan for next time.”

Bucky laughed at this, the crinkle of his nose making your own smile grow. God, you wanted to invite him inside already. In your defense, you’ve known him for a full month and spent even longer getting heart-eyes over him in college.

But you reined in your hormones and just took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest. His right hand came up to rest on your waist, but he kept the metal hand in his pocket. With your hand placement, you could feel the thrum of his heartbeat and judging by the pace, you knew you were both on the same page. As you were trying to shove your nerves aside, Bucky asked the one question you were hoping for.

“Can I kiss you?”

Knowing he wanted this as much as you did relieved some of your nerves, but also made the moment that much more real. You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“Yes, please do.”

You perched up on your toes to meet him halfway, letting his lips mold to yours. His hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer; you gripped the lapel of his jacket in your fists. Suddenly the cold of the night no longer existed. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off of him as he held you close. He pulled back for a second before diving right back in, this time nipping at your bottom lip. You giggled against him, but didn’t stop him from taking the innocent kiss a step further. Your hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck before tangling into his long hair. The vibration from his moan as you tugged on his hair ran straight down your spine, making it even harder to leave the date alone.

Reluctantly, you both pulled apart just enough for your noses to brush against each other, the stubble of his beard still tickling your nose. You opened your eyes enough to see the smile on his lips as he pulled back a bit more to see your face.

“I’ll see you Monday?” you said quietly, as if speaking any louder would break you two out of your bubble.

“See you Monday, [Y/N],” Bucky replied just as quietly. His hand slipped from your waist as you backed away, biting your lip at him before you turned and scurried up the steps. Bucky stood on the sidewalk until he could see the light in your apartment flick on, just to make sure you were safe.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x Stark!reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #Stark!reader #dad!tony #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fic

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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this series ❤️ I’ve had so much fun writing this and am very proud of and excited for it, I can’t wait to see how people react to this. Um I know there are plenty of warnings for a first chapter, but I promise it’s not as depressing as it sounds. It’s just that this story can deal with heavy stuff sometimes, so I just wanna let you know that. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, death, sexual assault and mental illness

Word Count: 3194

—————————————

One: Hi, My Name Is

“So, what was your time in Pennsylvania like?”

“Uh… I’d have to say it was the best… and worst time of my life.”

“Best and worst, huh? Would you like to elaborate?”

“Well, I, uh… I mean, I don’t really know how to, like… explain it. It’s a lot. I don’t even know where to begin… Or how I would even word it or anything.”

“Well, you told me you like television and movies, right? You know those shows and movies where the main character tells the plot as, like, their life story? Maybe you could try that.”

“You aren’t… You aren’t serious, are you?”

“You’ll know when I’m joking, trust me.”

“Oh… Okay, then. Well, um…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi? My name is… (Y/N)? This is my life story, I guess.

So, if we’re going to talk about my life in Pennsylvania, we’re going to have to start with my life in Kansas, first. I had two loving parents that soon turned into one at the too-young age of nine years, when my mom died. I remember her as one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. She had this way about her that was so carefree, yet she gave a shit about everything. You could never pin a thought to her because she never let you in on what was bouncing around in her head. She was stubborn and patient and lively. I miss her so much. I don’t usually think about her unless it’s a particularly hectic day, which I then resort to talking to the ring I wear on my left pinky finger at all times. Wasn’t anything special, just some cheap ring with a little emerald inside she found at a thrift store. It used to be hers and she’d wear it on the exact same finger. My dad said she’d want me to have it.

My dad is my favorite person. He isn’t the most… present, though. His mind is never set in one place, always racing with hundreds of unrelated thoughts. It’s why when you finally drag him back into reality, he can’t repeat a single sentence spoken to him. Regardless, he’s all I had for a long time. I never really learned what he does for a living, but I just know that it forces him to leave town sometimes. Well, more like all the time. Before my mom died, it was easy for him to leave for weeks on end, but when he became my only guardian, he didn’t really know what to do with me. It was like he completely forgot how to take care of a child, his child. When I turned twelve, that was when he started travelling again. I would then be home by myself for a month to eight weeks. In these times, I had no choice but to learn to cook for myself, go grocery shopping and housekeep. I became pretty independent at a young age. It wasn’t like Dad left me totally alone, though. He would call every two or three days and he sent me two hundred dollars every two weeks. Like I said, I don’t know what my dad did, but he was definitely getting paid. At the end of eighth grade, Dad had a particularly long trip to go on, so he sent me to Pennsylvania, where his sister lived.

Pennsylvania was partially the best part of my life because of my family. My Aunt Pam was like a second mother to me. She was never able to have another child after my cousin Jacob and she’s always wanted a daughter of her own, so that’s what I was to her. The daughter she could never have. I’d often find her staring at me with a bittersweet smile on her face, watching my every move with a sense of pride, but when I’d ask her what was wrong she’d only brush it off as her admiring me. My Uncle David didn’t necessarily view me as a daughter, but he certainly treated me like one. When he wanted to spend time with Jacob, he included me as well. We’d usually go on drives around the town, but I always fell asleep to the soft and serene music that filled the car from the radio. On the weekends, we would head down by the lake and spend hours learning to fish.

I hated it, but I couldn’t complain. It gave me a sense of certainty to live with a father figure who didn’t leave me alone every two or three months.

Jacob was like a brother to me. He’s a year older than me, which, to him, meant that he had to protect me at all costs. I always assumed it was because he always wanted a younger sibling, and I was the closest he was ever going to get to that. I always felt as though I’d never be able to equal Jacob on an intellectual level because he practically had the IQ of Albert Einstein himself. I felt inferior to him until I found out how much of a joy he really was. On the weekends, he would beg me to accompany him in a movie marathon. I learned that Jacob was a huge fan of Tim Burton (his favorite was Beetlejuice). He’s the only cousin I’ve ever known. Mom and Dad didn’t like each other’s families, so I never met anyone besides this little family. Moving in with them meant that they’d have this huge burden on them.

Yes, I almost forgot to mention that I struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. It just means that my mind is flooded with these crazy and unnecessary thoughts and so my behavior is affected by them. For example, if I were to blink and felt I put more pressure on my left eye than my right, I would have to repeatedly wink with my right eye until they felt balanced. Sometimes I can’t enter a room until I have inhaled eight times. If I scratch an itch on my left knee, I have to scratch the right one in the exact same place. At the sink, even if I don’t use both knobs, I have to hold both in my hands. And when I turn them off, I often have to check about four times before I am certain they’re turned off all the way. I know, it sounds tiring. Just imagine being on my end, having it be a part of who you are. I can’t do anything to stop it, I wish I could. I was always afraid to make friends because of this. If I couldn’t be balanced, I’d freeze, and I mean actually stop whatever I’m doing and stand still, until my body felt as if I were balanced once again. Who wouldn’t make fun of me for this?

Apparently, no one gave a shit about it. After moving to Pennsylvania, I made quite a name for myself at school. Literally. My name was Zip. I have no fucking clue how that ridiculous name came to be, but that’s what I went by day after day. One could say I was considered popular, but it wasn’t like I actually spoke to anyone. When it came to extracurriculars, I only participated in theatre. I never was part of the cast, just the stage manager. Secretly, I wanted so badly to audition and be a part of the magic they created on that stage. Not to boast or anything, but I had the talent and potential to be a starring role. But I could never bring myself to break out of my shell. Nonetheless, being stage manager still got me quite the attention. Everyone was always so nice to me, so I felt a little bad for not considering any of them as friends. That was until I met Dina.

Dina was new to our school sophomore year. She had this sort of light to her that attracted the pesky moths that were our dull and boring school body. We had the same social status in school. People liked our personalities, so we were well-liked and accepted without doing much to prove ourselves worthy. She was sweet and compassionate and so fun. I didn’t mean to become her friend, but she was so welcoming, despite being the newcomer. We became close friends, but not best friends. We already had people filling those roles.

Dina’s best friend was Sydney Novak. Sydney moved to Brownsville around the same time as Dina, so the two became best friends quickly, but Sydney wasn’t very popular at all. She was shy and introverted, but I thought she was nice enough. I liked her and thought she was a pretty cool person. We weren’t necessarily friends, we were just well acquainted simply because we were both close with Dina. The transitive property, if you would. I just wish we could’ve talked more, our relationship was pretty much nonexistent.

Speaking of nonexistent relationships, let’s talk about Richard Berry. I honestly don’t want to even think about him, but he played a role in my life that was too vital to just offhandedly mention. For some odd reason, Ricky Berry was absolutely in love with me. It was so obvious to everyone except for me. Sophomore year, he expressed his love through the most arrogant and cheesiest of pick-up lines and compliments. I wasn’t so easily won over, if you could guess. I tried being good friends with him, but he’d always fuck it up when he tried to initiate intimacy. I didn’t want to hold hands with him in the halls or receive “friendly” cheek kisses. I’m not what you would call affectionate, especially towards people I’m not close to. It’s just never been comfortable for me. Junior year, everyone around me was buzzing with excitement when they heard Ricky was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. The cheerleaders, who got to know him through his high school football career, constantly pestered me with reasons as to why I would be so lucky to date The Richard Berry. Granted, he became less of a dick junior year, so I thought, Why not?, and accepted. Being in a relationship with Ricky was the most one-sided… anything I had ever been a part of. He was undeniably enamored with me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings. He would show me off to his family and friends like a trophy, but if someone asked me if I had a boyfriend I’d go, “I mean, yeah. I guess”, so not a very healthy relationship. It also didn’t help that Ricky knew nothing about boundaries.

One night, we were in his bedroom, studying for a science test. Ricky wasn’t focused at all and kept trying to kiss and cuddle with me. I let him for awhile, but then he took my book from me and set it on the ground beside his bed. He suggested we have sex right then and there. Now, I was never a prude and definitely didn’t wait to have sex for the first time, but I never wanted Ricky to be my first. He hadn’t earned enough of my trust to even touch me suggestively. So, of course I refused. Ricky only took that as me teasing him, so he advanced, nearly forcing himself on me. Using all my might, I shoved him off of the bed. He stood to his feet, utterly confused, but I only gathered my things and left his house. He tried following after me, but I ignored him until he turned and went back into his home. The next day at school, he was holding me and kissing me and showing me off to everyone like he always did. As if nothing happened between us the night before. It was difficult to do, since he was so inconsiderate, but I managed to break up with him. He tried to deny that we were Splitsville for about a week, but everyone caught wind of our break-up. Once everyone knew about it, it became true for him. I never really felt comfortable with being intimate or open with guys after that.

Besides with Stanley Barber, of course. Stan was my best friend in the entire world. I told only my deepest, darkest secrets to him. And he told me his. The only things we really had in common were our lack of mothers and our hideous bacne. Stan lived a few houses down and was eager to get to know me a week after I moved in. I’d never met anyone in my life like Stan. He was so awkward, but loveable. I don’t know, I guess he reminded me of my mom. The way he didn’t care, but he so clearly did. Whenever I wanted to talk about something that was difficult to voice, we’d smoke to ease the tension. Of course, this wasn’t how we always communicated. Despite his nervous stuttering, he was easy to open up to. Stan provided a sort of security in my life. He was never going to leave me and that put me at ease when hanging out with him, which we did regularly. I don’t know when exactly I developed a crush on him, but I never wanted it to surface in our bond. He was to never know. It was just a stupid crush, right? He was a guy who wasn’t family and was so unbelievably caring towards me. It was bound to happen, but that didn’t mean he had to be aware of it. Though, it was a little hard to keep such a secret when we’d both made out twice already. The first time was while I was dating Ricky, the kiss was very awkward and ended after about a minute and a half. The second kiss was just half a week after my breakup. That time, we’d both known what we were doing. And I may be a little biased, but you couldn’t have even thought to fake the passion in that makeout session. We never talked about either of those kisses and remained friends both times. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that we didn’t become anything more afterwards. It was for the best, though, because two weeks before spring break, my dad returned from his job in Georgia and moved me to Kansas again. The move was so abrupt that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone besides my family.

My life in Kansas for the second time was something I’d never want to experience ever again. Since it was a little late in the year, I finished junior year online. For some unexplained reason, my dad had us get new phones and new numbers, so I lost all contact with my friends. I had no one to talk to and it wasn’t like my dad paid much attention to me. I remember spending every waking moment with him when I was younger, talking or playing games or watching television. It used to be so fun being his daughter, but when we moved back to Kansas, I just felt like this huge burden in his life. Our relationship was strained and he clearly had other priorities in his life. Like whatever he left back in Georgia. I’d see his phone ring and the same number from that state would pop up before he’d leave the room and privately talk with whoever. It wasn’t the secrecy that was off-putting to me, it was the fact that it was so much more important to him. Once again, I was ignored by the one person in my life I wanted to spend the most time with. So, you can imagine the joy I felt when Dad had to go back to Georgia for work. I had been attending public school for my senior year and left not even a full month in. It didn’t bother me, I had no friends and nothing to leave behind. Mid-September was when I moved back to Brownsville with Aunt Pam. Everyone accepted me right back in. Especially my classmates. As I walked the halls I heard whispers like,

“Oh, my god, is that Zip?”

“Zip’s back! Where’d she even go?”

“I thought she died.”

The only person I really wanted to notice me was Stan. I missed him so much, I even got into his favorite band to have something to remember him by. I remember the day I got back to my aunt’s house. Jacob had picked me up from the airport and was driving me to the house. He was attending community college, but was still living with his parents. As we drove, he tapped his index fingers rhythmically to the shitty pop music that played on the radio. “So, what are you excited about for senior year?”

“Not much, I just missed Dina and Stan. Theatre, too. I wonder how they’ve been doing without me.” I chuckled. Jacob huffed in amusement.

“But you didn’t miss Ricky?”

“Fuck, Jake, you know I didn’t miss him for a second.” I frowned, waving my hand in dismissal. My cousin tauntingly laughed at me. Had he actually known about what happened between Ricky and I, he wouldn’t have teased me. In fact, Ricky wouldn’t even be alive that day if Jacob found out. No one knew about the incident, not even Stan.

Pulling up in front of the house, we got out of the car and headed to the trunk to pull out my bags. I tried carrying them in, but Jacob insisted that he do all the heavy lifting and simply asked me to carry my backpack and close the trunk. I did what little I was asked of and headed to the front door to greet my aunt and uncle inside, but stopped. In the corner of my eye, I saw movement from the Barber residence. Turning, my eyes locked on Stanley, who was frozen beside his car. He was wearing his work uniform and staring at me with the most bewildered expression on his face. It was like he thought himself to be hallucinating my existence. Smiling, I simply waved at him before walking back inside. When he got home from work that night, he headed over to my house and knocked on the door. I answered with a grin on my face. “Stan!”

“If it isn’t the famous Zip, showing back up in my life.”

“Ugh, do not call me that.” I rolled my eyes playfully before bringing him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin at the top of my head. I would’ve stayed there all night if I could’ve. When Stanley pulled away, my heart hollowed and a pit formed within my stomach. I felt unfinished, unbalanced. And I hate imbalance. He asked if I wanted to hang out and I accepted his offer. All we did was lay on his floor, listen to music and get high, but in that moment, that’s all I needed.

Bloodwitch, a joint, and Stan laying by my side.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

Wait for me on the other side 3/8

Chapter Summary:

Rain... Fireworks... Romance?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82052251

April 15, 2021 - 7:00

Loki, his heart pounding, approached the mailbox whose flag was raised.

He opened it and unfolded the small note with trembling fingers.

Thank you for this lovely attention. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it.

You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone anymore and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?

I don't want to stop either!

I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to continue to get to know you and for you to get to know me.

Tell me what you like.

Yours, Mobius.

Loki breathed a sigh of relief, put the letter in his pocket and left. He would have to work before he could write. This was no longer a matter of a quick word, he wanted to take time to think before he wrote.

As he walked through the school gates, although he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

April 17, 2019

Mobius was sitting in what had become his special Loki spot, the armchair in front of the bay window, a steaming cup of coffee next to him, reading Loki's latest letter.

I love Norse mythology and my work.

My favorite cocktail is Gimlets, gin and lime.

This brings me to my favorite color: green.

I have a sweet tooth, I like all kinds of sweets and pastries, and on the other hand I also like everything spicy.

I like quiet evenings reading and listening to music.

I like Jane Austen, The Brontë sisters and Paulo Coehlo.

I like to use metaphors but I have heard that they are not always great.

And although I can't stand violence, I like daggers, especially old ones.

Oh and I forgot, I like the house on the hill.

Mobius promised himself to go and see in Sylvie's antique weapons store if she had any antique daggers.

I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lies.

And although they are green I hate peas.

Mobius laughed at the last sentence, he finished his coffee and went to get his notepad to start writing.

April 19, 2021

Loki, sitting cross-legged on his couch with Croki's head on his leg, was reading Mobius' latest letter.

I like to take watches apart and put them back together, to see the mechanism inside. They are all different.

I like to walk in the streets of New York and discover places by chance.

I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish.

I like whiskey, Jack Daniels, and occasionally a good glass of red French Bordeaux wine.

I like all kinds of music, but my preference is for jazz.

I don't like lies, preconceived judgments, and gratuitous meanness, well, just plain meanness.

And I also like the house on the hill.

How did you end up living there anyway?

Loki read the letter again, folded it up and put it in the little box with the others before going to bed and thinking about what he would answer the next day.

April 21, 2019

Mobius went out still in his robe because it was a day of rest. He was surprised to see that Loki had already answered if he was to believe the little flag. He refused to question the fact that his heartbeat had accelerated.

He went to get the letter, then read it in front of his breakfast, Croki at his feet.

I rented it after college. It was the strangest place I had ever seen. I couldn't imagine anyone building it. Or... I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it sort of...hovered over the water. I loved that path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.

April 23, 2021

Loki, on break between classes, took the letter out of his pocket and read it again.

Yes, the fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door and that it's uphill, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time you enter the house, it's like you're embarking on a quest whose prize is the right to enter.

I'm sorry, I must sound eccentric.

April 24, 2019

During his lunch break, and all day, he read that simple phrase from Loki over and over again.

Don't apologize, you can be eccentric. You can be whatever you want.

Mobius had always felt different, both in his personal and professional life choices, and this simple phrase eased some of his inner struggles. He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest.

*********

A few weeks passed. The wind was blowing violently on a late spring day in New York. Loki was walking rapidly towards the school. His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, he grabbed it to answer the call.

-Yes?

Loki lost the smile on his face.

-Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know that... no, I'm not mad that you called. I just... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I...

He was approaching the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students came in.

-I don't think that's a good idea. No. Sigyn, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... look, I'm on my way to work, we'll talk about it. Bye.

Loki sighed, shaking his head as he walked through the large front door.

" Already feeling demotivated?" asked Natasha as she greeted him with a smile.

"Oh no no!" protested Loki.

"That's good timing. Heimdall has caught the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's absent. Since you have an art degree, I was wondering if..."

"No worries! I'm happy to oblige."

"Perfect," Natasha thanked him, "You can check with the assistant about Heimdall's schedule and make arrangements then. Thank you Loki, really. If the exams weren't coming up, I wouldn't have asked you."

Loki replied, "No worries, really."

If anything, he was glad to see that even though he was the last one in and the youngest teacher, he was trusted.

At the end of the week, as he walked home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought about it before saying yes.

Because he was exhausted.He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to handle two positions.

Fortunately, Heimdall was back at work on Monday.

Loki put his groceries in the car and thought he'd stop by the house on the hill before heading home.

When he arrived, the little flag was up.

He took the letter and opened it.

Hi, pen pal. You haven't written in a while. I hope all is well.

You actually I

This is ridiculous, just a few words to write and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager.

Well I'm writing it down: I MISS YOU

It was obvious that the last words had been written with force.

Loki felt a strange warm feeling in his chest. He had also hugely missed the correspondence, so he hurried to answer on the spot and put the letter in the box before going home.

**********

Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Mobius chose to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he saw the little flag raised.

He took the letter out of the box and once he got home, Croki fed, he went to his favorite place to read the letter.

It has been a difficult week.

I couldn't get away from work and only had the strength to go to bed at night. I can't remember the last time I looked up at the sky, or saw a damn tree. That's what I miss. The nature around me.

It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.

PS: I missed you too

June 15, 2019 - 9:00 pm.

In the evening, Mobius left the house with a small tree in the pickup's trailer. He was driving towards the city.

June 15, 2021 - 9:30 pm

In the middle of the walk from school to his apartment, Loki saw the black rain clouds gathering in the sky. Suddenly there was a rumble of thunder in the distance and as he was on the home stretch, the rain began to pour.

June 15, 2019 - 9:35 PM

Arriving at 105 MacDougal Street - Greenwich Village, obviously still under construction, Mobius parked the pickup and pulled a shovel and the tree from the trailer. He began digging a hole outside the construction site that would become Loki's apartment building. Once finished, he began planting the tiny, fragile tree.

June 15, 2021 - 9:35 pm

Loki was completely soaked as he walked the last few yards to his front door. He struggled to find his keys, dropped them, and grew more and more frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped. He was baffled, as thunder and lightning continued to flash across the sky, and the rain continued to fall all around him, but not on him.

He looked up.

Above him were the dense green leafy branches of a young tree that formed a canopy swaying in the rain right above Loki. It hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Loki was stunned.

June 15, 2019 - 9:37pm

Mobius smiled as he swung the shovel into the pickup's trailer before heading home.

June 15, 2021 - 9:37 pm

Loki, overcome with emotion, broke into a smile and whispered to Mobius, even though he couldn't hear him, "Thank you."

Raindrops fell through the green branches as Loki danced under the tree, his face to the sky.

*********

2019 - A few days later

Casey stood on the small path in front of Mobius' house, "Wow!!!"

Mobius motioned for him to follow him inside.Casey entered, still stunned by the house.

"So, this is where you're hiding?"

Mobius replied with a smile, "Yeah.You want a beer?"

"Yeah thanks."

Mobius pulled two beers out of the fridge and they went to the chairs in front of the bay window and talked about the house for a while. Casey had lots of questions.

Casey took a sip and his face became more serious.

"Mobius. I didn't just come here to escape my pathetic existence in the city. I came to talk to you about TK and ask you to come back with us. We need you."

Mobius shook his head, "TK? Sorry Casey but no."

"I'm sure if you talked to her..." insisted Casey.

"Forget it.Ravonna doesn't want me to come back. I don't want to come back. Everyone's happier now."

Casey argued, "What about your work? Your work was awesome. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put your problems with her aside, you-"

"I said forget it." replied Mobius, this time with a sharp tone before softening, "Sorry. It's just... I like it here. And I like my job at the store."

Casey nodded and accepted the answer before asking, curious again, "Are you in a relationship with anyone?"

Mobius answered after a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, "No."

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

Mobius insisted, "I...I'm not involved with anyone, okay?"

"Okay." replied Casey, who smiled playfully before continuing, "All I'm saying is that maybe you should think about the future."

Mobius began to laugh. He couldn't stop himself.

Casey looked at him as if he had gone crazy, "What?"

Mobius continued to laugh.

"What?"

**********

A few days later, with Loki's letter open in the passenger seat of his pickup, Mobius drove to the train station near Brooklyn College of Arts.

He parked, picked up the letter and got out, heading for the entrance to the station.

Around this time two years ago, I lost something.

In the Brooklyn train station.

I was going back to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is.

Then put it in the mailbox. It's your mission if you choose to accept it.

Mobius could not resist a challenge. So he found himself at that moment looking for an object he knew nothing about. He walked through the station. There were a few people. He looked for a single man and saw none. Just a few families and an elderly couple.

He continued to search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the station platform, he saw a young man with long black hair get up and get ready to board the train.

Mobius wasn't sure if it was him, but he felt deep down that he was Loki, and he was amazingly handsome. Mobius hurried through the door and onto the station platform. He was about to head towards him when he stopped.

The young man had embraced a woman who had her back to Mobius.

They kissed and said goodbye.

Neither of them noticed that Loki, for it was undoubtedly Loki, had left a book on the bench behind him. Mobius saw it, but it would be awkward to approach and interrupt the kiss. He hesitated.

The train driver announced the final boarding.

Loki separated from the woman, obviously reluctantly, and boarded the train.

The woman Loki had kissed did not move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He did not notice the book. Mobius watched him leave and once he was gone, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Loki had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Persuasion by Jane Austen. It had definitely been Loki.

********

Loki impatiently went to the mailbox, thinking that perhaps Mobius had already been to the station.

He opened it, and was disappointed when he didn't see the book and just a little note.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE 4TH OF JULY?

Loki, a little disappointed, answered immediately on the same piece of paper and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of the little flag being raised and went back to the box and opened it. He grabbed the small paper and unfolded it.

L: Going to the fireworks, I guess.

I go every year. Why?

M: Would you like to watch them together? From the cliff. The fireworks on the lake are beautiful

L: I know, I watched them from the house the time I lived there.

You're not asking me out, are you?

M: No, no. I just thought it might be nice to do the same thing, that's all.

L: The same thing, two years apart.

M: It's better than staying home.

L: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.

M: See you in 10 days then. July 4th at 10pm in front of the mailbox.

Mobius did not wait for an answer, and walked happily back to the house. Even though he had denied it, it still felt like a date of some sort.

The butterflies began to fly again.

July 4, 2019/2021 - 10:00 pm.

Two years apart, in the same place, Loki and Mobius sat next to the mailbox. Mobius brought one of the seats from the garden furniture and Loki brought an old folding camping seat in his car.

He is armed with his pad and pencil.

The strange and timeless conversation started again, always punctuated by the little flag that went up and down.

L: Did you go to the station? I never got my book.

M: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it.

By the way, there's something I wanted to ask you.

Who was the girl at the station?

Your fiancée?

Why didn't you tell me about her?

Loki thought it sounded like Mobius was jealous, but didn't want to get the wrong idea.

L: You don't tell me about your love life either.

M: Because I don't have one unfortunately.

My God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.

L: I'm not married. We broke up when I moved to New York.

I'm on my own.

The fireworks just started.

M: They started here too.

I'm sure yours are better, since it's supposed to get better every year.

L: Probably. Let's enjoy the sight.

Afterwards, during the fireworks, the flag did not move for a while. Then when the grand finale was over, and the silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, making Loki jump.

M: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were so gorgeous.

Loki read these words and could not suppress a small gasp of surprise. He looked around embarrassed even though he knew for a fact that no one was there.

L: Not fair.

You saw me but I still don't know what you look like.

Mobius ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was truth night, he might as well go for it.

M: You're right. I wouldn't mind knowing what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and tell me what you think?

Loki thought about it and then looked at his watch, it was 10:43 pm, he took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous

L: Why don't you call me on July 4, 2021 at 10:44 pm

As Loki finished the last line of the "4" the phone rang.

He almost fell out of his chair.

He steadied himself with a pounding heart and picked up, "Hello?"

________

Who is on the other end of the phone...?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

#lokius fic #alternative ending #no powers au #loki #mobius m mobius #loki series #lokius #loki x mobius #time husbands #timefrost #developing relationship #penpal

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okay-victoria · 3 years

Text

Random Personal Rant

For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.

With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldn't qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dad...did not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I don't mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasn't an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.

My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my mom's friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad and...my mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldn't go 😂

So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true "day job" worked day labor in construction. My dad's father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didn't beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didn't own any.

My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldn't afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).

It is hard not to believe in "toxic masculinity" when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide 'help' isn't the worst word in the English language, and you know you've only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the don't-bend-the-knee stick. It wasn't that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed "male pride" in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars I'd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didn't tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadn't been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money they'd taken from me without asking because I'd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldn't have my own bank account].

While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dad's father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldn't get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didn't even accrue over time, just...whenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasn't giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the "big donors" events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my mom's wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.

And look. When I say "these people"...honestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she did...go to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after you'd arrived, and come back after you felt you'd 'centered' yourself. She didn't understand why there were so many unhappy people who weren't taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didn't quite know how to explain that saying "most" people couldn't afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didn't even cover it, as "most" sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.

I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most "city" guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldn't because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad "mesh" put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didn't have the money to win a lawsuit over.

I don't know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfather's money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, I'll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your family’s life too, not just their own.

I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when I'd had mom sound instincts from age 9.

I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldn't and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldn't ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldn't give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their "marriage contract" type agreement and she couldn't ever stay with us overnight when there wasn't a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dad's life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.

The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldn't conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothers' education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didn't think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didn't want to risk asking for the standard week's bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadn't built up a reputation yet.

My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, he'd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say they'd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, although...tbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing 😅. The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad he'd gone, we'd live on just fine without him because that's how he'd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I don't think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for God's sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.

That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of "fair" is one you don't easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and I'm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldn't afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I don't care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?

Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that I'd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went "the government needs to confiscate more money from me". The narrative is always that the "undeserving" will use it for dumb things they don't need like iPhones or refrigerators...?...but like...I could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly either....?....who is going to get more joy out of this misspent money....?....not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.

My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents don't have it. It's the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could just...pay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didn't have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckin' best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.

...anyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.

I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldn't come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldn't be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I don't breathe heavy or anything, and I'm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like "fine if you don't go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it out" and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didn't really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didn't even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.

They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for "skipping" chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didn't have a serious infection that needed treating and couldn't rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.

After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dad's discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is like...etiquette school....? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to "finishing" school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasn't entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like "what a rich man wants in a wife" school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.

I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didn't count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.

It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because it's one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I don't remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life I've given don't always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.

Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didn’t need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.

Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didn’t solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, it’s my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

A Place To Call Home: Dark Roads

Summary: The reader and Jensen are up in Vancouver doing some work for the brewery and Jensen has an audition to attend to. After the work day is over though, Jensen decides to surprise the reader with a mini-vacation with plenty of fun before they head home. But not all surprises are good and not all nights end well...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Square: Domestic!AU

Word Count: 10,100ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much angst), fluff

A/N: This part takes place after the Christmas Vacation timestamp. Enjoy! Don’t hate me!

A/N #2: Also written for @spndeanbingo

________

“So, what do you think?” asked the man in the suit on the other side of the conference table. You looked to your left, your dad looking over at you.

“It is a good offer, Mr. Hamilton, but unfortunately we can’t accept,” you said. He balked at you before looking over to your dad.

“She’s the boss, not me,” he said. “It doesn’t sound like we have a deal.”

“Mr. Ackles-”

“Are you disrespecting her because she’s a woman or my child? I’m not quite sure which one it is,” said your dad with a smile. The man’s face went blank and you kept a smirk off your own. “I am here as an owner. If this is how your grocery store deals with heads of distribution for breweries then I’ll tell you right now, never call us again,” said your dad. You gathered up your papers and slid them back in your portfolio, the man taking a deep breath.

“What if we did 5% better than the number on that page?” he asked.

“No,” you said, your dad echoing the sentiment.

“That’s an amazing deal,” he said as he stood up. You clenched your jaw and shoved your portfolio in your bag as your dad leaned back in his seat.

“Actually, Mr. Hamilton, it’s not. You offered the least desirable shelf space, a very small amount of shelf space at that, placement in your outer region stores, not in the city or suburbs surrounding Vancouver, and you wanted an absurd percent of profits. People in this area want our products and we are more than happy to find a seller that suits our needs,” you said. You nodded and your dad stood up. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Hamilton.”

Mr. Hamilton grumbled as you walked out of the conference room, your dad smiling wide as you walked through the hall.

“Alright. I’m impressed. You more than earned that promotion,” he said.

“Negotiating distribution deals is strangely a lot like college,” you said. “But easier.”

“These guys weren’t even your first choice,” he said once you were in the elevator alone.

“Nope but they didn’t need to know that,” you said. “I wanted the other deal as soon as I saw it.”

“Well let’s send it out to the lawyer to review and then we can sign the paperwork,” he said.

“I already did,” you said with a smile.

“You did huh. What if I wanted to go with this guy?” he asked.

“You may be the head owner but I’m head of distribution. I want your input but if you’re going to second guess me, I don’t want that job. I told you that when you gave it to me,” you said. He nodded and leaned back against the wall. “What?”

“S’nice to see you confident is all,” he said. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I really don’t. I just kinda try my best and hope it works out,” you said.

“Pretty much the definition of being an adult,” he chuckled.

“Does that feeling ever go away?” you asked.

“Well, I’m fifty one and I don’t feel much different than a twenty year old kid if I’m being honest. You learn not to sweat the small stuff as much I suppose but not really,” he said.

“Like you getting gray hair,” you smirked. You earned a headlock for that comment, your dad only releasing you from your noogie when you got to the lobby. “Hey, at least you have hair still!”

“You are being such a little shit,” he laughed.

“I won’t tell anyone you dye it,” you said, humming as you headed for the exit.

“I do not! It’s a few specks and that’s it. Plus mom thinks it’s hot so I see no problems with it,” he said, pulling you into another noogie once you were outside. You fixed your hair, getting a peck on the temple. “Alright, alright. I got my audition I have to run to. You want to head back to the hotel and change and I can meet you back there later before I take you out for dinner?”

“Actually, could I go with you? I’ve never seen one of those,” you said. He winced and cocked his head. “I can go somewhere else, that’s-”

“It’s not a problem, munchkin. It’s just...it’s kind of an intense audition. It’s a drama. It’s a pretty dark scene,” he said.

“I’ve seen all of Supernatural though and the movie. I even read the other movie I wasn’t supposed to know about yet and that one goes way dark,” you said. He bit his bottom lip and you smiled. “It’s cool dad. You need to do your audition thing anyways.”

“You sure?” he asked. “If you want to-”

“Probably a better idea for me to wait until the movie,” you said. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel then?”

“Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

“So how’d it go?” you asked when your dad walked in the hotel room three hours later. He sighed and you frowned. “You didn’t get it?”

“Oh, I got it,” he said, plopping down in the chair. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled. “I turned it down though, took a different part in the movie.”

“But why would you turn down the lead?” you asked.

“You know how I said it’s supposed to be dark? But there’s that bit of love story?” he asked.

“Yeah. That’s what was cool to you about it you said.”

“Yeah. I met the lead actress who would be my romantic interest,” he said.

“She not so great?”

“She was very lovely,” he said. “She’s also nineteen years old.”

“So...thirty two years age difference?” you said with a wince as he nodded. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

“Hollywood is...I am very happy you never wanted to be an actress, let’s put it that way,” he said. “Now I’m playing her dad in the movie. I would have walked completely but my manager is gonna kill me as is for walking from a lead roll,” he said.

“Do you really need it though?” you asked.

“No. I wanted to try out something new and interesting though,” he said. “That story was different.”

“Yeah but I see red flags all over it. Who’s even the target audience besides pervy old guys?” you asked. He laughed and nodded, getting to his feet.

“You have a very good point,” he said. “Besides, I got another album I want to work on in the meantime and there’s plenty of other stories out there.”

“Told you so,” you said. “Now where are we going for dinner cause last time it was that really fancy steakhouse downtown and-”

“Pack up your bag and we’ll head up,” he said with a smirk. You narrowed your eyes and he padded into the bathroom. “Oh, we’re staying somewhere else tonight. Maybe we can go visit the canyon-”

“I love the canyon park!” you said, hopping up from the bed. “Are the winter lights still up?”

“Yes,” he said with a big smile. “We got a three hour drive up there and then we’re gonna have a nice dinner and then we can go check it out before we fly home tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like, really nice. What’s the occasion?” you asked.

“No occasion other than to see you get all excited,” he said. “You know mom and your brother are off having a fun little weekend together while your sisters drive TJ insane. I figured we could have one night of fun.”

“Are you kidding me? They love him. He texted me that they ordered a pizza each for themselves for dinner,” you said. “They were gonna stay up late and watch rom coms apparently.”

“You found a pretty good guy,” he chuckled, as he walked back out of the bathroom and stuck his small bag in his backpack. You gave him a quick smile and nod, your dad returning it. “You two doing good?”

“Yeah. I just…” you said, starting to pack up. “I don’t know.”

“Something going on?” he asked. You shrugged and put your heels in your suitcase. “Y/N.”

“You know how his parents were in town last week?” you asked. He nodded and you took a deep breath. “Well, Allie was doing something she wasn’t supposed to and his dad was watching her and so we said timeout time was what we do and everything was going fine and then she comes running in from the playroom crying cause he’d tried spanking her.”

“TJ doesn’t strike me as the kind of parent that would be okay with spanking. It doesn’t do any good,” he said.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t just spanking. It was you know...old school spanking,” you said.

“With…” he said, pointing at his belt. You nodded and he rolled his eyes. “No offense but his father is a fucking idiot. I’ve always thought so.”

“Well, if you thought I was pissed, you should have seen TJ. I’ve never seen him that angry before. He got in a huge shouting match with his dad. I took the kids outside to the park and then his parents were gone by the time we got back. They’re not speaking at the moment,” you said. “I was just...why doesn’t his dad just talk to him? Talk to his grandkids? I know you guys would never do something like that and...I just don’t understand some men and their need to be the tough guy and the asshole all the time.”

“You grew up with a couple of those yourself,” he said. You finished with your clothes and gave him a glance before he grabbed some more relaxing clothes to change into. “If I knew why, I would tell you. Strength doesn’t belong to men and emotions don’t belong to women. I pity anyone who thinks experiencing their life fully is weakness.”

“Mom told me once, when I first came to the house that you were a bit closed off when you were younger,” you said.

“I was. In a way I still am. I always will be. I’m like you in that way. I always felt things but it’s scarier to show it. You feel like you have to be strong, you don’t want to bother other people, you think it goes away on it’s own,” he said. “Then you fall in love and then you have children and you realize there is nothing more badass than playing princesses with your daughter and knowing that you are part of the reason why she has pure happiness at that moment. I only ever wanted my family to felt the love that I did. It’s a pretty decent way to live. If somebody out there doesn’t think I’m man enough, that’s their problem, not mine.”

“TJ thinks of you as his real dad, you know. He says you’ve never put him down or belittled him. He’s never questioned what you think of him.”

“Why would I hurt some innocent kid, especially one that’s one of mine?” he asked. “You know better than anyone, kiddo, blood doesn’t make you family.”

“No, it doesn’t. Go change so we can get on the road. I’m starving already.”

“Did you get lost?” you asked two and a half hours later as your dad drove the SUV he’d rented for the weekend.

“No, I’m not lost. The hotel is just a few miles up the road I think,” he said. You stared out the dark window, rain coming down hard on the January night.

“If you tell me the name I can-” you said, a hand reaching out in front of you before you crashed head on into something. You suspected the SUV had flipped but it was too hard to tell, especially once you hit your head on something and went out cold.

You woke up a few seconds later, gaining your bearings, turning to your right and finding your dad upside down and covered in blood.

“Dad,” you said, undoing your seatbelt. You shoved on him but he was still, his jacket turning a crimson color. “No, no, no.”

You dropped down and undid his seatbelt too, catching him as he slipped. You kicked away the glass in the broken windshield and dragged him outside into the rain. You felt pain in your back but ignored it and got him out where you could see in the headlights. You glanced past the truck and saw what looked like a dead moose in the middle of the road.

“Dad,” you said, laying him down. He had a cut on his head in his hair, his chest was soaked and his left leg looked funny. You tugged up his shirt and got a face full of blood for it, falling backwards and wiping it away.

You stared at him before you put a shaky hand against his neck. There wasn’t anything there and you moved your fingers again, over and over and over.

“Dad, no,” you said, shaking him, unable to find a pulse. “You promised me. You don’t…”

He didn’t move and you sat back on your heels, looking around for help but there were no other cars, nothing around but trees and a wet road. You reached a hand into your pocket for your phone but it was shattered, pieces of metal and glass falling out. You found his in his back pocket but it was broken and wouldn’t turn on.

“No, no, no!” you shouted, throwing the phone against the truck. “No! You don’t get to die! You don’t die...you promised. Dad, you promised. You said 102. I can’t...I can’t, please I can’t. Please wake up. Please, please, please, dad. Please. I love you. You can’t go yet. Please, daddy, please, wake up.”

You tried for a pulse again but there was nothing and the rain was beginning to stain the ground pink. You stared at it long enough for your stomach to swirl. You ran over to the side of the road and threw up, slowly coming back before you fell down to your knees. You looked at him, a heaving sob leaving you as you clenched your fists.

“What did I ever do to you?” you shouted at the dark sky. “What did I do to you! Stop killing my parents! I never did anything wrong! Why do you keep hurting them! Why!”

You turned to your dad and you could barely see you were crying so hard.

“Wake up,” you said. He was motionless and you took your fist, beating on his chest hard. “I said wake up!”

You slammed it down again, over and over until your hand was throbbing but you didn’t care. All you wanted was for him to be okay.

“WAKE UP!” you screamed, bringing your fist down hard.

“Y/N!” he said as he shot up, gasping for air before he plopped back down. You scurried next to him, your dad taking a few deep breaths as he looked up at you. “You okay, tall munchkin?”

“I’m fine,” you said, putting a hand on his head. “Dad, don’t move. You’re really hurt.”

“I feel really hurt so can do,” he said, shutting his eyes.

“Stay awake!” you shouted, his eyes flying open.

“No closing eyes, understood,” he said. You squeezed yours shut and took off your jacket, shaking the phone piece away before you balled the thing up and pressed it against his stomach. You threw his hands over top of it, and took off your flannel, folding it up and tying it around his leg. You sat back at his head again, taking over for putting pressure on his stomach. “Y/N, look at me.”

You glanced down, finding a look on his face you’d not seen since he found you on the highway, walking in the rain the night of your seventeenth birthday.

He was afraid.

“Did you think I died?” he asked. You couldn’t speak but nodded, trying to stop the tears that were mixing in with the rain. “Oh, honey. Honey, I’m okay. Dad’s okay.”

“You didn’t have a pulse,” you choked out. “And our phones are broken and there’s no one out here and you can’t move and now I have to watch you die.”

You cried hard, sobbing as you tried to get a hold on the bleeding.

“You’re hurt,” he said, a stray finger tracing over a cut on your arm.

“I don’t care!” you shouted. “I can’t fix this. I don’t want to watch my dad die again. Don’t make me do that again, please, dad, please.”

“Y/N, breathe, kiddo,” he said when you felt yourself gasping for air. You shook your head and felt him reach a shaky hand up and wipe off your face. “Honey, it’s gonna be okay. No matter what happens.”

“I don’t want to be alone again. Don’t leave me here by myself,” you said.

“I’m gonna do my best,” he said but he was looking even paler and you winced. “But you’re a smart girl. You’re an amazing young woman and I know you don’t want to hear this right now but I don’t...I don’t feel right inside and I don’t think...I don’t want to die, munchkin. I’m not done with you yet either. But odds are, I’m not making it off this road and if that happens, you’re gonna promise me you’re gonna go be happy and have a really great life and I’m gonna be upstairs watching your back okay?”

You nodded, not even bothering trying to not cry anymore.

“I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I’m really happy we got to a place where I know you love me back just as much. Oh, and there’s boxes in the storage container for all you guys. Letters. There’s one for this too. Just read it. It’s gonna sound a hell of a lot better than whatever this blubbering mess is.”

“Stop crying,” you said to him.

“Can’t really help it at the moment,” he said, pursing his lips.

“Can I make you feel better?” you asked quietly.

“Just stay...maybe don’t tell mom about the crying,” he said with a laugh and a wince.

“Okay,” you said. You took a deep breath, spotting your purse nearby. You stared at him and back at the bag.

“What?”

“How much do you trust me?” you asked.

“With my life,” he said.

“Hold this,” you said. You put his hands on your jacket again, feeling him put less pressure than before. You reached over and grabbed your purse, dumping it on the ground and picking up your hand sanitizer. You squeezed it all over your hands and rubbed them together, taking a deep breath. You moved his hands away and took a deep breath. You grabbed your hat from your bag on the ground nearby and rolled it up, shoving it in his mouth. “Whatever I do, don’t yank my hand away, okay?”

He nodded and saw you peel the jacket back quick to get a look.

“I really hope you pass out from this,” you said. He gave you a thumbs up and squeezed his eyes shut before you moved the jacket away and shoved your fingers into the tear in his torso. He shouted into the hat, your fingers trying to find the spot inside that was gushing the blood out. You shuddered when the sound escaping him turned into some kind of scream you were positive he shouldn’t have been capable of making. The hat fell out of his mouth and he threw his head back, squirming as he grabbed your arm.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You’re gonna die right here if we don’t stop the bleeding right now.”

“Stop!” he shouted, body tensing up, his voice quiet. “Please, stop. Please, Y/N.”

“Almost,” you said, his hand tightening around your wrist but never pulling away. You felt something different inside and pinched with your fingertips, your dad trying to get away from it. You peeled up the jacket from around your hand and saw the blood was much slower, stopping to a trickle eventually. “Hey! I think I stopped it!”

“Great,” he winced, slamming his hand against the pavement. “Everything in me wants to just rip your hand out of my insides. God, you have no idea how badly I want to do that right now.”

“S’kinda how period cramps feel,” you said. “This is a little more extreme though.”

“I would hope so,” he said. You leaned over and looked at his leg but it looked decent for the moment. “So, we’re just gonna sit here then until a car comes.”

“I think that’s the plan considering either of us moves and you’re dead,” you said.

“Okay. Good plan,” he said. He rested his hand on your arm and pushed up your short sleeve. “Is you shoulder dislocated?”

“Yeah,” you said. He frowned and you laughed. “Dad, I’ll live.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah but you’re way worse so I’m in charge. It’s pain. I’ve dealt with it before. I can deal with it now,” you said. He leaned his head back against the pavement, looking up at the sky. “Don’t go and die on me now.”

“I’m okay. The searing pain is keeping me awake,” he said. You looked around for a car but saw no headlights in either direction. “If a car doesn’t come, it’s okay, munchkin. You’re giving me a shot I shouldn’t have right now.”

“I’m not letting go until I pass out or you’re...a car will come,” you said.

“Honey, be realistic. I’ve lost a lot of blood,” he said. “Odds-”

“I get it. You’re very likely going to die. Now stop talking like that and tell me you’re gonna be fine,” you said.

“I’m gonna be alright,” he said with a smile. “So. Anything on your mind you want to talk about?”

“I wish I went to med school but no, not really,” you said. He chuckled, shivering a bit when he stopped. You leaned over top of him, the rain hitting your back and giving him some relief from it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“Are you always this grumpy when someone tries to take care of you?” you asked.

“Quite possibly,” he said. “Well, while I have you as a captive audience, I might as well tell you now.”

“Tell me what?” you asked.

“I had no idea what I was doing most of the time when it came to you. We made it up as we went,” he said.

“You knew exactly what to do,” you said.

“I slept outside your room once. I was afraid you’d try running away again,” he said.

“Dad.”

“I didn’t even want this many kids and then we had the three and it was all good. You were never in the picture,” he said.

“Why did you want to adopt?” you asked. You were freezing and hiding the shake in your body, your dad not looking so hot himself.

“There was this young guy at the brewery at the time. He went on and became a lawyer I think. He um, we were talking one day and he told me he grew up in foster care during his teenage years. I got the jist that it really sucked. It wasn’t really even that big of a deal and I thought it over at home that night and I looked around the house and thought, we got the space. We have the means. We could do something good,” he said. “It was just an idea for a while and then one day I said to De, let’s do this and that’s how we started.”

“I’m glad you did,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. He pushed up the back of your shirt and you knew he saw the blood you felt there. “Let me see.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said, twisting your body farther away.

“You need to get help for yourself,” he said. You shook your head and he scoffed. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Make me. Oh wait, you can’t.”

“I know I can’t,” he grit out. “If something happens to you because you were trying to save me, I can’t live with that.”

“It’s a cut! I have lots of cuts and my shoulder is killing me and I know I have a concussion and my whole body hurts and I’m freezing but it doesn’t matter. Why do you not-”

“If you were where I am right now and Allie or Colin was hurt, more hurt than they’re letting on, barely keeping you alive, you think you’d tell them to save you over themselves?”

“No,” you said quietly.

“Then you know exactly why.”

“But I’m not a parent right now. I’m the kid in this situation and I am terrified. I feel like that ten year old girl that watched her parents die slow and in pain and she couldn’t help them. All I did was get bigger. I didn’t learn a damn thing in case it happened again,” you said.

“Y/N. I’m alive right now because you are saving my life. You pulled me out, you got me breathing again, you wrapped up my leg and you quite literally have your hand inside of me piecing me together. You’re doing all of this in the middle of winter, trying to keep me warm and getting hypothermia yourself, pushing through wanting to fall apart all while you are very, very hurt. You want to know what you learned?”

“What?” you breathed out.

“Even if it’s hard and it hurts, you don’t give up. What have I always said? Just try for me. It’s all I wanted. I am more than okay if this is it for me because right now, when it’s probably the hardest it’s ever been for us, you’re trying. You’re trying harder than I’ve ever seen you and that’s all you gotta do the rest of your life. Just try and it’ll work out how it’s supposed to.”

“You’re not supposed to die,” you said. Your head got dizzy and your stomach churned, your dad staring up at you. “I’m gonna throw up.”

You turned your head away quickly, avoiding him and getting the pavement beside you. Thankfully most of it was clear after you’d emptied your stomach before.

“Concussion,” he said as you got your bearings back and took the brunt of the rain again. “Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

“I think you’re in shock.”

“Probably but you’re in it too,” you said. You were shivering harder now and you saw your arm start to shake. You grabbed it with your free hand, steadying it as best you could.

“Get in the car.”

“No.”

“You’re going to freeze and go into shock if you don’t get out of the rain. Get in the car.”

“No.”

“Get in the damn car!”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you said, his face in a scowl. “I’m not leaving, you goddamn idiot. I never was. Get that through your thick fucking skull!”

“Why won’t you get in the fucking car!” he shouted. “You fucking little shit, just get in the car. Don’t make me beg you. Get in the car. Please get in the car!”

“No. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not saving myself. I’m not and you can barely lift a finger. You don’t get to choose. I do.”

“You’re going into shock. You’re gonna die if you don’t get warm right now. Get in the car,” he said, closing his eyes. “Please, tall munchkin. Please. I can’t watch you die either. It’s not how it works. Don’t make me watch that.”

“Yet it’s perfectly fine for me to have to?”

“Because kids are stronger than their parents you dumbass,” he said. “Go. Please. You did your best. You still saved me. Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because I was the person screaming and shouting on the side of the road on a cold rainy night once. I was the person that pushed and pushed and tried so hard to get you to go away. But you wouldn’t give up on me. You were never going to give up on me. It’s a decade later and now it’s your turn to learn that I was never walking away from you either. I don’t care what you want. I don’t care if this is scary for you. I was terrified of you and I believed you. For a split second I let myself believe you and that was the start for me. So you can be as scared as you need to be because I’m not giving up on you. Trust me. Please.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, nodding his head. He was silent for a beat, nothing but sniffles in the air. “I’m gonna wait as long as I can but the next time I ask you to get in the car, will you get in there?”

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“I don’t know,” you said.

“S’okay.”

He gave you a smile and you tried to return it, focusing on keeping your fingers clamped tight around the artery.

“I wrote you a song,” he said. “It was gonna be on the album.”

“You want to sing it?” you asked, another round of tears hitting you.

“I’m getting kinda of tired, kiddo,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“Dad,” you said, a light flickering off the pavement. You looked behind you and saw headlights headed your direction. “Dad! There’s a car!”

“Love you,” he mumbled.

“No, you don’t,” you said, pinching his insides tighter, getting a small wince from him. “Awake.”

“Trying to,” he mumbled again. You heard the vehicle slow down and drive around the moose, stopping when it saw you. Someone got out of the pickup, another door opening up.

“Shit,” said the one guy, running over to you. He looked at you and your dad, staring at your hand. “Okay, there’s a hospital like five minutes from here. Tony! Get my snowboard!”

The other guy grabbed a board from the back of the pickup, rushing over with it. You got what he had in mind and moved aside as best you could, the two men rolling your dad on top of it to use as a makeshift stretcher.

“Up on 3. 1, 2, 3,” said the first guy. You groaned as you stood up, your back killing you but they were walking to the back of the truck bed, having you carefully climb up as they pushed him in. Tony climbed in the back with you before the other guy got behind the wheel and took off.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Not really,” you said, Tony holding the board from moving as best he could.

“I’m Tony. That’s Ray. That your dad?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m Y/N. Please tell your friend to hurry.”

“Ray! Floor it!” he said through the back window. The truck went far faster than it should have been going but soon you saw lights and civilization again, the truck fishtailing around into a parking lot. Your dad grunted which you took as a good sign.

“We need help right now!” said Ray as he ran out of the truck and over to an entrance. A few people in scrubs came rushing out with a stretcher, Tony jumping out of the way as they got a backboard under your dad.

“You need to move, sweetie,” said a doctor but his eyes quickly went down to your hand and back up. “Get on.”

“What?” you asked.

“Straddle and get on the board,” he said. You climbed over top of your dad, someone holding your shoulders and making you yelp as you were moved backwards onto a stretcher.

“What happened?” asked a nurse as you were pushed inside.

“We hit a moose,” you said, nearly throwing up again when you saw him in the light of the building. He was covered in blood and you caught your reflection in the glass, sporting a similar look. “He was out cold for a while. I couldn’t find a pulse so I hit his chest real hard and he popped up. I think his leg is broken and he had a cut on the side of his head and his torso was gushing and he lost a lot of blood, like a lot, and I couldn’t stop it so I shoved my hand inside and that was kind of working but he’s not talking anymore.”

“Okay, people let’s focus on that torso and get some blood in our friend here. What’s his name, sweetie?” asked the doctor in charge.

“Is that Jensen Ackles?” asked one of the nurses. You nodded and she dropped her jaw. “Oh my God. You’re Y/N. That’s his daughter.”

“Okay, Y/N,” said the doctor as someone wrapped you up in the world’s warmest blanket. You sighed and smiled for a brief moment, the doctor snapping his fingers. “Y/N, I need you to pay very special attention to me.”

“Okay,” you said, the blanket peeled away as someone started cutting off your shirt. “Excuse me. Buy me dinner first.”

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” said the doctor, your eyes going to a bag of blood flowing into your dad. “Whatever you do, do not unclamp your fingers inside of him, understand? I bet it’s getting painful and you might start cramping. You gotta hold on a little while longer for us, okay?”

“Not a problem,” you said. You felt a table be moved behind you and you were guided to kneel back on it. They started cutting off your dad’s clothes and you shut your eyes. “A little warning would be nice.”

“Keep ‘em closed,” he said. You were too worried to notice much when you felt your own clothes go, a gown tugged and buttoned on you. “Alright.”

You opened your eyes, a blanket over your dad’s lap. The main doctor examined the wound your hand was in, some other ones looking at his leg and head. You saw your dad flutter open his eyeballs, jerking his whole body when he looked around.

“Jensen. I’m Dr. Bradwick. You were in an accident. Your daughter, Y/N, is right here with us and she’s helping us help you right now so let’s keep the moving to a minimum and he’s out again,” said the doctor, your dad’s eyes closing once more. “Y/N, climb back on if you’re able to. I want a scan and then send these two up to the OR. Y/N, you’re going to have to go into the operating room like this and when the surgeon tells you to remove your hand, that’s when you do it, not a second before, understand?”

“Yes,” you said.

“You have some extensive injuries yourself. You’re in shock right now which is why you’re not feeling them. Your shoulder is dislocated, you’ve suffered blood loss yourself and have signs of a high grade concussion. When you let go, you’re going to get put back on a stretcher and then we’re going to take you for a few scans yourself, alright?”

“Is he gonna die?” you asked, wrapped up in the warm blanket once again, one tossed over the bottom half of your dad.

“We’ll do our best,” he said. You nodded and after a few bandages were slapped on the two of you, you went down a few hallways, someone on either side of you keeping you steady. The shakes in your body were dying down as you warmed up some and you took your hand away from your wrist and gave one of your dad’s a squeeze.

It was small but you felt a finger move slightly.

You smiled to yourself as the blankets were taken away and someone put a big lead vest on you, covering most of your body and neck. You heard a buzzing and they took a picture of his torso, taking a few more of his leg and head too before you felt one of your shoulder be done.

“Alright, let’s send these two up,” said a nurse that stepped out. Five minutes later you were sat in the middle of an OR, people hooking up leads and things to your dad as he got more fresh blood in him. He was pale still and you squeezed his hand, not feeling any response. You scrunched up your face but a nurse directed you to look at a monitor. His heart rate and breathing were slow but they were still there.

“Good evening, everybody,” said a woman in a pair of dark blue scrubs. A pair of gloves were snapped on her and she smiled as she walked over. “Nice, cold, gloomy night out. So you must be the smart cookie, Y/N. I’m Dr. Bradwick.”

“I thought he was downstairs,” you said as she went over to a set of scans on the wall and started looking them over.

“That’s my husband,” she said with a hum. “Freddie, how’s the leg look?”

“Clean break,” said a younger man in light blue scrubs. “Needs to be set, a think a few pins and a stitch will do.”

“I agree. Bleeding?” she asked.

“Under control,” he said.

“Good. Once we have Jensen’s torso available, you can take lead on fixing the leg,” she said. “Head wound is superficial. We have a severed artery, right side of body. Let’s open, clamp what we can and then give Y/N’s hand a break,” she said. She wandered back over to the operating table, examining the wound. “Did you have any hand injuries?”

“Scratches was all. I put hand sanitizer on first if that helps,” you said.

“It actually does some. Y/N, you’re gonna sit right there until I tell you otherwise, alright? It’s probably gonna be a little bit longer but hopefully we can get your dad feeling better,” she said. “Let’s put him under.”

“What are his odds?” you asked. “Honestly.”

“The amount of time you’ve been holding him together, the previous blood loss, the lack of blood flow...real talk, it really depends on how much of a mess he is in there and how much he fights for it. He’s in the beginning stages of hypothermia which may hurt him or may help him. The human body is tricky. We will do what we can but I can’t guarantee he gets up from this table. He’s still awake. If you want to say anything before he goes under, say it now,” she said.

“Remember when I said I didn’t want a dad? But I’d take a Jensen? I wanted one. I was afraid. But then I wasn’t, because I tried, for you and for me. If you can’t do this dad, it’s okay. If I don’t, if I don’t talk to you for a really, really long time again or ever again, it’s okay. All you have to do right now is try. Just try to stick around as hard as you can. I love you,” you said. The room was quiet and you sniffled, giving the doctor a nod.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Twenty minutes later your hand was shaking, cramps rippling through it, the doctor giving you a sideways glance.

“Y/N. In a moment I’m going to have you release your hand,” she said. “When that happens, I want you to remove your hand as quickly but gently as you can. Don’t touch any of the other clamps. Owen and Derren here are then going to move you onto the table right by my right side. They’re going to move you away quickly and then you’ll be taken to the OR across the hall to repair your injuries. Understand?”

“Yeah,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m dizzy.”

“I know. One more minute,” she said. “Everyone in your positions.”

She looked around for a moment before looking up at you.

“On three, let go. One, two, three.”

You unsqueezed your fingers and pulled your hand out, wincing at the sudden pain. You felt yourself get moved and collapsed onto the table, your head swimming. The last thing you caught sight of was the floor before you were passing out completely.

When you woke up, you were in a room, a doctor writing something down on the chart at the end of the bed. You were alone aside from the other empty bed, your arm in a sling and it felt like you were laying on a wad of bandages.

“I wasn’t expecting you awake so soon,” he said. He took out a flashlight from his pocket and held up a finger. You followed it and he smiled. “Good. Your concussion appears to be doing better.”

“I passed out,” you said.

“From exhaustion, not a head injury. Your shoulder was put back in place and we discovered a few deep lacerations along your back that required stitches. You were treated for hypothermia, shock and a concussion as well. You got close to the hairy edge, Y/N,” he said. “You need extensive rest.”

“Where’s my dad,” you said.

“He’s recovering from surgery in the ICU. He’s quite weak,” he said. You sat up and closed your eyes. “You can see him later.”

“Buddy, I’m seeing him right now,” you said, swinging your legs off the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re not. He’s not even conscious at the moment.”

“Where’s Dr. Bradwick?”

“In the ER.”

“The other one. The surgeon,” you said. You tried to stand but he put his hand on your shoulder. “Buddy. Back off.”

“Dr. Kappers. A word,” said Dr. Bradwick as she popped in the door. She left with him and returned after a moment, giving you a smile. “Sorry about that. He’s not known for his bedside manner.”

“Can I see my dad?”

“I’ll do you one better. We’ll get you set up in his room,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said. You sat back on the bed and she undid a few things, soon pushing you out of the room and over to some elevators. “Is he okay?”

“He’s not great but surgery was a success. He’s going to need to take things slow for the next while,” she said. “You saved his life you know.”

“A physician’s assistant came to my school once to talk about careers. He told us a story about clamping an artery shut with his fingers. I guess I kind of remembered,” you said.

“I think Jensen owes you one for that,” she said, pushing you inside. She hit a button to go up and smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you said. “Tired.”

“Those men that brought you in showed the police where your vehicle was. I believe your belongings are at the local sheriff’s office,” she said. “Oh and we were able to get your father’s contact information. Your mom was called and she let your husband know. They’re both on their way up from the states,” she said.

“Oh God, TJ,” you said, running your hands over your face. “He’s gotta be a nervous wreck right now.”

“Nothing wrong with having a husband that cares,” she said, the door dinging open. “Alright, I know you’re gonna jump out of bed and go over to your dad the second I leave the room but I don’t want you sleeping in a chair tonight. Got it? I will send my husband to come check on his lunch break if I have to.”

“I maybe promise?” you said.

“I like you,” she said, pushing you down the hall, pausing outside a door. “He should look a lot better than last time you saw him.”

She moved the bed inside a room, your dad asleep in the bed by the window. He had a cast on his right leg and a bandage around his head, a lot of leads and tubes running from him to machines close by but the blood was gone and he did look a lot more alive now.

“Thanks, Dr. Bradwick,” you said.

“I was in a car accident with my dad when I was a kid. I get it,” she said. She plugged in a few things for you and said a nurse would be in soon to get an IV in you. You hummed when she left, getting out of bed and grabbing a chair by the window, pulling it over to him.

“Hey, dad,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Mom’s on her way and TJ too. They’re gonna smother us. That’s okay. I’m gonna stay right here until they get here though.”

For a moment you felt extremely tired and rested your head down on his unharmed leg. You used your good arm as a cushion as well, closing your eyes. Something tickled your head and your turned, seeing his hand trying to move on top of it. He didn’t open his eyes but you moved it for him, a brief smile crossing his lips.

“S’okay. Go back to sleep, dad.”

He half hummed and you felt yourself drifting off, a small gasp of air above you occurring.

“Not dead?” he murmured.

“No, not dead,” you said.

“Good.”

He was out like a light again and you smiled, a nurse walking in. She shook her head and got you up to your feet, helping you back in bed.

“Can he have an extra blanket?” you asked as she stuck the needle in. She went to a closet in the room and took one out, spread it out over him lightly, finding another one and putting it over you. She pressed a button on the little machine for the IV and you felt the pain meds kick in, sending you to sleep quickly.

When you woke up, it was morning and your leg felt very hot. You blinked a few times, spotting a black tuft of hair curled up by it. You blinked again, recognizing the navy henley and the way the hair stuck up in the back. You smiled as you ran your hand over his head, TJ slowly waking up before jolting upright and giving you the biggest hug he dared.

“Hey, babe,” you said with a quiet laugh. “Miss me?”

“Never do that again,” he said. You cupped his cheek and smiled, a wave of relief crashing over him.

“I’ll try,” you said. You looked to your right, your mom sitting by your dad’s side, watching him sleep. She got up when she saw you awake, walking over and hugging you. “Hi, mom.”

“TJ’s right. Never do that again,” she said.

“We’re fine,” you said. “It looks worse than it is.”

“The doctors told us what happened,” she said. You turned away, smiling at TJ.

“Where are the kids?” you asked.

“JJ watched them last night and the Pads were taking them today,” he said. “Zepp flew home. Jared picked him up at the airport.”

“Sorry for ruining your guys trip,” you said, your mom shaking her head.

“It’s fine. We’ll go on another one. I’m just glad you two are still here,” she said.

“We’re fine.”

“He should be dead. Maybe even you,” she said. “Please do not say you’re fine.”

“Mom. Last night was quite possibly the most traumatic thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t even know how to describe...I’m not gonna tell you everything that went down or was said. Dad is alive and so am I. We’ll get better. I’ll be better really soon even. It’s all there is to it.”

“They said you had your hand in him,” said TJ.

“Yes, I did. Not as exciting as it sounds,” you said.

“Hurt like a bitch though,” you heard chuckled from the bed nearby. All three of you turned towards him, getting a sleepy smile in response. “I’m starving. We never got dinner.”

“I will go find you guys some food, pronto,” said TJ. He gave you a kiss before he left, your mom returning to her seat and staring at your dad.

“I’m fine,” he said, getting a hug and kiss from her.

“Don’t go yet,” she said quietly.

“Not going anywhere, honey,” he said. He looked over at you and smiled. “Not if I can help it.”

Two Months Later

“I’m going to grab another beer,” said TJ. He got up from his seat around the fire pit in the backyard and you waved a finger, your dad giving one as well.

“De, mind grabbing some stuff to make hotdogs?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said. They both head inside the house, your dad quiet as you both watched the fire. He scratched his stomach and you saw him lift up his shirt, glancing at the red line across his abdomen.

“You could get a tattoo,” you said. “To cover it up.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “What does bother me is the fact you risked your life for mine. You have children.”

“So do you.”

“Y/N. You’re young. You have your entire life ahead of you.”

“Adults have feelings, dad. You don’t get to love me more than I love you. You don’t get to put a cap on that for me. I am a parent. I do understand where you’re coming from. I do. But abandoning and giving up on you was not going to happen.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you didn’t give up on me.”

He looked down to his lap, pursing his lips.

“I hope we’re never in that kind of situation again but dad, I can’t promise you how I’m going to act. I know it’s your job to protect me. Don’t be mad at me for doing it back every once in a while is all.”

“I’m not mad, kiddo. I just want you safe.”

“Me too,” you said. He gave a quick smile, slumping down in his chair. “You busy tomorrow night?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m gonna take you out for our dinner we never had,” you said.

“Just us?”

“Just us,” you said. “That okay?”

“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it,” he said. You tucked your feet up under you, closing your eyes briefly. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You did it first,” you said.

“There’s my sap,” he chuckled.

“Shut up, dork,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“You’re still smiling,” he said, hearing the backdoor open. “You good, kiddo?”

“Yeah. I’m good, dad.”

You smiled and looked down, spotting a big looking bug by your feet. You jumped out of your chair and he laughed, getting to his feet and stepping on it with his shoe. You looked around for any more, a grin spreading across his cheeks.

“What?” you said, brushing yourself off.

“I still got it,” he said, taking a seat and pulling you down into the chair with him. “No creepy crawlies over here.”

“There better not be,” you said as TJ and your mom returned.

You weren’t too hungry for a hotdog but you took a bite of TJ’s after he’d cooked one over the fire. After a little while the four of you grew quiet and a few crackles of the fire filled the night air.

“I’m exhausted. I’m going to head up to bed,” said your mom with a yawn.

“Night,” you said.

“We won’t keep Jensen up too long,” said TJ.

“Rascals,” he said. “I’ll be in soon, honey.”

Your mom hummed as she headed up into the house and TJ slumped down in his chair, watching the fire. He wiped at his face after a moment and started rubbing his eyes. You shifted a bit to get a better view but he kept rubbing.

“Get some ash in there?” asked your dad. He just shook his head and you sat up.

“Babe,” you said as it hit you. “He’s crying.”

“Am not,” said TJ, his voice giving him away.

“Hey,” said your dad. “Come here.”

TJ shook his head and your dad got up, dragging TJ over to the other side of the oversized chair. You turned to your side, TJ looking out to the yard.

“Hey,” said your dad again. “If you won’t look at me, at least look at your wife.”

TJ sniffled and turned his head over to you with a swallow. He looked at your dad quickly before settling back on you.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” asked your dad, putting his arm around his shoulders.

“It just hit me right then that if that truck hadn’t shown up, neither one of you would have been in that chair and I’d...you guys can’t leave De and me alone like that. We’d be wrecks and there’s no way my parents would ever...my dad would be yelling at me for crying right now,” said TJ, wiping off his face again.

“It’s alright,” said your dad, giving him a hug. TJ started to calm down and you cleaned off your face, finding TJ’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Boys...guys...there ain’t nothing manly or tough about not crying. It’s healthy. Don’t be embarrassed, TJ. You never have to be afraid to do that in front of me, okay? I love you kid. We like to rag on one another but we love each other too. You have an amazing girl. She’s stronger than she looks. You’re stronger than you think you are too. So if it ever went bad, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

TJ nodded and your dad moved his other arm back around you, pulling you both into his sides.

“You feel any better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said TJ. “Y/N’s been telling me it’s okay to get upset over the accident. I should have listened.”

“Normally it’s a wise move to listen to your wife,” he chuckled. “Thomas.”

He looked up at that, your dad’s face a little more hard.

“Are you still not speaking to your dad?” he asked.

“Not really. He asked if you guys were okay about a month ago but that was it.”

“TJ...I think it’s time you, me and your dad sat down and had a talk.”

“Why?”

“Because somehow he helped make you and a part of me has to believe that if he’s half as good as you are, it’s worth having a hard conversation.”

“He’s not like you,” said TJ, shaking his head. “He won’t be happy.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s happy or not. I will make that very clear to him. You want to disagree with your child, that is okay. But Y/N, she’s not afraid to talk to me. A long time ago, before you were around, she was. She was afraid of me and I was afraid of her. There was a lot of crying and a lot of hard conversations, TJ. But that is why we got to the place where we are. You and I had one of those once and after that, things started to change between us, didn’t it. We’ve had conversations since about the big stuff and the little stuff. I am happy to be your dad, TJ. I am and I’m proud to be that to you. But as a dad, we’re going to have that talk with your dad, the three of us, and we’re going to give him an opportunity that he might not understand that he needs with you right now. Understand?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod.

“Good boy,” he said, kissing his temple and giving you one as well.

“I can’t imagine what he was saying when you guys were like, dying,” said TJ. You looked at your dad and smiled, getting one in return.

“Oh, we were totally cool,” he said. You rolled your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. “Weren’t we?”

“Oh, totally,” you said.

“Liars,” said TJ. You laughed and heard him let out a quiet chuckle.

“Okay?” asked your dad. TJ nodded and you heard him shift, your dad leaning back in the seat. “TJ.”

“Hm?”

“Go take your girl to bed. She’s worried and wants to cuddle you,” he said.

“Dad,” you said.

“It’s true.”

“In a minute,” you said, giving him a hug. TJ reached over and gave him one as well, you dad ruffling both your heads.

“I love you guys too. Now shoo,” he said. “It’s pretty late.”

TJ hopped up and took care of the fire with your dad. He helped him slowly make his way up to the house while you held the door open.

“How’s your leg today?” you asked.

“Glad to be out of the cast,” he said. “I gotta start a running plan next week or something to work the muscles back up. I’m so not looking forward to it.”

“I bet you are,” you said. “Night dad.”

“Night kiddos,” he said. “Y/N.”

You held back as TJ headed for your old bedroom, your dad grabbing a book off the coffee table.

“Have TJ read this. It’s for a spouse when their partner goes through a traumatic event. Spouses can get a form of PTSD without realizing it,” he said.

“You think…” you said, nodding back.

“I’m not sure. I got it for mom and it made her feel a little better. It might help him too,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said. “Dad.”

“Mhm?”

“Go let mom take care of you, hm? Maybe not be a grump about it?” you said.

“Back at ya,” he said. “Night, tall munchkin.”

“Night, dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

_________

A/N: Read the TJ’s Talk timestamp here!

#spndeanbingo #spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #spn fanfiction #jensen x

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

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Anything But Mine - Penelope’s Meltdowns

A/N Penelope is quite a complex character and there’s a lot that even Florence and Daniel had to discover about her as she grew up; her sudden meltdowns being one of them.

Saturday, December 2, 2023

The mall was busy with Christmas shoppers, bustling through the stores and wide hallways decked out in tinsel and garlands and the speakers playing light Christmas music. It was a Saturday afternoon so was it was busier than normal, not to mention the additional chaos of the Christmas season. Regardless of the crowds, the mall was always so nicely decorated for the holidays, down to the four-storey tall tree that was absolutely covered in twinkling lights. The girls always loved the Christmas lights and Florence and Clementine stood at the side of the railing overlooking the huge tree.

Usually, Penelope would be right up there with them but she had been in a bit of a mood all day, refusing to wear her coat and then crying the whole time to the mall after they forced her in it. So she stood holding Daniel’s hand with tear-stained cheeks as he held her coat and they watched Florence and Clementine admire the decorations a few steps away.

They had spent a good bit of the afternoon in the mall, picking up their last few gifts for the family in good time before the mad rush would start closer to the holidays. Penelope refused to be more than an arm length away from Daniel the whole time, making him carry her until his arms were nearly ready to give out and when he set her down she wouldn’t leave him alone until he picked her back up again. Her crying was constant and she was clingy and it was putting sort of a damper on their little trip.

They had planned to go home for dinner when they finished shopping since they had just bought groceries not long before but as they made their way to the exit, Daniel suggested finding a restaurant as a treat. Clementine gladly agreed, jumping off the top of the escalator with a thud from her pink winter boots, her hand still held tightly by Florence as they made it to the foyer of the mall nearest the main downtown intersection. Daniel set Penelope back on her feet with a tired sigh as they reached the top of the escalator and she whimpered right away and reached back up for him.

“I’ve been carrying you all day, bug. You’re gonna have to walk for a bit.” he said, taking her hand without another word.

“So we’ll go to a restaurant instead then.” Florence confirmed, stopping by the wall out of the way of the crowds to slip Clementine’s coat back on her and zipped it up.

“I wanna go home.” Penelope pouted softly.

“We’re going out for a treat instead.” Daniel said with a small smile, crouching down in front of her to put her coat on.

“No.” Penelope turned away from him at the sight of her winter jacket and leaned into the wall.

“Come on, bug. It won’t be on for long.” Daniel grabbed her arm gently and turned her to face him again, trying to wiggle her arm in the sleeve.

“No!” Penelope cried, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “Go home now!”

“Even if we go home you need to wear your coat.” Florence said.

“I don’t wanna go home yet!” Clementine protested, looking between her parents, her voice loud over the music playing through the mall speakers.

“I know.” Florence assured her softly.

Daniel reached for Penelope again, finally managing to wiggle her into her coat despite her blubbery sobs and small cries in protest. He zipped it up and buttoned it up so she was basically locked in there and then he stood again to turn to his wife with a tired sigh.

“Can you manage a dinner out?” Florence asked him quietly.

“Yeah. Might trade kids with you though.” Daniel whispered.

“That’s fine.” Florence nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

To anyone else, the situation was generally calm. To Penelope, it felt like the end of the world. The sudden change in plans of going out to eat instead of home was one thing but then there was also the Christmas music that had been playing loudly all day – a lot of the songs repeating enough to drive anyone mad really – right with the noise of the crowds and the traffic now that was honking loudly from just outside the glass doors a few metres away. The lights from the city square were flashing brightly and all the noises were overlapping from inside and outside and the contrast between the loud talking of the crowd and her parents’ soft whispers made her skin crawl and her coat itched her neck like crazy and Penelope just…lost it.

She threw herself on the dirty floor of the mall with a loud scream, making a few passersby look over as well as her parents and sister as she flopped backwards onto the floor and clawed at her coat as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Oh my God.” Daniel crouched in front of her, grabbing her arm to get her up. “Penelope, stop it. We don’t act like this when we’re upset.”

That only made her cry louder, flailing on the floor as she tried to kick him away, clawing at her coat until a few of the buttons popped open.

“You are not taking your coat off.” Daniel said sternly, trying to ignore the stares of strangers as they passed and he tried to button them back up.

The three-year-old only screamed, hot tears pouring down her cheeks through wracking sobs, tugging at her coat until it looked like she was going to claw right through the fabric.

“Penelope. Stop it.” Daniel grabbed her arm to try and pull her to her feet but she flailed harder, shoving his hands away and kicking at his chest. “Penelope Magnolia! No kicking. Stand up like a big girl.”

She only cried louder, her pouted lips shining in spit with how dramatic her meltdown was as her screams echoed through the mall. Daniel was trying to stand her up but she kept making herself go limp in his arms to flop back on the floor.

“Just take it off her. It’s not worth it right now.” Florence whispered shakily to her husband as Clementine hid behind her leg.

Daniel sighed in frustration at his daughter throwing a fit in the middle of the mall, carefully reaching to start to unbutton her coat and unzip it, offering her a shaky, “Okay, okay, it’s coming off.”

Penelope visibly took a deep shaky inhale once the coat was off as if having it on was physically restricting but she still screamed, rolling over onto her stomach and curled up in a ball with her hands over her ears. Every time Daniel went to touch her she screamed louder and he looked up at his wife helplessly.

“What the hell do I do?” he breathed.

Florence directed Clementine to sit a bit of a ways away with their bags, still within arms reach but giving them and their emotional youngest some space. Florence crouched down with him on the floor, setting a hand on Penelope’s back,

“Penny, baby, it’s Mommy.” she spoke softly. “What’s wrong?”

Penelope just kept crying, hands clamped over her ears and she shrieked against the tile floors. Daniel sat back a moment and ran his hands over his face with a stressed sigh, glancing around at the onlookers that passed by staring like they were a storefront window or street performers.

“Oh my God, Dani, what do we do?” Florence breathed.

“I-I don’t know.” Daniel stammered, feeling completely hopeless as their three-year-old was having a full meltdown, feeling near tears himself.

“Should we just take her home like this?”

“Yeah.” Daniel sighed, standing up so he could bend down to pick up the three-year-old who screamed louder in his arms, earning more stares from strangers in the mall. He tucked her coat around her shoulders despite her wiggling to try and get it away from her as Florence took Clementine by the hand and gathered their bags.

Penelope screamed the whole way into the parking garage, wiggling enough that it was almost a struggle for Daniel to hold her, her hands digging her nails into his shoulder only making it more difficult for him. Florence unlocked the car and opened the back door for him and he got Penelope in her car seat, the toddler shrieking at the top of her lungs as he put her down and started to buckle her up.

Clementine was gaping over at her sister as Florence buckled her into her own car seat on the other side, confused as to what the heck was going on. It wasn’t unusual for Penelope to cry or scream when she was upset but this seemingly sudden outburst…this meltdown was completely out of left field. She cried and screamed and tried to get out of her seatbelt and smacked her hand against the window almost the whole way home, the rest of their small family sitting in tense silence. She tired herself out by the time they got to their building, wailing herself into a sleep stemmed from exhaustion.

Daniel carried her upstairs, Florence and Clementine following quietly after with their bags, taking the elevator silently together. Penelope was completely clocked out on Daniel’s shoulder, red cheeks stained in tears squished against his shoulder and her arms hanging limply around his neck. No one spoke as he carried her into the apartment and right to her room, carefully and silently undressing her and putting her into her pyjamas. It was a miracle she didn’t wake up. He stayed in her room a moment longer after he tucked her into bed, sitting at the side of her bed and watched her sleep, biting anxiously on his fingernail. Something wasn’t right with his little girl and it nearly broke his heart to think of what could be going on in that sweet little head of hers.

Saturday, November 28, 2026

After a few years of doctors appointments and specialists and finally a diagnosis, Penelope’s meltdowns and seemingly constant discomfort had a name to it. Daniel and Florence went out of their way to buy every single possible book or article on autism in girls to figure out how to make life easier for their second daughter and especially for themselves too. So, by the time three years had passed and they found themselves in a similar situation during Christmas shopping, they had a much better understanding on how to handle it.

The coat was no longer an issue since Penelope was old enough to choose her own winter coat and what she felt comfortable in but it was again, the full day of a crowded mall and overlapping noises and sensory overload to the max. She was still young at only six so she had yet to understand what she was even feeling when she felt it but the second she ripped her hand out of Daniel’s, the parents knew what was coming.

They were in the middle of the crowded hallway, like right in the middle of the crowd, when Penelope dropped to the floor with a strained sob.

The crowd moved around her, staring at her as she broke into loud tears, nearly screaming as she curled up on the dirty floor. Florence and Daniel exchanged knowing glances, having a plan already in the back of their minds from late night practice over medical articles. So Florence passed Daniel the favourite stuffed puppy she had tucked in her purse before she took Clementine and Lucy down one of the side hallways and out of the crowd as Daniel crouched down beside Penelope.

“Hey, honey. It’s okay. I’m right here.” Daniel said softly, tucking the puppy in her arms. “Puppy’s right here too.”

Penelope only cried harder, curling into herself on the floor. Her screams nearly echoed through the mall, earning dozens of stares from strangers but Daniel kept his eyes on his daughter, even as she kicked at him.

“Okay, bug, Daddy’s gonna take you somewhere quiet, okay?” Daniel carefully scooped her up, making sure she wasn’t thrashing too hard because he didn’t want to scare her but he managed to carry her slowly out of the crowd and down the side aisle after Florence and the other two girls.

Penelope’s wails echoed more in the emptiness and he slid down to the floor against the wall with the six-year-old on his lap. He set a hand over her opposite ear and pulled her head against his chest to block out any noise for her and then stayed absolutely still. No loving back rubs or soft hums that he was so familiar with doing as those would just trigger her more. Just silence.

Florence sat with Clementine and Lucy only a couple feet away, watching him nervously as Penelope still cried in his arms. Daniel held her snugly, the slightly weighted stuffed puppy resting on her lap and the secure hold of his arms around her already started to calm her crying a little. When her wails turned into soft cries, Daniel and Florence exchanged wide eyed glances from where they sat apart, watching their daughter start to calm herself down.

Penelope soon quieted down into soft sniffles and she picked up her puppy to cuddle into her chest. Daniel carefully took his hand from over her ear, running his thumb softly over her cheek before tucking his arm around her.

“There you go.” Daniel whispered, kissing her head as he held her against his chest. “Daddy’s got you. You’re okay.”

Penelope, now embarrassed as she was coming down from her uncontrollable meltdown, shifted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. Daniel tucked her legs around his waist and held her close, looking over at Florence again with a small sigh.

“How about we go get some ice cream?” Florence suggested. Clementine and Lucy cheered with agreement and Penelope lifted her head up long enough to share a cheeky smile with Daniel.

“Yeah! Let’s go get you a big scoop of chocolate ice cream, okay?” he smiled at her, pressing a sweet kiss to her tear stained cheek.

#this ones been in drafts for MONTHS #so here lol #daniel seavey #why dont we #daniel seavey imagines #daniel seavey fanfic

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 4 years

Text

First Christmas

Just fluff. This was inspired by one of Raul's SVU master interview he did and he was wearing a bracelet.

Warning: slight language.

Enjoy x

"Do you have to go out dressed like that when I'm not there? I'm tempted not to let you go and keep you all to myself”

Rafael had his arms wrapped around your waist while you were trying to finish getting ready to go out. It was your first squad Christmas party, the first work thing without Nick and your first Christmas with Rafael.

Your lease was ending in your apartment after the New Year, so you started to move your stuff in slowly and mix your things in with his.

You guys had a small Christmas tree up and a beautiful big wreath on the door. Your Mum was coming to the city for Christmas and Boxing Day, staying at your apartment during her time here. This was the first time Lucia and her would be meeting. You and Sonny were having Christmas off, but you were both working over the New Year’s.

"I'll only be a few hours Rafi, then I'll be home and all yours" you spun around in his arms and kissed his nose.

"Well don't drink too much, and if you need me to come and get you just call"

He started to run his hand up your thigh along your stockings up under your dress, while he was kissing your neck.

"Rafi-I have-to-finish-oh Raf." You moaned as he kissed your neck and cupped your core through your stockings and panties.

You had black stockings on with a red long sleeved dress that came to your mid thighs, with a scoop neck and an elastic waist, black ballet flats, your hair was down curled with a piece of holly pinned in it. He kissed his way up your neck to your ear,

"Sure I can't make you change your mind and stay? You’re like a present that needs to be unwrapped" he whispered in your ear and you bit your bottom lip. Before you had a chance to answer, your phone rang, it was Amanda,

"Hey Amanda"

"Hey Y/N, I'm down stairs"

"Ok be right there" you smiled at Rafael, he rolled his eyes taking his hands away from you while you hung up.

"She sure knows how to cock block me doesn't she" you laughed cupping his cheek.

"Don't be like that Rafi, we will continue this when I get home" you winked at him.

Liv had booked a table at one of the best Italian restaurant in the area and then you guys were going to go out drinking and dancing. No one had to work the next day, but you were all on call just in case. To add a little bit of fun because it was Christmas, you all decided to dress in red or green. You all looked so festive.

You and Amanda got to the restaurant first and waited for everyone to come. Once you guys were shown to your seats, you all seen the table was set for 6. You were sitting next to Sonny, Amanda was across from you between Liv and Fin, with a spare seat next to you placed.

“Are we expecting someone else?" Amanda asked.

"Yes, me" you knew that voice anywhere

"Rafi" you smiled as you looked up.

He was dressed in a black suit with a white button down, with a red scarf and his brown over coat. You got up from your seat and pretty much jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and you kissed him hello.

"Hey Hermosa" and he kissed you again.

Rafael said hello to everyone and took his seat on the other side of you.

"Glad you made it Barba, Your just as much part of the team as the rest of us" Liv smiled and Rafael looked at you with a wink and a smirk.

You guys all ordered entries and dinner. And your drinks arrived.

"I want to do a toast" Liv started "I think of all my years at SVU this one has to have been one of my favourite. We had two new squad members join us and it was like they had always been here. We had some tough stuff happen, we lost someone we all loved very much. But we also had a lot of good stuff happen. I wouldn't want to be walking through tough stuff or the good stuff without you all by my side. Cheers" you all clinked your glasses.

Dinner was amazing and you all decided to go to a night club one block down. Excitement filled you when you saw what club it was. It was a retro club that mostly played 80's music. You had been wanting to check it out with Rafael but something always came up the nights you wanted to go. Little did you know, he actually suggested to Liv that you guys should all go there tonight after dinner because it was so close.

It was cold outside, so you guys walked quickly to get to where you needed to go to get back inside. Rafael had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you guys were walking behind the others.

"Rafi?"

"Yes Hermosa?"

"How long ago did Liv invite you to tonight?" He laughed

"About 2 weeks ago. I wanted to leave it as a surprise" you giggled

"What if I had turned around earlier and said I would have stayed home with you?"

He lent close to your ear

"I would have made it worth your while. But now you will have to wait till we get home" he gave you a cheeky smile.

****

The lead up to Christmas went fairly quick and was there before you knew it. Nothing major had come in by Christmas Eve so Liv gave you all the nod to leave early, which worked in your favour. Sonny offered to go with you to the grocery store to pick up some last minute stuff for Christmas day.

Your Mum would be in New York late that night, but would be at yours and Rafael’s in the morning. You and Rafael had promised to go to Lucia’s for Christmas Eve dinner, then midnight mass, then she would be at your guys place for Christmas lunch. You had all decided no presents this year, you all just wanted to spend time together. But you did organise a couple of small things for Rafael that he didn't know about.

"So Y/N, your Mum's are meeting uh? Are ya nervous?"

"Not really Sonny, I think they will get along. It's just a big step you know. Moving in together and then mothers meeting during Christmas"

Sonny patted you in the back, "It will be fine."

Sonny drove you back and helped you take the shopping up and you turned on the jug to make him a coffee. Sonny was no Nick, but you had a cute little brother sister bond thing going on. You made the coffee and you both moved to the dining table.

"Ya know- I'm no Nick. They are big shoes to fill you guys were tight. He was your best friend. But I'm glad I was partnered with you. Not that there is anything wrong with Fin or Rollins. But we make a good team" you giggled.

"Sonny I'm glad you’re my partner, you’re a great person and you are one of my best friends, I trust you with my life." you smiled at him. A big smile came to his face.

"Same Y/N"

****

2am you and Rafael finally made it home. Dinner as amazing at Lucia's and midnight mass was beautiful. You both made your way to bed, knowing you had to be up early to start cooking for lunch.

Your Mum came early and helped you guys. You went into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. As you walked out, you could hear your mum and Rafael talking in the kitchen,

"Well you have my blessing Rafael, when the time is right you do did. I think what you have planned she is going to love it. I couldn't have picked anyone better than you if I tried"

Butterflies filled your tummy and a smiled pulled to your face, but you were pulled out of the feeling when there was a knock on the door.

Christmas lunch couldn't have gone any better. The mum's got along amazing, and Lucia had invited you all over the next day for Boxing Day for a Cuban meal. Lucia offered to drive your mum home and they left around 10. Everything had been cleaned and Rafael poured two glasses of wine.

"Hermosa, the wine is ready"

"Coming" you walked out of the bed room with two gifts and you sat next to Rafael, he looked at the presents in your lap.

"Hermosa, what did we say about presents this year?"

"I know, but they are just something small and it's our first Christmas together"

You handed them over to him.

"Open the rectangle one first" you smiled at him.

He ripped the paper off and a huge smile pulled to his face. It was a framed photo of you and him from your first date. It was a selfie you had taken. His arms were around your waist, you had one arm around his neck. You were cheek to cheek smiling hard. He looked up at so happy.

"You don't have many photos here, so I thought since I'm moving in we needed a photo of us around"

"I love it Hermosa, thank you"

"Don't thank me yet, you have another one to open"

He put the photo on the coffee table and started to unwrap the smaller square box. His eyes filled with tears when he seen the gold ID bracelet sitting inside. He pulled it off the pillow, looking at it closely. On the top of the bar it had 'Rafael' engraved on it, he turned it over and on the back 'I love you always'

He lent over and kissed you light on the lips.

"Here, I'll put it on for you" he looked at it shinning on his arm once you clipped it up.

"Well I'm glad I got you something as well" you both laughed.

He pulled out a small green velvet box from his pocket. Your tummy filled with butterflies. He turned his body towards you.

"Mi Hermosa, I have never been as happy as I have been the last few months. You’re the love of my life and I want to grow old with you. In this box is something very special. It was Abuela’s and I want you to have it as my commitment to you" he paused "This is a commitment ring. I'm committing to you that one day I'm going to marry you and have a family"

Your eyes were filled with tears as he opened the box, it was a sliver band with a blue square cut diamond with two small white square stones on either side. He pulled the ring out of the box and handed it to you.

"I want you to read what's engraved on the inside"

You moved the ring to the light 'Only You' was on the inside of the band. Tears fell down your cheeks, he took the ring off you, grabbed your right hand and slid the ring onto your ring finger.

"I'll never take it off Rafi"

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redhoodedwolf · 4 years

Text

A Week-ish of Sterek Fics

Hello all! So I recently accidentally fell back into my AO3 bookmarks and have fallen down a rabbit (fox? eh?) hole that leaves me entirely unproductive and sleep deprived but full of feels, so I thought I’d share all of the fics that I’ve rerereread thus far in the last week (it’s over 75 guys) (since friday 😬). Each has the fic name and description, length, and year pub/finished because it makes me feel old. Also all of these are complete because I am weak and cannot handle WIPs.

Note: I’m not adding any tags to the descriptions, so make sure to read the tags and ratings on each fic first before reading!!!

Teaching Derek How to Text (and Other Shenanigans) by neilwrites | 9K | 2018

yo derek Who’s dying

---

I see your 'Derek doesn't have a phone' line and raise you 'Derek has a phone, he and Stiles text all the fucking time.'

The Hoodie by ladiekatie | 1.7K | 2017

“You shouldn’t be able to see me. What are you?” The guy in the hoodie says, the ball of energy grows hotter under Derek’s chin.

or the one where Derek is just trying to talk to the guy at the back of the subway.

Nothing You Could Say by SylvieW | 13K | 2016

Stiles’ second year of college is not working out as he planned. He rarely sees Scott, his job is exhausting, and to get home after his shift, he has to walk at three in the morning. Nearly getting mugged is the icing on the cake, but luckily a gruff stranger is there to rescue him. But now Stiles can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s not alone in the dark.

Old Traditions, Werewolf Edition by Footloose | 3.6K | 2014

Stiles does not work his Omega ass off to attract frat boy Alphas. Absolutely not. He's at college to get his degree. If he's crushing on an Alpha who never crosses the lines of propriety, well, no one needs to know, right?

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup | 14K | 2016

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles...what are you doing right now?”

***

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

third time's the charm by stilinski | 4.9K | 2016

Sure, Stiles has a mark on his chest that belies the depth of his feelings, but it's not something anyone can see unless he decides to show it, or unless werewolves suddenly have x-ray vision.

Which—worrying. And probably-definitely-likely a possibility – if it was to manifest anywhere, Beacon Hills would be top of the list.

Stiles almost turns around there and then to ask Scott how his visual acuity is but is stopped by the teenager at the register finally looking up long enough to spot Derek. Stiles watches her mouth fall open and her expression—studiously blank but with a faint flush rising in her cheeks—is one Stiles knows far too well, particularly when faced with Derek in all his snug-fitting-jeans, v-neck-wearing, canvas-jacketed glory.

Stiles is pretty sure he invented that expression.

Ukochany by VincentMeoblinn| 34K | 2016

Derek comes home to find a mail order husband and two amused betas waiting for him. When he realizes their prank was far from harmless he ends up saddled with a husband who barely speaks English but insists Derek is the love of his life. He's also determined to win him over.

only if for a night by stilinskisparkles | 3.2K | 2016

“I’m Stiles,” he says breathlessly.

“Derek.”

“Derek, hi, do you—”

Derek doesn’t let him finish, kisses the words right out of his mouth.

Hypothetically by alisvolatpropiis | 6.6K | 2015

Stiles holds his hand up to shield his eyes from the sinking sun, its orange-yellow light reflected infinitely across the vast, calm ocean. As utterly stunning as the sunset over the Pacific is, especially while floating leisurely on a surfboard a few hundred feet from shore, it’s a mere backdrop that pales in comparison to who he’s looking at.

Derek Hale, whose eyes are their own oceans that Stiles feels like he’s been floating on since the first time they met. The older man’s eyes are as ever-changing and colorful as the sea they’ve spent the day on, a palette of greens and blues filigreed with gold around the pupils. And if that weren’t enough, the rest of Derek is also transcendentally exquisite: high, arching cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, although that particular perfection is a bit obscured these days by his ever-thickening beard, night-black like his hair, nearly shoulder-length but almost always knotted in a messy bun at the crown of his head.

sincerely, derek by stilinskisparkles | 8.1K | 2016

September, 2009

Hi Stiles, it’s Derek. Derek Hale, from space camp. I’m writing this in English because my teacher Ms Grady said I had to write about my summer, but I spent my summer with you, so I decided to write to you, instead.

Please write back. Love from Derek.

Pancakes and Murder by Amethyst Shard (AmethystShard) | 14K | 2012

Stiles' life has been a roller-coaster filled with awesome highs and terrifying drops ever since his best friend Scott got bit by a werewolf. The ride hits a bump when a dead body turns up at the Hale house (again) and Derek's only alibi is Stiles. Which would be fine, except that Stiles' dad is the sheriff and has no idea his son has been hanging out with the former fugitive. Awkward.

The Witching Hour by MellytheHun | 8.2K | 2016

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born

Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs (Series) by MellytheHun | 11K | 4 Works | 2016

This series started with this Tumblr prompt, "it’s the middle of the night and i’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and i found this phone booth with a lock on the door and i tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly i accidentally dialed the wrong number and i don’t even know you but help me” au

Stiles is walking home when he's stalked by a dangerous stranger and an even more dangerous stranger comes to his rescue.

Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill | 32K | 2013

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

You are the Moon by skoosiepants | 10K | 2012

Stuff Stiles doesn’t like to deal with first thing: hot, moist dog breath in his face, a cuddly werewolf creepifying his perfectly normal morning wood with shades of bestiality, and his dad holding his service revolver up against the skull of his bedmate, never mind the fact that his bedmate could possibly be a vicious unhinged rogue omega.

Baby, you should stick around by ElisAttack | 9.5K | 2016

Derek's driving along a stretch of highway when an unusual sight makes him slow down, the engine of his old pickup rattling in protest.

There's a kid standing by the side of the road.

It's the middle of nowhere, the goddamn apocalypse, and this kid is standing by the side of the road with his thumb pointed skyward. Like he's playing at being a hitchhiker.

Or the one where Stiles thinks he's all alone in a post-apocalyptic world, until he meets Derek.

Don’t Be Anything But Okay by skoosiepants | 4.8K | 2016

“Oh my god.”

Ben pops open the car door and says, “Please don’t embarrass me, Dad.”

Stiles flaps a hand, still staring at the magnificent sight before him. There are glistening arm muscles and a sweaty tank top and then the vision bends over and holy god. He has to look away; it’s too much to take in all at once, he might swoon.

OR-

Stiles has a teenager and Derek has a plant nursery.

covalent bonds (Series) by HalfFizzbin | 9.2K | 3 Works | 2015

Derek's a hot nerd. Stiles is a nerdy jock. A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES.

Disappear Here by AgnesBlue | 28K | 2016

Stiles was quiet. “What?” Derek said again. “My first heat is coming up soon,” Stiles said at last. Derek closed his eyes, disinterested. He knew where Stiles was going with this. “I was thinking…hoping, really,” Stiles said. “Maybe you could stay with me during that time.”

AU in which wounded in a fire that killed off his entire family, Derek wants nothing more than to be left alone as he finishes off his senior year in high school. That all changes when omega Stiles Stilinski asks him to help him through his first heat.

Money Isn't Everything by TroubleIWant | 6.3K | 2015

Stiles slurps at the dregs of his iced hazelnut latté, pretending he doesn’t need a refill just yet. Supporting your local business is great and all, but Isaac charging $5 for a coffee with syrup is highway robbery. He’s already cut his expenses down to the bare minimum, and splurging for foofy drinks is not in the budget. Except that he can’t really help himself: black coffee is plain gross. Maybe I should plan on marrying rich, he thinks darkly.

Or,

Stiles has a huge crush on the super-hot guy he always sees at Isaac's coffee shop, but when he finds out that they guy's an unemployed orphan he has to decide if the difference in their financial situations is a deal-breaker, or just a bump on the path to true love.

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock | 21K | 2014

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

you and me (and my best friend) by trilliastra | 1.5K | 2016

“Come on, I shouldn’t be the only one having orgasms. Let me help you out.”

“Uh –” someone clears their throat and Derek jumps, startled, hits his elbow on the wall and curses, “am I interrupting something?” Stiles asks, cheeks red.

Derek looks up, sighing. Of all the people working in this damn school, Stiles had to be the one to catch him and Erica talking about sex. It’s just Derek’s luck. He spills juice on his pants? Stiles walks into the classroom; Laura starts yelling at him about something that happened when they were kids? Stiles is right behind them, waiting for his coffee; Boyd accidentally throws a ball at his face? Stiles is at the E.R. when Derek gets there with a swollen face and a broken nose.

The universe hates him.

Easy Alpha by interropunct | 4.6K | 2012

Easy A/Teen Wolf AU. Wherein, Derek Hale is the high school hussy, Jackson and Scott really need to learn to use their inside voices. And, contrary to popular belief, everyone is still a virgin.

Body Language by LadyMerlin | 2.3K | 2016

In an alternate universe, soulmates exist, and they can communicate with each other by writing on their own skin.

The catch? No one knows their soulmates' name. It could literally be anyone under the sun, and Stiles just doesn't have that kind of patience.

chantes une nouvelle chanson pour moi by pr1nc3ssp34ch (dallisons) | 13K | 2013

Stiles Stilinski has been at Hogwarts since his first year, okay. That's six years of experience. He knows how Hogwarts works, how it operates. He's not quite an expert or anything, but he's pretty damn sure he knows this school.

So why the hell have they waited like a million years to start taking transfer students?

And why is he the only one who can't get a French date?

C’était Salement Romantique by Swing Set in December (swing_set13) | 2.2K | 2015

The Triwizard tournament is really about fostering wizarding relations. Ask anyone. Just not Stiles, he’s busy French kissing Derek.

Hogwarts really should teach some linguistic classes.

The Long Way Home by MyChemicalRachel | 19K | 2016

Stiles didn’t plan to sleep with his best friend’s dad. It just kind of happened. And then it happened again. And again. And again…

All that once was, remains. by countrygirlsfun | 8.8K | 2016

Life is only a long list of constants.

Being a part of a royal family, being a prince, has been a constant in Derek Hale’s life since he was born and swaddled in silk cloths.

Wherein Derek finds himself in love with a stable boy who is more than he seems.

Driver's Education by arrowofcarnations | 9.2K | 2014

This is the moment he realizes he can never have Derek Hale – that he was stupid to ever think he could. Maybe their moms made them hang out when they were little and maybe they’ve managed to get along these past few weeks, but they’re too different. Derek’s cool, he plays a million sports, he drives a Camaro, he’s friends with Jackson. Stiles doesn’t fit into the equation and he never will.

Letters by ericaismeg | 8.9K | 2014

“Stiles, this is getting ridiculous. Can you please do something about it?” Lydia demands. “Do anything. I don’t care. Go up and kiss him, ask him to prom this year, write him secret admirer love letters, whatever. Just do something.”

***

OR: The one where Lydia sets up an email account for Stiles to "confess his love" for Derek. And as fate would have it, they also end up becoming friends in person at the same time.

We're One of a Kind (Like Dip Da Dip Da Dip Do Whap De Dobby Do) by orphan_account | 3.5K | 2012

Derek is your classic greaser—with a leather jacket, a hot rod, a hot bike, and a duck butt. Genim “Stiles” Stilinski a total fream—he’s too cool to be a poindexter but he’s so far from a cat that Derek almost feels bad for him. All that’s missing in this love story is some oddly perfectly timed musical numbers.

do it for our country by HalfFizzbin | 936 | 2012

In which Derek tries to play it cool but Stiles is totally hep to his jive.

Fast Times At Clairemont High by MonsieurBlueSky (MyChemicalRachel) | 6.9K | 2016

Stiles is stoked when he's chosen for an undercover operation to take down a drug ring. He's less stoked when he discovers that he'll be posing as a seventeen year old student at the High School where Derek teaches.

It's Too Early For This by thepsychicclam | 4.9K | 2016

Derek loves his job at the coffee shop, especially because Stiles comes in for coffee before early Saturday morning lacrosse practices. The problem is that Derek is too shy to do anything about his crush, and the situation is not helped by the rivalry between the basketball and lacrosse teams.

A Tentative Truce by Inell | 8.5K | 2016

Stiles and Derek have a long standing rivalry that has extended beyond the Beacon Hills High School theater department to every other area of their high school lives. With the announcement of the winter production, their competitiveness has to be set to the side so the musical can be successful. With a tentative truce in place, Stiles unable to ignore his growing infatuation for his co-star.

we keep living anyway by bistiles (alis) | 10K | 2015

“Oh, damn, my manners. What an example I’m setting, am I right? I’m Stiles Stilinski, but call me Stiles, please,” Stilinski extended his hand for Derek to shake, and Derek took it, feeling the solid grip and the long fingers around his own hand. For some reason, he blushed on the spot.

“Derek. Derek Hale. Call me just Derek,” He answered, still holding Stiles’ hand in his.

By the look on Stiles’ face, he felt much the same as what Derek was feeling, whatever that unnamed reaction was.

“And this little barnacle attached to me,” Stiles continued, letting go of Derek and flushing pink, “is Leigh.”

Stiles is struggling to raise his only child all alone, while dealing with financial problems, a new job, and Adrian Harris, the worst boss in the world.

But then he meets Derek Hale, a dreamy co-workers, and what is a terrible situation becomes considerably less grim, when he has Derek by his side.

Don't Judge a Derek By His Cover by captaintinymite (augopher) | 4.5K | 2015

Stiles doesn't care about the rumors surrounding Beacon Hills High School's resident bad boy, Derek Hale. In fact, he thinks the rumors are total crap. Of course, being secretly in love with someone has a way of clouding one's judgment.

However, he knew for a fact that Derek liked books. So when the two paired up for a final English project, he was excited (but also a little terrified).

But you know what they say...never judge a book by its cover. The same goes for people.

sometimes fate is like a small snowstorm by thepsychicclam | 8.1K | 2014

In a coffee shop two days before Christmas, Derek meets Stiles. Despite neither of them being interested in relationships, they spend an unforgettable evening together, but then part ways. During the following years, Stiles competes in the Olympics, Derek tours the world - and neither of them forget. Then twelve years later, two days before Christmas, Derek finds Stiles in that same coffee shop.

aka a kinda sorta serendipity au

should the pillars of memory topple out of my reach by bleep0bleep | 4.3K | 2015

If Stiles didn’t know any better he’d say that look in Derek's eyes is adoring, but he does know better, and also amnesiac Derek thinks they’re married. Which is the only fact he hasn’t questioned so far, which is the weirdest thing.

Just High School by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 4.5K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been dating for some time.

The only thing is, nobody else really knows.

Tis The Season Baristas Fear The Most by stilinskisparkles | 5.4K | 2012

Scott is hands down the worst barista Derek has ever hired. But it's Christmas and apparently that means something to some people.

Mind Reading Can Be Such a Pain in the A** (Series) by Fanhag102 | 21K | 2 Works | 2015

Derek Hale can read minds. If he could have chosen a mutant power for himself instead of being given one by random, genetic happenstance it's safe to say mind-reading would not have been his 1st, 2nd, or even 96th choice.

Maybe if he'd gotten the power of invisibility he wouldn't be sitting in a senior Economics class next to a hyperactive kid with a buzz cut who won’t stop thinking about dicks.

A Criminal and His Lucky Charm by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 5.9K | 2015

Please forgive yourself.

For what?

For allowing yourself to let someone in. For letting me love you. I didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t your fault. Derek, please, just do it. Please— please don’t drag this out.

Derek Hale valued Stiles above everyone—everything. And Stiles betrayed that. In the end, he figured if he had to die, dying in Derek’s arms wasn’t so bad. He could at least have that.

the things you said when we were the happiest we’ve ever been by foxerica (ericaismeg) | 4.8K | 2015

Derek and Stiles meet again at their high school reunion.

From Dirty Paws by Surreal | 9.9K | 2014

Stiles finds a wolf in the woods. Well, it's more like the wolf finds him. Either way, he's happy to have a new friend in his otherwise boring social circle.

flawless by bibliosexual | 4.9K | 2015

“I know you and I are, like, werewolf-married, but dude, if I ever met Lydia Martin in person . . . All bets are off, is all I'm saying."

It's not like Stiles really means it (does he?), but it still makes Derek’s hands clench into claws on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, if," he says, and keeps his eyes on the road.

Those Hidden Places by Mimiminaj | 18K | 2015

He doesn’t belong here.

It’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind as he watches the new inmates spill into the cafeteria. The kid stays close to the wall, eyes scanning all the exits and skimming over the tables. If he’s trying to get a barring for his surroundings he’s doing a shit job of it, something made completely evident as Lewis shoulders him from behind and the kid almost jumps to flatten himself against the wall.

Stiles is the new inmate at Derek's prison. He really didn't expect to fall in love with the mouthy little brat.

Baseball Pants by thatfamoushappyending (betsytheoven) | 2.8K | 2015

Scott shows Stiles a picture of the new pitcher for the Dodgers, and Stiles is suddenly an avid Dodgers fan.

While You Were(n't Quite) Sleeping by mikkimouse | 13K | 2015

Scott’s mom, Melissa, had given Stiles the basics on Derek’s condition when he’d first come over here a month ago. Derek had been here six years, the only survivor of a horrific house fire that had killed the rest of his family. It had left him burned, half his face puckered with scars, and he’d been in a catatonic state the entire time. Stiles couldn’t even begin to imagine how awful that would be, being trapped in your own body for years on end, all alone.

Stiles had an inkling of how much being alone sucked, anyway.

(An AU in which Derek is the one who was trapped in the fire, and then in the hospital, based on a set of pictures from littlecofiegirl.)

dhale25 by ericaismeg | 8.1K | 2014

Derek Hale is an actor in Los Angeles, Stiles is a fanboy in Toronto. When Derek posts his Snap Chat username on Twitter, inviting people to add him, Stiles gets brave and adds him.

They develop a snapping relationship, and it gets intense.

I Settle for Long Distance Calls by iamursforevrmre | 4.3K | 2014

Derek is the guy who Stiles met on some random band page on MySpace because Derek made a ridiculously hilarious comment and with a spurt of confidence, Stiles had messaged him to tell him just how hilarious it was and they got to talking. Derek is the guy that made a FaceBook account just to talk to Stiles on the messenger so they could talk more when MySpace was slowly dying out. Derek is the guy that changed his text message plan to unlimited when he finally sent Stiles his cell phone number. Derek is the guy that has been on the phone with Stiles at any and all hours through the day.

And Derek is the guy that Stiles is in love with.

You look like my next mistake by Vendelin | 15K | 2015

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes.

His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to.

In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Coaches Cupcake Coffee House by ChildOfTheRevolution | 4.8K | 2013

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy, ‘It means he wants to ride the dick Stiles.’ He said slowly, as if talking to the mentally insane.

‘Ride the dick, my dick?’ Stiles asked weakly.

‘Figuratively speaking of course, Derek looks more like a topper to me. And you, my friend, are a twink of the most twinkiest standards, but I’m not one to judge.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Stiles admitted, finding himself in a weird crouch-like stance that he apparently now adopts when he’s overwhelmed about finding out Derek Hotcakes wants to bone him three ways to Sunday.

Gladiator AU ( Series) by HaleHole (SweetFanfics) | 9.9K | 2 Works | 2013

He looks up at the door and waits. He hopes that whoever it is, they will be go easy on him. Werewolf he might be, with superhuman healing, but that does not mean that he will not be sore the next day. And he is scheduled for a fight.

Let it be someone easy to please, Derek hopes. Someone who will be quick to take their pleasure and even quicker to leave. He keeps hoping this as the door is pushed open. A voice murmurs a quick set of instructions to whoever has hired him for this session. It is cut off half way through by a familiar, impatient voice that makes Derek strain against his bonds. -- Rome based, Gladiator AU

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain | 35K | 2013

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Theory of Overprotective Canines by rosepetals42 | 11K | 2015

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Hot for Teacher('s Aide) by linksofmemories_archive | 8K | 2013

“He invited you to his apartment.”

“To do a lesson plan.”

“Yeah and to probably lesson your plan while you’re there,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows.

“That made no sense, but you still managed to make it sound dirty,” Stiles said. “I’m impressed.”

The healing touch by devilscut | 96K | 2015

Stiles loses his temper with the rest of the pack when they all make excuses not to volunteer to help their Alpha. Deaton has instructed that for the next 24 hours Derek can't use his hands after he seriously injures them in a magical entrapment. Seeing the emotional hurt that Derek's selfish pack has inflicted on him when they argue and try to get out of it, Stiles volunteers to stay and then proceeds to give the rest of them a verbal ass-kicking. He then takes care of his friend, the Alpha, Derek Hale, while trying to work out what his feelings are towards the werewolf.

Quit Dragon Me Around (Seies) by WonderWolf | 17K | 3 Works | 2015

Stiles makes the mistake of taking Derek’s sword and now the grumpy werewolf seems determined to stop him from stealing and landing himself in jail.

Stiles is not pleased. He’s also starving.

(Or the one in which Derek has good intentions, but little understanding of how Dragon biology works. He just wants the cute mole-speckled kid to be safe). -----

“Five meals, Scott. Derek Hale has stopped me from eating five meals. I can’t believe he’s really trying to kill me over stealing his sword. That’s so petty of him. It isn’t like I meant to steal it,” Stiles complains.

“You kind of did mean to, dude,” Scott adds unhelpfully.

“But you don’t understand, Scott. It-”

“Just smelled so good? I know, you’ve said that like fifty times over the past two weeks,” Scott says.

“This is the equivalent of him stealing my lunch money, right? Thanks to him, I didn’t have a meal this week. Or last week! He’s a bully, is what he is. A nice smelling, douchebag of a bully.”

You'll See Me Again by matildajones | 10K | 2015

Stiles is standing there in his uniform, hair long and hands behind his back. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he can barely look Derek in the eye.

“Hey,” he whispers. He’s wearing the medal Derek had presented to him.

Derek stares. He doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.

Stiles is the soldier who saved Derek and brought him back home. He doesn't seem to care that Derek's a prince or that he's a little bit broken. Derek falls, quick and sure, but it's not easy knowing that Stiles will soon have to return to the war.

Thousand by ericaismeg | 4.2K | 2014

“Seriously, Erica, I could tell him a thousand times in a thousand ways and he's never going to understand what I mean.”

“I thought I told you to spell it out to him,” Erica says. “Derek's has trust issues. I told you this would be difficult.”

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf | 11K | 2015

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

The Wolf that whispered into Stiles' Heart by ElStark | 9.9K | 2015

Basically the Union of the prompts:

Mute!Stiles + Wolf!Derek + Soulmates/Mates AU

“Don’t you have a pack?” Stiles asks him –by then he had discovered that the wolf was in fact a male wolf –“I mean, wolves move in packs, right? Lone wolves don’t make it on their own. I read it yesterday.” He says while they’re both sprawled on the fallen leaves in Stiles’ secret-thinking spot in the woods. Derek licks his face, and Stiles laughs. “Is that your way to tell me that I’m your pack?” Derek licks him again on the nose, making the boy’s face scrunch up, “Ugh. Gross, dude!” he wipes his drool covered face with his sleeve and then gives the wolf a pointed look, “I’m not a wolf, you should have noticed, you know, I don’t exactly have fur and I don’t growl and I don’t have glowing eyes…” He says leaning in to look them closer, “Are you even supposed to have those kind of eyes? I couldn’t find anything about wolves and glowing eyes on the internet..” The wolf snorts.

Aftermath by GhostwithShotgun | 11K | 2015

Stiles suffers from PTSD and insomnia after the events with the nogitsune. He has nightmares, gets at most one hour of sleep every night and has daily panic attacks. He tries his best to hide it because they all have their own troubles and he doesn't want to burden his friends further.

Meanwhile, Derek has made a habit out of checking all pack members every night to make sure they're alright.

Cross a Canyon (with a broken limb) by theroguesgambit | 18K | 2015

“You never graduated,” Stiles says, just to say it. To test it out in the open air. That's... huh.

Stiles spends his senior year battling troll-gremlins, taking on an unexpected tutoring job, and definitely not falling for a certain sourwolf (even though everyone else seems to think he is).

It's a Schlong Story by floatingstark | 33K | 2015

"Do you like him?"

"Of course I do, he’s great!"

"Then what is the fucking problem?"

"My dick!"

-or-

Ex-Porn Star Derek Hale has a lot of issues but Ice Cream Parlor Owner Stiles Stilinski is not one of them.

Bad Dog Bakery and Café by Boom | 27K | 2015

Stiles saves an Omega from wolfsbane poisoning. Said Omega now won't leave Stiles alone. Stiles doesn't really have a problem with this.

Beat The Blues by lilpeas | 2.9K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been childhood friends since the sandpit. When Talia realises Stiles is in love with Derek, she knows Derek has to stop seeing him: Derek’s a werewolf and Stiles is human. It can’t be.

But things never go according to plan.

Red Light's Already Off by orphan_account | 3.3K | 2015

Stiles isn't a hooker. He just plays one on TV.

Noteworthy Observations by LadyDrace | 3.7K | 2015

In which Derek recieves complimentary notes in his locker from a secret admirer, and though it turns out they weren't actually for him, things turn out pretty well in the end.

One Hale of a Sandwich by whatthehale | 10K | 2014

Stiles in bed isn’t really something Derek should be thinking about.

Ever.

Because the person who normally picks Lily up from school? Is Scott.

Lily’s other parent. And Stiles’s partner.

Not to mention the entire source of Derek’s current misery.

AKA, the one in which Derek thinks Scott and Stiles are in a relationship and that they want to threesome with Derek. Spoiler Alert? They aren't and they don't.

Choice by Omni | 8.6K | 2015

Derek knows what it feels like to not really have a choice, what it's like to be manipulated. He'd never take away someone's right to choose freely. The fear of even accidentally doing so is enough to hold him back from acting on his own feelings.

Stiles has never had a problem making his own choices, and fuck anyone who would try to tell him he can't.

(Or: Stiles gets bitten by a different alpha, but of course would prefer to have Derek as his alpha. And also just, you know, have Derek.)

Emergency Love by Kedreeva | 13K | 2012

Wherein Derek is a firefighter and Stiles is a paramedic, and they just keep meeting.

gave your smile to me by Sarageek16 | 4.7K | 2013

In which Stiles is a hooker (but not really), Derek wants to feed his skinny little body, and there is soup. Not necessarily in that order.

#sterek #eternalsterek #sterek fic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fic rec list

103 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Take it Slow - Part Seventy-Eight

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“I don’t care what time it is when you land, call me and let know when you get to your mum’s.”

“I will.”

“You’re sleepin’ there, and then you’re goin’ home tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. And then you’ll FaceTime me so I can see you and Buster?”

“Mhm.”

You were being short because you were trying not to cry. Harry’s eyes were already glossy. You had an amazing week in London with him. You got to spend some more time with Anne. You got to see Mitch and Sarah again. You did a few touristy things. He drove you out to the countryside and you made love in a field. It was all so wonderful. You really didn’t want to leave.

“I wish I could walk you all the way to the gate.”

“Me too.”

You hug for a long time and look up at him.

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you too. See you in a week.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah, see you in a week.”

You kiss for a while until a police officer blows his whistle. You jump back and grab the handle of your luggage.

“Bye baby.” He says. You wave and try to smile.

Harry sighs and gets into the car. He bursts into years.

“Please, god, it was bad enough watching you two say goodbye, please don’t tell me you’re goin’ t’cry the entire ride back to your flat.”

“Shut up Gem!” He wipes his eyes.

“It’s a week, Harry! Calm down.”

“I can barely fuckin’ sleep without her, a week is a long time.”

“Do you know how co-dependent that sounds?”

“We’re not co-dependent.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m allowed to miss her. We had a really nice week.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” She laughs. “Let’s go get that ring.”

Harry and Gemma pull up to the jewelry store where he had ordered your engagement ring…that you still knew nothing about. They go inside and speak to one of the salespeople. A man comes back with the ring a little blue velvet box.

“Blue’s her favorite color.” Harry says to Gemma and she nods.

“Open it up, I’m dyin’ over here.”

Harry slowly opens it and Gemma gasps. It was perfect, and he knew you were going to love it.

“Oh my god, Harry. It’s beautiful, well done.”

It was a thick, white-gold band with a decent size square diamond in the middle. There were two smaller diamonds on either side of the larger one. Harry picks it up to look at the engraving.

“What’s it say?”

“My everything.” He squints at, then smiles at his sister who has tears in her eyes.

“Mum is gonna flip when she sees this.”

“I’ve shown her a picture.”

“I know, but to see it in person…she’s gonna cry for sure.”

Harry puts the ring back in the box and sticks it in his pocket. The two go back to the car and drive to his flat.

“So, when are yeh askin’ her? That thing is gonna burn a whole in your pocket until you do.”

“I was thinkin’ end of September.”

“Harry.” She groans. “Why wait any longer. This whole waiting a year thing is stupid.”

“Our first date was at the beginning of September, so technically I’m not waitin’ til it’s been a year. I didn’t become her boyfriend until October.”

“What if she finds it? Where could hide it? She does all your laundry.”

“I’m gonna leave it locked in my desk at work.”

“Alright, I suppose that’s a good plan. What else do yeh have planned?”

“I’m not tellin’.”

“What? Why not? S’not like I’m gonna tell her.”

“People keep givin’ me suggestions, but I’ve finally figured it out. And I’d like to keep it to myself for as long as I can.”

“You won’t even give me a hint?”

“Nope.”

“You really suck.”

He stings his tongue out at her and she sticks out hers back at him.

“In all seriousness, I’m really happy for you. Mum and I love her, and you two are a great match. I’ve truly never seen yeh so happy, Harry.”

“I’ve never been this happy. I’m glad you and mum love her, it means a lot.” Harry tears up again.

“Oh, Jesus, what now?”

“I just thought of how she might look when she’s walkin’ down the aisle.” Harry sniffles and his voice cracks. “She’ll make a beautiful bride.”

“Buster!” You exclaim as you burst through your mom’s door. He comes running towards you and you practically sob. “Mumma missed you so much! Come on let’s call daddy.” You take him into the spare bedroom and get settled. “This’ll be a treat for you to sleep with me tonight, huh?”

You take your phone out and FaceTime Harry. You felt bad because it would be around 4AM there, but he told you to call, so here you were.

“Hello?” He groans. It was dark in his room.

“Turn your light on baby, so we can see you.” You hear him shift and turn the side table light on. “Look, Buster, it’s daddy!” He yips and it makes Harry laugh.

“Hey buddy! Daddy misses you. Daddy misses mummy too.” He winks.

“Ew…don’t do that.” You laugh.

“How was your flight, angel?”

“It was good, I slept for most of it, thank god. Happy to be here with out little boy now.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he’s with his mummy.” You look at each other for a moment.

“Well, you’re one sleep down.”

“Mhm, six more to go.”

“What do you have planned for the rest of the week?”

“More family stuff, hangin’ with friends. Gonna take some pictures for people.”

“You’re working?”

“Only a little, don’t worry.”

“I just want you to enjoy your time away.”

“I will, honey.”

“Okay.” You yawn. “Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep. I just wanted to call like you said.”

“Thank you.” He smiles. “I love you, sweet dreams.”

“Love you too.” You blow him a kiss and hang up. “Okay, Buster, time for bed.”

The next morning you have breakfast with your mom and tell her all about your trip. You get Buster in the car and head home. You missed your apartment. You go grocery shopping and meal prep what you’ll need for the rest of the week.

Just as you’re settling on the sofa with some pizza, your phone goes off.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!”

“What’s up, Seth?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking of you and thought I’d call.”

“You were thinking of me?” Your heart drops into your stomach.

“Yeah…well…not to seem like a creep, but I saw you post your pictures from your trip on Facebook, and saw that you were home. Weather looked great!

“Yeah, it was an amazing trip. Um…why were you thinking of me?”

“You and I were friends once, really good friends. I feel bad that we lost touch after we graduated. I’ve loved seeing you and the girls this summer…it would be nice to hang out without a party and booze though, don’t you think?”

It was true, Seth was one of your best guy friends. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him from time to time. But you’ve rarely thought of another man while being with Harry.

“I suppose that would be nice.”

“Do you think we could meet up for coffee or something sometime?”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah…just as friends, obviously. I’m not trying to cause any issues with your boyfriend.”

“Um…not that I need his permission, but I’d have to ask how he’d feel about that.”

“Really, why? He knows we’re friends.”

“But he also knows that we’ve been more than friends…”

“He does?!”

“Yeah, it sort of came up after your Memorial Day party…”

“He just seemed so chill on the fourth, I didn’t think he knew.”

“He was on his best behavior that day. I just don’t know if he’d appreciate it…but I’ll ask.”

“I really don’t wan to cause any problems.”

“That’s sweet of you to say. I think coffee would be fine, I just don’t want to say yes until I talk to him.”

“Okay, that’s fair. Just text me and let me know.”

“Sounds good…thanks for calling.”

“Sure.”

You hang up and take a deep breath.

“I’m way too tired and drunk to walk you across campus.” Seth says, turning the TV off. “Wanna just crash in my room?”

“Yeah, that could work.” You smile as he helps you up off the floor. You tried not to sound too eager.

You follow him upstairs to his room, a room you had been in many times before, but had never slept in it. He closes the door behind you. Seth had the best room in the house because it had a bathroom attached to it.

“Want something to change into?”

“Sure!”

“Here.”

He tosses you a clean pair of plaid boxers and a t-shirt. You go into his bathroom to change. When you come back out your eyes trail up and down his body. He turns around and smiles.

“You don’t mind if I don’t wear a shirt do you?”

“Nope, your room, your rules.” He laughs and gets on the bed. You join him, not feeling nervous at all. You and Seth had cuddled before, it wasn’t weird that you were with him on his bed. “I’ll turn the TV on for a bit.”

“Thanks”

He throws an arm around you as you settle in. Eventually you both fall asleep. He woke up in the middle of the night to the TV and turns it off. You were fast asleep. He smiles and wraps himself around you, holding you close. Seth adored you, not that he would ever say that out loud.

When the sunlight of the room hit your face, you woke up. You turned over and saw Seth on his side facing you, scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and smiles.

“Hey.” He says.

“Hi.”

“Sleep alright?”

“Mhm. Comfy bed.”

He puts his phone on his night table and moves a little closer to you. He brushes some hair out of your face.

“You’re…really pretty.” Your cheeks flush. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Don’t think so, but thanks.” You smile. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

“I stayed late here on purpose last night so you’d invite me upstairs.”

“Can I tell you secret?” You nod. “I know.”

“What?” You giggle. “How?”

“I’ve seen you do it before, very clever.”

“Seth, I have a huge crush on you, and I have for a while.”

“I have a crush on you too.” His hand moves to rub your arm. “But Sarah…”

“Is with Ben, and said it was okay.”

“Really, you’ve spoken with her?”

“We talk about everything.”

“So what you’re saying is if I kissed you right now it would be alright?”

“More than alright.” You lick your lips and move closer so your noses were touching.

He cups your cheek and leans in. Your lips brush and he kisses you. You both smile against each other giggle. You roll onto your back and he moves tot hover over you. He kisses you again, neither of you really caring about the morning breath, and his tongue swipes over your bottom lip. You wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to you, his morning wood pressing into you. You moan against him.

“I want you.” You whisper.

You were insanely attracted to Seth. From his nail polish, to his tattoos, to his piercings.He had so many things that just turned you on. Not to mention that he was just straight up handsome and sweet.

“I want you, too.” He smiles. “So bad.”

He kisses down your neck and tugs at the hem of the shirt he let you borrow. He lifts it up over your head and grins when he sees your nipple piercings.

“I remember when you guys got these.” He tweaks them a little and you groan. “Nice of you to finally show me.”

Just as he wraps his lips around one of them his door flies open, and you cling to him to cover yourself.

“Max! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Sorry! I needed my…Y/N?!”

“Hey.” You say. “Could you, uh, leave?”

“Sorry!”

He leaves quickly and you both start laughing.

“That door lock?”

“Yeah.”

“Go lock it.”

He gets up and locks the door and practically jumps back on the bed.

“You sure this how you want it to go down?” He asks as he kisses down your chest, dipping his hand inside the boxers he let you borrow.

“Yes, want you so bad. Please, fuck me.”

Seth tugs down his own boxers and your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“Holy shit.” You say under your breath, but he hears you and smirks.

He gets your boxers off and tosses them to the floor. You spread your legs apart for him and he bites his lip. You reach for him and line him up with your center.

“Please, we can do all the fun foreplay stuff another time. I want you, this, right now.”

“Okay, let me just, uh, grab a condom, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

He reaches into his bedside table and retrieves the foil packet.

“Can I put it on you?”

“Yeah.” He smiles and hands it to you. “Just when I didn’t think you could get any cooler.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and roll the condom on his long, thick length.

He presses his tip against you and slowly starts to push in. A tear rolls down your cheek as he stretches you out.

“Alright?”

“Yeah, just, you’re really big.” You both giggle. “I just need a second to adjust.”

He leans in to kiss you and nips at your jaw to your ear.

“Take your time.” He whispers. “I’ve got all day.”

“Shit.” You say to yourself. “Daddy’s not gonna be happy, Buster. But what can I do? Coffee can’t hurt right?” He yips at you. You call Harry and he answers on the second ring.

“Hey, lovie.” You giggle at the term.

“Hi dolly.”

“What’s up?” He was in such a good mood, you didn’t want to sour it.

“Um, well, I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“Seth called me today…”

“Go on.”

“He wants to get coffee with me sometime soon, but…I told him I had to ask you first before I said yes or no.”

“That makes me sound a little psycho, doesn’t it?”

“He even said he didn’t want to cause trouble, I just…I…didn’t want to say yes or no before I spoke with you.”

“Do you want to have coffee with him? I mean, what’s the point?”

“Well, we used to be really good friends, and you know how it is after you graduate, you can’t stay in touch with everyone. I’d like to catch up with him one on one, without any alcohol…”

“Can you go to a place that’s dog friendly?”

“Sure! Plenty of places have outdoor seating right now.”

“Will you call me right after?”

“I don’t even know if it’s happening this week, but if it does, then yes.”

“I’m fine with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…I really appreciate you calling and asking first. It means a lot to me.”

“I just didn’t want to keep something from you.”

“Thanks, babe.”

You and Harry talk more about how his day is going before you hang up to text Seth.

“You’re havin’ coffee after work with your ex, and Harry’s okay with it?” Niall asks you the next day at work.

“First of all, he’s not my ex, and second of all, yes, Harry’s fine with it.”

“He’s an ex lover, Y/N.”

“Don’t you have to be in love for someone to be your lover? I mean Harry’s my lover if anything. Seth…I was never in love with.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“Buster’s coming with me, so I’ll have a chaperone. I’m going to be in my work clothes, so it’s not like I look sexy.” Niall crosses his arms and looks at you. “How is this sexy?! My chest is covered and this comes to my knees.”

“You’re a cute girl wearin’ a tight dress. It’s sexy.” You swat an arm at him.

“It’s just coffee.”

“I think you’re playin’ with fire.”

“I haven’t thought about him like that in years. If I really wanted him I would’ve been his girlfriend.”

“But you’re both grown now. You could-“

“Niall, please. I called my boyfriend and essentially asked his permission to see an old friend. It’s no big deal. It’s just coffee. It’s not like we’re having dinner and drinks.”

“Will you please text me when you get home?”

“Sure.”

You laid there with a huge smile on your face after you were done. It was the best sex you ever had. You were cuddled up with him. He was smiling too.

“That was fun.” He says. “You’re fun.”

“I’ve always been fun.”

“But that was like extra fun.” He kisses the top of your head. “What happens next?”

“You become my number one booty call, and you drop everything for me every time I wanna hook up.”

“You know what? That seams really fair.” You both laugh.

“In all seriousness, what do you want to have happen next?”

“I don’t know, I know I definitely wanna fuck you again.”

“Mm, me too.”

“I also know I don’t really want a girlfriend right now…is that mean to say?”

“No, it’s not mean.” You sigh. “In all honesty I don’t want a boyfriend. I really like being friends with you, I’m just really attracted to you.”

“So what we’re talking about his friends with benefits.”

“I guess so. Are you good with that?”

“I’m very good with that.”

“Good.”

You meet Seth outside a local coffee shop with Buster at your side after work. You two hug lightly, and go inside to order your drinks. You decide to split a scone, and find a table outside to sit at.

“You look so…professional.” He laughs.

“So do you! A button up and a tie? I’m shocked.”

“Hey, tablets don’t sell themselves.”

“Let me ask you something. Do your clients get thrown off at all when they see the lip piercing?” You giggle.

“Actually, it works in my favor quite a bit. It really shows that I’m comfortable with myself. As do the knuckle tattoos. Turns out my parents were wrong.” He laughs. “It also helps that I’m incredibly charming.”

“And a little narcissistic.” You sip on your iced decaf and break off a piece of scone to pop into your mouth.

“So, how long have you been with Harry, spill all the tea.”

“I gave you plenty to sip on at Memorial Day.”

“You showed me a picture of him and that was about it. Then you bring him to the fourth, and just happens to share a shocking resemblance to me.” He smirks and your jaw drops as you scoff.

“He looks nothing like you! First of all, his skin is tan, his eyes are green not hazel, big fucking difference-“

“His nails are painted, he has a ton of tattoos-“

“His tongue’s not pierced.” You cross your arms and smirk. “He doesn’t need the extra help.”

“Really, we’re just diving right into that, huh? I’ll have you know I took that out years ago.” He sticks his tongue out at you. “And as I recall you didn’t have much to say about it back then. Well you did, but they were mostly you moaning my name so…” He smiles at you and you shake your head.

“Is this why you wanted to get coffee with me? To go down memory lane?”

“No.” He scoffs. “I genuinely miss my friend.”

“And you just realized this because?”

“What do you mean?”

“Seth…”

“Okay, okay. You guys come to my parties every year, and I’ve either been dating someone or you have…”

“And I’m still dating someone.”

“That’s not what I meant. I think it’s stupid to not be friends with someone just because they have a significant other. I miss you, I’ve missed you for a long time.”

“Just me?”

“No, Rachel and Sarah too…but you and I were always closer and you know it.”

“That’s true.”

“Do you miss me?”

“In all honesty…I feel like I blocked you out of my mind. I’ve gone through a lot since graduation Seth.” He nods. “I know that sounds harsh.”

“It’s okay.” He takes a sip of his drink. “So, how did you and Harry meet?” He smiles.

“My friend Niall…Sarah’s now boyfriend, set us up.”

“Love at first sight?”

“Essentially…I mean we had one date one weekend and the next weekend we had like three more dates. He swept me off my feet.” Seth takes a bite of the scone. “He really loves me.”

“I could tell, just from the way he was looking at you. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks.” You smile. “No girls trying to scoop you up?”

“I’m in between girls at the moment…I, uh, sometimes date men.” He looks down and blushes. You grab his hand and squeeze it. He looks back up at you. “I’m bi.”

“Oh, Seth. Thank you for telling me. When did you realize?”

“After we graduated. I think I’ve always sort of known, but just never put two and two together. There was this guy I talked to at a bar one night, and one things led to another…”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. So I’ve dated some women, and some men. I can’t really figure out what I want.”

“Well, you’re only twenty-four…you have a lot of time. Do your parents know?”

“Yeah, my whole family does. There was a guy I dated for a while so I eventually brought him home to meet them. They were cool with it. My parents are from Vermont, they’re traditional but love the gays.” You burst out laughing and so does he. “I’m just sort fluid, you know? I like who I like, and I’ve just learned to go with the flow.”

“That’s really cool, Seth. I’m happy you’ve discovered these things about yourself. Not be pushy, but I do know a very nice young man that works for Harry who happens to be single and a confirmed gay.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? You setting me up?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “It’s not like we have feelings for each other…right?”

“I mean to be honest if you were single I’d totally jump your bones, but I don’t think that feeling will ever go away.” He chuckles. “We had some pretty hot sex back in the day. But, no, there’s no feelings.”

“I forgot how blunt you can be, Jesus.” You take a sip of your drink. “Harry owns his own studio, you could come by some time and I can introduce you to Isaac.”

“Isaac, aw, that’s a cute name.”

“I have a picture from him, do you wanna see?”

“Sure, why not?”

You pull up a picture of Isaac on your phone from the studio opening and show Seth. His eyes grow wide.

“Oh wow…he’s adorable.”

“So adorable! And I know he thinks Harry’s cute, so he’d think you’re cute too.”

“Oh, so this is you admitting that we’re the same person?”

“You have very similar qualities, but you are not the same.”

“Relax, I’m just teasing. You know what? Fuck it. I trust you. Oh! Then we could go on double dates!”

“Oh my god, you read my mind!” You squeal. “I can’t wait to tell Harry.”

“I’m sure he’ll be relieved I’m not a threat.”

“You weren’t before.”

“Mhm, sure.” He sips his drink. “I’m really glad we did this.”

“Me too.”

Seth walks you to your car and hugs you goodbye. You text Niall when you get home and immediately call Harry.

“Hey! Weird question, but Isaac is confirmed single right?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“I wanna set him up with Seth.”

“I’m…gonna need a little bit of context here.”

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fic #smut #fluff #idk why but loved this part #i stan seth sorry

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