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pbandjesse · 5 months

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I just finished up my ceramics class. And it was a lot of fun! I did cut myself on some glaze almost as soon as I got there and the blood was welling up very badly from my one finger but I put a Band-Aid on and I was okay.

Today was a lot of fun honestly. Kind of like a low low key day. But not a bad one. I did get stuff done even if it wasn't a ton of things. It was a nice time.

I slept all right last night. But I woke up very cold and had trouble falling back asleep because I was so cold. And then when I woke up at 7:15 I went and got washed up and dressed and I really liked my outfit today and I was perfectly cozy. Wearing a long sleeve shirt under this jumpsuit I think is going to be a staple this year. And I really love this fleece because it's so long. I can wear it basically like a dress.

James had packed me a very good snack and breakfast and lunch. And they collected all the trash before we were leaving the house. I will go down first because they said they needed a minute but then I realized I forgot all my rings upstairs so I backtracked and we got to leave together still.

We talk outside for a minute before they left and got a smooch which was very nice. And then I drove into work. And it was a fine drive. Nothing exciting happened. It is always interesting to see which exit is going to be the one where everybody else is and then all of a sudden I'm alone. And I have a pretty quiet drive to camp.

It was already very cold when I left the house today but it was like 15° colder at camp. It was 21° this morning. Crazy. Thankfully I had worn my fluffy boots and my layers kept me nice and toasty for most of the day.

Honestly at times I was too warm. But for the majority I was the perfect temperature.

No one came to work for a very long time. I felt like I was alone for so long. I got there at 8:00 and would have my breakfast while I worked on finishing up a couple things inside of the schedule that needed to be fixed. But mostly it was just some finishing work. It's not totally done and I still have everyone else to look over it before I can say that it is ready for next summer. But I'm really pleased with the progress and I fel t com to share it with everybody else.

I would also work on some feeding tonight. These are actually probably going to be Christmas gifts but it's also practice for teaching the TVs how to do feeding next summer. And some practice for different directions so that I can have a better handle on showing some adults how to do it. I'm just doing random rainbows right now but I would like to do some actual imagery. And in the coming weeks I hope to practice that.

But work on that for a lot of today. When I wasn't poking around on my schedule or thinking about programming stuff. And I was just having a nice time chilling in the office. It was warm in there and I sex and was watching a video and it was really good.

Sarah would come in a little before 10:00 and she was the first one but pretty quickly after that other people started to come in. Elizabeth and Alexi. Heather stayed home today to work on something there. And then after talking with Sarah and Elizabeth we kind of made a plan for what we would do for the rest of the day.

Elizabeth is in the middle of moving and she would leave early so that she could go work on packing. Not as early as she had planned because she got distracted by talking to us. But in the meantime she had a couple emails to send and a couple things to get ready for tomorrow's field trip. Me and Sarah were going to go set up the lodge for our group and do a couple odds and ends around camp. Alexi had a tour with a day camp not too far from here and they would come and we would all have a very long discussion with them and they were really cool. Really interested in the way that we do camp and also we were really interested in the way they do camp. I'm glad that we can have these interesting collaborations of ideas. And they seem like really chill guys.

Me and Sarah would head over to the lodge and set up all the tables. It's pretty big group so we're having all 13 tables set up but we would be pretty efficient so it didn't take too long. And then we walked back towards the office and I peeled off to go to the art building.

I have a bunch of stuff I should be putting away but I just don't want to It's too cold. So I set out some paper on the table for tomorrow and put a couple things to the side and then I grabbed the wooden box that I hope to use for the market that I found. And carry that down to the car.

When I got back down to the office I continued my bead work. I would stop and have a discussion with Alexi for a bit about the tour that she just had and some ideas for stuff that I can work on. I think she's worried that I'm going to be upset that they don't use my designs in the first draft. They can tell me to change things in a million times I literally do not care. I'm having fun designing them but I'm not going to be heartbroken if we need to change something. Not a big deal at all. And it was just a funny conversation because I think she was worried about hurting my feelings and I'm like you are not hurting my feelings that is fine. They're all living documents and we can continue to change them.

Around 2:00 I went for a walk and went down to the Glen to work on my bug snug. And I got the structure and I'm starting to fill it but there's not enough dry leaves around the Glen. Everything is too wet. So I think tomorrow I'm going to get a bag and fill it with leaves from somewhere else and bring them over. I would also like to get some more like smaller sticks and grasses but for now at least I have something done and I work on that for about an hour. Just kind of traipsing through the woods and looking for loose sticks and trying not to disturb too many covered areas so that the bugs and things that are overwintering there already are disturbed. I did find some snail eggs which was neat and just listen to music and had a nice time.

Speaking of music Spotify rap came out today and mine made me laugh because it was very expected. But it was also just Very funny to hear about everybody else's. Me and James's were pretty similar in taste. Justice was a little bit different and more poppy. Elizabeth was ruined by listening to sleep soundtracks. And Sarah's was way more Taylor Swift than I was expecting. But I really love Spotify rap and it was really cool to see what you listen to all year and get that little trailer that they make for you. It makes you feel seen and that's really nice.

for the last hour or so of work I just worked on my beating and worked on blanket stitching the edges of my little ornaments. I'm hoping to make a bunch. I plan is to get some more felt from home tonight so I'll have it tomorrow so I can work on it. But it's not a rush. It's still November. And it's also today my mom's birthday! Speaking of the end of November.

I love my mom so much and I wanted to make sure that I said happy birthday to her as soon as I get to work so I wouldn't forget. I took a picture of her birthday page in my birthday book and have been thinking about her all day and I hope that she had a good birthday. I love her very very much. She's a great mom. The reviews are in and she got 100% on the mom raring score.

A little after 4:00 I got an email about the house that we put an offer in on. It was impending sale and it was not for the price that we had offered. So I could kind of assume we didn't get it. So I texted James and asked them to reach out to our realtor. And I'm not going to lie and say that I was in the best mind space. I was a little angry because I felt like we have been doing a lot of the work of trying to find places and I thought maybe he didn't get our offer in on time or something. But it turns out we were in the top two of the five offers that were put in on the house. And the reason that the other person succeeded in getting the house was because they agreed to buy the house without any inspections. That is so incredibly foolish. Like I get it because the market is crazy and everyone just is trying to get in and we probably would have bought the house no matter what the inspection would have said but it just sucks. And I'm not going to say I'm not upset about it. I'm sad. I kind of done the same thing I did with the last house you put an offer on and built it up in my head and how we would decorated and where things would go and I just love the second floor of that house so much. So I'm sad but we're going to look at other places and it will be okay. It's just not the right one right now. And honestly there was a lot of water issues in that house that we probably were not prepared to deal with and so we move on and that's all there is to it.

As the sun went down I was sitting and talking with Alexi and Sarah would say she was going to go get dinner before our class. Alexi told me that she went to school for advertising which I did not know. I knew she went to the law school so I just assumed she was pre-law but no she went to school for advertising and that's like that's really cool. And then I wrapped up what I was doing and headed out.

I went to 7-Eleven and got pizza and a donut. I would eat one piece of pizza before my class and one pizza pizza after my class and I think that was a good call because I never felt too exhausted. And I got to class around 5:30.

I do not enjoy the drive in the dark. It is too windy and too many chances for deers and the speed limit changes up and down or 25 to 55 and it's very bad and I don't enjoy it. But I got there safely and when I parked my car Sarah was there. But she said she was going to sit in her car for a while and eat before she came in.

So I went in without her and got to work looking for my finished pieces. I had a couple glazed pieces and a couple that needed to be glazed. Have a good little rotation of stuff. When I found my glazed pieces I had to pop one off that was stuck on a tile and I cut myself on the very sharp glass. And it bled a lot. But it was fine. And I'm really excited about some of my pieces and how I'm going to use them for gifts this year. What I'm going to keep. I have decided that I don't think we'll throwing is for me. I'm much prefer hand building and sculpting and stuff but I'm glad that I did it. And so today I decided that I wasn't going to throw anything I was just going to play with the clay.

And some of that was waxing the bottoms of pieces that are going to get glazed next week and some of that was trimming my bare pots from last week. Which I love and I think are so cool. And then I had some time and I decided at 7:00 I would spend the second half of class working on the rest of my clay because the idea was that today is the last day that you can make wet stuff. But then we decided as a group that we're going to bring in a bunch of cookie cutters for next week and we're going to use any of our leftover clay and we're going to make cookie cutter ornaments. I am so excited about making these ornaments. So I put a bunch of clay to the side and then I just used a couple good size balls and I made some interesting shaped pinch pots and two candle holders and I was just having a great time just making silly stuff.

I also just really enjoyed the conversations tonight. I had my voice back so that was nice. Chloe and I believe the other man's name is Chris, we're not there tonight because I'm assuming they were sick. But Sandy was back and she's really sweet and I always enjoy talking to Sarah and Lindsey. So we had some very interesting conversations talking about authors that we enjoy and books and shows art and different projects that we could do and it was just a really really nice time. I just felt like I had a little community tonight and it was really good.

I would finish up my last little piece of clay and made a very silly cat pot. Or bowl maybe. I'm not sure. But it was a lot of fun making it. And then I cleaned everything up and decided it was time to go.

I headed back out into the very cold world. And I'm almost home now. I am still a little sad about the house. But we're hoping that we can go see something else this weekend and keep moving forward. I'm excited to go see my husband and wash my hair and go to sleep. Tomorrow we have a field trip and it's going to be a pretty quick one only being about 2 hours. And then I hope to work on my behind bug snug and who knows what else the day will hold. But I hope it is a good one. Good night everybody. Until next time.

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annieintheaair · 24 days

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Hello Weekend

I honestly can't believe that I finally made it to Friday. This week has been incredibly long and I'm so sleep-deprived that I'd probably be happy with a weekend spent catching up on sleep at this point.

I have mixed feelings about it being Friday. Of course, I'm glad I'm done flying for the week and the rest of my month should be a little easier with only three trips per week, so that's something to look forward to. On the other hand, I became so used to the normal Friday of getting home from work, working my other job, napping, going to yoga at noon, and then loading myself and the dogs into the car to drive up to Todd's for the weekend.

I considered going to Disney World this weekend just to get away and go to a happy place. I went there not long after James and I broke up and it helped to get my mind off of things and feel happy again. After that breakup, I had planned out a whole train trip around the country. I had every intention of taking it but then realized that the last thing I needed right then was to take a trip alone. I felt like I just shouldn't be alone at that time. Instead, I went to Florida to visit my childhood friend, Pat, and we went to Disney.

I couldn't find a dog sitter for this weekend but I also knew that I shouldn't be spending the money right now when I have so many things coming up that cost a lot of money (like moving).

I got home from work around 7:30am today and was able to take a shower, get some work done, and then turn on the TV and fall asleep. When I woke up, Facebook reminded me that I had memories today. One memory was three years ago when I thought about my Grandma and just missed her so much. It's hard to believe that she has been gone so long. In the post, I talked about how when you love someone, you never stop missing them. I finished the post saying:

"Hold those you love close and tell them you love them. Our time here is so limited and our time with those we love is never long enough."

I still believe all of that today. There are lots of people like my Grandma and Dan, who I unfortunately, get to miss indefinitely. All of the people who once served a purpose in your life, random things happen in your day and it just makes you miss them all over again. Somehow, it feels worse to miss someone who is still here. It's almost easier when you know they're gone because they passed away. Missing someone who still exists in this world is incredibly painful.

Another post, from nine years ago, when I first started flying, was about my work trip to Chicago where I got to explore the city and walk 13 miles in one day all by myself because my crew wanted to stay in their rooms and watch Netflix all day. That day, I fell in love with Chicago. I said in the post, "In life, if you don't go alone, you probably won't go at all." My mom commented, "I just know that in this big beautiful world, there is someone waiting to travel with you!"

That Chicago post was NINE years ago! I'm STILL waiting for someone to travel with me. Dear God, I am EXHAUSTED!

I can go back and forth -- like, I'm ok on my own. But then, I keep seeing all of these events happening and fun things to do and I'm like, I really can't do any of those things alone and even if I tried, I don't think I'd enjoy any of it because I would feel lonely. Not having Todd to do all of the fun things with really sucks.

I can't go back in time and I feel like I can't fix anything. In therapy yesterday, Jose encouraged me to try to do the things I enjoy even on my own. We talked about how it's hard for me to do all of those things when everything means driving an hour. It was one thing to do it so I could spend the weekend with Todd but it feels like a lot to do it in one day just because.

When Todd and I were looking for a place together, there was more of a sense of urgency for us to find a place. Since his lease ends in June, we knew we needed to find a place by then. My parents seemed ok with that and so that became the timeline. Now, my mom seems to think that I should stay here forever until they find a buyer because she thinks I no longer have a timeline. Regardless of Todd, and even before we had started looking at places together and I thought I'd be moving on my own (which I am now, again), my timeline was still May/June. I wanted to move before summer when it gets too hot and I really don't think I can handle another summer without a pool.

Jose agreed that I'll feel better and happier once I'm back where I feel like I belong. He encouraged me to tell my parents that I still have that timeline even without Todd. When I tried to tell my mom that last night, she became really mad at me. Coming full circle here, that is exactly how I ended up with an anxious attachment style. When you have an anxious attachment style, your feelings can feel overwhelming and as a child, you learn how to manage them on your own because you feel like, no matter how hard you try to be close to people and how much you want them to understand you and accept your feelings, people treat you like you're too much.

I've been reading the book Secure Love and it made me think about times in my childhood when I felt like I was invisible. When I was 4 I ran with a noodle on my nose and ended up splitting my head open and needing 20 stitches. This was a call for attention. The same thing happened when I jumped off my bunk bed and nearly broke my nose. All these attempts at getting people to notice and care about me and even though I know my parents love me, sometimes when someone yells at me, like how my mom reacted last night, makes me feel like I can never do anything right. In the book, they call this "getting big" because it's how we get people to notice us when we feel ignored.

All these years later, I still can't stand to be ignored. Being ignored makes me feel like I'm being punished and like I can't do or say anything right.

The book I'm reading isn't only an attempt at fixing relationships, but also better understanding myself and those around me. I'm trying to be understanding when I feel ignored because I know that people with an avoidant attachment don't know how to process emotions and sometimes need time. I can't help but feel impatient because I just want to try to fix everything but I'm reading the book and working to become a securely attached person, instead of an anxious one. I just wish someone would notice my efforts and meet me halfway.

Well, I'm off to yoga to hopefully calm my mind and heart.

xoxo

Annie

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braidedjanes · 11 months

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Kansas City MO

By Andrew Doyle May 22nd 2023 After another great trip, this time to Kansas City, Missouri, I wanted to share a little about our drive there and back, the wonderful staff at the Mexican Consulate, our stay at the Holiday Inn and lunch with artist Mauricio. Once we had figured out that Kansas City would only be an 8-hour drive from Chicago we decided to drive instead of fly. Was also going to save us a lot of money and the stress of flying, with instruments. We'll be driving to Philadelphia next month and I look forward to another trip without flying.

The road trip to KC was nice. The weather was beautiful and there was little to no traffic or construction along the way. Juny and I shared driving duties while Jessica was busy at work in the back seat.

We made it to KC in good time and when we walked into the Holiday Inn we were staying at, we saw there was a restaurant and bar right there not far from the front desk. When I had researched places to eat nearby a place called Toast came up and was rated 4.9 stars. Sounded fancy at the time and I hadn't looked up to see how far away it was, yet, there it was... inside the hotel! We loved the idea of not having to drive anywhere else after being in the car all day.

Once we brought our things to our room we went back to the restaurant and bar and ordered a drink and some food. The staff was awesome; they seemed to care about their food and making their guests feel comfortable, which was a treat in itself. I normally don't order steak but the waiter talked me into trying it and I was so glad I did. When we went back to our room it didn't take long for us to fall asleep. The beds and pillows there were so comfortable; I think we needed a good night's sleep and we woke up feeling well rested.

The next morning I got up and ran on the treadmill and worked out in the hotel's fitness center. Felt good to get my body moving after sitting for so long the day before. Toast also served breakfast so with having to be at the Mexican Consulate by 11:30am I figured it would be best to eat something there before we left. Another great meal later and we were off to the Consulate not far away. It was another beautiful day and I loved feeling the hot sun after being in cold, cloudy weather back home.

When we arrived at the Consulate, we had to walk past a waiting room where every seat was taken. I felt a heaviness and sadness in my heart. I imagined many of the people were there trying to get paperwork or even citizenship for themselves or a loved one that couldn't be there and knew it had to be hard on them. I felt a greater sense and appreciation for the people we were performing for and for what they do every day to help others in need. Feeling their warm, and welcoming hospitality has become something I've started to look forward to on these trips. There's so much to love about Mexican culture, food, and music, but the people may be their greatest gifts.

It was great to see the Exhibit up again, in a new beautiful setting. The art pieces are starting to feel like friends I get to see every few weeks. Got to meet one of the featured artists Mauricio Zuniga and hear a little about his paintings and where some of his ideas come from. Being an artist and Art History major myself I really enjoyed our conversation and learning more about how he works. Was great also meeting Soileh Padilla Mayer the rest of her awesome staff.

The performance was so much fun. There was a little boy that got up close to where we were playing and danced for most of the show. He was adorable and made it even more special. Felt great to see people dancing and tuned in. What an honor!

After the event ended, Mauricio treated the three of us to an awesome lunch at Gate's Bar.B.Q. nearby. Just the smell alone was enough... I ordered the ribs and was in pure heaven. I think we all were. Was really nice getting to know more about Maurico's incredible journey and many of his life's adventures. I can't wait to get to treat him to a great meal when we see him next Tuesday at the Consulate show in Chicago.

After lunch, we drove home. It was almost identical to the way there, as the weather was beautiful and the roads were fairly empty most of the way. We were feeling really good about our show and the friends we had made in KC. Can't for our next show and our next road trip.

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moonlit-reveriee · 3 years

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Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

#c!techno #red:moon #mcyt x reader #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt smut #techno smut

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onebourbon-oneshot-onetear · 3 years

Text

Letterkenny- 5 Times Wayne Fell in Love With You

(Not my Gif)

Notes: This was meant to be a quick little oneshot, but it ended up being five pages long. I figured since there are a few Letterkenny fics I would have to write some myself lol

Warnings: Language (it's Letterkenny, duh...), ooc for Wayne? Fluff?

1. Whenever you helped with the chorin’

- When you were sitting outside, drinking some Puppers in the sun in the middle of an afternoon

- There weren’t enough chairs, but you didn’t mind, so you took your usual seat on the ground next to Wayne so you could lean against his legs

- You had lost track about what exactly the boys were talking about, but it didn’t matter. You were just happy to be sitting around with your friends

-Wayne nudged your head with his knee and you were jolted back into the conversation

- “What do you think, Miss/Mr. y/n?” Dan asked you

- “About what?” you asked

- “Going to MoDean’s for drinks,” Daryl said

- “Sure, I’ll go. When are we going?” You asked

-Wayne gently moved your head from his leg so you didn’t whack it on the chair and stood up. - “As soon as the chorin’ is done, which I was supposed to get help with,” He said, glaring at Dan and Daryl

-You tapped Wayne’s leg so he looked down at you. You held both hands up above your head, silently asking him to help you up.

-He took both your hands and hauled you off the ground with essentially no effort because of the wonderful muscles he hid under his flannels

-As soon as you were on your feet you turned around and started marching towards some of the hay bales

- “Pitter patter, let’s get at ‘er,” You said as you left

- Your back was to the boys so you missed the smile and head nod that Wayne had thrown to your retreating figure

- “y/n isn’t afraid to help with the chorin’, and that’s one of the things I appreciates about them,” Dan said

- “Take 20% off there Squirrely Dan,” Wayne said before marching off to follow you, who was already picking up a hay bale and throwing onto the back of the truck.

2. When you take care of everybody after they’re drinking

- It was hard to imagine since you spent all your time with the group, but you weren’t a big drinker

- You would spend the whole night nursing a beer or two or doing a few shots

-You were definitely the most responsible with alcohol out of everyone

- Which meant it was very often you were stuck with the aftermath of the drinking

- It wasn’t unusual for you to have to shove everyone in Wayne’s truck and drive them all home

- Getting everyone in the truck was the hardest part

-On really bad nights, the three boys were the worst

- “Daryl, I swear to fuck if you try and put your nipples on me one more time, I’m ripping them off,” you growled while helping Gail with putting all the empty bottles on the bar

- “Do you’s want to race me?” Dan barely slurred out, leaning against the bar to catch his balance

- “No, Dan, I don’t,” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the last few bottles and handed them to Gail

-Wayne was fairly easy, he was sitting at the end of the bar, giving a few adorable chuckles about nothing every few minutes

-Finally the bar looked somewhat back to normal and you waved goodbye to Gail and started herding the boys.

-Daryl ran at you with his shirt off, and keeping your promise, gave him the biggest purple nurple he had ever received

-He just laughed at it, but boy would he feel it in the morning

-Dan was now trying to get Wayne to race him, but Wayne was still giggling to himself

- “Hey you two, why don’t you see who can get to the truck first,” you called to Dan and Daryl, and they both damn near tripped over themselves to see who could get there first.

-Daryl definitely won

- You put your arm around Wayne’s shoulders and helped him off the bar stool.

- He flashed you the biggest smile and you were reminded that you actually loved seeing Wayne this drunk because it was the only time he actually relaxed

- “You’re a great fucking gal/guy, y/n” Wayne said between chuckles

-The heat rose to your cheeks, but you assumed he was only saying that because he was so drunk

- “So are you Wayne, now let’s get you home,” You said, leading him to the truck

-Daryl had his bare chest on the door of the car, but you didn’t want to bother with it. You would just let Wayne kick his ass tomorrow

-All the boys were put in the truck and you started your rounds of taking them home

-You got Dan and Daryl to their front doors before you headed to Wayne's house

-Katy said you could stay in her room since she was staying at a guys house for the night

-Don’t worry, you had already threatened the guy with death if he so much as thought about hurting her

- You got Wayne up the stairs and into bed, politely taking his boots off and innocently taking off his jeans and tucked him into bed

-He would give a quiet giggle every few minutes, but he was definitely on the verge of falling asleep

-You got him a glass of water and some ibuprofen and put them on his bedside table before falling asleep in Katy’s room

-The next morning, Wayne would be awoken to the smell of breakfast and he would make his way downstairs to see you in the kitchen in a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt

-He would sit at the table with his head down and you would pour him a cup of juice and set it down in front of him

- “Y/n, thanks for getting us all home,” He would say, albeit much quieter than he usually talked. Probably because of the hangover

- “You’re welcome, Sweetie,” You would say with a huge smile on your face, which would earn you a glare from Wayne, but it would disappear as soon as you put food in front of him. Instead it would be replaced with a grateful smile

-Because he knew you were a great fucking gal/guy

3. When you took care of Stormy

-You loved dogs.

-Like, loved dogs

-More than you loved almost anything else

-So when Stormy wouldn’t leave the barn, you were worried sick

-Wayne was too, but he would never show it

-He would call the vet but even in the small town of Letterkenny the vet wasn’t available 24 hours a day

- When the vet said they couldn’t be there for another day or two, you were devastated

- Wayne said Stormy would be fine for a few days and this wasn’t the first time it had happened

-But that didn’t matter much to you

- So for that whole day you didn’t stray too far from the barn where Stormy was laying

- Katy even brought food out to you when you didn’t want to come in for dinner

-Knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave the poor shepherd for too long, Katy got the couch made up for you to stay with her and Wayne

-He was pretty used to you hanging around the house anyway so it was no surprise and he just accepted it

-What he didn’t expect was to go downstairs in the middle of the night for some water to see the couch was empty

-He went up to Katy’s room but you weren’t there either

-Worry spiked through him as he registered that you weren’t in the house

-Until he saw a light on in the barn

-And he knew exactly where you were

-He put on a coat and grabbed a few blankets and headed to the barn

-When he approached the door, he thought he would see you on one of the chairs, or even laying on the upper deck

-What he didn’t expect was to see you laying in the hay right next to Stormy

-A small blanket covering both of them

-He stared at the sight before him for a minute before placing a heavier blanket on both his girls and taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs

-As he looked you over his heart got that weird fluttering feeling that only happened when he looked at you

-The chair wasn’t comfortable, but he settled down the best he could before closing his eyes

-Because he sure as shit wasn’t going to leave them both out in the chilly night air

4. When you only danced with him

-Wayne wasn’t much of a dancer

-He usually stayed at the bar drinking and watching everyone else

-Until he saw you on the dancefloor with Katy

-Both of you were having fun, without a care in the world

-He didn’t always understand how people enjoyed jumping around a dance floor, pushing into each other

- Until he saw you, smiling and carefree

-He could see how you would enjoy it

- He enjoyed watching you do it

- But when the song changed from an upbeat dance to a slower one, he saw the nervousness on your face

- Katy had gone on to dance with the 2 hockey players, leaving you alone on the floor

- He was going to wave you over for a Puppers, to sit down and have a drink with him

- Until

- Some uptown degen had grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, trying to dance with you

- And even from where he was sitting he could see you say no

- But this degen obviously didn’t know what was going to come to him if he didn’t let you go

- So Wayne took another swig of his drink, stood up, and marched right over to you

- He glared at the guy and shoved him away, standing in front of you until the degen scampered away from the crowd

- “I had him by the ropes,” you muttered, looking down at your shoes

- “Sure you did,” Wayne said, scanning the room to make sure the degen didn’t come back with any friends

- You both stood there awkwardly while everyone else was swaying to the music

- Finally you slyly held your hand out, asking him for a dance

- He looked between your hand and your face, before taking it and pulling you closer to him, his hand on your waist and yours falling on his shoulder

- You were slightly surprised that he had even decided to dance with you, but you weren’t going to question it too much

- It was rare that people saw this side of Wayne, especially in public

- So you just went with it and put your head on his shoulder

- “I thought you didn’t want to dance?” Wayne asked

- “No, I didn’t want to dance with some degen. I’ll always take a dance from you,” you said

- Wayne chuckled and pulled you a little closer

- He’d have to find a way to get you to dance with him outside of MoDean’s

5. When you patched him up after a fight

- Wayne was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Everyone knew that

- And for the most part, you liked it

- Except when Wayne had to prove that he was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Aka when he had to fight

- He always won, but that didn’t mean he didn’t catch a few hits along the way

- As the reigning tough guy in Letterkenny, Wayne never showed that he was hurt

- He usually hid behind a bottle of Puppers or Gus N’ Bru until the night was over

- Then he would give some half assed attempt to clean himself up

- Except he sucked at it

- So that’s where you stepped in

- Growing up in Letterkenny, you knew how to patch up wounds

- So as soon as you could get him alone, you would, ignoring his protests the whole time

- At first, you had to damn near tackle Wayne to get him to sit down so you could patch him up

- Even jumping onto his back to try and weigh him down

- It didn’t work, he just slung you off and caught you before you hit the floor, set you down, and stormed out of the bathroom

- This happened again and again until you tried a new tactic

- Begging

- Wayne could refuse most people’s begging

- But not yours

- Especially when you hit him with the puppy dog eyes

- So the first time you tried it, and said please, he sat down on the sink in the bathroom with a whispered “fuck a duck”, and let you patch him up

- You wiped the blood from his lip and disinfected the cuts on his knuckles

- And this became a routine almost every time he got into a fight

- Which was a lot

- His reluctance eventually diminished, and you swore that sometimes he looked forward to having you help him

- Although he would never tell his buddies

- But Katy teased you about it from time to time

- The last time you patched him up, Wayne had gotten into a pretty bad fight

- He had a busted lip, a blackened eye, and numerous cuts on his knuckles

- This fight wasn’t a typical ‘Toughest Guy in Letterkenny’ fight

- You had no idea what started this one, but Wayne hadn’t been this hurt in a while

- He had walked into the house where you were watching a movie with Katy, stood in front of you guys for a moment, and then walked into the bathroom and sat on the sink

- Katy had nudged you towards him and resumed the movie

- You walked into the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit that you had stashed away after the first few fights

- You got out the bandages and hydrogen peroxide and got to work, gently working from his eye to his knuckles

- “I take it this wasn’t a planned fight?” you asked him, throwing a cotton ball into the trash can

- “Not exactly,” he said, “Some fuckin’ degens were talking about some of the girls in town, fucking degens,” he muttered

- “Ah,” I said, putting a small bandage on his right hand

- You're little Batman of Letterkenny

- You went to release his hand but he grabbed yours instead

- You looked up into his eyes and saw that he was already looking into yours

- “You don’t have to patch me up every time, you know,” He said, barely moving his thumb across your own knuckles

- You smiled, your cheeks turning red. “I know, but I want to. Lord knows you can’t do it yourself,” you laughed, not moving

- He gave you a rare smile and let go of your hand

- You finished with his hand and patted his shoulder, signaling that you were done

- He hopped off the counter and watched as you put everything away

- You brushed past him and left the bathroom and went to go sit on the couch and resume the movie

- Wayne went to the fridge, grabbed a Puppers, and sat next to you on the couch

- As the movie played on, you felt your eyes drooping and your yawns had increased, some of them threatening to split your face in half

- At some point your head leaned over onto Wayne’s shoulder and your eyes closed for the night

- Wayne only dragged a blanket onto you and shifted his shoulder down for you to rest your head better

- He ignored Katy’s raised eyebrows and beaming smile and turned his attention back to the movie

- But as he looked at his wrapped hand again, he glanced back at you asleep on his shoulder, and figured enough was enough.

- He would tell you in the morning

#Letterkenny #Wayne #Letterkenny Imagine #Letterkenny Oneshot #Letterkenny Wayne x Y/n

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jaehyunhour · 3 years

Text

teenage dream | mark lee

genre + idol → fluff, smut, tiniest bit of angst if you squint, high school au, virgin!mark (x virgin fem!reader) [they’re both 18]

word count → 4.7k

warnings → alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (always wear a condom pls guys), tiniest bit of cursing

summary → mark lee moves to your hometown halfway through your sophomore year of high school, and once he arrives you quickly fall in love with both him and the town you grew to hate. after you graduate, mark has a surprise for you that may or may not include going across state lines, losing your virginity, and asking for your hand in marriage.

“Mark, you can’t leave me. You’re my soulmate.”

“If I could marry you tonight, I would.”

“You know... it’s only about a 5 hour drive to Vegas from here.”

a/n → i’ve been writing this fic for well over a month and it’s finally done!! this fic is purely self-indulgent because 1) i’m in love with mark lee and 2) i think of him every time i listen to teenage dream by katy perry... as always please let me know what you guys think of this one! i think this is one of my favorite fics i’ve written

Before you met Mark, life was bleak. That was the only way to describe it. Your life was monotone, shades of light blue and gray; your daily routine was the same, you walked through life as a zombie and hated everything about your hometown. But when Mark showed up halfway through your sophomore year of high school, when his family moved from Canada, everything changed. You got to show him the ins and outs of the city, turn him into a real native, and fall in love — both with your hometown, and with him.

You can still recall the first time you got to show Mark what it’s like to be a local. You went downtown, taking the light rail and getting off at each stop, enjoying what the city has to offer, before getting back on and staring out the window at the scenery. Mark’s hand rested in-between both of your thighs in an attempt to warm himself, while the other pressed onto the glass window of the light rail and tapped lightly. You pointed out the window at different buildings, telling Mark the story of your life in this little town, and he sat quietly and listened. His gaze lingered on the moving buildings as you spoke, and he immediately felt his entire body warm. This is when Mark knew you were special.

Your high school graduation was bittersweet. You were choosing to go to a college only thirty minutes away from your home because of your family, and Mark was on the waitlist for his dream college in Korea. After all the names were called, and all the caps thrown in the air, Mark wove his way through all of the graduates and straight to you. He picked you up in his arms, spun you around quickly, and set you down.

“We did it,” he said, eyes wide and smile bright. He placed his hands on your face and squished your cheeks before pulling you into another hug. “I have something to tell you.”

“I can’t believe we graduated. Tell me,” you responded.

“I got off the waitlist.”

You let out a scream, pulling back from Mark and hitting him on the chest. “Oh my god, Mark! Holy shit, that’s incredible. So you’re going to Korea? W-when do you leave?” Your stomach drops at the realization that Mark will be going to an entirely different country soon, meanwhile you have to stay in a town that you love only because he’s in it. It’s not the same without him.

“I don’t leave until the beginning of September.”

“So you’ll get to move me into my dorm before you leave?”

“You think I would leave without seeing where you’re going to be living? I need to make sure that you’re being well taken care of in my absence. You know I’m kidnapping you and taking you with me to Korea if I don’t like the dorm, right?”

“I expect absolutely nothing less,” you said, both you and Mark’s families rushing up to you on the football field to congratulate you. Your families forced you to pose for photos, talked amongst themselves about your college plans, and made plans to throw you two a joint graduation party.

Two weeks after graduation, you’re laying down on the trampoline in your backyard as the sun is setting. It’s a Thursday night, your parents are out of town for the weekend and have left you home alone. You could throw a huge party, celebrate the end of senior year, but instead you choose to enjoy the alone time in your childhood home before you move out. You stare at the moving clouds, your chest sitting on your phone as you talk to Mark who’s currently driving.

“You know, I’m kinda mad that your parents still won’t let you come spend the night at my house. We’re 18! We’re adults,” you say.

Mark lets out a laugh. “My parents are scared that if they let me spend the night at your house that I’ll do drugs, join a gang, and get you pregnant all in one night.”

“Do I really give that vibe off? I thought your parents liked me! We’ve been inseparable for well over 2 years now.”

“They love you, you know that. You’re home, right?”

“Yuuuup,” you say, standing up quickly and jumping a few times on the trampoline. He can hear the creaking of the trampoline and whines.

“No fairrrrr, you’re jumping without me!” Mark says. You hear Mark close the door to his car and lock it. Before you can ask him where he’s headed, he walks through the front door of your house, through the living room, and out into the backyard. Mark hangs up the call, before jumping onto the trampoline with you.

You get back down onto your back on the trampoline, grabbing at Mark’s leg and trying to pull him down with you. He lays next to you, rolling over so half of his body is on top of yours. He nuzzles his head into your chest and lets out a content sigh.

“You should really keep the doors locked when you’re home alone. What are your plans for tonight?” He asks.

“Mmm, probably watch a movie and eat something. I might raid my mom’s wine cabinet and finish a whole bottle by myself.”

“Woooow, look at you breaking the rules. Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

“I’m just trying to enjoy myself before college!”

“Look at what I got today,” Mark says, flopping onto his back and pulling an ID out of his pocket. He hands it to you and you inspect it carefully.

“This is a Korean ID,” you start. “Aaaand, it doesn’t even have your name.”

“Yeah! It’s a fake ID. Says I’m 21.”

“Why’d you pick Kim Soohyun for your name? And why do you need a fake ID? You’re legal in Korea, you can drink.”

“My mom says Kim Soohyun is my long lost brother, I thought it would be funny. I got it for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yep,” Mark says, plucking the ID out of your hands and shoving it back into his pocket. “Go pack a bag, we’re going on a road trip.”

“Where to?”

“It’s a secret, but it’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.” Mark lays on his side, and you can feel him staring at you. You turn onto your side to look at him. “Can you close your eyes for a second?”

You nod and close your eyes. Your heart begins beating faster and your breathing is labored. Before you can ask Mark what game he’s playing at, you feel Mark’s lips on yours. You gasp, returning his kiss, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. It’s not your first time kissing someone like this, but it’s definitely his and you can tell. His tongue peruses the inside of your mouth, and his lips are pressed firmly against yours. You try to push your tongue into his mouth in an attempt to control the kiss, but to no avail. Mark pulls back to catch his breath, and his eyes meet yours.

“You’re bad at that,” you whisper, letting out a giggle.

“Yeah, I thought I might be,” Mark says with a sigh.

“You’ll get better at it. W-we can practice,” you say, pecking his lips. “I’ll go pack a bag.”

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in the passenger’s seat of Mark’s car, watching him as he drives. His hands rest perfectly at 10 and 2, his lips pouting, and he watches the road ahead intensely.

“You should probably sleep, it’s going to be a while before we get there.”

“How long?” you ask. You recline the seat and lay back, extending your hand out to rest on Mark’s thigh. “Hold my hand.”

One of his hands leaves the steering wheel and he intertwines your fingers with his. “About 16 hours? Just sleep, I’ll wake you up in like 8 hours so you can switch with me.” You nod, closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep.

You’re not sure how long you sleep, but when you wake up, Mark’s hand is still holding yours. The sun is shining through the windshield and you look over at Mark, who is also sleeping. You’re parked next to a gas station in what feels like the middle of nowhere. You check your phone: 8:35 a.m.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, causing Mark to stir. You tear your hand away from his, shifting the seat up and pushing Mark to wake up. “Mark, get up.”

He groans too before sitting back up. “I just fell asleep.”

“Why did you let me sleep for so long? You drove for 12 straight hours! I’m going to go inside the gas station and buy some coffee, then I’ll drive the rest of the way. You can sleep until we get to wherever the hell you’re taking me.”

Mark tries to sleep for the remaining four hours of your drive, but he’s too excited to be able to sleep. Instead, he watches you drive and smiles proudly. Mark has always thought you are so beautiful, even in your current state — no makeup, hair messy from sleeping in the car, and bags underneath your eyes. He leans over and presses a rough kiss to your cheek before laying back down.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t like you. Yesterday before we left you practically shoved your tongue down my throat, and now you’re forcing me on a road trip. You’re not normally like this.”

“I just… I realized that I wasted so much time not doing the things I want to do with you, and I would’ve hated myself forever if I didn’t do it before I left to Korea.”

“You would’ve hated yourself forever if you didn’t make out with your best friend and force her to drive around before leaving to Korea?” You pause. “Where are we going?”

“Something like that. Uh… well, we’re in California,” Mark says, causing you to swerve.

“You brought me across state lines?! Maaaark, your parents are going to kill you!”

“They think I’m with Johnny-hyung for the weekend. Don’t worry, he’ll cover for me. I think we’re only like half an hour away from LA.”

“You’re insane, Mark. So so insane.”

“So this is Santa Monica, huh?” Mark says, looking out at the crashing waves in front of him and inhaling deeply, letting his lungs fill with the cool ocean air, sand getting stuck between his toes.

“This is so beautiful,” you whisper. “Thank you for bringing me, Mark.”

“I would do anything for you, I hope you know that,” Mark responds. He takes out a brown paper bag from his backpack, twisting off the cap of the bottle inside and taking a swig of it and gagging. You laugh, taking the bottle out of his hand and sniffing it before taking a drink yourself.

“Why would you buy vodka? You know you can’t drink alcohol very well.”

“I wanted to see if my ID would work! It was pretty easy, I just handed it to the guy and spoke in Korean and he didn’t question it.” He takes the bottle out of your hand and takes another drink, this time more prepared and able to suppress the gag that bubbles in his throat. You turn to look at Mark, and he quickly shifts his head to stare back at you. Some people say they feel their heart skip a beat when the person they love looks at them, but when Mark looks at you, your heart stops completely. Your heart stops, your breath gets caught in your chest, and you stop blinking. You have to make a conscious effort to breathe in and out, and open and close your eyelids as Mark looks at you and overtakes your thoughts.

As you’re staring at Mark, memorizing every inch of his face as the Santa Monica sun sets, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up and your face begin to numb as the vodka hits you. He reaches out to pinch your cheek, smiling wide at your flushed face, and when you feel his fingers on your skin, you just know — this is real, this is love.

“You’re so cute,” Mark says.

“Says you.” You grab the bottle from Mark’s other hand, taking another deep chug before pressing the bottle to his lips. You tilt it and he drinks from it until he can’t handle the taste anymore, pushing it away slightly and letting you drop it between your bodies.

“Y/N, I—”

“Kiss me.”

Mark doesn’t need to be told twice; instantly pressing you down into the sand, body hovering above yours and attaching his lips to yours. He lets you lead the kiss this time, opening his mouth when he feels your tongue poking at his lips and allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. Your tongue traces over his teeth, before meeting his tongue and playing with it. Your hands come up to hold onto his face, and he softens into your touch. Mark feels dizzy — both from the feeling of your tongue in his mouth and the vodka hitting him all at once. He pulls away, panting as he tries to catch his breath.

“I feel like I’m living a dream,” Mark says, staring at your face with something you can only describe as love in his eyes.

“I want to go swimming,” you respond, quickly sitting up without thinking and hitting your head against his. “Owie, I’m sorry, honey. Don’t know why I got up so quickly.”

Mark giggles and sits up, peeling his shirt off and dropping it on the sand. “Let’s go swimming.” He stands up, trying to kick his skinny jeans off as you stand up and start walking to the water. “Y/N! Take your jeans off at least.”

“Nuh-uh, I wanna go swimming,” you say, stumbling as you walk through the hot sand as quickly as you can and into the water. You don’t even register how cold the water is, quickly walking deep into the ocean and letting the waves go over your head. Mark rushes to catch up with you, walking into the ocean in only his underwear. He pulls you into his arms and you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and rest your forehead up against his.

“I miss you already, Mark.”

“I don’t even leave for another 3 months.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to go,” you say quietly. Unwillingly, tears fall down your cheeks and mix with the salt water on your face.

“I’m so glad I finally found you,” Mark responds. “My missing puzzle piece. I’m complete.” He wipes the tears and water from your face and presses a kiss to your lips.

“I can’t believe we’ve known each other for over 2 years and you waited for us to graduate before making a move on me,” you say, angrily pressing another kiss to his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I took you downtown for the first time, Mark.”

“And I’ve been in love with you since the day you asked me to go downtown with you.”

“You’re so lame,” you say to Mark, just as a huge wave goes over your heads and crashes. You both burst into laughter and you untangle yourself from him, pushing the hair out of your face and trying to regain your breathe. You place your hands on Mark’s shoulders, letting them travel down his chest to the waistband of his underwear. You slip your fingers underneath, pulling the band back before letting it snap back on his skin. “Mark, have you ever… you know…”

He shakes his head no. “M-my mom told me I should s-save myself for someone special,” he says, nervously. “Have you, ever… you know…”

You shake your head no. “Let’s go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love. Just you and me.”

“Okay.”

You and Mark stumble into the Santa Monica Motel, only a 20 minute walk from the Santa Monica Pier, coming up to the front desk with your clothes still dripping and asking for whatever vacant room they have. The desk attendant rolls his eyes, handing you two a pair of room keys and sending you on your way. You walk into the room, one hand holding Mark’s hand, as the other held onto the mostly gone bottle of vodka.

As you walk into the room, Mark throws your things onto the floor and locks the door behind him. You drink half of what’s left in the bottle, giving the rest to Mark which he finishes quickly before stepping into the bathroom. As Mark is in the bathroom freshening up, you pull the sheets off the bed and throw them onto the floor. You then pull the cushions off the couch in the corner, attempting to make a fort in the tiny motel room. You set the cushions up, then use the pillows to try and complete the walls of your fort, before throwing a thin white sheet over everything and crawling underneath. Mark comes out of the bathroom and raises an eyebrow when he sees the mess you’ve created on the floor.

“Y/N?”

“Come meet me in the fort, honey.”

Mark crawls underneath the sheet carefully, trying not to destroy the fort he’s sure you worked hard on. Once he’s underneath and he sees your shirt sticking to your chest, and your skin-tight jeans seemingly sticking tighter to your skin, his heart begins to race.

“I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but I feel like I’m living a dream,” Mark says, letting his hand rest on your stomach. You reach for his arm, pinching him slightly and he lets out a soft moan. “What was that for?”

“Just to remind you that this isn’t a dream. This is real, and I love you.”

“I love you,” Mark responds. You pull your wet shirt up and off your head, letting it fall to the floor before you unbutton your wet jeans and try to push them off.

“Mark, I need help,” you whine. He laughs before helping you pull your jeans down and setting them on the floor with your shirt. He looks at your entire body up and down, taking in the sight of your matching bra and underwear.

He groans. “Fuck, I really love you.” Mark lets his body hover over yours, quickly enveloping your lips in a quick, passionate kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you and bucking your hips up to meet his. Mark feels himself harden in his underwear and he whines into your mouth at the feeling of you grinding up into him. Your hands grip onto his cheeks softly just as they did when you kissed on the beach, and one of his hands reaches up to pull your bra down and let your breasts free. His hands grab at your chest as if he’s done this before, fingers tugging and tweaking your nipples and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth and is caught by his.

You rip his hand away from your chest, bringing it down into your underwear and pressing his fingers onto your clit. His fingers reach down to your entrance, teasing it softly before collecting your slick and returning to your clit. He pushes down roughly, rubbing in circles and your hips buck up again. This is the first time anyone else has ever touched you, and you quickly feel the knot forming in your stomach.

“Mark, I’m gonna—” you say, pulling back from his lips for a second and grinding harder into his fingers in an attempt to reach your high quicker.

“Really?” Mark asks in disbelief, eyes wide as he presses his fingers harder into you and takes in the sight of your body. Your chest is going up and down quickly, hips moving and grinding into his fingers, one hand gripping onto his wrist as the other grips on his hair.

“Fuck, just a few more seconds, I swear, Mark,” you whine, and he speeds his fingers up. And surely enough, within a few seconds, you’re gripping onto his wrist tightly to stop his movements as you cum, clenching around nothing as you chant his name repeatedly. Mark lets you come down from your high on your own time, afraid of overstimulating you before he can even get inside of you. As soon as you’ve come down from your orgasm, you’re pulling Mark into another kiss and pushing his underwear down.

“Y/N, I-I should p-probably get a c-c-condom,” Mark stutters as your hand grips onto his hard dick and pumps lightly.

“Nuh-uh,” you say, letting go of him and bucking your hips, feeling the tip of his dick rub against your clit and letting out a content sigh. “I want to feel all of you.”

Mark nods, gripping onto the base of his dick and pushing himself into you slowly, letting you adjust to him. Once he’s all the way in, he lets out a shaky breath as you clench around him a few times, getting used to the feeling of being full of something more than your fingers. “You can move now, honey.” He nods again and slowly begins moving his hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back in.

Mark lowers himself more, making sure you’re chest to chest as he moves slowly inside of you. Your legs wrap around his waist again, arms around his neck, pulling him close to you as you close your eyes and focus on the feeling of Mark’s length moving in and out of you swiftly. Mark lowers his head, resting it on your shoulder and pressing a kiss as you let your mouth fall open in a moan.

“I love you,” Mark’s hips pick up speed at your confession and you let out another loud moan. “I love you, I love you, fuck, baby, I really love you.”

He balances his weight on his hands, pushing himself up to look into your eyes as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. You want to close your eyes so bad, want to focus on the feeling of Mark fucking you, but you’re mesmerized as his eyes look into yours. You’re afraid to even blink, not wanting to miss a moment of this, not wanting to miss a second of the way Mark’s eyebrows furrow as he looks into your eyes, then down at your chest, then down at where your hips meet, then back up into your eyes. He shifts his weight onto one hand, moving the other to your clit and your eyes instantly roll into the back of your head.

“Look at me, baby,” Mark says quietly, angling his hips to meet that spot inside of you, and you struggle to keep your eyes open and looking at him, but you try.

“A-are you sure you’ve n-never done this before?” You ask, clenching tightly around Mark as he fucks you and rubs your clit.

“N-never ever. Been saving myself for you.”

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whine.

“Cum for me, baby, please.” Mark says, and you nod as he presses his fingers just a little harder, pushing you over the edge quickly. The feeling of you clenching around his length sporadically, and your fingernails digging into his back, is enough to push him over the edge, and he’s cumming in you in thick white ropes. He lets out a deep groan as he cuts inside of you, giving you everything he’s got. He falls on top of you, not even bothering to pull out, and you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. You wipe the sweat off from his forehead and let out a laugh that he returns.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you say.

“Are you on birth control?” Mark asks.

You flick his forehead and giggle. “Yes, I’m on birth control. I have been for like a year.”

“Oh thank God,” he lets out a sigh of relief.

You bask in the silence of the motel room for a second, realizing you’re still on the carpeted floor in the fort you’ve built. “Lets get into bed.”

Mark fixes the sheets and pillows onto the bed as you use the bathroom, and when you emerge from the bathroom naked and crawl into bed next to him, he feels his chest swell with love for you. As soon as you’re in bed with him, you snuggle into his body, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

“Your heart is beating really fast,” you whisper.

“Because of you,” he responds. He pushes you off him slightly, pushing you onto your back and resting his head on your chest. “I wanna be held.”

“You’re such a baby.” You play with Mark’s hair, enjoying the silence before it hits you that Mark is going to leave you. You’ve finally gotten the boy you love, given everything to him, and within a few months he’s going to leave you and start a new life while you’re stuck in your tiny town. Your chest begins to warm in anxiety at the thought of having to be away from him, and tears well in your eyes. “Mark, you can’t leave me. You’re my soulmate.”

“Come with me, then.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” The tears drip down your face slowly and Mark can tell you’re crying by the way your chest contracts underneath him.

He sits up quickly and looks down at you, eyes flickering to your bare chest for a split second before looking back up into your eyes. He wipes the tears from your face. “Y/N, I’m serious. Just take a year off and come with me to Korea, and then you can start school there. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He leans down and presses a kiss between your breasts before coming back up. “I can’t live my life without you. Please come with me.”

“Mark, my parents would kill me. Moving to a new country for a boy I’m not even married to? You’re insane.”

“If I could marry you tonight, I would.” Mark thinks for a second and grabs his phone from the table next to the bed, unlocking it and shielding it from your view as he looks something up.

“What time is it?”

“It’s midnight,�� he responds.

“You know… it’s only about a 5 hour drive to Vegas from here.”

“And?”

“If we start driving now, we can make it by the time the sun rises.”

“Aaaaand?”

“Aaaand, wecouldbeimpulsiveandgogetmarriedmaybeifyoureallymeantit,” you say quietly.

Mark lets out a hearty laugh before rolling over onto you and pressing a flurry of kisses all over your face, before pulling you into a long kiss.

“What was all that for?” you ask.

He unlocks his phone and hands it over to you, showing that he was looking up 24 hour pawn shops nearby.

“I had the same thought. I thought maybe we go out and get some food, hit one of these pawn shops and get some rings, then drive over to Vegas.”

You let out a laugh and peck his lips. “Let’s go then, baby.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on your parents’ face when you tell them I convinced you to drive across state lines, get married to me, and drop out of state university to move to another country with me.”

“They’ll just have to deal,” you say, getting up out of bed and cringing as you put your wet clothes back on. “I have dry clothes in the car. It’s still parked by the beach, isn’t it?” Mark nods in response, slipping his wet clothes back on and leaving the room keys with the front desk attendant. Your hand slips into his as you walk in the dark streets of the city, walking towards the beach where Mark’s car is parked. “Can we stop in San Francisco on our way back home? I want to see the Golden Gate Bridge.”

“We can do whatever you want, baby.”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you, too. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you sigh contently. “I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”

607 notes · View notes

rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Casual Ruin Pt. 1 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

Hello, and welcome to an unapologetically kinky, 90% smut / 10% plot mafia fic for Elriel.

Blanket trigger warning for ALL parts (although the first is very vanilla and sweet): this is for adults and contains both sex and violence. If you are not a fan of those two things, or the mild combination of them, scroll along. It contains things that might be triggering. It’s a dark romance.

______________________________________________________

“Wake up, dolce mia.”

The words are a soft, accented whisper pressed against my ear during the darkest part of the night, followed by sinful lips pressing a kiss to my skin that jerks me out of my sleep.

Despite the rush of heat that floods my system, I keep my eyes closed and groan, pushing his face away. My body’s exhausted, and despite wanting nothing more than to wake up and let him make me even more tired, I need sleep.

A rough chuckle escapes him, but he’s apparently inhuman, doesn’t need sleep, and isn’t giving up this easily.

Dodging my weak attempts to push him away, he drags his mouth down the column of my throat, stopping to suck and nibble on parts that are especially interesting.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as he finds the junction between my shoulder and throat, but I still keep my eyes closed.

The cold metal of his chain raises goosebumps as it glints down the valley between my breasts, and his mouth follows, almost like he’s unable to help it.

He’s all over me, scent surrounding me and making it impossible to truly fall back asleep, no matter how tired I am.

He’s put my body through every possible sexual position known to man tonight, somehow pulling every ounce of pleasure from me.

But, like always, I want more.

He’s a drug, more potent than anything on the market, and I’ve come to crave the feel of him against me in the three weeks I’ve known him.

“Wake up, bellisima,” he murmurs, rough voice like a song that ignites a fire in my blood.

I shake my head, and he smiles against me. I regret not opening my eyes a little, because while nothing about him is unattractive, his smile is something I could never get enough of and I hate missing it.

Calloused, scared hands ghost down my body almost reverently, and then he’s kissing a trail across my ribs, over my stomach, and up to my breasts.

His tongue swirls around the peak of one, hand coming to mold the other to his touch, and I use every ounce of willpower to say still.

I’m proud to say I make it a full two minutes before I can’t take anymore and give in. “Fine. I’m awake.”

I say it as if it’s a struggle to be awoken by him and not the best part of my day.

My eyes open to find his, the warm hazel taking my breath away like always.

He gives me a slow smile, coming down to press a kiss to my lips. He tugs on the lower one with his teeth, then smooths the small hurt with his tongue.

I can’t help the small whimper that slips out as his tongue meets mine, because I’m honestly powerless to the way he kisses me.

Slow and deep and perfectly controlled, but also possessive and a little desperate. He’s a selfish kisser; he kisses me exactly how he wants, turning my head just right, nipping my lips when he wants, only breaking when I’m breathless.

A palm goes to my thigh, guiding it around his trim hips, then he’s grinding against me, letting me feel him against me, hard and ready and so tempting my eyes cross.

I resist the urge to arch up into him long enough to tease, “Egoisto bastardo.” Selfish bastard.

“Egoista,” he corrects, smirking.

I roll my eyes, caring less about adjectives and more about the feel of his hands on my hips. I roll my hips slightly, watching as the hazel of his eyes darkens to black.

“Was there a reason you woke me up?” I ask innocently, reaching between us and palming him in a blatant attempt to drive him half as crazy as he does me.

He nods and pushes into my palm. My hand instinctively wraps around him, and I guide him to the apex of my thighs, running the head of him against me in a way that makes us both shudder.

He pushes my head to the side with his chin, then runs his mouth up the column of my throat, stubble making goose bumps rise in his wake. His teeth nip at my skin before he whispers roughly, “I want to fuck you, Elain. I want to feel you around me, hear you call out my name, watch as you come on my cock. So stop teasing me and let me make give us both what we want.”

I don’t respond with words, being completely unable to find them. I just tilt my hips and slip him inside me, watching as the brown in his eyes fades to black.

Jaw tight, he pushes into me fully, causing me to arch up into him. My legs go around his waist, and he hums in satisfaction.

He pulls out the tiniest amount, then thrusts back in harder, pulling a moan from my throat. “You feel so good,” he praises, teeth finding my earlobe and biting down softly. I moan his name, my body on fire for him, and he murmurs, “I love the way you say my name.”

He pulls out all the way, then slams back inside me so hard I feel the reverberations in my hip bones. “But I want to hear you scream it.”

My head rolls back against the mattress, and I can hardly breathe around the feel of him inside me, filling me so perfectly. Somehow I’m still not used to it, not used to how it somehow feels so right.

My breasts bounce as he works me, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest with every thrust. His head raises and his eyes drop, watching.

“Minchia,” he curses, reaching up to palm my one roughly. “Cosi bella.”

If he keeps talking in that husky, deep voice, I won’t last another two minutes. I’m already shaking, but I push the impending release away, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

He moves faster, hands sliding down to my backside to lift me up exactly how he wants. His pelvic bone brushes against my clit every time our hips collide, and it’s almost too much. A low moan escapes me as he kisses my neck, sucking the skin hard enough to leave a mark.

His hands tighten on my ass, and then his palm is connecting with my skin with just the right amount of pressure. I cry out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as I bury my face in his neck.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he growls, even though it’s obvious I did.

I nod, mouth too preoccupied with kissing his jaw to reply.

Like always, he gives me exactly what I want, using the other hand this time to spank me. The sharp sting pushes me over the edge, and I yell his name yet again as I come.

He doesn’t come with me, just releases my ass to wrap one arm around my shoulders to keep me in place as he takes his own pleasure. His hips are harsh against mine, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I take everything he gives me and want even more.

My nails rake down his back, and he mutters a curse against my lips as he kisses me. His tongue meets mine, and I can’t stop myself from sucking on it, completely lost in him.

“Fuck, Elain,” he growls, bracing a hand on the headboard I hadn’t realized was so close. His fingers are tight on my shoulder, lips brutal against mine, thrusts so hard I’m practically screaming.

But it isn’t any of that that makes release find me again.

It’s him groaning, “Ti senti cosi bene,” then leaning down to press the rough translation to my ear.

I come apart entirely, and it’s a miracle his lips stifle the helpless noises I make, otherwise I’d wake up my cranky old neighbor. Again.

I tremble beneath him as his movements get a little sloppy, then still entirely.

He kisses my again as he comes, and it’s a rough, almost bruising sort of kiss that makes me want to do it all over again.

He eventually slows to a stop, looking down at me with enough heat in his eyes I melt.

“Fatto per me,” he whispers, running a knuckle over the curve of my cheek.

My sluggish brain works overtime to figure out what he said, eventually finding the translation.

Made for me.

~Three weeks ago~

The opera house is unsurprisingly packed, opening night drawing in over two hundred well-dressed patrons.

I had to pull together three months rent for the ticket alone, a ridiculous expense I’d normally never allow myself, but coming here has been on my bucket list for over nine years, ever since I first heard Cecilia Bartoli on a friend’s radio.

I pinched pennies, picked up extra shifts, and only ate Ramen for the month leading up to my trip here--a real crime, considering my profession--so I could come.

And even though I broke out in a cold sweat from the expense of this night, I have to say it’s already worth it. I have a huge smile on my face as I make my way through the lobby, stopping to look at the program and take in the portraits of the performers.

By the time I go to enter the auditorium, there are only a few people left in the lobby. I want to use the restroom before the show starts, so I hurry up the stairs to the upper floor to look for it.

Except it’s nowhere to be found.

I search down every hallway, the stress of missing the show forcing me to almost jog. A man in a red jacket steps into the hall right when I’m starting to despair, and he turns to me and raises a brow.

“Excuse me... where’s the restroom?” I ask in the most atrociously broken Italian he’s probably ever heard.

His eyes skate over me from head to toe, then he says something back, way too quickly for me to decipher.

I assume he’s asking if I have a ticket, so I hold up the crumpled paper I’ve been guarding for months and smile.

He gives me a strange look, extending an arm and gesturing for me to follow. I nod, and we start off down the corridor, stopping in front of a plain white door.

“This is the restroom?” I ask, not understanding why it isn’t labeled or anything.

He mumbles something I can’t hear, seems to hurry me on, then opens the door and practically shoves me inside.

And straight into a man’s chest.

Which makes this the strangest women’s room I’ve ever ventured into.

He steadies me with two hands on my shoulders, and somehow I know, before I even look, that this man will be devastatingly handsome.

Too curious not to, I look up. And up, and up some more.

And I realize I was both right and wrong, because the man before me is devastatingly handsome, but he’s also so much more, to the point where those words aren’t enough to describe him.

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

It’s a classic sort of look, one that will never go out of style and never be considered anything but perfect.

Hazel eyes rimmed in dark black eyelashes meet mine, narrowed at the edges with amusement. His full, all too kissable lips are turned up in a smirk and surrounded by a day’s worth of stubble I know would scratch at the fingers I’m tempted to run over it.

He’s so tall my neck starts to cramp, but I’m a deer in the headlights, unable to so much as blink.

He’s monochromatically dressed in black, from his suit jacket, shirt, slacks, and polished shoes. We’re still pressed against each other, and the differences between us couldn’t be more obvious.

He’s sin incarnate, the perfect picture of a fallen angel, and I’m the naiive girl dressed in lilac and unable to stop blushing.

His dark hair slips over his forehead as he leans his face further to mine, and for a strange second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he takes a step back and regards me with assessing eyes.

“Stai bene?”

The sound of his voice--a cool, deep balm that soothes my nerves--throws me for a second, but even my American self can understand that simple question. I nod.

His lips twitch. “Sei sicuro?” Are you sure?

I nod again.

“Tu parli?” Do you speak?

My eyes narrow a little at the teasing note in his voice. “Si.”

“Cosa stai facendo qui?”

My knowledge of Italian is limited to the Duolingo I’ve been cramming in the last couple of months, so I tell him I don’t understand.

He waves a hand around us, his eyes growing a shade darker as he prowls toward me. He says something in a low voice, the tenor in his voice giving me goosebumps.

“It was an accident! I was looking for the restroom,” I blurt when he takes another step toward me.

He stops. Understanding dawns. A smile breaks lose that threatens my sanity with its beauty.

“You’re American,” he says in surprisingly perfect English.

It isn’t a question, but I answer anyway. “I am.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m at the opera,” I state stupidly.

His lips tip upward, and I mentally slap myself for the dumb response. “You are. But what are you doing here?”

Oh. For the first time since I was shoved in here, I take a look around. I’m in one of the dark boxes on the upper floor of the opera house, the ones usually reserved for royalty or billionaires or people willing to spend an entire paycheck. There are two seats, a table in between them, and a perfect view of the stage from the slight balcony.

I gasp when I realize the lights are dim, meaning the show has either started or is about to. “Have I missed anything?”

“No. Now answer the question.”

God, he’s relentless. I sigh and explain, “I was looking for the bathroom, and a very unhelpful attendant pushed me in here instead.”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowed. Like he’s trying to tell if I’m being serious or something. Honestly, who would lie about going to the bathroom?

“Listen, Mr...” I realize I don’t know his name, so I just keep talking. “I don’t know why you think I’d lie and sneak in here, but I’m not, and I didn’t. And I don’t want to miss anything, so I’ll just head down to my regular seat and get out of your hair.”

With one last look at him, I make my way to the door. Only to be stopped by a large hand shooting out and a softly murmured, “Stay.”

I start to deny that knee-weakening request, start to tell him it would be crazy to sit here alone with a stranger. But then a woman steps onto the stage, and everything changes.

“Oh my God, it’s her,” I whisper, practically shoving him out of the way as I hurry over to the balcony.

Cecilia Bartoli’s on the stage, wearing an elaborate gown, dripping with diamonds and confidence, effortlessly belting out lyrics I’m too dazed to even try to understand.

For a moment, I’m so lost in the music I don’t notice when a warm hand lands on my elbow and guides me to the chair behind me. I sink down, eyes still trained on the stage.

I’ve listened to her on my phone or the radio for so long that it’s surreal to hear her live.

I’m breathless by the time the song ends, and it’s when I hear a deep breath I remember I’m not alone. “Sorry. I... I’m a big fan of hers.”

He presses a button on the table I hadn’t noticed and an usher immediately brings in a fresh glass of champagne and a tumblr full of amber liquid. “No apology is necessary. I’ve never met an American fond of Italian opera; it’s refreshing to meet someone with good taste. I’m surprised you don’t speak Italian, though, given your passion.”

“You don’t have to understand what someone’s saying to understand what they’re feeling,” I point out.

He grins like I’ve said the right answer to a difficult question. “True.”

The next song starts, a backup singer effortlessly building he crowd’s energy, and my gaze is torn between the man beside me and the stage. I want to stare at him and listen to him speak in that strangely sexy voice, but I’ve also been looking forward to this show for almost a year.

“I’d like to propose a deal,” he says, surprising me.

My eyebrows quirk at the practiced way he said that, and I debate if this is a good idea. Curiosity wins in the end. “A deal?”

“I leave you alone and stop interrupting your experience, and you agree to have a drink with me after the show’s over.”

I purse my lips to give the appearance of being deep in thought. “I could always just leave and sit in my own seat.”

He nods. “You could. But you won’t.”

“Awfully confident, aren’t you?” He should be.

He smiles, hazel eyes on mine as he takes a slow sip of his drink. For some reason, my stomach ties itself in knots and my thighs press together at the look in his eyes. He smirks like he knows what happened, and says, “You don’t want to leave. In the five minutes you’ve been here, you haven’t stopped blushing. And let’s not forget the spell of speechlessness.”

I blush again, making him chuckle.

Then I murmur, “Fine. Deal.”

He takes my hand in his, shaking once and sealing it in metaphorical stone.

“Enjoy the show.”

Cecilia starts singing again before I can respond, and I become lost once again to the vibrato of her voice.

I don’t like all opera, and I don’t like all opera singers, but there’s something about her that makes you feel every single thing she’s thinking about while singing. It’s the rawest form of art I’ve ever experienced, and it’s impossible to look away while she tells her story.

That doesn’t mean I’m not overly aware of the man next to me.

His eyes are on me the entire time mine are on the stage, acting like I’m more interesting to watch than the show he undoubtedly paid thousands of dollars to see. His gaze burns a hole into the side of my face, but I can’t be bothered to care because I just can’t believe I’m here.

The last song before intermission concludes, leaving the audience in suspense of what happens next, and I find I’m almost breathless as I watch the curtain sweep closed dramatically.

A condition that does the opposite of improve when the man beside me says softly, “You’re beautiful, you know.”

“You’re charming,” I say back, my skin warming like it always does with compliments.

He grins like that’s amusing.

“What’s your name?” he asks, facing me and crossing his long legs. I do the same, leaving less than an inch between our knees.

“Elain.”

“Elain,” he repeats, drawing the syllables out in a way that makes me bite into my lower lip.

“What’s yours?”

He tilts his head, almost in preparation, as he answers, “My name is Azriel Pacino.”

He says it with finality, like he’s a person of importance and is used to being treated accordingly. I mean, it makes sense, considering the private booth we’re sitting in and the instantaneous service the waiter brought our drinks with.

I realize something I’d pushed to the back of my mind. “Why did the man from before bring me in here? He seemed like he was nervous or late or something.”

“He was,” he chuckles. “He was supposed to bring me my companion for the evening, and he was late.”

My jaw snaps shut. “Oh. So... you’re still waiting for her, then?”

At this point, she was very rudely late, but that’s absolutely none of my business.

He tilts his head and smiles, the sight too much for me and causing me to take a long swallow of champagne. “Are you asking if I’m single, Elain?”

My mouth opens and closes a few times to his amusement, but I end up whispering, “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I wasn’t.”

I feel a strange sense of relief, but I don’t have time to read into it before the curtains sweep back open and the lights dim, meaning the show’s about to start.

More singers are with Cecilia now, their voices joining to create a sound so moving, I have to bite my lip to hold back the tears. Which grows harder as the scenes progress, and it becomes obvious this story will end in a tragedy.

By the end, I’m helpless. My eyes are watering, and I have a death grip on the arm of the seat I’ve all but forgotten I’m sitting in. The last song is the one that breaks the dam, and when the performers bow and the lights come back on, my cheeks are damp.

I wipe them with the backs of my hands, then stand and clap so hard my palms hurt.

Taking another large sip of champagne to calm myself, I turn back to Azriel, finding him watching me once again. I normally would feel a little guilty about completely ignoring a man for over an hour, but hey, we have a deal.

“Was it everything you thought it’d be?”

“So much more,” I answer, laughing incredulously. “I’ve wanted to see her perform for years.”

A thoughtful look crosses his face, then he stands with fluid grace I could never hope to have and extends a hand. “Come with me.”

I remember our deal. “To get a drink?”

He shakes his head but offers no other explanation, and even though it might be a bad idea, I accept it.

Azriel pulls me from the booth and leads me down the hallway I ran through earlier, and I notice the people on this floor give him a wide birth, looking at him with round eyes.

Maybe he’s famous here or something.

I shrug it off, deciding to live in the moment as his arm goes around me and his palm lands on my waist.

We come to a stop at an elevator I hadn’t noticed, and once inside, he presses B instead of the button for the lobby.

I’m confused as to why until the door opens and I see a flurry of people bustling back and forth, carrying props and costumes and other important stuff.

My eyes shoot to Azriel’s, but he stays silent, just guiding me from the lift and down a narrow hallway.

He knocks twice on a door, then opens it and tugs me inside.

When I glance around him to see what the surprise is, I almost hit the floor.

Cecilia Bartoli sits on a plush sofa, holding a martini and looking so beautiful and classy I almost start crying all over again.

She looks up at us and raises an eyebrow, and I’m about to... I don’t know, apologize for barging in unannounced or something, when Azriel speaks.

It’s in Italian, so I can’t be sure what he’s saying, but then he tilts his head towards me and says simply, “Elain.”

She gets to her feet and comes toward us, bypassing him to grab my shoulders and kiss my cheeks. “Buona sera, Elain.”

I take a shaky breath, half convinced I passed out and this is all some elaborate dream. “Buona sera.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asks in heavily accented English, smiling at me kindly.

“Oh, my goodness, yes. It was the most moving thing I’ve ever seen. I’m a huge fan of yours. I bought my ticket and have looked forward to this for months, and it was perfect,” I babble, not able to shut up in her presence.

“Gazie.” Her eyes shoot to the man beside me, and she asks kindly, “Would you like an autograph, dear?”

My mouth drops open, because I have to be dreaming. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

She waves a hand, grabs a program from tonight off the dressing table nearest us, and signs, “Elain, It was lovely to meet you. Cecilia.”

Then she hands it to me, not possibly knowing how much it means, and says, “Come back anytime.”

I nod overzealously, too stunned by the events that have gone down in the last ten minutes to say anything witty besides, “Thank you so much. It was so wonderful to meet you.”

She kisses my cheeks again, nods to Azriel, then moves back toward the couch. He says something else that has her rolling her eyes, but he pulls me from the room before I can try and decipher it.

As soon as it shuts behind us, I turn and smack his shoulder.

He looks adorably confused, but I’m on an adrenaline high and don’t stop to appreciate the expression.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you know her! Or that that’s where you were taking me! I could’ve... I don’t know, fixed my hair or something!”

Smiling, he smooths a hand over the slightly curled locks resting on my shoulder and shakes his head. “She’s an old friend of mine. It’s why I came. And you look perfect.”

I ignore the tingly sensation that statement gives me. “You’re friends with Cecilia Bartoli.”

I say it as a statement, but it still sounds ridiculous.

He shrugs. Shrugs.

I shake my head in bewilderment, not knowing what else to do, and he chuckles. “Come with me”

I do.

He leads me upstairs and outside, then down the Sicilian streets until we find a beautiful, quiet bar close to where I’m staying. It’s candlelit and romantic and this entire night sounds like a fairytale.

We take one of the many abandoned booths and order, then he leans back, drapes a long arm over the back of the booth, and looks at me like he’s content to do just that all night long.

“Why are you in Sicily?” he finally asks as our drinks are being set in front of us.

I take a sip of wine and respond, “I start at the Culinary Institute on Monday.”

Two days from now, and I could hardly freaking wait.

“You must be a talented chef, then. That’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world.”

“I guess. What about you?” I ask, desperate to talk about him instead of me. “What do you do for a living?”

He pauses, takes a drink. “I’m in security.”

That would explain the fact he could blend in at a boxing match or a board meeting.

“How is your English so good, by the way?”

Another pause, this one longer than the one before. “I lived in Chicago for a while.” I’m about to ask why he moved, or maybe why his expression got darker when I asked him that when he beats me to it. “How long does the program last?”

It’s my turn to pause and stall with a sip. “Just the summer.”

He nods, taking that in stride, even though it feels much more dramatic to me. Of course I’d meet someone handsome and kind and interesting when I’m only in town for three months, two weeks, and six days.

Suddenly, I’m worried he won’t want to continue this date, knowing it’s all but pointless, considering I’m not here permanently.

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking, Elain.”

I look back up to find him studying me, hazel eyes serious. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

He reaches over and taps my bottom lip. “I know you’re frowning. And you’re beautiful when you frown, caro, but I much prefer your smile. So stop worrying about it and just enjoy the moment.”

“Okay,” I agree, vowing to do exactly that.

“Okay,” he parrots, taking another sip of his drink and tilting his head. “Why Cecilia Bartoli?”

I take a deep breath and try to think about how to phrase this. “My mom died when I was younger, and I lost my dad when I was fifteen. It hit me hard, and I couldn’t find the will to live, much less smile. And then one day, I was sitting outside the restaurant I was waitressing at, and our chef played a song by her.”

“And it was just... one of those life changing moments I’ll never forget. Her music got me through the hardest part of my life, and I’ve grown to appreciate it even more over the years.”

He smiles sadly. “Thank you for telling me that.”

I shrug, once again a little uncomfortable. “You’re easy to talk to.”

“So are you. I want to get to know you.”

We spend the next to hours talking.

We talk until the place is empty and I’m sure the owner is ruing the day we were born, but I can’t bring myself to stop. His dry commentary makes me laugh, his occasional smile makes my knees weak, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world makes my heart pound.

The music is still playing, even though the bartender is nowhere to be found, and since I’ve had pretty much the best night of my life and am just tipsy enough to be bold, I stand and offer my hand.

“Dance with me, please.”

His lips twitch, even as he says, “I don’t dance.”

I frown, and his eyes narrow. “Well, if you want me smiling and happy, I suggest you change your policy.”

He snorts but gives in, sliding from the booth and taking me in his arms gently. One of his palms is cradling mine, the other is on the dip of my spine, and for a moment, we simply sway to the crackly sounds coming from the old stereo.

We dance through the tables, and he turns out to be much better than I expected, twirling me and leading me effortlessly. Or maybe that’s just him.

He’s obviously a born leader, someone who’s always in control, and it’s refreshing to be with someone confident but not overbearing.

My head rests against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart soothes an ache in my soul I never realized I had. “You smell good,” I tell him, very matter-of-factly.

It’s a weird thing to say, but I kind of can’t help it.

He smells like smoke and spices, the combination so addictive it’s all I can think about as we move together.

The hand on my back moves to the back of my head, and it quickly shifts from dancing to being held in his arms. We’re still swaying, but it’s more of a hug, both of us simply enjoying the feeling of the other against us.

His hand glides through my hair, and it feels so good I close my eyes.

I try telling myself I’ve known him a handful of hours, but it’s no good. He’s somehow transitioned from a stranger to someone I’ve known for years, someone I’m comfortable around.

So when he pulls back and mumbles, “I want to kiss you,” against my ear, I let him.

And when he walks me to the townhouse I’m renting, kisses me slowly, and gives me a business card with his number on it, I promise to call.

____________________________

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @ireallyshouldsleeprn @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @elorcan-trash @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @biggestwingspan-az

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

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headheartbellarke · 3 years

Text

LIGHT A FIRE IN MY EYES | Owen Patrick Joyner

PAIRING(S): Charlie Gillespie’s sister!Reader x Owen Patrick Joyner

WARNING(S): fluff, angst

WORDS: 3.4k

SUMMARY: where Y/N is charlie gillespie’s sister, and while living with him and owen, unexpected feelings rise up. (im so bad at these)

READER’S POV

A rhythmic knock on my bedroom door breaks me out of my trance. I push my glasses further up my nose and close my physics textbook, dropping my pencil between the pages to bookmark it. Pushing myself off the chair, I stretch my arms above my head – I’ve been sitting at my desk for about five hours now, trying to revise everything for my exam tomorrow. I walk over to my door, and unlock it, and I’m greeted by my brother, Charlie. He takes in my appearance and frowns.

“I thought you were still sleeping. When did you get up?”

“Uhh…” I trail off, looking behind me at the clock mounted on the wall opposite to me. 10:30 AM. “About 5, yeah.”

I turn back and notice my brother widening his eyes. “Are you okay, little one?”

I’m not a morning person, under no circumstances ever. Growing up, I’ve always been the last person to wake up – Charlie being the first. So, I guess it’s awfully unusual for him to hear this.

“This is college, honey. You wouldn’t know.” I shrug at him and he grins. I’ve always hated the fact that he got a free pass from college, since he’s an actor.

That is also the reason why he’s here. We grew up in Canada – Charlie, me, my two other older brothers and my twin sister Meghan. Growing up, Charlie, Meghan and I were inseparable – since we’re closer in age – Charlie’s only two years older than Meghan and me. But I had to leave home for college – I got into Caltech, and that was not an opportunity I was about to give up, even though Charlie protested so many times that I’m apparently the baby of the house and I shouldn’t go to another country alone.

Now, he’s living with me – he is shooting for his show, Julie and The Phantoms (proud sister, here), and they have a couple of scenes and some recording to do in LA, so he’s staying in my apartment for a week, along with his friend, co-star and roommate back in Vancouver, Owen. Previously, they lived with me for more than a month when they had to go through musical bootcamp or something for the sake of the show. (So proud.)

That was also when I’d developed a massive crush on Owen.

Charlie was living with me for a good two weeks when, one day, he took me out to meet the rest of the cast. (Who were all lovely, by the way.) On the drive there, he told me that Owen had been living in a hotel since he’s originally from Oklahoma, and that Charlie’s thinking of asking him to come live with us, if I was okay with that. Of course, I had said yes. I had ample space in my duplex apartment and living alone is boring. So, Charlie introduced me to Owen and we immediately hit it off. Of course, I thought that he was incredibly attractive when we met. But I meet a lot of attractive people at university.

Then, we started living together, and I realized how amazing Owen actually is. He’s an absolute dork – but he’s also funny, very kind, thoughtful, compassionate, altruistic and so, so nice. Both of us have a lot in common, and there’s always been this unsaid, unacknowledged chemistry between us that a lot of the other cast members had picked up on. (Not my brother, though. He would have killed Owen.) We had so much fun when we were together – he turned everything into an adventure. The best part was that I got to be myself, completely, whenever I was around him. I got to talk about whatever I wanted with him – he never, ever judged me.

Before they went to Vancouver when production for the show began, we had a last night out with the rest of the cast and a bunch of family members – except the kids. We went to this bar near my college. I was so, so drunk and then I suddenly started feeling queasy and Owen offered to take me home since Charlie was in the same position. There was so much traffic and Owen and I kept singing whatever song was on the radio to pass the time – LA traffic – when we were both leaning across our seats and we started kissing. I remember feeling like I would burst from the happiness and the softness, the affection, the admiration that he had in his eyes when he looked at me.

Of course, I fell asleep pretty soon after the traffic dissipated and woke up next morning to find him packing for his trip. That was when I’d realized that no matter how much I liked him, we could never be together. First of all, long distance relationships almost never work out, and secondly, he’s my brother’s best friend. That was why I chose to just give him a quick hug goodbye and head to college – without even bothering to drop them off at the airport, or even talking to him.

He texted and called a couple of times after that, too. But I never responded, never even opened any of his texts – because I knew that once I do that, I would definitely call him. That went on for a week, and the only time we spoke was when he’d texted me from Savannah’s phone: why are you ignoring me? I texted back all the reasons why we couldn’t ever be together, and I didn’t hear from him for another week, until Charlie called me the day before yesterday, telling me that they have a couple of scenes to do in LA, along with some recording stuff, and they’ll stay with me for a few days. I had to approve, or else Charlie might figure out everything.

They arrived yesterday, and I think that I’ve done a pretty good job of ignoring him so far.

Charlie’s voice breaks me out of my train of thoughts. “You have exams or what?”

I nod. “Applied physics, tomorrow. Are you going out?” I ask, pointing at his dark blue jeans.

“Madi and I are writing this song together. You’ll love it.”

I smile at him. “If I’m not the first one to hear it –”

He hums, a chuckle escaping him. I lean against the doorframe, as he continues, “Owen just woke up. He doesn’t start his scenes until tomorrow, so I told him to take care of you today, while I’m away.”

I ignore the way my heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name and flatten my lips. “I’m 19, Charlie, I can –”

“Take care of yourself, blah blah blah. I don’t care.”

I roll my eyes, and playfully shove him forward. He stumbles a few steps backwards and furrows his brows at me. “Ouch!”

“Are you taking my car?”

He nods. “Where –”

“In the magnetic key holder on the fridge.”

“Okay, sis.” He smiles at me, leaning forward to ruffle my hair – which makes it even messier than it already was. “Go away!” I grumble, trying to pat his hand away. “Never!” He calls out, turning toward the kitchen to grab the keys.

I shake my head and laugh. “Love you!”

He shouts back, without looking behind at me. “Love you most!”

****

The delicious smell of pancakes reminds me of the fact that I haven’t eaten since last night. I drag my feet to the kitchen, mentally preparing myself for the person I’m about to encounter in there.

“Uh, hi…” I hesitantly call out, entering the kitchen – and notice a very shirtless Owen, with his very shirtless back turned towards me. He turns around at the sound of my voice, and a few strands of golden blonde hair fall across his eyes. I long to reach my hand across and push those away.

Instead, he himself does that as his eyes flit over me, and a look of pain flashes through his eyes. I hate that I’m the cause of that.

“I was wondering how you would ignore me when we’re living in the same apartment.”

“I deserve that.” I walk over to the stove to stand beside him.

He ignores me and goes back to flipping golden brown pancakes which smell amazing, but all I can focus on is the curve of his back, the hollow space between his collarbones, and the way his hands grip on the pan a little too hard. I feel a warmth course through my body and find myself missing the way he used to wrap his arms around me from behind in the mornings when Charlie was still asleep.

“Owen,” I whisper, and he inhales sharply at that. “Please. I don’t want things to be like this – I don’t want us to be like this.”

He uses his spatula to lift the pancake and puts it atop other pancakes on a plate beside the stove and turns it off. He turns around to face me, biting his lip and I think I just had an aneurysm because of the intensity of his gaze.

He sighs, leaning against the counter. “Y/N. You made it pretty clear that there would never be an ‘us.’”

“I know. But we can still be friends, right? Like we were before… everything.”

“See, that’s the thing. I can’t. Y/N, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through for the past two weeks?” He snaps.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” I reply, hotly. “Owen, it broke me inside to ask you to stay away. Do you have any idea how much I care about you?”

“No! I don’t, because you don’t talk to me, Y/N.”

“I told you, there is no point in doing long distance –”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N, and you know it, too. I think you’re just too scared to be with me because you think that I’d break your heart, leave you alone or hurt you. But that’s the thing, Y/N – I won’t do any of that to you, because that’s exactly what you’re doing to me.” He crosses his arms across his chest.

I breathe out shakily, running a hand through my curls. “That’s not true –”

Owen scoffs. “Please, Y/N. I know you.”

I lower my eyes from his because I can’t handle the way he’s looking at me.

“Y/N, do you know how fucking hard the past week’s been for me? I can’t even talk to anyone about it, because the only person I wanna talk to is your brother and we all know what will happen if I do that. He’s my best friend, and I’ve been lying to him for weeks, pretending that I like this hairdresser, when in reality, I’m head over heels for his sister. I can’t tell him that I can’t stop thinking about her, and that she’s the only person that can calm me down when I get anxious on set. I can’t tell him that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it’s killing me inside to not talk to her!”

He finishes, breathing out heavily. I look at his eyes and notice that they’re gleaming.

“Wait, what hairdresser?”

He scoffs, annoyed. “Seriously, Y/N?”

I shrug and breathe deeply, trying to stop myself from taking his hands in my own. “You know, there are so many guys at school that ask me out, but I can’t go out with any of them, because guess what, they’re not you. I like you so much, Owen, so, so much, but I can’t do anything about it – because you’re right. I’m scared. I’m terrified that you’ll leave me, because I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time. I’m so scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize that I’m not who you want anymore. I’m scared that maybe you’ll hurt me or meet someone else in Vancouver. I’m scared about so many things because that’s exactly how much I care about you, Owen!”

I take a step further and we are standing mere inches apart. I can feel him breathe out raggedly and see the curve of his nose and his darkened eyes flickering to my lips.

“I would never, ever do that to you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me. Please, please believe me.” He whispers out, and I tell myself to stop, to turn back, to go into my room but instead I just stand there and watch him exhale out, and I know he’s feeling anxious. I lift a hand to his face and cup his cheek in the palm of my hand and he leans his face onto my hand, resting his right hand over mine. The gesture calms the both of us down, and I know, in that moment, that I believe him. That he, us – is a risk worth taking.

“Your hands are so cold.” He whispers. I nod. “Yours are warm.”

Both of us stand there, in the kitchen, trying to make sense of what just happened – trying to hold on to this moment. A silence engulfs the both of us, as I sort through my thoughts.

“Owen,” I whisper. He flicks his eyes to mine. “Promise me you won’t do any of that.”

He raises his left hand, jutting out his little finger. I raise my other hand too, and he wraps his little finger around mine and whispers back, “Pinkie promise.”

“Okay.” I whisper, neither of us daring to uncurl our fingers or look anywhere else.

“Promise me that you wouldn’t leave me for some future tech billionaire.”

I scrunch my face up at that. “What? No!”

“Promise me you’d call –”

“Every single day, Owen. You too.”

Both of us nod together, and he lifts his other hand to tuck a curl that had previously escaped from my actually-messy-and-not-cute bun. “You’re so beautiful.”

I smile, and a tear escapes my eyes – Owen rubbing it away with his thumb. I lean forward, standing on my tiptoes and rest my hands against his bare chest for support as I press my lips to his. He smiles against the kiss, and I feel as if a zoo has gone wild in my stomach. I feel warmth and happiness course through my veins as Owen deepens the kiss, the intense longing in the both of us for each other clawing its way out to the surface. It’s almost as if I’m drinking water for the first time in a week. He tastes like banana pancakes, chocolate syrup and everything good in the world. I press myself against him, wrapping my arms around neck while he does the same around my torso. It frightens me a little how well our bodies fit against each other – but it makes me feel strong knowing that I have an amazing person who genuinely cares about me.

****

CHARLIE’S POV

Charlie unlocked the door to his sister’s apartment, mentally noting to remind her of the fact that her car desperately needs a wash. He enters the foyer, and drops the keys in a bowl, kicking off his shoes.

Suddenly, he pauses, noticing how incredibly quiet the apartment is – which is unlike Y/N. She always has music blasting or the TV running – she hates the quiet. He quickly walks into the living room and almost screams in surprise.

His little sister and his best friend are curled up on the sofa, their backs towards him. Y/N is lying on Owen’s chest and she has an arm wrapped around his torso while Owen’s arms are interlocked at the front, holding her against his body. Their tangled legs peek from underneath the quilt that Charlie and Y/N’s mother knit for her youngest daughter last Christmas. She laughs at something that Owen whispers into her ear, and he presses a kiss to her forehead, and they look at each other with so much adoration that Charlie has to look away.

He sighs, mentally cursing himself for being so, so stupid. How could he have ignored the signs? Charlie remembers Y/N and Owen meeting, both in a daze, both smiling a little too much and Y/N walking with a skip in her steps. He remembers them talking for hours on end, binging Brooklyn 99 on weekends, and always hanging out with each other whenever they went to the same parties. He remembers that morning three weeks ago when he’d woken up late, and gone to the kitchen only to find the duo springing apart from each other, both erupting in a flurry of coughs and laughs, as if he’d just walked on them robbing a bank – Owen had explained that he had apparently broken a glass. He remembers the way Owen would look at her, as if she had just done something miraculous. He remembers the way Y/N would look at his best friend, as if he was made of everything good in the world.

Most of all, he remembers how Owen sulked whenever he was alone back in Vancouver. He remembers how Owen constantly declined to go out with that cute hairdresser. He remembers how Owen sometimes seemed out of it. He remembers how Owen would sprint whenever Charlie called his sister. He remembers how Owen would keep checking his phone every few minutes in between takes.

Charlie also remembers his sister asking about how Owen is when they talked on the phone, and how her voice seemed like she was asking something that was forbidden, something that was evil. He remembers how she would always hang up the phone whenever she heard Owen’s voice. He remembers her always declining his invites to go to Vancouver.

How could he have been so dumb? The signs were right there. He lived with Owen, for god’s sake! Charlie feels an array of emotions. He’s always hated Y/N’s choice in men, despised anyone putting their hands on his baby sister’s body.

But, to see them like this – to see Y/N look so safe, so comfortable in Owen’s arms, he can’t help but feel relief flood into his system. Because he knows his best friend, and he knows what kind of person he is. And now, he thinks just how much sense they make together. Sure, Owen is kind of stupid, reckless, impulsive, and clumsy – but so is Y/N – well, she’s not stupid, he thinks. She’s the smartest person in their family. But she has a fire within her – and his best friend matches that fire. Charlie thinks of the fact that they complement each other so nicely, both are caring, passionate, and kind-hearted. Of course, they would fall for each other. It just makes so much sense – they make so much sense.

Still, Charlie feels hurt that neither of them bothered to tell him about it. (even though he won’t admit it, it’s understandable, really – considering the way he’s bugged his sister about her previous relationships.)

He clears his throat and the duo on the couch jump apart, both flushed and with their eyes widened. Owen stands up, moving away from couch, while Y/N looks at her brother as if he’s a ghost.

A silence falls over the apartment. Y/N finally says, “How’d you – how’d you get in?”

He shrugs. “I had a spare key.”

Owen looks between his girlfriend and his best friend, with widened eyes. “Charlie, I’m so sorry –”

Suddenly, Charlie laughs, swatting at the air. “Pfft. You think I’m gonna be the weird brother who kills his best friend for dating his sister? Come on, this isn’t a TV show. I’m actually really happy for you guys – I ignored all the signs these past weeks, but I see them now. Of course, it’s really weird for me, but I love the both of you so much. Owen, relax, I’m not gonna kill you. Dude. Just don’t kiss or anything in front of me, cause that’s gross. Ew. You know what, don’t do that at all. And I’ll kill you, Owen, if you ever hurt her, I swear. I’ll put poison in your waffles. I just don’t understand why –”

Charlie is cut off by his sister tackling him in a hug. He wraps his arms around her body, as she whispers, “I love you, big brother.”

He murmurs, “Love you most, little one.” He catches Owen’s eye who looks at him with gratefulness and a little smile.

****

READ ON AO3 WITH OC!

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apherod · 3 years

Text

Rubian Soulmate AU

I finally finished writing it ahhhh

I eventually decided that I was going for a sketch-style writing for this. Just short bits and pieces here and there, piecing together some scenes, but not fully fleshed out into a storyline (it coincides with the original story mostly anyway)

So here it is! Enjoy!

This is a Liam and Ruby Soulmate AU requested by an anon (possibly @thedarkestcrew?) ask, in which damage done to one half of the soulmate pair would translate to the other half.

Word count: 4400

===

Liam

“Where did all these bruises come from?”

I was driving through Highway 95 in Maryland when I noticed the bruises crowning my knuckles. They just…appeared, like petals floating to the surface of water. It is possible that I punched something—or someone—at some point in the last few days, or tripped and fell, and using…my fists to break the fall? But I don’t recall doing any of that.

Then again, my head hadn’t been the most reliable in these past few weeks, either.

They weren’t the first. A couple of weeks ago, I woke up with a cut on my upper arm, and the blood drenched half of my sleeve, but the sleeve wasn’t torn or cut, so it couldn’t have been me… Another one came a few days after that, when I was driving, and a sudden searing pain came to my wrist, like I was burnt by a frying pan, but that part of my skin wasn’t even touching anything. The list goes on.

I think I’m going insane.

Some people…some who are lucky enough to find their soulmates, found themselves with identical wounds on them, because when one half of that bond gets hurt, the other one suffers, too. Mom’s bruises never translated onto our birth dad. Maybe that was why he was so okay with hurting her. It wasn’t until she met Harry, did that magic—or curse—work on both of them.

But that’s exactly that—it only happens after you’ve met the person. If I’ve somehow met her, and didn’t know who she was, then I’ve really screwed up. Big time.

It couldn’t have been anyone in Caledonia, otherwise I would’ve known. No one from home, either. There weren’t even that many of us left. Could it be someone from East River? For some reason, I just couldn’t be sure… There’re this weird quality in my memory when I think of East River, glowing tinge surrounding everything, blurring details, and flaring up the edges, making it hard to see for too long.

Also, if I met her in East River, why isn’t she with me?

If she’s really out there, I felt sorry for all the pain I’ve caused her in the past few days. When I narrowly escaped that group of Skip Tracers, my arms were all cut up, real pretty. I can’t imagine the horror she must have felt when her arms just, out of nowhere, started spontaneously bleeding half of her blood out.

I really ought to take better care of myself, even if it’s just for her sake.

When I crossed the state boarder into Pennsylvania, I managed to find an old payphone, and left a voice mail for my brother to let him know where I am, and that I’m coming his way. I didn’t want to—asking for Cole’s help was one of the few things that I genuinely want to avoid—but I’m really desperate.

The truth is, just imagining him gloating about this—about me needing his help—was almost enough to make me turn around. Think about the last time I asked for his help… didn’t work out so well, did it? But whatever Cole has to offer, whatever nightmare I have to live through going back to the League, is better than being hauled back into the camp.

I don’t think they’d actually take me back into a camp, anyway.

When I got passed the wrong Wilmington, I briefly glimpsed the road sign that read US 13, and a voice suddenly rang in my head.

Turn off here. It urged.

The feeling was distinctly different from my reluctance to meet Cole—it was a drive, asking me to go somewhere, rather than run from somewhere.

Whatever it was, I can’t listen, no matter how hard I wanted to, no matter how it warmed my heart just thinking about that impulse, like it would lead me home, even though I had no idea how.

I got into the city of Philadelphia, and found my brother’s apartment soon enough. When I got into his building, a woman threw me a sideway glance that made my hair stood on their ends.

Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me… I muttered in my head while I pressed the buzzer. The door swung opened, and I was snatched inside by a forceful arm.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Cole snarled before I could even lay eyes on him properly. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”

He looked much better than me, that much was clear. Cole never had any wound that wasn’t his own, and from the looks of him, he hadn’t seen much action lately. His hair was clean-cut, brushed neatly away from his face. He was wearing a white shirt and dark blue jeans, with metal-frame glasses which were clearly without diopters to finish the look. In this getup, you’d expect him to be a graduate student in U Penn, not a high school dropout.

“I… I didn’t have any money to place a call.” I muttered, feeling my voice getting smaller. Gosh, I hated this. I hated that I felt like a child again. I took off my jacket, and hung it on the peg right next to his. They were two identical black leather jackets, which Mom bought us years ago—she got them a couple of sizes bigger than we were at the time, in anticipation that we would eventually grow into them. Cole did, whereas I felt like I still hadn’t.

Cole let out a long and harsh breath, and gave me a scan head to toe. “You’ve seen better days.” He commented eventually, a subtle amusement in his tone. “Even for you, this is a bit excessive…” He gingerly lifted my right wrist, and got a good look at my forearm, all cut up.

You don’t say. I wanted to retort, but didn’t. “What are you doing in Philly?” I asked as I retracted my hand.

Cole raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”

Maybe not. “I’d probably know eventually, wouldn’t I?” I said.

He scratched his chin, frowning. “You know what this means, right? You know where we’re going?”

“Look, if I could just find Mom and Harry…” I began, but he raised his hand and stopped me.

“No,” He snapped, “We don’t have that kind of time. My assignment here is done. I’m being extracted at midnight, which is in less than four hours, and if you think I’d let you out running into the wild and being hauled into a camp again, you’d have another thought coming.”

Choose me. I remembered the subtext of what Cole said that night when he left home, and now it was ringing in a different tone. Now I don’t have a choice.

“All right.” I sighed. “Whatever you say.”

He frowned deeper. But it took him a while to say something. “Look, I know the last time you came with me, it didn’t end so well, but things are turning around.” He said, palms down, pacifying. “I promise, just stick it out a few months.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

He bit his lip. “I just do. Trust me.” He said, then gave me a tight smile, “Tell you what, I’ll go get us something to eat, and you clearly need a shower.” He took off his glasses, grabbed the keys, then, as if remembered something, added with a grin, “Do not, drown in the bathtub.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes.

Before he could open the door, though, I stopped him. “Cole,” I began, but didn’t really know how to finish.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“Have we...” I caught myself just for a moment. What am I doing? “...have we ever been to Virginia Beach?”

Because that…memory? was so vivid, that I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, calling me at every moment I so much as allowed my mind to idle for a second. But it also had that bright glare around it, like it didn’t really belong to me, like I was seeing it through a mirror, into a different dimension where we were all happier people.

Cole was there, looking exactly like how he was now, but Claire was also there, and that didn’t make any sense…

“No…?” Cole said, “We lived in Wilmington. We went to Wrightsville, remember?”

Of course I do, but… I shook my head. “It’s just… I kept seeing this…memory, that we were there, and Claire was there, too…”

Cole pressed his lips tight. I know mentioning Claire’s name would probably put him on edge, but it’s not like I have other people to talk about her with anyway. A part of me wanted to be a bit mean about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t have the strength.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, voice rigid. “Just go take your shower. I’ll be back with the food.”

And he left, leaving me alone in his white and bare apartment.

I still couldn’t be sure that it was a good idea coming here. If I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t even about my negative view on the League, or what it had turned my brother into, but that…I’m not sure how to be his brother anymore. I’m not even sure that he needs a brother.

Hell. Looking around this place, I got the feeling that a brother wasn’t the only thing he didn’t need. But then again, knowing how Cole kept his room, it was maybe a good thing that he had so few belongings here. This place…it didn’t even feel like someone actually live here; there were so few things breaking the white of the walls, it was almost glaring to my eyes.

I first went to check his bed, to see if he still has that weird habit—falling asleep with cigarettes still in his hand. His bedsheet looked clean enough; nothing charred. No ashtray, either. Maybe he quit.

Satisfied, I went to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pants from his closet, and dived into the pressurized water in his shower.

I can’t remember when was the last time I had running water. Probably…when I was in the League’s safe house? Gosh. My skin is so filthy, the water only started running clean after a good ten minutes of scrubbing, and I was scrubbing hard.

I was extra careful when I cleaned my arms, though. Not particularly because I was scared of pain, but more that I didn’t want to hurt this…person who might share this unfortunate connection with me, however low the chance might be. I didn’t want to make her suffer even more—somehow, I knew it was a her, for reasons I couldn’t quite put into words.

When I got out of the shower, I felt like my entire body had been turned inside out. My skin was glowing pink against the white tiling of Cole’s bathroom. He is an inch or two taller than me—which was sore to admit, but hey, I went through puberty in a lot worse condition than he did—so his pants hung a little too long around my ankles.

Then I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I looked awful. The dark shadows under my eyes were so purple, they looked almost black. Not to mention the countless scratches and bruises. There was a new one on my left cheek, just above the jawline. Whether it was mine or hers, I didn’t know.

Just as I threw the towel over my head, and started rubbing the water away from my hair, I heard it—siren. It began from a distance, a low wailing, but it was enough to set every hair on my back on its end. As I flew out of Cole’s shower, grabbed my jacket, and rushed to the window side, the siren got closer—and multiplied. The sound of them were like a harmony from hell.

Should I run? Should I stay?

I should run.

Even though they might not be coming for me, I knew better than to push my luck—it hadn’t really been on my side recently, and that woman who looked at me a second too long when I got in the building was probably proving me right. I threw the apartment door open, and on a second thought, ran for the roof instead of the ground floor.

I can reconvene with Cole later. I need to stay out of sight now. Cole’s a smart guy, he knows what to do in a situation like this.

It had started raining. I tripped on a mossy patch on the rooftop, and almost broke my jaw, but I stood up and kept running. I pushed myself over the ledge of the next building, and sprinted for the fire escape on the far end. The sound of the first bullet fired almost made me lose my bearing when I lowered myself onto the metal shaft.

They are on the other side. There were two fully populated buildings between me and those bullets, and they were firing at someone else—which means I’m not who they’re after. These are all good news.

Right?

Since when had I been that lucky after I turned twelve?

I pulled the hood of the jacket over my head, and dove into the shadow of the next alley. The gunfire had stopped, which meant that they probably got whoever they were after. I took the long way around the block, trying to get a hang of the situation, getting an idea of where I could find Cole without being spotted—

Oh, I found him alright.

Fuck. No. Fuck.

I only caught sight of him for a second before they slammed the back of that van shut, and in that brief second, he looked up, and he saw me.

No.

Christ. No. I… I got him caught. I did… I did this… Why didn’t I warn him? Why didn’t I go to him as soon as I heard the siren?

What have I done?

If you’re caught, you’re disavowed. I still remembered that phrase like it was etched into my skull. If anything encapsulates what I hate about the League the most, this is it. And now, Cole is going to be another casualty under that cold hard rule. The thought almost made my knees buckled, but instead of crashing down, I up and ran.

I ran. From this nightmare of my own making.

+++

Ruby

“Ruby!”

The scream came before the punch could land. I didn’t register what was happening in that first moment, not until the blood was dripping down my elbows, and staining the blue mats under us.

“Go to the infirmary!” Coach Johnson ordered, and I gladly obeyed. I could hear the whispering judgements forming even before I left the training room—what was that? What’s wrong with her? Where did those come from?

I knew exactly where they came from.

If Chubs was here, he’d likely yell at me for not getting these wounds taken care of immediately, but I simply…couldn’t. I ran for the shower stall, being careful not to stain the curtain, and turn on the tap.

With the water pouring out the showerhead, steaming up every bit of air around me, blurring my vision, I finally let the tears fall.

My arms didn’t hurt that much. At least, not as much as my heart. The bruises were bearable—who doesn’t get those occasionally living in the wild? I got one every other day even just from the training. But these cuts…he was in danger. Maybe he only got away with it within an inch of his life.

The only consolation I had was that I wasn’t mortally wounded, which meant he wasn’t, either. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t regret my decision of letting him go every second of every day.

If I did that to protect him, all these wounds and bruises only proved how wrong I was, how in vain my suffering had been.

“Ruby?” Cate’s voice.

I swallowed hard before answering. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?” She asked, standing outside of my stall.

“Yes.” I lied.

“Coach Johnson said you were hurt—” She didn’t buy it. “Look, if you don’t want to go to the infirmary, I can take a look—”

“I’m fine.” I cut her off. The timer on the tap beeped, warning me that the water would start running cold. My blood was dripping down from my fingers, dropping into the shallow water on the concrete floor like roses blooming in the snow.

“Ruby, I can see the blood.” Cate said dryly, then softer, coaxing. “Come out, please. Let me dress your wounds.”

Only if I could just close my eyes, and pretend for a second that the person who was waiting for me with antiseptic was Chubs, not Cate. If only I could pretend that these wounds were mine, not of the boy that I dreamt of every night for the past few months.

If only I could pretend that they were here with me, or that I wasn’t here at all.

I sighed, and brushed the curtain open. To Cate’s credit, she didn’t flinch at the sight of me. “Oh, Ruby…” She said with a tone like I was a stray cat ready to be put down. She reached out, and gingerly lifted my hand to get a better look at my arm.

“Press on it.” She handed me a towel, and sat down on the bench before patting the empty space beside her, motioning for me to join her.

I did as she said as she tore open a paper package. “This is going to hurt a little…” She gently dabbed the fabric square on my wounds, and I hissed out of reflex. I hated this. I hated showing her my weakness, and I guessed, in a weird way, she understood that. She didn’t comment on any of it, only continued to wrap my arms up in silence.

“There.” When she’s done, both of my forearms were wrapped entirely in gauzes.

“Th…thank you.” I managed to choke out.

She gave me a tender smile. “Don’t mention it.” She stood up, collecting the empty packages off the bench, and turned to leave.

Before she was out of the door, however, she turned around, and said, “You know, you get those wounds together, and you heal together, too.” She paused for a second, “You’re…not entirely helpless in this situation.”

Ten minutes after she left, I was still sitting on that bench, pondering her words. I didn’t even know what she said was true, but if it was, it meant that when I took care of myself, I took care of him, too. That, somehow, didn’t seem so bad.

I wondered how Cate knew that. She and Rob were clearly not soulmates, and I didn’t even know why she would want to date him, even without considering that fact. Rob—ruthless, arrogant, hateful—was everything opposite to what she seemed to hold dear.

But then again, she probably didn’t understand why someone would find their soulmate only to let them go on their own.

That day when I let Liam go, I made a decision that I would be whoever the League wants me to be, and make it so that they wouldn’t miss him. And for the longest time, I had kept to that promise. But not today, not now.

I just want to be myself again, even if it’s just for a moment.

So I brushed open the curtain to the stall, and allowed myself to be vulnerable again, for everyone and no one to see.

+++

His eyes traveled from my face to where the water had collected on my chest, and I raised my arms just that much higher.

His mouth half-opened for what I was sure to be a snide remark, but whatever it was never managed to pass his lips. His face froze, brows drew together, and he reached out. Before I could shift away—to where though, I had no idea; my back was already against the wall—he grabbed my wrist, and lifted my arm.

“It was you.” Cole said with a tone of half astonishment, half…anger?

“What was?” I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide how much I felt like a kid being caught red-handed, stealing candy bars.

He threw me a “really?” look. “Don’t insult my intelligence.” He snapped, “These are Liam’s, aren’t they?”

I almost asked “how do you know”, but that would confirm his suspicion. “What makes you say that?” I asked instead.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing games with you.” He huffed, “Soulmates should stick together. What were you thinking sending him out into the wild? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is to you? Or you to him? The poor bastard doesn’t even know you exist!”

“And as long as I stay in the League, that fact shall remain.” I said, more resolute and calmer than I thought possible.

He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sainthood complex you have going on, I’m telling you—you are not doing either of you any favors, and if you think this is somehow a good idea, I beg you, think again, because you definitely look smarter than this.”

“What do you know?” I retorted, finally couldn’t keep the lid on my anger anymore. “Do you have any idea how much he hates it here? How hard he was trying to avoid this place before you drag him into this mess?”

Cole really laughed. “You think I don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I met his glare head on. “I was the one that let him go when he got away that first time.” He tried to brush his hair back with his hand, but it gave out a weird flex before he could reach his head. “And I’ve seen enough soulmates pairs in my life to know that I never want one. Have you any idea what would happen to him if you were injured when he was on the run? Soulmates stick together so they don’t double their chances on dying, but I guess no one ever set your logic straight, did they?”

My head was so flushed with anger that I actually let him finished.

“Go find him.” Cole snapped. “And for Christ’s sake, stay together this time.”

+++

Liam

“I didn’t need freedom; I needed you!” I half-screamed, trying to get the frustration out past the chaos raging in my head. How could I—? How could she—? What the hell—?

On the receiving end of my scream, Ruby’s face was painted with grief, lined with tears that almost made my anger buckle. Almost.

“Did you just…not want to be with me anymore?” Facing her silence, my pain came out softer eventually. Please, just tell me, and I will leave you alone.

“No…” She choked out. “I… I was wrong.” She swallowed hard before continuing, and despite the anger still roaming my vein, I wanted to reach out and touch her. “We should…we should stay together. I knew I couldn’t bear to see you with the League, see them take away all the good in you that I love…”

“Is that how you think of me?” I snapped before I realized what I was doing, “That I am so weak that the League is bound to break me?”

“No!” She shook her head violently, “No, I don’t think you are weak… If anything, I think you are much stronger than me. But I was weak.” She finally looked back at me, her green eyes gleaming in the dim light of this dust-covered room. “I’m so sorry.”

Before I could react to what she said—I didn’t even know what I was going to say or do—the sound of a gunshot broke every single thought clean out of my head.

Ruby was running before I could do anything about it. She pushed the door of the shop open, and another shot blew open the window on the outside, shattering the glass all over the floor.

“Ruby!” I shouted as I dodged, crouching with my hands over my ears, but she was already up and running again, out of the door and behind the woman that was escaping the scene—with a gun in her hands.

“Ruby, stop!” I shouted again, got on my feet to catch her, but I never manage. I skidded on the broken glass, and fell, hands first, into the shards.

I heard her hiss. She stopped dead on her way, and whirled around to find me on the floor, holding my right hand on my laps, pressing it against the fabric of my jeans to try and stop the bleeding.

The blood was dripping down to her fingers. As she walked slowly towards me, the red, looking almost black, dropped on the dust-covered floor, leaving a spotting route, marking her path. When she knelt down beside me, finally close enough to touch me, I found that she was smiling. A totally mirthless, wry and painful smile.

“Give me your hand.” She said softly, almost like a whisper.

“You should treat yours first.” I said, trying to catch her hand, to see how much of a damage I’d done.

“We only need to treat one of us.” She let out a small breath, almost like something caught there. “We get them together, and we heal them together, too.”

That, somehow, broke through all the mess in my head and reached my mind. I let her take my arm, and carefully wrap her scarf on my hand, all the while her words played on repeat in my head.

We get them together, and we heal them together, too.

When she was done wrapping my hand up, the wounds on her hand stopped bleeding, too. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t even completely over that anger or frustration—but when she placed her hand in mine, a tender “there” escaping her lips, all I wanted to do was kiss her.

Instead, I gently enveloped my fingers around her hand. “There.” I said, pressing my good hand over hers.

And we stayed in that silent, that touch, just a little while longer.

+++

#tdm #the darkest minds #ruby daly #Liam Stewart #rubiam #soulmate AU #request #fanfic #writing #Cole Stewart #cate connor

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone.

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub.

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance.

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black.

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain.

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall.

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted.

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him?

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug.

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you.

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink.

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders.

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

#andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #andy barber x you #hey i wrote that lol

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lengthofropes · 3 years

Text

POVs series

Part 2: Sam

(Part 1: Cas is here)

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words: 3,3k | smr: Sam’s POV as Cas returned from the Empty | read on A03

rating: general | warnings: none I guess?

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I’ve never seen Cas drinking through a straw. I’ve never seen him having a milkshake either, but here he is. On the backseat of Impala, with Dean sitting next to him and laughing as hard as he possibly can.

“What is so funny?” Cas frowns at him, sounding sincerely confused. Dean can’t answer cause he’s literally choking with snickering. To be honest, yeah, this is one of the funniest things I’ve seen in years.

“You’re… you’re just slurping so loud!” Dean finally manages, wiping a laugh tear from his eye. "Cas, you gotta…” and he can’t finish the sentence because he's breathless with laugh again.

"I don't understand. Is this supposed to be a dessert?" Cas asks.

“Yeah, we can’t make a decent milkshake at home, so I thought you should try it here” Dean’s still giggling, but slowly calms down. “I know you like peanut butter with strawberry jelly, so maybe you'd like a strawberry milkshake too”

“Oh. This is too sweet”

And I swear Dean is slightly blushing now, I swear! This is even funnier than Cas slurping, but I’m holding back a smile cause yeah, this is too sweet.

“Yeah, umm… No, I just… I though you’d like it…”

“I like it, but it’s too sweet.” Cas looks at him and adds “The milkshake”

“Oh!…”

This time I can’t hold it back and just burst out with laughter.

“What’s so funny again?” Castiel is confused even more, I can see in a back view mirror.

“Nothing” - Dean to Cas.

“Shut up!” - Dean to me. But I just can’t stop.

“Gimme that!” - to Cas again, taking the milkshake from his hand and slurping even louder than Cas. "It's not too sweet it's just perfect!"

We haven't laughed like this for a long time, too long.

Through the months Castilel’s been absent, times were tough sometimes. Me and Dean, we had to sort out a lot of stuff, and believe me, it wasn’t that easy.

We talked about a lot of things, then. We started with the simplest.

What are we about to do now? Continue hunting? Get ourselves a decent jobs? Should we move somewhere else?

Move, huh. We weren’t ready to, at that point, guess we’re not ready still, not sure if we actually want to. Not sure, we know where to, how to, even. So many things have changed, we needed at least something to stay the same, stay solid for us. So we kind of… continued our usual routine in the bunker, with an exclusion of hunting for a while. We needed a rest. Probably, sticking up with the domestic stuff helped. You wake, make yourself breakfast, you eat, you read or watch movies, you make some calls, you exercise, you shower, you sleep. You do groceries, laundry, cleaning. You, being normal. Functional, pretty much. Slowly accepting your new world and the life you're now living. Like, piece by piece, understanding and acceptance comes.

Bunker felt so... I don’t know, remarkably unoccupied those days?

Weird, cause we used to live here on our own, sometimes for weeks. Sometimes even months. But now it was… I guess it’s just knowing, that this time someone won’t come back here, this knowing… it made it hard to walk those corridors. I missed Cas. I missed Jack, too. But… you know.

First month we stayed at the Bunker on our own. I mean, of course I went to see Eileen, it’s the first thing I wanted to do after everyone returned. I don’t even know how I can describe the feeling when I've read the message from her. I…

We were driving home. With Miracle, sleeping on the backseat. And Jack’s “I’m not coming home” still too loud in our ears. And my phone beeped. It was her. She was the first person we got a message from.

“Hey, Sam”

That’s it, “Hey, Sam” - and it’s easier to breathe. I remember, I couldn’t text her back, just kept looking and looking at my phone.

“Eileen?” Dean asked.

“Yeah… yeah. She’s… she texted”

I literally could add nothing to that. Dean just smiled, but didn’t say anything.

Rest of the road we called and called everyone, checking, laughing on loudspeaker, explaining, repeating the story about Chuck all over again. It was good. Those were the moments worth fighting for - hearing the voices of your family again. We were so happy, so relieved. And free, at last.

Next day the first thing Dean said to me, was that I need to go to see Eileen.

“Nope, now! Pack your shit and go! ‘Cmon, Sammy, do me a favor, huh?”

Not sure I need to explain the argument between us, cause I didn’t want to leave him alone. Or should I say, the argument inside my head between me and me, the one who cares about my brother, and the one who loves Eileen. But well, he insisted, he insisted hard. And I’d lie if I say, to see her alive and well, to finally hold her, wasn’t on top of my needs.

So yeah, Dean understood me even better than I did myself. He assured me, that everything’s gonna be fine, and he has work to do - go to the vet with Miracle and buy all the things we need to make the bunker a home for her, too.

I came back home in two days. Eileen went for a long trip to meet up with all her friends, and she promised to come to the bunker in few weeks. And stay for a little longer. Dean was pretty excited, though, even asked why the hell I didn’t bring her back with me immediately. So yeah, visiting her friends was a nice excuse to…

He needed time.

I didn’t tell him how heartbroken she was, when I told her Cas was gone.

He needed time. And I needed to stay close. Because even if I’ve lost my dearest friend, Dean have lost way more than that.

Dean seemed “normal”. Not sad, not unnaturally cheerful, not heartbroken, not… anything. And it was scary as hell. I didn’t try to talk to him. He didn’t try to talk to me. Geez, at that time, I didn’t even knew how exactly it all happened. How did Cas summoned the Empty? Why it took him? But I just waited. I just think it’s time, when…it’s time. Because one thing I knew for sure, something in Dean has changed. Changed very deep. And it wasn’t a grief, no, that was something else.

One morning I saw him looking at himself in a bathroom mirror. I just stood at he door, not to interrupt, cause the look on his face was… like he was examining himself, actually seeing something for the first time. Figuring, if he likes it or not.

So, I was there, and I was waiting for him to be ready to share. Giving him time and space.

Dean quit drinking.

He just stopped. I didn’t bring it to his attention, that I’ve noticed. It’s just one day I passed him a bottle of beer in the kitchen, and he mumbled something like “nah, I’m good”, and next day I saw him opening the fridge to pour himself some orange juice. And the next day, we were watching something, and I put a cold six pack on a table. He didn’t touch it. So I just quit offering.

I didn’t ask.

Now Dean is siting next to Cas on a backseat. Today, it’s been two weeks since Jack brought him back home, but Dean is still always around him, ready to catch him if he is dizzy again (yeah, it still happens sometimes), or he’s disoriented, or unexpectedly weak. Cas feels much better, though. But we constantly keep an eye on him. Well, I’d say I try to, but Dean doesn’t seem to let me, you know? Actually, it’s the first time he left the bunker in these two weeks. He rarely even leaves Cas’ room, though, maybe only when he cooks for him or goes to the library to grab another book. When Cas falls asleep, he walks out, and we usually talk in the kitchen or wherever.

When we go to sleep to our rooms, Dean doesn’t stays in his for long.

Two months ago he couldn’t sleep in his room, too, but the reasons were different. I remember constantly finding him in the morning, sleeping anywhere else but his bed. Face on the table in the kitchen, in the armchair in the library, on the couch in his cave. One time I’ve found him in the backseat of Impala in the garage. Dean used to drink himself to sleep, when times were tough. Now that he quit, he just stayed up until he passed out. No need to be genius, to figure he’s been having nightmares. No need to be genius, to figure what those nightmares were about. I still see the burning ceiling in my dreams, rarely, but yeah, I do.

And yeah, he told me he’s having nightmares. He told me not to worry about it, cause it’s a normal reaction, and it will pass.

What he didn’t told me, Jack did.

That day, I woke up and went to the kitchen to fill my water bottle and go for a jog. Jack was there. Just standing next to the fridge, drinking milk.

To be honest, at first I thought I was still dreaming. But then he raised his hand “hi” and I…

“Hi Sam!”

“Jack… is it really you? I mean… hey!” I’m not sure if I supposed to hug God but well, I did. And he hugged me back and for a moment it felt like everything is back as it used to be. As it used to be, yeah. Our kid drinking milk in our kitchen.

It was 6 in the morning, and I’ve had one of the most complicated conversations I’ve ever had in my life.

Jack told me everything. About the deal Cas made to save him. About the price of that deal.

About Dean praying to him every single night for the past weeks.

Jack was good, though, he coped very well with all his new responsibilities; hell is fine, Earth is fine, new Death is great, heaven is getting some renovations, and angels are finally calm and satisfied. The only problem is the Empty. Since he detonated himself in front of Cosmic Entity, he has no idea what was happening there. If Chuck was able to bring angels and demons from there, it changed, apparently, after the explosion, because the structure of the void has been damaged.

“Every time I try to reach it, it’s like I’m walking in the dark, like I’ve lost the path and I have no idea where I should go. I tried to summon the Entity, tried to open the portal - nothing works.” Jack looked concerned and dreary. “I don’t know what is happening there. I can only guess, everyone’s awake there. And they all are supposed to rest, supposed to sleep. If I made them suffer…” He looked at me with remorse in his eyes. “Castiel is there too. Sam, what if he…”

I felt sick. What if Jack’s right? What if all the dead angels and demons are going crazy in there? What if Cas sacrificed himself again only to suffer for the eternity?

“They all deserve to rest, and I need to make sure they are. And I want him back, Sam. I want my father back”

“Yeah… yeah. We all do. We just didn’t think it is somehow possible again”

“I’ll make it possible, I promise. I’ll keep trying. But I don’t know if I should answer to Dean’s prayers. I cannot fill him with hope, I need to make sure…”

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t think he’ll be able to handle it, if we end up failing…”

“He probably thinks I’m an asshole” Jack grinned bitterly. “Or that I’m too busy, or I forgot…”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t pray to Jack cause I missed him too bad, and I didn’t think I’ll ever see him again. And about Castiel, I just understood it’s impossible to bring him back, the second everyone else have returned. If that were possible, Jack would bring him back with everyone else, too. I didn’t realise there may be a different possibility.

“You really think you can do this? Bring him back?” I asked instead.

“I have to. And I will” He looked at me, stubborn and determined. “I just need time”

I took a deep breath. That was heavy. Seeing Jack again, knowing the truth about Cas. Stay silent for Dean. This is not the first time I have been hiding something from my brother. But at least now it is more than justified.

Next week Eileen arrived, and things got a little better. Dean was very happy to see her, though, like, really glad. The three of us been spending a lot of time together, constantly chatting about everything, watching movies, cooking, even playing board games. What can I say? Eileen is a ball of sunshine, of course everything’s better in her presence.

And I knew Dean felt better, too. Since there were no news from Jack in weeks, I decided it was a good tactic, to keep the bunker filled with people we love. So, I called everyone, and the next month was full with friendly visits.

Kaia and Claire came first and stayed for few days, they were on a hunt in a town nearby. Then Jody and Alex joined us. They both took two weeks leave from work and decided to spend some of it with us. Gotta say, I was upset when they left. Not least because Dean stopped making delicious “special occasion” pancakes for breakfast.

Charlie and Stevie called. They were on a vacation too - just left to travel around Europe for a month. Yeah, good for them. They promised to meet up with us as soon as they come back.

Donna couldn't make it to us, cause she was too busy. Things were relatively quiet in Stillwater, but her deputy got sick, so she had to work a little harder those days. So me, Eileen and Dean went to visit her instead. Those were two good days, a lot of hugs and donuts and the latest police gossips.

The next stop was Garth's house, and Eileen was extremely excited to meet the whole werewolf family. Little Cas and Sam grew bigger and Garth warned us to be careful now with their teeth. Good point. We didn't stay for long though, just for dinner, but Eileen is now Gertie's bestie, and Gertie calls her "giant's girlfriend".

Not long after we got back to bunker, Bobby stopped by for a beer. He was doing well, too, same as all the rest of the survived refugees from the Apocalypse world. They all quit hunting and settled in Lebanon, living their lives peacefully. It was good to see him, all clean and calm. He deserved his retirement.

That was, actually, the exact moment I realised I don’t want to hunt anymore. I’m done. No more blood on my hands.

Yeah, there’s still a lot of things to hunt in this world. But I just don’t want to. But we’re still the last men of letters. Why not to become…a mentors? Turn bunker into headquarters again? We can’t just leave all the lore, all the knowledge here, untouched.

This thought has firmly settled in the backyard of my mind. Yes, we'll come back to this later, for sure. When we will figure out all the things.

A nice month, yeah. Then Eileen went to help her friends with a little ghoul problem. I must say, I’m still overprotective, but at least I agreed to let her go by herself, since she gave me The Look. Okay, three of them will be there, one ghoul. They can handle it. Besides, “Girl needs to have fun sometimes, Sam!” and yes, she needed some space. And she promised to keep me updated.

It was the evening I’ve received “All done! That was too easy, I’m disappointed. We’re driving to their place now, it’s couple of hours. Facetime you soon!” No, I wasn’t relieved, because I wasn’t worried, honestly! But still went to Dean’s cave, where he was watching something, to tell him the news.

“Hey, got a message from Eileen, she kicked that ghoul’s ass”

“Ha! I didn't doubt her!” Dean grinned at me, making a sound of the TV quieter.

“Yeah, she probably will be home in few days. Listen…”

I didn’t finish. Bright light filled the corridor.

“Sam. Now” I couldn’t even see his face, but Jack’s voice was loud and high with emotion.

“What?? Jack??” I screamed back.

“What is happening?” Dean ran out the room, facing the light in the hallway. “Jack?? Sam, what’s going on?”

“Sorry, I didn't have time to warn you. It happened all at once. Sam, I'm coming in, I found the entrance. I can do it, I know. Explain to him, tell him…” And he disappeared.

We were standing there, shaking in shock.

“What the hell is going on? Explain me what? Sam? The fuck is happening? Was that Jack?”

I wasn’t ready for this, it happened not the way I imagined. I though I’ll have enough time for this conversation. What was I suppose to do? Explain? How??

Dean was looking at me, eyes wide with concern. Okay, okay… just gonna tell it the way it is, calm and slow.

“Yeah, it was Jack…” And my mouth turned dry.

“….and?” Dean kept looking at me “Explain what? Sam, cmon! He was worried, goddamit! What’s going on?”

“Okay, okay… He, umm. For the past months he’s been trying to get to The Empty”

Dean was speechless. He turned pale.

“He couldn’t get there, he couldn’t even summon the Entity to talk. He thought it was because of the explosion. But he, umm, he kept on trying. He promised me he will keep trying.”

“He… promised you?”

“Yeah… He appeared here, a little more then a month ago. He…” It was hard to look into my brother’s eyes, but somehow, I did it. “Dean, he was trying to bring Cas back. All this time”

His expression was unreadable. Something between anger, fear, disbelief and shock.

“And you didn’t tell me…”

“Because he asked. Because he wasn’t sure how long will it take. He wanted to tell you, when he’s ready to do it. And I didn’t want to tell you too, because if we fail at this…”

“Okay, shut up” He leaned into the wall, all trembling, trying to calm his breath. “He said… he said “Now!” Does it mean… Sammy, what does it mean?”

There was a plea in his eyes. So much fear. And a plea.

“Yes.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You've heard him”

Dean grabbed my shoulder.

“Sammy…”

The bunker started to shake - the walls, the floor, as like an earthquake.

“Sammy… the dungeon”

And we ran, as fast as we could.

So yeah, today we finally went to buy Cas some closes, although he seems to like all those Dean’s hoodies, he looks like an E.T., when he wears them.

Nothing extraordinary, just basic stuff like jeans and shirts and sweaters. Though Dean bought him a cowboy hat, and I swear I could hear quiet “Not again..” from Cas. But he scored with picking one of the world’s ugliest sweaters that I’ve ever seen - blue, with a giant yellow bee on the front. Dean’s face was pure shock when he saw that one, and he immediately put it out of the shopping basket, shaking his head. But the second Cas got distracted with his shoelaces, Dean put that ugly piece back and quickly went to the checkout.

Now he’s drinking strawberry milkshake in the backseat.

It’s a movie night tonight. Eileen makes popcorn.

#destiel fic #destiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #fieryfrankie #seraphcastiel #becauseofthebowties #casjpg #userdainty #holmesemrys #scottstiles #ugh sorry probably lot of mistakes and typos here:)))#I'm too lazy....dasdfghjkl #and there's a lot of missing pieces here. I saved some explanations for the further chapters ggggg:)#fic tag

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slutfornat · 3 years

Text

My Doll // P.7

Series Masterlist: here

Main Masterlist: here

Y/n's POV:

It's been months since everyone came back after the blip and I'm worried about bucky. Bucky's been having consist nightmares and we don't even share a room anymore as he's convinced that he keeps waking me up.

That was two months ago; we broke up three weeks later. I've tried moving on and even tried contact with an old partner but they're in a new relationship and I figured it's best to just stay as friends.

Bucky doesn't talk to me ever now. Last I heard he was going therapy, was friends with a guy called yori, who keeps trying to set him up on dates for the past month and some of which bucky ends up going on apparently.

I talked to Sam, earlier today after he handed the shield over but over than that I've been staying to my work then talking with pepper, happy and morgan on the weekends.

I'm sitting in my room, watching TV when I turn over to the news to see an announcement that they have found a new captain america.

I listen through the entire thing before it ends and I turn my tv off before checking it's not to late to go and threaten a lawsuit. Realising its only 19:47pm, I go and change back into today's outfit.

It's a black suit but instead of a normal t-shirt or anything, underneath is a bra that covers my chest but still looks like one of the most gen z looking things from in my wardrobe.

Another thing you should know, I quit S.W.O.R.D after having to watch a close friend have everything taken from her so she could help a bunch of people that hate her.

Also I own stark industries as pepper just wants to be there for morgan as hse is still young and it must he hard on her. It is officially open again in six weeks.

Driving there, I basically storm inside before going straight to his office. We are both sitting with four other people in the room, who I happen to notice are all white.

"Miss Stark, we have a right to have a new and improved captain america" he begins. "You have no right to storm in here, acting as if you, a child, is in charge."

"Firstly, I'm 21 as of July 17th 2023. Secondly, I know my rights and if I have a proposition for you then yes, I'm welcome" I argued back.

"All I was going to do was make a few modifications to the shield like this here" I continue before pressing a button on the side of my watch which is how I activate the shield I've made.

I stand up just as the shield shows itself to the pathetic excuse of a president. I go on "This beauty has been in every fight with me since 2012 but continues to evolve more so than any human including you and your 17th century views."

"I am not old-fashioned, I jus-" he tries but I cut him off. "You just don't believe in equal rights? Have you noticed I'm the only woman in this room or that everyone including myself is white."

"Unless you would like a major lawsuit against you and everyone that works for you, I suggest you hand over that shield to either me or Mr Sam Wilson" I say as my shield goea back into the watch.

He stands up, trying to act like he's in charge and shouts "I will not hand it over to some child, who thinks the world owes them everything."

"You know, you people seem to always forget what happened when I was kidnapped" I say, "Hydra experiment on me and therefore I have powers worse than the winter soldier's".

"Are you threatening us?" one of the people in the room ask and I answer "no, only a lawsuit, that in the end I'll win."

I stand up, "it's either give the shied to Stark industries or Sam Wilson, your choice?"

"I'll never hand it over, that's final. Wilson handed over captain america's shield" he says, sitting down once more.

"Whilst under the impression, it was to be in a museum as a historical artifact not that it would be a symbol of america's current racism and misogyny" I point out.

Before walking out, I say "this is war and something you should know, I always win."

I leave, already planning on contacting my lawyer tomorrow. Whilst walking to my car, I bump into someone and as I look, I see bucky barnes; the one person I don't wanna see right now.

"y/n, what are you doing here?" he asks. Answering truthfully, I say "I have a lawsuit against the president because of his blatant racism towards Sam and believing that a 21 year old woman is a child despite staring at my breasts for most of the thing."

"Yikes" he says. I nod, saying "Exactly and now I have to deal with another lawsuit". Laughing slightly, buck jokes "well at least you're likely to have experience with this kind of thing."

"In my defence, I won all four of them" I say, laughing a bit, "why are you here then?"

"I was on a date but left after ten minutes" he answered, "I had to go somewhere". "ooh so mysterious but seriously how have you moved on so fast" I ask, curiously.

"no, a friend asked her out for me because I wasn't in the mood" bucky explained. "So, barnes, feel like getting a drink then?" I asked, knowing it might distract both of us.

Grinning slightly, he says "sure but as I can only get tipsy at the most, I'm driving. Now where's your car for when I end up dropping you off at your place?"

Two hours later, the two of us are laughing madly whilst drinking but he finally says "well, I'm sure you have a busy day tomorrow so let's drop you off, okay?"

I nod but as I get up, I nearly trip over my feat which causes me to giggle hysterically in bucky's arm. "come on, doll. M' gonna take you home now, okay?" bucky says as we walk or in my case stumble out of the bar.

After putting me in the car, bucky drives us to my apartment. Him already knowing the address as I moved in whilst we were dating.

Taking the keys from me, he carries me up to my bedroom and puts me in my bed. "I'm gonna make you a cup of tea while you change, alright?" he said.

"But I don't wanna change" I mumble into my pillow. "Doll..." james said sternly, "come on, you need to get ready for bed".

I nod and when he leaves the room, I change quickly into a large t-shirt and some pajamas shorts. I manage to sit up in bed by the time, bucky is back with my tea.

We have our tea together before he is about to leave until I say "please don't leave me". Looking slightly confused, bucky says "are you sure, doll?"

I nod, not wanting to be alone again. Then for once in a while, I don't end up crying myself to sleep. Being around bucky always helped with my guilt about pietro and nat and my dad and everything that's happened to wanda especially recently.

"can I tell you a secret?" I ask bucky. Wjen he agrees, I say "on my 21st, Nat took me on a date. When I was eight, I thought I was in love so I asked her on a date and she said when I'm 21."

"really? What was it like?" he asked. "We went to this italian restaurant and after she kissed me on the cheek, I waited 13 years to go on a date then not long after she dies" I say.

Pulling me into a hug, bucky says "I'm sorry you had to go through that but you have me now, doll". I smile at that one bit of comfort, I still have bucky even if it's as a friend.

As I fall asleep in his arms, I feel him nuzzle into my neck and whisper endearingly "I still love you, my doll."

Taglist -

@lilacmeadows @lilulo-12 @criminalyetminimal

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x stark!reader #lucia one shots #bucky barnes imagine #stark!reader

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melwilson · 3 years

Text

who the hell are you - derek hale x reader (part three)

There was a permanent scowl etched onto your face as you held Derek’s stare. It was nearing midnight and he still wouldn’t tell you who Chris Argent was and what he wanted. Truthfully, you didn’t understand why you cared as much as you did. Derek was still very much a stranger to you, a very attractive stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. You tried nearly everything to get him to talk, but the only thing he had revealed was that he was 26 and from Beacon Hills. Even his last name was still a mystery to you. You were determined, however, you had work in the morning and you really weren’t up for another late night. Sighing, you stood up ignoring the smug smirk that pulled at Derek’s lips. You would get it out of him one way or another.

“You’re giving up?” Derek’s voice was filled with amusement.

“No,” you shot back, “I’m going to bed. I have to work in the morning.”

“You’re just going to leave me here all day?” Derek questioned.

You rolled your eyes as you began up the stairs. “You’re a big boy. You can handle yourself.” You smiled to yourself opening the door to your room. Somehow, you had managed to convince Derek to stay after catching him trying to leave earlier that night. It was your annoying persistence that made Derek cave. It was an admirable trait though. It took almost everything in him to not spill every secret buried within his chest. It was for your safety. The less you knew the better.

“What time do you have to be up in the morning?” Derek’s voice startled you as you turned around. You hadn’t heard follow you up the stairs. The more you thought about, the more you realized that Derek was prettt quiet person all together.

“Six. I have to open. I’ll be home by five,” you replied sending him a soft smile. “Get some sleep.”

The green eyed man nodded tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. He seemed to be in thought, but shook it off by offering you a simple goodnight. Your eyes followed his figure until he was out of view as you slid underneath the warm, gray comforter. Once settled in, you let your tired eyes flutter shut, sleep consuming you quickly.

It was the sound of a car door that woke you up. You rolled over grabbing your phone to check the time. 3:47. Another car door slammed causing you to jump as you tossed your feet over the bed. You cautiously made your way downstairs to Derek’s room. You were tempted to just go back upstairs, hoping you were just paranoid and sleep deprived, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. You raised your hand to knock on the door, but didn’t need to because the door opened before you could. Derek stood before you in all of his shirtless glory, a look of confusion washing over his features.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His voice was deeper than usual and filled with sleep. The sound, mixing with concern, caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, but you pushed them away.

“I-I,” you shook your head meddling with your fingers. “Nothing. It was nothing. I’m sorry for waking you.” You turned to leave but stopped when Derek’s hand caught your wrist.

“Y/n, it’s not nothing. What’s wrong?”

You met Derek’s eyes, noting how soft they were towards you. “I- I heard something outside. It sounded like car doors slamming, like multiple. It sounded like it was right outside. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I couldn’t help but think...like what if-”

“It had something to do with me?” Derek finished. You nodded slowly, your anxiety beginning to get the best of you. “You did the right thing coming to ge-’

Derek never finished his sentence, his eyes moving past yours. You placed a hand on his bare shoulder, his eyes coming to meet yours again. “What is it?”

“I think you might be right.” The tone of his voice was serious as he brushed past you and into the living room. You followed him slowly more confused than anything. The two of you stopped in your tracks when there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun from the kitchen and moved past Derek motioning for him to get out of the direct line of sight. You placed your gun in the waistband of your shorts before cautiously prying the door open. You were met with the sight of an older guy and his seemingly drunk sister.

“Can I help you?” you questioned, confusion laced in your voice.

The man looked down at the woman in his arms and shook his head. “I’m sorry for bothering you. My sister told me this is where she lived, she has a roommate and she said that he’d be up. You are clearly not a he. And she clearly has had a little too much to drink.”

You chuckled softly. “That’s okay. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“You’re alright. Sorry again.”

You nodded watching as the man dragged his sister to the red SUV parked in your driveway. You shut the door turning to Derek. “It was nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing, Y/n. That was Chris and his sister Kate. They know I’m here and they’ll be back.”

You stood there, your arms crossed over your chest as you narrowed your eyes. “Why? What do they want Derek?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Derek’s calm demeanor was starting to tick you off. He didn’t seem remotely worried about his situation.

“Okay, Derek, I want to know what the hell is going on and I want to know now.” The tone was everything but soft. There was an edge in your voice that Derek didn’t like.

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? I want to know who is after you and why. I need answers, Derek. I can’t put myself in danger if I don’t know who I’m putting myself in danger for.”

Derek scoffed, avoiding your harsh glare. “I never asked you to do that.”

“Well, you did ask for a place to stay...and I gave that to you. I don’t know why and as a matter of fact, I don’t really know you,” your voice trailed off as Derek met your eyes.

“What are you saying, Y/n?” The way your name rolled off of Derek’s tongue usually made you weak at the knees, but now it seemed as if he was using it as a weapon.

“I can’t help someone who isn’t honest with me.”

“You want me to leave.” The cold look in Derek’s eyes was enough to make anyone feel guilty. You wanted so badly to help him, to be there for him, but if there was going to be trust issues while you potentially put your life in danger, you weren’t going to put yourself in harms way.

“That’s what you wanted right? To be out of my hair...now you have the chance.” Your words came out harsher than intended. You had known Derek for a little over 48 hours and you knew this argument cut deep.

You couldn’t meet Derek’s eyes as he sucked in a deep breath. “I understand.” You didn’t realize there were tears until the first one hit your sockless feet. Sighing, you traveled up the stairs and crawled back into bed, tears free falling as you heard the front door slam shut. You choked back a sob not understanding why you were so upset. Maybe it was because you had forced Derek to leave right after the people who were out to get him showed up on your doorstep. Or maybe it was because you cared. Or maybe it was because you acted selfishly because you weren’t in the know.

“God, I’m so selfish,” you whispered to yourself. You wanted to do nothing more than jump in your car and go find Derek, but exhaustion took over quickly and soon enough you were asleep again.

You were late. Very late. You had slept through your alarm, waking up almost two hours later...the same time you were supposed to arrive at the upscale diner downtown. Quickly, and while tripping over everything in sight, you managed to get ready and leave the house. If the fact that you had slept in didn’t make you late, the sight on your front porch did.

Derek was sound asleep on the wooden bench outside your door. You cringed thinking about how bad that was going to hurt his back when he woke up. You set down your bag as you made your way over to him placing a gentle hand on his arm. He jolted awake, his eyes searching for a threat until they landed on you.

“Hi,” you said softly, a drastic difference in your tone from last night.

“Hey,” Derek’s eyes softened as he sat up making room for you.

“Did you stay out here all night?” Derek nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. “Wow, I-um, okay. Wha- why did you do that?”

“To make sure you were safe.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Derek,” you replied nearly at a loss for words.

“And you didn’t have to open up your home for me.”

“I literally kicked you out ...which, by the way, I’m sorry about last night. I was scared and selfish and kicked you out of the place where you were kinda sorta safe.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/n. You’re right. I wouldn’t trust someone who wasn’t being honest either. It seems as if I was trying to protect by not telling you, but I’ve already put you in danger by being here.” Derek’s eyes held a lot of weight as he apologized.

Not emotionally prepared for this conversation, you stood up and grabbed your bag. “I- um, I have to get to work, but you can stay here for as long as you need.”

“You’re not going to work, Y/n,” Derek said, pulling you back inside. “It’s not safe for you to be alone. You’re coming with me.”

You stopped in your tracks, crossing your arms over your chest. “What do you mean I’m coming with you? Where are you going?”

“It’s not safe for you in Beacon Hills. Not until I’m positive you’re safe here. And I can’t protect you if I’m on the run. It’s only temporary, a couple months at the most. I have a safe house about a day’s drive from here.”

“What makes you so sure that I’m not safe here?” The thought of running away with Derek didn’t sound like a bad idea, but you were determined to hold your ground. You didn’t want to give in so easily.

The taller man sighed. God, you were stubborn. “A friend of mine is dating Chris’s daughter. She told him that they were planning to hit your house again tonight. They know I was here last night...I don’t know how they know, but they do.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you weighed your options. You didn’t really want to be here if Derek was right, but what if he wasn’t. What if he wasn’t really who he said he was. He probably would have killed you already if he wanted to. “I-“ You tried to come up with a reasonable excuse. “I have work.”

An incredulous look washed over Derek’s face. “You did not just say that. You seriously would rather risk your life for your job?”

“I can’t just take leave for an unknown amount of time and expect my job to just be there waiting for me when we get back.”

“We’ll find you a new job,” Derek said back.

The situation seemed almost perfect, other than the fact that you were leaving Beacon Hills for unfortunate reasons. You had no reason not to go. You ran a hand over your tired face, a groan falling from your lips. “Fine.”

Derek couldn’t help the small grin tugging at his lips. “We leave in an hour. Get what you need.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #derek hale #tyler hoechlin #stiles stilinski #dylan obrien #scott mccall #tyler posey #chris argent #jr bourne #liam dunbar #isaac lahey #theo raeken #malia hale #peter hale #kate argent #cody christian

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