#i've never canceled one of our dates and in the past week alone he's canceled THREE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

johnkrrasinski · 3 years

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started from a call

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 3,610

Warning: angst with a happy ending! that's all.

Summary: written for @wkemeup's 9k writing challenge with the prompt "character a leaves an embarrassing, drunk message on character b’s voicemail and spends the rest of the night trying to discreetly delete it from [b]’s phone." inspired by a bit of ross and rachel from friends too. you found out from steve that bucky was in love with you in high school but after he returns home with a girl in his arm, you cancelled your plans to tell him how you feel. will you and bucky have your happy ending?

a/n: please like, reblog and leave a feedback. :) enjoy!

"Alright, I'll see you tonight. Bye." He leaned against the kitchen counter and hung up the phone with a grin on his face. "You hear that, Sam? We're going on our third date tonight." He threw his phone up into the air and caught it so casually without spilling a drop of his coffee sitting on his right hand. "Looks like I'm getting that 300 bucks soon."

"Hey, easy. You ain't going to that date yet, who knows? She could bail on you. It doesn't count if the date doesn't end well."

"Oh, but it will. I just gotta turn on my charm and next thing you know, we're already meeting the parents stage."

"Meeting the parents? That's a big step from you, Buck."

"Hey, I'm a man of my words. If I said that I'm going to change this year then I'm gonna stick to it."

"So Leah isn't just a one-time thing to get 300 bucks?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no. We'll see how tonight goes. But one thing's for sure is that I'm getting that 300 bucks."

Sam and Bucky made a bet as their New Year's resolution that Bucky would never go on a second date with any girl or remember to call her in the morning after a wild night. His commitment issues had given him a reputation as the player in the gang. It wasn't a new thing anymore to anyone that when they visited Bucky's place in the morning, they would see a girl with a dopey smile and slightly ruffled hair walking out of his apartment, giddy that Bucky just made a promise to call her later.

You, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Steve were hanging out at Nat's place. The six of you had been friends since college. You, Nat, Bucky and Steve had known each other since high school and the four of you kept in touch despite going to separate universities. You met Wanda when you went to NYU and Steve met Sam while he was in Harvard. Long story short, after the four of you graduated, you and Wanda lived together as roommates and even started your own bakery business. Steve and Bucky lived in the same building as you and Natasha and Sam lived nearly alone. They were too independent for roommates. Don't even start on Natasha and how much she valued her personal space. That's how the six of you ended up here, gathered at your place on a Saturday afternoon.

"Are you gonna pick her up tonight?"

"Of course. Gonna clean up well, bring her some flowers and knock on her door at 7 pm precisely. Which girl isn't gonna fall for that?" Bucky walked over to the couch you and Nat were sitting on and leaned on the headrest, his arms caging both you and Natasha.

You didn't say anything nor did Natasha because she knew about your feelings for Bucky. Despite never feeling that way about Bucky in high school, your feelings changed a week ago after learning that Bucky used to be in love with you but never had the courage to tell you. That's why he never had a girlfriend during his high school years and he wanted to take you to prom and confess his feelings to you but he was too late. Another guy had already snooped in first.

You were his first love but it wasn't reciprocated until now. That's why in college, he learned how to get over you and slept with as many women as possible because he felt like he lost four years of his life of finding the one. He never intended to be a player and feed girls empty promises, it just kind of became his way of dating. He was too afraid that no one could live up to you yet he enjoyed being with women. Hence, the bet.

The day you found out from Steve about Bucky's past feelings for you while playing truth or dare, you immediately wanted to call him up but Bucky was out of town for a few days and as soon as he was back home, he had Leah in his arm. Your heart was crushed. Wanda told you that it would probably last for a few days and that he'd eventually be single again but you totally did not expect this thing to turn into something serious. You loved Sam with every fibre of your being, he was like the big brother you never had, but you wanted to curse him for making that bet.

So you just rolled your eyes and stayed silent throughout this entire conversation, even though your heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over again. "Alright, I gotta go. Got a big date tonight. I'll see you guys in a few hours." Just like that, Bucky walked out of the room without knowing the pain his words caused you.

The next day you were sitting in your bed watching The Notebook in your pyjamas because you were too heartbroken to do anything productive. It was Sunday so you could just have a whole day to yourself and do absolutely nothing but cry. Wanda knocked on your door bringing a plate of cookies and she had a pitiful look on her face. "y/n? Sweetie? I made you these cookies, they might make you feel better." Sometimes you thank the stars for bringing her into your life.

"Thank you, Wanda. You're so nice to me." You know you probably sound like a hormonal whiny kid but everything made you cry at the moment.

"Do you need anything else? I know how it feels to get your heartbroken, trust me. When me and Vision had a fight and we didn't talk for days all I wanted was to curl up and never leave my bed, so in case you need anything, I'm here." She offered you that warm smile of hers.

"No, all I want right now is to just eat these cookies and go back to my film, thanks Wan."

"Okay, I'll be outside." Your pity party was interrupted when Nat arrived in her leather jacket and burst into your room.

"Get up, you are taking a shower and you're getting that face beat."

"Natasha, what the hell? Leave me alone."

"Y/N, listen to me. I got a date for you. His name is Scott and he's a real nice guy, he's funny, he's a good friend of mine and he is really smart. He is so much better than Bucky, I promise you. Now c'mon, I already told him that you are meeting him tonight at Stark's restaurant at 7."

You whined, doing anything you can to get her to leave you alone with your tears and your cookies but you knew that once Natasha set her mind on something, there's no talking her way out of it. Damn that woman with her determination.

"Y/N, c'mon! Wallowing all day isn't you. I know you and what's good for you. That's why I found you a great guy who will charm you so good that you will forget Barnes even existed. You can't let him win, y/n. If he's going to be happy with someone else, then you better show him that you can be much happier with other people."

You stared at her, trying to absorb her words. There's some wisdom in that. You're not the type to cry over a guy, not even for even Bucky Barnes. So you let Natasha drag you to the shower and asked Wanda to do your hair when she does your makeup. She chose an outfit for you, a dress that was not too sexy but chic enough to leave a good first impression.

Scott was early to the restaurant and he looked elated to see you. He was wearing a grey suit with no tie and he had a really exuberant smile on his face, the type that drew people easily. You could see why Natasha called him a nice guy.

"Wow, sorry, I just- didn't expect you to be this beautiful."

"Ah, thank you, Scott. Have you been waiting long?"

"No, not at all. I just arrived here like five minutes ago."

The night went on and Scott did most of the asking and talking, you answered each question curtly with forced enthusiasm in your face and body language. You weren't even listening to half of the things he said because your mind kept playing images of Bucky with Leah and how you heard from Sam that the date went well so he lost 300 bucks. You kept thinking about Bucky and Leah and how they would probably get married and have kids and live in the suburbs with a golden retriever while you'd still be single and you'd compare every man you meet to Bucky. Maybe it was your karma for not reciprocating his feelings in high school.

Five glasses of wine and you spent more time nodding than talking. Honestly, all you wanted to do was to just go home and go back to The Notebook because their love story was much better than your love life. Scott woke you out of your daze, "Natasha told you that I was cuter than this, did she?" after you gulped your sixth glass of wine.

"Oh Scott, I'm so sorry. It's not you, it's me. I know it sounds cliche but it's just... I'm not in a place where I'm looking for a boyfriend. You are a really likeable guy and I swear, if we had met at another time, maybe I would be a better date but right now, I just- I have someone else in my mind." You sighed, it felt like a relief to get that off your chest.

"Is this guy... an ex-boyfriend?"

You chuckled, "no... He wishes."

Scott nodded, "look, I don't know what your situation is but I've been through a divorce and it's never easy. But eventually, you'll be fine. You can't see it now because you haven't had closure." Then it was as if the bulb above your head was turned on.

"That's it. Closure, yeah. That's all I need. Okay, give me a minute. I'm gonna call him now and I'm going to get my closure."

Scott sat there watching you comically trying to find your phone in your purse and tapped on Bucky's contact number. The normal you would be sweating with every ring but intoxicated you had no worries in the world... For now.

"This is Bucky. Can't pick up right now, leave a message." Beep.

"Hello, yes, Bucky! Or James, should I call you James? I always thought Bucky was a weird name. Anyways, I'm just calling to tell you that I am fine and I am on a date with Scott. And speaking of dates, I just gotta tell you that I'm happy to hear that your date went well. And that, my friend, means that I am over you. That's right, I'm over you. Tell Leah I say hi." You said sarcastically.

You hung up the phone and threw your phone back into your purse. You felt like you just won a chess game.

The next morning you decided to sleep in because your heart was pounding and you could barely sit up without feeling like you might fall. You were supposed to be working at the bakery but since you owned the bakery, Wanda let you sleep it off until you recover. You couldn't remember anything from last night, how you got back to your apartment was a mystery. You tried to put the pictures together, from being forced to go on a date, meeting a guy named Sean? Simon? Sebastian? Scott! Yes, Scott. You ordered your meals and then... Nothing, it was all blurry. You weren't even sure if anything happened at all after eating your meals.

The apartment was empty because Wanda was working at the bakery and it was just you with your hangover pills. Bucky came to your apartment without knocking because Wanda told him on the phone that you were home. He greeted you with a smile and asked about your date.

"Uh, let's see. I think there was a restaurant, I know there was wine. And there's a guy, Scott and pretty much that's all I can recall."

Bucky made a yikes face. Seeing the state you were in, he could do the math (of the wine you had). You probably enjoyed the alcohol more than the guy. What a doofus, he thought. If he was the one going on a date with you, you'd definitely remember every detail from last night.

"Leah's downstairs and I'm taking her back to her place but I left my keys here last night. Have you seen it?"

"No, check the drawers. Maybe Wanda put 'em there."

"Ah, okay." He opened the drawers and found the keys to his bike.

"Did we... Speak on the phone last night?"

"Nope, my phone was dead and I didn't charge it all night so I haven't really checked it. Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's just... Never mind. My memories are a bit hazy right now. You should go, say hi to Leah for me."

Bucky nodded as you walked back to your room to go lie down. Your question reminded him that he should probably check his phone now because there could be work-related messages but the first thing he heard was a voicemail from you. "Oh, y/n. I got your message!"

That instantly stopped you in your tracks. Your eyes went wide and you froze. You immediately turned around and ran to grab his phone away from him. Bucky had a confused look on his face, "who's Scott?"

"Oh my God, no, Bucky, give me the phone. Give me the phone!" But it was already too late, he was already halfway through your voicemail and by the time you successfully snatched his phone out of his grasp, he had already heard every word.

Bucky stood there dumbfounded, he needed time to process everything you just said to him. "What do you- what do you mean you're over me?"

"Oh, God... Alright, um- lately, I've um- sort of, have... Feelings for you." You never had to chase a guy or confess your crush first so this felt new and my God, it was nerve-racking.

"You have feelings for me..." He said it as if he was convincing himself that his ears got it right. Bucky couldn't believe the words that just escaped through your lips, for years he had dreamed of this moment. Though never did he ever want you to make the first move but adolescent him wanted to hear you say what he'd been wanting to say to you too.

He didn't say anything for what felt like minutes and you couldn't decipher his thoughts from the look on his face. "I need to sit down," he pulled one of the dining chairs and leaned on his side in a defeated posture.

"Bucky... Please say something." You alerted him in a hushed tone, not wanting to startle him than you already did. But he didn't. He was lost at words. What the hell was he supposed to tell her?

"Look Bucky, I'm sorry for telling you this way but I had to. I just- I've been wanting to talk to you about it since you came back to New York, well- actually, since Steve told me but-"

"Whoa, Steve told you?!" He interrupted.

"Yeah, it just accidentally slipped when we were playing truth or dare..."

"Okay well," he stood up from his seat, yet he still couldn't look you in the eye. "I can't do this right now, Leah's waiting for me downstairs and I gotta go." He basically ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

Once your hangover had begun dissipating, you decided to help Wanda at the bakery and took the night shift. She must've been exhausted from managing the bakery alone while also helping the employees in the kitchen so you told her to go home and leave it to you. The bakery's usually slower at night.

When it was nearing closing time and your employees had gone home, you decided to clean up and turned off the lights and checked everything one last time before locking the door. The bell above the door dinged and you were slightly annoyed because who the hell comes to the bakery at this hour?

"I'm sorry we're clo...sed." It was Bucky. He stood there in a black coat, with an expression you still couldn't figure out. "Bucky, what are you-"

"You have no right to tell me that you've got feelings for me." His tone was harsh, he never spoke that way to you or anyone... Ever.

"What?"

He walked closer to you, maintaining his gaze, "You can not tell me that you've got feelings for me now when I'm doing well with my life and Leah..."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I was in love with you for years! Years, y/n! And you never said and did anything and now when everything's going well you're ruining it!"

"I am ruining it?" You repeated the question because you couldn't believe what you just heard. How dare he said those hurtful things to you.

"Yes! I was doing fine with Leah and now I don't know what's going to happen with me and her anymore..."

"Yeah, well, I was doing fine before I found out that YOU were in love with me and never had the balls to tell me!" You did everything you could to not cry, you hated crying in the middle of an argument.

"Hey, it's not like I didn't try. There were your ex-boyfriends and your dates and I had to move on. I couldn't wait forever! And now, now you're too late."

"Oh, so what? You're just gonna walk away and pretend that this never happened?"

"Yes, I'm going to do exactly that and I'm going to go see Leah." He turned around like he did earlier in your apartment and left you alone once again with your heartbreak.

"Fine! Go ahead and see Leah because I don't give a fuck about cowards like you or whoever you sleep with." You slammed the door and tried everything you could to not have a breakdown here because you really hated letting an argument hurt you. You sat on one of the chairs where the customers would sit and you hid your face with your hands and cried.

Not because you just lost an argument but because of what Bucky said and it felt like you had lost Bucky before you even had him. Now there was no hope left for you and Bucky, things were too complicated.

You didn't know how long you had cried there, alone, in the dimmed lighting of your shop but after you felt like the tears had dried, you wiped the traces of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your thumb. You stood from your seat and was ready to go home. You couldn't wait to eat some leftover pizzas, take a warm shower and cry into your pillows until you fall asleep.

But when you were about to leave, you saw Bucky standing on the other side of the door, watching you through the windows with a softer expression on his face. You opened the door and Bucky instantly grabbed your waist and kissed you as if his life depended on it.

You gave in to his kiss, letting him pour every desire and yearning into your lips for as long as he wanted. You grabbed his face because you wanted him impossibly closer and you shut your eyes, letting your guard down. Because it was Bucky, and you'd known him for as long as you could remember and you both deserved this moment.

Bucky eventually pulled away until both of you were running out of air. You were breathless from his kiss, you never knew he was such a good kisser. (It's Bucky and he's had a lot of women on his bed, of course, he was excellent at it. Who were you kidding?) But now that you've had your own front-row experience, you felt a tad of possessiveness at the thought of sharing those lips or any part of him with anyone else.

"I couldn't go back to her knowing you are here alone and I had thrown away what I've wanted for as long as I could remember."

"I'm glad you came back." You pressed your foreheads and you rested your hands on his chest. You could get used to this.

"I hope it's not too late to say this but, y/n y/l/n, will you let me take you to dinner and see a movie after maybe?"

"I wasn't the one who said it's too late," you halfheartedly teased him.

"Shut up, so is that a yes or a no?"

You bit your lip and nodded, "yes. Definitely a yes." You stared into his ocean blue eyes, so deep and beautiful, you could easily get lost in it.

"y/n y/ln, I'm going to put all of your ex-boyfriends to shame."

"Hm, we'll see about that." You put your arms around his neck. Then a thought crossed your mind and your smile faded away, "what are you gonna do about Leah though?"

"I'll talk to her in the morning. Let's take you home now, yeah? It's getting late."

You bit your lip and nodded, "okay."

Ninth grade you dreamed of popular jocks and athletic seniors, but little did you know that, sometimes, the one who sincerely loved you was the book nerd who loved The Hobbit a little too much.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes modern au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fanfic #friends to lovers

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tartagluvr · 3 years

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the 'undateables' mitski songs

does anyone still call them the undateables anymore? am i that much of a vet omswd stan...my 'demon brother mitski songs' did well so i decided i wanted to write more! luke's of course will be platonic and about a sibling type bond, don't be wierd. this piece will not include barbatos, as even though i've played for over a year i do not fully understand his character and how to correctly portray him. my apologies!

warnings: fluff in all parts except diavolo. his is the only one with pure angst. no beta we die like chp16

word count: 5.2k

'demon brothers' here!

diavolo; last words of a shooting star

you learned from movies how love ought to be / and you'd say you love me and look in my eyes / but i know, through mine you were looking in yours

"my love, i am so sorry to have to cancel our date tonight. lucifer needs some assistance with paperwork regarding yours and solomons stay here."

for the third date night in a row, you have been put on the broken and tired back burner. for lucifer.

you can't fully bring yourself to blame your lover, he is the lord ruling hell after all. it wouldn't be fair to expect him to be yours all day every day. and when you really think on it, diavolo has not yet ever had a lover in his life. you are his first of everything in a romantic sense. so you've been telling yourself for months he is just not used to this, it is a craft he has yet to have tried his hand at. you just know he can be the perfect lover with a few housekeeping rules.

but it was starting to slowly, surely, chip away at your heart. and your heart was holding your love for diavolo inside, hanging on for dear life as the icepick swings.

with some semblance of confidence mixed with asmodeus hyping you up, you decide to go to castle and face him im person.

of course you put on your best outfit, do up your hair how you like, and spray on your favorite devildom scent.

its not too far of a walk, and you quite enjoy the cold breeze hitting your body. it gives you time to calm down, rationalize how you wish to speak with him. you could've easily asked one of the brothers to fly you over- but this was your task and yours alone. only you can walk through the glass barefoot while trying to sweep it.

entrance to the castle is easy, there aren't any security checkpoints or stops. just the large coded gate, and the glorious front entrance. getting inside takes no more than thirty seconds of your time.

time being wasted spent on a never present lover

barbatos greets you kindly in the foyer, apologizing on diavolos half for his buisness and lack of presence. but you stand your ground, a light smile gracing your wind beat cheeks.

he may be busy, but he can stop for a moment. just one single moment in which you can pretend everything is okay. and only then may he return to being distant.

it isn't as if you are unlovable, you know that much. your demon housemates had to shoo away multiple low level demons and succubi the first few weeks you had been here. it boosted your confidence in the beginning, but as that all stopped and you took real notice of diavolo- the confidence left.

so now here you stand, breathing in and out deeply at his office door. and you knock.

"come in," can be heard through the thick wooden door. so you enter, and are obviously not who he expected to walk in.

"mc? why have you come all the way here? did my text not send..." the man quickly brings out his d.d.d to genuinely check if his text sent. you make eye contact with lucifer, and just from the look in your eyes alone he says he will be excusing himself for a moment.

as he walks past you, your shoulders brush. and a whisper falls into your ear.

"make this worth it."

it boosts you further to know lucifer is supporting you in this. for a second you wonder if lucifer had ever scolded diavolo for how he treated you. but that is quickly brushed off as you approach his neatly tidied desk.

"i did, get your text that is. i came in person to give my reply."

diavolo laughs. he assumes you are joking around, you always were a little playful and he loved that about you.

well diavolo, you assumed wrongly.

"i don't think i can do this any longer."

he perches his head on the palm of his hand, looking up at you in confusion.

"diavolo, do you know what it means to be in love with someone?"

you do not speak harshly, even faced with the man who has all but abandoned you. he looks perplexed, seemingly thinking over your question. and he has a 'lightbulb' moment, eyes widening and looking into yours happily.

"love is to spend time with someone and never be tired of them!"

you want to say ding ding winner you got it right- but he doesn't see how contradicting what he thinks and what he does are.

"then do you love lucifer?"

diavolo lets out another classic one of his laughs, head thrown back against his chair. it was a serious question, but you know you can't be straightforward with his personality. he will always take it as a joke. hm, you pause in thought. maybe thats it, maybe he thinks this relationship is a joke.

"i do love lucifer yes, he is my right hand man. and so i end up spending a lot of time with him, by proxy of his job."

you find yourself nodding, it does make sense that he would connect his concept of love to lucifer always being there. but he still just doesn't understand the weight of this conversation.

"so then," you sigh, taking a step forward. "why have you chosen to date me? wouldn't you rather lucifer, going by your personal concept of love?"

diavolo hesitates.

and though this conversation will continue on, that was all the answer you needed.

"have i been an unsightly lover to you, dear?"

"yes."

diavolo goes silent again. it seems when he is right on the verge of understanding you, he takes four steps backwards.

"do you still love me then?"

you do not hesitate. "yes, i do."

diavolo purses his lips together, eyebrows knitted. once again he has the look of 'let me logically think this through' but the words that come out are rarely true logic.

"then we can continue, yes?"

"no," you whisper as you read that there truly is no sparkle in his eyes when they meet yours. lucifer walks back in from behind, and you see the sparkle appear as diavolo looks towards him with a smile.

"no, we cant."

simeon; your best american girl

you're the sun / you've never seen the night / but you hear its song from the morning birds / well i'm not the moon / i'm not even a star

sweet, loving, angelic simeon. the angel with dark hair and tanned skin. the least expected guess of who you would have fallen for.

the brothers are far too cocky, all betting on themselves.

but all it really took for you to fall was to see his smile once. and from that day forward, you would do anything to see it again. you are chasing happiness in the shape of an angel.

but you cannot have that happiness, as you do not deserve it. you are a sinner, and that is all simeon will ever see you as.

on one outing to the celestial realm, you had worn your prettiest outfit to hopefully get a compliment from your beloved angel. what you didn't expect was for simeon's angel friends to give you the exact opposite.

not only did they criticize your appearance, they attacked the ideals you hold. that demons can change, demons can be good. one in particular told you that you shant visit again because you have the scent of demons on you.

embarassed to hell and back (quite literally) you only stopped by where luke was playing with friends to tell him you had to go.

the boy was sad you couldn't stay and play, his small angel friends sad as well. they had been so excited to meet luke's cool big sibling! but you didn't want the older angels to scold the children for being around you- so you excused yourself and called diavolo.

you stand now in a beautiful field far from the center of the celestial realm, far from the angels all seeing eyes. but diavolo wasn't answering, meaning you probably couldn't come back for a bit longer. typically even someone like lucifer needed permission from diavolo to travel between realms. and if diavolo isn't picking up, then theres no point going to lucifer first.

so in a poor attempt to kill time, you begin to walk the field. beautiful vibrant flowers litter the grass, and you pick a few small ones you like to stick in your hair. when you look in the camera of your d.d.d you laugh out loud at how crazy you look.

a powerful pact holding human is in the celestial realm, sticking flowers in their hair. you never know what you're going to see when traveling realms.

bringing the phone up in front of you again, you begin to adjust the flowers so they go across the top of your head like a crown. like a halo

when you turn your head to the side is when you get the absolute jumpscare of your life behind you in the camera, nearly falling over. simeon had seen you from the castle as you walked out, and came to see why you hadn't stopped by yet.

"my dear, those flowers look lovely in your hair."

formal as ever. simeon always knows how to make you blush, like a school kid with a crush on their seatmate.

"its not a sin to pick celestial realm flowers, is it? maybe i should've checked beforehand."

you flash him a smile, gaining his laughter in return. "it is not a sin, as we are constantly giving back to the earth when we take."

his eloquence does not fall on deaf ears. you turn your head to hide the pink blossoming across your cheeks, and spot a beautiful group of blue flowers.

quickly you bend down, picking four or five before turning to simeon.

"my dearest simeon, care to match with me?"

simeon takes the small flowers from your outstretched hands, thanking you for them as if you grew them yourself. he attempts sticking them in his hair but they fall each time.

"ah, may i help..?" you started off confident, but the second those words left your lips you curled into yourself. thinking that you are dirty, you shouldn't touch him. you will taint his purity with even just the slightest of touch, that would prove how filthy you were.

"you do seem an expert, have a go at it."

his approval was all you needed to smile again, perpetually falling over and over everytime he speaks in your direction.

you carefully take the flowers from him, careful to not squish the delicate petals. once all sorted out in your hand, you step on your tippy toes and begin using your free hand to wedge the flower stems into his hair. subconsciously, the tip of your tongue is poking out of your mouth as you focus.

simeon smiles at the sight, thinking to himself how lovely you look today.

with one flower left to stick in his hair, you go to place it in the center of his head. up on your toes you go once again, but falter for a moment. right as you shake, his gloved hands grab your sides to keep you in place. you want to scream, you want to keep your composure. very contrasting wants; you go with a poor attempt of the second.

his warm hands do not leave your side until you announce you are done, and step off of your toes.

"how do i look, mc?" simeon asks quite playfully, striking a pose. quickly you pull your d.d.d back out, telling him you will take a picture to show him.

he strikes a second pose, holding his arms above his head in a heart shape. there is the widest and most stunning grin spread across his face. he truly looks like he isn't real. like a prince you would see in a picture book.

snapping back to reality you laugh looking at the photos taken. with a giggly 'what?' he comes to lean over you and see as well. the sun is glaring onto the screen from his angle, so he gently uses his hand to cover the screen from above.

once simeon finally sees the image, he is laughing along with you.

"i can't believe you talked me into this so easily. you really are magical for just a human."

for some reason, those words resonate with you. but not in a good way.

he's absolutely right- you are just a human. and here he is, the most incredible angel, a heart bigger than all the realms combined. maybe the others were right, you do not deserve him.

"would you care to take one of us both, love?"

simeons sweet voice brings you back down, your head snapping up to look at him. his face is so close you could count his eyelashes if you wished to. when you forget that he had asked a question, he poses another, as he sits down in the grass.

"where did you go?"

you know fully well what he means, and the look of concern on his face makes you want to cry. delicately forming the sentence in your head, you speak. "you're the sun, simeon."

the tanned angel gives you another one of his bright smiles, hand reaching up to grab yours and sit you down beside him. as he sits facing forwards, you sit facing him from the side.

"i mean it, simeon. you're the sun. everything about you is warm, kind. you give life and purpose to the people you meet."

simeon seems perplexed by this sudden compliment shower, half of his smile showing.

"and what would that make you? my moon? the one who is always guarding the darkness and making sure the people they love have light in dark times?"

you shake your head quickly, slightly embarrassed he would even compare you to something so beautiful.

"no, i'm not the moon. simeon, i-" you hesitate. why do you hesitate?

"yes love?"

curse this angel for always knowing how to get you spilling everything out.

"i'm not even a star. i just, simply am."

simeon hums, sounded disappointed in your words. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, for just one single second. then, perhaps, you would understand why he has fallen so infatuated with you in such a short amount of time.

he pushes off his hands that were propping him up in the grass, and locks his fingers under your knees. for a second you go to protest but fall silent as he lays your legs across his lap, pulling you closer in. you two are sat so closely you could rest your head on his broad shoulder if you wished to.

"i think you are the moon, mc. who has made you to believe you are not? those other angels luke told me of?"

christ on a stick luke and his love for you never fails. even though he may be younger and shorter, he always fights for you. even when you feel you deserve nothing except for him to walk away.

"they aren't worthy of this title, that i know to be true now."

"simeon!"

"my moon, i am just telling the truth. if they are to speak badly of someone i love i should be angry, no?"

now you really did lean into his shoulder, hiding your red face from his eyes. and as the cheeky boy he is, he knew what he was doing. with this new opportunity, your head against his shoulder. he wraps an arm around you. it feels like simeon could pull you right into him if he wanted, you are that close.

"so. huh. you love me?"

and simeon laughs loud. "out of all the words i spoke, those three words are all you heard? all i said was that you are someone i lo-"

this time around you cut simeon off with a squeal, lightly hitting your hand on his chest.

"i'm just playing, my moon. but i meant those words, that is true. what else must i do to prove it?"

lifting your head back up, you see the sparkle in his eye and smile. in turn, he raises his eyebrows and smiles, as if to say 'what?'. you bring your head back down to lay on his shoulder, warmed more now from the sun.

"you are my sun, simeon."

"yes, i picked up on that part dear." another hit to his chest that brings out his melodic laugh.

"and you are my moon, always and forever."

and of course, you two did end up taking photos together with your flower halos.

luke; goodbye, my danish sweetheart

and i don't blame you / if you want to / bury me in your memories, i'm not the girl i out to be

luke, despite being a sweet young angelic being, has experienced quite the amount of otherworldly feelings. for a bit of time now, he has come to know the feeling of anxiety festering in his bones. the fear of failure, of not being as good of an angel as simeon.

lord above, that boy idolizes simeon like no other.

he also has recently been introduced to another idol, another seemingly perfect person he wishes he could be.

that person, being you.

even in simple things like baking- something he enjoys immensely- he just feels a sort of emptiness. he can share his cookies with you, with simeon, even with solomon. but his un-angel-like feelings were baked into them instead of love, and he fears poisoning someone else with this horrible sickness he must have contracted.

luke tells himself he must just be sick, that is what is happening. something malicious must have been given to him, maybe by one of the demon brothers. he does find himself crying a lot easier from their words now, so the paranoia holds reason. to him, at least.

and of course, he doesn't dare tell michael or any of the archangels about this. what if they cast him out? tell him that he is not a true angel because of this sickness?

on one particularly bad day, you show up to rescue him.

luke is sat in the very far last stall of the school's bathroom, knees to his chest as he cries to himself.

he had started to feel the sick feeling overtake him whilst some low level demons threw jabs out at him, and it was too much to handle. too many voices, too many people, too many hateful eyes.

and as fate works, one of his idols came to save him.

you came waltzing into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. (just a note, if you identify as afab lets say you walked into the mens on accident!) luke heard the footsteps and curled further into himself, his sniffles reaching your ears.

"hello? hey, you okay?"

poor luke nearly screamed when he realized it was you. how could he let you see him like this? he will just infect you-

"luke sweets, i can see your shoes. can i come in?"

drat. you always did point out his 'twinkle toes' as you named them. he doesn't want to get you sick, so he just tells you flat out.

it takes a second before you reply, and luke thinks you might have left him all alone again.

"what hurts? i really don't mind getting sick."

how could he explain this rationally. because his head was hurting, but not the headache kind. his throat felt tight, like someone were squeezing him. and his chest was on fire, making him truly believe someone fed him a poison.

"if you don't answer i'll crawl under, you know i'm kind of crazy." luke had to stifle a laugh through his soft sniffles. slowly, he rose and unlocked the door. though he was looking everywhere else but at you.

"okay big boy, lets sit down," you happily enter the large stall, plopping down and patting the ground next to you. hesitantly, luke sits back down.

"so. what hurts?" luke shrugs his shoulders. you give him a playful push, looking to his eyes for an answer still.

luke tries his best to explain the story of how he thinks someone poisoned him, and that he was afraid he was going to have his wings taken from him. a deep deep frown sets on your face as he speaks.

"sweets, i don't think you are sick." luke goes to speak but you stop him. "no no, listen. i don't think you are poisoned, i think you are experiencing some serious anxiety. you know what that is?" luke nods, telling you that no angel he ever met had 'anxiety'. so he has concluded he must be a fake, and he is so embarassed that you now know his secret. that he doesn't blame you if you want to go to the brothers and make fun of him.

"hey, look at me. you're okay. you are the most kind and lovely angel i've ever met. even kinder than simeon!" luke wants to defend simeon, but realizes you must be just joking around.

"do you want me to tell simeon about this? i think he can help, him and i can be like 'lukes personal protectors'. how does that sound, hm?"

the tears start to well up in the small angels eyes again. "i don't want simeon to think i'm broken. that i'm not the angel i'm supposed to be."

instead of verbally telling him how wrong he is, you pull him closer and hug him tight. his adorable little hat falls off making you both laugh a little- but you are just relieve luke can still find humor in things.

if you or simeon had let this go on any longer, you feared luke would begin self destructing and end up doing actions he would regret.

"so i can talk to simeon right? you can be there too, so he can hear it from you sweets."

luke sighs exaggeratedly, but nods his head.

"do you want to go back to class?"

"no."

"fine by me. lets go play in the town!"

solomon; texas reznikoff

but i've been everywhere and it's not what i want / i want to be still with you

[ let me expose myself first this piece is inspired by a love poem i wrote for a girlfriend once, because she loved ferris wheels </3 ]

loving solomon is to board the carnival ferris wheel.

each cart is painted a beautiful color, differing throughout. sometimes the ferris wheel may be slow, and stop at the top of the sky. sometimes the ferris wheel goes so fast it seems to end before you even saw the sky.

somedays the ferris wheel was out of order, and didn't come back in service for weeks.

the long waits are what began to wear you down the most. you could see him- but only for a few hours a week maximum. you could call him, but only at certain times where his wifi would work well enough to hear you.

'you have reached the voicemail box of solomon the coolest sorcerer ever, please leave a message after the beep'.

it had been a month since you even bothered to leave a message. what would be the reason? for him to listen to three days later when his phone finally gets service?

with a heavy weight sigh, you throw yourself on your bed. checking your d.d.d, you see that asmodeus posted a selfie with solomon an hour previously. and that was how you usually found out where he was, considering he moved so much he stopped telling you.

the d.d.d slips from your hands, as they now move to rub at your cheeks. you didn't have any way to numb the pain, no way to fill the hole in your chest. a perfectly shaped circle i your chest etched permanently by a tall sorcerer.

but then you remembered alcohol exists. and that sounds bloody amazing right now.

you put on your favorite pop songs, went to the kitchen, and grabbed a fancy glass to put wine in. no one is around to judge how tall you may fill the glass, so you fill it well.

dancing around your room now, you stop for a second to change clothes. if you are going to have a night of self love, you want to at least look your best. the fanciest (dress or suit) is pulled from your messy closet, and you beam at it. it's perfect for the occasion, you can consider this a date with yourself. and it was well needed.

now dressed to the nines, you resume your playlist and move around to the beat. the wine tastes almost better when you're drinking it alone, your (dress or suit) fitting perfectly for once.

feeling playful, you grab your phone and quickly take some pictures. one is a classic selfie, wine glass in frame. the next is a full body shot in the mirror to show off your outfit. and the final is a timer set photo where you stood posing against your wall, wine glass raised as if to say 'cheers'.

quickly you went to post them, to show everyone how well you were doing. and to show how amazing you looked, obviously.

the caption took a bit of thinking, but you finally settled on 'cheers to date nights with yourself' with a few heart emojis. confident in your photos and figure, you didn't hesitate to click post.

and then the phone was put back down, music back all the way up as you waltzed with yourself.

for once, you were thankful you had decided to reside in a smaller town where the houses are a bit far from each other. you wouldn't have to worry about noise complaints, yelling neighbors, any distractions.

this was your damn night and nothing could ruin it.

and by nothing, i mean solomon calling no more than five minutes after you put the phone down.

immediately you froze, staring down. you wondered why the music didn't stop playing the call, and only then did you realize you had taken and posted the pictures with your d.d.d. not your iphone. not on instagram. oh lord.

you scrambled to pick up your ringing d.d.d, catching it just as it was about to end. as you said hello over the line to your distant lover, you saw some rain begin to lightly dust your window.

"mc, where are you?"

it was definitely the alcohol that caused you to scoff. who is he to ask that right now?

"home, alone. hows the devildom?"

solomon does not speak for a moment. it seems he is trying to gather his words carefully.

"how much have you had to drink?" he sounds cautious, and it almost pisses you off more. "i don't know, don't really care. i'm having fun!"

solomon sighs. his end of the line goes strange for a second, and you call out another 'hello?'

"i'm still here, sorry. damned d.d.d does that a lot when i-" solomon cuts his sentence off. and unfortunately for him, you weren't drunk enough to ignore that. not even close enough.

"when you what?" solomon is silent.

"solomon...?"

you hear a deep breath from the other line, cutting through the silence. and then, the sound of rain.

"can you please let me in? it's colder than hell out here love."

before you have time to think, your body reacts and you drop the wine glass. it shatters almost beautifully, like a star exploding in the night sky. and then you really truly register the words your lover has spoken.

without care you toss the d.d.d onto the couch as you all but run to the front door. a part of you is afraid you're about to wake up, this is is a wine induced dream. but after a moment, you open the door.

and in all his beautiful glory, there stands your beloved sorcerer. albeit a little wet from the rain, but still the most ethereal creature you've ever seen.

and then you remember you're mad at him.

leaving him at the open door, you walk back into the living room and begin cleaning up all the glass shards. a few had hit your feet pretty hard, but you didn't feel them or take notice at all.

solomon eventually comes into the room as well, immediately racing over and taking the broom and pan.

"please go sit on the couch. your feet," he gestures down with his head. "they're bleeding. give me a moment to pick this up."

and in a wierd, very solomon way, he casts a spell to pick up all of the shards and sends them to the trashcan in the kitchen.

"right, where do we keep medical here love?"

"you would know if you were ever home." you don't even give poor boy a second to breathe.

but he takes your anger in stride, knowing he somewhat deserves it. so he turns to the bedroom, and emerges a few minutes later with a first aid kit. he instructs you to turn so you are sitting against the arm rest, to let him clean your feet easier. neither of you say a word until he is done pulling out shards, and bandaging up cuts.

"i'm sorry, dove. i've been a horrible lover to you."

you want to retort. oh god above, you want to yell at him with every ounce of your soul. but you also want to cry. because its been two months since you last saw him in person. and now, in this mess of a night, he has to see you like this.

solomon is surprised though when you do start crying. he comes to your side, crouching down to hold you by your shoulders.

"mc, please look at me. i'm so sorry. i'm here now and that won't take back all the times i wasn't. but i'm here now."

rather abruptly you wrap yourself around him, arms over his shoulders and a hand in his damp hair.

"i thought you would never come back. that you enjoy traveling more than," a pause to sniffle. "being with me." solomon is quick as ever to hush you and hold you tighter. he wishes there was a spell to fix this, a magic to make you happy again. but that is not what you want, that's what he wants.

"listen dove, i've been everywhere. name a place and i've been there before, but thats not what i want."

you lift your head enough to look him in the eyes as you speak softly. "then what is it that you want?"

solomon doesn't hesistate.

"i want to be still with you."

solomon seems to stop hesitating from then on, by that i mean cancelling all of his plans for the next three months to be still with you.

the ferris wheel is finally back in maintenance, and his eyes are promising that it will never break down ever again.

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me reactions #obey me headcannons #obey me x mitski #obey me angst #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me x reader #obey me x you

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes

"In my daughter's eyes, I am a hero. I am strong and wise, and I know no fear. But the truth is plain to see: she was sent to rescue me. I see who I want to be. In my daughter's eyes...And when she wraps her hand around my finger, how it puts a smile in my heart. Everything becomes a little clearer; I realize what life is all about. It's hanging on when your heart has had enough. It's giving more when you feel like giving up I've seen the light: It's in my daughter's eyes."

Claire’s husband has abandoned her and their daughter, Faith, because he is unable to handle her diagnosis of nonverbal autism. In order to start a new life, Claire has taken Faith to New York. Desperate for some kind of breakthrough in Faith’s treatment, she decides to try horse therapy, where she meets Jamie Fraser, Faith’s assigned hippotherapist. Claire is overwhelmed and touched by Jamie’s dedication to his work, and his particular dedication to her daughter.

Chapter 1: Four Incidents

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Claire’s nerves were positively shot. The past ten or so hours had been hell for her poor daughter, and, subsequently, for her as well. The first incident had arisen from the fact that four-year-old Faith had never been in such a crowded setting before. Immediately upon stepping through the doors of the airport and seeing the bustling hoards of people, she had begun yanking on her mother’s hand, digging her stubborn heels into the tile, and screaming her head off. Claire had come prepared; she had her noise-canceling headphones for the flight, but she hadn’t anticipated needing them for the airport itself. In actuality, it wasn’t really that loud, and so this tantrum had her absolutely dreading the upcoming flight.

Claire was used to the stares, the disapproval, the tuts of sympathy. She’d even heard her fair share of blatant, verbal criticism of her parenting. So, she let that roll off her back. What she wasn’t used to was Airport Police coming up to her and questioning what her intentions were with her own child. She’d had to stammer to them while her face and neck flushed red, tears of embarrassment stinging her eyes.

“Yes, I am her mother—You don’t understand; she has autism. She’s never been somewhere so crowded before. She’s just overwhelmed.”

Have you never bloody seen a child throw a tantrum before?

Well, perhaps they had, but they certainly hadn’t been privy to a Faith tantrum.

Panic began clenching her gut, remembering the time she’d been asked to leave a grocery store because Faith had wet herself, then proceeded to roll around on the floor, inconsolable. That had been the worst one to date.

This one was quickly rivaling it, however.

They asked her to provide proof that Faith was her child; proof that she was not kidnapping her.

“I can’t let go of her hand—please, she’ll run outside and right into traffic.”

“I’ll hold onto her, ma’am.”

“No—”

It was too late. The man put a hand on Faith’s shoulder, and all hell broke loose. Claire had to tighten her grip on her hand to the point of her knuckles whitening. If Faith was screaming before, now she was howling. The Airport Police were in a frenzy; they had no idea what to do.

“Faith! Darling, please, it’s alright.”

Claire let their suitcases go, dropped her purse and fell to her knees to wrap her arms around Faith’s middle from behind. It wasn’t long before a little fist collided with her lip. At some point in the proceedings, Claire had managed to say: “Look for our passports your fucking self if you really must have proof that she’s mine.”

They did.

“Faith! Faith Julia Randall, if you don’t stop this right now, there will be no dessert tonight.”

Another loud wail.

“Do you hear me? I’m going to count to ten, Faith. By ten, if you are not quiet, no dessert.”

Another cry.

“One. Two.”

Claire tasted blood in her mouth. Seemed that her daughter had given her another fat lip.

“Three. Four.”

By some bloody miracle, her thrashing was finally starting to calm.

“Five. Six.”

The screaming stopped.

“Seven. Eight.”

Faith’s full bodyweight collapsed into Claire, and Claire let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. There you go. Good girl…good girl.”

She rocked her gently, kissed her head. “Good girl, Faith. It’s alright now.”

The Airport Police were still standing there, stunned into silence.

“Uh…ma’am…your lip is bleeding.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” Claire snapped before returning her attention to Faith. “Shh…it’s alright…”

“I’m, uh…sorry for making it worse, ma’am,” the other officer said softly. “Would, uh…this help?”

He held something down to her, pointedly reaching for Claire and not Faith. Claire looked up to see him holding out a set of little plastic wings, clearly some “junior assistant pilot” badge they occasionally gave out to children.

“It might. Thank you.”

“I’m Officer Hansen, ma’am. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Just…just watch my bags until I’ve gotten her calm. Thank you.”

He nodded.

“Hey…Faithie…” Claire crooned, stroking her tear soaked cheek. “Look what Mummy has.” She held the little wings in her palm in front of Faith’s eyes. “Do you want to be a pilot, Faith? What about that?”

Hiccuping and coughing through her tears, she reached out for the wings and held them in her hands, examining them closely.

“Do you like it?”

Faith nodded ever-so-slightly.

“Shall we put it on?” She gently turned Faith around and took the pin in her hand, fastening it to a belt loop. Faith did not wear pins or wristbands in a conventional manner. The feeling of something poking her skin through her shirt or something rubbing her wrist caused her sensory overload, so the belt loop is where such things ended up.

“Good girl.”

Claire took her hand and made to stand up, but Faith uttered an indignant noise that froze her in her spot. She sighed in surrender.

“I’m afraid she’s going to make me carry her, or else we’ll all be privy to another tantrum…” Claire said, scooping her up and settling her on her hip. “Could you…would it be terribly inconvenient if you were to help with our luggage?”

“We’re police, ma’am, not busboys — ”

“I’d be happy to help, ma’am.” Officer Hansen cut the other officer off.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Claire practically burst into tears, overwhelmed with gratefulness.

She’d underestimated how difficult it would be to travel with a child as special as Faith alone.

Claire shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Frank right now.

Keeping Faith calm by making criss-cross patterns on her back with her fingertips and making a rushing “shh” noise in her ear for white noise, Claire and the officer made their way to the check-in counter. He handled her purse,credit card, and ID as well, and Claire could have gotten on her knees and kissed his feet. She could tell he was genuinely sorry for what had happened as a result of his and his partner’s ignorance, and he was determined to see that they got on their flight in one piece.

He also got them through pre-check, using his privileges to escort them through the faster line. Once they were through, he handed her back her purse and Faith’s carry-on Frozen backpack.

“I’ve put the boarding passes at the top so you can get to them easier. In case you never get to put her down.” He smiled apologetically. “I really am sorry — ”

“Please, it’s alright,” Claire said. “I really, really appreciate all you’ve done for us. You have no idea how hard it is to do this…”

“Alone,” he finished for her.

“Yeah.” Claire nodded.

“If there’s anything else you need, you can ask anybody with a walkie-talkie to page Officer Hansen. Alright?”

She smiled warmly. “Thank you. Truly.”

He nodded curtly and then went off.

The second incident had arisen when they’d come across a kiosk selling mini cereal boxes, and Faith’s eye had been caught by a box of Fruit-Loops that had Elsa on it. Claire had been loath to buy more cereal, being that she already had plain cheerios in Faith’s carry-on that had been much cheaper than the robbery for which the Fruit Loops were selling. She tried to resist, but fearing prompting another tantrum, she yielded. She bought the box and stealthily managed to switch the bag of Fruit Loops inside the box with the bag of Cheerios, knowing full well that the sugar content of the Fruit Loops would make the upcoming flight unbearable.

So there they sat, waiting at the terminal, Faith kicking her legs and bouncing while clutching her tablet, watching Frozen with her noise-cancelling headphones on with Claire occasionally popping a Cheerio into her open mouth.

The third incident had arisen when it was time to board and Claire tried to put Faith’s pink sequined sleep-mask over her eyes to prevent her from seeing how close-quarters the aircraft was. She’d immediately moaned in protest, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the movie. Claire knew she was taking a leap of faith (and she laughed to herself at the pun), but with bated breath she allowed Faith to simply walk onto the boarding bridge with her nose stuck in her tablet.

Before long, she was seated and buckled, tablet in her lap, her eyes never having left the screen.

It bloody worked.

Claire could have cried with relief.

Claire had to plead with the stewardess to convince her that Faith’s tablet was not a “large electronic device,” and the stewardess had conceded; as long as it stayed in her lap and the tray remained in the upright position, Faith could keep watching her movie.

The fourth incident, of course, occurred when the plane started to take off. Even with noise-cancelling headphones, the rushing mechanical noise and the feeling of the vibration everywhere was too much for her. She clamped her hands over her headphones, and she immediately began squirming, trying to unbuckle her seatbelt. Then, of course, the sensation of the take-off itself did not help at all. Claire had given herself a pep-talk every morning leading up to this flight for weeks: “It’s not your fault. The people judging you have no idea what you deal with every day. You can’t help her sensory overload. Ignore them.”

But she still couldn’t help the rush of embarrassed heat on her neck as the familiar side-eyes and conspicuous whispers began.

After literally clamping her hands down on Faith’s shoulders to keep her seated for about an hour, Faith finally became engrossed in the movie again. Claire had also prepared in that she knew getting Faith to use the bathroom on the aircraft would be a disaster. Since being potty-trained was still relatively new--even though she was four, potty-training an autistic child was a whole different animal--Claire had put a fresh pull-up on her right before they boarded to prevent as many trips as possible.

Finally, ten or so hours since the initial meltdown, Claire was standing at baggage claim, holding her sleeping daughter. She’d fallen asleep with about two hours left in the flight and slept straight through the descent and the landing, thank God. Claire had never been particularly religious, but she’d had the urge to cross herself upon realizing she’d be avoiding a fifth incident.

When the blaring alarm sounded, signaling that the baggage claim carousel was beginning, Faith jolted awake in her arms.

Fuck.

She began wailing again, clamping her hands over the headphones.

Do those bloody things cancel any noise?

Admittedly, it could have been worse. It seemed that she was just alarmed to be woken so suddenly, because, after about twenty seconds, she was calm again. Claire had to put her down to collect their baggage, and she struggled greatly to get the suitcase off the moving carousel with one hand. Letting go of Faith’s hand was simply not an option.

She was eternally grateful, then, to the stranger who helped her with both bags.

Bloody ironic that you’ve met two strange men today that have done more for you and your daughter than her own father.

Pushing that dark thought aside once more, Claire made her way to the taxi pick up area and strapped Faith into the rental car seat. Their 11:20 departure from Heathrow International had landed them at MacArthur Airport at 2:07 on the dot. After a seven hour and forty-five minute flight, there was only a twenty-two minute taxi drive and then they’d finally be in their new home: an apartment complex only a few miles away from Stony Brook University Hospital, where Claire would be doing her residency.

She’d never particularly imagined herself living in (or on, as they say here) Long Island of all places. After her unconventional and rather rugged upbringing, thinking of herself living in suburbia, only about an hour from those Hamptons she’d heard so much about, was enough to make her chuckle to herself. Gillian had assured her that the entire island wasn’t like the stereotype she’d imagined, which had slightly put her mind at ease. That wasn’t what had drawn her there, of course.

She’d been drawn to the area by a great many things. She wanted to be away from the cluttered, cramped feeling of Europe; away from Frank, quite honestly, as far as possible. She didn’t want to be in a city; she knew the noise would be far too much for Faith. The quiet suburbs of Long Island seemed to fit, and she’d heard excellent things about Stony Brook. Lastly, and most importantly were the amazing things she’d heard about equine therapy for special needs children. There were such places in England, but none had as many glowing reviews as the one that was only an eighteen minute drive from their new home: Harmony Stables.

Faith had always had an affinity for animals, and Claire felt guilty that she couldn’t commit to taking care of a dog so that she could have a service dog. It wasn’t the finances, per se, just the thought of having two lives to look after on her own was an overwhelming thought. Perhaps someday when they were settled. Faith’s psychiatrist in Oxfordshire had suggested some sort of animal therapy, and she spoke of the wonders equine therapy had done for a previous patient. At this point, Claire would try anything. Anything to calm the horrible anxiety that she knew plagued her daughter every second of any given day. The Risperdal was not doing much on its own. As much as the meltdowns fried Claire’s nerves and caused her much embarrassment, she was certain they fried Faith’s nerves about ten times as much. If learning to ride and forming a connection with a horse could take away even a fraction of that crippling anxiety, Claire would pay any amount of money to make that happen.

She’d also, of course, done research regarding her education. She was aware of the specific needs of her non-verbal autistic daughter; knew she needed to learn to communicate, either find someone to coax words out of her or learn sign language, knew she needed to learn how to read and how to behave in a public setting. She’d already made arrangements for a private tutor to come to the house like she’d done in Oxfordshire. She’d been in contact with a Mrs. Lickett, a lovely woman. Together, they would decide if Faith would be ready for a special needs kindergarten class come next fall, or if they should wait another year. Mrs. Lickett had assured her that it was common for children like Faith to continue with private instruction and wait to start real school until six or seven.

Claire’s reverie was broken when she felt the taxi stop and she looked up with wide eyes at the building before her. The buildings in the complex were only two stories high, the grass was neatly trimmed, and the doors were all stark white with shimmering gold numbers.

Well, it’s not a cul-de-sac housing development, but it sure still feels like suburbia.

Number eleven was theirs, on the second floor. The cab driver helped with the luggage as Claire tugged Faith up the stairs, eyes still glued to her tablet, which was now playing Sesame Street. Claire’s fingers shook as she pushed the key into the lock, and she exhaled sharply when she took in the sight of the living room. She’d had most of the things she didn’t want to replace sent over about a week and a half ago, along with ordering new essentials like furniture and mattresses. But the movers and delivery men hadn’t bothered to keep anything separated by room like she’d requested, except for the furniture itself. Sighing deeply, she sat Faith on the couch beside a stack of boxes and paid the taxi driver, thanking him profusely.

God…where do I even begin?

Claire supposed she should start with finding and unpacking bedroom items, preferring to have both of their beds made before they crashed tonight. Kitchen stuff could wait; they’d most definitely be getting takeout tonight…and probably every night for the foreseeable future.

She started to rifle through boxes and then she smiled and turned to Faith, intending to let her know how very exciting it was to be in their new home, but she bit her tongue. It would perhaps be better to leave her, for now, completely engrossed in the tablet. If Claire interrupted her now, who knows when she’d be able to get anything done? Sadness tugged at her heart briefly as she watched her daughter, a vague, absent smile on her face. She wondered if she had any idea at all what was going on, if she’d be anxious in a new environment, if it wouldn’t phase her at all, if she was excited. She had no way of communicating her thoughts and emotions, even to her own mother, and it was times like this where that thought pained Claire the most.

She wanted nothing more than to blast her Disney playlist and christen the new living room with their dancing, to revel in this new beginning with her daughter. But for the sake of productivity, that would have to wait.

With a heavy sigh, Claire returned to her boxes, intent on finding bedsheets and blankets. She wanted to turn on music, knowing that she worked better that way, but she didn’t want anything to distract Faith from her, well, distraction. She settled on humming “Let it Go,” of all things, to herself while she worked to find what they’d need to carry out the rest of the day with some semblance of normalcy.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander modern au #outlander au #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #jamie fraser #faith fraser

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