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#it drives me crazy how it kept panning away from her while she was talking -_-
emilylprentiss · 2 years
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We were at the bar and we ran into Charmaine. Don’t tell me. Mel hadn’t heard about your little friend before meeting her? No, I suppose she hadn’t...
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adriennebarnes · 5 months
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We’re Just Friends
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: In this, we will see the friendship between Walter and Y/N and Walter’s first act of protectiveness; let’s face it, it wasn’t his first time punching a man because of Y/N
A/N: If y’all have seen Gilmore Girls, Walter and Y/N will be like Luke and Lorelai in the way that they hang out outside of work. If y’all haven’t, Luke/Walter is known for being grumpy in his place of work and in general. BUT he lets Lorelai/YN who is basically a ray of sunshine on caffeine get away with EVERYTHING. Lorelai/YN call Luke/Walter if they need to rant or need something fixed, they have a good friendship, very “you came, you called”
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Ever since Walter gave Y/N apology cookies, they were closer, they got to know each other. They even started hanging out at friends outside of work which was rare for Walter.
Walter and Y/N could be seen at the mall, shopping for Faye because Walter is clueless about what to get her. They were walking down the aisles at Barnes and Noble.
“How do you not know what to get your daughter, Don Refri?” Y/N asked him.
“I thought that name was for the district.” Walter said.
“That name is for everywhere, Don Refri. Seriously, how do you not know?” Y/N stopped walking and stood in front of him.
“I know what my daughter likes, the only problem is that I don’t know if Angie and her new husband have already bought it for her.” Walter said, looking down at Y/N (I'm 5'3 and a half, yes, my doctor counts the half inch, but Henry is 6'1 so he's pretty tall, whatever height you are, he will still be looking down at you)
“Yeah, divorce makes it harder. I’m Just guessing, my parents are still together.” Y/N said with a smile. (If they are divorced, ignore that last sentence) “How about a funko pop, does she like Marvel?" Y/N said, holding up a Captain America funko pop that was on the shelf.
"I think she is more of a DC fan." Walter said, poking the Superman funko pop on the shelf.
They could even be seen at Y/N's apartment drinking coffee.
"Thanks again for fixing my lock, it was driving me crazy.” Y/N said, giving Walter a pan dulce to drink with his coffee.
“Yeah of course, wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe in the neighborhood.” Walter said.
“Still, you could have come tomorrow but you came tonight, so I appreciate it.” Y/N said.
“It’s a 5 minute drive, you’re close by. What is this, by the way?” Walter asked
“It’s pan dulce, there’s a little Mexican bakery that i like to go to, really good, I gave you a concha.” Y/N said, also taking a bite out of her concha. Walter have it a taste.
“You’re right, it’s really good.” Walter said. They kept talking until Walter finished his coffee and they said goodbye.
The next day, Walter came into the police department with a thermos in hand and an paper bag in the other. He walked over to Y/N’s cubicle and knocked on her desk.
“Good morning, Don Refri, how are you today?” Y/N asked.
“Good morning to you too, Y/N, I’m good, and you?” Walter replied.
“Im good, what’s in the bag?” Y/N asked, she was curious to know what’s inside.
“I went to the coffee shop this morning and got you something. It might not be as good as the pan Dulce from your Mexican bakery, but this coffee shop is Latina owned.” Walter said and Y/N opened the paper bag and saw manteconchas and polvorones.
“Oh my gosh, they look so good, they smell good too, gracias Don Refri, ya te estás calentando.” Y/N said, giving him a hug. Walter hugged back and went to his office while Rachel turned to Y/N with a smirk on her face.
“Walter brought you Mexican pastries? How nice of him, looks like you might be his favorite.” Rachel said.
“Maybe it’s because I’m new, I’m sure the novelty will wear off.” Y/N said.
“Maybe, maybe not. Who knows.” Rachel said, going downstairs.
A week later, Y/N entered the department and it was all chaos, she walked over to Glasgow to see if he could tell her what’s going on.
“Why is everyone acting like my mom when Luis Miguel announced his tour?” Y/N asked.
“Detective Marshall finally found a lead to the guy who’s been trafficking teenaged girls. We got his license plate and planted a tracking device on his van so Walter asked me to see where the van stops and that’ll be this guy’s hide out,” Glasgow explained. A few minutes later, “I found him! He’s in an All Inc Warehouse!”
“Let’s get a move on, we’re finally gonna get this son of a bitch.” Walter said as he grabbed his gun and out on his vest to leave with the other officers.
“What does he mean by ‘finally’? Has this been a tough case?” Y/N said, finally being able to sit at her desk.
“Detective grumpy has been working on this case for a month. It’s been driving him crazy knowing that the guy was still out there.” Rachel said, walking in, sipping her coffee.
“Then I’m glad he’s finally catching him.” Y/N said.
An hour later, Walter walked into the district with the guy in handcuffs. Walter takes him downstairs to put him in a holding cell. He walked back upstairs.
“Y/N, i need to fill out a report, come with me please.” Walter said and Y/N followed him.
“Congratulations on the arrest, Don Refri. How does it feel?” Y/N asked.
“It feels good. How was the Mexican bread?” Walter asked.
“The polvorones we’re really good and the manteconcha was delicious. I saved you a polvorón because you have to try it. Where did you get them?” Y/N asked.
“I got it at Abogados Café.” Walter said. “What does that mean, by the way?”
“Lawyers coffee. Do they have Cuban coffee?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t know, we can check it some other day.” Walter said.
Hours later, Walter and Y/N were finishing their paper work.
“Hey Don Refri, how do you feel about going to a bar tonight? You don’t have to drink, but I think it’ll be fun. We could celebrate that you finally solved that case! Rachel told me you’ve been working on that shit for a month.” Y/N said as she put on her jacket.
“I Don’t know about that, Y/N.” Walter said.
“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m asking you to get drunk. Let’s just go to a bar, you can play pool with the guys, I can eat some fries. We could go to Brunson’s Pub! Or Skinner’s or Iron Ranger, I don’t care, I just want a night out and I really don’t feel like cooking.” Y/N practically begged Walter as she was holding onto his biceps.
“Fine, fine, we’ll go to Brunson’s, they have more food there, I’ll tell the guys, you can tell Rachel. Group celebration.” Walter said and Y/N was happy. She texted Rachel about going to the pub and Rachel was down.
“Rachel said she’ll be there, what about Matthew and Glasgow?” Y/N said.
“Yeah, they’re coming too. You want me to drive you?” Walter said.
“And leave my car here?” Y/N asked.
“I’ll drive you to work tomorrow, it’ll be fine. This way you can drink as much as you want.” Walter said.
“Jaja, mira que funny eres.” Y/N said. They walked out of the department and got into Walter’s car. Walter put on a random playlist on Spotify. Y/N was looking out the window when she heard a familiar song, “Oh my gosh, I haven’t heard this song in forever. I love ‘colgando en tus manos’, my mom would play it in the house all the time.”
“Yeah, I found a playlist with Spanish songs, thought it would be good, maybe help with my Spanish with us being friends and all.” Walter said.
“You Don’t even know what Carlos Baute is singing right now.” Y/N commented.
“It doesn’t matter, you like this kind of music, right?” Walter asked.
“It reminds me of my life in Miami, before Latin music went mainstream.” Y/N said. They kept talking and listening to music until Walter parked in the parking lot at Brunson’s. They walked in together.
“Hey, look who made it! Detective Grumpy and his sunshine partner.” Matthew said.
“Hey, we’re not at work right now but I’m still your boss, watch it. How much have you had to drink?” Walter asked.
“He had 3 tequila shots.” Glasgow said.
“How did he get here?” Walter asked.
“I took an Uber.” Matthew said.
“Same.” Rachel and Glasgow said.
“Great, well I gotta stay sober because I have to take Y/N home. What do you want to drink?” Walter asked, turning to Y/N.
“I want a ‘bad hombre’ and you should get yourself a beer, we’re celebrating you, you should be able to let loose.” Y/N said.
“All right, I’ll go to the bar.” Walter said and Y/N slid into the booth. Walter came back with a beer, a “bad hombre” which has reposado and mezcal, and an Italian sandwich for Y/N. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, Don refri.” Y/N said. They were all talking and laughing, having a good time but Walter stepped away. “Damn, I’m running low, I’m gonna see of i Can get a beer, be right back.” Y/N said and walked to the bar when bumped into a tall man. “Oh I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, you’re good. Wait a minute, Y/N?” The man said and Y/N looked up to see a familiar face.
“No way, Mitch, how are you? What are you doing here in Minnesota?” Y/N asked as she hugged Mitch (Dylan O’Brien) a friend she made back in Virginia.
“My brother Steven wanted to go skiing. You want me to order you a beer?” Mitch asked.
“Yeah, get me a modelo.” Y/N said and Mitch told the bartender to get him two modelo beers. “Well, how’s the CIA treating you?”
“The CIA is fine. Listen, I’m sorry to hear that the FBI didn’t work out for you but maybe you can come back to Virginia and become part of the CIA.” Mitch said.
“I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can cut out as a CIA agent.” Y/N said. They kept talking and Walter got out of the bathroom to see Y/N talking to Mitch. He went back to his booth.
“Who’s that guy?” Walter asked.
“I Don’t know but he’s cute.” Rachel said. Walter went closer to hear their conversation.
“You’d do great. I swear, I would love to work with you.” Mitch said.
“Mitch, honestly, stop insisting, I’m not doing it.” Y/N said. All Walter heard was Y/N telling Mitch “no” so Walter got closer and..
“Didn’t you hear her? She said no.” And Walter decked Mitch, Mitch landing in the floor. Y/N got out of her stool.
“Walter! What did you do?” Y/N asked, facing Walter.
“Wasn’t he bothering you?” Walter asked.
“No! Walter this is Mitch, my friend who’s in the CIA. Mitch, this is Walter.” Y/N said as she helped Mitch off the floor.
“He’s your boyfriend or something?” Mitch asked.
“No, we’re just friends.” Y/N said and Walter walked outside the bar, he needed fresh air. “And he’s technically my boss at the police department. He’s a detective.”
“Well He’s quite protective of you. I should give you my number so we could hang out next time I’m in Minnesota.” Mitch said,
“That would be great.” Y/N said and they exchanged numbers. “It was great seeing you, I gotta talk to Walter.” Y/N walked outside and saw Walter leaning against his car. “What the hell was that in there?”
“Sorry, Y/N, I thought he was just a random drunk harassing you. I didn’t know he was a friend of yours.” Walter admitted.
“You could have asked. Just don’t do it again, okay.” Y/N said,
“I won’t. Are you sure you’re all right? He didn’t try anything?” Walter asked,
“Nah, Mitch is a good guy, he wanted me to ‘try out’ for the CIA but I told him no. Thanks for being protective though, I appreciate it.” Y/N said and she hugged him. “Can we go back inside? I’m kinda cold and this skirt isn’t helping.” Y/N said and Walter chuckled.
“Yeah, we can go back inside.” Walter said, leading her into the pub with his hand on the small of her back.
The End
Hope y’all liked it! i just guessed about the Latina owned coffee shop but then I was looking up coffee shops in Saint Paul and that’s when I found Abogados Café! I looked up the bars and the warehouses because I like my fanfics to be accurate when I’m writing about a state I don’t know anything about. Also, super sorry about the late “update”, I’m finishing up the fall semester and i have so much work to do but I’m procrastinating so…that’s gonna bite me in the ass when the time comes. Comment if you want to be added to the tag list
Taglist: @shellyshellshell @warriormirkwood @secretdream2
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cobaincreates · 3 years
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touch pt. 2
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warnings: smut (surprise), oral (female receiving), 18+, language, literally no plot & i’m not sorry
count: 3k+
part two part two part two baby! thanks for all the love on the first! ✨taglist is open✨ i’m smoochin’ all your faces
— — —
sarah bustled around her room like it was on fire. her clothes were thrown messily on her floor and she had half of her hair up in a crazy-looking bun. you laughed from where you snuggled into her pillow. you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, having woken up to the closet doors groaning open.
“oh my god, where the hell did i put them?” sarah said, but you knew she wasn’t asking you in particular. her hands dug through a basket in her closet.
sitting up, you figured now was as good a time as any to get moving. with sarah leaving soon, you didn’t feel comfortable just lying in her bed like she insisted. given that you were best friends, and her house was your house, and vice versa, you jumped at the opportunity of leaving. she always offered the possibility of you staying longer than you wanted because she was a good friend.
which was why when you cleared your throat and tasted her brother, your cheeks lit up with a steady burning fire. you were glad her back was to you as she switched bikini tops, replacing the blue for the yellow. were you ashamed or reminiscing? there wasn’t time to think about it as she finished getting ready.
“you’re more than welcome to stay, you know. i feel bad running out on you.” sarah repeated once more.
“it’s fine. go have fun with john b and fill me in later.” you wiggled your eyebrows at her as you gathered your things and threw on your sweatshirt.
“how about we order some takeout and binge watch how to get away with murder next weekend?”
“that would be great.”
sarah beamed at you before leading you out of her room and down the stairs. you kept your eyes straight but noted the ajar door to rafe’s room. maybe he had already left for the day.
“morning!” rose chirped happily as you followed sarah into the kitchen. it all seemed very familiar as you walked in, even though you’d been in the cameron’s kitchen more times than you could count, but also because the last time had been less than six hours ago.
everybody was awake and doing something. wheezie was eating freezer waffles, ward had a few manila folders splayed in front of him on the table, and rose was cutting up oranges. sarah gave her a hug from behind as she passed and then turned to smack rafe’s back lightly as he cooked something on the stove.
you breathed in sharply at the sight of him. you blinked last night’s events away given that his entire family was right in front of you and now was not the time to think about it. you reminded yourself not to give anything away with your best friend in the same room. but you also wondered if rafe thought the same thing. would he try to hide it?
“you two sleep okay? i turned the air off since it was so nice out last night.” rose said.
you caught rafe’s eye when he looked over, that tiny jolt going up your arms. your feet melted into the floor and rose looked over at you with a sweet smile as sarah leaned on her other side.
“i was pretty comfortable,” sarah shrugged and took a slice of orange.
“you girls hungry? i’m sure rafe could make something up.”
“i’m going out with john b. he should be here in a few minutes.”
“y/n?” rose lifted her perfect brows as you stood at the end of the island, holding all of your things tightly.
“i’m actually going to head out,” you said. “thank you for the offer though.”
“aw, are you sure?” rose set down the knife on the cutting board. rafe glanced over his shoulder as the contents of the pan sizzled.
“yes. thank you though. i’ll see you guys again soon.” you hugged rose when she came toward you and you waved to sarah and the rest of the family at the table. you and rafe looked at each other once more before you walked out.
“oooh, look at these! i love these! how much?”
“12 dollars. they would go great with your top actually.”
“you’re so right! i’ll take them.”
the customer beamed at you as they handed over the set of sea glass earrings. you rang them up and returned some change before wrapping the jewelry in tissue paper and sealing it with the boutique’s sticker. you placed the wrapped gift carefully into a tiny reusable bag and handed it over.
“have a good day,” you smiled your noteworthy customer service smile and relaxed once they left, the front doorbell going off.
it wasn’t that you hated your job. but you hated your job. the main reason was that it was part time, and the second main reason was because you hated working in retail. it was exhausting having to put on a fake smile and answer stupid questions like whether or not you sold earrings when you literally worked in a jewelry store. it was tiring really, if only for four hours a day.
thankfully, you were due to clock out in about fifteen minutes and you couldn’t wait. you busied yourself with cleaning a few displays then restocking some with new styles your boss, the owner, had batched out the week before. 
“hey, y/n,” you looked up at your co-worker coming through the front door. your shoulders tensed as the cheery doorbell went off, but the arrival of your co-worker was always a relief.
“did you dye your hair again?” you eyed their bright locks as they went behind the counter and situated themselves for the rest of the day.
“yup and i think i’ll stick with it for a while. you like?”
“it’s bright.” you tried to say it as politely as you could. “maybe you’ll bring in more customers.”
they laughed at your comment and disappeared into the back. you turned to the display and set a few necklaces down.
once you gathered your things and said goodbye to your boss in the back office, you waved to your co-worker and toned out the bell above your head as you left.
the main street where the boutique was was swarming like a beehive. it was tourist season after all and there was nothing better to do on the island than shop or laze around at the beach. the island was perfect since both activities didn’t require much travel.
you glanced into a few windows as you walked down the sidewalk, dodging a couple kids with heaping amounts of ice cream on a tiny cone. the sun beat down from above and it was a wonder that the ice cream hadn’t already melted down their wrists.
your ears perked up at the sound of a car horn and a second later a truck was pulling up right beside you. looking over curiously, you recognized the gray truck and the person behind the wheel. your stomach leaped.
“hey.” rafe called from his seat as you both came to a stop.
“hi.” you said, feeling frozen momentarily.
“do you want a ride?” he asked in a hopeful tone that you couldn’t stop thinking about once it left his mouth.
you hadn’t seen or heard from him in a couple days since your sleepover with sarah and a part of you didn’t think you’d talk to him again until you went back to his house. you thought it was weird that he didn’t text you or even call, but then you reminded yourself that he was your best friend’s brother, and she didn’t know about what had happened between you two. you wondered if she would be angry with you.
you thought about accepting his offer, seeing no real harm in it. it was only a fifteen-minute walk otherwise. but something drove you to say yes and before you knew it, you were grabbing ahold of the door handle.
“thanks.” you said as you settled into the passenger’s seat. he pulled away from the curb easily as you put your seatbelt on, listening for the satisfying click of the lock.
“you just get out of work?” he asked, making small talk.
“yeah.” you nodded and glanced at his arm. the vein taunted you as he reached out to fiddle with the radio. you shifted in your seat. “what were you doing?”
“i had to drop some stuff off at the post office for my dad and work. i saw you walking and figured i could offer you a ride. even though you don’t live far.” he said with a soft shrug.
“i appreciate it.” you said and looked out the rolled down window.
you watched the cement walkway disappear and turn into the fine sand along the shoulder of the road. houses started to litter the street instead of the businesses and storefronts. you could hear the sand under rafe’s tires and you closed your eyes for a moment to focus on the breeze. you opened them back up when you felt the ghost of rafe’s fingers in your hair.
looking away from the dusty shoulder, you set your gaze on the road stretched before you. rafe kept a lose hand on the very top of the wheel, his other resting in his lap. you swallowed and licked your lips. 
“rafe?”
“yeah?”
willing yourself to look up at him, trying to act quickly before he reached your house, you stared at the side of his face. he glanced over quickly then back to the road.
“don’t bring me home.” you said in a small voice, hoping the question didn’t lead to rejection.
his eyes flicked to your face, his jaw flexing. “okay. where do you want to go?”
you let your gaze waver, wandering down his chin to his neck where he visibly swallowed. did you make him nervous?
“just somewhere private,” you said.
you wet your lips when he looked at you again, your eyes trailing from his neck to his face. your hands were itching to reach across and touch him, but they settled on fidgeting in your lap. when you looked out the windshield again, you saw your yellow front door pass by as rafe continued to drive. you took a deep breath in.
after a couple turns and the road turning into more sand, rafe pulled to a dead end in front of the marsh. the engine cut off with a turn of the ignition key and fizzled out to let the lapping water fill the car. you kept your eyes on the small bay ahead, spotting a dragonfly whizzing by over the water. letting the marsh sounds fill your ears, it seemed to calm your nerves.
you nervously glanced at rafe in the quiet cab of the truck. you wondered what was going through his head. he turned his eyes to you, letting them linger around your face. you swallowed.
giving a mental swift kick to your own rear, you looked over your shoulder into the back seat and unbuckled yourself. you slipped the strap of your bag off your shoulder and left it in the seat as you twisted and crawled over the console. rafe watched you, a dumbfounded smile making its way onto his lips.
you laughed when you saw it. “come on,” you patted to the seat beside you and scooted to the right so he’d have enough room.
rafe looked gigantic when he turned in his seat, bumping into the wheel and nearly pushing on the horn. you grinned as you watched him, the simple journey into the backseat seeming so wild. it felt like you were somewhere you shouldn’t be with someone your parents had warned you about. your parents loved rafe actually.
his knee bumped into yours once he was settled and situated. the space was too small for the two of you but you liked feeling his skin against yours. it also felt much more private than the open windows in the front.
looking over at rafe, you let your hand fall easily to his knee. he shifted his top half and closed most of the space between you, bringing an arm to rest atop the seat behind you. you breathed softly, trying not to show how fast your heart had started to thrum.
your eyes flicked down to rafe’s lips and you thought about how you didn’t know what they felt like.
“what are you thinking?” you asked as you licked your own lips.
rafe reached a hand up to your cheek, finally touching you and nearly drawing a moan from your throat as you leaned into his touch. when had you become so touch-starved? well, you could probably answer that.
“how badly i want to kiss you right now.”
you let out a breath as he looked down at your open and ready mouth. you both leaned in and finally kissed, rafe’s lips capturing yours and yours capturing his. your hand moved to his neck. his fingers on your cheek traveled into your hair again. you didn’t mean to make a noise but come on! you loved feeling his fingers in your hair.
“how i have you in my truck, in my backseat.” he pulled away to say, in a near whisper, then kissed you again. he licked into your mouth and it was difficult to find the words to portray just how amazing it felt. needless to say, your underwear was going to be soaked any second now.
you opened for him and moved closer to eliminate any space between you. he parted from your lips to travel downward. you leaned your head back, happily giving him the access he craved. your breath was coming out heavier now, but you didn’t have that panic of losing your breath like drowning. it was a good situation to lose your breath.
“how it’s been two days and i haven’t stopped thinking about the other night.” he admitted into the thin skin under your jaw. he switched hands, one holding your head in place and the other skimming over your chest. he nipped at your flesh.
“rafe,” you moaned and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.
“what do you want?” he asked, his hot breath blowing across your cheeks. you peeked your eyes open and saw tiny flakes of brown in his eyes. his hand traveled further until it landed on your thigh, squeezing and triggering the sweetest of shivers.
“i want your mouth on me.”
pressing a kiss to your lips, rafe pulled away again to look over your face. “are you sure?”
you nodded and let go of his shirt to touch his cheek. you just wanted to feel his mouth everywhere on you.
“please,” you said. you shuffled away from him reluctantly so you could situate yourself on the seat. your head and shoulders rested against the back door and you brought your legs up over his lap, already having slipped your shoes off. he watched you intriguingly. your stomach sank a little, hoping he wasn’t going to turn you down.
when his hands reached toward your bottoms, you couldn’t help the smile that took over your face. he undid the button and tugged them down. lifting your legs so you could open them for him, he leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss to the inside of your knee. his fingers traced your calf as he shuffled and bent down as awkwardly as possible in the cramped space. you felt bad for a moment until you saw the way he looked up at you. he wanted this just as much as you did.
keeping eye contact with you as he placed his mouth right over your pubic bone, you moaned faintly. it was so delicate and soft that you didn’t expect it to feel that way. he caressed your calf as he pressed another kiss over your underwear, moving lower and lower to where you had soaked them through. your face went a little red, anticipating his reaction to it.
he looked godly as he stared up the expanse of your torso and to your eyes, all the while his lips pressed against your clothed entrance. his groan at the state of your underwear sent ripples out from the exact spot he kissed, like the vibrations of him sent shockwaves through you.
“you’re soaked,” he breathed against you and had you wanting to close your legs. instead, you slipped from his grasp and took your underwear off.
pressing your left leg into the back of the seat, you opened for rafe again. he looked down at you in front of him and licked his lips hungrily.
“god, you’re fucking pretty.”
you bit your lip at the way he looked at you, like he wanted to go to town. you were all for it really, but with the way he’d been touching you so far you had a feeling he’d be super gentle.
taking your leg and guiding it over his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to your thigh. then he finally tasted you with a savoring lick between your folds. it felt so good that he even hummed against you. you moaned in return and slipped your eyes closed. you needed something to hold on to. searching for the seat, you reached up to that tiny metal pole of the headrest and curled your fingers around it. it was cool and grounded you to where you were.
rafe licked another stripe, making a delicious noise with his tongue. you were sure if you weren’t so aroused that you’d gag at the sound.
one of his hands moved to your hip now, his skin rough and warm against yours. a gasp left your lips as you flinched without much thought, your leg over his shoulder tightening. they were all caused by rafe’s tongue brushing over your clit, something you hadn’t expected yet. you surely welcomed it when he did it again after feeling your reaction. he did it softly the second time around and you felt him shift below you before one of his fingers appeared at your entrance.
“fuck,” you whispered mostly to yourself. rafe pulled away a second later and you gasped as his finger coated in your arousal before pushing into you at the same time he reconnected with your clit.
you moaned lowly from the back of your throat. “rafe, that feels so good.”
he spent a few seconds sucking on you until he disappeared again. “look at me,” he said with a squeeze to your hip. his finger continued to move.
you breathed through your mouth as you opened your eyes and looked down at him. his seemed a smidge darker, but he held a sweet and fascinated smile on his lips.
“do you want another?”
“y-yes, please.”
you reached down and grabbed ahold of his wrist on your hip. your fingers tightened around the headrest at the same time. rafe pushed in another and returned to your clit, his tongue moving. you moaned as you watched him, wondering why you had even closed your eyes in the first place. he looked heavenly between your legs, and it felt even better.
pulling his fingers out, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean. “fuck, you taste so good, baby.”
you whimpered the next moment when he wrapped his hand around your thigh and licked up your folds. both of your hands let go to attach to his hair, your fingers spreading and pulling.
rafe’s mouth worked over you a bit quicker this time and you could tell he was losing himself in it, but you were enjoying it. it was startling when his tongue dipped into you and he pulled away only to spit, but it blew your mind. he licked widely up to your clit then, mixing everything in to one as he closed his mouth over the sensitive mound.
“oh my god.”
you felt your muscles tightening in your abdomen and the familiar feeling of wanting to move, of wanting to release. your feet tensed, a white-hot fervor starting in your toes.
“fuck, rafe, i’m going to come.” you gasped. “make me come, please, please.”
rafe obliged, his tongue flicking over you and causing your muscles to tighten even more. your eyes pricked with tears; your legs tightened on either side of him. he held them open and you wanted to curse him out for not letting you close them, to trap him in place and never have him stop.
your hips lifted off the seat, bucking against his face as you grew closer. you thought you were ripping his hair out when you came undone, moaning loudly out into the truck, to the marsh. seconds later, your grip loosened on his scalp as he licked you clean, catching everything on his tongue.
pressing a kiss to your thigh, rafe pulled away slowly and sat up. you lay there for a moment, collecting yourself and catching your breath. the muscles in your legs felt like they liquified, but you could feel them harden again to help you move. the fire in your toes died out, a pulse still existent from your release. 
“thank you.” you said to rafe as you sat up and pulled your underwear back on tiredly. you looked over to find him watching you with a soft smile and a subtle dent in his shorts. “can i do something for you?” you asked, nodding toward his lap.
rafe glanced down then shook his head at you. “no, that’s okay. i liked just tasting you.”
he didn’t say anything else as he brushed your hair over your shoulder and pressed a kiss there. his hand ran down your back. you grinned at your lap, holding your shorts and wondering where to go from there. rafe’s hand felt nice, his thumb rubbing gently. when you looked over at him, he leaned in and kissed you slowly. his hand moved up to the back of your neck while one of yours reached to touch his jaw.
“i should get home,” you said when you broke apart. you found those brown specks again and wanted nothing more than to analyze them further, but if you didn’t show your face at home soon, your phone would be interjecting in your time with rafe.
he nodded in understanding and moved apart from you so you could pull your shorts back on. “when can i see you again?” 
it was such a stupid thing to make your heart leap in your chest. it even made your body flush as if it already wasn’t.
you grinned at him. “you have my number.”
he nodded again and moved in for another kiss. you reciprocated and gave it your all, hoping that if he hadn’t already decided, that he’d call you or text you tonight. it was thrilling to think about the next time you’d see him.
⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️
@tovvaa​ @fttayla @dontjinx-it @moniamaybank @drewstarkeygf @cheshirecat107​ @jjmaybankzz​ @obxcunt @honeyyhemmings @dvakat @macey730 @twinklelilstarkey @disrecpectful @prettylilwolf-blog @jjcanloveme @ityagirljay @igotmajordaddyissues​
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waywardfangirl · 3 years
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For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤
A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers
Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon
"Die Hard? Really?"
I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.
"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.
Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.
"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"
(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)
I scoff.
"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."
He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)
"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.
He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.
"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."
He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.
"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."
Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.
Baz
A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)
This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.
Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.
For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.
I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.
He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)
Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.
"That's really not your shade."
"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.
"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."
He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.
"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"
"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."
He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)
"You think I should wear this?"
"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.
"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.
"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.
"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."
"Are you in love with her?"
"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.
"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."
He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.
"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.
I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.
"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"
He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.
"This is her."
His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.
"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.
He shakes his head.
"No, this is brilliant, thanks."
He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.
I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.
"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."
He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.
It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.
Simon
One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.
Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)
He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.
Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.
"D'ya need help?"
He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.
"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."
He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.
“You want that one.”
“Why? How do you know?”
“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”
He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).
“How do you know that?”
I laugh.
“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”
I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.
“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”
He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.
He looks really good in eyeliner.
Baz
When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.
“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”
“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”
“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”
“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”
Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.
“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“And you want me to talk to a cat?”
Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)
So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.
The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.
I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)
I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.
“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”
The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.
I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.
“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)
“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”
“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.
“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.
“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”
For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.
We both laugh, and the ice is broken.
“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.
“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”
“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.
“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”
“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”
“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.
“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”
“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.
As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.
“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”
“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”
He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”
Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.
Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow
Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.
Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you
Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)
I blush, and send him a reply.
Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.
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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years
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Baby’s First Christmas–Zac Efron
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"Zac, honey, where's. . . "
I sighed when my husband turned around with our six-month-old daughter in his arms.
"She's supposed to be asleep," I chuckled as I walked over to them.
"She wanted to see the tree," he said nodding towards the tree we just finished decorating.
I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist. I smiled as he started humming White Christmas. I looked over at Lucy and chuckled as her eyes started to get drowsy.
"She really should be in bed, babe," I whispered. "It's late."
"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "When you're older, remember this night, Luc. Mommy sent you to bed, not Daddy."
"Gee thanks," I joked.
I kissed our daughter's head before Zac carried her to the nursery. I smiled and watched as Zac gently put Lucy in her crib. Instead of leaving, he looked down at her and watched as she fell asleep.
I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "You okay?" I whispered.
"This is going to be a great Christmas."
                       * * * * *
I held Lucy as Zac hung the lights outside. All week, Zac has been running around like crazy trying to get ready for the holiday. I bit my lip as he started to climb higher on the ladder.
"Honey," I said subconsciously tightening my arms around Lucy. "Please be careful. Maybe. . . Maybe we should wait for your brother."
"He's late," Zac said as he struggled to find the hook. "And we need to get this done before we go to the Christmas Tree Farm and pick out another tree."
"Another tree? We already. . . We already have a tree."
"I wanted to put a tree in Lucy's room," he said.
"In Lucy's room? Zac. . . Honey, please come down."
I gasped as Zac almost fell off the ladder. I held my breath as he caught himself and carefully climbed down the ladder. He looked up at me and walked over, taking Lucy from me.
"You okay?" He asked as he bounced Lucy.
"Why did you. . . We could've. . " I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair. "Zac, honey, you could've fallen off that ladder. And then what? We spend Christmas in the ER?"
"I'm sorry."
"You have to be careful," I started rambling. "I need you, Zac. We need you. It isn't just you and me anymore. We have a daughter. She needs you to be careful."
Zac walked over and wrapped an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss to my lips. We laughed and broke the kiss as Lucy pushed us apart.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I'm sorry too," I sighed. "I just got scared for a second."
"It's okay," he chuckled. "I love you."
"I love you too."
                       * * * * *
Lucy was in her booster seat playing with some dough while Zac and I made Christmas sugar cookies. I looked over and laughed as I saw Zac covered in flour, struggling to roll out the dough.
"This won't stop sticking to the stupid rolling pin," Zac said angrily between grunts.
"Here," I chuckled as I grabbed his pin and rubbed some flour on it. "Now try it."
Zac smirked when he rolled the pin over the dough without it sticking. "Thanks," he chuckled. "I'm an idiot."
"That's okay," I giggled. "You're my idiot."
We spent the next little bit rolling out cookies and placing them in the oven. As they cooked, we watched Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer.
"Damn it!"
I put Lucy down in her playpen and walked into the kitchen. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"They're burnt," he said, his jaw clenched as he placed the pan of burnt cookies on the counter.
"Okay," I shrugged. "Babe, we have like two dozen more that we haven't even cooked yet."
I watched as he threw the oven mitt on the counter and angrily ran his fingers through his hair.
"Zac, are you okay?"
"I can't believe I burned the cookies," he said under his breath. I walked over and wrapped my arms around his neck. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. When we broke apart, I lowered back down onto my toes.
"They are just cookies," I whispered. "We have two dozen more."
"You wouldn't have burned them," he mumbled. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed his chin and made him look back at me.
"They are just cookies," I repeated. "Let me hear you say it."
Zac sighed as he sent me a playful glare before sighing. "They are just cookies," he said slowly.
I opened my mouth to say something but stopped when Lucy started to cry.
"Sounds like it's time for her nap," I giggled. I pressed another kiss to his cheek before leaving to get her.
I stopped in the doorway and noticed Zac still fixated on the burnt cookies. My heart sank when I saw how upset he was. I was about to say something when Lucy cried again.
After laying her down, I walked back into the other room. I hesitated when I saw Zac flipping through one of Lucy's Christmas books. He looked over his shoulder when he heard me walk in.
"Is she asleep?" He asked, the disappointment in his voice.
"She is," I said as I walked over and leaned over the couch, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed his cheek, my lips lingering.
"What's going on, babe?" I whispered. "You've been oddly intense this entire holiday."
"I just," he sighed. I walked around the couch and sat next to him. I reached up and started running my fingers through his hair.
"Talk to me," I gently encouraged.
"I wanted Lu's first Christmas to be special, but everything I've tried to do has failed."
"Zac," I sighed. "Babe, that is a lot of pressure to put on yourself. Her first Christmas doesn't need to be perfect. She's six-months-old. Odds are, Lucy won't remember a Christmas until she's at least a few years old. Let's just focus on spending Christmas together as a family."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I was talking to Seth and he kept saying how hard it was to be a husband, a father, and an actor. I guess. . . I guess it started to get to me. I was away more than half your pregnancy, Y/N. You had to do a lot of the shopping alone. You had to get the nursery ready on your own. You had to do almost everything without me. All because of my job. And I didn't want you to feel like a single mom because you're not."
"I know that," I smiled. "I also know that you'll always be there for me and Lucy. And any other kids we have."
"I almost missed Lucy's birth because my flight was delayed," he said, grabbing my hand that wasn't playing with his hair and intertwining our fingers.
"But you made it," I said clearly. "Honey, I have never felt like a single mother. You bought some baby things online when you were in Germany and had them sent here. You forced your brother to come help me set up the crib when you were in London. Your mom planned and hosted an entire baby shower for me. You got to the hospital right when I needed you. You even volunteered to quit acting all-together when I first got pregnant."
"I just. . ." He stuttered.
"No," I gently cut him off. "Zac, you have always been there when I needed you. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I married you. Hell, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I'm going to say it again; you have always been and will always be here when I need you. That is all I care about."
I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. I giggled as he instantly deepened the kiss by pulling me onto his lap. Before things could get too heated, Zac broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.
"I promise," he whispered, "if you ever need me, I will hop on a plane, a bus, a boat, a train, rent a car and drive, whatever it takes to get to you. I will always be there when you need me."
"And that is why I love you," I chuckled.
"I love you too," he smirked as he pressed his lips to mine. Before we could get too carried away, I broke the kiss.
"Zac," I said gently, "can we please focus on having a good Christmas instead of the perfect Christmas?"
He sighed as he tightened his arms around my waist. "Okay," he gave in. "I will change my focus from having the perfect Christmas to having a fun Christmas with my wife and daughter."
"Good," I giggled as I tightened my arms around him.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," I whispered when our lips were inches apart. I closed the gap between us and we instantly started moving our lips in sync.
"Babe?" I mumbled against his lips.
"Yes?" He chuckled.
"We still have two dozen cookies."
"Oh yeah," he said slowly breaking the kiss. "We should probably get them cooked and decorated before Lucy wakes up."
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general-mahamatra · 3 years
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This is very specific but do you have any headcanons about double dates between Jeanbilee and Silvercyclops? That or how do you headcanon Charles and Erik’s sexualities? I think of Erik as pan and Charles as gay.
Hehe... Oh I can do this. 
For Charles and Erik’s sexualities, I definitely agree. Charles is gay and Erik is either bi or pan (that one I’m not too solid on).
With the double date, catch me putting this in a modern setting. It’s under the line since there’s a lot
Individuals
Scott
Scott was definitely against the idea of a double date
Why? Because it’s kind of awkward to go out on a double date where the other couple... one of them is your ex
Yeah he’s still good friends with Jean! He’s just not sure how to handle going out to an event with her in a sort of romantic setting. Especially because there’s that slight problem that you KNOW he’s kinda anxious. Like what if people who knew him when he was dating Jean finds him all close and romantic with Peter?
Of course that’s not gonna happen. Man’s just anxious
But Peter managed to convince him and assure him that it would be alright
“It’s just a movie, Scotty. No one’s gonna care,” Peter had said. “Literally it’s dark and the seats are set up in pairs, you don’t need to worry.”
Scott protested immediately with, “but what if--”
“I’ll pay for the popcorn and treats. And the drinks. I’ll pay for it all for you.” 
Scott caved pretty quickly
Except he didn’t know that before the movie the group was going out to dinner because for some reason his mind completely omitted that information. By the time they got together, he remembered, but oh man. He was not prepared
Yeah he was dressed up because Peter was really insistent on him wearing something decent, but the fact they were going out to dinner skipped his mind entirely
He was antsy during the dinner at first. Really shifty-eyed and such and was overall just visibly nervous
But he cooled down fast
He had a lot of fun at the dinner, even if he was a bit awkward with Jean at first
But he loosened up. He found himself enjoying the event much more as time went on and he even managed to calm down enough to comfortably interact with Jean just like he used to
It was actually kinda refreshing
He had whole conversations with the ginger. While Jubilee and Peter were going off about their crazy ideas and plans and things that have happened to them over the past weeks, Scott and Jean were just talking about... life. Catching up on what they’ve missed since they split apart and inevitably pulled away from each other (Scott moreso than Jean)
It brought a sense of closure to Scott that he didn’t realize he needed
He found himself warming back up to interacting with Jean and was... happy with it
Peter
Oh Peter was excited for the double date
Ever since Jubilee ran up to him and proposed it to him he was completely on board. Hell, he even helped plan it out with Jean and Jubilee at times
It was actually Jean’s idea for Peter to convince Scott that things would be alright. She knew he was worried about it, even if it was all irrational. She also knew that he was their best bet on helping Scott out and getting him comfortable with the idea
So Peter did just that
He actually did a lot more than just blatantly tell Scott that he was going to pay for everything at the movies
Peter did a lot of minimal prodding. Stuff to get Scott to talk in a way that wasn’t too intrusive or anything (it’s honestly a special ability of Peter’s). It helped him understand what he was gonna have to do to help his boyfriend out
Because Scott had never been on a double date before
And Peter actually found that kinda funny
But when it came to the date itself, he was completely down for it. He wanted to do it since the moment Jubilee told him about it and he decided he was going to put about as much planning effort into it as her. After all, it’s not different from other... events they’ve planned in the past. They have a perfect system
The movie was his idea
He deemed it “necessary after eating at some dumb fancy place. Because who in their right mind is gonna go out to eat and then just head home at like, 7pm?”
(Peter was also the reason they didn’t end up going to a restaurant where you had to dress up SUPER fancy)
(Granted he wasn’t entirely successful. Jean shot him down and made him settle with having to dress up a little. She wasn’t going to drive them all to dinner if it was gonna be some fast food shit)
Honestly, him and Jubilee are on the exact same wavelength for the date
Jean
Jean was definitely the TRUE brains behind the double date
She was the one who mentioned the idea to Jubilee who then took the idea and ran with it, making it a true plan
She did it because, well, she’s always wanted to have a double date. It was only possible now that she was with Jubilee and her other friends were together
Besides, she like anyone else was aware of just how close Jubilee and Peter were. It was honestly a perfect plan
Scratch something off her bucket list while also getting the two away from their peers so everyone could actually catch a break from their high energy
Actual perfection right there
That and she could tell Scott was awkward around her, even if they’ve been broken up for almost an entire year by this point
There were a lot of times Jean tried to reconnect with him and get him to loosen up but nothing really worked until she came up with the double date
It would give her the opportunity to get her friend back while also allowing him to be in a sort of comfortable environment (she’s noticed the way he tends to cling to Peter whenever she comes around. She isn’t sure if she should be hurt by it or not but she knows he doesn’t mean ill will)
She has to admit though, Peter’s idea of a movie after was a great idea. It’s not something she would’ve put forward or even thought about
Then again... she wasn’t expecting the duo to take over the planning and make it a lot more “light” than an actual “true” date
Jean was looking to reserve them stuff out at a true fancy restaurant. Maybe get them to all dress up and put them in a romantic setting but she was quickly put in her place by Jubilee and Peter’s insistence that it’s a double date, they don’t need to be in a super romantic area
And honestly, they had a point
But she refused to let them make the event completely casual. If she was going to be involved in any planning, they were gonna go somewhere where they have to dress up at least a little
She won that argument easily
Jubilee
OH MAN 
Okay yeah Jubilee was definitely the front runner with the planning and setting everything up
Even with the double date originally being Jean’s idea, Jubilee took it upon herself to plan it all out mostly because she wanted to treat her girlfriend
(You act as thought Jubilee doesn’t know her own partner’s bucket list. Jean literally has it written out in a notebook under her pillow, Jubilee has gone through it multiple times)
She wanted it to be perfect
Which is why she went to Peter
Jean was the one who planted the idea of going on the double date with Scott and Peter but let’s be real, Jubilee would’ve chosen the boys anyways. They were the best bet
Either way, she was ecstatic
She literally has so much experience with planning from the pranks and events she’s set up with Peter, she knew exactly what she was doing when she got with him to plan everything out
Jubilee was actually the one who chose where they were going to dinner
It was a nice Hawaiian themed place. A seafood restaurant with a tropical theme and generally considered a 4 or 5 star restaurant. It was a perfect place, especially with its looser “dress code” (it was basically a sort of business casual, for lack of better terms. If she tried to describe it she would just point to Scott wearing a nice button up with no tie and Jean wearing a cute blouse and flowy pants to match)
(The really funny part is her and Jean low-key made it out to Peter like super fancy restaurants require you to wear formal clothes just so he would cave and “go somewhere less strict”)
(He never found out)
But if she was going to be honest, her favorite part of the double date was the movie afterwards
It was the newest Men in Black and she was losing her mind throughout it
Did she tune out the boys while they were nerding out quietly to her right? Yes, yes she did. She was much more focused on the humor and action and experiencing it with her girlfriend
Overall
Not gonna lie, Scott definitely clung to Peter at first
Like that much is obvious, but it really wasn’t that... obvious? It was if you looked closely at how he hovered closer to the older boy or how his head always seemed to be turned slightly towards him during conversations as if looking to him for stuff to say
Peter noticed it for sure, just as Jean did
Both of them let it happen. Because even when Scott loosened up as the night went on, he still wanted to stick close to his comfort and they didn’t want to pull him away from that
Man just doesn’t handle break ups well
Honestly though, the dinner was wonderful for the entire group. There was so much laughter and chatting and catching up, especially since they aren’t consistently hanging out together anymore
Jubilee convinced Scott to try some really spicy squid dish that he couldn’t remember the name of for the life of him and Peter just... kept ordering more chocolate milk
(They quickly learned that he forgot refills aren’t free)
(That didn’t stop him)
Outfits
Scott: Nice blue button up and black slacks. Honestly really basic typical “oh that guy looks cishet” kinda look, especially with the very plain uniform look to him
Peter: Black button up with white specks across it that look like stars and some slacks as well except his belt was a bit more... decorative than Scott’s. (It’s colorful)
Jean: A cute, loose blouse with a nice white and red floral/watercolor sort of pattern that sits nicely on her frame with some flowy pants and flats. Her hair was done into a braid
Jubilee: A nice long sleeve sweater-like yellow top and a short white skirt with a pair of flats as well. She had her hair down and man was it nice and curly
Honestly everyone was dressed so nicely, it was almost a miracle
During the movie, the couples sat together. That’s a given. But the way they interacted was definitely different from each other
Jean and Jubilee were vibing in their seats. They had chocolate and slushies and popcorn and were overall having a great time just enjoying the movie. There wasn’t too much commentary other than them laughing together or making fun of something they saw on screen
(Jean one time did yell at someone for having their phone on in the movie...she’s that person)
Jubilee was constantly touchy with Jean whenever something crazy happened or there was something intense. Hell, she ended up wrapping around Jean and crying when her favorite character died
Jean took it and honestly... it made her soft
She didn’t know it was possible to fall even further in love
Peter and Scott, though, were different. They too had all the treats and candy and such like the other couple but they were much closer than the girls. They were BASICALLY cuddling (Scott will never admit it). Like come on, you know it’s true
Scott was curled up against his boyfriend. Like head resting against Peter as the older had his arm around him. You know the drill
Again, Scott will never admit to it
But the entire time they were geeking out. Both of them grew up with sci-fi, especially MiB. And BOTH were excited for the newest movie and were having a great time pointing out the aliens and all that stuff and just overall having fun
After the date, the drive was both full of energy and calm. It was 10 by the time they were leaving the theatre and honestly... it’s an experience none of them would give up for the world
...they planned another one for the future
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Bodyguard CH10
A/N: No, your eyes do not deceive you. This is in fact a new chapter. I'm sorry about not updating in what feels like 87 years. I found my way down the Edser rabbit hole and can't find my way back out. I hope you like this chapter.
Felicity looked up as she heard voices and saw Oliver and Digg talking in front of her door.
Her chest tightened at the sight of Oliver.
Over the past few days, she had tried distancing herself from Oliver once she realized her feelings for him were anything but platonic or professional and were growing stronger by the day.
However, it was harder to do than she anticipated. Especially when she was living with him, temporarily, and spent all her time with him.
Still, she did her best to create a distance between them. She made sure whenever they were at the shelter that they were never alone, and when they were at his place, she was careful to not spend any time with him with just the two of them that wasn’t necessary.
She refused group dinners and drinks, she ate breakfast on the go and she kept their talks short and strictly business.
Oliver was persistent of course but she more than held her ground and stuck to her conviction of shutting him out as much as possible.
She knew Oliver didn’t understand why she was pushing him away but she had to do whatever it took to protect herself and right now every survival instinct was telling her she needed to protect every part of herself especially her heart.
Fear was a monster. It was ugly and it was consuming. It crept beneath your skin, shook you to your core, and made you question everything, every decision you make, everyone around you.
It whispered doubts in your head.
Felicity feared the connection between Oliver and herself. It felt stronger every single day he was at her side.
It terrified her.
She was scared that the connection between them would grow strong enough for him to completely break her and she couldn’t shatter again.
It took her forever to pick up the pieces of herself that Cooper had broken.
And even then she was never able to fit her pieces back together perfectly.
Felicity, she was Fractured. Scarred. Damaged.
Oliver deserved better than what she could offer him.
He just hasn’t realized it yet but he will. She was saving them from pain in the long run.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Oliver clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly, looking toward the door impatiently, sitting on a hospital bed.
He had spent half the day trying and failing to figure out why Felicity was suddenly shutting him out and the other half in the gym, training while John took over being Felicity’s full-time guard. Pair her orders.
Had he offended her in some way? Did his concern for her come across as too overbearing?
God, it bothered him that she was pulling away from him. It was like a sledgehammer was slammed into his chest and the feeling wouldn’t go away.
It was awkward as hell when they returned to his home. Felicity barely spoke a full sentence to him or stayed in a room alone with him for more than five minutes.
If he didn’t know better he would think she was afraid of him but that was crazy.
He would never hurt her. She had to know that, right?
His thoughts were going to drive him crazy.
The door to the room opened and in walked Tommy Merlyn. “When I saw your name in my folder, I thought I was seeing things. You hate hospitals.” Tommy looked his friend over. “You don’t look like you require emergency medical treatment.”
Oliver lifted his hands. “They might be broken.”
Oliver fought to keep a straight face. He knew his hands weren’t broken but he wanted an excuse to come to see his friend when he knew Tommy was busy working in the emergency room in the hospital.
Tommy sent him a doubtful look, setting his clipboard down, he pulled on a pair of gloves and reached for Oliver’s hands inspecting them.
“You have some abrasions, and your hands are pretty banged up but they’re not broken.” Tommy started cleaning the blood from his knuckles and applying a healing and disinfectant ointment. “You want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”
“I needed to talk to someone. I need an outsider’s perspective.” Oliver told him.
“And this couldn’t wait till my shift ended?” Tommy inquired, wrapping Oliver’s hands up.
“It could have but I can’t promise I wouldn’t have gone at least a little bit insane from not talking to someone,” Oliver responded.
“Okay,” Tommy laughed. “If you’re that desperate to talk to someone I can spare a little time. What’s on your mind, Ollie?”
“I’ve been working this new job.” Oliver started.
“The bodyguard job for some client or another.” Tommy supplied.
“Right, “ said Oliver. “Anyway, I met this woman and she’s amazing, she’s beautiful, kind, smart and her strength astounds me and it’s complicated, cause she’s the client,”
“Wait, you’re sleeping with your boss?” Tommy said surprised. Oliver had always taken his job seriously and didn’t like to mix his personal life with his business life.
“No, it’s not like that.” Oliver protested. “We’ve never-”
“But you want to?” Tommy interjected.
Of course, Oliver wanted to. He had to be blind and idiot not to but what he felt for Felicity was more than an attraction. He had feelings for her.
And it was so real for him. Maybe the realist thing he’s ever felt for a woman.
The problem was he didn’t know how Felicity felt about him. He knew she was attracted to him but was that all it was for her? He hoped not.
“I like her a lot.” Oliver finally answered.
“If you don’t care that’s she your boss then what’s the problem?” Tommy inquired.
“I think...I think she might be afraid of me.” Oliver hated having to say the words. He hated thinking it but lately, he felt like Felicity was shutting him out to protect herself. From him.
The notion was a jagged blade twisting in his chest, carving him from the inside. ‘
“Afraid of you?” Tommy repeated incredulously. “You would never hurt a woman.”
“I know that but I’m not sure she does,” Oliver confessed. “She’s been hurt before her.”
“Oh,” Tommy said.
“Oh?” Oliver repeated. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Like there’s more meaning behind that one little word.” Oliver insisted.
“When you say hurt, do you mean physically or emotionally?” Tommy questioned.
“Both,” Oliver said after a moment.
“Then I can see why she’s not open to growing closer with you.” At Oliver’s continued look of confusion, Tommy elaborated. “Women with a history of an abusive relationship have a harder time letting any man close again because the last time they did they didn’t just have their heart broken. In most cases, the woman was hurt, emotionally, physically, and mentally. The physical wounds? Those heal if they’re lucky enough to get out but what stays with them the most are the mental wounds.”
“How do you know so much about this?” Oliver questioned in surprise.
“I’ve seen more than a few women come in here after being tossed around by someone they love since working in the ER for the last two years,” Tommy said. “Your girl, Felicity, if she’s purposely creating a distance between you, pushing you away then it is more than like self-preservation on her part. She’s doing whatever she can to protect herself and being alone is probably the only way she knows how to protect her heart.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Oliver asked.
“First, it’s important, you don’t push her,” Tommy advised. “Second, have a frank discussion about your feelings but you have to take her feelings into account, too. Tell her what’s on your mind, find out if she’s scared of you or of getting hurt, try and reassure as much as you can that you would never push her and finally, let her make the first move.”
Oliver nodded. “Okay,” Oliver grabbed up his coat, pulling it on. “Tommy, do you still get women coming in here recently who have been abused.”
“All the time,” Tommy admitted sadly.
Oliver pulled out his wallet and pulled out the business card for the shelter. “Give this to any of the abused women that come in here. It’s a place that can help them. They’ll be protected. Give them a chance at something better.”
Tommy accepted the card. “Do I want to know?”
Oliver patted his friend on the chest. “Thanks for the advice, Tommy.”
“Anytime, now get out of here. I have real emergencies to tend to.” Tommy walked out of the room, calling over his shoulder that a nurse would be in shortly with his discharge papers.
Oliver decided he wasn’t going to wait around for that and walked on out. He had a strategy forming in his mind, now he needed to get a plan together and make it happen.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Felicity was surprised when Oliver called asking for the rest of the night off but she allowed calling in one of the recruits to fill in for him.
She wasn’t sure what he was doing but it wasn’t her business what he did with his free time or what he considered important to take time off work for. It didn’t stop her from being curious about it, though.
She didn’t even know if he would be home when Digg drove her back to the apartment at the end of the day.
She said goodnight to Digg who walked her to Oliver’s door and didn’t leave till Felicity was safely inside using the key Oliver had given her.
Felicity shut the door and locked it behind her. Oliver didn’t have one of those state of art security systems which she knew because he believed he was his own security system. Who better to defend his home than himself.
“Oliver?” Felicity called out, walking into his living room. She tossed her bag on the couch took off her coat, throwing it over the back of the couch. She held onto the back as she toed off her shoes.
The smell of food filled the apartment, a delicious aroma that made her stomach grumble with hunger.
“In the kitchen,” Oliver called out.
Felicity walked into the kitchen to find the counter, set nicely for dinner as Oliver set a pan he pulled from the oven in the center, followed by a pan of bread.
“Did you make us dinner?” Felicity asked in surprise.
“I did,” Oliver smiled at her. “And I got you this,” Oliver turned and pulled out a bottle of wine from a container of ice. “Red is your favorite, right?”
“It is.” Felicity felt a flutter in her stomach, a light feeling spreading across her chest. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”
“I wanted to,” Oliver said, voice soft. “Sit please, everything is almost done.”
Felicity took the seat and watch him move around the kitchen a quiet smile on her lips, momentarily forgetting that she was doing her best to avoid him.
Sometimes the pull to him was just too strong to resist. Like right now.
He was always so at home in the kitchen. There was always this weight he carried on his shoulders, this alertness about him like he was prepared to be attacked at any moment, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing since it was his job to be ready to fend off an attack but it made Felicity want to pull him in her arms and tell him it was okay to let his guard down sometimes.
That need to assure him everything was fine always left a flash of fear behind. She shouldn’t feel this away about him.
Watching him now, it was like all of that weighed him down and kept alert fell away and she got to see Oliver the man and not Oliver Queen the bodyguard.
“How everything go today? Any new problems?” Oliver asked as he set the table with their filled plates.
“No new problems,” Felicity answered as he poured them some whine. “What did you do today?”
“Let off some steam, visited my friend Tommy, I believe I’ve mentioned him a few times.” Oliver took the seat across from her.
“You did,” Felicity confirmed, she lifted the glass of wine to her lips, tasting the liquid on her tongue, she hummed quietly to herself. “He’s a doctor right?”
Oliver nodded, taking a bite of the bread he made. “He is. Works in the ED.”
“This is the same Tommy from Thea’s stories?” Felicity asked. “Because I gotta say I was still expecting to be more of a wild card.”
“He’s both.” Oliver gave a small laugh. “He’s serious when he needs to be but he lets out that other side of himself after a few drinks but he’s a good man.”
“Much mike yourself,” Felicity said, taking a bite of her food.
Something warmed in Oliver’s chest that Felicity believed him to be a good man. That had to help his case in the larger scheme of things. He opens his mouth to reply but snapped it shut, listening as a sound of pleasure escape Felicity’s lips.
Her eyes were closed as if she was savoring the taste and there was a flush to her cheeks that wasn’t there before, her tongue darted to chase the taste on her lips.
He tightened his hand on his fork as desire shot through him, wanting to hear the sounds she was making, the look of pleasure on her face for a different reason, involving him, and absolutely zero clothing.
Felicity’s eyes fluttered open slow. “Wow, that is really good. I know I said before I really didn’t expect you to be such a good cook. It’s like dining at a five-star restaurant.”
Oliver laughed. He knew his cooking was good but it wasn’t that good. “You don’t have to flatter me, Felicity.”
“This is not flattery, it is fact,” Felicity argued, pointing her fork at him warning him. “Don’t knock what I say. If I say it's the best meal I had in years then it is.”
Oliver held his hands up in surrender, a carefree smile pulling at his lips. “Got it, it’s utterly delicious.”
“Exactly,” Felicity took another bite, her eyes closing as she savored the food.
Oliver wasn’t sure if he was turned on by her utter enjoyment or amused that she was so vehement that it was as good as she thought.
Oliver spent most of the meal just gazing at Felicity, enjoying just being in her presence. Felicity excluded this light and he felt it cut through his darkness.
Felicity offered to clear the table and do the clean-up. Oliver was quick to tell her she didn’t have to, he would take care of it but Felicity insisted in the end they compromised and ended up, doing it together.
“So, I was thinking that tomorrow I was going to go out and look for something bigger for everyone to move to, I figured I take you and Digg with me. I could use both of your expertise because we want somewhere that’s fortified, somewhere that’s big, something that can give them home and not feel like they're being locked away for their safety.”
“We can have Slade looked after everyone while we’re out.” Oliver agreed as they washed dishes. “I think I might have an idea about where we can look. I need to make some calls first.”
Felicity place the last dish in the cabinet and dried her hands. “Really? That’s great. The sooner we find somewhere the better.”
“I agree,” Oliver said. “Now that we have business out of way, I was hoping we could talk.”
“Talk about what?” Felicity's brow furrowed.
“I know things have gotten a bit tense between us,” Oliver began, turning toward Felicity, he took her hand in his and stepped closer. “I know you think I’m being over-protective but that’s not it, it’s more than that. This job isn’t a job for me. I want to protect you, I want to help people. it’s who I am.”
“I know,” Felicity nodded, looking up at his earnest blue eyes. “Who you are is why I feel like I can trust you and trust isn’t easy for me. I trust you more than I thought was possible.”
But still, there were things she would never trust in a man again. It wasn’t Oliver's fault. It is what it is.
Oliver copper her cheek and his warmth soaked into her skin, making her feel at home. “Do you trust that you mean more to me than a job?”
Felicity’s heart skipped a beat in her chest. “Oliver,” she whispered. She didn’t think he would address this thing between them so head-on.
Oliver fell to the look in her eyes, the way she said his name. Like a prayer.
He closed the distance between and pressed his mouth to Felicity’s. He felt her tense, her body freezing up and he cursed himself.
He shouldn’t have done that.
But then suddenly, he felt Felicity’s lips pressing back against his.
He pulled back to look into her eyes, see her reaction.
Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.
“Felicity,” he whispered, voice low.
Felicity surged forward grasping his face in her hands and pulled his mouth back to hers.
Oliver groaned, he wrapped his arms around, pulling her flush against his front.
She was so small in his arms but so perfect, he licked at the seam of her lips. His tongue sweeping inside when she opened for him, tasting her mouth as her hands fisted his shirt and smooth up his arms, gripping his biceps.
He secured his hand across her waist and lifted her, sitting her on the counter.
He tilted her head back deepening their kiss, pulling her hair free from her ponytail and running his hands through her long strands.
Felicity’s hand moved over his back, hiking her legs up to wrap around his waist, pushing him closer.
Her hands dove into his hair, beneath slipping beneath his shirt. He didn’t care that her fingers trail across his skin. All he could think about was her skin pressed against his, her hands exploring her body.
He slipped one hand beneath her shirt, her skin was soft as he slid up her ribs, and gripped her pulling her forward and grounding his hips against her, desiring shooting through him.
Felicity gave a gasp and then she was placing her hand on his chest and pushing him back. “Stop, we can’t do this.”
Her words like ice on his skin. He stopped immediately, removing his hands from her body. “Felicity, I-”
“We can’t do this,” Felicity repeated, she pushed at him again and he took a step back giving her the space she wanted.
Felicity jumped down from the counter and ran her hand through her hair. “This can’t happen, Oliver. It’s important that we keep this professional.”
Oliver could see the way her hand shook, and how she avoided looking at him. Everything inside of him was telling him that she was scared. Scared of feeling something for someone? Scared of feeling something real. Scard to give her heart to someone again.
“I don’t think I can do that. It’s hard to be professional when you want to be with someone.” Oliver said, wanting Felicity to know how he felt. “I feel like we’ve been skirting around the attraction between us and I’m tired of pretending that I don’t have feelings for you.”
Felicity shook her head. “Oliver, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do. I know how I feel about you and no one can tell me what I feel. I think I know my own heart.”
“You don’t want me, Oliver,” Felicity felt tears gather in her eyes but she refused to cry. “I’m damaged. I won’t ever be good for you. You are amazing and can do so much better than someone who still has nightmares about a piece of shit ex.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Oliver said vehemently. “You're the most amazing woman I have ever known. You're beautiful and smart and resilient and have a strength inside of you that I have never known, Any man in the world would be lucky to have you. I want to be that man.”
“No, you don’t.” Felicity shook her head and took a step away from him.
Oliver wanted to pull her closer but it was clear by the way she wrapped her arms around herself she didn’t want to be touch in any way and he was going to respect that.
“I get it you’re scared, you’ve been heart in ways I can’t imagine, you were betrayed by someone you loved and nothing I say will change that but you don’t have to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. I would rather die than to ever see you hurt let alone be the cause of your pain. Please, don’t turn away from this because you're scared I’ll be like him. I could never be like him.”
Felicity’s heart clenched painfully. Oliver’s words while meant to be reassuring were the opposite. He was making very clear how deeply he cared for her and it only made this harder for her.
“I know you won’t hurt me.” Felicity's voice shook with the effort not to cry, to stay strong. “I know you’re not like Cooper but I can’t let you get close. I can’t care about you so much that I let you have power over me.”
If Cooper taught her anything it was love meant having power over someone and she couldn’t let that happen again no matter what she felt for Oliver.
“I can’t do it.” Felicity felt herself breaking inside and was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it together. “I won’t.”
Oliver shook his head. Love wasn’t having power over someone. It was giving yourself to someone, it was caring for someone, it was putting their wellbeing and happiness before your own. It was trusting them with all you have. Your heart, your body, your soul, everything that made you who you are.
“I don’t want to have power over you, Felicity,” Oliver said earnestly. He needed to be open with her but he also had to let her make the choice of what happened next. “I want to be your strength. I want to be the pillar that holds you up when you need some help. I want to be the person you turn to but more than anything I want to love you and I want you to let me.”
His words were so beautiful and God, Felicity wanted to let Oliver be all those things but she couldn’t. “I’m sorry but I can’t. I just can’t.” She could no longer keep her tears in as they slide down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
A/N: I hope you like the chapter. The next Olicity update will be I Can't Let Her Die.
Thank you to everyone still here, reading my fics even though I take forever to update.
Tags: @mariestark @memcjo
Sorry about the lack tags but I lost my tag list for this story and can't remember all who wanted to be tag for this. Feel free to remind me if you want to be tagged so I can create a new list accordingly.
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kaypeace21 · 4 years
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ignoring the fact that they sound like a married couple arguing, mike and will are also bickering over whether or not el and mike are still together. it was written in the script, rehearsed, performed, and kept in the final cut that will OUTRIGHT SAYS “she said she dumped your ass, that doesn’t sound like a break.” and max yells “it wasn’t!” :@;$:@/&$:&:??!?! they literally said they’re not endgame. they aren’t endgame.
i KNOW right! Based on the s4 movies I think things are reversed and it’s El who can’t accept they are broken up. A lot of films said to inspire s4 have ex gfs refuse to accept the break up -one even hits on her gay ex-bf ( ‘birdcage’ ). Similar scenario in ‘clueless’ with girl hinting on gay guy who just wants to be friends.  Max in s3 having to correct El that Mike is her “ ex boyfriend” and Will saying “that doesn’t sound like a break”. And Max agreeing “it wasn’t!” is foreshadowing they never actually got back together.  IT WASN’T A BREAK! But El may not accept this.
It’s similar, to the random telemarketing joke where they had Mike say on the phone “El, sorry not interested “ and hang up . It was foreshadowing.
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In the films the exes constantly call . Mike telling El “i’ll call so often you’ll have to turn your walkie off” was also foreshadowing of what Mike will do to her in s4. Since ,he hung up on her in s3 when she called demanding to know where he was at 9:30 in the morning.  In  ‘swingers’ the guy name mike (whose friends call him ‘gay’)  hangs up on his ex gf who wants to get back together . He hangs up on her so he can talk to his new love interest (Will) . Specifically, Hangs up on his ex as she says  “I love-“. Then in ‘splash’ he breaks up with his gf on the phone and says “do I love you?well what about you?” To dodge the question (then yells at a family member ease dropping on the other line -Karen). And they break up on the phone. And he tells a friend later he never loved her. 
2 movies the ex says they’ll get back together and their new relationships are “just phases” etc ( waynes world,  high fidelity, dumb and dumber). Saying they’re still together when they aren’t  (wayne’s world). Loads of movies had the crazy ex sabotage new relationships, call constantly, stalk, and flirt despite the exes discomfort and repeatedly saying it’s over (despite the ex not loving them and just be possessive and not wanting them with other people).
The exes are cray in the films (el stalking and never apologizing for spying. And mileven dancing to the song ‘every breath you take’ a song about a stalker ex who doesn’t take no for an answer -after their ex hooks up with their friend, wasn’t a coincidence). Along with El watching ‘days of our lives’ where she mimicked erica who was in a relationship with Mike roy. And it ended messy with one of them sabotaging their new relationship, stalking them, and claiming the stalking victim still loved them. (Although, they eventually accepted that wasn’t true).  
El  stalked Mike in s2 (all that stuff milevens found romantic- El watching him without him knowing. Mike said he was not ok with it in s3). And in s3 (like the song) she stalks him after their breakup, and when he said not to do that she just says ‘i make my own rules’. I think s4 shows just how ‘un-cute’ this behavior can get.
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 I’ve already talked about that awkward kiss scene to death. But i think it indicates Mike assumes they’re broken up and el assumes they’re back together. 
FIrst he  LIED AGAIN (the cause of the breakup)- and pretended he didn’t confess to her at the end of s3. And never said “ I love you’ back! He even tries to take the words back and  says about the prior love confession “ “Oh! Oh, yeah that.Man, that was so long ago. Um…”  and starts to scratch his head and says everything he said at the cabin was “in the heat of the moment stuff and we were arguing…”
They even frame the scene right before the kiss strangely, making El look larger and imposing, as she approaches. Mike feels cornered (you the viewer subconsciously are supposed to feel claustraphobic/trapped/cornered/stuck along with Mike).
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We see him furrow his brows (uncomfortable and confused ) when El initiates the romantic moment, saying “I love you too.”
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 And cue most awkward kiss in history- where he keeps his eyes open the whole time and doesn’t kiss back. (In Will’s room, mike in front of an open closet, as el holds Will’s s1 bear.)
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 During the kiss, the song ‘the first i love you ‘played. The only other time they played that song in s3,  was when Robin rejects Steve’s  romantic confession and she comes out as gay . Interesting choice for that awkward mileven kiss/confession shown later where El says she loves Mike (and mike keeps his eyes open, doesn’t kiss back or return the ‘I love you’). It’s foreshadowing of Mike rejecting El (in the future) cause he’s gay.
We even see El’s reaction first (happy, smiling and giddy). Assuming they’re back together. But then we blur the screen to see Mike’s opposing expression. He looks confused, bewildered and even furrows his brows again.
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Then we see El initiating all the romantic stuff outside.El seems to be the one trying to make it romantic- like Mike hugging el and lucas with one arm identically (hand on their upper back), but El caresses his chest.
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And as Mike stops the hug El shoves his head into hers (it actually looked like it hurt honestly XD)
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the byler centric ending with the Hopper monologue reinforces this theme. Mike while looking at both cars driving away was thinking of Will . They show this by having Mike be sad as Will drives away (alone) twice as Mike  sadly watches him leave- this was done to show that he’s actually upset the 2 later times where Will and El leave at the same time -because of Will. I showed it in one of my vids here, at 23:11
When we first see Mike during the Hopper monologue , it continues to pan to only Mike and Will (not El) cause what he says is mostly about them. “I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like you’re pulling away from me or something” (Will does this both figuratively/literally). I miss playing board games every night (d &d)”. Then Mike looks back at the Byers house (he just lingers there and looks back as his friends leave without him) like how Will turned to watch Mike leave and hold hands with El  (as the crew  go up the hill without Will).  “But I know you’re getting older, growing, changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change.”
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It pans to both of them on  “i don’t want things to change’ cause that’s how they both feel. Mike , ‘doesn’t want things things to change’. He doesn’t want their friendship to change as they ‘get older’ because he’d have to and acknowledge his feelings for Will are romantic and if he’s “being honest” that “scares” him (especially in rural 80s conservative-Indiana at the height of the aids epidemic).  Why we see Mike trying to act like a adult while dating El, and Will trying to act like a kid- they’re both trying to escape  growing up to be gay in different ways. Will reverting to childhood activities and saying he’ll ‘never fall in love’ (after his double date with lumax). And Mike trying to act like “old people’ saying “we’re not kids anymore... what did you expect that we’d never get girlfriends?” Cause he equates straight romance with being an adult and his feelings for Will as something he has to grow out of . Which he learns in the very end isn’t possible.
Right after that scene it switches from Will crying,  to Mike entering his house. His face is visibly red from crying and he looks shocked (almost as if he realized something) before he hugs his mom- to mirror the time he thought Will died in s1. 
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And the dialogue in this scene says “So I think maybe that’s why I came in here, to try and maybe stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were.” He goes back to his mother for comfort, like he did the 1st time he lost Will. But also to reverse back time, to s1, before he realized his feelings for Will are romantic.  When things were simple. I think the last episode is when Mike truly realizes he’s been in love with Will this entire time and he can’t fix it and transfer his feelings for Will on to el (something he’s been trying to do all of s3). El said he loved him and he felt nothing-and he was heartbroken over Will leaving (not El). Which is why he just seems almost shocked/numb as he’s processing this fact. This whole scene only showed Mike and Will transitions- el was never there, cause Mike wasn’t upset over her.
In the last ep (in s3) Mike mirrors the scene in s1, hugging his mom, since he feels like he’s losing Will all over again. In s1 the romantic/queer coded lyric from the song ‘We can be heroes’ plays as he hugs his mom “And we kiss as though nothing could fall. And the shame.”. And during the s3 move  (‘we can be heroes’) plays again!  And David Bowie wrote this song and Jonathan even said to Will  in his ‘being a freak is the best speech’ “who would you rather be friends with David bowie (a queer singer) or Kenny Roggers?”
It’s why finn wolfhard after s3 liked this byler pic. cause s3 was all about Will and Mike denying their feelings for each other.
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Not to mention,After s1 Finn quoted the  Duffers saying Mike thought of El as a “puppy’ (dart) or “et” , and then said  Mileven was a  “first summer love thing”- foreshadowing mileven’s downfall during the Summer (aka s3). He repeats this “first summer love” phrase 2x.  Millie when he mentioned what the duffers said rightfully thought the puppy thing was “awful”, but Finn was clearly told mileven doesn’t last -very early on- and most likely the Duffers told him “it’s like a first summer love thing”.Summer love” by definition fails-as it only lasts during the summer.
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fluffymcu · 4 years
Text
Letting Loose
Part EIGHT
This series is TICKLE related. Outfits that are linked here are purely for picturing the clothes, you don’t have to look like the model.
Series Summary:  You’re the little sister of the one and only Captain America. You’re also the youngest girl on the team, so that automatically makes you the avengers’ little princess. And they spoil you as such. They have become your amazing family and you don’t know where you’d be without them. This series will show random adventures and fluffy events in the daily life of the reader and her family, along with an unexpected turn later on as you read.
A/N: I’m so excited to be writing this series! This is my first time writing one and I’m a bit nervous but I hope it all goes well. :) The first few chapters will be about random events, not really following a timeline until Chapter 9. Hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 2,823
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You and Peter leave with Happy for school and for once in a long time, you’re not 2 minutes before the bell rings! The reason you and Peter were almost late today was because you were having a hard time finding a outfit. But once you did, it was smooth sailing from there. 
Once you were in class, you were writing down some notes in your journal when you kept noticing one of your classmates looking at you weird. You had looked up  from your notes to see what your teacher was writing when you caught the glare from the corner of your eye. They were glaring at you with a grimace on their face. You looked around to make sure if it was you they were looking at. When you confirmed, you became very confused. You didn’t even talk to them. Heck, you didn’t even know their name! They were always so quiet and surprisingly, they were never called on.
You decided to smile anyway, and carry on with your work. Now that you knew they were watching however, you couldn’t help but steal glaces up at them every now and then, and every time you’d look, they’d be glaring. It made you feel a bit uncomfortable but you pushed through it until lunch. 
-----
“Get your vegetables, sweetie.” The lunch lady at the cafeteria said, smiling sweetly and nodding towards the green beans in the small clear plastic container. You grabbed it and so did Peter, following him out of the line.
“So yeah, they’ve just been glaring at me the entire time, and I’ve never even held a formal conversation with them!” You said, taking a seat at the table. Ned and MJ were still in line. 
“What’s their name?” Peter asked, taking a bite out of the apple.
“I don’t even know!” You exclaimed. “That’s why I’m telling you, It’s so weird.” You shook your head. Peter hummed, his brows furrowed.
“That is weird. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding? You know how sometimes you’re in deep thought and you just stare out into space? Maybe they were thinking about something and just happened to be staring at you?” He shrugged.
You nodded, taking a bite of your pizza. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I mean, it’s the only thing that would make sense. I’ve never done anything to them so I don’t see a reason why they would do that.” You thought out loud. 
“Yeah. So. I’m thinking we should do something fun after school. Maybe we could ride the go-kart or go by the city?” Peter asked, a wide grin creeping onto his face. You sat back and thought for a moment before your grin rivaled his.
“Or... we could do something super fun like prank Bucky!” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him. Peter started laughing and pointed at you.
“I like that idea! Bucky’s reactions are hilarious!” He laughed, clapping his hands together.
“Right?!”
----
You were looking up at the clock every 2 minutes, hoping that some miracle would appear and suddenly an hour would pass. Jeremy was being a huge pain today and you couldn’t wait to go home when class was over. He was constantly whispering your name from across the room, throwing crumbled up notes at your head, making paper airplanes land on your desk, and so much more. You were surprised at how the teacher never caught him doing any of this, and how he got those paper planes to land on your desk every time. 
“Y/n!” You heard Jeremy whisper for the 100th time today. You sighed and decided to see if he would stop if you’d look at him. When you did, he smiled widely, faltering a bit when you didn’t return it. “I like your shirt.” He whispered. You scoffed silently and rolled your eyes. You returned your attention back to the teacher and ignored him the best you could for the rest of the day.
When the bell rang, you packed your stuff at record breaking speed and zoomed out the class. As you raced out the room, you could hear Jeremy’s obnoxious laugh. Thank god school was over now.
-----
As you got home, Peter went straight to shower and you joined Nat in the kitchen, who was baking a cake. She claimed to like cooking and baking by herself, but she told you once that you were the only one who she likes to bake with. She made you swear not to tell anyone though, and you’ve kept it. 
As you were mixing the frosting, you got a small spoon and dipped it in it, smudging a bit on her cheek. She gasped and you put the bowl down and ran away when she was coming at you with a pan. You knew she’d never hurt you but you had to run away just in case you accidentally died under her supervision.
Nat was pouring the cake batter onto the pan and you were still ‘mixing’ the frosting when in reality you were eating it slowly. You thought you were getting away with it stealthily, but, come on, this is Nat we’re talking about. 
“Stop eating all the frosting!” She growled, poking your belly making you flinch and yelp. 
“Okayokayokay!” You giggle, putting your hands up in surrender but she keeps poking and scratching around your belly and sides. “Nohoohoo! I said okahahahay!” You cry.
Nat smirks and continues, fluttering her fingertips up you your neck and behind your ears. “I know, but it’s too much fun to stop.” She hums, wiggling her nimble fingers into your armpits. You squeal before your knees buckle, bringing you down to the floor. Nat giggles along and crouches down beside you and continues to torture your sides. Her touches are so light on your sides, but they’re driving you crazy. You arch your back and shake your head side to side. 
“Nahahahat! Plehehease!” You squeak. 
Natasha smiled and looked at the stove to see it was almost time to put the batter in. She turns to face you with a smirk and moves up to scratch in between your ribs. You cackle, throwing your head back as your face is heating up. “Are you gonna keep eating the frosting?” She asks, chuckling when you give in instantly.
“NOHOHOHO! I PROHOMISE! HAHAH!” You finally relax as she stops, getting up to put the batter when the oven beeps. You get up as well once you catch your breath and finish preparing everything else, having to make more frosting now because you ate half of it. You then sit down at the island with Nat, talking about school and stuff until the cake is done. You frost the cake, add sprinkles because why not, and cover it up in a nice glass cake holder. You both high-five and take a slice, knowing if you wait ten minutes, the team would gobble it up before you even get a bite. 
Sure enough, by the next time you passed by the kitchen again, the cake was gone. You and Peter met in his room to discuss the plans for pranking Bucky. “Okay. So, I say we prank him when he’s in the shower. We mess with the temperature and turn it super super cold and run out. We know he likes to use the gym showers when he’s done working out so it would be a perfect time to prank him!” You said, making sure to keep a hushed tone in case anyone was listening. 
“Yeah! That’d be so funny. He’s working out right now, so let’s spy on him until he goes to shower.” Peter says, helping you jump on his back to go on your stealthy mission. 
----
You and Peter have been watching Bucky exercise for the past 30 minutes, and you were both bored. “Jesus, I mean, I know he’s like strong and stuff, and doesn’t get tired easily, but how long does he have to work out? We saw him go to the gym like 2 hours ago.” You whispered.
“Shhh! Keep your voice down, he has enhanced hearing.” Peter whispered, frantically holding his finger over his mouth. 
“Oh, I’m being quiet!” You rolled your eyes, scoffing sassily, flinching back in mild offense when Peter quickly covered your mouth with his hand. 
“Y/n! If you don’t stop whispering so loud he’s gonna know we’re spying on him. You think you’re whispering but you’re being very loud and he can hear you if you continue. So keep quiet!” Peter whispered, taking your hand off your mouth when you huffed and nodded. You both continue to watch him for a few more minutes, getting excited when he reaches for his water bottle and towel, walking towards the showers. 
You cheer quietly and you both wait a few moments before hearing the water run. You make your way inside the showers and find the one he’s in. You wait a few minutes for the water to heat up and so he could get comfortable in the heat, before nodding at Peter, who quickly changes the nozzle to the extreme opposite side. You clasp your hand over your mouth, getting ready for the reaction. 
“AHHHHHH!”
You and Peter burst out laughing, running out of the showers while Bucky is yelling out streams of curses and screams. As you run out into the gym, you could hear Bucky screaming out at you both. “YOU KIDS ARE SO DEAD!”
You reach Peter’s room, shutting the door behind you and falling to the floor in silent laughter. Peter was rolling around in his bed and letting out cackles. You just kept replaying Bucky’s reaction in your head, not being able to stop laughing. “Ohoho my gohohohod that was hilarious!!” You squealed, getting up from the floor. Peter nodded, sitting up and holding his stomach. “Yeheheah, he’s gonna kill us though.” He chuckled. You shrugged, giggling a but and sitting down next to him. “Eh, he’ll get over it...hopefully.”
He did not.
----- 
It was a little while before dinner and you were playing around with peter in the living room, him laying on the floor and balancing you on his hands and feet. His hands were holding yours and he had both feet on either side of your hip. You were giggling madly and struggling to keep your arms straight, so you were shaking a lot. You had fallen on top of him multiple times, but you'd get right back up. Tony was watching you guys over the counter, making dinner. He had a light smile on his face at the sound of both of your laughter. You got on top again and this time you were determined to stay up, stifling your laughter and tightening your core. You started smiling when peter began to cheer for you. “There we go! Keep going, hold it, hold it!” Peter strained, keeping you balanced. Tony left the kitchen temporarily to go help Pepper with something, mumbling at you both to stay safe before leaving. You grunted as you almost fell again, but peter caught you and kept you up just in time.
You were both so caught up in your game, that you didn’t notice Bucky stroll into the living room with a determined look on his face. His presence was made known however, when he quickly snatched you up and held you tightly against his chest. You shrieked, instantly recognizing him and you began to laugh hysterically when he started to dig into your hips. “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” He teased, digging in the spot right above your hips making you squirm violently in his arms.
“NOHOHOHOHO! BUCKYHYHYHY!” You cried, cackling when he began to blow several raspberries on the crook of your neck. He had your arms held to your sides, preventing you from defending yourself. “This is what you get for that lame ass prank! Regret it yet?” He teased, lifting you up a bit in his grip so he could pinch harshly at your sides. You instantly melt in his arms, kicking out your legs desperately. “WAHAHAIT! PETER HEHEHELPED!” You yelled. If you were gonna get it, so was he.
“I know; he’s next.” He smirked. Peter’s eyes widened and he decided to leave, running out of the living room and hiding in Wanda’s room. Bucky chuckled and sat down on the couch, positioning you to sit on his lap bridal style. You tried to roll off of him right away but he easily grabbed you back. “Apologize.” He says. You might have been a giggling mess, but you weren’t going to apologize for an awesome prank.
“No!” You yell, even then sounding unsure of yourself. Bucky chortles, shaking his head and bringing your stomach up to his face. You begin to giggle nervously again as he's lifting your shirt with his mouth, blowing an abnormally large and ticklish raspberry after. You shriek, twisting around in his hold, cackling when he begins to rub his scratchy stubble all around your belly, making ‘nomming’ noises and playfully biting the skin. It tickles so much and all you can do is just weakly push at his head. He's playfully growling as he bites the pudgy skin on your belly and you quickly fall into silent laughter, kicking out desperately for him to let you go.
Bucky laughs, laying you down and digging his fingers into your collarbone, smiling when you once again let out laughter, squeaking out pleads of mercy. “Hmmm, I hear all these ‘please’ and “stop’ s but I'm not hearing any apologies.” He hums, shaking all of his digits into your ribs. “Are you ready to apologize now?” You scream loudly, arching your back and giving in immediately.
“YEHEHEHES!” You cackle, turning into jelly in his arms when he stops. He giggles along with you and lifts you up to rest your head on his chest. “Ihihihim sohohorry.” You giggle. Bucky smiles and nods, kissing your forehead.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He teased, pinching your side lightly. You flinch and giggle lazily, dramatically rolling off the couch and onto the floor. Bucky shakes his head at you fondly, looking up when Peter comes into the living room again.
“Sup guys, is everything settled?” He asks, like nothing happened. Thankfully, Bucky was going to be fair today.
“Not yet. You haven’t apologized, punk!” He growls, making a bee line towards Peter, smirking at his terrified screech before taking off. You giggle as you can hear their banter in the halls, Peter spitting out protests and pleads and Bucky having none of it.
“Wait wait wait wait wait Mr. Barnes! Mr. Barnes, wait! I can explain!”
“Save it for after you get your part of the punishment. You're only making this worse for you, kid! Get off the walls!”
You grin widely when you finally hear Peter’s desperate laughter echoing through the halls, pumping your fist when he gets what he deserves for trying to walk out on his punishment and leave you there.
----
Finally, you finish helping the team clean up dinner and you go upstairs with Peter to commence your sleepover. Like always, you bring snacks up and turn on the tv. After a while, peter turns to look at you with a grin. “Hey. I have an idea.”
You turn to look at him as well, mimicking his grin. “What. And it better not be pranking Bucky again, because I don’t know about you, but I've learned my lesson for today.” You chuckle humorlessly, raising your hand in defeat. Peter rolls his eyes and chuckles.
“No way. Not doing that again for a while.” He says. “We should build a fort. We haven’t built one in a long time!”
You smile and nod excitedly, ripping the covers off your body and getting to work.
It was only about 10pm when you and Peter began building it. You draped blankets over some high chairs that you both quietly stole from the kitchen and put blankets on the floor and stuffed pillows inside. You even decided to be extra and drape some fairy lights on the inside. Building a fort with Peter was one of your many favorite things to do. You didn’t do it very often, because you wanted it to be something special when you did.
You both crawled in and admired your work. You pulled out your laptop, setting it up on the ground and opening up Netflix. “We probably should’ve saved some snacks for this.” Peter chuckled.
“Yeah, we should have.” You laughed, looking at the empty wrappers. You both agreed on watching a few episodes of The Office before turning off the fairy lights and falling asleep in the fort. Surprisingly, sleeping on the floor wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it would be.
The next day was okay, school was interesting, especially with your classmate once again giving you weird looks. You were extremely confused. This has been going on for quite a bit now.  What did I ever do to them?
118 notes · View notes
ripspaghet · 4 years
Text
bff | 06
↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | ongoing
→ pairing: yoongi x reader
→ word count: 5,860
Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?
→ warnings: angst, swearing, cheating, self hate, trauma
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Gone. Gone again. Anytime he feels he's gotten closer to unearthing the melody it slips from his fingertips, like water. It would all be so much easier if he didn't have this desire, this want. Every time it's silent he feels there's this void, something gaping within him, and life begins to feel dismal - yet, he still finds himself here, in this dark and desolate place that doesn't belong to him. A single red light aluminates in the darkness and he's left with no choice but to approach, shatter the glass, and enter. It isn't until screeching alarms pull in attention that he truly realizes that this place is not his own. Invaded. Breached. Ransacked. He's an unwelcome guest - although, these simple facts don't stop him. They pull him in, glass crunching beneath his shoes as he takes a seat. Fear and adrenaline suffocate the darkness looming around him, screaming that he is not wanted. He just needs to remember it. His fingers run along with the ivory keys, the smooth melody of the first five notes flowing into each other, only for an eerie pause of silence to follow. He lets his fingers slip from the keys. It's useless.
A soft echo of notes makes his eyes open.
He turns, looking for where the tune originated - but there's nothing, no one as far as the eye can see in this dense cloud of darkness. Nothing but the alarm filters through.
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It's been exactly a day since it happened. The way your nerves are making your heart quake has, if nothing else, increased with time. You've been utterly restless - pacing around your dorm, spacing out while staring at the chipped paint of your white walls, and picking at hangnails excessively. You know you're going to have to face this. Otherwise, the rug will be pulled out from under you when you least expect it. It's safe to say you'd rather be the one pulling the rug, then be the one standing on it, waiting anxiously for your inevitable downfall.
You knock on the door about five times before it finally opens, making way to the threshold beyond it and a pair of pleasantly surprised eyes. Her gaze makes your stomach drop, so you opt for studying the interior details of her apartment. It's spacious and open, natural light pouring in from just about every nook and cranny. It suits her, she's never been one for reciting in the dark - despite her, more often than not, glaring gaze.
"____," She opens the door wider, "I didn't know you were coming, I would've made food if you called. Come in." You oblige, taking off your coat as you enter the apartment, the smell of scented candles, and floral encasing you in a spring time-capsule. You hang your coat on the rack next to the door. "It's been so stressful since the new semester started, we've barely had any time to hang out." You follow her into the kitchen after removing your shoes. "Work has been crazy too, you remember that kid that kept coming in and ripping the flowers off their stems?" She circles the center bar, making her way to the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of what you presume to be tea as she pours it into a glass, "Well, the manager refuses to ban him. He blames me for allowing the kid to destroy our merchandise." She slides the glass to you, "You prefer it cold, right?" She sighs, "That manager, such a prick. I'm really considering quitting if this keeps up." Remaining silent you watch as she fiddles with her own glass as she rambles, "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship or anything. It's just between all this and...Yoongi," Your stomach drops and your ears go fuzzy. You don't hear much of what she says, swearing you're about to barf up the chicken you'd had for lunch not all that long ago. Her voice lowers as if she's afraid someone might be listening in, "He's being so strange, showed up h-"
"Mina, I need to talk to you about something." You don't dare meet her eyes, you keep them downcast on the dewdrops of condensation rising on the glass of your untouched drink. She falls silent, the air around you becoming heavy. With a sigh, you take a seat at the bar but still neglect to touch the tea in front of you. Mina moves to take the seat next to you, still silent, observing your exhausted expression. "Listen, about Yoongi - I don't really know how to say this, so, I'll just say it. He k-"
You're startled into a flinch as fumbling footsteps followed by a loud crash of glass and fuck knows what else, cuts you off. As you turn your head, a lanky body stumbles out of the hallway into the kitchen, their back to you and Mina as a harsh swear makes your breath hitch. Dirt and glass is now spread out across the marble floor in a messy display and Mina moves quickly while you remain in your seat, watching as she rushes with worried words, "Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?" 
As if you hadn't already realized, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, heart slamming up into your throat as his dark hair falls over his brows and shifts ever so slightly with the tilt of his head, "I'm fine, " His dark eyes never leave you as Mina scans him for injuries, "your plant, not so much."
"I'll get the broom." Mina saunters off, leaving you alone with the source of your guilty conscience - you're dripping with it, a metaphorical layer of sweat against your skin that's almost suffocating.
"____-"
"Don't."
"Got it! Yoongi, hold this for me."
His mouth is quick to clamp shut as he takes the dustpan that's shoved into his chest, his eyes darting away from you, "Yeah, sure."
Mina works quickly as always, swiping the dark potting soil up into the yellow pan that Yoongi holds steady. Nervously, you shift your gaze away from the two and pick up your tea to take a large gulp.
This is going up in flames. How are you supposed to tell her with him here? You don't want to be- No, you shouldn't be caught up in this. You should have never let it happen…
"There," Mina's voice pulls your attention back up, "I'll-"
"No, I've got it." His hand lightly brushes her wrist before he turns to dispose of the dirt. The gesture is small enough to convince you that neither of them really noticed it - just a natural loving touch, nothing unusual - though, it's enough to make you look away again.
"____? Are you alright?"
Your breath hitches and you have to force the hard expression on your face to loosen, "I'm f-fine." They are together, happy, maybe even in love. He hasn't said a word to her about any of it, yet, he wasn't alone in the act. You could've stopped him. You could've pushed him away, should've told him no. She's your best friend and you let him-
"What was it you were saying? Something about Yoon-"
"Nothing," You force a big smile, "I think I was just a bit worried about you. As you said, we haven't made time for each other lately."
"Oh, " Her lips purse, "we should make time for each other soon then."
How selfish are you? Never in your life have you thought of yourself as a horrible person. But now? Your skin is crawling with self-loathe. Every time you meet Mina's gaze your stomach drops - not because of what happened, but because of how it made you feel. The images that run rampant in your head shouldn't be there. It's all the worse that there was no lust driving your actions - there was a deep-rooted desire, an intoxicating burning beneath your skin that makes you dizzy just thinking about it. A passionate fire had dwindled to life beneath your ribcage. It should make you sick. You should be repulsed at the mere thought. "I should get going now. I don't want to intrude on your couple time. I'll see you in class."
"You don't-"
"Call or text if you need me."
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The hallway is clustered with people, bumping shoulders with you as you drag yourself along. Maybe it's best you act like it never happened, that Mina remains happy and not miserable knowing the man she is in love with kissed her best friend...and that her best friend allowed it - kissed him back even. And maybe you deserve this dreadful feeling that's swelling inside, growing larger day by lousy day.
You stop abruptly, a student behind you swearing at you for making them walk around. You don't know why you've stopped, don't know what urges you to turn your head but, never the less, you do. You blink at the letters next to the door. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you peek through the small door window. It's tantalizing, filling you with more anger than any remorse. You let this thing, this object, control you. Your every move and action revolves around running from it and for what?
Before you can convince yourself otherwise you're yanking the door open and marching in, heading straight for the ivory keys sat on the opposite side of the music room. How could you be afraid of something so ridiculous? It's pathetic. You plop down on the bench, eyes set to kill as your fingers naturally fall into the correct posture. And with a soft and steady exhale of air, your fingers slowly ignite, brushing along the keys with a fevered nostalgia.
'Prélude no.25 in C sharp minor, Op.45', a piece you once knew like the back of your hand. The memories of it still linger fresh in your mind, so much so that your hands could flow with the smoothness of the lilting notes even in your sleep. Your turmoil seems to whip and lash at your fingertips like a ravenous animal as the song crescendos, the tempo increasing with veracity and then it cuts through you, a sharp pain traveling up your right wrist and you yank your hands away. The room falls silent, nothing but the sounds of birds chirping outside and the wind whistling. Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you can't help but slam your foot into the floor out of frustration.
"____?"
Your breath catches in your throat, fear falling in the pit of your stomach as you turn your head.
"What are you doing in here?"
The sight of Jimin's blonde hair and worried eyes only calms you a little. You'd worried that maybe someone else had found you here, but it being him wasn't exactly any better. "I just-" You turn to look back down at the piano, your brows knit together, "I don't know."
"Come on," Jimin is quick to make his way over to you, yet you don't turn back to face him - even when he wraps his hand around your wrist and gently pulls it up to inspect, "you shouldn't do this to yourself." You turn slowly, reluctant to face anyone at such a vulnerable moment, but you manage to frown at him as the pad of his thumb traces soothing patterns into your skin. His hair is swept neatly across his forehead, a soft smile plays on his lips that doesn't meet his eyes, "Does it still hurt?"
"It hurts every day, Jimin." You turn away, "You know that."
"You're strong ____."
You flinch, not expecting him to say that, of all things.
"After everything that's happened, I've never known you to give up. So, stop putting yourself down." He pauses, coming to sit beside you but never letting your wrist go, "I know you can't play anymore, but your talent doesn't just exist within a piano. It's a lot more than that." Still refusing to meet his gaze, you begin picking at a hangnail, "Here," He lets your hand go and you briefly glance over to see what he's doing just as he holds a small yellow sucker out to you, "it's lemon flavored."
You glance down at the thing held up to your face, "Why-"
"You like lemonade, right?" He smiles, eyes twinkling, "Hurry and take it, we have to get to class before you're late again."
You snatch the candy from him, sniffling in annoyance, "What am I? A five-year-old?"
"You don't have to be a child to enjoy the sweeter things in life."
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You abruptly plop down into your chair between Mina and Jimin, exhaling dramatically as you do. If only it'd all been a dream and you could just forget it. How many times have you thought that now? Were you in the Hundreds now? Thousands?
"Everything alright?"
Like clockwork, you sputter nervously under Mina's gaze, "Ah, yeah, just tired. Must be insomnia or something."
"Insomnia?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to look at you, "Do you have that?"
"Yes? No? Maybe? I'm not a doctor. Where is the professor?" Both of them turn their attention to the front of the class, seemingly not taking notice of your jumpy behavior. Though, you're sure Jimin did. He just knew when it was time to leave you be.
"Oh, that, " Mina nibbles on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling, "Professor Lee caught some nasty bug over the weekend."
"I fail to see why that would make you smile like a little school girl that just wet herself."
She scowls at Jimin, "The professor asked a former student of his to teach the class until he returns."
What?
"Oh, wow, so Loverboy is subbing just so he can stare at your toxic face all day? I don't buy it. He must be into guys."
"Excuse me?"
You think you're about to vomit up your breakfast.
"He finds me cute and couldn't get enough."
"He absolutely does not!"
Please, for the love of all that's good in this world.
"Told me himself."
"Stop making shit up, Park!"
"As soon as you stop buzzing in my ear, you fly."
"I am not a fly! You-"
The classroom door slams and you jump in your seat, making both Jimin and Mina turn to you questioningly as you squeeze your eyes shut in denial. Slow footsteps make their way to the front of the lecture hall and the echo of them makes you cringe.
There is absolutely no way the universe hates you enough to-
"Hello, my name is Min Yoongi, a music producer and a former student of Professor Lee's. Unfortunately, the Professor is bedridden and has asked me to substitute for the time being, let's get along well."
Never mind, the universe doesn't hate you - it loathes you. You'd think that after everything you'd have no trouble avoiding him. Hell, you thought that he'd do the same, but you suppose Min Yoongi isn't going to be giving you any breaks anytime soon.
You let your head fall from your hands and slam into the desk beneath you with a concerningly loud thud.
"Woah, are you alright?" Jimin places a hand on your shoulder and you miserably slug away from him.
"Don't touch me."
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The class drags on like a snail and you've sat here long enough to, staring at a head of dark hair, try to hex the man it belongs to about a thousand times - give or take. You've yet to see a beehive fall from the ceiling and send him running home though.
When the bell finally does ring you're not even granted the semblance of running out yourself as Mina cuts you off, "I'm having my birthday party early this year."
"Oh, really? When is it?" You keep your head down as the two of you mosey along, closer and closer to the front of the classroom.
"Tomorrow at my place."
You nod, more focused on escape than anything else.
"It was going to be on my birthday week, but Yoongi and I made plans together for the day of my birthday. We're going to-"
"That's great Mina. I'm sure the two of you will have a great time together." You force a smile as if your life depends on it, "Say, what time is the party?"
"Oh," Mina laughs with realization as you inwardly sigh with relief at the welcomed change of subject, "it's at eight."
"Great."
Mina bounces over to the exit with excitement, "You'll be there?"
"Of course." You force another smile as you follow after her.
Almost there, almost home free.
"Great, I'll see you then."
You nod again at the threshold, watching as Mina waves back to you.
"____, I need to speak with you."
You freeze, a deadly chill rushing down your spine. "No, thanks." You wave behind you, not turning back as you continue with your escape.
"It's about your test."
You freeze again, your eye twitching at your lack of luck today, "I'm in a real rush, I can't-"
"Come here, now."
Fuck the universe, that vindictive bitch. 
Reluctantly, you turn and make your way back towards the center of the desk you had passed by with ease not all that long ago, "You failed your last test. Professor Lee informed me that you need to retake it, or you'll fail this class."
You keep your eyes directed on the wall behind him, not once sparing him a proper glance, "Okay, I'll find a tutor and-"
"There's no available tutors, because it's exam season. I told Professor Lee I'd handle this, so I'll be teaching you."
Your eyes are quick to dart to his now, "No!"
His fingers tap against the desk and they draw your attention as his eyes narrow in on you, "This has nothing to do with-" He pauses, letting out a steady breath of air and you lift your gaze back to his. Rather than being irritated or annoyed, as you expect, your surprised to find that he looks super uncomfortable, maybe even anxious, "our relationship outside of this room. And might I remind you that this test is half this semester's grade. You'll only fail again without proper help." You grit your teeth, holding back your protests. You hate to admit this, but he's right - again. "Starting next week come here after you've finished all your classes. I will be in the office grading papers. And-" He slides something across the desk to you, "your laptop, you left it."
You grab your laptop quickly before turning to leave, all the while not uttering another word to Yoongi.
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The bathroom mirror is fogged over completely - except for a small spot that you've whipped at in order to dab foundation onto your neck, thoroughly painting over the purple and yellow discoloration on your skin. You juggle with your phone in your other hand, holding it to your ear, "I just- hear me out?"
"Why should I? I don't like her, so the answer is no. End of conversation."
"Please? I don't want to go alone."
"Why not? It's not like it's going to be a fun party. Doubt there will even be alcohol."
"You-"
"Get out of here already!"
"Shit," You begin shoving your makeup back into your bag, fumbling with your phone in the process.
"Listen, I know you've been having a hard time lately but there's no way in hell I'm-"
"Fine! Don't go! It's not like I need you there or anything!" You slam the bathroom door shut behide you, sure to piss off your roommate, who is washing shampoo from her hair.
"Don't be like that, ____. You know she wouldn't even want me-" Throwing your bag over your shoulder you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. After all the things Jimin has put you through, he can't even do you the smallest of favors. You stomp over to your dorm room door, storming out into the hallway, and down the stairs. You shove the glass door to your complex open, letting the cold wind blow tangles into your freshly brushed hair as you stride toward the Lift driver that's been waiting for you at the curb for the past thirty minutes. Under normal circumstances, you'd apologize to the driver for making them wait, but as you've established, time and time again, these are not normal circumstances. As you buckle your seat belt the driver takes off, drifting at about thirty on the speedometer.
A heavy sigh falls off your lips and you lean your head against the window as the first ticks of rain make contact with the transparent glass. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you glance down at it. You half expected it to be a text from Jimin, although the notification is from an unknown number.
Message from Unknown Number-8:32pm: Let me make up for lost time. Please, answer your phone.
You begin typing only to be cut off by another buzz.
Message from Unknown Number-8:33pm: Don't try telling me I've got the wrong number. Jimin gave it to me.
You scowl down at the small screen before abruptly turning off your phone. You curse Jimin as you shove the phone into your bag.
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"Thought you said you weren't going to come."
He fiddles with the ends of his hair, all the while avoiding your gaze, "Well, Jungkook agreed to come along so-"
"You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"
Sighing, Jimin leans against his younger friend, but Jungkook's attention seems to lie elsewhere as he completely ignores the two of you, "You know how I feel about Mina."
"Yeah," You turn to see what's got Jungkook so preoccupied, "and you know how I feel about parties." Across the room you spot Mina and Yoongi. The two are conversing rather aggressively and you inhale sharply, barely managing to remind yourself that it's normal for Mina to blow things out of proportion and it's probably nothing. You don't need to worry. You force your attention back to Jimin.
"I have no idea how you feel about anything nowadays. You're-"
"I swear I'm never doing anything for that she-devil again."
You turn to see a rather annoyed Seokjin now standing behind Jungkook, with a large birthday cake in hand. 
Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head, "What are you doing here?"
He looks away from Jungkook, who is now laughing at his elder's misfortune, "I was conned."
"Ah," You nod and point at the cake, "she made you bake that?"
Jimin shakes his head, "What a shame you let her walk all over you."
"Yeah," Seokjin rolls his eyes before glaring over in Mina's direction, "it's too quiet in here. I'm going to start some music."
You watch Seokjin make his way over to a speaker and then leave for the kitchen. The smell of birthday cake tickles your nose now as the sound of soft pop music lulls the small crowd of people in the apartment space.
"God, this is boring."
"Beyond boring."
Those two seem to be unable to keep their moping to themselves since you arrived, although you haven't paid them all that much attention. You're more concerned with how you're going to avoid eating cake later on. You hate overly sweet things with a passion and Mina's cake is sure to taste like a sugar rush.
"We should liven it up a bit."
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"How about it ____?" You drag your gaze away from a frowning Mina to glance over at Jimin, who's holding a plate full of crumbs that were previously covered in chips. Jungkook stands next to him, bordly munching on some handmade snack you couldn't remember the name of. The two of them refused to stay anywhere that wasn't right beside the snack table. You guessed since there wasn't any alcohol, they were making do with what's available.
"Can you two behave until the candles are blown out? I don't wanna hear Mina yelling until I've already told her my excuse to leave."
Jungkook nods, "Understandable,"
"I suppose I'll wait."
You just want to go home and get some more sleep, you couldn't care less what these two goons had up their sleeves. Yes, you want Mina to have a good birthday, but you can only maintain your act for so long while around her. Faking isn't your strong suit.
"Oh, God,"
"Wha-Oh,"
You glance back over at the two of them to see that they're staring across the room. Jimin is frowning, while Jungkook looks as if his whole life is flashing before his eyes. You turn to see what it is, only to find yourself wishing you never did.
"____! There you are! You sly fox, you. I've been looking for you everywhere."
Your stomach drops, "Who told him?"
Jimin scowls as his friend makes his way over to you, "It definitely wasn't me."
"Sorry, ____. He promised me he wouldn't come if I told him." Jungkook scoots away from you out of fear of your wrath.
The guy approaching you is quick to move to your side, placing an arm around your waist. You're sure to send Jungkook the deadliest of glares that has him cowering behind a now, rather aggravated Jimin.
"Tae, what are you doing here?" You almost choke as you force a smile onto your face.
He pulls you closer to him, a smirk playing on his lips, "I heard from a little birdy that you'd be here." 
As a strong urge to knee Jungkook in the crouch starts to settle in, you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to bear it and not cause a scene.
"Yah, Taehyung, who do you think you are, clinging to my best friend like that?" Jimin's brows have shot up in question as he stares Taehyung down with accusing eyes.
His arm doesn't leave you, though you can feel him stiffen under Jimin's intimidating gaze, "I-"
"If you want your dick sucked find some other girl to do it."
Taehyung frowns, "Jimin, I'm not-"
"Taehyung, " You pat his shoulder, gaining the attention of all three boys' in the process, "how about you go get me a drink from the kitchen?"
He looks back and forth between you and Jimin, slightly suspicious before nodding, and heading off.
Jimin scoffs, "The nerve of him."
"I'm going to get some fresh air. Tell him I went to the restroom or something. Also, try to keep from fighting. Like I said earlier-"
"Yeah, yeah, you don't want to ruin Mina's birthday party. Blah, blah, blah."
"Jimin," You glare, "I'm serious."
"Alright, " He groans, rolling his eyes, "I'll stop. Just go before that horny baboon gets back and tries humping your leg."
You roll your eyes but nod never the less. Jungkook whispers another sorry to you as you walk past them towards the apartment door. You only wave him off, not caring enough to bother with his inability to keep a secret. You're too tired and honestly just wish you could go home. You mean, you could go home with the excuse of, "I started feeling sick." Which wouldn't be a complete lie - thanks to Taehyung. You know Mina wouldn't fall for it though.
Luckily, her apartment is on the bottom floor and it doesn't take you long to make your way outside. The warmth from the building's heater almost seems to melt off your skin in the chilled air. It's only around dinner time, but you suspect the sun has begun to set behind the rain clouds, due to the darkness that has started settling over the city. Your steps are small as you watch your breath puff out into a cold cloud passed your chapped lips. Fiddling with the sucker that still rests in your pocket, you shut your eyes and listen to the downpour that assaults the sidewalk. You hadn't planned on being so weak, so vulnerable. After all these years you'd hoped that maybe you would've grown stronger by now - but you feel weaker than ever.
An exaggerated sigh startles you and your eyes snap open. 
His back is to you as rain showers down onto the awning above, black shoes resting in a puddle on the curb of the street as he stares at cars zipping by. You've never noticed before, but the rainy weather compliments his skin. You find your eyes lingering on the pads of his fingers and the blue veins below red knuckles - a perfect contrast of colors. Really, you know better than to approach him. You know better than to go anywhere near him - but, knowing better doesn't stop you from making your way over to him with a misplaced sense of determination as he reaches into his pocket, nor does it keep you from plopping down next to him as he places the retrieved object between his velvety lips.
He pauses his actions to glance over at you curiously. You frown at him before reaching up and plucking the purple lighter from his left hand, "What are you-"
You shove the lighter into your pocket, exchanging it with your sucker. You know you'll never eat it, might as well put it to good use. You hold it out to him, "You should replace bad habits with healthy habits."
He turns away with a scoff, nibbling on his lower lip - an obvious attempt to keep himself from smiling, "That isn't particularly healthy."
You glance at the sucker, "No, but it's better than what you had before." Nudging the candy into his now empty hand you purse your lips.
Reluctantly, he takes the cigarette away from his mouth and slides it back into its pack, "So, you're talking to me again?"
"No," You stare at him as his long fingers unwrap the yellow sucker and plop it into his mouth.
"Then what do you call this?"
You look away, opting to stare at the wet asphalt and listen to the constant pitter-patter of the rain, "Why were you and Mina fighting?"
Silence falls over the two of you for a moment before he sighs and rolls the stick of the sucker along his tongue, "She wants me here while I need to be elsewhere."
"It's her birthday party."
"Yeah," He snaps, eye sharpening as they flicker over to you, "I told her a month before she planned it what days I'd have work. She did this on purpose."
"Why would she-"
"Because she thinks I'm cheating on her with my coworker." The words are spat bitterly, the sound of the sucker cracking between the tension of his teeth. Your lips clamp shut and you look away from him. Why are you getting involved? You're only making things messier for yourself. "She's not all that wrong, though. I guess I deserve this."
Your head whips back over, "W-what? Are you cheating with a coworker?"
He turns to look at you, brows furrowed, "What? No, I-" He pauses then shakes his head, deciding against it and laughs, "Why are you here ____?"
You glance around, "I-Uh-Mina said I had to come and I-"
His head tips forward, dark hair falling over his lashes, "No, why are you here, with me."
"Oh," You watch the rain as it begins to slow, "I'm not sure."
"Thought you hated me."
"I should." You grit your teeth in annoyance.
"But you don't." Rather than it being a question, it's more of a statement, as if he already knows exactly how you feel.
You don't say a word, you just blink over at his side profile, heart thudding against your ribcage.
He sighs, turning to look at you, "You and I, I know it isn't good. I know I should stay away from you and you do the same to me...but," His dark eyes trace your features, as if trying to memorize them, "I don't think-"
"Jimin! You asshole! Get out! You were never invited for this exact reason!" 
You both turn to see Jimin stumbling out of the apartment complex, Mina hot on his heels, "It's not my fault your party was boring!"
Shit.
"Shut up!" She lands a solid slap that echoes off the back of Jimin's neck and through the rainy streets.
"Fuck! Jungkook! Do something she's touched me! I'm infected!"
Jungkook isn't far behind the pair, seeing as a second later he's the next person to rush out onto the sidewalk. Mina shoves Jimin's chest and he barks with laughter as he stumbles back, "Are you a child?!"
"Sure, if that's what you want me to be."
"Jimin, come on, stop. ____ said to-"
"____ said what?! Is she the one who brought you?!"
Shit.
"What? No, I-"
Next to burst through the door is Taehyung, who is quick to step in between Mina and Jimin, "Really sorry about all this Mina. I'll escort Jimin home."
"You?!" Jimin laughs dryly, "Why? So you can have another go at ____?"
Taehyung's brows crease as he opens his mouth to speak, but when he glances over to see you sitting on the curb he shifts gears, "____! There you are!"
Fuck.
All of their heads turn to you, Jimin raising an eyebrow, Jungkook looking confused, and Mina narrowing her eyes at you as she assesses the fact that her boyfriend is sitting next to you.
"The fuck are you doing out here?" You can tell that her question is directed at Yoongi, only by the small shift of her eyes. Yoongi simply shakes his head and turns away to watch the cars again. 
Somewhere in all the commotion, Taehyung had made his way over to you, seeing as when he plops down next to you and snakes an arm around your waist you flinch, "Is this where you've been hiding?"
"For the love of God, Taehyung, if you don't-"
Jimin is cut off when Yoongi stands up, pulling you with him by the wrist, and glaring at Taehyung in such a way that he freezes on the curb - hands kept to himself. You fidget at the feeling of Yoongi's cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding your breath.  The group turns dead silent before you eventually pull away from Yoongi, taking your wrist back, "Taehyung, please take Jimin home."
"What?!" Jimin squawks at you, "You said you needed me-"
"And I should've just asked Jungkook instead." You're quick to cut Jimin off, glaring at him as if he'd just stepped on your toe.
"I can't believe this. I literally-"
"Aw, poor Park. First time getting dumped on a sidewalk?"
"Shut up!" The snarl takes all of you by surprise, even Mina takes a step back, mouth clamping shut.
"Jimin,"
Jimin's eyes shift back to you, flickering over to Taehyung, then Yoongi before settling back on you, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"
"What's going on with me?" You scoff, "You're joking, right?"
"Well, other than the usual shit show you have going on." His words are harsh and they catch all of you off guard for a second time. Jimin tends to be blunt when he needs to be, yes, but never harsh, "I'm fed up, ____. You won't talk to me. You're just bottling it all up. You can't expect anything the change if you-"
"You're the one who gave Hoseok my number!"
.
.
.
a/n: sorry it took me so long to post and that this is kinda filler🙇‍♀️ but it's the start of some character development and the conflict is raising so it's about get crazy real soon👀😳
@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch @jeonchan26  @loveyoongles @ghoularaki @team-wang-puppy
To be tagged send an ask 🍬🚬
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harringtonstudios · 4 years
Text
baby oh baby. (part II)
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plot: your due date arrives and things get just a little hectic. part 1!
A/N: i’ve had like the worst two days ever :/ this took me a while to write so i hope ya’ll like this hehee. requested by @kellysimagines​! gif is from casie’s actual birth that kells posted :)
taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @lovemythsworld @rosegoldrichie​
send requests here! (i need inspo.)
Almost nine months into your pregnancy and you were glowing. You also looked like a blown-up beach ball, swollen in places you didn’t even know you could be. One of the best things about being so pregnant though, was the fact that you had Colson hovering over you constantly. Usually, you hated when people worried over you, but having your boyfriend try and tend to your every need was a blessing in disguise. 
You had kept up with a certain filming schedule until it had been harder for you to make appearances. After seven months, you had switched all your vlogs to more indoor ones, trying to show fun content in the Baker house. 
There had been a video where you and Casie had played around with choosing a paint color for the nursery. Another vlog, one of the fan favorites, was when the guys had all come over to set up and decorate the nursery as a surprise. You hadn’t been aware of what was happening, only that Rook had run in to grab a camera from your bedroom. Hours later, they led you into the room, a pale mint-green with a mural painting and a black chalkboard wall on one side. It had been everything you wanted, and watching the footage of them goofing around all day to make it had made the entire experience better.
You had been going to regular gyno appointments, keeping in check with your prenatal vitamins and trying to record every new milestone that happened. 
One of the first milestones was when you felt your baby kick. You had never been through pregnancy, and the feeling of something moving in around you was so foreign that you hadn’t even recognized it. Colson had been the one, hands laying on your stomach as you were editing one of your older vlogs. He had immediately frozen in his movements, looking up at you with the warmest eyes. You hadn’t paid much attention, so he got up, bringing your camera, aiming it towards you before saying, “So, here we have Y/N. And here, we have baby Baker just kicking around.” Your reaction was priceless and it was still one of the funniest things he had caught on camera. 
Another milestone had been hearing the baby’s heartbeat. You had promised Casie that she would be the first person to hear baby Baker’s heart, so you held the camera in your hands as the nurse spread cool jelly on your stomach. Within seconds, soft thuds filled up the emptiness of the room. Casie had dropped open her mouth, instinctively reaching for your hand. There had been such love filling inside of you at that moment, holding her hand and hearing the heartbeat of your new baby. Tears started falling down onto your cheeks and you wiped them away hastily, smiling at Casie’s little face as she grinned up at you.
Your favorite milestone so far though had been when Colson had caught you sitting on the kitchen floor, refrigerator open. There was a mess in front of you, different foods you’d been craving half opened. You were aiming a whip cream can straight down on your throat when he walked down the stairs. He laughed loudly, startling you, sending whip cream all over your face instead of your mouth. 
“Fuck, Colson!” you scolded him, reaching for something to wipe your face with. 
“Baby, I couldn’t help it. What are you doing, its 4am,” he rationalized, passing you paper towels. After wiping most of the whip cream off, you shrugged, motioning at all the foods surrounding you. 
“Baby Baker got hungry,” you tried and he gave you a look, before grinning. 
Picking up the half-eaten carton of cheese cubes, he murmured, “And they wanted cheddar?”
You nodded, before laughing yourself. It was kinda crazy. You had eaten so many different flavor profiles that you couldn’t actually taste anything anymore. Colson came closer, before motioning for your hand. Pulling you up, he reached over, grabbing your face. Licking up the side of your cheek, he whispered, “You got something on your face.”
You pushed him away, snickering at his words. “I wonder why,” you spoke back, tongue sticking out. Moving back into his arms, he kissed your forehead, before looking down to stare straight into your eyes. Making eye contact, he muttered, “Lemme put something else down your throat.”
Your eyes widen immediately and you let out a deep belly-laugh. He smirked and you moved out of his embrace, whacking him, “Do you see the kitchen right now?”
“We can do it right here, I promise I’ll help clean up after,” he murmured, hands back on you, trailing up and down your bare arms. It took two more seconds, and then you were kissing him before awkwardly getting on your knees, belly in the way. 
He cleaned up the entire kitchen afterwards, even using the fancy wipes you had bought to kill germs on the countertops. It was heaven, you sat on the couch, watching him move around, keeping him in check every time he missed a spot. 
-
Sooner than later, you were near the ending days of your nine months. Things had been hectic in the Baker household. With your due date upcoming, the guys had decided to start cooking for the next few days. There was half-eaten food everywhere, pans stacked up on counters, and dishes that no one had bothered to clean up. It was getting a little too crazy, with everyone celebrating the pre-arrival of the baby. You weren’t in the best shape to be cleaning up the house, especially since your doctor had asked you to move as little as possible right before the due date, but you couldn’t just sit back in this messy house. 
Slowly moving into the kitchen, you grabbed one of the plastic bags from under the sink. Sweeping through the counters, you dumped in wrappers, empty cans, and the hundreds of paper plates scattered around the surfaces. You were just reaching for the empty pizza box when suddenly, you felt a sharp pain rise up in your stomach.
Gasping, you leaned against the counter, trying to ride through the wave of pain. Spacing your feet apart, you steadied yourself, breathing slowly. Another sharp pain came through and you dropped the garbage bag, reaching for the marble top. A third pain rode in and you let out a little scream, bringing your head against the surface, trying to breathe through the pain. 
A few seconds later, you felt something wet gush down your legs, and you silently cursed all the heavens to come. Your water had broken. You could hear the commotion going on in the game room and you hesitated before yelling, “SOMEONE DRIVE ME TO THE HOSPITAL!”
For a second, there was silence and then Colson started screaming at the guys. Slim ran past you, going upstairs to get your delivery bag that your best friend had packed for you. Rook was on the phone and as he came to stand near you, you could hear Casie on the other end, mumbling through her sleep. You let out another scream, the pain unbearable. Just as you were about to fall, Colson came up right behind you. He put his arms around you, pushing you to stand back up. 
“Let’s go baby, let’s get in the car,” he murmured and you tuned everyone else out, focusing on your boyfriend’s reassuring voice. As you waddled towards the door, Slim came back, carrying the red leather bag with all your essentials in it. There was a camera you had tossed in there, back when you were still debating filming the birth. Colson had sat down with you one night, and you both had discussed what would be the best option. Finally, you had decided on not exactly filming the birth, but having Colson have the camera before and after, so that he could capture as many moments as possible. 
Sitting in the passenger seat, you pushed it back, almost lying down as Colson started the car. You picked up your phone, facetiming your best friend to get her ass to the hospital just as a sharp turn came up on the road. 
“Colson! What the fuck,” you shouted.
“Shit, I’m sorry, oh fuck, I’m nervous,” he yelled back, running a hand through his hair and you grimaced as you felt a tinge of pain.
 Hanging up the facetime, you murmured out, “We’re fine. Listen, it’s ok. Let’s just get to the hospital yeah?” You saw him nod out of your peripheral, and you reached for his hand, squeezing it just a little as the emergency room came into sight. 
-
An hour later, Colson was sitting next to your hospital bed in the blue scrubs they made him put on. He was talking into the camera, occasionally panning over to you. You were in pain, but the doctors had decided you weren’t dilated enough yet. They wanted to wait longer, just so that the birth could be natural and easier for both parties. They had given you an epidural shot, which had hurt like all fucking hell, but at least you were feeling a little bit better now. Your friend had bought you fruit snacks and you popped another one into your mouth as Colson asked, “How’s mama feeling?”
“I am on many drugs right now,” you responded, waving a fruit grape gummy around in the air. He laughed before turning the camera back on himself. 
“How are you actually doing?” your friend asked, dragging a chair over to sit on the other side of the bed. 
“I just want this fucking baby out of me already. Like I love that I grew this human inside of me, but I can’t do it anymore. And why don’t guys have to deal with this? Can you imagine if this one had a baby inside of him, he’d be going berserk right now!” you ranted, pointing over to Colson as he chatted away on the vlog. 
-
Three hours later, and the nurses had informed you that you were perfectly dilated. Pushing through the slight pain, you gripped Colson’s hand as you focused. He was mumbling jokes out into the air, but at the first sounds of your screams, he quickly shut up. You were pretty sure you were breaking the bones in his hand, but he deserved it for making you go through all this pain, so you closed your eyes, letting out another scream.
“You’re doing good Y/N. Keep pushing,” the doctor stated and you let the tears fall as you put in all the strength you had left. 
“Come on sweetie, one more push,” the nurse next to you mumbled, wiping your forehead. You grunted and then your body instantly relaxed. The sounds of a cry filled the room and you collapsed backwards, crying silently. You felt Colson kiss your forehead before he dropped your hand, moving over to see your baby. 
“Congratulations guys, it’s a boy,” the doctor exclaimed and you let out a soft laugh. Colson had wanted a baby boy, you both had chosen not to know the gender and you looked over to see the excitement on his face. 
“Here mom, why don’t you hold him,” the nurse said, gently picking up your baby from the bassinet. You reached out as she put him into your arms. He was so warm, small body, mouth twisting as he let out another cry. His eyes were a murky blue and you looked up at the love of your life, staring at you both from across the bed with his own blue eyes. There were tears gathering and he reached up to wipe his own away before you murmured, “Come here.”
“Fuck, I’m so happy right now. I love you Y/N. I love you so much,” he whispered as he stood closer next to you, reaching out a hand to put on your baby boy. 
“I love you,” you mumbled back and you turned your head up just a little to give him a kiss. Your baby let out another cry and you sighed, resting your forehead on Colson’s shoulder. 
“I guess he doesn’t like that too much,” you joked and you felt Colson shake with laughter. Your little family had just grown by one, and nothing could have felt better than holding your baby boy in your arms with your boyfriend right by your side.
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Lost Time
Chris becomes your temporary roommate. You think all he sees you as is a little sister, but when the rest of the world starts to notice how close you are, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more there.
-
           “You look like you’ve been through hell,” you pointed out as Chris took a seat in the makeup trailer beside you. His makeup artist was on the way, and he looked like he needed it. His eyes were exhausted, his body was slumped over slightly, and you could tell that his head had nothing in it.
           “Yeah, you’re telling me,” he sighed. “The house flooded last night in that storm. Insurance guys have been there since sunrise.”
           “Ouch,” you responded.
           “And they said it’ll be a week before they can get me back in there. If not longer.”
           “You can stay with me,” you volunteered. He scoffed, rubbing his eyes. “Really, Chris. I have a guest bedroom that I don’t even use. Don’t pay for a hotel or something. I’m right down the street, too.” He looked at you, thinking you were joking, but you weren’t. You were completely serious.
           “Are you sure?”
           “Yeah. Just take my key and get settled in since you finish before me today.” You reached for your key ring and handed him the apartment key. This was a definite role reversal; it was usually Chris that was taking care of you, making sure you ate, helping you move furniture around or helping you fix your car, because you were all but his little sister when it came to things like that. But this time, he needed you, and you’d be there.
           “Thanks, Y/n,” he said. “You’re a lifesaver.” You looked at the time and saw you were due back on set, so you stood up and walked out of the trailer. You sent Chris your address, even though you knew he already had it, and the code to get into the apartment complex. He said he was heading over soon so you just went on about your day.
           When you got home that afternoon he was already settled in – you could see that he’d brought a few bags over, just enough to get him through until he could go home again, and he was cooking in the kitchen you’d used a total of three or four times.
           “I honestly didn’t even know that oven worked,” you remarked as you saw him pre-heating it. You were only half joking. “What are you making?”
           “Lasagna. I got groceries. I figured the least I can do is cook for you.”
           “Why didn’t I get another roommate?” You wondered out loud. Chris chuckled. “I’m going to take a shower.” You went into your bathroom and took a shower, then headed back out to the kitchen.
           “You really need some more plates,” Chris said as he watched you emerge from your bedroom. “And some silverware that isn’t plastic. And you should probably have more than one pan, too.” You rolled your eyes.
           “I’m 22, Chris, people in my generation don’t cook. I have three plates, that’s enough.”
           “People in mine do,” he replied, “and while I’m here you will never starve.”
           “My hero.” You reached into the fridge to see that he had gotten groceries, and that most of them would be absolutely no use to you after he left. He had gotten you some more beer, thankfully, and you grabbed two of them. You’d had a long day of stunts and the only thing you wanted was some food and alcohol.
           You set the table with two sets of plastic everything, further proving Chris’s point that you needed to get some real silverware, and helped him bring the food over. You talked mostly about his house and the fact that it was a few thousand dollars worth of damage, but luckily he’d gotten home in time to move the more valuable stuff up to the second floor. He had just picked out his backsplash three months ago and was having to do it all over again. You felt bad, really bad.
           “I’m sorry I’m being such a bummer,” he said as he handed you a plate to start washing in the sink. Conveniently, your dishwasher was broken. “But thanks for letting me stay here. It means a lot.” He gave you a little smile and you just made it a point to hit his shoulder with yours.
           “That’s what friends do,” you said with a shrug. You finished doing the dishes and with a friendly hug, he was excusing himself. “By the way, the water knobs in your bathroom are switched. Use the cold for hot and hot for cold. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed.” He shrugged.
           “I’ll take a look at it over the weekend. Thanks.” He put a hand on your back and you watched as he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You finished putting the leftovers up for lunch tomorrow, putting the few clean dishes you had away, and went to bed on your own.
           You quickly grew used to having Chris around. You had someone to drive to and from with, you had someone to watch stupid movies with, and you had someone to cook dinner. It was nice. Really nice. So nice that even when he was able to go back to his house, he stayed with you an extra nice. And then he asked you if you wanted to split hotels during the press tour, since most of your interviews were scheduled together, and of course you said yes. You loved hanging out with him. And as you did, you slowly realized that you had a crush on him. You knew he obviously didn’t feel the same way about you, and you definitely weren’t going to confront him about it. You assumed he just saw you as a little sister – that’s what you really would be, anyway, with such a dramatic age gap. So when he came out in just a towel your first night there, you couldn’t help but scan up and down his chest as he reached for clothes in his bag. You just kept scrolling through your phone, looking at some of your mentions on Twitter.
           “Good news and bad news,” you said eventually as he finally emerged from the bathroom for the last time.
           “Ooh, do tell. Bad news first.”
           “Bad news is that I didn’t realize how bad the zit on my chin was until someone posted about it,” you started. He chuckled. “And the good news is that the internet loves our friendship and wants to see the rest of the press tour.”
           “What, were you worried about it?” You shook your head.
           “Not really, no. I think we’re friends.” Chris smiled at you, his award-winning, nominated for the sexiest man alive smile, and took a little bit too long to answer you.
           “Besties, right?” You rolled your eyes.
           “Are you done in the bathroom?”
           “Yep.” You stood up, only realizing that your shorts were shorter now that you’d been sitting, and they literally exposed almost your entire ass. But Chris wasn’t looking, thankfully, so you didn’t mention it. You just shoved the shorts in the bottom of your bag the next day, hoping they wouldn’t make an appearance.
           You and Chris only continued to get closer over the course of the press tour – you would gradually sit close to each other until his arm was around your shoulder during interviews, or he would always put a hand on your back to let you walk in front of him. He would always introduce you to interviewers first, or let you get into the car first. He brought you coffee and he knew exactly how you liked it, and if you tried to Venmo him for it he would just give it right back. The last interview of the press tour was a night on Jimmy Fallon, and it was safe to say that you were nervous as hell.
           “You’re going to be fine,” Chris said to you as the stage assistants hooked a microphone to his waist. “You look beautiful. And you’re a natural, you’ll be fine up there.” You looked down at the heels you were wearing. They were far too expensive to be your own, but you liked them. They made you almost tall enough to touch Chris’s shoulders without standing on your toes.
           “I’m just so nervous still,” you replied, “I’ve never done a talk show before.” Chris walked over to you when they finished him and pulled you in for a quick hug.
           “You’re gonna do amazing. Just look at me if you need help, okay? We went over most of the questions earlier in the car, remember?” You nodded. His large hand splayed across your back, trying to make you feel better. “You want me to hold your hand on the way out?”
           “Chris!” You laughed.
           “I’m serious!”
           “CHRIS EVANS, Y/N, ON IN A MINUTE! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE STAGE!” The intercom said loudly. Chris offered you his hand, and you took it. He walked beside you, not in front of you or behind you, and that was your first indication that maybe you weren’t crazy and maybe he liked you too. He held your hand all the way until you were walking on stage, when he just smiled at you and said you’d be fine. He let you go first, and like you had in interviews before, you ended up so close to him that his arm was behind you on the couch.
           “You two are kind of mortal enemies to begin with in the movie, do you think that speaks true to your relationship at all when you were filming?”
           “Oh, God, no,” Chris replied, “from the moment I met her I knew she was going to be one of my favorite people. And my house actually flooded a couple months ago so we were temporary roomies there and we’ve been together on the press tour mostly just because it’s so much cheaper and easier on the studio, so I’d say we’re pretty good friends.” Jimmy smiled.
           “Well, now that you think you’re pretty good friends, I’ve actually got a game for you. Chris, you’ve played this before, only you knew it as Know Your Bro. For the two of you, Y/n, if I could just get you to put these headphones on…” You aced the game, as you expected, and Chris only got one question wrong. It finally ended and as soon as you got back to the hotel you were staying at, you passed out. And you woke up the next morning, the morning of the premiere, to a million or so Tweets and tagged posts.
           You rolled over to see that Chris was still in bed, scrolling on his phone. He smiled when he saw you.
           “I’m Postmating some coffee in, do you want the usual?”
           “Thank you.” You sat up a little, starting to go through your phone. Oh, no. People really took what Chris said to heart. As in, they thought you were together. The entire world thought you were together, citing multiple interviews, the way Chris was always holding you somehow, the way he was always talking about you, and what he’d said last night on Fallon. Even your sister texted you asking if you were dating.
           “Oh, my God,” you said out loud.
           “What?” He asked.
           “People think we’re together.”
           “Yeah, I figured that might happen. Just ignore it and we’ll say something about it tonight at the premiere, alright?”
           “Chris, you’re literally my date to the premiere.” He shrugged.
           “So? Let people think what they wanna think. And, besides, would it really be that bad to pretend like we’re dating? You’re breakin’ my heart here.” You laughed.
           “No, I guess not.” Chris’s phone chimed about the coffee.
           “I’ll be back up in a minute.” Chris got back with the coffee, handing you yours, and you watched a quick episode of what was on TV before starting to get ready. You were being put in separate suites at a different hotel to get ready, and you had to admit that you were having not only regular anxiety but separation anxiety. It was the first time you’d been without Chris to tell you to calm down in months. And he evidently couldn’t stay away, either, because he made an excuse to bring you another coffee before they started on your makeup.
           “Thank you so much,” you said as he handed it to you. You made grabby hands toward it until the straw was in your mouth and you were tasting the sweetness of the milk and espresso mixed together.
           “Anything for you. I’ll pick you up at six and we can walk down together,” he said. “I’ll see you then, sweetheart, alright?” You nodded, smiling, and with a wink he left the room and you were alone. You couldn’t help but squeal on the inside. You knew there was still no way he probably liked you the way that you liked him, and the way that the internet seemed to think he did, but you were still giddy. You loved spending time with him, even if it didn’t count as a date. You met him outside the hotel suite at the exact time he told you to – and, like you’d picked out previously, your dress matched his suit. If this didn’t fuel the rumors, nothing would.
           “You look so gorgeous,” he said as he approached you, smiling at you as he looked at your dress.
           “You look pretty handsome yourself,” you responded. He did. His beard was finally tamed, his jacket and pants a burgundy velvet that matched the color of pink you were wearing. “Shall we?”
           “We shall.” He took your arm and pressed the button for the elevator. He helped you in, too, making sure you didn’t slip on your dress train or the heels that were far too high for you. The elevator was ridiculously slow to shut the doors back, so much so that Chris had pressed the button to get the doors to close. “This elevator hates us,” he said.
           “Yeah, it was doing that earlier,” you replied. The doors finally creaked shut and you could feel it starting to move. You stood toward the back, in case someone else got on, and Chris was looking through his phone. And then the elevator stopped. Just stopped. Just straight up fucking stopped.
           “Oh, no,” Chris said quietly. He pushed the emergency stop button, then the call button. The hotel confirmed that the elevator was stuck, and that they’d call someone to help get them out.
           “Oh, God,” you sighed. “This is the worst thing that could have possibly happened. We’re going to be late to our own movie, and then people will probably think something else happened, and then…” Chris looked back at you.
           “Why are you so stressed out about what other people think of us?” You shrugged, blushing, and realized that the air in the elevator was much colder than the rest of the hotel. Chris must have noticed, because before you even answered he was putting his jacket around your shoulders.
           “Because,” you sighed, “I just do, okay?” He looked you up and down before shaking his head.
           “I don’t believe you. There’s another reason.” You looked at him and then looked away again, looking down at the carpet on the floor.
           “Because I don’t want you to think that there’s any truth to it. Because it would basically be career suicide for you and I don’t want to do that to you.” He scoffed.
           “Career suicide? What? It doesn’t matter if we’re friends or we’re dating, that has absolutely nothing to do with anything.”
           “But it does. I’m 22, Chris, I’m basically still a kid, and it doesn’t matter if I have a crush on you or not. It just matters that the rest of the world would judge you and me and they already do and I just…” You sighed, watching as realization took over his face.
           “That’s why you care so much,” he understood. “Because you like me.”
           “No, I…”
           “Don’t try and turn it around now, you already said something so now we have to talk about it.”
           “Or we could just forget about it. Because it could ruin things, and that’s why I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to lose you as a friend.”
           “What if I don’t care if it ruined anything?” He asked. You looked up at him, tilting your head to the side. “What if I like you? Did you ever think that might be a possibility?”
           “No, not really,” you admitted. “Because you’re… You.”
           “And you’re you. And what if I want the world to think we’re together because I want to be together and I just didn’t know how to tell you because I was terrified it would ruin everything?” Your heart sank a little. Did he really think that? All this time?
           “We really wasted all that time, didn’t we?” You asked. He nodded, a little smile coming over his face. “I’m sorry, Chris. I was so stupid.”
           “No, Y/n, I was the stupid one.” He walked forward to you, closing the distance between you, and looked down at you. The elevator call was still on, you realized, and whoever was on the line could hear you. You cocked your head at it.
           “Mr. Evans, the elevator will be manually brought down to the first floor in the next few minutes.”
           “Thank you,” Chris said. The call cut off, this time actually leaving you with Chris and only Chris. His eyes turned back to you. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
           “Then why aren’t you doing it? We have to make up for lost time, remember?” He smiled, taking the edges of the jacket that he’d wrapped around your shoulders, and pulled you into a kiss. Your characters had kissed in the movie, once, but this was different. He actually meant this. His lips were rough but soft at the same time, and you realized you would have to stop before his beard brushed against your skin any more.
           “Makeup,” you reminded him as he pulled away.
           “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You took his hands in yours as you felt the elevator start moving again. “So what do you say you be my actual date? Dinner after the movie? And we can give this thing a try?”
           “Of course.” His lips pressed against your forehead as the elevator moved so slowly that you could barely feel it. By the time the doors opened, he let you out of the elevator first, hand on your back like he always did. This time, it was slightly more confident as he led you out to the limo.
A/N: I hereby volunteer myself to get stuck in an elevator with Chris Evans. I hope you guys like this as much as I do!
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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years
Text
Can’t Go Back Part 11
A/N: Next chapter is here. This one has some angst. I expected dinner to go longer but the angst felt like it needed to take precedent. There is a slight time jump about half way through the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated!  Trigger warning alcohol abuse. implied drunk driving. 
I was up early again the next morning to start getting things ready for dinner. The counter quickly became a picture of organized chaos. I had ingredients for dessert out on the island, waiting to be made into my mum’s favourite cake. Monty woke up a while later and after a cup of coffee, was ready to help me cook. “Morning love.” I greeted after he finished his coffee.
“Morning you.” He kissed my forehead softly. “What do you need help with first?”
“Can you grab the mushrooms and plastic wrap please? I’m getting ready to start heating the pan for the meat up now.”
“Sure thing. What am I doing with them?”
“Blitzing them.” I stated. Looking up from my cake recipe, I bit my lip to hold back a laugh. He looks so confused. It’s adorable.
“What now? Also don’t do that.”
“Blitzing them. In the food processor until they’re chopped small. Don’t do what?” I asked, coyly, pushing his very pushable buttons.
“You know exactly what. Don’t think I’m not taking note of all these tests missy. It’s going to be a very long day for you in a few weeks.”
“Oh I’m counting on you noting.” I muttered under my breath. He growled lowly and I whimpered. “Mushrooms mister. That’s what you need to be concerned with. Not sex.”
“The mushrooms can wait a few minutes.”
“We can’t have sex and I’m not giving you a blowjob in the kitchen.” I told him as I moved to the stove to turn on the heat.
“I didn’t say anything about blowjobs or the kitchen Addison.”
I paused. Insufferable. “You are such a little shit. Sit down and blitz my mushrooms.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Don’t ever call me that again. It’s too domme-y for me.”
Monty laughed and muttered a retort under his breath. Ignoring his sexual comment and the ever-present sexual tension, I set about getting the cake batter ready.
While the cake was in the oven, I set about searing the meat and getting the prosciutto ready for wrapping. I could feel Monty’s eyes on me as I worked. He gave me the bowl of the food processor and I dumped them into a dry pan, as per the recipe instructions. The meat was seared off and resting on a plate. Everything was going according to plan. I had Monty slather the tenderloin in mustard and wrap it tightly again. “Now it sits in the fridge for a while.”
“I can think of many things we can do to occupy our time.” He smirked, cheekily at me.
“Montgomery. No.”
“Okay, okay. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” I grinned at him and walked around the island, over to the laundry closet.
“You can help me fold laundry instead.”
“Oh joy.” He rolled his eyes playfully. I giggled at him and he smiled. Together, we went about folding the laundry on our bed and organizing it into the appropriate drawers. He made the odd lude comment on my underwear and I simply shook my head. My man and his one-track mind.
Once the laundry was folded, we set the table and got a few more dinner elements ready to be cooked. Mom loves mashed garlic potatoes, so I tossed some garlic in oil and roasted it. Soon, the whole house smelled like the sweet aroma of roasted garlic. I had Monty man the vegetables while I went and changed into my red sweater dress. He changed into a dressier flannel and crisp white t-shirt. How can one man make white look so nice? We spent the rest of the day taking care of minor household things and enjoying each other’s company.
My parents arrived at five, with salad in hand. Dad must have told her we were having food. “Hey Mum, hey Dad.” I called from my place at the island. I lit a cinnamon candle a few minutes ago to cover the garlic smell.
“Hi sweetie. Where’s my favourite son-in-law?” Mom joked.
“Right here. Hi Margot. Happy birthday.” Monty greeted her, exiting our room and balancing his crutches to hug her. “Hey Brooks.” He greeted my dad.
“Hey Monty.  How’s the leg feeling? Hey Addy.” My dad asked, hanging up their coats before walking over and giving me a side hug. It was still kind of awkward for my dad to hug me, but I smiled and hugged him back.
“Meh. It’s feeling okay. The pain comes and goes.”
“It feels better when he actually uses his crutches and rests.” I teased playfully.
“Yes dear.” He shot back. I shook my head, smiling, and got the waiting wellington out of the fridge. The oven beeped as I closed the door and put it in.
“Happy birthday mom.”
“Thank you. It smells delicious.”
“Beef wellington and garlic mashed potatoes with steamed assorted carrots.”
“My favourite.” She smiled.
“Babe would you mind filling a pot with water for the potatoes?”
“Sure.” I nodded and went about peeling the potatoes. “Salt?”
“Yes please. Oh, and Justin says happy birthday too mom.”
“Tell him thank you for me.”
“I will.”
The four of us spent the half hour while dinner cooked and rested, chatting about our weeks. Dinner was fairly uneventful, but delicious. Mum loved her new pumpkin vanilla candle and chocolate strawberry tea. Dad and I continued to try and navigate our new relationship. All in all, it was a nice way to end a weekend.
A couple of weeks later, Montgomery was given the all clear to begin physio by Dr. Marcus. Thankfully for both of us, that also meant he was cleared to begin to foray back into “physical intimacy”. Nothing too crazy yet. Yeah right. That’ll last maybe one round. It seemed that he was more excited to get to drive home than to have sex for the first time in weeks. In addition to sex, he was also able to give up the crutches for the most part. It was only if there was a particularly intense physio session, he would use them. He still wasn’t cleared to play sports, nor would he be for quite some time.
Even with not being able to actually play ball, being one step closer to that goal, seemed to help bring him back to normal a bit. Everything was going great for a week or two. He would go to physio three times a week and do his assigned exercises without complaint. He made sure not to push himself too hard. He didn’t stay out very late on game nights, and when he did, he would call or text me to let me know he was okay and on his way home.
I woke up to the sound of something crashing to the floor. In my half-sleeping state, I reached out to Montgomery’s side of the bed and found it cold. Feeling my nerves grow at being alone in the house, I checked the alarm clock beside the bed. 2:24am. I gulped and got out of bed, grabbing one of Monty’s sweaters to wear and the baseball bat he kept next to the dresser. I’ll never give him crap for keeping a bat next to the bed again.
Walking out of our room, I turned a corner and heard a very familiar voice. Monty was standing in the living room, muttering curse words to himself. I lowered the bat and turned on the lamp, causing him to jump, trying to hide what he had broken behind him. I could tell he was wasted just by looking at him. He had to hold on to the wall to keep himself upright. I set my face stoically and stared at him for a moment. It was then that I saw what he had broken. It was the framed photo on our side table, of us on our wedding day. Now I’m a little more upset. “It’s 2:30 in the morning.” I stated with my arms folded at my chest. He didn’t respond. Instead, he looked at me with an odd mixture of surprise and guilt. I shook my head and pivoted around to go back to bed, but not before firmly shutting the bedroom door.
The next morning, I woke up and got ready as usual. I walked out to the kitchen and did a double take at what I was witnessing. Shockingly, Monty was up and dressed in clean clothes already. He even had a cup of coffee to drink. I didn’t hear him come in our room. “Morning.” He said, from his seat at the table. He didn’t appear to be nursing that bad of a hangover, shockingly. Still mad, I ignored him, making myself a cup of coffee and getting my bag together for school. I didn’t spare the side table a glance, knowing that if I did, I would snap. His eyes followed my every move, probably internally begging me to speak to him.
“I’m meeting with my English teacher before class so I’m leaving now.” was all I said to him before I left the house.
I left the meeting with Mr. Luft about a recommendation letter in better spirits than when I left the house. It was a short-lived feeling because I spotted Monty brooding from across the hall. I knew he was waiting for me because he had neither a locker nor a class in this building at this time. My anger came back in full force when I saw him. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I walked straight past him. He followed close behind, hot on my heels. “Addy can we please talk about this?” I didn’t respond. He sighed gruffly, “can you say anything at all to me?” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see my face. When we were away from students, in a less crowded area of the building, he tried again. “Addison, please?”
“I’m not fighting with you in public.” I told him, not turning around.
“We don’t have to fight in public. Will you please just say something about what happened? Are you really this upset about the fact that I broke a picture frame?” Upset that he… seriously? That’s what he thinks this is about? I mean, I’m upset that its broken, but it can be replaced. I’m upset because he came home drunk… again. I’m upset because he didn’t even text me to let me know he wasn’t coming home for a while, if it all. I’m not upset because of a goddamn picture frame.
“Don’t bother coming home tonight.” I ground out before walking away.
My friends were surprised when I walked over to their table at lunch and put my bag down, rather aggressively. “Hey Addy.” Tony greeted.
“Hey.” I replied, trying to keep the shortness out of my tone.
“How’re you?” Alex asked, digging around in his lunch bag.
“Fine. But let’s not talk about me. How are you guys?”
“Right. Fine. Uh… I’m good.” Justin said, giving me a cursory glance.
“I’m good too. Justin learned not to throw food at me in bed this morning.” Clay added.
“Justin don’t throw food at your brother. It’s rude.” I told him, shaking my head.
“Or keep doing it so we can give Clay a hard time about it, your choice.” Alex laughed. We carried on for a while, my friends bringing a smile and some light to what had started as a very gloomy day. The light shifted again when Scott approached our table.
“Addison, can we talk for a minute?”
“About?” I asked casually, as I dipped my cucumber in salsa.
“Why Monty is eating fruit snacks, fruit snacks, and sadness for lunch?”
“I had a meeting this morning.”
“Okay. What about the fact that he said you told him not to come home tonight?” he implored. My friends froze.
“Yes.” I stated.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to discuss it with you. It’s our business.”
“Addy. He’s my best friend and he is upset. It is my business.”
“What happened Addison?” Justin asked, reaching across the table for my hand.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I muttered, feeling like I was being backed into a corner and struggling to find my way out. I pulled my hand out of Justin’s reach. He’s the one who screwed up here. Not me. Stop making me feel like garbage for needing some space for one day. Scott shook his head, in disbelief.
“Well you’re going to have to talk to him. You’re stuck together now. Or did you forget about the whole ‘better or worse’ part of your vows?”
That got my anger going again. “I am not discussing my marriage with you Scott Reed. Especially not in a room full of people who are just counting the days until we decide we made a mistake and file for divorce. This is an issue between my husband and me. Not my husband, me, and my husband’s best friend. And never insinuate that I do not take my vows seriously again.” I whisper-yelled, standing to walk away. Justin stood up too.
“I just want to help. He’s my best friend and you’re my friend.”
“You can help by giving him a place to crash tonight.” I said, walking away.
Justin followed behind me with my bag, which I left at the table in my haste to get away from the situation. He pulled me into an empty classroom, and I felt hot, angry, sad tears fill my eyes.
“What happened Addy?”
I tried to respond but all that would come out were gasps and squeaks. Justin pulled me into his arms and embraced me while I cried in his chest. The frustration of the last thirteen hours had finally reared its head and I couldn’t stop the floodgates from opening. A knock on the door made me remember where we were, and I stepped away from my best friend. Scott opened the door a bit and poked his head in the room.
“Can we talk about this now?”
I didn’t respond but Justin waved him in the room and motioned for him to shut the door. We stared at each other for a solid three minutes before I spoke, “I told you I’m not discussing my marriage with you Scott.”
“If he is going to spend the night in my parents’ guest room, I think I deserve to know what actually happened to cause it.”
“What did he tell you?” I asked, sighing.
“That he broke the picture from your wedding last night. But you wouldn’t be this mad about a picture frame, so there has to be more to the story.”
I laughed humourlessly. “Yeah. Try ‘broke it this morning’ when he came home at 2:30 so wasted he could barely hold himself up. And couldn’t call or send me a fucking text message that he would be out late. I was up until 12:30 worrying about him, when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.” The boys gaped at me. “Left that part out, did he?”
“Uh… yeah. He did.” Scott paused briefly. “I thought you guys talked about the occasionally overdrinking. And it was basically a non-issue now.”
“It was until last night.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Justin offered. “From what you’ve said I don’t think he’s an alcoholic by any means, and NA is different than AA, but the basics are the same.”
“I don’t know. I think I need to talk to him first and see if he will tell me what’s going on. This can’t become a thing.”
“A thing?” Scott asked.
“What is the one thing Monty is afraid of aside from me leaving him?”
Scott thought for a moment. “Becoming his da-. Oh. Yeah that can’t happen.”
“Exactly. So, I will talk to him tomorrow about it when he comes home. In the meantime, try to keep him occupied please? I don’t need him spiralling and making things worse.”
“I will. Might have to give him hell first though.”
“Okay. As his wife, I give you permission to do that.” He hugged me before leaving Justin and I on our own.
“Do you want me to come over tonight to keep you company? We can watch stupid movies.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I think I need to be alone to think for a while.” I hugged him, “thank you. I’ll text you or call you if I need you.”
“You’re welcome. If you need me to come over, I will. Just say the word.” I nodded as I pulled out my compact. My makeup didn’t look too bad considering I had cried. Taking out a tissue, I wiped underneath my eyes and touched up a little bit. Just as I finished, the bell rang.
Coming home to an empty house wasn’t unusual, what with Monty’s sports schedule and other things in our lives, but there was something different about this time. I told him not to be here. I didn’t want him here. He wasn’t in our home because of me. For some reason, that made the house feel a little colder and a little less like home tonight. “Well, I guess I should make myself some food or something.” I muttered into the quiet house. Working quickly, I whipped up a pita pizza and some veggies, before opening up my laptop to work on some more essays.
A few long, lonely hours later, I turned off my computer and went to change. Unconsciously, I went into Monty’s dresser and grabbed a shirt to sleep in, along with a pair of my softer pyjama bottoms. Curling up in my spot on the couch, I turned on the tv and checked my phone. Justin texted me about an hour ago, as had Scott. There was a couple of apologies from Monty that I ignored. Seemed pretty clear that I didn’t want to talk to him but sure. I swiped to open Justin’s text first.
Hey Addy. Just checking in to see how you’re doing. Do you need anything? This is me reminding you not to work on your essays for too long and not overthink too much. I love you.
Hey, I’m okay. A little lonely but I think I need it tbh. I’ll try not to think too much, but we both know how my brain works. Scott’s texts were next.
We got home safe. Mom and Dad are a little concerned about him but other than that, it’s all good. I’m still giving him hell for you.
Thanks Scott. Make sure he eats something of actual nutritional value please. Monty’s texts remained unopened.
I eventually turned my attention to the end table and the broken picture frame. Carefully picking it up, I examined it. The frame itself had broken in two places and the glass was shattered. Thankfully, the photo was still intact. “Time to dig through our stuff for a new frame.” Finding one was easy enough. They were on sale a while ago at IKEA, so we bought a bunch. Soon the picture was back in its rightful place on the table. At least one part of this mess was taken care of.
By ten thirty, I was ready to go to sleep and forget about the stress of the day. I went about the ninety-seven thousand things I do before bed as usual. I crawled into the large, cool bed and curled up in the same position I usually did, in an attempt to help myself fall asleep. It turns out, sleep wasn’t going to be easy to come by. I rolled onto my back, and then onto my side. When those positions weren’t comfortable, I rolled onto my stomach and then back to the other side. I tried turning Monty’s pillow longways so I could cuddle it. It smelled like him, which was nice, but it was too soft and didn’t move like he was breathing. I put the pillow back in its normal position and tried to stretch out. That didn’t help either. You know where he is. It’s not like he’s in danger. You can go to sleep. He is safe. Just sleep. The tossing and turning and racing thoughts went on for at least another few hours, before I decided I needed to take a sleeping pill. I had to get enough sleep, in order to deal with the argument that would most likely occur tomorrow.
I was awake at the ungodly hour of six am on a Saturday, lying in bed, trying in vain to get at least a couple more hours of sleep. By six thirty I gave up on that plan. I dragged myself out of bed and made a very large, very strong, cup of coffee. Deciding it was probably time to bite the bullet and read Monty’s various apologies, I took a deep breath and opened his messages.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I screwed up Addison.
Please don’t be mad at me. I love you.
I love you.
Please talk to me. I know I fucked up, but this silence is killing me.
Addison. Baby. Please.
I need you.
Please just tell me how to fix this?
Addy, please talk to me. I’m really fucking sorry.
Okay, Scott says if I don’t stop texting you and go to bed, he’s throwing my phone in the garbage. I love you and I’m still sorry. I couldn’t stop the urge to roll my eyes at the string of pleases. He made no mention of what he actually did. I sent him a quick text, knowing he wouldn’t answer at this hour.
We will talk at home. Tell Scott and his family thank you for letting you stay there for me. With that arduous task completed, I puttered around the house, tidying the nonexistent mess.
I was lounging on the couch, reading a book, when I heard the door unlock. I didn’t look up until I had finished my page and Montgomery cleared his throat. “Hi.” He greeted me, awkwardly.
“Hi.” We were silent for a few beats. Neither of us knew what to say to each other. I turned to look at him. He was looking around the room, anywhere but at me. I felt a small tinge of regret and pity at the uncomfortable look crossing his features. You have nothing to be sorry for. He is at fault here.
“Can you just say something so we can get this over with?”
Get this ov- seriously? “Depends. Can you act like an adult take responsibility for your actions?”
“Oh, so that’s how you want to start this?”
“I guess so, yeah.” I shrugged, standing up.
“I don’t see why you are so upset Addison-.”
“I swear to God Montgomery. If you say a word about the picture frame.”
“Scott already gave me shit for fucking up last night.”
“Oh! Okay, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you say something before? Clearly, we have nothing to discuss here, since Scott fucking Reed already talked to you about it?” I yelled, throwing my arms up for dramatic effect. “Do you even understand why I’m upset?”
“He’s my best friend. I listen to him. Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry I screwed up Addison.”
I blinked slowly at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or not. “You listen to Scott? Because I’m almost certain it wasn’t Scott that had no issue with you getting so drunk you could hardly stand on a Thursday night.”
“Seriously Addison? You are going to bring your issues with Bryce into this?”
“I never said that. You did. But sure, since apparently you can’t take responsibility for what you did, yeah. I’m going to bring Bryce into this, Montgomery.”
“It was one night Addison.”
“This time. This time it was one night. What about next time? Or the time after that?”  
“It’s not a big deal. What are you going to do, tell me I can’t be friends with him? He’s my brother.”
“I am your WIFE. I am your family. You need to realize your actions affect more than just you now.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He crossed his arms.
“I don’t want to tell you that you can’t. That is something you can decide on your own.”
“That’s you politely saying yes.”
“No, it isn’t. If you want to take it that way, you can. Are you ready to discuss the real issue now? I don’t put even a quarter of the blame on Bryce.”
“Mhmm. Sure, you don’t.” He muttered, aggressively.
“You decided to get wasted at a party. You decided not to let me know where you were, or if you were okay, or if you were coming home. You decided to drive home.”
“I didn’t realize you needed to know where I was at all times.”
“I don’t.”
“Really? Because it sure as shit seems like it.”
“Sorry for wanting to know if my husband was okay or not.” I yelled.
“You knew I was at Bryce’s. I was fine.”
“Fine? If you think this is fine, you need to re-evaluate that idea really fast. You could barely stand up. It’s a wonder you didn’t get pulled over or hit anything. Or anyone.”
“I didn’t. I got home in one piece and everything was fine. Until you decided to throw a hissy fit about it. And newsflash, my leg is fucked, so I can barely stand up to begin with.”
“It is not fine Monty.”
“You keep saying that but aren’t giving me a reason or explanation why.”
“You mean aside from the obvious?”
“Yeah.”
“You need to realize that it isn’t just you anymore. You need to understand that you have a family to be concerned about now. I get that it’s not something you are used to, but you do.”
He scoffed. “I understand that perfectly well Addison.”
“Do you though? Because I don’t think you do. You don’t act like you do.”
“Because I went out with my friends for a night? You are going to question my commitment to you because of one night?”
“No. I’m not questioning your commitment to me. And I have no problem with you going out with your friends. I have an issue with you coming home drunk off your ass. Again. I have an issue with the fact that you do it and then we talk about it and then you go on like everything is fine for a while. And then you do it again.”
“It’s not like I do it all the time. Don’t make it sound like I’m just coming home drunk every night.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying that this is becoming a pattern. A pattern that I, for one, am not okay with.”
Monty stared at me incredulously. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, catching sight of the replaced frame on the end table. “I see you fixed your precious photo. So, there is no reason to be mad anymore.” He muttered just loud enough for me to hear.
“Seriously? It was never about the goddamn picture frame. It was about you. Do you honestly think I would make you spend the night at your friend’s house over a picture frame breaking?”
“I don’t know Addison.”
“Well clearly we aren’t going to get anywhere today then. Since you can’t seem to accept that your actions have consequences, and I can’t force you to understand my point.” I shook my head. I couldn’t keep going around in circles with him. If he wasn’t ready to have a mature discussion about this, then there was no point in trying.
“I guess not.” He said.
There was nothing more to be said anymore, so I walked back to the coffee table from the kitchen, where we had ended up in our fighting. Grabbing my book and phone, I stalked past him, half hoping he would reach out and grab me to apologise. When he didn’t, I went back into our room and closed the door. I went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. Instead, when I shut the door, I slid down to the floor and laid my head on my knees. My tears left little dots on my leggings and stains down my cheeks. Luckily, I was able to hold back any sobs that tried to break through.
After a while, I could hear Monty in our room. It sounded like he was opening and closing drawers. For a moment, I could hear him breathing on the other side of the door. It was like he was trying to decide to knock or not. I held my breath. A moment later, I heard his footsteps pad away from the door. Roughly an hour or so later, I decided I had hidden in my own home long enough. I stood up and splashed my face with cool water. I quickly changed into a pair of dark sweatpants and a comfortable t-shirt, with my favourite grey cardigan over top.
“I’m going out.” I stated as I walked out of our room and grabbed my purse.
“K.” Monty replied, not bothering to up from the playbook he was reading on the couch. I raised my brows sadly at his lack of response. My drive to Justin’s place was unusually silent. I normally drove with the radio on or AUX connected. I parked in front of the house and walked around back. I knocked on his door firmly a couple of times. While I waited, I unconsciously wrapped my arms around myself protectively. Justin opened the door not long after. He took one look at me trying not to cry and curling in on myself and stiffened.
“Clay, get out.”
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itisannak · 4 years
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Home (Ashton Irwin Angst/Fluff)
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Summary: (Y/N) has been acting a bit strangely, so Ashton is baffled... Until he finds out. (This story contains content that might be triggering. It contains mentions of abuse, physical and emotional.) (Request) (Words: 1.8k) (Could you be home )
The first time Ashton noticed something was off with (Y/N) was the first time she stayed at his place. Ashton was cooking and (Y/N) wanted to help, so he asked her to set the table, handed her some plates from the cabinets, and went back to mindlessly stirring the sauce that was bubbling in the pan. Mindlessly, until he heard a shutter and a gasp from the dining room.
He rushed there, only to find (Y/N) shaking over the broken plate, crying as she tried to pick up the pieces. "I am sorry. I am so sorry." She kept repeating, over and over again, avoiding looking at him. "Hey, it's ok..." He said as he knelt down next to her to take the sharp pieces from her, but she jolted back as he tried to touch her wrist. His voice was soothing, but (Y/N) could only remember her mother's poisonous words the last time this happened. "Hey, darling. Leave them on the floor, I'll bring a broom to pick that up." He suggested, but (Y/N) was shaken to her core. "Baby, it's ok. It's just a plate, nothing to worry about." Ashton was finally able to pry the shards away, while his girlfriend sobbed silently. "Come on, let's get you away from the glasses. We don't want you cutting yourself with those pieces." He helped her up, picking her and carrying her to the kitchen island, letting her sit on top of it as he swept away the broken plate. The rest of the night went on silently, the tension in the room thick, but Ashton didn't think much into it.
Then there was the time they got into a fight; Ashton couldn't even remember what started it, but it ended with (Y/N) trembling and hiding in the corner as if she was afraid of him actually hurting her. And she was; he was physically her superior and his voice getting louder was triggering for her. But Ashton could and would never hurt her; not her, not anyone. Ashton tried all he could but he was not able to get the picture of her being scared of him. The way her eyes stared at him, the way her lip quivered, and how she was silently pleading for him not to hurt her. He didn't want to experience anything like that again.
Of course, the fact that she had never invited him to her house, that she didn't even let him park anywhere near her place every time he dropped her off, was something also peculiar. In the beginning, he thought little of it; maybe she didn't want her parents to see them this early on in their relationship. But they have been together for months, and she has yet to even suggest a meeting.
The last straw was the nightmare he had one night. (Y/N) had been distant and not answering his texts, returning his calls. She even canceled their last few dates for petty reasons. He went to bed one night, and his sleep was filled with the worst images; (Y/N) hurting and him trying to get to her but failing every time. He woke up sweating and gasping for air, his instinct kicking in as he reached for his phone and looked for her contact. It rang and rang and rang, and (Y/N) rejected every call.
She was curled up on the small couch in her room, crying as she saw how persistent her boyfriend was. She knew if she picked up the phone, if he heard her voice, he would understand that something was wrong with her. But the constant ringing, the fact that he was simply not giving up, made her pick up the phone, just to stop him from calling over and over again. "I need to see you." It was the first thing she heard the minute the line went live. "Are you crazy? It's nearly 2 in the morning." She whispered, praying on the inside she wouldn't be heard by the people in her house. Her dad, well, he was particularly irked if he was awakened in the middle of his sleep, and an irked father was the last thing (Y/N) needed. "I don't care. I am driving to your house in 5 minutes. I need to see you. Don't make me burst into your house." He wasn't demanding, no. His voice was too similar to pleading. "Ok, ok. Meet me where you usually park." She ended the call quickly, huffing and closing her eyes.
She knew he meant it; he would burst through the door just to check if she is alright. So, she got off the couch and slipped into a hoodie, and hoped he wouldn't notice. She held her breath as she walked to the door and sneaked out of the house, knowing damn well the consequence if she was caught red-handed He was waiting for her outside the car, leaning his back against the door of the driver's side. The first thing he did was hug her, nearly crushing her on his chest; she tried not to wince in pain, but his arms squeezed right on her bruised ribs, so she cried out in pain. "What is it? Did I hurt you?" He asked her, eyes going big with worry. "It's nothing." She failed to assure him as his eyes still searched her down for any sign of discomfort. "You flinched and winced when I hugged you. It's not nothing." He demanded to know what was going on. "I told you it's nothing." She wasn't looking at him, and that startled Ashton.
"Baby, please tell me. What is going on?" He asked, bringing his hand to stroke her cheek. She only jumped a little in the beginning, but soon relaxed, feeling his warm hand against her cheek. "I... I fell and hit my ribs. That's all." Ashton could tell she was lying, he could tell by the way he avoided looking at him. "I know you are lying..." He sounded hurt, and (Y/N) felt like she was stabbed in the heart. She wanted to tell him, she wanted to be honest and open up to him, but she was scared. She was scared she would be overwhelming; he didn't deserve to get tangled in all of that.
"(Y/N), is this what I think it is? Are they... Are they hurting you?" He asked her, tilting her chin to bring her gaze to him. (Y/N) found herself upon the greatest dilemma she had to face; should she tell him the truth, risking their relationship, or maybe she should lie and stay in a situation she knew she didn't deserve to be in? "It's fine. It's not that bad now." She mumbled under her breath.
There was silence, deafening silence. (Y/N) could only hope for the best, holding her breath as she waited for Ashton. Ashton stared shocked; everything made sense now. He hugged her, this time carefully as not to hurt her. "You shouldn't have to go through that... No one should." He whispered, pecking the top of her head. "I told you, it's fine." She insisted, but her sobs gave her away. "I know you are lying, but it is ok. You don't have to tell me anything else if you are not ready." He assured her, his voice soothing her down. "I don't want you tangled in all this." She whispered, holding onto him as tightly as she could. "Well, I don't want you tangled in all this as well." He replied. "Listen, I want you to come with me. Leave all this behind. You don't have to be there anymore." He explained, making (Y/N) look at him in confusion. "I can't do that." She uttered but he shook his head. "Yes, you can. Come live with me, let me help you get out of that. (Y/N), I don't want this for you, I don't want people hurting you, I don't want you to be in pain. (Y/N), I... Fuck, I love you. Please, let me help you." He nearly pleaded. "I can't depend on you. I need to be able to stand at my own feet..." "Yes, you can depend on me. You can and you should. At least until you can stand at your own feet. If you were in my shoes, you would have done the same. If it was me in that situation, I know you would do anything within your powers to help me. Let me do the same for you." He took her hands in his, letting her feel how warm they were.
With tears brimming in her eyes, she nodded her head and sighed. "Ok." She could only mutter, but it was enough for Ashton to feel this sudden wave of relief. "Get in the car." He instructed her, smiling softly. --
Ashton just stared at (Y/N) as she changed from her clothes to his t-shirt and sweats. She looked tiny in his clothes, everything looking baggy on her. He tried to distract himself from the bruise that was staining her ribs; he promised himself, her, the universe, and God that this bruise would be the last her body would ever have to heal. He would let nothing hurt her from now on, and he intended to keep it. "I can go sleep in the guest room if it will make you feel more comfortable." Ashton pointed at the door as she climbed up the bed. "We've slept so many times together, baby, you don't have to." She replied; to say she needed him to hold her would be an understatement. "Ok, then." "I know you were looking at the bruise." She held his face in her hands as she spoke. "I was. We can go have it checked somewhere if you want to." He offered but she shook her head. "It's not a big deal. I've had worse, this will heal in a few days." She sounded casual and that made Ashton fume with anger. "That is literally the saddest sentence I have ever heard." He tried to breathe deep, calm himself down before talking.
"I am scared." She finally admitted, causing him to pull her onto him and cuddle her. "You don't have to, anymore." He tried to soothe her. "But I do... When they get up in the morning, they will..." She began but he shushed her. "They won't hurt you anymore. It's over, you got out. You hear me? You got out." He reminded her. It wasn't easy for her, just shut off the little voice that told her she was never safe. "I need to go pick up my stuff. At least the most important of them." She sighed and he nodded. "We will. I will come with you, the guys will come with you, plus security. You are not going in there alone, I am not letting you." He commented and she nodded her head. "I love you, Ash." She let out, smiling at him. "I love you, angel." He pecked the tip of her nose. "Now, we need to sleep a bit. We both need it." He raised the covers and brought them over their bodies as he laid down, (Y/N) on his chest, holding onto him tightly.
She was going to be alright. And he was going to make sure of it.
My Masterlist  /  Could you be home
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abuttoncalledsmalls · 4 years
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Take A Giant Step - Chapter 4
Warnings: Angst and Language
Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!OC
Word Count: 1.7 K
A/N: Here is Chapter 4! If you would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters, please don’t hesitate to let me know. Shout out to the AMAZINGLY LOVELY @yespolkadotkitty for beta-ing this and making my new amazing banner!! Please enjoy. <3
Chapters: 1 2 3
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“Mango!” Lauren was on her front porch when I pulled into her driveway. She had invited me over on a sunny Saturday afternoon for lunch with her and her husband, Ian. I adored my younger sister dearly and always had a wonderful time when we visited. Saturday lunches were especially a very special time where we could catch up over a delicious home cooked meal.
“Lauren!” I got out of Carly and climbed up the porch steps. As I hadn’t seen her in a while, the biggest hug I could muster was in order. She was all smiles and seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood. 
“I know I said we were going to have barbeque today, but things just did not pan out. So I hope that grilled turkey burgers, potato salad, green beans, and pecan tarts are okay.”
I laughed. “That sounds amazing, but do you know that there are only three of us for lunch?”
“Yes - I can count, but leftovers are the best part of any meal.”
I rolled my eyes and followed my sister into her house. She had a lovely home. It was cozy and well put together. It almost looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine. The best part though was that it was out in the country. The property was secluded. Her only neighbors were towering oak trees, diverse wildlife, and a small creek two minutes away. Whenever we would go into her backyard, I would find myself getting lost in the splendor of the outdoors.
“Ian went out to pick up beer and some lemonade. He should be back soon. In the meantime, let’s catch up in the kitchen. I still have a little cooking to do.”
As we entered the kitchen, I settled onto a wooden stool with a blue gingham seat cushion. I asked Lauren how things were going. She replied with her usual cheeriness. Her new promotion at her financial firm was going well and Ian was enjoying the good weather by fishing every week. They were just starting on long-awaited home renovations.
“Actually, we officially started the process this morning! I called your friend Frankie and had him over this morning to do some minor work on the backyard deck. He did a really good job. I’m really excited that we’ll be able to have meals and get togethers out there again.” She sighed contently.
“He’s not still here, is he?” I wasn’t exactly dressed for company outside of my sister and brother-in-law. Somehow bright red cotton red cheer shorts and a well worn white t-shirt reading “FLASH” in bold scarlet letters did not strike me as an outfit that conveyed a well put together adult. It had more of a 70’s teenager vibe to it.
“He left about forty-five minutes before you arrived. Why?”
“Just curious.”
“Sure you are… I see that smile on your face. You like him. I should have known.”
“Laur -”
“I’m not judging you, Mango. He’s a cutie and your type. I know about your weakness for brown eyes. Have you asked him out yet?”
I shook my head no. “We’re just friends. Or at least I think we are. I’m not too sure. Sometimes I feel like he’s just being polite and -”
“Jesus Christ. Do you speak to each other frequently?”
“Yeah, we text almost every day.”
“Do you two have a good time when you speak to each other?”
“I think so. I mean, I know that I do.”
“Congratulations. You are friends.” Lauren exhaled and I braced myself. I knew what was coming next. My sister began her time old lecture on the importance of letting down my guard. She reiterated that I needed to be open to letting others love and care for me. That by showing my vulnerability that I may have risked getting hurt, but I also risked missing out on so much more. I knew she was right deep down, I just wasn’t ready to get to that level yet.
“This is the last thing I will say and then I promise that I’ll drop it. You are my big sister and I love you. Your last relationship was six years ago. I want you to be happy. You deserve someone who can do that. I don’t know Frankie, but I think you’d be stupid to not ask him out for coffee at the very least. He could be total garbage or the one that completes you. Either way, you won’t know until you ask.”
***
It was dusk when I left Lauren’s. I kept thinking about our conversation in the kitchen about Frankie. I did like him a lot and I would have been interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Maybe I did need to just suck it up and ask him out. A small pebble of courage was forming in my stomach. I opened up my contacts in my phone and tapped Frankie’s name. The line began to ring. I was going to do this. I was going to be confident, see this through, and ask him to go for coffee. If he said “no”, it would be okay. The world would not end.
“Hi Maggie.” Immediately I felt myself melting. Everytime I heard him say my name in his husky baritone, I turned into putty. He had a way of making two simple syllables sound like the sweetest honey dripping off of his lips.
“Hey Frankie. Am I calling at a bad time? My confidence was disappearing as fast as it had appeared.
“Never. I was just getting settled to watch tv and eat dinner.”
“Oh no. I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I can call back later. It’s not important.”
“It’s okay. It’s just me, a Cheers rerun, and a Hot Pocket. You aren’t interrupting anything. How are you doing? How was your visit with your sister?”
I stopped. “How did you know about my visit?”
“She told me about it this morning when I was working on the deck in the backyard.”
“Right. She didn’t drive you crazy, did she?”
“Nope. She was really nice and left me alone to work for the most part. She did offer me coffee a few times.”
Coffee! What a perfect segue. I took a deep breath and prepared myself. It was then or never.
“Speaking of coffee, one of our board members, Harvey, mentioned that one of the legs on his coffee table needs repair. Would it be okay if I passed your info along to him?” Goddamnit. My nerves decided it would be never.
“Of course. I would be more than happy to look at it.”
“Awesome. I’ll let him know,” I said weakly.
“Is there anything else you needed?”
“I’m good,” I lied. “I’ll let you get back to Cheers and your Hot Pocket. Just promise that you’ll eat a vegetable or piece of fruit as well. That shit isn’t a real dinner.”
“Yes, Mom.” I could hear a grin in his voice which in turn made me smile. “I promise to eat something with actual nutrients as well.” We shared a chuckle.
“Maggie? Are you still on the road?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Will you promise to text me when you get home? Just so I know that you got in okay?”
“Yes, Dad.”
***
Over the next month and a half, I must have given Frankie over fifteen referrals alone. That didn’t include the ones that both Lauren and Harvey sent his way. Although he was busy with this influx of work, we still were good about keeping up with each other on a daily basis. Sometimes it was a simple text reminding the other person to hydrate. Other times it was a late night phone call where we shared laughter over the eccentricities of board members he had met that day.
I was plugging away in my office on a Monday afternoon. I was pouring over numbers for the next season’s budget and was desperate for a distraction. My head was practically swimming. My phone started to play “Go All the Way” and I knew that Frankie was calling me. I picked that ringtone specifically for him. I answered my phone.
“Hi Frank-”
“I’m in the area. Could I maybe drop by the theater for a second? I have iced coffee.”
“Absolutely! I do love my iced coffee and I always enjoy seeing you. That would be nice.”
“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“See you then!” I hung up. The butterflies in my stomach had reappeared. When I spoke with or texted him, I’d get a little giddy. There was just something about seeing him in person that made me feel excitedly dizzy - like I was drunk. I wondered if he would look any different from the last time I saw him. Would he still have his patchy beard and adorable belly pooch? What about his soft brown curls kept in check by his baseball cap?
I heard a knock on my office door frame and looked up. I was happy to see that Frankie still looked the same, only a little more tan. His beard, pooch, curls, and hat were all present. A large smile crossed his face when he walked in and handed me my iced coffee.
“Hi stranger. Long time, no see.”
“Tell me about it! You’re so busy now. I’m surprised you still have time to talk with me, let alone bring me iced coffee.”
“I will always make time for you. I can’t stay for too long, but I did want to bring you a pick me up. You mentioned that today was budget day and I thought the coffee would help.”
“It does. Thank you so much.”
“I also wanted to thank you. You’ve been so kind and have really helped me out with all of these jobs. Really - I wouldn’t have been able to pay rent or buy groceries without your help. I just finished a huge job building a curio cabinet for your board member Stacey. It paid really well and to thank you I was thinking that maybe I could take you out to dinner on Thursday. Only if you are comfortable with it. I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”
I had lost all of my capability for language. This beautiful, reserved, and sweet man was asking if he could take me out to dinner. I somehow was able to squeak out that I would love to. He shyly looked down at the floor and blepped his tongue. 
“Great. I’ve heard great things about Arianna’s on Main Street. Would 7:00 PM work for you?”
“Absolutely. It’s a date.”
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I Believe the Children Are Our Future: Part One
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2,186
Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!
Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.
Tags at the bottom
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“Agents Page, Plant, and Ronan,” Dean said as he held up his fake badge for the doctor to see.
There had been reports of strange deaths occurring in this town, but you didn’t really know how strange. The police report you found said something about a girl with a head injury from something that clawed through her skull. Normally it wasn’t your type of thing, but when you talked with the police that made the report, he was very nervous and he stuttered which made you think there was something supernatural about this.
“Gentlemen, Lady. What brings you by?” the doctor asked.
“We need to see Amber Freer's body,” you stated.
“Really? What for?”
“The police report said something clawed through her skull?”
“You didn't read the autopsy report that I emailed out this morning?”
“W-we had, uh, server issues,” Sam chuckled nervously.
The doctor motioned for you three to follow, and he led you to the room where the bodies were kept in freezers. He opened one and pulled the body out before removing the sheet from her head.
“When they brought her in, we thought she was attacked by a wolf or something,” the doctor explained as he showed you the claw marks on the side of her skull, “but we were wrong.” He picked up a plastic bad from the slab the body was laying on before showing it to you and the brothers.
“Is that a—”
“Pressed-on nail,” the doctor finished for you. “We found it in her temporal lobe.”
“You’re saying she did this to herself?” you asked, clearly shocked.
“Uh-huh. She scratched her brains out. It'd take hours, and it'd hurt like hell, but sure—it's possible.”
“How?”
“Pick your acronym—OCD, PCP. It all spells crazy,” the doctor sighed. Sam reached for the blanket and pulled it back further until the girl’s hands were shown. Amber’s right hand had four press-on nails still attached, but the middle finger has nothing on it. “My guess, some kind of phantom itch. I mean, an extreme case, but still.”
“Phantom itch?” Dean asked.
“Yup,” the doctor stated as he placed the sheet back over her body and put her back in the freezer. “All it takes is someone talking about an itch—or thinking about one, even—and suddenly you can't stop scratching.”
“Thanks, doc,” you smiled before leaving the morgue with the brothers.
Now you know why the police was nervous when you talked to them because they were curious about why she did this to herself or what caused it to happen.
“The family should still be a little fresh regarding information. We’re heading there next,” you said as you clutched the keys in your hand.
“When I agreed you could drive, I didn’t mean take over the whole goddamn investigation,” Dean joked as everyone got into the car.
“Get used to it,” you smirked before pulling out onto the street to head to the house where Amber died—the house in which she was babysitting.
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While Sam was questioning the parents of Jimmy, the little boy who had Amber as a babysitter, you and Dean looked at the rest of the house for anything suspicious. The little boy, Jimmy, was watching from the kitchen because he seemed too scared to even go into the room with the FBI Agents who he thinks are real. As soon as you saw him, you nudged Dean before approaching the young boy.
“Whatcha lookin' for?” Jimmy asked hesitantly.
“Don’t know yet,” Dean answered.
“It’s Jimmy, yeah?” you asked and he nodded. “So, Amber was your babysitter?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he gulped.
“Did you, uh, you see anything strange that night?” Dean asked.
“No, sir.”
“You sure about that?”
“I—I would tell you if I knew something. I promise. One hundred percent. Cross my heart.”
“Well, Jimmy, I happen to know you're lying,” Dean began, but the young boy tried to get out of it.
“I'm not.”
“Jimmy,” you stated as you kneeled down which was more closer to his height than if you were to stand. “You’re not going to get in trouble. I promise you. What happened last night? You can tell us.”
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think it would work. I put it on her hairbrush,” he started crying as he pulled out what he used to prank his babysitter with.
Taking the object from his hand, you looked at the itching powder that claimed to work like a charm. Looking at Dean, you patted Jimmy’ shoulder as you stood up.
“Thank you for letting us know, Jimmy,” you said as you walked back over to Sam who was finishing up. He thanked the parents for their cooperation just as you three left the house.
“What did you find out?” Sam asked.
“Kid said he put this on the babysitter's hairbrush,” you explained as you held up the powder.
“Y/N, there’s no way itching powder made that girl scratch her brains out. It's just ground-up maple seeds.”
“If you have any other theories, I'm open to 'em,” you shrugged.
Sam’s phone rang as you approached the driver’s side door. He looked distressed as he talked to whoever was on the other line.
“Yeah?... Yeah, we'll be right there,” he sighed as he hung up.
“Who was that?”
“The police. There’s been another death.”
“Hospital it is then,” you chuckled as you got into the car and started her up.
The drive to the hospital wasn’t far, and when you got there, they were already putting a body in a body bag and zipping it shut.
“What happened?” Sam asked when he showed his badge.
“Guy got electrocuted,” the doctor answered.
“Any idea how?”
“Eh, maybe a loose wire or a piece of equipment shorted out. So far, we haven't found anything.”
“Witnesses?”
“Yeah, guy in there—Mr. Stanley,” he pointed out the old man who sat in a chair, looking out the window. “He says he saw it, but he's not making a lick of sense. Senile.”
“Thank you,” you nodded before going over to the man. “Mr. Stanley?”
“It was just a joke. I didn't know it would really work.”
“What would work?”
“All I did was shake his hand,” he sighed shakily as he held out his hand, and in the palm is a joy buzzer—the kid of toy that kids mean to shock others unexpectedly.
“Could I see that, please?” you asked as the old man handed it over. Careful not to touch the metal part, you looked at the brothers before leaving the room with them.
“What are you going to do with it?” Dean asked.
“Test it.”
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Sam and Dean had industrial goggles on their eyes with black rubber gloves that welders use in case they get sparks on their skin. In the middle of the room was a large uncooked ham in two stacked aluminum-foil pans sitting on the table. Instead of wearing the same kind of goggles and gloves at they were, your magic was to protect you. Blue magic formed over your eyes to shield you from whatever is about to happen as well as over your hands and arms.
“You two ready?” you asked as you looked back at them.
“Hit it, Mr. Wizard,” Sam chuckled.
Rolling your eyes lightly, you turned back to the ham before placing the shocking ring on your finger. Taking a deep breath, you placed it to the ham which began to cook from the inside out. Shocked, pun intended, you pulled your hand away to reveal the burned ham.
“That’ll do pig,” Dean commented as he inched closer.
“What the hell?” Sam gasped. “That shit isn't supposed to work.”
“This thing doesn't even have batteries,” you said as you carefully placed the buzzer down before your magic went away. Both brothers took off their gloves and glasses before Dean took out his knife and began cutting the meat.
“So, what? Are we looking at cursed objects?”
“Sounds about right,” Dean said as he ate the meat. “Maybe there's a powerful witch in town. Is there any link between the, uh, the joy buzzer and the itching powder?”
“Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store.”
“Hmm,” Dean muttered as he continued to eat.
“Come on, Dean,” you sighed as you grabbed his arm and lead him out of the door.
The only place in town that would sell this kind of things was a magic shop which didn’t take too long to get to. As soon as you approached the shop, you walked inside which sounded the bell above the door.
“Sam! Y/N!” Dean grinned as he held up a whoopee cushion. Rolling your eyes, you walked to the counter just as the owner came out of the back room.
“Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery.”
“Are you the owner?” you asked.
“Yep.”
“You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?”
“Yeah, a grand total of one of each. They aren't exactly big-ticket items. Look, you folks here to buy something or what?” he asked. Dean held up some cash before placing it and the whoopee cushion on the counter.
“So, you get many customers?” you asked.
“Kids come in. They don't buy much, but they're more than happy to break stuff. These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies. The whole thing makes me just—”
“Angry?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am angry. This shop has been my life for twenty years, and now it's wasting away to nothing.”
“Which is why you hate them.”
“I suppose.”
“You wish there was something you could do about it.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
“So, you're taking revenge,” Dean said as he snatched a rubber chicken off the display and slaps it down on the counter before holding up the buzzer, “with this.” He pressed the buzzer to the chicken which melted it immediately from the shock. The owner jumped back and yelped, taking a seat on whatever he could find.
“Oh! No!” he stuttered, making inarticulate noises.
“Yeah, something tells me this guy is not a powerful witch,” you muttered with an apologetic smile at the man.
“Sorry. Sorry,” Dean apologize as you three scrambled to get out before you caused any more danger.
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“I thought that was a rumor,” you said as you walked down the stairs from the second floor of the hospital.
There had been kids that drank and ate pop rocks and coke which caused them to have stomach ulcers. There was also a man whose face was stuck in a certain… position… and they needed a plastic surgeon to come to see if they could fix it. All of these things were rumors and tales, so why were they coming true?
“Yeah well, when you’re a kid, you’ll believe anything,” Dean chuckled just as Sam walked out of the room belonging to a man whose teeth are all missing.
“What's up with Toothless? Cavity creeps get ahold of him?” Dean asked his brother.
“Yeah. Close. He wrote up a description,” he cleared his throat as he read from his notebook. “Five foot ten, three hundred fifty pounds, wings, and a pink tutu. Said it was the tooth fairy.”
“So, he's obviously whacked out on painkillers.”
“Maybe. Whatever it was got past locked doors and windows without triggering the alarm. Plus, it left thirty-two quarters underneath his pillow. One for each tooth.”
“Well, I will see your crazy and raise you some. There's a couple of kids upstairs with stomach ulcers—say they got it from mixing Pop Rocks and Coke. Another guy... his face... froze that way,” you indulged.
“What way?” Sam asked.
Dean looked all around him to see if anyone was watching before he pulled the sides of his mouth so that his teeth showed and crossed his eyes. He holds it for a minute before letting go.
“He held it too long and it stuck. They're flying in a plastic surgeon,” you sighed.
“So, I mean, if you add all that up,” Sam hesitated before sighing. “I got nothing.”
“I thought that if you swallowed chewing gum, it would stick in your stomach for seven years before you’re able to pass it through.”
“What?” Dean asked.
“I also thought that saying, “step on a crack and you break your mother’s back” was true. I mean, I was seven, but I believed it.”
“What’s your point?”
“I mean that’s the connection we’re missing. The tooth fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you—they're all lies that kids believe and now they’re coming true.”
“Okay, so whatever's doing this is—is reshaping reality. It has the powers of a god. Or of a trickster,” Sam rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old.”
“Or you,” Sam smirked at his brother before leaving your side.
Dean frowned, but you giggled as you passed him since you knew he was right. Dean’s frown deepened, but he followed nonetheless.
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