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ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years

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Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity.

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

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myluciferiscody · 4 years

Text

Class Fight (p.1)

pairing: teen!dandy mott x teen!reader

word count: 3,303

warnings: language, jealous dandy, slightly au!dandy, all characters are 18

part 2 part 3

It was the first semester of your Senior year. The first month of school had flown by, and the Fall dance was just a few weeks away. Your small group of girlfriends was anxiously awaiting for their crushes to ask them.

You weren’t particularly concerned with this. The dance fell on the one Saturday of the month where you had to accompany your mother to some stupid Tupperware party. It was the newest trend in American dining, and your mother needed you as her plus one. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one dance… right?

Your best friends Winter and Zoe were excited, but they were devastated you couldn’t come. You always went with them as a trio.

“Are you sure you couldn’t cancel?” Winter asked while you washed your hands in the bathroom sink. The school day was over, and you planned on accompanying her to the diner for greasy food and to catch up on homework.

“I already promised her weeks ago,” you said, drying your hands. “There’s still prom?”

Winter nodded in understanding, and you both knew it was the end of that discussion. Zoe came out of the stall, her face flushed and hair tied back. She looked clammy.

“You alright in there?” Winter asked her as Zoe took a disposable cup and drank some water.

“Kyle asked me to the dance!” Zoe replied breathlessly. You and Winter both congratulated her, and Winter asked why she looked so sick.

“I just got overwhelmed, you know? He came up and asked me right as I put my books away. I didn’t think he was going too, he never brought it up before-.”

You followed them out as Zoe recanted the story of how Kyle asked her. The halls were mostly cleared now as kids scrambled to leave as soon as possible.

“You’re riding with us, right?” Zoe then asked you, raising a neat eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Dandy probably left already.”

The girls both smirked to themselves, but you ignored it. You were used to it by now.

The thing was, Dandy Mott was the best looking guy in school, in your opinion. You had never attended a public school in your life, but you knew those boys could never compare. Dandy was from the wealthiest family in your private district, and with his looks, girls were all over him.

However, he was quite the character.

Dandy didn’t necessarily associate with a particular group of kids. He was reticent and didn’t bother with any clubs, but he was quite attuned to the drama program. He was also known for his temper if things didn’t go his way, but age matured him, mostly. You were one of the few people who he actually gave a damn about in life. You attributed that to knowing him before school. Your grandfather was a business partner with the Mott family, where your family name found their wealth, and how you two were friends.

You weren’t bothered by the unwanted attention you got from girls attempting to weasel their way into your circle for the chance to talk to Dandy. Most of them gave up quickly, and that was that. Plus, you had Winter and Zoe as your protectors. They weren’t afraid to kick a bitch in the vagina if they overstepped the clear boundaries you had set for yourself. Dandy trusted you, and you weren’t about to fuck that up.

Plus, his mother, Gloria, was continually trying to set him up with girls in other parts of town.

You climbed into Zoe’s new car, buckling your seatbelt and glancing across the almost deserted parking lot. You spotted him instantly, sitting in his car and staring right back. You slowly raised your hand, giving him a wave. Dandy slowly reciprocated the action, and you swore you saw him smile.

You spent the evening with the girls, eating dinner and trying to explain the symbolism in the required reading in English. The football team had finished their practice and were crowding what few booths and tables were left. You tried to block out their raucous laughter, loudly asking Zoe to read your theory to see if it were plausible.

Winter had noticed the Quarterback, Jason, occasionally staring at you as he chewed his burger. Your back was to him, so you had no idea. She didn’t say anything, instead watching him from the corner of her eye, figuring he wouldn’t approach your table.

“I just think it only makes sense to me,” you told Zoe, scratching your head. “I can’t concentrate with the boys screaming for no reason.”

“I think it makes perfect sense. You did misspell authority, though…”

You laughed to yourself, glancing around the diner as Zoe fixed your spelling. You were so distracted, you misspelled simple words.

“We should get ready and go, it’s getting stuffy in here…” Winter commented, closing her English book.

“Just a moment!” Zoe said excitedly, scribbling down in her own notebook now.

You had started gathering your things when both Zoe and Madison looked behind you, looking a mix of concern and amusement. You glanced behind you to see Jason Dean, smiling down at you. His dark hair covered his eyes, and he pushed it back.

You had no idea what to say. The last conversation you had with Jason was probably in fifth grade when he commented that women were weak while helping you carry boxes of school supplies, and you accidentally dropped a massive box of markers on his foot. He cried for an hour.

“y/n,” he addressed you. You glanced at your friends who were eagerly watching you with their faces hidden behind their textbooks. Winter’s was upside down.

“Hi, Jason,” you responded, hearing the confusion in your voice. You listened to his friends giggling behind you, and you wondered if this was a joke.

“I haven’t seen you in a minute,” he said cheekily, and you nodded. “You look good.”

You quickly looked him up and down. Jason was muscular but not bulky, and he was definitely a whole foot taller than you. He grew into his facial features, and he was a handsome guy. You assumed he was just talking to you on a dare, so you finished putting your things in your bag. Zoe and Winter didn’t budge, still pretending to read their books.

Jason realized you were dumbfounded at his statement. He quickly backtracked, “I just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

You bid him farewell, turning to your friends who were having a hard time concealing their laughter. You heard Jason’s best friend, Matthew, call him an idiot and what sounded like a smack on the back.

“y/n, you have a boyfriend?” Zoe asked, smirking at you.

You glared, standing up as they shouldered their bags and grabbed their books. “You know perfectly well I don’t speak to him.”

“I bet he wants to ask you to the dance.” Winter grinned at Zoe, who nodded in agreement as you stepped into the cold autumn air.

“I’m not going either way.” you mumbled, and the girls dropped it until the next morning.

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that the Quarterback tried to talk to you at the diner a few nights before. All the students who were present spread gossip like wildfire. You ignored it. You knew they were just children speculating what it could mean when it probably meant nothing.

Zoe and Winter never brought it up again, and you were relieved that your friends didn’t dwell on it for too long. You loved that about them.

It was after lunchtime when you sat in your History course, going over the notes for the test. You heard Jason and a few of his friends pile in, laughing and making comments under their breath. They took their designated seats in the back, and you felt eyes on the back of your head.

A group of popular girls across the room started to giggle, and you glanced up to see Dandy walk in, his nose up and sauntering to the seat directly behind you. You wondered why he didn’t acknowledge you, but you didn’t dwell on it long. Dandy was often absent from any social interaction.

Your teacher began the class the moment the bell rang. She decided to go over the notes an extra day and postponed the test. You were mildly disappointed but knew the material well, so you decided to doodle in your journal. One of the girls in the front occasionally popped her gum.

Ms. Strode was talking about World War II when you felt something hit your elbow. You glanced over and saw a balled-up piece of paper. You glanced around to see most people were either frantically jotting down notes or not paying any attention. You picked it up, assuming it just needed to be passed ahead.

However, you read your name in neat cursive and opened it under the table.

Would you go to the dance with me? - Jason

You read the short invitation a good ten or so times before you could comprehend what he was asking. While the teacher wasn’t looking, you peeked over your shoulder to see him staring at you. His buddies were hiding their own smiles, but you didn’t see any malice behind it. Was he serious?

Of course, you’d have to decline. You already have an engagement. You promised your mother. You already declined the evening with your two best friends.

You didn’t send a note back, knowing it would be too distracting trying to pass it. Dandy would never try to give a stupid message.

However, Dandy had been paying attention and had managed to read the note over your shoulder when you laid it on your pencil case. He became green with envy, closing the book he hadn’t been paying attention too in the first place.

You hardly spoke a word to him this year. He wondered why that was. Dandy was very particular who he said too, and gave any sliver of his precious time. You were a comfort to him and probably didn’t realize that. Dandy knew he couldn’t seem desperate for your affection, or at the very least, your attention. He had hoped you’d be waiting for him in his car after school like the previous years before. Did he do something to upset you? Were you too good for him?

Dandy spent the rest of the class staring at the back of your head. He knew that wasn’t the case. Perhaps it was his behavior that steered you away. Of course, he liked being friends with you, but maybe it wasn’t enough. He was a loner who enjoyed his alone time. Dandy heard what people said about him. The general consensus was that he was doing everything right.

When the class was dismissed, he hung back, watching as you quickly gathered your things and paced out the door.

“Tough blow, man!” he heard Matthew say.

“She’ll come around.” Jason replied, his tone snarky. Dandy watched as they walked out of the room, his brows furrowing as he debated on taking the high road and asking you to the stupid dance himself. He wouldn’t go willingly. His mother, Gloria, needed him to be involved as much as possible. To keep up appearances, of course. Not for Dandy’s own goodwill.

Dandy trailed out of the class, seeing you across the hall at your locker. Winter was beside you, somehow talking and applying lipstick at the same time. He stood off to the side, not minding all the bodies bumping into him and temporarily panicking that he’d yell at them.

This is it, Dandy thought. It’s a war, whether Jason Dean knew that or not.

Jason approached you the following day and asked if you’d mind talking to him at lunch. You hesitantly agreed, catching Zoe’s eye as she hugged Kyle before going into her class. She smiled at you, and you gave her a hesitant one in return.

He definitely matured through the years. Jason was interested in you, and you felt comfortable talking to him through the entire lunch period, even catching yourself laughing at his sense of humor. Dandy played with the apple in his hands, glaring daggers at the back of Jason’s messy head. Winter noticed from her spot at your usual table and nudged Zoe, gesturing for her to look.

“He looks pissed.” Zoe giggled, and Winter nodded in agreement.

“I think Mott is going to kill him!” Winter said, stabbing at her steamed broccoli.

“Shouldn’t we let y/n know?” Zoe asked.

“I think she’s about to figure it out.” Winter said as Dandy stood up, heading directly to the table where you were sitting with Jason. Zoe and Winter fell into a hush, shoving food into their mouth and intently watching what was about to unfold.

Jason saw him approaching first and paused, sizing the other guy up and down. Jason was bigger than Dandy in height and muscle tone from being an athlete, but Dandy wasn’t lanky either. You turned around, shocked to find Dandy staring down at you.

“y/n,” Dandy nodded at you, ignoring Jason.

“Dandy, hi!” you said, genuinely happy to see him. “How are you?”

“I’m decent.” he said, smiling a little. “Could I have a word?”

You glanced at Jason, who seemed timid, but he nodded. You stood up, promising Jason you’d be back as you followed Dandy out to the hallway. Multiple eyes followed you, and you heard the whispers starting as the door swung shut.

“How are you?” Dandy asked now, looking down at you. His dark hair was neatly gelled and had a slight curl.

“I’ve been good. I haven’t heard from you in a while…” you said.

Dandy nodded, “I could say the same. I assumed you’d come back around soon enough.”

You felt he was hurt by your absence. Dandy looked bothered, and you felt terrible. However, he was capable of approaching you as well. Which is what he thought he had to do.

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping his mother was doing well. You hadn’t seen her all Summer.

“y/n, you know you’re one of the only people I care about in this stupid town,” Dandy said, glancing towards a teacher walking to the lounge. He gave you guys a questioning look but didn’t comment, disappearing into the next room.

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so Dandy continued, “Which is why I think you shouldn’t go to the formal with Jason.”

You frowned, “How do you know he asked me?”

“The whole school knows!” Dandy retorted, and you remembered. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not going either way.”

Dandy looked surprised, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He laughed a little, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Oh.”

“What, are you jealous?” you asked, laughing at him. Dandy tried to hide his laughter, but it didn’t work. The quiet hallway was filled with your giggles.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Dandy said, and you were saddened to hear the bell ring. Dandy straightened up, the smile leaving his face as kids filed out of the cafeteria and the surrounding classrooms. Kids stared at you and whispered, many laughing and wondering if you were now a couple.

Jason slowly walked in your direction, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to Dandy. You were ashamed that you had avoided him for so long. You missed him. Dandy glanced behind you, his eyes sharpening as your new suitor waited patiently, his hands in his beige jacket.

“Be careful around him.” Dandy whispered to you before he disappeared down the hall.

You approached Jason, who gave you a soft smile, “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

You shook your head, a light smile on your lips, “No. We’re just friends.”

“Oh…” Jason nodded, “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I freaked you out the other day. We don’t have to go to the dance together, but-.”

“Oh!” you gasped. Jason frowned, giving you a quizzical look. “The dance… I forgot,” you lied. “Uhm, I’m actually not going. I have other plans…” you said.

Jason looked defeated but took the rejection gracefully. You promised you’d sit with him again tomorrow, and he visibly cheered up at that. You ended up having to sprint to your locker for your books after saying goodbye, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Dandy’s warning.

“Be careful around him.”

The Friday before the dance went to complete shit.

That morning you ate your breakfast slowly, listening to your parents argue in the kitchen over a business deal your mother thought was a bad idea. Your father was greedy and looked towards the top dollar than what was best for the business and the family.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Winter fell sick and couldn’t go to school. You had to wait for your father to finish getting ready before he could drive you. You were ten minutes late and got a verbal warning; you never got in trouble at school. You had three tests in a row, and by lunch, you were about to rip your hair out.

Jason was nowhere to be found, so you sat with Zoe. She was worried that Winter would miss the dance but was happy that she’d at least have Kyle if Winter canceled. Kyle came and sat with you guys, his shaggy blond hair wet from the downpour outside.

You were anxiously looking around the cafeteria for any sign of Dandy. He had missed a few days of school, citing a fever when you called his house and spoke to his maid, Dora. You wished him well and knew he’d pull through fast. Plus, you saw his car this morning when you got dropped off.

“They’re going to cancel the dance if more kids fall ill,” Kyle said as he ate a burger. Zoe glared at him, telling him to look on the bright side of things.

“What? I am!” Kyle replied, smirking at his new girlfriend.

“I’m sure they won’t cancel.” you placated Zoe, who beamed at you. “All the parents who gave money will be pissed.”

You ate most of your lunch when the principal walked in. The room immediately quieted as he observed the tables before landing on you. He walked to you briskly, and you felt your heart racing as he approached.

Am I getting detention? I’ve only been late once!

“Ms. y/l/n, could you come with me?” he asked politely, smiling at you, Zoe, and Kyle.

You nodded slowly, bunching up your trash and placing it on the tray. Zoe told you to leave it, and they’d take care of it. You quietly thanked her and followed Principal Harmon out, struggling to keep pace with his long, thin legs.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you asked. Now wondering if your parents died in some fiery crash or if you failed a class.

“There’s been a disturbance outside this afternoon,” Harmon replied, his voice grim. “With Mr. Mott and Mr. Dean.”

You were shocked to hear this. You were silent during the rest of the trek to his office. When he opened the door, you saw both boys sitting in chairs. They both had packs of ice on their faces and sheepish expressions.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed to them as Mr. Harmon gestured for you to take the empty seat next to Dandy.

“Well, now that y/n is here, I think you both owe her an explanation and an apology.”

Jason and Dandy shared a look. Dandy now looked pissed, and you could only imagine what lead to this.

Oh, I have a pretty good fucking idea.

#dandy mott #dandy mott x reader #ahs imagine #dandy mott imagine #ahs freak show #winter anderson #zoe benson #american horror story

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

The Wait

Warnings: This chapter deals with pregnancy! I’ve CW’d them for that in the tags!! If you need me to add any additional tags, please let me know. I’m not a doctor and have never been pregnant. Just, you know. Disclaimer.

Summary: Thing is, you think you’re able to keep it quiet from the guys for a while.

You don’t tell the guys the good news at first. Thing is, because you don’t tell them, they notice some stuff about you. Stuff like the fact that you’re getting up to pee… More often than usual. You just pass it off as drinking a lot of water - hydrating way more, it’s been a goal of yours, anyway. They let that go.

But then there is also that time Connors gets a tuna fish sub with extra mustard and relish and you nearly throw up in the middle of the bullpen. You manage to make it to the bathroom before getting sick. Borracho meets you in the hall with a bottle of water, a pack of gum and a kiss on the forehead. You take a walk around the block to get the smell out of your nose. When you get back to the office, all of the windows are wide open. You know it’s Borracho’s doing, but the guys are all ribbing Connors for bringing in the smelliest sandwich imaginable. With this distraction you manage to meet Borracho’s eye and mouth, I love you, without anyone noticing. --

The two of you have some stuff to figure out - moving into a new place is your first priority. Your current apartment just doesn’t have enough room for a baby. The two of you have been looking at a few places, have gone to a couple of open houses, but nothing has seemed like a good fit. Borracho, unsurprisingly, wants to move somewhere closer to his family. You do see the appeal - more people in close range to help with the baby. And you do love the Magalons. But you also… Kinda like having your space. And maybe that’s a little selfish of you, especially considering how much you know they’re going to offer to help you two with the baby. After your first prenatal doctor appointment, the two of you go looking at a few places. The two of you have mostly been looking at two-bedroom apartments. You see one or two that you kind of like, but the two of you agree that what you saw was not what you were looking for. You stop to grab a bite to eat - you’re getting sleepy (you’re so tired these days, but Nadia tells you that that’s normal - so does Megan… And Isobel… And Regina, and your mother), and Borracho didn’t eat before the two of you left the apartment that morning. The two of you cuddle up on the same side of a booth at a diner, and you don’t even care that you look like the kind of couple that you used to make fun of. You’re too comfortable, tucked into Borracho’s side. You’re half-asleep (“Resting my eyes, I swear,” You mumble when he accuses you of being completely asleep), and he’s scrolling through more apartment listings on his phone while you wait for your food. “Food’s here, sweetness,” He murmurs, and you vaguely register the light thunk of plates being set on the table. “You want another cup of coffee?” The waitress asks, “You look like you could use it.” And she’s right, you’d love one, but you need to start cutting back on the caffeine, so you give her a smile and ask for more water instead. “Our baby better appreciate my caffeine withdrawals,” You sigh, scrubbing at your eyes. Borracho chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “They will. Hey-- Gabriel sent me a listing. You up for checking out one more when we’re done here?” You consider it for a moment as you pick up your spoon and push your oatmeal around to help it cool a bit. If Gabriel sent it, it’ll probably be quite close to the Magalons. And frankly, right now what you really want to do is go home and curl up on the couch. But you might feel better after you’ve got some food in you. So you nod. “I could go for one more.” -- It’s a condo, not an apartment. It’s got plenty of light; the bedrooms are right across the hall from one another; there’s only one bathroom, but you think you could live with that; the kitchen is much more open than the kitchen you have now. It’s a twenty minute drive to the nearest Magalon home; they’re not right on top of you and you don’t feel underfoot. “What do you think?” Borracho asks as the two of you leave. “... I really love it, but I didn’t wanna say it while we were in there. What do you think?” “I think… We should look at the listing online again and then maybe go to the bank. See what we can do about a loan.” You grin. “I would so be doing a little excited jump but I feel like if I jump right one, I am going to throw up.” “I’ve got the gum.”

-- Thing is, you think you’re able to keep it quiet from the guys for a while. You don’t intend to at first, really, you don’t, but they do catch on to some things - like the fact that you’re not drinking when the group of you go out for drinks after work. You just pass it off as being the designated driver for the two of you, and the guys rib Borracho, telling him to let you have some fun once in a while. You’re able to hide the slowly growing bump under your jackets and shirts and dresses. Nick officially finds out first - you schedule a meeting with him to discuss maternity leave during your fourth month. He has a straight face for a few moments before he nods and congratulates you. “Thanks,” You smile, “Who won the bet?” “Connors.” “Motherfucker, every time.” The guys won’t tell you how much the bet was for, though - they won’t even tell Borracho, which is new, and weird. But the two of you shrug it off, and the guys insist on taking the two of you out that night, and make a show of buying you rounds of seltzer.

-- “Do you want to know the sex?” You turn away from the ultrasound to look at Borracho. The two of you have been asking each other that all week. “We’ll get a bunch of yellow stuff if we don’t,” You’d pointed out, “Do we want a bunch of yellow baby stuff? Or people will buy a ton of stuff one color or the other and then be like, ‘well gosh, now you can’t use it’ if it’s the other sex-- Even though we’ll use it anyway-- Am I overthinking this?” You’d asked, looking up at him from where you were cuddled back against his chest on the couch in your new condo. He’d looked down at you, brows raised. “You are, but it’s hilarious, so, please, keep going.”

“Do you wanna know?” You ask him now, because if there’s a time to stop the technician from telling you, it’s this moment. And Borracho glances from the ultrasound to you before he shakes his head a little. “Do you?” He asks. You smile and shake your head. “We’ll wait,” You say, turning to look at the technician again.

“I love this green!” Nadia’s squealed declaration is ear-piercing, but you’re glad she approves of it. You laugh a little, watching her look around the room. You and Borracho painted the room a couple of days ago. The two of you had settled on a sage green color - not too in-your-face, but something that would be warm and welcoming. Borracho and Gabriel are out getting some of the furniture for the nursery now - the bassinet, the rocking chair, the combination changing table-dresser. Nadia’s dropped her kids off with Isobel to come over and help you guys start building some of the furniture. “You’re getting a rug?” “A small area one, yeah. Grey,” You nod. “How’s everything been?” Nadia asks, watching you lower yourself to lean against the windowsill. “Oh, it’s been…” Nadia gives you a knowing look, cutting off the, ‘being pregnant is great’ spiel you usually give the guys at work when they ask (because as sweet as it is for them to ask, they don’t really want to know). You sigh. “I’m constipated and my boobs are getting bigger.” Nadia nods, reaching out and patting your cheek. “Welcome to the club, honey.”

“Stop scratching.” “I’m not scratching.” “I saw you scratching, sweetness,” Borracho chuckles, “I’ll get the salve, get on the bed.” You don’t bicker with him. He’s been a saint - giving you a hand up to stretch when you have leg cramps, helping around the apartment more when you’re tired - and rubbing salve when your stretching belly is itchy. You lean back on the bed and pull your sleep shirt up. You sigh, giving your growing baby bump a rub. “Not scratching, huh?” Borracho teases, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you, “I see irritation.” “It’s itchy,” You whine. Borracho lets out a sympathetic hum before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your belly. You smile, watching him sit up and open the jar of salve. His sisters all swore by it - and they’d been right. It smells good, helps soothe the itch, and is a life saver. Borracho scoops out a small amount and begins to rub it in. You sigh, resting your head back against the pillows. “We still have to narrow down names,” You remind him. He hums, nodding, and you reach out to the notepad you keep on the bedside table. “Don’t drop that on your face again,” He teases as he reaches into the jar again. “You made me laugh last time, so that’s still your fault,” You argue, but you’re giggling. You flip it open, finding your list. “Mmm… Start with boy names?” You offer. “Sure, sweetness,” Borracho murmurs. “So we’ve got… Liam… Santiago… Xavier… and Giovanni.” “I don’t like Giovanni,” Borracho says, “I don't like the nickname ‘Gio’.” “Well someone’s name doesn’t necessarily dictate their nickname, Borracho,” You tease, “But I’m fine to take that one off of the list… I don’t think I like Liam so much anymore.” “Really?” “Mm. Liam Magalon. They kinda run together. LiammmMagalon.” Borracho chuckles, closing the jar of solve. “Liam’s out, then.” You reach out to the bedside table and grab the pen, crossing off Liam and Giovanni as Borracho stands up to put away the salve. “So that leaves us with...Santiago or Xavier.” “What about girls?” You turn the page. “Mmmm… Malia… Faye… and Xiomara.” “I like Malia,” Borracho flops onto the bed beside you. “Yeah?” You raise a brow, looking over at him. He nods a little. “Malia Magalon… Lia for short. Be cute.” “It would be cute,” You smile. Borracho watches you for a moment before he leans up, kissing you gently. You lower the notepad and cup his cheek, humming quietly. “Agreed, then?” He murmurs. You nod. “Malia if it’s a girl,” You murmur. “If it’s a boy?” He asks against your lips. “We’ll figure that out later,” You drop the notepad on the bedside table, reaching out to catch hold of his shirt with your other hand.

You have two baby showers. You expect one, but not the other. They’re both sort of surprises in their own way.

The first one is more traditional. It’s at Regina’s house - your friends, Borracho’s sisters, and your family are there. Borracho knows before you do that it’ll be happening. If you’re honest, you kind of suspect it. He’s on his phone all morning - you see his mom’s name, his sister’s names popping up. You don’t look too closely at the messages, but you’re suspicious when he mentions swinging by his mom’s to pick up a couple of things and asks you to tag along. He knows that the jig is up when you come out of the bedroom in a photo-ready outfit. “... Was I obvious?” He asks. “No, babe. I just know how Magalons do surprises now,” You tease, before pecking his lips, “Let’s go.” --

The second one you do not expect at all.

Nick asks you to drop a file to someone on another floor.

There’s a moment where you think, ‘Can you ask someone that isn’t seven months pregnant?’, but you take it and go. The elevator takes a stupidly long time both ways. By the time you make it back, your desk has been decorated, the guys are all standing around it, and there’s a banner hanging from the fluorescent lights that says, ‘Surprise!’

Tears fill your eyes and you cover your mouth with one hand and wave at your eyes with the other.

“She’s crying! Pay up!” Nick yells.

Borracho runs his hand over his face before directing his gaze at the ceiling.

Once you’ve calmed down, you sit at your desk and the guys give you a few gifts for the baby. Henderson passes out cupcakes (you eat yours and Borracho’s).

“You guys find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Nope. We’re flyin’ blind,” Borracho says, rubbing his hand between your shoulder blades.

“How much money is riding on it being a boy?” You ask, peeling the wrapper off of the second cupcake. The guys look between each other and you tip your head to the side.

“C’mon, if you tell me you’re not betting on it, I am so calling bullshit. Do you know?” You turn to Borracho, but he shakes his head, “Not a clue, sweetness.”

“We’re gonna let it be a surprise. You’ll see,” Nick waves it off.

“Settle down, tiny,” You grumble, looking down at your stomach, “You’ve gotta let mama sleep.”

“Kicking again?” Borracho asks.

“We’re having a soccer player,” You tell him as he comes over to the bed, “Or a can-can dancer.”

“Maybe they’ll do both, why are you trying to limit our baby?” Borracho teases you. You chuckle.

“Maybe they will-- Or maybe they hated that idea,” You wince at a particularly hard kick.

Borracho lays down on his stomach beside you and leans closer to your belly.

“No more kicking your mama, little one,” He murmurs, “We talked about this.”

You raise a brow, peering down at him from where you propped up on a small mountain of pillows.

“Did you?” You ask. He hums, nodding and rubbing a hand over your belly.

“When exactly did you have this talk?” You add, “I feel like I would’ve remembered this.”

“You were napping at the time, sweetness. This was a dad and baby talk.”

You bite your lip, fighting a wide smile.

“Do you have these talks often?”

“Sometimes.”

You reach out, running your fingers through Borracho’s hair.

“...Are you excited?” You ask. You feel like you haven’t asked since… Well, since you told Borracho that you were pregnant. He nods, looking up at you,

“A little nervous,” He admits, “But… Yeah, I’m excited. Are you?”

“Mhm. Not just because I won’t be getting kicked… from the inside, but… I wanna meet our kid.”

Borracho chuckles and sits up, placing his hands on either side of your head and bracing himself as he leans in for a kiss. You smile, reaching up and cupping his cheeks.

“... Well, thank you for the dad and baby talk. Tiny listened to you,” You glance down at your stomach.

“Mm,” Borracho lowers his head and presses a kiss to your neck, “Anytime, sweetness.”

Borracho’s at work when it happens.

You try not to panic.

You just take a deep breath and pick up your phone and call Nadia and say as calmly as you possibly can that your water broke and you need someone to drive you to the hospital. She doesn’t exactly… Answer, at first? She kinda screams - an excited one, but it doesn’t exactly calm you down.

You call Borracho after Nadia tells you that she’ll drop the kids off with Regina and be right over.

“Hey, sweetness. I just followed up with the witness Nick tracked down--”

“My water broke, Benny.”

“...Is this a drill?”

“I know that class we took recommended drills, but I was so not into that idea, it seemed alarmist.”

“Fuck-- Okay, I can--”

“It’s okay, Nadia’s on her way to get me. Just meet us at the hospital.”

“The bag’s--”

“Next to the door, I know, Benny.”

“Are you okay?”

You let out a shaky little laugh because you’re a little freaked out right now.

“It’s gonna be alright, sweetness,” He adds gently, “You sure you don’t want me to come and get you?”

“It’s alright, Nadia’s closer. I’ll see you at the hospital.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetness.”

“She’s so small.”

“...Can’t tell if that’s you or the drugs talking, sweetness.”

“Shush. I’m just… I am just saying… She’s frickin’ tiny.”

“Babies usually are.”

“Stop ruining this for me.”

Borracho chuckles, pushing your hair back from your forehead and pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his forehead against yours. The two of you peer down at your sleeping daughter together, quiet for a few moments.

“Malia Rose Magalon,” You murmur. It’s the first time you’ve said her name aloud.

“...Lia’s got a very tiny nose,” Borracho mumbles.

You’re quiet for a moment before you glance up at him.

“Literally what was I just saying about her being small?”

When the guys come by to see you in the hospital, they have a gift bag with them.

“Guys, what even?” You nod to it.

“Well, you know those bets we had on… Whether or not you were pregnant, boy or girl, that kinda thing…” Henderson lists.

“Uh huh,” You nod.

“Here,” Nick sets the bag on the bed. Borracho carefully lifts Malia out of your arms, shushing her as she whines. You reach into the bag, pushing aside the tissue paper.

“We agreed that the pool money could all go to a… Better cause than usual,” Connors rubs at the back of his neck. You pull out a jar that’s filled with cash, labeled, ‘College Fund’.

“Figured we’d get you guys started,” Zapata adds, tucking his hands into his pockets.

There’s a moment of quiet in the room before Nick laughs, “She’s crying, pay up!”

#The Pool #The Wait #Benny Borracho #Benny Borracho Magalon #Benny Borracho x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho x You #Benny Borracho/You #Benny Borracho/Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Benny Borracho Imagine #Benny Borracho Magalon Imagine #pregnancy cw #Pregnancy #Pregnant CW

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indieboysarehot · 2 years

Text

Hysteric! Nick Zinner x reader series pt. 3

Karen, Nick, and you met up with Brian on the street corner just outside of your apartment.

“Yknow, Ive been waiting here for like…45 minutes, right?” Brian complained all while laughing. He was cooler than ice, and was just playing around with the three of you; he didnt really care about you all being late because he enjoyed the people watching he got to do.

“Yeah sorry, Nick and Y/N were kinda busy doing…things, haha” Karen elbowed Nick, his eyes rolling and sigh escaping from his lips. He loved Karen but he knew she would milk his and your newly established whatever you had for all it was worth. The teasing would be relentless.

You elbowed Karen in the side and gave a side eye that practically screamed “shut the fuck up.” All she did was smirk and shrug her shoulders in response.

“Well, whatever you were doing, I dont really care. All im thinking about is how damn hungry I am right about now.” Brian replied as he started walking, Karen soon following after, catching up to him to leave you and Nick behind them.

He took his hand in yours. It was cold and a little clammy from nervousness, but you didnt mind because you knew yours was too. This was all so new, but you were okay with it…more than okay with it.

The diner was rather, well, greasy. The seats were red and cracked with the foam pushing out of the rips, the windows were stained a dark-ish yellowy color, and the tables were stickier than gum on a sidewalk - this was the band’s and your favorite place to eat. Ah, Marie’s Diner…what a gross, yet lovely place. The reason it was gross was the physical appearance, but the loveliness came from the waitresses who were just as nasty as the outside, but for some reason the four of you - Karen, Nick, Brian, and you - loved the place. You got into your regular booth, Karen and Brian sitting on one side, you and Nick on the other. Under the table, you were still holding hands.

The fake tanned and platinum blonde waitress walked up to your table, popping a bubble of bubble gum as she did.

“Hey,” she had a think New York accent, “welcome to Marie’s, how can I help ya?” She sounded bored and annoyed, but for some reason she was always the one to wait on the fantastic four. It seemed almost like your little group were her favorite 4 customers.

After ordering, Brian spoke first.

“So. Nick, Y/N, what’s going on? Are you two a thing or not.” It sounded almost like and statement than a question.

Nick sat up straight at the question, seemingly a little uncomfortable, yet he answered the question with a solid ‘I dont know.’ You decided to speak up.

“We are.” You said firmly, forgetting about Alex for a quick second, but then your mind went back to him at the moment you tried to forget about him. God….how could you do this to Alex? All he ever was was sweet as hell to you! All he wanted was to love you and take care of you and make sure you were safe and—

Your head started spinning, but you pulled yourself together quickly when you saw that the food you all ordered was being brought out. The meal went on without another single comment about you and Nick, but your mind was swimming with ‘what if’s’ and ‘oh no’s’. There was no way to let Alex down softly without also incriminating yourself and Nick. Great. Perfect. JUST what you wanted to do. How were you going to do this?

Once you all had finished and paid - Nick paid for you - you all got up to leave, but before you could get out of the door you saw Alex walk in. Quickly you pulled your hand away from Nick’s, leaving him frowning and feeling anxious. Had he done something wrong…? That’s what he was thinking until he saw Alex. Fuck, THAT’S why.

Alex smiled at the sight of you. He had flowers.

“Babe! Fancy seein’ you here! I was just about to go to your apartment, but I guess I dont have to now!” He was beaming. That’s one of he reasons why you had fallen in love with him…his damn ecstatic little beautiful smile. Pearly white teeth, smile lines on his cheeks, you were pulled in again; Nick was more jealous than he ever had been in his life. The look in your eyes when you looked at Alex in that moment was almost sickening to him, making him feeling like he was about to lose the food he just ate. Alarm signals went off in his head, and he almost felt like crying. Karen pulled him away so you and Alex could have some privacy, so it didnt look like Nick was basically about to fight the man.

‘Of course, she still loves him. How can she not? He’s..him and I’m…me…’

“Alex! Yeah, fancy seeing you here! Um..I’m glad that you and I could well finally see each other again, Ive been uh..missing you a bit.” You admitted, but in your heart you felt like you were lying to him. Nick was dizzy, he needed to get out of there as fast as possible. There was no WAY he was gonna stay for your and Alex’s love fest.

Karen gave the ravenette a ‘what is going on’ look, and quickly pushed him out of the diner so he wouldn’t have a whole fucking a. fight b. breakdown in public. Nick was one of those people who got jealous pretty quickly and had a tendency to get mouthy with people when his ego felt threatened. You and Alex decided to walk out together and make a date out of the day, but your mind kept returning back to Nick; his smile, his eyes, his fluffy hair, his all angles body..the morning..the confession…just him.

With your date over with, you decided to walk downtown to Nick’s apartment - a little studio apartment with one window, a clothing rack of black clothes and random t-shirts, 2 guitars, a keyboard, and a tiny tiny kitchen…oh and a bed on the floor. Your home away from home. Having spent tons of time over at his place, you knew exactly how to get there, but it was late and dark and you were just a bit scared of walking so late at night.

‘I should’ve just waited until tomorrow! If im lucky I won’t get fucking murdered or robbed or whatever!’ You reprimanded yourself for even doing this in the first place, but you wanted - needed to tell Nick something.

You made it to his apartment I one piece and knocked on his door. No answer. Another knock. Still no answer. One more knock, and guess what, STILL NO ANSWER. Either he wasnt home - which concerned you - or he was right on the other side of the door sulking.

“Nick! I know youre in there. Just let me in, please? Seriously, I need to talk—“ The door unlocked and soon enough the pseudo-goth man was letting you into his room, kitchen, closet apartment.

The two of you were silent were a long time, about 30 minutes, just sitting on his mattress. Nick spoke up.

“Y/N, seeing you with Alex today—“

“I broke up with him.”

Nick’s eyes widened and he fought back a smile. “What?”

“I broke up with him.” You repeated yourself. For some reason thinking about having broken up with Alex both hurt and also made you happy - hurt because you did love Alex, but happy because you and Nick could be together now.

Nick was silent for a second, took a deep inhale, and then grabbed for a cigarette to smoke. He needed to collect his thoughts and a nice, bitter cigarette usually helped him in doing that. He handed you one, and, accepting, you lit it. The silence was almost deafening to the both of you, so Nick spoke up.

“So what does this like..mean for us..?”

“It means, yknow, I’m available, and that I literally broke up with my boyfriend to be with you.”

To be continued….

------------------------

Guys I almost did the exact same thing that happened with the Nick Valensi fix where I accidentally pasted instead of copied and the fucked up the fix, but I managed to save this! Anyways, expect smith spicy in the next part! Love ya!

#nick zinner #Nick Zinner x reader #2000s garage rock #2000s indie music #2000s indie #yeah yeah yeahs #the yeah yeah yeahs #ugh hes so hot

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ericsonclan · 3 years

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A Star-Filled Scavenger Hunt

Summary: Violet goes to the diner and finds a note that starts a scavenger hunt.

Word Count: 2193

Read on AO3:

Violet could feel the coldness tickling her skin as she entered the diner. Her body inadvertently shook a bit as she stuffed her hands into the cream-colored jacket she was wearing. Leaning over to flick on a light, Violet felt her eyes readjust to the newfound brightness that filled up the empty restaurant. The blonde rummaged around in her back pocket and pulled out her phone. The lock screen picture of her and Louis appeared. Louis was wrapping his arm around Violet’s shoulder in the shot, a huge grin plastered on his face while she looked over at him with a somewhat annoyed expression even though a small smile was on her face. Somehow Louis could always figure out Violet’s passcode and each time he’d proceed to change the lockscreen to a picture of them.

Violet unlocked her phone and opened up the text message from Prisha. She had read it right. Her girlfriend had asked her to come to Ericson’s Diner but it made no sense. Louis had closed the restaurant for Christmas Eve and the following day. Yet Prisha wanted to meet here, saying it was important. Luckily Violet had been with Sophie. The pair had been driving around picking up more candy canes since Sophie and Minnie had ended up eating them all early. It was a pleasant, relaxing drive with the two of them. Sophie always gave Violet the right space she needed when it came to conversations and she had even offered to buy her some chicken nuggets as a thanks for coming along. Violet of course had agreed to the offer and after that when the sky was growing darker she had received the text from Prisha.

Violet tapped her feet on the mat to get any residual snow off her shoes before strolling further in. She was sure Prisha was on her way; she didn’t mind waiting for a few minutes. That's when her foot kicked something on the ground, making a faint sound. Glancing down, Violet furrowed her eyebrow when she noticed a small dark blue greeting card on the floor. She leaned over and picked it up, noticing the multitude of stars that dusted the card. In the center of it was something written in Prisha’s cursive handwriting. Thus starts the scavenger hunt this Christmas Eve. Should you find all the clues, a gift you shall receive.

Prisha had put together a scavenger hunt? Violet glanced at the card again and noticed an arrow on the bottom right hand corner. Turning the card over, she saw that the first riddle was on the back. The blood red treat that brought you near and made me fill your heart with fear. Violet’s nose scrunched as she looked at the clue. She was never the best with riddles. Violet sat down in one of the chairs and tried to think of what it could be. A blood red treat…. Violet’s mind was drawing a blank. The only treat she could think of was chicken nuggets and those were anything but red.

The blonde paused when it dawned on her - she usually had ketchup with her whenever she devoured chicken nuggets. Violet glanced down at the next part, “that brought you near….. made me fill your heart with fear.” She tapped her finger against the table when it came to her. The bar. Violet ran over and got behind the bar. She knelt down and opened up the cabinet, pushing aside some booze to reveal the second hint card. A small smile appeared on Violet’s face. To think that Prisha would use the first time they met as a riddle. It was clever.

Crawling out of the cabinet, Violet looked at her next clue. Gum may be hidden beneath this place. ‘Twas also where we ended up face to face. The gum line was easy. Violet knew Prisha was talking about the tables. No matter how many times she or any of the waitresses had told the customers, it didn’t stop them from sticking their used gum under the tables. But when had the tables ever led to cuddling?

Violet leaned against the bar’s counter and glanced at the tables. It would take her way too long to look under all the tables. Well, that wasn't necessarily true, but still it was something that Violet would want to avoid. Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor, her pale green eyes wandering across it when an idea formed in her mind. A while back a storm had hit the diner and it had forced them to stay inside. They needed to stay through the night and she and Prisha ended up snuggling together, falling asleep in each other’s arms. The memory made a smile appear on the blonde’s face as a warm, fuzzy feeling fluttered around in her heart. Kicking off the bar counter, Violet wandered around, her mind trying to remember where they had been cuddling. When she had reached what she guessed was the spot she knelt down and looked under the table.

“Way to go me,” Violet whispered to herself as she snatched up the next dark blue clue card. Taking a seat, she began to read the card. Facts and figures here you’ll find and the third clue should you focus your mind. Violet placed the card down and stared at it. Facts and figures… Violet’s gaze wandered over to the hallways which led to the different staff rooms. One of which Aasim would use to crunch numbers. That had to be what Prisha meant. With a harsh push Violet rose to her feet and casually strolled over to the office.

Using her set of keys, she pushed open the door and found the next card standing proudly on the pile of papers that covered Aasim’s desk. Violet picked up the card, a small rush of excitement coursing through her veins at the prospect of another clue. This scavenger hunt was turning out to be fun. The riddle read: Next a place that sets dishes aflame. To my heart I say you did the same. The last part of the riddle made Violet’s heart do a little flip. It only took a second for her to guess the location for this one. It had to be the kitchen, although she wasn’t sure how happy Omar would be if he knew that Prisha had called the kitchen a place where they set dishes aflame. Oh well, the next riddle awaited.

Violet exited the office and went down the corridor until she got to a set of doors. Pushing them open, she slipped into the kitchen but she didn’t see the card right away. Maybe she had gotten it wrong. Violet shook her head slightly. No, she had to be right. She just needed to search for a bit. The blonde wandered around the kitchen, looking for the next card her girlfriend had hid. After a few minutes of looking, Violet had found the fourth card that was tucked away beside one of the grills. Snatching up the card with a smile, Violet flipped it to see the next clue. This is the last step of your many tasks. Where might a girl sneak a nap you ask?

Sneak a nap? Where even was there in the diner where that could be done? Violet’s eyes grew large when it hit her. She remembered telling Prisha about the time she had snuck in a nap when Mitch and Prisha had been pranking Louis about that comment he’d made to Clementine about cherries. Not wasting a second, Violet scampered off to the last place of the scavenger hunt. When she had successfully unlocked the door she moved into the room to see the last card on the table.

“Victory Violet,” Violet smiled proudly as she picked up the last card that read: Congrats on completing the Christmas Eve scavenger hunt. Send me a text and I’ll be over to give you the gift. Violet’s hand wandered to her phone and with a few quick taps she sent the message. The blonde sat down on one of the chairs, excited for whatever gift Prisha was bringing.

-----

Prisha lay on her couch, a nervous expression plaguing her face as she stared up at the ceiling. It had been a while since Violet had presumably shown up to the diner. Which meant she should be nearing the end of the scavenger hunt. The creaking of one of the floorboards drew Prisha’s attention to her chubby, longhair grey cat.

“What do you think, Sir Tubbs - Did I make the riddles too tough?”

The cat glanced over at his owner for a second then walked over towards her. Silently Sir Tubbs hopped up and got on top of Prisha before plopping over and covering her face. A sound akin of a rusty old motor emitted from the cat, showing that he was purring.

“You never answered my question,” Prisha’s muffled voice appeared below the cat. She let out a tired sigh and allowed the cat to remain on her face for a minute until a small dinging sound made her jolt up. Sir Tubbs let out a surprised smokey meow, landing directly in Prisha’s lap. With a flick of his tail he sprung off the couch and began to search for a new place for his nap. Prisha reached for her phone, an excited smile appearing on her face when she saw it was from Violet. The text made it clear - she had finished the scavenger hunt. Jumping up from her spot, Prisha ran around to find the gifts and put on her coat before locking the door to their apartment and heading towards Ericson’s Diner.

-----

Violet casually kicked her feet under the table. It had been awhile since she sent that text. Hopefully Prisha hadn’t fallen asleep or something. If she had, Violet would have to call one of her friends to pick her up since she had no ride home. Violet was about to seriously consider that option when the sound of the front door opening and the strong winter wind made her stand up. Gentle footsteps grew louder with each passing second until Prisha opened the door to the break room, the smile on her face growing when she saw her girlfriend.

“I see you completed the scavenger hunt,” Prisha walked forward and placed a gentle kiss on Violet’s cheek. The coldness of her lips made a shiver run down Violet’s spine.

“Yeah, I’m not the best with riddles but I was able to figure them out,” Violet reached forward and took Prisha’s hand in hers. “So,” Violet swayed their joined hands back and forth. “What’s the gift?”

Prisha gave a soft smile. “Right, the gift. I’m going to need you to close your eyes for a minute.”

Violet raised an eyebrow but immediately did what Prisha asked and closed her eyes. Prisha waved a hand in front of her girlfriend’s face to make sure her eyes were closed before opening the door and grabbing the backpack she had placed there. Taking out a star projector, Prisha put the power cord into the outlet and set it gently on the floor. Flicking off the lights, she clicked on the projection which filled the room with stars. The base of the projectors slowly rotated, making the stars dance around the walls. Prisha smiled and moved to grab the other gift, hiding it behind her back.

“Okay, you may open your eyes.”

Violet’s eyes fluttered open, widening when she saw the room filled with stars. “Holy shit,” Violet slowly turned around in a circle, admiring the stars.

“That’s only the first of the gifts,” Prisha’s voice made Violet look towards her and notice that she was hiding something behind her back. “There is one more.” Slowly Prisha moved her hands forward and revealed the last gift. There in her hands was a small dark blue hand-sewn teddy bear. Its fur was covered with small stars here and there and on the center of its stomach it had the constellation of Orion. Violet stared at the gift in awe, her hands carefully picking it up.

“I hope it’s alright. I’m not the most adept at sewing but I wanted to make you a handmade gift to go along with the star projector,” Prisha motioned over to the rotating device.

“Alright?” Violet looked up at her girlfriend with a warm smile. “Prisha, I… It’s perfect. Thank you.” Violet wrapped her arms around the star bear and held it close to her chest. Prisha’s smile grew at those words and in a single motion she captured Violet’s lips in a soft, loving kiss. Violet leaned into the kiss, deepening it before the pair pulled apart. The two looked at each other with a loving smile.

“Merry Christmas, Violet.”

“Merry Christmas, Prisha.” Violet moved forward and wrapped her girlfriend in a warm hug, nuzzling her face against Prisha’s collarbone. Prisha returned the hug and gently placed her head on top of Violet’s. The two stayed in that moment, happy for each other, the winter holiday and all the joy that it had brought along with it.

#twdg #twdg violet #twdg prisha #twdg privet #twdg sir tubbs #twdg christmas #fanfic #ericson's diner au #ericsonclanchristmaschallenge

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softbiker · 4 years

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Born to Run - Chapter 14

Warnings: cursing, little editing, brief descriptions of violence

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: AND WE’RE BACK SURPRISE!! Seriously though, I feel horrible that I haven’t been able to update in so long - I was doing so well at first with the weekly updates and then it just kind of...stopped. Things got difficult. Sorry. But here we are, keeping things going with this fic! I’m excited! As always, feedback is appreciated!

There’s something heavy across her waist when she wakes up.

She shimmies, trying to dislodge it, but the firm pressure only tightens when she does. Something warm snuffled at the back of her neck, the feel of soft whiskers scratching, and it’s - oh.

Bucky.

A little thrill shot down her spine - still does, even after these last few weeks. He’s only spent the night a couple of times - and the two of them remain somewhat clothed - but still. Her heartbeat picked up as he sighed again, breath coming hot along her neck.

She couldn’t shake this feeling, this nagging little notion, that she’d gone zero to 60 the moment she met him; in spite of the fact that they were taking things slow, something her trust issues and his gentleman’s upbringing insisted on, her brain felt like she was on a high-speed roller coaster, white-knuckling as she hurtled along the tracks awaiting the inevitable corkscrews and hairpin turns that would make her stomach drop.

Of course, with roller coasters, it helped if you had someone’s hand to hold.

She wiggled again in Bucky’s grip, trying to turn and face him, but he groaned in protest and tightened his spooning position. She rolled her eyes a little, patting his hand where it rested on her stomach.

“Such a baby,” she sighed, morning voice little more than a croak.

Bucky groaned again.

“‘S too early,” he grumbled, the sound muffled into the space between her hair and her pillow.

“Maybe for you,” Y/N huffed. “Some of us have jobs, you know.”

“I have a job,” he snorted.

“Oh yeah? Besides being a sexy biker?”

She heard his low growl rumbling before he quickly rolled to put his weight on top of her, his fingers wiggling into the soft flesh at her sides. She squealed and bucked under him, trying to escape, but he was too heavy to dislodge and she was way too ticklish to let him keep torturing her.

“Okay! Uncle! Uncle!” she cried, breathless. His fingers stilled, but his hands maintained their grip on her waist, the weight of his chest holding her down as he smiled, his face a few inches above hers.

“Hi,” he stage-whispered. His bed-head was in full disarray after his tickle attack, random strands fluffed out in different directions and hanging in front of his eyes. She blew a puff of breath past her lips, amused at the way he wrinkled his nose as the wayward hairs waved back in his face.

Good morning,” she smiled back, still catching her breath from the assault.

He leaned down for a kiss - a morning kiss, soft and tender, a small taste to break the night-long fast. The tip of his nose traced the length of hers.

“Still too early,” he hummed, lips working their way across her cheeks and nose and eyelids.

“Mm?” she hummed back, eyes closed.

“You know it’s Saturday, right?” he half-chuckled, nuzzling down into her neck. “Don’t have anywhere to be for a while.”

She peeked one eye open, a suspicious smile tilting up one corner of her mouth.

“I know that voice,” she bit her lip. He didn’t answer, leaving his face in its hiding place at her neck. “What are you planning, Barnes?”

“Somethin’ you’ll like,” he grinned, hands sliding down to the hem of her t-shirt.

“More like ‘something that’ll get you past second base’?” she teased. No matter how she played coy, though, her body couldn’t repress a shiver at his touch, fingers slowly climbing the skin under her shirt.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, honey.”

His head popped up and he gave her a sly wink. Surprised laughter sputtered from her lips, soon cut off by a firm kiss, his own laugh pressed into her mouth.

They didn’t get out of bed for a while that morning.

**********

Natasha dug in her pocket for an elusive piece of bubblegum she knew she had stashed there. It was becoming frustrating - the pocket was only so big. Maybe she put it on the other side?

The diner she was waiting in - Lakeview family restaurant - was the only decent place to eat in the next town over. A cup of black coffee, half-finished, sat on the table in front of her; she’s had two refills already and knows she should stop -

There it is.

Fingers grasped the missing bubblegum and wiggled it out from her jacket pocket. She popped it in her mouth with no hesitation, crinkling the wrapper and letting it fall to the table.

Another glance at her watch. She’s never known him to be late.

She had been disappointed, but not surprised, when Y/N didn’t take the deal. In fact, she acted like their conversation never happened - diving headfirst into this fling with Barnes, the two of them apparently believing this could somehow...happen at all. A happy ending, a real life? The secrets were stacked against them, Natasha knew. Barnes knew, too, but she suspected he was thinking somewhere lower than his brain in all this. He had been from the moment the good doctor moved in across the street. And the rest of the gang seemed all too happy to welcome her into the fold, ignoring the very inconvenient facts about their real identities, their jobs, their presence in this town. It could’ve gotten her killed. Almost did.

Which was why Nat only trusted one head in the group - the one on her shoulders.

She was doing this for them. They’d understand, maybe not at first, but eventually. And even if they didn’t, she could live with their anger. Better than their blood.

It’s taken a few weeks to get things in order, but she had finally made the call. Clearly, extraction was the best case scenario for the team now. The longer they lingered on this job, got comfortable with Hydra’s silence after Rumlow’s death? She didn’t want to play those odds.

A bell dinged above the diner door. She didn’t turn, refolding the gum wrapper in her hand as the booted footsteps approached slowly, quiet on the tile floor. She didn’t even look up when he wrapped his knuckles once against the table, before sliding into the booth across from her.

“Romanoff.”

“Fury.”

“Been a while,” Nick Fury raised his good brow as he leaned forward to prop his elbows on the table.

“Well, you know how it is, Nick. Busy with work,” she smirked drily.

The waitress returned, pen at the ready, and Fury requested a coffee and whatever fresh pie they had that day. Whipped cream on the side, please.

“You know, my doctor tried to convince me to try going keto,” he said conversationally as they waited. “Something about keeping my blood sugar steady.” He shrugged. “Decided I didn’t hate myself enough to do that.”

Nat rolled her eyes a little, unable to hide her small smile. She had missed Nick. But this, the chit-chat, the minutiae, was never what they were good at. People like them were rarely good at small talk.

“So.” He turned the skewered bite of apple on his fork, gliding it through the whipped cream before taking a slow bite. “I understand you have a proposition for me.”

“I do.”

He pursed his lips, nodded, never lifting his eyes from his plate.

“Then let’s hear it.”

**********

They were slipping.

Rogers. Barnes. The Avengers.

From what they can tell, the self-righteous pricks are too far up their own asses to see what’s been going on. No one saw his men tailing them on every run. No one noticed their movement in the shadows of the town, the palms they greased, the eyes that looked the other way. Nobody was looking when their numbers doubled in size, weapons making their way through with the new men. It all hummed under the surface, dry winter air nearly crackling with the static.

Any day now, any moment - all it would take was some friction, a spark, to light the whole thing up. Burn the fucking Avengers to the ground.

Which is why he was very careful to avoid such friction. No contact - that was the rule. Keep your head down, mouth shut, do what you’re told, and don’t start shit. All the men knew, and they were scared shitless of the boss, so they obeyed. But they were restless, he knew. Itching, jumpy, knuckles cracking. They wanted a fight, and he wouldn’t hold them back much longer.

No, not much longer now.

He knew an old friend of the boss would be passing through today - on to the next town over. Better head that way if he was gonna get to the rendezvous point on time.

**********

“I put together this team, you know.”

“They were already a unit when they were deployed in Afghanistan-”

“Yeah, yeah but I hand picked them all for this assignment,” Fury waved her off. “And now you’re telling me I made the wrong call?”

Nat sighed through her nose.

“I’m not saying they’re wrong for the job, but they’ve been out here for a long time and…” she glanced out the window at they highway just beyond the gravel parking lot. “To be frank, Barnes is compromised and the rest are content to let it happen. They need to be pulled out of the field to regroup. Period.”

“Mm.” Nick sipped his coffee. “And this has nothing to do with your...history with Barnes?”

“Don’t patronize me, Nick. I’m a damn professional, not a child. You know that better than anyone.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

They stared at each other across the table for a moment - Nat with her arms crossed, a deep line between her brows. Nick seemed content with a hand wrapped around his coffee cup, empty plate scraped clean of crumbs and whipped cream pushed away from him on the table.

“I trust your judgment, Romanoff,” Nick finally sighed, draining his coffee. “So what’s the move here?”

“Simple. Call it in, move on the evidence we have to clear Hydra off the streets, and send the team home for debrief,” she shrugged. “We’ve got more than enough to keep these guys put away for a little while - long enough that we can come up with a long-term plan and pump them for more intel on Hydra’s shadier business deals. Gotta be a weak link in there somewhere.”

“You gonna get ‘em to talk?”

“Somebody always talks.”

“Okay,” Nick nodded. “It’s far from the worst idea you’ve ever had. But I’m gonna have to make some pretty important phone calls. Probably have to go all the way to Pierce on this one.”

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” Nat tilted her head to one side. “You can salvage this whole operation before it goes south - now tell me that’s not worth a little bit of groveling to your boss.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one having to do it.”

“I don’t beg, Nick,” she smirked. “You know that.”

He huffed, shaking his head.

“Oh, I know.” He rolled his good eye as he started to shuffle out of the booth. Natasha stood up too, readjusting the jacket around her shoulders. The sun was just starting to slip beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across the parking lot outside the window. Her bike sat next to his sleek black SUV, the only visible vehicles parked on this side of the building.

Fury gave her a long look as he patted down his pockets, leaving a sizable tip for the waitress tucked under his coffee cup. Nat refused to meet his gaze, standing with her arms crossed, green eyes scanning the room. The other patrons at the cafe paid them no attention, as they slowly walked to the door side-by-side, Nat’s boots clicking softly on the tile floor.

“You don’t need to worry about this, Romanoff,” Nick sighed, pushing through the door first. The little bell above the door announced their departure. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“I’m not worried.”

He stopped at the door of his car, good eye sliding sideways for a glance at her. She was already straddling her bike.

“You’ll be hearing from me soon,” he waved, almost drowned out by the roar of her bike starting. He laughed under his breath, humorless, nostalgic, as she revved the engine a moment before throwing up gravel under the tires as she peeled away from the diner. He tried not to be irritated about the paint job on his car - already streaked with mud from these unfamiliar roads.

The highway was nearly deserted, nearly dark, as he started the long drive back to the city. Romanoff might not be worried - though he suspected otherwise - but Nick certainly was. It wasn’t like her to pull a stunt like this, and it wasn’t like his hand-picked team of Avengers to get sloppy on the job. And then there was the sudden silence from Hydra in the last weeks since their ringleader’s death; his team, and his higher ups at the agency, had always known there was someone else, a hidden hand pulling strings, but could never quite get the bastard to show their face. And now, when they all could feel something building like a wave, about to crest, Nat wants to pull the team out.

He shook his head. Too much to think about and a long drive ahead. His hand reached for the radio dial, searching past country stations and bluegrass stations and the lonely pop station - he settled on gospel, surprising himself. But it made him think of his mother, so he left it there. Flicked on the headlights, and then the high beams, showing him nothing in the darkening night besides the road stretching ahead and the now-empty fields, nearly flooded from last week’s rain.

After a while - could’ve been an hour, could’ve been 20 minutes - he heard them in the distance, that distinct roar of engines. His ears pricked; they were coming from behind him, the direction of town. Maybe Natasha changed her mind? Maybe the rest of the team was offended he didn’t drop by and they were going to haul him back to the compound for a barbecue.

Maybe he’s become one of those goddamn idiots who’s dumb enough to believe in luck.

When their headlights came around a curve a quarter mile behind him, he was nearly blinded by the sheer number. The noise was nearly deafening, and he flattened his foot against the accelerator, mentally calculating the miles between towns. Too far in either direction.

That was when he saw the group coming towards him, too.

With a steady stream of curses under his breath, he dialed Natasha’s phone number. The phone rang, twice, three times - he glanced over and saw that two of the bikes had pulled alongside him, riders covered head to toe in black leather, white skulls painted on their helmets.

“Motherfuckers,” he hissed. A jerk of his steering wheel, just a threat, and they braked a little, backing off. But there were three more directly behind him, not to mention the ones further back and up ahead.

“Come on, Romanoff-”

“Nick?”

“Natasha - we made a mistake, they’re moving now-”

“Nick, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

The two bikers had pulled alongside him again, speeding up and slowing down to stay just out of his reach. One of them reached over to his hip, raising an arm right at the car-

The pop of the gun and his front tire were almost simultaneous; the car went squealing and swerving across the road, black marks burned into the pavement, before a wild swing of the wheel sent it flipping into the deep ditch next to the highway, where it landed upside down and creaking.

“Nick what the hell just happened?”

“Nick are you there?”

“Nick?”

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel fic #avengers #avengers fic

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pussymagicuniverse · 5 years

Text

Party Favor

by Krista Diamond

On her first week in Las Vegas, Clare wore a red bikini to an interview for a poolside cocktailing job. She landed the position immediately. It didn’t matter that the bikini was five years old and from the discount rack; her body looked expensive.

She shifted from the pool job to a cocktail gig in a high-limit poker room, and then quit when she found something better. Each day she retreated back to the terrace of her high-rise apartment where she’d survey the city, squinting as if she could see the flood channels that ran like veins under the streets.

Clare had fallen in with a crowd of club promoters and bartenders and fine dining servers early on—Jessica, Tyler, Charlotte and Brian. They’d seen her alone on a Wednesday night at Intrigue and invited her to their booth, mostly because another pretty face would mean more free drinks.

Her mother had always told her that it was important to have friends.

“Your teacher says you don’t play with anyone at recess,” she’d said when Clare was in first grade. “She called you a lone wolf.”

Lone wolf. At six she’d pictured herself as a wolf with blonde hair, weaving through a foggy forest. Sometimes the image still came to mind.

She decided to make friends anyway, because this new city felt like the kind of place where she could try as many strange things as she wanted. Plus the doormen at clubs often regarded her with skepticism when she arrived alone and she didn’t like that. These friends were a vampiric group who prowled Las Vegas Boulevard at night and slept through the daylight hours. Twenty-somethings who made more money than their parents and somehow still lived above their means. They all had apartments in sleek high-rise buildings, but none of them had the patience to shop for furniture, dish towels, pots and pans. They’d held onto their college dorm habits, subsisting on takeout and sleeping on mattresses without bed frames.

Clare’s one-bedroom inside a gilded tower called Sky was immaculate, cool and white. She washed her dresses by hand and hung them to dry on the railing of her balcony. She liked the way the sequins and bright colors looked, drying in the sun high above the hot streets.

•

On a Wednesday afternoon, her mother called and asked, “Are you still liking it?”

“I love the city,” Clare said. She stood in her lavender silk robe on her balcony and counted the shiny limousines that passed by below.

“Well,” her mother said, “Don’t fall into the trap.”

“What trap? Happiness?”

“No. The one where you wait tables forever instead of using your college degree.”

“I’m not waiting tables anymore,” Clare said.

“You should find a nice boy,” her mother said. “I was married when I was your age.”

And then her phone beeped with a call from Charlotte or Jessica or Tyler or Brian (hopefully Brian), probably wondering where she was going that night and if they could meet her there.

“Mom,” she said, “I’m going to have to let you go.”

She switched over to the other line—it was Charlotte, asking her if they should meet for happy hour before the club. Clare half-listened while mentally going through her wardrobe. Had she worn the red dress that week? Could she pair the satin Jimmy Choos with the gold skirt?

“Uh-huh,” she said.

No, the leopard print dress. Or the purple one with the velvet. Yes, that was the one.

•

Wednesday night started with martinis at STK, followed by oysters and hamachi at Momofuku, then after-dinner cocktails at Chandelier Bar. Clare drank club soda. She liked to be in control.

Brian sat at the head of the table, a thousand miles from Clare, glancing at her from beneath his inscrutable brow. She had never had a boyfriend, but whenever she pictured what he would look like she saw Brian’s face. She imagined sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him at some noodle shop, holding hands on the way to movies, or wherever it was couples went.

Clare only knew how to fuck, how to climb on top of someone in the back of a limo at 4 a.m., one palm pressed against the ceiling of the car, the other pressed against the window as they drove down Las Vegas Boulevard past the pink lights of the Flamingo, the glowing golden Eiffel Tower and the advertisements that read Girls direct to you!

“Harder,” she’d say to whoever it was, because that was what they all liked. It was what she liked too.

But she couldn’t imagine saying that to Brian. He was pale with dark features and the body of a runner. He caught her studying him and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This was the kind of man she should be with. Clare wanted him, she thought, or at least she was supposed to want him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, grinning. He gave her a little kick from under the table. He wasn’t as far away as she’d thought.

She pictured him in her bed, soft and slow, his voice in the dark asking, “Is this okay?”

After the restaurant, the limo deposited the group outside of the nightclub. A line of girls in stilettos and nearly identical sparkly dresses slid out of cars.

The bottle service was comped as usual. Clare felt emboldened in the dark. She climbed onto their table, dancing in the slow blue light, running her hands over her body, tracing her tongue across her lips. But when she looked down at Brian, his eyes weren’t on her.

“Fine,” she said, to herself, to him—not that it mattered, because the music was too loud for anyone to hear her voice. She climbed over the crushed velvet booth onto the neighboring table.

“What are you doing?” Jessica called.

She moved her hips, her shoulders in slow motion for them, arching her back.

The boys in the booth cheered, and Clare climbed into the lap of the handsomest one. He had the clean-shaven face of a college athlete.

“We’re going to an after-hours club after this,” he yelled over the music. “Do you want to come?”

Thirty seconds later they were kissing. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, their tongues pressing against each others.

“There she goes again, leaving with some guy,” she heard someone from her table say, but she was already walking away.

Clare walked down the Strip with the group of boys. The sky was fading from deep blue to soft purple, and the neon lights were turning off one by one. These were the moments when she truly loved the city, when it was settling into itself like an animal turning in circles before bedding down.

“Thank god for after-hours clubs,” she said, as they arrived at the entrance. The nightclub had opened at 4 a.m. and it would stay open until 9 a.m.

The boy’s friends left at 6 a.m., saying something about 99-cent prime rib 24-hours a day. After they were gone, she pulled the boy into a bathroom stall.

He kissed her neck. “Should we go back to my…?”

“No need for that,” she said, unzipping his pants.

When they were finished, she left the dark nightclub and stepped into the piercing wall of sun.

Her phone rang.

“Come meet us for breakfast,” Jessica said. “I know you’re still up, you little monster.”

The diner was a mile away, but Clare decided to walk. Las Vegas in the morning felt illicit and strange, like walking in on the rehearsal of a play before the performance. The air was clean and soft and the buildings seemed faded and blank. She made her way past the kiosks staffed by bored looking girls chewing gum, past the open doors of casinos and past the crowds of families on vacation, all clad in sweatshirts that said Las Vegas in cursive. The mothers glared at her, and she wondered if her own mother would scowl at her too, or if she’d even recognize her at all.

•

Thursday was a few bottles of wine at The Dorsey (iced tea for Clare), spaghetti and meatballs at LAVO and then her least favorite nightclub, TAO. She’d been kicked out a year ago for giving a blowjob to a man in a silver-gray suit. Every time she went back she was afraid the bouncer’s eyes would catch hers and light up with recognition.

She sat beside Brian in the booth. They exchanged nervous smiles.

“What’d you do today?” she asked him. She’d never seen him—or any of them—in the daylight.

“I got up early and went for a hike,” he said.

She imagined herself bobbing along on the trail behind him in the wrong shoes.

“What’d you do?”

At sunrise, she’d skinny-dipped in a private pool at The Palms, her pulse throbbing with splendor as the man’s fingers slid inside her.

“Oh, nothing.”

Later that night, Clare met up with a traveling salesman in his room at MGM Grand. It was one of the suites the hotel referred to as Sky Lofts, the kind of room with multiple stories and floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the rainbow lights.

“What do you think of my suite?” the man said, whiskey drunk as he fucked her against the window. She could feel him going soft inside of her.

“I’ve seen better,” she said.

Friday was the pool at Mandalay Bay. Calamari at Skyfall Lounge. A booth at The Light. Missionary position on top of the sheets at The Cromwell.

Saturday was Rhumbar. Lobster at Stack. Dancing at 1OAK. Anal sex at The Mirage.

Sunday was Rosina. Nothing to eat at the steakhouse. A strip club she didn’t know the name of. A threeway with two Georgia frat boys.

•

On Monday, Clare slept until 6pm. She hated the hollow feeling she got when she woke up as the sun was setting. It reminded her of staying home sick from school as a kid, sleeping all day and then waking up to darkness outside her window and the smell of her mother making her grilled cheese downstairs.

She was naked. She could always tell how late she’d been out the night before based on what she was wearing when she woke up. Actual pajamas meant 1am. Last night’s clothes meant 4am. Naked meant after the rest of the world had gone to work. She climbed out of bed, wrapping herself in her robe. She picked up her phone to call for something to eat, or some Aspirin, or a Diet Coke, maybe. But she realized she wanted none of that. She wondered what Brian was doing in his apartment. She wondered what they’d be doing if he was in her apartment. He’d be making dinner reservations, or maybe saying, “Let’s stay in and watch a movie. I’ll go get Chinese takeout.”

And when her phone buzzed—Charlotte, asking if she wanted to meet for dinner at Nobu and go to Omnia after—she told herself she was going to stay in, but of course that was a lie. She was already slipping into her heels.

•

Clare was nervous, thirsty.

When she met them at 9:15, they were already sitting, their heads close together, crowded around something Jessica was holding. Tyler was drinking beer from a pint glass and saying, “No way, no way.” Charlotte had one hand over her mouth. Brian’s expression was as indecipherable as ever. They didn’t look up until Clare was standing right in front of them.

Clare didn’t need to look at the flyer to know what it said, but she did anyway. The flyers were a part of the business. They were not optional, but even if she could have opted out of appearing on one, she wouldn’t have. It gave her a thrill to see her photograph, hair tousled, lips parted, her hands on her breasts.

Hot sexy babes direct to your hotel room, it read. It had never occurred to her that these friends might see the flyer, but she supposed it was inevitable. Still, she would have liked it to have been on her terms. She straightened her shoulders and peered at her friends, waiting for their reaction.

Tyler’s eyes were fixed on her, examining her body as if he were seeing it for the first time.

“Is this where you go when you disappear from the club?” Charlotte asked her.

Everyone at the table was looking at her, watching her resolve fade away. She tried to maintain her composure, tried to get the words that she wanted to say out: This is what turns me on. I’m not ashamed.

But they were looking at her with scorn, with amusement and worst of all, they were looking at her like they felt sorry for her.

She’d been fucked on a pool table in front of a cheering bachelor party, she’d been tied to a bed and burned with candle wax, she’d had a fist in her pussy, two hands on her neck. Every bit of it had made her want more, more, more.

This was a first for Clare, this moment with these friends. This was the first time she’d ever experienced shame.

•

Clare woke up in pajamas the next afternoon to a knock at the door. She turned the knob and there was Brian, standing in a white t-shirt and faded jeans, his hair still damp from the shower.

“I hope it’s okay,” he said. “Your doorman let me in.”

She rested one hand against the frame of the door and looked at him, trying to figure out what he wanted.

“I guess maybe your building needs tighter security,” Brian said. And when Clare said nothing he smiled slightly and added. “It was a joke.”

“I know,” she said, softening. “I’m just not used to having people knock on this door.”

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. He followed her into the apartment and sat down on the couch. She stood against the wall, her arms crossed, covering her body.

“I don’t have any coffee or anything to offer you,” she said.

“That’s okay.”

The light in the apartment was flat. Outside the sky was white. She felt exposed, having him in her space.

“Listen,” Brian began and then stopped and looked directly at her. “Can you come sit down?”

Clare moved to the couch, studying his face in the light.

“I just wanted to say that I think last night was really messed up. I needed you to know that I had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh,” she said, her body flooding with relief.

He moved closer to her. “I was up all night thinking about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Clare said. “I’m fine.”

“It’s not that,” he said.

And then he was reaching for her, his hands cupping her face and pulling it towards his. He pressed his mouth against hers and she kissed him back, desperately. She could smell the soap. She could feel the muscles of his back beneath his cotton shirt.

He rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “I’m going to save you from all this.”

Something inside her stomach tightened. Brian put his hand on her left breast and squeezed. His mouth was wet against her ear.

“But first I’m going to show you what it’s like to be fucked by someone who’s not paying you,” he said.

He pressed her into the cushions of the couch, pushing up her shirt and pulling down her pajama shorts, and then he pulled down his jeans, his underwear, leaving his shirt on. His tongue darted into her mouth, stabbing her.

“You don’t have to pretend with me like you do with them,” he said, pushing himself inside of her. He moved without rhythm, gasping until he thrust one last time and collapsed on top of her.

“Brian,” she whispered. “I don’t pretend with them.”

He pulled himself out from her and stood abruptly.

“Then what are you?” he asked. “A whore?”

She studied him, standing over her, this boy who had climbed to the 30th floor of the tower she lived in, thinking he could rescue her like a knight. But she lived in a high rise apartment, not a castle. This wasn’t Camelot; this was Las Vegas.

“You can let yourself out,” she said.

The door slammed shut and Clare laid there, breathing in and out in the amber light, watching the citrus colored sun fall over the balcony. She stretched her limbs like a cat in a sunbeam. She stayed there for a while, watching the shadows lengthen, listening to the helicopters return from day trip tours to the Grand Canyon.

After the sun dropped below the Spring Mountains, she pulled herself off of the couch and made her way to her closet. It was just her now.

She stood there naked, running her hands over the sparkling dresses on hangers. There was the pink one with the lace, the black one with the leather and the blue one with the flowers. The phone rang, and it was a number she didn’t recognize. A smile spread over her face.

The pink one, she decided. Yes, of course.

Krista Diamond's fiction and personal essays have appeared in Barrelhouse, Barren Magazine, Longleaf Review, After Happy Hour Review and elsewhere. She also regularly contributes to Eater, Desert Companion and Nevada Magazine. She lives in Las Vegas, Nevada with her husband and her dog, Presley.

#short story #las vegas #women's stories #sex-positive #krista diamond

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noona-clock · 6 years

Text

Moonrise 🌚 I Loved You

A Day6 songfic series by Admin B. 💟 Enjoy!

Genre: 1940s!AU/Angst

Pairing: Brian x You

By Admin B

Better Better 🌚 I like you 🌚 What Can I Do 🌚 I’ll Remember 🌚 Whatever! 🌚 Be Lazy 🌚 Hi Hello 🌚 I Loved You 🌚 When You Love Someone 🌚 All Alone 🌚 Pouring 🌚 I Need Somebody 🌚 I’ll try

I resent you I hate the times I had with you After I lost you Everything became meaningless

Brian’s career had been suffering. And he was very, very loathe to admit it was because you were no longer in his life... But when he looked back, the evidence was clear.

Right around the same time you left was the last time he had successfully solved a case. Every case since then had led to a dead end or simply remained unsolved. He was constantly following cold leads, and it was more than frustrating.

Was it just a coincidence? Or... was his life really meaningless without you?

He threw his pen down on his desk and let out a groan of dismay as his thoughts filled with memories the two of you had made.

All the happy times you’d shared over the past two years? He hated them now. He hated the fact he’d ever met you, he hated the fact he’d ever fallen in love with you, he hated the fact he was slowly becoming the worst detective on the police force because of you.

He hated you.

I don’t long for you I don’t miss you Your love that you gave to me I don’t want to remember it

“Maybe you should take a break, boss,” Brian’s deputy, Dowoon, suggested gently.

“I don’t need a break,” Brian muttered through his teeth as he examined the spot of dried blood on the ground.

“You’ve been staring at that for almost half an hour... it’s not gonna move or change or nothin’. Here, how’s about we go get somethin’ to eat, huh?” Dowoon held out Brian’s hat for him, hoping his boss would at least agree to some grub.

Brian stood there for a few moments, frozen, before reaching out to grab his hat and jamming it on his head. “Fine.”

The two walked to a nearby diner, sliding into a booth as Dowoon raised a hand to call over the waitress. A gorgeous young lady sauntered over, her teeth gleaming as she smiled at her new customers while cheerfully smacking on some gum.

“What can I get you fellas?” she asked, holding up her notepad and a pen.

Brian looked up, and the first thing he saw was the waitress’s name tag.

His heart froze.

Because her name was your name.

And he was immediately in a bad mood again. “Just coffee for me,” he grumbled.

Dowoon furrowed his brow, watching as Brian practically turned into a hermit crab and retreated into his shell.

“Uh... two of the daily specials, please,” he told the waitress with a polite smile. “And another coffee for me.”

“Sure thing, handsome,” the waitress grinned with a wink. And as soon as the sound of her heels became distant and faint, Dowoon reached a leg out under the table and kicked Brian. Gently, of course.

“What’s with you?”

“Nothing,” Brian replied moodily.

Dowoon couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes because that was obviously not true. And while he really didn’t want to bring this up... he couldn’t really take much more of this. He had to say something.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t ya?”

“No.”

“Brian, come on. You’re too distracted, you’re moody, you snap at everyone. Just admit that you miss her!”

“I don’t miss her. I told you, I’m not thinking about her. She’s ancient history, and I don’t care. I don’t love her anymore, I don’t have any feelings. Whatsoever.”

Dowoon simply stared at his boss with raised eyebrows. Because that was most certainly not true. He hadn’t even mentioned still having feelings for her. Brian had brought that up all on his own.

Really, I loved you It’s because I loved you so much Because I want to forget you but I can’t That’s why I want to forget you

Really, I loved you That’s how much harder it is I want to hate you But I can’t so I hate you even more

Brian stewed for the rest of the lunch hour, picking at his food and sipping his coffee and not saying another word to Dowoon.

Because he realized Dowoon had only accused him of missing you. Not of still having feelings for you. Still loving you.

That had come from his own brain, and he got even more upset because of it.

No matter how hard he tried to tell himself he was over everything... he knew deep down he wasn’t. And knowing that, knowing he wanted to hate you, wanted to forget you, wanted to be over you but he couldn’t... that made him hate you even more.

What had you done to him? Why had you strolled into his life with your angelic smile and your musical laugh and your soft skin and your red lipstick and your warm gaze and then just left?

Why had you made him fall in love with you only to walk away?

Because he truly had loved you. So damn much. And that just made everything he was feeling now - all the resentment and bitterness - that much more painful.

“Come on, boss,” Dowoon murmured after picking up the tab. “Maybe that bloodstain on the ground is ready to tell you who it came from.”

To be honest, no matter how much I try to erase you I know I can’t, yeah To be honest, I know that to me You’re someone who I just can’t forget

After looking over every inch of the crime scene, taking as many pictures as possible, Dowoon managed to get Brian into a car to head back to the station.

“I think this is the one,” he assured his boss as he pulled out onto the busy streets of the city. “This is the case that’ll bring you back. That’ll get you out of your rut.”

Brian just hummed, his eyes gazing unfocused out of the window.

And then after about ten minutes of driving in silence, only the soft sounds of the jazz music playing on the radio to lessen the awkwardness, Brian took a breath.

Dowoon’s eyes darted quickly over to the passenger seat, though he didn’t want to say anything. He didn’t want to push again today.

“I know I’m in a rut because of her,” Brian admitted. His voice was low and soft yet still somehow angry. “I -- I’ve tried to -- to forget about her. I’ve tried to erase all our memories, but -- I just -- I just can’t. I don’t know if I even want to see her again let alone be with her again. But... for some reason... I can’t move on.”

“You can’t move on right now, boss,” Dowoon replied quietly after he was sure Brian was through talking. “But you will. Eventually. I don’t think you’ll ever forget about her, though.”

Brian let out a soft sigh as the passing buildings through the car window became blurry as his eyes filled with tears.

“I know... but I want to.”

Because I want to forget you but I can’t That’s why I want to forget you

Master list // RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins

#day6 #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 au #day6 angst #brian #young k #younghyun #kang younghyun #young k scenarios #young k imagines #young k au #young k angst #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop angst #admin b

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ain-t-bovvered · 6 years

Text

Bumpy road to Love 3

EDITED by @waywardbaby

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Genre: 40s-50s Au. Singer Reader x veteran WWII Dean.

Warnings: none for this chapter

Disclaimer: the story takes place in the first year of WWII to the years right after, but I love the style and fashion of the 50s so some of the visuals and lifestyle will be not super accurate, especially during the flashbacks.

Summary: Many lives were ruined by the war, yours was not exception. You had money, before, stern but loving parents,a big house,and a secret love, all of that lost, burned down. Now you earn yourself just enough money to get by, using the only thing the war couldn’t take, your voice. One foggy night, in the smoky and dark speakeasy where you worked, your imagination plays tricks on you and behind the smoke and whiskey glass , a pair of green eyes seem to read into your soul. A pair of green eyes that you thought you’ll never see again.

I wrapped myself in my black fur shawl, the temperature in the club still low as the doors are open to let the smoke of the previous night out. Well that’s just stupid, I thought to myself annoyed and repressed a shiver sitting on the bar stool.

“I see you are not in a good mood today either, doll” Benny said as he was scrubbing the countertop with a towel and daring a smile to my direction.

“Shut up, Benny!” I scoffed picking at the peanuts on the counter “It’s cold as hell and I don’t understand the need to air the place. This evening will be thick with smoke again”I mumbled, raising a salt coated finger to my mouth and licking it, careful not to smudge the just lipstick coated lips.

“Well, I like to breath actual air sometimes” he said closing the shaker. I watched him, bored, my hand cradling my head.

“ Are we expecting many tonight?” I said raising my voice above the shaking noise.

“Yeah, tonight we’ll be full. You better get ready for some upbeat dance sets” he said pouring the shaker’s contents into your martini glass.

“..Oh ...wow, great!” I can taste the sarcasm in my words. I reached behind the counter to grab a handful of olives and Benny’s eyes fell on my wrist.

Damn it

“If that’s a new watch, you’ve been robbed” he said grabbing my wrist and eyeing the watch, “it’s stopped...and the style is a bit...” he eyed me suspiciously, “...is this a man’s watch?” he asked, squinting his eyes as he was trying to get top secret information out of you.

“...I liked the style, and I know it stopped. I’ll take it to the shop this week” I lied, “...and Benny, I know the craving is strong but try not to steal it!!” I grinned.

Benny brought my hand up to kiss it lightly , giving me his most charming wink. I blew him a kiss as I grabbed my drink, took a sip and walked to the stage, where Chuck was tuning the pianoforte.

Leaning on the side of it, I crossed my arms, my glass hovering near my lips.

“So….dancing tunes tonight, huh?” I asked, knowing exactly how much he detested them.

“..Oh joy!!” A simple roll of his eyes wasn't enough. His whole head followed as he reached for the drink, his ear close to the keyboard trying to pick up even on the tiniest out of tune note. His hand grabbed the air next to my glass so I obliged by handing it to him. Standing up, he took a sip and gave me a stern once-over. “...Darling, did you eat something before this?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed, ready to scold me like a small child.

“Sure, I did” I opened my hand, revealing 4 martini olives.

When he saw that, he moved the glass completely out of my reach and downed the rest of my drink.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Go and eat something at the diner and I’ll give you another one afterwards ” he said pushing me off the stage.

I saw Benny laughing and shaking his head as I passed by the counter again. Slowing down I reached into his tips jar and grabbed a handful of scrunched bills, winking at him before quickly exiting the place missing the towel he threw at me by mere inches.

The diner across the street was small, cozy and, thank god, warm. The smell of coffee and greasy food assaulted me as I pushed the door open, bell ringing.

“Y/n! , how rare to see you at this hour. Did Chuck send your ass in here?”

“Nice to see you too, Meg” I groaned, sitting heavily in my usual booth. She walked to my table, already filling my mug.

“The usual?”

“You know it”, I said scanning the tabletop jukebox titles “Did you add new ones?” .

“Yeah, Chuck kept nagging me about it and I needed him to shut up” she answered from behind the counter, leaning with her head to the kitchen window. “Number 5, 2 as a side”.

“Hiya Y/N !” came a loud, chirpy voice from the kitchen.

“Hey Donna” I greeted back.

“I kept your favorites in that one” she said winking at you.

My eyes shifted to the titles again recognizing most of my old favourites, the songs from another time.

Oh hello there, Bob Eberly and Helen O'Connell and their damn song.

“So...” he said sprawling on the seat, back against the window glass, one arm draped over the backrest and his legs, I know for sure because my feet bumped on his boots when I sat composed as usual, were wide open under the table.

“Ain’t you hot with that pretty cardigan on?” he said while scanning the menu he was holding.

I squirmed in my seat, fingers nervously tucking a curl behind my ear “I’m good, thanks”.

I was not.

He threw a glance at me from above the menu, eyes shining amused, probably reading me like a book.

I huffed, eyes rolling as I began to unbutton it. He was staring at me and I stopped , I raised my eyebrow in a silent request.

His eyes widened and he quickly covered his face with the menu.

Being almost summer, I wore a sleeveless camisole under it and I chewed on my lips feeling a bit exposed. So instead of completely removing it I draped the cardigan over my shoulders.

In one of the pockets I found a coin and I stared at the tabletop jukebox, fiddling with it and flipping it between my fingers. I love music but maybe I shouldn’t show it during a date...did I just say date? No, no, no, this is definitely not a-

He slowly took the coin from my hand, his fingers brushing mine feeling rough and lived, but his touch being gentle and warm.

“You ready to order guys?”

The waitress asked, breaking the moment.

Dean looked at me expectantly.

“What?”

“Ladies first”

“...” I gaped at him, and leaned closer. “You are supposed to order for me” I whispered, covering the part facing the waitress who was chewing a gum loudly,looking bored and doodling a bit .

He blushed slightly and sat up straight picking up the menu again, eyes quickly scanning the dishes.

“You eat burgers and fries?”

“ I do”

“Coke?”

“No ice”

“That’s all?” the waitress asked, scribbling down our orders and popping a bubble.

He threw a longing glance at the dessert section and I giggled. He caught me and blushed deeply, plastering a fake, cocky smile .

“That’s all, thanks”

“Sure, hon” she said and walked to the kitchen, swaying her hips.

“You are not used to this” I said smirking, head resting on my hand as I leaned on the table.

“Used to what?”

“Date”

He mirrored me and whispered “I thought this wasn’t a date” .

Now it was my turn to blush “Never said this -”

“Here’s your drinks” the waitress’s interruption being a welcomed one this time.

He leaned back, smiling pleased with himself, as I grabbed the glass and drank through the straw, looking everywhere but him.

Remembering the coin he took from me before, he inserted it in the tabletop jukebox and motioned at me, with his hand to choose a song.

I scanned the titles, curiously, not knowing what to choose after having mentally narrowed down my selection between two songs, one proper and one that my parents wouldn’t approve of.

I probably took too long because as my finger reached to select one he did the same, pressing the non proper one, my finger hovering on the other choice.

While waiting I started to hum at the song softly playing,watching outside the window, my feet moving in rhythm under the table, bumping into his from time to times without really noticing. He lowered his eyes under the table and looked up again but I didn’t notice that and I started murmuring the lyrics too, missing the way he was looking at me.

“Here you are hon, let me know if you need anything else”

“Thank you, Ruby” I smiled tiredly at the welcome distraction.

“Meg told me you’ll have a heavy night tonight” she said and refilled my cup .

“Yeah, couples dancing night and all that jazz” I answered, my tone bored and already sick of the night that hadn't even started yet.

“Maybe we’ll swing by later for some fun” she said placing a jar of honey next to the mug, knowing that I’ll need it to prep my throat. Long fast sets like the one I’ll have tonight were a no no smoke situation.

“Please do” .

She nodded and went to serve other customers, while I looked at my food. Jody and Donna’s cooking was delicious but I just wanted a damn drink, for pete’s sake!!

Damn it Chuck!!

I picked up the cutlery….

“ You’re really gonna use fork and knife to eat a burger?”

I straightened my back, my curls lightly bouncing, “What if I do?”

“That just no fun...” he said pointing at me with a fry before eating it and rubbing his hands together to shake off the salt.

He was right but still…

“Well….I ...shouldn’t” I thought about my pink lipstick getting smudged, and the terror in my mother’s eyes should she ever find out. He was looking at me confused, burger in his hands mid air and right then I realized that my mother's gaping image was what I convinced me to actually do it.

I put down the cutlery and picked up a tissue. Dipping a corner in the coke I rubbed it on my lips.

Now free from the lipstick menace I studied how he was holding his food and mirrored him, almost all the contents spilling out as I took a little bite.

He snorted and I glared at him.

We didn’t talk much while eating, but I did see him stealing glances around, taking in the place and how different he looked from the others boys who were actually on a date.

I could see he wasn’t exactly in his element and I wondered if he had chosen this place for me?

We were picking at the last of our fries and he looked bored.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, taking him by surprise.

The fry fell from his fingers, “What?”

“You are clearly not used to this” I said looking around.

“Isn’t this what are you used to?” he said bringing his glass to his mouth.

“...” you studied him and smirked, leaning in , “ Are you implying that I have lots of dates, Mr. Winchester?”

Coke must have gone down the wrong pipe.

“That...that was” he choked “ that was not what I meant” he pointed at me , patting his chest with his fist.

I laughed, loudly. More loudly than it was appropriate and immediately slapped a hand to my mouth, my eyes widening with surprise at my own lack of good manners. He smiled back, wide, the flush on his face making the green of his eyes shine.

No! Not shine! Sparkle!

“Why ...why don’t we do something you actually enjoy?” I asked earnestly.

He gave me a look.

“Oh, don’t be lewd!” I said feeling the heat crawl up my neck.

The waitress came back to clear the table.

“You sure you don’t want anything else? Last chance !”she chirped with fake enthusiasm.

I eyed the dessert section and raised an eyebrow at him. Getting my prompt ,he ordered a slice of cherry pie that we shared, and he enjoyed it way too much judging by how fast he ate.

I eyed him suspiciously as he drove on non-asphalted streets, raising white dust everywhere. I had to tie a scarf around my hair preventing it from getting dustier.I tried to guess where he was taking us, looking around.

As if he could read my mind, he glanced at me and answered my unasked question. “Relax!! I’m just going to my old man’s shop. Lots of witnesses, your virtue is safe,”

I scoffed at him, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

Once in front of the shop I snooped around as he disappeared in the back. I looked at the sign at the front, hanging over the dusty windows ‘ Winchester & Singer’s Auto repair and service’

I started humming the song from before, swaying on my feet , reading the other signs placed around.

“I thought that song wasn’t proper” I heard him, from a spot behind my back.

“You are right. It isn't !!” I turned around and froze. Dean was pushing the motorcycle outside the shop, grinning.

“Is this not proper either?” He stopped beside me, looking down on me as I eyed the vehicle and then my skirt.

“It’s so not proper...”I whispered and then raised my glare to him, chin high, “... but as long as you don’t look and you don’t drive into town flashing my petticoat to everybody, it should be fine”

He smirked pleased and bowed slightly, hand on his heart, “ As you wish”. He straddled it, taking the kick-stand off the ground, and patted the space behind him. “Hell of a show, I’m sure”.

I opened my mouth outraged and I sat behind him, tucking my skirt safely under my thighs. As he started the engine I could feel it vibrating under me. This is absolutely improper and I felt a tinge of pleasure thinking again how my mother would have reacted if she knew. I gripped the sides of his jacket, the smell of leather and motor oil strong in my nose.

My small hands nearly got lost in there, trying to hold on to him. He chuckled and covered them with his leather clad ones, bringing them around his waist, squeezing them together tightly.

Looking at me above his shoulder he winked and we raised more dust as we took to the street again.

Dean POV

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, I said to myself as I lean my bike to the side lightly, taking the hill’s curve slow and careful. Oh god, she’s squeezing me so much! I’m sure there will be an imprint of her fingernails embed in the leather. The dry hot air is messing up my hair as I close my eyes enjoying it and the speed too, even if I’m going slower than usual. This is what makes me feel alive.

Oh shit! Another tight curve. I better stay focused, at least until I get her to the top. I take the next curve a bit faster than before and I hear her whimper even over the sound of the engine.

I chuckle. Well, at least she didn’t start hitting me to stop. Carefully I bring the speed up a bit more. Maybe I’m lucky and I get to reach the top before sunset.

Finally stopping I wait for her to get off, but she doesn’t budge, her arm still tight around me. Stretching my neck around, I see her face pressed into my back, her eyes squeezed shut.

Oh she’s adorable.

I clear my throat and she let me go immediately.

I already miss it. She gets off, clumsily, stumbling a bit and I grab her elbow to steady her.

She blushes and murmurs a thanks before brushing off dust from her skirt. She turns around, fingers undoing the tight knot of her scarf, slipping it of her hair.

I climb down the bike too, kicking down the stand and watch as she realizes where we are. I chuckle as she skips forward, stopping a few steps away from the edge and I follow her.

The wind is making her skirt flutter and her hair dance, carrying her flowery perfume to my nose. I tell her to be careful as she steps mor forward, one hand keeping the hair away from her face, the other involuntarily reaching back to me. I grab her elbow, as she bends her torso to look down.

I shift my gaze to the horizon already tinged by the sunset colours.All the purples and the oranges dancing together, blending, tinting the running clouds above us with colors that I don't even king the names of. The serenity and beauty of them in complete contrast to the danger of the cliff that spreads in front of us.

This might be the perfect place to impress a girl, but this is the first time I brought someone here. I look at her again frowning. This is my little hideout, and yet in merely hours of knowing her I already brought her here.

Why?.

She turns around to say something that I didn’t catch because all I can see is how her hair is hiding part of her face, eyes big and amazed ,smile as bright as the setting sun behind her. I can’t help the smile that grows on my lips and my feet carry me closer.

“...Dean”

Hearing my name I blink and focus on her voice “...uuhhh, what?” She tilts her head “I said, this place is gorgeous, Dean” she smiles softly, cheeks flushed in excitement. I really want to cradle them between my hands and kiss her.

WOAH….ok...ok...calm down, there.

“I’m glad”

She’s looking at me. No, she's scrutinizing me. I feel like she can see right through me. She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and shifting her weight on one leg.

Uh uh!

“So what number am I ?” she asks.

“Number?” I’m confused.

She blushes a bit but her gaze is sharper, “ How many poor girls have you brought up here to charming the skirts out of them?”

I scoffed.

“My lady ...I’m insulted!” I cross my arms, trying to keep a serious face, “This place is halfway from where I used to live and where your town. I’ve been coming up here my whole life and, on my honor, you are the first I’ve showed it to” I lean closer to her, almost looking at my reflection in her eyes and whisper,

“ I wonder why”.

The blush increases as her eyes widen and look down.

“D-don’t call….” she raises it again, this time pointing her finger against my chest, “...don’t call me t-that”.

I shrug my jacket off while walking to the edge, and lay it on the dusty ground, sitting beside it, feet dangling off the precipice. I stretch my neck behind and pat the seat beside me.

She seems to think better of it but eventually steps closer, stopping right behind me, still away from the edge.

“D-don’t look” she orders. I raise my hands and look ahead until I hear the shuffling of fabrics. In the corner of my eye I see her feet. She has taken off her heels, coming in my range of sight. I peek a bit more and I see her trying to shuffle near the edge from an already sitting position. I bit my cheek trying not to laugh and look the other way.

“I told you not to look!” she whines embarrassed.

“I didn’t!!”

“Liar “ she huffs and her feet hang down near mine. I turn my head to say something snarky and I choke on my own words. Her skirt has ridden up on her right side and my eyes follow the curve of her leg up to where the stocking ends, the suspender of the garter belt showing, digging into her naked skin. My eyes linger there a bit before I cough and shift uncomfortably, looking up.

“Your, ehm…” I clear my voice “...your skirt rode up a bit ….”

I sense her fumbling in panic, and I choose for her sake, and honestly mine too, to forget it ever happened.

We stay silent for a bit , enjoying the wind that morphed into a light warm breeze as the sun lit the sky on fire.

She’s the first to break the silence.

“Why did you move here?”

I glance at her but she’s looking ahead , her feet rubbing together nervously.

“Needed a change of scenery...after my mother passed away” I blurted out, and I’m again surprised how easily I said that to someone I barely know.

“I’m so sorry, that must have been difficult”

“Meh, not really, we didn’t have that much to leave behind”

“...I meant your mother”

“Oh...yeah ...that” I know she’s looking at me now so I meet her eyes, “ Well, it happened years ago, but my old man needed money and time to open a shop with my uncle. Once that was settled we left those few things we had and came here some months ago”

“Months?” “I work there too and they need all the help they can get. I didn't want Sammy to help, and I left school so he could continue”

She stayed silent, and raised her legs hugging them,laying her head on her knees, those big eyes staring.

“You must think I’m just a hood with a motorcycle who dirtied your homework with my oil covered hands” I chuckle nervously, scratching the back of my head.

“It must be nice to earn your own money”, she sounded sad as her gaze fell on the now dying sun. “ ...you must feel free”

“...”

“ After finishing school my liberty is my father’s to do as he pleases”

“What do you mean?” She snorted and looked at me, “You are a man, you can do whatever you want. Me?...yeah I may be rich, but all that money is not mine. Think of it like a price on my head, to be sold to the best candidate. It’s a miracle they let me finish school before marrying me off to some greedy bastard” She bites her lips almost ashamed. “Sorry for the language”.

“... I like it , it’s a great contrast”

I manage to make her laugh, but it’s a bitter one.

“Here’s what you should do “ I said jumping to my feet, dusting off my jeans from the dirt and offering her my hand. She took it , standing up beside me.

“Scream!!”

“...what?”

“ No one here can tell you what’s proper and what’s not and I sure as hell won’t do it either”

I take a step back, giving her a little push “Come on, vent to the world, it doesn’t care anyway”.

I see the indecision passing over her face, before turning around, fists clenched by her sides.

“ I DON’T WANNA MARRY AN OLD RICH DROOLING GEEZER!!!”

She takes another breath

“ I WANNA EARN MY MONEY, AND …” she pauses and straightens her shoulders “I WANNA MARRY FOR LOVE” .

I see her stumbling as she took a step back , turning around and I grin at her . She raises a finger and turns toward the horizon again .

“ FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK “

The echo goes on quite a bit before I double over and laugh until my stomach hurts and I have literal tears in my eyes.

I see her approaching me grinning, her steps lighter.

“That..” I tried to say, wheezing “...that was awesome!! I think I will not be able to eat dinner. My stomach hurts too much” I’m able to say before another fit of laughter shakes my body.

“DINNER?”

She looks at my watch and her eyes grow wide and panicked, “ ...Dang I’m almost past my curfew !” .

I watch as she slips into her shoes, tying her scarf around her head again and I already hate it. She looks good with her hair messed up.

Ok Winchester! Enough of that!!

She grabs my arm and drags me to the bike “Get me home as fast as you can” she orders, her fingers digging into my flesh, her face panicked.

“Uh….you sure?”

“Better risk an accident than my parents’ rage”

I look at her horrified and she huffs rolling her eyes “ I’ll grant you another date if you bring me home in time”

“...oooh...so this was a date after all”

“DEAN…!!”

“Aye aye, ma’am” I said smirking, eyes focusing on the road ahead.

I drive fast, wind in my hair, and push it to the limit, just because she asked.

She’s gripping me tighter again, her face hidden in my back, her body pressed against mine and, lord forgive me, but she feels so good. I think she's even forgotten about the skirt and my mind is trying to imagine the way it flutters around her thighs. And now that I know what’s under it, it makes my blood boil. I grip the handle tighter and shake my head. Focus, Winchester!.

I’m glad it’s dark once we arrived on the long, straight, lonely road that leads to my family’s shop. I slow down, check her watch and a low, relieved sigh escapes my lips. We are perfectly on time, and turn around to check on her .

I’m sure I freaked her out because I see that she’s trembling.

“You okay?” I shout over the rumbling of the engine. She raises her shaky head and I realize that she’s laughing.

She’s genuinely laughing. A big, fat, loud laugh that's brought tears in her eyes. That’s why they are shining. Those look at me and I’m sucked in, but it’s what she does next that makes me really understand and accept that I’m done for.

Y/N POV

This is too fun.

The speed, the wind that blinds me and cuts my breath, the smell of leather and motor oil, the rumbling of the bike that fills my ears. I can feel its vibration between my legs and it’s kinda hot and dangerous and is making me feel all the things I shouldn’t feel.

I press my palms against him, and I can feel him like he’s naked , his abs are taunt and I feel them clench as he moves with the bike, following its movements. I should feel embarrassed of pressing myself to him so shamelessly. But, when we slow down on the deserted country road leading to the shop, and he turns around asking me if I’m okay I can’t help but laugh.

Because I don’t care.

Because I feel alive.

Because ….. I tug the knot of my foulard and, raising both my hands in the air, I let out a delighted scream as the wind slips it off my head.

Because I feel free.

“There, you can leave me here” I pat his shoulder and I stretch over the seat of his car retrieving my purse and books, “I’m just around the corner, across the garden”

“I should walk you to the door” he tries to protest.

“You want to be shot with salt rounds?”

“....no”

“Then here is good”

He quickly got out the car, making room for me to slide on the seat to exit the car.

“What are you gonna do about the scarf?”

“Foulard” I grin and produce a different one from my purse “ A ‘lady’ should always have a spare one” I mimic my mother’s tone. Before I could do it, Dean slipped it from my hands and gently wrapped it around my head. His eyes follows his fingers as they graze my face, pausing at my parted lips, before securing the knot tugging me to him, our face closing in.

He whispers : “Same time and place? This Saturday?”

I just nod , transfixed .

He let me go and I walk in a daze through my big house garden, the song from the diner still in my head. I’m in no rush now.

I start to sing softly.

Those cool and limpid Green Eyes A pool wherein my love lies So deep that in my searching for happiness I fear that they will ever haunt me All through my life they'll taunt me But will they ever want me

I know my night will be spent dreaming of green eyes.

@curly-haired-disaster @time-travel-bouqet @dean-winchesters-bacon@babyimp1967 @bamcrux@icysundown @emoryhemsworth@wingedcatninja @imma-winchester-addict@southbreak@ilovetvshowsblog@ezilyamused@ravenangel33 @maimalfoi@missjenniferb@purpleskiesandcherrypies@hannahindie@marilynnlew @mariekoukie6661@wayward-and-worn@multifandombackpack@raelady1184@mah1c@spnskinnyballs@starfirerules@hunterswearingplaid@sculptorofbeginnings@younoeatcheeseyounobefat @icequeen6666 @brokenhearted-littlegirl @theangelwinchester@missihart23@weathergirl83 @ravenhg @thisismysecrethappyplace@yllwtaxi @soloarcana@itsstillnotwhatyouthink@sexykitten253@ackleholicwinchester@clarinette07 @biawol@snffbeebee @daskleinevolk @oldfreakything @energizerbunnay@hobby27 @cloverhighfive@theroleplayer-gameaddiction @silent-loucidity @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @mirandaaustin93

#Bumpy road to love 3 #bumpy road to love #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester au #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean winchester fanfic #au

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susanmichelin · 7 years

Text

Wanted to take a minute to thank @sorokinalina for spending her puppy-sitting time creating photos of the Echolls family as featured in my fanfic. From experience, I know how much work is involved in not only finding the right photos, but also doing the actual photoshopping. As a small way to show my appreciation, I thought she might like a sneak peek at the first chapter of the next story, Same Old Song.

The full fic is months away from being ready to post so I’ve hidden most of the chapter under the cut since it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger (read at your own risk).

CHAPTER ONE

Veronica pulled open the front door to reveal a tall, leggy redhead. “Can I help you?”

She hesitated, looked at the paper in her hand and then back to Veronica. “No, I don’t think you can. I’m sorry, I…” Her face crumpled and her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. A quick shake of her head and her composure returned. “I must have the wrong house.”

“Veronica, do you want—” He froze, jaw slack with surprise.

“Logan?” The redhead rushed past her into the house and threw herself into Logan’s arms.

Instead of pushing the strange woman away, Veronica’s husband actually pulled her closer, a smile crossing his face. One of the rare smiles- easy and unguarded, imbued with genuine warmth and happiness. His eyes flicked to Veronica and the smile faltered.

“It is you. I was afraid…” Redhead started crying and Logan gently stroked her back, soothing and comforting her. What the hell was going on? “I’m in trouble. I need money fast and you’re the…I need two-hundred grand.”

He gripped her shoulders and leaned back to see her face. “Whoa, slow down. What kind of trouble requires two-hundred grand?”

Redhead took a deep breath. “It’s—” She stopped talking and glanced back at the door. “Did he call you Veronica?”

Yes, because it’s my name. She kept the snotty thought to herself and just nodded.

“The Veronica?” Redhead was staring at Logan waiting for an answer.

He nodded. “I sent you a wedding invitation, but I didn’t hear from you.”

Stunned was the only way to describe her expression, but then a wide grin split her face. “I knew it! I told you if you stopped being a fuckup she’d come back.” She shook her head. “Married? Holy shit, I’m sorry I missed it.” Her smile died and the tears started flowing again. “I’m not in Vegas anymore.”

Pam Mitchell. Leggy redhead, wedding invitation, and Vegas were all the clues Veronica needed to put together the mystery woman’s identity. Turning away from the two of them, she closed the front door and briefly rested her forehead against the jamb. Dealing with her husband’s ex who was both in trouble and needed money was a radical change to her afternoon plan. She kissed her nap goodbye and moved away from the door.

Logan wasn’t holding her anymore, but his hands were still resting on Pam’s shoulders. “When did you leave Vegas?”

Pam’s eyes clouded and a slight frown puckered her brow. “Right after I saw you and Carrie in Chicago?” She laid her head on Logan’s chest. “God, I’m so glad you’re here; I was afraid you’d be deployed.”

They made a striking couple. At almost the same height, their bodies fit together; her lush curves molding perfectly to his hard muscular frame. Veronica felt like an interloper.

“I left the Navy.”

Dropping her arms from his waist, Pam took a step back and then another. Her gaze moved beyond his shoulder and landed on Veronica, a hostile expression on her face. “Why?”

“Long story.” Logan dragged a hand through his hair as he glanced at Veronica and then back to Pam. “Uh… do you want to have lunch with us?”

Not waiting for her answer, Veronica stalked from the room. If she was lucky the baby would sleep for an hour and she wasn’t going to spend that time being glared at by Pam. She frowned. It was learning that Logan left the Navy that earned Veronica the nasty look. What’s that about?

Plates and glasses for two were already set out on the kitchen table along with a spinach salad. She took down another set of dishes and ladled out a generous serving of black bean soup. Logan sidled up behind her, slid his hand under the bowl and lifted it from her hand. “I’ve got this, you go sit.”

Veronica titled her head back to see him and he kissed her nose. His eyes were troubled and his brow was furrowed with worry lines. Probably thinks I’m jealous. To alleviate his fear, she smiled at him before taking her soup back and turning to Pam. “We’ve got lemonade, juice, or water.”

Opening the fridge, she took out the Brita water pitcher for herself and waited on Pam’s response.

“Water’s fine.”

With her hip, Veronica closed the fridge and went to take her seat at the table. Pam lingered in the doorway. She was hugging herself and staring at the floor. Finally, she raised her head and spoke to Logan: “I’m not really hungry.”

He dished out a bowl of soup for her anyway. “At least sit down and tell me what’s wrong.”

Her eyes tracked his progress from the counter to the table and then focused on Wyatt’s booster chair. Crossing the room, Pam brushed her fingertips across the green turtle’s head. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She swiped her hands over her face. “Boy” —her voice cracked— “Or girl?”

Uneasiness descended over Veronica and she paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth to study Pam. The other woman was watching Logan, waiting for his answer. A grin split his face and his eyes brightened. “A girl. Actually, we have two girls.”

His words knocked her back a step and she practically fell into the chair next to him. “I don’t… wow, you as a Dad? Shit, I’m impressed.” A lopsided smile spread over Pam’s lips and Veronica relaxed. “You don’t waste any time do you?”

“Not when I know what I want.” As he spoke, Logan’s eyes were locked on Veronica. It was the intense stare that made her want to crawl across the table and do bad things with him. The smug uptick at the corner of his mouth said he knew exactly what she was thinking. She rolled her eyes and he chuckled.

To get her thoughts under control, Veronica filled their water glasses and served the salad. It was made with warm bacon dressing, hard-boiled eggs, and gorgonzola cheese and was her new personal fave. She held out the plate for Pam who shook her head. Your loss. “Two hundred thousand dollars,” Veronica prompted.

Her husband was used to her bluntness, but Pam was not. She blinked and looked at Logan for rescue. Instead of changing the subject, he asked: “Do you owe it to somebody?”

“No.” With an unsteady hand, she picked up her water glass and took a long sip. “When I left Vegas, I rented an apartment in Santa Monica and started waiting tables at a diner.”

“Why did you quit the casino?”

Pam fiddled with her glass, dragging a finger up its side to catch the condensation. “It was time for a change.”

She’s lying. It wasn’t outright- more evasion than lying, but there was some piece of information she was withholding. Veronica’s general feeling of unease returned. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Logan didn’t look concerned and he knew Pam better than she did. “Big pay cut,” was all he said.

“No shit” —a wry grin— “And the rent was crazy.”

“Was? You’re not there anymore?”

Veronica was losing patience. She wanted Pam to get to her reason for coming here and why she needed the money. The question ‘why Logan’ almost made it past her lips and she swallowed it down with another spoon of soup. Come on, Veronica you know the why doesn’t matter- Logan’s not going to say no. There was no way her husband would turn down a woman in distress.

“There was this guy.” There always is. “A customer at the diner and he asked me if I’d ever danced before. I told him about Reno and Vegas and he offered me a job.” She didn’t make any excuses for her decision and Veronica admired her unabashed attitude. “It was a great deal; I didn’t have to pay stage fees or share tips. It was a fifty-fifty split for lap dances though, but I was an employee so,” she shrugged.

Curiosity engaged. Veronica sighed and asked: “Stage fees? They make you pay to dance?”

Pam nodded. “Some clubs charge a hundred bucks just for you to work. They take cuts from your tips, make you buy a set amount of drinks during your shift and some places even charge you fines- for being late, chewing gum on stage, not smiling enough.”

“Seriously?” Veronica was surprised and a little appalled at the way the clubs were taking advantage of their dancers.

“It’s their way of claiming you’re an independent contractor instead of an employee. This way they don’t have to pay you a minimum wage, or provide disability insurance or worker’s comp.”

“That’s against the law.”

Pam grimaced. “A lot of what happens inside some strip clubs is against the law.”

Logan was being very quiet. His head was bowed and he was eating his soup like it was his last meal. Veronica rubbed her foot against his leg making him jump. “Cat got your tongue?”

Bailey’s crying saved him from having to answer. “I’ll get her.” He practically sprinted from the kitchen.

Veronica gave him the benefit of the doubt -attributing his eagerness to leave the room because he wanted to quiet Bailey before she woke Wyatt and not a desire to escape a discussion between his wife and his ex about illicit activities inside strip clubs.

“How long has he been out of the Navy?”

“Almost a year.” Conversations about strip clubs and money troubles were preferable to this discussion.

Pam was a walking and talking embodiment of the nine years of radio silence. She witnessed Logan’s drinking and drug use and sketchy behavior. Helped him through withdrawal, attended his college graduation, and watched him get his wings. Even though Logan let her read his journal, Pam still knew things about her husband that Veronica didn’t and it made her uncomfortable.

“How is he?”

Too many layers to that question.

“Happy.” Standing, Veronica carried her dishes to the sink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything? Coffee?” Gracious hostess was an easier role to play.

“Coffee works.”

Logan chose then to return, asking: “Can you make that two?” Bailey was nestled against his chest wide-awake and sucking on her fingers.

Veronica cupped the baby’s head. “Hey, Rabbit. How was your very short nap?” At the sound of Veronica’s voice, Bay smiled around her fingers and gurgled. “That good, huh?” Lifting the baby’s foot, she kissed her toes. “Did you check on Wy?”

He nodded. “Still sleeping.”

“Ah, sleep, I did that once back in the day.” She pulled three mugs from the cabinet, set the first cup to brew, and went into the living room to get Bailey’s bouncer seat. When she walked back into the kitchen, he was in the process of transferring the baby to Pam.

Her grip tightened on the bouncer and she frowned at the two of them. Their chairs were pushed together, shoulders touching and heads bent over the baby. Bailey was gripping Logan’s finger and cooing at Pam.

“She’s beautiful, Logan.” Pam cuddled the baby closer and brushed her fingers over Bailey’s cheek.

Veronica slammed the bouncer seat on the table a little harder than intended and all three of them startled at the sound. “How do you want your coffee, Pam?”

“Black is fine.”

Turning her back on them, she concentrated on making the coffee. By the time she carried their mugs to the table, Bay was on the floor in her bouncer trying to catch the stuffed giraffe. She swatted at it and kicked her feet making the seat bounce and her squeal.

After handing them their cups, she got her own and rejoined them at the table. “So are you still dancing at this club?” Veronica sipped her coffee and stared at Pam over the rim. Time to finish your story and go home.

“Yes and no. Joey, he’s the guy who owned the club, started me on the day shift during the week, and then I moved to nights and weekends. After about a year, he made me manager.”

The upward mobility of stripping. “You work there, but don’t dance.”

Pam shook her head. “I still dance —Friday and Saturday nights mostly— plus I fill in for girls who call out sick and we do private parties.” Her coffee cup suddenly demanded all her attention. She traced the rim, nudged at the handle, and finally picked it up to take a sip.

It was the mention of private parties that rattled her. Veronica glanced at Logan. In between drinking his coffee, he was making funny faces at the baby trying to make her laugh. She knew he was paying attention to the conversation; yet he wasn’t asking any of his own questions. If I wasn’t here would he have just given her the money by now? Veronica frowned at the thought. “Did something happen at one of the parties?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at the astute guess. This ain’t my first time at the rodeo, Pam. “Yes, but… I thought Joey owned Shenanigans so last year when he approached me with a deal, I…” She banged down her mug. “Fuck.”

Reaching across the table, Logan placed his hand on hers and gave it a soft squeeze. “It’s okay, Red.” A fleeting smile at his use of the nickname. “We’re going to help you.”

Thanks for making that decision alone, Echolls. Veronica stared at their touching hands. “What was the deal?”

Pam followed her gaze to their hands and slid hers off the table, tucking it into her lap.

Logan’s head swiveled in Veronica’s direction, a frown on his face. Adopting an innocent expression, she gave him a one-shouldered shrug: beats me what that was about. His eyes narrowed with suspicion and she turned away.

“Joey knew I was saving money; I make five, six hundred bucks a shift —five shifts a week— plus whatever I earn in the VIP room.” She looked away and Veronica wondered what else Pam was doing in the VIP room besides dancing. “I was banking most of it; thought I could open my own club.” It was said with a wistful tone like that dream was gone.

“What did Joey—”

Logan cut her off. “Take your time.” Her husband was no longer looking at her or the baby, his focus was on Pam’s story.

Guess he’s done with me taking the lead. Veronica finished her decaf and went to put the mug in the sink. She glanced at the clock. The baby would probably be looking to nurse right around the time Wyatt got up from her nap. If Pam didn’t wrap up her story soon, she’d be telling it to just Logan. Maybe that’s what he wants.

“He offered to make me a partner. I gave him what I had for a twenty-five percent stake in the club. What he didn’t tell me was that he already had a partner.” She planted her face on the table. “God- I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Logan rubbed her shoulder. Does he have to keep touching her? Veronica started to load the dishwasher fully aware that she was being catty. Her husband was a very tactile person. Touch was something that was missing from the early part of his life and it was important to him.

Without lifting it from the table, Pam turned her head. “Sam Carlucci is not somebody you want to be partners with.”

“I figured that much out all by myself.”

Another one of her crooked smiles- the kind that reached her eyes and lit up her face. “Logan Echolls, boy genius.”

“Hey now, I’m well past boy.”

“Yeah, I remember.” She sat up and tilted her mug. “How ‘bout you make yourself useful and hook me up with another cup of coffee.”

“Pushy bitch.”

Pam tossed her head back —sending cascades of auburn curls over her shoulders— and laughed. “Asshole.”

Chuckling, Logan got up and fixed her another cup of coffee. “Do you need the money to pay off Sam?”

She immediately sobered. “I wish it was that simple.” Reaching for his hand, she gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve made a really good life for yourself here; I’m proud of you, Logan.”

“You helped.” They stared at each other and once again Veronica felt like she was intruding on something. “Now let me help you. I can write you a check or I can make a call and get cash.”

Relief washed over her. “I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

He waved away her offer. “Don’t worry about it.”

That’s it? Have the money and don’t worry about it? Veronica shut the dishwasher. “Are you being blackmailed?” The two of them turned to stare at her. “What? If she’s being blackmailed they’re not going to go away because she pays them. In fact, if she pays them this easily, they’re going to think they didn’t ask for enough and they’re going to make a new demand. A new demand for more- it’s never going to stop.”

Pam’s face crumbled and Logan looked annoyed.

“You know I’m right.”

A solemn nod from Pam. “She is right, but it’s… it’s not blackmail.”

“Then there’s no problem.” The words were for Pam, but Logan’s eyes were on Veronica. “Right?”

Now she was mad. “It’s your money- do what you want with it.”

“I will.”

“Good. Glad that’s settled.” Tugging open the refrigerator, she pulled out a bag of breast milk and poured four ounces in the Mimijumi bottle. Unlike Wyatt, Bailey was not happy if she wasn’t actually nursing. Trying to feed her from a bottle was an unpleasant experience at best, but these anatomically correct, very expensive bottles made it at least sufferable. She stuck it in the bottle warmer.

“I don’t want to cause any problems for you.”

Logan said: “You’re not” at the same time Veronica responded with “No problem at all.”

Pressing her hands flat on the countertop, she took a few deep breaths. If she tried feeding the baby while she was angry, Bailey would only fuss and cry more.

“Before you decide to help, I think you need to know the rest of the story.” Pam held up her hand to keep him from protesting. “Once I bought into the club, Sam came around to introduce himself.”

The way she said the word ‘introduce’ had Veronica’s head spinning around to look at her. Pam’s composure was a little shaken, but she pushed back her shoulders and plowed ahead with her story. “He started using the club to conduct his business. Sometimes up in front, sometimes in the back office or VIP rooms. Then he started having private parties.”

All the color leached from Logan’s face and he shook his head. “You don’t need to tell me anymore.”

The warmer shut off and Veronica plucked the bottle from its warm water bath. She couldn’t wait to feed the baby; Bay was already fidgeting in her seat and gnawing on her hand. Veronica scooped her up, sat at the table and got as comfortable as she could in the hard chair.

As soon as she realized it was a bottle, the baby clamped her mouth shut and started rooting around for the breast. “Come on, Bay.” She gently tapped the nipple against Bailey’s lips until she opened her mouth and started to drink. She leveled Veronica with a baleful stare.

Pam was watching them and her earlier tears returned in earnest. “Last week Sam had a party. It was him and two of his associates, plus three guys I’ve never seen before. I was there along with four other dancers.” She dragged her eyes away from Veronica and the baby and took a large gulp of her coffee.

“It was a drug buy; I think Sam was looking for a new supplier so it was a small deal- five kilos at twenty grand a piece.”

One hundred thousand dollars cash and one hundred thousand dollars worth of coke- two hundred grand total. “Did you steal it?”

“Veronica,” he barked.

Logan’s angry tone made Bailey start to whimper. “Ssh, it’s okay Rabbit.” She bounced the baby and gently started to rock. “I wasn’t accusing her; I was asking.”

“Maybe you should go—”

“I’m not leaving.”

Pam’s gaze swung between them. “I didn’t steal it.”

“I know you didn’t,” Logan reassured her. “But they think you did.”

“Boy genius strikes again.” This time it was said without any humor. “Both the coke and the money went missing and they think one of us has it.” She buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. “It’s bad, Logan.”

She dropped her hands. “They’re at the club all the time now; watching us- threatening us. One of the dancers… Karen, she called me, said they came to her house. She was whimpering and talking to herself. They… they terrorized her.” Tiny beads of sweat popped out over Pam’s upper lip. “She hasn’t been at the club and she’s not in her apartment. I tried calling her, but her cell phone’s disconnected.”

“It’ll be okay, Pam; you’ll give them the money and you’ll be fine.”

Veronica was shaking her head. “It won’t work.”

“Aren’t you just Little Mary Sunshine today?”

“And you’re the King of Wishful Thinking- they’re not just going to leave her alone because you ask nicely. They think she stole from them and if she gives them the cash it’s as good as confessing.”

She could see the exact moment the truth of her words hit him by the expression on his face. “Take the money and use it to disappear.”

“I can’t.” Pam slumped in her chair. “If it was just me- maybe, but… I have a son, Logan. They’re threatening to hurt my son.”

#veronica mars #vm fanfic #cmfics #sorokinalina

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gaypasta · 7 years

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do you want fries with that?

Chapter 1 / ? Read on Ao3

Darkness still painted the sky over the town of Derry. Streetlights spilt an orange glow onto the pavement which sparked like the tail of a firework during Derry’s Halloween annual firework show when Stanley Uris cycled through the puddles. The orange sparks fell back onto the frosty ground, all the heat from the warm day before had been lost over the course of the night time. Birds chirped faintly in the background, Stanley couldn’t distinguish which direction the almost dream-like sounds were coming from - it felt as though they were circling him on his usual bike ride to work.

The warmth and brightness of summer mornings were slowly retreating back into hibernation, much to Stan’s displeasure. Having to start work at six o’clock was enough of a chore without having to cycle in the darkness. Nonetheless, Stanley enjoyed his weekend job as much as one could; the pay was decent, the hours were okay and all of his friends worked alongside him. Except Richie Tozier. Thank God.

Derry’s Waterfront Diner was a small venue with a fair amount of traffic. It was built only a few years prior just a mile from Derry’s centre. It’s not by any means in the heart of Derry, it is the only building in the long stretch of road before you enter the town. It was a popular rest-stop for people driving through the town to get to a better, more modern town. It wasn’t often that Stan saw a customer more than once, except maybe on their return back home. Stan didn’t believe that he had deserved or earned the job as weekend supervisor, not just because he was only 15 but more so the fact that he hadn’t had an interview. Or applied for the job. Or even really wanted it. Bill had proposed it was probably because him, Stan, Richie and Eddie were the only regular customers and had gotten to know the staff. They would go to the diner every weekend after whatever shenanigans they had gotten up to in the past four years. Stan had remembered when they brought Georgie out for his birthday several months ago, and the owner - who was a fat, balding man but with a kind face and stubble that wasn’t quite ever shaven right - had brought out a cake along with a badly wrapped box with a gaudy bow sloppily sellotaped to the top. If Stan’s memory was correct - which it usually is - the group were the only ones in the diner that summer evening. Richie turned the vintage jukebox up as loud as it would go and grabbed Georgie out of his chair and danced in a way that wasn’t unlike a seizure. Stan had pointed that out and everyone laughed. Except for Bill, who was thanking the owner off to the side, trying to give him whatever amount of crumpled up dollars he had in his pocket to pay for the cake (and the damages caused by Richie’s dancing). It was that evening, when Stan had cleaned up and righted all the chairs which had been knocked over and pushed to the side to make a crude imitation of a linoleum dancefloor that the Mr.Denton had offered Stan a job, if he wanted it. Stan had said yes, a decision he hadn’t really spent the appropriate time to think about. The job hadn’t interfered with school work or his hobbies yet so Stan had no reason to quit or go back on the offer. It wasn’t a fortnight later when Bill showed up during one of Stan’s shifts, wearing a white apron and a smile which suggested he was excited and nervous, the feeling Stan recalls having before his first ever shift. Not two days later did Eddie show up, wearing rubber gloves that were probably intended to go half-way up the forearm but hugged Eddie’s elbows and a waterproof apron. The goloshes were overboard, Stan had thought. Eddie bussed like no bus-boy had ever bussed before, the plates were cleaner than they probably were when they were first bought. Stan pulled up into the diner, the retro design along with the neon sign had Stan feeling a sense of nostalgia for a decade he never lived in. He rode round past the front door into the side, he hopped off his bike and kicked up his stand beside the smoking area, if he parked it anywhere else he feared a careless delivery driver would run it over. Stan unlocked the door to the large gated back entry, which held the large commercial garbage cans were stored to prevent wild animals rummaging for leftovers. Stan carefully side-stepped a garbage bag which had tipped over during the night and spewed mouldy hamburger buns. Stan continued to do all his morning duties with monotony. He’d been here long enough and done the same thing every weekend where he doesn’t have to think about what he’s doing, it comes naturally. It was almost embedded into his head. Unlock the back doors. Turn off security. Turn on lights. Turn on fans and dishwasher. Turn on heating. Pre-heat oven for Bill. Move the chairs the table back to the floor. Unlock the front door. Check wastage from the night before. Prep the breakfast food for Bill. Write up next weekend’s rota. The front of house was small, there was maybe a half a dozen tables and two booths. Stan didn’t mind the horrible bright red and white floor tile, which matched perfectly with red walls and very gaudy 60’s-era decorations which basically covered the wall. It was any wonder that he could tell what colour the wall is at all. Although the decoration was, in Eddie’s words, ‘a fucking nightmare come to life’, the place was always clean, the floor always shone and Stan had never found any chewing gum under tables or seats. He checked every time. The back of house was much bigger. The were two large benches for prep and cooking beside a large industrial sink and a large oven which was taller than Bill. The top shelf was never used, it was tightly pushed against a large griddle, which is where the magic of Bill’s pancakes were made. Beside the red-circle windowed door which led to the front of house was two fryers which had probably seen better days. There were more steel benches beside the fryers, which ended at a wall about four foot high. On the other side of the half-wall was Eddie’s ‘station’. A pretty clean and spacious area for cleaning dishes and various cooking utensils. It was always immaculate when Eddie left it. The back door was beside the counter where all the clean plates and bowls were stored, about 10 feet from the sink. Stan had just got his pen and a clean sheet of paper to begin the rota when he could hear the familiar haphazard dismount of Silver. Not moments later he could hear Bill rustling with the fallen garbage. Bill would pick up other people’s garbage, that’s just the kind of guy he was. Stan likes to think of himself as that kind of guy too - but Stan has a good enough sense of self to know he’s not like Bill in that way. He’s like Bill in some ways, but not in the touching mouldy food way. The back door opened and Stan looked up from the prep bench he was leaning on to greet Bill. Bill was adorning the uniformed white apron and white diner hat. That was where their uniform ended, but it was an unwritten rule to wear a black or grey t-shirt and black bottoms, mainly just to avoid ruining good clothes. “Hey Bill, I have your prep done. All you have to do this morning is cook them off.” Bill grinned as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up on the hooks beside the door. “T-thanks Stan. Has M-M-Mike come with the deliveries yet? W-we were out of eggs l-last night.” Stan shrugged his shoulders. “Not yet, but it’s raining so he’s probably just taking it easy with the precious cargo.” Bill laughed and walked into the large fridge which was tucked away beside the oven. “It’s w-w-w-warmer in here th-th-than outs-s-ide.” Stan couldn’t see Bill, but if he walked into the fridge he’d imagine he could see his breath. “Eddie coming in at n-n-n-nine?” Bill said, slightly louder than before as he hunted for the items he’d need for breakfast at the back of the fridge. Stan thought for a second, to try to remember what he had written on the rota before answering Bill. “Yeah, he’s in nine to five today as usual.” Stan’s eye caught a handwritten note which was taped to the wall beside him. Stanley, I will be conducting interviews for new staff members this week for weekends. They will be starting next weekend, keep this in mind for next weekend’s rota. Thanks, Louis Denton “Hey! Did you know we’re getting more people next weekend?” Stan turned to Bill, who was walking out of the fridge with about 6 boxes of bacon and 4 bottles of pre-made pancake batter. Stan pretended not to notice him almost dropping one. “W-we are? C-cool! We should t-t-tell Richie. Maybe he’ll st-stop asking us for money. I th-think Eddie must give ab-about half his w-w-w-wages to Richie for the Arcade.” Bill dropped the supplies with a large thump onto the bench. Stan stood in horror at what Bill was suggesting. “W-we need someone to work out fr-front, waiting and working the d-drinks and c-cash, R-Richie could do that.” Stan could literally not think of anything he needed less in his workplace than Richie running about around ovens and boiling oil and knives. “Nope. Absolutely not happening. I can man out front fine on my own.” Bill smirked. “T-That’s not what you s-said last week when you w-w-were on the verge of a muh-muh-mental breakdown.” Stan rolled his eyes. “We were busy and Eddie had phoned in sick, you were stressed too, asshole.” “E-Eddie’s mom, you mean.” Bill corrected. Stan rolled his eyes lightheartedly in response and continued to write up the rota, bringing one of the evening workers in a longer shift to cover for Stan doing training. He didn’t think Beverley would mind, she always asks for extra shifts. She would probably work every night and day if he asked. He’d make sure to ring her at a more reasonable hour than six-thirty to check, as per routine. It was afternoon, the eggs had been delivered and the Bill gave Mike a free waffle to eat as he signed delivery papers. Stan thought maybe he should be more professional and not give away free food, but Mike gives them a discount so he thinks it’s fair. Stan was waiting orders, there wasn’t a whole lot, mainly truck drivers and a family of 4 visiting relatives 4 towns over. It was a calm atmosphere, it was lunch rush and there was only 2 tables filled and 3 men sitting at the long bench where Stan was refilling coffee. Eddie came out with a container full of freshly clean white coffee cups. Sweat was beating down his face and his inhaler was protruding out of his pocket. “Eddie, it’s not a race, you know? You can slow down before you have an asthma attack.” Stan suggested. Eddie looked at him as if he called him every incredulous name he could think of. “Do you know how quickly bacteria multiplies? If i slow down a plate might sit for ten minutes. By that time the bacteria has spread tenfold. And what if one of them happens to be freaking… Salmonella or something? Then do you know what happens, Stan?” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth in an overly-panicked habit. Stan started unloaded the cups from Eddie's arms onto the shelves behind him. “What happens, Eddie?” Eddie’s eyes blinked about six times as he tried to force the words out of his throat as fast as he possibly could. “Someone eats, I don't know… a slice of freakin apple pie or something and feeds it to their kid. Children’s immune systems can’t handle salmonella, Stan. The kid is dead because I took too long to clean the plate. That’s what will happen.” Stan took the last of the cups from Eddie, expecting him to walk back to his station, but he didn’t. He stood his ground expecting a confirmation. “Eddie, that’s not going to happen. I mean, it could, but statistically, it’s very improbable.”

Eddie gave Stan an offended look and walked out. Stan heard the trigger of his aspirator through the swing of the door. Stan continued to serve people with a fake smile. The mother from the family at the table had flirted with him, he was flustered but held his cool and continued to be professional. She gave him a $5 tip. After a few hours it had quietened down, there was only and old Polish lady sitting beside the window drinking coffee, so Bill and Eddie came out front to relieve themselves of boredom. Stan was keeping himself busy polishing the cutlery, Eddie - who had taken off his ridiculous gloves - was messing with the jukebox, trying to play some better music than whatever was drifting through the speakers now.

“Hey! This piece of shit doesn’t even have Raining Men . What kind of bullshit is that? Stan I want this rectified by next week.” Eddie complained from the jukebox. Stan barely lifted his head from cleaning a spoon.

“I d-d-don’t think that Stan has control o-o-over the music.” Bill piped up from a magazine he was flipping through. Stan glanced at it. It was a furniture catalogue.

Eddie laughed, “Yeah, there’d be worse music coming out if it was Stan’s.”

Stan scoffed. “Cyndi Lauper is far better than any of the crap you listen to, Eddie. It’s not my fault your brain’s broken.”

Eddie looked offended. Stan often wonders how Eddie can spend so much time around Richie when he gets defensive about everything. Once Stan commented that Eddie got a haircut and Eddie’s face was red as a tomato by the end of his defensive tangent. “I actually think, that according to the latest Rolling Stones magazine, Clash has been rated one of the best music legends of the 20th century.”

Bill cut in, “One of the b-b-best. Cyndi L-Lauper could be up t-there.” Eddie responded by giving Bill the finger, muttering something about Bill being a shit-stirrer. Bill raised his hands in defensive and smiled out of the side of his mouth at Stan. “I-I’m just st-st-stating an ob-observation, Eddie.”

Stan shook his head and continued polishing spoons. They didn’t really look any different, but it gave his hands something to do.

The front door slammed open with such force that Stan thought that it had shattered. The Polish lady didn’t flinch. She made him feel uneasy. “What is up fuckers and fuck-lets!?”

Stan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Richie, language. You could get us in trouble.”

He saw what he assumed was Georgie drowning in one of Richie’s hoodies cross the threshold into the diner. “What’s up fuckers?” Georgie beamed.

Bill choked on his own tongue as he tried to say something but could not, for the life of him, get any words out. Eddie, of course, was laughing. “Dude that’s messed up, look-” he gestured to a flabbergasted Bill - “you’ve broken Bill!”

Stan shook his head and deadpanned. “Richie, what the hell?”

Richie, naturally found this hilarious and had a shit-eating grin on his face. Stan wanted to punch it. Georgie was completely oblivious to what was going on, but was happy to see Bill. He ran up to the counter and struggled to get himself onto the tall stools. Richie’s hoodie was shielding his eyes and all Stan could see was his tongue poking out in concentration.

Stan bent over the counter and helped hoist Georgie up. He poured him a glass of milk and set it down onto a coaster. Stan patted Bill on the shoulder and went to go refill napkins.

“Guh-Guh-Georgie, don’t s-say th-that aguh-again or Mom will be c-cross.” Bill managed to force out of his body, he seemed like the words actually physically exhausted him to say. Richie laughed again.

Georgie looked up at Bill or tried to at least. Bill pushed the hood off Georgie’s face to reveal a big frown. “But Richie said it would be funny, Bill.”

Bill reached for a straw from the cylindrical container on the counter and put it in Georgie’s milk. “That word is for grown-ups. It’s a bad word.” Georgie nodded solemnly, taking Bill’s words as gospel.

Richie walked over and took a napkin out of Stan’s hand and blew his nose with it. It was a loud, animal-like sound, or maybe a tuba. Either way it was disgusting. As Richie pulled it away from his face, a long green string kept the napkin and his own nose connected. Eddie, who had turned round after hearing the distressing noise had gagged violently and sprinted out into the back and away from this nonsense. Stan screwed his nose up at Richie, who seemed unfazed by this green string of snot. Richie wiped his nose again with the other side of the napkin and threw it at Stan. “Dude! What the hell that’s disgusting!” Stan jumped back, his hip clipped the side of the row of shelves behind him. Richie laughed in response. “I’m serious Richie, pick it up.”

“Are you gonna kick lil ol’ me out, Mister Stanley?” Richie spoke in his Southern Belle voice, pouting his lip and fluttering his eyelashes. “All I wanted to do was share fluids, Mister Stanley. Don’t be mad!”

Stan visibly grimaced at Richie, moreso at the terrible accent than the words he was saying. “Actually I can.”

“Share fluids?”

“Kick you out. Out you go. See you at school Richie.”

Stan began pushing Richie to the door while Richie just allowed Stan to manoeuvre him. “You can’t kick me out! I work here!”

Stan stopped in his tracks, hands still touching Richie’s shoulders. He leaned slightly closer to him, maybe only by an inch. “What did you just say?”

Richie grinned at Stan, as if he was showing off a prize. “I have an interview tomorrow. I’ll win him over with my good looks and charm, easy .”

Stan briefly considered quitting. The thought of putting up with Richie Tozier’s mouth and obnoxious touching for now 7 days a week made Stan wonder if he could pull off a homicide.

Richie noticed Stan pausing and wrapped his arm tight around Stan’s shoulders. “I know, Stanny-boy, it’s hard to contain the excitement, but please - don’t cry! I promise that there’s enough of me to go around - and I mean plenty.”

Stan shrugged off Richie’s arm. “I peed beside you in the urinal last week. I know that’s not true.”

“Have you been replaying us peeing together in your head at night? When no one else is around? Say it ain’t so Stan! You like me! You really, really like me!”

Stan took a calming breath and turned back round to go back to work.

“See you next Saturday!” Richie yelled as Stan walked away.

“Mister Denton hates you after you drove your bike through the doors last year. No way he’d hire you.” Stan quipped before disappearing out back.

Bill looked up from Georgie, “I m-mean, he’s n-n-not wrong.”

Richie blew a raspberry at Bill. “Georgie, you do it too.” And as commanded, Georgie blew a raspberry at Bill, who started tickling him.

“Now can I get some actual fucking service around here?” Richie demanded, Bill didn’t even have to ask what he needed. He nodded his head as he went to go make two rounds of pancakes. He ruffled Georgie’s dusty blonde hair and followed Stan’s departure.

Richie didn’t actually think he’d get the job. Mr.Denton actually did hate him. Just because he broke a single window that one time! And then once more after that, but he insists that it was Eddie's fault for daring him to kick a football through an open window and that wasn't actually open. It was worth a shot, Bill never complains and Stan doesn't mind working there. Eddie complains but he complains about everything. Plus, it means he gets to annoy Stan every day.

He smiled. He loved the disgruntled look on Stan's face everytime he said something that irritated him. Or the way that Stan would give him that trademark deadpan look. He was the easiest to get a reaction from, but his reactions were so subtle and that's why Richie loved them.

Georgie started to blow bubbles in his milk. Richie gave Bill’s brother a pat on the back.

He really can't wait to nail this interview. (Or at least that's what he keeps telling himself)

Next Chapter

#txt #it fanfiction #stozier #stan uris #richie tozier #ff #dywfwt #mine

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believingispowerfulmagic · 7 years

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A Valentine’s Day Surprise

Happy Valentine’s Day to @sweetsmiles1! I was your Love, OQ Secret Admirer! I hope you enjoy the fic I wrote for you and that you have a great Valentine’s Day!

cc: @oqcelebration

“Happy birthday, Mom!” Henry entered her bedroom, carrying a tray loaded with pancakes and coffee.

Regina sat up, smiling at her son. “Henry. You didn’t have to do this.”

He gave her a look as he set the tray down over her legs. “It’s your birthday. Of course, I want to celebrate. And breakfast in bed is tradition. Eat up!”

She chuckled and cut into the pancakes, a sign her little prince was growing up. When he was younger, her breakfast was usually cereal and orange juice. He eventually graduated to toast and learned to make coffee. Now, he was making pancakes. What would he be doing next?

“Thank you, Henry,” she said. “This was so thoughtful.”

He grinned, folding his legs underneath him to look at her. “What else do you want to do? It’s your special day.”

She chewed her pancake for a bit, carefully wording her answer. “I think I just want to have a normal day, Henry. That’s all. No fuss, no distractions. Just go on like it’s any other day.”

“But it’s not another normal day,” Henry insisted. “It’s your birthday and we should celebrate, Mom.”

“We are celebrating. You’ve made me breakfast and then we’ll have some cake tonight, just you and me. Okay?” Regina tucked two fingers underneath his chin, smiling at him as she prayed he would back down.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Is this about Robin?”

“No,” she said, meaning it. “You know I’ve never been big about celebrating my birthday. I’d rather celebrate yours.”

“Because I’m worth celebrating,” Henry replied. When she nodded, he then countered: “I think you’re worth celebrating.”

Her heart melted and she put the tray aside so she could hug him. “If it means so much to you, then I guess we can go to dinner at Granny’s and you can invite the Charmings. How’s that?”

His smile lit up the room. “That sounds great, Mom. I know everyone will appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied before holding up a finger. “I draw the line at Granny’s wait staff singing to me. Do we understand?”

“Don’t worry, Mom. It’ll be a quiet affair. I promise.” He hopped off the bed. “I need to go call Grandma. You enjoy your breakfast.”

Once Henry was gone, she pulled the tray back and dug into her cooling breakfast. It was just one dinner with the Charmings. She figured the worst that would happen was an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” over the cake while the entire restaurant tried not to stare. It seemed tolerable.

She hoped.

Regina took a deep breath before opening the door to Granny’s diner that night. She had spent the afternoon pampering herself in anticipation (and at Henry’s insistence she relax), soaking in a bubble bath and then using a facial mask as well as other products for her skin. Dressed in red, her power color, Regina definitely felt confident.

It still didn’t mean she was prepared to spend an entire evening with the Charmings and their annoying optimistic tendencies.

She stepped inside and spotted Henry waving at her from one of the booths. Regina waved back and started to head toward the booth. The other patrons nodded in acknowledgment of her, a change from just a few years prior when most wouldn’t have made eye contact with her. As she approached the booth, one waitress smiled as she passed. “Happy birthday, Madam Mayor.”

“Thank you,” she forced herself to say. She then turned on her son. “What was my one condition?”

He grinned. “Relax, Mom. We had to give Granny the cake, so everyone found out. But I made it clear that there is to be no singing.”

“Don’t worry, Regina,” Emma piped up. “I think it’s a bit embarrassing to have the staff sing to you as well.”

Snow beamed up at Regina. “Thank you so much for letting us come to your birthday dinner. It means a lot.”

“I guess it does,” she agreed, sliding in next to Henry. It felt both strange yet right to be celebrating with her stepdaughter and her family.

Hook cleared his throat, picking up the menu. “So, Your Majesty, what will it be for your special day?”

“And don’t think of ordering something super healthy,” Emma added. “Calories don’t count on your birthday.”

Regina gave her a look over the menu but couldn’t help her amused smile as she perused the options. Granny’s menu hadn’t changed much over the past thirty years but she still looked every time, just in case something new had snuck its way onto the list of offerings.

In the end, she decided to have a grilled chicken sandwich and French fries. It was enough to keep Emma from teasing her and they all soon fell into an easy conversation as their food arrived.

By the time their dishes were cleared away, Regina felt quite relaxed. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, the dinner had been exactly what she needed for her birthday. She rubbed Henry’s back, smiling at him in gratitude. He must’ve picked it up because the smile he gave her back seemed a bit smug.

Granny approached the table, carrying a red velvet cake with lit candles. She placed it down in front of Regina. “Now, I know you don’t want my staff to sing, but can a few friends sing for you?” she asked.

Regina bit her lip before sighing. “I guess. Just as long as it doesn’t turn out to be the entire diner.”

“Fair enough,” she replied. “But it’s just everyone at this booth. Is that fine?”

“Yes,” Regina conceded. “Just...not so loud.”

Granny rolled her eyes. “Okay. On three. One...two...three…”

The singing wasn’t too bad and Regina found herself cringing only once. It was blissfully short and then Granny was saying: “Make a wish and blow out the candle.”

Surrounded by her smiling family, Regina realized she had no choice. Yet she didn’t know what she was going to wish for. Maybe she could just blow out the candle without making a wish…

You know what you want. What’s the harm in wishing for it? asked a traitorous voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Tink.

It won’t come true. It can’t come true. I’ll just end up with a broken heart, she argued with herself.

Come on, Regina. You’ve seen the power of wishes. Just believe.

“Regina?. The candle is starting to drip wax over the frosting,” Emma said. “Make a wish and blow.”

Regina glared at her but took a deep breath. She blew out the candle as her wish echoed around her mind:

I wish Robin and Roland would come back to me.

Everyone clapped and Granny picked up the cake. “I’ll go get this cut up and be right back.”

She walked off as Snow pulled something from her bag. It was a small wrapped box with a purple bow on top. “I know you probably didn’t want any gifts, but I found this and knew it was for you.”

Curious, Regina unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Sitting on a bed of cotton was a beautiful tan father with dark brown tips. Her heart beat faster as she picked it up, rolling the feather between her fingers. “Is this…?”

“I think so,” Snow said. “It looks like a feather from an arrow and both David and Hook said it looked like the ones they saw on Robin’s arrows.”

“It must’ve been floating around Storybrooke since Zelena lost it,” Henry said, smiling at her. “And now it’s come back to you.”

Regina smiled, holding the feather to her heart as she looked at Snow. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

Granny returned with a tray laden with slices of cake. “Okay, who wants a piece?” she asked.

As the others reached for their slices, Regina tucked the feather inside her purse. Perhaps her wish had come true after all, even if not in the exact way she had meant.

Zelena showed up on her doorstep and few days later, rocking a fussy Peanut in her arms. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked paler than usual. Regina frowned. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Robyn has been crying all the time,” Zelena said. “I think she’s teething and I’m the one feeling the pain.”

“Trust me, Zelena, your pain is nothing to what she’s experienced. Do you have a teething ring or teething biscuits for her?” Regina asked, taking her niece into her arms.

Zelena frowned, digging through her diaper bag. “I think I have something in here. But I don’t get how a plastic ring is supposed to help her.”

“You’re supposed to put it in the freezer. The cold will soothe her sore gums and give her something to bite on.”

“Oh,” Zelena replied. “They don’t tell you that.”

Regina sighed. “You can always ask for help. No one can parent without it. Trust me.”

“Even an expert like you?” Zelena snapped.

“Trust me, I was no expert when I first adopted Henry,” she replied, bouncing the girl. “I made plenty of mistakes with him.”

“Like not revealing your true self to him?”

That surprised Regina and she gaped at her sister. “What do you mean by that?”

Zelena smirked as she approached. “Your other, better half said she regretted hiding herself from Henry, which was why he pushed her...you...away. She warned me about doing the same thing with Robyn.”

“Is that why you were housing her? Turned Archie into a cricket again?” Regina asked, concerned. “So you could show your daughter how wicked you are?”

“Yes,” Zelena replied, grinning with happiness. “Can you imagine what a pair we would be?”

Fear and disgust filled Regina. And then anger burned inside her. “This is what Robin feared you would do. This is why he didn’t want you to raise her.”

Zelena’s smile dimmed. “Well, he isn’t here, is he?”

“And whose fault is that?” Regina snapped back.

“You can’t keep blaming me for that,” Zelena argued. “Hades threatened you and Robin took the blast. May I remind you I kept Hades from finishing the job?”

“We shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place, Zelena! We warned you that Hades had ulterior motives, that he wasn’t too be trusted. You barricaded yourself and Robyn with him in my office. You didn’t give us much of a choice.”

“You could’ve chosen to trust me,” Zelena yelled back. “You could’ve let me handle Hades.”

Regina shook her head. “The entire town would be in the Underworld if we let you do that.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” her sister said, sneering.

“I don’t think I am,” Regina replied. She looked down at her niece, realizing she had been chasing a damn feather when her last remaining connection to Robin was his sweet daughter. A sweet daughter who was now in danger. “I don’t think I can let you keep her, Zelena.”

The air crackled with tension as the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. “You can’t do that. I’m her mother,” Zelena said.

“I have to consider Robyn’s best interests. Especially since Robin isn’t here to do that,” Regina replied.

Zelena let out a humorless laugh. “Like you actually give a damn. You certainly haven’t since he died.”

“I’ve been busy,” Regina protested weakly, though she knew Zelena was right. She hadn’t paid much attention to Robyn and it almost cost the girl so much.

“Well, I think that’s been enough,” Zelena said, trying to take Robyn from her aunt’s arms. “It’s time for us to go.”

Regina took a step back, holding Robyn closer to her chest. “You can leave. Robyn is staying here. With me.”

“On what grounds?”

“Where should I begin?” Regina countered. “You’re sharing a house with my evil half, plotting with her and have admitted to me that you hope to make Robyn as wicked and evil as you two.”

She swore steam came out of her sister’s ears. “You can’t just take her from me! I’m the only parent she has ever known!”

“That’s a lie and you know it. Robin did everything in his power to take care of this little girl and keep her safe.”

“Which is why he foisted her off on the fairies and followed Emma down to the Underworld,” Zelena said.

Regina wanted to pull her sister’s hair out. “We went over that. And at least we made arrangements for her. You just leave her in the cabin while off helping the Queen.”

“I have that farmhouse charmed and warded to kingdom come. I can hear Robyn cry anywhere in this town and can be by her side with a wave of my hand,” Zelena argued.

“That’s not good enough, Zelena. Babies need constant attention. She’ll be crawling soon--and then walking. If she’s teething, she’s probably already trying to put things in her mouth. What if she puts the wrong thing in there and you’re not around?” Regina asked.

Zelena scoffed. “Like you would be any better? You’re always running around with those so-called heroes. What would you do with Robyn?”

It was a valid question. Regina looked down at her niece, who had fallen asleep despite the argument going on around her, and knew what her answer was in her heart. “I’d limit my help to whatever I could do while keeping an eye on Robyn. And if need be, then I would get her adequate care. I would put her first.”

“We’ll see,” Zelena snarled. “We’re not done yet, little sister. Not by a long shot.”

She dropped the diaper bag to the floor and then flicked her wrist, disappearing in a cloud of green smoke. Regina sagged into the nearest chair, still rocking Robyn. She smiled at the baby girl before kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry, Peanut. I’ll keep you safe. Just like your daddy did.”

Regina adjusted to having a baby in the house again. It was easier with her magic, able to conjure up a nursery and all the supplies she would need. Baby Robyn didn’t seem to notice the change in her caregivers, making Regina feel guilty that she had too many changes in her short life so far. However, she knew it was best that Zelena not keep the baby girl with her. Not if she was reverting to her wicked ways and determined to raise Robyn to be the same.

She owed it to Robin.

It was difficult not to rush off with the others when something came up now. Regina often had to hold back, remaining with Peanut while she did research. The baby didn’t seem to mind, enjoying bouncing in her carrier while Regina played with one of her tiny feet. And if Regina was needed, Henry or Belle often stepped in to watch Peanut for a few hours.

Peanut was also too young to notice that her aunt couldn’t bring herself to call the baby “Robyn” and had resorted to the nickname she had given her hours after her birth. No matter what Regina called her, Peanut lit up at the sound of her voice and would try to reach out for her, wanting a cuddle.

Regina always obliged.

“You look happy, Mom,” Henry said one night. They were sitting on the couch together, him watching a movie while she fed a sleepy Peanut.

“Hmm?” She looked up, noticing her son watching her with a smile on his face. “What?”

“It’s just since Peanut came, you’ve been happier. Even when you’re frustrated that you can help like you once did,” he explained, moving closer to her.

Regina paused, thinking it over. “I guess I am. I’ve been so focused on what I lost, I neglected what Robin left behind.”

He nodded. “I always wondered why you didn’t try to keep her. I couldn’t tell if it was because you were giving Zelena a chance or because she reminded you too much of Robin.”

“I guess it was both,” Regina admitted. “And then I was so focused on my evil half, I didn’t stop to think about the most innocent person involved in this.”

“I don’t think the Evil Queen would ever hurt her,” Henry offered. “She may have some questionable parenting beliefs, but she’s a mother at heart. Just like you.”

She melted at that and kissed her son’s cheek. “Thank you. But the Evil Queen is focused on tearing this family apart and Zelena is borderline neglectful, not fully understanding what a baby needs. I should’ve fought harder for her.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of an adorable young boy with an unruly mop of dark curls, sparkling brown eyes and irresistible dimples. “I should’ve fought harder for Roland too.”

“You didn’t have much of a choice,” Henry assured her. “The Merry Men chose to go back and you had agreed it was best for Roland to stay with those who knew him and Robin best.”

“I know, but he once asked me if I was his new mommy. Robin and I told him that he could consider me that if he wanted. Because I saw him as another son. And then I allowed him to go away. What kind of mother does that?” She bit back a sob.

Henry stood and got the tissue box, handing it to her. Regina pulled out a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. You’re the kid, I’m the parent. You should be unloading on me, not the other way around.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “Besides, I’ll keep that in mind for my next round of teenage angst.”

She chuckled as someone rang the doorbell. Henry jumped up. “I’ll get it. You focus on Peanut.”

He left the room and she eased the bottle from between the baby girl’s lips. She brought Peanut to her shoulder, patting her back. A soft burp came from the girl followed by a big one. Peanut then settled down, her little face buried in the crook of Regina’s neck as she hummed softly to the baby.

“Where’s Regina?” For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating Roland’s sweet voice. Then he appeared in her living room, beaming at her. “Regina!”

“Roland!” she replied, letting out a little laugh. “My little knight is back.”

He nodded, climbing onto the couch and hugging her. She wrapped her free arm around him, enjoying the feeling of having both of Robin’s children in her arms.

It felt perfect.

“Regina,” Little John said, appearing in her living room. He clutched his hat in his hands as he watched her.

She smiled at him. “Hello, Little John. I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I’m sure,” he replied, looking nervous. “We’ve been trying to get back here almost from the moment we got back to the Enchanted Forest. It took some time to find a way back, though.”

“Why?” she asked, confused. Were things so bad in the Enchanted Forest that they were forced to come back?

“Because I missed you,” Roland replied, leaning against her shoulder. “I wanted to come back to you.”

She bit back a sob as she kissed his forehead. “I’m very glad to have you back.”

“I’m sorry,” Little John said. “I shouldn’t have taken him from you.”

“You had every right to. I’m sure Robin would’ve wanted him with you. You’ve known him since he was a baby,” Regina replied. “Though I do wish you had stayed here in Storybrooke at least.”

He nodded. “A few us have come back. We’re staying at Granny’s so we’re close to Roland.”

“You mean…” Her question died on her tongue.

Little John knew what she wanted to ask. “Yes, Roland is going to live with you. It’s what he wants.”

“Can I, Regina?” he asked, still leaning against her.

She kissed his head. “Of course you can, sweetheart.”

Little John said good night to Roland and assured him that he was just at Granny’s. Roland, though, was happy being back with Regina and he played with his little sister as Henry showed the older man out.

Henry returned, sitting down next to his mother. “Looks like we have a full house again,” he said with a smile.

“We do,” she replied, feeling her cheeks start to hurt from how big she was smiling. It fell a little as she grew concerned. “Are you okay with that?”

“Of course. This house has always been too big for just the two of us,” he replied, grinning. He laid his head on her shoulder now that Peanut was resting against her breasts. Regina just sat there, enjoying having all her children home safe and sound.

Perhaps the feather wasn’t her wish being answered, but this--having Robin’s children with her, having that bit of his soul always by her side once again.

As always, Valentine’s Day snuck up on her. She didn’t realize what day it was until she woke to find Peanut was not in her crib. Fighting her rising panic, Regina rushed downstairs to make sure Henry had taken the baby and not Zelena, despite all the wards and charms placed around the house to prevent that. Relief flooded through her when she saw Peanut sitting in her carrier, kicking her feet as Henry and Roland placed some pancakes on a plate.

“What is going on here?” she asked, hands on her hips.

Roland ran up to her, holding out a red paper heart. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Oh,” she said, taking the heart with a smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Henry and I made breakfast while Peanut watched. Since she can’t do much as baby,” he continued, taking Regina’s hand and leading her over to the table.

They ate their pancakes as Roland chatted about his upcoming day at school. He loved going there and interacting with the other kids. And he loved that he was learning how to read, just like Henry.

When they were done, Henry helped clean up as Roland entertained his sister. Regina kissed her eldest son’s cheek. “This was sweet. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m taking Violet out tonight and so I knew I wouldn’t be home for dinner. I wanted to do something special for you.”

Though it pained her to think of her little prince all grown up and going on dates, Regina hugged him. “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too, Mom.” He then stepped away and held out his hand to Roland. “You ready for school?”

Roland nodded before hurrying over to her. He threw his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. “I love you, Mom.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she crouched down to hug him tighter. She ran her fingers through his curls. “I love you, too. Have a good day at school.”

“I will.” He kissed her cheek before running after Henry so he could get his coat and backpack.

Once she saw her two boys onto the bus, Regina turned to Peanut as she closed the door. The baby girl gnawed on a teething biscuit and she kissed her forehead, smelling the baby shampoo she used during the girl’s bath the night before. Regina had never been one to celebrate Valentine’s Day, usually just getting handmade Valentines and then a small dinner with Henry. Even when she had Robin, there was always some crisis that had prevented them from celebrating. She had always thought there would be another year, which seemed so foolish in hindsight. Now, though, with her two boys and the sweetest baby ever, Regina felt a bit more festive than usual.

“What do you say to an Auntie and Me day?” she asked the baby, holding her phone. “You and me going to the park, maybe that parent and me swimming class…?”

Peanut clapped and Regina called her assistant, telling her to hold all her calls and to inform everyone she was taking a personal day. “Spending Valentine’s day with a special someone?” her assistant asked.

“I am,” Regina replied, bouncing Peanut. She let out a happy gurgle. “You go spend it with someone special too.”

“Thank you, Madame Mayor. Have Valentine’s Day,” the woman said before hanging up.

Regina set down the phone and started to head to Peanut’s nursery. “Let’s go get ready for our special day, hmm?”

The baby laughed in response.

Peanut took to the water like a fish. When the session ended, Regina had difficulty getting her out of the pool. She kept screaming and trying to squirm out of her arms to get back in. Regina had to hold her tight, trying to soothe her. “We’ll come back, baby girl,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Her words did little to calm Peanut, who fought her as Regina took off her little bathing suit and put her in regular clothes again. She fussed all the way to the car and let out little cries of indignation until Regina pulled into the park. Once she saw the trees, the girl brightened and she kicked her legs as Regina took her out of the car seat. Chuckling, Regina held Peanut close. “You really are your father’s daughter, aren’t you?”

She put Peanut in the stroller and they went for a walk through the woods. By the time they got back to the car, Peanut was sound asleep and it was time to pick up Roland from school.

Once back at the mansion, Regina unclicked the carrier from the base in order not to wake Peanut. She let Roland in and he stopped short, pointing to the floor. “Mom, what’s that?”

“What’s what?” she asked before following his finger. A red rose petal lay on the floor and as she scanned the area, she saw a trail of them leading to her dining room. Her brow furrowed in confusion, unsure who would do this and coming up with only one solution:

Queenie wanted to mess with her.

She pressed her finger to her lips and motioned for Roland to follow her to the living room. Regina put down Peanut and then had him sit next to the carrier on the couch. “I need you to stay with your sister, okay?” she asked in a whisper.

“Okay,” he whispered back, placing a hand on Peanut’s leg. “I’ll keep her safe, Mom.”

Regina kissed his forehead before following the rose petals, conjuring up a fireball as she entered the dining room. It died out, though, as she took in the man laying out her fine china: Tall, with thick blond hair that was graying at the temples, and matching blond scruff that felt wonderful against her skin. Bright blue eyes that always seemed to be able to look right into her heart and soul. Dark green sweater over a white shirt paired with black pants.

It was impossible. He couldn’t be there, in her house. Which meant only one thing…

“How dare you?” Anger and grief bubbled up and she almost screamed in a primal rage.

He looked up, blue eyes wide in surprise. “Regina! I didn’t hear you come in…”

She lunged at him, gripping his sweater in her fists and giving him a shake. “How dare you! This is too far, even for you.”

“Regina, I don’t understand…” He sounded so confused and somewhat scared but she didn’t care.

Queenie was an excellent actress.

“Drop the act, lose the glamor spell,” she snarled. “Now is not the time for your games. Not this one, not today.”

Strong arms gripped her shoulders and he pushed her back a bit, blue eyes looking into hers. “Regina, I don’t know who you think I am, but I can assure you it’s me. Robin.”

“Robin’s dead,” she sobbed. “Don’t play with my head and my heart. Please.”

“I was dead. I know that. I remember that. But I’m not anymore. Something brought me back, Regina,” he said. “I’m here now and this is true.”

Even those familiar words, so reassuring before the Curse of Shattered Sight, now only brought more pain. She couldn’t trust them. Queenie had all her memories and would know everything Robin had ever said to her. Tears streamed down her cheeks harder.

Perhaps Queenie finally found the way to break her.

“Is this because I took Robyn from Zelena?” she asked between sobs. “Are you trying to punish me on her behalf?��

He raised a hand to cup her cheek. “I know a way to prove I am who I say I am. Okay?”

Before she could protest, he pressed his lips to hers. Her heart skipped a beat and the familiar fire ignited low inside her. Queenie could take on his appearance, mimic his mannerisms, recreate his voice and parrot back his words, but she could never kiss like him. Nor would she smell of forest, of pine and fresh air.

This was real.

This was true.

Robin was alive.

She broke the kiss, still crying but for a whole new reason. Cupping his cheek, she smiled. “You’re back.”

“I am,” he said before furrowing his brow in confusion. “Who did you think I was? And why would that person be avenging Zelena?”

“It’s a long story,” she replied with a chuckle before kissing him again. “I still can’t believe you’re here. How?”

He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. The last thing I remember is your face right after taking the hit from the crystal. And then I was standing in the middle of the woods. It was clear seasons had passed and I rushed back to where I thought my Merry Men had made camp.”

“They went back to the Enchanted Forest. A few have come back…”

“I know,” he said. “I found Little John. He told me about what had happened and how much time had passed.”

She nodded before frowning. “How long have you been back?”

“Not long,” he assured her. “Maybe a few days. When I realized Valentine’s Day was so close, I plotted the perfect way to reveal myself to you. Apparently, there are other circumstances I probably should’ve been aware of.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “And I’ll tell you all about it later. First, I think there are two other people who will be happy to see you.”

Robin grinned, nodding. “Roland and Carina.”

“Carina?” Regina tilted her head. “You had a name for her?”

“Yes. I thought of it while in the Underworld. I was staring up at the sky, wishing there were stars. And then I thought of the constellations, recalling one called Carina. I know it’s part of a ship but I remembered hearing that as a name, it meant ‘beloved,’” he explained. “And I thought about the awful circumstances that resulted in my daughter, that she would have that and who her mother was hanging over her. I wanted her to always know that she is loved and wanted.”

Fresh tears streamed down Regina’s cheeks. “Zelena named her Robyn after you...but I could never call her that. I nicknamed her Peanut.”

He chuckled. “While that’s a cute nickname and I’m honored my name was passed down to her, I think she should have her own identity. And I’m biased toward Carina.”

“Me too,” she agreed, taking his hand. “Come on. Let’s go share her new name with her.”

They entered the living room together. Roland looked up from where he was entertaining Peanut with a rattle, eyes widening when he saw who was with Regina. He jumped up and raced into Robin’s arms with a joyful shout of “Papa!”

Robin held him close, tears now streaming down his face as he assured his son he was alive and wasn’t going anywhere. As he did that, Regina took Peanut from her carrier and brought her over to her father. She was quickly rechristened Carina and nestled in his arm as he leaned forward to kiss Regina.

Though Henry was missing, out with Violet, Regina still felt like her family was whole again.

That night, Regina put Roland and Carina to bed after a Valentine’s dinner of lasagna and wine. As she stepped out of Roland’s room, she heard soft music coming from her bedroom and headed down there. The lights were dimmed and Robin had placed several candles around her room, little flames flickering to cast an alluring glow.

She closed the door as he held out his hand, looking a bit sheepish. “Granny found Red’s old iPod and let me borrow it, so the music may not be our tastes, but I thought it appropriate…”

Listening, she heard Christina Perri’s voice singing about loving someone for a thousand years and she smiled, nodding. “I’ve heard this song,” she said. “I guess it is appropriate.”

Taking his hand, she let him pull her close and sway her in time to the music. She rested her forehead to his with a small smile. “I’m so glad you came back to me.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “Though I really am not sure how.”

She chuckled. “I made a wish. On my birthday. I wanted you and Roland to come back to me. And now you have.”

Robin tucked her hair behind her ear. “I have. And I think after everything we’ve been through, you’ll understand why I can’t promise you that I’ll never go away again. Because if I had to do it all over again, Regina, I would step in front of that beam for you without a second thought.”

“I know,” she said, the same dread and sorrow building in her as she thought of Robin’s lifeless body on the floor of her office.

He tilted her chin up so her eyes met his, shining with love through the dim candlelight. “But I also like to think that the universe keeps trying to make sure we end up together. So I promise to stay by your side for as long as the universe allows me the privilege to stay there.”

“I promise to do the same,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And before the universe decides to fuck me over again, I just want to say I love you. I realized I never said it…”

Robin pressed his finger to her lips. “You may have never said it, but I knew it. Actions speak louder than words. So do your eyes.”

She kissed him, nibbling his lower lip to get him to open his mouth to her. He did so easily and her tongue swept his mouth as she started to unbutton his shirt. Robin tugged at her shirt as well, sensing where she was heading with this.

They broke the kiss so he could pull the shirt over her head, depositing it on the floor with his own. Robin kissed her neck as he removed her bra, warm hands cupping her breasts once they were free. She busied herself with undoing his pants before she lost all conscious thought and just surrendered to the fire building inside her as Robin sucked at a pressure point.

Regina kicked away her skirt as he stepped out of his pants, trying to keep his hands on her at the same time. They fell onto her bed together, now both in their underwear. He pushed himself up on his elbow, eyes looking over her body as his hands roamed it. “As beautiful as I remember,” he breathed.

“You’re just as I remembered,” she replied, taking in his toned chest and the muscles built up after years of shooting arrows. “And you’re all mine.”

“Absolutely.” He rolled over, hovering over her as he grinned down at her. “Always.”

She swallowed, pulling him down by his neck to crash their lips together again. He was already hard against her and she could feel her panties growing wetter despite no attention paid lower than her breasts yet. Heat coiled low inside her, waiting for a release.

Robin kissed his way down her neck and then in the valley between her breasts. As he went lower, she writhed in anticipation, enjoying the feel of his scruff dragging across her skin again. She moaned as his tongue dipped into her navel, sending a teasing jolt to her core.

He peeled her panties away, tongue flicking out to taste and tease her before he removed the garment completely. Robin slid his hands up her legs, urging them further apart as he slid between them. She bent her knees as she drew up her legs and he gave a broad lick to her sex, making her whine out his name. It made him chuckle before he continued to suck and lap at her clit.

Regina’s toes curled and she grabbed at her blanket, her hips rising up to meet Robin’s tongue. Sweat began to trickle down her face and she closed her eyes as she felt the coil tighten as she continued to moan, babbling nonsense.

A finger slowly entered her and she almost shouted in frustration. Robin was teasing her, tormenting her, making her feel everything and forcing her to wait for the release her body was now trembling for. Her back arched as he curled the finger, brushing against her g-spot before it pulled out again.

His lips left her clit and she opened her eyes, meeting his as he raised his head. “Are you close, lovely?” he asked, voice husky. She could only nod, not trusting her own voice to work. He chuckled. “Good.”

She watched as he ducked his head down again, his tongue flicking at her clit as he inserted two fingers this time. Regina cried out, feeling her walls tighten around them. He pumped them slowly, lips closing around her overly sensitive nub again. Rational thought fled her mind and she careened over, yelling his name as she came.

Robin let her ride out her orgasm on his fingers, bringing her down. She lay there, trying to catch her breath as he shucked his own boxers. He then lay beside her, kissing her damp hair. “I’m so glad I can hear those sounds again,” he said.

She hummed, wrapping her fingers around his cock and she began to pump lazily. He was already rock hard in her grasp and her thumb brushed the precum already leaking from his tip. But neither was rushed to do much about it, enjoying kissing each other as she tasted herself on his tongue.

He nuzzled her as she tried not to cry again. “I’m so scared this is just a really, really good dream,” she admitted. “And that if we fall asleep, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”

“Understandable. I felt the same way the first few nights after we came back from New York,” he murmured.

Regina paused. “You did?”

He nodded. “I would wake up several times, reassuring myself I was back here, with you, and not still miles away.”

“I used to do the same then too,” she confessed. “And I feel like I have to do that again.”

“One day, maybe we’ll be able to fall asleep and trust that the other will be there when we wake up.” He kissed her forehead.

She let out humorless chuckle. “We have such fucked up lives.”

“Well,” he said, smiling, “no one can accuse us of being boring.”

This time, her laugh was sincere as she curled closer to Robin. He wrapped his arm around her and hoisted her on top of him as she let out a little squeak. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see you,” he replied. “All of you.”

She smiled, rising up to straddle him. Her fingers toyed with his nipples as his eyes roamed her body with unhidden lust. “Like this?” she asked, purring.

He swallowed as she dragged her folds over his cock, letting him feel how wet she still was. She took his hands, bringing them up to her breasts. “What do you want?”

“You,” he croaked before licking his lips. “I want to be inside you. Please.”

She grinned as his thumbs flicked her nipples. “Well, I think that can be arranged.”

He groaned as she sank down onto his cock, letting him fill her completely. She reached down to clutch at his shoulders, taking a few deep breaths as she reacquainted herself to the feeling of him inside her. Robin was patient, massaging her breasts as he waited for her to move again.

After a few minutes, she began to move, letting him fill her over and over as she picked up a fast pace. She wasn’t going to draw this out like he had earlier. Not with the fear that this could all be taken from her at any moment. And as good as this was, as it felt, she wanted to spend as much time curled up in his arms as possible.

“Regina,” he moaned, the sweetest sound she had heard since Roland called her mom. “Harder.”

“You sure?” she asked, panting already.

He groaned, hands sliding from her breasts to her hips as he met her with his own thrusts. “Yes, please.”

Regina picked up her speed, feeling herself climbing to that high again. She moaned, knowing she was close and hoping to take him over with her. “Come with me,” she panted.

Sitting up, he kissed her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He trailed wet open kisses down her neck as stars exploded before her eyes. She came again with his name on her lips, feeling him spill into her only a few moments later.

They collapsed back onto the mattress, Regina laying on top of Robin. Her ear was pressed to his chest, his heart racing under it. It assured her that he was truly alive and it soothed her.

“I look forward to a lifetime of this,” he said, kissing the top her head.

“Mind-blowing sex?”

He chuckled. “Well, yes. But I meant lying here with you in my arms.”

“Oh,” she replied, smiling as she played with his chest hair. “I guess I look forward to that too.”

“You don’t sound too sure about that.”

“I’m still not sure this isn’t some wonderful dream, remember?” She sighed, closing her eyes. “I’m trying to remain cautiously optimistic.”

Robin laughed. “I like that. Cautiously optimistic.”

Sleep tugged at her and she rolled off him, landing on her side of the bed. “We should get under the covers,” she murmured.

“Okay,” he said, kissing the back of her neck. “I’ve got it.”

He wrapped them in the blankets and spoon against her. “Good night, Regina.”

“Good night, Robin,” she replied. “I hope I see you in the morning.”

“You will,” he promised, arms tightening around her. “You will.”

Regina woke up the next morning to soft kisses being trailed along her shoulder, up her neck and then someone nipping at her ear. “Good morning, lovely,” Robin said, voice hoarse from sleep.

She rolled over, smiling as she saw him lying next to her. The sun backlit him, casting a beautiful glow around him as she rubbed his cheek. “Good morning,” she replied.

“I told you I would be here.” He grinned.

“Yes, you did.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you are.”

Robin kissed her. “Me too.”

She continued to kiss him, pulling on top of her. As his lips found her pressure point again, Regina wondered how he was going to top this Valentine’s Day next year.

She couldn’t wait to find out.

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #sweetsmiles1 #oqcelebration #lovefromoq #oq ff #oq smut #oq au #hood-mills family #mac's writing

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