#Hi yes I’d like the past twelve years of my life back bitch boy

[chronicallyfabulous22]

Ok ok

I talk a lot of shit and usually I end up being ~at least~ eighty percent correct.

But um…I have never been happier to eat my words

I have not been this in love with anything this man has done since the 2009 Doctor Who announcement.

I may have to find a new favorite gif of all time.

HBO hair and makeup you’re still on thin fucking ice.

But you did a really *really* good job on this.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 12 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter twelve

~|Emily Fox|~

“Can we do something tonight?” Madison asks me when we’re at school on Thursday. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long.” I shut my locker and shoulder my backpack. “I can’t tonight… I—” I realize I haven’t told her about Charlie yet, let alone about the band. “I have to work.” Madison lets out a loud groan. “You always have to work! Do you ever get a day off?” “I mean… Sunday’s are my days off?” “Yeah, but Sundays are for you and your Uncle Mitch,” she points out. Ever since Uncle Bobby’s death, Mitch and I have declared Sundays Emily-and-Mitch day. Just being together, watching movies and eating all the snacks, reminiscing about all the days with Uncle Robert. “Okay… Then how about our free period before lunch? We could just hang out in the school yard?” Madi raises an eyebrow at me, clearly not a fan of my plan. “I can’t help this, Mads, I got into a really big fight with Ash the other day and I’ve lost privileges of choosing my shifts.” I only realize I hadn’t told her about the fight with Ash either since it’s connected to Charlie and only the boys know about Charlie. Not even Mitch. Not even Madi. I want to see where it goes first before I tell anyone. I would’ve kept it from the boys too if they hadn’t barged in mid-kiss. Just thinking about that moment gives my lips the permission to curl up into a smile. “What was the fight about?” Of course she would ask that. “Uhm… Nothing too bad… Just something I…,” I trail off, trying to come up with the best excuse, “misplaced! Yeah, I misplaced something!” I sound way too excited about this. “And that’s why Ash got angry?” I nod my head slowly. This might not have been the best excuse. “She’s a little short tempered these days…” “Is she pregnant or something?” Madison actually believes me. Okay, now I feel even more like absolute shit for lying to her. But I can’t tell her. Not yet. Charlie and I has to be an us-thing before it can become an everyone-thing. “Not that I know, no…” Madison simply shrugs, says goodbye, and walks to her class, leaving me and my lying ass alone in the hallway. I take in a deep breath and head to my own class. I can’t believe I lied to my best friend about something as important as being in a band and a relationship with the cutest boy. I can’t wait to see him again tonight. “Oh, hey, Emily!” Not him. “Jake… Hey?” He gives me a teasing smirk whilst his eyes scan my entire being. “Can I help you?” I cross my arms over my chest, hoping it would protect me from this evil person-thing. “Uhm, yeah, I was wondering if you were—” Someone else I’d rather not be talking to interrupts him. “Is this underachiever bothering you, babe?” My hands ball up into fists. Customer-service-attitude, Emily. You can do this. I look up at Brianna’s tall stature. She’s actually my height, but decides to wear heels to school, just to tower over pretty much everyone, including Jake. “Actually, you’re both bothering me, so move.” There goes my customer-service-attitude. Brianna scoffs, placing her manicured hand on her chest, “Was that a threat?” “No, but it will be if you don’t get out of my way.” I push past them to make my way to my seat. I can deal with a lot of people at the Music Store, but Brianna and Jake are another level. “Don’t even bother coming to my party!” “I wasn’t planning too,” I scowl, then take a deep breath when the teacher walks in and shuts Brianna and Jake up too. You just got to get through this day and then you’ll see Charlie and the boys again. Just breathe. – Mmh, Charlie. The thought alone calms me down.

For a really long time, the Music Store has been my own little getaway. Away from people at school, away from life. Just a calming oasis for me and me alone. I don’t mind the boys ever being here, not at all. If anything, they add to that calming oasis. But that entire fata morgana of mine suddenly vanishes when Jake enters the store after school. I’ve been here for five minutes. Is this really necessary? “Can I help you?” I ask, not even bothering with my customer-service-smile. “Yeah, actually… I was wondering if you didn’t want to come to Brianna’s party this weekend? I think it’s going to be a blast.” I raise my eyebrows at him in disbelief. “I’d rather die than go to Brianna’s party, Jake. You of all people should know that.” I move away from the counter to go and help a customer at the guitars, but Jake stops me. “Just… Think about it, okay? I think it would be fun with you around?” He offers me that smile I fell in love with at one point a year ago. “Please, Emmy?” The nickname brings me straight back to planet earth. He knows what that nickname means to me. “I need to get back to work,” I tell him, and walk over to the teenage boy, staring at the guitars longingly. I grab one and hand it to him when I hear the bell ringing. I look up at the door to watch Jake walk away. Instead, I find Charlie passing him, offering Jake a kind smile. He has no clue who he’d just passed. “He didn’t look too satisfied,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Yeah, no…” Should I tell him or keep it a secret? Lying to Madi feels terrible, I can’t lie to Charlie now too. “That’s Jake… My ex-boyfriend…” Charlie’s eyes widen slightly, his lips parting to let out a breath. “He asked if I wanted to come to his new girlfriend’s party, who also happens to be the biggest bitch on the planet. So…” “Do you want to go?” I frown at his assumption that I would ever even think about going to a Brianna Holly party. “No! I’d rather die than go to her stupid party.” He chuckles, then bites his lip and steps forward, grabbing my hand. “Charlie, I got work to do…” I point to the cash register where a couple customers are waiting to pay. “We could go to the party together? Show your ex-boyfriend you’ve moved on to someone better?” I raise an eyebrow as my lips turn upwards without me wanting to. “You want me to use you as some sort of trophy?” “Yes! I can be your trophy wife!” He’s doing this on purpose to make me feel better, I’m sure. “Charlie…” I breathe out and take my hand back, so I can head to the counter where the customers are getting restless. Charlie, however, just follows me like a puppy. “Brianna Holly’s party is always this big bash in her dad’s mansion where very popular bands play and people think they’re the best of the best.” I scan the customer’s items and tell them how much they need to pay, keeping my customer-service-attitude. “What if we take the band and play a song ourselves? Could be great for some exposure? And you can show Brianna what you’re made off and we can show Jake what we have?” I say goodbye to the last customer, and even before they have turned their backs to us, Charlie hops onto the counter. “No, Charles!” I know what using his full name does to him. He gives me a sharp look and tilts his head a little, which makes him look like an actual puppy. “Can we drop it?” I grab the invoices of today from the cupboard behind me and slap them against his chest. His hand moves up to mine to grab the papers from me, but instead, he just halts. “I’m still going to ask the rest of the band and they’re going to say ‘yes’.” Now he grabs the papers from my hand and gets off the counter to start sorting. “You’re such a child,” I mutter before making my way to any mess that’s been made today. I can’t stop thinking about Jake though. Why does he want me to go to the party so badly? None of it makes any sense. That’s his girlfriend’s party and he wants his ex-girlfriend to go? Make it make sense, please. “BOYS!” Charlie shouts loudly the second the boys walk inside, making them – and me – jump. “We might have our first gig on Saturday!” I roll my eyes at Charlie, but I doubt he notices. “I wouldn’t call it a gig if one of your bandmates isn’t going to be there,” I mumble, not taking my eyes off the sheet music I’m sorting through. “Who’s not going to be there?” Jeremy asks, “Is it you, Owen?” “Is it you, Owen?” Owen mimics his buddy, his voice higher than it normally is, and slaps Jeremy on the back of the head again. “What’s the gig? And why don’t you want to go, Ems?” “It’s at the annual Brianna Holly party…” I trail off and make my way to the sheet music station to put the sorted papers back. “And we don’t like Brianna Holly?” Owen gets it. “Come on, Emily! It’s going to be amazing exposure for the band! And who knows? It could be fun to go together? Do something else for a change.” Charlie really isn’t going to drop this. I just stare at him for a while, not sure what to tell him. “Let’s vote! Who wants to go?” Jeremy and Charlie both raise their hands, Owen just looks at me with that worried, anxious look of his. “Come on, Owen! You love a good party!” “I don’t want to go if Emily doesn’t feel comfortable going.” I shoot him a thankful smile. “Hey,” Charlie moves closer towards me, taking my hand in his, “I think this might be a really good opportunity, for all of us. But if you really don’t want to go, we won’t go…” “Let’s rehearse a song, if it’s not perfect by Saturday, we don’t go, okay?” I’ve never seen a smile brighter than the one on Charlie’s face right now. He kisses my hand swiftly and grabs the electric guitar he’s been using for a while now. “Let’s get to rehearsing then!” Reggie grabs his bass and Owen goes to sit behind the drums while I take my place behind the keyboard. I play a few notes before starting to sing, the boys just looking at me, awaiting their turn to play. Playing with the boys is ever so exciting. Every song we’ve played so far just sounds magical and maybe sharing that magic at Brianna Holly’s party isn’t such a bad idea. “Hearts on fire We're no liars, so we say what we wanna say I'm awakened, no more faking So we push all our fears away”

The song is perfect by Saturday, and, after a couple more rehearsals on the day – I asked Ash half the day off – we head to Brianna Holly’s party. To say I’m nervous is the biggest understatement of the century.

“We’re going to smash this,” Charlie reassures me when he notices me tense up when we enter the Holly Mansion. “I promise you.” I offer him a half-hearted smile, not being able to manage more than that.

“Oh, you came…” Brianna’s witchy voice sends shivers down my spine, “How fun.” Anyone who doesn’t note the sarcasm in her voice is probably not the brightest. “And you brought some friends, I see.” Her tongue glides across her teeth as she eyes Charlie up and down.

“Emily! You came!” Another voice I’d rather not hear today. Jake joins by Brianna’s side, wrapping his arm around her waist. Not a second later, I feel Charlie do the exact same to me.

“They were just leaving again…” Brianna gives me a sharp look, wanting to scare me.

“Actually, no… We’re not,” I don’t know where the sudden burst of confidence comes from. It might be Charlie’s arm protectively around me. Or just having the boys behind me.

I look around the enormous living room and spot the instruments tucked in a corner of the room, waiting to be played. “Looks like no band showed up, Brianna. How sad…” I turn to the boys, “What do you say, boys?” All of them shoot me a grin or a nod before I turn back to Brianna.

“Say what?!” she orders, seemingly panicking slightly.

“You’ll see,” I say and start walking towards the small stage in the corner. The boys grab their spot, and so do I. I shake my nervous hands for a second, suddenly doubting my abilities and second-guessing my choices.

“You got this,” Charlie mouths to me, and all of a sudden, my fingers begin to play the notes on the keyboard.

“Hearts on fire We're no liars, so we say what we wanna say I'm awakened, no more faking So we push all our fears away”

I look over at Jeremy, who’s closest to me, and he smiles at me, encouraging me to go on.

“Don't know if I'll make it cause I'm falling under Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder”

I close my eyes for a second, letting myself get into the moment.

“I wanna fly Come alive Watch me shine”

I grab the microphone off the stand and join the boys in the middle of the stage, right between Jeremy and Charlie and grab the tambourine hanging from the microphone stand.

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long and now we're finally free”

The crowd at Brianna’s party gathers around the stage in curiosity. Some of them bopping their heads, some throwing their hands up. Brianna and Jake are at the back, staring at us in disbelief and maybe some jealousy.

“We're all bright now What a sight now Coming out like we're fireworks Marching on proud Turn it up loud Cause now we know what we're worth”

I place the microphone on the stand at the front, so I have one hand free to guide me through the song. Charlie then sings the pre-chorus along with me, neither of us able to keep our eyes off each other.

“We know we can make it We're not falling down under Close my eyes and feel my chest Beating like thunder”

I grab the microphone again and move to Jeremy to rock out with him a little.

“I wanna fly Come alive Watch me shine”

I wink at Owen before heading back to the mic stand for the chorus.

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long and now we're finally free”

I walk up to the edge of the stage to interact with some of the crowd.

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe Been so long and now we're finally free”

I lean over in Charlie’s direction as he’s walked closer to me already.

“I got a spark in me,

” I sing, and push the mic closer to him, so we’re sharing the mic.

“I got a spark in me,”

he echoes with a smile.

“And you're a part of me” “And you're a part of me” “Now 'til eternity” “Now 'til eternity” “Been so long and now we're finally free”

As I hit the high note, Jeremy and Charlie take the chorus again with me adlibbing in between.

“I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe” “Been so long and now we're finally free,”

I sing along before getting back to adlibbing.

“

I got a spark in me Hands up if you can see And you're a part of me Hands up if you're with me Now 'til eternity Hands up if you believe”

I move back to the keyboard now.

“Been so long and now we're finally free”

The boys stop playing their instruments as I play the last notes on the keyboard and singing the last notes of the song.

“Finally free, yeah...”

Charlie’s looking at me, that proud, puppy-like smile on his face and it gives me all the tingles. I almost forget we’re performing at a party in front of pretty much the entire school until a roaring applause sounds through the living room of the mansion. While Owen comes back from behind his drums, I join the other boys in the middle of the stage and once Owen’s there too, we take a bow. For a moment, we sulk in the attention, taking in the applause.

“That was amazing, you guys!” Jeremy shouts excitedly when we get off the stage with the sound of the people buzzing around us.

“Let’s get something to drink,” Charlie suggests when I’m stopped by a girl I know from school.

“Where did you get that outfit?!” she asks excitedly, taking the jacket between her fingers. That’s Tori, one of Brianna’s friends. She normally never talks to me.

“Should I get you something?” Charlie whispers in my ear with his hand on my lower back.

“Yeah, get me some punch, please?” he nods his head and then leaves with the boys. “I designed it, actually. A project with my uncle,” I tell her with a smile, reminded by the Sunday Uncle Mitch and I decided to have a crafty afternoon.

“It’s so pretty!” she squeals with a smile that nearly reaches her ears. “And who are those boys? They don’t go to our school right?” I shake my head.

“No, they go to a different school. I met them at the Music Store, where I work.” It feels weird talking to Tori, but a good weird. She’s so much nicer than Brianna, it makes me wonder why she’s friends with her anyway.

“They’re cute!” I smile, looking at my boys in the kitchen at the punch bowl.

“Yeah, they are.” I don’t notice Tori walking away and being replaced by someone else until I turn around and find Jake before me. “Oh, hey.” My smile fades quickly.

“Just wanted to tell you how amazing you were up there and that I’m happy you came to the party.” I nervously look back to where the boys are, hoping they’ll notice me, but their backs are turned towards me.

“Uhm, yeah… Thanks, Jake.”

“We used to be good together, didn’t we?” The question takes me aback a little.

“I mean, yeah, we

used

to…” I don’t know where this conversation is going, but I don’t like it for one second. This is giving me a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Can’t we go back to what we used to be?” He takes a step forward, and I take one back. Then his hands are on my waist, where they used to fit so perfectly back in the day. Then his lips are on mine and I’m trying my hardest to push him off me. Even turning my head away doesn’t help one bit. My sight blurs and then it’s black. Pitch black. Up until I feel several hands on me. One hand on my back, two hands on my shoulders and the ones on my waist disappear. Once my sight is back, I find Owen holding me tight and Jeremy was too until he sprung into action and tears Charlie off of Jake before he can punch my ex.

“You okay, Ems?” Owen asks, rubbing my back.

“Yeah,” I whisper, “Charlie?” I don’t think he hears me. He’s just staring at Jake and his buddies that have surrounded him, and he’s panting. “Charlie!” He seemingly snaps out of his thoughts and turns around slowly. The fire and hatred in his eyes quickly fade away when he sees me. He walks up to me and cups my face, his thumbs rubbing my cheeks. Only then I notice I’d been crying.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly.

“Yeah, I am…” I whisper, not entirely certain myself. Owen takes a step back as Charlie wraps me up in his arms and Jeremy joins by our side too. “Can we go, though?” I don’t even dare to look at Jake. He’s never been violent during our relationship and now he does this?

“Can we hang out at the store for a while?” I ask when we’re outside the mansion to head home. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

“Do you want some alone time with Charlie?” Jeremy asks, for once a sensible question.

“No, I want all of you guys with me.” He shoots me the happiest, most sympathetic smile he’s ever given me.

At the Music Store, Charlie puts me down on the armchair at the window, wrapping me up in a blanket. It has started to rain, the droplets pattering against the glass next to me, calming me down a little. Jeremy and Owen sit down on the floor in front of me whilst Charlie has squeezed into the chair with me, his arms wrapped around me.

“At least now all of you have met my ex-boyfriend,” I chuckle, but it doesn’t get the reaction I wanted to.

“And he nearly met Charlie’s fist,” Jeremy chimes in, but not with the same humoristic tone.

“Has he always been like that?” Owen questions, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“No, he’s never been violent with me or anything. I never thought he would…” I swallow the lump in my throat, thinking about what had just happened. “He actually broke up with me when…” I look up at Charlie to find some courage, “When my Uncle died a year ago. I hadn’t left my house in a long time, didn’t eat, didn’t play any music. And Jake just got sick of it… So he broke up with me.” Charlie presses me closer towards him and kisses me on the head whilst Owen rubs my knee comfortingly.

“I’m sorry you had to get through that, Emsie,” Jeremy says, “I know what it feels like to lose a family member close to you.” I offer him a sympathetic smile, but don’t push him to tell me anything.

“He’s a real jerk, isn’t he?” goes Owen, and it makes me chuckle a little.

“That’s an understatement.”

For the rest of the night, we sit like this at the window, chatting about life. Deep subjects, funny anecdotes, … I tell them about Uncle Robert when he was still alive, and I tell them about Uncle Mitch and our Sundays. I talk about my parents kicking me out. All while Charlie holds me close and peppers me with kisses. Even in terrible situations, these boys are still here by my side and I doubt they’ll be leaving any time soon.

Taglist: @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @hannahhistorian92​ @gingerxarmy​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @lovesanimals​  @thequirkybookaholic​ Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

[libsterslobsters]

What Is and What Should Never Be...

A Bucky Barnes/reader fanfic

Summary: Things between the reader and Bucky have never made sense. From the unlikeliness of them meeting to their strange powers, to their relationship surviving misunderstandings, separations, and most of all, Thanos, the odds are always against them, and yet things always sort them out. This time though, they face the biggest obstacle of their lives. Will this be what breaks them, or will they, yet again, pull through?

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of sex, no editor

Author's note: Guys, I am a fluffy bitch who happens to love characters with a tragic back story. My family has saved my life, so I had to give our favorite black lab puppy of a super soldier a happy ending.

************************************

It’s half past two when she finally convinces herself to do it. The other alternative is to lie in bed, staring at the ceiling for the next three hours until her alarm goes off. And… a quiet mutter in another language… Russian, she immediately realizes as her mind translates the nonsensical phrase… reminds her that she’s unlikely to have an opportunity in the weekend ahead to go out on her own without that wonderful, loving, over-protective husband of hers worrying or offering to go with her.

Slowly, she pushes back the sheets and climbs from the bed (a monumental task, since somehow, in his sleep, he always ends up touching her in some way; this time it’s an arm slung over her waist), padding softly towards the bathroom. It’s not ideal, pulling clothes out of the hamper to wear again, but she doesn’t want to risk opening the closet to dig around and the noise waking him, light sleeper that he is, so it’ll have to do.

The townhouse is familiar, so she doesn’t worry too much about stumbling in the dark, but still she clutches the stair railing harder than usual, more to calm herself than any real fear she will fall. She’s trying her best not to access that part of her mind, the one that grants her an unwanted view into the immediate future as, finally on the bottom floor, she shoves her keys into her purse and her feet into her shoes, then pulls open the door.

The city never sleeps, which is a mercy, because the porch light has already been turned off. There’s no reason for either of them to venture out again until morning. At least, that’s what he thinks. Her hands shake as she turns the key, bringing the car’s engine to life. If this goes the way she’s nearly certain it will, she’s going to have to trade it in for something bigger than it’s fuel-efficient two seat capacity.

It’s a familiar drive, and a short one. If the sun were out, she’d walk! But as it is, she parks three blocks down from where she lives and, taking a deep breath to hold back the panicked tears threatening to flow, steps out into the night.

The cashier is rubbing at his eyes wearily, and doesn’t so much as blink as she places her items on the counter to be scanned. Three boxes, because if she’s going to potentially risk upending her life, his life too, she’ll be damned if she’s not absolutely certain of her reason. She briefly wonders if she’ll even be capable of using all that she’s bought in one go, but dismisses the thought almost as soon as it appears. Well, it’s unlikely she’ll be getting any sleep tonight. That’s plenty of time to make damn sure of the result.

She’s not aware of anything as she drives back. Thank God everyone else seems to be watching themselves, or else she’d be in trouble. Well, she chuckles bitterly to herself, more trouble than she’s already potentially in. Again, the quiet dance of easing key into lock, of softly closing the door behind her and slipping out of her shoes. This time, she pads towards the downstairs bathroom. May as well get it over with.

As it turns out, if you pace yourself, you can indeed manage to use three of the tiny plastic sticks all at once. They’re all different brands, but the wait time is the same. She sets her watch to three minutes and, closing her eyes, tries to concentrate on anything but her visions of the future.

Instead, she focuses on the past. They met out of nowhere, while he was on the run and she was in hiding. That was the one time she was happy to be blessed with precognition; it allowed her to pull him around that street corner just before the man she didn’t know anything about other than a forboding sense that he was no good would have recognized the lost stranger with the metal arm.

That should have been the end of it. She saved him, and ran as fast as she could when he asked, “Who are you?” But he’s always been stubborn, this Winter Soldier, so of course he chased her down until she had nowhere to go (or rather, until her visions kicked in yet again and informed her that there was no way out; no matter where she ran, he was more than capable of finding her).

There were awkward introductions, a distasteful cup of tea he still claims is their first date, and the admission:

“I see the future. Little shards of it. And I never can control when I see it.”

Again, that should’ve been the end of it, but his response was,

“I’m nearly 100 years old, have super serum running through my veins, killed hundreds of people, and I have basically no memory of the past fifty years of my life.”

She should have run, but she didn’t. And how glad she is, no matter how this turns out, that she stayed.

There were so many times they should’ve fallen apart. When she told him, “This has to stop. I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but a good friend to me and you don’t deserve this, but somewhere along the line, I got my wires crossed, and I accidentally fell in love with you.” , there’s no logical explanation to him telling her, “Wait, I’m a little confused here. I thought we’d been dating for the past six months. And you thought… oh.” It shouldn’t have worked out, shouldn’t have led to both of them doing what they’d wanted to for so long: sharing a kiss, just an innocent peck to the lips, which for her, felt like taking her first breath.

He should have left her behind when Steve came for him, shouldn’t have insisted, “I’ll go, but I’ve got someone we’ve got to bring with us. Someone important.” Or she should have stayed, but the danger of what lay ahead didn’t seem like that big of a price to pay if she got to stay with the man she was beginning to suspect was the love of her life.

When he went to a small African country, she shouldn’t have insisted, “Of course I’m going with you! You didn’t leave me. What makes you think I’m going to leave you?” He shouldn’t have given in. They shouldn’t have weathered the long breaks between seeing each other while he was having his mind rewired and she was learning, learning about Wakanda and teaching so little by comparison about the language she speaks, or come out on the other side stronger. When the call came once again for the white wolf to return to battle, it made no sense for her to go too even with the years of training she had, or that as soon as they were settled on the helicarrier, he sighed and informed her, “I was planning on doing this at a nice dinner, but since we have no idea what we’re getting into, I thought I’d go ahead and ask.” pulling out a small box with a delicate ring inside, asking, “Marry me as soon as this is over.” Going into the unknown, she shouldn’t have said yes.

She shouldn’t have survived Thanos’ armies, the multiple injuries she sustained, the snap that followed, or as a last-ditch effort to save her life, the mad scientist’s cocktail, the one that turned an innocent boy who only wanted to serve his country into the Winter Soldier, being administered by Natasha’s shaking hands. He shouldn’t have been the one who turned to dust. When she woke up, one thought on her mind, “Where is Bucky?” her heart should have given out when Steve told her, anxiously holding her hand, “I’m so sorry. He’s gone.”

Five years later, she should’ve been past it, should have moved on. Not been there to answer the call when her phone lit up and an excited spy told her, “There’s a chance we can bring them back.” None of it should have worked- the time travel, Bruce snapping his fingers, them once again fighting Thanos. When it was all over, she should’ve been so broken, so changed, that when she saw him, her first words were not, “You came back to me.”

There should have been too much water under the bridge. They shouldn’t have been able to make it work, him relearning the woman he used to know because, “You kept it on.” “Of course I did.” It made no sense, and they were warned against going through with trading vows only six months after the world righted itself again. They shouldn’t have been able to work together, continue to “fight the bad guys” without growing to resent each other. The marriage should’ve ended within a year, not grown stronger, been full of loves and laughs, lazy morning sex and breakfast for dinner, until now.

Her watch starts beeping, and although she’s quick to silence the alarm, she wonders if he’s heard it. When no footsteps sound over her head a full ninety seconds later, she stand and examines the tests on the counter. Three different brands, three different options for telling her one simple answer. A plus sign. Two pink lines. One simple word: pregnant.

The tears finally do fall, and even though she reaches out to the gift, the curse, the future, it’s unclear. Well, she tells herself after burying the results in the box of tampons under the sink (unused for far too long) which she knows he’ll never look through, none of this should have worked so far, but it has. Maybe this will be yet another exception.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Sam’s jokes have stopped being funny, or maybe he’s just stopped paying attention. All Bucky knows is that he’s paying more attention to the clock across the room from him, or rather it’s hands than his partner. Finally, the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the five. He thinks he says something about getting home, the plan sounds great, they’ll talk more about it tomorrow, but he can’t be sure. He’s too busy trying to remember which streets are the least busy this time of day so that he can get home sooner.

She’s been off for the last week or so. There was the food poisoning (odd, because they’re both “super soldiers”, they don’t get sick, but she also doesn’t lie so that had to be what’s going on) Sunday morning, which didn’t seem to be much better on Monday, even if she still went in to work. “I’m fine. These people work so hard to learn English. The least I can do is show up and grade their papers.” He should’ve insisted she stay home, but that wouldn’t have done any good.

Tuesday, she was asleep on the couch when he arrived from work. Wednesday is when she started jumping when he entered a room, freezing when he touched her, and later that night when he tried to pull her closer to him in bed, her muscles tensed under his palm, even if she did settle against his chest. Thursday she was awake before he was and came to bed hours after he’d already turned in. This morning, she was out the door before he could so much as say goodbye, and after six days, enough is enough. He’s determined to figure out what’s going on with his wife.

She’s usually at the community college late, tutoring students after class, but to his surprise, as he steps inside their house, the lights are on, and what’s more, the smell of meat cooking and several spices mingling is in the air.

“Long day?”

She barely looks up as he steps into the kitchen, but does smile when he places a kiss on her forehead, so that’s something.

“It was alright. You?”

She shrugs. “I’m glad to be home, let’s put it that way.”

He wants to sit her down, take both of her hands in his, ask her what’s going on, but he doesn’t get the chance before she suggests,

“Why don’t you go up and get a shower? Dinner should be ready by the time you’re done.”

He is sweaty, he supposes, so he nods.

“Alright.”

Half a flight of stairs is behind him before he thinks to add, “Love you, Doll.” “Love you.” Small assurances, but he needs them. His mind is swirling with all of the worst possibilities he can think of. She’s dying. She’s leaving him. He’s done something to make her feel afraid or unwanted. No. She still loves him. He’s just paranoid.

He decides to use his time in the shower to come up with a plan. After they eat, he’ll take care of the dishes so she can relax. More than likely she’ll want to get a head start on grading papers, but since it’s the weekend, that’ll only last for half an hour or so before she decides that the rest can wait and Netflix is much more appealing. He’ll get the snacks ready (more than likely popcorn, but last week it was some sort of trail mix that included, of all things, parsley) and once they’re cuddled up, well into whatever mindless tv show they’re watching this time, he’ll press the issue.

A flash of orange catches his eye as he’s rinsing off. He calls out her name, thinking maybe she’s come upstairs for something, but there’s no reply. Paranoid again. He really needs to get to the bottom of this.

It doesn’t take him long to change into his weekend wear: sweatpants and an old tshirt, but as soon as he’s down the steps and into the kitchen once again, he wishes he’d put a little more effort in. Now he knows what the flash of orange was: the dress that always reminds him of summer. She’s changed clothes, taken her hair out of its “teacher” knot at the back of her head, and refreshed the makeup she could easily do without. Not only that, but-

“We’re eating in the dining room.” He thought those dishes looked a little nicer than paper plates.

The food is good. He’s certain of it, but he’s not tasting anything. Neither is she, he’s fairly certain, because she just picks at what’s on her plate. Neither of them say anything, on his part because he���s trying not to blurt out, “What’s wrong?” On hers… he’s not sure.

Finally, enough time has passed to warrant getting up. He starts to stand, but she grasps his hand.

“Wait. I-” She bites her lip. It’s brief, but it’s an obvious sign that she’s nervous, a tell that she’s never completely lost over the years. “Sit. I have something I need to do, and if you get up, I’ll talk myself out of it.” It’s all connected. He can feel it.

She’s only gone for thirty seconds (he’s counting to give himself something to do other than worry), and then she’s back, visibly trembling, with a small, white box in hand.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I thought-” She stops short and, a little hesitantly, offers the item to him before sitting. “-open it and hopefully you’ll get the gist.”

It’s the wrong shape for divorce papers, too small to hold anything else he can think of, and the yellow ribbon tied around it seems to suggest it’s not a bad thing.

“Okay.” He nods and, tugging gently at the ribbon, removes the lid.

It doesn’t make sense. A pair of white, soft leather shoes, so small they look like they should belong to a doll. Underneath, an equally doll-like white hat. And… oh. A silver rattle. He’s not stupid; he can figure out what this adds up to, but still, gazing into her eyes, he has to ask.

“Are you…?”

She nods, and although she immediately lifts her hand to wipe it away, a tear slides down her cheeks. “Yes.”

Suddenly it all makes sense. The odd behavior, the secrecy, the fear. They’ve never talked about having children, even taken precautions to make sure it doesn’t happen. In their line of work, with her extra abilities and their combined genetics with the serum, it doesn’t make sense to have a child. He’ll be a terrible father. He’s a murderer- no, he chides himself, a soldier forced to do things he regrets- and still, for all intents and purposes, in the service. He’s got so much baggage. Steve is the one who would be good (hell, was good, from what he’s gathered) with the wife, the family. But now that he knows, now that he’s aware that, between the two of them, they’ve created a new life, he’s never wanted anything more.

“We’re having a baby.” It’s not a question, but she nods, sniffling slightly.

“We are.”

He can’t wait anymore. She may still be afraid, unsure of what the outcome will be of this accidental miracle, but he has to at least assure her that through it all, he’ll be with her.

Carefully, he slides down from his chair to kneel beside her, and just as he was planning to do later tonight, takes both of her hands in his (well, one of them; the other is resting over where their baby, his baby, is growing).

“That’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard.”

The tears fall fresh from her eyes, but her smile is bright, a real one he hasn’t seen in the past six days, and as she leans down, he presses his lips against hers, ignoring the mistiness in his own eyes. None of this makes sense. It shouldn’t work, or even be possible. But it is.

[rkxjongsuk]

Final Post ||

I spent most of yesterday evening and this morning just kind of mentally processing the actual closing of rookies after seven years. Seeing the amazing plans that would have come to fruition makes me a bit sad but also kind of happy that rookies ended where it ended. Thank you to the mods for prolonged effort to keep this rp running as long as it did and I am glad to have been here as long as I was. 

I first joined rookies six years ago on the 15th of October, 2014. 2014 and subsequently 2015 had been a chaotic formative years for me. At the time, I was in my third year of college, constantly questioning whether or not I should be doing my degree, watching my parents get divorced in the summer of 2015 and moving out of the house where I’d lived for twelve years. Rookies (at first through Sungjong in October and then through Kevin in March (03.04.2015) and Kris in April (04.29.2015)} was a writing escape and somewhat of a comfort. Over the years at rookies, I have grown, graduated from college with a business degree and ended up completely a different person then I was five years ago.  

My writing improved a lot and I can confidently say that it was mostly thanks to Rookies. I had been completely scared off writing after an English teacher bitched at me for my skills but thanks to rookies, I got more confident in my own skills. Sure, there’s been other rps before rookies and at the same time as rookies, but they had never lasted quite as long. Through the years, I have made some incredible friends through rookies and I am glad to have them in my life. You guys are genuinely the best and I’ll always love you. I have no intentions of ghosting any of you and hopefully, we’ll write again together somewhere else. 

Now, onto what everyone actually wants: rkmuses future and taking in the ideas and everything set out by Bianca in account, where they would end up?

rkxjongsuk: the trc vocal king, easter bunny, princess diva of youtube fame - formerly rkkevin 

I know I always used to say that I wanted him to debut the most since he’s my oldest muse,  but in all honesty, he would have never fit in the idol bubble. Going off the ideas set out by Bianca, however, his future would have been pretty satisfying. 

He would have ended up staying in TRC (since he had signed his contract for the second time back in may) and debuting as part of the rkmonstax group with the other trc boys in early 2021 (most likely as their main vocalist). Jongsuk would have felt pretty accomplished by this, and had been ready for the idol life. However, he was not ready for the rules and restrictions that would come into play with the group.  

he’d always had a kind of laissez faire approach to everything and so the idol life is kind of shocking to him. it wasn’t what he’d fantasized it would be. so, jongsuk would probably become the first member to officially leave the group before their six-year contract would expire citing personal difficulties and mental health issues (three years and a bit after debut) 

During those three years with the group, however, he’d make a name for himself as the King of OST. He would have gone on to King of Masked Singer (making it to R2 and shocking everyone with the high note octaves), gone on to be one of the trainers on the Voice of Korea partnering with Dynamic Duo, and make multiple appearances on Immortal Songs (a la Kyuhyun). Simultaneously, he’d also be collabing with idols across companies, most notably fellow former mga 3 contestant Gyeoul of And*Roma and Jiyeon of HEARTZ. 

Upon his departure from the group, he moved back to San Francisco and resumed his Youtube life and career. He would still support the rest of the boys, as an international fan and would always buy up a lot of their cds to support and tell his followers to stream. However, being back in his element, Jongsuk would feel a lot more relaxed and a lot more comfortable. 

A few months after his return home, he’d gain a collaboration with Smashbox or Morphe for a makeup line and he’d release an eyeshadow palette, two lipsticks and three eyeliners with the branding Smashbox x Stark: Rave on Mad (an homage to his youtube name: starkravingmad). He’d most likely send it in packages to his best friends in Korea. Jongsuk would find success in other fields outside of music and delve into what made his channel tick and what made him the happiest.  

Eventually, I think, he would have found love (maybe in the form of another tall actor who was in school 2013 with him) and been a happy youtuber, taking constant new challenges all over the place and always stepping to his own beat. 

As for his friends, he would have definitely gone back to Korea for Kangjoon’s eventual wedding and Jiyeon’s eventual wedding as well. The invites to visit him in San Francisco, California would have been extended to all his friends and even in his busy schedule, he’d always find time to show them all around the city that he’d been born. He’d even always be happy to see his former groupmates if they came on tour to California and would always be the first one for the backstage/VIP passes. 

rkxrm: the kt chaebol, nsg’s main rapper and actor extraordinaire - formerly rkkris, rkkmh, minhyukxrk

namjoon had always been the unwilling debut, since I honestly never saw him actually debuting before jongsuk and instead, here we are. he’s the established idol. 

With NSG’s debut having just happened, he would probably stick around as the rapper before KT began shoving him into acting everywhere. Most likely, would have ended up as leader of another subunit (maybe?) in the future putting that leadership expertise to the good use. After the first two successful comebacks, he would have gone into acting officially with the first main role on a web-drama as Cha Gihyun on A-TEEN. 

His charisma would have definitely shined and stolen the screen time since he’s a former actor already. Following initial drama success, he would have tried his hand in modelling and endorsement, with Honda and Skool Looks. He would have gone further in modelling and acting, eventually becoming more known as the actor Kim Namjoon than the rapper of nsg. 

He would have had his share of crazy fans (mostly noonas, pretty girls and drama grandmas) and even probably taken the top bias spot for quite a few people when they would have found out his past. Of course, during the course of promotions (I envision this would happen during Regular-Irregular promotions), it come to light that he’s an actual chaebol (he’s never hidden it but netizens think this is a big deal) and the heir to Kim Securities with a former Canadian award winning actress as his mother. It also comes to light the dysfunctional family dynamic that he’d always had with them.  

It caused some hardship between him and his family but he had the support of nsg behind him (his ride or die brothers and family) but in the end his family did began treating him a lot better and he eventually gained their support. 

He would have stayed with NSG all through their first contract, but probably wouldn’t have renewed and most likely would have either gone to acting agency where he could focus on acting or go back to that chaebol life and actually fully embrace it as a future heir. 

In terms of his love life, he would have officially asked Jiyeon to date him at the Halloween party and they would starred in a few dramas side by side (Cinderella and the Four Knights being their first). They would kept secretly dating and eventually after their mutual dating ban was over, would probably reveal it in a cute couple shoot for Ceci or Dazed and Confused (like E Dawn and Hyuna). After Joon would have left NSG (post contract non renewal), he would have probably still kept acting and modelling alongside Jiyeon. NamYeon would have been a lot like the Rain/Kim Taehee acting and visual power couple. 

He would have definitely still kept in close touch with the rest of nsg (since they’re like brothers) and even with all his former kt friends, loving the time that he had spent in the company. 

rksxngyeol: nova’s artist, the mangaka 

sungyeol had been an incredibly refreshing muse to write. he’s always been someone who actually doesn’t want to debut and he just wants to draw. i initially got him because minhyuk (joon) and jongsuk were getting really exhausting.  

there’s not much to say about sungyeol’s future. his contract with nova would have expired in november and he would have left the company on his own terms with the two years behind him. he learned a lot during those two years at nova and even realized a lot about himself. 

following his contract expiry, he would have asked his boyfriend (myungsoo) to move in with him over christmas with a key in a box  attached to a black butler keychain. if the other said yes, then the new year would have kicked off with the duo moving and cooking together and spending time with each other. 

sungyeol would have resumed drawing manhwa and mangas, combining his webtoon comic into a more professional looking five volume manga series with the same title. eventually he would have gotten an anime deal again and even a live action deal on his works (if your muse would have wanted to be in the live action of the Princess’s Sword, go for it). That would have propelled his family to actually recognize him as a talent and he would have been reinstated into the family. 

This would have led to myungsoo officially meeting Sungyeol’s family. His parents would have loved him to bits and his grandparents would have been iffy on it, but  his grandmother would end up dying three years after of heart attack and his grandfather would have followed her a year later of old age. 

After having dated Myungsoo for about five years, Sungyeol would have proposed to him and they would have most likely gotten married on the beach while on vacation somewhere warm. (we love a happy ending ;.;)  Also, he would have moved into a bigger house and brought Haebin with them so that they could be a cute happy family. 

Eventually, he would have come back to work for Nova as a producer and creative direction artist under Wendy as CEO (if that would have happened), and if not, he would have taken over his family’s company despite the lack of education and simply learned on the job. (Can I say that he would have been Myungsoo’s sugar daddy at some point even though they would be married or engaged at this point???) 

Thank you for reading to the very end and I love you all. Let’s stay friends and meet again in another rp. 

[hyucksong]

to all the boys i’ve loved before; mark lee

Dear Mark,

     You know what Mark Lee? Fuck you. You’re a piece of shit and I should’ve known that you were a lying bitch when I saw you stare at that waitress for too long. I should’ve known that there was something you weren’t telling me because she looked at you like an old friend. But you insisted that you didn’t know her.

     Fuck you.

     I hope you can sleep with yourself at night knowing that you wasted my Senior year with fake love. I can’t believe I gave you my first kiss. I can’t believe we made out after prom. I can’t believe I snuck out of the house for someone like you. I can’t believe that you were the first person I actually dated. I can’t believe I told you I love you. 

     I hope the waitress-ex-girlfriend hybrid kisses better than her pancakes. I hope breaking my heart was worth it, Mark Lee. 

     Because it definitely doesn’t feel worth it on my part. I regret everything, Mark Lee. I hope your story ends with your kingdom falling apart. 

Dear Mark,

     Looking back, my anger was a little hypocritical. I knew better than anyone how love and denial made you do stupid things -- made you do things you regret or regret things you didn’t do. I get it.

     At the same time, it hurt. Maybe if I was a rebound that lasted only a few weeks, it’d hurt less. But you lied to me for a whole year. From August to May. You told me you loved me. You lied. 

     To be fair, I lied too. I told myself that Chenle was a thing of the past all throughout Junior year and that nothing was going to get in the way of my grades. Forget Chenle and Jisung, Haechan, Jaemin, or Jeno. That was supposed to last until graduation. Then in step you. The boy next door. Love of my Senior Year.

     But let’s be real. Forgetting someone and the love you held for them after five-plus years is impossible, we both know that. I may have been your rebound, but God knows you were probably just the same to me. I just never admitted it to myself. But kissing your ex at my graduation party wasn’t cool. Not at all. Even though we may have just been rebounds, I like to think we still meant a lot to each other. I mean, we kissed and stared into each other’s eyes. We held hands and sat in comfortable silence. We laughed at stupid things together -- hell, you met my parents. That’s got to mean something, right? 

     I hope it did. Because you’re an amazing guy; your giggly and timid persona, your quirky habits, your willingness to listen to me rant for hours on end, your insecurities and the way you shared them with me -- I hope none of that was fake. And remembering the way you couldn’t even lie to me for my surprise birthday party, I don’t doubt that at least those parts were real. Maybe if you weren’t so great, I’d actually hate you for cheating. But...there’s something about you that I just... can’t.

     Regardless of what I said in my last letter, I’ve never regretted dating you. Our fairytale was great while it lasted. I almost didn’t hear the clock strike twelve. But it struck.

     I hope you got your fairytale, though. I hope you found the girl that fits into your glass slipper. You’re an amazing guy, even with your flaws and mistakes. Just hope you didn’t lose a Cinderella for an evil step-sister on accident. 

Love, Y/n.

///a scene from the heart///

     Was this what you were missing out all those years of chasing boys who didn’t love you back? Were you missing the wind in your hair and the loud 90′s music blasting from a beat-down convertible? Because if so, you wished that Mark Lee would’ve appeared in your life earlier. 

     He was driving on the interstate, his hand on your thigh and your bags in the back of his trunk as you both rode your way to the beach for spring break. You had turned eighteen and he told you that “he wanted to make it the most memorable spring break of your life,” word for word. You’d rolled your eyes when he first said them, but with his cute laugh resounding around your ears, you knew he wasn’t lying.

    “Mark,” you rested your chin on the center console, where his right elbow was resting. He took his eyes from the empty road and look at you, his gaze pointing to your lips before trailing up to your eyes. “Yes, baby?” The car slowed down a little as his attention was placed on you, dropping back down to the speed limit. You licked your lips and thought about your words before biting your bottom lip and hiding your smile. Strawberry lip balm filled your taste buds, but you weren’t paying attention to that. His attention made your ears turn red. No one ever treated you the way he treated you.

     “I love you, Mark.” 

     Even the music seemed shocked at your words, the background vocals gasping as the boy’s eyes widened. His hands seemed to loose from the steering wheel before the car began to drift to the side. A curse fell from Mark’s pretty lips and he put both hands on the wheel to correct the position -- but after the chaos toned down and your statement went un-responded to, you felt tears well in the corner of your eyes.

     “S-Sorry,” You laughed, beginning to sit up. “What -- n-no! No! I-I, uh,” Mark stumbled through his words but placed his hand back on your bare thigh. “Y/n, baby,” He tore his eyes from the road, again, “I love you, too. A lot, actually.”

     He seemed to notice the insecurity drifting in your eyes because then he placed his soft lips on yours. Even though it was probably against the law, his lips molded with yours for a solid second as you both tore through the intestate roads at 90 mph. He looked away the second he pulled from you, his red cheeks facing the road again. 

     You laughed, biting your cheek as your intertwined your fingers with his for the rest of the trip. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d make this spring break the most memorable one of your life. 

///a scene from a broken heart///

     The scene in front of your eyes was surreal. It was entrancing. The way the moonlight lit the background with a beautiful silver shimmer and the trees swayed like lovers in a dance. The way his arms held her face like she was the Hope Diamond, and he the thief. How she pulled him in so close that you could feel his heartbeat drum in tune with hers. 

     It would be even more entrancing if he weren’t Mark Lee and she wasn’t the waitress that served you cold pancakes at IHOP yesterday. You didn’t know what to feel. His lips were smeared with an annoying red as his hand moved from her face to her waist. You almost forgot it was your graduation party with the show going on in front of you. 

     I mean, if you were going to cheat, couldn’t you at least not do it in front of the chocolate fountain? 

     Chenle walked up to you with a smile on his face, his arms spread for a hug when he noticed your grip crushing the red solo cup you held. His gaze followed yours and his heart stopped. Oh. 

     “Screw Mark Lee.” You seethed, tears slipped furiously past your waterline, down your chin. “Screw Mark Lee.” You said a little louder. Chenle’s hand came to rest on your forearm before trailing down to your hand, trying to calm you down. “I knew he wasn’t good for you,” He muttered, giving the side-eye to the cheating boy. You paid no attention to the venom laced in his tone because your body shook too fervently with emotions you couldn’t recognize. Guilt? Sadness? Regret? Hatred? Relief?

     Understanding? 

     “Y/n, come on, let’s go. I’ll call Jisung and we can all spend the night at my house like the old times. Don’t pay attention to that asshole. I don’t know what happened between you and Jisung, but I’m sure that he won’t ignore you when you’re like this --”

     “I don’t want to.” Chenle’s grip fell, and his throat dried. “W-What, why?” His question was met with an eerie silence and more tears. 

     “Screw Mark Lee.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Y/n, please--” He pulled you in, but the warmth from his arm did nothing but make you angrier. 

     “FUCK YOU, MARK LEE!” You shouted, throwing your drink down and ignoring the cold splash against your bare leg. Mark’s eyes snapped open and towards the noise, freezing when he saw you. It was like seeing a deer in headlights. The waitress he was kissing looked at you too, apologetically, before leaning over to whisper something in the frozen boy’s ear and walking down your driveway to the familiar beat down convertible. 

     You let the staring contest continue with Mark before you started sobbing, snot and tears falling from your face as Chenle dragged you away and towards his car. People were staring and whispering, and you passed familiar faces like Jeno and Haechan (that you didn’t remember inviting) as you kicked and screamed, yelling about how you regretted spending the last year of your life with a cheating prick. 

     Mark didn’t move an inch from his spot as Chenle drove you away, a concerned hand rubbing your knee. Your sobs didn’t stop either. Your heart didn’t stop hurting until weeks later, but in a strange way, you were relieved. In a strange way, you understood. In a strange way, you were the same. Because the way your heart drummed as Chenle held you that night in a means to comfort you told you how things weren’t going to last with your Senior love.

     Everything came crashing down. All your walls, all your barriers. Every wall you built up with Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, Jisung, and Chenle crumbled around you as Chenle whispered words in your ear and you cried into your pillow. As much as it hurt, and would hurt for a while, that last heartbreak cleared your slate. All the tears you’d been holding for years came and went. 

     It was a new beginning as the sun dawned on your fallen kingdom. It was time to start anew. 

///

masterlist

[starkerfortwo]

OKAY im sorry thi sis late to be posted but I’m really busy at the moment. These prompts are for @swankyspankyhankypanky panky i tried reallyhard to come up wih a good story line for you! Happy valentines day! @starker-valentines

So I know this isn't exactly the original prompts, but I'm a bad writer and before I knew I had written this, I'd already done it, so I'm very sorry, hope you enjoy this though!!! Prompt 2

Tones Hey sweets, I'm picking you up at 7, be ready!

Peter Oof, wish I could, but I'm at the library with Ned and MJ studying for midterms. I'm free at nine tho

Tony sighed and switched his car onto automatic.

Tony Really? Okay, I'll pick you up at nine outside the library, where'd you wanna go?

Peter sure and hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm maybe Delmars? Pretty pretty please with sugar on top

Tony How can I say no to you? If you want to then sure, but if that cat bites me one more time

Peter You'll do what? Go all IronMan on a cat's ass? Pshhhh okay, now stop distracting me I rly have to study

Tony But bothering you is so so so so fun. But if you insist. I love yoy

You*

Peter I love yoy too Tony. Yoy, im dead

Peter laughed at his phone and slid it back into his pocket. "Did Tony say something hot?" Peter looked at Ned with a disgusted face "Ned, gross dude. And no he just made a typo" MJ rolled her eyes "You two are gross, but It's kinda cute so I feel you" Peter smiled and picked up a textbook. "So, what's the sweetest thing Tonys done?" Flash asked hooking his arm around Liz's shoulders. "Sweetest? I don't know man, on our first date he serenaded me with a song" "That's not sweet. Come on! What was the thing that you couldn't stop smiling about for weeks afterward?" Ned asked leaning forwards.  "Well, our first time do-" "STOP" Flash shouted covering his ears as Peter chuckled to himself.

Peter Pls save me, they're all asking me about our love life. It's excruciating

Tony Want me to come and blow them away with my awesomeness?

Peter Yes please, I managed to shut them up by talking about our sex life but Ned seems to be plotting his next question.

Tony I'm parking the car

Peter looked up to the door and smiled at the sight of Tony Stark walking in. "I believe people were talking about me" He smiled sitting down on the chair next to Peter. "Hey, Mr. Stark," Ned said flashing him 'Please accept me for an internship' smile. "Relax, Ned, I shouldn't tell you this but you got the Internship" Ned let out a scream and was quickly hushed by the librarian "So, Mr. Stark, what do you think is the sweetest thing you ever did for Peter?" Flash asked returning his hand to Liz. "Hmm, I think It would be the night that Peter called me Tony for the first time"

2 YEARS EARLIER

"Mr. Stark I'm a big boy I don't need you to keep on saving me from fights," Peter said in protest, landing on a rooftop in downtown New York. "You're a baby, and that wasn't a fight, that was an attack that was specifically planned to target you" Peter tensed his face up "You could've taken those guys on so why can't I?" Peter argued ripping off his mask and letting the brown curls fly around his face. "Because I'm more experienced than you and I have an iron suit. Yours is... spandex" Tony pointed out stepping out of his suit and onto the ground as Peter took a step back. "You helped me create this suit so technically It's not my fault that I don't have a stronger suit. And that's not what you said when I fought Captain America" "I've said this before and I'll say this again, if Cap wanted to take you down, he would've" "Yes but he didn't. Can you just accept the fact that I might be more mature than you think? Why won't you let me fight the bad guys? I took on Thanos when we were stuck on Titan!" Tony scrunched his face up "Because Peter, I can't lose you again! I watched you die in my arms and I was waiting for the time that I would go and help save you in any other fucking world that you had gone to, but I didn't! I couldn't save you Kid, I never want to lose you again, you mean to much to me!" Peter stared at Tony. "I'm sorry, I am, you just, you need to let me do this stuff okay? If I'm really in danger, Karen will let you know" Tony didn't say anything just embraced Peter in a hug "Don't die, kid, please don't. I can't lose you too" "I won't Tony"

"That wasn't something sweet that you did, that was just a sweet moment between us" Peter scoffed turning to Tony. "I saved your life! I think that counts as being sweet" Tony argued turning his head. "Okay then, Peter, what was the sweetest thing you did for Tony?" MJ asked, suddenly intrigued in their love lives. "Oh, for sure the time that Tony said 'I love you peter Paker' for the first time"

A year earlier.

"Wassup Tony," Peter said sliding on the hard wooden floor in his pink fluffy socks. "Morning Peter, why are you in such a good mood?" Tony asked pouring himself a cup of coffee "Well if you must know, I have a date" Tony's heart dropped to his ass, figuratively but still, as peter announced he had a date. "Cool cool, who with?" Peter smiled "Quinten Beck, I met him on Tinder and he's hot as hell!" Tony covered up his disappointment with a smile. "I'm happy for you kid, I'm going down to the lab"

three hours later.

"FRIDAY has Peter returned from the date?" Tony asked attaching a string to a door and slamming it shut making a crate fall "No, he never left the tower, he is sobbing on the couch upstairs" Tony paused "He's what?" He asked again unsure if he heard her right "Sobbing upstairs" Tony left the crate and rushed upstairs. "Peter? Peter, what's wrong?" Tony asked trying to console the hyperventilation young adult on his couch. "Beck canceled the date, he told me that I was ugly and too nerdy" Peter sobbed, resting his head in the crook of Tony's neck. "When I find that lil bitch" Tony whispered. "Why am I not good enough? Is there something wrong with me? Why does no one like me?!" Peter shouted sobbing harder. "Oh Peter, you're good enough and everyone is crazy to not see that, you're perfect peter" Tony whispered, "Then why does no one like me?" He cried out "They do" "Who Tony! Who likes me?! I'm just some ugly person" Peter screamed coming up for some air "Me Peter! I like you. No actually. I love you, Peter Parker. I always have and I always will"

"That was sweet, but that wasn't something you did for Tony" Nd pointed out, yawning in his seat whilst Betty rested her head on him. "Yeah I guess it was, I don't know actually, either I'm a shit boyfriend or Tony just doesn't tell me when I'm sweet" Tony laughed and pecked Peter's cheek. "I know what one of the sweetest things peter ever did was."

one month earlier.

"TONY!" Peter screeched from the lab. "BOI IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS VERRY FUCKING SECOND I WILL END OUR RELATIONSHIP!" Tony raced down the stairs and into the lab where he was met by Peter standing over an Iron Man suit "Yes my love? Something wrong?" Peter's eyes went soft at the sight of Tony's sleepless eyes and dropped shoulders. "Baby, when was the last time you slept?" Peter asked moving slowly towards Tony. "Like, seventy-two hours ago" Peter sighed and took the white blanket off of his shoulders and wrapped it around Tony's shoulders. "Come on, let's go to bed" Tony sulked and let Peter lift him off of his feet and carry him upstairs. "You know what's not fair" Tony yawned "What?" "The fact that you're younger and smaller than me, yet so much stronger than me" Peter laughed "Blame the radioactive spider for that one" Tony chuckled and felt his body sink into the memory foam mattress "I don't want to sleep" Tony sighed sleepily barely able to keep his eyes open. "Why?" Peter asked wrapping his arms around Tony "Because every time I close my eyes I see you slipping away in my arms. I can't keep reliving that Peter" Tony cried pulling Peter down to his eyesight. "Tony, hey Tony, look at me." Tony brought his eyes up to look at Peter. "I'm not leaving. I'm never leaving. You are my home, I love you and I always will. You're not going to lose me again. We won. He's dead." Tony sobbed quietly "I love you" He whispered falling asleep. "I love you too" Peter whispered back.

"Yeah, I have to admit that was pretty sweet of me to do" Peter laughed resting his head on Tony's lap. "It was, so tell me, what midterm do you all have first?" Tony asked gently caressing Peter's hair. "Peter has Law then Bioengineering. I have Law and physics, MJ has human relations, Liz has technology, and Flash has English Lit" Ned explained yawning gently. "That sucks for all of you." Tony laughed "Hey if we leave now we can still make our reservation" Peter whispered looking up at Tony. "You sure?" Peter nodded and looked up. "I hate to cut this short, but me and Tony-" "Tony and I" "Yes, thank you MJ, have a dinner reservation to attend, so we will be fucking off and I won't see you for the rest of this night" Tony smiled as Peter grabbed his hand and ran out the door. "I love you" Tony whispered "I love you too Tony" Peters's lips met Tonys in a sweet sensual kiss. "Come on, let's go"

Prompt 1

"Good morning handsome" Tony smiled as Peter rubbed his eyes. "Mornin' what time is it?" "The time is currently twelve minutes past nine in the morning" Peter rolled his eyes and slumped his head back on the pillow but evidentially rolling over and burying his face in the crook of Tony's neck. "I'm tired." He whined, feeling Tony's arms wrap around him. "I know, but, guess what" Peter looked up at his boyfriend "You're taking me out of college and whisking me away to a holiday in LA?" Tony smiled and kissed the tip of Peter's nose. "Nope, but I am taking you training today" Peter groaned again "In what universe is training better than a holiday" Peter deadpanned sitting up straight and pulling one of Tonys AC/DC shirts over his head "My universe. Hurry up, Peppers gonna be here in five" Peter whined for the fifth time in the time-space of an hour and sulked his way over to the chest of drawers currently holding all of his things. Since Peter and Tony had started dating, Peter had been slowly moving objects from his room into Tonys. A couple of CD's stacked up on the desk, along with some chemistry books, and some clothes. So far they hadn't been caught. Plus, they only had three months until Peter's twenty-first birthday when they could finally announce that they had been dating.  They just needed to keep it a secret for now. "Hey, I love you" Tony smiled lifting peters head up by his chin and kissing his softly "I love you too. I'm gonna shower though because I smell" Tony laughed "Yeah, you do" They stayed there for a moment, staring at each other and smiling. "Tony! You need to sign off- oh hi Peter" Both men separated quickly trying to cover it up by Tony fakely handing Peter a biology book on cells and reproduction. "Um hi Miss Potts I was just getting a book from To- Mr. Stark" Pepper smiled fondly "That's okay Peter." Peter smiled meekly at Tony and Pepper as he slipped out the bedroom door. "Fuck" He breathed out.

Peter dodged a punch and swung from one corned to the other. "Come on, babe, you can do better than this" Peter panted and landed on the floor next to him "Nope, I'm out" Tony smiled and pulled this small boyfriend up. "Come on, one more round and we can relax." Peter pulled himself together and nodded. "Okay, I can do this," He said dodging a kick and other suits that came flying past him. "One more!" Tony said cheering him on from the sidelines, "Fuck, Tony I can't do this" "There's no such word as can't" Peter smirked t himself "Nope, but there is a word called cannot and I cannot do this" H said turning his back as Tony shit down te simulation. "What's going on? You're usually so much better than this" Tony asked as peter layed his head on his lap. "I don't know, I've been in a funk ever since we lost the Titan battle" Tony frowned. "I'm never letting you go okay? I love you, Peter Parker. I love you so much. And that shit that happened with Thanos was not your fault. You were fifteen kid and were already conquering so much that I couldn't even do at fifteen. Don't beat yourself up because of one mistake" Tony leaned down and kissed peter's lips passionately. "I love you too Tones, and guess what day tomorrow is. Valentine's day" Tony rolled his eyes "Ugh, don't remind me" Peter laughed "Ill remind you in my way" Tony raised an eyebrow "Kinky" "That's not what I meant and you know it"

"Mr. Parker, you have a meeting in five minutes downstairs" FRIDAY chirped from the speakers in the kitchen. "SHIT! FRIDAY can you remind me when to take the cookies out of the oven?" He heard no response but figured that FRIDAY heard him. Peter raced over to his bedroom and pulled on one of Tonys' old AC/DC shirts and a pair of ripped skinny jeans before jogging down to the meeting room. "Good morning Mr. Parker, so nice of you to join us" Tony smiled sarcastically swiveling around in his chair. "Uh sorry, I was baking" He replied Shiley taking a seat next to Tony. "Baking?" Tony whispered moving his chair closer to Peter's "Yep, made some peanut butter cookies" He smiled. "Damn, get you a man that can cook" They both laughed a little before turning their attention to the man presenting as he 'cleared his throat' "Something funny?" The man asked, obviously tired of having to stop his presentation. "Nope, just laughing about the world" The man rolled his eyes at Tony and continued presenting his slideshow on 'Why Peter Parker should not take over SI' which wasn't the name but Peter thought that it might as well be the name since he was droning on about how someone with a manufacturing and technology background would be more suitable. But still, peter being peter he just sat quietly and held Tony's hand underneath the steel table. "Pete, you okay?" Tony asked quietly looking at the boy "Yeah, I'm just focusing on how many ways I could walk out the room right now" Tony laughed "Don't even walk, just jump out the window and let the suit catch you" Peter burst into laughter and fell on the ground wheezing. "What the fuck is so funny Mr. Parker? This is a serious meeting" Peter laughed as he stood up and regained his posture and self-control. "Nothing nothing, just thinking about a vine" He chuckled sitting down in his seat again. "What vine?" Tony asked playing along with the Vine story. "Is that a chicken?" He quoted not even missing a beat. "Kyle Jenner please report to the foyer," Tony said finishing off the stat pf the vine. The man presenting looked unamused and closed down the PowerPoint. "When you two can stop behaving like children we will come back," He said walking with his men out of the room. "Think we broke him?" Peter laughed spinning in his chair. "Nope, but you're gonna break your back is you don't stop spinning on this chair" Peter giggled and continued to spin on his chair until the chair gave way and he fell on Tony "Hi" He grinned dopey "Hi, think you can-" Tony was cut off by the man walking into the room again causing both men to jump and Peter to fall on the floor with an "Ouch" Along with Tony. "Never mind" Tony watched as the guy left and turned his head to look at Peter. "You okay?" He asked helping Peter stand up and regain his balance and confidence "Mhmm, are you okay?" Tony laughed at Peters's kindness. "I'm not the one that just fell off of a chair and hit my head on the floor" Peter smiled and rested his head on Tony's shoulder as Tony helped him into the elevator.

An hour had passed and the two lovebirds were sat on the couch eating Peters cookies and watching 'Burlesque' on Netflix. "I'm tired." Peter sighed wrapping a blanket around his cold body "If you wanna go to bed by all means go, I just wanna know if Jack and Ali will start dating" Tony smiled ruffling Peters's hair, "They do, now will you please come to bed with me?" Tony gasped "You just spoiled the movie" Peter rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, come on just cuddle with me" Tony pulled peter towards him on the couch "I don't wanna" "Stop being a child Tony" "I'm not being a child" "Yeah? Then come to bed" "No" "Come to bed, Tony." "No" Tony, come to b-" Once again, they were interrupted by Natasha walking and Peter rolling off the couch. "Sup, what are we watching," She asked grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoveling it into her mouth. "Nothing, I'm gonna go to sleep. Night" Peter gave a 'Bed now' look to Tony who acted like he didn't see it and carried on watching the film. "Child" He muttered under his breath.

Peter sighed as he pulled on a pair of pajamas and slipped under the blue silk sheets of Tony's bed. "It's so cold, FRIDAY turn the heating up" and just like that Peter felt as if he was in Spain, relaxing on a beach and letting off steam. That was until he felt a dip in the bed and muscular arms cover his body and held him tight. "Let's go" Peter turned around. "What do you mean?" He questioned rubbing his eyes "You said you wanted to go to Spain right? Then let's go, let's spend Valentine's day in Spain" Peter smiled and hooked his arms around Tony. "Okay. I'm down for that. when are we going?" "Right now, get some clothes on, we'll buy whatever we need when we get there" Peter squealed and jumped out of the bed grabbing some jeans and sliding himself into them. "You're not getting changed?" He questioned looking at Tony. "I already am" Peter rolled his eyes as Tony flipped away the covers to reveal a fully tailored suit on him. "When did you have the tine to get fully charged? A second ago you were in a tank and sweat pants" "I have my ways. May i just say, you look ravishing" Peter blushed "I'm wearing an oversized shirt and Khakis, how is that ravishing" "Because it's my shirt that you're wearing" Peter rolled his eyes. "You're incredibly predictable Mr. Stark" Tony scoffed "No I'm not, you don't know what I'm going to do now" "Yes I do, you're going to pick me up and run with me in your arms to the helipad" Tony paused fr a minute "No I'm not." "Then what are you gonna do?" "I'm going to pick you up, and run with ou in my arms into the living room" Peter sighed "Wow, big difference" Tony smiled and grabbed Peter before running down the corridor. "Oh my god, Tony! Peter squealed "Put me down! Put me down!" Tony laughed and placed Peters feet on the floor kissing his 'Button nose' as Tony liked to describe it "I hate you" Tony shook his head "No you don't, you love me" "Unfortunately yes, yes I do, and it's a shame because I can never get mad at you" Peter smiled and kissed Tony passionately. "Don't eat each other's fucking faces" Both of them jumped to see the room filled with the avengers and Rhodey. "Uh, we can explain" Peter sighed pulling away from Tony/ "We can? " Tony questioned. "No, I'm out." Rhodey sighed. "I told you they were dating." "You knew?" Tony asked, shocked and in disbelief, thst they're amazing (Terrible ) attempts of covering up their relationship didn't work. "We all knew, you two cant keep a secret for your life." Tony scoffed at Natasha "Yes I can, I kept being Iron Man a secret" Peter scoffed this time. "No you didn't, Rodey and Pepper organized an entire speech on what you should say so you wouldn't reveal that you were IronMan and you still got up on that stage and said 'I am Iron Man' " Tony ignored the comment and looked at the group. "Yes, I and Peter are dating, but as of this moment we are going to Spaun to celebrate our first Valentine's day together" Tony picked Peter up and in a squeal, they were both gone from the eyesight of the other. "Damn, they're cute you've got to admit," Bruce said from the back. "They are, also who said they were eating each other's faces. Because Props to you" Rhodey smiled at Pepper. "All me, the look on their faces were priceless, I wish I had taken a photo" "I have taken a video of the moment and sent it to all of your phones" FRIDAY spoke chirpily, she wasn't a human, but goddamn could she sense when people liked her.

[winchest09]

Shatter Me - Chapter One

Title: Shatter Me

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3710

Summary: The Winchesters were your world. After joining their hunter ranks, you quickly became attached to the brothers. After a successful hunt, you insist on going out celebrating with the boys – only for a loose end to catch up with you. You’re trapped in a world without hunger, thirst and the Winchesters. With the brothers beside themselves, they make preparations to say goodbye until Dean starts to connect to you through his dreams. Little do they know that you’re much closer than they think…

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of alcohol, mentions of smut, language, bit o fluff, slow burn, angst

A/N: Ok guys, here it is - Chapter One of my first ever SPN fanfiction! I’ve had to split this chapter into two as it was around 9,000 words (oops) If you are reading this, thank you so much for giving me a moment of your time! It is a bit of a slow burn (ish) but I hope you will enjoy it! 

Also any mistakes are my own, please do not repost my work anywhere however reblogs are fine and welcome :) 

Shatter Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter One

With a slam of the Impalas trunk, it was the sure satisfying sound that this hunt was over. You looked to the side of you to see Dean with a smug smile on his face. It wasn’t a simple case by any means, but it was a case with witches which always provided a bit of a challenge. Dean looked at you and winked to which you rolled your eyes. You had been with the Winchesters for just over a year, coming together when you were both hunting a pack of werewolves and you managed to save the brothers from an ambush. 

You only agreed to join them on a couple of more hunts as you enjoyed flying solo, but the boys had their convincing ways. Sam was impressed with your researching expertise and your way around a laptop and Dean, well Dean was impressed with how you carried yourself. No fuss, no drama, just a lady who knows her way around weaponry and monster lore. When the day came where you were going to part ways, the boys drew up and pretty convincing list of why you should stay with them. So here you are, a year later and about to hop in the back of Dean’s Impala to head home with the brothers who you considered family.

You walked to the drivers’ side of the car, your hand resting on the sleek silver passenger door handle as you looked towards the town. Sure, you could hop into the car and do the twelve hour journey back to the bunker but you were feeling the buzz, the adrenaline from the hunt. You didn’t want to waste it sitting in the back seat, annoying Dean as he was driving and asking Sammy a thousand questions to test his lore knowledge. No, you wanted to drink, dance, sing terrible karaoke and maybe even get laid.

Dean noticed your hesitance as he opened the driver’s door “You alright sweetheart?” He questioned, the term of endearment towards you making you smile.

“I’m fine De, but…” You hesitated and looked past him again, towards the town “I’m just not ready to go home yet. Let’s go to a bar, celebrate, we did good today” You suggested, earning a slight chuckle from Dean. He looked over towards Sam who was leaning against the passenger door frame, looking your way.

“What you reckon Sammy? Whisky, Women and a fine motel room?” Dean grinned, swinging his car keys around his finger.

Sam smiled and nodded “Sure, why not, we could use a break”

You jumped on the spot excitedly before getting into the back of the impala, it had been a while since your last bar crawl. Sure, you weren’t planning on getting absolutely wasted but you wanted to let your hair down and have some fun. You heard the roar of the impala and leaned back into your seat, fingers playing with your hair. Tonight would be a good night.

You caught Dean’s eye in the rear view mirror and saw the gentle creases of his eyes as he smiled warmly at you. Your stomach flipped. In secret, you loved those little glances he gave you, the way his voice sounded when he called you sweetheart, the way he had grown to become protective over you on hunts. You always carried yourself as this strong, independent, knowledgeable woman but the hunter life was lonely and Dean…well Dean just got you. He was the one man that you didn’t have to be strong around but, you wouldn’t let him know that, his head was big enough without you inflating his ego even more.

Yes, you liked Dean Winchester but you know that he would never like you back. You were his best friend, his little sister and you had become comfortable with the fact you were friend zoned a long time ago. That didn’t mean that you don’t still crave his attention, the little touches and in jokes you had between you. You knew tonight you were going to make just that little extra effort just to earn a double glance, it was like a drug you craved, something that kept you going day to day. Then when it comes to the evening and inevitably, you watch Dean go home with some busty toned woman, you’d strap on your armour and find yourself a distraction from your Dean addiction. A mediocre night with a random stranger who would give you an alright orgasm and then leave to go about his business.

You scoffed under your breath at the thought, stretching a little in the backseat as the impala pulled up in the motel parking lot. Maybe tonight would be a little different, maybe Dean would glance your way for a change, maybe there would be no toned busty beauties that would hold his attention. Maybe, just maybe you’d admit your feelings towards the eldest brother. You looked at your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers at the thought. Like hell that would ever happen.

Your thought process was broken by Sam opening the Impala door “I’ll go grab us some rooms” he announced, a spring in his step as he approached the motel reception. It’s nice to see Sam let off some steam once in a while. He was mostly all work and no play so when nights like this happened, you were always determined to ensure Sam had a good time.

You leant forward, arms leaning on the bench seat in front of you before ruffling the back of Dean’s hair, earning you a slight scowl from the green eyed Winchester. You chuckled, a smile playing on your lips as you watched his half ditched attempt to sort out his hair. What you wouldn’t give to be able to run your fingers through that hair every night, tugging it slightly as he came down onto you. You took a deep breath and willed the thought away, this man was far too perfect for you to be under, at any given time.

You looked back to Dean, who was still attempting to get his hair back in the perfect position and you nudged him gently “So, you gonna be on the prowl for ladies tonight Winchester?” Why, you thought. Why do you do this to yourself every single time? It’s like you enjoy torturing yourself over the things you couldn’t have. But you couldn’t help it, you had to ask these questions, hoping that maybe one day, he would surprise you with his answer.

Dean stopped looking in his rear view mirror and turned to look at you “Who knows, maybe. Play your cards right sweetheart, it could be you I’ll be coming back with” He winked, a small smile playing on his lips as his eyes scanned your face.

You grinned and looked down, doing anything you could to prevent the heat from blushing your cheeks. He made the same joke every time. Same old Dean, same old answer, same old blush.

“Oh honey, do you ever get bored of giving me that answer? You know I’d break you” you winked back. Two could play at this game and you wanted to wipe that shit eating grin off his face.

“Not if I broke you first” He replied, his grin getting wider as his eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

You couldn’t help but snigger at his actions all the while squeezing your thighs together to prevent the arousal that was beginning to pool between your legs. The thoughts flowing through your mind weren’t exactly helping. The thought of Dean fucking you into the mattress until you couldn’t walk straight, the idea of him pinning you up against a motel wall and ripping off your underwear only to feel his three day old stubble grazing your thighs…yeah…not helping.

“…and how would that go exactly?” You countered, your voice wavering only slightly not wanting him to catch on to the effect he was having on you.

Dean smiled and pulled his bottom lip through his teeth and he looked away, chuckling. There wasn’t many a time where Dean wouldn’t come back with some sort of smutty remark so you considered this a victory. You smiled wider as you leant back into your seat, the flirting was nothing new. Hell, you and Dean did it all the time. Sam had more than once mentioned that Dean had met his match and he had no idea who had the dirtier mind.

The impala door opening brought you from your thoughts and you smiled as Sam ducked his head down just through the frame “There is only one room left for tonight but it has two queen beds and a sofa bed”

Sharing a room with the boys wasn’t nothing new, it had happened on more than one occasion. All of you rotating around so you share the comfort of the beds and the un-comfy sofa bed equally. You grabbed your duffel from the side of you, exited the Impala and walked around to Sam who held the key in his hand.

“Well...dibs on the first shower!” You declared, snatching the key from Sam’s hand before bolting towards the motel door.

“Son of a bitch Sammy!” Dean shouted “Grab the bags” He declared as he jumped out from behind the steering wheel and started running after you.

Looking over your shoulder you giggled as you saw Dean making chase. Childish as it was, this happened near enough every time you stayed at a motel. It was a race for the first shower and if you were honest, you weren’t much for getting into the shower after two grown men had done god knows what under the hot pressured spray. Oh yeah, you’ve been in that situation before. Hearing rugged hushed moans through the bathroom door as you waited for your turn to wash off the monster guts, only to be greeted with an orgasm glowing doe eyed Dean when the door swung open. Now as nice as the image of naked Dean jacking off in the shower was, it wasn’t with you or on you so going into the shower which had been the scene of his one handed show, made you feel a little uncomfortable. Who knew if he’d washed it all away this time? What if he missed a bit and you stood on it? The thought made you shudder.

You reached the door and desperately tried to get the key in the hole, stifling laughter as you did so. Your heart was thumping in your chest as you saw Dean in your peripheral vision catching up to you. You were just about to turn the key in the lock when Dean’s body was pinned up against your back, holding you up against the door. His arms reaching for yours as he pulled you backwards laughing as you screamed and kicked your legs out. You managed to wriggle one arm free and turned to grab hold of Dean’s ear, pinching it ever so slightly making him lean to one side “Ahh dammit Y/N!”

You laughed as you saw him squirm enough to let go of your other hand so you took your chance to get him into a headlock, only to have Deans arms circle around your middle and under your legs, lifting you into a bridal position with no effort what so ever. A squeal left your lips and you started to wriggle, making it impossible for Dean to keep his hold of you. You looked to your left to see Sam squaring in on the door with the bags in hand and you knew you couldn’t let either of them win this war.

You wriggled free of Dean’s grasp just as Sam opened the lock and you ran as fast as you could towards the youngest brother. Just as Sam opened the door you were through but his large hands caught your wrist “C’mon Sammy, let me go and I promise I’ll support whatever healthy eating habit you’re on and all of the food runs I do over the next week will be to salad bars”

Sam let out a hearty laugh as he watched your eyes widen when you saw Dean walking closer towards you. “You really think I’m going to let you win after that promise Y/N? Rabbit food, really?” Dean shouted, a boyish grin painting his face.

You silently pleaded with Sam whilst smiling and just as he let your wrist go, Dean came charging into the motel room and practically tackled you onto the bed.

“Sammy go, go!” He shouted, all the while pinning you down and stifling laughter. Dean was near enough straddling your waist and you couldn’t control the heat that suddenly flushed throughout your body. You struggled as Dean fought to restrain your hands above your head, albeit you struggled half-heartedly as this position was a delight to be in. You huffed as your struggles slowed but you caught Dean’s eyes as you did so, your movement slowing completely. His beautiful green orbs were staring straight into you, they held a softness that you don’t get to see very often and it calmed you. You felt the heat rushing into your cheeks as his eyes bore into yours and your breathing became laboured. The more you tried to keep it steady, the more unsteady it became.

The moment was over as quickly as it had started as the sound of Sam picking up his bag and running into the bathroom quickly gained the attention of you and Dean. You watched as Sam strode to the bathroom with ease, a smug smile on his face aimed towards you as he shut the door, the sound of him locking it signalling your defeat. You threw your head back onto the bed, your hair spraying over the cover “Oh come on, I dibbed it you assholes”

You sighed in frustration, albeit friendly but still, was it too much to ask just to shower first ever now and again? You threw your head to the side, your stare very much focused on the bathroom door. Dean chuckled as he looked down towards your submissive form “You take ages in the shower, admit it” He teased, his hands still firmly pinning yours to the bed.

You rolled your eyes as you slowly brought your head back to the centre position, your breath hitching in your throat as you noticed that Dean seemed to be closer to you than he was before. His hips and lower stomach were just grazing over yours, the tight black shirt he was wearing showing the toned figure underneath, the red flannel shirt he was wearing over the top was open and was hanging either side of your frame, the sleeves rolled up just before his elbow.

You would be lying if you said that your underwear wasn’t a little bit damp right now. Dean was close enough so you could see the few freckles that dusted across his nose and cheeks, his scent of mint, leather and gun powder was intoxicating. You tried to compose yourself, clearing your throat and confidently looking him in the eye “Well I have to make myself look pretty somehow, beauty sleep doesn’t cover it on its own” You said it as best and as confidently as you could, trying to throw the green eyed Winchester of any scent that would scream that you were attracted to him.

Dean grinned slightly as his eyes scanned your face. It wasn’t the cocky shit eating grin you were used to when it came to this flirting rodeo. It was soft, sweet and sincere. He huffed slightly as he broke eye contact, his gaze travelling down to your lips “You don’t need to make yourself look pretty sweetheart’”

Before your brow could crease with confusion, the shit eating grin spread across his lips and you were back in familiar territory “Aww sweet, that some sort of compliment?” You shot back, you wrists wriggling in his grasp.

Dean let out an exasperated breath and looked down, you always had a hard time believing you were beautiful. Dean would watch you on nights out at a bar, backhanding compliments men gave you, deflecting them in some way. You were never vocal about how you felt about yourself, especially in front of the boys. You always thought they would think you were fishing for a compliment, which you weren’t. You saw yourself as normal, not drop dead gorgeous, just normal. You liked food; carbs and grease. You liked the occasional beer and whiskey. You liked that you wore minimal make up every day because it made you feel damned good when you decide to go all out. That was you and you were happy with that, unbeknownst to you, so was Dean.

You felt Deans grip around your wrists loosen which snapped you out of your ten second thought. His head was still dipped low and as you shifted your view slightly, you saw he had a perfect view of your breasts and he was taking it all in. How they rose and fell with each steady breath. A smirk found its way onto your lips as you had found your advantage. You moved your legs slightly ensuring they were in the position you needed them to be in. You silently thanked your past self for dressing in a tank top just so you could take advantage of it for this moment. You clamped your legs either side of his hips and in one swift motion, you’d rolled him over onto his back, your hands now clutching his above his head, your breasts dangerously close to his face.

“Goddammit sweetheart” Dean almost growled. He was surprised, impressed and incredibly turned on. He had no idea how you hadn’t seen or felt the growing bulge in his jeans. He wet his bottom lip with his tongue as he looked up at you.

You dipped your head lower, your gaze switching between his eyes and his lips. You purposefully brushed yourself against his chest, lowering yourself just enough to whisper in his ear “Your first rule of fighting Dean, don’t get distracted”

Within seconds, the bathroom door had opened and you jumped off Dean, grabbed your duffel and practically shoved Sam out of the room. You locked the door behind you, turned around and leant your back up against it. The throbbing between your legs was getting a bit too much to ignore. You felt like a giddy teenager all over again, you were just missing the female best friend and the late night phone call where you curl your hair around your finger. You and Dean always flirted, always play fought, you’ve trained together and been that close before. Why was this time any different? You pondered that thought as you gently bit your lower lip, you enjoyed his weight on top of you, and enjoyed being the weight on top of him. Turning on the shower, you started to undress. Maybe it was your turn to have a little fun of your own under the hot water.

Back in the motel room, Dean sat himself up on the bed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck slowly. He looked up to see Sam staring at him, a bemused expression on his face. “What?” Dean stated flatly.

Sam sniggered, his eyebrows raised “What was all that about?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair “What was what about?” He replied, a slight annoyance in his voice.

The youngest Winchester shook his head as he stuffed his clothes from the hunt back into his duffel bag “Dude, Y/N was straddling you when I opened the bathroom door” Sam stated, a coy smile on his face.

Dean scoffed “We were just… play fighting” It wasn’t a lie, it started off as just play fighting however the thoughts that were going through his mind as he pinned you on the bed were somewhat explicit. Maybe he just needed to get laid tonight, he thought.

“Yeah right” Sam chuckled, noticing Dean’s faraway look “So does play fighting normally include you looking so flustered?” Sam teased as Dean locked eyes with his younger brother. Dean felt the tips of his ears turn pink and he frowned in annoyance.

“What-shush Sammy. You don’t know what you’re on about” Dean snapped as he began to take off his boots.

Sam suppressed his knowing smile, it had been clear to him for a while that his big brother had feelings towards you, even though you both called it harmless flirting. Although Sam knew that his brother would never admit to such a thing, always putting everyone else before himself “Uh huh” Sam sighed as he sat in front of his newly set up laptop, intent on distracting himself with some research on any nearby cases before they headed out for the night. As much as Dean would deny it to Sam, or to anyone, he had started to feel differently around you. He enjoyed the harmless flirting, he enjoyed training you at the shooting range back at the bunker and he enjoyed the nights out you all had together. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he just enjoyed spending time with you. Dean took a deep breath and he sighed, running a hand over his face before finishing by scratching at his stubble. You had stirred feelings within him that he hadn’t felt for a very long time, feelings that he was currently trying to disguise by pulling on the material of his jeans as discreetly as he could.

Whatever these feelings were, he knew he had to supress them and push them deep down. You couldn’t know how he felt and neither could anyone else. He couldn’t have a weakness that any demon or monster could take advantage of. He kept telling himself in his head that he didn’t deserve you, he couldn’t bear to be without you, and so he needed to keep you safe. That meant keeping you at arm’s length.

That was the right decision, wasn’t it?

Tell me your thoughts!

Any like, comment or reblog would honestly mean the world to me. I’d love to know your thoughts and opinions. I have a good chunk of this written so let me know if you want to come along for the ride...

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@squirrel-moose-winchester @witch-of-letters

[atc74]

You Were The First - Chapter 4

Summary: Dean Winchester completed basic training in March 1941 and was offered an opportunity he can’t turn down, to fly with the Allied Forces and England’s Royal Air Force. It will provide a better future for him and his bride-to-be, but what he doesn’t know is it will change the lives of everyone around him.(This is loosely based on Pearl Harbor).

Square Filled: none for this chapter

Written for: na

Characters: Dean Winchester, Y/N Bennett, Mrs. Bennett, Arthur Ketch

Warnings: Angst, mentions of drinking, excessive alcohol consumption, mentions of death - This is not a happy chapter y’all, but it is essential to the story. 

Word Count: 1426

A/N: Thank you so much to @crispychrissy​ for her patience and guidance, and exceptional listening/reading skills. This probably would not have happened without her. An Anon sent me a request that I will also fulfill later in the series for an Eagles song. Guys, it has been a really long time since I was this excited about a series! I hope you like it!

YWTF Masterlist

Chapter 4

It had been more than two weeks since she had learned of Dean’s death. It had been eight days since they laid Dean to rest without his body. Y/N didn’t eat, she didn’t sleep. It seemed that she was not even capable of tears any longer, her body long having given up. A knock sounded at the door, startling her from her fog. Y/N stared blankly at the tea her mother kept forcing on her and ignored the sound. Her mother sighed loudly and walked through their home to answer the door.

“Oh Arthur! It’s so good to see you!” her mother’s voice carried through the first floor of their home. “Please, come in.” Y/N heard her greet their visitor, but she didn’t move. It wasn’t until her mother called to her did she rise from the small table, shuffling her feet to the front room.

“Hello, Arthur,” her voice was withdrawn as she had no emotion let to feel.

“Y/N, hello. It has been a long time; it’s nice to see you,” Arthur looked to her and smile; a smile she did not return.

“I’ll just leave you two to catch up,” her mother announced and slipped from the room. Y/N lowered herself to the sofa, legs curled up under her.

“You look well, Darling,” he spoke, a slight British accent still lingered.

Arthur Ketch was born and raised in England. He and his family moved to America when he was just ten years old. He was a year older than Y/N and since high school had carried a torch for her. He and Dean had argued and fought more than once about the attention Arthur had paid her over the years, though she always turned him down. Her heart belonged to Dean Winchester only. There would never be another living soul she would love like that.

Arthur’s family was wealthy and he had just returned from his final year of college. He filled her in on his travels but told her he had come back to Lawrence to run the family business, medical supplies. Ketch and Company was the leading supplier of medical instruments and supplies in this side of the Mississippi River. His father was a powerful business man and had just made Arthur an officer with the company. He was back for good now. Although her family had been friendly with the Ketch’s over the years, her father having done business with them frequently, she had never wanted anything other friendship from him.

“I would like to take you to dinner, Y/N. Please say you’ll join me?” Arthur requested, but there was no kindness in his tone or his eyes. She wasn’t hungry, but it was still a more pleasant prospect than spending another lonely evening with a cold cup of tea and her thoughts.

“Yes, Arthur. I would be happy to have dinner with you,” Y/N answered. “Let me just freshen up and we can go.”

“Yes, of course, Darling,” he replied, a cockiness in his voice that she had heard too many times over the last twelve years.

Y/N took her time dressing and applying some light makeup. Her hair pulled back in a simple bun, she descended the staircase to find Arthur still standing in the spot she had left him. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” she questioned, not hearing him properly.

“I said I don’t mind waiting,” he covered quickly and led her out the door to his waiting luxury sedan.

Arthur took Y/N to the nicest restaurant in Lawrence, Donovan’s Sirloin Room. They served a variety of choice beef cuts and fresh seafood. Y/N wasn’t ready for a public appearance, but is glad that she had finally left the house. She knew she would never stop mourning Dean, but would he really want her to fade from existence? She knew the answer and vowed to try to come back to life, a little at a time.

Despite the looks of other patrons around them, she found herself enjoying dinner and Arthur’s company. He had always been charming and funny and it suited him well. Y/N even found herself laughing a time or two at his stories. It didn’t escape Arthur’s attention that she enjoyed four side car’s with dinner.

It was well past seven when they left the restaurant, Arthur holding the door for her to slide back into his car, holding her elbow to keep her steady on her feet as she did so. “I would like to show you something, if that is okay?”

“I would like that Arthur,” she replied quietly, her words slightly slurred, not really looking forward to going home to her mother’s hovering. She looked out the window as Arthur drove through to the wealthier side of town. He drove slowly down the tree lined streets, leaves budding as the sun set in the west, giving them a golden hue as they rustled in the breeze.

“What is this Arthur?” Y/N asked when he pulled into the driveway of a large, white two story home.  

“This is mine; I purchased it yesterday. I figured with a college education and a new job, a new home rounded out the new start,” he stated, looking up at the structure through the windshield. “Would you like to come in for a drink?”

“I don’t think so, Arthur. Thank you very much for the offer, but this is the first time I have been out of the house since…” she couldn’t even bring herself to say the words.

“I am very sorry for your loss, Y/N. Your mother told me and I cannot imagine how you must be feeling. Dean was a good man,” Arthur conveyed.

“Yes, he was. He was the best. We were to be married in August. It’s not fair, but that is war, is it not?” Y/N felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. “Arthur, would you mind taking me home, please?”

“Of course, Darling. I am so sorry that I have upset you,” he reiterated.

“You didn’t Arthur, he did,” her voice was barely a whisper. The return drive to her parent’s house was silent. When he opened the door for her, she nearly fell on her face as the alcohol started to take it’s hold. Arthur walked her to the door to ensure she didn’t fall, then placed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“Good night, Darling. I hope to see you again, soon,” he told her before returning to his car.  

~*~

“Y/N! It is high time you get out of that bed and do something with yourself!” Mrs. Bennett burst into Y/N’s room early. She flipped on the lights and threw back the curtains, letting the summer sun shine brightly through the windows. It was then that she noticed the empty bottles littering night stand, the vanity and a few scattered on the floor where they fell out of Y/N’s hand once she passed out.

“Noooo. It’s too early,” Y/N moaned and buried herself farther under the bed covers, as the bright light assaulted her senses and caused her brain to feel too large for her skull.

“You have been locked up in this house for weeks, with the exception of a couple of hours out with Arthur. You need to pull yourself together, child!” her mother was raising her voice higher and higher. Finally, Y/N had had enough.

“You don’t think I know that? I lost the love of my life, mother! We were getting married and he is gone. The only boy I have loved for sixteen years is dead!” Y/N collapsed into a heap of cotton and tears on her bedroom floor, her body wracked with the sobs she had been holding in since they had buried Dean.

Her mother did the only thing she knew how to do, she held her baby girl, a grown woman and practically a widow at only twenty years old. Mrs. Bennett’s heart broke for her daughter, not being able to imagine the pain she was experiencing.

“Mama, what am I supposed to do? It hurts so much, I wish I couldn’t feel anything!” she wailed in her mother’s arms. The two Bennett woman sat on the floor and cried together; one grieving for a lost love, the other grieving for a her daughter and a hurt she didn’t know how to fix.

I’d love to hear/read your thoughts!

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YWTF Tags (CLOSED): @luci-in-trenchcoats​ @hexparker​  @meganwinchester1999​ @bitchy-tacos​ @ultimatecin73​ @neveah-potter15 @housav​ @thereisnolumos​ @frickfracklesackles​

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Dreaming Out Loud

Chapter 28: Trial By Fire, Pt. 1

The past couple weeks since Miner's Day and David's proposal had been surreal for Mary Margaret. Surreal in the best way possible. Even with the trial looming over them, it hadn't dampened her joy or happiness. Even with the morning of the trial upon them. Just waking up in David's arms lessened her trepidation a bit. And they all had done their best to distract her the last couple weeks.

Stephanie was all over helping her with planning the wedding and seemed really excited. Mary had already asked Emma to be her maid of honor and Stephanie a bridesmaid. And while Emma was excited for the wedding, she gladly handed many of the duties of a maid of honor over to Stephanie, for Emma didn't pretend to know much about planning a wedding.

But first, that morning, they faced the beginning of the trial that with any luck would put Damon Tromera in prison

Mary and Stephanie both had substitutes covering their classes for the week and Emma had the station's phone forwarded to her cell. Mary was almost too nervous to eat, but nevertheless, they found themselves at the diner for breakfast that morning.

"I know you're probably nervous, but I have hot chocolates with cinnamon and pancakes for the future Mr. and Mrs. Nolan," Ruby said, as she set the plates and cups down for them.

"Thanks Ruby," Mary replied, as the waitress put plates and cups in front of Emma and Stephanie as well.

As they finished breakfast, Albert Spencer waltzed into the diner with Mitchell Herman and Damon Tromera.

"Waitress…we need three coffees to go," Spencer bellowed, while Mitchell Herman was silent with a glare fixed on them. That had little to do with the trial though. He blamed them when Sean moved out a few weeks ago and in with Ashley. It was hard and they didn't have much, but they were happy. Mitchell was upset his son was working at the cannery and had enrolled only part time in night classes online, instead of going full time to law school. David suspected that when the curse broke and his memories were returned, King Christopher would feel ashamed for his actions. Back in their land, he had loved Ella and his son dearly. A grandchild was something the King would have been overjoyed to have. For now, they all would remain on the receiving end of his scrutiny, as he defended Damon Tromera's deplorable acts.

Mary focused her attention away from their steely gazes. She was determined not to let any of her fear show and fortunately, with David's arms around her, that was a little easier.

They left with their coffee and David paid their check, before they left for the courthouse as well. They only hoped that even in a town run by Regina and these same cronies they were going against, that justice would prevail.

Henry sat alone at a table per usual during recess. None of the other kids ever wanted anything to do with him. He was the Mayor's kid, which didn't help, but it was mostly because he was the weird kid that believed fairy tales were real. He lived on the tales in his book and often imagined what it might be like to live in the land his grandparents came from. He imagined him and Emma living in their castle with them, but at this point, he would have settled for getting to live with them at the loft.

"Hey kid…" August said, as he approached.

"Oh...hi August," Henry replied.

"Do you always sit and mope during recess?" he asked. Henry shrugged.

"Not really...Miss Blanchard usually talks to me," he replied.

"Ah...and you miss her today," August surmised.

"Yeah...Jim is nice but it's not the same," he said.

"None of the other kids will play with you?" August asked.

"Would you play with the kid that thought fairy tales were real?" Henry asked incredulously and August chuckled.

"I guess not...I used to lie to myself and pretend they weren't real just to fit in with the crowd," he admitted. Henry cocked his head to the side.

"How do you know so much about my book?" Henry asked suspiciously. August shrugged.

"I'm a writer...I make it my business to know a lot about books," he said vaguely.

"My Mom says you can't be trusted," Henry replied bluntly. August allowed himself a small, amused smile.

"She is probably right, but you and I have one thing in common," he stated.

"What's that?" Henry asked.

"We want the curse to be broken," August answered, as he stood up and walked away, leaving Henry to ponder their conversation.

With the judge seated, the rest of the courtroom sat as well. Mitchell Herman stood and approached the jury of twelve to make his opening statement. David recognized Marco and Tom Clark among the jurors, so he was confident that was two in their favor. However, the other ten were not people he recognized and knew it was possible they could go either way. Emma had warned him if the jury became deadlocked, then the judge could declare a mistrial, meaning Damon would walk. Gold had reluctantly admitted that this was probably what Mitchell Herman was striving for and he was worried about that. But he didn't let it show, for he knew Mary was already worried enough.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury…" he started off.

"We are here today, not to determine whether my client's actions were wrong, but rather if he should pay the steep penalty that is being sought by the prosecution," Mitchell began.

"I don't think I have to tell you how unprecedented it is to try a case that does not have the full support of the district attorney. In fact, it is unheard of. But Mr. Gold has proceeded to supersede Mr. Spencer and is funding his client's witch hunt," Mitchell continued.

"He's got to be kidding," David hissed, ready to jump out of his seat. But Gold held his hand up to halt him.

"Is my client perfect? I should say not, but I think by the end of this trial, you will be unable to convict him of these heinous charges and realize that in the heat of the moment, scorned by years of rejection by Mr. Gold's client, he acted rashly," Mitchell added.

My client is an upstanding member of this community and I believe the punishment of life in prison is too much. It is my belief that you will agree with me by the end of this trial," Mitchell concluded, as he sat down.

"That's a crazy, bull crap defense if I've ever heard one," Emma muttered.

"And one easily ripped to shreds," Gold agreed, as he stood and approached the jury, walking with his cane.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Herman would have you believe that all this is just a misunderstanding between my clients and Mr. Tromera," Gold began.

"He would, if he thought he could pull it off, have you believe Mr. Tromera is the victim in all this. But even he knows that is ludicrous," Gold continued.

"Mr. Herman's client is undeniably a predator, who has stalked one of my client's for years. He is unwilling to accept that Miss Blanchard has no romantic interest in him. And when she began to date another man, he snapped and tried to kill that man. And when this trial is over, you will see Mr. Tromera as my clients see him. A monster. A monster that must be locked away for the protection of all," Gold finished, as he took a seat.

"Opening arguments have been heard. Mr. Gold, since you are acting as the prosecution in this case, you will call the first witness," the judge stated.

"Thank you, Your Honor. The prosecution calls Sheriff Emma Swan to the stand," he said. Emma squeezed Mary's hand and then took her place on the witness bench where the Bailiff swore her in.

"Ms. Swan...can you describe the events on the evening of November eighteenth for the jury?" he asked.

"It was the night of the election. Mary Margaret and David went missing and I went to investigate," Emma stated.

"How did you know where to look?" Gold asked.

"They walk their dog almost every evening out by the Toll Bridge," Emma replied.

"Is it well known by many that they frequent the Toll Bridge in the evenings?" he questioned.

"Yes," she replied.

"Objection! Speculation," Mitchell interjected.

"Your honor, I can find several witnesses that will say this is common knowledge," Gold countered.

"Overruled...I'll allow it," the judge answered.

"What did you discover when you reached the Toll Bridge that night?" Gold asked, as Emma began to recount the events.

Despite the rain, they made it out to the Toll Bridge and Pongo took off across the bridge and started barking, as Archie hurried after him.

"Emma! It's Wilby...we found him!" Archie called, as the blonde hurried across the bridge.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"He's breathing, so I think so," Archie replied. With a gloved hand, Emma picked up the small dart next to him.

"Tranq dart," she said, as she bagged it.

"Can you take Wilby back and put him in my car?" she asked. The ginger haired man nodded.

"Take Pongo," Archie offered, as he lifted Wilby and carried him back to Emma's car.

"So the dog had been tranquilized?" Gold asked.

"Yes...the lab later determined it was a tranquilizer dart," Emma confirmed.

"At this time, I'd like to enter the dart into evidence as prosecution evidence exhibit A," Gold stated, as the dark in the bag was held up for the jury to see.

"So noted...please continue, Mr. Gold," the judge stated.

"Thank you, Your Honor. Sheriff Swan, can you continue recounting the events of that evening for the jury?" he asked. Emma nodded and began to tell what had happened when she arrived at the burning cabin.

"You're going to pay...I was going to make it quick, but now I'm going to torture you until you beg me to kill you and I'm going to make that little bitch watch!" he screamed psychotically, as he trudged toward them, as Mary started to stir.

"David…" she murmured, as he knelt down in the mud and held her close. He knew he had to keep going, despite the pain and his weakened state. Mary gasped at the horrifying sight that was Damon and buried her face in David's shirt.

"Time to suffer, pretty boy," he hissed, until he heard the cocking of a gun.

"Give me a reason, asshole, because I'd love to blow your brains out," Emma growled, as she held her gun on him. Damon clenched his teeth and put his hands up reluctantly.

"You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent," she said, as she holstered her weapon and cuffed him.

"He set me on fire...you should arrest him!" Damon growled.

"Oh yeah? And I suppose your fists just accidentally landed on David," she growled back.

"You set the fire, you bastard. After you chased us through the woods. You hit Mary too...you're lucky you're still breathing," David shouted.

"He's right. That alone makes me wish you had given me that reason to shoot you," Emma added.

"David...Mary...we've got an ambulance waiting. It's a bit of a trek. Do you think you can make it?" Archie asked.

"We'll be okay," David replied, as they were both helped along by Ruby, Leroy, and Archie.

"We found Wilby and put him in Emma's car," Archie said.

"Thank you," David said gratefully.

When they got closer, the paramedics met them halfway. A handcuffed Damon was put into one, while David and Mary were put in the other and rushed to the hospital.

"So when you arrived, you observed injuries to the victims, Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan," Gold stated. Emma nodded.

"Mary's were minor, but she was absolutely terrified and David's were more serious," Emma stated.

"Thank you Sheriff Swan, no further questions," Gold stated, as he sat down.

"Your witness, Mr. Mitchell," the judge declared.

"Sheriff Swan...on the night in question, did Mr. Tromera suffer any injuries?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes...he had second and third degree burns on a third of his body," Emma replied.

"So you could say that Mr. Tromera suffered even more severe injuries than Mr. Nolan," he stated.

"Yes...but," Emma started to say.

"A simple yes or no is sufficient, Sheriff," Mitchell stated, as he picked up the medical report.

"According to Dr. Whale's findings, Mr. Tromera suffered more than just burns. He suffered from several blows to the chest and face, caused by David Nolan's fists, yet Mr. Gold would have you believe Mr. Nolan is the victim," Mitchell stated.

"Objection! Mr. Tromera's injuries inflicted by David Nolan were in self defense!" Gold protested.

"That's pure speculation, your honor. None of us were present during this altercation. It's Mr. Tromera's word against Mr. Nolan's," Mitchell stated.

"Sustained...tread lightly, Mr. Herman and either ask a question or move on," the judge warned.

"Of course. Sheriff Swan, is it possible that Mr. Nolan used unnecessary force when trying subdue Mr. Tromera?" he asked.

"No," Emma answered sternly.

"How do you know? You did not witness their fight," Mitchell reminded.

"Because I know David. He sustained those injuries defending himself and Mary Margaret," Emma said. Mitchell smirked.

"So you "know" David. That's hardly a convincing argument, Sheriff," Mitchell stated.

"Objection, Your Honor. That is for the jury to decide," Gold protested.

"Sustained. Ask a question, Mr. Mitchell or move on," the judge warned.

"The defense has no more questions for this witness," he relented, as he took a seat.

"Sheriff...you may step down," the judge stated, as Emma returned to her seat.

"The prosecution may call its next witness," the judge continued.

"I call Deputy David Nolan to the stand," Gold stated. He squeezed Mary's hand and took to the stand where he was sworn in.

"Mr. Nolan, as one of the victims of the evening in question, please tell us how you sustained your injuries," Gold requested. David thought back to that night and began to recall what had happened.

"We were taking a walk with our dog, Wilby, out by the Toll Bridge as we do most evenings. We noticed that storm clouds were rolling in though, so we were about to head back to town. It was getting close to the time for the debate and we didn't want to miss Emma's speech," he began.

Suddenly a rumble of thunder boomed above them.

"Uh oh...we should probably head back," she mentioned, as they watched the dark storm clouds swirl in the sky.

"Yeah...it will be time for the debate soon anyway," he replied, as Wilby barked and took off.

"Wilby!" David called, as he took her hand and they chased after him. But when they found him, he was laying unconscious on the ground.

"Wilby!" David cried, as they knelt beside him. David pulled out a dark from his fur and Mary gasped.

"What is that?" she asked.

"Mary...you need to run," he said, as rain started to pelt them.

"What? I'm not leaving you," she protested.

"I have to carry Wilby back. I'll slow you down. Go back to town and find Emma. I'll be right behind you," he insisted.

"David…" she protested.

"Mary please…" he pleaded. Reluctantly, she turned to leave, but gasped, as Damon Tromera stood on the bridge in her path.

"You won't be going anywhere, Miss Blanchard, except for back to my club with me. After I get rid of him, of course," Damon said coldly.

"What did you do to Wilby?" she demanded to know.

"The mutt will be fine. The same won't be said for your lover in a few moments though," Damon replied, as he approached. David put Wilby under a tree to shelter him somewhat from the rain, before he got in front of her.

"Mary...run…" he commanded.

"I am not leaving you with this monster!" she cried, as rain now poured down on them.

Damon kept approaching and David still stood defiantly in his way. The dark haired man raised his fist and threw the first punch. David ducked and tackled him to the ground, delivering a punch himself. This one connected and Damon growled, as he punched in return. David felt pain explode in his head, as he briefly saw the shiny metal on Damon's knuckles. He was dazed, allowing Damon to get in another punch and he threw David off, as Mary screamed for him. The blonde tasted blood and his vision blurred.

"Mary...run…" he pleaded. But instead, she spied a large stick and picked it up. David's head swam in pain after another punch and Damon backed away. He turned his attention toward Mary Margaret and was beamed across the face with a stick. He growled in pain and held his face, as she scrambled to help David to his feet.

"Mary...you need to run! I'll just slow you down," he groaned.

"David...I am not leaving you behind," she repeated, as they trudged through the muddy forest. It was dark now and rain was coming down in sheet. They could barely see anything and she yelped when David cried out, as Damon hit him from behind.

"No!" she cried, as they went rolling to the ground. David saw black spots in his vision, as Damon buried a fist in his gut, knocking the wind out of him.

"At this time, the prosecution would like to introduce prosecution evidence exhibit B. The brass knuckles Damon Tromera was wearing that evening. You'll find that they come with a lab report confirming that they are stained with David Nolan's blood," Gold stated.

"This evidence is accepted by the court," the judge agreed.

"Mr. Nolan, please continue recounting the events that evening," Gold urged.

"I blacked out for a bit, but then found Mary. She told me Damon had run off, because a wolf attacked him. We kept moving to try to get out of the rain and that's when we found our way to the cabin," David explained.

"And what happened once you reached the cabin?" Gold asked.

"We built a fire and tried to get warm and dry. Mary found a first aid kit and started to treat my injuries," David replied.

"And then?" Gold prompted.

"She didn't get very far, because Damon found us. He broke down the door and I grabbed the fireplace poker to defend us," David said, recalling those frightening moments.

David gripped the poker and raised it before them.

"Do yourself a favor and step aside and maybe you'll live to see another day," Damon threatened.

"Like hell I will. If you think I'll let you hurt Mary, then you have another thing coming," David threatened back.

"Mary...unless you'd like to have his blood on your hands, then you should save yourself that pain and come with me," Damon said.

"She's not going anywhere with you," David growled. He smirked and made a show of his considerable strength by breaking a wooden chair over his knee so he could use one of the legs as a weapon.

"Had he hit me with that, I probably wouldn't have made it. But Mary saved me by hitting him over the head. Unfortunately, that didn't stop him," David stated.

"Objection...Mr. Nolan is speculating about things he does not know. It cannot be determined if he would have died or not," Mitchell objected.

"Sustained...the jury will disregard Mr. Nolan's speculation," the judge agreed.

"What happened then?" Gold questioned.

"He lit the leg of the chair on fire and tossed it onto the rug. He backhanded Mary and I tackled him. We fought each other and I managed to push him off. Then Mary and I escaped the cabin. Emma showed up not long after that," David stated.

"Thank you Mr. Nolan, no further questions," Gold stated, as Mitchell stood up and approached.

"Mr. Nolan...when you pushed Mr. Tromera off you, where did he fall?" Mitchell asked. David gave him an icy glare.

"Into the fire," he answered.

"So...you're the one that pushed Mr. Tromera into the fire," Mitchell stated.

"Objection! The witness was fighting for his life," Gold interjected.

"I'm merely making sure the jury is aware of all the facts, Your Honor," Mitchell stated.

"Overruled," the judge agreed.

"You were angry, weren't you Mr. Nolan?" Mitchell asked.

"Of course I was angry. He attacked us!" David replied hotly.

"So you pushed him into the fire," Mitchell responded.

"He hit the woman I love! He planned to trap me in that burning cabin!" David exclaimed.

"Mr. Nolan...you will reign in your temper or you will be removed from the courtroom," the judge warned and Mitchell smirked smugly.

"Or perhaps with that fire, you saw an opportunity to eliminate my client and thus end his pursuit of your girlfriend...and any competition he presented," Mitchell goaded.

"Objection! Mr. Nolan is not the one on trial here!" Gold exclaimed.

"Withdrawn, no further questions," Mitchell said smugly, as he returned to his seat.

"The court will recess for one hour for lunch. Dismissed," the judge said, as he slammed his gavel down. David seethed, as he returned to his seat and Mary hugged him tightly. She saw Damon glaring smugly at them and quickly averted her eyes away from the monster. She knew that after lunch it would be her turn to testify and she was admittedly terrified, but anxious to tell the jury exactly what Damon had done and said to her on that night...

[choco-chip-cookie]

SugarDaddy!Cal Pt.14

A/N: So you guys, this time this whole chapter was written with Harry Styles' album on repeat because girl...that's my shit. I could’ve ended it better, but I honestly didn’t know how to. Anyway, you all know the drill of 100 notes and feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy, lovebugs💕

 **WARNINGS**: Nothing besides profanity. A nice vanilla chapter

One/ Two/ Three/ Four/Five/Six/Seven/Eight/ Nine/Ten/Eleven/Twelve/Thirteen/Fourteen/Fifteen Sixteen/ Seventeen/ Eighteen/ Nineteen/Twenty{END}

"Mmm, good morning, princess." Calum whispered as he pressed loving kisses to your jaw.

You sat there stiffly cuddled into his chest, your voice holding no emotion as you told him,"Get your shit and leave."

Calum's eyebrows met together and he pulled his arms from around you, sitting up so that he could see your face. You wouldn't even look at him.

"I thought we-"

"Yeah, I did too." You cut him off before telling him what you came to realize when you woke up nearly an hour ago."You fucking used me."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember what you texted Michael?"

Calum's eyebrows never parted during this whole conversation, his face showing nothing but confusion. When you unlocked and handed him his phone, it was already opened on the messages between him and one of his best mates.

"You went through my phone?"

"Michael text you something about work and I told him I'd tell you when you woke up, because I knew you wouldn't want to talk to him at seven in the morning. I just so happened so see my name and got curious."

"Yeah, but you-"

"Cal, it was never a problem going through your phone for three months straight. Why is it a problem because you're in trouble?"

Calum shook his head and went to read the conversation, mentally choking himself from what was said. Of course he didn't mean it like that, but now that you've seen it there's no way your going to believe him.

Calum: I just miss her mate. ~I miss everything about her from how loud her laugh is to the way she scrunches up her nose when she sees something disgusting ~And the way she always smelled when we cuddled ~And the sex...the sex was fucking phenomenal...I miss that the most Michael:Then go get her Calum ~I couldn't if I wanted to ~Go apologize and fuck her, you said that works every times she's mad ~This is different... ~I'm just telling you what you told me you do when she's upset with you ~ You go buy her some shit, apologize, and have sex with her. Isn't that how the ordeal works or something ~Well...I guess you're right ~I’m always right ~I'll try

"Y/N, I swear to you that really wasn't my intention." He held his hands in the air as if surrendering."I drunk a few beers and came over to talk and it just led to something else."

"Wasn't that the point, though?" You spoke, your voice laced with attitude as you crossed your arms.

"No! No, I promise!" Calum seemed panicked, but you payed it no mind.

All Calum was thinking was he somewhat got you back last night only to lose you again over some stupid text that seemed worse than it actually was. He felt as if he should have the word "IDIOT" written in big bold letters across his forehead.

"I honestly missed you and it wasn't just about the sex. I just wanted a way to feel close to you that's why I went through with it. I thought- I thought that meant we were going to be okay."

You heard the sadness in his voice and saw how his face softened as if he was actually hurt, but no. He shouldn't be the one hurt, he's the one who keeps hurting you.

"You're just..." you laughed lightly, shaking your head in disbelief."you're unbelievable. Feeding me dreams just to get what you want. Do you even actually like me?"

"Yes! Of course I do! Everything is just too complicated right now, but-"

"Just go." You interrupted, standing to show your bare body. When you saw him eyeing you and watched as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, you had to remember to be mad at him. "Don't come back, Calum. Seriously."

"No."

"Go to your fucking model girlfriend and tell her how you cheated on her with a bitch like me. See how she feels."

You slowly began to find some lounge clothes consisting of a pair of black tights and a polka dotted shirt and ignored the fact that Calum was still sitting there on your bed. Sadly, he was still fully naked, so the multitude of thoughts that were running through your head contradicted what you initially were thinking about him. God, the things that boy did to you. He waited until you began to re-moisturize your curly mane in the mirror before he spoke again.

"Princess, I really am sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Yeah, me either."

You heard the Māori sigh behind you and him shuffling around to unravel himself from the sheets. You watched through the mirror as he got dressed with the most defeated expression and fought the urge to let him back in. It was heartbreaking to say, but you really had to let Calum go. You refused to keep him in your life if that only meant you'd be angry and jealous twenty four seven over some white girl you didn't even know. Some girl who snatched him from you within days and ruined what the two of you had going. You weren't going to be bitter over a man who was never really yours. Calum wrapped his toned arms around you from behind and you stiffened, looking at him through the mirror. He had his face hidden in your hair and began to sway you from side to side, letting out another sigh, but this time in contentment and not disappointment.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting one last hug before I see you in God knows when."

"Get off of me."

He placed a kiss to your shoulder and mumbled out,"Bye, princess.", and finally exiting your room.

You huffed and bent over to lean over your dresser to rest your face in your hands. Who knew catching feelings would be this complicated?

You groaned loudly as you continued to bang on your friend's door, praying that he'd come open it. You knew he was in there due to hearing the sound of what seemed to be Adele playing somewhere in the apartment. Typical Connor.

"Dammit, Connor, open the door!" You shouted and waited a few minutes to see if he'd come to the door. When that didn't work, you began to threatened him."Don't make me go to headquarters and tell them that I don't know if you're alive or not."

It wouldn't be the first time you had to check on both him and Felix for locking themselves in their apartment for days at a time. Soon enough you heard the sound of a lock turning and there stood your best friend in all of his...glory.

"What the hell?" Your eyes widened at his appearance.

You'd known this man for two years and you've never, not even once, caught him slipping like this. His hair was definitely in need for a cut and it seemed as if he hadn't washed it in a weeks. His usually glowing tanned skin was now a bit pale, he had dark bags underneath his eyes, and the sparkle in his bright, sky blue eyes dimmed to a dull blue. You were pretty confident that if he could grow facial hair, he'd be sporting a full beard.

"Connor, oh my God. You just...wow."

"I know, I look like a homeless man, shut up."

"Okay, you're definitely getting out of this apartment." 

“Y/N, no.”

“Connor, yes.” You used the same tone back on him as you pushed passed him to enter.

Surprisingly the nicely designed apartment was nearly spotless besides the empty pizza box and half a two liter coke sitting on the coffee table. However, the house had lost its usual smell and its comes to help you realize that it was Felix's cologne that surrounded these walls. Connor always wore something light with a fruity scent whereas Felix wore some heavy polo cologne.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You haven't left this apartment in a month." You deadpanned."The only time you do leave is for groceries."

Connor didn't say anything as he plopped into his couch. You took a seat beside him and watched as he picked at a string on shirt that you realized belong to Felix, the difference between their height causing it to be a little longer on him. You two sat in a comforting silence until he finally broke it.

"Have you seen Felix?" He asked his eyes darting away from you the second you made eye contact.

"You don't know where he is?"

"We haven't uh...He won't return my calls or texts." He shrugged."Im actually kind of worried because if he's with some other guys getting comforted he might not ever come back,because that's how I met him and-"

"Connor, Felix's been sleeping on my couch for the past month."

"And you didn't fucking say anything?!"

"I thought you knew!"

"Oh my fucking God, Y/N! All this time I could've been banging on your door trying to win him back instead of thinking he was on the other side of town or some shit!"

"All you had to do was ask." You said as you crossed your arms."I thought you were ignoring him on purpose."

"Of course I'm not ignoring him. I saw Felix as my future husband, I'm not letting him go."

You noticed the tears in his eyes and sighed, opening up your arms and gesturing for him to hug you. You knew the blonde most likely hadn't spoke a word about the breakup to anyone and had been alone in his apartment letting it all out. He sobbed loudly on your shoulder as you rubbed comforting circles on his back.

"I miss him so fucking much."

"He misses you too, C."

"I wouldn't fucking know. He's being so bitchy about the whole thing and-and-"

"Shhh, it's gonna be okay." You reassured."I'm gonna get you two back together, I don't care how long it takes."

"Promise?"

"I promise." You held out your pinky finger and Connor laughed through his tears, wrapping his pinky around yours."So, I'm gonna talk to him and we're definitely having a girls day tomorrow, okay? Give you time to get back to your fabulous self."

"It's a date." He agreed, ruffling the curls on top of your head.

"Felix, we still need to talk!" You shouted as you made your way into your apartment, placing your purse down on the coffee table. "Felix?!"

You saw that he was missing from his usual spot on the couch and went to check the other rooms in the apartment to see if he was there or not. You told him while you were out earlier running errands that when you arrived back home, you'd have along talk about his relationship situation. You weren't really too surprised to find out he went ghost on you tonight.

"Of course he leaves when we have to talk about Connor." You said out loud, rolling your eyes in annoyance. As you went to enter your kitchen you stopped in your tracks after spotting several gifts on along the countertop. "The hell?"

There sat three dozen roses, a large bag, and two other boxes placed neatly on the marble isle. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you searched for a note or something regarding as to where this all came from. Your initial thought was that Felix went shopping and just so happened to buy roses since those were his favorite flowers, but you knew deep down exactly where this came from. As you finally found a small card tucked neatly in one of the roses, you couldn't fight the smile that made its way to your face at the sight of his handwriting.

I'm sorry about what happened this morning and well I guess last night too. I don't regret it, but I do apologize. Hope you can forgive me, princess. - Cal

You reread the note over and over again, soon allowing giggles to escape your lips. It was like you were in ninth grade with your first crush all over again. You smelled the roses and felt the softness of the petals along your fingertips. Then you suddenly felt extremely excited as you pulled the paper from the bag to reveal a new Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 and you squealed at the sight of it. How Calum remembered that you wanted this purse before everything went down, you had no idea. You even forgot that you wanted the purse. You gently placed it back into the bag before opening the larger box first which happened to be a large assortment of chocolate covered strawberries. There was another note tucked inside, but this one was computer generated letting you know it came shipped with them.

I remember you told me chocolate covered strawberries were "to die for" on our second date. Please don't die, though :) - Cal xxx

"Idiot." You mumbled out as you picked one up, moaning as the sweetness of the chocolate and strawberries juice filled your mouth.

You gasped as you saw that the third and last box contained a beautiful heart shaped pendant encrusted with diamonds around it. In the middle were the simple letters "C.H." engraved in a beautiful cursive font.

"He didn't." You whined to yourself as you examined the necklace in disbelief.

You had always joked about getting his name on a necklace so that everyone could know you were his, but it was always all jokes to you. The necklace was cute, yet subtle. You really had to see the necklace up close to see the small letters and that's exactly what you liked. Only you and a few people would actually know the true meaning of the necklace.

Before you could come to your senses and get over the elated feeling, you had your phone in you hand waiting for Calum to pick up his phone. Once the sound of his voice came through you grinned wider than you were before.

"It's kinda hard to be mad at you and push you out of my life when you're buying me gifts."

"That's good news, then."

"Thank you, Cal."

"It's nothing, really. " he blushed on the other side of the phone."You deserve it after all I've put you through. I know it can't make up for it, but it's a start."

"Yeah, I guess so."

There was an awkward silence until Calum broke it , attempting to make conversation." So...whatcha doin?"

"I just got home, I guess I was gonna shower."

"Do you think we could uh...we could talk on the phone like we used to?" He questioned nervously.

"Where's Nicole?"

"She's not here. Are you seriously going to always bring her up?"

"I am." You confirmed.

"When you told me you were petty, I didn’t take you serious.”

“Oh, I bet you wish you would’ve prepared yourself then.” You flopped onto your bed and leaned back against the multiple pillows that were placed at the head of it.

“Nah.”He chuckled.”I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”

[trliteraltrash-fics]

Grin and Bear It - Chapter One

Chapter One : No Way Out

[Ao3 Link]

Inspired by @miss-conduct !

Notes:  You’re a 27 year old military Lance Corporal. You’d think that’d be good thing, but on a covert mission gone south, will you ever get to go home? Or will you adapt and find comfort right where you are? oh, and maybe you hadn’t heard, apparently time travel is a thing?

Left. In. Right. Left. Out.

Feet pounding the dirt forest path. Child slung over your back. A wetness seeping over your clothes. Panic closing your throat. Your lungs burned inside your chest with every breath. This was your fault. Your responsibility. This was all your fault, the blood soaking through your shirt, having used your jacket to tie off the injury. The open wound. The small whimper and dry sobs didn’t sneak past you. She was trying not to cry, she was scared you were mad. Jesus knew you were furious, but not at her – never your baby sister. It wasn’t her fault, you were mad at yourself, how dare you think that going for a walk in the forest with her was safe. How fucking could you let this happen? Idiot!

You ran faster.

Over rocks and tree roots. Jumping and almost slipping on the wet stones across the creek, your feet slammed against the ground. She needed first aid, you didn’t think about it, didn’t think about the consequences – how stupid could you be? Letting her fall like that? Your feet pounded against the already compacted dirt ground. well-worn with time, the momentum slowly pushing to the point of toppling over. The path twisted on what felt like forever until you saw the tell-tale signs of nearing home. She could be bandaged up and she could stop bleeding if she hadn’t already. The crying that had started becoming louder, you could tell she couldn’t keep a brave face. But you were still so damn proud of her for being so strong, even when you were panicking.

You stepped over a log, running towards the edge of the forest and towards the back gate to your Aunt’s house, your home. Storming up to the door, you had to readjust your grip on your little sister as you got it open. Stepping inside as though you were a one-person army storming a castle, you ran over to the old leather couch you had spent too many nights sleeping on. Placing her carefully down so you wouldn’t put her in so much pain due to the jostling of having had ran about a half of a kilometre.

You rushed to the bathroom, around the corner at the end of the hall. You tore open the cupboard under the vanity, blood now covering the front of the cabinet. Yanking the first aid kit out and throwing yourself back to your sisters’ side, you scrambled to perform basic first aid as you took your cell-phone from your pocket. Your fingers slipped uneasily over the buttons, dialling triple zero. Each breath a struggle as you placed the warm, wet device between your shoulder and ear.

“[Y]--[Y/N]!” You hear her sob as you heard your phone tell you that it had insufficient funds to make the call. Regretting buying groceries this week now, aren’t you? You fucking pig. You pushed the thoughts away and tried again, weren’t emergency calls supposed to be free?

“It’s okay, Mari, it’s okay.” Your phone dialled out as you took her hand.

“Hello, you’ve reached triple zero, fire, police, or ambulance.”

“Hello? I need an ambulance! – my sister – she’s hurt.” You called into the phone as you shakily tried to cleaned her wounds – the amount of blood covering your hands was astounding. Etching into your mind like an iron poker.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” He couldn’t hear you – you looked at your phone, covering it with fresh blood from your hands, only one bar – shit. You didn’t know where to start. Your throat felt tight. It was becoming harder to breathe.

“My sister!” You repeated with urgency, voice cracking with desperation and thick with emotion as you tried to stop the bleeding. But everything was becoming quiet. You sisters cries, the sound of the man on the other end of the phone asking if someone was there.

You felt your shirt stick to your back with blood that wasn’t yours and covering your hands as you looked at her leg, foot at an awkward angle. What if it was broken? Oh god, what if you had broken her ankle? If your Aunt found out, she would kill you! Setting to work trying to make a splint for it in case, you tried your best to calm down, look at the situation logically. Remove your emotion and panic from the task at hand. It was so hard. You didn’t think you could do this. All you had was some duct tape, towels and the iron pokers from the fireplace. If you couldn’t get help, you’d try yourself. You had to help her. It was your fault. But you could fix this.

You wouldn’t be useless.

-

It had been eleven years since you made that promise to yourself, not to be useless anymore. Having joined the military ten years ago. You were a Lance Corporal, by official terms, denying any possible promotion to the title of Corporal due to your “lack of leadership ability.” Which was just to say that one of the higher ups didn’t particularly like you or your opinions. That didn’t stop you from working efficiently with your team and living life in the army – currently deployed for a twelve-month tour in Russia, due to the alliance the American president, one Mr. Trump, had formed with their government. You had been touring previously with American soldiers and it seemed the most logical source of action. Given the alliances of your country. Not that you agreed, you had family back home that you missed. God, what would it feel like to see them again after so long apart?

Walking out from the sleeping quarters into the open, cold air of the base, your attention was called to the main tent, the rest of your four-man squad already standing at attention in from=nt of your commanding officer. His sharp American accent carrying over to your ears, indicating that he was giving a briefing. It struck you as odd that you weren’t notified due to your seniority over them as squad leader. Making your way over, you adopted the same straight as a board stance they were already sporting. The glare from the commanding officer in front of you sent electricity across your skin, muscles tensing as he continued with the briefing he was addressing to your associates. Not an uncommon sight to your comrades.

“The facility is located here –” he pointed to a portion of the map with the coordinates 65◦38’17” North 99◦33’09” East. “Forty-Eight hours from now, you will report any note-worthy intelligence. Complications are to be dealt with quietly.”

He glared at each of you, announcing that you would be departing tomorrow morning at 0300 before your squad were each dismissed. To your dismay, not only had you missed most of the briefing, you were left standing there. The higher ranked officer looking you over as if you were the mud and slick that clung to the underside of the bases’ vehicles. The feeling in the air becoming threatening and so tense that it could be cut with a rusted knife.

“Watson, if you weren’t being deployed on this mission I’d tie you to a fucking tree and leave you to starve.”  His voice was low, malice dripping from every syllable, and changing position to stand directly in front of you. “You are the leader of a squad handling classified intelligences. I can’t have the weakest link in the chain be the fucking leader.”

You remained stoic, he was right after all and speaking was too dangerous in this situation. He might literally tie you to one of the trees littered around. Not that he hadn’t almost done similar before.

“I don’t want any complications. All mistakes will fall on you. I won’t have the rest of your team suffer because of your insolence. Is that clear?” You nodded.

“I said; is that clear, soldier.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Better. Go clean the ACVs. Be prepped for departure – and don’t you dare be late.”

 ACV packed, and your squad loaded, you were filled in on the mission specifications. Russian science facilities were undergoing a security check due to allegations on a new type of tech being developed. The mission itself was new to you, but by no means was it against your line of work, however it still left you with a feeling of trepidation. There wasn’t much you could really gain in the first forty-eight hours if you were posing as security. You sat back and shut your eyes, rifle sitting in your lap, hands poised to pick it up and shoot if required. you needed to have at least a half hour of sleep or you’d be useless. You refused to be useless, besides. Your commander wasn’t breathing down your neck, and your ‘brothers-in-arms’ were already accustomed to your polyphasic schedule.

When you awoke, around two hours later, it was due to Jenks kicking at your feet. He had a smile on his face. “Can’t sleep for too long.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” You said to him, a small smile forming on your face.

“Fuck you, Watson.” He retorted. Your gaze momentarily turning to Mouse and Sprint. Of course, they weren’t their real names, but you accepted it as part of your day-to-day with them.

“How long until we get to Ground Zero?” you asked, rubbing your eyes and looking back to Jenks.

“Around four hours or so.” He nodded to your companions. “Boys wanted to get some sleep before we got there. Figured You’d keep me some company while we wait.”

“Fair. How’s the Mister?” You watched as his face lit up.

“Getting’ ready to adopt our kid in about six months. As long as everything here goes smoothly, I’ll probably get to go see Bubs get born.”

“’Get born’?” You repeated with a smile. “Best hope he doesn’t hear you talk like that. He’s probably correcting you all the way back in Texas now.”

He chuckled and looked down at his watch. “He’s probably asleep actually.”

“Figures. These time zones are a bitch sometimes.” You reached into your pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. Jenks looked at you.

“Yer looking at that little star again, aren’t you?” he asked, leaning forward.

You nodded and leaned forward, turning the photograph towards him. “Can’t go anywhere without at least one to brighten up my day. Why can’t I have this one in particular?”

“I can’t believe she was eight there. How old is she now?”

“She turns eighteen in a few weeks.” You smile at the photo. You wouldn’t miss her right now if you hadn’t have joined the army.

“Hey, what’s with that look?” He starts. “You’re lookin’ a bit depressed there.”

You look up at him, shaking away both your negative thoughts, and his concern. “It’s nothin’ really. Just don’t think I’ll be getting the all-clear to give her a call this year.”

“Can’t send her a letter?”

“Asters’ been holding mine, remember? I don’t know if she’s sent me any.” He nods at you.

“You’re not confident they’re getting out then?”

“Or if she’s changed her address.”

“Yeah…” he sighs and looks back to the photo. “Well, if I know you as well as I think I do. That’s not gonna stop yer stubborn ass from gettin’ back to her.”

You spoke with Jenks for the rest of the trip to the research facility, the topics ranged from your star back home, his husband, even the details you missed in the briefing. As it turned out, the intel on the facility had said something about some tests going wrong, and that they weren’t coming back with enough reports. It was suspicious, and, with the race to develop new tech, you could see how that could be perceived as a problem if you were working with another country. All it really did was remind you of group projects back in high school.

Arriving at the facility, you found the entire premises was empty and obviously ransacked, if the lack of security detail was anything to go by. The ACV was a few hundred metres south, leaving an impossible feat if you were shot at due to it being your only EVAC point. Sending half your squad around to the north of the premises, you made the decision to flank south, and look not only for survivors but for any potential threats. The gates were already unlocked upon arrival. Another candidate leaning towards a death sentence. You would ordinarily report this right away, but the radio chatter could be useless if the facility was deadening contact out of the premises.

This wasn’t something you would’ve seen yourself doing almost a lifetime ago, wearing sturdy boots, feeling too loose from not having retied them in a while. Nylon camouflaged military jacket, black shirt, and dark military pants, all of which was standard issue with a few modifications on your part. All whilst conducting highly dangerous work with the implication of no government help if any of your team was caught.

You swept the area, Jenks, your right hand doing the same to clear before moving on. The main floor of the facility looked to be a loading bay. Crates of equipment stacked up un neat piles around the general vicinity. A few had papers stuck to them, probably for organisation. However, no one was inside. It left the facility with an eerie feeling to it. The lights weren’t on, the sunlight filtering through to show the dust in the air, most of which was filtering from outside.

You turned on the torch at the end of your rifle, using it to clear the darker areas of the room as you walked over to a desk. You looked at the ground first, paper, pens and other potential intel scattered about. Crouching down, you looked down at the papers. Most of it had terrible handwriting scrawled along the pages. Some of it were what you assumed were types copies of different reports. You caught some names, but they meant nothing to you, or the mission at hand. You turned to the computer monitors. Turning one on, you were met with a blue light, a single line of test at the top left of the screen. It looked like that facility had power, but the computers themselves were useless.

You furrowed your eyebrows and continued, pressing the button on your communicator to inform your team of your findings. Frowning when you heard static, you continued onto another room. It was the server room for the floor, the casing around the hard drives, cables, and other equipment in building servers, ensured that none of the dust in the main room of the facility interfered with the servers. You took note and decided it was something you would have to set Mouse to hack and gather intel from. You spent a few minutes ensuring the room was clear in case there was something you had the potential to overlook.

Turning and exiting the room, you moved to the next one. The room looked to be a main office, which caught your attention immediately, an office you could work with. You searched through the small, ransacked room, under the desk, behind filing cabinets, clearing it of potential threats and any potential workers. Again, the room was empty. The feeling you got so far was increasingly suspicious, but your orders were clear, and if you didn’t come back with something you were sure that your Commanding Officer would make good on his promise. You didn’t fancy the idea of being tied to a tree. Not like it matters, you deserve it.

You started to go through the contents of the desk, there were a few forms that had only been half completed. The computer didn’t work, which you expected, what you found, however, was a schematic to the building. You look over the blueprint carefully, taking note of the different layout of each floor. There were three test labs, four server rooms, another two offices, and another loading bay. All set out in an extremely specific way.  You turned your attention to the contents of the draws, you found about what you’d expect. Paper, pens, manila folders with nothing in them. Nothing useful.

You couldn’t call it in, and there was no way to check in with your squad until you met them outside once again. You hadn’t heard any disturbances yet, but that didn’t mean there weren’t complications. With everything falling onto you as squad leader, you certainly hoped that there hadn’t been any interferences. You moved over to the filing cabinet, you pulled it open, the files inside were scattered and untidy. Some filing system. Just what had happened to the people in this facility?

You sorted through the files, looking at the titles, trying to find out what could have happened, and some useful info. So much of it was dated a good few years back. Perhaps research into whatever they were testing? The last file you picked up was dated around twelve months ago, and titled Project Streamline. The large ‘classified’ written over the text didn’t deter you from pulling it out and opening the file. It had schematics in it, but no real information. There had to be more information around here somewhere. The schematics were of a machine, perhaps if you could find it, you’d be able to find out more.

You took the contents of the folder, folding it and tucking it into your back pocket. Figuring that you would at least have something to show for this mission if nothing else. You searched through the rest of the floor but found nothing useful. You did, however, almost become trigger happy when Jenks footsteps registered in your ears on the second floor. When you saw him, he looked just as concerned at you felt.

“Jenks.” You said, voice low. “Anything?”

He looks at you and shakes his head, his voice matching your tone. “Nothing on this floor. Mouse needs to check the servers. Powers out though.”

“Top floor split?” you ask as the two of you find a staircase.

“Looks like we have to.” He places a hand heavily on your shoulder, nodding at you before heading left.

Turning right, you found what looked to be one of the test labs. You opened the door, the sound of the heavy door on strong hinges caused you to tense. Walking into the large space, you found stationary, research, equipment and general non-critical intelligence scattered everywhere. The room was mostly empty besides from the desk near the door, and the separation between the desk and the rest of the lab itself, linked by an internal door. A machine caught your attention, like nothing you had ever seen before. Well, not in person. You took the schematic from your pocket, unfurling it and placing it against the glass of the window separating the lab and testing desk.

It matched.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you walked over to, and pried open the heavy sliding door, the sound of it unsealing like a fridge door that hadn’t been opened for a long time. The air was stale, your bootsteps echoing much louder on the hard floor. Your gaze fell to clearing the room, despite feeling as though the room was empty. The room only held the machine in it. Standing in the middle of the room, you turned to the machine again – you knew that you really couldn’t hope to understand it just by looking at it, not that you had the time to do so.

A feeling of unease grew over you, something about this room was wrong. You took a few steps around the machine, tentative, with your rifle drawn, sweeping to re-clear the room. Boot-falls thudding as your gaze circled everywhere you had a clear view of. You had made your way to the middle of the room, next to the machine, investigating it now. Just what was it? You reached into your pocket, taking a small camera from your utility belt and took a few digital photographs of the machine. The schematics told you nothing of how it worked, just that it was. You weren’t sure what left you so uneasy, not knowing, or finding out.

Your eyebrows drew together as a gnawing began at your mind. It the suspicion that there were no staff present. Even more so that many doors were unlocked. The anxiousness that came with not knowing. Were you just that useless that you couldn’t find simple intel on the facility? You bit your lip, that couldn’t be it. You refused to be useless, not anymore. The movement of what sounded like the crumple of paper came from behind you.

Check your six, soldier.

You turned so fast that you slipped backwards. Grasping the first thing your hands could land on. Which happened to be the machine behind you. Everything stopped. A feeling of weightlessness and heaviness all at once as things felt too fast and too slow all at once. A force not unlike a freight train hit you, making you feel heavy and exhausted, body aching.

What the fuck was going on?

-

You awoke with an intense ringing in your ears. An ache running throughout your entire body. It started in your deadened feet, up your legs, torso, your arms, down through your fingertips, and up into your cranium. Light blinded you as you opened your eyes. Everything was sluggish and heavy, the sounds around you were overwhelming with the spiking headache hindering your senses. Everything felt so loud, so overwhelming. The air smelled synthetic, like fresh buildings. There was the sound of a car passing, it blew everything louder into your already over loaded ears. It was all so overwhelming, and you hadn’t even looked around properly yet.

The feeling of danger was suddenly prevalent. You pushed through the pain of your body, everything painful, the beat of your heart speeding up as adrenaline shot through your veins like lightning. Groaning, you forced your screaming muscles to just work with you. Give you a sense at what had happened. Figure out why it was so goddamned loud and overwhelming. Where even were you? Pulling your legs under you, one knee up with a foot flat on the ground. You pushed yourself up, everything begging you to just lay on the ground and give you a moment to recover. Your eyes slowly adjusted as you took the time to do this, gaze flicking around you. Heart picking up again, faintly causing you to wonder if you were going to have a heart attack.

You were on the corner of a street. Nowhere near the facility.  Everything was sleek, plants so green. It looked like the saturation of the world had been turned up. Everything hurt, and you were in a jarringly unfamiliar environment. The people wore clothes that you didn’t understand. The sun was bright, and your eyes hurt. Why did everything hurt?

You looked over yourself. Your jacket was torn, there was blood on your pants leg. Was it yours? You didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to entertain the idea of having gotten yourself hurt. It would only slow you down. There were a few passers-by who simply walked past. They seemed as though they didn’t want anything to do with you. Their gazes politely snobbish. One passer-by did stop however, asking if you were alright, you think. The ringing was intense. You felt cool hands on you, disorientating you as you were pulled onto your feet. Your stance properly balancing out on your after a few moments, the dizziness becoming less overwhelming. You lifted your gaze to meet the person who pulled you up and almost fell all over again.

There in front of you, was what seemed to be a fully-functioning robot. No wires. No controllers. Nothing to suggest an external port in operating. It held the silhouette of a regular person, metal shaped like real limbs. Its face the only thing that really stood out as non-human despite the colour of its ‘skin.’ Such a sophisticated piece of technology was almost as jarring as the fact that you were in a completely foreign environment. Eyes widening, you stumbled back against the wall behind you. The robot looked at you with what you guessed was probably concern, head tilting a few degrees the right. It didn’t exactly have a moving facial structure. You reached into your holster and fondled clumsily for your sidearm. You aimed it at the ground between you, arms shaking. Attempting to force yourself to listen past the ringing which had dulled only enough to just make out individual sounds.

“Where am I?” you asked in a pointedly, if not highly distressed, voice that was somewhat hoarse. The robot seemed worried, almost flinchingly so. Unresponsive for several long seconds.

“You’re on the corner of King’s Row.” They responded, worry and fear in their AI voice. You grew confused, and significantly more distressed.

“Where the fuck is King’s Row?” You glared at the robot, who didn’t answer fast enough for your growing impatience. You raised the gun towards the sky and pulled the trigger. The sound, not unlike that of lightning rang out and echoed, leaving a painful jolt down your aching frame. A scream down the street alerted to that someone had seen, or heard you pull the trigger. You didn’t think so much as felt the panic that grew intensely within you, your heartbeat adding to the mix of sound in your ears. Gaze flicking around and back at the robot. “Where is the closest city?”

“Y-you’re in London.” The robot replied, voice panicked and arms out defensively in front of them, as if you were going to shoot them next.

London?!

The next thing you heard was the sound of police sirens in the distance, getting closer. You swore, for the umpteenth time and took off running. Gun gripped tightly in hand. Thoughts chastising you for making an idiot call. Shooting in the middle of a heavily populated area? Really? Legs screaming, knowing that you would be in for a hell of a time in whatever god forsaken reality you were in. Was all of this even real?

You turned down an alley way, finding the streets too open. Too vulnerable. It was too bright outside. You’d be spotted if you didn’t find a place to hide. But where would you even find that kind of solace? Maybe this was all a trick and you could go back… but back where? You couldn’t remember. It was foggy, too hazy to get a clear grasp. Maybe you hit your head a bit too hard. You knew you weren’t supposed to be in London.

Leaping onto a dumpster and over a wire mesh fence, you took a moment to assess your surroundings, legs screaming at you. There was a fire escape to your right, quite possibly leading to the roof of the building. A set of windows high above you on your left. The dank alley wasn’t more than about three metres. Maybe about 9 feet in width. You could make it. Moving under the fire escape, you jumped up onto an unstable box. You turned, crouching to balance and get the maximum amount of spring as you leapt up grasping the bottom bar of the retracted metal ladder. The pile of boxes falling over. Swinging your hands, and using your legs for momentum, you started to climb. It was hard, body protesting in the dangerous situation you had placed yourself in. But adrenaline was a hell of a drug.

On the sixth rung up you pulled your legs up onto the platform. The sirens were louder now. You could hear the law enforcement officers shouting to each other as they searched for the one who had been shooting. Looking for you. Climbing up the stairs towards the higher floors of the building, you ducked behind plants, crates, anything that could potentially serve as cover from the view of the officers below. Only a few more floors now and you’d reach the top floor of the building. All the while, your body down to your bones continued to beg, to stop. You counted your footsteps and ran as quietly and quickly as possible.

One, two, three, fo--

You heard a shout. looking down, you saw one of the officers walking down the alley you had come down, on the other side of the fence. Dammit. You got down as low as you could, moving behind a crate covered by a cloth, probably used as a table. You watched as he inspected they alleyway. They looked like the other robot you had encountered earlier. It sent a shiver down your spine, anticipation growing as goose bumps flared over your skin. Would they spot you? If you were arrested there was no way you could explain your situation. You weren’t supposed to be here.

You chanced crawling as quietly as you could to the next level, taking advantage of the cloth at the top of the stairs. You chanced a look. The officer was scanning the fire escape. You held your breath, blood like ice in your veins as you pressed yourself flat against the side railing. Your legs turning to lead. The ringing in your ears an annoyance that left you wondering how long you had to wait until you could move once again. Your hands were shaking, this was different than being out on the field. It was in a city. This wasn’t an open field or a sweltering forest. It was a city full of people.

You cast your gaze to the floor above you, the top level of the fire escape, and thus, the access to the roof. Somewhere they wouldn’t be able to see you from the ground. The thought of being away from the eyes of the police, in an environment you didn’t feel was safe at all what short lived as the sensation of being watched flooded your senses. You froze. You had to find a work around. A plan B. A way out of the eyes of the authorities.

You looked at the floor you were on. There wasn’t really anything you could use, was there? There were potted plants, tarps and other items that were too large to throw. Your eyebrows furrowed. You had to have something small. Preferably that would create a large enough distraction to take the officers’ attention for several seconds. But what did you have that you do that? You looked down at your hands, and then down at yourself. Your pistol sat in its holster. Your pistol, it had bullets in it, obviously, but would they provide enough of a distraction?

You took the clip from the handle and sat the pistol in between your legs, eyebrows furrowing as you carefully removed two bullets from the clip. You placed them into your pocket as you reloaded the clip into your pistol, returning it to its’ holster. You turned your gaze behind you, looking carefully to the alley way. The had to be a certain trajectory you could take to get at least one of your bullets to land in a way that would lead to your escape.

You found that the ringing was back as you tried to think, you could hear each breath you took, deep and anxious. You could almost see the calculations you were making in your head, written out for you to take in any and all contingencies. You took the first bullet out of your pocket and threw it, aiming for the pavement behind the officer.

Ducking, you heard a small, sharp pop. You chanced a look out to where the officer was standing, he was turned around, walking towards the street to investigate. You carefully went up the stairs, the movement itself causing more protesting from your aching legs.

At the top level of the escape, you looked down again, the officer was still facing his back to you. Leaning back, you let out a quiet breath. Looking up to see how far you had left to climb before you’d be seated on the roof. Another three metres roughly. You didn’t think you’d make it that far, not with the fresh blood you could feel on your leg, and the dull ache settling in your already exhausted bones. Maybe if you just rested for a minute, you’d be fine.

 You awoke once again to a someone patting your cheek, distinctively British accent trying to talk to you. Senses becoming overloaded, you felt the cool air against your skin, the quieter sound of pedestrians and other civilians, the same synthetic tinge to the air, the warmth of their hand. The feeling of danger and insecurity filled you as you opened your eyes, noting the darkness of evening. You took hold of the persons’ wrist with your left hand, glaring up at them, and reaching for your weapon. The person in front of you, was, in fact, a young woman. Her eyes covered by a type of orange safety googles.

“Hello, love. Are you alright?” She asked, her voice laced in a cheerful sort of concern. She didn’t seem too worried about the grip you had on her wrist. She looked like she was used to this sort of encounter. You took half a moment to take in your surroundings while she awaited an answer. Still seated on the fire escape.

“M’fine.” You croaked out, voice rather hoarse, throat like sandpaper. You weren’t in optimal health. The young woman in front of you looked rather surprised at you for a moment, until you shifted. Upon sensing the pain, your hand tightened its grip on her wrist. God, it hurt. What the hell happened to you? It wouldn’t have slipped past her if you wrote ‘I’m wrecked’ on your forehead in big, block letters.

“Are you hurt?” She asked, voice an attempt at reassuring. Her free hand falling gently on your shoulder. Her gaze running over you to look for injuries. You however, were pushing yourself into the wall at this point. You were caged by her concern. You didn’t know who the strange, all to ready to help woman was. For all you knew she was going to arrest you.

Heart beating faster, you made the most instinctive, impulsive and stupid move possible. you brought your legs up quickly and used your feet to harshly send her sprawling backwards, limbs protesting with both effort and strain it caused. You looked around as the young woman got her bearings, you climbed onto the railing and pulled yourself up. Panic and adrenaline overbearing the pain of moving. You set both feet on the roof before she could grab at you. However, a few steps across the new vantage point, she appeared in front of you in a flash blue. You stumbled, and she grasped your hands before you could fall back, sending a jolt of pain up your arms. Your skin on fire, and joints wanting to come undone. Her gaze was a little annoyed, but still rather confused, if not concerned.

“Love, I’m just trying to help. I can get you some help if you’re hurt.” She sighed, as she regained her cheery composure. “What do ya say, hm?”

Would it be so bad to just accept the help from this concerned stranger? She did appear out of nowhere, and she was dressed rather strangely. Don’t be stupid your mind chastised. You shook your head, you weren’t going to accept her help.

“Don’t be daft,” she tried to reason, her hands tightening their grip on you to tug forward so you could stand on your feet. “Let’s get you some help. It looks like you did a number on your leg.”

Your mind raced as she spoke to you, it felt condescending, like you had to be coddled like a child. You didn’t want to go with her, it felt unsafe. You shook your head, body moving before you could think it through properly. Hands twisting to removed themselves from her grasp as you stepped back, rather stupidly forgetting that there was no surface in that particular direction – god, maybe you weren’t worthy of your rank.

Everything happened so slowly and yet so quickly all at once. The feeling of weightlessness falling over you again, only supplemented by the sense of being pulled down farther than you had been standing. The woman in front of you became aware of your stupidly self-inflicted situation. You heard her voice, but not her words as air rushed over you and past your ears. A flash of blue and a rather hard bump on the head was all you processed before blacking out..

-

The young British woman, Tracer, felt bad. When she found you lying on the fire escape, she thought that you might’ve been looking for a place to sleep. It wasn’t the most uncommon sight in the world – seeing someone who could’ve been regarded as homeless. Your clothes had been torn and were, admittedly, rather dirty. What else was she supposed to think? Waking up and hearing your voice had been a shock. Her initial though was that maybe you were drunk, but she hadn’t found the scent of liquor on you. That only meant one thing.

You were Australian.

She wasn’t sure what had surprised her more, your nationality, accent, or the fact that you weren’t loud and uncivilised like the people left behind back in your home country. It made you somewhat of a rarity in her line of work. Her caring nature left her with the desire to help you, she knew you were in pain, and when you fell, an unsightly gash on your head opened. She had to get you help.

She had known she couldn’t go to the hospital, should she be recognised and arrested due to her not exactly legal heroics. So, instead she had taken you to the relatively underground, Overwatch safehouse in London. Her friend, and partner on duty, Lucio, had been stationed with her, their investigation leading them to London, where she found you. Which, in her line of work, had been complete luck.

That’s what lead to now, a week after she had found you. Tracer seated outside the infirmary of the New Overwatch HQ facility. Resident medic on the scene, having not allowed anyone near you since you were admitted into her care. Of course, that hadn’t stopped Tracer from asking after you, for your progress. Even if you’d be up and walking around soon. Sadly, nothing had come of it besides from the fact that the doctor had put you into an induced coma while she did tests and administered what she thought was the best treatment to get you up and running again.

Tracer really couldn’t get the look on your face out of her head either. Shock, pain, and then anger all mixed into a horrible expression of someone who looked cornered. Had she made you feel like that? Backed you to far that you felt like you had to run away? It brought to her an understanding as to why you had reacted the way you did. Kicking her off you like that. She could tell you were strong from the force in it.

Maybe she’d get the chance to ask you. Well, not until you were in good health. Besides, maybe you would grow to hang around and talk to her about it all on your own. Even sign up to the new overwatch once you were well enough? She certainly hoped so.

“Lena.” Doctor Ziegler called for her, suddenly derailing her train of thought. Her gaze snapped up to the doctor who was looking down at a file with her eyebrows furrowed.

“How is she, Angela?” Was the first question out of her mouth, concern evident as she stood, the expression on her face earnest.

“Tell me again, where did you find the young woman?” Angela’s pen tapped against your file.

“Out in King’s Row. After the posting in France. We had to go to London.” Lena’s gaze fell to you, lying in one of the hospital beds in the infirmary.

“And you said you found her unconscious?”

“Yes. And, as I said in my report, when I was trying to help her, she had a dreadful fall. Hit her head against the railing of a fire escape.” She watched as Doctor Zeigler furrowed her eyebrows, rubbing her fingers against her temple and turning to walk into the infirmary. Lena following her. The room itself filled with familiar scanners, monitors, medical equipment and the smell of disinfectant.

“I have some concerns.” Angela’s voice was strained, as though she hadn’t been sleeping. Lena furrowed her eyebrows.

“Concerns? What’s wrong? Is she going to be alright?” Her questions only caused a tired sigh from Doctor Ziegler. She watched as she ran her fingers through some of her blonde hair, tucking some behind her ear. Angela walked to her desk, the sound of your constant heart beat filling the room ofr a few moments. Tracer found a number of files stacked neatly on the desk.

“I’m not certain of her condition. I will have to consult Winston about this.”

“Talk to Winston… what’s wrong with her?”

“Her ribs are bruised, I have mended the wound in her leg. Her other minor injuries have healed rather well so far. However, it is her mind… despite the injury… there is an abnormally large amount of activity in this coma she is under.” She had started mumbling to herself as she looked over her reports and data. “It is moderately alarming.”

“Why is that concerning?” She asked, a slight bit confused. How was having an overactive brain a bad thing? “Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Angela runs her hands over her face, the lines painted over her face from stress only added to her look of exasperation as she looked down to the file she had. Mostly full of scans, the information Lena had told her, and a list of your personal effects. “It is… unclear, at this stage, Lena.”

“You’ll be able to fix her up, though, won’t you?”

“We shall see.” Ziegler told her, flipping over to a new page. “If she wakes.”

[daydreamnct]

What it Feels Like

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1,687

Characters: You(f) + NCT’s Ten (ft. EXO Baekhyun)

Genre: Angst

PART 2 / PART 3

When my agency approached me and asked if I would be comfortable with getting fake married to another celebrity, strangely enough my first thought was not about asking my boyfriend of 3 years. 

In fact, Ten didn’t even cross my mind as I excitedly accepted the opportunity to be on one of my favourite reality TV shows ‘We Got Married’. Instead, I thought about how much I used to enjoy watching my favourite stars slowly become closer and more attracted to their husband or wife, how it revealed different sides of them that you wouldn’t expect and how the idea that they had real feelings for each other felt so important to me as a twelve-year-old.

It was only after I left the meeting with my managers that I thought about Ten. I thought about how I would be spending what was my free time entirely with someone else, getting to know them and building an on-screen chemistry with them – something that my boyfriend and I couldn’t have. Part of me felt guilty, but I knew that Ten and I trusted each other enough to overcome the difficulties that come with being in a secret relationship. We loved each other.

When I got back to the dorms that evening, I facetimed Ten after the evening meal with my members. This was our routine – we weren’t allowed to meet up in person. Ten’s agency was much more popular than mine, but the rules were the same: No Dating. Ten’s group had newly debuted whereas mine had passed its two-year anniversary, but Ten and I had met when we were both trainees and attending the same international school. We had chemistry almost immediately, with both of us sharing a love for dance that developed into something more quite quickly.  He was destined to be successful, and I felt lucky to be a part of his life. We made a promise when we became an item that we would make the relationship work. We were important to each other.

We were passionate people, and couldn’t hide our feelings that well. But that didn’t matter because we always told each other the truth. When I told Ten about the show, he told me straight away that he was happy for me; but I could see that he was upset. I tried to reassure him that it doesn’t matter who they pick to be my husband, nobody could ever make me feel how he did. He smiled and said that he was fine with it, that he trusted me, and that he loved me. I don’t know if I really believed him or not, but I let myself ignore the thought in the back of my mind that I had messed up. I told him that everything would be okay, that the show was fake and that it would be like all the other times we’ve had projects with other people. We were lying to each other.

The main thing we had established was that who I was marrying wasn’t important. The show wanted it to be a surprise, have our first meeting caught on camera. I was advised by my publicist that the most important thing about this show was portraying a connection between my husband and myself, so my intention was to become friendly enough with them that conversation would flow and skinship wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. The set up for our meeting was a picnic in the park, and I got there first. I was expecting to be paired with an actor, but then I saw him and knew this was not going to go how we planned. EXO’s main vocalist Byun Baekhyun walking towards me with a grin on his face. He hadn’t spotted me yet, so I tried to make sense of the thoughts in my head in the time I had. Not only was he a member of the same company as Ten, he also had seniority over him and was someone Ten highly respected. I understood why we had been chosen as a couple: we both came from well-known idol groups whose collective fanbase would boost ratings for the show. Added onto that, we both came across as extroverted and were known for being good at variety which would probably make it easier for us to get along. I knew that I was lucky, this was a member of one of the most popular boy groups in East Asia and I was paired with him. So, I decided then to take full advantage of the opportunity, not just for my career but for my group and my company who I knew were counting on me to increase popularity (and income).

I tried to get into character. My heart is available, I told myself. I couldn’t give my true feelings for Ten away so I had to act like any other female would in that situation. It was just acting.

And that’s exactly what it was like. Acting. I could tell Ten thought differently, and because we were in a relationship I respected and understood the fact that he wasn’t happy. But it didn’t seem like he respected and understood the fact that this was important to me. I may have had worries to begin with about how my feelings might develop, but as it became more of a regular thing I realised that Baekhyun was a pretty normal (super rich and famous) guy who I didn’t have any real chemistry with, not like I did with Ten. My chemistry with Baekhyun was different. We were colleagues at work, both of us controlling the sides of ourselves that the other, and the world, saw.

My relationship with Ten started to change. We spoke less frequently and he always seemed to have an excuse for why he was busy. I never called him out on it, mainly because I was afraid for what was happening. I went to work every day, pretended to be happy and pretended that I was growing closer to Baekhyun. In reality, I was getting more and more tired of the pretence and tired in general as I was given more work outside of my group. We could both tell we were unhappy, but we were both too exhausted to work on the relationship.

Then one night about three months into the show, everything changed.

I had been away on the weekend for a music video shoot, so I hadn’t spoken to Ten for those two days. I missed him like crazy and I just wanted to hear his voice or see his face, so I messaged him and asked if he was at the dorms. He replied a short ‘Yes’, which seemed out of character but I was feeling emotional and tired and I just wanted to hug him. I missed my Ten, the one who could make me laugh and who I was so deeply in love with. Instead of making me happy, thinking about Ten made me sad and made me long for what we were before. I messaged back with ‘I’ll come to you’ and snuck out to visit him without waiting for a reply. We used to do this more back in the early days, but this time it felt different. I felt like I wasn’t allowed to go and I felt anxious about whether or not he would want to see me. I brushed the thought away because that’s not how me and Ten were. We were each other’s home, always welcome where the other was. It was a surprisingly quick trip, there was usually some type of work being done on the road that would add about 5 minutes to the journey. As the taxi pulled up outside the building, a message came through on my phone.

‘I’m too tired, going to sleep’.

Those six words filled me with such sadness, and mixed with sleep deprivation I couldn’t help but burst into noisy tears in the back of the taxi. The driver had to ask me if I was alright, if I wanted to go back, but I was here now. I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t allowed in, that he wouldn’t let me in. He had shut me out.

I swallowed my pride and headed towards Ten’s dorm room. I lifted a hand to knock on the door when I heard a sound that filled me with dread. A flirtatious giggle. From a girl. In Ten’s room.

A million thoughts rushed through my mind to try and justify the sound. Was he watching TV? He shared the dorm with other guys maybe they had a girlfriend over? I reached up to knock again when, to my surprise, the door opened and I was face to face with a girl I had never met. “Oh!” she said, and she laughed as she almost ran into me. The same giggle I’d heard a moment ago from behind the door. Who are you? What are you doing here? Who are you here for? These were some of the questions that ran through my mind as the girl’s facial expression grew more confused and uncomfortable. “I’ll just, um, go. Bye Ten” she said as she looked behind her and waved at Ten who I hadn’t noticed was standing there. She took a final confused glance at me and walked away quickly, brushing past me and almost making me lose my balance in the process. In her defence I must have looked insane, I hadn’t looked in the mirror after crying and I probably had mascara on my face.

Ten hadn’t stopped staring at me as though he had seen a ghost, as though his worst nightmare had come true. Suddenly, his face hardened as he proceeded to break my heart. “This is what it feels like” he said, looking the most miserable I had ever seen him. When did we become so miserable? I hadn’t noticed. I continued to stand there in silence when he broke eye contact with me. “You should leave” he whispered as he slowly pushed the door shut.

I was left staring at a closed door.

a/n: Because I’m a massive bitch and I have no soul here’s an angsty af Ten scenario. It was requested but it was supposed to have a happy ending. Let me know if you’re interested in a part two? - Kat

[gerryconway]

My Alex Kurtzman story.

Alex Kurtzman is in the news right now, obviously, because he's the director of the much-reviled "The Mummy" reboot. For what it's worth, I kinda liked the movie, probably because my expectations were lowered by awful reviews, possibly because I generally like popcorn movies, and possibly because I worked for a year with Alex and his former partner, Bob Orci, when we were a lot younger and far less grey. But I'm not here to discuss the merits of The Mummy. I'm here to relate a story about Alex Kurtzman at 25 which proved to me that he and Bob were (and are) blessed by the Goddess of Good Luck.

In 1998 I'd been working in TV about nine years, and had experience as a mid-level producer on a number of network TV shows, most recently, at that moment, on an NBC show called "Players," which introduced Ice-T as an actor in the Dick Wolf universe. I'd worked on the pilot for the show, though I ended up receiving no credit, and as a result I developed a relationship with the head of TV development at Universal TV. When the show ended, Universal wanted to keep that relationship alive, so they offered me a pilot deal, along with a role as consulting producer on "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys."

Ostensibly, the reason I was hired as consulting producer was to provide "guidance" to the two new, and very young, co-executive producers who were acting as writer-show runners: Alex Kurtzman and Bob Orci. This was ridiculous on several levels. First, at that point, Alex and Bob had been on the show for several years and already knew more about it than I ever would. Second, though I was older than Alex and Bob, and had worked in TV a few years longer, I was by no means better qualified than they were: Alex and Bob had been to film school, knew the technical end of filmmaking much better than I did, and Alex, at least, had been part of the film community his entire life-- his father was an agent. Third, while I've always been realistic about my particular set of skills (I'm a skilled craftsman possessed of moderate talent), Alex and Bob were extremely bright and talented, and already as skilled at the craft of TV writing as anyone I ever worked with. So, despite my ostensible "leadership" position I recognized immediately the only guidance I could provide Alex and Bob was the reassurance that yes, indeed, they knew exactly what they were doing.

I could also introduce them to the concept of playing hooky as a team-building skill.

Let me explain. Producing television, under the best of circumstances, is an all-consuming, life-draining and time-sucking enterprise. People who don't work in TV imagine it to be a fun, glamorous, and joyful experience. And so it is, maybe fifteen percent of the time. The rest of the time it's hard work. Long hours (especially if you're a show runner) are the rule, not the exception. When I ran a show called "The Huntress" I typically put in ten-to-twelve hour days, five days a week, and another ten hours over the weekend. Family life disappears. Relationships strain. Tempers flare. If you don't find a way to make those ten hour work days fun, you burn out. There has to be more to your life than just making television.

Alex and Bob, I thought, were two very serious, very dedicated, very driven and ambitious young men (they were both about 25) in positions of incredible responsibility. They were writing all the time, pursuing both their TV career and outside screenplay work (they'd written a spec script with one of the best premises I'd ever heard and were shopping for a new agent). Without realizing it, they were on the verge of burning out-- at least, that's how it seemed from my point of view.

Alex was friendly and open, comfortable as a long-time member of the film community, a good-looking and smart young man. (I briefly wondered if I could set him up with my daughter, but she was in college in Washington, DC.) Bob was a bit more reserved, a bit more intense, but equally smart and equally good-looking. They were very much Generation X types-- self-contained, achievement oriented, earnest and, in my opinion, a bit tightly wound.

So, as their ostensible guidance counselor, I decided to encourage them to do something completely useless and irresponsible.

The first script I worked on for "Hercules" was based on an outline by another writer on the show, Paul Coyle. Paul really was a senior writer-- his career extended back to "The Streets of San Francisco" in the mid-Seventies. During a conversation at a story meeting with Bob and Alex, Paul and I discovered we were both fans of Las Vegas, though for different reasons. I liked Vegas for the night life, great restaurants, and relatively inexpensive hotels-- I don't gamble, so I always feel like I've taken advantage of the casinos underwriting the hotels, restaurants, and shows. Paul, on the other hand, was almost a professional poker player-- he paid his bills during slow periods by spending weekends in Vegas, picking up several thousand dollars a visit. The two of us, and a few of the other writers at the story meeting, waxed enthusiastic over the joys of Vegas, entertaining ourselves for a few minutes until we realized Alex and Bob were staring at us blankly.

Alex and Bob, it turned out, despite growing up in Southern California, had never been to Las Vegas.

I knew immediately what had to be done.

"Road Trip!!!"

Yeah, well, that's not what I said, but it's what I thought, and over the next couple of weeks I made the case that Alex and Bob and Paul and me (the other writers demurred) should take an afternoon flight from the nearby Burbank airport to Las Vegas, spend a night in the City of Sin, and return to Universal Studios the next morning, refreshed and less likely to burn out by avoiding, for one Tuesday at least, yet another ten-hour work day.

After only a slight hesitation, Alex and Bob agreed.

A week later we were on our way. Paul spent the flight explaining the in's-and-out's of gambling in Las Vegas to Alex and Bob, who said they never gambled before. Which games to avoid, which casinos had the fairest slots and best tables, how to bet and under what circumstances. Paul himself planned a night of poker at downtown casinos where the house took the smallest cut. From past experience he figured he'd clear two or three grand. For my part I advised Alex and Bob to catch a show. Don't bother gambling, I said, or if you do, just set yourself a loss limit -- in my case I allow myself to lose a hundred dollars at blackjack, then I'm done. The boys-- to me, they were always "the boys"-- thought that sounded sensible.

After a great dinner at a first class restaurant, we split up and agreed to meet for breakfast the next morning before flying back to Burbank.

I saw a show, played blackjack for thirty minutes, quit when I was up by twenty dollars, went to bed.

Next morning, the four of us met for breakfast as planned. I felt relaxed and content. Once again I'd beaten the Las Vegas system by not playing along. I hoped Alex and Bob had done the same. The point of this adventure, after all, was to help them unwind a bit. Losing a lot of money wouldn't exactly achieve that goal. So when we met up I was a bit apprehensive-- especially when I saw the glowering expression on Paul Coyle's face. He looked like a man who'd eaten the outside of a pineapple.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered. "Son of a bitch."

"Uh... How much did you win?" I asked.

"Eight hundred," he said. He glowered. "I lost eight hundred. Son of a bitch."

I turned to Alex and Bob. They were grinning. I'd never seen them so happy. "We won five hundred," said Bob. "Each," said Alex. "About. Maybe it was more. I think it was more." "We should come back," said Bob. "Definitely," said Alex. "This is great. This place is great."

"Son of a bitch," said Paul.

A few months after I left "Hercules" there was an article in the trades announcing Alex and Bob had sold their spec script to Richard Donner and were currently in negotiations with Donner and Steven Spielberg to write a sequel to "The Goonies." I sent them a bottle of champagne with a note of congratulations. Alex and I met for lunch. He was excited and happy and I was happy for him and Bob both. "It's amazing," he told me. "Donner took us in to meet Spielberg and pitch him our idea for the sequel. Spielberg liked it and right there said, let's do this, picked up the phone and told his producer to make a deal with us. Like he was ordering a pizza. Just amazing."

I wasn't surprised. Like I said, Alex and Bob had written a terrific spec script with what's still the best premise I've heard for a thriller (so, naturally, it's never been produced). They were hard working, driven, talented and ambitious. And as their night in Vegas proved, to me at least, they were and are two very lucky sons of bitches.

[smutmylifeup]

Out Of The Office Drama: Not A Little Boy Anymore.

This chapter takes place before @whatdoyouexpectthistime‘s latest chapter. Which you can find here. 

Rose sat impatiently in her studio. It was half past twelve and Ryosuke would be coming over in about half an hour.

She was really grateful despite the beers that piled up at Miho’s sleepover the night before hadn’t left her with a hangover. This day wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable if she had to contend with a headache.

She’d tidied up as much as she could in her studio – canvas’s, paints and brushes all pushed to one side. Her futon bare for them to use as seating.

Everything was clean enough for when he arrived.

Although, she wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered what state he saw her place in. After all, he saw how messy her room was when he was a kid.

With one glance over her appearance in the mirror, she began to prepare bowls of snacks. After all knowing them they’d end up playing for hours due to their competitiveness. And she’d be an awful hostess if she didn’t feed her guest.

But she still wasn’t sure why she was so giddy and going to efforts she didn’t normally make for anyone, for Ryosuke.

Ding-dong.

Rose glanced at her watch and then looked up. 12:42, he was early. With a quick glance at her appearance in her wall mirror, Rose scuttled and buzzed him up without checking it was him.

She shifted on her feet in front of the door and watched it open like it was slow motion.

“Aw, look at you being a good Pommy and waiting by the door for your master.”

The disappointment on her face was evident. And Minato scowled in response.

“Alright, I get it. The pommy jokes are getting old.”

Rose sighed, letting the disappointment wash out of her system and going with that she was actually annoyed with his dog related jokes.

“Thought you were coming over tomorrow?”

Rose queried, walking back to continue what she was doing. Minato followed her.

“I am, I just couldn’t find my cufflink. This is the only place it could be, since you didn’t allow me to get changed from work before I came here.”

Rose didn’t need to see it to know he was smirking.

After their first roll in the hay, they’d met several times after for no strings attached fun. He was the opposite of Kyobashi and it was a nice change of pace. But she wasn’t sure she liked this impromptu visit. He could of text her in advance.  

“I tidied earlier. If it’s here, it’ll be in that bowl by the futon.”

Rose said motioning with her chin to the ‘living’ area but not making any attempt to find it for him. While they were only fuck buddies, they had a connection – of twisted and lonely hearts, and they trusted each other more than they’d probably care to admit but they both knew it since being ‘fuck buddies’ meant trusting another person.

Minato followed Rose’s instruction and searched in the little bowl of odd titbits she’d find on her floor when she’d actually decide to clean.

“Since when did you tidy?”

Minato called to her.

“I do tidy from time to time. I’m just too busy to do it every day.”

Minato found his cufflink the bowl and then returned to Rose.

“Well whatever. Fancy messing it up again before I head back to the office?”

Minato wrapped his arms around Rose from behind and kissed her neck. And while Rose was never one to turn down an offer of getting her fill of the good stuff. And Minato knew how to fill her with the good stuff.

She wasn’t after that today and it was the furthest thing from her mind, for once.

“Tempting, but I have a friend coming over in about,” Rose checked her watch. “Shit, any moment now.”

Rose wiggled out of Minato’s hold and put the bowls of snacks on the table by the futon.

“You have friends?” Minato said.

“Har Har. Yes I have friends.”

After placing the bowls down, Rose spun around directly into Minato. She looked up at him and he was slightly pouting and that made her chuckle.

“Not the kind of friends we are, you don’t have to get jealous.”

Rose tiptoed and placed a kiss on his cheek as if to appease his possessive side. Not that she had to explain or apologise for anything. They were only fuck buddies after all.

“I’m not, I’m just surprised a Pommy like you has friends.”

Looks like the kiss didn’t appease much because he was still grumpy. And Rose rolled her eyes in response and ushered him to the door.

“You can have me all you want tomorrow.”

“Ugh, you are making me not want to leave.”

Minato responded and dug his heels in as he reached the door.

“You’re coming tomorrow?” Rose asked double checking that just in case he left more hickeys on her she could prepare to hide them from Miho in advance.

“We both will be.”

Minato smirked before planting a quick kiss on Rose’s lips as if to seal his promise and he left as quickly as he showed up.

Rose sighed and was about the shut the door when a familiar and timid copper haired man entered her field of vision.

Man.

It was weird to call him that, but he definitely was not a boy anymore.

“Ryo!” Rose exclaimed.

Her almost exasperated expression quickly turning into one of delight and opening the door as wide as possible to invite him in.

Ryosuke was almost sheepish as he entered Rose’s place. Tiptoeing his way in and looking around like a nervous little puppy.

“Something up?”

Rose asked when his usual happy smile didn’t light up his face when she greeted him.

“Oh! Um, your neighbour was leaving as I arrived and let me up, so I thought I’d surprise you. But, I um, I, I saw that guy leave and thought maybe you were busy.”

He sounded awfully sad. And that made Rose’s heart sting a little.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Ryo spat out, his eyes looking everywhere but Rose’s as if he didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Er, he’s not.”

Rose said, cocking her own head trying to read the sudden almost shoujo manga style reactions.

“He-He isn’t?”

Ryosuke’s eyes flew open and his mouth hung open a little as he stared at Rose.

“No. The only guy I stand for longer than five minutes is you.”

Rose said matter of factly. And to her answer, Ryosuke blushed about fifty shades of red but he giggled shyly.

“Don’t stand there, come in.” Rose said.

Ryosuke followed, his eyes wide and childlike as he looked around her studio. She gave him a short tour, since there wasn’t much to show him. He sat on Rose’s futon but only after she instructed him to. And Rose sat beside him.    

“I always loved your art. But you’ve gotten so much better. Even better than Mr. Kisaki!”

Ryosuke said proudly as he looked over at the array of canvases leaned up against the wall to the side of him.

“Thanks, I might tell him you said that.”

Rose smirked and waited for-

“No! Please don’t, he’ll make my life a living hell. Even Mr. Oh wouldn’t be able to protect me from his teasing!”

Rose laughed, just as expected. He hadn’t changed a single bit.

“Don’t worry, if he does anything to you, I’ll kick his ass.”

Rose ruffled Ryosuke’s hair but her touch lingered a bit longer than a friendly touch. His hair was so soft, he’d obviously taken good care of it over the years.

“No! I’m not a little boy anymore, I can fight my own battles!”

Ryosuke almost shouted and Rose let her hand naturally fall away from his head. She was a little taken aback by his tone but he was right, she couldn’t keep treating him like the child he used to be.

“Okay, sorry,” Rose said, giving a little chuckle. “You’re important to me though, I can’t help wanting to protect you. Especially since I’ve finally found you again.”

Rose shifted her position on the sofa and leant her head on his shoulder. Why was she being so affectionate? It was like she couldn’t handle not touching him in some way.

She couldn’t see his face but she felt his body tense and relax after a few deep breaths.

“F-Finally?”

Ryosuke said his voice a little flustered.

“Mm, after we moved away – probably about three or fourth months later I ran away from home.”

Rose hadn’t told this story to anyone but Ryosuke needed to hear it. After all he needed to know that she never forgot about him.

“Right back to my old house. It was a bitch of a bus journey and I used all of my allowance to get back to there. When I got to your house I knocked on the door and a strange old lady answered.”

Rose closed her eyes. This memory was still so vivid, like it happened yesterday.

“I thought maybe she was your grandma, so I asked if you were home but she had no idea who you were and shut the door on me. I remember being really pissed off and knocked again but she shouted for me to go away through the door.”

Ryosuke shifted next to her but Rose continued.

“So I went to your neighbour on the other side. And she told me that you didn’t live there anymore and I should go home. I didn’t understand, I ended up sitting outside your house for nearly three hours waiting for you before my parents showed up and took me home. They helped me in my search for you, but we couldn’t find anything. You were gone without a trace.”

Rose paused, it sounded like she gave up.

“But something in my heart told me I’d find you and I never gave up hope. We always said we were connected by the red string of fate.”

She never gave up.  

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

Rose lifted her head. That was so like him to apologise for something that wasn’t even his fault.

“I guess you never found out what happened?”

There was a sadness in his eyes that made Rose gulp as she waited for him to continue.

“I still don’t know the full details but this is what I found out when I got older. One night, probably about a month after you moved. My, my parents were on their way home from work and they were ambushed by a group of men who intended to rob them using a knife as a threat. My dad tried to protect my mum and he ended up getting stabbed. And since my mum was a witness, they stabbed her too.”

Rose’s heart shattered into a million pieces. She knew his parents well, they were wonderful people. So devoted to each other and their son.

Before she knew what she was doing, she’d thrown herself into his lap and was hugging him as tightly as she could without restricting his breathing.

“I, I had no idea,” Rose didn’t even know it, but she was crying and her words were coming out in muffled sobs against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“F-for someone who didn’t like hugs, you’re sure hugging me a lot!”

Ryosuke chuckled through his own sobs, his own arms rapping around her without hesitation. Rose had no idea what to say, she’d never dealt with death before. Nor someone dealing with a loss so great. He must have been hurt so much and she wasn’t there to protect him in the most vulnerable moments of his life.

She knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault except the bastards who took two innocent lives. And ruined a child’s life in the process.

“Are-are they?”

Rose said. Already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, they both died at the scene. The paramedics had no chance of saving them.”

It scared her how cold his voice sounded – so unfamiliar, but she couldn’t imagine it sounding any other way. She hugged him tighter his own hold on her tightening too.

He nudged her head out of his shoulder so he could look at her.

“Don’t be sad for me, my parents wouldn’t want that.”

He smiled, with tears streaming down his face. And it was genuine - Rose knew the difference between his fake and genuine smile after all.

“They taught me a lot and I was grateful for how much the loved and cherished me despite our circumstance. After their deaths, I was put in an orphanage since I had no living blood relatives. And I was on the streets a lot and I didn’t go to school much. I’d lost my best friend and parents – I was in such a dark place and some days I didn’t care whether I lived or died. And that’s how I met Mr. Oh he saved me from a gang of men who tried to beat me up.”

He smiled fondly at that memory.

“He was so strong and fierce. He took them all on by himself and only ended up with a cut on his lip.”

Rose would forever be indebted to Mr. Oh.

“He actually reminded me of you,” He said and Rose arched and eyebrow. “No, I didn’t mean I thought of you as a man!”

He quickly defended himself, although Rose didn’t think that at all.

“He had that sense of justice in his eyes and the compassion and warmth that was always around you.”

Rose smiled sadly.

“He took me in and I’ve been with him ever since!”

He beamed, despite what had happened to him. He still remained innocent, grateful and happy.

“He sounds like a good man.”

“He is! He’s the greatest. I hope you can get to know him like I do. Most people don’t look past his scary face.”

Ryosuke’s brow furrowed.

“I’d like that. You’ll have to introduce us properly next time, so I can thank him.”

Rose was torn in half but she took the lead from Ryosuke’s acceptance of what happened.

“I will! You’d really like him, Akane. And I know he’d like you too! I mean he was pretty impressed how you floored Mr. Kisaki. He told Mr Baba and Mr Ichinomiya about it, they teased Mr. Kisaki mercilessly. I tried so hard not to laugh. He was already soooo angry with me.”

Ryosuke chuckled softly, the tears and heartache drifting away into the past to the sound of his laughter.

“It wasn’t hard.”

Rose shrugged as she wiggled into a more comfortable position in his lap. She rested her head against his shoulder and they talked about the years they’d missed out on. Reminisced about old times and Rose teased him like crazy, enjoying his shrill cries of denial and embarrassment.

“So, do you have a girlfriend?”

Rose asked abruptly. And it dawned on her if he did, she probably shouldn’t be sitting in his lap like this but there were no ‘sexual’ undertones so it was okay, right?

“What?! Why do you ask that?”

He screeched in her ear.

“Why not?”

Ryosuke fidgeted under Rose and she chuckled at his reaction. Still so innocent, so the answer was probably-

“I, I don’t. I’ve never had a, a girlfriend.”

His words were quiet and if Rose wasn’t resting her head so close to his mouth she wouldn’t have heard him.

For some reason, that made her a little bit happy.

Perhaps because she wasn’t ready to share him since they’d just been reunited. Yeah that was it.

“Do-Do you have a boyfriend?”

Ryosuke blurted out.

“I don’t. Didn’t I tell you that earlier?”

“N-No! You just said that guy wasn’t your boyfriend! Who was he anyway? Ah! You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to!”

Ryosuke asked and flustered. Rose laughed. He still asked so many questions. But her brow quickly furrowed as she tried to find a way to describe this without making him think any less of her.

“A business associate.”

That wasn’t a lie really, after all she met him through MJS.

“What kind of business are you working in?”

Now that was a harder question. She didn’t want to lie to him but she also wasn’t allowed to divulge the protocols and confidentiality agreements that she signed when she joined MJS not matter how much she trusted him.

Best to be ‘vague’.

“Matchmaking and wedding planning agency.”

Ryosuke laughed and Rose lifted her head to look at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“You! I can’t picture you helping people fall in love. You hate people.”

Rose wanted to tell him off but the sound of his laughter was too adorable to be mad at.

“I guess, but I don’t have to deal with too many people. And the people I work with are great. The women I was with at the art gallery works there – her name is Jazz and she’s as feisty as they come. I’ll have to take you to meet Miho, although she’d tease you senseless.”

Rose said thinking that maybe her boss would have a field day with how puppy-like Ryosuke was.

“Wh-What?!”

He exclaimed but Rose continued.

“You’d like H. She’s real sweet and friendly.”

Ryosuke watched Rose smile and smiled along with her. He never imagined the loner she used to be would grow up to be a little social butterfly.

“Maybe I can bring you by the office sometime. I’ll ask Miho when I’m next there.”

Rose said to herself more than Ryosuke. It was only the sound of him yawning that drew her attention away from her plans of her childhood friend meeting her work family.

She lifted her watch towards her eyes and notice the time 7:29pm.

Shit. They’d been talking for nearly eight hours. It was amazing how much catching up they had done and there was still so much more they hadn’t said.

“Are you tired?”

Ryosuke shook his head but yawned again. Much like a child trying to stay awake past their curfew.

“Well you gave yourself away there,” Rose sighed and pushed herself up ready to get a blanket so he could nap. “Do you want to take a nap?”

Rose was pulled back into his chest in his sleepy state.

“Nooo! Don’t move, you’re warm!”

His hold on her grew tighter as he wailed his displeasure of Rose trying to move.

“You’ll get neck ache if you sleep like that.”

Rose chuckled, she couldn’t help it. He was so cute.

“Shhh. Sleeping.”

He nuzzled his face against her hair and then his movements stilled and his breathing got heavier.

“Fall asleep really fast still? Jeez.”

While Rose was complaining, she didn’t mean a single word of it. She was just happy to be sitting here with him. She took a deep breath through her nose and caught a wiff of his cologne. It was manly, oaky with a twist of something fruity. Nothing like the sweet and candy like smell she remembered him smelling of as a child.

Rose smiled at the memory as she closed her eyes and nuzzled into his arms.

She always wanted to be the one to protect him, even if he grew bigger and stronger than her – which he had. The tense of his biceps against her back were a clear indicator despite his gentle touch. However, sitting in his arms like this, she felt so safe, secure and protected.

She didn’t see him as a little boy anymore.

That was her last thought as she began to fall asleep.

She awoke to the sound of cheerful humming. The desire to roll over and get away from the noise since she was so cosy and warm was restricted by a firm hold.

Lazily, her eyes opened. The darkness that was around told her that is was the middle of the night and the desire to return to sleep grew greater. However the humming reverberated against the chest she was snuggled against and made it difficult for sleep to come to her again.

“Why are you so happy?”

Rose said, her voice coming out as dull and as sleepy as she felt.

“Wah! You’re awake?!”

Ryosuke shouted in response, his body becoming stiff and less comfortable.

“Hard not to be when you’re humming in my ear. And don’t answer my question with a question.”

While her words were lacklustre, she smiled at his reaction.

“I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to wake you. Ah, I just woke up and you, you were still sleeping in my arms and I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful and cute – Ah I didn’t mean cute.”

Rose chuckled as he continued to fumble over his own words.

“So I’m not cute?”

Rose lifted her head enough to look at his face and thanks to the city lights sparkling through her window, she could see the blush all over his cheeks. And his eyes widened after Rose asked her oh so innocent question.

“Um, no! I mean yes, you are cute. But Ah.”

Rose leant her head back against his shoulder and sighed contently. One of her favourite past times was teasing this little bundle of cuteness but that wasn’t why she was happy. No one had ever called her cute before and it made her happy – not that she’d tell anyone that. Miho would have a riot teasing the ever stone faced Rose about being ‘cute’.

She could feel him fidgeting under her and decided while she was probably insanely comfortable and could stay in this position forever, he probably had pins and needles in every part of his body.

Getting up and out of his lap she stood and stretched. Her relaxed muscles reluctantly coming back to life.

“Are, are you mad?”

Ryosuke stuttered from his sitting position. And Rose turned towards him mid-stretch. Her heart swelled when she caught a glimpse of his crestfallen face.

“No.”

She said genuinely and thankfully Ryosuke beamed back at her. Only to be interrupted by the alien gurgling in her belly.

“We should probably eat though.” Rose chuckled.

The snacks she had prepared earlier weren’t going to sufficient enough to sustain both of them until breakfast. So she whipped up two simple rice dishes she’d learnt to make as a kid when her parents weren’t around.

“I should probably get going soon.”

Ryosuke said scratching the back of his neck like he didn’t really want to leave.

Rose scowled and looked at her watch. It was just after midnight and with all the recent going on’s at MJS, the idea of him not staying the night hadn’t entered her head.

“No.”

She said simply, clearing away the dinner plates.

“No?”

Ryosuke repeated.

Rose wasn’t facing him and she was glad – she was sure the worry on her face was probably evident. But she couldn’t tell him about the dangers her job had put on one of her co-workers recently. That was a breach not only of the MJS protocol but Police protocol too.

She wasn’t worried for herself, she didn’t want anything to happen to him. No matter how much he’d grown up, how much stronger he had gotten, he was still so very precious to her. No one at this point knew what this weird creeper wanted or was after. He had only targeted Miho so far but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching all of them. And if she was the reason for him getting in danger – she would never be able to forgive herself.

But it wasn’t just that. She didn’t want him to leave, not just because of the creeper.

“We haven’t played a single game of Mario Kart.”

She shrugged, hoping her voice hid the truth from him.

“You’re right! I haven’t shown you just how good I’ve gotten!”

Rose sighed in relief.

“Mhm, I wanna see this so called improvement.”

Rose had put the dishes on the counter and returned to Ryosuke who was still sat at the small dining table. She took his hand without a second thought and let their hands mould into one before pulling him back towards the sofa.

It was simple and innocent but it was something Rose wouldn’t dream of doing with anyone other than him. It made her heart palpitate and made her skin tingle to touch him. What that meant, Rose sure as hell wouldn’t be able to explain.

As experienced and attune to people and their emotions and feelings – she could not understand her own. Instead she chose to ignore them for the moment. So much had gone on recently – she’d attribute it to that. Even if it didn’t make sense.

For now it seemed easier to brush off the complexity of the emotions she felt and focus on the positives. She was just pleased to be sitting next to Ryosuke and still whooping his ass at Mario Kart until the early hours of the morning. Until they both fell asleep – laying down side by side this time, curled up in each other’s arms. Nothing like how they’d fall asleep next to each other when they were kids.  

MJS - @whatdoyouexpectthistime @smile-smile-ichthys @hifftn @nitelotus

[whatever-the-fucky-i-writes]

Caught Somewhere in Time - Part 3

Word Count: 1,896

Pairing: None (Maybe a very slight OFC x OMC)

Main Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC - Andi, OMC - Max

Warnings: Mentions of injury, Mentions of death, Swearing 

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9 (Final)

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from Supernatural, only my OFC and OMC. Also, the plot line is basically a mash-up of a couple different episodes so I don’t own those either.

Previously:  In the moonlight streaming through the window, I read the time of midnight. I silently get up, somehow managing to make it all the way downstairs to my bag. I pull out my iPod and my earbuds and miraculously make it back upstairs and down onto my temporary bed without waking either Winchester. I insert the earbuds into my ears and scroll through my playlists. I select one with more calming melodies. I relax and focus on my breathing. Slowly feeling like I’m being dragged under into unconsciousness, I begin to feel myself drift into sleep. Sleep finally welcomes me into its warm embrace as “Stairway to Heaven” plays quietly in the background of my mind.

         Around twelve hundred hours the next day, after getting no particularly useful information from the police or the two victims families, we’re once again sitting around the table, this time eating lunch. I’m dining on some exquisite chinese food from the “modest” place down the street. I finish it rather quickly, throwing the empty container and chopsticks into our makeshift trash can, the plastic bag from last night’s gas station dinner.

         “I’m going to get started on some research,” I announce, taking my Raging Bull .44 Magnum out of its holster and placing it on the table. Sam nods, setting down his salad, saying,

         “That’s probably a good idea. Want the case files?”

         “No. ‘Cause it’s totally possible to know what we’re dealing with without even knowing how the victims died,” I reply sarcastically, “Yes. Of course I want them.”

         “Here you go,” he says, retrieving a few manilla folders with pictures and news clippings taped onto them from their place on the floor a little ways from the table where they were unceremoniously dropped when dinner arrived. I set them next to me and pull out my laptop. I turn on my WiFi hotspot, plug in my headphones, crank my music, and get down to business. I rummage through the folders until I find the ME’s reports. Both victims were mummified, that much was obvious, although the how had escaped the ME. The police reports were of no further help. Aside from their COD, the vics had no connection to each other. After today’s many interviews, that much was certain. To further my growing level of frustration with this case, none of the signs were pointing to a ghost or any of the usual suspects. I opened up a new tab on my browser and started rummaging through the surprisingly extensive archive of information on monsters that can suck the life out of a person. It couldn’t be a Shtriga, those fed on children and all our vics were well past adolescence. I found a few sources that spoke of a time god, but all the old gods had long ago lost their powers along with their worshipers and there wasn’t a whole lot to suggest that this god could do this to people. Mainly, it seemed he just had people sacrificed to him and, if you summoned him correctly, he would tell your future so I skim over him. I’d heard of witches being able to give and take years of a person’s lives.

         Maybe that’s what we’re dealing with here, I think. I run a search for other deaths across the country with similar MO’s. Sure enough, the map lights up like a christmas tree. Dozens of deaths across the country in different towns in different states. The victims are always mummified inexplicably and they always pop up in sets of three. There was another string of these deaths in Chicago in the 1980’s... and the 50’s going back and back and back. I’m looking over an old version of the Chicago Defender from the 1910’s when I spot him. In the picture, the man is wearing a suit, trenchcoat, and a fedora. He appears to be in his 30’s. He looks very familiar. It hits me like a bulldozer. I’d seen this man before. I look at the article from the 80’s. Just as I thought, in the background is the man from the picture, looking exactly the same.

         “Hey guys,” I say, spinning my laptop around so they can compare the picture on my screen to the clipping picture, “I think I might’ve found our culprit. You ran into a warlock that could give and take years before, right? Well, what if that’s what this man’s doing?”

         “Could be our guy,” Sam says, “Says here that the person who found the body was a young girl, Lisa Carstairs, on her way home. Maybe she knows who he is.”

         “Yeah,” Dean chimes in, “How ‘bout you track her down and Andi and I will start asking around that area to see if anyone remembers him?”

         “Sounds like a plan to me,” I say, getting up, “Let’s go.” I put my Raging Bull back into its holster and walk out to Baby, sliding into the shotgun seat. Dean hops in, turns on the ignition, and she purrs to life.

         About two hours later, we get a call from Sam letting us know that he tracked the lady down. Turns out, the guy's name was Ed Snider and he used to live down the street from her. After thanking him and hanging up, Dean and I pull up to yet another bar.

         “I hope this goes better than the last twenty bars we’ve gone to,” I say to Dean.

         “Me too,” Dean agrees as he pushes the door open and walks inside. We walk up to the bar and signal the bartender over; she nods to let us know she’s coming. She walks over after about a minute after finishing serving the person she was with.

         “What’ll ya take?” she asks, pulling out a glass.

         “Actually, we won’t be taking anything,” Dean says politely, pulling out his FBI badge. I do the same. “I’m Agent Bonham and this is Agent Jett. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

         “What d’ya wanna know?” she says sounding slightly skeptical.

         “We’re wondering if you know this man,” I say, holding up the photo of the warlock, “He may go by the name of Ed Snider. Have you seen him around at all?”

         “Why should I tell you?” she retorts.

        “Because we can have you arrested for impeding a federal investigation,” Dean states matter-of-factly.

        “Well… When ya put it like that,” she says, “Ed’s a regular here. Usually comes in around seven for a drink or two. Plays a round or two of pool or darts. Takes a few shots and leaves. Is he in trouble?”

        “I’m sorry, ma’am. But it’s part of an ongoing investigation and we’re not at liberty to discuss. My apologies,” I say sincerely. It’s always heartwarming to see people get concerned about their friends. “That’ll be all for now. Thank you for your cooperation.”

        “Sure thing,” she says, walking over to another customer.

        “So,” I say to Dean as we walk out of the bar, “I’ll call Sam and we can rendezvous back at the house.”

        “Let’s do this thing!” Dean says excitedly.

        After calling Sam, who sounded very relieved that we had finally found a way to track the guy down, we met back up at the house.

        The boys let me have the room upstairs to change in so I grab my duffel and walk up to the room. I make short work of getting my fed suit off.

        God, how I hate that thing, I think to myself. My hunting clothes are much more my pace. I pull on one of my Metallica tank tops. Over this goes a black men’s long sleeve Henley that I found at Goodwill (best purchase of my life, ever!). Next on is one of my looser pairs of blue jeans, and my black combat boots. Next up are my holsters. First, I put on my two thigh holsters. Each holds one gun to the outside of my leg with one band of leather going around my thigh and two straps that hook into the belt loops of my pants, one in front and one in back. A chance meeting with a gamer who’d seen me wearing my full hunting get-up had told me that they looked like the ones in the video game Rise of the Tomb Raider. Secondly, I put on the one that goes around the lower part of my abdomen with pockets for two guns in the back. Next comes my shoulder holster, which holds two guns on the outsides of my abdomen. Finally, I put on my custom one. It holds one around the center of my back by attaching to the shoulder holster. It’s a bitch to get on, but the gun is easy enough to retrieve. After putting all the holsters on, now it’s time to load up. I put the Smith & Wesson Model 29 .44 Magnum in the one on the center of my back. The Taurus Raging Bull Model 500 .5 Magnum and 6” Desert Eagle .50 AE Mark XIX Pistol go in the thigh holsters. The two guns that go in the holster on my lower back are the 7” Mateba Model 6 Unica .44 Magnum and the Smith & Wesson Model 629 .44 Magnum Stealth Hunter. Finally, my Taurus Raging Bull Model 444 .44 Magnum and 8” Colt Anaconda .44 Magnum go in my shoulder holster. Over all this, I throw on my leather trench coat. It keeps me from looking like a walking armory if we have to be out in the open at all. I had also sown some pockets onto the inside so it carried my extra amo.

        I make my way back downstairs and find the boys ready to go.

        “So how are we going to do this?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, “We going to try and jump him outside the bar before he goes in? After he leaves? What’s our plan?”

        “Me and Sammy here were thinking that we’d wait for him to show up at the bar. We’ll wait at the exits and let the others know when he leaves. From there we’ll trail him until we can figure whether or not he’s actually our guy,” Dean says, “We don’t want to take any chances that this is all just some wacked up coincidence and accidentally kill an innocent person. How’s that sound?”

        “Sounds like plan,” I say enthusiastically, “Let’s gank this he-witch and go home!”

        He’d shown up right on time. Nineteen hundred hours sharp. Shortly after that, we split up. Dean stayed with the Impala in the front, Sam took the side exit, and I took the service exit in the back. I’d been standing there for what felt like hours, but my watch told me it had only been one. Time always seemed to slow down when I had to wait for a monster to show itself. Finally, he appeared from within the bar. He came out my exit and began down the street.

        I text Dean and Sam,

He came out through the back. I’ll start tailing him. You guys tail me. See you soon. 

        I follow at a safe distance. Far enough back that he won’t notice me and I’ll have time to hide quickly if he decides to turn around, but close enough that if he makes a move, I’m within killing range. I’ve been following him for about half a mile when he stops, looking behind. I quickly dart behind a building.

        Shit! I think, I hope he’s not on to me. That’d make things awkward. I peer around the corner.

        “Son of a bitch!” I say under my breath. He’s gone. I walk up to where he was and look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. Just as I’m about to give up hope, I hear a sickening scream. It’s coming from within the alley, I run towards the sound. I can hear Sam and Dean running not too far behind me. I turn the corner of the alley. That’s when I see the poor homeless man lying there.

To Be Continued...

[anavoliselenu]

Creighton chapter 17

“The label is going to shift the entire record around after you turn this bad boy in. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the first single.”

His words fill my chest with warmth, and I pick up my guitar and flip a page in my notebook. The rest of these are going to bare my soul just as much, so I might as well get through them and make them as good as they can possibly be. This is more than my career, this is my passion, and I’m blessed to have this chance—and lucky to have Vale’s time.

“You ready to hear the next one?”

“Lay it on me, girl.”

I begin to play, and the smile on his face grows. By the time I finish, he’s rubbing his hands together.

“Okay, a few tweaks to the chorus, a rework of the bridge, and I think this one is going to be fucking awesome too.”

I reach for my pen. “Let’s do it.”

Vale packs up his guitar and leaves the bus at a quarter to twelve. We shake hands, and I feel like he’s seeing me as a professional now, which is validation I didn’t realize I wanted from him. I’m not just the naive girl who stepped off the stage of Country Dreams; I’m a rising talent in the world of country music, on both the songwriting and performing fronts.

With that confidence bolstering me, I tinker with the songs some more until the clock reads 12:20. Still no sign of Justin.

My confidence in Justin and not being an afterthought takes a blow, however. He’s still gone, and he hasn’t called. I’m interrupted from the slow slide into the pit of doubt by my buzzing cell phone—the one that arrived that arrived yesterday via express mail. Inside the box was a note from Tana.

Don’t you dare let your focus slip from that tour to your husband’s fine ass. This is your future, girl. Love ya, T.

Even long distance, she’s still dispensing her brand of wisdom, and it was a good reminder.

My phone buzzes again, and I finally look down. I don’t recognize the number, and normally I’d let it go to voice mail, but right now, I’ll take any distraction I can get.

“Hello?”

“Will you accept a collect call from the Clay County Jail?” a computerized voice asks.

What the hell? I haven’t gotten a call from jail in a long time. Not since the year before I moved in with Gran, and Mama was thrown out of a bar for fighting over her latest in a long string of men.

I should hang up, but my curiosity and need for avoidance spur me to respond, “Yes, I’ll accept the charges.”

The voice that comes next sucks me right back into the past.

“Hey, baby. Mama missed you.”

After the fifteenth in-person interview is complete, I finally have two competent security professionals assigned to Selena. The security contractor didn’t object to me doing the interviews, but he did object to me bringing in someone who wasn’t on his team.

“We can’t vouch for him, and if something goes down, we won’t be taking responsibility for it.”

“I can vouch for him,” I say, looking over my shoulder at the brick shithouse who barred me from getting backstage in San Antonio.

His name was easy to get, and his background check showed he was a three-tour Army combat vet formerly of the First Infantry Division.

The man proved his character to me when he turned down my money, but I never would have considered letting him near Selena without a clean background check and a personal interview. He was late coming in from San Antonio, and now I’m running late for lunch with Selena.

A check of my watch shows I’m running really fucking late. As in, if I make it back to the bus in ten minutes, I’ll be just in time to tag along to the radio spot.

Glancing at my two new hires, I wave my hand toward the Escalade. “Load up. Your new job starts now.”

When we arrive back at the bus, it’s empty. Chaz, the driver, is smoking a cigarette and shooting the shit with the crew. According to him, Selena left only a few minutes earlier.

We pile back into the Escalade and head for the highway, which is closed. For a goddamn presidential visit.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist against the dash.

“Sorry to say it, boss, but we ain’t gonna make it on time. This ain’t my hood, so I don’t know the back roads like I would if we were in SA.”

Earlier, I handed off the keys to Marcus, aka the brick shithouse. Ironically, he wasn’t trained in evasive driving maneuvers like the other guy I hired, but considering he dodged roadside bombs in a Humvee, I feel pretty comfortable with him behind the wheel. It would remain to be seen who would be driving Selena around when I wasn’t with her.

I scrub a hand over my face.

“Yeah. I know. Shit. By the time traffic clears, she’ll probably already be on her way to the venue.” I glance from Marcus to the guy in the rear of the SUV. “Let’s head back, and I’ll introduce you to her crew first, and then Selena. She might balk, but regardless of what she says, you stick to the plan. You report to me, not her.”

The man in the back nods wordlessly.

From the driver’s seat, I get an altogether different response. “You gonna be up shit creek for being late, boss?”

I think about how I left things with Selena.

“Then kiss me. Mark me. Let him know that I’m absolutely and completely out of his reach because I belong to you.”

I’m not sure I’ll ever forget her words. They’re etched on my brain and have reverberated ever since she spoke them.

When I started down this road, I couldn’t have envisioned ending up in this position. And I’m not talking about the fact that I’m in an Escalade with two bodyguards driving down the side streets of Dallas. I’m talking about the fact that I’m caught up in this woman in a way that I’ve never been with another. It might have started out as purely physical, but I should have whiplash from how fast things have changed.

Leaving her alone with Vale went against all my possessive instincts, but I’m finding that I trust her, which is a new development for me. My last marriage, as short as it was, left me with a healthy distrust of women.

I met Shaw when I purchased a chain of luxury resorts off the auction block. It was founded by her grandfather and then run into the ground by her father before she could take control. She was ambitious, driven, and totally and completely pissed that her family legacy was circling the drain.

I tried to fire her, but she refused to leave, saying she’d work for free if I would just let her stay. I caved, and not only a little because her passion for the business was contagious. Shaw was an amazing leader of people. Charismatic, and also absolutely gorgeous.

I opted to take a personal role in the turnaround, and one thing led to another. We were a great team when it came to business, and more than compatible everywhere else. It made sense, or at least it did when Shaw pitched the idea to me like the skilled businesswoman she was. We were married within six months to the day I met her, and in a moment of generosity, I agreed in the prenup that she could keep the resorts if things didn’t work out.

Three months after the wedding, I realized that the resorts were all she really wanted out of the deal. This was the first and only time I met someone who was a cagier negotiator than I was.

She was in love with someone else the entire time, and viewed me as the quickest and easiest way to reclaim her family legacy. The only thing that kept me from being crazy bitter about the way she coldly ended it was that righteous bitch, karma.

Shaw didn’t end up with everything she wanted, because she lost the guy she truly loved. Apparently he wasn’t the type to swallow the idea of his woman marrying another man. I couldn’t blame the guy, and Shaw has since retreated into her hardnosed businesswoman persona, and the fun, playful side I caught glimpses of never emerged again, as far as I know.

Shortly after the divorce, I discovered that the problem with giving a woman a chain of resorts as a divorce settlement was the growing number of women eager to be the next ex-Mrs. Justin Karas. The line of them grew long and creative, and I didn’t trust a single one.

Marrying Selena was a great way to put a stop to the women desperate for my attention. I’m not proud that entered into my motivations, but I wasn’t going to apologize for anything that got me to this point with this woman.

“Boss?” Marcus prompts, dragging me back to the here and now. “Shit creek?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I’m still figuring her out.”

A mix of a grunt and a chuckle comes from the other man in the car, Orrin Steel, a former SEAL who lost mobility in his left thumb and had to leave his team because of it. He opted to bow out of the Navy completely because he refused to ride a desk.

“You’ll be trying to figure her out for the rest of your goddamn life. Women are a mystery best left unsolved,” he adds.

Marcus erupts into laughter, and I’m still trying to decide if Selena’s going to be pissed. The unfamiliar feeling of anxiety creeps in when I recall how she left only a two-word note before she walked out of my New York penthouse.

“You’d better drive faster,” I say.

Selena climbs on the bus less than an hour after I return, but the initial feeling of relief I have at seeing her is wiped away when I take in the stooped set of her shoulders and pale face.

Flipping my laptop shut, I rise. “What’s wrong?”

She skirts around me and sinks into a chair.

“Just a long day,” she says, her tone defeated.

“Selena.” I only say her name, but it carries a wealth of meaning. I know she’s full of shit, and she knows I know she’s full of shit.

“How do you feel about having a meet-the-parents day?”

Her question catches me off guard, especially because her shot at meeting my parents died the day my mother and father were killed in an attack on the African village where they moved us for their missionary work. It was a story I worked incredibly hard to keep out of the media to this day.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

Her eyes flick up at me from beneath dark lashes, and she says, “My mother may be coming to visit.”

From what she’s said about her mother, this new development shocks the shit out of me.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but only because I couldn’t think fast enough to figure a way out of it.”

“Well, that’s honest.”

“It was the call from jail that threw me off my game.”

“Excuse me?” I repeat.

“If you weren’t sure before that you married white trash, you can rest assured that now you won’t have any doubt. My mama was arrested for breaking and entering into my gran’s house back home. Apparently the sheriff didn’t have my number, so when I called the police station, they filled me in.”

Selena’s voice is weary, and she won’t meet my eyes. “They wouldn’t have even arrested her, but my mama broke up the sheriff’s marriage before she left town by crowing about sleeping with him one night when she was drunk. His wife caught wind of it, and didn’t believe him when he swore he hadn’t. She left him, and he’s never forgiven my mama. He also knew, like everyone in town, that Gran left me everything, including the house. So she had no right to be there at all.”

“And that equates to her coming to visit, how?”

“I had to wire them money to bail her out of jail, and she has nowhere to go—that’s why she was breaking into Gran’s. When she asked to come here, I couldn’t find the word no fast enough in my brain. Don’t worry; she’ll last a day or two, hook up with some roadie—”

Selena sucks in a deep breath and continues in a shakier tone. “And then I won’t see her again until she runs out of the cash she’ll steal from me and anyone else who isn’t guarding their wallet. That’s what happened when she tracked me down at the very beginning of the tour.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

I cross the small living area of the bus, wrap her in my arms, and lift her into my lap as a few tears slip over her lids. I’m so shocked by the change from spitfire to hurt little girl that I have no idea how else to comfort her.

She leans against my shoulder for a beat before pulling back and climbing off my lap. She swipes at her eyes, smearing her mascara, and begins to pace.

“Damn it. I won’t cry over her. I’ve cried over her too many times. She doesn’t deserve any more of my tears. None.”

“I agree. No one deserves your tears.” Not even me, I add silently.

“And then there’s you,” she says.

“Me?” I ask.

Let’s pause for one second and acknowledge the fact that this is a stupid fucking question for a guy to ask a woman at this particular juncture, but it’s out of my mouth before I can call it back.

“Seriously? You stood me up. Again. And my mama, the gold digger, is coming to visit, and I’ll have her yapping in my ear about how I’ll never hold on to you unless I do something magical, like bleach my asshole or vajazzle my cooch, and even then, I’m probably not woman enough to keep a man like you.”

Fuck. Selena’s mother really did a number on her, and that woman will not find herself welcome here to continue the job. There’s no way in hell I’ll let her near Selena. I don’t give a fuck who she is.

“I didn’t expect it to take so long.”

She crosses her arms, and I’ve done enough negotiating to know that her body language says she’s closed off to any kind of reasonable interaction.

“What were you doing anyway?” she demands. When I open my mouth to respond, she holds up a hand, and I pause. “Never mind, you don’t need to tell me. It’s not like this is that kind of marriage anyway.”

The acid in her tone puts my back up. I know she’s pissed and emotional, but her taking swipes at what we’re starting to build here pisses me off.

“And exactly what kind of marriage is this, Selena?” The question is a loaded one.

“We both know it’s not going to last. I’m a passing fancy for you. And in case you’re wondering, I’m not bleaching my asshole to keep you on the hook.”

Her offbeat and slightly twisted sense of humor does the impossible; my pissed-off mood evaporates. I rise from the chair and move toward her, my predatory instincts taking over.

Pinning her to the fridge, I growl, “Not even if I ask nicely and promise to fuck that tight little asshole until you’ve come so many times your pleasure receptors are blown?”

She lifts her gaze to mine and mumbles, “I knew I shouldn’t have said that.”

I smooth the hair away from her face and lower my lips to her ear. “Don’t ever be afraid to say anything to me.”

When Selena doesn’t reply, I pull away and stare down at her. “Selena. Look at me.” I wait until she complies. “If you really believe what you said about this not lasting, then we have a serious problem.”

Her teeth scrape her bottom lip, and she hesitates before asking, “Why?”

I infuse my words with steel, because I want there to be no confusion about the gravity of what I’m saying. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go.”

Her big brown eyes blink twice, and her mouth falls open. The spitfire who faded away for brief moments flares to life again.

“Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my I’ll be waiting in a hotel suite with a prenup and an engagement ring husband?”

I cup her face with both hands, needing the contact. “Things change, Selena. And everything has changed for me because of you. If you haven’t figured that out yet, then I’ll just have to show you.”

“I don’t get you,” she whispers.

I lower my forehead to hers and breathe her in. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve already got me.”

She turns her head, breaking our contact. I drop my hands to my sides, and a shred of doubt filters into me, bringing a completely foreign feeling with it—uncertainty.

I consider crushing my lips to hers until her thoughts are filled with nothing and no one but me, but I also understand the value of backing off and letting her settle so I can return to claim victory another day. With the news of her mom’s arrest and upcoming arrival, not to mention the unrelenting tour schedule, I suspect Selena is teetering on the edge of her breaking point right now, and the last thing I want to do is push her over.

This isn’t about me. This is about her.

Deciding to change gears, I step away and nod toward the bus door.

“Want to meet your new security detail?” I ask.

“Security detail?”

“That’s where I was. Doing personal interviews and reviewing background checks. I needed to make sure that I felt comfortable with them before I could bring them around you. If you have any issues with either of the guys, let me know, and we can replace them. But having said that, I think they’re both solid choices.” I meet her eyes. “I’m willing to trust them with your safety, and believe me when I say that isn’t something I do lightly. At all.”

Her posture relaxes for a fraction of a second, but tenses once more when she asks, “You think they can keep Mama away from me too?”

“Don’t worry about her. I’ll handle that myself.”

The energy from tonight’s show is exactly what I need to shore up my inner reserves. The crowd was amazing, singing along and screaming. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m a vain person, but there’s really nothing like thousands of people chanting your name.

You’d think a girl from Gold Haven, Kentucky, who started off singing karaoke with the smell of fryer grease clinging to her hair and clothes wouldn’t feel perfectly comfortable on a stage in front of ten thousand people, but I do. It’s where I belong. Every time I get up there, it’s with the absolute certainty that this is what I was born to do.

But just thinking about the past reminds me that Mama is coming to visit, and regardless of what Justin says about taking care of her, she’s going to find a way to dig her hooks into me. I just don’t have thick enough armor when it comes to her. I want to call her back and tell her “hell no, I changed my mind,” but I don’t have any way to get in touch with her.

As I’m falling asleep on the bus, curled into Justin’s arms¸ the haze of orgasm steals my filter, and I tell him, “I wish I could turn back the clock and tell my mama to go somewhere else, anywhere else. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her messing with my life again. It never ends well.”

Justin squeezes me against his chest and presses a kiss to my hair. “Go to sleep. You’ve got another long day tomorrow in Biloxi.”

The vibrations from the road and Justin’s steady, even breathing lull me into a dreamless sleep.

The next afternoon, I pull out my phone and check the time for the twentieth time in the last five minutes. Not because I’m worried I’m going to miss the Biloxi meet and greet, but because I keep expecting Mama to come barreling backstage and wreaking havoc like a raccoon sneaking into a house through a chimney.

Justin shoots me a questioning look. “What are you doing? You’re not going to be late, so calm the hell down.”

I suck in a breath and release it slowly, trying to calm my nerves. “It’s not that. It’s Mama. I was hoping I’d get that out of the way early so I could get myself together for the show. I hate this feeling of being on edge.”

Justin’s expression goes blank. “Shit. I forgot to tell you. She’s taken care of.”

I swear, everything in me slams to a halt—my lungs, my heart, the very blood in my veins. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I arranged for her to take a vacation. All expenses paid to Miami. I own a large portion of a resort there, and I figured it would give you the break you need. It was easy enough to get her to agree.”

At his nonchalant announcement, I come unglued. “And you didn’t bother to mention it?” The question comes out as a screech.

He scrubs a hand through his hair, not meeting my eyes. “Fuck, Selena. We’ve been going nonstop today. It slipped my mind.”

“Damn it, Crey. I’ve been dreading this shit all day. You could’ve told me and put me out of my misery.”

I pace the room backstage as I rant. I know I’m overreacting, but Justin doesn’t understand my mama or the stress that comes along with just thinking about her. He watches me pace, letting me vent, which is probably a smart move on his part. Come near the clawing she-beast and you may lose an important appendage, and wouldn’t that be a shame?

After about twenty trips back and forth across the fifteen-foot-wide room, I’ve calmed down a smidge. I chance a look at where Justin is leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, wondering if he’s holding in a laugh for all he’s worth. As I stare for a minute, I realize he isn’t. But I also can’t read what he’s thinking.

“What?” I snap. Okay, so the she-beast isn’t totally pacified yet. I just need to channel the energy into my performance tonight. That I can do.

“You called me Crey,” he says.

I shake my head. “Is there something wrong with that?”

He nods slowly. “That’s what people close to me call me, but you never have before.”

I bite my lip and consider. “So?”

“Nothing. I was surprised, is all.” He waves a hand. “Feel free to continue the tirade.”

From anyone else it might sound patronizing, but Crey just seems to be letting me get it all out. Which is exactly what I need right now. And that realization right there is all it takes to calm me down.

“I’m all tiraded out,” I say, stopping in front of him.

“Then maybe this is a good time to ask you if you’re up for a flight back to New York after the show next Thursday. I know we haven’t really talked about how things are going to work after the tour is over, but I’ve got some things I need to take care of at home in person that I’ve been putting off, and I’d like to have you with me.”

I’ve been dreading the what’s next for us discussion, so my question is tentative. “You get that I don’t want to stay in New York permanently?”

Justin’s expression turns serious. “We’ll figure it out, Selena.”

“Okay. I’ll go.”

His smile is wide and genuine. “I’m glad I’m not going to have to kidnap you then. I really didn’t want to go to the gala alone.”

“Gala?”

“A charity thing. At MoMA.”

When I open my mouth to say that I’m not sure what MoMA is, he says, “Come here.”

I cross the room and stand before him, just out of reach. “We don’t have time for anything dirty right about now.”