#Last chance to be a kid with a cereal box Had a dream in your head but you woke up and lost it

[mikaelasgraveyard]

tbh! 🤨☝️ trashfire - tommy lefroy is simply just real life

[thecameronchronicles]

Cinnamon Toast Crunch

TW: Smut, language, horrible puns ;) 

A silly smutty little fic that’s probably the lightest one I’ll ever write…

SUMMARY: A stolen box of cereal is a last straw for growing tensions. 

WORD COUNT: 1800

Cinnamon Toast Crunch

All you could think about for the last twelve hours had been that familiar taste reaching your palette to silence the craving set foremost on your mind. The thought of consumption was enough to bring every horrible event of this day to seem minimal with a simple bowl of cereal acting as a bandage to your turmoil and tribulations. 

Which was why when you pulled open the chateau’s kitchen cupboard to find the familiar cartoon square bringing a sense of warmth as this had been your comfort food as ice cream or alcohol may have been to others, you found peace in its presence. But as the box came to your touch, you were made well aware of its empty contents. 

“You’re back…” JJ spoke behind you, a plastic sleeve harboring your cereal half consumed by his gluttonous fingers currently pulling a fist full of cereal into his mouth. Your eyes narrowed as this had been the last straw against a series of selfish actions.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

“You…want some?” He asked, mouth half full and therefore muffling his words, as he extended his hand to commit to this offering. When you only sharpened your glare to him, he now set the entire bag in your direction as you hit it away. 

“Goddamn, it’s just cereal-”

“It’s more than the cereal! It’s the fact you always use up all the hot water! The fact you can’t,” You moved to the sink at your back, hitting the handle of an unwashed pan, “be bothered to wash a single dish!” You faced him again, hands thrown up in a mix of annoyance and surrender. 

“You bring your random hook ups here that leave behind the smell of their cheap perfume and slutty underwear-” His eyes would narrow to this specific remark as this seemed more personal than just nitpicking while he believed he understood the reason behind such an outburst, pulling his damned dimples to view that made your heart flutter with just how handsome they made him-not that he needed help. 

“And now you’re laughing at me-”

“I just think it’s interesting, is all-”

“WHAT?!”

He moved into the space dividing you, closing in on you as he leaned close enough for you to smell the cinnamon from his lips. Your eyes made the descent to the part made as he took yet another bite as if to torment you before the narrowing of your own focus sharpened that much more against him. 

“That you’re using the fact I ate your cereal to hide what you really want-”

“And what is it that I want, JJ? Enlighten me? Hot water would be nice…not leaving an empty box around when I’ve been dreaming of that cereal all day! Picking up after yourself-” His jaw cocked as he continued forward still until you were pressed against the counter of the sink, palms clashing against the metal and sending it to echo in a chime. 

“You’re so fucking tense that you’re using me as outlet…” He began to psychoanalyze you, a tactic you’d expect from Pope, but not JJ. 

“There are better ways to do that you know…way more fun too-” You tried to push him away from you, but he only chuckled as he captured your wrists in one sweep of his arm, still holding the bag in the other hand. 

“You want it?” He teased, holding it just out of reach. 

“Come get it…” He smirked, annoying you at the fact the sight of his smile drove the corners of your scowl to mimic him, an instant rejection from your stubbornness having sent it back into hiding. Rolling your eyes as he released you to offer you a chance, you leaned to collect the bag before he used the way you were distracted to angle himself into you, his lips taking yours. But it was only for a moment, as if to test if you were as prepared to cross that line between friends to lovers as he clearly had been. 

“You want it?” He asked again, only this time, his question having nothing to do with the damned cereal. Your eyes took stock of his offer, more fearful to reject him than grant him acceptance as you decided upon the latter, moving your captured lip from between your teeth before lunging against him. An arrogant smile broke the first few attempts to remain connected before the clutch you made against his sleeveless shirt, cut down to his waist on either side, now carried a sincerity as his new focus. 

The hands against your waist quickly lowered to the curve of your ass, taking you to the counter just beside the sink, the sound of clattering dishes doing nothing to steal your attention from anything but each other. Those gluttonous fingertips ate against your feverish skin as he rounded his dominant hand around you to pull you as close to him as possible to feel your effect on him. Meanwhile, you savored the taste of your favorite snack between each and every kiss that quickly altered from desperate pecks to longing French kisses. 

“God dammit…” He grunted into you with a scoff, the reason behind his curse felt against your thigh as your fingers were quick to pull the button from his cargo shorts free so you were able to take him within your hand. Eyes set to him as you pooled spit within your hand, you collected him into a quick series of thrusts while his head came back in pleasure before he was suddenly absent from your motions. 

“YOU need this a bit more than I do-”

“JJ-”

“Don’t worry…I still intend to cum inside this sweet pussy, sweetheart.” He winked, lowering to his knees before taking your legs over each of his shoulders. For a moment, your eyes scanned the available space visible before you for any sign of any of the fellow pogues having been nearby-and much to your relief, nothing but JJ’s negligence was there to witness. 

The heat of his tongue and quick attentiveness to your clit brought you moving into him aggressively, his arm rising over your legs to keep you stilled enough to where he could keep his tempo. Your fingers ran through the luscious blonde locks until pulling in desperation to the feeling of an orgasm approaching you embarrassingly quickly, a detail you knew he wouldn’t let you forget as the smirk against your thigh was validation of this. 

“JJ-please!” You whimpered for him, not exactly sure if it was for him to stop or not to, but the words left in repetition as he now pulled two ringed fingers into you-knuckle deep, driving you closer that edge. 

“So fucking tight…” He breathed, allowing himself a moment of breath, before returning to your clit, with quickened motions matching the acceleration of his fingers. You pressed your lips together as tightly as possible as to not be overheard by anybody within earshot as he would continuously edge you from your release. The beginning tremors of the rush of pleasure would be met with the slowed motions of his tongue or even his retraction as you groaned each time in desperation until finally you’d had enough. 

“Stop teasing me, J!”

“You want to cum?” He asked as you nodded. 

“Then cum…” He lowered back into you, eyes trained to you as this only intensified the moment while he pulled your lower lips into a spread by the use of his fingers before drawing quick lines of devotion to your clit, his fingers moving at an ungodly pace just below those very folds. 

“JJ! Oh my God! FUCK-I’m gonna-I’m cuming!” He nodded into you, moaning before continuing these motions at the sudden rush of a release granted at his lips. Taking you behind his lips in a single swallow, he would use his tongue to clean the mess you’d made before licking his grin and rising back into a stand to observe you as this newfound silence and shuddering acted as a trophy for him.

“So fucking sweet, sweetheart…But now it’s my turn…” He grinned, pulling you back onto your feet with weak stability from the way they still continued to shake, before bending you over the same counter now stained with your slick, before pulling your shorts from your body and teasing you with his weeping cock’s head. 

“You’ve needed this for a while, huh?” He asked as you nodded, looking back at him to observe him sliding into your welcoming heat. 

“Oh fuck-” You both spoke in uniosn, a gasp silencing you as the sound of his thrusts now filled this cataclysmic silence. Each time he pushed beyond your lower lips, the most delicious fulfillment of his thick cock was enough to send you whimpering with the arrival of a second orgasm just out of reach. 

“If I’d known all it took was stealing some cereal to finally get you to moan for me, I’d have done it a long time ago…” He grunted into your ear as you rolled your eyes before gripping onto the sink to your left for desperation as your other hand rounded his naked hip, nails embedding into his golden skin. 

“SHIT!” He expressed behind clenched teeth before rounding his hand to your clit, your body receiving an immediate jolt of overstimulation silenced by the need for a second release, one he was all too eager to give. 

“J!”

“So fucking tense, you’ve got me in a vice, sweetheart…” 

“It’s too much!”

“So is having to wait until now to finally be inside of you…Cum for me…I wanna cum when you do…” He growled at your back, taking his dominant hand at the back of your neck and sending you flush with the counter as his second hand rested on your hip, guiding you and stabilizing you in equal measure. With the absence of his fingers, you rounded your own clit in those familiar circles as he groaned at your back. 

“So fucking sexy…” He exhaled as yoru whimper and mutual clench pulled him to his release via the tremulous spasms of your own. A finalized series of pumps into you ensured joint pleasure as he chuckled against your back, pulling himself out of you and back into his shorts before assisting you to do the same. Pulling the bag back to view, he now held out his hand for you to take a piece, your eyes heavy with the side effect of lust, before finally tasting what you had wanted since the beginning of the day. 

“The taste you can see…” He mimicked the cereal’s slogan while making note of how your thighs were dripping in a mixture of both of your releases, a scoff and eyeroll responsible from his horrible pun. 

“Just imagine if it was Lucky Charms, ‘Magically delicious’-’ He sang the chime in a perfect Irish accent as you threw your head back in annoyance as he continued, “Or cocoa puff- ‘coocoo for cocoa puffs-Although not sure THAT one works…” This continued for the better part of the hour as you’d been returned to that agitation, only now with the sweet taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch worn well into your kiss, giving you yet another reason why it was your favorite…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets

[basic-bitch-alkali]

Last chance to be a kid with a cereal box

Had a dream in your head, but you woke up and lost it

And you only get a few more candles before you're too old

[wcaringthin]

the bottom dropping out of a box you’re carrying. using your last five bucks to treat someone to an ice cream. plaid shirts with the sleeves ripped off. instant ramen and off-brand cereal. second, third, and hundredth chances. the clinging smell of cigarette smoke. blue jeans and yesterday’s t-shirt. dreaming of a better future. an unearned sense of self-confidence. spilling coffee down yourself. faking it ‘til you make it. skating through life with a wink and a smile. refusing to stay down. always looking for a silver lining. a pile of bills marked ‘final notice’.

statistics.

full name:  andrew colm mclaughlin nickname(s): drew, andy name meaning:  strong and manly (lol) age:  twenty-seven date of birth:  october 8th star sign:  libra place of birth: indianapolis, indiana current location: hawkins, indiana gender:  cis-male pronouns:  he/him sexual orientation:  pansexual religion:  catholic, but not really occupation:  bartender at the hideaway while it lasts family:  francis “frank” collins (father), mairead mclaughlin (mother) siobhan “shiv” mclaughlin (sibling) finn mclaughlin (brother) education level: high school sophomore (dropped out) living arrangements:  lives at the forest hills trailer park with his siblings financial status:  poor spoken languages:  english

inspirations.

nick wilde (zootopia) ferris bueller (ferris bueller’s day off) doug judy (brooklyn 99) the hustler kid (recess) lip gallagher (shameless) jason mendoza (the good place) clint barton (marvel comics)

biography. (parental neglect, abandonment)

Some people aren’t supposed to be parents. That fact would immediately become clear on meeting Frank Collins and Mairead McLaughlin; two people that barely had control over their own lives, let alone that of the newborn they now had to care for.

The family (if you could call it that) relocated to Hawkins from Indianapolis when Drew was three years old, taking up residence at the Forest Hill trailer park, since it was all they could afford. Drew’s parents were rarely home at the same time, and if they were, they were either arguing or... making up. 

When Drew’s first sibling arrived, he was beside himself. He loved having a little buddy to hang out with all the time, even if they were kind of boring at first, because they mostly just slept and pooped. He quickly developed a talent for making baby Shiv laugh, crossing his eyes and pulling funny faces until they stopped crying. He knew how to change a diaper and mix formula before he was five.

Starting school was a challenge. He didn’t like being away from Shiv, and found it difficult to get his head around learning letters and numbers, because god knows his parents didn’t give him much of a framework to go off. He compensated for this by being the loudest voice in the classroom, always ready with a joke and a smile, something to distract people or make them like him.

Frank finally split for good a few weeks after his youngest son, Finn, arrived, and Mairead was already well on her way to checking out entirely. The McLaughlin siblings could often be found wandering around town by themselves: a seven year old boy pushing a baby in a too-large pram with one hand, while a sticky three year old clung to the other. Drew was doing his best to keep his siblings together, and was already a prolific liar, fending off the concerns of other adults with a wave and a smile.

His money-making schemes started early. He took to shoplifting candy and toys from the dollar store, and selling them back to his classmates at a mark up on the playground. When he got caught, he got in a lot of trouble, but it had only been a week, and he’d already made over fifty bucks. It seemed like a fortune to a ten year old, and his path was set.

Mairead vanished the year Drew turned sixteen. He reasoned it didn’t matter all that much, since he was already basically raising his siblings, and he thought they’d probably be a lot happier without having to worry about their mom all the time. He dropped out of high school after finishing his sophomore year, deciding it was more important to dedicate his time to generating some income.

Since then, Drew has been employed at virtually every establishment in town. Each job only ever seems to work out for a few months at a time before something goes wrong and he ends up back where he started. He means well, but he’s not good at anything, and his continued attempts at side-hustles invariably end up getting him into trouble.

He doesn’t really consider himself a criminal, but he’s definitely done some things of questionable legality in the name of trying to support his family. He has been known to steal, and has been an on-and-off drug dealer since high school.

It’s kind of ironic that when the earthquake hit, the McLaughlins’ home was one of the few that survived the destruction of the trailer park. They had so little to lose, even in comparison with their neighbours, that they may have been better equipped to deal with the change in circumstances - but their trailer was miraculously untouched.

All this to say, Drew McLaughlin is a loser. He won’t give up though - one day, he’s gonna make the big time, and everything’s gonna be different. Maybe it’s not his weekend, but it’s gonna be his year!

other things.

drew idolises bruce springsteen. it’s no accident that he dresses the way he does.

he has fallen prey to at least two multi-level marketing schemes in his life. he doesn’t want to talk about it.

his favourite flavour of ice cream is cherry garcia. he goes to scoops ahoy! insisting it’s his birthday every three months or so, relying on staff turn over so he won’t get caught out.

there was a brief period where drew was selling bootleg video tapes. you may own a copy of ‘a stir is barn’, ‘saturday knight fervour’ or ‘plant of the apes’.

drew walks everywhere. never learning to drive is probably the only thing he really regrets, but it’s so expensive!

he has the words ‘never back down’ tattooed on his bicep, and a wonky stick-and-poke smiley face that he did himself on his ankle. 

this is his second time working at the hideaway. he begged the owner to take him back after the earthquake, because the grind never stops. 

he’d rather be barefoot than wear shoes. this is probably because he hasn’t had a new pair in about five years, and the old ones hurt his feet.

[cdelphiki]

Kid Jason and Bruce bonding over cars, 5k words of fluff, no archive warnings apply.

“Good morning, lad,” Alfred said, one Saturday morning just as Jason stepped into the kitchen, “What would you like for breakfast?”

He’d skipped ‘family’ breakfast in favor of sleeping in, which Alfred had said multiple times was perfectly acceptable. He was 12, after all, and needed his sleep. 

With a smile, Jason started crossing the kitchen, over to the pantry, as he said, “Hi, Alfred. I was just gonna get some cereal.”

“Then help yourself, lad.”

Despite saying ‘help yourself,’ Alfred both got him a bowl and the milk out, but otherwise let Jason pour himself the cereal. He then traded Jason the milk for a spoon before going back to whatever he was preparing before. Kinda looked like bread. He was kneading dough, whatever it was.

“What’s Bruce doing in the garage?” Jason asked, after he’d watched Alfred for a few minutes and got through half his bowl of cereal.

Alfred rolled the dough up into a loaf shape and dropped it down into a glass pan as he said, “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

He didn’t even look over, but Alfred must have heard Jason frown, or something, because he then asked, “You like cars, don’t you?”

“Well yeah,” Jason stammered. He did like cars, but why did that mean he had to go ask Bruce what he was doing? “I just don’t want to bother him.”

Bruce was obviously doing work or something. He had spent almost the whole week working, and then had to take Jason out yesterday, so he probably had stuff he had to get done around the house, right? With… the tools.

“You won’t be bothering him,” Alfred said, like he thought it was impossible for Jason to bother Bruce, “I’m sure he will be more than happy to tell you about the work he’s doing on his cars.”

So he was doing work then.

Just… on his cars…

Jason looked down into his bowl and scooped out his last bite of cereal, contemplating whether he would go bother Bruce.

On the one hand, Bruce had said he would show Jason his cars if he just asked.

But on the other… he didn’t know. Things were good with Bruce so far, he was kind of scared if he bothered Bruce too much, he’d ruin it.

But as soon as Jason set his bowl back down, after finishing off the milk, Alfred walked over and took it, saying, “Go on, lad.”

And, well. Jason was supposed to listen to Alfred, right?

Back at the door to the garage, though, Jason hesitated. Bruce was back rummaging through the toolbox, but his Volkswagen was moved out to the middle of the floor, out of its normal parking spot in the line of cars away from the doors.

He didn’t turn around, though, when Jason hesitatingly pulled the door open and stepped down onto the the little set of three stairs that led to the garage floor. It wasn’t until he found whatever it was, it looked like a funnel from where Jason was standing, did he turn around and notice Jason.

“Hey, bud,” he said, as he pulled a little earbud out of his ear, “what’s up?”

“Alfred said I should come see what you were doing.”

Bruce nodded and put his little earbud in a case on the work bench as he said, “Oh, well I’m changing the oil on the cars today.”

“All of them?” Jason surveyed the garage and couldn’t help but think doing something like that would take ages.

“Most of them,” Bruce nearly hummed, as he opened the driver’s door to the Volkswagen and leaned inside. A second later, the hood popped.

Jason hopped down the last two steps and walked over toward one of the lines of cars, the one with the red lambo he’d been drooling over every time he was in the garage. He hadn’t had a chance to actually look at it, though. Because every time he was in the garage, Bruce was ushering him someplace or another.

Bruce peeked over at him, but didn’t say anything when Jason put his hand down on the hood of the car. It was gorgeous. Shiny and flawless. Not a single scratch on it anywhere Jason could see.

It was obvious it was taken care of, but Jason would have never thought Bruce did the work.

“Don’t you have people for that?” Jason asked, as Bruce opened the hood on the Volkswagen and propped it open like he’d done it a million times.

With seventy-four cars, he probably had done it a million times.

“Have you seen people around here I’m not aware of?” Bruce asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he checked the car’s oil, using the little stick thing. Jason had never actually seen someone do that before. Mostly because his parents hadn’t owned a car. He’d seen people do that on TV and stuff, though.

“No one’s mechanic lives with them,” Jason scoffed, turning fully from the Lamborghini to watch Bruce. Although Jason wouldn’t put it past a rich weirdo with a million cars to have a live-in mechanic.

Bruce huffed, what Jason assumed was a laugh, but he said, “I’m my own mechanic,” as he started messing with something in the car. Jason was kinda curious what.

“Why?”

“Is it so wrong I have a hobby?” Bruce asked, looking up at Jason finally.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Jason answered with a shrug, “You’re rich.” Rich people had hobbies there were like, horses. Horses and… well. Jason didn’t actually know, outside of illegal stuff, obviously.

“I like working on my own cars,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his tool box and slipped on some gloves, “At least, on the cars I can work on. Some of these are just easier to bring to the dealership.”

“Really? Why?” Jason asked, looking back around at all the cars. Bruce actually had about ten cars, mostly sport cars, “Which ones?”

“It’s all the computer systems in the newer cars, I don’t feel like owning the equipment for every single car, especially if I don’t drive that car much, anyway. And cars like the Tesla you have to get parts for on the blackmarket, and it’s far more trouble than it’s worth.”

With a slight grin, Jason asked, “So you’re saying you don’t buy stuff from the black market,” as he pointed to himself when Bruce looked over. Regardless of his intentions, Bruce had exchanged money for him. Which was technically buying a child on the blackmarket.

Bruce just rolled his eyes, though, and said, “I try not to.”

“Why do you own like ten cars?” Jason asked, as he started inspecting the other cars in the line he was at. Next to the Lamborghini was a sleek black sports car and Jason was pretty sure was a corvette. He really needed to study the symbols on cars more. It was a little ‘V’ on the hood, so he was like, 98% sure.

“There’s only nine here and one is Alfred’s,” Bruce said, like that made a difference, “and I like cars. They’re fun to collect.”

“Do you actually drive them all? You always pick the Tesla when we go anywhere.” Or that one time the Volkswagen.

Although maybe Bruce brought the sports cars out on his dates or whatever he did at night. Jason had never watched him leave or anything.

Bruce leaned back over the Volkswagen’s engine compartment as he said, “I try to drive each one at least once a month, even if it’s just around the block.”

“Oh,” he said, shoving his hands into his hoody pocket. He was wearing his Wayne Enterprises one, since he’d sweated all over the Batman one.

Maybe Bruce was right and he needed a summer hoody or something, because it was hot in the garage, too. Since the door was open to the outside and all…

Jason walked over to the open garage door and leaned back against the threshold between inside and outside and asked, “How often do you do this?” as he motioned at everything inside the garage.

“Every six months,” Bruce said, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his t-shirt sleeve. Then he stood up and looked straight as Jason as he asked, “Do you want to help?”

“What?” Help?

Bruce would actually let Jason help?

“Come here,” Bruce motioned with his head for Jason to come over, “I’ll show you what I’m doing.”

Jason pushed off the wall and took an aborted step forward as he asked, “Really?” Couldn’t he like, fuck up the car horribly??

Why would Bruce want him to help?

“Of course, this is a good skill to know. One day you’ll have a car of your own to take care of.”

“I will?” Jason asked, a little dazed as he did cross the garage to where Bruce was working.

Not many people owned cars, where he was from. He’d never actually dreamed that one day he’d own a car.

But maybe he should have. Because… if he got a real job, like doctor or lawyer or something, then he’d have enough money to buy one.

And if he did that, he’d probably need one to get to work and stuff.

“Of course,” Bruce said, like he hadn’t even thought the opposite. Once Jason had fully approached the car, and inched up to the side of the engine compartment, across from Bruce, he said, “Okay, tell me what all you know about cars.”

“Uh,” Jason stammered. He didn’t know much about cars, in the grand scheme of things. He’d only recently been able to research them! “Well. I know that’s the engine,” he continued, pointing to where the engine was, hiding under a cover, “And it has, uh, cylinders and pistons…”

He trailed off, but when he looked back up at Bruce, Bruce was smiling brightly, like Jason had said the right thing, so he tried to return the smile.

“Great, you already know more than most drivers,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his workbench. He grabbed a pair of gloves and held them out for Jason as he said, “Engines have oil in them we need to change, to make sure it’s staying clean. Dirty oil damages the engine, which can cause some serious problems. Engines also burn off oil, so changing it ensures we’re keeping enough in there for the engine to work properly.”

Jason listened attentively as he rolled his sleeves up and pulled the gloves on. Bruce went to on explain how they were going to get the old oil out, replace it, and change the oil filter. He’d known kind of vaguely the basics of all that, but he’d never heard it be explained in detail.

Bruce walked him through everything, and even let Jason do some of the work. Like pull out the old oil filter and insert the oil extractor down into the car. Bruce took a step back once he showed Jason what to do, and even let Jason extract all the oil. By himself.

It was actually super easy. No wonder Bruce did his own oil changes.

While Jason was watching the oil slowly drain from the engine and into the extractor, Bruce went and got two huge bottles of oil off the shelf, which was stocked with, like, twenty bottles of the stuff.

“That much?” It looked like he had two gallons of oil, or more. Probably more. The bottles were bigger than milk jugs.

“Yes,” Bruce said, as he set the two bottles on the ground next to the extractor, “This car needs almost six quarts.”

Jason had no idea how much that was, because who measured shit in quarts?? But he nodded and watched from the side of the car as Bruce took the extractor out and slipped the funnel in, then poured the entirety of one of the bottles in.

It wasn’t until he started pouring in the second bottle did Bruce say, “Okay, I need you to pull the dip stick out and check the level.”

Jason bounced back around to the front of the car, so he could reach the dip stick. Bruce stepped to the side, further out of the way, but couldn’t go too far since he was still holding the bottle over the funnel, but it was fine. Jason could reach it just fine.

“Pull it out and wipe it off,” Bruce explained, when Jason located the dip stick, “then dip it back in. That will give you an accurate reading.”

Nodding, Jason grabbed the rag Bruce had set next to the dip stick and did exactly as told. Once he had the ‘accurate’ reading he held it up into the sun and squinted at it, trying to figure out if he was supposed to be able to tell if it was low. “Uh, it’s below the bottom dot.”

“That means we don’t have enough in there. You want the oil between the two dots.”

“Ah.” Jason nodded, and watched as Bruce poured more into the engine, a little at a time.

Each time he had Jason check the levels again, until the line was almost all the way to the top dot. Once it was, Bruce nodded contentedly and said, “That’s good enough,” and put the bottle of oil back down on the ground, “Now we just have to put the new filter in and we’re done.”

Doing that was a piece of cake. It was basically just the reverse as removing it. Then Bruce had Jason put the engine cover on by himself and they were done.

Just like that.

“Great job,” Bruce said, as he removed the stick holding the hood open, then motioned for Jason to step back so he could drop it shut. Jason jumped when the hood slammed closed, but then smiled when Bruce added, “You’re a pro already.”

“This is some people’s job,” Jason said, as he stepped back into the sunlight, shining in through the open garage door behind him, where he could get a good look at all of Bruce’s cars.

“It sure is,” Bruce said, “Mechanics is a very good field to go into. We’ll always have a need for mechanics.”

“Unless all the rich assholes start doing it themselves,” Jason said, walking along the edge of the driveway, toward the other row of cars on the other side of the garage.

Bruce huffed as he peeled his gloves off and tossed them over at the work bench. “If I crashed one of these,” he said, walking back to the Volkswagen with the key in his hand, “or the engine failed or something drastic, I’d let a mechanic fix it. I just do the routine, easy things.”

“Oh.” Jason supposed that made sense. It probably wasn’t fun if it was super tedious or whatever.

While Bruce started up the Volkswagen and backed it up into its spot, in the row of cars across the way from Jason, he wandered down the new row of vehicles.

All of the cars Bruce or Alfred drove the most were closer to the door to the Manor, so that’s where the Tesla and Bentley were. On this side was some cars Jason didn’t even recognize. He’d need to do a lot of research on fancy-ass sports cars to figure them out, too.

That was, until he stopped on the last car in the row and recognized the SRT logo on the side of the grille.

“No way,” he whispered to himself, as he circled the car.

There was no way it was what he thought it was.

He’d just seen a documentary… or four… about this car three days ago. It was an expensive car, sure, but not like million dollars expensive. It wasn’t even 100k, if he remembered right. He hadn’t been expecting Bruce to have one.

Then again, Bruce owned a Volkswagen. And this was an awesome car.

“You like that one?” Bruce asked, from across the garage.

“Is this a Hellcat?” Jason asked, before he cupped his hands around his eyes so he could try to peek inside. Sadly the tinted windows were too dark, though, so he stood back up and looked over at Bruce.

And Bruce looked… delighted. That was the only way Jason could describe it. He looked delighted.

“It sure is.”

“Dude,” Jason exclaimed, excitement bubbling up in him so quickly he felt like he would burst, “No way! What year is it? Does it really have a red key? How fast does it go? Why don’t you drive this one everywhere!”

Bruce grinned probably the most genuine grin Jason had ever seen but he couldn’t even though about it, because holy shit. He was right!!!

This was like, one of his favorite cars ever.

He’d watched four different documentaries, all on youtube, all because of the red key and how the regular black key governed the engine but the red key unlocked over seven hundred horse power.

And besides being so fucking cool that a car could go so fast, it was such a funny image, picturing seven hundred horses pulling a car.

Bruce walked over to the key lock box, up near the door to the manor, and put his Volkswagen key away. Before he shut it, though, he pulled out a bright red key and Jason just about lost it.

“Oh my God, that’s so cool.”

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Bruce asked, holding the key up, but not yet crossing the garage.

“Are you serious?” Jason asked. Bruce unlocked the doors in answer, so Jason exclaimed, “Yes!” and quickly rounded to the passenger side to open the door and look inside.

The first thing that hit him was the new car smell.

Such a wonderful, beautiful smell. Probably one of his favorites.

“This is so cool,” he whispered, in hushed awe as he slipped into the passenger seat.

There was a backseat, but there was almost no windows back there, and barely any space, and he wanted to see. Not be trapped and blind to everything happening. So Jason buckled himself into the passenger seat and just hoped Bruce wouldn’t make him move.

But Bruce just walked around to the driver door, smiling softly as he slid in and buckled himself in. “Feeling good?” he asked, as he dropped the key into the cup holder.

Good????

Jason was fucking ecstatic.

“Are you gonna go fast?”

In answer, Bruce pressed down on the brake and pressed the start button, then revved the engine loudly.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Jason said under his breath, trying not to grin too wide when Bruce put the car in drive and slowly pulled out of the parking spot.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Bruce said. Jason didn’t even have enough time to agree, though, before Bruce lined the car up with the garage door and then gunned it.

Mostly because Jason was too busy laughing, watching the trees and bushes that lined the driveway speed by.

He only had to slow down a little for the gate, because somehow he told it to start opening before they got anywhere near it.

“You’re gonna get pulled over,” Jason said, through his laughter as Bruce hit 60 MPH out on the road outside the estate. On a road with a speed limit of 20.

“Probably,” Bruce agreed, obviously not caring one bit as he shifted gears and started going faster.

The car only his 70, though, before he slowed down to come to a stop sign at the end of their long, semi-private road.

“Okay, we have a couple options here,” Bruce said, looking over at Jason, “There’s a high school with a large parking lot we can play in, or there’s an industrial area with a network of roads that are deserted on Saturdays. Which do you think sounds better?”

Jason fidgeted in his chair, but asked, “Which one can you go faster on?”

“The industrial complex,” Bruce said, immediately turning the car to the left and zipping off again.

Bruce did keep the speed down, though, as they drove through all the little neighborhoods. Which was probably good, because Jason saw a few kids playing in their yards, and hitting a kid would probably be super bad.

But it only took a couple minutes before they were suddenly staring at a wide open straight road.

A huge wide open straight road, with four lanes running in either direction.

Obviously it was meant for tons and tons of traffic, but true to Bruce’s word, it was completely deserted.

“This was built up to be a large industry area,” Bruce explained, as he pulled onto the road and came to a stop right in the middle of it, “and there ended up being only two companies to move here. It’s one of my favorite places to play with a car.”

“It looks like a race track,” Jason observed, leaning forward in his seat so he could see over the dash, at the brake marks on the street right in front of them.

“It’s used as one. Ready?”

Quickly, Jason sat back in his seat again and nodded enthusiastically.

He was so ready.

Bruce smiled and put one hand on the wheel, the other on the clutch, then floored it.

Jason it thrown back into the seat hard, they accelerated so fast.

And all Jason could do was laugh.

Bruce treated the road like it’s a race track, circling it several times, making the car slide sometimes in his turns, the tires squealing as he did, every single time making Jason laugh harder.

It was the coolest fucking thing Jason had ever done.

They drove for nearly half an hour, Bruce driving around some of the smaller roads around the big huge buildings, and even doing a donut in the middle of a parking lot. Jason just knew that had to be terrible for the tires, but it was so cool to do.

So, so cool.

But eventually, Bruce did turn back to the manor, and by then, Jason’s stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

“You like this car, huh?” Bruce said, once they were going slow again, back through the neighborhoods with the kids.

“This is like, my dream car, dude,” Jason said, sitting back up to look at all the buttons on the dash. He hadn’t paid much attention to any of them. “Or, well, one of them.”

He had technically just learned about it a few days before, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t instantly become a dream car.

Bruce held a hand out, motioning at the radio as if saying ‘go ahead, mess with it,’ so Jason did.

He pressed all the buttons.

“Why is a Hellcat one of your dream cars?” Bruce asked, after Jason had figured out how to work the radio and was flipping through the seventy-billion satellite channels.

“I watched a bunch of youtube videos about these the other day,” he said, “I thought they were so cool with the red key. And badass looking too. I didn’t know you had one.”

“What are your other dream cars?” Bruce asked, as he grabbed the red key from the cup holder and held it out for Jason to take.

Happily, Jason took it and started inspecting it, looking at all the buttons in it, before he found a little switch that released the actual key from inside.

Although, obviously the car didn’t need the key. It needed the chip inside the key, that told the computer it was present.

“There’s a lot,” Jason eventually said, as he kept playing with the key. He couldn’t really think of car names, though. “I’ve seen a lot of really cool cars. I just never got to research them until, ya know. You gave me a laptop and stuff.”

“Right,” Bruce said, slowly, “What have you been researching on your laptop?”

“I saw an episode of some show about Roush Mustangs,” Jason said, as he dropped the key back into the cupholder and pulled his legs up on the seat, to sit criss crossed, “those look cool. Although your lambo is way cooler. Your Tesla is awesome, too. I always wanted to see a Tesla in person, then you had one.”

“The Tesla is my favorite commuter car,” Bruce said, as he shifted gears and sped up, now they were back on the semi-private road that led to the manor, “but almost all my other cars are more fun to drive.”

Jason nodded. He could see that, since the Tesla literally drove itself. “This one looks so fun to drive.”

“Tell you what,” Bruce said, once he reached the gate to the manor. This time, he had to come to a complete stop and type in his code and do the eye thing, “If you’re still here when you’re 15, I’ll tech you to drive on this car.”

“What?” Jason said, a little stunned. Because, “really??” He hadn’t even… thought that far ahead.

Not like that, at least. He’d only thought about getting through living with Bruce until he was 18, so he could move out and go to college.

But obviously if he was going to make it to 18, that would mean being here when he was 15 or 16, and…. well. That was when kids were supposed to learn to drive.

Why would he have ever thought Bruce would do that, though?? Teach him to drive??

That was what parents were supposed to do for their kids, and Jason was just a foster kid Bruce got stuck with, because Gordon made Bruce take him.

But, but, but… Bruce said he cared about him… so…

“With the red key?” Jason eventually asked, as Bruce pulled the car into the garage, and started slowly backing it up into its spot.

He paused, however, to give Jason a flat look as he said, “No.” He couldn’t hold the face, though, because he started laughing and added, “No way, with the regular key.”

“Aw.”

Although he supposed 500 horsepower was nothing to sneeze at.

“But,” Bruce said, “I might let you test out the red key, once you prove you’re a good driver.”

“Really?” Jason asked, sitting up straighter in his seat, trying to gauge Bruce’s sincerity.

He didn’t look like he was lying, so Jason cheered, “All right! I can’t wait to be 15.”

“Why don’t you focus on turning 13, first,” Bruce said, cutting the car off.

“Fine,” Jason whined, collapsing back into his seat dramatically. He righted himself quickly, though, to unfasten his seatbelt and hop out. “That was so cool, though.”

Bruce got out of the car himself, and just watched with a smile as Jason bounced up to the front of the car, to look at it and all the bugs they picked up.

Poor bugs, they didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Jason whirled around, a second later, when Alfred cleared his throat from the manor door.

“If you gentlemen are done, lunch has been waiting for you for quite a while. Do come eat it before it gets any colder.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” Jason said, at the same time Bruce said, “Sure thing, Alf.”

Alfred quickly retreated, so Jason turned to Bruce and asked, “Is he mad at us?”

“Nah.” Bruce shut his door and started walking to the manor door, but stopped when Jason didn’t start moving in step. “He’s not mad, Jason. That’s the face he makes when he’s very happy and doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t quite sure why Alfred would be ‘very happy,’ but Jason wouldn’t complain about that.

Bruce took a step forward, so this time Jason followed along, and stopped on the steps as Bruce put the key back in the box.

“You’re really going to teach me how to drive on that?” he asked, pointing back at the Hellcat. He kind of had a hard time believing it.

“Yes, I promise,” Bruce said, smiling when Jason shot him a grin.

“All right!” Jason cheered, grinning so wide his face started hurting again. “No take backs, okay?” he said, holding his fist out toward Bruce, “Fist bump.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to be startled, apparently, because he looked at Jason’s fist like he had no idea what to do as he said, “What?”

“You’re hopeless,” Jason groaned, slouching dramatically before he straightened up and reached for one of Bruce’s hands. “Look, it’s easy.”

Bruce lifted his hand cautiously, and let Jason forced his fingers to form a fist as he said, “Make a fist. There. Okay, now pound it.” Jason make his own fist again and bumped it against Bruce’s hand, grinning wide again. “There. No take backs, we fist bumped.”

“Uh, yes,” Bruce said, like he couldn’t figure out what to fucking say. His smile grew wide, though, and then morphed into something fonder. “I swear it, no take backs.”

Jason fidgeted, under Bruce’s stare, so he quickly pushed open the door as he said, “Come on. Alfred said lunch is getting cold.”

He didn’t want to think about whatever Bruce was thinking.

They’d just had a freaking awesome time, Jason was not about to ruin it. No sir.

So he skipped on ahead, to the kitchen where Alfred had a couple paninis sitting on the counter, and just focused on the fact that Bruce was going to teach him to drive.

In the Hellcat.

All because Jason liked the car.

How fucking awesome was that????

This is chapter 46 of Reclaiming Innocence, slightly edited to read as a one-shot. Link to story can be found on my masterlist. 

[reputationmunson]

Right Where You Left Me

Summary: During a rough patch in their relationship, reader gives Spencer one last chance to make things right

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst w/ a (somewhat) hopeful ending

Content Warning(s): Breakup, swearing, mention of food, mention of alcohol, allusion to depression (Please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hi, everyone! This is my first fic and I hope you enjoy it! I wrote this in about an hour after listening to “Right Where You Left Me” by Taylor Swift, so it’s not the best and a bit rushed but I’m excited about it! 

I sit in the dimly lit restaurant, patiently waiting for him to show up and prove me wrong. Prove to me he still wanted me as much as he did when we first met. Ten minutes turned into twenty minutes and before I knew it, an hour had passed. I was still alone looking at the empty seat across from me, imagining he was sitting there looking at me with that doe-eyed look and a smile upon his face. I found myself slightly smiling at the fantasy before I was interrupted by the waitress.

 “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if you don’t order something we’re going to have to ask you to leave. Are you still waiting on someone?” I gave a small chuckle before replying “Uh- no, I’m sorry. I’ll take the check to pay for the wine.” “Don’t worry, it’s taken care of.” She gives me a pity smile. 

He left me. He actually left me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though, things had been different for almost a year. We were less intimate, he was sleeping on the couch or at the office, and whenever he looked at me he no longer had that sparkle in his eye that always reassured that he would love me forever.I never would have guessed our forever would be this short lived. I shamefully walk out of the restaurant and I’m so embarrassed that all these people witnessed me getting stood up by a man I never thought could make me feel this way. 

How am I supposed to go back to our shared home? Would he be there? Maybe he got off work too late and is waiting to surprise me with flowers? My anticipation was too much to handle and I press the gas pedal with a bit more pressure, hanging on to the last string of hope I had. Unfortunately, my instincts were a bit off as I walk into what was once our happy home that was always filled with love and laughter that I never thought would end and now there was just an empty feeling. 

It’s colder than usual and without him, it already no longer felt like home. Spencer is, was, my home. I need to be in his arms. He was the only one that could put me together and he’s the one that is fucking breaking me. I don’t remember who I was before him besides a girl who had never been loved the way he loved me. The love you read about wasn’t something I believed in until I met him and now I’m right back to square one. 

I walk back to our bedroom to change into something more comfortable, but I stop when I see a piece of paper folded on the bed. I feel the tears forming before I even open it up. This was the last thing he touched and the last piece I have of him. It feels so delicate in my hand like it’s made of glass. I dread reading this. Our story is ending with a single piece of paper that lies in my hand. I take a deep breath and work up the courage to read the inevitable. 

Y/N, I’m a coward. I couldn’t even face you tonight to give you the proper closure you deserve. You deserve someone who is able to give you that, and so much more. While I was packing, I noticed your red dress was off the hanger and I’m assuming that’s what you wore tonight. That was always my favorite dress on you. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. I need you to know that I never have stopped, and probably never will stop, loving you. Sadly, love isn’t enough sometimes and I wish it really fucking was. Don’t think for a single second any of this is your fault. I could go on and on about how you deserve more than me, but I know you and you would fight me on that statement until you were blue in the face. I could write forever, but I should get going. I left you that cardigan of mine you like so much, the one I wrapped around you our first date. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but please never forget me. -Yours, Spencer. 

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

I still think about it everyday. I think about him everyday. Five years later it still hasn’t escaped my mind. But, on the bright side, I only think about it for about half of the day instead of letting it consume my entirety. I felt pathetic. Everyone in my life was married, having kids, or getting promoted and here I was still holding onto this false dream that he would come back to me. I pretended that I moved on. I even lied about going on dates. What was the point? I already had the greatest love I could ask for. I would rather be alone right now than try to recreate what I had with Spencer with some stranger. 

I distract myself with the music on the radio, considering thinking of Spencer while driving was about as dangerous as driving while intoxicated. Moments later, I’m pulling into the grocery store. Maybe I’ll meet someone new here. The love of my life could be right under my nose, but I wouldn’t even know because I’m stuck in a delusion. 

I stroll the the cereal isle and laugh quietly at myself, realizing that the most exciting thing this week was trying a new flavor of cheerios. “This works” I whisper to myself as I throw the box in my cart and make my way down the isle. 

“Y/N?” I stop in my tracks. I know that voice. It’s the voice that never leaves my thoughts. I can’t turn around. Is he actually here? He can’t be. What are the odds of this happening? I bet he would actually know the statistics on that. I put on a fake smile and turn around. “Spencer! It’s been what? Five years? How are you?” I think I might be overdoing the friendliness. “Yeah five years, two months, and eight days.” He nervously laughs. “Still have that big brain, I see. And who’s this?” I was so distracted by his presence I didn’t even notice the literal child sitting in the shopping cart. 

“This is my son, Oliver, like the Charlemagne Knight from the twelfth century poem, Chanson de Roland. He’s turning two next month.” He smiles at his son in awe. “It’s my weekend with him. My ex and I are trying the whole shared parenting thing. It’s hard to be away from him” He continues. “I’m sorry to hear about your separation. I hope the note you left her was different from mine” I cringe as the words leave my mouth. “Sorry. Bad joke.” I add, causing us to laugh through the tension. “Ouch. I -uh- guess I deserve that” He looks down and shakes his head. “I should get going. It was nice to see you, Spence. I’m glad you’ve found happiness.” 

“Maybe we could grab coffee and truly catch up.I still have your number, unless you’ve changed it.” I shake my head in response to his last statement. “Um, yeah, that would be nice. Just don’t ask for your cardigan back” I joke and immediately regret letting him know I’ve held onto it all these years. “Of course not. You always looked better in my clothes than I did.” “Goodbye, Spencer.” It’s the last thing I say. I turn around and try my hardest to keep my composure. 

“Y/N, wait.” I turn back and meet his eyes once again. I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or if the sparkle in his eyes is back. “What about you? Are you happy?” There is a sincerity in his voice. “Yeah. I am.” I lie, hoping it was convincing enough for him to not question it and we went our separate ways after sharing a final smile.

My mind is having a thousand thoughts a minute. Spencer had a baby. Not only did Spencer have baby, he had another relationship. I didn’t expect him to wait around like I was, but I really didn’t expect to get hit with all this at once. All the things I wanted, needed, with him had already happened with someone else. He had moved on with his life and I was still right where he left me. 

[nora-durst]

no offense but do you ever just press your hands to your thighs as if you could protect them from the thoughts that you've had that conspire against them even though you need them to get by, last chance to be a kid with a cereal box had a dream in your head but you woke up and lost it and you only get a few more candles before you're too old to try again, to be a wreck, to get the sympathy of friends who see that you're not there yet, but they say that you'll get there, and then all of a sudden you're a bad liar cause you said that it would get better but all of a sudden it's a trashfire and you can't put it out, can't put it out, all of a sudden you're a hostage to things you thought you wanted, all of a sudden you're a hot mess and you can't sweat it out, can't sweat it out…

[badassbuchanan]

No Goodbye Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: angst, cringe, mentions of grieving, soft!bucky

Word Count: 7474

A/N: I’m sorry for the poor quality of this, pls don't hate me

“Bucky, you know I have to do this.” Steve pressed his lips together as he looked sympathetically over at Bucky. His decision wasn’t an easy one, and his best friend trying to change his mind was only making it harder. “I’m leaving her with my best pal.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly, witnessing the distress on his face, what Steve was asking him to do was huge. “It’s gunna be okay, Buck.”

Bucky sighed, trusting that Steve knew what was best as he wrapped his arms around his friend to say goodbye. “No matter what happens, she can never find out the truth, Buck.”

Bucky woke himself from the memory, the small strips of sunlight bleeding through the blind, the feminine smell of the sheets reminding him he wasn’t in his own bed. He quickly pushed his body to sit up, leaning on his metal hand that had pressed into the mattress, his heart racing as he scanned the room.

He sighed sadly as the overwhelming reminder of keeping a secret from the girl who had given herself to him last night took over. The world seemed a little brighter, but his thoughts stopped him from enjoying what should’ve been a peaceful morning.

His heart sunk as he ran his flesh hand through his unkept hair, seeing no sign of the girl he’d fallen asleep holding. There was a cold space where her body should’ve been, his eyes squeezing shut as his mind whirled with emotion.

Had she left him? Had she regretted what happened between them? Had she been too embarrassed to face him? Had she gone off telling the team that he was crap in bed? Bucky knew he hadn’t lasted as long as usually did last night, but it had been decades since he was last with a girl. Decades worth of sexual frustration. And Y/N had felt so warm and tight-

“Hey sleepyhead.” A soft voice came from the ensuite doorway, knocking him out of his thoughts as his head whipped around to see Y/N.

She was glowing. Her hair was tied back in a high pony tail, her body covered in a figure hugging training suit. Bucky’s heart pounded against his chest as he breathlessly watched her make her way over to him, all of his thoughts melting away at the sight of her.

He sat up a little straighter, his mouth subtly hanging open as he became enchanted, admiring her natural beauty. “Did you sleep okay?” She asked softly, her genuine concern evident as she stood beside him. She’d felt him jolt softly in his sleep, a small frown on his face and a pout on his lips, she knew he was dreaming. She wanted to wake him while it was happening, to make sure he was okay, but instead she’d soothed him by tracing soft patterns on his chest, knowing there was no chance of him pushing her away while he slept.

“Best sleep I’ve ever had.” He breathed out shakily, his eyes soft with adoration as he watched her play with her hands nervously. He wanted to reach out and pull her down, to hold her close and never let her go. But Bucky was sensitive to her thoughts and feelings after what they’d done last night, the guilt of knowing he had a secret only making him more nervous.

She smiled bashfully at his comment, keeping her eyes away from his as she traced her fingers lightly over his thigh which was covered by the duvet. Y/N wanted to wrap her arms around Bucky and stay in bed with him all day. But she too was cautious to discover where his head was at after their night together. He seemed to be treating her like glass, she could tell he was holding back from her and she was anxious to know why.

“Why are you up so early?” Bucky tried to distract his mind from his thoughts, unable to help the shy smile from curling up on his lips as he sweetly tilted his head. His flesh hand sneakily slid across his duvet covered thighs until it came into light contact with her fingers, testing her reaction to his touch.

“Training.” She breathed out softly, still smiling as she looked up into his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the shirtless sight of the super soldier in her bed. “Are you planning on keeping my bed warm all day?” She joked lightly, her voice soft as she tried to distract herself from his gorgeous body.

“Figured I’d wait here until you got back.” He smiled dopily, making her giggle softly as he stretched his body forward, relaxing when he saw no sense of offput on her face. He snaked his arms around her waist, sitting back against the headboard as he tugged her into his lap. “Unless you wanna keep me company.”

She squealed as he pulled her down, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he watched her get comfortable, sitting sideways on his lap. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, her hand playing with the back of his hair as she relaxed into his touch. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat, the intimacy of the moment far too sentimental to be ruined by his thoughts.

Y/N longed to lean in and kiss his soft lips, already craving more after their night together. But there was still a slight reservation in her mind, she knew it would be foolish to jump head first into this without knowing how he felt, even when her heart was so desperately encouraging her to do so.

“Bucky.” She let out in a little whine as her head rested against his bare chest, feeling like there was so much she needed to say to him, but unsure as to where to start.

Bucky’s hand rubbed up and and down her back soothingly, his chin resting on top of her head as he closed his eyes with a sigh. “I know, doll.” He tried to reassure her that he knew she had a lot on her mind. And that they had a lot to discuss. He didn’t expect anything from her, he’d waited long enough to hold her like this, and he’d wait as long as it took. It also gave him time to figure out if he was going to tell her the truth or carry on living a lie.

A sudden knock on the door caught their attention. “Y/N.” Wanda’s voice called from the other side, causing Y/N to jump off of Bucky’s lap with urgency.

“Crap.” She whispered in a panic, turning around to face Bucky who was still sitting on the bed. Her eyes widened as she realised his clothes were thrown carelessly all over the room. It was no secret the super soldier spent almost every night in Y/N’s bed, the team knew that. But they didn’t need to know how far they’d taken their relationship last night.

“Coming!” Y/N walked quickly over to her door, tightening her pony tail as she went. She opened the door just enough to slip out of the room and greet Wanda, assuring the door shut properly behind her.

“So I see you and Barnes made up?” The red head chuckled in amusement, not even needing her mind reading powers to know what was going on with her friend.

Y/N huffed out as she smiled, her back staying protectively against her bedroom door. She stared back as the Scarlett Witch studied her face, her eyes twitching into a glare.

“You know I can read minds, right?” Wanda’s eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms, looking at the guilty looking girl in front of her.

“Get out of my head, Wanda!” Y/N’s eyes widened as a pink blush covered her cheeks, unable to stop thinking about how safe she’d felt with the super soldier’s body rocking against hers.

“Honey, I didn't need magic to hear the noises that were coming out of your room last night.” She smiled smugly, watching Y/N’s face drop in panic. Y/N felt her heart rate increase as embarrassment of the whole team knowing what she and Bucky had been up to washed over her body. Her mouth dropped open in shock, speechlessly standing there as her body temperature raised in humiliation.

“Relax, I was kidding.” Wanda added with a cheeky smile, her eyes lighting up as she realised her instincts had proved her well. Y/N shot her friend a glare, a little whine of shyness left her lips as Wanda’s head leaned back in laughter.

She watched the embarrassed girl silently walk away from her down the hallway, following close behind, excited to get to the training room so she could probe Y/N about her self-admitted night with Bucky.

——

Bucky decided to make his way back to his own room a little while later, coming to the conclusion that he needed to take a shower if he wanted to look his best for when Y/N finished up training. His stomach was still fluttering with butterflies as memories of the night before flooded through his mind.

He thought about Y/N as he showered, how she held him, the way her hair smelled, the little whimpers that left her lips, the way her eyes lit up the room. He smiled to himself as he thought about how she’d grown to trust him, before that gut wrenching guilt returned again. She’d grown to trust him, and he’d been betraying her the whole time.

He ruffled his hair against his towel as he walked back into his room, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Bucky threw the towel carelessly onto the floor, running his flesh hand through his towel dried hair.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, a soft smile flicking over his lips as he noticed the marks left on his body from the way she’d clung to him so tightly. He grabbed a clean t-shirt from the folded pile of laundry on his table, the one he hadn't gotten around to putting away.

Bucky did what he usually did in the mornings, find his way into the kitchen for breakfast. But he couldn’t even walk down the hallway of the compound without his heart sinking at the voice in his head, screaming that he was a liar.

“What up, cyborg?” Sam’s voice called out as he noticed Bucky entering the kitchen. He lifted his mug up to his lips, sipping the freshly made green tea as he analysed his friend’s more anxious than usual aura.

“Hey.” Bucky replied, his face straight, but not enough of a frown to give Sam confirmation that something was bothering him. He paid no attention to Sam as he grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard, still lost in his thoughts about Y/N.

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what could’ve been the cause of the super soldier’s mood, scanning up and down his body as he prepared his breakfast. His eyes widened, dropping his gaze with a shocked smile as he noticed the reddened marks on Bucky’s neck and arm. “Sleep well, Sergeant?” He smirked, lifting his mug back to his lips.

“Like a baby.” Bucky mumbled dryly, his eyes fixed on watching the cereal pour into his bowl, his mind contemplating every possible outcome of telling Y/N the truth. He heard Sam chuckle, catching his attention as he walked over to grab the milk from the fridge. “Something funny, pigeon?”

“You just seem a little more relaxed today.” Sam spoke sarcastically, his signature smirk covering his face as he pressed his metal armed partner. “Looks good on you.” He continued, amusing himself as he spoke before he could stop himself. “Almost as good as those marks.”

“Shut it, bird brain.” Bucky’s head shot round to give Sam a threatening look as he slammed the fridge door shut, realising why his co-worker looked even more smug than usual.

Sam lifted his hands up in surrender after placing his mug on the kitchen worktop. “Hey, come on now.” He chuckled softly, having worked with Bucky enough to know when he’d pushed him too far. “I’m happy for you, bro. For real. You guys are great together.”

“Let’s just hope Y/N thinks so, too.” Bucky sighed softly, leaning his palms against the edge of the worktop as he tilted his head towards Sam. Bucky knew that Sam would never completely understand the weight of his words, the only person who knew as much as Bucky was Steve.

“Seriously?” Sam asked with a tone of shock, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to comprehend whether the metal armed soldier was trying to make a joke for the first time in his life. He knew Bucky was serious when he only raised his eyebrows as a response. “Are you blind, old man? That girl is devoted to you.”

Bucky sighed, knowing Sam was right, Y/N was devoted to him, she completely trusted him. He stood up straight as both boys crossed their arms against their chests. His head dropped as he tried to ignore the nagging voice in his head, he wanted to honour Steve’s last words to him, but falling for Y/N was making it increasingly difficult to stick to the promise he’d made his best friend.

“Have you told her the truth?” Sam asked, causing Bucky’s heart to sink at the other man’s words. The truth. “No matter what happens, she can never find out the truth, Buck.” The words unlocked the memory of Steve’s voice, echoing through Bucky’s mind, his eyes squeezing shut as he shook the memory away.

“What?” His head snapped towards Sam at his question, a deep crease appearing in the middle of Bucky’s forehead. His heart sunk as he once again was reminded of the secret he’d been carrying around since Steve left, the secret that he’d been keeping from Y/N.

“About how you feel,” Sam frowned in confusion at Bucky’s sudden snappiness, tilting his head slightly as he cautiously observed his friend. “Have you told Y/N how you feel?”

It didn’t ease Bucky at all to know that Sam wasn’t talking about the truth he was hiding from her. His heartbeat quickened as his nerves increased, how was he supposed to tell Y/N how he felt? How was he supposed to keep this secret from her knowing that she’d completely given him all of her trust.

A wave of guilt washed over Bucky as he pushed his bowl away from him, suddenly losing his appetite as he ran his hand through his hair stressfully. Steve had told Bucky that Y/N could never know the truth, but he’d never expected to grow this close to her, to have to lie to her every single day. Bucky couldn’t lose her, not now, she was his muse, his reason for existing.

His head started to spin as his body filled with anxiety. If he betrayed Steve and told Y/N the truth, she’d know he’d been keeping it from her, lying to her all this time. All the trust she’d slowly given him would be washed away in an instant. But could Bucky really live with himself, continuously earning more and more of her trust, knowing that he was hiding the truth from her?

“No,” Bucky breathed shakily, pressing his lips together as the battle continued on inside his mind. His eyes flickered back and forth nervously as he meditated on his thoughts, his mind completely clouded from anything else. “I haven’t told her.”

——

“So,” Wanda dragged out the word as she held up the punching pads for Y/N, who was stretching out her arms after the first round they’d just finished. “You and Bucky, huh?”

“What about me and Bucky?” Y/N asked dismissively, throwing a few practice punches at the pads in Wanda’s hands.

“Look it might’ve been a lucky guess earlier, but you don’t usually blush like that Y/N. Something must’ve happened between the two of you.” Wanda raised her eyebrows accusingly, curious to see how Y/N was feeling after her night with Bucky.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed out as she dropped her hands in defeat, she knew it was useless lying to Wanda, she could literally read minds. “I guess something did happen.”

“And?” Wanda asked curiously as she tilted her head, tensing her arms as Y/N started throwing punches at the pads again.

“And, now I don’t know.” Y/N sighed in defeat, dropping her hands helplessly again as she lost focus of the training. “I care about him so much, Wanda. He’s been there for me every step of the way, he’s been so patient, and gentle. He’s my rock. But he’s never told me he feels for me as more than a friend.” She shrugged as her head dropped to her feet.

“Have you told him how you feel?” Wanda asked softly, aware of the sensitivity of the situation. She tilted her head as she watched Y/N lift her gaze, realising what Wanda was hinting at.

“No, but I think it’s pretty obvious.” She mumbled with a pout, dropping her head again as she tried to hide her smile.

“Well did you ever think, that just maybe, Bucky thinks he doesn’t need to tell you how he feels because his feelings are pretty obvious too?” Wanda spoke with a teasing tone, her eyebrows raising as she smiled amusingly at Y/N who was rolling her eyes with a chuckle. She knew Wanda was right, maybe she’d jumped to conclusions a little too soon. Or maybe she was scared of Bucky not reciprocating her feelings and losing him for good.

“Alright, good point Maximoff.” Y/N faked a glare at the red head as she pressed her glove covered hands on her hips. “I’ll confess my feelings to Buchanan later, but right now, it’s pads up.” She chuckled with a raise of her brow, throwing a hard punch as Wanda lifted the pads back up.

——

Y/N’s heart pounded in the cavity of her chest as she reached Bucky’s bedroom door. She’d finished training, had a shower and made sure she sprayed the perfume he always complimented. She sighed deeply, her nerves causing her hands to fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt nervously. This was it, she was really about to lay it all on the line, risk losing the person she was closest to in order to admit how she felt.

“Bucky?” Y/N’s voice dropped to a whisper as she opened the door to his room, her heart aching at the sight in front of her. He was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against his bed as his tear stained eyes stared up at the ceiling.

Bucky sniffed deeply as he tried to cover up his sadness, his glassy eyes catching hers as his head dropped forward to face her. His lips pressed together in a hard line, seeing her innocently standing in front of him only making his chest tighten as he started sobbing again.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She let out in a shaky voice as she rushed over to his side, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled his head against her chest. Only when he was pulled against her body did she notice the black and white photograph in his hand, a picture of him and Steve back in their prime. “You’re okay.”

Bucky’s heart broke as he felt her trying to soothe him, innocent to how much he’d been betraying her all along. His chest heaved as dread flooded through his body, knowing that he’d have to watch the pain in her eyes as he told her the truth. He couldn’t keep lying to her. He’d come to terms with what he’d done, willing to face the consequences in order to give her the truth she deserved.

“It’s gunna be okay, Buck.” She whispered sweetly as she placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. She didn’t know why he was so upset, she didn’t need to know, all she wanted was to make him feel safe, the same way he did to her.

“Y/N,” He breathed out shakily as he lifted his head, his hands holding her waist as he tried to speak through his tears. His blue eyes caught hers, sadness on both of their faces as they felt each other’s pain. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears as her throat sunk into her stomach, an alarming fear coursing through her body as she listened to him speak. “Is this about last night?” She whispered sadly as her head dropped, worried that he regretted what had happened between them. That had to be it, what else could it be? “Look, we can just forget it ever-“

“Doll, no.” Bucky cut her off with a shake of his head, his eyes softening as he cupped her cheek in his hand, lifting his body to come face to face with her, dropping the photo he’d previously been holding in the process. “I promise, it’s not about last night.” He reassured her as his thumb rubbed soothingly over her tear stained skin.

She sighed as she waited for an elaboration from him, her head filled with worst case scenarios as he clenched his jaw. Bucky swallowed nervously, a sharp pain in his chest as the room filled with silence. He was battling internally, his words catching in his throat, trying to spit them out was even harder than he’d imagined.

“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” She admitted sadly, pulling her hands away from him as her head turned away from his hand. Her eyes closed as she tried to contain her tears, a flame of abandonment still in her tummy from when Steve left. Was Bucky about to do the same? Even after his promises.

He couldn’t object to her rejecting his touch, biting the inside of his lip as the war continued inside his mind. Steve was gone, he’d never know that he told Y/N the truth. But here she was, her heart breaking in front of him as she pushed him away, something he never wanted to happen. Something that might happen if she knew the truth.

Bucky’s heart stopped when he heard her sob, the noise she let out full of pain as her hands came up to cover her face. She’d been through so much heartache, her body tired and weak from all the emotion. Now, she dreaded the thought of having to go through it all again. “Just say it.” She squeaked out, his silence only prolonging the inevitable.

Bucky flinched at her words, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as he tried to wake up from the nightmare. His head spun as his mind filled with the sounds of her sobbing, his chest heaving with anxiety. He didn’t know how she was going to react, he didn’t want to lose her. What if she blamed him for everything? What if she walked out of his life for good?

Y/N’s eyes stung as her cheeks reddened with tears, wishing he’d just put her out of her misery. Was he leaving her? Had she been too needy? Did he regret what happened between them last night? Had he done it all out of sympathy? Just to make her crying stop. Had he found someone else? Had he been faking it all along? Was he sick of her sadness? Was he going to push her away? Did he not want her around anymore?

“God, Bucky, just say it.” She cried weakly, pulling her head from her hands as she looked over at him. His head hung in shame as he shook his head, he wasn’t ready to lose her. That was the only possible outcome once she knew the truth, once she knew what he’d been keeping from her this whole time. “Please.” She bit down on her bottom lip as it trembled, wanting the closure of a goodbye that she never got with Steve.

Bucky’s chest caved in as he heard her beg, swallowing the lump in his throat as he felt time stop, as if the universe stood still as the words left his lips. “Steve didn’t leave you to be with Peggy, Y/N.”

Y/N felt a flood of pain rush through her veins as she heard him mentioned Steve. She sighed as the air got caught in her throat, closing her watery eyes as she shook her head. His words were the last thing she’d ever expected to hear.

Bucky sniffed, his eyes red from crying as he tried to reach for her hand, looking over at her heartbroken face. Y/N slid her hand away from his hesitantly, certain that there was more he had to say.

“Why am I only finding out about this now?” She frowned in an attempt to stop the tears as her eyes saddened, feeling vulnerable and betrayed by the one person she’d learned to trust. Did he purposely wait until she finally felt a slither of happiness before he broke her heart? Was he doing it for his own satisfaction? Had he been mocking her this whole time, knowing that she hadn’t known the truth?

“I thought I was protecting you, Steve made me promise not to ever let you find out. But I can’t lie to you anymore Y/N, it’s killing me inside. I can’t live with myself knowing that I’m keeping this secret from the girl I love.” His voice broke as the words came out of his mouth without hesitation, finally admitting how he really felt about her. Bucky watched her face flinch with pain as her mind flooded with emotion, millions of thoughts whizzing through her head as she tried to comprehend his words.

“Then tell me the truth, Buck.” Y/N’s chest tightened as she felt all the emotion of losing Steve washing over her like a wave. The anxiety of abandonment, the loneliness, the heartache, it all clouded her mind enough for her to ignore Bucky’s confession. Her bottom lip trembled as she hugged her knee to her chest, tears dripping down onto the floor as she tried to make the pain subside.

“Steve left because it was the only way to keep you safe.” Bucky breathed out shakily, his own eyes pooling with tears as he watched Y/N helplessly break down beside him. He knew she wouldn’t understand, she was never meant to understand, she was never meant to know. He sighed sadly, there was no going back now, he’d have to tell her everything. “Y/N, I need you to look at me.”

His heart sunk as she helplessly did as he instructed, fighting through her pain to get to the truth, still so many questions left unanswered. Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart raced, coming to her senses enough to know that Bucky wouldn’t lie to her about something like this.

“Stay with me.” He whispered softly, trying to get her to focus on him as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, his gut full of dread. Her lips pressed into a pout as she fearfully looked up at him, looking like a helpless animal caught in a trap.

Her eyes fixed onto his deep blue ones, her heart beginning to steady itself as she listened to his voice, even in her worst moments, Bucky somehow managed to calm her. She felt his flesh hand slide into hers, not pulling away this time as she watched him blink nervously.

“I need you to tell me your earliest memory.” Bucky instructed as his eyebrows arched in sympathy, terrified of the outcome to the situation he was now responsible for. He knew exactly why Steve had told him not to tell her, and if he were still here, he’d kick his ass for letting her find out. But Steve wasn’t here. And Bucky knew she’d never forgive him if he didn’t tell her now. “Think, Y/N.”

Y/N wracked her brain hard, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown as she flickered between Bucky’s eyes. He saw the horror flash in her eyes as she let out a soft whimper, her mouth slightly parted as she shook her head. His heart sunk, knowing he’d just triggered an alarm in her brain that would cause her a dangerous level of trauma and stress.

“It- It’s me and you. In Wakanda.” Her eyes welled with tears, her body flooding with fear as she continued to glance between each of his eyes rapidly. “The day I met Steve - he came to check up on you after your surgery-” Y/N suddenly went into panic, her body shutting down as she gripped onto his hand tightly, shaking her head in disbelief as she closed her eyes. “Bucky I’m scared.” She sobbed desperately, her body trembling as her brain tried to comprehend it all.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” He soothed her softly, quickly scrambling closer, using his metal arm to catch her body. He pulled her against his chest, his eyes squeezing shut as his heart pounded against his chest, terrified of her reaction. “How did you get to Wakanda, Y/N?” He whispered with trepidation, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand as her head collapsed against his chest.

“I don’t know,” She sobbed desperately, letting her free hand cling to the material of his t-shirt as her head began to ache, burning up from how hard she was thinking. “I can’t remember anything before that day.” She choked slightly as her breathing became erratic, realising that all she’d ever known was this. How could that be her earliest memory, as if her life only started a few years ago, it was impossible. But where were her memories? “Bucky, why can’t I remember?”

His jaw clenched tightly, hating that he had to be the one to tell her, to put her through the pain of the truth that Steve had fought to protect her from. He sniffed softly, his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her close, trying to comfort her as much as he could. “We were broken when Steve found us, Y/N.” He stopped hesitantly, there was no easy way to say any of this. He took a deep breath, feeling her body jolting as she cried softly against his chest. “We were Hydra’s most lethal killing machines. Their most successful experiments.”

Bucky felt her head shaking in denial against him, her sobs becoming louder as she tried to make sense of what he was telling her. Her chest heaved as she breathed through her uncontrollable crying, gripping tightly to the soldier who’s tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“I had the metal arm, but I guess they’d improved since the 40’s. Maybe they realised giving their assassins a metal arm wasn’t very inconspicuous.” He breathed out shakily, her head moving with the heavy movements of his chest as he pulled her tighter against him, as if it would ease her pain. “Your body was left untouched. Not a single trace of experimentation, apart from a tiny little microchip they planted in your brain.”

“No.” Y/N breathed out as her body went into panic, her tears drenching through Bucky’s t-shirt as she felt her body growing weak.

“But they fixed us in Wakanda.” He whispered softly in hope it would make her feel better somehow. He lifted his hand to the back of her head, cradling it in his hand as he rubbed his thumb along her skull in an attempt to soothe her. “They didn’t have to remove your chip like they did my arm, Shuri had her team wipe the software that Hydra had programmed onto it. They rewrote the code so that Hydra wouldn’t be able to gain control of you.”

Y/N’s sobs continued as she listened to Bucky, her eyes squeezing shut as she learnt about her broken past.“Part of the process to re-write the code meant wiping any memory that may have triggered Hydra’s manipulation. We didn’t know much about you, where you came from, how long you’d been under Hydra’s control. So the most viable course of action was to wipe everything, it was the best chance they had of knowing you’d be safe.”

A dull ache wash over Y/N’s body, feeling violated and betrayed. Her head burned as she tried to come to terms with never knowing who she really was, a billion questions and thoughts racing through her mind. She was physically and mentally tired, too tired to process all of this, little whimpers leaving her lips as she listened to him.

“Your earliest memory of Steve coming to visit me, he was there to visit both of us, Y/N. You two met like it was the first time, and for you, it was. But you’d actually kicked his ass once before when he first found us.” Bucky let out a slight chuckle through his sobs at the memory of his best friend. It felt like a lifetime ago he watched her take out Cap’s legs and grab him in a choke hold. Nothing beat the look on Steve’s face when he realised just how powerful she was. “You not recognising Steve was when they knew for sure that the procedure had been a success.”

Bucky rubbed his thumb over her temple, feeling her trembling against him as she became overwhelmed with the realisation. Her whole world had crumbled around her, she sat there with Bucky in the rubble of her life, wondering if it was even worth trying to pick up the pieces. “You didn’t remember me either, or anything about us. It hurt to know you’d never remember all the memories we shared, all the things we did together. We were quite the team. But at least I knew we were safe and that was the most important thing.” He thought back to before Wakanda, all the missions they’d been on together, all the good times they’d shared, even then, it had always been just the two of them. All they had was each other. “You and Steve fell in love the day he came to bring us back from Wakanda, but I think the punk had a crush on you from back when you were kicking his ass in the street.” He chuckled to himself, hoping his words were calming her as much as they were himself.

But he was wrong. They weren’t. Her thoughts continued to churn through her mind, the little pieces of past making her head ache as she tried to put them together. She clung tightly to Bucky’s chest, digging her nails into his flesh as she pressed her head against him. “If I was fixed, why did he have to keep me safe?” She whispered shakily, her reddened eyes stinging from the saltiness of her tears. “Why did he have to leave?”

Bucky’s face dropped in agony, the reason behind Steve leaving now the only secret he was hiding from her, well, almost the only secret. It wasn’t as simple as telling her about her unknown past, he had to try and justify Steve’s decision to the person who loved him the most, who’s whole life had revolved around Steve. “These people, worse than Hydra found out about us, they kept threatening Steve, tormenting him about how they were going to take you away from him, turn you back into a kille- an assassin.” Bucky stopped himself after thinking about his words, having been through the troubling process of coming to terms with his past himself. “He’d just gone through losing Tony and Nat, his mind was a mess. He couldn’t bare the thought of losing you, too.”

Y/N breathed out shakily as her heart felt like giving up, she’d been through too many sleepless nights wondering why Steve never said goodbye, now she was finally getting her answer, the truth hurt so much more. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, helplessly sobbing as she leaned the truth behind Steve’s departure.

“He knew they wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted. He told me the risk was too high, their threats weren’t as empty as he’d originally hoped. They told him he had to sacrifice himself, to never return if he wanted you to be safe.” He continued as he felt her gasping for air between cries, his eyes closing weakly as he felt her pain. “Steve realised there was only one way to make sure they kept their end of the bargain, to make sure they never came near you again. He went back to destroy the weapon that Hydra had planted in your brain.” Bucky sniffed as his fingers massaged the back of her head, dropping his head to press his cheek against hers. “He had to make sure the thing that controlled you was never invented, so that they would have no reason to come after you.”

Y/N fell still, her head spinning, overwhelmed by the amount of information she was being told. It all become too much for her to handle, she didn’t want to listen anymore, she’d heard enough. She shook her head, refusing to know anymore than she already did.

“His plan was to find you once he’d completed his mission. To earn your love and make a life for the both of you, one where you’d both be safe.” Bucky’s words made Y/N wince in agony, somewhere out there, Steve was with her, they had a life together, one that she would never know.

Her tears fell silently down her face as she hung her head, a sudden shell of hardness covering her body as she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. “You knew this all along.” She whispered out sadly, blinking rapidly in an attempt to control her tears as her hands dropped from his body. It wasn't a question, she knew it was true.

Bucky’s heart sunk as a wave of anxiety flooded his body, his chest heaving as his eyebrows arched softly. “I was just doing what Steve-”

“You listened to me blame him.” Her voice shook in a mixture of pain and sadness, the world around her darkening. “You spent countless sleepless nights with me, watching me tormented at not knowing why Steve had left.” She pressed her lips together in a hard line, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. “And all the time, you knew.”

“Y/N,” Bucky pleaded sadly in defeat, listening to the weakness of her voice. He’d never meant to hurt her, he never wanted to cause her any pain. “I’m so sorry.”He cried as his flesh hand came up to wipe away his tears. “Please, you have to believe me.” He whispered softly, desperately reaching his hand out towards her, flinching slightly when he felt her push him away.

“I can’t do this.” She shook her head, panic setting in as her heart thudded repeatedly against her chest. He was hurting just as much as she was. His eyes were flooded with tears, his bottom lip trembling as he avoided her gaze. Y/N felt the darkness of the room engulf her as she stood up, her head spinning as shallow breaths left her lips. She sighed deeply as she turned her head towards the door.

Bucky sobbed as he watched her leave him alone in the dark. His heart ached, knowing that he’d broken her heart and there was nothing he could do to fix it. His head dropped back in agony as he heard the door close behind her, wondering if he’d ever get to make it up to her. Wondering if he even deserved the chance.

Y/N sobbed weakly as her head dropped in defeat, her heart sinking as she found her way back to her empty room. She’d finally got the confession from Bucky that she wanted, but now it caused her more pain than joy. Maybe she wasn’t worthy of happiness. Maybe all this pain was karma for the pain she’d caused others under Hydra’s control.

Bucky’s body weakened, feeling sick to his stomach as he sat there alone in the darkness. Everything she’d said was true, he couldn’t argue, he knew how much he’d kept from her. He thought he was doing what was best, but all he’d been doing was delaying her pain.

——

It was the longest, loneliest night either of them had persevered through. Neither of them slept, both haunted by the night before. Y/N longed to feel Bucky’s warmth against her, holding her close and keeping her safe. She couldn’t blame him for trying to honour Steve’s wish, she’d realised that around 3am.

Bucky was tortured by her absence, wondering if she was okay, if she was hurting as much as he was. He didn't regret his decision to tell her the truth, the same way he was sure Steve wouldn’t be regretting his decision to leave in order to save her. Now more than ever, he understood Steve’s decision. Both of them had caused her pain, but they’d done it out of love.

Despite his best efforts to avoid any sort of human contact, Bucky was met by Wanda in the kitchen. He sighed deeply, keeping his head down as he silently poured himself a cup of water.

“Bucky,” Wanda spoke softly, walking over to stand opposite him. He glanced up at her quickly, his eyes still red from all of the crying he’d done, hoping she’d get the message. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Sorry, Wanda, now’s not really a good time.” Bucky mumbled his response, hoping that the Scarlett Witch would accept his wish and let him be. The pain from last night was still fresh, and no one apart from Bucky and Y/N had known what had unfolded.

“It’s about Y/N.” Wanda added quickly, her eyebrows arching slightly, hoping he’d take the time to listen. Her fingers tapped on the edge of the worktop, nervously trying to gauge the reaction of the obviously miserable super soldier.

“What about Y/N?” Bucky asked anxiously, a million thoughts flying through his head. His chest tightened as he glared at Wanda with a deep frown, anticipating what she had to say.

“Remember when you caught me casting a spell to let her see Steve?” Wanda started softly, her heart racing as she observed his reaction carefully. Bucky’s head nodded in confirmation, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to continue. “Y/N saw you while she was under the spell.” She elaborated, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to catch on.

“So?” Bucky frowned with a shrug of his shoulders.

“So,” Wanda dragged out the word slightly. “It’s a lovers spell, Bucky. Whilst under it, you are only able to see people who you’re in love with.” She explained with a soft smile, watching Bucky’s eyes widen slightly as he finally began to understand. “Y/N is in love with you.”

“I have to go.” Bucky mumbled quickly, carelessly slamming the glass of water down on the kitchen worktop as he rushed out of the room. He didn’t care that she’d probably not want to talk to him after last night, he didn’t care that she’d probably yell at him to go away. All he cared about was seeing her.

He turned the handle on the door, bursting into Y/N’s bedroom without knocking as his chest heaved. “Bucky!” Y/N squealed in shock, her eyes widening as she turned to face the super soldier from where she stood at the end of her bed.

“Do you love me?” He panted out breathlessly, anxious to know if it was true, if she did in fact feel the same way as he did. He didn’t care that she probably never wanted to see him again after last night, Wanda’s words echoing through his mind, taking control of his senses.

“Bucky, you can’t just barge in here-“

“Do you love me?” He yelled desperately, walking towards her as Y/N’s face softened in shock. She watched his eyes glisten with hope, her heart racing as he stood in front of her.

He looked down at the girl in front of him, the girl he’d held close every night, the girl he’d loved silently for far too long. Every treasured moment came crashing through his mind, his chest heaving as he longed to hear her confirm what Wanda had told him.

Y/N breathed out shakily as she looked up at him, the man who’d been there for her through every tear, every sleepless night. The man she’d learned to trust, the man who made her feel safe, the man who felt like home to her. The man who she couldn’t imagine her life without. Her heart thudded against her chest as butterflies filled her tummy, an overwhelming amount of emotion coursing through her body, she’d never felt more vulnerable. “Yes.” She whispered softly, everything around them fading away as they kept their eyes on each other. “Bucky, I love you.”

He pressed his lips softly against hers, feeling her immediately respond as she kissed him back. They sighed into the kiss, a huge weight lifting off of them both as they finally accepted their love for one another.

And in that moment, they finally believed that everything was going to be okay.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

@codyl-angdon

@marveljunkieee

@melchills-j​

@permanent-lines​

[rogueyami]

Haikyuu!! Fic Recs

I love reading fanfics, and I have so many bookmarked that I want to share. Hope you all enjoy and give these writers all the love. All of these are completed works, and they are a mixture of one shots and multi chaps.

Kagehina

where the night goes by bigspoonnoya (M)

Summary:

When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they're left to consider why it's still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

Somewhere to Belong by Esselle (E)

Summary:

Once a year, all the villages that follow the way of the sun offer up one of their own to be taken to the sun god's divine temple. Kageyama Tobio, an orphan and loner, never wanted to be chosen—and until the sun god appeared, no one ever wanted to choose him, either. All Tobio wants is to find a place he fits in. What he actually gets is another story entirely.

by this time next year by reeology (T)

Summary:

"I got offers from two universities," Kageyama announces, pointing at his chest with his thumb. "I'm going to play volleyball at Keio this spring."

"You still have to pass an exam, even if it's an easy one," Takeda-sensei hurries to add, although he is beaming and bursting with pride at his fluffy little crow chick taking off to play volleyball at a university level.

"I'll pass," Kageyama says with the same kind of confidence he uses when he tells Hinata he'll get the toss to him. He looks straight at Hinata, and Hinata jerks and turns red, wondering if maybe Kageyama knew he was daydreaming about something as stupid as the way Kageyama talks to him during a game. But then Kageyama just points at him and says, "You'd better get in, too."

Hinata, stupid, naive, idiot that he is, grins wide and nods and says, "Yeah!"

He doesn't know what he's in for.

Not Alone by seconddaysea (E)

Summary:

"I'll visit you," Hinata says. "So you're not allowed to get lonely, you got it?" He turns so they're facing each other, hands warm against Tobio's back. "I'm already lonely," he replies quietly, and he presses his face against Hinata's heart, squeezing his eyes shut, because if this is a dream he doesn't want to wake up.

maps, from me to you by tothemoon (T)

Summary:

This is a (non-chronological) account of the memories they make out of millimeters.

Iwaoi

we can do better than that by spaceburgers (M)

Summary:

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 

we shine like diamonds by whiitemists (T)

Summary:

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

here comes your man by newamsterdam (T)

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s left his cell phone on the bench, and while Suga keeps his gaze away from Iwaizumi the phone lights up with a new message.

Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3

Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties.

Mrs. Iwaizumi must be quite the doting wife, Suga thinks. Delivering hand-made bentos and sending along loving messages.

No one really knows much about the new surgical resident, Doctor Iwaizumi, other than the fact that he's married. Suga's determined to find out more, and make a friend of him in the process.            

just hear me out by loveclouds (T)     

Summary:

To stimulate Japan's low birthrates and take most of the guesswork out of dating, a beeper system was biologically developed in people's wrists, an audible confirmation to show romantic compatibility.

Iwaizumi's beeper has been going off for Oikawa since they've been kids. Oikawa's has only ever been silent.

 Call Security! by DeathBelle  (T)    

Summary:

Oikawa Tooru is attractive, charming, and irresistible.

He thinks so, anyway, until he meets the mall's new security guard.

In which Oikawa has a crush, Iwaizumi has no interest, and a chain of shoplifting incidents brings them together.

Bokuaka

(Don't) Touch Me by DeathBelle (E)         

Summary:

Akaashi has always had an aversion to human contact, but earlier in his life it had been bearable. It isn't until his last year of high school that it becomes intolerable. By the time he enters college, any skin contact has the potential to send him spiraling into a breathtaking panic attack.

He reconnects with Bokuto in college, and he seems to be the only person with the ability to calm Akaashi down. He finds himself relying on his old captain more and more, especially when Bokuto deems himself Akaashi's own personal guardian. Despite their connection, he can't touch Bokuto, either; no matter how badly he'd like to.    

Upstairs by yoogiboobi (E)    

Summary:

Bokuto first sees his neighbour at the supermarket, three days after he's moved into his new place.

[...] 

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.         

bang! now we're even by Authoress (E)

Summary:

Akaashi only has two rules when it comes to his profession. One, complete the job as swiftly and cleanly as possible. Two, never trust anyone who smells like blood.

Rule three is to shoot Owl Eyes in the face should he ever come across him, but Akaashi never tells anyone about that one.

Crisis Converted  by valiantarmor (E)    

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji is just a normal cop with a penchant for getting himself into trouble, when quite suddenly he finds himself with a big promotion and a brand new partner.

But his habit of finding trouble hasn't gone away -- if anything, it's only gotten worse. 

cracks in the pavement will lead you home by deusreks (M)    

Summary:

Bokuto often thinks about Akaashi, especially when he’s running. It’s like his legs know where they’re supposed to take him. He grows into a habit of running a lot, just to keep that feeling going. Cracks and holes in the pavement aren’t fun to jump over if the final reward isn’t seeing Akaashi’s face.

An alternate universe with a little bit of magic and a lot of growing up.         

Ushiten

died in my dreams by MTrash (Makaria) (T)

Summary:

If anyone asked Ushijima how it came to this, he wouldn’t be able to formulate a proper answer.

Ushijima likes his quiet, his order, and his solitude. That is, until a loud, talkative and a little chaotic cyber tech convinces him that that's just plain boring.

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) by pseudoanalytics (T)     

Summary:

Of course if there was one thing that could be counted on, it was Ushijima’s blunt, total honesty. “Do you think Tendou is attracted to me?”

Reon froze. “T-Tendou?”

“Yes.”

Tendou was notoriously hard to read, but Reon kind of figured that he wasn’t the type to be anything less than painfully overt with romantic affections.

“I... I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think if Tendou was attracted to you, he would let you know,” Reon said. “I'd guess he just considers you his best friend.” He hoped his answer would satisfy whatever frenzy the guy had worked himself into so Reon could finally take advantage of his last precious hours of sleep.

But instead, Ushijima visibly deflated in front of him. “Yes. That’s what I thought too,” he said miserably.

Oh, Reon realized. Oh no...

Executive Excursion by DeathBelle (E)    

Summary:

Tendou is fun, quirky, and interesting.

Ushijima is none of the above.

It's no surprise that Ushijima is drawn to Tendou's magnetic personality. What's surprising is that Tendou seems to like Ushijima, too.

With a little support from his coworkers, Ushijima decides to take a chance and ask Tendou on a date. The results are better than expected.

fascinating facts about geckos by miracleboysatori (T)        

Summary:     

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

That’s the coach’s name. And he’s the new biology teacher on campus, so not only is he incredibly beautiful, he's also smart as hell.

Tendou can tell he’s completely doomed.

Affection, and other Quantifiable Actions by badbavarois (T)   

Summary:

(He's a monster) Ushijima Wakatoshi isn't a monster.            

Misc/ Other ships

but not for spring to well up by tookumade (T)  OsaSuna 

Summary:

After ending a relationship with a fiancé, Suna returns home and tries to heal from heartbreak. Here, he finds friends in the form of the Miya brothers, and learns patience, forgiveness, and what happiness means to him.           

the more things change by deadseasalt (E)  OiKage   

Summary:

“So let me get this straight. You went to the Meiji-Chuo game and saw your old crush and after watching Meiji bring Chuo to a crushing defeat, you realized you were still crushing on him big time?”

Kageyama wishes he could spit in Tsukishima’s drink. “It’s not a crush.”

Tsukishima laughs. “You poor dumb fuck.”

Third Impression by DeathBelle (E) Kuroo x Semi

Summary:

If Semi has a type, Kuroo isn't it.

After their first meeting, Semi concludes that Kuroo is smug, presumptuous, and a little too flirtatious for his own good. Their second encounter doesn't change his mind, and Semi does his best to avoid a third.

Kuroo has other ideas, and Semi finds himself tricked into an impromptu tutoring session with Kuroo himself.

It doesn't go as badly as Semi expects.

Mannequin Men by surveycorpsjean  (E) BokuAkaKuroTsukki

Summary:

The modeling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

Efflorescence by h_lovely (E) MatsuHana

Summary:

"Are we flirting?"   "Do you want to be?"

[Efflorescence (n.) a state of blooming, flowering, and development.]

[starlocked01]

And at Last I See the Light

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary:  This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting. Content Warning: Major Character Death, Cussing, Kissing, Crying, Panic and Anxiety

Day 21 Analogical- (Combined AUs)  You see the world in black and white until you first touch your soulmate, Everyone is born with a gift or power that is nullified in the immediate presence of your soulmate, You have until midnight of your 26th birthday to find and identify your soulmate or else you both die.

This is the story of how I died. I have been told it's a story worth telling, but I fail to see how anyone benefits from my death. Luckily, this story is not about me, but rather the most remarkable man I ever had the distinction of meeting.

I should explain. This man was my soulmate in life and his gift was one of renewal. Flowers drooping in a vase would spring up at his touch. People nearing death found their ailments eased a while longer so they could say goodbyes. Wounds healed quicker for him and the weary found new strength at his encouragement. It was a gift that brought more beauty to the world; one I failed to appreciate.

Perhaps you will not repeat my mistakes.

Virgil yawned and stretched awake. The bright grey of the morning dawn made him squint in annoyance as he rolled out of bed and thudded to the floor. He could dream in color and frankly preferred dreams to the living world.

Today especially Virgil would have preferred to roll over back asleep. Today marked the beginning of the end as most people saw it.

Virgil had one year left to find his soulmate or they both would die.

That was of course unless his soulmate was older and had less than a year of their own. Frankly, Virgil thought the universe had a rather twisted sense of humor. It withheld color and life from those who most needed a reason to push forward each day. And gave them a freaking time limit to fall in line.

Soulmates were bullshit.

He'd already been touched by every kid at school and from the surrounding districts. Normally, when kids graduated high school and hadn't found their soulmates, they'd go to college to find a wider selection of people their age to try and match with, but Virgil had decided against college. He'd been called crazy but frankly, he didn't much care.

Virgil shrugged on what appeared to him as a black hoodie with drab grey patches and ran his fingers through his hair. His bangs fell right back in his face as he headed down the stairs. He brushed his hand through the vase of flowers his grandmother constantly forgot to water and watched as petals and leaves in various shades of grey perked up, ready for another day of neglect.

For his birthday, the atmosphere in the kitchen sure felt like his funeral.

"Good morning, Nana," Virgil murmured, grabbing the box of cereal from the table and reaching in to grab a handful.

"Get out," she spat at him, "either find your soulmate or die in obscurity so I can pretend you found a lovely woman and settled down in the country."

"Love you too, Nana," Virgil sighed and grabbed his messenger bag.

"Why are you the only one who doesn't want to be happy?" she asked, voice choked with sadness.

"I don't need a soulmate to be a complete person. If I find someone I find someone. If not, oh well. I've had friends and family I was happy with and soulmates tore them away from me. It's a broken system and if I die being myself, I'll come to haunt you until you join me in the afterlife," Virgil smiled softly and kissed her on the cheek.

She laughed dryly, "you don't scare me, little verbena. Please, try to find them. I love you." Virgil saluted as he left the apartment for work.

The great thing about working in the library was the quiet shuffle of people reverently browsing through the shelves piled high with more words than they could possibly read. Virgil enjoyed the calm and helping people find what books they were looking for. Except when the only fact they knew about the book was the color of the cover. When those people asked he would flash his grey eyes at them and smile sweetly before saying they all looked the same to him. Most people would act horrified and apologize profusely. Some would get angry and demand assistance he couldn't provide. Roman usually stepped in at that point, and despite having met Janus a year ago, rarely was able to locate books by color. At the very least he always offered Virgil sympathy when the guest walked away.

"You just have to go where the young people are, Virgil. They come to the city looking for soulmates, you need to spend more time with people your age. I'm sure your soulmate is out there looking for you!" Roman grinned, "Jan and I go to this great bar-"

"Let me stop you there, Princey," Virgil chuckled, "I don't do bars or crowds. Even going with you two sounds like a nightmare. I'm not going to subject myself to that for what? Some strangers to touch me and change the whole world to color? Lame," Virgil rolled his eyes. They had this conversation once a week.

"Um, excuse me. I need assistance logging on to your computer system. If I need to register for a card to do so I would like the forms to start that process," Virgil swiveled in his seat towards the man's voice and lost his own.

He looked like a man out of an old black and white film, (to Virgil every film was black and white, but Nana insisted there was a difference when pictures changed to color) his hair was slicked back and face was punctuated by thin black glasses frames that accentuated the stranger's cheeks and nose. His silhouette was sleekly defined in a black polo and grey jeans, with a slightly more saturated grey tie. Virgil felt as though the man's presence had taken his breath away.

"Can you help me?" the man cleared his throat and Virgil snapped back to present.

"Sorry, of course, sir. Do you have a form of identification to apply for a library card? The card is required to access the computers, unfortunately," Virgil rattled off the spiel from memory while pulling out the form and a new card. The stranger handed him his driver's license.

The first thing he noticed was that it was an out of state ID. The second was the birthdate, just a month before his. The third was the man's name.

"Thank you, Logan. If you would just fill out this form, I just need to make a copy for our records."

"Certainly, thank you- what's your name?"

"His name is Virgil and he's single," Roman slid in with a wink at Logan. Virgil quickly turned and walked to the photocopier, heat rising in his cheeks. He could just hear the man's reply.

"Thanks? I don't really do relationships. Do you have a pen?"

Virgil took several deep breaths. He'd had crushes like this before. It would go away as he learned more about this Logan. He grabbed the copy paper and the ID and returned to the front desk.

"Here's your ID back," he traded Logan the ID for the paperwork and scanned through it quickly, "looks like you forgot to put down a phone number, what was that?" Virgil realized a second too late how that would sound to literally anyone as Roman snickered at him, but there was a blank space on the form.

Logan looked incredibly confused, "no, that's- I couldn't have forgotten. The number is- wait," he pulled a cellphone out of his back and read the number off to Virgil who jotted it down in the correct space.

"You're looking kinda pale there, Logan, do you need to sit down?" Roman looked concerned and even Virgil could see what he was talking about.

Logan shook his head, "I never- ever- forget anything. Ever."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess," Virgil shrugged and slid the library card across the desk.

"You don't understand, my gift is perfect recall. A permanent eidetic memory. I don't forget. I should know my own phone number like I know the digits of pi."

"Nerd!" Roman coughed to hide his laughing and both Logan and Virgil glared at him.

"That is pretty strange.. I hope it gets fixed for you soon? Anyway, you're all set, Logan. Let me know if you need anything else," Virgil smiled.

"Thank you-" Logan snapped his fingers a few times before giving up trying to remember, head hung in defeat.

"Virgil," Virgil supplied softly.

"Thank you, Virgil. It was nice meeting you two," Logan walked away from the desk and straight toward the nearest open monitor.

"You better ask him out or I'm breaking up with Janus for a chance at that," Roman said in a low voice to Virgil.

"No, you won't. He's out of both of our leagues anyway," Virgil smirked at his coworker's offended gasp and returned to checking in returned books.

"His tie was blue, by the way," Roman winked and turned to find another patron who needed help.

Logan came back to the library every day except the holidays for the next few weeks and always made a point of asking Virgil when he had questions or needed help. Roman insisted it was mutual pining but Virgil held fast to the comment that Logan doesn't do relationships. Unless he heard otherwise from Logan himself, Virgil refused to imagine a relationship was possible.

He was completely blindsided when Logan asked if he would like to hang out after his shift.

"I'm sorry, come again?"

"I would like to spend time with you when you are not otherwise preoccupied with your duties. Is that not acceptable?" Logan was always so direct. Virgil felt his heart flutter just a bit, nowhere near as intense as it had the day they met.

"I mean yeah that would be cool," Virgil smirked.

"So do you do bars or-?" Logan looked put off even making the suggestion.

"I know a cafe that has decent decaf; if you'd like we can walk there from here. I'm off at 6," Virgil watched as Logan nodded decisively.

"Excellent, I look forward to it," Logan grinned and Virgil found himself grinning back.

Roman slowly inched closer in his rolling chair, eyes wide with excitement and jaw dropped in disbelief, "Virge, do you have a date after work?"

"No! We're just hanging out," Virgil turned to ignore Roman.

"'Hanging Out' is code for a date. Maybe he's your soulmate! Brush his hand or something and find out!" Roman was bouncing in his chair now.

"No! That's so rude! Did you do that to Janus? Don't answer that- I bet you did," Virgil rolled his eyes, "it's not a date to the extent of my knowledge."

"Oh my god, you're mirroring him. You like him so much! Virgil, this could be it!" Virgil glared at Roman and shushed him in true librarian fashion before standing to grab the cart and collect used books from the tables.

Virgil picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he turned to leave but was surprised to see Logan waiting for him by the door. He had been certain Logan would have either forgotten or changed his mind and left by now.

Roman gave Virgil a huge cheesy grin and a thumbs up, "good luck on your date!" his whisper could probably have been heard in Russia.

Virgil felt the heat rising in his cheeks and shrugged his hoodie on tighter over his shoulders, waving off Roman and walking over to join Logan by the door.

"Hey," he said awkwardly.

"Are you ready? If you need more time-" Logan started.

"I'm fine. Let's get out of here before Roman starts taking pictures," Virgil turned to leave, taking purposeful steps to the door and flipping Roman off behind his back. Logan followed briskly. Virgil led him to his favorite coffee shop, quiet on the walk there.

The question was burning in his mind though. Was this supposed to be a romantic date? Or worse a soulmate test. Virgil had gathered that Logan was rather frank, but he really didn't know the man at all.

Both of them reached to grab the door to the shop at the same time. Virgil snapped his hand back.

"Please, allow me," Logan opened the door and ushered Virgil inside. Virgil wanted to shrink until he was invisible. He tried a quick controlled breathing exercise to calm his nerves. They each ordered and Logan excused himself.

"Virgil! Come help me out over here!" the owner, Mr. Dolenz, looked rather put out by a droopy speckled grey potted fern by the front door.

"Oh no, not Tabitha," Virgil walked over, surveying the damage to the plant. Each leaf he fingered grew stronger and healthier until the whole fern was practically an inch taller. Virgil smiled as Mr. Dolenz thanked him profusely, "maybe keep an eye out to make sure people aren't dumping drinks on her. That could really mess with the soil pH."

"You're a miracle worker! You and your boyfriend's drinks are on me," the owner clasped Virgil hard on the back. He couldn't respond before the man was already bustling back towards the kitchen. Virgil turned to see that Logan had apparently returned in time to hear just enough. It was difficult to tell, but Virgil thought Logan might be blushing.

"What was that about?" Logan cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

"Oh, people like to dump drinks they're done with on the plants and it kills them. So I just use my gift to restore the plants before they're dead for Mr. Dolenz. I think he made a few too many assumptions tonight," Virgil scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh, what is your gift?" the look on Logan’s face was fascinated with Virgil’s claim.

The barista called their names and they collected the drinks before selecting a table by the windows in the corner, "I can renew things. Makes sense that I'm a librarian," Virgil laughed dryly at the tired joke, "basically I can bring a little bit of life back before it's gone. Can't really raise the dead though," he took a sip of his decaf mocha.

"That must be at least fairly useful. Is there a reason you didn't go into a medical profession?" Logan sipped his iced black coffee, looking intently at Virgil.

Virgil couldn’t take the internal tension in his mind any longer and blurted out, "is this a date? Are you trying to figure out if I'm your soulmate?" his eye went wide and he bit his tongue.

"No, did I give off that impression? I didn't want to seem too cold but-" Logan looked crestfallen.

Virgil smacked the side of his head and cursed Roman for planting the thought in his mind, "Logan, I'm sorry. You didn't- Roman- I- ah… I'm sorry. I'm just so used to everyone trying to force me into romantic scenarios that I did it to you when I knew that's not what this was- I'm so sorry. I made it awkward and now I'm rambling and you're probably just going to stand and leave-" Virgil felt a tear slip down his cheek as Logan cleared his throat.

"Actually, I understand what you mean. I too haven't found my soulmate, nor am I interested in finding them," Logan took a long sip of coffee, "I've accepted this is my last year alive. I actually moved to the city because my family wouldn't stop trying to force me into relationships as well."

"Really? Wow, that's… it's so messed up!" Virgil was worked up now and Logan was going to get the rant whether he wanted it or not, "why cut short someone's life just because they haven't found one person out of billions on the planet? And yet somehow for 99% of the population, it works! But where does that leave people like us? Discarded by the universe. It's asinine," Virgil huffed and Logan listened calmly until he was done.

"I agree," came Logan’s simple reply.

"You do?"

"I do. It's asinine. But it's how life works. Life is an ass," Virgil tried to hold back a laugh.

They talked about everything until the cafe closed. Logan talked about his research and writing and Virgil listened in wonder. Virgil talked about his interest in flowers and their symbolism while Logan nodded along. Virgil learned about Logan's previous job as an Astronomer and Logan listened to Virgil's rants about library patrons. They were joking and laughing for the whole walk back to the library. They agreed to go out for coffee at least once a week and it quickly became Virgil’s most anticipated evening each week.

Roman teased him to no end, but Virgil was comfortable in his growing friendship with Logan. His initial crush had faded into nonexistence and he simply enjoyed the man's company.

The months flew by and soon it was fall again. Virgil was so busy with the library's Halloween decorations that he almost didn't notice that Logan had not come in all day. He tried to shrug it off but the voice in the back of his head told him he needed to worry about this or he'd probably never hear from Logan again.

When Logan was nowhere to be seen the next day, Virgil texted him, asking if everything was okay. The response was sobering.

L- I apologize. I've been feeling too weak to get out of bed for the past few days. I hope you find your soulmate before your birthday, Virgil. Dying is less peaceful than I had calculated.

Virgil stared at the screen, scanning the words over and over. He could feel panic screaming in his chest, trying to drown out the world. There had to be something- he texted back.

V- can I come over? Maybe my gift will make it easier for you?

The reply was nearly immediate.

L- There is no need. I will rest today and be back to my research tomorrow. This book has a rather final deadline.

L- No pun intended.

Virgil couldn’t focus for the rest of the shift or the rest of the night. Worry for his friend gnawed at his stomach and kept him up late into the night.

True to his word, Logan arrived at the library at his usual time the next day. Virgil felt overwhelmed with relief that was quickly replaced with deep dread. Logan looked terrible. He had dark bags under his eyes and gaunt hollow cheeks. He carried himself as tall as he always had, but there was a new looseness to his movements.

Logan smiled as he approached Virgil’s station at the front desk, "I'm sorry I worried you, Virgil. Are we still on for tonight?"

Virgil nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Great, thank you," Logan turned toward his usual workspace. Virgil kept an eye on him all day. If he was honest with himself, he was scared. It was like seeing his own future, but instead of watching himself dying, he was watching the man he'd come to consider his best friend waste away.

At 6 Virgil signed out and waited for Logan to make his way to the door. He suggested he drive them over to the cafe and Logan readily agreed.

Virgil held open the door and insisted on picking up the tab. Logan wouldn't let him help physically but he would do everything he could for this man.

They sat quietly at their corner table. Virgil’s mouth was dry but he couldn’t bring himself to drink.

"Virgil?" his head snapped up hearing his name, "I have a bit of a surprise confession to make," Logan fiddled with his cup, not making eye contact, "I recently discovered that I am demiromantic. I had assumed I was aromantic but it seems I have developed feelings for you," Logan's laugh sounded hollow, "that must be pretty frightening coming from a walking corpse."

"Logan, when we first met, I had a huge crush on you. And I'm so glad we've gotten to know each other this year. I- don't have those feelings anymore, but I'm flattered, knowing you," Virgil hoped honesty would be the best policy.

Logan nodded, deep in thought, "that's fair. I'm sorry for imposing on you."

"No! No no no. You haven't. I- I understand- one-sided feelings hurt and you look like you're in so much pain. I'm not upset or weirded out. You're my best friend, Logan, and I love you platonically."

"I have less than a month until my birthday," Logan groaned softly, clutching his stomach, "I probably won't be coming in much anymore."

Virgil nodded, understanding, "can I try to use my gift on you?"

"No. I knew this was going to happen. There's no sense hiding from it now," Logan smiled weakly.

"Can I at least visit you after work? I don't want you to be alone," Virgil could sense Logan wanted to make this a goodbye but he wasn't ready to let go yet. He felt desperate to be there for Logan every minute he could afford.

Logan could see the panic in his eyes and nodded. He didn't want to be alone either.

Virgil showed up every night after work. He cooked and cleaned and did anything he could for Logan in the time they had. After Halloween, Virgil started to feel the effects of the deterioration himself, but he pushed the pain down to focus on being there with Logan.

The night before Logan’s birthday was quiet. Logan laid in his bed and Virgil sat in a chair beside him. The clock ticked audibly, much louder than it should have been. Virgil picked up the nearest book and began reading aloud. Logan visibly relaxed. After a while, Virgil turned to face Logan and whispered words of encouragement and strength. Logan wouldn't let him try anything else but it usually helped people who were tired. Nothing changed.

Logan started crying. It was barely noticeable at first (Virgil noticed) but grew in fear and pain.

"Logan, I'm here. You're not going to be alone. I promise," Virgil wanted to grab his hand, to physically comfort him in some way, but when he tried Logan pulled his hand away from Virgil's reach.

"Virgil, I love you. If I had a soulmate I would have wanted him to be you," Logan's voice was a rasp, paper-thin.

"Just, wait for me in the afterlife, I won't be long," Virgil tried to laugh but he sounded hollow.

The clock ticked louder, midnight was minutes away. Virgil wiped the tears from his cheeks and tried to smile for Logan, pulling every fiber of his being into being strong.

"Maybe it was you and I've been running from the truth," Logan reached out his hand and the clock struck midnight just before he touched Virgil’s cheek, "I think it was, but that doesn't matter anymore. I lov-" the light in his eyes extinguished like a candle finishing a wick. Logan’s body fell back to the bed and Virgil shattered.

Logan was gone. And Virgil knew that his dying breath was right. They were soulmates but it was too late.

Virgil collapsed on the bed, sobbing and holding Logan close. He was so light at the end, almost incorporeal to the touch. Virgil cried over all the pain he could have prevented, the sleepless nights dreading this one, for the friend he'd never talk to again. Logan was the only one who had ever understood, who had accepted his choices, who had believed in him when everyone else pitied him. And he was gone.

He was gone.

As if possessed, Virgil kissed his soulmate’s body on the lips and then leaned to whisper in his deaf ear, "I love you too, Logan. I love you too. You were my soulmate. I'm coming," with that he collapsed in a fresh batch of tears, crying until he was exhausted and his face was contorted and purple from the exertion.

Virgil opened his eyes. Blue. Blue eyes stared back at him from the face he'd often dreamed of in color like this. This had to be a dream. A dream of lovely blue confused eyes and disheveled brown hair. The room hadn't changed except it was morning and everything looked just like a dream. Because it had to be a dream if Logan was looking back at him with deep brilliant blue eyes filled with more questions than answers.

"Virgil?" Logan's voice croaked. Why couldn’t he dream of his soulmate how he wanted to remember him? "Virgil, what happened? What day is it?"

"It's a dream, it can be whatever day we want it to be," Virgil replied, his throat raw and voice cracking as if he'd been crying. This was rather on the nose realistic for a dream.

"Check a phone, Virgil, this isn't a dream," Logan pleaded.

"I wish it wasn't a dream. I don't want to wake up and find you cold," Virgil sighed. Kinda a stupid dream if it wasn't going to be a happy one.

Logan reached over and pinched Virgil hard on the arm. With a yelp, he jerked back and fell out of the bed. Most dreams would have ended there but as he stood, Virgil could see those blue eyes focused on him. He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was on low battery but he could still read the date.

"It's November 3rd," Virgil read of the screen just before it went black.

"My birthday. I shouldn't be alive… why am I alive?"

"You can't be, that's why this is a dream?" Virgil wasn't so sure of himself anymore. Nothing in the room had changed from the night before but everything was bright and colored like his dreams.

Virgil smacked the side of his head with his palm. It hurt and Logan jumped at the sound. Dream Logan would have expected the sound.

"What was that for? Are you okay?" Logan looked alarmed. He tried to sit up in the bed. Virgil walked over and offered him a hand up. After glancing around the room, Logan accepted his hand and pulled himself up with Virgil’s help.

"So…" Virgil started.

"So," Logan answered.

"This isn't a dream."

"Not likely."

"The world is in color?"

"Yes. Your hoodie is purple and black, nothing like how I dreamed of it."

"Your eyes are blue."

"My dad always said they were. Yours are brown."

"Yeah, Nana always said she loved my eyes and hoped I'd see them someday."

"Why am I alive?"

Virgil shrugged, "miracle?"

After a long back and forth, Virgil and Logan came to the conclusion that Logan had indeed died that night but somehow had been brought back.

Virgil described how he'd tried to use his gift on Logan before midnight, how he'd broken down and cried over his soulmate for most of the night. Virgil vaguely remembered the kiss and whispered confession.

"That's it, your gift worked on me because I was dead. I wasn't spiritually present so you were physically able to bring me back and the soul followed," Logan's eyes were aflame with the complexity of the situation.

"Promise this isn't a dream?" Virgil sat on the edge of the bed and reached for Logan’s hand.

"I promise," Logan took his hand. It felt warm and good and solid and real.

Because it was real. Logan was real. He was here. To stay.

This is the story of how I died. Thank the stars I didn't stay dead.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 2, Ch. 4

PART 2: THE YEAR OF MISCHIEF AND SNEAKING AROUND Chapter 4 - The Forbidden Love

Nova

After rolling the events of the previous day in my head, I still couldn't believe that Snape actually gave us detention in the Forest. Of course, he thinks it's dangerous but he doesn't know that Charlie and I have been begging Hagrid to take us since last year.

Hagrid, who gave us nothing but excuses so far and it looked like what he promised Charlie last year seemed like an honest mistake and more as if he was kidding when he suggested it to him, won't get a chance to say no now. He doesn't really have a choice, does he!

I dressed quickly, careful not to wake up Tulip who was fast asleep. Poor lad, I have no idea when she returned from her detention with Filch last night. I hurried to the Great Hall where Charlie and I decided to have an early breakfast. The detention wasn't until later that evening but we just couldn't wait to talk about it.

He was sitting at the Gryffindor Table, leaning on one hand, sleepy as every morning, eating his cereal.

“Hi, Char.” I ruffled his messy hair and sat next to him.

“Well, isn't it just a lovely morning?” He grinned at me. I giggled. “Where are the girls?” He looked behind my shoulder.

“I reckon Tulip and Penny will skip breakfast. Tulip is fast asleep, I haven't got a clue when she came in last night. Poor lads, I don't want to know how their detention with Filch went.” I scratched my head.

“Polishing trophies without magic.” Scoffed Charlie. “That ought to be the most boring detention in history of detentions. I would've fallen asleep right there in the Trophy Room.”

“Wotcher, Charlie.” Tonks' tired voice greeting Charlie, sitting down, didn't say anything good about her detention. “Wotcher, Nova.” She looked at me now, she was exhausted.

She tried to open a box of cereal but seemed to be too weak to do so.

“Tonks, are you alright?” I tried sitting next to her.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” She put her hand up and stopped me. “I smell worst than the Dungbomb itself.” She yawned.

I sat back next to Charlie and leaned my head on his shoulder.

“Were you cleaning the mess in the Dungeons all night long, Tonks?” Charlie frowned at the idea.

“It's the next day already?” She yawned again, crossing her hands on the table and resting her head on them.

Charlie and I exchanged looks and decided it was better if we just leave her to rest a little. We would wake her before we go to class.

Charlie and I started to whisper about our detention. We couldn't wait to go down to Hagrid's and we both wondered where he will take us and what we will see. Charlie was very optimistic about finding a Dragon in the Forest, I on the other hand wasn't so sure. Of course, I didn't tell him that, looking into his sparkly eyes, hopeful to finally see and pet a Dragon. I wouldn't crush his dreams if I was tortured to do so.

To be honest, now that the day for us to go explore the Forest has finally arrived, it made me really wonder what creatures hid in there. Hagrid told us a lot about the creatures he has encountered but never revealed which of them are lurking in there as much as Charlie and I tried to trick him into telling us. Professor Rakepick did mention some of them in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class but didn't want to reveal too much either.

About 15 minutes later, Tulip and Penny dragged themselves into the Great Hall. Penny sat next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. She had to be exhausted as she didn't even do her braids this morning. Tulip sat down next to Tonks and leaned closer to her to see if she was alright.

She looked at us and nodded in greeting and slowly opened the box of cereal which Tonks left after her failed attempt to open it. Tulip indicated that we should talk when Tonks wakes up and she instead started to eat her breakfast. It looked as if the spoon was the heaviest object she has ever had to lift as she took it to her mouth sluggishly.

Penny suddenly rose from my shoulder as if waking up from a nightmare.

“I just took a quick nap. I'm fine.” She leaned towards the box of cereal.

“Could you leave that and take some porridge instead?” Whispered Charlie.

“Oh, of course. Here you go.” Penny wanted to pour the cereal into Charlie's bowl.

“No, no. I don't want to eat it. I want to take it to Helga.” He grinned.

“Helga?” Tulip's face looked puzzled.

“You know, the Squid in the Lake.” Charlie said casually as if he has told us about Helga many times before.

Penny, who only a minute ago, placed her head on my shoulder again, got up. “You mean the Giant Squid in the Black Lake?” She was stunned.

“The one that is the main reason why we're prohibited to swim in the Lake?” Added Tulip. Charlie nodded. I looked at the cereal and back at Charlie. I narrowed my eyes and looked at the cereal again and back at him.

“You're feeding it, aren't you?” I couldn't believe what I just asked.

Penny gasped and it seemed she was finally awake.

“You not only befriended the Giant Squid in the Black Lake and named it Helga but you're feeding it cereal?” Tulip looked bewildered.

“Yes, about once or twice per week. You should see her, she is so happy to see me every time.” Charlie couldn't be happier to talk about this.

“Yeah and while you're walking towards IT, it is definitely not happy to see you as a hamburger rather than the nice human that is feeding it cereal.” Charlie rolled his eyes at Penny's remark.

“I can't believe you are feeding the Giant Squid with cereal.” I giggled and couldn't help but notice that I was the only one amused by this.

“You're doing what?” Tonks suddenly lifted her head as if she just woke up and the only thing she heard was my last sentence.

“I feed the Giant Squid in the Lake.” Charlie beamed at Tonks.

“Wicked.” Was all she managed in reply as she put her head back on her arms.

“Uh-oh, angry-looking brother coming your way.” Penny said warningly as Charlie and I both looked at the entrance of the Great Hall.

It was Bill, walking toward us rather fast, frowning. Bill who has always been so loving and always had a soft expression on his face, now seemed like someone who you should definitely run away from.

“I think he found out I got detention.” Charlie, on the other hand, knew exactly what that look meant.

As Bill stopped at our table, Charlie turned around to face him, his cheeks slightly pink.

“You've gotten yourself in detention?” Bill tried to control his voice.

“Yes.” Charlie said slowly. “But it wasn't his fault.” I cut Charlie off. Bill now bestowed me with the same angry look and I couldn't help but shrink into the bench a little.

“And you!” He said to me. “How am I supposed to tell mum that you've both gotten detention AND that you are going into the Forbidden Forest! She is going to send me a Howler and then the whole school will think that...”

“That you're a bad brother, yeah, yeah. We know already.” Charlie obviously wasn't as scared of Bill as I was.

“That would've been my fault, mate.” Tonks said suddenly. We haven't even noticed she woke up, all of our heads turned to Bill.

“My bloody Dungbomb exploded right in Snape's face.” Bill, looking shocked, couldn't hide the amusement as he probably imagined the scene.

“Get off it Bill, we're going to be alright.” Charlie reassured him. “We're going with Hagrid, he'll keep us safe.”

“Not even Hagrid can keep you safe from what's in that Forest, Charles!” Bill frowned at his little brother again. I have never heard him use Charlie's full name before.

“Even if it wasn't your fault, mum will blame me! One day that I don't keep my eye on you and everything goes wrong.” Bill facepalmed himself.

“Uh, Bill...” I tried to gather the courage to say something to him. “We're going to be careful, we promise, don't we Charlie?” I poked Charlie in the ribs with my elbow. He nodded quickly at his brother.

“And...” I continued. “We'll write to Molly and explain everything. It's not your fault we got detention. If you kept an eye on us, you would've gotten detention too.”

“Yeah, probably polishing tro...phies.” Yawn Tulip.

“Or helping Tonks get the stench out of the Dungeon walls.” Added Penny.

Bill exhaled, feeling sorry for Tonks. Even he couldn't deny that the Forbidden Forest didn't look that bad now. He considered our proposal to write to Molly and finally gave in and sat down next to us. Charlie slapped his hand as he wanted to take the box of cereal.

Bill looked at me but I just shook my head. It was better that Bill doesn't know his little brother was feeding cereal to the Giant Squid. One shocking news at the time.

Since I couldn't wait for our detention in the evening, the classes were going as slow as ever. Snape, of course, didn't help the time go any faster in Potions as he made us all take notes on the Strengthening Solution, a potion we were going to brew next week. We didn't see the need for that as the instructions were quite clear in our books.

However, Penny and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing so just to get back at us some more. Even though Tulip, Penny, and I agreed that Tonks did quite a good job getting rid of the awful smell of the Dungbomb, it still found our noses here and there during class.

Charlie and I decided to go down to Hagrid's right after our last lesson. We thought it couldn't hurt to get an early start into the Forest. Hagrid, on the other hand, wasn't as amused as we were. He kept asking us if we've gotten ourselves in trouble on purpose and he kept muttering to himself what sounded like navigation instructions.

“Am only doin' this cause Professor Snape made me.” He frowned at us. “Should 'ave known, I'd 'ave to take yeh sooner or later.” He put on his coat. “Now, drink yeh tea and we'll be on our way.” Charlie and I both grabbed our mugs and started gulping down the liquid.

Hagrid gave us both, what looked like a poorly made jumper out of a very furry animal. “Gonna make you less noticeable, that will.” He said proudly and led us outside his hut, Fang right behind him.

“Alright, then. We'll enter 'ere.” He pointed at the narrow passage right behind his hut. “Don't think I'mma take yeh in too deep. Dangerous beasts live in this Forest.” Charlie frowned in disappointment.

We followed Hagrid inside, Fang next to me. We walked slowly as the path disappeared and the trees behind us made it look as if we have been walking for hours. The trees only got thicker and it got darker the further we walked.

“Oh-ho,” Hagrid looked up at a tree, “yeh see that over there?” He pointed up and only when I narrowed my eyes did I see something green on a dark-looking branch.

“Can either of yeh tell me what that is?” For the first time since we were in the Forest, he looked excited.

“A Bowtruckle!” I said a little too loudly and Hagrid put his finger up to his mouth in a sign that I should keep it down.

“Right yeh are, Nova.”

“'ere yeh go.” He took something out of his pocket and placed it in our hands. It looked like tiny eggs.

“Fairy eggs.” Charlie whispered to me.

“Now, be careful with these. They were expensive.” He winked at us and indicated that we should move closer to the Bowtruckle.

Charlie and I exchanged an exciting look and tiptoed to the tree where the Bowtruckle, now looking in our direction, sat.

Hagrid lowered his hands and we stepped onto his palms. He lifted us slowly so that we were on an eye level with the creature.

“Approach slowly.” He whispered to us. “Yeh don't wanna startle 'im.”

I took a Fairy egg from my left hand and showed it to the Bowtruckle. Its tiny eyes beamed.

“Bowtruckles love Fairy eggs. It's a delicacy of theirs.” Hagrid told us.

I placed the egg on the branch and gently pushed it towards the creature. The Bowtruckle took it at once and ate it in one gulp. Charlie squeaked in excitement. Now he gave one of the eggs to the creature and he ate it just as quickly. After we both ran out of eggs, we nudged Hagrid to bring us down.

“See, Hagrid. This wasn't so bad.” Charlie grinned. Hagrid couldn't help but smile at us.

Suddenly, a galloping noise was heard a little deeper in the Forest. Hagrid hid us behind him, as we all stood still and listened.

“Hagrid, is it a Centaur?” Charlie tried to hide his excitement.

Hagrid shook his head. “A Unicorn.”

“Could we go and see it?” I tried not to sound too excited.

It looked like Hagrid was considering it for a moment. “Oh, alright.” He finally agreed and we slowly moved deeper into the Forest.

Following the sounds the Unicorn made, which were almost indistinguishable from those of a horse or an Abraxan, we soon followed it and came upon a large meadow that seemed to come out of nowhere.

In the middle of it was a beautiful Unicorn. It moved slowly towards the edge of it. I have never seen anything so graceful before. I stared at it in awe, suddenly forgetting how to close my mouth.

“It's so beautiful.” I gasped.

“They are and they should be left in peace.” Hagrid pulled me back as I started walking towards it.

“But they prefer a woman's touch, Hagrid.” I pleaded.

“We're not disturbin' this creature's dinner, Nova. Yeh lucky that we even found one. Now, let's go back.” He started to turn around, pulling both me and Charlie away, as we couldn't take our eyes off the Unicorn.

We knew that we had to keep quiet on our way out of the Forest but Charlie and I kept looking at each other as we couldn't wait to discuss what we just saw. To both of our surprise, we were in the Forest for almost 4 hours. It felt like one to me.

After a cup of tea and us promising Hagrid that we won't get ourselves into more trouble or ask him again to go into the Forest, we headed back to the Castle.

“Did you see how silky-looking his fur was?” I beamed at Charlie.

“And the Moonlight reflecting off it!” He added.

“That Bowtruckle was so adorable! I wish we had more eggs.”

“I wonder where we could get them from?” Charlie scratched the top of his head.

We discussed possible options where to get the Fairy eggs all the way up to the Castle. We hugged, said goodbye, and headed to our Common Rooms as our ways parted at the top of the Grand Staircase, both knowing very well, we would do anything to get into that Forest again.

[babbushka]

Mind & Soul - Ch 7/10 (Part 1)

The story of how one man fell out of love and into it again

Charlie Barber x Reader

Tumblr masterlist for previous chapters // Available on AO3

6k; Warnings for angst, marital affairs, mentions of past infidelity, current infidelity 

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

You don't know what love is Until you've learned the meaning of the blues Until you've loved a love you had to loose You don't know what love is

                                                   Last April

 It’s been a month, since Nicole left. Charlie tries not to look at the calendar anymore, tries not to think of it in terms of days that she’s been gone. Charlie tries not to think about anything anymore in terms of her absence, he tries. It’s hard, when so much of the house was hers, has her presence.

It’s impossible to deny that things are different. He doesn’t smack his head on cabinet doors anymore, only has to pick up after one person instead of two. He doesn’t trip over her shoes or get frustrated when her laundry is thrown all over the floor. He can keep the windows open now, for however long he wants without her complaining about the air conditioning. He invites you over more and more, your time together less of a sharp secret. You have a key to the house, there’s an excuse now, for you to be around so much – and he takes it and holds it tight against his chest, you being around.

Those are good things, and he holds onto them, the good things.

She has been gone for a month. Thirty-one days, to be exact, but who’s counting?

Charlie’s counting.

Henry’s counting too.

Charlie’s taken it upon himself to pretend like everything is normal, and he forces himself to believe that it’s going well. Every morning he wakes Henry up and tells him to get dressed, gets himself dressed. They brush their teeth together mostly so that Charlie can make sure he’s doing it for long enough, and then Charlie starts making breakfast.

He doesn’t burn the muffins or the bagels in the toaster oven anymore, he learned that lesson the hard way that first time, that first morning. Sometimes he runs late for work and has to rush out the door with Henry, other days they somehow have enough time to talk about each other’s dreams they had the night before over french toast.

This is one of those times where Charlie can’t stop checking his watch, where he’s scrambling to hurry hurry hurry, because he’s got something big, something huge that could potentially walk through the door at work, and he needs to be there if it does.

“Henry, come on honey, breakfast time.” Charlie calls out to wherever his son went for a moment.

“What are we having?” Henry asks, bounding into the kitchen in a mis-matched outfit that doesn’t really go together. Charlie doesn’t have the frame of mind to care too much, Henry can wear what he likes, who gives a shit if it goes together? Charlie’s the one who has to keep himself together, not Henry.

“Cereal.” Charlie fishes out the box from the pantry and puts it on the table, and Henry sighs.

“We had cereal for breakfast yesterday.” He complains, going to the fridge anyway.

“There are kids who don’t get to eat breakfast at all, you know.” Charlie’s not looking, he’s doing up his tie in the reflection of the little mirror that hangs on the wall. The fucking knot isn’t coming out right, and he doesn’t have the time for this – he doesn’t --

“Dad?” Henry interrupts his thoughts apprehensively.

“What?” Charlie turns then, gives up and figures he’ll just do it on the fucking subway.

“We’re out of milk.” Henry shakes the carton and they can both hear the sloshing of only an inch of milk left.

Charlie wants to scream, because he hates when people leave only an inch of milk left without saying anything, but he doesn’t even know anymore if he’s the one who did that, and he sure as shit isn’t going to scream at Henry, but he doesn’t have the time to make anything more substantial for breakfast.

“No milk? Okay, um, how about I make us some – ” He tries to think out loud.

“Can I have ice cream?” Henry asks randomly, and Charlie frowns, looks at his watch, tries to figure out if Henry is kidding.

“No, it’s six o’clock in the morning.” Charlie shakes his head eventually, blinks and thinks and is in desperate need of a cigarette. “Here, come on why don’t we get breakfast on the way to school. Go get your backpack, we can go grocery shopping when you’re out of school, okay?”

That appeases Henry enough to stop with the questions for two seconds, and Charlie drags a hand through his hair, runs it down over his face. He looks exhausted, and that’s because he feels exhausted, but he just chugs a mug of black coffee that’s way too hot and tries not to grimace as it hits his empty stomach.

 There’s a place around the corner from Henry’s school that has the best breakfast sandwiches Charlie’s ever eaten. He’s gone there a couple of times with you, back in the beginning, way back when you were just friends. Back when he was falling in love with you but too terrified to say anything, too worried you’d reject him, worried you’d tell him to stay away.

You’d sit and order a sandwich and Charlie would order a coffee and the two of you would share the other’s while you smiled behind the screens of your laptops and tried to pretend this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Now he knows, you both know -- it never was, was it?

He almost wants to call you up and ask if you’ll join, but he knows you’re asleep still, it’s early still. He’ll call you soon, when he knows you’ll be awake, flipping through the newspaper out in the backyard like you like to do.

He’ll call you then.

For now, he and Henry are leaving the place around the corner with mouthfuls of egg and cheese.

“Here, hold my hand we’re crossing the street.” Charlie says as they approach the sidewalk and wait for the light to turn red like all the other pedestrians. He offers a couple spare fingers to his son and emphasizes around a croissant, “Hold my hand Henry.”

“You’re carrying too much stuff.” Henry remarks, and Charlie huffs out a laugh that’s also a sigh.

He’s got his messenger bag, and a briefcase, and a couple folders and a brown lunch bag and a cup of coffee from the corner store, and he looks down at this mess in his arms and wonders when the mess started reflecting his life – or if it were vice versa.

“Next time I won’t carry so much okay, but we have to hurry I’ve got a big meeting today, and if it goes well, when we’re at the grocery store how about I get us stuff for ice cream sundaes to celebrate, okay? Does that sound like fun?” Charlie tries to be a fun parent, a good parent, a decent one, anyway.

He also really just wants to get his kid to school so he can run to the subway and fix his tie.

“Yes!” Henry has a skip in his step about that, and Charlie walks faster faster faster, trying to make it on time so that Henry’s there before the bell.

“Is your bagel good?” He asks as they rush, as that skip in Henry’s step turns to a bit of a jog from the effort of trying to keep up.

“Uh huh – dad!” He complains right as he stumbles over a lip in the sidewalk, and Charlie immediately realizes he’s been pulling on Henry’s arm too tight, going too fast, and his stomach drops.

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, we’re okay, you’re okay.” He crouches down to make sure Henry didn’t get hurt at all. He hugs Henry right in front of all the other parents hugging their kids, and he tries to stop his heart from racing. “That was my bad, I’m sorry. You’re okay. Have a good day at school, okay? Remember everything so you can tell me all about it when I pick you up, alright?”

“Bye dad!” Henry nods and then he’s running up the steps to go meet with his friends.

Charlie stays there until he’s sure Henry is inside safely as the bell rings rings rings, an alarm going off inside Charlie’s head as he snaps into action, rearranges all the shit in his arms so he can run to the subway station.

 You don't know how lips hurt Until you've kissed and had to pay the cost Until you've flipped you're heart and you have lost You don't know what love is

 “You’re late.” She says, when he finally bursts into the building space above the theater, where everyone’s been waiting around for him to show up.

He’s out of breath, his tie is crooked, he’s jumpy and pissed off because he nearly missed the stop on the subway again and he checks his watch, nearly has to steel himself for it.

“No I’m not.” He says, wills it to be true.

“Well you almost are.” His stage manager nags at him and he’s frustrated at himself and at Nicole and at the world.

“Almost isn’t late, Mary Ann, now could you just – ”

“Hey I was wondering – ”

“No, Mary Ann, could you just let them know I’m here?” He interrupts him interrupting her, snaps a little too hard.

He hasn’t thought about her, about Mary Ann. Doesn’t think about the awful sex he had once upon a time when he wished he was having sex with you, back before he had the courage to be with you. He’s a bastard for getting her hopes up, because it’s clear that her hopes are up now, now that Nicole’s gone.

He doesn’t have the time for her, he never really did, and he knows that’s a shitty thing to think, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

“Sure thing Charlie.” She says eventually, no longer coy, no longer twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

He feels bile rise up in the back of his throat as he pushes past her, greets the rest of his troupe on his way to the small room which serves as his office. He gets to sit for exactly thirty seconds, doesn’t even have a chance to fix his fucking tie, before the door opens again and two men in crisp suits are stepping inside.

Charlie stands up behind his desk, squares his shoulders with false confidence and extends a hand.

They’re a pair of brothers, these men, brothers with exorbitant wealth and who pride themselves on being a patron of the arts. Charlie’s only ever heard of them in passing, he’s never been contacted, never even seen them in person.

And yet here they are, in Charlie’s little studio, in their smart suits.

Charlie’s going to scream.

“Hello gentlemen, it’s great to meet you in person.” He smiles with what he hopes is a casual sort of warmth. He wants to make a good impression on these people – he needs to.

“Likewise Mr. Barber! I must admit we were so impressed with your show, I myself came to see it twice.” One of them, Tom – or maybe this one is Jerry? He never can tell – takes a look at some of the awards that Charlie’s hung up on the walls.

Well, actually you’re the one who hung them up, ages ago. You’re the one who had gotten them framed and put up on the wall as a surprise for him one day, the thought of you sneaking in here way too early still makes him smile.

He’s smiling now, despite everything, smiling because he’s thrilled that they like his work, that they like him.

“I’m honored, thank you. Please have a seat – can I offer you anything to drink?” Charlie gestures to the two chairs on the other side of the desk, and tries not to feel a rush of power. Is this how big money CEOs felt?

“No, that’s alright.” The other brother, Jerry-Tom waves his offer away, and Charlie thinks no, that’s the power big money CEOs felt, “Listen, Mr. Barber, we’d like to cut right to the chase.”

“We’d like to finance your next project.” Tom-Jerry says with a nod of agreeance, and Charlie wishes that they did take a seat so he could too and not be rude.

“Really?” He asks, braces himself against the desk ever so slightly.

“Yes, really. We feel that you are a well established writer and director, and the MacArthur grant only solidifies this in our mind. Congratulations, by the way.” Jerry-Tom replies with a smug smile behind his circular turtle-shell glasses.

“Thank you very much, I’m – well I’m speechless.” Charlie can’t help but laugh, can’t help but run his hand through his hair because he’s so elated! He can’t believe that they actually meant it, that they actually wanted to work together, he –

The phone in his pocket buzzes buzzes buzzes, and it catches Charlie off-guard; hadn’t he set it to Do Not Disturb?

He remembers that the function doesn’t work for emergency contacts, and when he peeks at the screen on the table where it’s lighting up, the caller ID is of the elementary school, and Charlie’s heart nearly stops.

“Is everything alright?” Jerry-Tom asks, concerned.

“Yes – I’m, I’m so sorry, it’s my son’s school calling.” Charlie picks the phone up, fear cold and blinding as it drips down his into his stomach, “Would you excuse me for a minute?”

He’s out of the office before they even have a chance to respond.

He doesn’t go far, just steps outside the door into the little hallway, big thumb immediately hitting the button to accept the call as he holds it up to his ear, praying nothing happened, he doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened.

“Mr. Barber? This is – ”

“Is Henry alright?” Charlie doesn’t have the patience to be polite, not when his hands sweat and his heart pounds and he’s so tense he feels like he could snap into a thousand tiny pieces.

“Yes he’s fine, he says he forgot to get his workbook from home before arriving at school, is it possible you could bring it in? I hate to bother you but we’re using it extensively today.” The teacher says, and Charlie’s almost stunned by how innocuous the issue is.

He had nearly whipped up a whole scenario where Henry was being whisked away to the hospital right that very second, and the whiplash of it only being forgotten homework or whatever the fuck it was, has him stuttering all over the place.

“Uh, yeah, I can have someone drop it off.” Charlie says, already pulling the phone away from his face.

“Thank you, have a nice day.” The teacher says something along those lines, but he doesn’t really know because he’s hanging up on her, dialing your number as fast as he can.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” He whispers into the phone, willing you to pick up, checking his watch, begging the powers that be that you’ll answer, that you’re awake.

“Hey honey.” Your groggy voice crackles to life, probably the first time you’re using your voice for the day.

If this were any other circumstance, he’d savor that feeling, the way your voice is like velvet being rubbed the wrong way in the mornings, before you’ve had your coffee you’re still like satin like silk like everything he’s not good enough for.

But there are rich men in his office and they’re waiting for him and so is Henry and the teacher and the world and he doesn’t have the time to savor it even though he desperately wants to.

“(Y/N) I’m so fucking sorry to bother you but can you go into the house and find Henry’s workbook? It’s blue and has letters on it and a hippo. He left it I think on the dining room table?” The urgency in his voice bleeds through to you, because he can never really hold himself back around you.

“You got it, I’m going right now.” You say, and he can hear the rustling of your sheets and his heart soars.

“Thank you so fucking much, thank you, I’d do it but I’m literally in the middle of a meeting.” He’d drop down to his knees if you were there, he’s so filled with gratitude.

“Go, don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You’re blowing kisses into the phone quickly, that urgency of his now transferred to you.

“Thank you, I love you.” He says, hanging up the phone on you and feeling awful about it, before trying to get a fucking grip.

He takes a deep breath, sets his phone back in his pocket, and appears cool as a cucumber as he re-enters his office.

“So sorry gentlemen, where were we?” He returns behind his desk, giving them a friendly smile that suggested all was well.

“The new project, we’ve been hearing buzz that you and your wife have been rehearsing a script but have been struggling to find additional funding for the more…avant-garde aspects.” Tom-Jerry says.

Charlie’s entire stomach plummets.

Sometimes, Charlie really isn’t so sure if he can take much more.

“My wife.” He repeats, the words sounding robotic to his ears.

“Yes, Nicole Barber? She was superb in the previous show.” Tom-Jerry confirms, and he realizes that he must have said something wrong, because he can see the color drain from Charlie’s face.

“Thank you. She um.” He tries not to scream the words, tries not to shout them out until he’s hoarse, tries not to go down the rabbit hole of she left she hates me she doesn’t work with me anymore I don’t want to work with her I don’t like her I don’t love her don’t call her my wife she’s not my fucking wife she hasn’t been for a long time. Instead he swallows that down, says, “We’re no longer together, she lives in Los Angeles now.”

“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that.” They say almost in unison, and Charlie tries tries tries to get a grip.

He needs more coffee than the shitty cup of corner store brew, maybe he’ll ask Mary Ann to get him some.

That thought makes him feel like shit.

“It’s – the new play is on hold, I’ve been working on something else that’s new with the troupe, if you’d like you’re more than welcome to hear the treatment.” Charlie offers meekly, wondering if they’ll even want him now, wondering if he’s any fucking good on his own.

“If you wrote it, we’re sure it’s worth it.” Jerry-Tom seems to be a mind reader, and Charlie doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry, and maybe Jerry-Tom can tell, because he checks his watch politely with a, “Perhaps we can come back at a later date – ”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m sorry, please, you have my undivided attention.” Charlie does sit then, and he doesn’t care if it’s unprofessional or not, he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t think his legs can hold him up anymore, he thinks he might be sick if he keeps standing.

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

They talk well into the afternoon, past the lunch hour. It’s so refreshing, Charlie thinks, now that he’s calmed down, now that he’s back in his element. The brothers (he finally learns their names) ask for the treatment, they like it. They ask to watch rehearsals, they love it. The troupe is on cloud nine, Charlie is over the moon. He wants to tell you all about it, wants to – he realizes the time just then, it’s nearly four o’clock.

Henry gets out of school at three-fifteen.

He doesn’t think he’s ever called rehearsals closed and ran out of the office that quickly in his entire fucking life.

He runs from the theater to the subway, from the subway to the station, from the train to the house. His phone buzzes buzzes buzzes in his pocket, and he sees ten missed messages from you, three missed calls.

You’re calling him now.

“(Y/N)?” He shoves the phone against his ear, heart racing, running running running.

“Charlie where are you?” You ask, and you’re worried, and something about that worry pangs his chest too harsh, makes him stop around the corner, has to brace himself on a lamppost.

“Shit I’m so – I’m so fucking sorry I’m literally running to you now, I’m – ”

“Deep breaths, it’s okay. I picked him up, we’re at your house. You have like no food here, you know that? Do you want me to – ”

“I’m coming, I’m right here I’m here.” You and Charlie talk over each other all the way until he reaches the front door, until he wrenches it open and is faced with you and his son in the living room, making drawings with crayons. He puts his hands on his hips and tries very hard not to look like he just ran fifteen blocks, “Hey Henry!”

“You said you’d pick me up.” Henry’s not happy, he doesn’t even bother to look up at Charlie from where he’s drawing a very elaborate looking robot.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m.” Charlie really has to catch his breath, there’s a pain in his side that he presses a hand to, has to lean on the credenza. “I’m sorry. But you got to spend some time with (Y/N), and that’s fun, isn’t it?”

Charlie looks at you with wide pleading eyes, and he can tell that you’re itching to hold him, itching to get your arms around him.

And that fucking kills him, it kills him. Because even now that Nicole is gone, he still can’t have you. Not yet, he can’t yet. It’s all too up in the air, all too uncertain, too soon. He could scream, with how unfair it is – even from a thousand miles away she’s still fucking him over.

He wants to pull you into his arms and hold you tight and kiss you in front of Henry, and he wants it to not be a big deal. But he can’t, because it would be, because he’s still married, technically. He’s still got a wife, technically. One who could show up again any day now and she’d see – she’d know, about the affair. If he lets himself have this now, have you now, the whole world would know about the affair.

And then she would surely take everything away from him, and he doesn’t…he can’t risk that.

You know, he can tell that you know because even though your hands are literally stopping themselves from reaching out to him, you’re not angry about it. You’ve never been angry with Charlie, not in any real way.

You’re probably the only person who isn’t, anymore.

Henry’s angry, coloring away.

“Yeah.” Henry says, and it’s clipped, and Charlie knows he should back off and give his son space, but he sits himself down next to Henry on the couch instead.

You’re over in the armchair, the one that only you ever really seem to sit in. Charlie’s begun to think of it as your chair, your little space in this home. In a sea of reminders of Nicole, that armchair is a safe haven, an island where he can safely come ashore.

“Hey why don’t we all go grocery shopping together, I’ll even let you push the cart.” Charlie offers, knowing that the incentive might earn him some brownie points.

“You will?” Henry takes the bait, and he peeks out at the side of his eye at Charlie, who pretends not to notice.

“Yup, and we’ll get the stuff for sundaes too.” He nods, and this makes him perk up entirely.

“Really?” He asks with a smile now, and Charlie takes in a breath of relief.

“You bet, remember how I said I had a big meeting? It went great, and that’s why I was late, and I’m sorry and it’ll never happen again, okay?” He apologizes, really means it, and Henry can tell.

Henry wraps his arms around Charlie’s middle, presses his face against Charlie’s chest and lets out a sigh himself.

“Okay.” He nods, and Charlie rubs his back for a minute, feeling awful for fucking up so badly like this. Then he asks something that makes Charlie’s heart warm so much that he wonders if Henry can feel it from where his face is still smushed, “(Y/N) will you come too?”

Charlie looks at you, and you smile, and he wishes you could join the hug, wishes you could sit yourself right next to him and he could hold you too. But he can’t, so you only smile from the armchair that he’s decided is yours and you nod.

“I can pick some stuff up for my house, yeah.” You say, and that seals the deal.

 Do you know how a lost heart fears The thought of reminiscing And how lips have taste of tears Lose the taste for kissing

You drive to the supermarket together. Charlie drives and you sit in the passenger seat, and Henry sits in the back trying his best to read aloud the slogans on the reusable shopping bags. He’s getting better, Charlie has been helping him more and more. He always helped him with his schoolwork, but now…he maybe has been overcompensating Nicole’s absence, she used to help him too.

But he’s trying, and he’s getting better because of the practice, and Charlie can’t stop smiling about it. He can’t stop smiling in general, because for the first time in a month, with you and him all heading to the grocery store, things feel normal, things feel like they could pass for a normal, every day family.

If someone pulled up to them at a red light, they wouldn’t know that he’s a single father cheating on his wife with his best friend, desperately trying to hang on and adjust to this new way of living and working in the wake of Nicole’s selfish absence -- they’d just see the three of you singing along to the radio.

And that’s a really shitty fucking feeling, Charlie thinks. Because he could have that, he could have had that for so long. He could have had the balls to just tell Nicole he didn’t love her anymore, that he didn’t want to be together anymore, and then maybe none of this would have happened. A year of hiding and sneaking around, months of sleeping on the couch or in the theater or in a hotel with you.

But he didn’t do any of that, and now here you all are, getting out of the car at the fucking grocery store of all places – what was more domestic than this?

“Okay, let’s see what’s on the list…” Charlie says, as he unfolds a little piece of lined paper that you had been working on while Henry colored, “I know, Henry why don’t you go and pick out what kind of ice cream you want for tonight, can you do that for me?”

“Yes!” Henry says, taking his job very seriously and going straight to the dairy section, while you and Charlie grab a cart from the little spot by the front door.

With Henry on his mission, Charlie lets his shoulders sag a little.

“The meeting went well?” You ask with a small smile, wanting to bring him back to happy, always trying to bring him back to happy.

You walk down one of the aisles, a random one that’s got absolutely nothing on the list, but one that’s blissfully empty, a rarity on an afternoon like this. Charlie follows, because he’ll always follow you, and you both stare at a random assortment of pet food, for pets you don’t own, and it feels all too similar to your secret meetings back in the beginning.

Meetings where you and Charlie would plan to do your groceries at the same time, just so you could have some time together at all. Together but apart, that’s how it had always been, hadn’t it? Even now, though you’re standing so close to one another, your shoulders barely brushing, he’s painfully aware that still you have to wait.

But…but you are so close, and your shoulders are just barely brushing, and he could…if he wanted to, he could take a half step closer to you and hold your hand.

It’s been a month, since she left. Surely that was long enough to excuse this small action, this gesture of friendship, wasn’t it? He doesn’t have a very strong will when it comes to holding himself back from you, and even though he wants to kiss you in the middle of the fucking pet food aisle, he lets himself have this, a few of your fingers wrapped around a few of his own.

“They want to finance the play.” Charlie says, because he’s told you about it over glasses of warm drinks late at night while Henry sleeps, the rumors about the brothers.

You forget yourself for a minute, and you wrap him up in a big congratulatory hug, and he hugs you back, because for the first time in so long he has someone he can share good news with, someone who is actually happy for him, someone who cares.

“That’s amazing!” You say too loud, and you laugh out in excitement and he laughs too, and you’re holding onto each other as someone bumps their cart into yours and try to reach around for a can of purina.

You detangle yourselves, the reminder that you’re out in the world a little too harsh, but still you both beam at one another, your happiness infectious.

“Thank you.” Charlie laughs, feeling good about something, feeling good about being with you, even in the strained way you have to be together. He sighs then though, scrubs a hand down his face. “Thank you again, for earlier, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to spring that on you.”

You loop your arm around his in the way that you sometimes do when the both of you walk around anonymously in Times Square, the crook of your elbows hooking around each other in the way that Charlie’s heart wants to wrap around yours all the time.

“You can always spring shit on me, okay?” You say softly, sincerely, “I’m here for you, you and Henry. I mean that.”

He looks at you, and he can feel his heart beat in his throat because what if he kissed you, right there? What if he leaned down and put his lips on yours for just a second? He looks around and maybe now he’s being suspicious, maybe now he’s getting himself paranoid, because the more he looks the more it feels like everyone else in the grocery store knows that this is an affair.

He has no idea when Henry is going to come back, so he decides not to risk it, the kiss.

His lips burn, but he can’t risk it.

“Would you join us for dinner and ice cream tonight? Sometimes when it’s just the two of us, I think he can feel the weight of her absence.” Charlie asks instead, not letting your arm go.

“How are you holding up?” You ask instead of answering, because the both of you know that his question is really a formality, of course you’ll come over, you’ll always come over. Charlie keeps asking you to come over and you always say yes.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if you ever say no.

You rest your head on his shoulder for a second, as he thinks and thinks and thinks about his answer, tries not to sound pathetic about it.

“I don’t think I am.” He chews on the inside of his cheek, growing frustrated and angry and he tries to blink away tears of frustration as he spills his thoughts on the grocery store floor. “I mean, am I? I wake up, I get dressed, I take care of him and then I try to work and then I come home and take care of him and try to answer his questions and then I lie awake in bed so fucking angry that I could scream. I’m so angry all the time that she’s the one who did this – not to me, but to him.”

He runs a hand through his hair, and you’re patient and you listen to him and Charlie wants to kiss you.

“I – I feel sick about it but I’m so fucking happy that she’s gone I just wish she hadn’t left like this. I wish it could have been something I had any say in, because god knows I have so much to say. And part of me feels like a shitty dad because there’s stuff about Henry that I don’t know because he never told me, even though I try so hard to be there for him all the time, and I try to learn everything I can. I try. But then I fuck up and I wonder if I even know anything about him at all.”

He's breathing hard and getting himself frustrated but you just rest your head on his shoulder, and you squeeze his arm in yours in a reassuring way, and suddenly, suddenly it seems like all his troubles melt away.

“You’re not a shitty father.” You say, “You’re a good father, in a shitty situation.”

How do you always know what to say?

He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve anything that you give him.

“I’m sorry.” He replies, but for what he isn’t so sure. There’s too much, that he could apologize for, how is he supposed to choose?

“Don’t.” You say, pulling away from him, taking the list out of his hand, because really he needs to snap back to reality, needs to stop bitching in the middle of this pet food aisle.  “Now what kind of laundry detergent do you get?”

“It’s orange!” Henry’s voice pipes up from behind them, and you and Charlie separate further as fast as you can.

“Henry don’t scare people like that.” Charlie startles, tips of his ears going red. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? What had he seen?

Charlie almost wants to ask, but Henry is bright-eyed and happy, arms filled with pints of flavors of ice cream that normally Charlie wouldn’t dare entertain. He doesn’t look upset or angry or even curious in that way he always is when he sees something he doesn’t really understand, so Charlie counts his lucky fucking stars that Henry must have just only now walked over from the freezer section.

“The laundry, it’s orange.” Henry repeats himself, dumping all the stuff into the cart and pushing his way in front of Charlie to get his hands around the railing, assuming control of the cart the way Charlie had promised.

You and Charlie look at each other and shared a look that practically screams holy shit that was close, and then you’re smiling out your nerves, walking alongside Henry down to the laundry detergent aisle and happily chatting with him, “Thank you, come and help us find the other colors, hm?”

Charlie watches the two of you walk, watches you smile and laugh, and when you throw a look over your shoulder at him and reach out a hand, he’s practically compelled to take it.

You don't know how hearts burn For love that cannot live, yet never dies Until you've faced each dawn with sleepless eyes How could you know what love is, what love is What love is

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

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[creepy-spooghetti]

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 4 - Take Me Away, A Secret Place

———

The morning eventually comes, and it brings the bright, cheerful sunlight with it, much to Y\n's relief. The golden rays shine in through her window pane, forcing her to press a hand to her eyes and give herself a chance to adjust to the light invading her vision. She's kept herself awake for the whole rest of the night, starting from when she woke up from that horrific nightmare at around eleven-thirty and absolutely, under any circumstances, refused to go back to sleep.

Troubling subjects have been laying heavy on her mind for the past six hours, and no matter what she does to rid herself of them, it never works. At least, it hasn't yet. She's tried scrolling through the internet, watching YouTube videos, she even started another painting, though she only managed a few brush strokes before she scrapped it altogether and fell to the floor in a tired rage.

She isn't going to deny the fact that she's mentally exhausted, from both the lack of sleep and anxiety that's been creeping through her nerves the entire day thus far. After around two hours of laying in bed, she decided to get up and go downstairs for a glass of water. Then she decided against it, mainly due to the fact that she already had a perfectly good bottled water sitting right beside her bed. She considered wandering down to watch some TV, or eat some food, or virtually anything she could do to get her mind off of what had happened, but also blew off that idea fairly quickly.

She didn't want to be the reason for her grandparents waking up, especially because of a stupid little dream. Even though she, herself, knows that it wasn't just a 'stupid little dream'. Whether it has a deeper meaning or not, it terrified her, and that's all the convincing she needs to not want to have one like it, or one even worse. She just fears that she would be scolded for having such childish agitation over something that, in all reality, can't even physically hurt her.

Well... the things in her head can't hurt her. But what she saw... was that really in her head? Sure, one could blame paranoia, panicked delusions, a tired, frantic state that made her hallucinate something that wasn't really there. Like sleep paralysis, though she knows for a fact that she wasn't experiencing sleep paralysis.

So what was it? Maybe a strangely-shaped tree bent by the light in the right way to make it look scary? Some type of humanoid animal? Or perhaps it was just her imagination playing tricks on her, after all? She isn’t entirely sure, but she does know that whatever it was, it was unsettling and very out-of-place.

And then there’s the nightmare. That is the second time in barely three days that she’s had a nightmare like that. Sure, bad dreams are no stranger to her; she’s been experiencing them since she was a little kid, though they became more common after her life started to fall apart. But none of them were like that. Her mind had never been in such a gut-wrenching, sinister state before, and it deeply concerns her.

What would make her think up such a scenario? Her cousin, one of her very best childhood friends, being dead? Right before her very eyes? She’s thought, maybe it has something to do with the odd conversation that she shared with her grandfather just a day prior? But he didn’t say anything that should ever make her think anyone was murdered. Especially Wyatt.

Although it’s still a mystery to her, she knows that nothing like that could’ve happened during her long absence… right? If it had, someone would have called her dad to inform him, then he would have told her. He isn’t the best person or the best father by any stretch, but surely he wouldn’t keep her in the dark about something so horrific, right?

She’s tried to forget about it, even though she knows that it’s likely going to be something that sticks with her for quite a while, and she’s tried to calm herself down. It was just a dream. Nothing more. She hasn’t anything to worry about. It was just a startling vision that her mind created to scare her. It’s all the stress finally getting her, that’s all.

A feeling of dread and terror has settled inside of her stomach, and though it has faded considerably since she awoke, it’s still there and very present, plaguing her mind, repeating the nightmare over and over again in her head, making her miserable. As if it’s saying, “The worst has yet to come”.

She will ask Nana and Pops. She will get to the bottom of why her aunt, uncle, and Wyatt never, supposedly, come down to visit. Once she gets them to answer, finds out why her grandpa was acting so suspicious yesterday, gets it through her head that it isn’t as bad as she’s made herself think it is, then maybe, just maybe, she won’t be bombarded with such terrible thoughts each time she tries to sleep.

She blinks, adjusting to the bright, bulbous orb that slowly appears from behind the trees, and watching as the stars fade away, the moon following close behind them. The sky changes from a deep, royal blue to a vivid maya in the span of only a few minutes.

Her eyelids feel heavy, and even without checking the time she knows it has to be around six-thirty to seven in the morning based on the low place that the sun rests in the sky. She leans her back against the wall, letting out a soft, distressed sigh and allowing her eyes to shut for but a brief moment. Any more and she would drift back off to sleep, and she doesn’t want to do that. Not any time soon. Not until she’s been reassured that nothing like what her dream suggested actually happened.

Rubbing her eyes to rid herself of the drowsy feeling still messing with her senses, she sits up fully in her bed, finally able to convince herself that now would be a good time to go downstairs and start her day. Quietly, of course, so she doesn’t wake her grandparents.

Maybe she can make them breakfast like Nana has done for her so many times, recently and in the past. She’s never been a very skilled cooker, but she can make simple things like scrambled eggs, bacon, and French toast. What’s the worst that can happen? Okay, she can set the kitchen on fire, or make the stove explode, or overcook/undercook everything and give the residents of the household food poisoning, but she prefers not to think of those unlikely—but possible— outcomes.

With a small mental protest, she wearily rises out of bed, walking over to her closet to find some decent clothes for the day and changing into mentioned clothes before heading toward the bathroom, although somewhat cautiously. She’s still on-edge about the events that took place mere hours ago, and she figures that she probably will be until she can get another, more light-hearted subject on her mind. Like making breakfast for two people she loves. It sounds like a fool-proof plan to her, and she fully intends to stick to it.

She isn’t exactly sure what time they wake up, but her guess is somewhere between seven-thirty to eight, or even eight-twenty-five. The hall is still considerably dark, thanks to there being no windows around to light it up a bit, and it makes her nerves spike as she hurries to the targeted room.

Once there, she closes the door quietly and turns on the light, her eyes falling on the mirror straight in front of her, and she leans against the sink, studying her reflection with a blank mind. Her hair has most definitely seen better days, though that’s something easily fixable. Her eyes are the problem.

They look almost completely drained of energy, and the dark rings right beneath them make it clear that she didn’t rest well the night before. She dips her head down after turning on the faucet and splashes cool water against her face, hoping to get rid of some of that ‘I just woke up and I’m exhausted’ look that her reflection stares back at her with.

Her eyes get wider and already, she feels more alert and aware of her surroundings; the exact thing she was wanting to accomplish. She then does everything she deems necessary before she goes back out, snatching her phone from off of her bed and her Bluetooth wireless earbuds, and trekking down the stairs, taking joy in the fact that natural, bright light is shooting through the windows and illuminating the majority of the main floor.

She spots Marshmallow sitting atop a chair, seemingly content grooming himself and only sparing her a short, unphased glance as she appears at the bottom of the staircase. Smiling lightly, she makes her way over to him and squats to his level, currently not caring if she interrupts his self-given bath, stroking his head in greeting and giving him an affectionate kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, little buddy,” she says, her voice lowered as she gingerly scratches his chin. “You having a good morning?” His mouth latches around her finger, not hard enough to make her bleed but she’s certain his sharp teeth will leave indents for a few minutes once they’ve left. She pulls her hand back and rolls her eyes. “Yeah? Me, too.”

She stands back up and straightens her posture, catching a glimpse of the front door before she looks back down at him curiously.

“You ready to go out?” She points at the door, and he seems to get the gist of what she’s saying because he releases a meow of protest and stretches his body out. “Well, I know it’s early.” She crosses her arms. “That doesn’t mean you can’t go hunting or whatever.” Marshmallow jumps from his position on the chair and walks toward his empty food bowl, looking back at Y\n expectantly. “Oh, c’mon. You’re perfectly capable of going out and getting your own food.”

She’s met with a loud and, frankly impatient, meow, and she huffs but begins her small journey to the pantry nonetheless.

“Fine, fine. You win.” When she arrives, she gazes idly through the various cans of food, bags of flour, and boxes of cereal and rice and beans, trying to locate the bag of branded cat food she knows has to be in here. “Last time I was here, they kept it in this room…” She mutters to herself, bending down to look beneath the shelves. Her eyes land on a red and white bag, the top ripped open and a metal scoop resting inside.

Instantly recognizing it as her desired item thanks to the large cat head printed on the front, she takes the handle of the scoop and dips it farther into the brown pebbles of cat food, walking back out soon after and dumping it in Marshmallow's bowl. He lets out a satisfied meow and sticks his nose into it briefly, as if checking that it isn't fake, before seeming content enough and beginning to eat it.

Y\n pats him on the head and returns the scoop to its rightful place inside of the pantry, closing the door behind her and going to the kitchen. She turns on the overhead light, enabling her to see a lot better than she could previously, and grabs different ingredients from the fridge, including a carton of large eggs, cheese, water, vanilla extract, syrup, and a pack of bacon. Then she moves to collect salt and pepper, a loaf of Sunbeam bread, cooking oil, a whisk, a mixing bowl, three separate skillets, and three plates.

Happy that Nana has all of the stuff that she needs in order to create this easy and, hopefully, good-quality breakfast, she puts in her earbuds, turns on some music, and begins by mixing up the scrambled eggs and putting a few strips of bacon on a skillet. Not having made breakfast in quite a while, she's a bit rusty, and it takes a few moments to remember what exactly she's supposed to do, though she gets the hang of it pretty quickly, and in around thirty-five minutes, she has the food all ready to eat and is washing up the used dishes after dividing everything up and pouring them onto plates.

I wonder when they'll get up... she thinks, glancing at the food then at the staircase that leads up to their bedroom. Breakfast will get cold if they don't come down soon. As if on cue, she hears a set of heavy footsteps from upstairs as they stop by and go into what she assumes to be the bathroom. Drying her hands, she grabs two of the three plates, walking into the dining room and setting them on the rectangle table before going to get the third one. As she passes the door again, she sees Marshmallow sitting and pawing at its surface, not-so-subtly implying what he expects of her.

She inwardly sighs and looks down at him with a raised eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip. "Really? Now you want to go out?" She receives a 'meow' in response, and she rolls her eyes but unlocks the door nonetheless, Marshmallow standing and backing away to ensure he doesn't get hit by it swinging open and then waiting for her to push the screen open. On his way out, he rubs against her leg and lightly flicks his tail in her direction, a gesture she takes as appreciation before he jumps off the porch and disappears around the corner of the house.

Around that time, she hears a door on the second floor open and that same pair of footsteps walking closer to the staircase, and she turns her head to look behind her, seeing her grandpa cautiously making his way down, making sure to hold onto the wooden rail for support. She shuts the door and plasters a smile across her face, stepping forward to greet him once he reaches the floor, though he speaks before she can.

"Hey, hummingbird!" he says, glancing at the clock hung on the wall beside the door to check the time before meeting her gaze. "What are you doin' up? It's only seven-forty-eight." Her smile turns slightly timid and she holds back a yawn, instead opting to keep her response simple so she doesn't make him worried and shrug her shoulders.

"Uh, well... I just, thought I'd get up early. Make breakfast..." Then her eyes widen and she signals toward the dining table on the opposite side of the living room. "Oh yeah, I made breakfast! Is Nana gonna be up soon, too?" He shakes his head in the negative, giving Y\n a friendly pat on her shoulder and walking toward the table.

"Nah. She didn't sleep very well last night, she probably won't be up for a couple of hours yet." Y\n glances at the plate of food laying on the island in the center of the kitchen, feeling a pang of pity erupt throughout her chest. She grabs it and places a sheet of plastic wrap over it diligently and puts it on a shelf in the fridge, hoping that Nana will feel like eating when she does finally get up.

She fills two glasses with milk and brings them back into the dining room, giving one to Phil and the other she keeps, taking a seat in one of the four identical chairs placed around the table. "How come? Was she having bad dreams?" Part of her wonders whether or not her grandma is suffering the same symptoms as herself, though she seriously doubts it. But it never hurts to ask, she supposes.

"Heh, no." He takes a bite of eggs, taking his time to finish his reply, and she takes his silence as an opportunity to begin eating, as it seems like she won't have to be in any hurry to say anything for a few moments. She has to admit, she didn't do a bad job with making the food. The eggs could use a bit more salt, but other than that, she's quite proud of how it all turned out, especially since she hasn't made a proper meal in several months. "Just aching joints, mostly. That and stress."

She lifts her eyes curiously at this, and he continues looking down at his plate, taking steady bites and not seeming to acknowledge her questioning gaze, nor what he had said. After around thirty seconds of silence, she breaks it, wanting to know what would possibly be stressing her grandmother out so much that it interferes with her sleep. "What do you mean stress? Is there something wrong?"

Only now does he meet her eyes, his face morphing into one of realization, and he furrows his eyebrows. "Well, yeah..." His voice wavers ever-so-slightly, and it's so precise that even Y\n almost doesn't notice it. "I mean, w-with your parents, and everything."

"Why would my parents stress you guys out?" She can tell that at least part of his statement isn't 100% true, though she doesn't want to pressure him and instead be easy with it. After all, if he wants to tell her, he'll tell her. "They're my problem, not yours."

"Darlin', if your parents aren't treating you right, that makes them our problem, too. Especially your dad." Perhaps she just isn't used to people willingly getting involved in her personal life, but those two sentences sound so strange to her. They also sound touching, so much so it makes her heartbeat speed up. "We're not going to stand aside and let you be neglected and mistreated."

She swallows, trying to keep the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes at bay, and takes a shaky breath. "Well... thanks, Pops..." Her tone is soft and genuine, probably the most genuine it's been in quite a while, and she sends him a grateful smile. He briefly returns it, turning his attention back to his food and continuing to eat.

A couple of minutes pass, and silence is all that's heard as the two enjoy the meal, Y\n's mind swarming with thoughts. How could she have forgotten how pure her grandparents are? How has she gone nearly half of her life without their wholesome influence? How could her father just get rid of almost all connections with them and act like they don't even exist? It's a totally shameful thing to do, and that fact is only just now making itself apparent to her. How could he? After they raised him? After they gave him and Aunt Darcy all of their love? How could he just stop talking to them like that?

It's bad enough that he refuses to visit with them, but then he goes and forces her to do the same thing? How could her father be so utterly selfish that he abandons what should be two of the most important people in his life? It doesn't make any sense to her. Then again, her father hasn't really made much sense since all of this pointless drama started, so she guesses it won't get much more sensible from here on out.

At least her aunt still treats them like her parents. Or... she did the last time Y\n was here. It's unknown what she does, now, which makes the dream she had flash into her mind. Just what happened between her aunt and her grandparents? Taking a composing breath through her nose and biting the inside of her cheek somewhat nervously, she speaks, again. "Pops... can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Y\n. Ya don't have to be shy around me." She averts her gaze to a wall, gathering her thoughts and attempting to form a coherent sentence.

"Well... you said, yesterday when I asked about Aunt Darcy, that you'd tell me later." She tries to keep her voice raised enough so he can hear her well, as his ears aren't 'what they used to be', as he's told her. "And... well, it's later, so..."

She sees him stiffen and stare down as if trying to sort through his thoughts, and she waits patiently, if not anxiously, for his response. It's clearly a serious matter that he feels hesitant to discuss, but surely it can't be anything like what her dreams suggested, right? No, absolutely not. She would've been informed a long time ago if something like that had happened. They probably just lost touch. Maybe they moved far away from here and they feel sad talking about it.

"Y\n..." He catches her full attention when he starts, and he almost seems to crumble under her apprehensive gaze. "I think you should wait and talk about this with your grandmother. I'm afraid I'm not the best, uh..." He rubs the stubble on his chin and releases a humorless laugh. "I don't explain things very well."

"Please?" She really doesn't want to resort to begging, but she has to know. If her mind is going to be put to ease, it needs to know that her dream is nothing more than that; a dream. What she saw isn't real, and it will never be. So she can relax and enjoy the rest of her vacation with her grandparents. He opens his mouth like he's about to further argue his point, but she beats him to it. "I don't care if you're not good at explaining things. Just tell me? Please?"

He stares across the table at her for a good minute before finally letting out a defeated sigh and sliding his now-empty plate to the side in order to give him room to rest his arms comfortably across the wooden surface in front of him, muttering something about how 'she'd have to know eventually'.

"Look, Y\n..." He looks like he's currently straining himself for the correct words to say, and she doesn't take her eyes off of him. "...around a year and a half, two years ago..." He meets her e\c orbs, his own holding great pain and hesitation. She subconsciously squeezes the fork within her hand, her lips parting slightly in anticipation. What happened? Did they get into a fight? Did Aunt Darcy and Uncle Marvin get divorced? "...Wyatt disappeared. And... and Darcy and Marvin were murdered."

Her breath hitches as her mind tries to comprehend this newly-delivered information. No, no... that couldn't have happened. All of it was a dream, nothing more. Her mind didn't predict anything. It couldn't have. No, Pops has to be joking... but what if he isn't? She leans forward in shock, eyebrows raised and heart skipping a beat as she forces one single word out of her mouth. "Wh-what...?" It comes out as a whisper, and he runs his fingers through his white, thin hair.

"I-I really shouldn't be telling you this."

"How...?" She fights the tears in her eyes and gulps, nervous to hear his answer. He only shakes his head.

"That's too descriptive, I don't think you need to—"

"Were they stabbed? S-strangled? Shot?" She isn't sure why, but she wants to know. Despite how painful it will be. She tilts her head in distress and considers the way he stares at her, seeming to contemplate what she said. Her eyes are pleading, desperate, and her bottom lip quivers vaguely.

"They... they were stabbed. Probably by the javelin that Marvin kept in the living room, because it was missing, a-and the wounds were... messy, they said." She drops her fork and shoves her plate aside, resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands as she comprehends all of this. How could this have happened? These are things that are only supposed to take place in movies, on crime shows, not in real life. It isn't supposed to happen to her family.

"And... and Wyatt?" Her voice is muffled and quiet as her stomach quickly becomes queasy.

"Nobody knows. He just... vanished." Her heart gets caught in her throat and she releases a small sound similar to a whimper. "There are theories that he... that he killed them and then took off to get away from the law." She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping strands of her hair.

"H-he wouldn't. He loves them..."

"I know. I think that's an absurd theory, myself." He rests a consoling hand on her arm in an effort to bring her comfort. She barely even registers the touch and focuses on the thoughts running rampant through her mind. How could her aunt and uncle be dead? How could her cousin be missing? How could anybody think he had anything to do with it? "I knew this would be a lot to handle, I'm sorry, darlin'."

"Wh-why didn't I know about this?" She lifts her head just enough to meet his eyes, her voice unsteady. "If it happened that long ago, why was I kept in the dark?"

"Trust me, we tried to tell you. We tried to tell your dad, your mom, but neither of them listened to us. They ignored our calls, wouldn't let us get on the phone with you. You deserved to know, and I'm sorry it's taken us this long to tell you." She can't stop her hands from shaking as a tear rolls down her cheek.

"Y-you mean Dad... Dad didn't care that his sister was dead?" Bitterness and a form of disbelief lace her voice as her eyes seem to bare holes into the table in front of her.

"He didn't want to believe it. I think he convinced himself it didn't actually happen and refused to acknowledge any of it." A rich, overwhelming fear washes over her and nearly makes her throw up as she bites her lip, so hard it almost draws blood, though she doesn't pay attention to the pain. Her eyes narrow in on Phil and she removes her hands from her face to get a better view of him, and so her voice wouldn't be indistinct.

"You... you're not joking, are you?" He shakes his head slowly, and goosebumps form along the skin of her arms.

"No... I'm so sorry. I know you were close with them..."

"I, uh..." She stands to her feet, grabbing her dishes and not having the stomach to finish her breakfast. "I'm gonna... go. Out, f-for a walk." As she walks around the table and past Phil, he lightly takes hold of her wrist to get her attention, and she glances down at him with glossy eyes.

"...I didn't want to scare you, or make you feel so bad, Y\n. I just... didn't want to lie to you."

"N-no, it's okay," she says, though her tone implies otherwise. "Thank you. I-I wanted to know." Before he can say anything else, she easily pulls away from his grasp and heads toward the kitchen, dumping her scraps in the large trash can before washing the dishes, putting them in the drainer to dry, pocketing her phone, and going toward the front door once again. "Um, if Nana wakes up  before I'm back, please tell her that there's food in the fridge."

Not waiting for a reply although not exactly expecting one, she exits the home, shutting the screen behind her and speed-walking toward the white gate. She finds herself in a hurry to get some privacy, be in solitude so she can express herself more clearly without fear of being judged. Though tears now stream freely down her cheeks, she tries to hold them back until she's concealed in the thick greenery of the forest, and she takes the very same path she did yesterday, and many times before, this time not paying attention to what she steps on and what she doesn't.

She stumbles several times over the thorny plants and uncut weeds until eventually making it to a tamer area of the trail, wrapping her arms around herself and letting out squeaky sobs. Is it just a terrible coincidence? Her dreaming about Wyatt dying then finding out his parents was murdered and he's missing? Or is there something deeper going on? She can't seem to think past the fact that her aunt and uncle are dead, or the fact that her cousin just seemingly vanished without a trace and has yet to return.

Since she's arrived here, her dreams have had a menacing, eerie atmosphere to them, though she assumed it was just the stress of everything manifesting itself into the form of something specifically created to put fear in her heart. She didn't think they meant anything more, not so much so that they invade her mind during the day, every day, without end. But... was she wrong?

How can they be gone? Just like that? Her eyebrows furrow and her eyes narrow in both incredulity and anger. And how could Dad know but not tell me? I'm his freaking daughter, for goodness sake! And they're his sister, his brother-in-law! His nephew! How could- how could he just act like nothing happened!?

A pathetic whimper escapes through her lips and she shakes her head, quickening her pace and keeping an eye out for a connecting path in particular that she and Wyatt used to take to get to the river. They used to take that path, together, when they were kids. That would never happen again. Because he's missing and probably won't ever come back.

Oh God... this means Nana and Pops are the only ones left... She sniffles and sucks in shallow, sharp breaths as she comes to this realization, slowing down absentmindedly. She was my only aunt, he was my only cousin, Marvin was my only uncle... they were my closest relatives that actually gives a crap about me.

Seeing as how her mother's parents disowned her when she was only seventeen because she got impregnated by a man who was, at the time, twenty-two, she never got to meet them and didn't hear too much about them, outside of insults and general hate. Her mom's sister, Giana, didn't visit a lot, and when she did she was always snobby and selfish, and it was apparent to Y\n that she didn't really care for her niece very much. She was clearly only after the money that Y\n's father and mom had at their grasp.

In other words, her mother's family left much to be desired. At least her dad's side of the family loves her, which is something she's beyond grateful for. But now part of them is gone. Only her grandparents remain. Does her father even care about that? Has he ever stopped and thought, 'ya know, maybe I should stop acting like a scumbag and spend time with my parents before it's too late', or 'I should be there for my sister's funeral'? Doubtful. If he did it was a mere idea that he quickly brushed aside and labeled as 'ridiculous'.

Y\n wouldn't be so angry with him had he at least let her still see them, at least a couple of times a year, maybe on holidays, but that simply isn't the case. If she had been allowed back here years ago, she would've been able to spend quality time with all of them before that horrible event occurred. But now it's too late. All thanks to her selfish jerk for a father.

She releases an infuriated scream and turns to kick the nearest tree, causing a bird that was sitting on a branch previously to fly away in alarm, likely thinking that it's under attack and wanting to get away before it gets hurt. She could care less about the winged creature at the moment though and continues to kick the tree a total of three more times before collapsing on her knees in a sobbing, shaking, and heartbroken heap.

Even if she tried, she'd be unable to keep her negative emotions to herself. But she doesn't want to. She wants to cry, cry until she can't anymore. Nobody's around, she's completely alone. What harm will it bring? Salty tears slide down her face and hit the ground with a tiny splash each time, and she leans forward and rests her forearms on the grass beneath her for some sort of stability.

She can hardly believe this information, no matter how many times it runs through her head. It seems surreal, almost like a dream. But this isn't a dream. Right? It would be amazing to wake up and find out that Marvin and Darcy were alive and well, and Wyatt was still here, living a happy life. But that scenario is very unlikely to be true. Still, she hopes. Maybe it's all in her mind. She pinches the skin on her arm and instantly winces, waiting to wake up in her bed. But she doesn't.

She crashes further to the ground and her pained wails become louder. Why them? Why some of the sweetest people in her life? Why did they have to go? Why couldn't it have been a bad person? Someone whose only goal in life is to make others suffer? Why couldn't it have been her own parents instead of Wyatt's? As terrible of a thought it sounds, she can't seem to make herself think any differently.

Who would do such a thing? Who would murder somebody with a family that they love, that loves them in return? Have they no empathy? No compassion, no remorse, whatsoever? Clearly not. A sudden snap of a twig draws her attention and she cranes her neck to the side, gazing through swollen, glassy eyes and trying to see past the trees and find whatever is the source of the noise. Seeing nothing and brushing it off as an animal or her imagination, she turns back toward the ground, attempting to gather her bearings to continue her walk in peace.

After a couple of minutes, she catches her breath, calms herself down enough to be somewhat aware of her surroundings, and leisurely rises to her feet, wiping the remainder of the tears away with the back of her arm and beginning to walk forward, once again.

She spots a familiar trail, shrouded by even more briars and thick plants, that she remembers to lead to her and Wyatt's old 'Hangout', as they used to call it, where the water is just clear enough to be considered 'clean', where a small mountain covered with boulders rests, where a large oak was planted beside the river many years ago and made the perfect place to sit and play cards, share stories, or just stare down below into the beautiful scenery and beyond.

That was the way it used to be, almost eight years ago, and that's the way she hopes it is, now. Maybe it will be just like a painting frozen in time. Maybe it hasn't changed at all. Guess I'll find out...

She struggles to swat away the plants and duck under branches, looking extra closely for low-hanging spiderwebs that happen to be in the direct path of her head. Her heart aches, there isn't a doubt about that. But below that aching, below the pain, there's anger. Pure vexation, all directed at her father. Yes, she knows he wasn't the one who killed them, but he's the one that kept her from seeing them. Perhaps she should focus all her negative energy around the actual person who caused their deaths. But she can't, not right now. The real villain, in her eyes, is the man whose self-centered personality, along with his total disregard for other peoples' feelings, made the last of her childhood and beginning and middle of her teenage years miserable.

Her mother isn't innocent in this either, with her cheating on her own husband, disacknowledging that her daughter even existed most days anymore, and overall disloyalty toward her family makes Y\n angry. Makes her strongly dislike her. But Y\n's mother had almost nothing to do with these family issues, no. Her father caused that all on his own. She's sure the only reason her mom didn't communicate with them is because he told her not to.

Y\n recalls turning to her mother for answers when she couldn't get anything out of her dad, and she only responded with, "You'll have to ask your father", or "I'm not the one you should be questioning about that". Every single time. So she stopped, after all, what's the point in asking about something if all you get is vague, useless answers in response?

She looks back when she gets the sudden feeling that she's being followed, and flinches in surprise when she meets the chestnut eyes of a fairly normal-looking boy, with messy brown hair and an innocent-looking face. He seems to be around her age, perhaps a couple of years older, and he puts his hands up in defense as if taken off-guard by her startled reaction.

He's taller than average, and she takes a cautious step back when he begins speaking. "O-oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." His voice is deep and has a mature sound to it, and she furrows her eyebrows in slight suspicion. Who is this guy? How long has he been there?

"Were you... following me?" Her tone holds wariness, and he sends her a friendly smile to show her he means well, though she gets the feeling that maybe it isn't as sincere as he makes it seem.

"Uh... yes? But—you don't have to get creeped out or anything, I'm not a stalker." She raises an eyebrow and takes another step back, trying to make as much distance between herself and this random person as she can in case he were to try and attack. "I just moved here and was exploring around, then I saw you walking around and figured I'd say 'hi'."

She considers his posture, his appearance, his upright demeanor, before meeting his eyes again, her muscles relaxing and deciding he seems genuine enough, though she won't let her guard down completely. She isn't extremely concerned about the way she must look to him, and he isn't commenting on it, much to her relief. "...Really? Where do you live?"

"About a mile north from here." He nods his head in that direction and sticks his hands into his hoodie pocket habitually. "My mom thought I should get out and get familiar with the area."

"And how do you like it?" She tilts her head, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. He shrugs.

"It's nice. Pretty quiet most of the time, but it's a good area to unwind, I guess." She nods in response, and he takes a step closer, something that doesn't go unnoticed by her. "What about you?"

"I'm here visiting some family while my parents are away on business." She said the term 'family' instead of 'grandparents' without even thinking about it, something that makes her chest tighten when she realizes that very thing.

"Cool. You been here before?"

"Not since I was a kid."

"How come?" She narrows her eyes up at him and her voice hardens slightly, not willing to give a stranger a lot of personal information about herself. Maybe it's the fact that she hasn't interacted much with anyone outside what was necessary for quite a while and it's making her feel overly-cautious about meeting new people, but something about this person seems strange. She can't quite put her finger on it, all she knows is that she feels weird around him.

"Family issues." There's a certain tension that begins to form between the two of them, and she shuffles on her feet uncomfortably, not sure if this guy wants to maintain some type of conversation with her. She was never the best at reading people and knowing what they were thinking. A few moments pass.

"So... where are you going?"

"Um..." She glances behind her, to the unconquered trail that she was taking before he appeared, and jabs her thumb backward to show him. "There's a river and a tree and stuff down there, I was just seeing if it's the same as I remember it being."

"I don't mean to be the annoying know-it-all, but..." He uses his eyes to signal around them in an obvious manner. "There are trees everywhere." A huff exits her nose and she rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, well. There is one tree there that's more special than the ones here." He chuckles lightly and nods.

"Fair enough. Mind if I tag along?" She presses her lips together after hearing this seemingly harmless request, thinking it over. "Hey, I know that face. Don't worry, I'm not gonna slaughter you or anything when we get there."

"Heh, no, I wasn't—" She runs her hand through her hair and grapples for words that won't make her seem paranoid or stupid.

"You were." He grins mischievously, walking closer to her, and she steps to the edge of the path in response, still not fully trusting of this evidently nice individual. "It's okay. Look, I'll even go first so I can't stab you in the back." She bites the inside of her cheek and watches as he passes her effortlessly and stops a few inches ahead. "You were following the trail, right?" She nods. "Then c'mon and we'll 'get familiar with the area' together."

"I'm already familiar with the area," she says, hesitantly following behind him when he starts walking.

"Okay, okay, then let me get familiar with the area and you will just... stay familiar with the area, I guess." She can't stop the amused smirk that etches itself across her face as she falls in place next to him, though keeps a fair distance between the two of them. As 'fair' as the distance can be, at least. She's content that she's found something that will hopefully distract her for a little while just so she won't have to think about the current horrors of her life. "So what's your name?"

"Y\n." She briefly meets his eyes and repeats his own inquiry. "What about you?"

"Nice to meet you, Y\n. I'm Jack."

[smartguyreviewed]

2x4 - Dateline

Original air date: Oct 1, 1997

Anyone who was holding their breath for me to get back to this, thank you. Been going through a lot like most people right now but I had to remember this blog is a good distraction because I get to write about one of my favorite shows growing up. Anyways, enjoy. :) 

Let’s talk about cock-blocking or to be more gender inclusive...actually, I can’t think of a term similar that utilizes both a male and female part. Anyhoo, let’s talk about it.

I’ve done it (unintentionally). You’ve done it. We’ve all had it done to us as well. Like the night you finally got a chance to be alone with your dipshit crush and your annoying friend tried to insert herself until she finally realized what was going on and left you two alone so you could have your first kiss ever at age 19.

TJ is an extreme cock blocker. He will break your shit up and then pout because he’s still just a kid. Normally, TJ only wants to punish Marcus by enacting this cruel tactic but in this episode, he shifts gears to the person who is both a mother and father to him: Daddy Flody.

We begin this episode at a supermarket. Tj is checking out cereals and Floyd is checking out dat ass.

TJ catches Floyd staring and in his precocious little way, starts asking him questions about women. It kind of reminds me of Frank from Milk Money. which is a horrible movie that I adore and you should watch it because despite a little kid befriending a prostitute, it’s still a decent 90s coming-of-age tale. And Alex DeLarge is in it.

After TJ makes his dad sweat further by asking what body type gets his penis erect, TJ comes to the conclusion that Floyd is lonely and could probably benefit from some female companionship.

Cut to TJ on an unrealistically chatty PC barking at TJ to fill in the boxes for Floyd. I don’t know about you, but if my computer kept talking to me, I’d throw it out of the fucking window. I am so glad websites that talk at you are obsolete. Apparently, this computer is also sentient because TJ pauses for just a moment too long when Marcus comes in and this impatient computer bitch asks for the rest of the info in a more demanding tone.

But because TJ was distracted, he inputs his own height instead of his dad’s and the computer announces that she’s transferring him to their little people’s section. Hey, they gotta find love too!

Marcus is skeptical of why TJ is trying to set Floyd up. Just then, Yvette walks in and asks who is using her eyeliner to write down phone messages, which I totally expect a straight man to do. After fessing up, Marcus asks Yvette to dissuade TJ from setting up his dad. Yvette then uses her soon-to-be psychology degree on Marcus and reasons that he might be a little salty because he doesn’t want another woman to replace his mom. But no, Marcus is a teenage boy and completely lacking depth until certain episodes call for it. Instead, he says he just wants the car on weekend evenings so he can try to bang his latest girl of the week. Of course, he could just be deflecting to avoid a heavy conversation but I’m gonna go with the former because Marcus is the horniest boy on the show.

Yvette decides to help TJ since Floyd has few dating options. Her plan is to beef up his personal ad by making him younger and a fan of soul food and Maya Angelou. Marcus is still not with the shits and says that nobody wants to date an “old guy with three kids.” Completely forgetting about the fact that his dad is an attractive man, this happens instead:

TJ and the gang are now making final cuts on the 130 prospects Floyd had. I mean, that’s great and all but I’m sure at least half of those women were catfishes. Then again, in the 90s, maybe there was more legitimacy since there wasn’t enough technology to hide behind? I dunno. But Floyd definitely has some options.

While deliberating who will receive the clock from Floyd, Marcus makes what would be considered a transphobic comment questing if some of them really are women and how he doesn’t want Floyd to end up like Eddie Murphy. Mo, on the other hand is questing if this is even legal. Mo is a teenage boy and is probably likening it to what Tinder now is: a place to meet horny individuals.

Yvette thinks the ladies are good picks but then begins nitpicking their flaws, among one of them being that one of the ladies has breast implants. Because women who get surgeries to help boost their self esteem apparently don’t deserve love? Yvette is such a hypocrite as we’ll see in the future. Mo then begins taking the rejected pics because he loves older women, especially ones with perceived low self esteem. Just then, Floyd comes in the room and the gang has to cover up their dirty work. Floyd makes a bad joke and then dips out.

They eventually settle on a light-skinned natural woman named Jamie. They agree to meet at the grocery store, sot hat’s where we end up. Marcus is acting like he’s never seen pretty girls outside of school and leaves to spit game at women who just wanna be left alone so they can buy their frozen pizza and wine in peace.

Jamie sees who she thinks is her suitor and immediately is pissed because she, you know, thought she’d be meeting Floyd and not a little boy. Yvette comes over to smooth things over and convinces Jamie to meet Floyd. Well, TJ’s cute face convinced her after she was understandably freaked out. They go to meet Floyd. 

Jamie shows up and explains what happened and that she was pre-screened to make sure she wasn’t a guy. Floyd actually even gives her an up and down look before she says she passed! Pretty sure this also wouldn’t go over well today. Jamie and Floyd, however, hit it off and leave to go on a date. When they get back, Yvette and TJ are spying on the new couple to see how it went. Floyd was actually bigging up TJ and talking about how smart he is to Jamie when they got in. Aww. Floyd is proud of his son for hooking him up. Yvette is noticeably annoyed at how he gets all of the credit, but I mean, it was his idea. Yvette just helped him out. 

Upon completion of this totally selfless act to get his father some love, TJ is happy at first. Yay TJ! You’re on the right track to becoming a thoughtful human be--

Sike! TJ immediately regrets this decision once he realizes that his father having a personal life means that he won’t see him as much. TJ has a basketball game coming up that Floyd won’t be able to attend now. Yvette offers to take him but it’s not the same because Yvette is a girl and girls aren’t fun. And just like that, TJ the petty, cock-blocking asshole comes back.

The next day, TJ and Floyd are playing basketball when Jamie comes home. Floyd invites her to play but TJ is all like “bitch, wait your turn” and then Floyd puts her on TJ’s team. She then bribes TJ with the food she’s about to cook for them. He agrees but then Jamie and Floyd start flirting because duh. TJ leaves in a jealous fit, upset that this woman he hooked his father up with has the gall to want to spend time with him. He simulates what he wants to do to her body on a bag of Funions.

I have to say though, how long was the frame of this episode? Days? Weeks? Jamie has essentially become their stepmom. She’s even giving Marcus advice on how to treat a girl like a human being instead of a meat popsicle with titties. Yvette and Marcus then leave, allowing Jamie and Floyd their Blockbuster and Chill time with The Preacher’s Wife.

But TJ is a boner detector because as soon as Jamie and Floyd are about to mash faces, TJ whimpers for his pa because he doesn’t feel good. We think Floyd banished him to his room but then TJ comes over and pushes the two would-be lovers apart so he can ruin their night. Jamie eventually decides to leave, even though it’s clear she was holding out in case she could get a piece of Floyd but TJ completely squashed that possibility. Floyd actually whines when Jamie says she’s leaving. Aww. Floyd is lonely. Does TJ care? Of course not. 

TJ sounds perfectly fine when he says he’s sorry he ruined the night. Father and son decide to just watch the movie together instead.

The next day at school, Marcus is spitting his game at the girl he went on a date with. Turns out, treating women like actual people has been working well for him! He’s even going on a second date. Yvette comes by to let TJ know that she’s picking him up again. TJ is, of course, pissed because Jamie had come over to the house the night before, albeit dick-less. Yvette has to explain to TJ that when you date someone, the goal is to see them frequently and that he’s the reason their last date sucked. She then shatters Marcus’s dreams by letting him know that Floyd is taking his car on his date. Guess Marcus is gonna have to make out on the bus.

TJ’s lips are all puckered because he’s losing his father to another woman. He’s so distressed that he actually picks a fight with a senior. Mo steps in and literally drags TJ home. No, seriously. He carried TJ like a bag of groceries all the way to the Henderson house during school. Then he transformed into a therapist to get to the root of TJ’s outburst. This is during school hours. Mo skipped school to bring TJ home and give Floyd advice. Mo is amazing.

TJ is playing basketball with himself when Floyd comes in and then he spills that he’s sick of Jamie. Floyd reminds TJ that he’s the one who set them up and I guess TJ didn’t know things would actually change. Now would have been a good time to mention if he feels some way about another woman besides Yvette playing a maternal figure in the wake of his mother’s never explained death. But Floyd does a good job as usual and says this is temporary because when TJ is a teenager, he won’t want anything to do with Floyd. TJ finally stops being a prick and Floyd offers to be careful about how he schedules his time and then continues the basketball game he let Jamie interrupt previously. Aww Floyd. Too bad TJ is probably going to hold onto this for a while because he was giving his dad a lot of shit in the end credits. This isn’t even the last time he does this to Floyd and we never see Jamie again, so I guess it’s safe to assume that TJ killed Jamie. 

Things I noticed:

- Can we just take a moment to appreciate how hot Floyd is? How could Marcus ever think his dad wouldn’t be able to attract women?

- This brilliant cover for the gang if Floyd came in during the date deliberation:

- Marcus doesn’t want Floyd to go out on dates because he wants the car to himself on the weekends. He says if Floyd starts going out, he’s making out in the back of the bus. Yvette then says, “No, thanks to Rosa Parks, you can make out anywhere on the bus.” Brilliant retort. I really hand it to the writers of this show.

[wolf-zer0]

everything not bolted down is fair game (too bad no one told you who else is playing)

Category: Gen Characters: Dream Relationships: None Summary: Dream's been running jobs since he was tall enough to reach locks and fast enough to scale a building sub-fifteen minutes. There's no one else who knows the game as well as him. (Technoblade might beg to differ, but no one asked for his opinion). He's slicker, he's smarter, he's just all around better than all these morons who somehow think they're in his league. When he decides to steal the Manberg Emerald from the Museum of Natural History, he thinks it'll finally show the world who the top dog really is.

(Turns out, there's already a pack of top dogs. And they're all too willing to knock him down several pegs.) AKA Dream's a cat burglar and an arrogant asshole who gets dunked on by a bunch of children AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29952117

“...We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming with a breaking news report. Police have announced their findings that Nightmare, one of INTERPOL’s most wanted, is most likely behind the recent robbery at the National Museum of Art...”

“...Nightmare’s true identity remains a mystery. Despite years of activity and dozens of burglaries attributed to him from across the world, no leads have been found. The only evidence authorities have is his signature smiley face symbol spray painted on the wall next to the space where the stolen painting, valued at around $155 million USD, had previously hung...”

“... Investigators believe that his next target is the Manberg Emerald. The massive gemstone, estimated to be worth nearly a quarter million dollars, is currently on display at the Museum of Natural History…”

“... In order to stave off the potential theft, museum officials have moved the Emerald to a secure containment facility within the building, far from public access…”

“...The police are asking the public to watch for any unusual persons near or around the Museum, and report any suspicious activity immediately…”

The night air is cool and crisp around him as he stands at the very edge of an office building’s roof. The city hums beneath him, thousands of feet down. Headlights glimmer against the black of the pavement as people go about their night, mindlessly chattering to one another. They continue their lives without a single glance up.

His silhouette blends seamlessly into the moonless sky. The wind is calm, ruffling the edge of his hoodie just slightly. The smog and bright lights of the big city hide all hints of him from view. It’s the perfect night for a felony. Cocksure grin painted behind the blank smile of a mask, he pulls down the edge of his hood, tilts forward over the edge, and drops.

The wind whistles past his ears as he falls, office windows flickering before his eyes on the way down. The dull roar of the city sharpens. He doesn’t flinch as the lights on the road grow brighter and brighter.

The line clipped to his harness pulls taut. There’s a sudden, sharp jerk as he reaches the end of the rope, and all movement stops. He hangs headfirst in the space between earth and sky, just above the roof of the Museum. With a deftness born only from years of practice, he releases the carabiner and drops safely down onto the roof. Footsteps near silent, he creeps closer to the grating. Strains his ears for any sign of trouble. Nothing. Not a soul notices anything amiss. Perfect.

There’s a reason Dream’s the best in the game. Not a single person could be considered a contender, let alone a real opponent. (Technoblade’s the closest thing, but the guy’s about as easy to rile up as a brick wall. With the social skills to match.) He pulls up the grate he’d found and loosened during his recon and slinks down into the vents.

He loves his crew, he really does. He and Sapnap have been running together since they were kids. They learned how to pick a mark together, how to stitch a wound together, how to run circles around the competition together. Dream honed his sticky fingers, Sapnap taped his fists. They clawed their way out of obscurity, covered in blood and sweat and tears. They took in the view from the top, and they laughed.

George was a recent addition, but not an unwelcome one. Sitting behind his many screens and fingers dancing over the keyboard, he worked his magic in ways neither of them could even imagine. He barely breaks a sweat busting through the most robust security programs. The three of them are a well oiled machine, breezing past crew after crew on the race to infamy.

Dream really loves his crew, they’re his family. But sometimes he thinks he loves running solo even more.

The rush of the chase, the thrill of the hunt, the danger that comes with dancing on the razor’s edge of success and failure where a single mistake can send him plummeting to the ground. It’s fucking addicting and Dream is hooked.

He doesn’t do it often, just often enough to satisfy the itch under his skin. Sometimes, he makes it interesting by letting his crew in on the hunt. George will try to sabotage the security systems, Sapnap will stalk the halls ready to strike. They’ll even recruit help from other crews to add the extra adrenaline he craves.

He’s running without help or hindrance tonight. His only help if things go south is the gear on his back and his ability to get the hell outta dodge. Of course, there’s no real chance things could ever go south.

As Dream soundlessly shimmies his way through the ventilation shafts, his mask’s heads-up display maps out the twists and turns leading towards the Museum’s storage area. It’s honestly kind of pathetic how easy it is to get to the vault. He thought a place with so many priceless artifacts would pose more of a challenge. He may need to find another mark that poses more of a challenge, but first he needs to get what he came for.

He finds the vent he needs quickly, and gently removes the covering. Dropping down from the ceiling, he checks the security camera feed in the corner of the HUD to make sure no one’s watching. All he sees is the lone security guard snoring in the breakroom, teetering dangerously in his chair with his head thrown back. It’s just too easy.

He picks his way through the restricted area of the archives, careful to stay out of camera sight lines. He doesn’t touch a single thing, doesn’t dare leave a tangible mark that he’s been here. Sapnap calls it paranoia, George calls it perfectionism. He calls it pragmatism. Makes the chase that much more enjoyable, watching the authorities scramble for even a fragment of evidence. It’s not fun anymore if he’s not in control.

The vault is massive, with thick steel walls and a shiny control panel. Dream snorts at the laughable protections. This is just so sad. The fact that they thought this thing could keep him out? Hysterical. He could crack it in his sleep. He has before. It’s fucking child’s play.

It barely takes him a minute to get inside. He grins. Add one massive emerald to his stash, thank you very much. He swings open the door with a flourish.

The vault is empty.

Empty, except for a single sheet of lined notebook paper.

The piercing shriek of the alarm drowns out his screech of outrage. In his camera feed, the security guard jerks to awareness, eyes wild and limbs flailing. A warning pops up on the HUD telling him the police are on the way, ETA 5 minutes or less. The paper flutters to the floor as he turns on his heel to make a very quick escape.

Rage bubbles in his chest as he leaps through a nearby window and into the starless night. Running through the alleys and leaping fences, he spits curses at whoever decided to mess with the king.

The sheet of paper lies hidden where it slid beneath a locked supply closet door. As the authorities search the building for any signs of the thief, they somehow overlook the sliver of pristine white under dusty boxes of records. Scribbled on the abandoned sheet is a single line of writing, scratched letters and dark ink mocking in their simplicity.

git gud loser >:3

Far from the museum sits a warehouse. It’s been vacant for years, slowly rotting away as the world continued on without it.

It’s not vacant anymore.

Light from nearby streetlamps streams through the dusty windows, casting watery shadows across a surprisingly comfortable living space. A large, dark wood table takes up most of the room, surrounded by five mismatched chairs with the contents of a first aid kit scattered across it. The kitchen is a mess, with dishes left in the sink, take-out boxes piled around the trash can, and notes like “Whoever ate the last of my yogurt, I’m coming for your eyes dipshit!” and “Please don’t forget to grab some milk at Sam’s, we’ve been eating dry cereal for almost a week :(” stuck to the fridge. The living room has a massive couch, blue fabric worn soft from use and stained in several places, set up in front of a huge television set. Some kind of animated movie is playing, all bright colors and high energy musical numbers.

Climbing gear hangs on the wall across from the kitchen, harnesses and ropes and winches carefully sorted and organized for ease of use. A wall of computer screens sits nearby, mounted over two desks covered in the remains of caffeinated beverages and scraps of circuitry. A closet is tucked into a corner, uniforms and wigs and all sorts of accessories spilling out onto the floor. A well loved punching bag swings slightly next to a dented lead pipe that leans against the wall, gloves and hand wraps nestled into nearby cubbies.

Rather than using the couch, the warehouse’s current occupants are tangled together on the floor in front of the TV. It’s hard to tell where one starts and another ends in the pile of limbs and snarky comments. A lanky blond with fading bruises on his cheekbone and a bandage across his nose is squashed in the center, grousing about some stupid line and earning a pinch from a shorter brunet curled up against his side. Another blond in a deep purple hoodie snorts as he types away on his phone, head pillowed on the brunet’s thigh. A girl wearing a green t-shirt snipes back as she runs her fingers through the two-toned hair of the boy stretched out behind them.

A half-open backpack lies across the kitchen counter, carelessly tossed aside in the mind-numbing high that follows a successful job. The brilliant green facets of a fist-sized emerald nestled inside the fabric glitter in the light of the TV screen as the five jeer and taunt the characters.

Dream may think he runs the game, but he’s not even a player. A single King can only win so often before they’re forced to fold.

And nothing beats a Royal Flush.

[originalhybridloverfics]

The Start of Our Forever

Summary: The weeks after Oliver's death left Felicity feeling hollow and empty. Then one day after a trip to the grocery store that had her sobbing, she returns home to find someone waiting in her house. Suddenly her world made sense again, like and color returning, leaving nothing but unconditional love in its wake.

A/N: I love that Oliver and Felicity get to spend the rest of forever together but I hate that they didn't get raise their children together and they had to suffer through a 20-year separation. So I wrote this. I hope you like it.

Warning for smut in this chapter. I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are my own.

The weeks after Oliver's death were the hardest of Felicity's life and the most painful.

Waking up to the sound of her child's cries, holding Mia in her arms and looking into her green eyes, knowing it was something Oliver would never get to do again. It broke her every time.

`The world was far too cruel to take Oliver from them. She wasn't sure she wanted to live in a world that was so evil. To raise her daughter in a world where she would never grow up with her dad.

Despite her grief, Felicity went to the courts and petitioned for custody of William. If she was going to do this alone, she wasn't going to have her children grow up separately.

William's grandparents hadn't wanted to let him go. Still, William was insistent that he wanted to go live with his step-mother.

Felicity spent the last couple of weeks focusing on her children. Taking care of William and Mia was the only reason she was able to drag herself out of bed. When all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball of pain and grief and disappear.

She pushed the pain and the grief as deep down as was possible, using work and the kids as a never-ending distraction. It worked until it no longer did.

The smallest of things would have her breaking. A commercial about souffles. Seeing a family at the park, a vacation brochure. The slightest reminder of Oliver set her off.

But none of those made her break like she did today.

Such an innocent question had her sobbing in public, her daughter clutched in her arms.

                                                    ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Felicity pushed the grocery cart through the local store, moving from isle to isle, grabbing anything she might need. She didn't plan on coming back out unless she absolutely had to.

If she could seclude herself to the cabin, she would. Shutting out the rest of the world sounded good to her. After all, it had cost her the love of her life. Her soulmate.

She moved to the cereal aisle, searching for William's favorite. She spotted the box of cocoa puffs on the top shelf.

She stretched on her toes, trying to reach the box, but she couldn't. The tip of her fingers didn't so much as graze it.

"Here, let me help with that." A male voice offered.

Felicity stepped back as a man reached for the box. "Thank you. I hate it when they put items on the top shelf. Not everyone is 6'7."

"Actually, I'm 6'4." The man smiled, holding the box out.

"Compared to me, that's very tall. If you haven't noticed, I'm rather short." Felicity took the box and placed it in the cart and when she did. Mia, who rested in the car seat, reached for her, and Felicity picked her up.

"Davis, Carter." The man grinned. "I would extend my hand, but your hands are full with a ball of adorableness."

Felicity wanted to laugh, she tried to smile because the man seemed kind but she couldn't and it wasn't because he was unattractive. He was quite good looking. It was because he wasn't Oliver, and nothing could make her smile or laugh anymore.

Felicity honestly believed that part of her, the part that was capable of being happy, died with her husband.

"Felicity Smoak and this little ball of sunshine is my daughter, Mia."

"Well, Felicity Smoak, I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner with me?"

Felicity's eyes widened, her heart thudded in her chest as his words triggered a memory.

A memory, so vivid it was like she was reliving it again.

"Felicity, would you like to go to dinner with me?"

Felicity turned back to him. "I'm being serious here, Oliver."

"So am I."

Felicity paused and took a step forward. "I don't want to read too much into this, but are you asking me out on a date? Like an actual date? A date, date?"

Her heart pounded in her chest. Was this really happening?

Oliver - with the life I lead, I can't be with anyone I could really care about - Queen was asking her out?

"Yeah, I mean, the implication, meaning dinner-"

"Usually, I'm the one talking in sentence fragments."

"Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

There was this look in his eyes, one filled with hope. It was almost like he had stars in his eyes.

"Yes," Felicity answered, heart pounding, stomach fluttering with nerves.

Oliver's smile was so bright, she felt it could rival the sun, and just like that, her nerves were gone, and she was smiling back at him.

Tears filled her eyes as the vivid image of Oliver standing before her radiating happiness faded away. Left in his place was a man she just met. A man asking her out. A man who couldn't possibly know how much her husband meant to her. A man who wasn't aware she didn't have a heart to give. She had already given it freely to the love of her life, who was lost to her for the rest of her life.

Her shoulders began to shake, a pain in her chest so sharp that she sunk to her knees in the middle of the market, clutching her daughter, one of the only two pieces she had left of her husband, to her chest.

Her breaths came rapidly as she let out a broken sob, tears streaming down her face.

It was like reliving the moment she found out Oliver had died all over again.

And frak, each time was more painful than the last.

Felicity was sure that Davis probably thought she was crazy. Hell, probably everyone in the store thought she was crazy. What, else were they to think about a woman breaking down hysterically in the middle of a supermarket, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

All she could feel was the weight of her little girl in her arms, the ache in her chest, and the feeling of barely being able to catch her breath.

Felicity finally composed herself when Mia started to cry. She left behind her grocery cart and walked out of the store to her car.

She got Mia to quiet down and secured her car seat, and got into the driver seat. She removed her glasses, the lens wet with her tears and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

She took a cloth to her glasses, letting out a shuddering breath, blinking back more tears. Trying her hardest to push the pain down, burying it as deep as she could. Hoping, praying it would take at least a day before it clawed its way to the surface, threatening to consume her once again.

When she was calm enough, she put the keys in the ignition and started the car. She put on her seatbelt and pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road. She stopped at the first diner she drove past and then continued on home with a heavy heart.

As she turned down the road that led to the cabin, Felicity chanced a look back at Mia. She was quiet. Felicity was sure she was asleep.

She pulled her car to a stop in front of the cabin and climbed out. She walked around to retrieve Mia from the backseat and the food she got for dinner and headed inside.

She sat both the food on the kitchen counter and Mia's car seat. Mia was fast asleep.

She unfastened Mia and picked her up, carrying her to her room. Felicity laid her down in her crib, and she stood there, her hand on Mia's tiny chest.

A fresh wave of grief hitting her. Oliver should be here, standing next to her.

Felicity's head whipped around when she heard a creak on the floorboards.

Who the hell was in her home?

She stepped slowly out of her daughter's room, pausing in the hallway. She looked down the hall when she didn't see anyone, she continued to the kitchen and pulled out one of the kitchen knives.

She heard another creak in the floorboards. A lot closer. Right behind her.

How did they move through her home so fast?

She whirled around, knife at the ready, prepared to strike.

Her heart stopped, breath catching in her throat, eyes wide in disbelief.

God, he was so handsome. His large frame standing in front of her. His jaw covered in stubble, his eyes more intense then she could remember seeing them.

The knife she had clattered to the floor, and she stumbled back until her back hit the counter.

"Felicity."

A sob tore through her, hearing his voice, in that low pitch tone he reserved for only her. Voice so soft filled with so much reverence when he said her name.

Like her name had a meaning all it's own. Like her name was more than a name.

"You're not real." Felicity's voice was broken, filled with grief.

She had so many dreams where Oliver came back to her, but every single time she touched him, he would fade away, and she wakes up to a world where her husband was never coming home.

A world where they will never raise their children together. Never grow old together. Never share one more kiss, one last touch, one final moment.

Everything was just gone, leaving only an unbearable emptiness in her life. An ache she could not heal.

"I am real." Oliver stepped forward, bringing him within reach of her. "I can't imagine the pain you have suffered. What you have been through. I wish you didn't have to go through any of what you have."

Felicity shook her head against his words. "You're not here. You aren't ever coming back."

"Felicity, I did." Oliver stepped forward, hating the way she curled into herself as he drew closer. "There is nothing in this world that would ever keep me from coming home to you. Not even the fate of the multiverse. You and our family mean more to me than anything in the universe."

Felicity pressed her hand to her chest, tears filling her eyes. Why was her mind playing tricks? Hadn't she suffered enough?

How much more pain did she have to go through?

"Felicity, please, believe me, I'm real. I am not a figment of your imagination." Oliver reached out, taking her hand in his.

Felicity gasped at the touch of his hand. In her dreams, she couldn't feel his touch.

Oliver placed her palm over his heart. "Do you feel that? My heart is beating. Beating for you. For our family. I came back to you and our family."

Felicity peered up at him, the beat of his heart was so powerful beneath her palm. "Oliver?"

"I'm home, honey." he murmured, placing a hand to her cheek.

Tears spilled out of Felicity's eyes, and she surged forward, pressing her mouth to his, her hands fisting his shirt.

Oliver arms wrapped around her, enveloping her so completely. She never felt anything more real than his arms around her and his lips pressed against hers.

She pulled back to stare up at him, afraid to hope. To believe.

"Are you really here?" Tears escaped her eyes, slipping down her cheeks.

Oliver pressed his lips to her skin, kissing her tears away. "I'm here, and this time, I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise me?"

"I promise," Oliver said with everything he had. This was one promise he was going to make damn sure he didn't break.

Felicity threw her arms around him, and Oliver lifted her.

Felicity wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him. Feeling his chest beat against her chest, the heat of his body seeping into her, finally allowing her to breathe easily again.

Oliver came back to her.

He always came back to her, and she would forever be grateful that he had found his way back to her.

"God, how I have missed you," Oliver said, low and gravelly.

He set her on the counter and kissed her long and slow. Refamiliarizing himself with the feel of her lips, the heat of her body, her taste, her breath. Her smooth skin beneath the palm of his hands, the soft strands of her blonde hair.

Felicity gripped at him her, her hands pulling at his shirt, keeping him as close as possible.

They broke away from each other, their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, and just breathing each other in.

"How's my other girl?" Oliver asked, his lips brushing hers.

Felicity smiled. "You won't believe how big she's gotten. She's entered into the teething phase. It's become a blessing when she's resting peacefully."

Felicity urged him back, and she unwrapped her body from his, jumping down from the counter. "C'mon." She took him by the arm and led him to Mia's nursery.

Felicity stayed in the doorway, watching as he walked to their daughter's crib.

Oliver paused, staring down at his little girl, tears filled his eyes as he reached out and placed his hand over her little body.

"Mia bear, it's your Daddy. I've finally come home to you and Mommy."

Oliver watched in awe as her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at him. "Hi," he whispered.

Felicity brought her hands to her chest, watching something she thought she would never get to see again.

Mia reaching her arms up to her father. Oliver picked her up and held her to his chest as close as possible.

Mia babbled up at him, her lips pulling into a smile.

A breathless laugh escaped Oliver. "Daddy loves you so much. You and your brother. And your mother. The three of you are my entire world, and the whole reason I was willing to risk it all. To protect you. To keep you safe." Oliver choked up with emotion. "I need you to know that."

"She does." Felicity took a step into the room. "I told her and William every day how much you loved them."

Oliver looked at her. "William? You spoke to him?"

"After you.." she swallowed. "After Crisis, I sought custody of William. He's at school right now, but he will be home in two hours. He is going to be so happy to see you."

Shock shook Oliver, gratitude feeling him so completely. God, how he loves his wife.

He looked back at Mia, who laid her head on his shoulder and was falling back to sleep. "You should also know that your mom is the most amazing person in the universe, and we are beyond lucky to be loved by her."

"Oliver," Felicity whispered with so much feeling.

Oliver was consumed with the urge to take her back into his arms. He made sure Mia was asleep before laying her back into her crib.

He took Felicity by the hand, and as soon as they were back in the hallway, he pulled her into his arms, his arm wrapping around her completely. He peered down at her with all the love he had for her. "I love you. I fall more in love with you every moment we're together."

"I love you," Felicity said. "I love you so much it hurts."

"Felicity." He swooped down, pressing his mouth to hers softly, tentatively.

His kiss an apology for the pain she had suffered.

Then he pressed his body against her, maneuvering them back against the wall, tugging her bottom lip between his.

The kiss turned into so much more. Felicity's skin heated, her body thrumming with awareness. With desire.

Felicity lifted her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his seeking tongue.

Oliver groaned, feeling her softness pressed against him, swallowing her soft sighs with his mouth. His hands moved over her curves, urging her as close as possible.

Felicity gasped as his hands brushed the sides of her breast, followed by a whimper when his hands found their way to her ass, squeezing. Her hips jerked forward, she lifted her leg and curled it around his calf.

Oliver felt his pants tightened, his body stirring. He clenched his hand on his wife's ass and lifted her, dragging her up against his body.

Desperation filling them both. For touch. For the pleasure and unity, they knew they would find in each other.

Felicity cupped his face deepening the kiss, wrapping her legs around him. Oliver pushes away from the wall, holding tightly to her as he moved down the hall.

He shoulders their bedroom door open, grateful it had not been shut all the way.

The moment Felicity felt the soft mattress beneath her, she tugged at his shirt.

Oliver raised up, whipping it over his head and reached for her red blouse dragging it up her body.

He reached behind her, unfastening her bra, tossing it over the bed.

He grabbed her leg hooking it around his hip.

Felicity's mouth opened on a cry as he traced the curve of her breast with his tongue, his hips grinding into hers.

Felicity cried out, lifting her hips, the feel of his tongue hot and wet, gliding against her skin had her whimpering for more.

She pushed at Oliver's chest, reaching to undo his pants.

Oliver groaned as her knuckles brushed his waist. He raised up reaching for her pants, he quickly unfastened them and dragged her pants and her panties down her legs, thankful she was barefoot.

Oliver toed off his shoes, unfastened his pants and yanked both his pants and boxers off, kicking them away.

His erection hung heavily, his cock throbbing painfully with the need to bury himself in his wife.

His gorgeous wife was watching with anticipation. Hunger in her expression. For him.

It spoke to him on a primal level.

He wanted to do things slowly, worship her the way she deserved, but his need to bury himself inside, hard and fast, was so powerful it had his cock throbbing painfully.

Felicity sat up and wrapped her small hand around the base of his cock, moving her hand up to squeeze the head with just the right amount of pressure. It snapped what control he had left.

He surged forward, his mouth molding to hers as he pushed her back against the mattress, pushing her legs apart, he moved his hand down, tracing her entrance feeling how wet she was.

With a groan, he planted his hands into the mattress and surged forward, burying himself inside her to the hilt.

Felicity ripped her mouth from his crying out in pleasure, her hands moving to grip his ass as he set a fast, hard pace.

His mouth found her shoulder, not willing to silence the beautiful sounds she made as he drove into her with abandon, her hands pushing at his ass, urging him on wanting more.

God. He hadn't been with his wife in months. He was not going to last long.

"Felicity." he gasped.

"I know." She moaned. "Me too." she lifted her hips, and she let out a choked sound at the change of angle.

Oliver grunted as she convulsed around him, a moment later, Felicity was crying out as she came. He groaned as she squeezed around him like a vice.

He felt a tingle in his spine. He grounded down against her, moving inside her as deep as he could, groaning, he fell over the edge, spilling himself inside of her.

He rested on his elbows and pushed her hair away from her face, both breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath. "Are you okay?"

Felicity nodded. "More than I have been in months. You?"

"I'm with you." Oliver smiled softly. "I'm happy."

Felicity's eyes filled with tears, and she arched up, kissing him while pushing at his chest, uring him onto his back.

Oliver pulled out of her with a groan and rolled onto his back. His arm wrapped around her, bringing her with him.

Felicity sat atop him, sinking back down on his length, her mouth opened on a soundless cry. Oliver groaned deeply from his chest.

Oliver smoothed his hands up and down her thighs. Fighting the urge to thrust up into her. Instead, focusing on the feel of her hands moving over his abs. Stopping when they came to rest over his chest.

Tears filled Felicity's eyes, feeling the beat of his heart, something she never thought she would experience again.

Oliver raised up slowly, cupping her face in his hands. "Felicity, what's wrong?"

"I can't lose you again, Oliver. I won't survive it." tears filled her voice, pulling at the strings of his heart.

Oliver wanted to tell her that she was stronger than she knew. That there was nothing, nothing, she couldn't survive, couldn't overcome, but it's not what she needed to hear. Instead, he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers softly.

He pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm not going anywhere. I have saved Starling city time and time again. We saved the entire multiverse. And now I am done putting my family second. I want to grow old with you, I want to raise our children. I want to help you achieve your dreams the same way you helped me become the hero I am today. I want to be the father our children deserve. I want to be the husband you deserve. Our family is my priority, and I refuse to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of anyone."

"Promise?" Felicity asked, cupping his jaw.

"With everything I am."

Felicity's mouth covered his, urging his mouth open as she started to move. She lifted off him slowly before sinking back down and circling her hips every time.

Oliver groaned into her mouth, arms circling her as he thrust up, every time her wet heat slid down his length.

Their lips parted, and he kept his gaze locked with his wife as she rode him slowly, his hands moving over every inch of her, their lips brushed, breathing in each other's every breath like it was their own. Because it was.

Every single breath he breathed, every beat of his heart was for her and vice versa.

Felicity groaned as her body started to ache in the best way imaginable.

Oliver felt her lose her rhythm as her body grew tired. He wrapped one arm around her and turned them, the change of angle had his cock shifting. Felicity moaned loudly with the feel of it.

Oliver gripped her thighs, encouraging her to wrap them high on his hips. His hands slid up her body, brushing over her breast, moving to her arms and then her hands. He locked their fingers together and held them above their head. He back his hips and thrust inside her.

Felicity arched her back, crying out as he drove deeper inside her, nipping at her collarbone with his mouth. "Oliver."

His name coming from his lips was a sound he loved with every fiber of his being.

Oliver felt his spine tingle as his pleasure ascended to higher heights as Felicity spasmed around him, her orgasm hit her hard. She sucked him in deeper, and he lost his rhythm, he groaned spilling himself inside her. "Felicity, Felicity, Felicity."

Oliver released her hands and rolled onto his back, pulling Felicity with him. Their breathing labored, perspiration covering their skin.

Felicity sighed contently, her head on his chest, hearing every beat of his heart. "Nothing sounds better than the beat of your heart."

Oliver smiled and pressed a kiss to her damp hair.

Felicity closed her eyes, snuggling into him. However, she jerked seconds later as William's voice called out for her.

"Mom, I'm home."

Oliver's brow furrowed. "Mom? When did he start calling you that?"

"A few weeks ago." Felicity quickly climbed from the bed. She couldn't be a few hours had passed already. "I'll be out in just a minute, Will."

Felicity quickly pulled on a pair of her yoga pants and one of Oliver's shirts. "Gett dress and meet us in the kitchen. He's going to be so happy to see you."

Felicity stepped out of the room and found William going through the fridge. "Hey, mom, did you forget to go grocery shopping? We're still out of Orange juice, and we're out of pop-tarts."

"Not exactly," Felicity answered.

William got out a bottle of water and turned to face her. "Are you okay? Your mouth is a little swollen, and your skin is a little red."

Felicity flushed, embarrassed. No doubt, her skin was covered in beard burn, and her lips swollen from Oliver's kisses. "I'm great. Better than I have been in a long time. I feel like I can breathe again."

William frowned. "Really? You're not just saying that? Because it's okay to be sad about dad still. I am. It's only been a few weeks."

"You see, that's the thing, you're dad is the reason I can breathe again."

"I'm confused." William shook his head.

No sooner did the words leave his mouth, did he see a man appear in the doorway.

His eyes widened at the sight of his father. "Dad?"

"William." Oliver closed the distance between them quickly, engulfing his teenage son in his arms.

Willam's arms went around his dad instantly, clinging to the back of his shirt. "Dad."

"I'm here." Oliver smoothed his hand over the top of William's head before pulling back, looking down at his son. "You have no idea how good it is to see you. I missed you, buddy."

"How are you back? You died to save everyone?"

"It's complicated and hard to explain, but essentially I was rewarded for my sacrifices. I get to spend my life with my family. Every now and then, Felicity and I might have to travel through the multiverse because I'm the specter, and it's my job to protect everyone. I can't do this without her. However, you, your sister, Felicity, our family, is my priority, and I won't sacrifice our happiness ever again."

"Are you going to tell everyone you're back?" William asked, taking a seat at the counter.

Oliver joined him, taking the seat next to him. "Not everyone. I want us to live relatively peaceful lives. I don't want to be drag into every problem that the new team can't solve. The people who matter will know."

"And who is that?" William needed clarification.

"My mom, Donna, Walter, Raisa, Thea and Roy, John and his family, Tommy, Sara, and Quintin."

"Oliver, I understand not wanting the world to know your back, but how do you attend to accomplish that. You're Oliver Queen, you're more recognizable to the public than ever before." Felicity worried her bottom lip.

Oliver reached out, looping his arm around her waist, dragging her forward into his lap. "I don't know. We'll figure it out. Together, as a family."

A cry sounded, crackling over the baby monitor.

"I'll get her." William smiled, feeling happier then he thought was possible. His dad was alive, the light came back into Felicity's eyes, and they were going to be a family again.

Felicity linked her arms around Oliver's neck. "My mother is going to kill me."

"You still haven't told her?" Oliver's eyes were wide.

"I didn't have the energy to. When you were gone, I could barely bring myself to get out of bed."

"I'm sorry," Oliver said, somber, he tightened his arms around her.

"That's over now." Felicity murmured. "You're here. We can tell her together."

"You know, when everything's settled, we should go to Bali. You and me, William and Mia. Just the four of us."

"Bali. I would love that." Felicity smiled, her face practically glowing with happiness.

"Then, we'll go." Oliver pressed his mouth to hers, kissing his wife deeply.

Yes, Bali sounded amazing. The first trip of many to come for their family.

But first. "Do you think William will be okay with Mia long enough to get a shower?"

"Yeah, he's great with her," Felicity answered, running her fingers through his scalp. "Want some company?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way.", he scooped up in his arms, and Felicity laughed at his eagerness.

It was the sound Oliver plan to hear every single day for the rest of their lives. Because as far as he was concerned, there was no better sound then the sound of Felicity's happiness.

A/N: In the next installment, we will see Donna finding out about Mia. We will see some Moira and Tommy. If there is anything you would like to see happen feel free to let me know and I might just go with it.

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