#anyway i hope to stream tomorrow take this bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wonderwomanfantasy · 2 years

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ExplicitExplosions is online

This Idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while now so I'm using this prompt to spin my wheels

Deaf!Bakguou x Deaf!Wolf!Reader

warnings: none? slight angst over appearances, the usual warning for cursing.

word count: 1,900 (about)

summary: it's all fun and games to talk to him online, but are you ready to meet him in real life? let him see your face? that's hard to say.

You sat impatiently refreshing the page over and over again waiting for an update. But the gray banner didn’t update. ExplicitExplosions is offline.

It was bullshit really, you’d been sending messages all day back and forth while you were at work, it shouldn’t bother you so much that Explicit was a little late but it did. The live show would start in just a couple of minutes and who were you supposed to talk to about if your best friend was offline?

You’d randomly met Explicit in a discord for Red Riot fans and started talking back and forth. It turned out the two of you had a lot in common and soon switched to DMS instead of ranting in the main channels whenever you were both online.

One of the things the two of you had in common, was a romance anime starring a Deaf lead, something you both could appreciate, but the show had gone months without updates, so this live show with the creative team announcing “something new” was wildly exciting.

You refreshed the page again and this time his name turned green. ExplicitExplosions is online. You grinned and quickly started typing.

EarsnTail: hey hey

ExplicitExplosions: Jesus you can’t even let me be online for two seconds without beating me over the head

EarsnTail: you’re late, this is your fault

ExplicitExplosions: cringe

EarsnTail: cringe + Ratio

EarsnTail: anyways are you excited? Only a few minutes till start.

ExplicitExplosions: fucking obviously I’m excited I’m here, aren’t I?

EarsnTail: hehe ExcitedExplosions. :)

ExplicitExplosions: blocked.

Your teasing had to take a back burner for a while as the stream started. You typed your thoughts out Idlily while keeping your eyes on the screen. The live cc wasn’t great but you were able to manage with the half-broken sentences and the live chat scrolling by in the other corner.

EarsnTail: yayyyy! A season two after all this time I hope it’s good :D

ExplicitExplosions: the animation they showed looks good. I'm excited.

EarsnTail: I’m just excited to see more of the story I’ll probably watch it even if it’s on a shoestring budget

ExplicitExplosions: it sounds like they have the budget to go wild with this “anonymous Backer” just throwing money at them

EarsnTail: yeah that was weird who do you think this anonymous fan is?

ExplicitExplosions: probably just some dumb fuck celebrity with too much money

EarsnTail: a dumb fuck celebrity who earned themselves a kiss from me I’m so excited.

ExplicitExplosions: So all someone needs to do is buy a show and they get kisses from you?

EarsnTail: yee

ExplicitExplosions: slut

EarsnTail: >:0

EarsnTail: rude, don’t act like you aren’t happy too.

ExplicitExplosions: I’m happy I'm just not running around kissing people.

You talked with Explicit for a few more hours before forcing yourself to shut the computer off and go to sleep for the night. You had work in the morning and you couldn’t spend all night talking to Explicit.

He worked tomorrow so you wouldn’t be able to talk to him as much but you would still find solace in spamming him with messages and memes and getting his annoyed reaction to it all a few hours later.

ExplicitExplosions: Goodnight I’ll talk to you tomorrow

EarsnTail: as soon as you get off?

ExplicitExplosions: Clingy.

ExplicitExplosions: but yeah I’ll message you first thing.

With that last message, his icon ticked to offline. Then instantly ticked backed online

ExplicitExplosions: oh before I go, you live in Yokohama right?

You paused for a minute thinking how to respond, He never asked for personal information like this, and you didn’t even know his real name.

EarsnTail: I live a little outside the city but yeah, close.

ExplicitExplosions: I’m going to Yokohama for work in about a month, we should meet up.

Then his icon went red. ExplicitExplosions is offline, and this time he stayed disconnected. You could feel your heart hammering against your chest. Meet him? In-person? But that meant he would have to see what you looked like.

You reached up and touched your ears. They were pointed and the gray fur was soft. Most people with animal quirks had advanced senses, or even super strength and speed. Your quirk on the other hand was mostly for show, the ears, your tail, even your sharpened teeth, and nails, none of that was good for anything practical.

What would he think about your looks? Oh my god, what would he look like? You didn’t even know his name let alone what he looked like, how would you find him in a crowd? That was assuming that you even did meet up with him. No. You definitely wanted to meet him, despite all of your worries, you wouldn’t miss this opportunity to meet him.

Again you found yourself waiting at your computer refreshing the page over and over again.

ExplicitExplosions is offline. You groaned in frustration and slammed your computer shut rubbing your eyes. It was not fair, he was always the one making you wait. It was such a dick move to drop a bomb on you like he wanted to meet up and then just ghost you. He can wait for me for once. You thought.

A second later you opened up your laptop again. He was online.

ExplicitExplosions: hey

ExplicitExplosions: hey dumbass where are you

EarsnTail: god who’s clingy now.

ExplicitExplosions: you’re always the one to message first. It freaks me out when you aren’t constantly up my ass.

EarsnTail: sounds like you missed me

ExplicitExplosions: shut up.

EarsnTail: anyways, I thought about what you said last night, I’d like to see you while you’re in Yokohama

ExplicitExplosions: can’t wait, I really need a local to show me around.

You were nervously playing with your cup with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. ExplicitExplosions is offline. Any minute now, he’d meet you at the restaurant the two of you agreed on.

Maybe he got lost, or his train got delayed or whatever he did for work was keeping him late. You wished he’d just text you so you knew what was going on and how far away he was.

You forced yourself to drop your phone and stop worrying the edge of your teacup, but then you just started picking at your shirt. You hoped you looked alright and that your description of yourself would be enough for him to find you. You didn’t mention your quirk, just a general description and what you were wearing. You were looking for a blonde boy in a red riot hoodie.

You looked up around at the people walking by. No one blonde in a Red Riot hoodie. However, there was a large crowd forming. You stood up on your tiptoes trying to see what was happening, whatever it was it was starting to get closer like the crowd was being pushed closer to you. As people moved you saw what everyone was staring at.

Pro hero Dynamight. You felt your breath get stuck in your throat for a second. It looked like he was trying hard not to get noticed, he was wearing a cap and a large RedRiot hoodie but his blonde spiky hair still stuck out and you could still see his crimson eyes, there was no mistaking who it was, and if the swarm of people around him was any indication you weren’t the only one who noticed.

Your heart was in your throat. You should ask for a picture, or an autograph, you forced yourself to sit back down. What a stupid idea, Dynamight was notorious for being brash and rude to his fans, even if he was one of the only Deaf pro heroes in all of Japan that didn’t mean he’d want to put up with you stumbling over your own fingerspelling while asking for his attention.

You pulled your phone out again.

EarsnTail: where are you

EarsnTail: you need to get here now now now

EarsnTail: you’ll never guess who’s here just walking down the street.

EarsnTail: you’re going to kick yourself for being late not just for standing up a pretty girl like me but you’re missing the chance to see THEE Dynamight!!!

You glanced back up to look and he was staring right back at you, coming closer. Your hands went numb and your phone slipped from your hand landing on the picnic table. He waved at you.

Your mouth fell open and you couldn’t help but check behind yourself to make sure he really was waving at you. There was no one else but you.

He sat down across from you stiffly.

“You forgot to mention the ears, that would be a better way to find you” he signed. You almost sprung out of your seat and strangled him.

“You could have mentioned that you were a fucking Pro hero that would have been a better way to find you” you signed back he burst out laughing.

“Again again, when you sign all angry like that,” he said. You were more than happy to snap at him again until he got it.

You saw his cheeks go red.

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me,” he admitted shyly.

“How? You’re the number two hero!” did he not see the people staring at him? Everyone knew who he was.

“Well, you know my name, tell me yours,” he demanded. You let that sink in for a minute, there was so much about Dynamight online. His favorite color, food, and number. His blood type, his childhood, his day-to-day life all of that you could just look up if you didn’t already know.

It felt like cheating. You introduced yourself and watched carefully as he spelled it back to you making sure he got it right.

Then you weren’t sure what else to say, so the two of you just sat staring at each other. This was so much harder than just texting him, online you didn’t feel this pressure.

“This is weird isn’t it?” he asked.

“A little,” then nothing. Katsuki pulled out his phone and gestured for you to do the same.

ExplicitExplosions is online. You shifted awkwardly as you saw him read your messages.

ExplicitExplosions: So you’re a fan of mine?

EarsnTail: I guess you could say that… It’s weird to think that it’s you that I’ve been talking to.

ExplicitExplosions: why? I’m just another person

EarsnTail: I guess so but still don’t you have heroes you were nervous to meet? Wouldn’t it be weird to talk to them about anime?

ExplicitExplosions: I’ve never really thought about it like that.

ExplicitExplosions: But yeah I get that, I was actually really nervous to talk to you.

EarsnTail: me why?

ExplicitExplosions: I don’t know, I really look forward to talking to you at the end of each day, I was worried that things would change between us after meeting in person.

EarsnTail: so, have things changed between us?

ExplicitExplosions: Definitely. Now that I’ve seen how cute you are Things are totally different.

Your heart did a somersault. Thee Dynamight was hitting on you. Your best friend for the last two years was hitting on you. And you liked it.

EarsnTail: Shame that you got here too late to make this a date

ExplicitExplosions: I’ll just have to get you next time, now look up at me I want to see that cute face.

ExplicitExplosions is offline.

EarsnTail is offline.

#bakugou x reader #chat fic #dynamight #my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #my hero acadamy #my hero academia head cannon #prohero au #Bakugou x Deaf!Reader #fem reader #deaf bakugou

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hookingminor · 3 years

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highly requested part 2 to this angsty blurb, and this marks the end of my 2k blurb weekend! thank you all for joining me and I hope you enjoyed!

Matthew wandered back to the hotel well after midnight.

The rehearsal dinner ended around nine in the evening, but after spending an hour on that deck thinking about everything you said, he decided to take a long walk around the neighborhood.

He wandered through the church venue Willow had booked and sat at the pews for a few minutes, taking in all the decorations that were already set up. Then, he made his way back to the barn where the reception would take place, and all of it just felt wrong: the decor, the table settings, the flowers, none of it felt right.

Matthew didn’t put much thought into the wedding, per Willow’s requests, but it only hit him just how little he contributed to all of it as he sat on his hotel bed and thought about what his ideal wedding would look like.

He didn’t even want to get married in Calgary.

It made sense he would since Willow had lived here her whole life, but Matthew always imagined his wedding taking place in St. Louis where his entire family and all his friends could attend. Besides his immediate family and teammates, no one else could make the long trip to Calgary for his wedding.

When Matthew pictured his wedding, he also pictured you standing at the end of the aisle, too. Matthew was sure Willow’s dress would be gorgeous and she would look absolutely beautiful tomorrow, but when he pictured you standing there in her place, he was filled with a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach he couldn’t deny.

Which is what led him to knocking on Willow’s door at one in the morning.

It took a few minutes before she woke, bleary eyed and confused as to why her fiance was seeking her out so late in the night. “Matthew? What is it? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.” She pulled her robe tighter around her body, as if trying to shield Matthew’s eyes from her.

That was another superstition Matthew didn’t like. He nearly begged Willow to spend the night with him before the wedding, not buying into the ‘bad luck’ bullshit people always said about sleeping together before the ceremony, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I know, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I think we need to talk,” Matthew said. He was still dressed in his suit from the dinner, though he’d shed his jacket and tie long ago. Willow’s face fell at his words, but she let him inside her room anyway.

Matthew sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly and fiddled with his thumbs as Willow sat next to him. Silence filled the room. Matthew didn’t know how to say it.

“Is this about Y/N?” Willow asked calmly after a few minutes passed. “I saw you two talking outside earlier.”

Matthew looked at his fiance, her eyes sad and face dismal. He nodded.

“I figured,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said because he didn’t know what else to say.

Then Willow said the most unexpected thing.

“It’s okay.”

Matthew’s confusion was clear on his face, and Willow let out a genuine laugh as she took his hand in hers.

“I thought if you saw her and she moved on, we could’ve made this work, but that wasn’t the case, was it?” She asked, and Matthew nodded again.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she continued. “I always knew you still loved her.”

“I really did love you,” Matthew said. “I do love you… it’s just…”

“You love her more,” Willow finished for him.

“I am sorry,” Matthew pleaded. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but then I saw her and… I can’t let her go.”

“I know,” Willow said, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and then let out a deep sigh. “Well, I guess we better tell our folks the wedding’s off, huh?”

Matthew showed up to your place a month later.

He stood outside your apartment, nervous and shaking, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You hadn’t heard from him since booking the first flight out of Calgary, dodging all his calls and texts that came in over the week after his wedding. You effectively stayed off social media, deleting all the apps you knew you still had Matthew on in fear of seeing wedding pictures.

The surprise on your face was evident when you answered the door to find Matthew on the other side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon or something?” You asked.

“I didn’t go through with it. I couldn’t after seeing you,” Matthew explained. “Can I come in?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let Matthew follow you inside. He’d never seen your apartment before. You’d moved places shortly after your breakup, trying to erase the memories of Matthew that existed on every surface of your old apartment.

He held out the flowers for you, which you took and placed into a vase and filled with water. Matthew’s eyes roamed your new place, taking in all the photos you had on your fridge to the books you kept on your bookshelves.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” You asked.

Matthew’s gaze focused back on you. “I always hated it when you called me Matthew.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want?” You rephrased, ignoring his comment.

“I want to give us another shot,” Matthew answered confidently.

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting him to say, but it was definitely not that.

“Matthew—”

“And before you tell me how bad of an idea it is, because I know that’s what you’re about to say, just hear me out.”

Your mouth snapped shut and you waited for him to continue.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years, and I’m never going to not be in love with you,” Matthew said. “After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I realized that marrying Willow wasn’t what I wanted. When I picture my future I see you in it. I see you at the end of that aisle on our wedding day. I see you and me in a house with a dog and maybe a few kids. I see you waiting for me at home at the end of the day, and I see you beside me when I wake up in the morning.”

“Matthew, we tried this before,” you sighed. “We tried the long distance, and it didn’t work.”

“And I’m willing to try again,” Matthew replied, crossing the few feet of space between you to cup your face in his hands. “We were young and dumb and immature, and I pressured you to change your life for me when I shouldn’t have. I’m not asking you to pack up your life and move to Calgary right now. Hell, if you don't ever want to move to Canada, you don’t have to. I’ll move to wherever you want to be because wherever you are is where I belong.”

“I’m in this for the long haul,” he added. “There is no one else out there for me, and there never will be.”

Tears welled in your eyes at his profession, and Matthew’s thumb came to swipe at a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

“What makes you think this time will be different?” You questioned softly.

“Because I’m different. We’re different. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re all I want.”

“You’d really request a trade for me?” Matthew nodded.

“It wasn’t fair to put that all on you then, and I know that. I shouldn’t have asked you to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself, but I’m telling you now that I’d do anything for you,” he answered.

Throwing your arms around Matthew’s neck, you pressed your entire body into his. Arms tightened around your torso, keeping you snug against him, and Matthew tucked your head into his chest.

“So what do you say? Can you give me a second chance?” He mumbled into your hair.

“I think we’re well past second chances,” you chuckled.

“I promise it’ll be the last one you need to give me,” Matthew laughed, grasping the base of your neck.

In an attempt to blink away his own tears, a few streamed down his cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed away the tears, leaving his cheeks wet, but Matthew had a dopey grin on his face all the same.

“I’m all in,” you replied to his question, and Matthew had to take a second to make sure he heard you correctly.

His grin spread wider, and he crashed his lips to yours, both of your smiles getting in the way but neither of you cared. Matthew peppered your face in kisses: your brow, your cheeks, your nose, your chin. There was not one inch of skin he left untouched.

You giggled in his arms, twisting your face to the side to avoid the tickling of his scruff against your cheeks, but he kept you close to his body.

“I love you,” he said finally, “and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my shit together.”

You caught his lips in a deep kiss. “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Oh, I forgot something,” Matthew said, pulling back just enough to reach his hand into his pocket.

A small box rested in the palm of his hand, and he opened it to show you the necklace he gifted to you nearly three years ago. When everything ended, you’d given it back to him, and he’d kept it tucked away in his bedside drawer since then.

The dainty ‘19’ hung from the chain, and Matthew undid the hook and looked at you with hopeful eyes. Your stomach did a flip as you turned around, and Matthew draped the jewelry around your neck, connecting it in the back and placing a soft kiss on the skin right above it.

“Now everything’s right where it belongs.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #my writing #requests #blurbs #flames19 #2k blurb weekend

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

* * *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully.

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 14*

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

This chapter literally took me all day, and it's kinda super long, but since I'm only going to 15 it had to be done. Also, I wanted to get a certain part and all the bullshit detail action needs to be written before we get there so I just kept writing to get there. Lulz.

Tag List

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@word-scribbless

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@mrsrafaelbarba

Okay and can I just say about the Goodbye Love thing it was in my head since I had her say "I need to go away".

This was supposed to be the preview:

Mimi Please don't touch me Understand I'm scared I need to go away

Mark I know a place - a clinic

Benny A rehab?

Mimi Maybe - could you?

Benny I'll pay

And this is for chapter 15: Mimi Goodbye love Goodbye love Came to say goodbye, love, goodbye Just came to say Goodbye love Goodbye love Goodbye love Hello disease....

*DUN DUN DUNNNN*

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

The next thing you knew you were waking up in another room. This one was more lavish and beautiful; the sunset was peeking through green silk curtains with a matching chaise lounge. You were now in pink silk pajamas as opposed to a hospital gown, and you weren’t hooked up to near as many wires. Just a pack attached to your arm linked to your sides.

“What the…?” You cautiously crept out of bed, examining the room.

So many questions flew through your mind at that moment. How did you get here? Where exactly were you? Who the hell changed you while you were passed out? It was too much to imagine. You walked over to the full length mirror and examined yourself. You were still semi pale, but you looked pretty damn good for just having surgery this morning.

You walked back towards your bed where your phone was laying on the nightstand. You went to check your messages when you saw the date-- it had been three days. THREE DAYS?

“What the actual fuck--?” You muttered.

Were you in a Black Mirror episode? How did you lose three whole days of your life?! You began to panic, making you pace the room. Wasn’t there a button you could do? You quickly looked around the room for anything, but all you found was a TV remote.

“Oh are you fucking--” You started to curse the world when you saw a little drawing of a nurse on one of the buttons. You frantically pushed it until a girl who looked like she was a nurse out of a porno as opposed to a hospital came running in.

“Oh my god, I thought you were like, dying or something,” She rolled her eyes and twirled her hair like she was a teenage stereotype.

“Where the hell am I? Why am I---”

“Okay you need to like, chill babe,” Nurse Betty put her hands up. “

“I’m not your babe, mmkay pumpkin? We are not friends,” You pushed her hands down. “Now why don’t you get your little chart and explain to me what’s going on in the Twilight Zone?”

“Alright, well--” She whipped out a mini tablet from her scrubs and flipped through it. “You got here three days ago with an order to keep you in a medically induced coma-- Ooooh, wow that sounds like some soap opera shit. Where your organs harvested on the black market?”

“WHAT?” You grabbed the tablet. That DID sound like some soap opera shit. “You read the tablet, all it said was the details about the coma and then FILES SEALED.

“Can you-- unlock this, please?” You shoved the tablet back in her hands.

“Um no, you need a supervisor for that babe,”

“Can you please get someone to unlock this then, BABE?” Your eye began to twitch from stress.

“Yeah, sure I’ll try,” She shrugged and walked back out of the room. You continued to pace faster now, googling “HARVESTED ORGANS ON THE BLACK MARKET”, when a doctor came in wearing navy blue scrubs, looking like Derek Shepherd.

“Well hey there, beautiful,” He grinned at you.

“...What is happening?” You muttered, staring at him. He was gorgeous, you’d probably be more flustered if you weren’t so freaked out and pissed off.

“What kind of soap opera hospital is this?!” You scowled.

“Hey, just because we take care of ourselves around here doesn’t mean it’s Grey’s Anatomy up here,” He made a face.

“...Could’ve fooled me, McDreamy,”

“....Just because my name is Derek doesn’t mean I’m that tool,” He frowned.

“Oh my god you’re kidding me right?” You had to laugh at the irony.

“You’re probably just grumpy because you haven’t eaten for three days,” He patted your head. “How about a nice filet mignon?”

“Wha…?” You looked around the room in disbelief. “How about you tell me where I am and how I got here?”

“You’re at Whistling Pines Hospital and Rehabilitation Center in Hartford Connecticut, Miss Y/N,”

“Connecticut?!” You gasped. “Sonny said it was just upstate New York. Jesus Christ he sent me out of state?!”

“Calm yourself,” Derek put a hand on your shoulder. “We’re basically on the state line, Mr. Carisi didn’t send you to Siberia,”

“...And why exactly was I brought here against my will?” You crossed your arms.

“Against your will?” He snorted. “Your paperwork says you requested to be out while you recovered so you wouldn’t be tempted to ask for pain meds or anything. Part of the detox, you understand,”

“Detox?” Your face scrunched. “Seriously? So...so now what, you escort me down to the padded room now that I’m healed?”

“No, no of course not,” He shook his head. “Our rehab rooms are much nicer than this. And yours is all ready for you,”

“....Yeah, alright,” You shrugged, looking around the room.

“Wonderful,” He gave you another 100 watt smile before opening the door and motioning you to follow him. You walked for a while through what seemed like a normal hospital wing, then you came to two large doors that said “REHABILITATION WING”.

Derek opened it and let you go through first, into a beautiful lobby. The walls were made of marble, there was a koi pond with a waterfall in the middle of it, sparkling water stations next to big leather chairs. It was like a spa.

“Wow...” You whispered as you admired it while you walked.

“Yes, I know,” He chuckled. “It’s quite impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” You began to feel guilty; how much was this costing Sonny? This place looked like it cost the down payment on a house to stay in. You followed Derek down a hallway that looked like a hotel room hallway more than a rehab center, until he stopped at a door labelled 312.

“Ah here we are,” He opened the door and let you go inside first once again. It was an even more lavish room than you woke up in. A nice king bed with fluffy pillows and silk comforters were covered with extra blankets if you needed them. There was a huge sofa in front of a large screen TV, and a little kitchenette with a small fridge, cabinets, a dishwasher, and a microwave.

“....Wow,” You continued to stare in awe at the luxurious amenities this place had.

“Indeed,” Derek smiled. “Now, the TV comes loaded with digital cable and all the streaming services. Our WIFI password is LIVELAUGHLOVE, the fridge is stocked with organic, healthy foods only, but if you’d like to request something you can give our front desk a ring,”

You just nodded as you checked out the room.

“Now,” He cleared his throat. “For the icky part,”

“...The icky part?” You sputtered with a sarcastic smile. “Where did you go to medical school, Sesame Street?”

“Ha ha,” He rolled his eyes. “You will need to stay in your room at all times unless it’s social time, or group time. We do have several common areas such as a pool and a gym, but you’ll need to schedule times to use them, you can’t just walk around on your own,”

“Ah,” You nodded. “So it is a prison, just a very nice prison,”

“It’s not a prison, Miss Y/N,” He shook his head. “Not for you, anyway,”

“Really? Because it sounds like--”

“Your cousin did pay for your residency here, but you’re not under a court order or anything so you’re not confined here. Most of our residents have to be here several months before they’re even allowed out of their rooms at all, you should consider yourself lucky,”

“...Right,” You rolled your eyes. “Where is my cousin, anyway?” You asked. “Is he back at the hospital in New York?”

“Excuse me?” He looked at you in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand,”

“Oh I guess it’s been a few days,” You thought out loud. “He must have gone home by now,”

“...Well I’d sure hope so,” He chuckled.

“So..” You took a seat on the couch. “What am I doing now, warden?”

“Well like I said, I can have food sent up to you if you’re hungry,” He explained as he handed you your own tablet. “We have these for you so you can browse our menu for food and amenities,”

“Mmmkay…”

“Tomorrow’s social time is at 10 am, and your group therapy is at noon,”

“..Uh huh,” You nodded as you absent mindedly flipped through the menu.

“It’s mandatory,” He added.

“...Right,”

“Wonderful,” He beamed. “Now your bathroom is there, obviously,” He nodded to a door on the other side of the room. “It has a shower with three different pressures, and a spa bathtub. I recommend you take a long hot bath and relax, the first night is usually the hardest to get used to.

“Right…”

“Alright well I’ll leave you to it,” He nodded at you with another dreamy smile.

He walked out and left you to your own devices. You walked over to the drawers and pulled them out. They were full of your clothes, how did they get these so fast? It was so bizarre all of this happened while you were out, it really did seem like some kind of episode out of Dynasty or something.

You decided to call Sonny and get some things sorted out. You picked up your phone and dialed his number and let it ring.

“Oh hey...you, how you feelin’?”

“I’m good,” You went and sat on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m good,”

“Really? Not sore or anything?”

“What? OH-- Yeah, y’know, of course, obviously,”

“...Thanks so much for this, Sonny. It’s gorgeous here,”

“Anytime….sweetie,”

“Is um, is Rafael doing better? Do you know?”

“Uh he’s...he’s fine, I’m sure,”

“...Well that’s good,”

“I’ll be up there next week to see you, you hang in there okay?”

“...Yeah, alright,”

“Night darlin’, you sleep well. I love you,”

“Love you too,”

Sonny hung up the phone and glanced over at Rafael who was busy writing his closing arguments for their case tomorrow.

“....Who was that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Niece,” He lied.

“Mmm,”

“...How are you feelin’, by the way Barba?”

“Carisi, we’re not discussing anything personal, ever again. I told you that,” He grumbled, not looking up from his desk. He winced in pain every so often when he pulled on his stitches while writing.

“...Right,” He nodded sadly. He did feel guilty about all of this, but he knew in a few weeks it wouldn’t matter. You’d both forget about each other and move on, it was for the best.

--------

The next day you woke up and felt this overwhelming sense of dread. It was like everything had finally caught up to you, all the memory of how you got here came back to you. You missed Rafael almost immediately, Sonny’s words about how you had traumatized him rang in your head.

You wanted so desperately to call him and apologize, tell him how you would have never hurt him on purpose, and that all you wanted to do was make it up to him-- but you knew you had no way of doing that, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your tablet began to go off, alarms for SOCIAL TIME were set on it. You tried to turn it off, but apparently a counselor had to do it when you arrived. Sneaky bastards. You sighed and pulled on some PJ pants, trying to ignore the blaring sound. You stomped out of your room and down the hall, down some stairs to a huge room labelled “REC ROOM.”

“Welcome Y/N!” A bright and cheery nurse came over and greeted you. “We have lots of activities for you here,” She began to show you around. “We have arts and crafts, several board games, and the Cards Against Humanity rounds get quite rowdy!”

“...Right,” You nodded softly, feeling more and more hopeless as you saw all the other “residents” mingling-- and by mingling, meaning most of them were walking around like soulless zombies. Was this your life now?

----

One Week Later

“Hey…” You saw Rafael laying down in front of you, reaching out for your hand. You took it, not believing this was real.

“I love you, Y/N…” He smiled at you, his green eyes sparkling.

“I love you too Rafael..”

You shot up in bed, it happened again. You had been having the same dream ever since you had gotten to Whistling Pines. It felt so real, especially when you touched his hand. And you always woke up alone, stuck in your prison. Never to see Rafael ever again; It was torture. No matter how fancy the prison was, it was still a prison. You looked at the clock on your bedside table- 3:30 am. You wondered what Rafael was doing at that moment-- well, probably sleeping, duh. Or maybe he was up late, working on law stuff.

You wondered if he was thinking about you, if he ever thought about you. He didn’t seem angry the last time you saw him, in fact you were pretty sure you remembered him holding you and crying. Well, like Sonny said he was probably just upset having to see someone like that again. But-- something inside told you that you didn’t leave on bad terms. Maybe you had been too quick to just delete and block his number. But it was too late to do anything about that now. You laid back down and cried yourself back to sleep for the fifth time that night.

=============

Two weeks later

Sonny drove up to Hartford early Friday morning, hoping to get back to the city that night. He signed in at the front desk, muttering obscenities under his breath. He paced the lobby waiting for you, trying to keep his calm. Finally you emerged from the big double doors: You were dressed in a t-shirt that used to be tight, but now it draped on your shoulders. Your hip hugger jeans were more like men’s jeans, hanging off your pelvis. Your hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and you had no makeup on. You walked over to Sonny who crossed his arms at the sight of you.

“Hey, Sunshine…” He pulled you into a tight hug, your face barely moved into a small smile.

“Can we talk?” He asked as he led you to one of the leather couches.

“Sure,” You nodded like a robot as you sat next to him.

“So Sunshine,” He sighed. “They tell me you haven’t uh, been doin’ so hot,”

“Oh, have they?” You mumbled, playing with a hole in your jeans.

“Yeah they said you’re not eating, you skip the group, you won’t talk to anybody,” He put a hand on your knee. “Is everything okay? Is it your new liver? The diabetes kicking yer ass?”

“...No, I’m fine,” You shrugged feebly.

“....Seriously?” He removed his hand, his soft tone gone. “So, nothing’s wrong with you physically? You’re just being a brat?”

“Excuse me?” You suddenly blinked in surprise.

“Here I came up here because I was worried somethin’ was really wrong with you, like you were rejecting the donation or-- or the trauma was too much, but you’re tellin’ me you just won’t cooperate?” He snapped at you.

“...What do you want me to say, Sonny? Sorry?” You snarked back.

“I want you to tell me why!” He tried not to yell but this was ridiculous. “Do you know how expensive this place is?!”

“Oh wow,” You scoffed. “Well I’m sorry my recovery is so expensive for you, Son,”

“It’s not even recovery, Y/N! You’re-- You’re just laying around here like a fuckin’ angsty teen!” He barked. “Why aren’t you trying? Don’t you wanna get outta here and get back to your life?”

“Maybe I don’t!” You yelled and stood up. “Maybe I don’t care about getting out of here, or not. There’s no point anymore,”

“What?” Sonny furrowed his brows. “Why not?”

“...Because,” You looked down at the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Sonny threw up his hands, finally standing up himself. “Is this about Barba, really Y/N? You knew him for a few fuckin’ days, gimme a fuckin BREAK,”

“He was wonderful to me, Sonny! He was wonderful and loving and caring and YOU made me go off on him, and then I--” You paused, tears caught in your throat. “I fucking traumatized him. I hurt him so badly he didn’t even want to see me when i was dying,”

“I mean-- how bad of a person am I?!” You tried not to break down in the lobby. “I shouldn’t be allowed to be around anyone anymore, I just destroy things. Hurt people. I shouldn’t be around anyone,”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Sonny sighed. “You need to stop, alright? If you actually tried to get better, you wouldn’t--”

“I don’t want to get better!!!!” You flat out stomped your foot, not caring about making a scene now.

“Y/N, tough love time. You need to get your shit together and forget about Barba, alright? I can’t keep paying for you to stay here--” He put both hands on your shoulders.

“So let me out,” You glared at him.

“....And if I let you out, are you going to stay sober?” He gave you a suspicious look.

“Nope,” You said with a smirk.

“Y/N come the fuck on,” He threw up his hands.

“What?” You crossed your arms. “I’m being honest. So either you keep wasting your money here, or let me go,”

“And what, let you kill yourself?” He asked angrily.

“...Maybe,” You muttered.

“Sunshine, come here--” Sonny went to wrap you in a hug, his t-shirt caught up on yours causing it to pull up on his torso. Your eyes went wide when you caught sight of it, letting go of him.

“....Where’s your scar?” You blinked in disbelief, trying to wrap your head around what you were seeing.

“What?” He began to panic.

“Your scar,” You pulled your t-shirt to reveal your own scar from the transplant. “You should have one,”

“Oh, Um--” Sonny began to rack his brain for an explanation, but your brain was moving faster.

“.....You didn’t give me part of your liver, did you?” You pulled away from him.

“Uh well--” He sighed “Not exactly, no,”

“Then who did?” You eyed him accusingly.

“They got you an anonymous--”

“Oh don’t even give me that shit, Sonny,” You stopped him. “This-- this whole thing, when I got here. It felt so much like, like a set up. A soap opera plot,”

“A soap opera?” Sonny laughed. “Come on Sunshine, don’t--”

“Why did you ship me here so fast, Sonny?” You asked, your brain now on a roll.

“What?” He half laughed. “So that you could get started early--”

“No,” You stopped him. “You could have just let me come here on my own, CONSCIOUS,”

“Well I just wanted you to skip the DT’s--” He tried to think of a defense.

“DT’s don’t happen to you if you get drunk ONCE, Sonny!” You raised your voice.

“Well how was I supposed to--” He looked around nervously.

“Who really gave me their liver, Sonny?” You narrowed your eyes.

“I told you, I don’t--” He began to lie again.

“I’ll look it up,” You threatened, making his eyes go wide.

“Y-You can’t do that,” He protested.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to?” You challenged him.

“...Because--”

“Rafael did, didn’t he?” You weren’t letting him think of any more lies.

“Look Y/N, he just wanted to help you out so that you wouldn’t die, like his dad. He couldn’t save him so he saved you. Doesn’t that sound like him?”

You had to admit, it really did. But why lie about it?

“So why didn’t you tell me that, Sonny? Why tell me you did it? Why didn’t you just tell me he did it to be nice, and not that he hated me?”

“I never said he hated you--”

“If you lied to me about that, what else have you been lying to me about?” You put your hands on your hips.

“What?”

“Oh my god…” You started to remember your recurring dream. “It was real, it was real. I know it was real!”

“...What was real?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“I keep having this dream where Rafael is across from me lying on a table, and he tells me that he loves me. And I know that happened I know it did,” You explained.

You were absolutely sure of it now. So many thoughts were running through your mind, you hated that you didn’t remember any of this before.

“What?” Sonny laughed again. “Sunshine it’s just a dream, don’t you think you would remember something like that?”

“They...they gave me something before I went into the OR,” You looked off into nowhere as you tried desperately to recall that morning. “The nurse called it…’giggle juice’,”

“Giggle juice?” Sonny rolled his eyes.

“Did you make them give me that too?!” You went for his collar, but a nurse came out of nowhere to hold you back.

“Wha who whoa, Sunshine calm down,” Sonny waved the nurse off of you. “I got her, thanks ma’am,”

“I didn’t tell them to give you anything,” He said softly.

“Yeah, just to keep me out for three days so I wouldn’t ever see Rafael before you sent me here,” You accused him.

“...Not true…” He shook his head.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to talk to him, Sonny?” Tears choked your throat.

“He didn’t want to talk to you--”

“Bullshit!” You stomped your foot, eyeing the nurse who had her eye on you in case you lost it on Sonny again.

“Bullshit, were you scared he was going to tell me what you were really doing? That you were trying to keep us apart?” Tears began dripping from your cheeks. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you couldn’t believe you could have been with Rafael this entire time.

“No!” He protested, his eyes darting back and forth. “No, I--”

“I don’t believe you!” You pushed him, the nurse stepped forward but you put your hands up in defeat. “You’re keeping him from me right now, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“That’s why you sent me so far, he has no idea where I am, and he wants to know doesn’t he? He wasn’t traumatized by my ‘incident’, he’s traumatized he lost me!” You hated that you cried when you got angry, it made you so much less intimidating.

“Traumatized is a strong word, Y/N…” Sonny rolled his eyes.

“Y’know what Sonny,” You shook your head while you wiped your eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. You bring Rafael here, and I’ll try to get better,”

“...I can’t,” He looked at the floor.

“Wha--Are you serious?” You half laughed sarcastically. “You’d rather me rot in here than--”

“I don’t know where he is, Y/N,” He looked up at you seriously.

“...What?” You asked, not wanting to know the answer.

“He…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He left,”

“What do you mean ‘he left’?” You air quoted left.

“He went on some campaign trail, Hilary I think. He took off across the country, I literally have no idea where he is right now,” He explained.

“Why would he do that?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he said he had to get out of the city--” He shrugged.

“And you couldn’t imagine why?” You gave him a knowing look.

“Oh puh-lease Y/N, he’s not a drama queen like you--” He stopped, thinking about it. “Okay well he might be a drama queen but--”

“You can call him,” You pointed to his pocket.

“I can’t,” He looked down at the ground once again.

“WHY NOT?!” You were getting fed up with him.

“He was….he was super pissed at me for keeping you apart, alright? You’re right. He...he changed his number when he took off, he wants nothing to do with me,”

“So he’s just...gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Sunshine, I promise you. In a few weeks you won’t care about him, and you’re gonna wanna get out of here,”

“Why, you're gonna start adding memory pills to my regiment too?” You scoffed with angry tears in your voice.

“Jesus,” He rolled his eyes. “No, because you’re 22 and you can fall in and out of love like that,” He snapped his fingers.

“No I won’t,” You shook your head. “You’re gonna have to let me out of here or I’ll die in here,”

“God you’re such a--” Sonny sighed in frustration. “I can get them to get you to eat, y’know that right?”

“Do it!” You dared him. “Start treating me like some kind of mental patient, control my life like you think you need to,”

“...I can’t deal with this,” He waved his hands and started to walk away. “I’ll be back in a few weeks, I’m sure you’ll be over this by then,”

“Don’t count on it,” You stomped back into the ward.

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

A week later

You let the night nurse into your room, she brought your meds and a nightly snack.

“Well, are you excited for tomorrow?” She asked, making conversation.

“...What’s tomorrow?” You asked as your downed your pills.

“Your last day!” She smiled.

“...What?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, honey you’re not here on a court order or probation, and your cousin only paid for 30 days. So, you’re leaving tomorrow!”

“You’re just...you’re just letting me go??” You asked in disbelief.

“You’re not happy about that? I’m sure we could talk to your--” She started.

“No!” You stopped her. “No, No I’m totally excited, ready to get back to real life,”

“Good!” She smiled and patted your head. “Make sure you’re all packed, we’ve already filled this room once you leave,”

“...Of course you have,” You rolled your eyes.

She left and you began to frantically pack, ready to get out of here as fast as possible. You would find Rafael on your own, you knew you could.

----------

Sonny’s phone went off while he was out on a call, he saw it was Whistling Pines so he excused himself from the scene and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Yes, Mir. Carisi? This is Sylvia at Whistling Pines, we were just checking on Miss Y/N,”

“....Why would you be checking on her? Don’t you have her?”

“...No sir, she checked out a few days ago,”

“WHAT?!”

“Well it had been 30 days and you had only paid for a month--”

“So you just let her leave?! Why would you do that?!”

“Well sir, for one she’s a grown woman who’s a law abiding citizen, she wasn’t committed here by any kind of law enforcement. And like I said you only paid--”

“For a month,” He growled. “That’s all that matters to you people, isn’t it?”

“Well sir, this is a very expensive--”

“Where did she go?”

“What do you mean where did she go? She left with you,”

“Uh she sure as hell did NOT,”

“...Well she got in a car with a man…”

“Oh my god,” Sonny almost dropped the phone. “I swear to God if something happens to her because of you people I will sue you SO fast--”

“Okay no need to get hysterical,” She began to panic. “Why don’t you just come here and we’ll figure it out…”

“No I think you’ve done enough,” He growled before hanging up on her.

Where the hell had you gone? And with who?!

#rafael barba #rafael barba angst #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanficton #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #sonny carisi #sonny carisi fanfiction

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chil2de · 3 years

Note

Hi just wondering if you’d ever consider writing for chuuya from bungo stray dogs and nishinoya from haikyuu. I love them both so much and you’re my favourite author and I’d really love to see how you’d write for them if you’re up for it

sorry @ all my other fandoms it’s literally the way i dropped everything to write this LMFAO

hiya!! i’m sosos happy this came through i remember a while back a lovely anon requested dazai from bsd and i completely forgot about it so aaaa!! so sorry if you’re reading this that anon! but nevertheless! i really, really adore chuuya and this is in fact my first time writing for bsd and chuuya for that matter. i’m so flattered anonie, thank you <3 i hope i done him justice :) p.s: i got a little bit carried away and was planning to post nishinoya in this one too but.. yeah. be sure to look out for him cause i’ll post a separate piece for yuu! enjoy.

nsfw content below! if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer here before proceeding. thank you!

a note: logically, this fanfic makes no sense because chuuya doesn’t wear his sexy vest + hat outfit until after dazai has left the port mafia so... don’t think about logic, k? (i think so anyway? it’s been a while)

there’s a clink of ice dragging against glass that chimes through the air. inside the glass seems to be a transparent liquid of sorts, leading anyone of the ordinary to believe that it may at least be vodka. in actuality, it’s just lemon flavoured water with some ice. it’s not like anyone would pick up his drink to take a sip anyway-

“oh? it’s not vodka? ehhhhh, are you trying to look cool, chuuya?” dazai takes a bold swig of the beverage before setting it back down onto the coaster. he bears a large grin that stretches from ear to ear, eyes lightly fluttered shut as he hums sardonically. there’s a spring in his step as he traverses beside chuuya and hops himself up onto the window, legs dangling and ankles fluttering.

“what the hell do you want?” chuuya barks, eyebrows creasing in disgust.

“what do i want? hm. like right now? you know.. i could probably go for some coffee right now! a cappucino? no- maybe latte? oh, wait, what about a flat white-“

“dazai.” chuuya hisses, spinning around from his chair to face him.

“seriously. cut the bullshit. why are you here, huh? i’m not having a tea party with you, so if you’re here to waste my time, leave.”

“ugh, you’re always so to the point. a little smalltalk and banter never killed anyone.”

“it killed my brain cells. spit it out.”

“chuuuyaaa~ you’re so meaaaan!”

there’s a scowl that chuuya pierces through dazai so heavily to the point where the latter is forced to drop his foxy act.

“we’re taking a woman in for questioning. she refuses to stay anywhere that’s not a proper bedroom, said that she’s more than willing to comply otherwise.”

“pffft, what a fucking stuck-up princess. so what? you’re sticking me with her?”

“believe me, you’ll thank me. i can’t take her. i’m out on a job in a few.”

“i’d never thank you but alright. i just have to keep an eye on her until tomorrow?”

“even you won’t be able to screw this up.” dazai remarks as he slides off the window, straightening himself before beelining towards the door.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean? you tryna say something?”

“uh-huh. anyways! see you later.”

as dazai heads outside, he takes one last glance at chuuya from over his shoulder.

“alsooo, can you keep the noise down to a minimum? everyone knows your name here already-“

“shut up!”

“yeah, okay~”

the door quietly shuts with a thud and chuuya leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling for a while.

within a couple of moments, he notices the shuffling of footsteps outside his room. instead of looking like a moron who fell asleep with his eyes open, he swings around to his desk and continues to gloss over the details of his next job.

an unfamiliar feminine voice rings out from behind him, causing his interest to peak.

“oh, um, thank you!” you awkwardly bow to the guards? the uh, big scary people with guns? (probably guards) who escorted you up to the room. you take a step inside and let out a small squeak before the door behind you shuts.

and locks.

“eh?”

“what’s with the ‘eh?’” chuuya snorts, not making the effort to turn to face you just yet. he goes to take a sip of his drink and wrinkles his face in disdain when he realises the being that tarnished it beforehand. using his right hand, he crosses over his left and effortlessly pours the beverage out the window. you only gawk at him with utter confusion. couldn’t he have just gotten up to go to the kitchen or something? do they even have a kitchen?

you conclude that standing around stiffly and eyeing the man at the desk isn’t a good look on you, so you move towards the bed. sure you said you wanted an actual room, but, you didn’t think it would be someone else’s.

“may i?” you motion towards the bed. chuuya briefly flickers his attention to you in his peripherals.

“sure.”

you scoot onto his bed, making yourself comfortable. you slide your back up against the wall, leaning yourself into the wall on your right as well. you decide to glance out the window, counting by the different coloured cars in hopes for either time to pass or the mafioso man to offer you some form of entertainment. maybe a book? oh, shit, uno cards? can you even imagine playing uno with him? this guy would flip his desk before the first round’s finished.

you laugh to yourself, and within a split second, you immediately lament your existence.

“what’s so funny?” chuuya implores, setting his pen down. you haven’t even turned yet and you can feel his gaze burning holes into you.

“nothing.” you blurt out.

his sigh fills the room as he picks up his chair before setting it down beside you. chuuya slumps down with his legs spread apart, torso cradling the back of his chair.

his slender and bony hand reaches out, ice cold fingertips from his beverage send you into a state of alarm as he clasps your chin before yanking your head to face him.

“i don’t tolerate bullshit. quite frankly, i won’t repeat myself to you.”

“the least you can do after strolling in here like a prestigious brat is listen to me. i don’t know what shit you pulled to get involved with the port mafia but-“

chuuya grazes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down. he peers down at your teeth and the beginning of the pink in your mouth.

“what were you snorting about?“

there’s a desire that fuels your extremities and every nerve in your body. you don’t know why, but fuck, this man makes you wanna act like an intolerant brat. and you think, what’s the harm? if you’re gonna get picked apart by the port mafia, you might as well start early.

and bonus points? he’s hot as shit.

“that’s none of your business, is it?” you grin over his finger, valiantly lapping and curling your tongue before circling the muscle over the tip of his thumb.

chuuya screws his face at you. his eyebrows furrow in turmoil at the blatant disrespect and the corners of his lips crinkle in distaste. your eyes lock with his deep blue orbs and you smirk at the arousal that glosses over them.

chuuya uncurls his hand from your chin before easily kicking aside his chair. it goes clattering halfway across the room.

“down on your knees.” chuuya snaps, tone deep and laced with danger. you oblige, scooting off the bed as fast as humanly possible before settling down onto your knees.

you eye chuuya as he grabs ahold of his belt. he’s extremely short, for one, so you can see why he’d ask you to sit like this. he’s slender, but not underweight. there’s obvious implications of built muscles along his body, especially his thighs and arms. there’s something about the black fingerless gloves that rock against his smooth and pale skin that makes your stomach stir.

“what are you staring at?” he hisses before tossing aside his belt.

“isn’t that obvious?” you remark, licking your lips.

chuuya flashes you a smirk before zipping his fly open. using his gloved dominant hand, he decorates your face by slapping his thick dick against your cheek. his cock is piping hot against your face. you swallow with anxiety when his size is made apparent to you. he’s got a girth that’s wider than average, with a length of around 7 inches. maybe 8? you’re not exactly sure. you lick your lips at the deep red tones that flush his pretty cock.

“i’ll wipe that shitty attitude clean off your face. you’re reminding me of that dumbass clown.”

“eh? an ex or something? you’re bisexual? that’s freaking amazing! happy pride mont-“

“shut the fuck up. you spew way too much.” chuuya barks before shoving his cock down your throat mid-sentence. you gag and sputter around his length, fuelling his ego.

he grabs ahold a fistful from the back of your head, using your strands to roughly pick you up and back onto his cock. your wrists scramble to his hips and you try to push him back, to whimper that it’s too much and too sudden for you.

“where’s that cocky big girl attitude gone now? you can’t suck a dick? almost makes me feel bad for you.”

you whine and spill muffled complaints but it only fuels him further. it sets chuuya’s veins ablaze, controlling you like this.

you weren’t even sure it would be possible, but he manages to brush his tip against the back of your throat. your vision blurs, tears streaming out from your gag reflex. your nose runs and you can only sniffle constantly. drool and saliva envelopes the underside of his shaft, leaving your chin and some of your neck soaked. you wrinkle and wince your nose at the small stubble that’s slowly beginning to grow back near his base. through your tear stained lashes, you look up at chuuya like the good girl you are, lips wrapped around his dick and all.

“oh you god damn kinky bitch” he hisses out through a whine, features melting in compassion.

in that moment, recollection flashes in his eyes. he slides himself out, and a loud wet slurp fills the room. through your blurry vision and fit of coughing, chuuya grabs the long abandoned chair, spinning the back support until it lands the right way. he takes a seat, cock painfully erect and glistening in the deep orange sunset light.

his slender and pretty long fingers curl in a “come here” motion. his other hand leans into his jaw and he bears a smug grin. the harsh lighting from outside pours in so that only half of his face is visible, even then, you can still make out the fact that he’s about to absolutely fucking ruin you.

“ride me.”

#fun fact: today i found out i share the same personality type as okkotsu yuta #it’s a sign for marriage😔🤚#hsbdhfs i hope i wrote him well <3 thanks anon for the request!#bsd #bsd chuuya #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuuya fluff #chuuyabsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n

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buckthegrump · 4 years

Text

IBTHNTTTY - 4

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Y/n hates Bucky Barnes. Absolutely loathes him what makes it worse is that she has to share her office with him. Now with a promotion on the horizon she has to find a way to work with him and not against him.

Word Count: 1384

Warnings: Angst (kind of), fluff, mentions of past bullying, wizard swears, probably other things

A/n: i’m actually making pretty good time on this fic

They made it to the cabin site safely.

Everyone had made it before them and had already divvied the cabins and teams for the weekend. While Y/n would be sharing a place with Natasha, her partner for the weekend would be none other than Bucky Barnes. That had Jill and Natasha written all over it.

Seeing as how it was still early in the day, they had an hour or so to get settled in their cabin before their first activity. So Y/n was in her cabin with Natasha.

“I know you’re behind it,” Y/n muttered. Both were sitting on their respective beds.

Natasha smiled. “It was Jill’s idea, I just talked to Coulson, and he agreed that the two of you could learn to work together better.”

“We share an office and haven’t killed each other yet, I’d say that we work together fine.”

Natasha snorted. “Please, at least once a month, the two of you get into a yelling match, scaring your poor intern who’s only trying to do his job. Not to mention that whenever I ask someone to take a manuscript down to you, their immediate reaction is to cringe and ask if they half to. Honestly, I’m surprised that no one died in that car on the way up here.”

“I still hate you for making me be his partner this weekend,” Y/n grumbled.

“It’s only two activities; the rest of the weekend, you can mope out on the beach with the book I know you brought.”

Y/n gave Natasha a half-smile. “I brought two.

“Of course you did,” Natasha said as she shook her head.

* * *

“Ok, so now that we’re broken up into teams, here’s how the game will work. One of you will be blindfolded, and the other will direct you through the maze. Both of you must make it through the maze to win,” Maria said.

“What’s the prize?” Someone called out from the back of the group.

Maria shot whoever it was a glare. “The prize will be revealed tomorrow night.”

“Sounds like an exciting way to say they haven’t figured that out yet,” Bucky said under his breath. Y/n bit back her smile, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of her thinking he could be funny; sometimes.

“Anyway, we are staggering the entrees to the maze, and you will be timed. The pair with the fastest time will win this game. Now we will start with group one,” Maria said.

Y/n glanced down at her paper. They were number 30, which meant they were close to last, if not, dead last. It also said that she would be the one blindfolded, which she wasn’t the least bit thrilled about. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Bucky; it was just she was 100% sure that he was going to leave her in the middle of the maze.

And if he did leave her in the maze, blindfolded or not, she would be fucked. If she couldn’t look at a map or hadn’t been able to walk the terrain before, she was shit at directions. It was one of the reasons she walked around a new city when she moved.

The maze was outside and just a quick walk from the campsite. It was made of hay, very on theme for October. But it also meant that they had built it higher than the average adult man, and there was no way to cheat their way out of it.

Y/n reached into her small backpack that she’d brought along and pulled out her book. She sat on a park bench near the maze entrance, which just so happened to be a slide. That made her more nervous because then she couldn’t just retrace her steps to the entrance; she would have to find her way out.

But, instead of worrying about all that, she read her book. She had barely made it two sentences in when she felt someone sit next to her. She didn't have to look to know it was Bucky, but she was just going to ignore him and hope that he didn’t try to talk to her. She would put up with a lot of bullshit, but interrupting her reading was where she drew the line.

He didn’t. He sat there staring at his phone, probably also reading, and didn’t say a word.

Then it was their turn to go in. Luckily they were allowed to go down the slide before she had to be blindfolded. One the other side of that coin, it was getting dark out, and Y/n wasn’t sure if they would finish the maze before it was dark out.

At the bottom of the slide, she put the stupid eye mask on, but before sliding it over her eyes, she looked at Bucky.

She opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and covered her eyes.

“Are you ready?” Bucky asked. His breath tickled her ear. She hadn’t realized he was standing so close to her. She nodded slowly, still not positive he was going to leave her behind. “Ok, just follow my directions.”

For what felt like three minutes, he gave her a steady stream of directions before he muttered a curse and stopped. She stopped walking and turned her head side to side as if she could tell which side he was on.

Buck didn’t speak for a long moment, and Y/n was starting to think he’d left her behind.

“Bucky?” She asked and was embarrassed by how scared she sounded.

“I’m here,” he said, and she let out a sigh of relief. “Did you really think that I would leave you behind?”

“It’s happened before,” she said simply, hoping that he wouldn’t ask questions.

“Well, lucky for you, I want that prize. I’m just trying to decide if we should go left or right.” It almost sounded like he was waiting for her to answer him. “Left.”

They continued through the maze much like they had at the start, with Bucky giving clear and concise directions, and Y/n blindly following them.

“Shit,” Bucky swore just when Y/n thought they were getting to the end.

“What?”

“It’s really dark out,” Bucky answered. “Why did they think this was a good idea, and why are we the last ones?”

“Bucky, I’m going to ask nicely that you don’t leave me behind again. I’m directionally challenged at the best of times. And being lost in a maze will almost certainly send me into a panic attack,” she spewed out information that he probably didn’t need.

“Why are you so afraid that I’m just going to leave you alone in a dark maze?”

Y/n hesitated. “It’s happened before.”

“You keep saying that, I have never -”

“Not you,” she cut him off.

He went quiet again. And although she knew that he wasn’t going to leave him, she couldn’t help herself from -

“Bucky?”

“I’m still here,” he said softly. “Fuck it.”

He grabbed her hand and began leading her through the maze. The twists and turns were going at a rate that left her confused, but the quicker they got, the better.

Bucky’s hands were big and warm. Y/n didn’t know if he did it on purpose or if was a habit he’d picked up somewhere, but his thumb rubbed comforting circles on the back of her hand. Somehow, his hand had callouses and was soft.

That thought brought up a funny story about one of her friends from college, who, when commenting on the softness of a boy’s hands, blurted that he must masturbate a lot.

Bucky dropped her hand, and she instantly missed its warmth.

“Ok,” he said before she could ask what was happening, “I think we’re here.”

For a split second, Y/n was disappointed that he wasn’t still holding her hand. Then she cast the thought from her mind and reminded herself exactly who Bucky Barnes was.

They exited the maze, and Y/n finally took off the blindfold.

“Good job, you two,” Coulson said as he walked towards them, “I’m pretty sure that’s the fastest time yet.”

Bucky looked at Y/n and winked. His smug expression made her want to slap him. She groaned and walked away.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au

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goldenraeofsun · 4 years

Text

Remember Me, Honeybee

Part I

Two hours into the farmers market, and Dean’s had enough. Even the gorgeous day outside, sunlight streaming down from a cloudless sky, does nothing for him.

Next to him in their produce stall, Sam rearranges their vegetable display with all the intensity of Bobby Fischer facing off against the Soviets. He adjusts an eggplant a few inches to the left, eyes it critically, and moves it back where it was.

Yesterday, Dean got sunburned from too many hours in the sun harvesting. But before he could even think about a shower, a visitor pounded on their door because some neighbor ratted them out to local Fish and Wildlife. So on top of dealing with a peeling forehead and an aching back, Dean had to take care of Ms. Rosen nearly breaking and entering to get at Sam or his watercress - she wasn’t really clear on which was her priority.

Sam, the cowardly sasquatch, bolted the moment her car tires pulled up to their farm.

It took an hour to get Ms. Rosen to leave. First, Dean had to show her Sam’s pet watercress plants at the edge of their property. According to Ms. Rosen, they’re an invasive species, which Sam could’ve mentioned to Dean at some point. Then, Ms. Rosen explained the $150 fine - all the while heavily implying she could dock a few bucks if left alone in a room with Sam.

Dean forked over the money. Sam’s virtue got to live to see another day.

At least Becky gave Dean plenty of blackmail material. If Sam pisses him off one more time, guess who’s getting Sam’s phone number faxed straight to her field office?

Dean was looking forward to sharing the whole story with Cas when they pulled up to the farmer’s market that morning. But his favorite beekeeper, potter, and candlestick maker is notably absent again.

As Hannah steps away from her stall to replenish her display, Dean seizes his chance. “Be right back,” he calls to Sam as he darts out behind their table.

When she catches sight of him, Hannah turns her back to lift a crate of soaps that would’ve left Dean sore for days. Goddamn angel strength.

“I may be a dumb human,” Dean starts, “but even I know that angels don’t get sick.” His voice drips with disdain. “Where’s Cas? The real reason, this time. Not that BS you fed me last week.”

Hannah sighs, her normally refined tawny wings fluttering in barely-concealed agitation. “He’s… indisposed.”

Dean folds his arms over his chest. “Cas has been here, rain or shine, every market for two whole friggin’ years. Is he,” he forces out the words, dread trickling down his spine, “dying or something?”

“No.” Hannah shakes her head. “He’s not mortally ill. He’s just indisposed.”

Dean gawks at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You have customers,” Hannah says shortly.

Dean waves off a soccer mom armed with a bushel of kale and a hungry leer. “Sam’s handling the orders.” He points at the line in front of Sam, and the lady walks off in a huff.

“Is that right?” Hannah asks innocently once Dean’s attention darts back to her.

“Cut the crap,” Dean says sharply. “Why hasn’t Cas shown for the past two weeks? The real reason. None of that indisposed bullshit.”

Hannah sighs. “You’re keeping me from my own customers.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’d better talk fast.”

Hannah makes a face like she smelled Sam’s post-Chipotle farts. “Castiel was cursed.”

“What?”

“Keep it down,” Hannah hisses, leaning in. “He - well, it’s a long story. Our cousin, an archangel, cursed him.”

“For fuck’s sake, why?”

Hannah’s lips purse. “Gabriel has been very hard to contact for the details. He apparently thought Castiel was moping too loudly or too frequently. ”

“Moping?” Dean echoes, his brow furrowing. “Cas always seemed fine to me.”

Hannah shrugs. “Ask Gabriel. Now, if you don’t mind,” she lifts her nose into the air, wings straightening, “I have customers.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean retreats to his vegetable stand, his head swimming.

Dean never saw himself as a farmer until his health nut little brother decided to ditch his high-paying (and stressful) lawyer job to play Green Acres, and Dean, naturally, followed since there was no goddamn way Sam knew his way around a tractor. Sam was more likely to mow down his own gigantor foot than move a clod of dirt. Luckily, to Dean, an engine’s an engine.

At the farmers market, Sam’s booth was placed next to Cas’s. On their first day, Cas walked over with a complimentary jar of honey. He was stilted and awkward, sure, but he was also the first one to welcome them into the fold.

Lost in thoughts and worries about Cas, Dean almost gives a customer a twenty dollar bill instead of a one, blanks on when their summer squash will be in season, and accidentally rings up asparagus as broccoli.

“Look,” Sam says after apologizing for Dean’s latest mistake, “why don’t you head back and check on the tomatoes? It’s winding down here.”

Dean dubiously eyes the hubbub of people browsing vegetables.

Sam gives him a light shove towards their truck. “Just go. I know you don’t want to be here, anyway.”

Dean grimaces. “It’s that obvious?”

“To everyone and their grandmother,” Sam says under his breath.

Asparagus Man at the front of the line nods gravely.

“Thanks,” Dean says sourly to both of them.

“Go check on Cas,” Sam says as he gestures for the next customer to step up to the register. “Swing by and pick me up in a few hours.”

* * *

At the foot of the unpaved driveway up to Cas’s house, Dean cuts the engine. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel, debating with himself. Cas might not want visitors.

But Dean brought pie.

Homemade, of course. And if it was supposed to celebrate Sam’s birthday tomorrow, what Cas doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Sam likes cake better, anyway, because he’s a freak.

Dean grabs the pie, shoves open the door, and strides up the dirt road to Cas’s house before he can talk himself out of it for good.

This is what you do for sick friends, anyway. Charlie drove all the way up to the city with chicken noodle soup, Settlers of Catan, and prime gossip on Benny’s on-and-off-again thing with Andrea when Dean had the flu a few years ago.

Dean is just being a good friend. It’s not weird.

He knocks on Cas’s cobalt blue door, his heart beating double-time behind his ribs as the seconds wear on with no answer.

Dean dawdles on Cas’s welcome mat. He tries again. Cas’s house isn’t exactly small, with its pottery studio in the basement and wax room in the back. Cas might be in his nest, on the can, or in his garden by the hives. Hell, with this mysterious curse, Cas might not be home at all - but stuck in some angel hospital being poked and prodded by docs. He probably should have squeezed Hannah for more details.

The door opens as Dean contemplates, for the hundredth time, bailing with his tail between his legs.

“Hello?” Cas says, peering curiously at Dean.

“Cas,” Dean says, relieved. From one cursory look, Cas seems normal. His hair’s fucked up, of course. His dark wings are equally unkempt, feathers sticking out every which way. All typical Cas.

Cas blinks. His mouth opens, closes, and opens again. But no sound comes out.

“You’re up,” Dean says stupidly. Of course Cas is up, or he wouldn’t have been able to answer the damn door. Dean shifts his weight to his other foot. “Hannah mentioned you’d, uh, been cursed,” he says awkwardly.

Cas relaxes a fraction. “Ah, yes, I was.”

Dean gives Cas another once-over. “I just found out this morning, so I thought I’d stop by. Bring pie." He holds up the pie as evidence. "See how you are. But you look good.”

Cas squints at him, his head tilting. “Thank you?” he asks like he had a half-dozen responses in his head and chose that one at random.

“No prob.”

Cas’s gaze darts down to the pie in Dean’s hands for the first time. “Would you like to come in?”

Dean grins. “Yeah,” he says, stepping inside. “I’ll take this to the kitchen. I’m starving. Do you wanna eat it now?”

Cas gestures him forward. “This way.”

Dean throws him a funny look but follows him to the kitchen he’s been in about a hundred times before - for Cas’s annual Spring Equinox party, for a handful of dinners with other farmers in the area, for water breaks in between weeding Cas’s bee-friendly garden.

Afternoon sunlight from the beautiful day outside streams through the large windows that overlook the back porch and garden. It illuminates the kitchen table, absolutely covered with what looks like all of Cas’s beekeeping books.

Dean clears enough space for pie and strides over to the drawer for the baking utensils, saying over his shoulder, “I hope you’re hungry.”

When Cas doesn’t answer, Dean hastily turns back around - only to find himself practically nose-to-nose with Cas.

Dean takes an instinctive step backwards, his ass smacking the drawer closed again. “Dude,” he says in a strangled voice. His heart pounds in his chest at the close proximity and intense look in Cas’s eye. “We talked about this. Personal space.”

Cas retreats, his brow furrowing. “My apologies,” he mumbles. “I must have misread the situation.”

“I - yeah - I guess,” Dean stutters as he grabs plates and stacks two forks on top.

Cas falls heavily into a seat at the kitchen table. Silently, he moves enough books around for them to sit and eat.

Dean eyes the haphazard piles as he takes his own seat. “D’you have a problem with one of the hives or something?”

Cas shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he says, his brow furrowing. “But it’s hard to tell.”

Dean snorts as he cuts them both slices. “I thought you knew everything about bees.”

Cas shoots him a dour look. “I did,” he says pointedly.

“Did?”

Cas fusses with a pamphlet on colony collapse. “I’m trying to catch up, but there is a lot of information to learn.”

Dean frowns. “Catch up to what?”

“To where I was,” Cas says, head tilting.

Dean sets the pie server down to focus on Cas, since he’s not making any goddamn sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cas looks at him like Dean’s the one who lost his mind. “I don’t remember how to take care of them.” After a beat, he clarifies, “The bees. I’ve spent the better part of two weeks relearning how to maintain the hives, harvest honey, check if there is enough honey to harvest...” he drifts off, looking more than a little lost.

Dean blinks. “That’s the curse?” He grimaces as he forks off a generous corner of pie. “Dick move on Gabriel’s part. That’s your goddamn livelihood.”

Cas tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “He didn’t just make me forget the bees.”

Dean chews at Cas thoughtfully. “What else? Please tell me you forgot that time with the goat and a hooker.”

Cas stares at him. “I don’t remember anything.”

Dean’s next bite of pie freezes halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean anything?” he demands.

“I didn’t think it needed explaining,” Cas says waspishly, as all the pieces finally fall into place for Dean. “I thought Hannah told you about it.” His feathers rustle against the back of his chair.

“Hannah only said you were cursed!” Dean flails, “Not that you have goddamned amnesia. Do you know what pie is? Do you know who I am?”

Cas blinks, a little taken aback by Dean’s reaction. “I retain my general knowledge. I know what pie is,” he says. “I don’t remember eating it, but I know it is meat or fruit wrapped in pastry.”

“Oh my god.”

Cas’s gaze falls to the uneaten pie in front of him. “And, no, I don’t know who you are.”

Dean blinks, all the blood draining from his face. He forces out, “You’re serious.”

“I’d hardly joke with a stranger,” Cas says frankly.

Dean lets his fork drop back to the plate with a clatter.

Cas peers at him curiously. “The curse erased all my personal memories, but I was assuming we were friends, is this right? You know your way around my house, and Hannah wouldn’t have divulged my condition to just anyone.”

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly, “we’re friends. I - my brother and me, we have a stand next to yours at the farmer’s market.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “Work colleagues, then.”

Dean snorts. “A little more than that.”

Cas bites his lip. “But you told me to respect your personal space. If we were -”

“Woah!” Dean cuts in before Memento can come up with any more bright ideas, “We’re close friends, alright?” he says before Cas can get another word out, “But not… like that.”

Dean doesn’t even know if Cas goes for humans. Most angels don’t. Cas never mentioned any romantic partners, and Dean never pressed. Better to keep that box locked up tight. Cas never shied away from giving his opinion to Dean or anyone else. He’s the most blunt, sincere person Dean knows - angel or human.

If he felt anything for Dean - the barest speck of more-than-friendly feelings, he’d have said something.

“Oh,” Cas says, and, behind him, his wings droop the smallest fraction.

Dean scans the table and pushes Cas’s worn copy of The How-To-Do-It Book of Bee-Keeping by Richard Taylor his way. “Test me.”

“What?”

Dean shovels more pie into his mouth. “As’ me anyfin’,” he mumbles.

Bemused, Cas opens the book to a random page. “How do you use a bee escape?” he reads aloud.

“Do you know what they are?” At Cas’s headshake, Dean holds his fingers about three inches apart, “They’re little plastic doodads with little bee-sized holes in the middle. You slide ‘em in the hive right before you’re about to harvest. Once they’re fitted, you smoke out the bees, one comb at a time. Once they’re out of the way, you can scrape off the honey.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Do you also keep bees?”

Dean can’t help his loud laugh. “God no,” he says as he closes his mouth around another bite of pie. “I’m just a farmer. But I’ve helped you out a few times.”

At least twice a month since Dean moved to this corner of semi-rural America, but who’s counting. Honey is only harvested once a year, but Cas can always use an extra set of hands in his garden. Or around the house. Dean’s worked off more than one argument with Sam by kneading clay in Cas’s pottery studio basement.

“So you know all this from me,” Cas says dubiously.

“Sure do,” Dean says, smacking his lips as he debates another slice of Cas’s get-well-soon pie. “You’re a good teacher, and once you get on a roll about the bees, it’s kinda hard to shut you up.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” Dean says as he cuts himself another (smallish) slice. “I look hot in a beekeeper suit, anyway.”

Cas frowns, confused. “Do most humans find baggy coveralls and heavy veils sexually appealing?”

Dean snorts. “That was a joke.”

Dean doesn’t mention that he finds the beekeeper getup hot as hell as long as it’s Cas wearing it.

It’s just - Cas doesn’t usually bother with the veil since he likes to have a full range of vision when caring for his bees. Dean once let a whole comb drop on his foot at the sight of Cas bent over, wholly concentrated on the hive, a barely-there smile hidden in the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes were luminous in the bright sunlight, and every few seconds he would lick his lips, probably to wipe away the beads of sweat gathering on his upper lip.

“Oh,” Cas says, a faint blush touching his cheeks. His gaze drops to his plate, and his wings sag behind him.

Dean mentally kicks himself. Cas might still have all a whole encyclopedia shoved in his brain, but jokes will fly right over his head like so many of Cas’s precious bees. Since Dean started hanging around, he had been getting better with the jokes and references, but Total Recall Cas got that goddamn factory reset, so Dean has to cool it for now.

“Forget it,” he tells Cas. “I’m an asshole.”

Cas squints across the table at him. “You are not.”

“Huh?”

Cas carefully spears off a bit of pie. “You came by to check on me, offer me food,” he slips his fork into his mouth, eyes closing as he savors the tart cherries and buttery pastry, “stay and talk.”

“I, mean, yeah,” Dean says, wrongfooted, “we’re friends. ‘S the least I could do.”

Cas has another bite. “This is really good.”

“Thanks,” Dean says before he crams the rest of his slice into his mouth. He studies Cas as they both eat, an uncomfortable foreboding settling deep in his stomach. Now he sees it, how Cas doesn’t look at him with any familiarity. It’s more like, to Cas, Dean is some fucked up jigsaw puzzle slash zoo animal. Eventually, Dean has to ask, “Are you going to get your memories back?”

Cas shakes his head, his expression hardening. “I’m not sure.”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious?” He braces both elbows on the table. “But you were cursed - there’s gotta be a way to break it. That’s how curses work, right?”

Cas exhales a slow sigh. “Gabriel did say there was a way to break it.”

“And you haven’t yet?” Dean demands, almost offended on Cas’s - his Cas’s - behalf. “You’re okay forgetting your whole life?”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you insane?” he hisses, his feathers puffing up like an angry cat. “Of course I am not ‘okay,’” he says, air quotes and all, which Dean hasn’t seen since he told Cas they were lame. (He felt bad about it for a week afterward and gave Cas a free apology pumpkin. First of the season.)

“I am able to navigate the outside world as well as a human toddler,” Cas continues heatedly. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past two weeks?”

Dean huffs an impatient breath. “What have you tried so far?”

Cas grimaces. “Gabriel said it could be broken like all curses could be broken.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I have no clue,” Cas says frankly. “I spent a week in Heaven’s archives and libraries. The most common way to break curses is by consuming a stone taken from the stomach of a goat -”

Dean makes a gagging noise.

“-or bathing in the blood of a virgin at the new moon.”

“Not any less gross,” Dean says emphatically. “Where the hell are you going to get virgin blood? Are they talking about, like, a whole virgin? Or does born again count?”

Cas shakes his head. “The new moon was four days ago.”

Dean frowns. “Did you have to do the blood thing?”

From the look on Cas’s face, Dean isn’t going to make him watch Carrie anytime soon.

“So I went to more obscure magic,” Cas continues. “I tried bathing in a natural source of water. And then I ran a bath and filled it with salt, since salt repels evil.”

“All I’m hearing is lots of bathing so far.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I lit sage in every room and burned three types of wood. I wore an evil eye bracelet. I sprinkled consecrated water blended with honey over the threshold.”

“No dice?”

Cas throws him a baleful look. “I have ants now.”

Dean snorts. “Well that sucks,” he says, since what else can you say when your best friend swaps all his memories for a Bug's Life?

Cas sighs. “From my notes and research, I can’t leave the hives completely unattended, so I’ve spent the past few days trying to figure out how not to kill them,” he says, gesturing to the rest of the kitchen table. “Once I’ve determined if the bees will survive on their own, I can look back into the curse.”

Dean purses his lips. “Have you prayed to Gabriel? Tried to convince him to take it back?”

“Every day since it happened,” Cas says, his face somber.

“Alright,” Dean says, grabbing Cas’s empty plate, “I can’t help with the curse stuff since I save the teen witch adventures for Sabrina. I can help with the bees, though, if you want.” He gets to his feet and dumps the plates in the sink.

Once his back is turned, he frowns as he thinks his words over. Who knows if this Cas actually wants him around? This Cas doesn’t know him from Adam.

To the dishes Dean says, “The next beekeeper is a few towns over. I could give him a call for you, if you’d rather have him. Cain’s mostly retired, so he’d probably have the time to show you the ropes.”

“Is Cain an angel?”

Dean laughs over the splashing water. “No, he’s a crotchety old bastard who would rather live with bees than people. You get along.” He sets the rinsed plates out to dry and faces Cas. “I’m sure you have his number in your phone too, come to think of it.”

Cas meets Dean’s cautious gaze with his usual soul-searing stare. “I wouldn’t mind if you helped me. Maybe I could call Cain if there are any advanced problems we can’t figure out together.”

Dean smiles. “Sounds like a plan.” He jerks his head towards the backyard. “You wanna get suited up?”

“Now?” Cas asks, alarmed.

“No time like the present,” Dean says as he walks out of the kitchen without waiting for Cas to follow. “Come on, we’re wasting daylight.”

* * *

Cas stares at his beekeeper suit, hanging in its usual place on his screened back porch, next to his gardening gloves.

“You okay?” Dean asks. “You’ve got a spare in your shed, so I’ll grab it on the way.”

Cas picks up the suit like it’s about to bite him.

“’S a good thing I’m here,” Dean says as Cas slowly unzips the front. “It’s always a bitch to get your wings covered.”

Cas’s wings slump. “I have a feeling this is going to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Hey,” Dean says, taking a step forward, “no, it’s your bees. You love them.”

Cas frowns. “But I don’t remember how.”

Dean grins. “Then you’re a lucky son of a bitch who gets to fall in love with something all over again.” He sighs wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to erase Star Wars from my brain and watch it again for the first time.”

“What is Star Wars?”

“A trilogy of movies from the 70s and 80s,” Dean says, his smile widening.

Cas nods. “I’ll have to rewatch them, then.”

“Damn right,” Dean says. “I gave you the DVDs for my birthday last year, so they should be around here somewhere.”

“For your birthday?” Cas asks, eyebrows rising. “Isn’t gift-giving normally the other way around?”

Dean shrugs. “But I’d been bugging you to watch ‘em with me for years. Trust me, it was an awesome birthday.”

Cas opens his mouth like he’s not sure where to poke holes in Dean’s story first, so Dean reaches for the wing covers. “I think we should do the hard part first.”

“You’re currently the expert,” Cas says as he sets the suit aside.

Dean frowns as he takes in Cas’s black wings, reflecting muted tones of magenta, purple, cobalt, and green. Normally, Cas rocks the sex wing look - a few feathers askew here and there like someone raked their fingers through them - but now his wings look more like Cas stuck his alulas in an electrical socket.

Without thinking, Dean says, “It’s gonna be hard to get them in the wing covers. They’re a little messed up, dude.” As Cas’s face falls, Dean adds quickly, “Nothing a little grooming can’t fix.”

Cas flushes. “I haven’t been able to reach my whole wingspan on my own. Hannah offered-” he breaks off, his gaze skittering around to settle just over Dean’s left shoulder. “But I don’t know her, not really, so I was uncomfortable accepting.”

Dean takes a step back. “I mean, you don’t need to do it. I’ll have to touch a couple feathers to get these on you, if you’re okay with that.”

Cas swallows. “No, you’re right. My wings are a mess.”

Dean’s fingers practically tingle with the urge to reach out and smooth down the closest feathers, but he shoves his free hand deep into his pocket instead.

“Can you help me?” Cas asks.

Dean quietly dies inside.

Cas’s wings flutter in anticipation, and Dean is so, so weak.

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly as he drops the wing cover and approaches Cas’s back. “You sure, man? I - I’ve never done this before.”

Cas turns his head. “Never?”

Dean clenches his hands into fists. Don’t touch. Not until he says so. Dean can keep his goddamn hands to himself. Cas deserves that much.

“Do you want me to walk you through it?” Cas asks softly. “I know how, since it’s only personal memories about my life that seem to have been affected.”

“Ah,” Dean hesitates, a hundred and one wing kink porn videos flashing through his head like popup ads. “No,” he coughs, “I know the mechanics.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

Dean fidgets in place. “‘S like picking beans, right? Don’t pull on them too hard. They’ll come off if they want to come off. Make sure nothing is sticking out at weird angles.”

Cas makes a face. “Did you just compare my wings to legumes?”

“Maybe?” Dean says defensively. “Look, I know vegetables, and I know what your wings are supposed to look like. What else do you want from me?”

Cas’s mouth opens, but no words come out. With a sigh, he faces forward, presenting his wings for Dean.

Dean inhales a deep breath. Christ, his hands are goddamn shaking. Get a fucking grip, Winchester. He lightly touches the base of Cas’s left wing.

Cas shivers, the feathers rippling.

Dean yanks his hand back.

“Sorry,” Cas says sheepishly. “You took me by surprise. Please continue.”

Gently, Dean grazes the base of the wing again. The feathers rustle like under a moderate breeze, but Cas doesn’t tell him to stop, so Dean keeps going. He feels along the surface of Cas’s wings, most of the feathers slipping, glossy smooth, under his fingertips - until he catches the first snag. Nerves rocketing up to eleven, Dean tugs lightly on the first feather out of place.

Cas sucks in a breath.

It comes loose, and Dean has a fleeting, stupid thought to steal it for himself. But he lets it flutter to the floor.

Dean soldiers on, biting his lip as he tries to keep himself from grabbing handfuls of feathers and burying his face in Cas’s wings. Meticulously, painstakingly, he combs through the mess. As he moves closer to the second joint, Cas’s feathers, which had been subtly shifting the whole time, stiffen.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

Cas nods, stilted. “Please continue,” he says, his voice rough.

Dean frowns. If Cas is uncomfortable and doesn’t want to tell him, Dean’s not going to be the asshole who turns a blind eye to the signs. He withdraws his hands, and Cas’s wings -

They flare out, seeking Dean’s touch.

Without thinking, Dean blurts an astounded, “Dude.”

“Apologies,” Cas says, and, from this angle, Dean has primetime viewing of the back of Cas’ traffic light-red neck. His wings retreat to fold stiff as a board behind Cas’s back.

“Hey, no,” Dean says as he lays a hand along Cas’s wing, petting it gently. “I just wanted to check in with you.” He grins lopsidedly, not that Cas can see him. “Communication is important.”

Cas coughs. “Indeed,” he says, and his voice still sounds off. “Please continue. I,” he breaks off, turning a little in place so Dean can see half of his face, “I was enjoying it.”

“Good,” Dean says with a little too much enthusiasm. “I - uh, me too.”

Cas blinks. “You were?” He frowns. “Grooming is… boring. A chore.”

“Not for humans,” Dean says as he picks up where he left off. “We don’t have big fancy wings to lug around everywhere. They’re-”

“What?” Cas waits, clearly expecting an answer.

Dean sighs. “Cool,” he supplies lamely. “Your wings are cool.”

Dean can’t see Cas’s face with his back turned, but his wings fluff up ever so slightly, so Dean counts it as a win. “I’m glad you think so,” Cas says quietly.

“’Course,” Dean says, easy as pie. He pulls on another feather, and, when it doesn’t come out, tucks it back into its proper place, “I’ve never seen an angel with wings like yours. Malachi’s got dark grey ones, and I thought they were your shade of black, but they’re not. Plus, he’s an asshole.”

Cas chuckles. “I don’t see how him being an asshole has anything to do with his wing color.”

“No, but, if you ever run into him - an angel with dark grey wings - now you know.”

“So you’re only looking out for me.”

“You don’t know this yet,” Dean tells him conspiratorially, “but I’m awesome.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to see that for myself.”

Thank God Cas can’t see Dean’s face. Equally embarrassed and pleased, Dean rambles, “You should also watch out for Metatron - the white-winged dude who runs the thrift shop down the road. He’s been angling to set up shop at the farmers market for fucking ever even though he has a storefront for all his crap. Whoever said white wings meant purity was full of shit because Metatron’s a douche.”

Cas laughs, and Dean nearly slumps over in relief.

He can still make Cas laugh.

“Hannah, she’s okay,” Dean continues as he combs through the rest of Cas’s secondaries and coverts before he gets to the primaries, large and built for flight, and completely within Cas’s reach to groom himself. “But her partner, Duma, hates you for some reason, so I’d steer clear of her.”

Cas’s wings dip a few inches. “It doesn’t sound like I’m on good terms with many angels.”

Dean lightly runs his palm over Cas’s flight feathers - while he’s back here, he might as well. “I guess not,” he admits because Cas is right, “but they’ve all got massive sticks up their asses, so you’re better off.”

“They’re family.”

“They’re dicks,” Dean corrects. “Come on, you’re goddamn cursed with amnesia , and not one is here helping you out? Dick move for dick angels,” he finishes.

“Hannah visited.”

“Like I said, Hannah’s okay,” Dean says as he straightens up.

“At least you’re here,” Cas points out.

“Yeah,” Dean says bitterly as he brushes out bits of fluffy down near the base of Cas other wing, “After two weeks.”

“You said you didn’t know.”

“I should’ve.”

“How?” Cas asks, sounding baffled.

Dean scoffs as he cards his fingers through the shorter feathers near the bone of Cas’s wing, “You didn’t show at the farmers market. You always show.”

“But-”

Dean shakes his head. “I should’ve known something was up.” He yanks a little too hard on a feather, and the brittle shaft breaks between his thumb and pointer finger. Dean lets it fall to the floor in disgust. “But Hannah said you were sick, and I didn’t know if you were the type who wanted company or everyone to stay the hell away. And then I talked to Sammy, and he said angels don’t really get sick like we do.” He exhales a slow breath, consciously holding himself back from tearing any more feathers out. Cas doesn’t deserve that, especially after all the shit he’s dealing with.

“We do get sick,” Cas says, his voice breaking through Dean’s morose reminiscing of the past week, “But never with the type of illnesses that can be treated outside of Heaven.”

“That’s what Sammy told me,” Dean says heavily.

“You were worried?”

Dean pokes him in the muscular part of the wing. “Of course I was worried.”

Cas’s head tilts, but not enough that Dean can make out his expression. “Because we’re friends.”

Dean swallows. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “because we’re friends.” He tugs on a few more feathers, and one comes loose. He holds it between his fingers for a beat, rubbing his thumb along the vane. With a sigh, he moves onto Cas’s other flight feathers. He gives them a few long strokes, unable to help his smile as he feels at the power, the potential, all hidden in Cas’s wings. But, eventually, he has to straighten up.

“All done,” he says with forced cheer as Cas turns around to face him.

Cas blinks a few times like he’s coming out of a trance. “Thank you,” he says gruffly.

He spreads his wings.

Dean’s breath catches in his chest, and his awe must show all over face, judging by Cas’s barely-there smirk. But, dammit, Dean’s going to enjoy the sight. Cas never puts himself on display like this, preferring to play the nerdy beekeeper in a trench coat rather than an almighty Angel of the Lord.

Cas turns his head to inspect Dean’s work. He gives an experimental flap, sweeping all the old feathers littering the floor up into the air. “Thank you, Dean,” he says sincerely. He folds his wings back, and Dean’s heart aches for something he never had in the first place.

“Don’t - don’t mention it,” Dean chokes out.

A fluffy piece of down drifts down to settle on Cas’s nose. He goes cross-eyed to keep it in view.

Dean cracks up. Grinning, he reaches up to brush away the offending bit of down.

Cas catches his arm in an iron grip, his own face oddly intense.

“Cas?”

But before Dean can finish his sentence, Cas pulls him closer and seals their mouths together.

Dean lets out a muffled (completely manly) noise of surprise against Cas’s lips before muscle memory takes over. As Dean kisses back, Cas makes a light soothing rumble in the back of his throat, his touch gentle and warm. Dean’s other hand grasps desperately at Cas’s shirt, anchoring him in place. An electric, bubbly feeling is exploding in his chest, a wild kind of joy Dean normally would tamp down, tell himself, watch out for the other shoe to drop.

Other shoes like Cas’s missing memory.

Dean freezes, and it takes him a long moment to realize Cas isn’t moving either. His grip on Dean’s arm has gone slack. Dean opens his eyes to find Cas’s eyes wide open and glowing with an electric blue light.

Fuck.

Dean’s watched his fair share of angel-on-angel porn and more than his fair share of angel-on-human porn, and kissing’s not supposed to do that.

Dean takes a stumbling step back. “Cas?” he tries.

But Cas doesn’t move. He doesn’t give any sign he heard Dean at all.

Dean falls forward, tripping over his feet. He grips Cas, hard, by the shoulders. With his heart in his throat, he gives Cas a small shake. “Cas?” he tries again, and his voice sounds alien to his own ears, loud and breathy with his panic. He shakes him harder. “Cas!”

Several agonizing seconds pass, and the light slowly dims from behind Cas’s eyes, leaving behind his normal blue.

“Dean?”

Dean’s knees nearly give out with relief. “Hey,” he says weakly, “Nice to have you back, buddy.”

Cas blinks a few times. He swallows, a strange expression coming over his face.

“You okay?” Dean demands. “What the fuck was that?”

Cas stares at him. “That was the curse breaking.”

Read Part II here!

#profoundnet #angel castiel #beekeper castiel #farmer dean #fluff #wing grooming #amnesia #mutual pining #friends to lovers #rae writes fic

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robinrunsfiction · 4 years

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Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~3,900 Author’s Note: This is the first in a series of stories inspired by songs by Taylor Swift, this one of course being Style from the album 1989. I had intended on holding on to the series until I had all of them done, but I’m struggling to write... anything lately so I’m posting the two that I do have done. Full honesty, this story is one I originally wrote about two years ago for a different fandom and then modified for this challenge. I hope you enjoy.

The vibrating of her phone on the nightstand next to her woke her from her light sleep. She rolled over, bleary eyed, and checked the screen.

From: Frank Iero Message: hey

"Oh for fucks sake" she muttered to herself. She glanced at the clock, just before midnight, no surprise there. 'What's up?' She texted back. She set her phone down and rolled back over, willing it to stay silent.

Until it vibrated again.

'So you are up…' he replied

'Because you woke me up' she replied.

'Anyway, wanna come over?'

'Where's your girl tonight?'

They had an arrangement. They would only contact each other if they knew the other wasn't seeing anyone and they'd hook up, no strings attached. It had been working out pretty well for a few years now. They were each occasionally with a significant other for a while, him more usually than her, but nothing long term, so they weren't ever out of their routine for too long.

'She's gone' he replied.

'At the very least you come to my place' she replied back.

'Already on my way'

(YN) dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror before curling up on the couch and waiting for the doorbell to ring. About 20 minutes later, she had almost fallen back to sleep, when there was a knock. Trudging to the door, she opened to find that familiar face.

"Hey" she said, letting him in.

"Hey, glad you were up," he said with a smirk as he took off his coat and tossed it on the couch where she had just been sitting.

"I wasn't, remember?"

"But you are now," he said, taking a step toward her, putting his hands on her hips.

"Lucky you," she replied as she slipped from his grasp leading the way to her bedroom. Frank had hardly taken a step when she pulled off her tank top and flinging over her shoulder at him.

It always amazed (YN) that no matter how long they may have been apart, they were always able to pick right up. She could remember exactly what to do to drive him wild, he remembered all the spots that she loved him to kiss and touch.

When they both finished and were both lying back, catching their breath, he looked over at her and chuckled.

"What?" She asked with a laugh as well.

"I dunno" he muttered.

"So what happened with your girl?" She asked after a few moments of silence.

"Nice pillow talk, (YN)."

"Oh come on, you know how I am" she said rolling over onto her elbow to look at him.

"Nosey?"

“I was gonna say kind of a bitch, but I suppose that’s true too,” she said with a shrug and he laughed.

"She said I wasn't giving her the attention she deserved, so she found someone who could."

"So she starts dating a touring musician, someone who everyone knows is busy as hell, and bails when he's busy as hell? What a bitch."

"Eh, it was fun while it lasted."

(YN) rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

"What have you been up to?" He asked.

"Ya know, the usual" she said with a shrug.

"Been seeing anyone?"

"Why?"

"Making conversation."

"Nah. Been on a few dates, but nothing worth the effort." She said rolling on to her back again. He then rolled onto his side and looked at her.

"What?" She asked again, with a sideways glance.

"Admit it, you missed me."

"Ugh, you are the worst."

"You know you did."

"I missed... parts of you" with that same sly grin from before.

"Well, let's get reacquainted again."

The next morning (YN) woke up with the sun streaming in around the blinds. She was glad she had the day off because Frank had kept her up late. She looked over at where he slept beside her, back turned to her and she couldn't help but smile fondly at his tattooed back. She pulled herself out of bed and slipped into the shower.

Frank woke up and didn't find (YN) next to him, but soon realized he heard the shower running. Even when he was with his ex, he missed coming over to (YN)'s place, or when she would stop by his house unannounced. They were friends first and foremost, but the physical chemistry between them was undeniable. Their agreement had been working so well for so long that he didn't dare say what he had been feeling for a while now.

He heard the shower shut off and a minute later she came back into her room with her plush towel wrapped around herself.

"Oh you're up" she smiled. She thought maybe he would have slipped out by the time she got out of the shower.

"Yea I just woke up. You gotta work today?"

"No, today's my day off. You?"

"We got a meeting this afternoon."

"Sucks to suck" she said with a grin, pulling on underwear from her drawer.

He laughed lightly as he got up from the bed and got dressed. She glanced over at him while pulling on her shirt. It looked like there was something on his mind, but she didn't know if she should pry. "Wanna get brunch? Your treat?" She asked with a grin.

"Sure," he replied with a laugh.

They headed to a diner down the street and ordered their meals and caught up a bit more since it had been a while since they had been face to face.

"I have to go to this bachelorette party for my coworker tomorrow after working all day." (YN) said, rolling her eyes. She was a hair stylist and knew she had a busy Saturday booked. After being on her feet for hours, she knew she'd rather just crash in bed than go out.

"If you don't wanna go, don't go."

"No, I'm gonna go, I don't just bail, but I am gonna hate it the whole time. I'll just have to get a good night of sleep tonight." She said, narrowing her eyes at her friend across the table.

Frank shrugged and put his hands up defensively. "You coulda told me not to come over."

"Oh, you and I both know that wasn't gonna happen."

"Again, you missed me."

"Stop projecting your feelings on to me" she said hitting his arm from across the table and he laughed.

"Anyway, I gotta get home and shower, let's get outta here."

Frank paid for their meals, and they walked back down to her building.

“Good to see you again, (YN),” he said as he turned toward his car.

“Welcome back to the land of living Mr. Iero,” she replied as she let herself into her building.

The next morning (YN) woke up without any text messages interrupting her sleep. She got out of bed, showered and got ready for her day. She had a full schedule that included two of her more difficult clients in the afternoon.

Thankfully the day went quickly, but by the time her last client was done she had a splitting headache. She knew if she wanted to leave Jenny wouldn’t hold it against her, but Susie who organized the bachelorette party for Jenny would never let her forget it. As she cleaned up her station, she heard champagne bottles popping in the back room and decided she could at least go to dinner if it involved champagne.

After pre-gaming in the back of the salon, the group headed out to dinner and (YN) found her patience growing thinner, and the drinks she was consuming weren’t helping. There were multiple conversations happening, but she found herself sitting back, wishing she was anywhere else at that moment.

“(YN), you’re single, what’s up with that? You’re so pretty and feisty, I can’t believe you can’t find a guy who can put up with that!” One of her coworkers asked. She opened her mouth to reply to the back handed compliment, when Susie jumped in.

“I heard she’s got a friend with benefits!”

“Well yes Susie, you’re right! Because I don’t see the point in being in a relationship. I can get laid without all the unnecessary bullshit that goes along with it! Win-win!” She said taking a smug sip of her drink, relishing in the dumbfounded looks and glares being shot at her from her coworkers who were celebrating the idea of long-term commitment and romantic love.

She finished her dinner and glanced at the time on her phone, it wasn’t very late, but waved down the waiter and paid her check. As she left, she gave Jenny a hug and whispered an apology into her ear for her bitchy comment earlier.

“Don’t worry, I understand” Jenny replied with a smile.

(YN)'s uber was outside when she exited the restaurant. She gave the driver the address and rested her head against the cool window.

If she was to be honest with herself, she wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of a relationship, but she was really satisfied with where her life was, especially now that Frank was coming around again. He really was the best sex she had ever had, probably because they had been in each other’s lives for so long.

When she arrived at her destination, she breathed a sigh of relief that the lights in the living room were on and no other cars were around.

“I knew you’d turn up sooner or later, but I didn’t think it would be this soon” Frank said with a smirk when he opened the door.

“Are you gonna chastise me, or are you gonna invite me in?” She asked, rolling her eyes. He stood back and opened the door for her and she came in. The place looked the same as always, kind of cluttered with guitars and horror movie memorabilia all over the place.

“How was your party?”

“It was ok. I like my coworkers at work, much more than that, I’ll pass. They get real catty when they start drinking," she said flopping down on the couch. "I see you have a real exciting evening going on here.”

“Well it’s a good thing you came along to save me from it” he said sitting down next to her, putting his hand on her thigh.

“What can I say, it’s my super power,” she said, turning her body into his, putting her hand on his chest. He leaned in and they started making out. He ran his hand further up her thigh over her tight jeans, the other hand on her back pulling her closer to him. She ran her nails up the back of his neck, raking over his scalp sending goosebumps up and down his body.

He leaned back pulling her onto his lap, and she took the opportunity to pull her top off. He pulled her back down to kiss him, hand roaming over her back, easily undoing her bra and tossing it aside, as she ground her hips into his with an increasing urgency. He sat up and she pulled his shirt off and then raked her nails over his tattooed chest.

Moans and muttered curses filled the room until they both came. She fell forward onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She was surprised at first by the affection of the action, but didn’t care because it did feel nice to be held like that. They stayed like that for a few minutes before she pulled back.

“I guess I should get goin' then” she said reaching down to gather her clothes from the floor.

“Why?” He asked. “I mean, we haven’t hung out in a while, just stay.”

She considered the offer. He had a point, they used to hang out much more. And it wasn’t like she had anything to do that night.

“Ok sure, but I’m still putting on some of my clothes," she retorted.

“You want something to drink?” He asked, getting up after pulling his sweatpants back on and wandering into the kitchen.

“Yea, I’ll take a beer” she said following him into the kitchen in just her bra and panties.

“That’s a good look,” he said, handing her a beer.

“Thanks, I was thinking this bra wasn’t getting enough appreciation for the hard work it does.”

“Well I for one would like to salute it. It truly is doing God’s work.” He replied with a wink.

They went back to the couch and sat on opposite sides while he picked a movie on Netflix. As the movie played, they talked about the party she had been at and some new songs he was working on. As the evening wore on, (YN) could feel herself getting sleepier from her long day. She felt her head getting heavy as she slowly leaned toward Frank.

She woke up the next morning still on the couch, her head was on this chest and his arms were wrapped around her. She didn't move, not sure of how to react to the position she was in.

They had been friends for a long time before that one night when they were at a party and someone suggested Seven Minutes in Heaven. (YN) had been a little worried, but also quite exhilarated when she realized her partner was Frank. They had both been liquored up enough to throw caution to the wind the second the door to the closet shut behind them.

Their lips crashed together, hands in hair and all over each other. The seven minutes passed too quickly, so when the attention of the party was off them and their disheveled state, they snuck off to another room to finish what they had started.

At that point in their lives, (YN) had just gotten out of a shitty relationship and had no interest in getting into anything else serious anytime soon, and Frank was fine with just having fun. She and Frank’s chemistry led them to hooking up a few more times before they officially agreed to do the friends with benefits thing. Over time she warmed back up to the idea of being in a relationship, but she didn’t actively pursue anything because she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be with Frank. She always had felt jealous when he let her know he was seeing someone, but she was terrified of ruining things with him, so she never let on to how she felt.

Now as she woke up with his arms around her like that, it felt quite intimate, bordering on relationship-y behavior. Even if she did decide to risk it all with Frank, now wouldn't be the time as she'd just be a rebound, so in that moment she decided she just needed to back off for a minute and let things even out a little, and get back to normal.

"Hey," he murmured, waking up.

"Hey" she replied, pulling herself up from his arms.

"You want some coffee?" He asked sitting up and shuffling off to the kitchen.

"Yea sure" she said following behind him, sitting on a barstool at the counter as she watched him make the coffee.

"What are you doing today?" She asked. That voice in the back of her head nagged for even asking the question. They weren't a couple, they didn't just hang out every day they were free, why even bring up the topic?

"I'm gonna go down to record a few of those demos I was telling you about last night" he replied, pulling out a couple mugs. "But you wanna hang out later?"

"Nah" She replied, shaking her head. A concerned look crossed his face. He wondered what he had done as he handed her the mug.

"You got something better to do?"

"Frank, I'm gonna be straight with you, I'm not looking to be a rebound, you know that. That’s not what I signed up for.”

"I'm not trying to use you as a rebound! I just thought you’d want to hang out since it’s been a while. I don't want anything to change what’s going on with us," he lied.

It wasn't completely a lie, he didn't want her to be a rebound, but he did want things to change between them, he wanted them to be more. He did want a relationship with (YN), that's why he never put effort into his other relationships, because they never were with her. But he didn't want to drive her away, so he kept being friends with benefits, so at least he could be with her in some way.

She considered what he was telling her, not completely believing him. "Mmk," she replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Can I at least give you a ride back to your place?”

“You're such a gentleman," she smirked. "But I’d appreciate it.”

Over the next few weeks, (YN) and Frank settled back into their usual routine for when they were both single. They would text regularly, stop by each other’s place to hook up at least once a week, and sometimes hang out if a group was getting together.

Once things had normalized between them, she started to stop worrying so much about whether Frank was using her as a rebound. She did notice though that he still was being more physically affectionate than he used to be, putting his arm casually around the back of her chair when they were sitting next to each other, holding her for a little longer after hooking up, she'd wake up sleeping against him. She realized that maybe she was keeping up the affection just as much as he was, but that didn't change the fact that she just didn't think they should be pursuing a relationship.

On a quiet Tuesday in the salon, Jenny and (YN) were the only two working and chatting about life between clients.

"(YN) , don't take this the wrong way, but I have to ask. Are you still just hooking up with your friend?" Jenny asked

"Yea, but it's good, it's fine! It's what we want to do, ya know? Like for a while I was worried that he was catching feelings, and sometimes I get jealous, but we're just having fun and we're good."

"Yea, but have you talked about it recently? Like you said it seemed like he was getting attached."

"We did talk about it, and he said he wasn't trying to rebound and I believe him, and things went back to normal."

"And what about your jealousy?"

"Damn Dr. Phil!" (YN) retorted. She was surprised at the intense line of questioning coming from her friend. She was even more surprised at the knowing smirk that was on Jenny's face. "What?!" She snapped.

"There's nothing wrong with being vulnerable! Let him crack that hard shell you have around you, I'm sure you have a soft, gooey center in there somewhere!"

"He's found my soft center plenty of times, he's very good at that actually." (YN) said with a wink, getting up to prepare her work station for her next client.

"(YN), ew! But just think about it. What honestly could be the worst that would happen?" Jenny called after her.

"I could lose him and everything we have," she muttered under her breath.

(YN) was crammed in a booth with Frank, Mikey, Gerard, Ray and a few others at the afterparty celebrating another sold out show. It had been a long night of partying, but (YN) was having a lot of fun since it had been a long time since she got to hang out with the whole band. She did notice that Frank had kept his arm around her shoulder for most of the night, but she decided to let it slide.

Eventually the group started to get pulled away into different conversations until (YN), Frank and Ray were the only ones left in the booth.

"Ray, that girl over at the bar has been tryna to eye fuck you for a while now. Are you gonna do something about it?" (YN) asked, as she drew their attention to the girl at the bar.

"I see that," he said, taking the last swig of his drink and sliding out of the booth. (YN) and Frank both laughed as he made his way over to her.

"What do you think his chances are?" She asked, taking a drink.

"Eh, probably pretty good, she does seem into him."

(YN) could feel Frank's eyes on her. "What?" She asked, turning to look at him. He reached up to her cheek and pulled her in to kiss him. She didn't protest as he deepened the kiss, but after a moment the voice in her head started screaming 'What are you doing? This isn't how you two act in public!'

"Frank, what are you doing?" She asked, pulling back.

"I don't know anymore, (YN). I... fuck..." he stammered.

She knew where this was going because she had felt it building for a while now. She grabbed her bag and slid out from the booth.

"(YN) , come on, don't leave like this." He said following her out of the bar into the cool night.

"Frank, what are you doing?" She said putting an emphasis on each individual word, as if saying it more clearly would somehow spark clarity in his mind. She looked up at him, his hazel puppy dog eyes filled with fear and frustration. After a long moment, he still hadn't replied so she turned leave when he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

"(YN), I love you, ok? I fucking care about you and I don't give two shits about what we've agreed we're supposed to be, or what we aren't supposed to say. You are the reason none of those other relationships worked out. You're the one I always come back to, over and over again."

"Fucking hell man!" She shouted as she put her hands over her face. Her head was spinning. This was everything she had known deep down all along, it was all she wanted to hear for so long. But now that it was happening, she was panicking.

Frank took her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face, but she pulled her wrists away from him with a jerk, taking a step back and drawing in a deep breath.

"Ok, fine! I'm out of excuses. I've always had feelings for you too. Every time you tell me you have some girl you're seeing it made me so mad, and at first I didn't want anything more with you or anyone, but now I do and now I know you do too, so let's fucking do this Frank. I'm in. I love you too, goddamn it."

"You're mad that you love me?" He asked, laughing.

"Shut up" she said, pushing on his arm. He laughed again and took her face in his hands and placed a kiss on her lips with every ounce of passion he had been holding back for all the years and she wrapped her arms around his neck. When they separated, he took her hand and they went back into the bar to find Ray back at the table alone.

Even though he was dejected from his strikeout, Ray couldn't have been happier to see his plan to play Seven Minutes in Heaven all those years ago had finally paid off.

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction

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aerynwrites · 5 years

Text

Meant To Be - Javier x Reader Soulmate!AU

Author’s Note: Hey all! sorry for the delay in writing! Between midterms, being sick and just my general lack of motivation (gotta love executive dysfuntion am i right? lol), I just did not get anything done...BUT! we’re here now with a soulmate AU/request! I’ve had this request, along with several other, sitting in my in box and i finally got an idea to write a soulmate AU and i figured it would fit well with this request too! So, Anon i hope it’s okay I added a little extra to the request! Thanks for being patient with me and I hope you enjoy!

Request: Can you please do a javier x reader fic where it's not enemies to lovers but sort of like "god you irritate the hell out of me but I think I'm falling in love with you"? - Request by Anon

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of NSFW content (but nothing descriptive), mentions of sexual relations, angst, fluff.

As always thank you to my lovely and absolutely wonderful beta readers @anniebombannie and @amberthefiredemon! y’all are both skinny legends and I love you! 💕

----------

You and Javier had a…complicated relationship to say the least.

You two butted heads like no tomorrow – constantly arguing over the stupidest things or having screaming matches over how to most efficiently complete a mission. It was exhausting, and while you both constantly bickered with one another, you didn’t hate him. You both just irritated the hell out of one another. He would steal your favorite pens or ‘forget’ to tell you important mission details, while you, would tease him about his informants or nag him about his smoking habits. While somewhat annoying to those around you, especially Steve, it had become the norm. Which is why you were still slightly confused as to how you ended up in the man’s bed.

So maybe complicated was a little bit of an understatement.

Soon after you had settled into your usual back and forth banter and bickering, a drunken night out with Steve and Connie had ended up in Javier’s apartment sans clothing. You both had argued the next morning (obviously) but ended up deciding that it wasn’t a completely awful thing. You both were stressed out constantly, frustrated with your seemingly non ceasing chase of Escobar. So, what better way to get it all out? And who better to get it out with, than someone you supposedly felt indifferent towards.

So here you were, in Javier’s apartment for the second time that week, sheet pulled up over your chest as you lay on your side and watched him light up a cigarette. You watch as he brings the lighter to the end of it and flicks the switch. Your eyes immediately fall to the ticking numbers on his wrist: 1:57:23

One day, fifty-seven minutes, and twenty-three seconds.

The time until he finds out who his soulmate is slips away slowly and here he was laying in bed with you. you feel your heart clench at the realization, that he was most likely going to end up with someone other than you. You tried to blink the thought away, did you want him to be with you? As your eyes trail gently over his profile; his mussed hair, adorable nose, and eyes closing gently as he exhales smoke and relaxes into the pillows more. You realized in this moment that you felt more for him than physical attraction. You wanted to wake up like this, the morning light hitting him just right as he cracks his eyes open in the morning as he leans over to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You sighed at the thought, an action that drew Javier’s attention, and he turned his head slightly to look at you.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks casually, taking another drag from his cigarette, his bare chest rising with the action.

You worry your lip between your teeth momentarily before finally sitting up slightly resting your head in your hand so you were level with him, “Have you ever thought about it?” you ask.

He glances at you from the corner of his eyebrows furrowed together as he exhales, smoke filling the air, “Thought about what?”

You gesture to his hand holding the smoldering stick, timer still ticking slowly away, “Your soulmate. I had never seen your timer before,” you observe.

He rolls his eyes, “I try my best not to think about it. It’s a bunch of bullshit anyway.” He says bitterly.

You aren’t surprised. You figured he would say as much considering his usual activities. So, you just let out a low hum before rolling onto your back. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before you brought your own hand from under the covers. You can’t even remember the last time you had looked at your own timer, having been so busy with work and Javier. Your eyes fell to the small changing numbers on your wrist and you felt your brows furrow slightly.

1:50:13

You turned your head slightly to look at Javier once more and search for his timer.

1:50:12

You felt your heart skip a beat. As the realization dawned on you.

Were you and Javier soulmates?

You look away quickly and put your hand back by your side while your other hand clutches the top of the sheet tightly. This could not be happening. This could not be happening! You take in a deep breath to steady your breathing. There has to be another reasonable explanation. You both could just meet your soulmate tomorrow, it has happened before you were sure, with as many people there were in the world.

That had to be it.

But you couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth before you could stop them, “What if we were soulmates?” you ask suddenly, voice breaking the silence.

You saw Javi tense up slightly, before letting out a low chuckle, “Me and you? Soulmates? What a cruel twist of fate that would be,” he says, taking another drag of his cigarette.

You feel your heart constrict in your chest at his words and you sat up, clutching the sheet to your chest, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He turns his head to look at you now, eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion, “You have met us, right? We hate each other, and we sure as hell don’t get along all that well,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes, “We got along just fine half an hour ago when you were slamming me against the kitchen counter,” you argue.

He lets out another humorless chuckle and snuffs out his cigarette in the tray on the bedside table, “This” he gestures between you both, “is the only way we get along. It’s just sex (y/n), you know that,” he huffs.

You did. You did know this yet hearing him say it out loud hurt. It made your chest ache so deep you felt it in your fingertips, and a frown settled itself onto your face.

Javier saw the change in your demeanor, and he knew immediately what it meant. He hadn’t truly meant what he said. In fact, he had also felt himself falling for you over the year you had been in Colombia. Your bickering and arguing was just how he did things, it’s always how he did things, and he thought that if he faked his dislike for you it would become true. Yet here he was about to break your heart in order to save you the pain of being with a broken man like him.

“Did you think it was something more?” he asked accusingly, putting as much venom behind the words as he could muster. He had to make it believable, for himself or you that he didn’t know.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know I thought that maybe-“

“Maybe what?” he cut you off, “That maybe I felt more for you? Maybe I loved you?” he mocked.

You felt an indignant anger start to well up within you along side your heartbreak, “You don’t have to be a dick Javier.”

Before you could process what was happening, he shifted his legs over the bed and quickly pulled on his sweats before tossing you your pants. You caught them haphazardly and looked on in shock and despair as he gathered the rest of your clothes and tossed them on the bed.

“I think you need to leave,” he said lowly.

You quickly pulled on your shirt before standing and tugging your pants up your legs, “So what? Things start to get the least bit confrontational and you kick me out?” you ask, feeling the tears starting to collect in your eyes.

“This isn’t what I signed up for. We agreed that this was a casual thing,” he said sternly. God you needed to leave before his resolve crumbled.

You scoffed, “I can’t help how I feel!” you cry.

Javier shakes his head, before gently ushering you towards the door with a hand on your arm. You shake out of his grasp and distance yourself from him, “No, fuck you Javier!” you yell, shoving his hands away from you.

He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, “This is why you don’t have anyone important in your life anymore!” you wail, tears now streaming down your face, “and no one likes you because you’re a fucking asshole all the damn time!”

Javier can do nothing but look on in complete and utter shock as you continue your tirade.

“You’re a selfish, arrogant, two-faced son of a bitch and you’re going to end up alone forever if you don’t change something!” your words echo through the apartment before a deafening silence overtakes the apartment.

You take in heaving breaths, trying to gain some control over yourself as Javier is still standing stock still looking at you with wide eyes and hands on his hips. You finally shake your head and wipe away the tears, grabbing your keys from the counter and brushing past him.

“And you’ll deserve it.” You whisper finally before opening the door to his apartment leaving, the slamming of the door echoing in the otherwise silent apartment.

Javier ran a hand down his face before walking over and collapsing onto his couch, reaching over and grabbing a cigarette subconsciously. He lights the end of it quickly before taking a deep inhale, resting his head on the back of the couch. His other hand pinches the bridge of his nose briefly before quickly reaching over to swipe the ashtray from the side table.

“Fuck!”

The glass falls loudly onto the floor, ashes scattering across the tile as Javier flops back into the cushions. Arm thrown across his eyes in an attempt to keep the stinging tears at bay. Never once has Javier screwed up so badly. But as he lays there, eyes falling to the small black numbers on his wrist ticking away, he realizes he may have made the biggest mistake of his life.

---

You had not gone into work the next day. Opting to instead wallow in self-pity within the confines of your own bed with a pint of your favorite ice cream. Maybe if you didn’t go to work and didn’t leave your apartment you could somehow outsmart the timer on your wrist. You really didn’t feel like dealing with soulmate stuff today if you could avoid it. So, you had left a voicemail with the ambassador, claiming an unexpected stomach bug, and used one of your sick days. Word had apparently gotten to Steve because around noon Connie had shown up to your door to see what was wrong, and upon realizing that you were, in fact, not sick, you had fallen apart in her arms and spilled everything that had happened.

“God, he’s such an asshole Connie,” you sniffled, shoving another spoonful of ice cream in your mouth, “But I guess I was the stupid one. I knew that’s how it was going to go, and I let myself fall for him anyways.”

Connie shook her head and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly, “No. you can’t help the way you feel, honey” she says sweetly, glancing down at her watch quickly.

You nod at her words and watch quietly as she stands, “I have to get back to the hospital, but I call to check on you later tonight.” She says kindly.

You shake your head and swallow the ice cream in your mouth, “No it’s fine Connie, you go do your job and I’ll just talk to you tomorrow. I’ll be fine.” You give her a reassuring smile.

She returns the smile before grabbing her purse and exiting your apartment, waving at you as she goes. You sigh quietly and slouch back into the couch cushions flicking the TV on a random channel and watching absentmindedly as you will the day to pass by faster so you can hopefully go back to normal tomorrow. But as the day ticked on and the shitty romance soap operas played on the TV, you just felt worse and worse. You couldn’t seem to get Javier out of your mind no matter how hard you tried. It seemed like wherever you looked you saw him in something. Whether it was his t shirt you had found under your bed, the cheesy rom coms on TV, or that damned timer you say anytime you lifted the spoon to your mouth. It all reminded you of him. and the fact that the timer was still ticking down the, now mere minutes, until you meet the supposed love of your life was making the tears return. You set the half-filled tub of ice cream down on the coffee table as the tears continued to stream down your face. As you wiped them away you caught sight of that damn timer and you felt a desperate grief fueled rage fill your heart as you looked at the timer, completely ignoring the fact that it only had a minute left on it. You started to rub furiously at it. As if that would somehow make it and the idea of a soulmate disappear. Soulmates were bullshit. You didn’t want your soulmate. You wanted Javier and he didn’t even want you back. He had pretty much tossed you out like a sack of garbage when he found out your feelings for him. you felt more tears stream down your face as a loud knocking sounded at your door. You stopped your furious ministrations in favor or looking at the ceiling and letting out an exasperated cry. You didn’t want to deal with whoever was at the door. You just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again. But the person on the other side of the door wouldn’t stop knocking and it was eating at your already fried nerves. You groaned and stood abruptly from the couch, marching over to the door. Your timer ticking down the entire way there.