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genesisrose74 · 4 years

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Christmas With the Karasuno Boys (HC’s)!!

Part 2: Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kinoshita, & Narita

Part 1 (Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Nishinoya, Tanaka, & Ennoshita) here!

A/n: Tumblr said my word count was too much so I’m splitting this bad boi up into two parts :p Enjoy!!

*****

Kageyama

This boy has a secret soft side for Christmas istg

He HATES showing it to other people on his team and shit

But holy bejeezus he is mesmerized by the holiday in every way possible

Lights, sweets, snow, just like,,, the general magic of December is the most awe-inspiring thing to him

Since he is still a sporty and pretty active mofo, you decided to fuel that on your holiday-themed date as Kags had noted that he’d never gone sledding before

Your jaw was on the FLOOR when he first told you because he would 10000% enjoy the hell out of it

And so you dragged him out to this popular sledding hill that you frequented as a child and taught him what to do

Not gonna lie, he was kind of nervous

“Well you’re experienced at it. I don’t wanna mess up”

🥺🥺🥺 bubby

“You won’t, Tobio! I can already tell you’re gonna be a sledding pro”

Feels a little better after that, but he asks you to help him out for his first run down the hill

He sits behind you with his arms secured snugly around your waist and his head nestled on top of your shoulder

Which would probably seem really funny to passerby because this boy is tol and intimidating in most other situations

As soon as the sled started down, Kags tightened his grip and made this cute little yelp of surprise

But you were laughing insanely hard at the combination of going really fast downhill whilst also having your boyfriend cling to you for dear life

And then when the sled stopped safely at the bottom he started to chuckle

FULL ON, GENUINE SOUND OF ENJOYMENT

That shit is rare

Y’all stayed at that hill for half the day because it was so fun

You got him a new, very high quality athletic roller for Christmas because his old one was just not cutting it anymore

And you also gave him this really cute bracelet with a volleyball, his jersey number, and a little strawberry milk set of charms attached to it

It matched this really pretty and subtle chain he’d bought for your birthday

His blueberry eyes got all wide with affection dfjdskfjsdk—

Got super blushy and couldn’t get a handle on his speech for a fat minute

He thinks you’re the coolest person ever no I do not take criticism

Geez you’re both adorable together, ideal “stoic boy becomes warmer during the holidays around his love” movie plot and I love it

Hinata

He is all in on Christmas. Not a chance this boy doesn’t get excited as hell

Will openly go into holiday mode as soon as November is over

Was secretly already listening to his Christmas playlist before then

He is one of the sweetest gift givers, that is FACTUAL

If you want something really badly, he will take notice and get it as your present immediately

He’ll also gift you an extra thing that’s handmade 🥺

Like some pastries that his mom helped him make, or a specially made basket of soaps with your favorite scents in it

It’s absolutely adorable and you cherish those ones especially

Is happy if you simply get him something; mans doesn’t care what it is

New practice volleyball? A brand new sweatshirt? Elated either way

You had seen an advertisement for a friendly match between Japan and Poland’s men’s volleyball teams, so you waited online on the ticket sales website until the minute it opened

Spoiler alert: you got some banger seats 😌✨

Shoyo may or may not have tackled you when he read the ticket details, letting out his excited giggle (you know the one)

“I can’t believe you got these, angel! You’re coming with me, right? You’ve gotta! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Gives you sweet little kisses between each individual ‘thank you’

“Of course I’ll go with you, Sho! I’m really glad you like it!”

He will give you the brightest smile of all time — that shit makes Christmas lights pale in comparison

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

RIGHT BACK AT YOU BBY

Hold his hands to warm up together when temperatures drop pls :)))

It’s become a weekly December tradition to watch a Christmas movie with Natsu at the Hinata household

She’ll sit in your lap while the three of you are cuddled under a blanket together, and Shoyo will lace his fingers with yours all discreetly

In conclusion, I am a sucker for holiday Hinata 🥺🥺🥺

Tsukishima

His room is decorated to the very minimum simply because his mom and brother had insisted on him being festive

You know those holiday instrumentals that are really calming and jazzy and stuff? Yeah, that’s the only Christmas music he will tolerate in his house

While he’s still got his usual icy demeanor, this blond bitch does get slightly less snippy with the Karasuno boys

Is always on the nose with getting you the exact thing you wanted for a present

Like,,, TO THE SMALLEST DETAIL

You don’t even have to bring that shit up beforehand, he just KNOWS

“Tsukki, how did you—?”

“It’s pretty obvious, with the way that one ad kept showing up on your phone.”

b r u h

How does he pay such good attention without even letting on??

As for his own present, you’ll usually get him two: one gag gift and one more serious gift

His dino plush collection size is partly due to the former’s contributions this time of year

Yes the dinos have names

You exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve with all the team (you made him go) and he saved your more serious one for last

It was a scarf that you’d gotten custom made, which had a Spotify code knitted into the fabric

Scanning the code opened the app to a playlist you’d created especially for him

He got pretty quiet when figuring it out and scrolling through the playlist

Would let out a certified Tsukki Nose Exhale™ when he came across certain songs

The more subdued reaction was expected because it’s Tsukishima

His little chuckles and warmer eyes were enough of a giveaway to tell you he very much enjoyed your gift

But on the walk home, he took the scarf and wrapped it around you both, and then brought his arm around your waist

“Thank you.”

You deadass almost combusted because it was so unexpected??

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, Kei”

Way to respond calm and collected 😌👍

But on the inside your body was in freak out mode

He wears the scarf all the time jdfsklfjdsk

Yamaguchi

Take the most tooth rotting fluff you could imagine

And then double that and put a fucking cherry on top

That’s the equivalent of what Christmas is like with Yama Yama

Y’all are like kids in a candy store — literally

For your Christmas dates it’s all about sweets and shared giggles, so frequent trips to the candy and baking isles of the grocery store is a must

Making gingerbread houses, peppermint tasting (mostly trying those different and wild ass candy cane flavors), you name it and it’s there

Stomach aches? I don’t know her

Yeah you do but they go away with enough butterfly kisses 🥰

Tadashi is exceptionally good at decorating gingerbread houses for whatever reason

He put a poll on his instagram between yours and his final products and he won by a landslide

It’s not like yours was necessarily bad, more like he’s just an icing master

You also might have eaten too many gumdrops which left your rooftop lacking in ✨spice✨

But it’s okay because Tadashi donated some of his leftovers to you

He’s such a sweetheart uwu

Please for the love of everything get him something heartfelt as his present

You know those long distance bracelets for couples?

Basically if your s/o taps the icon on the bracelet it’ll send a little vibration to the other person’s as a notice that you’re thinking about them

This boy seeks constant reassurance, and you love to give him his deserved love and validation, so it was the perfect present

It takes a second for him to figure out what it is, but after reading the directions and testing it out, the most adorable smile erupted on his face

And then since you already had yours on, he tapped the little icon again with a giggle

“Hey there”

It becomes common habit to tap it at least once every couple hours

GOD HE IS SO CUTE

He is just so soft this time of year, give him all the love and he will return it tenfold ☺️

Kinoshita

This boy is absolutely an awkward cutie and an avid romantic

Give him the cliches and he will eat em up, no doubt

It naturally gets more apparent around the holidays

He’ll take you on pretty winter walks, give you lots of little gifts (while blushing a hell of a lot), and is just a professional at stumbling upon some mistletoe

Wow wonder how it got there, Hisashi

He’s quite a bit more confident when simply alone with you than in a crowded space

And that definitely shows when he takes you out on a secluded sleigh ride around town

Yeah you heard me

A fuckin’ sleigh ride

Horses and blankets and everything

Don’t even ask how he managed to pull it off, because he loves watching the cogs turn in your head and simply will not give you a straight answer

Of course there’s the nice driver guy who’s there, but in the back alone Kinoshita’s confidence goes 📈📈

Lots of flirting, tons of skimmed touches and shared giggles throughout the ride

I legitimately simp really hard for him

Anyways it was a gorgeous ride through town and super fun

On Christmas Eve you both exchange gifts together and tbh whatever you got him will leave him happy and flustered regardless

But when he opens the wrapping paper to find an entire set of vintage VHS tapes, he’s stunned

He owns a VHS (actually canon!) and honestly loves it to death, and the fact that you’d get him tapes of pretty high quality for his collection meant a lot

Gosh he’s so underrated but a definite sweetheart, give him all the holiday love

Narita

Another underrated bby 🥺

He’s so chill and is pretty open to anything during the holidays, so long as he gets to spend ample time with you, his friends, and his family

Definitely more of an indoor person despite being accepting of most situations

Hence why you thought a cute little indoor winter picnic would be right up his alley

Which it absolutely was 😌✨ nice work

You’d made plans while in secret communications with his family members about the whole thing

He’d been pretty stressed lately with trying to handle his schoolwork, while also helping out others with theirs

Despite being a wonderful tutor, it was clearly becoming a bit overwhelming as he tried to grapple with so much at once

So when he came home one day to find a pristine house with you settled on a blanket in his living room, he was quite surprised

There’s a cheese plate, soda cans in a cute ice box, sandwiches, snacks, a presparked fireplace — you and his family went all out

Really adorable I cannot lie

“I thought you said you were going gift shopping today?”

“I might have maybe lied :P”

So he gives the sweetest little smile and sits across from you

Y’all stay there and talk for hours

After finally getting through everything previously laid out on the blanket spread, you slid him a little rectangular box that he looked at curiously

“Already? I haven’t wrapped yours yet!”

“Mine can wait a bit! Just open yours”

And so he does, and you watch with a face-splitting grin as he looks down in awe

You got tickets to see his favorite rock band in concert while they were on tour

He sprung onto you and pulled you into the tightest hug ever

“Holy shit you’re the best I love you so much how do you get even more loveable every day—!?!l”

It’s a jumble of words but you’re able to put it together and it makes you giggle

He deadass sprints upstairs to go get your gift and make sure that you feel as equally appreciated as he does

In simple words: wholesome holiday sweetness 🥰

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part 25) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 25: Y/N and Dean struggle with the aftermath of their split. Working together proves to be difficult, but other relationships within the ranch family took a hit as well. When the cowboy thinks the day can’t get much worse, complications arise, forcing him to make yet another difficult decision. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: (opening scene) The Eye - Brandi Carlile. (Ride with Meadow scene) Home - Hans Zimmer. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Beta’d by my mom (yes, you read that right. My mom reads my stuff and is on Tumblr). Thank you, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @kittenofdoomage, @manawhaat, @waywardbeanie, @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me with this story. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

With frustrated motions, Y/N stuffs her clothes into a bag, not even bothered to sort the items out. Her cheeks are tear-stained once again and she wipes at them angrily. Stop crying, it won’t get you anywhere, she scolds herself, done with feeling this emotional. After all, today is Monday, just another day at the ranch, and they have a lot of work to do. Garth and Ellen did the necessary stable work, but the horses which are usually trained by Jo, Dean, and herself had three days off while their riders were in Flagstaff.

Dean. Just the name reverberating in her head forces her to pause her actions. She dips her chin, closes her eyes, and takes a breath. Why? That’s the question she keeps asking herself. Why did he break up with her? Why did he pretend to care, only to hurt her the way he did? Why has he become so bitter, so selfish, so unlike the man she thought he was?

The questions remain unanswered, and she doesn’t expect they will give her any consolation either. That was the whole issue to begin with, wasn’t it? He can’t be honest. Apparently, he doesn’t think she’s capable of bearing the load he is meant to share with his partner. Apparently, she’s not good enough. Just like she didn’t meet her first boyfriend’s standards, who got tired of her spending more time with her horses than with him. Her second relationship ended in a fiasco as well, this time it was his jealousy of her success that caused the split. Yesterday proved that the third time clearly isn’t a charm. But neither of her previous significant others ever caused a cataclysm as the one Dean has left behind. Her heart is a wasteland now.

“Are you leaving?” She’s pulled away from her thoughts by Jo’s voice, her tone matching the horrified expression on her face. She stands in the doorway, looking down at the open suitcase on the floor and the unzipped bag. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes what the scene must look like. “No. I’m just sorting out my washing,” she says quickly. “Oh…” the blonde cowgirl sighs, relieved. “For a second there I thought--” “I won’t let your scumbag cousin chase me away, Jo,” her friend assures her.

Truth be told, though, she has been thinking about it. Last night she had typed down her information on a booking website, ready to confirm her flight back to Freeport, but as her finger hovered over the ‘confirm’ button, she closed the tab and slammed her laptop closed. The intern came here on a mission. She is going to prove to her parents and to herself that she has what it takes to run her own ranch and that she deserves that business loan. She is not going to abort just because her heart is broken, come hell or high water.

“Well, good. I would have roped you like a cow and tied you to the saddle anyway,” Jo scoffs, leaning against the doorframe.

The cowgirl chuckles as she collects the last of her dirty laundry, zips up the bag, and puts it on the bed. The sight of the not-particularly comfortable mattress has her wishing she could crawl back under the covers and get some much-needed sleep. That’s not an option, however, and so she takes her hat from the corner bedpost and places it on her head. Before she goes out, she quickly checks her makeup in the mirror, but thankfully her tears haven’t smudged her waterproof eyeliner and mascara, and her foundation is still covering the bags under her eyes. It’s been a while since she hid behind the beauty-products, but the confidence Dean gave her has disappeared the second he ended their relationship, so she put her mask back on. There is no way she will give her ex-boyfriend the satisfaction of witnessing just how broken she is.

Y/N inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, lifting her chin as she stares at her reflection. The woman who looks back at her is fierce and resilient; the complete opposite of the little girl that’s hiding inside. Of course, she doesn’t want to face the day nor the man who hurt her, but she is left with no choice. There is so much more at stake here; her future, her career. This is business, and she will treat it as such. Y/N glances at Jo, giving her a nod, and her friend smiles faintly doing the same.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Dean pours himself his third cup of coffee. Saying that he had a rough night, is putting it mildly. The first digit of his alarm clock had already changed into a ‘2’ when he finally drifted off, only to jolt awake an hour and a half later, his bedsheets clinging to his sweat-covered skin. For the first time in years, a nightmare has caused havoc, images of his worst memories coming through cracks in the walls he built around all that childhood trauma. After freshening up, he laid in bed again while last night’s events alternated with those same disturbing scenes he saw in his dreams, the sad motion picture of sorrow and heartbreak projected on the ceiling. He gave up on sleeping around four-thirty in the morning, got dressed, and sat out on the porch until the sun came up. But no matter how hard he focused on the sounds of the night that tried to soothe him, he couldn't get her out of his mind. The pain laced in her desperate voice, the tears that fell because of him. But after those hurtful images, he also remembers that bright smile, her giggles, the sparkle in her eyes when she has achieved something. Her tenderness, her touch… It hasn’t even been twelve hours and he’s already craving Y/N, fighting an addiction for a drug he can never have again. The girl who is no longer his Yankee.

A door squeaks and Dean glances aside, immediately redirecting his gaze back to the coffee mug on the small kitchen counter when Y/N comes into view, followed suit by Jo. Instantly, the tension in the living room shoots through the roof, the crooked, little bunkhouse barely able to maintain the strain. He doesn’t say anything, but thankfully Garth and Benny do exchange a ‘good morning’ with the girls, the silence interrupted by the casual exchange.

He spots her perfectly applied makeup, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail that doesn’t allow a single strand to escape the rubber band. Her shirt is neatly tucked into her jeans, ironed and spotless, just like the day when she arrived at the ranch. Even though she looks breathtaking, the vision saddens him; she’s back to being the woman who needs to have everything under control. He gets it, though, because when she took his advice to loosen up, she let her guard down. If she had kept both hands on the reins, Y/N would have never allowed him to get so close and comfortable. Dean only made things worse for her, and now she was left to pick up the pieces of all that he broke.

Without saying a word, he grabs his coffee and pushes the door handle down to make his exit, not wanting to make her life more difficult than he already has.

Ultimately, this Monday was bound to get worse with every passing minute. Dean decided to get an early start before breakfast and got on the tractor, but when the ranch hand tried to back up in order to drag the arena, he couldn't get the old John Deere into reverse. A glance underneath soon determined why and he exclaimed a loud ‘fuck!’ when he detected the puddle of gearbox-oil on the dusty ground. Turning the fresh horses out only added to his agitation, especially when the youngsters stirred up the palomino stallion Led while the wrangler was hand-walking him. The Quarter is still recovering from the nasty tendon injury he suffered on the job, and isn’t supposed to be bouncing off the concrete like a rubber ball on a leash, but tell that to an energetic horse who has barely been out of his box for the past month. Garth readied a horse for his boss, which he managed to ride before breakfast, but Dean was unfocused and gave up after thirty minutes.

Now, they were all quietly eating their breakfast, the delicious meal giving them some consolation. Ellen observes the awfully silent crew, exchanging a look with her daughter, who with a slow shake of her head tells her mother to not bring it up, and so she doesn’t. The head wrangler is the first to get up from his seat, rinse his plate in the sink, and return to the stables. The others follow his example, the barn soon buzzing with activity.

Y/N works like a dog, mucking out the stable in record time without pausing. It’s a good distraction for her reeling mind, the hard labor ridding her of the frustration that boils her blood whenever she thinks of the man who ruined her faith in true love. Garth, sensing that the intern was fine on her own, took the tough job of raking the arena by hand, since machinery has let them down. Meanwhile, Jo and Dean train the animals as per usual, but there’s no bantering between them during the cool down. In fact, the wrangler’s cousin has decided to ignore him altogether.

Getting more irritated with every second passing, the horseman dismounts the six-year-old gelding named Santana, deciding that a light workout is enough for today. The wrangler is always careful to not let his emotions bleed into his work, but he’s finding it difficult to keep himself in check. Jo has already parked her horse next to the bay Quarter and has tacked down the buckskin without granting Dean a look. He sighs; Jo is not easily going to forgive him for hurting her friend, but he still tries to break the stifling silence.

“Can you pass me the water?” he asks, nodding at the yellow garden hose that’s rolled up by the faucet. Without even granting him a look, the ranch owner’s daughter throws the showerhead in his direction, the nozzle clattering on the tiles in front of Dean’s feet. He sighs, annoyed. “So this is how it’s gonna be?” he scoffs. “I get that you’re mad, but you can at least t--” “I have nothing to say to you,” she snaps.

It’s not the first time Jo is angry with him, because the two have a habit of getting on each other’s nerves. This time it’s different, though, and the bitterness in her tone sends a clear message that he has burned his bridges. Gritting his teeth, he lets the comment slide, deciding that it’s useless to fire back a counter. She has a solid point after all; he doesn’t deserve her sympathy in the slightest. Figuring that these will be the only words they exchange for at least a couple of days, the cowboy begins to hose down Santana, when Jo turns on her heels with her horse’s lead rope in one hand and her fist firmly planted on her waist. “You know what? I do have something to say. You just don’t get to speak in return,” she kicks off, about to unleash her wrath. Dean lifts his gaze from the dirt and sweat that he’s washing out of his horse’s coat, for the first time looking into his cousin’s fiery eyes. The petit cowgirl, who is easily nine inches shorter than the man before her, is intimidating nonetheless. He takes a breath, bracing himself for impact. Here it comes.

“You’re a cold-hearted, spineless, self-absorbed dick, know that? For once in your life, you’ve got something good goin’, someone who was willing to look past your gigantic ego and your daddy issues, yet the first thing you do when life gets tough, is drop her like a hot potato. Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused the poor girl? Because I do! She wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but she cried for hours, hours, and that’s on you! Guess who had to comfort her, huh?” Jo goes off. “I am so far past mad; I am furious! I really thought you had finally found a reason to change into something better than the abbreviated piece of nothing that you are now, but it seems like Y/N wasn’t the only one who was naive.” “You done?” the wrangler says coldly when she pauses to catch her breath. “Go hump a cactus, Dean,” she sneers.

With those words, Jo strides away, the large animal next to her obediently following her, well aware that now is not the time to be stubborn. The man who’s left with the poignant insults still echoing inside his head, pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, staring at his feet for a second before he sniffs and focuses on the task at hand again. He might have pretended that her message left him unbothered, but the opposite is true. Jo could as well slap him across the face; it would hurt less.

Defeated, the wrangler takes Santana to his box and removes the halter from the large animal’s head. The sweet horse seeks contact, nudging her nose against Dean’s shoulder. He rubs the Quarter’s withers before he exits the stable, appreciating the only kindness that he’s received so far this morning.

“Dean?” He tenses, not expecting his name to fall off the lips of the woman who he parted from only yesterday. When the cowboy meets her gaze, the look Y/N gives him is as cold as the tone of her voice. “I need a word,” she says, although it sounds more like a demand. “S - sure,” he stutters, glancing down briefly before he looks back up again, suddenly nervous. He’s not sure if he can handle being scolded by his ex-girlfriend as well. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together anymore,” she states formally. “I’d like a new supervisor.”

Dean cocks his head back slightly, unbalanced by the appeal. He rubs his temple, averting his eyes but then nods, acknowledging that she’s probably right, even though the request is a painful one. “Yeah, uh - sure. I’ll ask Garth,” he stammers, estimating that he would be the obvious choice since she’s so close with Jo. He wouldn’t want their friendship to be tainted by the difference in rank. “Okay,” the intern responds, her expression stark and strained, before she walks past him.

Motionless, the head wrangler remains on his spot, setting his jaw and closing his eyes for a second. Somehow, he didn’t expect their first exchange to be strictly business. Her stance is so different from what he’s grown used to. Even on the night they met when she gave him a hard time, the tension between them didn’t feel as heavy as it does now. He realized when he called it quits that she would struggle with his decision, but Jo’s confirmation that she spent most of last night crying over their separation has him desperate to ease the pain.

“Y/N…” he says softly while turning before she’s too far gone to pick up on his voice. “I have work to do,” she cuts off, shooting him a short glare over her shoulder.

Dean swallows thickly while watching her leave, fast and determined strides taking her as far away from him as possible. Damn it, he really did ruin his chances of even maintaining any sort of a friendship, didn’t he? He’s not sure what else he expected after the way they parted, but despite the loathing and vexed look she just shot him that feels like a bullet to the heart, he’s glad. Let her be angry, let her hate him. It will be easier for her to deal with those emotions, than just the overwhelming sense of sadness. He knows, because he hasn’t felt this devastated, empty, and incomplete since his family fell apart; he’s talking from experience. Wishing the day was over already, the cowboy adjusts his hat and gets back to work, hoping that riding will offer him the therapy he so desperately needs.

Unfortunately, the day doesn’t pass by nearly as fast as Dean would like to. After riding five horses, he, Benny, and Garth use their lunch break to look at the beat-up tractor that once again has let them down. The head wrangler doesn’t mind skipping his midday meal; he would rather avoid sitting across from Y/N in a room overflowing with awkwardness, plus, he’s not hungry anyway.

The machine from 1979 was bound to die on the crew sooner than later, but after the farrier slash mechanic discovers metal particles in the gearbox fluid, it becomes clear that a simple oil change isn’t going to cut it this time. “Yep, she’s toast,” Benny sighs, wiping his dirty hands with a cloth. “Just what we need,” his friend grunts. He’s not looking forward to his uncle’s response to the setback. “I’ll tell Bobby.” “I can if you want me to,” the stable boy - who is also responsible for the machinery - offers. Dean purses his lips slightly, his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans while he stares at the old John Deere absently. “Nah, I’ll do it. I got a question for you, though. Do you mind supervising Y/N from now on?” Garth shakes his head, taking in his boss, somewhat confused. “No, not at all.” “Good,” the wrangler replies quickly, thankful that the slender employee takes on the task without question. The clueless young man didn’t pick up on the relationship between Dean and the intern to begin with, and he would rather keep him in the dark, especially now that it has ended. He knocks on the rusty hood of the tractor before he heads off. “I’ll see y’all in a bit. Can you start rolling out the hay to the pastures with the wheelbarrows? It’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer without this old thing.”

The shade inside the stables is welcoming, and not just because it offers cooler temperatures. Dean’s eyes are still painfully sore from the lack of sleep and he rubs at them again, trying to stop them from burning. Shit, and it’s only Monday, he sighs to himself. The three-day event over the weekend means no time off for the employees who attended. The last time he didn’t have to show up at seven in the morning or earlier was late September, which means that he has been working twelve-hour plus shifts for fourteen days straight now. Work never stops on a ranch. The horses depend on him; they will always need food, a clean stable and exercise, no matter how tired, lovesick, or miserable he is.

The cafeteria is already empty. His aunt is probably at the guesthouses to change the sheets and towels, giving the accommodations a quick once-over. However, he finds a post-it on the long table with his name on it; ‘Don’t forget to eat. Bacon sandwiches are in the fridge - Ellen’. As the cowboy smiles for the first time today, he wonders if Bobby has told his wife anything about John’s unexpected visit in Flagstaff, hoping that he hasn’t. Knowing his aunt, she’s going to sit him down for some sweet tea and a talk, even though previous attempts of having a conversation as such proved to be unsuccessful. He appreciates her concern, though, the idea of his surrogate mom caring about him offering Dean some solace.

The wrangler walks through the high barn doors on the other side, the sun doing its very best to cheer him up, but the rays don’t reach his soul. He makes his way to the Singer’s home, reckoning he will find Bobby there. As per usual, Dean takes off his hat and hangs it on the coat hanger, kicking off his boots before he proceeds to the office in the back of the house. After knocking, he pushes the door ajar, finding his uncle behind his desk. The place is still a mess, but the occupant’s features aren’t draped in shadows like the last time he was here. The blinders are open, the window a passe-partout of the Joshua tree, together with the paddocks and pastures surrounding it.

The rancher looks up when his nephew enters. “Hey, son. How’s the tractor comin’?” “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s fried. The oil is swimming with debris,” Dean tells, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “Metal?” Bobby questions. When the young man across from him nods, he curses. “Balls!”

Dean presses his lips into a firm line, keeping still in the worn chair to prevent it from squeaking. His uncle seemed to be in a good mood after the successful show, but he can tell that this setback has put a strain on the old man’s frame of mind.

“You’re gonna call the service station?” the head wrangler wonders. “No, that’s gonna cost us. We finally managed to make some money, I ain’t planning on spending it on that damned thing.” The rancher adjusts his ball cap before leaning back in his chair. “You boys can give it a go first, open up that gearbox, see what’s broken. I’ll order parts once you figure out what’s wrong with that piece of shit.”

Scribbling something down on a piece of paper, Bobby sighs, but then returns his focus to Dean. “There’s somethin’ else I need to discuss with you.” His right-hand raises his eyebrows slightly, his interest peaked. “What’s that?” “It’s about Cain,” his uncle murmurs. “Apparently MacLeod didn’t tell the entire story.” Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Should I be surprised? I’m not sure what kinda vibes you picked up from that shady dude, but I sure as hell don’t trust him for the life of me.” “I don’t either. That’s why I think we should reconsider that deal.” Bobby rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair, forking his fingers together in his lap. He expected some resistance from Dean, but not such a strong reaction as his nephew fires back.

“What?! Are you serious?” he counters, perplexed. “You’re just gonna wipe it off the table?” “Not ‘just’, but we need to consider our options,” his boss returns. “How many options do we have exactly? Because the way I see it, this arrangement is a pretty damn good one. It’s good money, a steady income with the prospect of a huge bonus, not to mention what doors it might open for the future. This horse might be the break we need,” Dean advocates, remembering Y/N’s words clearly when she summed up all the possibilities that Cain might bring with him. “Look, I know Fergus is a proper dick, but he has a reputation to protect. There’s too much at stake for him, and I don’t believe he will double-cross us. If we deliver, he’s gonna pay good bucks.” “And that’s where we might have a problem; actually delivering,” Bobby returns, taking in his head wrangler. Dean draws his head back, slightly hurt, frowning at his uncle’s words. “You don’t think I can get the job done?” “I’m not sure if anyone can, son,” the owner of the Gold Canyon Ranch states calmly. “The horse doesn’t just have ‘some behavioral issues’, as Fergus put it. He’s unapproachable, unpredictable, aggressive. That stallion is dangerous to everyone in a square mile radius. Jody rang me this morning to warn us.” “Jody?” the cowboy returns, puzzled. He’s aware that the female rancher knows a lot of people in this business, but he didn’t expect the news of the famous stallion’s arrival would spread so fast. “How did she even know that Cain was coming to us?” “Because MacLeod is a client of hers. Cain is currently in her stables.”

Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline, emerald greens staring over the desk at the man on the other side. While gaping at his uncle, questions begin to race through his mind. Jody did business with Fergus? Jody is a good trainer with excellent judgment, so if she claims Cain is untrainable, that says something. Their last conversation in Flagstaff comes to mind, the news about Gabe’s hospitalization shocking him at the time. Could his friend’s injuries be the stallion’s doing?

Bobby watches his trusted worker process the information, rolling his chair a little closer and resting his forearms on the varnished wood, closing his hand over his fist. “I know this complicates things, but I’m gonna leave it up to you. If you think you can handle the stallion, I will trust your judgment. But I don’t want you to risk your neck for the money, Dean. We will find another way.”

The horseman chews on his lip as he ponders, his focus capturing nothing in particular as his eyes flick over the items and documents on the desk. “We’ll have a week to evaluate him. I’ll make the call after that,” he decides. “Mind if I contact Jody to get some insight on what I’m up against?” “Knock yourself out,” Bobby consents. “Just leave the numbers that we agreed to out of it.” “Will do.”

Dean gets up from his seat, pushing the chair closer to the desk before he intends to slip out of the office before he’s stopped by his boss. “One more thing,” the wise man says, looking over his enclosed hands. “What’s going on with you and the intern?”

Caught, the head wrangler freezes, eyes wide with shock and pure horror staring into the hallway. Shit. How the hell is he going to answer that? Is he referring to the dance at the opening night of the horse show or the palpable tension that has surrounded the former couple whenever they were in close range of each other? Dean doesn’t know, but he has the feeling that the continuation of this conversation is going to be anything but pleasant. Composing himself before he turns back to face his uncle.

“Nothin’. What do you mean?” He shrugs as the corners of his mouth draw down, pretending to be careless. “Don’t play dumb, boy. I was born at night, but not last night.” Bobby glares at him knowingly. “Are you messin’ around with her?” “No,” Dean says firmly, the truth in his words hurting him deep down. His uncle lifts his chin, holding the cowboy’s gaze while narrowing his eyes. It’s clear that he’s not buying. “You wanna explain then why you two were like two peas in a pot in Flagstaff, but can’t even look at each other now?”

With his hand still on the door handle, his nephew attempts to keep his act together, but then he sighs. Damn it, he was so close to making it out of this meeting alive. Oh well, what’s one more lecture, right?

“Look, there’s nothing going on, not anymore. I - uh, I got carried away and I shouldn’t have let it,” he admits. “I broke it off. It won’t happen again.” “Is this gonna be a problem?” his boss asks sternly. “If you two can’t work together--” “It isn’t. Garth will supervise her from now on. Just to prevent any issues in the future,” he continues, hoping the fact that they actually discussed how to carry on as colleagues from this point forward will put the concern to rest.

“There better be a future for her here on this ranch. I can’t afford to lose a free worker, especially not one as skilled as she is,” Bobby warns, not convinced. “I’d pray that she won’t pack her bags if I were you, ‘cause I’ll give ya one guess who’s gonna have to work twice as hard and whose ass I’m gonna bust.” “She won’t leave,” his head wrangler guarantees, willing to bet his life on it.

His promise might seem based on a hopeful hunch, but Y/N hasn’t given Dean any indication to question her professionalism. She even approached him in order to change the conditions of her internship, which couldn’t have been easy for her. Their interaction will be minimized and strictly business from now on, something he reckons she will handle much more gracefully than he will, simply because she has a bigger purpose to focus on. This placement is a stepping stone to her dream of owning her own ranch, and that goal hasn’t changed. He knows she won’t leave Gold Canyon.

Bobby observes his nephew, still bothered by the fact that he didn’t listen to him when he specifically told the bachelor not to get involved with the intern. He’s going to save the rant for another time, though, the sight of an already dejected man before him having him hold back. It seems like this is doing a number on young fellow, and considering how they were with each other at the horse show this weekend, he’s not surprised. The two reminded him of his twenties when he first got together with his Ellen. The boy is hurting, more than he lets on. “Alright then. Get goin’, I’ve got bills to pay,” he eventually says, shooing Dean out with a flick of the wrist.

Relieved that his uncle is cutting him some slack, he nods and silently pulls the door shut, putting a barrier between himself and the conversation he has been dreading for weeks. If only he could be able to tell Bobby that he’s with the girl he’s in love with; he would have taken the grumpy rebuke with a grin on his face. If only.

While stepping outside, the cowboy pulls his cellphone from his jeans pocket, looking up Jody Mills’ number in his contacts. He begins to slowly stroll back and forth on the porch in its sheltering shade, the floorboards moaning and cracking under his boots as he waits with his Nokia pressed against his ear. The steady tone beeps twice before his friend picks up. “Hey,” it sounds from the other side of the line. “I was hoping you’d call.” “Yeah, Bobby told me about Cain,” he returns. “Kinda complicates things, don’t it?” “I need to listen to me very carefully,” Jody starts, earnest and worried. “Do not take that horse into your stable.”

The cowboy sighs, glancing over the land while hooking his thumb behind his belt. He figured the female rancher would try to convince him to back off. “It’s good money, Jody, and I’ve handled difficult cases before. Cain deserves a shot. I have to try.” “I get it, but hear me out. If Fergus offered you a deal that seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. I know you’re an excellent trainer, hell, the best that I know. But I’m telling you, we’re not talking about a stallion with some authority issues here. That horse is twisted, has wires crossed. I have never seen such behavior,” she presses. “So many people have tried to straighten him out already. I did some digging, and Fergus’ supposedly ‘million dollar prospect’ has moved in and out nine different stables over the past year. No one has succeeded.”

He ponders, not taking her warning lightly. Jody is an experienced equestrian who has dealt with many tough animals. She even passed some horses on to him when she couldn’t get through to them. The woman is well aware of the limits to her expertise and has always been honest with clients when a horse was too much for her to handle, but never before has she doubted that the wrangler from the Gold Canyon Ranch could do the job.

“When Gabe got hurt, was it…?” Dean wonders, hesitant, not finishing his sentence. “It was Cain.”

He sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. Although he assumed it was the stallion who has put his former colleague into the hospital, it still shocks him. He continues to pace the deck in front of the Singer’s home. “How is he doing?” he wonders. Jody pulls in a deep breath, the message she’s about to deliver clearly a difficult one. “He’s never gonna walk again. Paralyzed from the waist down.”

Dean closes his eyes and swallows thickly. It’s the outcome they all feared, but hearing the confirmation makes his gut churn. Losing one's legs is a nightmare for everyone, but for a rider? He can’t possibly picture it, becoming wheelchair-bound. Honestly, he would rather die than to never be able to get in the saddle again.

“Dean, I know you believe every horse deserves a second chance, but please, let this one go. He is beyond repair. I’m not asking, I’m begging,” she pleads, a tremor in her voice. “If you take on Cain, it’s only a matter of time before you get hurt, or worse.”

The words are backed up by a heavy silence. The two stay quiet for a while, the words sinking in with the wrangler. Flight animals fueled by fear can do either two things; run or attack. If getting away from the supposed threat is impossible, they tend to go for the last. It’s not something the horse will even think about; it’s a survival instinct. When a naturally kind creature takes a turn like that, it becomes a thousand-pound killing machine. If Cain is truly that far gone, it is likely that he is indeed beyond saving. The trainer has to see it for himself, though, and not just because the ranch can use the cash. He realizes that if he doesn’t take on this task, someone else will, someone with less experience. If this stallion is really that lethal, the next novice trainer might make an error of judgment that will be his or her last. At least Dean has the skills. It seems like he is Cain’s last resort, because if he isn’t trainable, he will get the bullet at some point. He wouldn’t be the first horse to be put down because of similar problems.

“Thanks for the warning, Jody,” he responds after a long pause. “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Dean--” “I know. I know what you’re gonna say, but if I don’t do this, who knows what might happen to him. I’ve got a week to decide if we wanna go through with it. That’s the least I can do.” He can hear his friend grunt, frustrated, probably realizing that changing his mind was a long shot to begin with. “Just… be careful, okay?” “I will, promise,” Dean assures. “Talk to you later.”

The cowboy hangs up, staring at his phone for a few more seconds before he puts it away and steps out into the sun, heading back to the stables. The admonition continues to ring in his ears, and he allows the caution to imprint the decisions he needs to make in the upcoming days. After all, warned is forearmed.

Y/N wishes anyone had warned her how painful it is to have her heart broken by the person who made it beat just for him. Maybe she would have been more mindful then, more guarded. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him have it, had she known how careless he would be.

Around 5 o’clock, her new supervisor said it was okay if she wanted to take her own horse for a ride. Normally she trains Meadow either before or after shift, but she got all the work done at record speed, desperate for a distraction, that all her daily tasks were fulfilled two hours before dinner. Maybe Garth detected that she needed some alone-time with her four-legged friend, because he suggested the ride with a sympathetic smile and a kind nudge, sending her towards the Quarter’s box.

After straightening out the saddle pad, the cowgirl tightens the cinch. Meadow, who can be a bit of a grumpy mare when it comes to tacking up, stands still without moving a muscle, allowing her owner to ready her for a ride without pulling a prank like she usually does. Sometimes the cheeky horse will try to fish Y/N’s phone from her back pocket, nibble at her hat or her sleeve, or refuse to take a step aside when requested, but not today. Maybe she can sense that such an action could set her human off.

The horse accepts the bit when the cowgirl offers it to her, after which she pulls the headpiece over Meadow’s black-tipped ears, securing the straps skillfully. She sniffles, wiping her nose and forcing herself to keep her composure a little while longer. In a few minutes, when she’s away from prying eyes, she will allow to let the tears flow again, but not now, not yet.

Y/N unties her horse, places her left foot in the stirrup, and swings her right leg over the back of her bay mare, softly landing in the saddle. Picking up the reins, she steers her horse away from the tack up area, the smooth leather between her fingers giving her a sense of control that she’s missing in her love life.

Instead of leading Meadow towards the arena, the rider guides her towards the gate that leads to the trail. Her horse had an eventful weekend and gave it her all in competition, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her through a full workout. The performance took a lot out of the willing horse who never seizes to bring her best efforts and more. Even though the freestyle only lasted minutes, the athlete peaked with a brilliant execution of the routine, which takes a lot of skill and strength. Then there’s the ambiance of a show, the new environment, all the sensory overload. The combination of all those factors did a number the Quarter, and she deserves a calm and relaxing ride, much like the young woman she’s carrying on her back. Y/N is in no state to train, well aware that the heightened emotions will get the best of her if something might not work out the way she planned, and that’s not something she wants her companion to bear the consequences of. If anything, Meadow has been absolutely wonderful, seeming to understand that her person is sad and needs someone to lean on.

After closing the fence behind them, the girl and her horse follow the path that leads towards the hills. Cacti flank the road ahead towards the Superstition Mountains, which stand tall in the backdrop. The beautiful amber colored volcanic rock formations seem even more vibrant now that the setting sun blesses nature with a warm glow. The vegetation is much greener than it was when they searched for the herd of youngsters in the reservoir. Autumn is here, and within a couple of months, the ridges that reach for the sky will be covered in snow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful sight, at least that’s what Dean told her.

Now that it’s just her and Meadow, Y/N finally allows the suppressed tears to fall. The battle she has been fighting all day is one she knew she would lose eventually, she just wanted to be with her most faithful friend when the levee breaks. She doesn’t even intend to wipe the drops of despair away, knowing that she has to let it out now in order to keep up the facade later. And so the last rays of the day catch the shimmering pathways down her cheeks, similar to how the water cobbled at Willow’s Creek, where she and Dean shared their first kiss. All the memories, those perfect little moments that she thought to cherish forever, they are worth nothing now. It was all just a dream.

Y/N transits into a slow canter, hoping that the wind in her face will chase the sorrow away. She has to feel something completely opposite to the grief that is ripping her apart. She needs to experience freedom and the bond that comes along with this unique partnership between her and Meadow, the simplicity of moving across the desert like men and their horses have been doing so for centuries. No engines, no computers, no engineering. Just two souls of completely different species merging as one.

Resting her free hand on her horse’s neck and gripping the black mane, she pushes her heels into the Quarter’s flanks, aiding her to pick up speed. The bay mare takes over, her rider is no longer in control, but she no longer has to be. Y/N doesn’t need to direct this movie, because she trusts Meadow with her life. If there is any being on the face of the planet that she would follow blindly, it’s her companion. Meadow has never let her down, not once, and her owner knows there will never come a moment when she will. And so she breathes in, welcoming the wind to fill her lungs with newfound courage, brought on by the majestic animal that gallops across the landscape, carrying Y/N on her wings.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-six here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean x reader #Cowboy!Dean AU #Dean Winchester series #Cowboy!Dean series #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural AU #SPN #Supernatural #Supernatural series #SPN series #Dean angst #Dean fluff #RWM chapter 25 #Kate Huntington

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little-igit · 4 years

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Crimson Roses

A/N: This is based on a dream I had. No matter how hard we try some things just won't make sense. Feel free to ask questions about me, the dream, or the book. constructive criticism is always welcome as well as tips and ideas!

Here is a little key you might need before you start!

Y/N - Your name

S/N - Little Sisters Name(If you are an only child make one up!)

H/C - Your Hair Color

Summary: You make a last minute decision to let your sister go alone to a summer camp. After a week of no contact from her you decide to go on a rescue missing and bring your sister home.

Warnings Of The Chapter: Anxiety

Three pale figures: One with green hair, one with blonde, and the last with red and white stand in a darkly lit room talking about something in hushed voices. As if they are afraid that the wind will carry their words somewhere they do not want them to be.

“So she's supposed to be coming, right?” Green curls bounce against each other as a head tilts to the side giving the peppermint haired one a questioning glance, accusing him of a lie he has not yet told.

“Of course you damn nerd!” Spikey blond hair is thrown in front of the green-haired figure and yells.

Emerald eyes roll in their sockets, a sigh soon following, more sassy than angry, “Shut up Kacchan…”

“Stop arguing and don’t worry, she's supposed to arrive at some point this evening.” The one that had kept his silence up until now finally speaks his mind. His voice was smooth and quiet, he doesn’t seem to be a very expressive person.

“Are you absolutely sure? There’s no possible way something could keep her from being here? We need her, you know. If something keeps her from coming we can’t waste time we need her…to live. We might not be able to keep ourselves together if she arrives too late. We would be too hung-” His rant of worries and woes is cut short by someone else.

“Just, shut up already!” Kacchan takes a threatening step towards the greenette with furrowed brows which seems to effectively quiet him.

“What did I just say, Bakugou?” The calmer figure scolded.

“Whatever half and half!” ‘Kacchan’, now known as Bakugou, screamed at him.

The figure with green hair spoke in a monotone voice, “Todoroki, are you positive she's coming?”

“Yes Midoriya, I am as certain as ever,” Todoroki states as if it’s set in stone.

It might as well be with all of the thought and effort they put into this.

---

H/C hairs wisp around under the gust of the cool air coming from the air conditioning system of the airport. A girl looks out upon a sea of small heads, all of them hugging and saying their goodbyes to their mothers and families. That is if they happen to be lucky enough to have them all there. The pace of her heartbeat quickens as she starts to realize she would be the only one her age going to this camp. The feeling of her heartbeat trying to beat out of her chest isn't new to her. She's felt like that a lot lately, not to mention having anxiety doesn't help either.

Tears spring to her eyes and she turns around to cling to her mother in one last goodbye. Something about this summer camp seems wrong, the whole thing gives her the creeps. She can't tell if she's being rational, though she's never liked being in an unfamiliar place for more than a night or two, this is meant to last all summer. Not to mention that this is Japan that she would be going to. It's not like she could just drive home.

She feels tears spring into her eyes, but before she starts to cry in front of the entire plane she pulls away. She holds onto the sleeve of her mother's arm, and with a quivering voice she speaks, “I don't want to go anymore!” An unstable breath trails behind the words that leave her lips. It feels like a weight has been lifted from her with just a simple sentence.

Her mother simply looks at her for a moment, and for that short time, she is afraid of what her mom will say. She's always been quick to call out her daughter when she's being irrational or dumb, even when she isn't. Though, this time, it seems as though she understands the girl. “But you were so excited. Did something happen?” She was questioning her. Of course, she was questioning her but her voice was softer than it usually would be, maybe she sensed how uncomfortable her child was.

Y/N shakes her head, “No. I don't know what it is. I just don't think I should go.”

Her mother is confused, but at least she's trying to understand. “I won't make you go,” She said,” but what about S/N? Won't she be on her own?” The woman’s eyes flicker over to a small girl, barely eleven, with long brown hair sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for the flight. She had already said her goodbyes.

She feels heavy guilt again for leaving her sister alone. “She'll be alright…She's a little social butterfly compared to me. She'll make friends, I'm sure of that. She has her phone, she'll be able to call us if she needs to. If she doesn't I'll be sure to kick her butt when she gets back.” She softly smiles at her last statement. She had always been very passive-aggressive towards her little sister but would claim to fight anyone who would dare be even half as mean as she was to the girl. She cared about her a lot.

Her mom smiles too, giving a nod. Something still doesn't sit right with her when she thinks about the fact that she's letting her sister go alone. Especially when she suckered her way out of things because she has a bad feeling. Her sister is strong though, she has faith that she'll be alright.

She lets out an emotionally frustrated puff of air, some of her immediate distress and anxiety leaving her. At least it does for the moment. At least she wouldn't be the only eighteen-year-old on the trip anymore. She would have been the oldest going by far.

She looks at her mom again, letting go of her sleeve now, “I'm gonna go let S/N know I won't be joining her…” It takes a second of bracing herself before she walks over to her sister, seating herself in the chair next to her. “Hey…”

S/N looks up at her, “Hey??” She was puzzled, that is obvious enough. Probably because Y/N is speaking to her instead of waiting with their mom until the absolute last minute as she does at any social event. “Is there something wrong?”

She shakes her head, “No, not really…I'm not gonna be able to come with you though…I'm not feeling too great about all this.”

For some reason, whatever it is, S/N doesn't seem surprised at all. “Oh…Alright. Is there a particular reason?”

She shakes her head again, there wasn't, at least not that she could figure out.

Their conversation was cut short by the echoing ding from the speakers above them, “Flight number N571A now ready for boarding.”

The two give brief comforting smiles to each other as S/N stands, grabbing her carry on bag, and walks away into the never to be a straight line of other passengers. Her worries remain ever-present in her mind, she tries to ignore them for now burry them away, and be happy for her sister. She is happy for her, just worried.

She must be sitting there for a while watching the line because the next thing she knows, her mom is placing a hand on her shoulder, and motioning for her to get up. Calming circles are rubbed into her back as her mom seems to sense her nerves still. She knows her mom must feel nervous as well, she's never liked crowds at all.

The two wait until they are sure S/N had to have gotten on the plane safely. Her mom's voice, calm, but not comforting as it was before rings out to break the comfortable silence between the two, “Ready to go?”

Y/N nods before standing, sticking close to her mom as she starts to guide her away. The children had been told that they wouldn't need more than a carry on bag, everything that they couldn't fit would be provided for them. She didn't need to worry about needing to retrieve a suitcase thanks to that. Her mom would have made her go if losing her luggage was a part of backing out. As they walk she starts to notice how unnaturally dark the airport seems to be. She writes off though, it's probably just her imagination.

She exits the building right behind her mom thanks to the automatic doors, they hadn't had to go through security twice thank god. That was a relief at least. She covers her eyes from the burning bright sun of early morning as the pair make their way to the parking garage in which they had parked. The only reason Y/N was even awake at this time was due to the early hour of the flight. She could sleep till noon and beyond if given the chance.

The garage was close and luckily they had been on the lowest floor. No one was really up this early. Neither she nor her mom says a word as they hop in the car. It's a silence they're used to. Y/N plugs her white earbuds into her phone, opening Spotify. Not wanting to listen to anything specific she chooses to listen to her liked songs playlist. She knew full well she was going to try and fall asleep during the drive anyways so what she listened to didn't matter as long as it wasn't screaming in her ear.

She reflects a little as she tries to fall asleep. Her mom letting her come home like this isn't normal. She thought she would have to put up a fight. Especially since travel isn't cheap, though, Y/N has a close friend whose mom was able to get them deals on their tickets. Maybe that's why she didn't complain about the cost.

She hums deciding that was enough overthinking for now.

---

The week passes by slowly. Much slower what she ever would have imagined. The bad feelings she had stuffed away about the flight grew. They festered inside of her since the very first day.

Two days passed without contact from her sister. She and her mom sat in the living room eating their dinner. Her dad was at work, he worked nights frequently ever since she was little. Thankfully he gets to choose his schedule.

Y/N scrolls through Tiktok on her phone, checking her messages every few minutes. Her mom is watching some dumb movie on the hallmark channel. She's praying she gets a message from S/N soon. It's been two days of silence since she left. That isn't normal, not for S/N.

Maybe she doesn't get service where she's at but there should be wifi. It doesn't make sense for her to just not answer.

Y/N knows her mom is worried by now too, S/N usually messages her first and she hasn't done that either. She hasn't shown any nerves though.

---

By the third day, Y/N has panicked. She called her friend and asked her to get another deal on tickets. She hadn't seemed too surprised. After she had made sure the tickets were taken care of and that she would have a flight-ready she started to pack. She didn't plan to stay for long so she didn't pack much other than necessities. She stuffed it with anything else that she could.

She was going to bring S/N home with her. That's the plan, she should have made her stay back with her in the first place but she would have felt bad if she did.

One week after the original departure she found herself driving back to the airport. She was alone this time, her mom hadn't been able to take another day off of work and her dad was asleep from his late night. Her phone was connected to the stereo of the car instead of her earbuds, which were tucked away into her carry on bag. She let her liked songs playlist play again, she couldn’t pick and choose now as it would be too risky to do while she's driving. She didn't want to wreck the only car she has, not to mention how angry her parents would be with her.

It takes around an hour for her to get to the airport. She parks at the same garage her mom had parked in one of the upper floors this time. Her flight wasn't as early as it was last time so the bottom-most floors were filled. She disconnected her phone from the car before turning the key and taking it out.

The trunk pops open with the click of a button. She drags the suitcase with her items out of the car, throwing her carry on over her shoulder. She reaches up, pulling the trunk shut. There's a moment of her fumbling around with her keys before she locks the car.

It took an unusually long time to pass security, granted everything was taking unusually long this week. It takes her a good while to find the desk to check in her bags, the process itself was a normal time. She walks and wanders, making sure she knows where her boarding area is beforehand. She was looking through a nearby store when the echoing ding from before rings out again, “Flight N295EV ready to board.”

Next Chapter

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avtrkyoshis · 4 years

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You Burn First (zuko x f!reader) pt. 3

hey guys this chapter took a lot longer than expected. stay tuned for chapter 4 and 5 because they’re gonna get spicy.

ao3 link & a special spotify playlist

masterlist // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 4

Y/n stretched her arms over her head, feeling the tension release from her stiff shoulders. She looked around her room as she shifted into a lunge and continued to stretch. Her new quarters in the palace were much bigger than she was used to. It made sense that she was provided with such luxuries, she was the Fire Lord’s personal bodyguard after all.

The days following her official position change had been busy. Not only had the security around the palace gotten stricter since the attack, but Y/n had been briefed on all of her new responsibilities. She’d been given a much more detailed tour of the palace and was shown some of the more hidden spots of the palace grounds. She was also given Zuko’s weekly schedule, as it was expected of her to attend all meetings and events with him. One glance at the packed timetable was enough to make her exhausted.

Strangely, Y/n was also given books on Fire Nation etiquette and history. On her first night as Zuko’s bodyguard, she’d briefly flipped through them and fought back a groan. She knew the Fire Nation was stuck up with their rules, but she’d never imagined it was this intense. Even under Zuko’s more lenient rule there was so much she needed to be aware of. She’d flopped back onto her ridiculously large bed and let herself drown in her homesickness. Y/n missed Kyoshi Island.

Despite her wanting to rebel and refuse these changes, Y/n never spoke up against it. She didn’t want to disrespect Suki or the Kyoshi Warriors. They had all agreed that she was the best person for this job and who was she to disobey. The Kyoshi Warriors are what Y/n prided herself on the most.

She flattened her body out to begin her push-ups and continue her work out. There was no point in dwelling on how she’d gotten here, she needed to focus on her job. If Y/n remembered correctly, she was meant to attend some meetings with Zuko today. She wasn’t meant to meet up with him for at least another hour, which gave her plenty of time to complete her morning routine.

A knock on her door startled Y/n out of her push-ups. She swore as she lost count of her reps and reached for a towel to wipe the sweat off of her face.

“Come in,” she called.

The door swung open to reveal Zuko, already dressed in his Fire Lord robes. He wore his hair mostly down today, save for the small bun atop his head that held his crown in place. Y/n had noticed that despite wearing it up most days, he preferred to wear his hair this way. She thought it looked better down anyway.

His nose was buried in a stack of papers as he walked towards her, brow furrowed in concentration. Y/n swung her towel over one shoulder and placed her hands on her hips.

“Something in those papers frustrating you?” she asked.

Zuko sighed, “It’s nothing very important, just some reports on how the current harvest is going. I try to devote my attention to every report that comes my way, but I can’t say I find wheat crops that interesting.”

Y/n couldn’t help the grin that slipped through her normally stoic features. She’d noticed that Zuko was a very attentive Fire Lord. He dedicated much of his time to his nation, addressing even the most minor complaint from an average citizen. Y/n respected that about him.

Her musing was interrupted by Zuko looking up from his stack of papers for the first time since entering her room. His eyes widened as he took in Y/n, dressed in her typical exercise clothes of shorts and an athletic top. She knew she was fit, but she was suddenly hyper-aware of her body as Zuko blatantly stared at her abs. All of the Kyoshi Warriors followed similar exercise routines that prepared them for the style of fighting they preferred. Y/n was used to seeing the other Kyoshi Warriors in similar states to the one she was currently in and being seen by them in the same way. However, the stare Zuko was giving her made her ears burn.

“Um. Did you need something from me Fire Lord?” Y/n said.

Her sudden breaking of the silence shocked Zuko back to reality. He jumped, amber eyes darting to her face as a blush began to colour his cheeks. He cleared his throat and seemed very interested in the floor all of a sudden.

“Y-yes actually. I wanted to warn you about some of the meetings we’re meant to attend today.”

“Warn me?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We’re meeting with some high ranking officials in the Fire Nation today. I’m sure you’ve seen it in the books you were given, but the Fire Nation takes etiquette very seriously. Everything down to the order in which you introduce yourself will be important.” Zuko told her.

Y/n clenched her jaw. She had expected to be subjected to the judgement of Fire Nation officials eventually, but she didn’t expect it to be so soon. She exhaled harshly through her nose, suddenly feeling nervous.

Zuko seemed to sense her anxiety.

“Don’t stress over it too much. It’s not too many people and I’ll brief you on what to say while we walk over,” he said. He paused and his expression softened a bit. “Just trust me. You may be my bodyguard but I won’t let any of these stuffy old men push you around.”

He smirked suddenly, the kindness in his eyes shifting to playfulness.

“Besides, anything you do wrong will reflect poorly on me. I can’t have anyone spreading rumours about the Fire Lord’s disrespectful bodyguard.”

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. If she’d done that in front of anyone else, she knew they would’ve been in shock. Blatantly disrespecting the Fire Lord must be pretty high up on the list of things she wasn’t supposed to do as his bodyguard. Despite that, Zuko seemed to let her snarky comments slide.

“I’ll meet you in front of your room in an hour. Give me time to become… less sweaty,” Y/n told him.

This seemed to remind Zuko of her current state and a blush dusted his cheeks again.

“Of course,” he muttered. He shuffled back towards her door and slipped out.

Y/n shook her head.

An hour later, they were walking together towards the throne room for the meeting. Zuko seemed to refuse to refer to it as a war room, so she figured it was best to follow suit. He was listing off the proper order that she should greet the officials they were meeting, how deep she should bow for each, their titles, and so many other details. Y/n was thankful for her experience in memorizing fighting forms and names. Otherwise, she would be completely lost.

“And don’t maintain eye contact for too long. They might think that’s rude. But don’t be too brief, that could come off as rude as well. You definitely need to make eye contact with each of them though, I can’t have them thinking I’m playing favourites,” Zuko told her.

“Is there anything I can do that won’t offend them?”

“Most likely not.”

“Fantastic.”

“It won’t be that bad,” he said, “Try to just follow my lead.”

Y/n swallowed a groan. They had reached the throne room too fast for her liking. Zuko turned to her, looking like he was about to give her a final pep talk. Instead, his face turned sombre.

“Trust me. I won’t let anything bad happen. I’ve had my experience with disrespecting arrogant old men and it’s not something I would wish on anyone.”

Y/n furrowed her brow. She wasn’t sure what he was referring to, she hadn’t been told of anything happening with Zuko’s recent meetings. Unconsciously, she looked at Zuko’s scar. A heavy feeling in her stomach told her that it was related to what he was saying.

Eyes shifting towards the door, he continued, “Anyway, let’s head in. I’m sure you want to get this over with as much as I do.”

Without waiting for her response, Zuko pushed the doors open and headed inside. Y/n followed close behind him.

The throne room was as she remembered it being the last time she was in there. There were the new additions of a long table leading to the Fire Lord’s throne, as well as three older men sitting at it. They were dressed in deep red robes, indicating their high status within the Fire Nation. Y/n knew they weren’t military officials like she had initially expected, but simply members of the Fire Nation nobility that resided within the capitol. She could tell by the way they held themselves that they were aware of their importance. From what Zuko had told her, these particular men had been a nuisance for him. They had been resistant towards Zuko’s efforts to change the way the Fire Nation viewed themselves and the rest of the world.

Zuko sat down at the head of the table. Y/n was not sure whether to simply stand by him until Zuko indicated for her to sit beside him.

From the looks on the Fire Nation nobles, they were not pleased. Probably by her presence. Y/n awkwardly shifted in her chair, not even sure what to do while the men began to converse.

“We need more military presence in our colonies,” one of the men started. “The Earth Kingdom citizens need to be reminded of where they live. Since the end of the war they’ve started to forget who’s in charge.”

Y/n’s face flushed with anger. All she could hear coming out of his was pure nonsense. How could these old men know what was right for the Earth Kingdom? After all, they were directly responsible for all the conflict and war, she thought to herself.

Y/n nails dug deeper into the palm of her hand. It took everything in her to refrain from going up to them and punching them. She almost did. Until she felt a hand lightly graze her arm under the table. She looked up only to see it was Zuko touching her. He gave her a sympathetic look. As if to say he understood.

Y/n’s feelings for the Fire Lord were always quite complicated. On the one hand, his father and people were directly responsible for so many heinous crimes. Yet he was almost different. He cared.

Zuko cleared his throat, silencing the room. Immediately everyone, including Y/n, could not help but stare directly.

“No. That is the exact opposite of what we must do. For so long our military presence has harmed so many. We stand for so much more now. The colonies represent a new future for both Nations, we exist in balance with the Earth Kingdom citizens. The Fire Nation is no longer in charge of the colonies and we have no right to threaten the people living there. ”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile to herself. The old men looked shocked at Zuko’s answer. Zuko stared them down, eyes daring them to challenge him. The one who had initially spoken bowed his head towards Zuko.

“Fire Lord, I strongly suggest you reconsider. Although the war is over, the world needs to remember the power the Fire Nation holds.”

Her proximity to Zuko allowed for Y/n to feel how the air around him quickly heated at the noble’s response. She knew how it was common for fire benders to accidentally trigger their bending when experiencing intense emotion. The noble’s seemingly polite answer had been loaded with a complete disregard of Zuko’s vision for the future, a fact which had clearly angered him.

“I will be doing no such thing. You have shown a complete ignorance towards my vision for the future of the Fire Nation and the harm that we caused during the war. The Earth Kingdom citizens are good people deserving of respect, treating them as such will not taint their view of the Fire Nation. The only presence we should have in the other nations is one of peace.”

With Zuko’s statement they left.

“I appreciate what you did in there. But you didn’t have to hold me back. I can handle myself,” she stammered.

“I know you can,” he looked at her with those eyes, “I just don’t know if they can.”

The two of them stood alone together. The heat from Zuko’s anger during the meeting lingered on her skin. They stayed there, looking at each other, until their conversation was interrupted by the best sort of interruption.

Ty Lee ran up to Y/n and engulfed her in a hug. For a second she could not breathe, but the best sort of hugs are the ones that squeeze the life out of you. The two girls had met in boiling rock where they quickly became friends. But if Ty Lee liked her, that had to say something about her character.

It took a moment for Y/n to notice the person that had been with Ty Lee. Azula stared at them intently. Y/n didn’t understand why. They were just standing together after all.

“Looks like my ugly brother finally found someone special.”

Ty Lee playfully nudged Azula’s arm and said, “Azula you know Y/n is just his bodyguard.”

“The same way you’re just my bodyguard too,” she smirked at Ty Lee.

Y/n felt like she had intruded on something she shouldn’t have. By the look on Zuko’s face, he felt the same. But Zuko always looked uncomfortable, it was part of his charm.

“Have you packed for Ember Island Y/n?” Ty Lee said, trying to shift the conversation in a different direction.

“Ember Island?”

“Didn’t Zuko tell you? Suki thought it was best we all go for a bit until the whole assassin situation calms down. Well, really it was supposed to just be Zuko. But we could all use a little vacation,” Ty Lee said.

First Y/n had to become the Fire Lord’s personal bodyguard and now she was going on vacation with him and his friends? Things could not get any crazier. What she didn’t understand was why Zuko didn’t bring it up? It just made no sense for him to keep it from her. Her confusion must’ve shown on her face, as Azula’s smirk got more mischievous.

“Looks like there’s some trouble in paradise. You guys really need to work on your communication skills as a couple.”

“Azula!” Ty Lee nudged her harder.

“Make sure you pack plenty of sunscreen for Zuzu. He tends to burn easily,” Azula said.

“Azula!”

“What! Oh. Wow look at the time Ty Lee. We really should be going.”

masterlist // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 4

tag list

@duh-dobrik @inthebisonsmouth @thaliawhitex @brbtryagainlater @paenitetmi

@firelordtea @awkwardnesshabitat

#my writing #you burn first #Zuko x reader #zuko x oc #zuko #atla #avatar #zuko x female reader #azula #ty lee #avatar fanfiction

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lauwrite1225 · 4 years

Text

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria’s life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : Happy F- SIHTRIC SUNDAY!! I'm so sorry for the time it took to publish, but I had a lot of classes and the person that proofread my chapters usually was very busy, so i have to thanks @osferth for proofreading this week💕💕 Anyway! There it is! Thank you so much for all your comments and likes and so sorry again for being late D: 💕

Warnings : mention of deaths

Chapter 7 : Je suis le roi, le roi des cons

“Are ya sure it’s here?”

“Yes I am. I saw the name of this supermarket and there’s no one else around.”

Finan sighs annoyingly, leaning back in the driver’s seat, his fingers drumming impatiently on the gear level. They have been waiting in the back parking of the Carrefour for three hours now, looking for the woman they are suspecting knows Osferth. They arrived in France two days ago, and Victoria couldn’t help the surprised look she gave to Finan when she realised how good he was speaking french.

“French women find the accent sexy when I speak french and others find speaking french hot.” He explained after they asked their way to a woman who gave him a gracious smile after.

“Oh, a real benefit then.” She commented, pretending to be impressed, even if she might be part of the other women.

Finan grinned broadly. “Indeed.”

Another thing that this time didn’t make her laugh, was Finan’s skills when it comes to stealing a car. She never felt more nervous than when he asked her to check if no one was coming while he was trying to start the car.

“Maybe she doesn’t work today.” He mumbles under his breath but Vicky ignores him when she spots a woman coming out of the back door.

“Oh Christ, I think it’s her.” She exclaims, taping Finan’s arm to have him look.

The woman walks away from the door, looking at her phone while searching something in her bag. “Alright, I'm goin', stay in the car.” He says, opening the door as Vicky rolls her eyes, tired of always having to wait in the car.

“Bonne chance!” She tells him with her best french accent, looking forward to how he'll convince the woman to tell them where Osferth is. (Good luck!)

Finan rolls his eyes and closes the door. She immediately opens the window to try to hear something, even if she doubts being able to understand half of the conversation, but at least their tones would give her a clue on how well it's going.

“Excusez-moi de vous déranger!” He calls the woman and she immediately looks up to him with furrowed eyebrows. (Sorry to bother you!)

Victoria leans forward, trying to see the woman's expression as Finan and her talk. She seems on her guard, looking around and her hand playing with her car's keys. She shakes her head and starts to walk away but Finan catches her back, grabbing her arm. Doubting he will succeed with how reluctant the woman is, she opens the car and joins them, taking her sketchbook with her. When he notices her approaching, the Irishman lets go of her arm while she studies Victoria with the same distrust that she has for Finan.

“She says she doesn't know him.” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don't know who the hell you are talking about.” She confirms with a light French accent, though she keeps staring at Vicky awkwardly.

Victoria opens her sketchbook to a page where she drew Osferth and her on the next one. She gives her the work and her eyes widen. “You must know him, because he does know you.” She says in a soft but nonetheless determined tone.

The woman hesitates, looking between the two strangers and then back to the drawing. “How did you do that?” She asks Vicky.

“I've been dreaming of him, just like he probably does dream of me, right?” She tilts her head and at how the woman bites her lip, she knows she's right. Through her dreams she has learned that Osferth and she are close and that he told her his secret. Finan keeps thinking it was risky to trust the woman, but Vicky is confident.

“Are you like him?” She asks carefully, Vicky and Finan nodding immediately. “What do you want from him?”

Vicky glances at Finan for some sort of approval before answering. “He may be in danger, we need to talk to him.”

She runs her hand through her hair before giving back her sketchbook to Vicky, her expression conflicted between mistrust and worry. But she eventually sighs and accepts. “Alright, follow my car.”

Victoria huffs in relief while Finan mutters something in Gaelic. She stretches out her hand toward the woman with a kind smile. “I'm Victoria, and this is Finan.”

“Sophie.” She replies before they separate to join their respective cars.

Vicky can't help but smile widely once they are on the road, excited by the idea of meeting others like her. She dares to hope that this time, no one will die as when she met Finan. The thought amuses her and she turns to him to remind him of it, but she changes her mind when she notices how tensed his jaw is, his thumb tapping the steering wheel frantically. He is nervous again, like he has been since they arrived in France. He hasn't seen his friends for centuries and she supposes that he fears their rejection. Though she hopes that her presence could ease possible tensions.

When they stop at a red light, Victoria reaches for his forearm, her palm grazing over it until her thumb can rub the back of his hand. He turns his head to her and she didn't expect his intense dark gaze to leave her breathless. However she doesn't look away and gives him the most reassuring smile she is able to make, her fingers squeezing his wrist.

“It's going to be alright.”

His features seem to ease at her words and he let go of his grip on the steering wheel to shift his hand and grab hers, but before he can, the light is green again and a car behind urges them to move. Victoria removes her hand, looking away as she becomes aware of the heat in her cheeks.

They don't talk for the rest of the way. They quickly are driving through the countryside, still following Sophie close, and Vicky finds that it isn’t so different from England. After twenty minutes, she takes a small dirt road that makes the car tremble. They enter a thick pine forest and she has to hold the handle above the window’s door while the car struggles in the mud. But finally they reach a small clearing, an old stoned house standing in the middle of it. Sophie stops her car while a man, alarmed by the engine noises walks out of the house. The french joins the blond man and exchanges a few words that confuse him. Victoria gets out of the car and who she now recognizes perfectly as Osferth looks at her with wide eyes, but it's nothing compared to how his mouth drops when the driver door slams and he stares at Finan appearing behind her.

“Finan?” Osferth calls him, disbelieving.

The Irish warrior stops a few steps in front of Vicky, a tight and shy smile on his face, his eyes not daring to meet his friend's one. “Hi Baby Monk.” He greets him, waving his hand.

Osferth huffs a laugh before crossing the gap between them until he takes him in a strong embrace, letting Finan frozen by surprise for a second. He wraps his arms around his friend's shoulders, holding him tightly and Vicky can't help the way her heart melts at the scene.

“You are alive.” Osferth breathes, his hands holding Finan.

Finan chuckles. “I can hardly die, Osferth.”

The blond man opens his mouth, but finally gives him an awkward smile. Then, he turns to Victoria, studying her intently with his clear eyes. “How did you find me?”

Finan glances at Vicky, giving her a grin before looking back at his friend. “Through Victoria's dreams. She is just like us.”

Osferth makes another huff and softly smiles at her, which she gives another huff. “I thought it wasn't real.” He blinks a few times before motioning and designating the house. “Come, come inside.”

Osferth leads them inside, and Vicky can't help but whisper 'I told you' to Finan before they pass the front door. He rolls his eyes, but keeps smiling, so she squeezes his arm gently before taking place at the table Osferth points at. Sophie brings them glasses of water and finally sits next to Osferth, quite close in Vicky's opinion.

The former monk, if she believes what Finan told her about him, leans forward, his hands joined upon the table. “So, how did you two meet?”

Vicky puts down her glass. “Well, Finan followed his dreams, just like we did for you. One day he knocked at my door and killed himself in my flat.”

She can feel Finan offended glare at how she foretold their meeting. “That's a really short summary.” He comments, pointing a finger at her but speaking at their hosts' attention.

Vicky waves her hand. “The most important lines.”

Osferth and Sophie only nod slowly, the story sounding really strange in just a few words. Though, the blond shakes his head and turns to Vicky with a hint of curiosity making him narrow his eyes. “But how long have you been immortal? We've traveled all around the world and we have never found someone else.”

Vicky hesitates, so much happened in so little time to her that she isn't sure anymore. “Hum… About two months.”

“Oh… So you died in the car accident?” Osferth raises his eyebrows until she nods in agreement. “And, why are you here?” He asks, this time looking at both of them alternately.

Vicky glances at Finan, his smile now gone, and clear her throat. “Maybe you've seen it, but we've been attacked.”

“We don't know who they are but they were searchin' for Victoria, and they knew that she is immortal even if she talked about it to no one.” Finan explains, his hand moving with the glass still in it.

Sophie gives a sort of gasp and she grabs Osferth's hand. “You think they could search for us too?” The monk frowns.

Finan shakes his head and presses his index on the table. “I don't know, but if they've found her, they can find y'all too. You need to warn Uhtred and Sihtric, to tell them to be careful.”

“I can't warn them.” Osferth answers after a heart beat.

This time, it's Finan who frowns, letting go of the glass. “What?” He leans forward after a blink. “No, you must know where they-”

“I can't warn them, Finan.” He cuts across him. “Because Sihtric is gone and Uhtred… Uhtred is dead.”

The sudden silence is thick as Victoria falls breathless at Osferth's words. She can't believe what he said and she has to keep herself from asking him to repeat it. But the monk's tight expression, his jaw twitching and lips pinching, is enough to prove her that she heard him well.

“What? How's that possible?” Finan asks, confused.

“We don't know, but it did happen.” Osferth answers, looking down.

“When?”

He opens his mouth, searching words and Sophie holds his hand tighter but still tenderly. “It was during the Second World War. We were going to save prisoners from German soldiers. We were just the three of us, but Uhtred was determined and sure it would go as we planned. But it was a trap, there were no prisoners. So we ran away, they were shooting at us and we got separated. It took me two hours to find Sihtric. We searched for Uhtred and when we found him, he still hadn't come back.”

He makes a pause, taking a deep breath while tears roll down his cheeks, a reflection of those on Finan's face. But when Osferth struggles to speak through the deep sadness that his friend's loss provoked, Finan on the other hand still can't believe it, eyes wide and not even staring at the monk anymore. As Vicky blinks, she realises her eyes are wet too, of shock and compassion for her friend.

Osferth swallows before continuing his story. “We waited so long, under the rain, utterly wet and freezing like hell. But he never came back.” He wipes his tears with his sleeve.

“Sihtric?” Finan asks under his breath.

The monk sniffs and sighs regretfully. “We tried to stay together, but he was more and more distant. One day he just… He just left without a word.”

Finan nods but Victoria doubts he has accepted the information. He stands up, his hand flat on the table and his face dark, the chair squeaking as he does so. He is about to say something, the three others staring at him, but he just closes his mouth and leaves the house.

“I'm so sorry.” Vicky stammers, torn apart between Finan's pain that affects her more than she expected and the shock of the revelation. She rises from her chair as well, her hand waving toward the door. “I should go with him, see if he's fine.”

Sophie walks around the table and rubs her arm in a kind attempt. “Sure, go.”

When she is outside, Victoria perceives Finan crouched, gripping his hair fiercely, his back to her. She steps carefully toward him but he doesn't react until she runs her hand between his shoulder blades.

“I'm such an idiot.” He whispers barely audibly before he stands up, towering one head over Victoria of one head. She bites her lip at how much hatred is burning in his eyes, but the anger is only towards himself. “I'm a fuckin' idiot!” He shouts, gripping his shirt over his chest. “If I wasn't so stubborn. If I had searched for them before, maybe it wouldn't have happened, maybe I could have helped, maybe-”

“Finan that's enough.” She orders him, clasping her palms over his cheeks to force him to look at her. “Rewriting the past is useless, it will change nothing.”

“They were my brothers and I abandoned them.” He mutters guiltily.

She brushes back the hair falling over his forehead, resting her hand then on the back of his neck. “You're not responsible for what happened.”

He lets out some sort of strangled sob before leaning down, seeking the comfort of her embrace and she doesn't reject him. For the second time in a few days, she lets him cry on her shoulder, holding him tight. Her heart squeezes, thinking about the new wound Uhtred's loss is creating in the middle of the Irishman's heart already full of scars. He spoke to her of his friend and his adventures with so much pride and joy, describing the strong bond between them. She can only imagine the pain through the one she would feel if she learned Rebecca's death.

When he has calmed down, after long minutes, she stays with him while he smokes a cigarette, sitting on the floor, back against the car. “It doesn't make sense.” He mutters, smoke escaping his mouth.

Vicky glances at him. “Maybe we are just an anomaly?” She says, not really having thought about it before asking. “And our death has just been programmed in the wrong time.”

Finan huffs, closing his red and swollen eyes before raising his face to the now darkening sky. “That's crazy.”

“As if something hasn't been so far.” She shrugs before resting her head against his shoulder, closing her eyelids as well and remaining focused on Finan's slow breath.

“Thank ya.” He whispers, barely audible as the words mixed with his exhale.

“For what?”

“Bein' here.”

Tag : @for-bebbanburg @osferth @maggiescarborough @finansarms @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby @solinarimoon

#the old guard #the last kingdom #finan #finan the agile #tlk #fanfiction #finanxoc #somebody to die for

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Folds in Paper (Chapter 8: In the Nick of Time)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Chapter Summary:

The TPI let’s Nick go... just in time.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Pat looked up as Janus stepped into the interrogation room. “Hi,” he said with an innocent smile that could cut steal.

Janus didn’t say a word as he took a seat; he just watched him intently. He leaned slightly over the table and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “So, your name is Nick this time?” Janus asked.

“Nicholas Jonas,” he said. “Always has been.”

“Stop it,” Janus said.

“Stop what?”

“Cut the crap. I know.”

Pat leaned forward, mirroring Janus as he leaned closer, interlocking his fingers and laying his chin on top of his knuckles. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked, pleasantly.

“Janus,” Janus replied.

“No, I’m Jonas,” he said, pointing to his chest.

“Not Jonas,” Janus spat. “Janus.”

“Um,” Pat said, eyes alight with amusement. The bastard. “Those are the same words.”

“No, they’re not. It’s Janus. J-A-N-U-S.”

“Well, that’s confusing,” Pat said with a frown, but his nose was crinkling. “It’s close to my name. You should go by a nickname instead.”

“What?” Janus said. “No.”

Pat hummed. “How about Love Bug?”

“What! No!” Janus sputtered, almost flipping the table, as Pat winked at him.

“BB Good?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“Mandy.”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, how about Macy Misa.”

Janus stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. What was I even talking about?”

“Hmm. I Believe we were talking about my name and how you think it’s not my name.”

“Right,” Janus said. “So, Nick. That was your roommate, Kevin on the phone, right? He seemed a bit unhappy with you. Any reason?”

“Nah, we’re Cool” said Pat. “That’s Just the Way We Roll.”

“Not because you’re messing up a mission right now?”

Pat’s eyes crinkled together. “A mission?” he parroted. “I’m not messing up a mission.”

“Oh, really?” Janus growled. “Because you’ve been captured by the TPI, and I know who you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“I have no idea what the TPI is,” he claimed.

“Yes, you do!” Janus said, standing up. “You obviously do! Or you wouldn’t be playing this game!”

“Game?” Pat asked. “Macy, I ask you what you’re talking about.”

“This is all just a game to you isn’t it!” Janus said, slamming his hands down on the table in front of them.

“Whoa,” Pat said, putting his hands up. “Calm down. Your face is getting all red. You must be Burnin’ Up.”

“I’m not sure what, but something about what you just said pisses me off.”

“And that is five minutes,” Khalid said, bursting into the room. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and glared back at Remus who was putting his own body between Janus and Pat.

“There was no way that was five minutes,” Janus growled.

“It was five minutes,” Khalid gritted out. “Clockson, get him out of here.”

“Come on Jay,” Remus said, dragging him back towards the door.

“Remus, I swear to god,” Janus said after the door closed behind them.

“Just chill, Janus,” Remus said.

Janus shrugged him off. “You chill!” he snapped. “He’s playing you all for the fool.”

“Wow, Macy,” Remy drawled like an asshole. “I’ve never seen you so fired up.”

“Oh, my gosh. No one is going to believe me, and he’s going to get away with this.”

“You’re not really helping your case, babe,” Remy said.

Remus grabbed him by the shoulders again. “Here, let’s go get some water.”

“I don’t want water,” he said even as he let Remus lead him to another room to get a glass of water.

“Look,” Remus said. “I know the Mask Guy thing really sucked, but you have to look at the facts.

“I am looking at the facts,” Janus insisted, “and the facts are, he’s fucking with me.”

“You don’t know what Mask Guy looks like,” Remus said. “You didn’t see Nick take the time bomb, he has an ID from this time period and a roommate in this time he called on the phone, and he legitimately seems to not know what any of us are talking about.”

“Did you even listen to our conversation?” Janus asked. “He was screwing with me the entire time!”

“Janus…” Remus said.

“What?” Janus said, narrowing his eyes at Remus’s tone.

“I know you recently had a bad experience, but not everyone who flirts with you is doing it out of evil.”

Janus’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “That’s what you got out of our conversation?”

“He called you Love Bug.”

Janus felt his face heat a bit at the reminder. “That’s not… I. I’m stealing your cat and then never speaking to you again.”

Remus laughed. “Ah,” he said. “Young lust.”

Janus elbowed him roughly in the side. “No!”

“Yes!” he crooned, pleased.

“You are the worst partner,” Janus hissed. “When I’m right you owe me 10 loafs of your fresh bread.”

“Branching out from poptarts?” Remus asked.

Janus shook his head. He still wasn’t happy about the state of things, but he could feel himself cooling down a bit.

Khalid came out of the interrogation room after a few minutes, leaving Pat with Remy. “What was that?” she asked him.

“He got under my skin,” Janus said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “For now, we’re letting him go and then going back to looking for the bomb like we’re meant to be.”

“Fine,” Janus relented. “Just do me the favor of tagging him before he leaves. Just that. I beg of you.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “If it will calm you down.”

He nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” she said. When they met back up with Remy and Pat, he saw Khalid make the subtle gesture that would tag Pat like they would have for the Millennium Birds. Pat sent him what could pass as a sweet smile if Janus didn’t know better. Then, they walked him outside, leaving Remy on clean-up duty for the make-shift security office.

“So, I’m free to go?” Pat asked. His bemused expression edged far too much on the side of amused verses confused for Janus’s taste.

“You are,” Khalid said. “Have fun at the festivities.”

His hands went flapping about. “Oh, you too!” he said. “Well, I guess you’re working, but you can have fun anyways, I’m sure.”

“We’ll do our best,” she said.

He gave her a blinding smile and reached forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Janus rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. “It was nice to meet you!” he said, “and you too, Agent Clockson!” He turned to meet Janus’s eyes. “Macy Misa.”

Janus pressed his lips together.

Then, Pat turned and walked away.

“Well, now that we’re done with that,” Khalid said, turning to them. “We have only a few more hours before midnight and we really need to find the time bomb.

“Oh,” Pat called. He’d paused a few yards away and turned back to them. “Thanks for letting me go so easily by the way,” he said, “and just in the Nick,” he winked, “of time too.” Janus narrowed his eyes at him. He smiled back. “Wrist check,” he said holding up his arm to show off the timepiece there. Khalid immediately looked down at her own wrist just to see that the one timepiece that could move through the time lock was no longer there. Pat made a gesture and disappeared.

All three of them stared at the spot he’d been for a long moment.

Janus was the one to speak first. “I want. The yellow. To be erased. From my record.”

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 9

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #moceit #folds in time universe #folds in paper #adriana writes #not pieces fic #logan sanders #analogical #virgil sanders #time travel #bomb mentioned #roman sanders #creativitwins

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cake-writes · 5 years

Text

Compromise (Part Five)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Bucky, Ex-Relationship, Co-Parenting Drama, Angst, Fluff, Separation Anxiety

Summary: You didn’t want to trust him again, because every time you did, Bucky broke your heart just a little more. Deep down, though, you wanted to get along with him. You wanted to be amicable. You wanted your daughter to know her father. You’d always wanted that. It just required a compromise.

Part Four / Master List / Spotify Playlist

The next hour or so went by in a blink.

Bucky finished up the dishes while you and Winnie watched another episode of her show. Now that you actually had a chance to sit down and watch it with her, you understood why she liked it so much. The main character was a queen, and a little female empowerment went a long, long way at her age.

And, well, at any age, really.

Still, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Bucky every now and then after he joined the two of you on the sofa. Some small part of you liked knowing that he was there. It was stupid, sure, but harmless – as long as Winnie didn’t see, and she was far too absorbed in her show to notice an earthquake, even, let alone something so subtle.

Her father, on the other hand, was far more perceptive. After about the fourth or fifth time you looked over at him on the sly (or so you thought), he finally asked, “What?”

There wasn’t malice in his tone, but amusement.

His sudden question startled you anyway.

With Winnie situated right in between the two of you and his arm resting on the back of the couch behind her, you thanked whatever deity there was for the extra space.

“Nothing, I just…” You started fidgeting with the hem of your blouse, turning back to the TV out of embarrassment. “This is kind of nice.”

Bucky let out a quiet hum of approval, followed by a soft, “Yeah.”

And it was. It was comfortable.

Too comfortable.

You checked your watch, then, a distraction from your ridiculous thoughts – which was when you realized that you should probably get moving if you were going to go buy a car today. That was the whole reason you were here, after all. Not to spend time with him.

Even though you were kind of enjoying it.

“It’s already after 11,” you told him. “We should probably get going.”

“Oh, yeah.” There it was again; you’d caught him off guard. “Yeah, we should.”

As you pulled yourself to your feet, you turned off the TV and instantly received a half-frown, half-pout from your little girl in response. “Sorry, baby. We’ve got places to be.”

“Is Daddy coming?” Winnie asked, giving you the perfect pair of puppy dog eyes.

Now that was something she’d gotten from her father.

“He sure is!” you replied with a smile. “Won’t that be fun? All three of us going somewhere?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, beaming.

“Okay, princess, go get your things,” Bucky instructed, and she was off – sprinting to her room for the second time to get her belongings. This time, however, you had a better feeling about it.

Maybe this could work.

Of course, when it was just you and Bucky like this, you got nervous. He was still seated on the sofa, looking up at you with those soft baby blues like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, you held the eye contact for a second longer than necessary, before you stammered out a quick, “Be right back,” and disappeared down the hallway.

For the second time that day, you shut yourself in the bathroom as a means of escape.

Staring blankly at your reflection, you frowned at your appearance. Your skin wasn’t blotchy anymore, at least, but your makeup was definitely smudged from crying earlier and you cursed yourself for not bringing something to touch it up.

Then again, why did you care? This was Bucky.

But you knew deep down that you only cared because it was him.

So you took a few deep breaths, salvaged what you could of your makeup, and then flushed the toilet: another means of keeping up appearances.

You were in the process of strapping Winnie into her car seat when you caught a glimpse of Steve through the rear window. He must have just returned from a mission, judging by his uniform.

While you couldn’t hear what he was saying to Bucky, it seemed serious – probably mission-related, or something else you weren’t privy to. Not that it mattered, because as soon as you approached, the tone of the conversation changed entirely.

“Oh, hey!” Steve said with a bright smile, pulling you in for a hug. “Long time, no see.”

God, he was just as heavy as Bucky. Good to see that hadn’t changed.

You gave him a quick squeeze around the waist and then took a step back. “Yeah, it’s been way too long, hasn’t it? How have you been?”

He offered you a shrug. “Fighting bad guys, you know, the usual. What about you?”

You snorted. Yeah, that sounded about right. “Still making coffee for those bad guys you’re always fighting.”

Once upon a time, Steve had busted one of them right outside your coffee shop in Manhattan. Judging by the laugh your joke earned you, he definitely seemed to remember.

“Hey, Steve,” you spoke thoughtfully, “You got a couple minutes? Winnie would love to see you before we go.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes lit up, and you didn’t miss the way he glanced at Bucky, almost like he was asking for permission. Bucky just rolled his eyes and shoved him toward your car.

Over the last two years, Steve had seen Winnie even less than Natasha had, and it was a damn shame because he was her godfather. You knew he cared about her, probably just as much as Natasha, but he’d always kept his distance after you ended things with his best friend. Even though you invited him around every now and then, he always said no; only came by with Natasha, and only sometimes. You always got the impression that he didn’t want to step on any toes.

“Oh wow, you’re so big now!” came Steve’s excited voice from the back seat. Somehow, he’d managed to contort his large body to fit in the small space, and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

“Uncle Stevie, you’re all spangly!”

“It’s my job to be spangly,” Steve told her pointedly, and then he started to talk about his mission – little bits and pieces, all good, non-violent things. She’d always liked his stories.

It was nice to see her so happy like this, chatting animatedly with Steve just like she’d done with Natasha, and you knew she’d love to see the rest of the team, too.

“We’ll have to come around more often,” you found yourself saying, not really considering the implications of it – that you’d have to have a good co-parenting relationship first.

“You know you can come by anytime you want, right?”

Well, no, you didn’t, and Bucky’s suggestion caught you by surprise. You met his eyes for a moment, worrying your bottom lip in between your teeth as you considered it. No, it just didn’t seem right to come to the compound unannounced, for a multitude of reasons – particularly if he wasn’t here to greet you. When you opened your mouth to refuse, however, he just shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter if I’m on a mission, doll. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, brows furrowing. “That would be kind of…”

Awkward. Intrusive. Spiteful, even.

“Weird,” you finished lamely.

“Why?”

“Because they’re your friends.”

Bucky scoffed. “Hardly. Steve wanted to see you just as much as I did. Shoulda heard him.”

Your heart immediately skipped a beat, and you ventured hesitantly, “You wanted to see me?”

Bucky didn’t seem to realize what he’d said until you pointed it out, and he quickly looked away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Even you were able to notice the way his ears turned red. “Well, yeah. ‘course I did.”

What the hell did that mean?

Steve, of course, chose that opportune moment to say his goodbyes to your daughter, and you lost your chance to ask. Not that you had the courage to, anyway.

“I’ve gotta type up some reports,” Steve said, jogging back to the two of you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? You’re welcome here anytime. Buck’s already sorted it out.”

“Thanks,” you responded unsurely. “See you later?”

Steve nodded, and then he clapped Bucky on the shoulder – the very same Bucky who shot him an irritated look, which Steve promptly ignored in favour of waving goodbye and making his way up the steps.

You grew a little wary at Bucky’s sudden change in demeanour. “What did he mean, you’ve already sorted it out?”

Bucky sighed exasperatedly.

“I had a swipe card made for you,” he explained, clearly annoyed, running a hand through his hair. “For the gate. If… If you want it. You don’t have to take it, I just thought—”

“Okay,” you accepted with a shrug.

He just stared at you.

“It makes sense for me to have one, right?” Good thing you could think fast on your feet, because otherwise you would have seemed way too eager. “Especially if Winnie’s gonna be here. Right?”

“Right,” he said slowly. “Yeah.”

God, you were an idiot.

Bucky pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and cracked it open; and as he thumbed through it in search of the swipe card, you caught a glimpse of a photo: one of you and Winnie on her first birthday, glittery pink party hats on your heads.

The very same birthday he’d missed.

The very last straw before you left.

“Here,” he said, then, holding out a plain white card to you – plastic, the same size and shape of a credit card. “Just swipe it over the black sensor by the intercom.”

You swallowed thickly and accepted the card with a shaky, “Thanks.”

When your fingertips brushed against his, you nearly dropped the stupid thing – nearly jumped out of your own skin.

Bucky studied your face for a moment, and then, predictably, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

You pushed your feelings aside and shoved the card into your purse.

“Nothing,” you lied, walking around to the driver’s side of your car. “Come on.”

He’d probably only kept that photo because it had Winnie in it. Of course, you’d given him plenty more, so you still weren’t sure why he’d decided to put that particular one in his wallet.

It didn’t matter.

“Okay, but at least let me be a gentleman,” he teased, coming around to your side of the car.

When he opened the car door for you, you gave him what you hoped was a grateful smile before you settled into the weathered, sun-faded seat, thoughts racing just as much as your heartbeat.

Part Six

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #this is the day that never ends #it goes on and on my friends

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skullrock · 4 years

Text

the partners, chapter two - Steve x Reader

chapter two: there is a light that never goes out

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: You and Steve grow closer; you and Steve are called in to investigate a death

warnings: swearing, panic attacks, mention of death

word count: 3.3k

a/n: things are heating up boys!! next chapter will really kick off the cop stuff. if you haven’t seen it, here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. enjoy!

---------

The rest of the week rolls by without many incidents. By the time Friday comes, you’re beaming with excitement.

“We’re still on, right?” You ask him Friday morning, bouncing on your toes.

“Y/N, for the fifteenth time, yes,” he laughs. “I’m not bailing.”

He kind of wishes he could – he hasn’t been able to sleep. He can’t stop worrying. What if this is a mistake? What if you get hurt? What if this all backfires? He can’t let you know this, though, and he’s been grinning through the week.

“Great, do you know where I live?”

“Three streets away from me, Oak Street, the big white house.”

You tilt your head. “How did you—”

“You’re the only person in town with a Walter Mondale sticker on their bumper,” he replies. “I saw your car in your driveway.”

Steve had moved out of his parent’s house about one week after securing the position at the station. His parents had graciously gotten him an “apartment,” which was in fact a nice house in a good spot in town. They paid his rent as a form of gratitude that he was “getting his life together”. He hated that idea, truly, but was happy to be able to live on his own, only worrying about groceries. He was a lot happier now that he was on his own – specifically that he was not living with his father. He did see his mother though, and pretty often, because she would bring him a lunch every few days.

“Creep,” you say, smiling. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”

“Y/N, we have an eight hour shift ahead of us.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you all day and then tonight.”

---------

Steve pulls up around 6:30, and he’s sweating bullets. He honks once, then waits. He finds himself checking himself out in the rearview mirror, and then quickly jerks his head away. It must be some kind of knee-jerk reaction, Steve thinks, picking up a girl feels like a date.

You come out of your house and lock the door, then bolt down the steps to his car. He can feel the energy radiating off of you.

“Hi,” you say as you slip inside.

“You look nice when you’re not wearing a uniform,” he jokes.

“Funny. I was going to say the same about you.” You buckle up and he sets off for Mike’s house.

“Now that you’re hanging out with my friends, am I going to hang out with yours?” he asks.

You deflate slightly. “Well, that’s the thing,” you say quietly, examining your nails. “I um. I don’t really… have any?”

He looks over at you, forehead creasing at your body language. “You don’t have any friends? That’s gotta be bullshit.”

“I did,” you explain. “But then I went to college and I lost touch with people from high school. And then I came back and I lost touch with people from college. So, I really don’t…” you sigh heavily. “Hang out with people.”

He swallows hard. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I knew –“

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault or anything. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” You smile and lightly punch his arm. “Since I managed to crawl into your life.”

“Well, you’ll really like the kids,” he says. “Let me give you the rundown.”

He begins to explain all six of them. Dustin Henderson, his best friend, has a bit of a lisp and some disease that “makes him like Gumbo? Gumby? Whatever.” Mike Wheeler, party leader, bit of a drama queen, loyal friend. Lucas Sinclair, funny one of the bunch, dating Max, the redhead, is emotionally mature despite his comedic exterior. Max Mayfield, redhead extraordinaire, metaphorically adopted sister of Steve, super intelligent and strong. Will Byers, “you already know him,” kind and quiet, has been through a lot, deserves the world. Then there’s El.

“El is… different.”

“How?”

“Well…,” he sighs. “She… comes from a bad home. She was… she comes from a bad home. They did bad things to her.”

“Oh.”

“But she’s really great. I’m trying to teach her how to read before she and Will go back to Maine for school. She’s dating Mike, they get along pretty well. She’s really smart, just behind since she never got to go to school.”

You nod. “They all sound like phenomenal kids.”

“They are,” he replies thoughtfully. “Sometimes they’re a pain in the ass, but they’re my pain in the ass.”

You pull into the same large house on Maple Street that you had a few days before and hop out. You’re feeling a bit antsy – so is Steve.

“Wait,” you say. “Doesn’t Nancy live here?”

“Oh.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, but we’re cool. We still talk to each other. And she’s probably out with Jonathan anyway.” He clears his throat, and you reach out and squeeze his arm. “I’m okay,” he laughs. “Come on, let’s go.”

The kids remember you from the other day, and your friendship with Steve helps convince them that you’re a good person. You get along together immediately, laughing and joking like you’re all old friends. Steve beams and Dustin nudges him, making Steve shove him.

“We’re watching The Goonies tonight,” Lucas says, producing the VHS.

“What’s a goonie?” El asks.

“It’s like, a silly person,” Steve explains. “Like Mike.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “We can’t start yet, Robin isn’t here.”

You nearly choke on the soda you were drinking. “Robin? Robin Buckley?”

As if on cue, the door to the basement opens and Robin comes down. You jump up and shout her name. She looks at you, confused for a brief moment, then smiles widely and bounds over to you.

“Oh my God!” you both shout as you embrace. You try to ask each other questions, but they all come out at the same time, making you both laugh.

“Are you going to tell us how you both know each other?” Steve asks, brows drawn together, but smiling, nonetheless.

“We were in band together!” Robin exclaims. “I thought you died or something, you never called!”

“I lost your number when I moved to Indianapolis,” you explain, squeezing her hand. “But I’m back now. I’ve been back for a few months. I work with Steve, at the station.”

Robin snaps her head over to him and glares, making him sink in his seat.

“None of us knew,” Max pipes up. “That Steve works with someone, I mean.”

Robin closes her eyes and shakes her head. She looks back at Steve with a we need to talk kind of look, then turns back to you. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

As the night goes on, you grow more and more comfortable with everyone. You sit and talk to Robin while the rest of the gang plays Monopoly. You could mirror the movie to how the kids act – it’s like they are the Goonies. You watch as they all bicker, Max shoving Lucas over stupid jokes, and El grabbing onto Mike, leaning into him. You watch as Will and Dustin barter with each other, and as Steve calls them all out for “cheating,” which is code for “I really suck at this game and need to explain why I’m losing.”

Your eyes focus on Steve while he explains something to El. It makes your chest swell. It feels like the only thing you can focus on his Steve. How bright his eyes are while talking to his friends, how his brows flit together then part as he laughs. And his laugh. It’s the only thing you can hear, and the sound rings in your ears. He looks up at you and smiles, then goes back to looking at the game board. You snap out of your trance.

“Oh, ew.” It’s supposed to be said in your head, but you say it out loud.

“What?” Robin asks. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” you say after a moment. “Yeah, sorry. I just got a little, uh, sidetracked. So, um, are you planning on going to school anywhere?”

Soon enough, it’s one in the morning, and the kids are getting tired. You are, too, and you yawn loudly.

“Let’s go, sleepyhead,” Steve says, holding out his hands to help you off the couch. You take them, swallowing the electricity in your stomach.

“You should come by more often!” Dustin grins.

“Yeah, we need more girls around,” Max says, and you smile back at her.

“You’re welcome in the party anytime,” Mike declares, and the others agree.

You could almost cry at how nice they are. “You guys will never know how… how much…” you sniffle. “How much this night has meant for me.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, rubbing your back. “Time to go, buddy.”

“You guys are the best!” you say through tears, and Steve shushes you gently, guiding you upstairs.

“Steve!” Dustin shouts, and bounds up behind him. Steve rolls his eyes and tells you to head out to the car.

“You better bring her around again.” Dustin squeezes his arm and Steve rolls his eyes once more.

“We mean it!” Will says. “She’s cool.”

“You guys don’t even like me this much,” Steve huffs, to which Robin replies, “Yes, because you’re a dingus. Y/N is cool.”

“Goodnight!” Steve groans, continuing upstairs.

He unlocks the car and you both get in.

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes shining, “for taking me out.”

“Of course,” he hums. “Next time it can just be us, without kids and Robin.”

Your stomach flips and you ignore it again. “I’d really like to.”

You both make conversation as you head down the darkened streets. You think the town at night is beautiful and serene. Steve thinks it’s eerie and threatening. He really didn’t like going out at night much anymore, and he typically had to talk himself up if he was leaving somewhere past 9 pm. You notice the change in his energy, how he is suddenly gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight.

You begin to ask him if he’s alright, but a deer scampers across the road. It’s not very close, and maybe required just a slight brake, but Steve throws his arm out to pin you to your seat and slams on the brakes. The car slides to a halt and you slam back against the seat; thankfully Steve threw his arm over you, or you’d probably have a severe case of whiplash.

When the car stills, you look over at him, eyes wide and heart skipping. He looks like he aged 50 years in ten seconds. His eyes are huge, jaw clenched tightly. A crease on his forehead. His body is stiff and he is leaning forward, almost like he’s about to fight. He looks, quite honestly, like death.

“Steve,” you breathe. “Are you okay?”

Steve throws the car into park. He squeezes his eyes shut and blinks a few times, eventually relaxing in his seat. Although his body is relaxed, you can hear how his breathing is a quick staccato, not slow. He runs a hand through his hair once, twice, three times. It sounds like he’s drowning, and his eyes are filled with tears when he looks at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m sorry – I thought –“

His eyes can’t focus. They run around in his head, back at the road, to you, to the steering wheel, to his hands, to the road again.

You realize he’s having a panic attack.

“Hey, hey,” you coo. “Look at me, Steve.”

He faces you, but his eyes are still moving rapidly, and his breathing is becoming quicker. You see him swallow hard.

“You’re safe,” you say, reaching out and taking a hand. “It was just a deer. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He nods stiffly. “No – I know that – I just thought….” I just thought it was a Demogorgon. No big deal. He clamps his eyes shut again and you see tears fall.

“Steve, look at me. Focus on me, okay?”

He nods lightly and does, and you see his pupils focus in on you.

“Breathe with me, alright? In and out.” You exaggerate your breathing, deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth. He tries to keep up and pace himself, but it takes a few tries.

“You’re doing great,” you say quietly, and squeeze his hand. “Can you pull the car over for me?”

He does as you ask, eyes scanning the road ahead. His bat is in the trunk (he figured he should hide it before you see it), and he considers getting out to grab it. You pull him back to reality.

“Look at me.” His eyes meet yours again. “I’m going to teach you something, okay? It’s based on your senses. Can you tell me five things you hear?”

He blinks. “I hear the engine… I hear your breathing… I hear the radio… I hear my breathing… I hear my heart beating.”

You nod. “Okay, good. Four things you can see?”

“Uh….” His eyes flick back to the road and you gently pull his head back to look at you.

“I’ll focus on the road, okay? Just tell me four things you see in the car.”

“I see you… I see my hands… I see the steering wheel… I see the light from the stereo.”

“Three things you smell?”

“My cologne, your perfume, gasoline.”

“Two things you can feel?”

“Your skin and the seat under me.”

You smile. “This one’s tough. One thing you can taste.”

Steve pauses. “Coca-Cola?”

“Perfect,” you say, squeezing his hand again. “Do you feel better?”

He does; he’s not fully grounded, but he’s feeling better than he did a few minutes ago. He can breathe normally again, and his body is a bit more relaxed. He nods and you let his hand go.

“You’re okay,” you repeat. “You’re safe.”

“I’m okay,” he breathes. He reaches up and wipes his eyes, laughing slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.” You don’t really know what just happened, but you know whatever he’s going through must be tough. “Your feelings are valid. It’s okay to feel that way, Steve.”

Steve sighs heavily, and after a few minutes, he puts the car in drive.

“Don’t take me home,” you request. “I can walk.”

“What? No way. I’m taking you to your house.”

“Steve,” you say. “Sometimes you need to take care of yourself before you take care of others. I can walk, dude, it’s only 15 minutes, max.”

He wants to refute your claim. He wants to believe he’s strong enough to just take you home and forget about it all, but all he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep until the afternoon. He just wants to forget. So he pulls into his driveway and shuts the car off. He sits there for a few moments before finally saying, “I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

“Steve.” You can’t help but to laugh. “I haven’t been this happy in so long. I don’t care – I don’t mind that you got… spooked. And we don’t ever have to talk about it again. I don’t care what happens as long as I’m with you.”

The corners of his mouth perk up. “Oh no, Y/N. Don’t fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes and nudge him, smiling. That’s the Steve you knew.

You reach into the center console, finding an old receipt and a pen.

“Here,” you say, scribbling. “Here’s my number.” You shove the receipt towards him, and he takes it.

Steve writes his number on the bottom of the receipt and rips it off. “And here’s mine. You better call me when you get home. Like, the minute you go through the door.”

“I promise.”

You both get out of the car.

“I really did have fun,” you say. “I hope I see you soon.”

He nods. Part of you wishes he would say it back, but you understand. As you’re walking off, he calls after you.

“Y/N!”

“Yeah?”

He licks his lips. “Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and salute, continuing off into the night.

---------

You awake Monday morning at 1 am to your phone ringing. You quickly sit up in bed and grab it.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” It’s Steve. “I need your help.”

Your eyebrows knit together, and you look at your clock. “Are you okay?”

“I….” He huffs. “I’m trying to make danishes for everyone at the station? But everything I do is wrong, and there’s flour everywhere—”

“It’s one in the god damn morning!” You exclaim. “We have work in seven hours.”

“Yeah,” he says, like you’re the idiot. “Why do you think I’m making them now?”

You close your eyes. You want to be annoyed, but it’s honestly hilarious. “Okay, Steve. I’ll be there in a few.”

You arrive and knock on the door, and you’re greeted by Steve. He is covered in flour, and he looks nearly as stressed as he was Friday night.

You gawk at him. “What—”

“Just – come in,” he insists, grabbing you and pulling you inside.

Steve has a really nice house. Or apartment, or whatever he wants to call it. He takes you through the living room, then dining room, and into the kitchen, where there is even more flour. It looks like a bomb went off.

“So,” he starts, pacing around the kitchen, creating tracks in the flour-covered floor. “I’m trying to make these, right? And it says to put flour and butter into a blender. And so I did. And like, it’s fine, it’s going great, but then I guess I added too much flour, and now it’s everywhere. And this fucking dough is supposed to chill for 6 hours and we have work in 7.”

“Where is your recipe?”

He hands you a sheet of paper and you scan over it.

“Steve,” you groan. “Are you even following this?” You look up at him. “How did you even manage to mix the yeast and water correctly?”

He leans on the counter and puts his head in his hands. “I don’t think I did.”

You burst into laughter. You can hardly keep yourself upright. Your ribs and jaw hurt, but you can’t stop. Steve seems annoyed at first, but then starts laughing with you.

“No matter what, you couldn’t have these done in the morning,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Why did you think this was a good idea?”

He shrugs hopelessly. “I just wanted to be nice, and I couldn’t sleep.”

You both resolve to cleaning up and starting again. You would make the dough and let it chill, and then continue making them that night.

You watch from afar, giving Steve tips and reading the directions out for him. He’s not super helpless when someone is directing him. When it comes time to fold the dough, though, he’s doing it wrong.

“No,” you say, jumping up and coming behind him. “You fold like this.”

You take his hand and help him get the technique right. After a few moments, your cheeks start to burn, and you feel that same chest-swelling feeling that you had at Mike’s house. You slow your movements and Steve follows, until you completely stop. He turns back to look at you, and you notice how close you are to him.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Steve drops the spatula he was using and hurries off into the living room, looking paler than usual.

“Hello?” you hear him ask. There’s a long pause before he says, “Do you want Y/N to come too?” Another pause. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

He comes back into view and looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Who was it?” you ask, heart beating fast.

“It was the Chief. There’s a dead body at Rimborn Steelworks.”

--------

tags (message if you want to join!): @harrington-ofhawkins @wolfish-willow @gothackedalready

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #my fics #the partners #god this is so long rip to everyone who chooses to read it all #chapter summaries are so hard wtf

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chappedandfadedvds · 4 years

Text

Jan 16th, Saturday 15:16

Jens was actually laughing.

Genuingly laughing, when Lotte told them some really bad joke she had heard in school. A dumb pun. But it had been the fourth in a row and they had finally reached the breaking point.

He sat at the table, an half emptied plate of apple slices between him and his little sister, while Lies roamed the kitchen to write down a list of groceries to buy on her way home. She planned to visit their mom and it had weighed heavy on her, when she had admitted this to Jens early that morning infront of the bathroom mirror.

Lies had told him, how much it hurt to live so far away and unable to travel and come home. She would have loved to help Jens over the past year, even if it would just have been for a week here and there. It was the reason why she had been so desperate to secure the position to be send to Brussels.

Not that it been an actual problem, her wokrplace knew very well about her family situation. Still, Lies had said, that the moment she had recieved the plane tickets only a week ago, she had broken down in her boss’s office.

Lies was here though now, thankful for the opportunity to bid farewell to their mother in person at last.

Jens understood the relief his older sister had explained to him. He couldn’t even entertain the thought of not being able to see his mom, while prohibited to visit inmidst the pandemic.

„Oh, I know! There is this one dish Theo and me always make as comfort food. Quite easy, but really nice in winter, with a good hearty broth. I’m going to do that.“ Lies declared vague from where she stood behind the opened door of the fridge. Mumbling something under her breath, while she noted things down on the piece of paper on the counter next to her.

„I don’t know if I should trust you to actually cook something delicious.“ Jens mocked, reminded of the many times that Lies had simply ordered take-out on every evening she was watching her siblings. Cooking was for loosers, she always had said, and simultaneously implied that she was at an absolute loss in the kitchen.

„Says the person who had managed to let noodles get burned to crisps while boiling them.“

„I was ten.“ He defended, cackling when Lies snorted and their gazes met. So much time had passed, but Jens was assured that the loving arguments between them would never cease to exist.

„But Jens is really good now. He makes like a super good riceotto“ Lotte chimed in, the wide smile on her face somewhere between amused and puzzled. She hadn’t much memories of Jens and Lies together, so it was reasonable for her to be unsure why it was funny. Their little sister had been only five when Lies had left.

She had cried for a whole week, but with time passing, she had stopped even mentioning Lies alltogether. She knew her, yes, but she couldn’t tell what they had done or talked about together any longer. And maybe it was a little sad, Jens thought, but it also meant that Lotte wouldn’t miss Lies as much as Jens sometimes did.

„Risotto.“ Jens corrected, while he leaned a little over to ruffle through her hair. She slapped his hand away, stucking out her tounge at him in jest.

„Well, maybe Jens should cook then. I won’t complain.“

„No way, you are the oldest now, you cook.“ Jens quickly proclaimed his flawless reasoning against the mere suggestion Lies had voiced. His older sister barely contained herself from laughing again, instead nodded along, as she continued to write even more things down.

Jens knew that she had come with a rented car from the airport, but the list just grew and he wasn’t sure, if he should tell her off. It looked like she wanted to stock the kitchen for an entire month.

The mood turned a little quieter, only Jens’s spotify playlist filled the house with some comfortable noise, while Lotte sketched some abstract scenes on paper. Jens’s eyes flicked over every once in a while, but it appeared like there wasn’t much reason behind it.

He yawned and stretched his arms, a loud cracking sound in his shoulder earned him a gleeful glance from Lies, who he flipped off. Despite it, he felt younger today. He felt lighter. His breathing wasn’t hurting as much, his thoughts came easier.

Lies and him had talked for hours yesterday. He had forgotten how close they used to be. Which was wierd given their age difference and them not even being the same gender. But somehow they always stuck together. Jens wished she would stay.

The day they had bid goodbye at the airport had been locked somewhere into his head. Even after three years he didn’t dared to touch it.

This all would be easier if he had Lies to live with them. But it wasn’t reality and Lies had made him understand that it was okay to be scared. She had admitted at three in the morning, when they had headed to bed, that it had taken her month to figure out how to live on her own. Especially after she had moved to a different continent, while leaving her family behind. Jens could do this too.

He still had all of his friends around. He had this house. He had Lotte.

He just had to start somewhere.

„I think I’m going to call Lucas.“ Jens suddenly said. For a moment he had considered the possibility that he hadn’t spoken aloud at all. However, it became clear that he had, as both his sister’s heads spun towards him in an instant.

„Really? That came out of nowhere. But good for you. I think you should.“ Lies said, a little startled by his surprising change of demeanour. Only this morning he had still sat depressed and hunched over in pity in front of his breakfast. Jens wasn’t even sure himself where the urge to do it had popped up from.

„Yes!“ Lotte followed up quickly with bright wide eyes. Of course she would be excited.

„Okay. I’m going to do it.“ He declared, more to will his confidence in excistense than aynthing else.

He was nervous. Maybe Lucas wouldn’t even pick up? Jens wasn’t even sure, if Lucas’s mom was still around. This was a bad idea.

The whole conversation from thursday sprung back into his mind. The hurt in Lucas’s eyes and the anger in his words. All caused by Jens. What if the other boy needed more time? What if he wouldn’t even pick up?

The fear must have shown on his face. Jens was sure, because Lies stood suddenly next to him, to push his phone into view. He had been starring at the surface of the table, unmoving, even when Lotte had come closer too, with a hand resting on his shoulder.

„Come on. Call.“ Lies demanded, despite the gentleness in her voice, it still made him take the phone into his hand.

„Alright.“

„Do you want us to leave?“

Good question, Jens thought, unsure how to answer. But then, he wasn’t planning on having the needed conversation over phone anyway. He was scared that words would get twisted and intentions screwed by the missing connection one had face to face.

So he shook his head.

The phone rang four times.

Nothing.

He tried again. Just this second time and then he would put it away again.

It merely managed to make a sound, before the call was answered.

„Jens?“

He sat at the table, his breath on hold, as he listened to the boy on the other end. Jens wouldn’t cry from solely his name being spoken by the person he missed so much for only a couple of days now. He wouldn’t.

That was at least what he desperately told himself.

„Jens? Are you there?“

There was worry in the voice and Jens didn’t trust it. He didn’t deserved it. But he was on the phone, he remembered. He had been the one to iniiate the conversation. He should probably say something.

„Hi.“

Jesus. His voice had certainly cracked, like some fifteen year old teenanger going through puperty. This was embarrassing. But it also helped. Lucas was definitely snorting on the other end of the call. And the three siblings all fell into laughter, with Lies wheezing at her brother’s pitiful attempt to make things right. His sister’s really tried to keep quiet, but it kind of was in vain. Lucas must have heard them.

It took Jens a solid minute to speak again.

„Sorry, about that.“

„It’s alright.“ Lucas said as he took an audible deep breath to calm down to continue. The faintest amusement in his voice still there, even if the mood had turned serious again. „I am really glad that you called.“

It was the earnesty that struck Jens the most. It came unexpected. He had planned to force Lucas to hear him out if he had to. In the strong assumption that the younger boy didn’t wanted to talk to him in the first place. Apparently Jens had been wrong. Again. Like so often. It seemed to become a habit.

„I’m glad you picked up.“

„Of course.“ Lucas replied without any hesitation, it made Jens smile a little. It felt so good to hear him again. To hear him at ease. Jens pushed away the intruding thought in his head, that told him that it probably had to do with Jens’s absence. He hated that he somehow could belive it.

„I thought, maybe we can talk?“

There was a brief pause on the other end, as the call fell silent.

„I’d like that. When?“ Lucas asked and Jens noticed that he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

„Uhm, when?“

„Yes, when?“

The amusement in the younger boy was back. Jens could imagine Lucas shaking his head at the silly and ungraceful awkwardness Jens presented. There was a hand in his view, that lead him to look up at Lies, who tried to get his attention.

„Tomorrow.“ She whispered, nodding her head quickly, while she pointed a finger to herself. „I can watch Lotte.“

Jens loved Lies so much, it was ridiculous.

„How about tomorrow? I could come over to yours.“

„Okay. Be here at one maybe?“

„Yes, that works.“ He affirmed in a heartbeat. Jens would have agreed to any proposed time. It wouldn’t have mattered as long as he got the chance to talk to Lucas. He had an idea what he wanted to say after last night’s conversation with Lies. He knew that it wouldn’t be perfect or maybe even work in his favour, but it would be a start.

„I’ll see you tomorrow then.“ Lucas said.

„Tomorrow.“

They sat in silence for a moment. Usually Jens would have told him that he loved him. But it didn’t feel right, even when the feelings were clearly there. It felt too much to voice it. They hadn’t broken up yet, but it wasn’t as if they were in a relationship still either. So he simply waited.

And then there was a clicking sound and the call was ended.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

#week 13 #wtfock #skam #vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #chapped and faded #final week #picking up the pieces

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pappydaddy · 4 years

Text

Ophelia (s.h.)

A/N: This is the first part (yay!) out of the I Wanna Be Yours series. If you notice, there is a theme to this: songs!! Pretty much this entire series is inspired by songs and music so I put together a playlist on Spotify (if you have Apple music, feel free to make a playlist on that but please inform me first!) and I might make one on youtube but idk.

Each part is going to have the songs I listened to while writing it, inspired it, or fit with the contents of the part. Please, if you’re going to listen to the playlist, don’t put it on shuffle while you read it because I worked really hard to get the order right!! I hope you guys enjoy this!! (Also enjoy my weird, wide range of music😂).

PLEASE TAKE A SECOND TO LOOK AT MY PINNED POST AND SIGN THE PETITION!!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!OC(named)

Warnings: Angst, violence in some parts, arguments, body image issues, feeling belittled/feeling weak, SPOILERS!!(for all seasons).

Fandom: Stranger Things

I Wanna Be Yours Playlist (Spotify)

This parts songs:

This parts songs: I Wanna Hold Your Hand - The Beatles | Ophelia - Lumineers | Poison - Rita Ora | Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala | Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES (TRYING THEM OUT) PLEASE DM ME OR JUST ASK!!

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

Sitting in the driver's seat of her car, she listened to her brother ramble on and on about only two subjects: this new girlfriend named Suzie and Steve Harrington. Every time he brought the ramblings back to his fluffy-haired older friend, she found her mind wandering. Steve Harrington had proven himself to be much more different than she had first perceived. When she had moved to Hawkins, she had thought him to be an egotistical asshole who only cared about a title and he had proven her right through his actions until one day when he suddenly just wasn’t. Suddenly, Steve was the boy who was dating Nancy Wheeler and hanging around with Jonathan Byers. He no longer was ‘King Steve’ (the king title being passed to Billy Hargrove), he no longer had Tommy H. and Carol as his two annoying shadows. Ophelia wasn’t quite sure what happened between the three, but it must have been pretty big.

Despite the change in his ranking within the high school, she still didn’t fully trust him. His past actions went against everything she believed in. She believed in kindness and loyalty, not getting into fist-fights, bullying and ignoring people just because you perceive yourself as better than them. Maybe that’s why they never seemed to become friends for the majority of the time he went to high school.

“Ophelia,” Her brother’s call of her name snapped her from her thoughts of her history with her brother’s friend. “Are you even listening to me?” He asked her when she glanced at him quickly. She pressed on the brake of her car, getting ready to turn into the bustling mall parking lot.

“Yes, of course I’m listening!” She lied, looking back in front of her.

“Really? Then why haven’t you been answering me when I’ve asked how Steve’s been doing?” Dustin perked an eyebrow at his older sister. Sure, her and Steve Harrington were not friends through most of Steve’s high school career, but that had changed when Dustin had brought them together to help capture Dart, leading to Ophelia’s second go around with the Upside down. He had changed once again. With Nancy Wheeler dumping in at Tina’s Halloween party and then running off with Jonathan, she had seen Steve once again change his spots. After fighting the Upside Down alongside him, their friendship blossomed.

“Because, we’re about to see him so you can actually ask him for yourself, Dipwad.” She commented, trying to get Dustin off her case. All she needed was for him to know just how she felt about the dopey, hair-obsessed boy. Sure, their sudden and shocking friendship was not the last of Steve’s changing. Through their growing friendship, she had watched as he changed into the dorky, clumsy, parent of six. Sure, he lost his charm, but somehow, his lack of charm captured Ophelia’s heart. Maybe it was finally seeing the true Steve Harrington that made her heart skip a beat every time she so much as heard his name. Or maybe it was the way he developed a new charm that the girls of Hawkins have yet to fall for, but no matter how it happened, she definitely fell head over heels for him.

“I don’t want him to know I’m worried about him.” Dustin exclaimed, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as he gripped his hat covered curls in frustration. Ophelia gave him a look as she pulled into a parking spot, turning the car off swiftly.

“He’s fine, Dusty,” She reassured him, pulling the keys from the ignition. “Why are you so worried about him anyway?” She posed the question. Sure, he had been a little bummed out since he hadn’t gotten into any schools he applied for, and he was a little upset about having to get a crappy part-time job, but it wasn’t anything to make Ophelia too concerned. Of course, it hurt her a little hearing him talking about himself the way he does, but what hurts her the most was the little game him and Robin were playing. Seeing him shamelessly (and horribly) flirting with girl after girl who ventured into Scoops Ahoy was poison to her heart. Each wink he gave the girls was like a needle injecting the next dose right into her valves, wanting to kill the beating organ.

“Between you and me, I think he’s lost his mojo a little, Leah,” Dustin whispered to her over the hood of her car as they climbed out. She gave him a look that told him that he was crazy, but he just challenged it with a knowing look. “He hasn’t had a date since Nancy left him and he doesn’t go to parties. He’s lost his confidence and, in turn, lost his mojo.” Dustin explained.

“He didn’t lose his mojo, Dustin. He’s changed, he’s grown and he’s trying to figure himself out and he hasn’t tried to get a date since Nancy left him.” She pointed out, trying to cease her brother’s worries. Sure, he’s flirted, but he hasn’t actually put himself out there. Ophelia knows the difference between flirting and actually wanting a relationship all too well. Her trusting nature had made her fall privy to people just wanting attention or sex, but on the flipside, her trusting nature had let her experience some of the most beautiful relationships - most of them which had turned sour towards the end, but none-the-less, were still a beautiful heart-break.

“I’m still going to worry about him.” Dustin remarked as they walked into the mall. Ophelia hummed, dropping her hand on top of his hat covered head, ruffling it slightly before falling to rest on the bookbag he wore on his back. She made him stop for a second as she dropped her keys in her purse, pulling her wallet out.

“Alright, you head over to Scoops, here’s some money,” She told Dustin, handing him a couple of bills. “Steve is going to try and give you free ice cream, tell him no and give him the money or put it in the tip jar. Trust me, it has been my entire summer.” She instructed him. Admittedly, her heart would soar like an eagle in the sky when Steve would push her hand full of money, insisting that it was on the house every time she wanted an ice cream, thinking that he might just actually feel the same way she did, her desperate heart filling her mind with hopes that would quickly cloud over with dark thunder clouds when he would send flirty statements over the counter at the next girl.

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” Dustin furrowed his brows, taking the money.

“I will be there in a few, I’m heading over to work to check the schedule, and Brett said he needed to talk to me about something anyway.” She told him, stuffing her wallet back in her purse. Dustin narrowed his eyes at her at the name.

“Whose Brett?” He cocked his head to the side. He had heard the name before, most likely from one of Ophelia’s friends gushing about random guys while they were locked up in her room.

“He works with me, he’s also the captain of the hockey team - Melissa never shut up about him in grade nine,” She answered him, patting his shoulder. Dustin hummed at this, nodding. He looked at the bills she handed him, counting them to see how much she gave him. “I won’t be long, Brett usually writes my hours down for me anyway.” Told him before walking away from him and towards the escalators, heading towards Tower Records. Dustin didn’t pay the information any attention as he made his way towards Scoops.

His sneakers squeaked against the tiled floor as he looked around the mall in awe. He hadn’t seen it yet, only heard about it in Ophelia’s letters to him while he was at camp, but nothing she said could do the actual thing justice. The bright neon signs, the high-end stores. The sleek glass in the ceiling letting the sun provide natural light. The fountain, the hustle and bussle. It was great. Walking into the sailor themed ice cream parlor, he took in the blue and white striped wallpaper and the cheery sailor tone playing.

Steve was nowhere to be seen when he walked in, so he fell into line behind the two people standing at the counter. He waited patiently, gripping the now crumpled bills in his hands. He could see the girl behind the counter with short blonde hair what had the softest wave to it. Her blue eyes looked bored and unenthusiastic. “Have a nice day.” She drawled, her eyes vacant of joy as she handed the two people their ice cream cones.

“Thank you.” The girl smiled at the blonde before the pair of them left, happily licking their ice cream. Dustin smiled, knowing he was so close to seeing Steve again. The girl behind the counter pressed her hands into it, leaning on them as she turned her uninterested gaze on the beaming Dustin who showed off his toothless smile.

“Hi.” Dustin basically bounced in his spot from excitement.

“Hi.” She drawled, not nearly as excited as Dustin was. Silence passed between them as they looked at each other. Dustin’s smile never filtered and the blonde’s expression never changed. Dustin opened his mouth, gesturing towards himself awkwardly.

“I’m Dustin.” He introduced himself, thinking that Steve had told his co-worker all about him. He told almost anyone who would listen about how excited he was to get back home and see Steve so he expected nothing less from his older friend.

“I’m Robin.” The blonde replied, a forced smile on her lips. She really just wanted him to order his ice cream and move along so that maybe the day could go by faster.

“Pleasure to meet you, uh-” He told her politely. Much like she wanted him to hurry up, Dustin just wanted this to be done with so he could see his friend. “Is-is he here?” Dustin asked with a gesture of his hand, his bright eyes scanning over the space behind the counter.

“Is who here?” Robin asked, somewhat intrigued with this strange child. He was so happy and cheerful, his eyes bright. Just then, the swinging door leading to the backroom burst open making them snap their attention towards it. With a squeak of his sneaker, Steve was there, his eyes wide with excitement, just knowing that his friend was out in the parlor.

“Henderson,” He stepped away from the door, raising his arms in the air, a wide smile on his face at the sight of the curly haired teen. Dustin started to laugh, pointing towards the older boy as his smile grew, his eyes squinting from it. “Henderson! He’s back,” Steve jumped around as he rushed around the counter, trying to reach his best friend. “He’s back!” He basically yelled, pointing to Dustin. He glanced at Robin as if she was supposed to care. Robin clued into just who the strange child was at the last name. Ophelia’s little brother. Their cheery happiness was almost uncanny.

“I’m back! You got the job!” Dustin exclaimed.

“I got the job,” Steve matched Dustin’s enthusiasm, making a trumpet noise while pretending to play one. “Hey, oh!” He said as they performed an intricate handshake. Robin watched the two with raised eyebrows as they pretended to be fighting with lightsabers before Dustin pretended to stab Steve, prompting Steve to pretend his guts were falling out. They finished the handshake, looking at each other and laughing. Steve rested his arm on the cooler beside him, both of them sighing and coming down from their laughter.

“How many children are you friends with?” Robin asked, leaning forward on her hands more, eyeing Steve. He certainly wasn’t the same Steve she knew in high school. Steve looked at her, sighing before sniffling as his smile shrunk. Swiping his finger under his nose, he gestured towards Robin with his hand, giving Dustin a look.

“So, hey, uh,” Steve started, looking around the parlor, placing both his hands on his hips and kicking his foot out. The musical laughter of the girl he was almost positive he would see today was missing. “Where’s your sister? I thought she’d come in with you.” He asked, looking at Dustin. Dustin shrugged, looking around the parlor to take it all in.

“She said she’d be here soon, she had to stop by the store to check the schedule and apparently some guy wanted to talk to her about something there,” Dustin told him, once again not thinking much of it. “I think she said his name was like Brent or something, I don’t know - I wasn’t really listening.” Dustin admitted. Steve’s heart sunk slightly, floating slowly to the bottom of his feet like a paper falling to the floor.

“You mean Brett?” Robin spoke up, her eyebrow perked curiously. One thing about her not being in the popular crowd, she learned to observe and gather her information that way. She could clearly see how Steve felt about Ophelia. Whenever she came into the store on her break, his brown eyes would light up like a kid on Christmas. He would constantly bring her up. He could be scrubbing the staff toilet and find a way to bring Ophelia up. She was almost positive that Steve was head over heels for her.

“Yeah-yeah, that sounds right.” Dustin nodded, not paying much attention as he scanned over the ice cream tubs in the cooler.

“Oh man, that guy’s been hooked on her for like two years, I heard he took the job at Tower Records because he heard that she was going to be working there.” Robin informed them. Steve could have sworn he had died right then and there. He felt strangely possessive and protective over the eldest Henderson since she squared up against Billy and lasted pretty well until she ended up on the floor next to Steve, knocked out. The sight of her beat up face was the last thing Steve saw before he finally clocked out.

If he was being completely honest, he had developed a crush on her way before Nancy. He would always see her floating around the halls of the school with a bright smile, always saying hi to everyone. It was like she was friends with the entire school population. You’d be hard pressed to find someone who didn’t like Ophelia Henderson, but somehow, Steve hung out with the only two people who didn’t. They despised the girl. Thought she was too nice, too good even though everyone at school has seen her knocking shot after shot back at parties. When he had developed feelings for Nancy, he had thought his feelings for Ophelia were long gone, but seeing her taking no shit from Billy and fighting the Demodogs alongside him last year proved him semi-wrong, instead of a crush, he had a fierce need to protect her and keep her way from any guy who he deemed not right for her (which was pretty much all of them).

As if on cue, she floated into the parlor with a large smile on her face. “Hey everyone!” She cheered, walking up to her brother and Steve. Steve looked at her, his own smile stretching on his face. He could practically feel his face light up at the sight of her. She smiled brightly at him, rolling up onto the balls of her feet excitedly.

“Hey, Leah, Dustin said Brett wanted to talk to you, what’d he say?” Robin asked, curious to see what the development of the love triangle that was brewing. Only an idiot couldn’t see that Steve and Ophelia both liked each other and you would have to be living under a rock not to realize that Brett Morris also chased after the oblivious girl.

Ophelia smiled wider - if that was even possible - at the question, her eyes lightning up with excitement. Steve gazed at her expression, wishing he could have caused it. “He wants to hang out with me, as a date!” She exclaimed, walking between her brother and Steve to stand in front of the counter. Steve wanted to die at this news. Brett Morris was a loser - a scrawny, entitled loser who flew through girls like crazy. He had no place going on a date with someone as pure and sweet as Ophelia. He wouldn’t appreciate the beauty of her eyes, swirling with different colours and sparkling with light. Would he fully understand just how precious her laughter was?

“Really? That’s awesome.” Robin smiled at the excited girl.

“Yeah, I know! I have to go get a new outfit,” She gushed, whirling around to look at Dustin and Steve. “I’ll be back later to get him, do not hype him up on sugar, understand be Harrington?” She told him, not sticking around long enough to get an answer, instead rushing back out of the parlor. Steve pressed his lips into a fine line, his nose flared. Robin looked at him with an amused smile, ready for the chaos of a love triangle.

***

Ophelia sauntered back into Scoops, looking at the rush to see Robin manning the counter alone, Steve and her brother nowhere to be seen. “Hey, Robin, where did Steve take my brother?” She asked as Erica and her group of Erica clones walked out. Robin looked towards her, a stressed out look in her eyes.

“They’re in the back,” She told her, nudging her head towards the door as she walked towards it herself. Ophelia rushed around the counter, following Robin into the back room as she burst through the door. “All right, babysitting time is over, you need to get in there.” Robin told Steve walking into the room.

“Yeah, and it’s time for us to go Dustin.” Ophelia told her brother. The two girls stopped, looking at the two boys. Steve backed up to stand beside Dustin who was at the table, facing them. Their eyes were wide and scared, almost as if they were caught doing something they shouldn’t have been. Steve held a half-eaten banana in his hand, his cheeks pushed out with bits of banana in them, mid-chew. She looked at them oddly, knowing that nothing good could come of this.

“Hey! My board,” Robin exclaimed, whirling around to look at Steve and Dustin. Ophelia looked over at her to see her standing by a board on the wall that seemed to hold the Russian characters on it. “That was important data, Shitbirds!” Ophelia rolled her eyes at that. It wasn’t important data to her, in fact, maybe now that the board was erased, the game would stop and Ophelia could find the anecdote for the poison.

“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin told her, earning a glare from his sister. Steve nodded along, eating the rest of his banana and tossing the peel to the table in front of Dustin.

“Oh yeah, and how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?” She challenged, walking to stand in front of the table.

“What Russians?” Ophelia asked, suddenly very concerned. Steve and Dustin looked at each other with startled looks.

“Your brother intercepted a Russian transmission using some sort of radio and they plan to translate the transmission and become American Heroes.” Robin told her. Ophelia nodded slowly, taking the information in.

“How does she know about the Russians?” Dustin whispered to Steve.

“I don’t know.” Steve spoke through a mouth full of banana, shrugging his shoulders. His brown eyes were wide, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. Under other circumstances, Ophelia would think he looked cute, but not when they were trying to translate a Russian transmission.

“You told her about-”

“It wasn’t me!” Steve defended himself, cutting Dustin off.

“Hello! I can hear you, actually I can hear everything. You are both extremely loud,” Robin broke the news to them. “You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape, and you’re trying to translate it, but haven’t figured out a single word because you didn’t realize that Russian’s use a completely different alphabet than we do,” She rattled off. Dustin and Steve looked at each other in shock before looking back at Robin. “Is that about right?” She asked. Ophelia stepped up, standing beside her. If these two idiots were getting into something then so was she. They were pretty much a package deal at this point.

Robin lunged forward, trying to swipe the tape off the table, but Steve grabbed it before her. “Woah - Oh! What do you think you’re doing?” Steve asked her with a crazed look in his eyes. Ophelia raised her eyebrows at it.

“I wanna hear it!” Robin bounced slightly, showing more enthusiasm that she ever does when doing her job.

“I do too.” Ophelia told them, walking over and pulling out a chair from the table, sitting down in the spot in front of Steve. Steve shook his head at her.

“Why?” Both Dustin and Steve asked at the same time, mostly directed to Robin. They could see why Ophelia would want to, since she had been by Dustin’s side since Will’s disappearance.

“Cause maybe I can help,” Robin shrugged. “I am fluent in four languages, you know?” She disclosed to them proudly. Ophelia looked over at her, impressed.

“Russian?” Dustin asked, intrigued. Robin leaned closer to him.

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.” She told him. Steve and Dustin looked excited, making Ophelia shake her head, slapping her hand to her forehead.

“Oh-ho-ho!” Steve exclaimed.

“Holy shit!” Dustin smiled wide, thinking that she actually spoke Russian to them. Robin straightened up, her face blank while Ophelia was questioning her brother’s sanity.

“That was pig-latin, Digus,” She told him, making their smiles fall. Steve looked down at Dustin, slapping him with the banana peel that he had picked up for some reason, muttering ‘idiot’ under his breath, not wanting to admit that he also thought Robin was speaking Russian. Robin sat across the table from Ophelia. “But, I speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.” Robin argued her case.

“I also speak fluent French and a little latin and, don’t forget, I’ve saved you two before.” Ophelia reminded them, giving them a knowing look. Steve and Dustin looked at each other, unsure if they should let them help. Steve definitely didn’t want to let Ophelia help. It was too dangerous, it went against every fiber in his being telling him to protect her.

“Come on, it’s your turn to sling ice cream and my turn to translate - I don’t even want credit, I’m just bored!” Robin groaned to Steve, sliding the ice cream scoop across the table towards him. The bell from the counter dinged, the customer wanting service. Steve looked at her hand before looking at Dustin. The bell dinged again making him sigh and grab the scoop, placing the tape back on the table again. He glanced at Dustin again as the younger boy shrugged, not seeing how the two girls couldn’t help them since they have yet to figure out anything so far. Shifting his eyes to Robin, seeing her pleading with him, but what made him bend like a hot spoon was when he looked at Ophelia. Her big eyes looking at him hopefully but with just enough glare that dared him to try and say no to them.

“Fine, you two can help.” He grumbled, making his way out the door. Robin and Ophelia cheered, Robin scooping the tape recorder up. Steve huffed, defeated. He didn’t like the idea of her being involved with this. The past two years, he wasn’t able to stop her from getting involved with the Upside Down because she knew about it before him both times; this time, he knew about it before her so he had thought he could keep her out of it, but boy was he wrong.

36 notes · View notes

67-chevy-baby · 5 years

Text

Remedy

Pairing - Jared x Reader

Tags - Slight angst, FLUFFFFFF, language, and I think that’s it.

Word Count - 2,664

Beta - @winecatsandpizza

Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly

The Song I Chose - Off My Mind by Radio Company

Written for - @saxxxology’s Vol 1 Writing Challenge

A/N - So, I couldn’t find much about Jared’s sister. I don’t think she’s married, but just so y’all know I made up Trent, Max, and Macee. Also, there may be a part 2 to this. It’s my first Jared fic, and I’m not sure I write him well. At any rate, I hope y’all enjoy it, and I especially hope you like this Saxxy. I really tried to make this good. :)

To say you’d become a failure to your parents was an understatement.

From the moment you dropped out of college to pursue your real dream, they’d cut all ties with you. Honestly, it didn’t come as a surprise considering all they seemed to care about was what they wanted you to succeed in. If it didn’t benefit them, then they weren’t interested.

Finally realizing their true intentions was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You packed what little belongings you had and left for Texas, leaving your home-town in Ohio behind in the rearview mirror. The beat-to-hell car you inherited lasted you until the outskirts of Dallas, so you decided to hole up in a hotel with the last bit of savings you had.

After checking in and grabbing some snacks from the vending machine in the lobby, you headed to your room and splayed out on the bed. You scrolled through local jobs as you munched on a Snickers bar. Nothing really jumped out at you, but this wasn’t a time in your life where it was rational to be picky. If you were going to pursue becoming a singer, then you needed some cash to get you started.

Nothing really piqued your interest around Dallas, so you decided to span your search further. After an hour of sifting through different job opportunities, you finally came across one that caught your eye.

Full-Time Nanny in Avery Ranch Start Date: Mid-January 2020 Children ages: 5 and 2 months Hours/Rate: M-F 7:30am-5pm - $18/hr Serious Inquiries Only: (512)586-2463

Other than singing, babysitting your sister’s kids was something else you thoroughly enjoyed. Her husband had cheated on her, and they divorced soon after so you became a constant in their lives. Not that you weren’t before, but since you were a full-time student at the time you often watched them during your off time.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you called the number and waited. By the third ring, you were starting to get discouraged but then a woman’s cheerful voice answered.

“Hello?”

Talking on the phone was never a strong suit of yours. Especially not knowing who was on the other end, it always gave you anxiety. Taking a deep breath, you stammered out a response.

“Um, h-hi. My name’s Y/N and I saw your add about the Nanny position. I’d like to apply if it’s still available.”

You heard the woman clear her throat and some rustling before she came back on the line.

“Hi, Y/N! My name's Megan. Yes, the position is still available! Can you come over tomorrow at noon? My husband and I would like to meet over coffee to get to know you a bit better before we introduce you to the children.”

Well, you weren’t expecting that, but the desperate situation you were in won over the butterflies fluttering against your abdomen.

“Y-Yeah! I can do that!”

The warmth in the woman’s response was evident and it eased any doubts you had bouncing around in your head.

“Great! We’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. I’ll text you the address and feel free to wear something comfortable. Lord knows with two kids I won't be wearing my best dress."

You bid her goodbye and sighed into your pillow. Despite uprooting your life merely a day ago, things were starting to come together, and for once, you couldn't be happier.

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

Jared sighed as he walked through the airport. Another season of Supernatural wrapped and he was finally on his home turf again. The familiarity of the Texas air nipped his bare skin as he headed for the awaiting taxi. Tonight, he'd rest up and then tomorrow he'd go and see his siblings.

The ride to his studio apartment was short, but it allowed him to send a few texts and emails anyway. He tipped the cab driver generously and took the elevator up to his floor.

His apartment wasn't much, but it was enough for him. The entry area was small, bearing a hook on the wall to hang his keys, a closet for his coat and shoes, and a couple of light switches. Just off to the left was the living room. He had a black leather sectional and a nice entertainment center where he could watch the latest Cowboys game comfortably. The kitchen wasn't enormous, but he didn't need it to be. It had everything he needed and all the appliances were new enough. His bedroom was just the way he left it, his king-size bed unmade and his laundry in the basket by the bathroom door.

Jared tossed his suitcase on the bed and padded to the kitchen for a beer. He'd start laundry tomorrow. It wasn't like he had anyone to impress or anything. Ever since Supernatural gained its popularity, he'd shied away from serious relationships because he barely had time for himself let alone a significant other. Settling into the couch, he flipped through the channels before stopping on the movie Die Hard, one of his favorite Christmas movies. Before he knew it, he'd dozed off, his hard work and jet lag finally catching up to him.

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

You groaned and shut off your alarm. How was it already 6 AM? Forcing yourself to emerge from your warm blanket cocoon, you padded to the bathroom praying a hot shower would wake you up. Mornings were far from your favorite thing, and if you were going to meet with your potential employer then you needed to be somewhat presentable.

Once you were dressed and had some sustenance, you wore a simple pair of jeans and a comfortable top. Your hair fell neatly at your shoulders and once you applied a small amount of makeup, you looked less like a zombie than you imagined. Remembering to grab your card key, you slid on your flats and headed to the address that Megan had texted you.

The drive was nearly three hours, but you didn't mind. It allowed you to decompress and listen to your favorite Spotify playlist. Luckily, the rental car you managed to get had Bluetooth, otherwise you'd have to deal with the local stations.

Finally, you pulled into the driveway and allowed yourself to take a few deep breaths. The house was pretty big, two-story with a two-car garage. The yard was well kept and you could see the faint outlines of playground equipment down the street. Overall, it looked to be a nice, quiet neighborhood.

Crisp air fanned your face as you walked to the front door. A couple knocks later you were face to face with a sweet-looking young woman. She smiled warmly at you before inviting you inside.

"Hi! You must be Y/N. It's so good to meet you."

Smiling back at her, you shook her hand and then noticed a taller figure walk up behind her. He nodded at you and wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist.

“I’m her husband, Trent. Please come in and make yourself comfortable.”

You followed them inside and gasped as they led you into what had to be their living room. Your eyes wandered and marveled at how cozy and elegant everything looked. Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn’t help but think this couple had a lot of money.

“You have a beautiful home, Mr. and Mrs. …”

It only just hit you that you didn’t know their last name. Megan brought you a cup of some wonderful smelling coffee and sat down on the love seat across from you.

“Stevenson. Our last name is Stevenson. Thank you for your kind words. We moved here a little over a year ago so I could be closer to my niece.”

You nodded and moaned happily at the taste of the coffee. This was one of the many things you enjoyed in life, a nice hot cup of coffee.

“Oh, does your family live close? That’s always nice, having family that lives close by. I used to watch my older sister’s kids all the time while she worked. They’re in school full-time now, so that’s why I decided to move here to hopefully pursue my dream.”

It amazed you that you felt this comfortable around the Stevenson’s so quickly. Normally, your anxiety would get the better of you and it’d be like pulling teeth to get you to share personal things about your life. Megan nodded and scooted over to allow room for Trent to sit by her.

“Yes, one of my older brother’s lives about fifteen minutes from here. He’s not home often though due to his job. He’s an actor and really only gets time off during the summer and the holidays. My other older brother lives about forty-five minutes from here. He’s an Orthopedic surgeon.”

“Wow.” You breathed. “That’s really awesome! I have always wanted to be a singer, but my love of kids made me want to wait a little longer to try and become successful at it. I probably would have had kids of my own by now if I was fortunate in the relationship department. I seem to always find the ones who are either already married or live in their Mom’s basement.” The three of you shared a laugh and you watched as Trent scrolled through his phone.

“This is our son, Max. He just turned five about a month ago, and in his lap is our two-month-old daughter Macee.”

You looked at them both in awe. “They’re beautiful! Max sure looks like he loves Macee a lot.” Just as you handed Trent his phone back, a small voice sounded from the foot of the stairs.

“Mommy? I can’t sweep…”

The three of you looked to see little Max standing with his teddy bear and rubbing his eyes. Megan opened her arms and set him on her lap, pressing her lips to his forehead.

“Hey, baby. You can sit with Mommy while we talk to miss Y/N.”

Your ears perked up at her words. Was she giving you the job? Both her and Trent shared a look and you could tell they were having a wordless conversation. Finally, Megan turned and gave you an excited smile.

“Y/N, if you’re up for it, Trent and I would love to have you as our Nanny. You seem very attentive and dependable. We have a spare room that you can stay in for the time being, and you’ll have your own bathroom.”

“Thank you both so much! I can’t wait to work with you and get to know your adorable children. When would you like me to start?”

Megan gave you a folder with a few papers in it to go over.

“These are just a few more things about us and the kids that I want you to know. You can bring your things over tomorrow night and then on Monday you can start.”

You bid Trent and Megan goodbye and headed back to your hotel. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You’d only been here a short time and you had a place to stay and a job. Now all you needed to get was a car and you’d better off than you were before you started your journey.

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

The sound of his phone’s text tone woke Jared from his slumber. He typed a quick response to his sister and stretched his tired muscles. After taking a quick shower and getting dressed he grabbed his wallet and keys before heading out the door.

His sister said to be at her house in a couple of hours, but he didn’t see the harm in getting there early. It would give him time to play with Max and Macee for a little while. The drive there wasn’t very long, and soon he was walking up the sidewalk to their front door.

He let himself in and could saw his sister in the back yard playing with the kids. Before he could head through the house out the back door, something caught his attention. A sweet melodic voice flowed through the upstairs hallway that made his heartbeat quicken. He moved so he could see better and caught sight of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She had long brown hair that waved a bit at the ends, was probably about five foot one, and her voice was mesmerizing.

He watched as she cleaned the kids’ playroom, her hips shimmying to the music she was listening to. It was then that he recognized the song she was singing. It was one of the songs from Jensen’s new album! Standing in the foyer, he let himself listen to you a bit longer.

Oh, and how do I get you off my mind

With you back in my bed

How do I get you off my mind

Can’t have you living in my head

You can only stay awake so long

While deciding what is true

I lean in for a kiss upon your shoulder

Realize it wouldn’t do, not with you

So, how do I get you off my mind

With you back in my bed

How do I get you off my mind

Can’t have you living in my head

Unbeknownst to him, his sister was watching him watch her, the biggest smirk on her face knowing that you had caught her brother’s eye.

“Her name’s Y/N, and she’s Trent and I’s nanny.”

Jared whirled around to meet his sister’s knowing gaze. He knew he’d been caught staring and was sure he was blushing furiously.

“That’s ah… I’m uh… glad you found someone suitable for the kids, Meg. I bet she’s great.”

“Uh-huh… I haven’t seen you look at someone like that since… well, since ever really. You like her.”

“What?! That’s… I mean… I don’t even know her. I just… her singing was um… really good!”

By now, you had finished cleaning the playroom and was prepared to relieve Megan so she could go out with her family. You heard her talking to someone and you assumed it was Trent.

“Hey, Megan! I finished cleaning the pla-”

Your words were caught in your throat as you looked down into the foyer. There, standing mere feet from you was your celebrity crush since you saw him on Gilmore Girls. Jared Padalecki. It took only a moment for things to click in your brain and you deduced that he and Megan were siblings.

“Y/N, this is one of my older brother’s Jared, Jared this is Y/N.”

“H-Hi…” You squeaked. He gave you a boyish grin and you forgot how to breathe. “I’m uh… just going to get a few things from my room…”

Once you were behind the closed door, you let out a shaky breath. How in the fuck did you manage to get a job at Jared Padalecki’s sister’s house?! Taking a deep breath you grabbed the Tonka set you bought Max and headed downstairs to the great room to play with him and Macee. Jared was in the kitchen with Megan, and you were lucky enough to be immensely distracted by Max to hear what they were saying.

“I’m telling you Jare, you should ask her out! I give her weekends off, and I don’t think she knows anyone here but us. I think it would be nice to show her around.”

Jared rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know Megan… I just met he-”

“Oh cut the crap, Jared. You can make all the excuses you want, but you and I both know you like her. C’mon! Take a chance! She’s cute and you’re single. If you keep waiting around for the right person, then who knows how long you’ll be waiting?”

Jared contemplated his sister’s words as he eyed you through the kitchen. Who was he kidding? Megan was right. He sighed and swallowed thickly as he headed into the Great room.

“Here goes nothing…”

#saxxxology vol 1 writing challenge #jared padalecki x reader #jared x reader #'pala writes

74 notes · View notes

kyufiber-moved · 5 years

Text

shampoo; hendery

member: hendery / wayv, nct

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst

word count: 2.4k

summary: the two of you have been inseparable since 8th grade, best friends and nothing more. then one tipsy kiss changes everything, and you aren’t sure whether you’re just friends who made a drunk mistake, or something more.

(a/n: thank you to miss @markheehee who gave me the idea from when she sent in her hendery dream !!! also i’m trying out a new scenario post theme inspired by @000609 and @nctream i hope y’all don’t mind !!) / (spotify playlist)

He’s never been this close to you. Not like this.

You close your eyes. Let your lips part—

He’s right there, you can feel it. You can smell his shampoo, the green-apple scented one he’s used for the past three years.

It never made you feel like this before.

And in a moment of pure bravery, you let a whisper escape your lips: “Kiss me.”

The bell finally rings, signaling the end of class, and you stretch in your seat. Hendery appears in front of your desk, an excited grin sprawled across his lips.

“What?” you yawn.

“Did you hear Johnny Seo is throwing a party this weekend?” he doesn’t attempt to conceal the excitement in his voice, and the boyishness of it makes you chuckle.

“What’s with you and that kid?”

“He’s cool! And he invited me— and you, by extension— to his party this weekend! Do you know how big that is?”

“You know I’m not that big of a—”

“You’re a big, fat liar.” he scoffs. “You spent the entirety of Spring Break some level of drunk.”

You scowl, gathering your things and standing up. “That was different. That’s Spring Break.”

“And this is the weekend!” he slings your bookbag over his other shoulder. “You said yourself you need a break from studying,”

As the two of you pass through the doorway out into the hallway, you sigh. “I did say that,”

“So you’ll come?”

“I guess. My mom’s working late, so she won’t notice if we crash at my place after.”

He flashes you another grin, slinging your arm through his. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get to the cafeteria before all the good food is gone.”

Sometime later, the two of you sit at a table in the far corner of the lunchroom, munching on cheeseburgers.

Hendery’s got his eyes locked on the popular table, where Johnny and several other upperclassmen sit.

“Can you let up on your obsession with Johnny for like, two seconds?”

“I’m not staring at him, dumbass.”

“Then who? Ouuuu... A girl, perhaps?” you nudge him teasingly, and the sheepish expression on his face tells you you’re right. “Who is it?”

“Nobody,” he mumbles, lowering his eyes to his sandwich.

“Tell me!” you whine. “Am I your best friend or not? I won’t tell anyone!”

He turns a light shade of pink, pretending to be annoyed, but you see a small smile peeking through. “Jeon Soyeon,”

You gasp, your grin widening. “Jeon Soyeon? You’ve got to be kidding me— she’s too much woman for you to handle,” you shake your head dramatically, and he shoves you.

“She’s softer than she lets on,” he rolls his eyes.

“Oh, man. He’s in deep,” you narrate, chewing a bite of burger and eyes twinkling with mischief. “He’s whipped,”

“If you don’t stop, I’m leaving.”

“You won’t,”

“I will,”

“You’re too much of a pussy to eat alone.”

“I’ll go eat with Soyeon,”

At that, you burst out laughing. “Please! I’d love to see that.”

He turns away with a huff and angrily takes a bite of his burger, making you chuckle.

“This is the wrong house,”

“It’s not! The GPS says this is it.”

“I’m telling you, Hendery. It’s wrong,”

“Maybe I put in the wrong address...?”

“Or maybe he gave you the wrong address on purpose.”

You turn to look at your best friend in the passenger seat with a deadpan expression. He returns your gaze, eyes wide. “He wouldn’t have, right?”

You sigh, resigned, and pat his shoulder. “You’re so much dumber than you look, honestly.”

He scoffs, swiping his phone open. “I’ll just check— oh.”

“What?” you glance over curiously.

On his phone’s screen is his Instagram dashboard, and the first photo is a candid of Soyeon making out with Johnny.

“Oh...” you trail off, pursing your lips.

You grab the phone from his hand and click it off, slipping it in your back pocket. “She didn’t deserve you anyway, man. Come on, let’s go to the arcade and kick some Pac-Man ass, or something.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips as you start the car, and before long, the two of you are in the local arcade, slamming away at the game controls and yelling your hearts out in the middle of the night.

An hour or so later, the two of you are too tired — and too broke — to continue, so you grab your things and head back out to his car.

Just as he’s opening the passenger door, you smack him on the shoulder.

“Ow! What?”

You point at one of the only building still lit up in the small strip of stores, and you shoot him a mischievous grin.

The words “Liquor Store” shine in neon at the end of your finger.

“You couldn’t go to the party and get drunk,” you offer. “This is fate.”

“This is a coincidence,”

“Stop being a pessimist, you know that’s my job in this friendship.” you retort and drag him towards the liquor store.

“Wait, but I don’t have any money—”

“It’s fine, I brought my wallet.”

The two of you head inside, you pushing him as he protests.

Once you’ve picked out what drinks you want, you approach the counter, and that’s when Hendery freezes.

“What? Why aren’t you moving?” you mutter, trying to nudge him forward, but he spins around in place.

“Do you have your ID?”

You blink. “I left it at home,”

He purses his lips, eyes sheepish, and lowers his voice. “Mine’s gone.”

“What?”

“Should we go and get yours?” he asks, and you scoff.

“That’s a twenty-minute drive away and a twenty-minute drive back. By then, this place’ll be closed.”

“So what are we supposed to do then?” he asks, voice rising a little.

You lean in, a not-so-innocent grin winding across your lips. “Run for it, duh.”

“But—”

“Go! Go! Go!” you shriek, and dart out the door with bottles in hand. Hendery doesn’t think twice before following you at a sprint, and the two of you book it to his car, the clerk shouting after you the whole time.

You hop in your seats, slam the doors shut, and speed off in mere seconds, shouting and screaming the whole way.

Once you’ve made it a safe distance, you pull over and the laughter sets in. Soon, you can’t stop the incessant giggling and both your stomachs’ are aching.

When you finally catch your breath, you suck in some air and glance sideways at your best friend. “My place?”

He nods, giggles still escaping his lips.

You take a sip of one of the beer cans Hendery got at the liquor store, hissing after it slides down your throat.

There’s a redness to your cheeks that reveals this isn’t your first can.

Setting your drink down on your side table, you slump against Hendery who’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of your bed.

The clock on your bedside table reads 1:27 AM, and he yawns.

He nudges you, muttering to get off, but you make a sound of protest and glom onto him even tighter.

“Y/n~” he whines. “I’m tired,”

“Hendery~” you mimic him, “I love you~”

“You must be really drunk not to pretend you hate me,” he snickers, cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“I don’t pretend I hate you! I’m nice to you all the time!” you protest, sitting up and grabbing at his cheeks.

“Y/n, sto~p!” he groans, drawing out the last word.

“Not until you admit I’m nice to you all the time!” you pout, hanging over him.

He whines loudly, trying to shove you off, but you just jump into his lap for better access to pinch his cheeks and the both of you topple over onto your bed.

You pout slightly at his suddenly serious expression as he stares up you.

“Are you mad?” you ask, the room swirling a bit.

As you study his face, the thought occurs to you that you haven’t seen him drink all that much, and it takes quite a bit of alcohol to get him that drunk.

So why are his cheeks bright pink?

You glance down at your position, and you realize you’re straddling him— on your bed, no less.

Heat rushes to your face. You scramble off of him, darting to the edge of the bed and spouting stuttered apologies.

The sound of him sitting up reaches your ears, but you don’t turn until you hear him quietly call your name.

Your eyes meet like they usually do, but something is different this time.

His gaze lingers on yours for a little too long, something deep behind his eyes exposed in the rawness of the moment.

What’s different?

The lighting is dim, but you’ve been together in the dead of night countless times before. It’s unusually quiet, but comfortable silences are nothing new for you two. You’re touching, skin against skin, but you’ve been best friends for years— you’ve made contact before.

Maybe the difference is the look in his eyes as they hold yours; the feeling in your chest as the silence sinks deeper and deeper.

A question lingers just behind your lips, but you’re too afraid to break the silence; afraid that this moment might shatter if you do.

His big brown eyes, so comforting in the past, now make your whole body itch with self-awareness. You start to worry about blemishes on your face and skin, and if your hair is falling just the right way, when he reaches out a hand.

His fingertips brush your cheek, catching a few stray strands of hair.

His lips part and his hand slips behind your neck.

As he shifts closer, your heart beats out of your chest so frantically you’re sure he must hear it. But his eyes never leave yours, and he’s only inches away.

He’s never been this close to you. Not like this.

You close your eyes. Let your lips part—

He’s right there, you can feel it. You can smell his shampoo, the one he’s used for the past three years.

It never made you feel like this before.

And in a moment of pure bravery, you let a whisper escape your lips: “Kiss me.”

He does, and you realize you’ve never wanted anything more than what’s happening at this very moment.

Your hands find his shoulders, and his fingers tangle in your hair.

All you can hear is the pounding in your own chest and heavy breaths intermixing.

Sometime later, you stare up at the dark ceiling of your bedroom, the blurriness of intoxication now gone.

The room is empty. The only signs that someone else was here with you before is the faint aroma of someone else’s shampoo on your comforter and your puffy lips.

You blink, still not sure you didn’t dream what just happened in this room.

You don’t know when he left, or for how long you’ve been laying here in silence, but you remember the kiss in vivid detail as it replays over and over in your head.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, you shut your eyes and try to drift off to sleep.

The next day, what happened the night before is still the one and only thought preoccupying your mind. So much so, you find it difficult to pay attention in class.

Your mind is running at a million miles an hour.

Are we still best friends or something more? Are we dating now? Did he mean that kiss, or was it just a drunken mistake? Was he kissing me because he was upset over Soyeon or because he likes me?

But most of all, what is he going to say when we see each other?

As you walk to your locker, you chew your lip in anxiety. He’s waiting for you there already.

You both blink at each other in silence for a moment when he opens his mouth, and an avalanche of words tumbles out of your mouth.

“What happened last night was a mistake,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “We were drunk, and you were upset over Soyeon, and things happen. I think it’d be better if we both just forgot about it.”

You shove your textbook into your locker and slam it shut, glancing at him after.

He’s staring at the wall of lockers when he nods in agreement, and you stride off down the hallway without sparing him a second look.

Later that day in class, a text pops up on your phone from Hendery.

from: mother hen 🐥 — 12:13 PM

yo you wanna get mcdonalds tonight ?? my annoying cousins are staying at my house this week and i need to get outta there

to: mother hen 🐥 — 12:13 PM

👌👌👌

You exchange a smile with Hendery, sliding into the passenger seat of his car that night. The lights from inside the stores shine out onto the pavement as you drive, the radio playing faintly.

The two of you pull into the McDonald’s drive-thru and order much more than either of you can eat, chuckling at the disgusted faces of the McDonald’s employees.

He finds a spot in the back of the corner of the parking lot and the car engine sputters off, sinking the car into silence.

As you chew on some fries, he takes a sip of coke.

“I’m sorry,” he says without glancing over at you.

Your head swivels. “What?”

“Last night. I'm sorry,”

You’re silent for a moment.

“Are you upset?” he questions with an unreadable tone.

“No,” you retort, looking out the side window. “I just don’t know how you can be so calm and unaffected. You may think it’s okay to just kiss people whenever you feel like it, but you have no idea how much that affects people. My first kiss is now forever going to be a mistake. Something that never meant to happen.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” he speaks up firmly. “Stop saying that.”

“What else am I supposed to call it? A drunken adventure?”

“I wasn’t drunk!” he bursts out. “I was completely sober. It wasn’t because I was drunk, and it wasn’t because I was upset over Soyeon. I don’t even like Soyeon!”

“Why then?”

“Why does anyone kiss anyone?” he shoots back. “It only counts as a mistake, huh? Fine then.”

He leans across the console and kisses you firmly, leaving you stunned.

Just as he goes to pull away, your limbs move on their own and pull him back into you so you can kiss him back.

In the back of your mind, it registers that he tastes like Coca-Cola.

You don’t mind at all.

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sunkissedpages · 6 years

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We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Five || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: I know it hasn’t quite been a whole week since I posted Part 4, but there are a few new faces around here and I wanted to get another part up asap!!

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, injury, angst y’all already know what the fuck is going on

What I listened to while writing: this italian music playlist on Spotify bc...Italy

Word Count: 3.9k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

After what felt like an eternity Tom’s voice broke the silence. “Are we really doing this?”

“Do we have another choice?” you asked.

“Not that I can think of,” he sighed. You felt him roll towards you on the bed. You stiffened even further. “We’re adults, this shouldn’t be a big deal, right?”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just try and get some sleep, Tom. You’re filming for thirteen and a half hours tomorrow.”

“God, do you ever turn it off?”

You had the urge to turn towards him so that you could see his face, but you resisted. It felt too intimate, like if you did you’d be crossing some invisible line that you couldn’t come back from. So you stayed on your back, hoping he couldn’t read your expression in the dark. “What do you mean?”

“The handler, do you ever turn it off? Like when you close your eyes do you just see excel spreadsheets and schedules? Are you ever a normal person, or are you always this anal about everything?”

That stung. Just when you thought you had established some sort of understanding Tom had to be an asshole again. You heard Tom inhale sharply, probably regretting how harsh he sounded, but no apology came. You didn’t respond and bit your lip, trying to fight off angry tears that were threatening to fall.

You rolled out of bed, pillow in hand.

“Where are you going?” Tom asked when he felt the weight on the bed shift.

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” you replied bitterly.

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” he said and you scoffed audibly. “No, that’s not how I meant it. I, I’m sorry! Just, you-”

“Don’t worry about it, Tom,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. “You’re my boss, we shouldn’t share a bed anyway, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You felt Tom’s eyes on you as you moved around the hotel room. You didn’t know what was going through his mind, but he didn’t say anything. You found extra blankets and even more pillows in the closet that you laid on the floor next to the bed. The floor was hard, like you’d anticipated, but what you hadn’t been expecting was how cold it would be. The carpet must only be a thin layer over a hard slab of concrete. With a huge exasperated sigh you sat up and crawled over to your open suitcase to put on a sweatshirt.

“Y/N, come back to bed.” Tom’s voice was gruff with fatigue.

You fought a shiver. Those words, in that tone, without context, sounded very sensual. But there was context. Months of it. So you only let it throw you off for a quarter of a second before responding.

“I’m fine, Tom. Go to sleep.”

If Tom had mentioned last night to either his brother or Harrison, they didn’t say anything about it to you. You were all huddled in one of the crew tents with the space heaters, standing behind the monitors watching Tom and Zendaya film a scene in the middle of the street.

Waking up this morning had been hell. You’d been in and out of sleep all night so you were exhausted. You and Tom had both lain awake for hours without speaking to each other. Your back hurt, your everything hurt. You’d been taking Advil all day for the pain in your muscles that was the result of sleeping on the ground.

“Tom’s really off today,” Haz muttered to Harry. “He keeps messing up his lines, and his accent keeps slipping.”

“Yeah I know,” Harry agreed. “I dunno what’s the matter with him.”

“Maybe he’s tired,” you suggested even though they hadn’t been talking to you.

“Said he slept fine,” Harry shrugged.

“Like a baby,” Harrison added and you had your answer about what the boys knew about last night. Not only had he not told them, he’d lied to them. But why? Your face must have given something away because suddenly both of them were zeroed in on you.

“What?” Harry asked. “Did he say something different to you?”

“Uh no, sorry” you lied. You were shit at lying and you might have been able to get away with it with Harry, but Haz had known you longer and furrowed his brows at you with suspicion. “My back just hurts,” not a lie, “I slept on it funny last night.”

Harrison’s expression changed from one of skepticism to one of concern. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No I’m fine, thanks.”

Everyone turned back to the monitors and you breathed a sigh of relief. Tom was still struggling out there and as he fucked up more and more Zendaya would shoot the camera glances like she was on Parks and Rec. A crowd of other crew had gathered around the monitor to watch and all murmured to each other about what was taking so long to move on to the next scene. To your surprise your immediate instinct was to defend Tom to them rather than join in, but you kept your mouth shut. Come on, you thought to yourself, get it together. No one was going to be happy with him if he extended their thirteen and a half hour work day.

After several more takes the scene finally seemed to be going pretty well until Tom tripped on a step and smacked his face onto the side railing. There was an audible ooh from everyone who was watching around you, but you didn’t stick around to hear anything else they had to say because you were already running. Haz and Harry were right on your heels, and they each passed you, but you kept your pace. Every muscle in your body was screaming at you to stop, but you couldn’t, you could worry about your own pain later.

By the time you got over to your boss he was already surrounded by medics and his friends. You stood on the edges of the crowd, trying to see what was going on. He’d hit his head from what you could tell. He looked like he wanted to cry.

You pushed through the crowd and made your way over to him. “Can everyone but the medics move back a little?” you shouted, taking control. You were only half expecting anyone to listen to you, but everyone did and took a few steps back to give Tom more room.

One of the medics ushered you closer and had you crouch down next to Tom. “He blacked out for a second. We’re going to need to check him for a concussion,” he said to you, a little out of earshot of Tom.

You looked at your watch. Filming was already a little behind. “Can you you do that to him here?”

The guy shook his head. “He needs to see a neurologist at the hospital a few miles away. He’s also going to need to rest for a few hours.”

“What’s going on?” Watts asked as he made his way through the crowd. The medic explained the same thing to him. “Fuck me.”

“He’ll be back in a few hours good as new,” the man promised Watts, but he shook his head and turned to you.

“Keep him resting until tomorrow, I’ll push up the scenes with Mysterio to this afternoon instead.”

You bit back a curse. That was going to inconvenience a lot of important people. You hoped they’d be understanding. “Have someone send me the new schedule,” you told Watts then addressed the medic. “I’ll grab his brother and best friend and we can go.”

“Wait what’s going on?” Tom asked the medics frantically as they spoke into their radios and to each other in Italian.

“They’re taking you to the hospital to see if you have a concussion,” you explained when no one else would answer.

“What?” He looked up at you with wild eyes. “No, no I’m fine,” he insisted and started to get up. As soon as he did the medics yelled at him to lay back down until they could get a boat. “I’m fine! I can keep going!” he shouted at them, giving you a desperate look. “Y/N-”

He’d never wanted your help before and it was the one time he did you couldn’t do anything. You felt guilty, but he needed to get to the doctor.

“Tom I want you to get some rest,” Jon said to Tom, crouching down to him.

“No, I can still-”

Watts put a hand out. “Don’t try and be a hero, you’re already playing the greatest one out there. We’re just going to move some scenes around and you’ll be back tomorrow good as new, okay? It’s not worth risking your health over. Take it easy today,” he looked up at you. “Miss Y/L/N, update me throughout the day. Make sure he gets some rest.”

You were a little surprised Jon Watts knew your name but you assured him that you would watch out for Tom. You liked the fact that he cared about his cast and crew. Even though he was upset about the accident and stressed out over rescheduling he hadn’t shown it to Tom because he already knew Tom was beating himself up about it and didn’t want to twist the knife. If you ever got to live out your dream of being a director you hoped you could be like him.

Harry and Haz were allowed to approach Tom after that and you watched them each talk to him. You stood off to the side and saw Tom wipe away tears of frustration and immediately looked away. You couldn’t start feeling sympathy for him now. It was going to effect how you did your job.

The first available boats on the canal were gondolas so Harry and Tom got in the first one with two of the medics while you and Haz got in the second with the other medic. Gondolas were supposed to be romantic. Racing to the emergency room with your boss was the least romantic reason to be in a gondola that you could think of.

You sat in the boat with your head in your hands.

“He’s going to be fine,” Haz assured you. “This isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to him on set before. He broke his nose on Chaos Walking.”

“I know, but this happened on my watch,” you groaned. “Tom is my responsibility.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have anything to do with this. He was just off today and that’s not your fault.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and shut your eyes tight because it very well could’ve been your fault. The fight and the lack of sleep had to at least be contributing factors. Tom had never had an off day like this before. What else could it be?

Tom was checked into the emergency room without much issue and the medics took him back immediately to see about his head. Harry joined you and Haz in the waiting room.

“Typical,” he said and gave half a chuckle as he made his way over to the both of you.

“Figures he’d fuck himself up walking and not doing stunts in the spider-man suit or something,” Haz chimed in.

“Div,” Harry laughed and shook his head.

You couldn’t believe neither of the boys were worried about Tom. From what you seen he’d hit his head pretty hard.

“You alright, Y/N?” Harry asked, noticing how quiet you were.

“Yeah, just a little stressed out.”

“About Tom? He’ll be fine,” Harry said, brushing it off.

“He was crying,” you said softly. “I’ve never seen him cry before.”

Harry cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.

“Want anything from the vending machine, Y/N?” Haz asked, clearly trying to change the subject. “I’m going to get some chocolate probably.”

“I’m good.”

“You should eat something,” he insisted. “Keep your energy up.”

“Fine, I’ll have a KitKat if they have them.”

“And if they don’t?”

“A snickers bar.”

He winked a confirmation and headed off around the corner, leaving you and Harry sitting in silence. You weren’t sure how to describe the mood in the room, but it was uncomfortable and dull, like the life had been sucked out of everything. Maybe that’s how all emergency rooms were, but it felt wrong.

Harrison returned with your KitKat a moment later, but the mood didn’t lift. Soon he was sucked into it too. The three of you, sitting in silence, waiting. You realized Haz and Harry had been joking around about Tom because it was their way of coping. They didn’t want to have to think about what might happen if Tom was seriously injured and you didn’t blame them.

You passed the time by talking to your parents and calling the hotel to see if any rooms had opened up. There was still nothing available, but you asked them to let you know when something did. When you hung up Tom was over at the front desk with the boys being discharged.

You walked over and looked at him expectantly. “I’m fine, stop looking at me like that.”

“Fuck off,” you shot back instinctively, completely forgetting that you were still in the emergency room for his head wound. Tom was in the middle of signing papers, but stopped to raise his eyebrows at you. “Sorry. So you’re completely fine?”

“They said if it is a concussion it’s super minor and that I should be fine by tomorrow. I’m just supposed to rest and keep an eye on how I’m feeling I guess.”

“Turns out your thick skull is good for something,” Harry joked and clapped Tom on the back.

“That was a cheap one, mate,” Tom laughed and shook his head at his brother.

Getting back to the hotel was an ordeal because some fans had seen Tom go into the hospital and were an absolute mess waiting outside the emergency room. Upon checking Twitter you saw that someone had tweeted that he’d died and had to stifle a laugh.

Harry and Haz offered to hang out with Tom in his room, but he told them he just wanted to be alone. Fuck, you’d expected to be at work all day and now you had to spend hours alone with Tom. It was early evening and you weren’t supposed to be back until after midnight. The sun had only just started setting. You might have taken a book down to the lobby or to a cafe around the corner except for the Jon had specifically asked you to keep an eye on Tom and make sure he was resting. You’d much rather give yourself a concussion, but followed him down the hallway and to your room anyway.

“There hasn’t been an update with the rooms,” you informed Tom after the door had shut behind the both of you “so we both have to stay in this one again.” He just nodded.

The room had been straightened while you were out. The bed was made and the blanket you’d slept on was folded neatly beside the pillows. You wondered what housekeeping had thought of the odd setup.

Tom immediately flopped on the bed with a groan. “I can’t believe how much of an idiot I am.” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just ranting out loud so you let him keep going. “The entire schedule had to be move around because of me, Marvel is having to pay the hospital bills, I cried in front of the whole cast and crew-”

“Everyone has an off day,” you offered, taking the armchair.

Tom sat up to look at you. “I had an off morning,” he corrected, “the day was a shit show.”

“You’ll look back on it and laugh.”

“Maybe,” he said reluctantly then suddenly threw himself back on the bed dramatically “fuck, going to work tomorrow is going to be so embarrassing.” He covered his face with his hands.

“The only option is to fake your own death.”

He lifted his hands from his eyes. “It’d never work, people know my face.”

“Plastic surgery.”

“My voice.”

“Half the world doesn’t even realize you’re British you’ll be fine.” Then you remembered the tweet you had seen. “Speaking of faking your own death, thirty thousand people on Twitter already think you’re dead so you should either run with it or fix that.”

“What?!” Tom already had his phone out. “You’re just telling me this now?”

“Oh my god, of course everything is always my fault.”

“Social media is literally in your job description.”

“Sorry I must have been distracted by the possibility of you actually dying!”

“You’re being dramatic, I wasn’t fucking dying!”

“You know what I mean! I was worried about you!”

“...You were worried about me?” Tom asked and as quickly as the bickering had started it came to a screeching halt.

“Uh yeah,” you felt sweaty all of the sudden. You had been worried about him...but only because it was the human thing to do. “Without you I don’t have a job, you know.”

“Wow, for a second I actually thought you cared about me,” Tom said with a smile, though it sounded like he was only half kidding.

“Me? Never.”

“Here how’s this?” Tom finished typing and handed his phone to you.

“‘Hey guys, not dead’? That’s it? You don’t want to make it funnier?”

He shrugged. “It’ll still get at least 50k likes anyway.”

“Asshole.” He laughed. “What about something like ‘sorry guys still alive’?” He made an eh hand motion. “Or...’sorry Anthony and Seb I’m still alive’?”

“That’s brilliant.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Go ahead and tweet it,” he said.

“Me?” you asked.

“Yeah, you already have my phone.”

You quickly typed it out and checked for typos before hitting send. It felt oddly powerful tweeting out to 2.5 million people. You wondered if that’s how Tom felt every time he tweeted something

You tossed the phone back to him on the bed. “I’m going to shower,” you told him. “Unless you want to go first?”

He shook his head. “All yours.”

You took the time to shave and wash your hair more thoroughly. This hotel had surprisingly nice shampoo. By the time you were done the bathroom was completely steamed up. Only once your hair was up in a towel did you realize you’d forgotten to bring a new change of clothes into the bathroom with you.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered to yourself.

You could make one of two choices: put the dirty clothes back on or wrap yourself in a towel to go get your pajamas. Well, there was an unspoken third choice which was to go out into the room completely naked, but there was no way in hell that was happening. You decided to be an adult and wrap yourself in your towel to go get the clothes you’d forgotten. You’d just have to play it cool. Maybe Tom would be asleep.

Obviously with your luck he wasn’t. He was watching Baby Driver on cable when you came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Shut up!” you said defensively and clung to the towel tighter.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I forgot my pajamas, okay?” you huffed with embarrassment.

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal.”

Your cheeks were absolutely on fire as you rifled around in your suitcase for pjs. When you looked back up Tom was averting his eyes and looking at his phone, but he couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin on his face. So much for playing it cool. You were never going to live this down.

Once you were dressed and had somewhat regained you composure you joined Tom back in the room.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“Fine.”

“Are you hungry? We could order room service.”

“Sounds good,” Tom rolled over and snatched the menu off of the nightstand. “What do you want?”

“Do they have spaghetti?” you asked him.

“We’re in Italy.” Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes, they have spaghetti.”

“I can’t read the fucking menu from over here, I didn’t know!”

“Well they have spaghetti, Y/N.”

You ended up both ordering the spaghetti.

By the time the food came the credits to Baby Driver were rolling and Titanic was starting. It was in Italian, but there were English subtitles. You and Tom were sitting on the floor eating your pasta in front of the screen.

“I’ve never seen Titanic,” you admitted.

“Shut the fuck up,” he deadpanned. “It’s a classic!”

“It freaks me out.”

“It’s a romance.”

“All of those people dying is not romantic.”

“Don’t you want to be some sort of film director? You have to watch Titanic if you’re going to do that.” You were surprised Tom had remembered that about you. “You’re watching it. We’re not going to sleep until it’s over.”

You were okay with that. Watching a movie meant Tom was resting which is what you needed to make sure he was doing. Once you were both done with your spaghetti you placed the bowls and tray outside of the room and Tom took his turn in the shower, but not before making you promise you wouldn’t change the channel while he was gone. You moved to the bed to get more comfortable and found yourself getting invested in the story. You were starting to see why it was one of the most famous movies of all time.

When Tom came out of the shower you wanted to throw something at him. He was soaking wet and wearing nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist.

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed and shook your head at him.

“What? I just forgot my pajamas!” he smirked as he grabbed clothes from his suitcase and retreated back into the bathroom. Dick.

When Tom was fully clothed and a little less drippy he joined you on the bed. As if on cue the scene in the car started as soon as he settled next to you. It wasn’t anything outrageously raunchy, but you still found yourself holding your breath until it was over. You were overly aware of Tom next to you, hair still wet, breathing evenly, eyes trained on the screen. You relaxed visibly once the scene cut and Tom laughed.

“You’re a dork.” It was the nicest insult he’d ever given you.

The painting scene made you want to die. Your palms were sweating and your cheeks were burning furiously. Tom remained entirely composed unless he was looking at you in which case he’d laugh and give you a hard time. You wished you weren’t so flustered.

“Hey, we’ve only got twenty minutes left, don’t fall asleep yet.” Tom shook your shoulder gently.

You had curled up on your side and your eyes had started to droop. It wasn’t your fault this movie was three years long. You groaned, but sat up anyway.

“This movie is too long,” you complained.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity the credits rolled. You had actually gotten a little emotional at the end, but you weren’t going to admit that to Tom.

The two of you were quiet as you got ready for bed. The silence was comfortable, for once. You both brushed your teeth and took your meds and Tom put on his retainers. It was all very domestic. Tom climbed into bed while you took a moment to plug up your phone and computer by the desk.

“Y/N?” Tom asked, breaking the silence.

“Hm?”

“Don’t sleep on the floor tonight.”

Sorry this is up kind of late tonight (but it’s not 2am like last time) !! I really need to get a schedule going lol. Thanks to @splashofbi and @patdandtop for the movie suggestions I was rlly struggling with those!! Anyway lmk what you think about the part!!

WOKO Tags: @parkerstylesperalta @everythingbooknerd @marvelellie @splashofbi @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @timelock97 @ohheyitsem @starsholland

Forever Tags: @mischiefmanaged49 @bookingbee @cloverrover @captainbuckyy

Send me an ask to be added/dropped from a taglist

#marvelellies1kcellie #were only kidding ourselves #woko #tom holland #TOM #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #far from home #harrison osterfield #haz #enemies to lovers #peter parker #tom holland series

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russian-romanova · 5 years

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all is right before the storm, part two. | bucky barnes x reader

series masterlist

spotify playlist

part title: two ; a dinner and a drink

pairing: 1940s!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 4K

warnings: they drink a lil alcohol, although no one gets drunk, little bit of language, mentions of super minor character death offscreen

notes: thank you, everyone, who read part one. this means a lot to me, so thank you! i tried to bring in some personal memories from having a large family, but also had to make up a family for bucky since his pre-steve life is pretty unknown in the mcu.

taglist: @20coldhearts (ask to be added!)

summary: bucky is pleasantly surprised by your family’s comforting yet unique aura during dinner, and afterward the two of you talk family and war over some drinks.

+ + +

The rain droned on softly throughout the afternoon. Although it was harder to hear downstairs, far from the roof and surrounded by the buzz and chatter of your family, it became white noise in your childhood room.

Staying once more in your old room brought with it a strange mixture of comfort and unfamiliarity. You hadn’t lived in it in close to three years, yet it was as if you came home to it every day as you had done for a large amount of your life. You knew where everyone was since it was as you had left it. The lamp on your bedside table was like habit to turn it on, and you remember where you kept your old hairbrush like you had put it away twenty-minutes earlier. The mind and memory are fantastical things, you thought to yourself. They tend to remember the littlest of things that seemingly won’t matter in the long run.

Whatever the reason, you were glad you wouldn’t have to spend twenty minutes searching for an object you would utilize for twenty seconds. With you hairbrush in your grip, you made your way over to a mirror that you had spent many hours in front of, using it to fix your hair and perfect it. Once you had finished the little correcting you felt necessary, you found it nice to just sit there, listening to the rain and clearing your head before rejoining your family. You loved them to death, of course, but they were often crazy.

You were called down by your mother’s voice, informing you of the doorbell. Time had passed quicker than you had expected, and you knew it must have been Bucky already.

You rushed down the stairs, politely pushing past Helen, Jean, and Marjorie who had been standing and talking at the bottom of the stairs. You quickly opened the door to be met with Bucky huddled under the coverage your larger porch offered, the sound of the rain growing louder behind him.

“You’re here!” You exclaimed, hoping for a moment that you didn’t sound too happy. “Did you forget your mom?”

“No, my sister Rebecca arrived early and offered to look after her.” Bucky gave you a half-smile and gestured in the direction of his mother’s house.

“Well, she can come over too!” You smiled, peeking behind him a little as if you would see her. Quickly you reposition yourself and apologize, “Not that your company isn’t enough. We…” You noticed your own fast speed in talking and paused to slow down. “We’re so happy to have you.”

Bucky grinned, outstretching a hand that you noticed was full of flowers. “Here, these are for you.”

Your smile became more soft and real. “Oh, thank you! You didn’t need to do that.” “My ma taught me to never come empty-handed.” He pushed them a little closer to you until you took them in your own hands.

“Thank you.” For a moment, you forget what came next, too flustered by the appearance of Bucky Barnes with flowers. “Here, you can come in. We haven’t started yet.” Bucky walked in, politely closing the door behind him and pushing his shoes off and placing them on the mat near the door. “I’m going to put these in a vase and we can all get to eating.” You hurried to the back of the kitchen, Bucky waiting patiently as he watched you fill up a tall and skinny vase with water and place the flowers inside. He hoped you couldn’t tell that they were just cut from his backyard and nothing special. His mother had, of course, told him to never show up empty-handed, but the lesson that resounded on his mind was that most women liked flowers.

You walked past him in a hurry, placing the vase on a small table in the kitchen and moving past him to enter the dining area. “Y/L/Ns! Food is getting cold.” You took your seat, and Bucky found his way next to you. Like a flood breaking a dam, your sisters and brothers entered, taking their seats and saving the heads of the table for your father and Jack since it was his meal.

Your mother and father entered last, and your oldest brother George jokingly announced them as if it was a fancy event. You looked from person to person, each one making eye contact with you and then moving onto another sibling as a child excited for Christmas might do. You were excited after all. It had felt like ages since everyone was together for a big meal like this, especially now that big meals were becoming more difficult to come by with rationing and lack of hearty foods in general.

“Everybody here?” Your father looked from face to face as if expecting any absent person to tell him they weren’t there. “No? Well, dig in!” The clinking of food began almost instantly, and chatter followed, giggling arising from the younger girls.

“We don’t really pray,” You made an apology in Bucky’s direction, grabbing a roll from the basket being passed around the table.

He took them once you were finished. “Nah, it’s fine. I can’t say I do, either.”

A smile of relief found its way onto your face. “Oh, well it works out then!”

“I’d say so.” Bucky returned the smile. Your eyes flashed across his face, and the way his glimmering eyes and crooked smile seemed to make him fit in even more. You could feel your face fluster red, and you turned to the table as you examined the platter laid before you. There were meats and salads, green beans and chopped potatoes. To the far end of either table there lay a basket of rolls, waiting to be passed around with a plate of butter that accompanied them. Sweet potatoes sat in the middle next to a large bowl of your mother’s famous stuffing, and you reached first for that.

“So Bucky,” Ruth’s voice rose from across the table over the clattering and clinking of silverware against plates, and you blushed the moment she spoke. She hadn’t said anything and you knew it was on the way to embarrass you. Ruth had been that sort of person since you could remember, making sure to say the things that didn’t necessarily hurt or harass you but made you embarrassed enough that she got a little delight from it. “You said you’re from Brooklyn too?”

“Yes, but it’s big enough that I’ve never met your sister,” He looked up and spoke politely, clearly striving to impress your family. “Not that I know of, anyway.” He didn’t seem uncomfortable in the new atmosphere, which surprised you. Perhaps that was just because you seemed to be practically pathetic in new situations, constantly fiddling with your skirt or any bracelets that would adorn your wrists.

“That’s so crazy,” Marjorie spoke up, shoving a fork full of green beans into her mouth. You almost laughed, your hand moving to your mouth to cover your snort. You knew from the forkful that it was too full for her mouth to intake, although Marjorie didn’t realize it until she began wildly coughing and spitting a few of her beans back onto her plate.

A few of your siblings groaned, and your mother almost gagged. “Marjorie, please!” You were surprised that she wasn’t saying anything to you or your laughing siblings, disciplining you for egging her on. When your gaze cast to a chuckling Bucky, however, you figured she was being polite to your family’s guest.

“Good to know you guys have a good sense of humor,” Bucky smiled. “I was worried for a minute there that maybe you didn’t laugh.”

Still giddy from the green bean incident, even that thought made you giggle. “Out of everyone, I think I’m most likely to laugh.”

“I can see where you get it from,” Bucky laughed, gesturing slightly to your mother. She was laughing almost hysterically from something Helen had said, although Helen seemed less than thrilled she was laughing.

“Alright, alright, I’ve got something to say about good ol’ Jack Jr.,” George stood up, raising a glass as if to say something emotional. “Eat up, buddy. Have fun starving in the army.” Laughter and chatter rose, and George had to raise his voice to be heard. “And a reminder for the rest of us -- this is just half of the feast we’ll have once Jackie’s gone!” George joked, raising a glass.

Jean laughed, her bright green eyes looking over at her twin’s. “Here, here!”

Was it cruel? Perhaps. But to you, it was natural. Your family joked like this every day, and you remembered it being this way since the day you were born, and you sure it had been going on for years before that.

“Oh come on, come on,” Jack stood up, laughing as well. You smiled at him. Noticing for the first time how similar his laugh was to your father’s. “We can all have a feast that will make this seem like nothing when I kill Hitler.”

“Personally?” Ruth giggled.

“Bring us his head,” You laughed along with her, the two of you making giddy eye contact.

You were surprised when Bucky added, “Which’ll happen before or after Germany elects you as their new chancellor?” Jack responded as if Bucky was another sibling he had dealt with his whole life, and now a stranger that he hadn’t even personally met. “Well, killing ol’ Adolf will come before, naturally. How’d you think I won the chancellorship anonymously?” With that statement, he found his chair once more, now seemingly speechless and Roxie planted a kiss on his cheek, giggling and saying something you couldn’t hear over your family’s talkative roar.

“You certainly come from an ambitious family,” Bucky joked as he leaned towards you a little, spooning a potato onto his fork as he did so.

“Oh, when it comes to war, we never joke,” You put on a very sophisticated face and straightened your posture, clearly in a silly mood already. “Legend has it, our Grandfather David Y/L/N the second ended the first world war. And you know what they say -- the apples don’t fall far from the tree.” By now you were fighting to suppress a laugh.

“Legend has it our Grandpa David was crazy,” Samantha corrected. “And you know what they say-” “-The apples don’t fall far from the tree!” Marjorie finished, laughing like a hyena.

The rest of the night seemed to continue along similarly, everyone laughing and the looming loss of Jack Jr. to the Air Force seemed a threat not to be mentioned. When the main food was finished, Ruth excused herself and brought out two pies that she had made earlier that way, to which everyone cheered. After eating, everyone was required to help out with the dishes, and you and Bucky had too much fun drying them with the long white rags you had used since you were four years old.

“Do you want to head to the porch?” You asked once you were all done with dinner and the continuing aspects, suddenly a timid teenager as you looked from the groups your family had already formed to Bucky.

“Sure,” He looked towards the window briefly. “Funny, I didn’t even realize it had stopped raining.”

You met his gaze before looking back to him. “Oh yeah, I think it stopped during dinner.” Wordlessly, you made your way over the refrigerator as Bucky watched you. “Do you want a beer, Bucky?” He leaned his head back a little, straining to see what kinds you had from his standing spot. Giving up, he asked. “What do you got?” You used your hand to rummage through the pale yellow refrigerator. “Lots of Hamm’s. George and Roxie were in charge of alcohol and they live in Minnesota now, so…” You trailed off, pausing a moment longer as you double-checked. “Yep, just Hamm’s.”

“Hamm’s sounds fantastic.”

You chuckled, although you were sure only you could hear it and you leaned in to grab out two beers. Once you swung around, Bucky accepted the beer before walking with you outside.

Your family’s porch brought back more memories than almost any other part of your house. The white paint was chipping in some parts more exposed to weather, but that paint had been there for as long as you could remember. There was worn and flattened grey fabric underfoot, and white half walls that went around the border not attached to the house, save for the entrance in front of the door. Bucky and you both situated in outdoor chairs next to one another. You found yourself too immersed in recalling past times since you entered this porch to even think of a conversation starter.

“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” Bucky asked as if reading your mind. “Like here. On this porch.”

You paused for a moment to think it over. It was a big question, but you chuckled once you realized. “Yeah, when we were kids we had this giant bus, like an old school bus-” You used your hands to exaggerate the size. “And mom and dad let us paint it. However, we wanted. I mean, I must have been five at the time. Ruth wasn’t older than ten. We had no idea what we were doing! But it was…” You trailed off, smiling to yourself. “It was so wonderful. The art wasn’t good, and it was all on the bottom half of the bus. But when it was all done, we went camping. With the bus. We just packed all of the shit we needed, put it in the back couple of seats, and drove across the state. God, it was crazy. But the porch-” It took you a moment to remember what the point of your story and your face turned redder than usual once you realized your ramble. “When we came back home, we drove for hours. Over twelve. When we got back, it was dark, and we were so tired that we literally just collapsed on the porch and slept. Our parents went inside, but they just let us stay there. We slept on this porch. I don’t even think we realized it until we woke up.”

Once he was sure you were done, Bucky chuckled lightly. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” The alcohol already brought up a chuckle from your throat. “I was right there.” You pointed to a corner against the house. “I was the second to wake up, after Ruth.”

“Good thing it didn’t rain,” Bucky pointed out.

You looked over to meet his eyes, smiling. “That’s very true.” You leaned forward, resting your head on your hands, while your elbows positioned themselves on your knees. “Hey, what about you? Your family?”

“Well,” Bucky stretched his legs for a moment as he spoke, “There’s me, I’m the oldest. Then there’s Rebecca, Marie, and Judy.”

“All girls? So you’re the odd man out, then.”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed before his voice fell a little quieter. “And there’s my mom, and she’s over there, and my dad left when I was twelve.”

“Oh.” Your voice was just as soft. “I’m sorry. That’s horrible.”

Bucky took a drink of his beer, shrugging. “We’re fine without him, you know?” You nodded, although you clearly didn’t know, and kept silent as you waited for the right words to come to you. “Is all of your family here?”

You took the opportunity. “Yeah. Ruth’s the oldest, and she brought her fiancé Dick. Then there’s George and his wife Roxie, Samantha, me-” You gestured to yourself, “Helen, Jack Jr., and Jean are twins, and Marjorie is the baby of the family. It’s crazy.”

“All families are crazy,” Bucky laughed. “But you can’t imagine life without them, right?”

“Right.” It was true. You were the fourth of eight kids, right in the middle and at the point where you never knew the life of an only child as the oldest might before its counterparts are born, or as the youngest might after its counterparts move out. You had always had family, large chunks on either side of you. You see so fortunate, you realized now. Bucky’s father was gone and his mother was sick, and he was the only boy in the family. No other males to interact with or really learn from. You loved your brothers to death, but you couldn’t imagine being only surrounded by them.

“I’ve thought about enlisting,” Bucky spoke, his eyes remaining fixated on the distant hills. The topic came from the far reaches of his mind, but you could tell he was trying to keep the conversation up. “From time to time.”

You took a drink. “Well, what’s stopping you?”

Bucky shrugged. “My mom,” He leaned his head a little as he spoke, unmistakably tired but too used to pushing through it. “My sisters and I have been rotating looking after her as she recovers, but I couldn’t leave when she’s like this. I think she’s getting better though. I hope she is.”

“Look, I’ve never met your mom but I promise she’d be fine without you. Your sisters sound amazing, they get it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Honestly, even leaving tomorrow is gonna be hard. I just love her so much and it hurts that I can’t be there for her,” He paused, his eyebrows lowered in a somber gaze.

“So you’ll be leaving tomorrow?” Your hand swirled the beer around in your can, feeling the liquid push enough against the metal of the can that it was felt in your palm. “For Brooklyn?”

“Now that Becca’s back, I guess. If not tomorrow then Thursday.”

You nodded slowly, almost having to process his words. “Yeah, I’m leaving Thursday. We all wanted to see Jack Jr. off tomorrow.” “Yeah, yeah,” Bucky agreed. “That makes sense, yeah.” You stared ahead, any comments staying behind your somber expression. For the first time in a long time, you felt as though you could let down your chipper personality and personal guard to be the person you felt like at that moment. Bucky’s charismatic personality spurred that, you supposed. “Hey, um…” You spoke without really thinking, your speech slowing as you thought of what would come next. “I feel like we should visit in Brooklyn. Or something like that. You know, it just seems like such a shame that we’d live so close to each other and forget ever talking. Right?”

“I didn’t want to intrude, but I was thinking the same thing.” Bucky looked at you, his lips turning up to a smile. “Do you have an address or phone I could write down?”

“Oh! Yeah, let me just grab a piece of paper and a pen,” You stood up, reaching to place your beer can on the ground. Bucky intercepted it and offered to hold it, which you graciously let him do.

“Paper. Pen. Where?” You walked in through the screen door, speaking to no one in particular as you tried to minimize the time you made Bucky sit alone outside. For a moment it was silent, and you wondered if anyone could even hear you over the loud talking.

“To your right!” Helen glanced up at you, and you turned to see a notepad and pen by the phone. “Just put it back in the same place.” “Will do! Thank you!” You shouted your response, grabbing it and walking back outside. Bucky looked towards you as you walked out, outstretching a hand to pass you back your beer.

Thanking him, you sat down. “I’ll just tear a piece of paper in half to share,” You pulled a piece off, carefully ripping it in half and giving half to Bucky. In your neatest handwriting, you wrote:

Y/N Y/L/N

BR-20880

3517 Hoffman Avenue

Under which, you attempted to draw a small happy face, although it turned out worse than you hoped and considered scribbling it out altogether. You caught a glance of Bucky waiting for the pen, however, and you passed it to him instead.

“Nice drawing,” He commented.

“Oh, shush,” You laughed, bringing Bucky smiled at your reaction. “This is why I’m an English major and not an art major.”

“You’re an English major?” He looked up from

his scribbles. “Brooklyn College?”

“Yes,” You nodded your head slowly at his guess. “Probably wasn’t hard to figure out, though.”

“What, just because you live there?” He passed you the now completed sheet of paper, which you stuck in your pocket. “You seem like the type of dame who likes to travel.”

“To school every day? No thank you.” You chuckled. “And Brooklyn suits me very well.”

He nodded, chucking again.

“What’s so funny?” You tilted your head.

“A real live college girl. Learning English. Wow.” You could tell he was trying to be a jerk, and you laughed and pushed him softly with your hand. It was an action you had seen your mother do affectionately to your father hundreds of times, and you weren’t even sure it registered in your mind when you did it yourself.

“I’m not learning English. I’m perfecting my English.”

He whistled. “Give me a big word. I want to feel smarter, go.”

You twirled your necklace in your hands for a minute before saying, “Axiomatic.” “Axiomatic?” Bucky repeated slowly.

You nodded. “It means obvious.” You hadn’t actually learned that one from school, but from your younger sister Jean. You had no idea where she had gotten it from, but it had been one of your favorite words for years

“Ooh, give me another. Hit me.”

“Meleagrine,” You said slowly.

“Gave me chills,” He joked.

After waiting for a moment, you answered, “Pertaining to turkeys,” smiling smugly. Bucky gave a hearty laugh, and you felt your own smile grow. “You liked that one, did you?”

“Oh, did I!” He looked back at you, his smile lingering. You realized how blue his eyes were. Not a dull sort of blue as your father and Ruth shared, but a bright blue. Reminiscent of the sky in the summer, or the ocean when the sun rises. For a second you thought you should look away, that you had been staring too long. Then you seemed to notice them all over again and were enthralled with the color once more.

“Thanks for this,” You smiled at him, raising your voice to catch his attention before flickering your eyes away. “I should go inside, I think.”

“Yeah,” He looked back at you, his voice distant but his smile was near and warm. “Anytime.”

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #40s!bucky #1940s bucky barnes #1940s #marvel #mcu #bucky series #marvel x reader #part two

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