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cole-grey-writes · 3 years

Text

Brown Hair Braided

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Character(s): Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Pairing(s): Stucky x Male Reader

Warning(s): tooth rotting fluff

Request: Hi king!! Your writing is amazing! I’d love to request a cuddly stucky x boyfriend reader. Bonus points for extra snuggly long haired Bucky and Steve and the reader playing with his hair.

A/n: WOW so sorry this took me a while to get up. I was busy with online classes and homework, all that shit. and if anyone is interested to know, i finished applying to my first college (yeah cutting it suuuper short but fuck im a procrastinator). I really hope you enjoy this fic. Keep sending in your requests, i really like writing for you guys!

You sit at the desk that sits in your bedroom, doing some last minute paperwork before the weekend. You’re startled from your focus and analytical thoughts when you get a frantic text from one of your boyfriends, Steve. You smile.

It's been a couple years since you had started going out with Steve but it still feels like you two were in the honeymoon phase. Steve brings a smile to your face at even the slightest mention of him. Although, you’re a little confused as to why Steve didn’t just call you. It’s what he usually prefers to converse with you while you are away from each other, Steve having told you it had something to do with liking to hear your voice. You chose not to dig further to spare Steve’s already tomato red face from exploding.

You turn away from your computer and small stack of papers, picking up your phone just as the screen lights up with another text.

Steve [5:23 p.m.] Y/N Y/N Y/N

Steve [5:23 p.m.] HEY

Steve [5:24 p.m.] ANSWER

You snort, wondering what Steve seems so excited about.

You [5:24 p.m.] what

Steve [5:23 p.m.] BUCK IS COMING HOME

You’re immediately sitting up straight, smile spreading even wider. You now understand why Steve had chosen to text you, probably embarrassed to start loudly squealing over their boyfriend coming home while in his place of work.

Bucky was your other boyfriend, something you wouldn’t have believed if you were to bring it up with your past self. This is mostly due to the almost palpable tension between the two of you when you and Bucky officially met about a year prior.

You, Steve, Sam, and occasionally Natasha, had been trailing after Bucky all over Europe for a few months. Bucky must have been slowly rebuilding himself during that time because he had suddenly stopped running right before you were going to hit the four (4) month mark.

You didn’t understand where all the awkwardness had been coming from. For all you knew, you were just looking for Steve’s childhood best friend, one of the only people to still remain from Steve’s old life. That was, until Sam and Natasha started making offhand comments about how deep Steve and Bucky’s friendship seemed to run (you honestly didn’t and don’t blame either of them for the new wave of insecurities that flooded your mind, you and Steve having agreed to keep the relationship, which you started only a few weeks before the reveal of HYDRA’s secret operations inside SHIELD, you started a secret until you two became more comfortable).

Everything made sense after that. It was understandable that you and Bucky had a fragile relationship in the beginning. And it really was only in the beginning. It didn’t take long before you and Bucky started bonding over your shared love for Steve and it didn’t take long after that before something started forming between the three of.

You [5:25 p.m.] !!!!!

You [5:26 p.m.] OMG

You [5:26 p.m.] REALLY?!?

Steve [5:26 p.m.] YES!

Steve [5:26 p.m.] we need to hurry he’s on the way home rn

You [5:26 p.m.] oH UM

You [5:27 p.m.] i’m home rn

You [5:27 p.m.] i can set up everything here

Steve [5:27 p.m.] good!!

Steve [5:27 p.m.] i can get dinner and dessert on my way home

You [5:27 p.m.] perfect

Steve [5:28 p.m.] ok 123 brEAK

You snort at Steve’s comedic antics as you push yourself away from your desk and away from your work. You know that you'll have to finish those at some point before monday. You’ll most likely be doing it late sunday night due to the fact that you’re going to be completely preoccupied with your boyfriends all weekend because it's been a few weeks since all three of you have been together.

This is obviously due to your hectic work schedules, Steve stuck with what was left of SHIELD, unofficially of course, doing top secret secret agent missions. Bucky had joined him in that soon after he was cleared for it. You, on the other hand, have a very typical and boring office job, a job that has become very demanding as of late with your boss giving out extra paperwork around your floor.

But, you don’t have to worry about that at the moment, you remind yourself. That thought spurs you into moving around your apartment, an apartment that you’ve been sharing with your boyfriends for a couple of months now. You note this fact with a small surge of glee inside your head as you rush to your closet where you keep all your blankets at.

You pull out the blankets you have, which is quite a lot, a fact you’re slightly embarrassed to admit. You’ve accumulated a bunch of them throughout your entire life, some as gifts from your friends and family and others from your lack of self control during the fall and winter time of the blatant holiday themes are anything to go by. You’re pretty sure your old baby blankets are boxed up somewhere, likely under your bed.

You pile the load of blankets high in your arms, so much so that you can’t see where you’re going if you don’t walk sideways as you make your way towards the living room. The living room where everything is going to happen.

Dropping the mountain of blankets on the couch unceremoniously, you immediately start to arrange them all around the couch. You bunch and ball the blankets around the back of the couch, trying to form a cocoon out of them so that you, Steve, and Bucky can remain warm no matter where or how any of you sit while you watch movie after movie throughout the rest of the night.

Which reminds you, it’s not possible to have a movie night without any movies.

turning to the small movie rack that sits next to the TV, you waste no time at all in picking out any movies that catch your eye which are quite a few movies, a good number of which are Steve and Bucky’s favorites. You set the, rather large, stack of movies next to the couch blanket fort so they’re out and ready to pick through whenever.

You’re left with a small clean up after that. You clear off the coffee table for when Steve gets home with the food, picking up leftover coffee mugs (courtesy of Steve) and rinsing them before sticking them in the dishwasher for you to deal with later. Then, you move the books lying around the living room to the miniature bookshelf in your bedroom before gathering all the drawing paper and well used pencils (also courtesy of Steve) and placing those on the left bedside table, the side Steve likes to sleep on when he’s not in the middle.

You wander around the apartment after that, looking for anything else to clean while you wait for Steve to arrive. It takes less time than you think it should have, which is surprising, so surprising that you almost think someone is politely breaking in when you hear the sound of the door clicking open and closed.

You head out of your bedroom where you were perusing a book, something you could distract yourself with, when you heard. You walk into the kitchen to see Steve already unpacking the food, clearly having rushed home.

You’re not able to hold back your smile upon seeing your boyfriend for the first time in weeks. “Need any help?” you wonder, your appearance catching Steve’s attention. He turns towards you, it being quite obvious that Steve is as excited to see you as you are to see him if the wide smile that spreads across his face in seconds is anything to go by.

Steve pauses in his unpacking to lean towards as you approach him swiftly, so he can pull you into a warm kiss. You and Steve feel each other smile during the kiss, making you two smile even harder. “Help would be great,” Steve tells you after you separate. He resumes unpacking the food from the plastic bag it was put into.

You identify the logo on the bag now that you’re so close and it’s clear that the food is from Bucky’s favorite burger place. You take note of the food as you help Steve set everything out on the counter. There’s three (3) different to-go boxes, no doubt filled with favorite menu items. You also spot three (3) medium sized milkshakes sitting in the cup container.

“Dessert?”

“It’s in the fridge,” Steve informs you.

Making a sound of interest and curiosity, you ask, “What is it?”

Steve smirks and raises his eyebrows. “Went to the store and got one of those ice cream cakes Buck likes.”

“Well,” you start, “that will certainly be a nice treat for later.”

You and Steve share a smile as you both grab the food and milkshakes so you can bring it to the living room. The living room where you plan to have dinner and a show with your two wonderful super-soldier boyfriends.

Afterwards, you and Steve resign yourselves to standing around the kitchen, catching up on the last few weeks. You and Steve are ready to happily greet Bucky once the time comes that he opens the door.

It feels like time drags on and on while you two are waiting so you’re very much thankful when you finally hear the turning of the doorknob. You and Steve separate from where you had been wrapped around each other, turning and shouting Bucky’s name in excitement. Just as he walks through the door, Bucky is all bashful as soon as he sees his two boyfriends greet him with spread arms and wide smiles.

You look him up and down for the first time in quite awhile, Bucky just as gorgeous as he always was. He clearly showered and changed beforehand if the damp hair and sweatpants are anything to go by.

Bucky drops the gym bag, obviously filled with his dirty and possibly damaged suit, on the floor. He stretches his arms out, resting each hand on the back of your and Steve’s necks so he can pull you both in close to give each of you a kiss on the lips.

“Welcome home.”

“Welcome home indeed,” Bucky rumbles back, a heart-eye look sweeping across his face. You’re one of the two people on earth that gets to receive that look, not that you mean to brag or anything.

“I’ll take your bag and put it in our room,” Steve tells Bucky. Bucky thanks him before he pulls Steve into another kiss. It’s something you feel there’s going to be a lot of for the rest of the evening, which you look forward to.

Steve takes Bucky’s gym bag from him before walking off so he can do exactly as he said, leaving you and your other boyfriend by yourselves in the kitchen. Once Steve is out of reach, you feel Bucky’s hand move from the back of your neck to your waist, which allows him to pull you in close. He presses you against his chest so he can engage in a deep reunion kiss. It’s been a long time since you’ve last felt his lips against yours which is why you allow yourself to indulge.

You have to force yourself to take a step back. “Not that I'm not enjoying this, because I 100 percent am, but…” you trail off as you take Bucky’s hand in yours, ”we should go to the living room for your first surprise.”

“First surprise?” Bucky’s tone lilts in clear interest, eyebrows raising. It’s almost as if he’s joking but you’re able to tell that Bucky’s genuinely looking forward to what you and Steve have prepared for him.

“We haven’t seen each other properly in weeks. There’s a lot to catch up on.”

“Well, I am definitely looking forward to it. Lead the way, doll,” Bucky instructs you, causing you to chuckle before you turn away from him in order for him to lead him into the living room.

You present the done up living room with wide open arms and an enthusiastic ‘ta-da’ and it seems that if Bucky’s smile could get bigger, it probably would. He surveys your and Steve’s work before he turns back towards you and also Steve, who has just rejoined you and Bucky. “What do you think, Buck?”

“You know what I think, Stevie baby,” Bucky tells him, grabbing one of each of your and Steve’s hands. “I absolutely love it.”

Changing the subject a little, you say, “Well, pick a seat because none of us are moving for anything other than changing the movie and getting dessert.”

Bucky hums, his voice lifting up high at the end. “Dessert, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve dismisses before his boyfriend could get any ideas. “You have to finish your dinner first.”

Bucky nods eagerly, not in any way bothered by being withheld dessert, before he takes his seat in the middle of the couch. He clearly wants to have his boyfriends cuddled up on either side of him.

“So, what do you want to watch first?” you question while you scoot the pile of movies closer to Bucky, who doesn’t take any time at all to begin picking out the movie he wants. And as it turns out, it’s a horror movie called The Apparition.

While he takes it from the pile, Bucky comments, “Been awhile since I’ve seen one fo these.”

“Horror movie, huh?” Steve jokes. “Trying to be our knight in shining armor while we cower behind you in fear?” you laugh alongside your boyfriends.

You settle back on the couch once you’ve taken the movie from Bucky and put it in the DVD player, which begins to play shortly after. You and your boyfriends snuggle into each other’s sides, feet pulled close to your bodies as you all munch on your food.

Well, it’s more like Steve and Bucky are eating their food. At the moment, you were less interested in your food and more interested in Bucky. Your boyfriend was distracting in general, both of them were. But it’s the smooth brown waves of Bucky’s hair that’s distracting you specifically. It looks so soft, especially so after Bucky’s washed it, and you just want to run your fingers through it, play with it for hours.

Your eyes wander down to your wrist as you continue to think about your boyfriend’s long hair, eyes catching on the little black band around your wrist. It’s a hair tie, one that you and Steve always have wrapped around your wrists for this precise reason. For tying up Bucky’s hair when he needs or wants to. It’s a habit to keep hair ties on your person constantly, originating right around the time Bucky was cleared to go on missions. He had decided that he wanted to keep his hair long, at least for the time being, so as the length of Bucky’s hair grew larger so did the need for hair ties at any given time.

You glance between Bucky’s hair and the hair tie, your self control wearing thin. After only a few seconds, you’re not able to help yourself from reaching your hand out to your boyfriend’s beautiful brown hair. You weave your fingers through a few strands is all it takes for your desire to skyrocket.

Tangling both of your hands to Bucky’s hair, you feel him pause in his eating but you pay it no mind as you begin to languidly braid his hair. It’s not long before another pair of hands join yours. Looking over, you spot a giddy Steve on the other side of Bucky. It appears as if your thoughts have rubbed off on him because he grabs the other half of Bucky’s hair so he can braid it alongside you.

Bucky chuckles, clearly amused. “You two are ridiculous.” Although, you wonder if Bucky can really blame you.

“Your hair is really beautiful, though,” Steve adds. Bucky doesn’t say anything in response, not that it matters. The blush that highlights his cheeks for the next five minutes is telling enough.

You and Steve share knowing looks as you both continue to braid your boyfriend’s hair, permanent smiles stretching across your faces.

(NOT MY GIF)

Main Blog // Other Side Blog

((NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE EVEN WITH CREDIT))

#stucky x male reader #stuck x reader #reader insert #marvel cinematic universe

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princessmariaphiliper · 3 years

Text

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 2 The Nightlife

Notes: James Acaster, Ed Gamble (Platonic), and other characters to be added. Smoking and alcohol consumption warning I guess

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader

Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,507

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

The bright humming of ABBA played across the bar as the three of you entered from the Uber. You’d all had a tequila shot each before leaving your apartment and you were begging to welcome a great night with new and old friends alike.

On the way inside, you had all discussed how strange it was that the two of you had never met before, considering Ed was close to both of you it was hard to pinpoint why. You shook it off, dead ready to bust out some terrible dancing.

It was quite a dingy bar you’d come to but, in a sexy sort of way. You’d been here plenty of times with friends over the years and you and Ed had both agreed that it was one of the best places in London. With cheap, but suspiciously strong, drinks and a decent range of music to get you feeling a buzz.

You entered first, heading straight to the bar to line up for a drink. James and Ed hot on your heels.

“What do you want?” You asked, “I’ll buy the first round as a thank you. I’ve missed you Ed!”

“Don’t be silly, you've already given us one at yours” Ed replied, getting out his wallet.

“No I insist please”

“Okay but me and James will get the next two”

“Deal” You looked between the two “what's your damage boys?” You winked, starting to feel a little flirty after the shots you’d had at home.

“Dirty Martinis?” James suggested, beginning to speak closer to you as a group of football lads entered the club. Changing the volume from a 7 to a 9. His breath dusted lightly across your skin, secretly exciting you.

“Sounds sexy,”

“Dirty Martinis it is.”

James and Ed moved across the club, beginning to search for some of the other friends Ed had invited out tonight. While you waited patiently and ordered the three of you drinks. The music had changed now, they were playing Ashnikko through the speakers. You observed James as him and Ed found their way around bodies at the bar. You smirked watching him laughing between his and Ed’s, now found, companions. There was something about him you found attractive, you couldn’t quite tell if it was the schoolboy humour you’d seen him perform or his down to earth personality that you’d discovered thus far tonight. He looked over at you. The two of you making slightly awkward eye contact, before he broke the uncomfortableness with a smile.

“What would you like darling?” The lady at the bar spoke over the speakers. You smirked back at him before turning around and ordering the three of yours choices.

Digging through your purse for your bankcard you waited as the bartender mixed the martinis. You were slightly hypnotised by the pouring, something about cocktail making always mesmerised you, especially after you’d already had a few drinks. A hot hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your trance however, and you flinched around to meet James standing directly behind you.

“Thought you might need a little help carrying three” He smirked, giving back the one you delivered him earlier.

“Thanks, that's very gentlemanly of you”

“Not a problem.”

“I’ll get Ed’s and my own you can have yours”

“Sure” You scanned your card and began making your way over to the stools where lots of new faces were. You took a sip of your drink, ready to start feeling more buzzed.

“So how did you and Ed meet?” James struck up a casual conversation.

“Oh, well, when he started rehearsing at the basement, he couldn’t get in the first time. Luckily, I was walking past, and I had some work there a few days before so I had the managers number. He was blessed to have met me really!”

“Sure was” He commented, more to himself than you. But you heard him clear as day over the sound. You hoped you were not mistaking kindness for flirting, but who could blame you. You were three drinks in, single, and he was wearing a goddam suit.

“What?” You challenged him as you took a seat next to Ed. He sat opposite you, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing. At. All”

Ed looked between the two of you, seemingly questioning what you had been discussing. Neither of you elaborated though and so he began introducing you to some of his university friends. You and James exchanged devious smiles as you shook hands with them, half his face in a glass.

The night continued on, two more drinks of chatting and getting to know the people you were to spend the night with.

“So what exactly do you do at work then?” James asked you, elbows on the table, now sipping on a mojito.

“Well, it depends what day.” You admit honestly. “Two days a week I work along women with traumatic pasts to use art for self-discovery and mental healing. The other days my projects switch, sometimes I’ll be writing a play or someday I’ll be outsourcing for other people. So drama therapy with freelance work”

His face softened, and you saw a genuine smile surface. “Wow. That’s, amazing. I didn’t expect that.”

“Scared Acaster?” You teased.

“Why would I be?”

“Most men get afraid when I tell them I have a career in therapy. They get scared I’m reading them”

“Not me”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a tough nut to crack” He wiggled two thumbs at himself, “Good luck getting under my skin behbeh”

You laughed loudly at him, drawing the attention from the table. Ed gave you a questioning look again but you shrugged it off. “Anyone fancy a dance?” You stated, taking advantage of the interrupted conversations as one of your favourite songs had just begun.

“I’ll grab us another drink, Ed what do you want?”

“Same again please mate.”

You moved out towards the outside of the cluster on the dancefloor. Raising your arms and spinning as you did so. Ed followed you from the table along with some other people that you, embarrassingly, were a little too drunk to remember the names of. You and Ed began to dance, him bending his knees oddly as you wiggled your hips naturally to the music. He came up close to you, having to shout in your ear to talk.

“What are you plotting?”

“What do you mean?” You quizzed, the two of you bobbing too and from one another's ears now.

“With James, I’m not daft.”

“Nothing, just some friendly flirting.” You admitted, although you couldn’t convince yourself your intentions were entirely pure.

“Well, just so you know and you don’t do anything you’ll regret. He’s with someone.”

His statement took you by surprise, James had not yet made any mention of having a girlfriend. And it wasn’t as though you had been one sided flirting. Maybe you’d gotten the wrong impression and he was just being friendly. Either way you shrugged it off.

“A little flirting never hurt anybody Ed,” You rolled your head back to the music, smirking at him now. Moving your hips and shoulders in sync as James approached you and Ed again. Holding three glasses in a triangle of hands. You took one from him, easing him into a more comfortable stance from his hunched over ‘I’m trying my hardest not to spill any of this’ one. You drank from your glass. Your free arm weaving its way into the air. Deciding that, even if you could not take him home now, you could at the very least have a boogie with him and Ed.

The music changed from the classic club tune to a slower, sexier Blondie tune now. The room roaring with approval towards the DJ. You screamed giddily, loving this song too. You, Ed and James shouting the lyrics at one another as though you were auditioning for a season of Drag Race. Loving the energy, you spun around in a circle, beginning to down the drink in your hand. James and Ed joined you, his friends all chanting to egg you all on and crown a winner for the spontaneous challenge. Ed finished first, embracing his victory by moving towards James and jabbing him in the ribs. Forcing him to uncontrollably spit his mouthful onto the floor. Surprisingly not wetting any area but his shoes in the process. The group laughed and continued to dance. The songs got more and more blurred as the night went on. You bust out your favourite moves, the sarcastic slut drops and finger guns coming out more often than you’d be proud to admit.

Avril Lavigne, Ariana Grande and The Fratellis later, you found yourself desperately needing the bathroom. You made your way up after letting Ed know you were going while he ordered another round. The men and women’s toilets were on the same end of the bar as the smoking area here. It was quite a studenty sort of place, with lots of people sitting on the wide stairway chatting to one another. As the booming of music was captured in the main room. There were posters plastering the walls of different musical artists and marker pen of peoples names. You went to the bathrooms, slightly worried about having now broken the seal and the inevitability of needing to piss every ten minutes from now on. You washed and dried your hands quite sloppily under the purple light of neon in the toilets. Making your way back out onto the stairwell. You captured James on the back end of a conversation.

“Well did you expect me to just sit home for weeks?” He said in a rather deflated tone. The person on the other end responded. “Okay yeah. Speak to you tomorrow then.”

He hung up the phone. Shaking his head in frustration and lowering it to press into his palms now.

“James?” You spoke timidly, not wanting to startle him. “Everything alright?”

“Not really.” He looked up at you, eyes going slightly flat and one side of his mouth scrunching into a dimple. You took a seat next to him, feeling genuinely sad without knowing his troubles.

“You wanna tell someone about it?”

“Maybe.”

“Shall I get Ed?” You asked tenderly, not wanting to overstep a boundary with someone you’d just met. You’d placed your hands atop of your knees, not wanting to touch the dirty stairs you sat on. He lifted his head up to face you. Your breaths fighting each other in the cold from the smoking doors being wide open. His eyes softened from their screwed up tension when they met with your own.

“No.” He said breathily. “Can you stay?”

“Sure. What's wrong?”

“Well” He broke contact, looking up to the ceiling. Ready to vent. “I think my relationship is finished. We just keep arguing all the time and sometimes I just want to throw in the towel.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You know when you just feel something not working anymore. I don’t know how to tell Ed as she’s so close to Claire. You’re actually the first person I’ve openly told I just feel so stuck.”

“Oh.” You didn’t quite know what to say for a while. Before deciding to give him the advice you’d wished someone had given you towards the end of your last relationship. “Well. Can I be honest?”

“Sure”

“I think. You have to do what’s best for you. A few years ago, I was going through a similar thing. We just had no goals left to fill together and it sort of died out. We clung to each other for so long afterwards simply because we were both afraid to be single again.” He nodded, looking back at you again. “But it's really not so scary once you get used to it. We’re all born into the world alone, sometimes you have to put your own mental health first. I say give it a little more time and if you still feel the same then don’t be afraid to walk away. There's no shame in it.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re an attractive man James, I’m sure there'll be plenty of people falling at your feet when you’re ready again!” You smiled at him. Rather proud of your shitfaced advice. Even if you couldn’t remember what you had just said James seemed a little more relaxed now.

“You think I’m attractive?” He wiggled an eyebrow comically.

“Shut up.” You paused, pulling your bag onto your lap. “Listen, I convinced one of Ed’s friends to give me a cigarette earlier. You want half?”

You didn’t usually smoke. You’d given up doing so socially sometime after university as you could see it becoming a bit of a habit. But every now and again you’d do so on a night out. James looked at you with a cheeky grin as you pulled it out and held it between your thumb and forefinger. He winked at you, snatching it from your hand and stumbling over to the smoking area. You followed suit clumsily yelling a rendition of his name. Making it outside you made your way over to him asking someone for a lighter and placing it in his mouth. He inhaled as he flamed the end, passing the lighter back to its rightful owner.

There was something mysterious about watching James smoke. It was something you couldn’t imagine him doing before then given his persona on the Tv. If you had to be honest you found him a little sexy as he passed the cigarette over to you. His fore finger resting on your bottom lip as you took a drag. You noted the darkness in his eyes returning from before as he moved a strand of hair from your cheek. You took the cigarette between your own fingers now, pulling it out of your mouth.

“So,” You started, before exhaling. “Is girlfriend mad because you’re not home?”

“Yeah. She’s away for the next three weeks for work and isn’t happy that I’m out without telling her.”

You pulled a face accidentally at the notion. James luckily didn’t take offence, he just laughed. “Sorry, drunk actions.” You shrugged.

“Sober truths.” He added a ‘thank you’ as you passed back the cigarette.

“She not let you out much?”

“No, she hates when I’m out without her. Thinks other women will flirt with me,”

His sentence laid itself heavy. Adding an awkward guilt into the exchange between the two of you. Luckily to break that pause Ed gambles face made itself present in the entryway.

“Are you two smoking!” He said in a way that was laced with disappointment. James took the Cigarette from his mouth and threw it on the ground. You felt like two kids having been caught eating a bar of chocolate before dinner. You giggled as you butted the glow out with your foot.

“No?”

“Definitely not.”

“As if we would Ed!”

#james acaster x reader #jamesacasterxreader #james acaster imagines #james acaster fanfic

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

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Business AU - Working Late, Part 8

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

There’s one scene in there I had in mind ever since I started writing that small fic and HELL YEH I’m gonna draw something about it at some point because fsdfbbsfbsdhbfgsbgdfguidfg it just looks aesthetically pleasing in my head.

ENJOY.

(also reminder that I base Donnie’s place on this video. The only part I change is the “kids” area - which is horrendous imo :’D - and I make into a lab/small training area)

There was something different in the air when Vee got to work the next day. This feeling that wanted to explode out in the open, an incessant rush in her veins that made her heart beat faster whenever she’d spot the terrapin. Their tasks for the day didn’t give them much time to talk, but everytime they’d be exchanging words or documents, there was this longing sensation that slowed down time to a honey sweet pace. Fingers brushing against the other, light touches here and there. Professionalism remained king in the work place and they intended to keep it as such.

By the end of the day, she knew she couldn’t leave without at least wishing a good and proper evening to the mutant. She walked to his office, remaining at the doorframe as she watched him place various papers into a briefcase. Vee gently knocked, signaling her presence, to which Donnie responded by looking up to her and adorning the cutest smile.

“At least this time I didn’t scare you,” started the woman.

“As I said yesterday, I had a lot on my mind. At least today my thoughts are a little clearer, so I can’t be easily scared. Come in!” he added, gesturing for Vee to step inside.

“I won’t take much of your time, I just wanted to check up on you before leaving.”

The turtle placed some final documents in the case, snapping it closed afteward.

“I was actually about to leave as well. Want me to drive you back home?”

“Do you have something planned?” asked Vee, raising a brow with a small smile.

Donnie faked pondering, lightly drumming his fingers on his desk: “Hmm, I suspect I might be spending the evening with a pretty lady, if she agrees.”

“Lucky her, I’m sure she’ll say yes,” winked the woman.

Already on the move, Donnie offered a hand for Vee to hold, the duo then walking together in order to reach the indoor garage at some levels below.

“Is it okay, though? Did you have something to do after work?” asked the terrapin.

“I was planning on having a drink back home, but if I can share one with you, that’d be even better.”

“How about you have that drink at my place? I have a couple of bottles that might interest you.”

“You know that if I am to step foot into your place, I will be incredibly jealous, right? ... I’m sure you must be living in a luxurious place or something.”

“A little castle in the sky, but it sure is missing a beautiful presence inside of it.”

Vee blushed, definitely enjoying the compliments that were left here and there.

Once in the vehicle, the duo made their way to the streets, the conversation light and simply glad the week was finally over. Vee did notice that their path led them to streets that featured tall buildings in the Tribeca district. For a moment she felt out of place, definitely not the target audience for such a high-end environment, but her curiosity kept her on edge only to be able to get a view of Donnie’s place. They were first facing a tower with a blank stone facade, extending so high up in the sky. The entrance’s interior was as elegant and refined as the exterior, the place giving out this feeling of prestige from every corners. As they stepped inside an elevator, Vee’s eyes widened a little as she saw Donnie press the button for the 78th floor. Castle in the sky, indeed.

As they arrived at the desired level, they were soon facing the entry door, the turtle smirking to the woman as he held the doorknob and waited.

“Ready?”

“Open the damn thing already so I can cry a little inside,” answered Vee amusedly.

The door fully opened, she couldn’t retain her gasp as her eyes started to devour the interior of what was rightfully a penthouse.

The very first few rooms she saw around left her speechless, the single thought of ‘this is bigger than my whole damn apartment’ flooding her mind. She knew there would be more, her curiosity would lead her to visit every rooms anyway. She did notice french doors leading to an outdoor balcony, her instinct pushing her to get out and take in the view.

Stopping by the the rails, she could feel the refreshing gusts of wind go through her hair, accentuating the euphoria of being so high over the city.

“So, what do you think so far?”

She turned around to face Donnie, the terrapin leaning against the open doors’ frame, always this smile on his face - glad to see her reaction. Vee tried to play it cool, shrugging.

“Heh, I’ve seen better,” she joked.

“Ah damn, and I wanted to impress,” tsked the terrapin in a similar tone.

Vee couldn’t retain her smile any longer, happily trotting back inside.

“You still have your chances. Show me the rest!”

The lower level was also home to a small office and a formal living room, but the next area was what retained the woman’s attention the most.

The kitchen was a thing of beauty, Vee unable to resist the urge to feel the marbled island and counters, in awe of the space.

“Damn, I WISH I had such a kitchen. I'd be cooking all the time!”

“You fancy yourself as a chef?” questionned Donnie.

“I do like to experiment from times to times,” she winked back.

She clapsed her hands together, bringing another subject on a rather similar topic:

“SO! What should we eat? I could even prepare something if you want.”

The turtle waved that offer away.

“Nonsense, you're my guest, you shouldn't be doing anything of that sort. … I uh-” He opened some cupboards, then the fridge and its freezer. “Wow, I have almost nothing! Except one frozen pizza for dire situations,” he added, waving a box out in the open with an unpleased expression.

Vee was instantly on board: “You know what? Fuck yeah. It's Friday night, we deserve that.”

“Now that's a line of thought I can get behind.”

As Donnie was starting to preheat the oven, Vee got closer, some questions raising in her mind:

“Although, I'm kinda susprised you don't have much variety, judging by the size of this place.”

“Not gonna lie, I need to go grocery shopping,” shrugged the mutant. “Also that tends to happen at certain times of the month. Mikey has us go through our stock, fresh and canned, in order to donate to food banks and soup kitchens.”

“That's amazing and kind!” Vee was pleasantly surprised.

“He does have this city at heart, and he loves to give back to the people,” continued Donnie. “We all love the idea. Since we can afford pretty much anything we want, it's only fair that we help those in needs. … Heck, this city has done a lot for us in the past and we had to rely on what others were throwing away for us to survive. Now it's time to pay back.”

“I find that to be very admirable,” commented the woman gently. “… Not a lot of people would do the same.”

“Indeed. It’s not because we’re mutants that it means we’re savages. We do have some heart under our shells,” he playfully added.

The oven ready, the food was placed to cook and the tour then continued. As Vee was heading to the staircase in order to reach the upper level, Donnie stopped her, pressing a button nearby and opening a encased door in the wall to reveal a small elevator.

“Show off!” laughed Vee

“What?! It can be helpful!” he quipped back with a smile.

The second floor offered two sections, one part leading to the bedroom, but the other leading to entertainement and other things. They first got to the media room, the place cozy for a nice and quiet evening.

But Vee’s eyes brought her to the glass doors that led to a juliet balcony, not wasting any time to open them and take another good look at the city.

She sighed dreamily, barely hearing the faint clinking of glasses and a bottle opening back inside.

“You like the view, don’t you?” started Donnie as he next got near, offering her a glass of red wine.

“It looks and feels like a dream. Didn’t know such a place could be found in this city.”

As she took it, the terrapin next sled his free hand and forearm gently around her waist, unable to resist the need to feel her closer... Vee did not mind, actually leaning back a little against him, gladly taking a sip of her drink before answering:

“You’d be surprised, there are bigger places laying around.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t look as tasteful as yours.”

“Nonsense. It only looks good right now ‘cause you’re in here. ... Any places you’re in looks a thousand times better than before.”

Vee’s blush was more apparent as she could feel the other gently nuzzle the top of her head, slowly making his way to a temple and leaving a soft kiss there.

“You’re one heck of a charmer, did you know that?” added the woman with a smirk.

“I only aim to please, I can’t help it.”

She turned to face him, raising a brow in amusement.

“And so what now? You brought me to your place only so you could woo and please me?”

“That does sound like a good plan.”

The feel of his hand next cupping her cheek brought a shiver across the woman’s body, leaning slightly to his touch. His scales did feel foreign compared to human skin, but there was a certain softness to it as well that only made her crave for more...

“Each days I wake up and wonder if meeting you was ever a dream...,” softly said the mutant.

“I wouldn’t mind making it feel a bit more real to you.”

That brought a quiet chuck out of Donnie, but also gave him enough courage to lean in and place a sweet, slow kiss on Vee’s lips. Each instances would bring their bodies closer, the duo mindlessly making their way back inside and only breaking their kiss to leave their wine glasses on a nearby coffee table. It was that magnetism, a certain je ne sais quoi that sparked that fire in them whenever they’d get that close. Last evening’s passion was still lingering and right now it felt as if there had been no break at all since then. As Vee was starting to unbutton the mutant’s shirt, both heard a beeping sound, stopping them dead in their tracks. Their eyes fell on Donnie’s right wrist - his watch.

“Shit, the food,” said the terrapin. “I, uh, I’ll be right back,” he added, trying to gain back his senses. “I’ll get it out and let it cool for a bit on the counter.”

“Sure, go,” replied Vee with a small smile, slightly flustered as she replaced her crooked glasses and moved some strands of hair away from her face.

She took back her wine as she watched him go. A part of her was telling her to slow down, but on the other hand she couldn’t deny that the need was there - on both sides. What harm could there be? It was just about having a little bit of fun... She proceeded back to the hallway, sipping as her gaze scanned the decor. She heard hurried steps in the staircase, soon Donnie’s shape coming into view. He tried to play it cool as he noticed the woman looking at him, vaguely gesturing in the kitchen’s direction downstair.

“It’s ready whenever you want.”

Vee took another sip, then adding: “We still haven’t finished the tour yet. Let’s do that first!”

“There’s not much left, but alright.”

“‘Not much left’, says the guy who lives in a two-story penthouse WITH an elevator,” pointed Vee, amused.

The mutant chuckled, inviting the woman to follow him as he left a hand at the small of her back. The next part had been completely renovated in order to have one room be a small lab, and the other one be a private gym and training area.

“What kind of trainings do you do?” inquired Vee, looking around at the equipment.

“Mostly nin-uhm, martial arts,” Donnie quickly corrected himself.

“’Nin-uhm-martial-arts’, sounds interesting,” laughed the woman. “Any specialty?”

“Bōjutsu,“ he replied, grabbing a pole from a rack nearby.

Vee whistled in appreciation, her eyes scanning the weapon.

“I’ve heard that can pack quite a punch, surprisingly.”

“It’s good to whack some butts, not gonna lie,” added Donnie, rolling the staff in one hand. Then in one swift movement he brought the woman closer, the pole resting at her back. “It can also be helpful for some maneuvers,” he ended with a smirk.

“Such a tease,” said Vee, playfully tapping at his exposed plastron. “I wouldn’t say no to a demonstration.”

“Another day, perhaps.”

He let her free, putting the staff back to its resting place

“Aight, come on, one room left!”

“What about that lab part?” asked Vee, following the terrapin next.

“There’s nothing much to see, frankly. It’s pretty messy as well.”

“Or maybe you’re just a mad scientist and you don’t want me to see your evil inventions?”

Donnie faked a surprised gasp: “Alas, you’ve uncovered my secret!”

Both were laughing as they made their way to the last room; the master bedroom.

It was quite simple and charming, but the main feature remained the large windows that gave that same phenomenal view of the city. Vee took some time to appreciate the decor, sipping the last drops of wine from her glass.

“... I can’t imagine waking up every day with such a view,” she mused, her gaze drifting back to the windows. “You must feel on top of the world.”

“Wait, I can make it even better,” said the other as he moved to the light switch.

As soon as he turned the lights off, the room’s atmosphere changed, suddenly illuminated by a sea of stars below them.

Envelopped in darkness, yet glistening in colorful lights, Vee felt at peace - a hidden watcher over this tumultuous city. She next felt her glass gently get taken away from her hold, the mutant leaving it on a small table nearby. It didn’t take long for him to get back close to her, his arms surrounding Vee’s form as he stood behind her. The woman easily slipped into that feel good moment, closing her eyes and exposing a faint smile on her lips. He felt so strong, yet tender - the promise of a good man that would never do her wrong...

“... I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hands travelling along Vee’s arms in light touches.

Oh to hell with it. She decided to move out of Donnie’s hold, proceeding to remove her shirt. She turned around to face him, noticing his gaze studying her form and probably a bit surprised to suddenly see her in her bra. But she didn’t give a damn. That’s what she wanted.

“And I’m glad to be here,” she answered calmly.

She heard that deep churr rise again in the mutant’s chest, an expression of desire which would entice her so much in return... Vee couldn’t help bringing her hands to his exposed chest, feeling the faint vibration and appreciating the texture of his plastron. Her touch lowered, continuing her previous task of unbuttoning his shirt. The turtle helped a bit by detaching another button behind his neck and then at his lower back, allowing the clothing to be properly removed from around his shell’s attachment. Without a shirt, Vee could rightfully observe the terrapin’s muscles, her fingers lightly hovering his toned arms and appreciating every inches of what she saw. All it took was for their gazes to cross, her greens in his golds, to bring back that same need from earlier. Kiss me again and again, and never stop...

The feel of his lips was pure addiction at this point. A slow dance that lightened up all her senses. Soon enough he was sitting down on the bed, Vee inviting herself unto his lap only so she couldn’t break their kissing. To feel his three-fingered hands across her skin kept her in such an incessant need, feeling like she was drowning in-between her legs. The terrapin dared to unclasp and remove her bra, although the whole movement felt very natural. In return, the woman removed her glasses, as well as Donnie’s, taking a moment to admire his traits.

“... You have such beautiful eyes,” she cooed, next tenderly sliding his bandana away.

She couldn’t get over the feeling of his scales under her fingers, soon nuzzling his cheek and her lips trailing light kisses here and there.

“Fais-moi l’amour (make love to me),” she whispered.

Donnie answered with a stronger churr, his hands travelling lower on Vee’s body only to bring her closer into one delicious wave motion, her lower core meeting his hidden erection. The movements were repeated, getting a momentarily release for all that sudden need. It was when he started to hear quiet moans out of her that he decided ‘screw it‘ and proceeded to shift her position to have her lay on the bed, on her back. Bringing himself over her, he left some kisses on her lips before starting to trail along her features, his tone husky as he started:

“You smell nice...”

He went along her throat, his pace slow and delightful. His path led him lower and lower, from her breasts to her stomach.

“I’m sure you taste nice too,” he added.

Sitting on his knees, he brought Vee’s hips over his thighs, but he gave himself a pause, his palm caressing the front part of her jeans.

“You good? You still wanna go on with this?” asked the terrapin.

She nodded, biting her lip in delight.

“Absolutely, or else I wouldn’t be laying here, half naked. ... What about you?”

He smiled, already at the task of unbuttoning and unzipping Vee’s pants.

“I never want to stop.”

In one swift movement, he removed her panties as well, undressing her completely without issue. He took a moment to study her form softly illuminated by the lights outside. She was a work of art to his eyes and right now he felt like the luckiest man alive... He lovingly squeezed her hips and altered with languid caresses over the woman’s skin, only to next bring one of his hands closer to her core, his thumb starting in slow circles over her clit. He could feel the relief washing over Vee’s body, her waist lightly following his motion only so she could feel more. The greater her need, the more Donnie didn’t want to let go. He even got to slip one finger in her at some point, her moans an absolute delight as he took his time. After a moment, he dared get his finger out, his gaze plunged in Vee’s as he licked his digit with a low churr.

“... You do taste nice,” he commented lovingly. “Now I wonder how you’d feel around me.”

Vee was unable to speak, her heart beating so hard and throwing any reason out the window... As she saw Donnie about to unzip his pants, she got on the move and decided to take the matter in her own hands. They joined in a kiss as she got to the task, the mutant’s hands caressing her skin and sometimes getting lost in her hair, visibly as much in need as her for their imminent union. He was able to get out of his pants and underwear in a slight clumsy fashion, but he was quickly back on his knees, allowing Vee to observe him. Of a mixed pink and purple color, his penis did present some characteristics that were not human, such as a slightly flared tip. As it had been internal until now, the organ was coated in natural lubricant when out, most probably allowing for an easier penetration and accomodation to any partner. He was a bit longer than what Vee ever experienced with other partners, but right now her desire was surpassing any concerns. They didn’t need to speak, Vee bringing the mutant into another kiss, allowing herself to climb back into his lap only for their cores to meet and rub in a delicious manner. The world around them was a blur of shadows and lights, only their presence the most real and tangible aspect in the room. Their thoughts were a cloud of mixed emotions, but right now what mattered most was that they wanted this. They needed this. A demonstration of love they’ve been holding back for some time now... Donnie instinctively started to shift forward, getting Vee back on the mattress. He was careful enough to hold back some of his weight on her, having enough strength to sustain himself, even when the woman would cling to him. He felt her legs gently caress along his, finding the best position to hold close to his hips, his shell proving to be somewhat of a challenge. That slight shift in her position allowed for better friction, the turtle’s languid motions bringing delighted mewls out of Vee. At some points he could feel his tip trying to slip in, to which he thought ‘fuck it’ and decided to go all in. Vee’s gasp brought him to a pause, remaining inside of her only so she could adjust.

“You okay?” he murmured, encouraging her with some kisses here and there on her features.

She nodded, her fingers lovingly going across his scales at his neck and shoulders.

“I’ll go slow, I promise,” he added.

He’d never excuse himself if he ever were to hurt her, anyway. His churr rumbled again as he slowly moved his hips in a circular motion, Vee sticking to him like glue. Her toes were curling due to pleasure, her body soon following Donnie’s pattern only to better meet his thrusts. Some slurred “fuck” and “oh oui” would leave her at times, sometimes interrupted by kisses that translated all the desire in her. At some point Donnie shifted their position so they would lay on their sides, still facing eachother. He helped one of Vee’s leg to stay up, his palm resting behind her thigh, allowing her to feel his muscles at work.

“You feel so good,” he complimented, back into an amorous motion.

The friction created by this new proximity was bringing Vee on edge. She was unable to answer anything, her breathing making her lose her words. It was the only encouragement the mutant needed, nuzzling her as he kept going. Everything felt so natural. As if all the pieces of an intricate puzzle had finally been assembled. There was this sensation of completion between them, knowing that something in their bond would definitely shift - hopefully for the best.

“You like that, baby? I won’t stop. I wanna feel you cum around me...”

She moaned his name in return, her eyes remaining shut as she lost herself even more in the moment. Every touches and kisses heightened all sensations, bringing both of them to an edge they so very craved for. Feeling Vee’s body tensing up slightly, the terrapin knew she was close to an orgasm, lightly squeezing his hold on her and bringing her into a french kiss. His thrusts were a little more forceful, their bodies tingling in anticipation. It was when she gasped for air, her nails digging into his scales, that he knew she was high on a cloud. He could feel her walls deliciously clamp around him, the sensation bringing him to his own edge as well. His orgasm brought him to slow his pace to long and langorous pumps. Their moans intertwined, riding this wave together. Neither of them wanted to depart once the high died down, keeping close and slowly petting eachother. Vee did bring Donnie’s attention on her as she left small kisses along his jawline. His golden eyes seemed to shine in this surreal lighting, conveying many unspoken words. There was this feeling of peace he never experienced with anyone else before. An affirmation that this was where he belonged, in her arms, as well as she belonged in his. They were still connected and it felt so right...

“Well, now that really opened my appetite,” finally said Vee with a small smile.

He smiled in return, leaving a kiss on her forehead. His appetite was growing as well, and for many things too...

***

Only wearing their underwears and glasses, both were now cuddled up in blankets on the couch in the media room, the television on to a random channel as they were eating their pizza (which they had to reheat, to their amusement). As they finished their meal, Vee did not mind cuddling closer to the turtle, simply enjoying eachother’s presence. Her attention did drift from the television at some point, observing Donnie’s traits instead. She was used to seeing him with his purple bandana, but even with a bare face and only his glasses he still had a lot of charms. He had a kind face and the cutest snout, the mere sight of him a wonder when compared to humankind. The terrapin did notice her focus on him at some point, smirking.

“Yes? Can I help you, madame?”

“I have a question.”

“Outrageous,” he added playfully. “... Do tell.”

She shifted her position a bit, bringing an arm against his chest, softly petting the scales at his collarbone and base of his neck.

“Why do you and your brothers wear those bandanas? ... If it’s too personal, you don’t need to answer.”

His smile was renewed and sweet, his arm around her bringing his hand to pet her shoulder and skin in return.

“I don’t mind answering at all, although I’ll skip some details.... But long story short, it was a gift given to us by our father, years ago. It has a great significance for us and it’s still a great proof of all we had to learn and overcome in order to be who we are today.”

“Something symbolic then, that’s nice,” added Vee. “As long as it brings something positive in your life, that sure can be as nice as anything. .... Also, not gonna lie, purple looks good on you.”

“It’s my favorite and it’s the best color, that’s why! What’s your favorite color?”

Vee was amused by this simple question, but that brought her to move once more. She was now straddling the terrapin, her eyes scanning him as she answered:

“It’s green.”.

“Oh,” added the other in amusement. “So I guess I must be quite the jackpot for you?”

"You're everything I want..."

There was no ounce of hesitation as she leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss. Donnie easily gave in, his hands resting at the small of the woman’s back This time there was no shyness in-between them, only comfort and peace. Soon enough the television was nothing but background noise as they kept going for a second round that night...

((Part 9))

#it's-a-moi #business au #usual sorry for mistakes #hot damn this chapter I swear to FUCK #I wanted this to be some tasty smut - hence why it took me some time to write #I could've added another scene at the end #but I think stopping here is good enough

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not-poignant · 3 years

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Hi Pia!! I love your work and have consistently been reading it for over a couple of years, currently every TIP update u post makes my days a bit brighter 🥰

It is also thanks to you that I started posting fics last year after more than three years not doing so. While some of my fics have been wildly popular in a fandom some others don't seem to have landed as well within the same one, so I wanted to ask, what do you do about those stories that excite you but that don't seem to have found an audience yet, or that they never will?? How do you work through the fear of them not being worth your writing time?

Have a lovely day 💚🍀

Hi anon,

This is a hugely complicated question.

For a start, for writing that is for income, if I think it won't do well, I don't write it (although only to a point, I wrote The Gentle Wolf because asexual representation mattered more to me than sales, but it still hit hard when that turned out to be true). I don't like to mess with things that pay the bills. I hate that I have to look at metrics in that sense, but I do. But thankfully we're not talking about original fiction:

For fanfiction, things are different, and there might be a lot of different things going on.

For a start, almost always, when people ask me this question they are still getting some interaction on their fics, just not as much as they wanted or imagined. It can really help to like, remember to be grateful for every person who interacts, and not just the 'quantity' of interactions.

I think like... I am a big fan of 'write for yourself' but it's also true that I write for interaction on AO3. Just... only you can decide how much of the former will compensate for not much of the latter. There are people out there who are like 'if I was only writing for myself I'd keep it in my computer.' I'm not like that, and I don't vibe that way. I write for myself but enjoy sharing it, in case something that worked well for me, works well for a stranger. Everyone is different and that's eventually going to be what the crux of this post is, lol.

Popularity is influenced by the fact that some fandoms are more dead than others and lack interaction across the board in general (Persona 5, for example, is notorious for this). Some fandoms like certain tropes more than others. Some fandoms are massively popular for three weeks and then die almost immediately. And so on and so on.

Ultimately fandom is fickle, it's loyal to the stories they like more than the authors they like, and you can't predict what will be a flash in the pan and what won't be, and it doesn't always have anything to do with the quality of the fic itself or the tags you used. (This is sort of like how sketches will sometimes get tens of thousands of notes and a 300 hour single piece of quality art will get 400 notes, while a professional artist tears their hair out in pieces).

Sometimes, a fic will be more interesting to me than the reality of fandom interaction and I'll write it. Touching and Melting for Houseki no Kuni is a good example of that. A tiny fic for honestly an extremely quiet and tiny western fandom in terms of fic, which looks like it had a lot of interaction 3 years on, but had almost nothing in the first few months. And sometimes the fic idea won't be more interesting to me than the reality of the fandom interaction, and I won't write it. I go story idea by story idea.

But I've also taught myself to really think about a) the way I talk about interaction and b) to really value every individual that leaves a kudos, or comments, or public bookmarks. When I sort of started out with Shadows and Light, I remember being so bummed when a story didn't do as well, and thinking that meant it was doing 'badly.' Let's be real, Game Theory when it started out had less than a tenth of the interaction of SALverse, and I thought I had failed. If I'd given up at that point, well... all of this wouldn't exist.

And then just looking at fanfiction, it's like.. well, sometimes fics do a lot worse than other fics, there's usually at least one person who will read it and leave a kudos. I remind myself that to that person, the story mattered or meant something, which meant I didn't just write it for myself anymore, there is interaction.

This is much harder on stories that have zero comments, and zero kudos, obviously, no one likes to feel as though they are shouting into the void. But it's also my experience that writers who've had popular fics, don't often have 'zero kudos fics' when they say a fic is doing really badly. They just..maybe need to value the individual interactions alongside how good a 'mass' of interaction can feel, or alongside how good 'quantity' can feel. I do really think that's a skill that a lot of like...enthusiastic fanfiction writers have mastered or at least are learning.

Sometimes it really helps to have somewhere in private to vent to when you feel emotionally overloaded or insecure, and honestly sometimes it can help to re-evaluate.

For some people, writing fic when a certain threshold of interaction isn't reached, just isn't worth it. I can't convince people like that to keep writing. If there's a deep seated 'this isn't worth it' then stop doing it.

If there's 'this is insecurity and I'm not good at valuing everyone and I feel down right now but it'll pass' then...work quietly and patiently and compassionately on strengthening your resilience and your trust in your own writing, and your ability to value individuals who interact and engage on your fics. If you don't do this, you may end up bitter and resentful, and that can influence your entire relationship with fandom, and worse, the people who interact with your fics.

Also, finally:

How do you work through the fear of them not being worth your writing time?

In fanfiction, I do not base whether something is worth my writing time on the quantity of people who will interact with it. It is worth my writing time because I'm really excited to write it, and I want to share it, even if people don't respond immediately, or even if only one person ever comments.

I don't...have this fear that you have based on the things you're basing it on - my fears are different to yours. It's fanfiction. It's worth my writing time because I'm eager to write or fix or alter something in canon or I want to make the two boys fuck because no one else was going to, and because I can generally trust that one person out there will probably read it, even if I go back over 10 years ago and my Livejournal fics were only getting like one comment per chapter. If that.

If your metric for 'worthiness' is 'quantity of interaction' then - I'm the wrong person to talk to, I'm literally motivated to write fanfiction by completely different factors to you. I didn't start SAL knowing it would get popular, I thought people would hate me because I killed Jamie in the first chapter, and up until that point none of my fics had been popular.

I can't convince you on the things that convince me, when our foundational motivations are different. If you want quantity and that's what 'worth' means to you, I don't know what to tell you, I would never have written SAL in the first place if I hadn't been the kind of person to just write fanfic for almost no / or no interactions, and still enjoy that single person who said 'I really enjoyed this thank you for writing.' I didn't spring into being as someone who was writing fics that got a lot of interaction, that came...years later, y'know?

So what is worthy to me sounds like it's also just different to what is worthy to you. Ultimately, there are people only writing fanfiction on the basis of how many people interact with them, and...I don't know how those people keep choosing to write honestly, and I think a lot eventually abandon it, because there's no algorithm to crack in order to be successful every time. Maybe...remind yourself that you've had popular fics in the past and therefore you will again? And that you can't get to that point without less popular fics on the step ladder in the meantime? Therefore, even a fic that doesn't feel 'worth your time' will be a stepping stone to the one that is?

Imho, I think my fics are worth my time because I enjoy reading them once they're finished. And then I think they're worth my time because other people enjoy them. Having a popular fic is fun and nice, but honestly, often a fluke, and doesn't always say anything about the quality of the writing (some of the most popular Yuri! on Ice stories with 10,000+ kudos were like...not always...the most well-written stories, but people were desperate for Content, and it was certainly that).

But yeah, how I think about fanfiction is very different to how I think about 'fiction that has to earn an income.' Ultimately I don't want to apply the latter philosophies to the former, other people do. If you're applying 'this needs to hit a certain threshold of interaction to be worthy' as your basis for writing fanfiction, then...we have very very different motivations for creating content in fandom! And I'm the wrong person to ask.

As I said, it's complicated, lol.

#asks and answers #pia on writing #pia on fanfiction #people have different values they bring to writing fanfiction #i've seen folks just say 'it's not worth it' if they're not getting like a certain amount of kudos or comments #and idk #i don't relate to that #which i know is hard to believe now but like #i *literally started out*#posting fics on livejournal and on livejournal communities #thinking it was a small miracle if like #*a single person commented*#and that's what sustained me for years #if that would've made you quit #we're here for different reasons anon

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the1918 · 4 years

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Some of you are familiar with my Sugar Daddy Bucky x Stevie AU, and if you are, I have some exciting news!

Sugar Baby Stevie is genderfluid!

(In an honest coincidence I happened across this information just before International Non-Binary People’s Day-- which is today!)

I have never written a nonbinary character before, so I was very excited when Stevie finally told me this! I’d like to share with everyone how I arrived at this conclusion as an author, and also tell you a little bit more about Steve.

First, some background. When I originally wrote “All the Sugar in the World”, I set out to write a totally gratuitous porn-without-plot (PWP) story in which:

Sugar Daddy Bucky and his husband Steve shared a feminization kink. The point of this mutual kink was that they both got off on Steve, a self-identifying man (who I then assumed to be cisgendered), playing the heavily feminine character of “Daddy’s Pretty Wife”.

This was a “sometimes but not all the time” bedroom dynamic for them and it was (and still is) purely sexual. “Daddy’s Pretty Wife” is a role play character for Steve, not an identity. This is the reason why in the story, Bucky uses she/her pronouns out loud when talking to Steve in-character, but refers to Steve by he/him pronouns in Bucky’s head.

As the author, I wrote both Steve and Bucky as cisgendered men, and I specified that Bucky is attracted exclusively to other men (Steve’s sexuality was not addressed).

In the other stories and head canons I have written in this AU I have always written Steve as being moderately to very effeminate both in and outside of the bedroom. This was and remains independent of the Daddy’s Pretty Wife role play character. It was made clear that he enjoys looking/feeling pretty while still identifying as a man.

So that’s how the character started for me. But lately, as I have been preparing to write a “how they met” and “first times” set of stories, I’ve thought more and more about Steve’s characterization outside of sexual role play and I’ve realized Steve’s truth: Stevie would not feel comfortable in a strict gender expression box!

Once I realized this, I immediately got writer’s block. It was like Steve would not let me write his character without recognizing that part of their identity and fleshing it out in my head. So... that’s why we’re here! I want you all to get to know Sugar Baby Stevie better. I’d also like to keep this on my blog as a standing author’s note that I can refer readers back to, because I do not plan on making this one, lone aspect of the character central to any given story; the most important and most immutable aspect of Steve’s character remains-- as always-- that Stevie likes to bounce on Daddy’s cock.

Sugar Baby Stevie:

Stevie is a genderfluid AMAB (assigned male at birth) person who prefers he/him pronouns almost all of the time, but is also fine with they/them.

But about 5% of the time, Stevie wakes up in the morning and says, “You know what? Today I am a woman.” On these days Steve prefers she/her pronouns but is still fine with they/them. Steve refers to these days as her “girly days” (or weeks).

Steve goes by “Steve” or “Stevie” no matter what kind of gender expression day they’re having. Stevie is a nickname, not a feminized version of Steve.

Steve is Bucky’s “husband” most days, but his “wife” on girly days. Steve is Bucky’s partner every day.

Bucky checks in with Steve every morning when they wake up with their own little language. He might say, “who’s my pretty sweetheart today?” and Steve might respond, “I’m your baby boy” or “Daddy’s best girl” or “who knows?”... or Steve might groan and roll over and say “ask me later Daddy, I’m sleepy”.

Steve does not experience body dysphoria on her girly days. However, she does sometimes experience gender euphoria when Daddy Bucky or others gender her correctly! Daddy loves to make his baby girl smile bright like that.

Steve loves to feel pretty no matter what kind of gender expression day it is. He loves soft colors like pinks and pastels, and he loves glitter, and all of that is still true when she’s having girly days. Oh, and lace. Steve loves lace.

One of the many reasons Steve loves Bucky is that-- unlike some people Steve has encountered in the past-- Bucky does not fetishize Steve’s genderfluidity. The feminization kink they share (the “Daddy’s Pretty Wife” persona) is completely independent of Steve’s actual gender expression. They can even enjoy that role play on girly days if they want to and it still has the same impact, no differently than a cisgendered woman roleplaying a sexy French maid in bed. It’s a character.

Daddy refers to Steve’s ass as a “pussy” or a “cunt” regardless of Steve’s current gender expression, because Steve likes how dirty it sounds and because it’s a taboo-sounding kind of talk that gets them both going.

I have a lot of other head canons on this topic (Stevie is soooo talkative now that they’ve opened up to me about their gender!), but I’ll stop there for now.

Now that we know more about Steve’s own gender dynamic, I want to address (as a standing A/N) how my “author epiphany moment” has impacted my previous works in this series and how I have changed them (including re-writes and added author’s notes):

The AU/Series name has been changed from “Sugar Daddy Bucky and Twunk Stevie” to just “Sugar Daddy Bucky and Stevie”, because ��twunks” are boys and sometimes Steve is not a boy!

“All The Sugar In The World” remains largely unchanged, because the premise is still completely valid in the context of Steve’s genderfluidity. The story takes place on a day when Steve identifies as a man (which he does most days) and Bucky is aware of that, which was also the situation when I posted the story originally.

The main thing that has been changed about ATSITW is Bucky’s sexuality. In the original story it was implied that that Bucky is attracted exclusively to men (”gay as a daffodil”, my ode to Freddie Mercury). Looking back, I realized that what I was really feeling was that Bucky is attracted primarily to masculine bodies like Steve’s. Given the fact that Bucky is attracted to Steve independent of his chosen gender expression, I think he would more closely identify as bisexual with a preference for men. TL;DR: Bucky can’t get hung up on pronouns when his mouth is too full of Steve’s pussy to pronounce them.

The remaining fics and ficlets in that series all took place on “he/him” days, so again, no changes required.

I am SO excited to write more of these two in the future. They are all different kinds of kinky and they are so very, very in love <3

Thank you so much to @andysmountains for being my counselor through this exploration and providing sensitivity reading, hype, and incredible head canons. Also, shout-out to @cantabile-l for being a magical trove of head canon detail.

Last--- I myself do not currently identify as non-binary, so I welcome input from my NB readers who have thoughts/comments/concerns/head canons about Steve!

#sugar baby stevie #my fic

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un-beel-ievable · 4 years

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Before October’s Gone (Mammon × reader) | songfic

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

Inspired by Cimorelli’s song Before October’s Gone! You can listen to it here.

One of the longer fics I’ve ever written...I hope you guys enjoy it! I worked really hard on this one :3

_____

♪ Our phone calls got shorter

And the nights they got longer

You stopped replying

And I saw you with her

You tell me you miss me

I feel special for a second

But then you turn around and show me that you didn't meant it

I listen to your voicemail from last September

And I bet that you don't remember leaving it

But it's all I got

My last piece of you ♪

“Mammon!” The chirpy voice at the other end of the line made up for the weeks that he’d missed hearing it. Curse Lucifer for implementing the stupid roster for phone calls —having to wait his turn while his brothers got to listen your cheerful voice and melodic laugh was beginning to drive him up the wall. He understood why Lucifer would have to put such a rule in place for his brothers, but surely the peacock could loosen up a little for him right? The others may be “eating up too much of their time”, but such an offensive statement could never be applied to him. After all, he was your first. “Yo! How’ve ya been? Wait, lemme guess. You’ve just been wanderin’ around in that sad, depressin’ human world with no place to go and nothin’ to do...right?”

You laugh, and his heart does a somersault in his chest. How he’s missed it. Nothing in all of the three realms could make him happier than hearing the sound of your laughter; it’s like music to his ears. Knowing that he was the one that drew such an adorable sound from your lips was the cherry on top. The first time he’d heard you giggle, he’d sprinted back to the House of Lamentation to begin devouring joke book after joke book to ensure his chances of getting to hear it again. Hearing his brothers criticize him for acting like a fool had always been something that bothered him in the past, but your arrival had put a spin on things —if amping up his antics was something that got you to crack a smile, he was all for being the butt of his brothers’ jokes. “How’d you know?”

He grins. “What did ya expect? I mean, I was your first, right? Your first demon. Which means we share a special sorta bond! I know these things!”

Another laugh. Mammon wonders if he should shoot for a third time, but you don't give him the chance to try. “Listen, Mammon...it was great hearing from you, but I have to go.” The bitter taste of disappointment fills his mouth. He’d been looking forward to this phone call with the eagerness of a child awaiting to open their Christmas presents...and you had to leave already? The two of you had barely even talked for 5 minutes! That’s so unfair! “What? Already? C’mon, we barely got to talk—”

His whine of complaint cuts off abruptly when he picks up on the sound of someone else’s voice on your end of the call. Curious, Mammon turns up the volume of the call and strains his ears. It’s a male’s voice, one that sounds awfully familiar… He frowns. “Is that Solomon?”

“Yeah! We’ve been hanging out a lot more ever since we returned to the Human World! Keeping each other company and all that. Let me just pass him my DDD, I think he wants to say hi—”

“Nah, don’t bother. Y’all have fun, I’ll talk to you again soon.” Mammon hangs up before you can get the chance to say anything else and flops back against the pillow pile on his unmade bed with a sigh. Solomon, huh? The two of you sticking together made sense —after all, you were the only two humans living in a realm of demons for an entire year. Of course you would form a bond over this shared experience. Still, the idea of you hanging out with Solomon frequently didn’t sit well with him. He was your first, if anyone should be hanging out with you, it should be him.

Envy was Levi’s thing, not his. But there was no stopping the jealousy that was blossoming in his chest. In an attempt to keep his emotions in check, Mammon powers on his DDD and pulls up the voice message that you’d left him a few months ago. You were still residing in the Devildom then, back when he didn’t have to resort to playing back an old voicemail to make him feel less lonely.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that you’re lying in bed beside him, and not by someone else’s side an entire realm away.

♪ I heard all the rumors

I didn't want to believe it

You barely mentioned her once

I didn't think anything of it

Sitting there on my driveway

Said you could listen to me all night

Now you're the boy who never meant it

And I'm just the girl who "took it all the wrong way" ♪

You’d always been fascinated by the sports car that he kept permanently parked in the upper floor of his bedroom. The both of you had gotten into a playful argument over justifying the reason behind his “absurd decision” (your words, not his). Out of the dozens of possible reasons that they’d managed to come up with during the hour or so their discussion had lasted, your personal favourite had been “to allow a quick escape from one of Lucifer’s extensive monologues”. He hadn’t even bothered to come up with a counterargument for that. One, it wasn’t entirely false; he wouldn’t deny that getting behind the driver’s seat in order to get away from one of the peacock’s pointless lectures wasn’t a thought that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. And secondly...the expression that you wore while you were coming up with all of these ridiculous thoughts was just too cute. Your brow would furrow in concentration, and your tongue would peek out between her lips —you looked just like the cats that starred in those “cat blepping” videos that Satan would relentlessly spam his DDD with. The way your face lit up when you’d thought of a reason satisfactory enough for your standards was even more adorable —Mammon knew that as long as you kept directing that megawatt grin at him, he’d go along with anything that you said.

At some point during their conversation, the two of you had relocated from the couch you were perched on to the backseat of his car. Mammon doesn’t even remember whose idea it was to move in the first place —he couldn’t recall if this was the result of you pleading with him to allow you to take a better look at the vehicle or if he’d suggested it to you first. He doesn’t even remember what the both of you had talked about once you’d gotten in the car; the topic of their conversation had switched course multiple times. What was etched into his mind’s eye for the rest of time, however, was how attentively you’d gazed up at him when he was talking. You seemed as mesmerised by his words as he was by yours. The notion that someone genuinely wanted to listen to everything that he had to say felt foreign to him; his brothers had brushed him off as nonsensical and annoying a long time ago. You made him feel important.

“...Mammon! HEY, STUPIDMAMMON! Did you even hear anything I just said? Sheesh…”

Mammon’s train of thought is derailed by a pillow that hits him square in the face. Normally, such an action would trigger a rowdy pillow fight that usually ended in Lucifer barging in and bringing an early end to an evening of fun. But today Mammon was so lost in recollections of the past that he barely even kicks up a fuss as he peels the cushion off his face. “Huh?” Levi raises an eyebrow at the second born from where he’s seated across the room. Mammon could be a moron at times, but rarely was he this unaware of his surroundings. “I said, did you see MC’s latest Devilgram post? They were at this Human World anime convention with Solomon, you know the one I told you about last week? The one that Ruri-chan’s voice actress was going to appear at? MC’s soooooooo lucky that they got to see her perform live. I can’t believe Lucifer wouldn’t let me go, it’s so unfair…”

Mammon usually tuned out of the conversation entirely whenever Levi starts going off on a tangent about something related to his animes, but the mention of your name had caught his attention. You were at a convention? With Solomon? Like...on a date? Mammon snatches up his DDD from where it’s lying on the armrest of his seat and loads up your Devilgram page. As usual, the sight of your bright smile is enough to cause his heart to skip a beat —you’re so breathtakingly beautiful that it’s unfair. But the sight of the male posing beside you in the picture causes his mood to turn sour quickly. Solomon. Was that the human sorcerer’s arm around your waist?

Flipping his DDD over so that he doesn’t have to look at the screen, he sets it back down on the armrest with enough force that it actually causes Levi to cut his ramble short mid sentence. Pretending that he didn’t notice the odd look that Levi was giving him, Mammon settles back in his seat and closes his eyes.

If there was something going on between you and Solomon, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know about it.

♪ On that October night when I let you go

You didn't even try to make me stay, no

I didn't know that you could be so cold

Like the Minnesota snow

Somehow I always knew we'd end up this way

And I hope you feel happy someday

I just wanted you to open up to me

But now that's on the list of things you never did ♪

Mammon had spent the last couple of months waiting for this moment. You were back. Back in the Devildom, back in your room in the House of Lamentation, back by his side. A new semester of classes was something he’d never looked forward to in the past, but things were different this time. A new school term brought copious amounts of coursework and misery, sure, but it also brought you back to the Devildom. You’d returned from your vacation in the Human World with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, armed with souvenirs for each and every one of your favourite demons. Mammon was thrilled by the small paper bag bulging with keychains and other assorted trinkets that you’d thrusted into his hands, but the one gift that he’d appreciated the most was the warm embrace that you’d pulled him into.

The next few days pass in a blur, with Mammon still finding it difficult to believe that you’ve really returned (he has to keep pinching his arm to reassure himself that this isn’t a cruel joke that his subconscious is playing on him). He'd been there to greet you upon your arrival in the Devildom. And he’d seen you during meals and passed by you in the hallways...but he hadn’t actually gotten the opportunity to spend proper one on one time with you —you were too busy settling in and making up for lost time with everyone else. Until now.

Seated atop of a hill overlooking the rest of the Devildom, the vantage point gives the both of you a spectacular view of the expansive shopping district. You can even spot the town’s affectionately dubbed “party central” —also known as the area where most of the popular bars and clubs are located— in the distance; or at the very least, the colourful lights that illuminate every building in that part of town. It’s quite a sight to behold, but the hustle and bustle that can be seen even from a distance makes you appreciative of the fact that you and Mammon are far away from the crowds of Denizens enjoying an evening out. You shiver when a passing gust of wind rustles the leaves of the tree overlooking the bench you’re seated on.

“Cold? Let the GREAT Mammon warm ya up.” Before you can even roll your eyes at the suggestive nature of that statement, Mammon has shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it snugly around you. Not that you’re entirely surprised by his words at this point, this isn’t the first time he used that line with you. Just like every other time he’s done this, he doesn’t remove his arm afterwards, keeping it draped around your shoulders. But unlike the previous times he’s pulled this stunt, you don’t nestle into his side, or even lean your head against his shoulder. He feels a pang in his chest, but he refuses to let it show on his face. “So how was your vacation in the Human World? I bet it had to be pretty borin’ without the GREAT Mammon there to keep ya company.”

“It was alright.” A pause. “Listen, Mammon...There’s something that I need to tell you.”

The smile that Mammon’s attempting to keep plastered to his face wavers, but he nods at you in encouragement as you chew on your lower lip anxiously. When your next course of action is to raise up your left hand instead of carrying on the conversation, his brows knit together in confusion. He’s about to ask if this was some kind of odd ritual and whether or not you’d joined a cult in your absence, but then he spots it. The glint of silver on your ring finger.

His jaw drops.

Noticing the expression on his face, you hurry to clear up any misunderstandings before he —understandably— jumps to the wrong conclusion. “It’s not what you think! I’m not engaged or anything, it’s just a promise ring. Solomon and I...we got together two weeks ago. I meant to tell everyone, but everything’s been so crazy ever since I got back —I’ve barely had the time to catch my breath, let alone make such a big announcement.. But now that thing’s have quieted down a little...I wanted to tell you first. After all, you are my first demon.”

The Avatar of Greed was uncharacteristically quiet as you rambled on. When he finally speaks up again, his voice lacks the boisterous energy that usually radiates from him. “I am, aren’t I?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, but there’s no humour in the sound. “You should head back to the house without me. I’ll catch up.”

“Mammon—”

“Look, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’m fine.” Mammon takes both of your hands in his and gazes up at you with earnest wide eyes, as if his overexaggerated acting skills were enough to sell his words to you. Ridiculous as it may be, his ploy seemed to work —or perhaps you just didn’t care enough about the hailstorm of emotional turmoil that flickered in his azure hued gaze. It didn’t matter. Either way, you were gone before Mammon could change his mind and convince you to not to leave him. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and blurs his field of vision, but he doesn’t take his gaze off of you as you disappear down the path that leads to the House of Lamentation.

You don’t even bother to turn around and look at him.

♪ Maybe sometimes things just have to end

Maybe sometimes there's just no explaining it

But you could've let me know

You'd be moving on

You'd be moving on before Octobers gone ♪

#obey me shall we date #obey me shall we date game #obey me game #obey me shall we date fanfiction #obey me shall we date fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #obey me shall we date reader insert #obey me shall we date self insert #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #gender neutral reader #self insert #reader insert #obey me shall we date songfic #songfic #angst #obey me angst #obey me shall we date angst

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Watch Me Burn (P.7)

Title: Watch Me Burn (Part Seven) Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Cas. Fem!Reader x AU!Sam. This fic was inspired by both parts of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem & Rihanna. Castiel and the reader are toxic for each other and keep falling back together until the reader moved away. It’s been years and now she is back home, waltzing back into Castiel’s life. She is determined to do better this time, to make them work, but outside forces as well as the scars the two have left on each other weave their way into their reconciliation. Will they be able to overcome the past and new threats to their sustainability? Words: 3,076 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Extreme angst, domestic violence, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, BDSM trust breaking, fluff, language, alcohol abuse, !!! eventual !!! happiness

Chap 6 || Chap 8 || Fanfic masterpost || Masterpost (mobile)

Sam walked in with Dean and you locked eyes only briefly before turning your gaze back to Castiel.

“He’s here. Longer hair,” you said quietly, barely audible above the music. Castiel threw a glance in his general direction and cocked an eyebrow. “I know, I know.”

“He’s coming,” Castiel warned you quietly, before saying at a normal volume to not arise suspicion, “This should be a fun night though for you guys.”

Suddenly, Sam was at your side. He had switched his jacket out for a button up cardigan over his dress shirt, his tie gone. It made him stick out in this bar, but you knew that was his attempt at dressing down.

“What are you ordering?” he asked you, leaning in close. You guessed he was purposely ignoring Castiel; he was good at making people feel invisible.

Castiel was staring at Sam, a piqued expression that only you would be able to recognize. It was not exactly a tight-lipped smile but close to it.

“Uh, I haven’t yet. I was just talking to Cas,” you said, gesturing at him standing opposite the bar.

Turning his attention to Castiel, Sam gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Sam,” he said, holding out his hand. “Worked with Y/N back in Austin.”

Castiel, thankfully, knew to play it cool. He reached out, taking Sam’s hand in turn, giving it a shake. The two of them held on a couple seconds longer than necessary, eyes piercing the other.

“I’ve heard,” was all Castiel said calmly in return.

You did not miss the slight raised brow Sam displayed at Castiel’s comment, no doubt wondering how much Castiel knew. He brushed the comment off quickly though.

“What are you going to order then, Y/N?”

“Probably a double whiskey with diet,” Castiel answered for you, throwing you a small smirk. He picked up the glass and went to work without waiting for you to confirm. It was your go to, that was correct. But you knew he was trying to prove a point to Sam by not even asking you. He knew you better, he wanted Sam to know that.

“Hmm. Whiskey,” Sam said surprised, rising his brows in surprise. “Far different than all the Paloma’s I’ve seen you down. Too many too count.”

Castiel snorted, drawing Sam’s attention. “What? Was she trying to get wasted? Y/N can’t handle her tequila very well.” He placed your whiskey in front of you.

Giving a small nervous laugh at their surreptitious shots at the other, you said, “Yeah, that’s true. But I paced myself.”

“Sometimes,” Sam quipped. You narrowed your eyes slightly at him and he chuckled. “Sorry. Right, you never got drunk. Ever.” He winked at Castiel across the bar. “I’ll take a Tom Collins.” You made a disgusted face and Sam chided you, “Yeah, yeah. I know. You hate gin.”

“Thanks,” Sam told Castiel. “I’ll see you at the table then, Y/N.”

Sam turned and left your side. When you met Castiel’s eyes again, he cocked a brow.

“I have a lot of questions,” he told you before walking off to take someone else’s order. You waited for him to return after a few minutes and cut in quickly.

“I know, I know. He’s pretentious.”

“You could say that again. What is he even wearing?”

You laughed a little and said, “That is him – and Dean, to be honest – trying to be casual. I can assure you.”

“So… not what I would expect from you.”

“There’s probably a reason why it didn’t work out.”

“I can think of a couple reasons, actually,” Castiel responded, throwing a glance over at where your coworkers were sitting.

Snorting, you nodded in agreement, “I know.” You took a drink of your whiskey and raised your glass half heartedly to him. “Here goes nothing. I can’t promise he will behave himself, but I’ll do my damndest to stay away.”

“Don’t think that’s possible with the seating arrangement at the table now. Looks like the only empty seat is next to him,” Castiel said sounding sour.

“Of course,” you muttered, turning around, and seeing what he said was true. You forced yourself to walk towards the table.

Playing it cool, you thanked Sam when he pulled the chair out from beside him to allow you to sit down.

“I ordered a couple of baskets of fries for the table and some deep-fried pickles,” Charlie informed you. “I told everyone that the burger is solid but if they are looking to be adventurous, that tater tot pizza is also good.”

“How much did you eat last time you were here?” Dean asked jokingly.

“Oh, shove it. I’ve been here a couple times with Y/N. It wasn’t all in one shot,” Charlie returned. “Thankfully, they live upstairs and I was able to crash on the couch one time! Don’t judge me, Tara, it was on a Friday!”

Tara held up her hands, “I wasn’t going to. I know you’re responsible.”

“Upstairs?” Sam questioned you.

You nodded, “Yeah. The floor above. It’s convenient.”

“Very,” Tara agreed and then asked, “But, do you not get sleep sometimes?”

“It’s fine most of the week. Fridays and Saturdays are a little wild, but I’m used to it. It’s nothing new. I’ll finally fall asleep in the early morning and can sleep in.”

“I would indulge so much in bar food, I would probably gain fifty pounds,” Charlie joked.

“Same,” your coworker Sahir agreed, raising his glass to which him and Charlie took a quick drink.

“I make sure that doesn’t happen. I meal plan,” you assured her. “It’s one thing I had to set right when I moved in. He was eating like absolute shit. I told him no one really likes quinoa, but his body will thank him.”

“Ew, gross,” Charlie said, her nose scrunching. “I hate quinoa.”

“It’s a power food, Charlie,” Sam told her.

“Don’t care.”

“I gotta agree with Sam and Y/N. Although, still with you, Charlie. I don’t like it but sometimes you gotta suck it up and play chess, not checkers, with your health,” Tara chimed in.

“Exactly!” Sam agreed. He turned his attention to you and asked, “You still on that 5 on, 2 off?”

He was referring to the exercise program you had been on while in Austin. One that he had strongly encouraged to get yourself in shape, something that was extremely personally important to him. You knew you could never be as fit or healthy as him and had tried to please him for a while.

Shrugging, you said, “More like… 3 to 4 on… maybe one of those days being yoga only. To keep flexibility.” Charlie snorted into her drink and you cocked your head. Sahir and Jennifer laughed as well and you demanded, “What?”

“Just… I make everything sexual,” Charlie laughed.

“Jesus, Charlie,” Tara said, but smirking despite herself.

Charlie apologized whilst laughing.

The food was delivered, more drinks, and even more jokes shared. Sam was leaning in close the whole time, his eyes roaming freely and Castiel was most certainly keeping an eye on you across the bar. You tried to stay straight up, not leaning yourself towards Sam while still maintaining a calm demeanor. Sam, outwardly, was not seeming to notice.

Your attention was drawn to the door as you saw Aspen walk in and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. All you needed tonight was her flaunting herself around Castiel when you were already high strung. You knew it was normal for her to go to the bar for a drink, but you knew it was Castiel she was aiming for.

Sam’s arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing your attention back.

<> <> <>

“Hey, Cas,” Aspen chirped, leaning on the bar.

Castiel greeted her and asked how she had been since he had not seen her since the first night Y/N had come back. He was not surprised considering the air in which she had left in.

Holding out her credit card, Aspen said, “My regular, I think, to start out.”

When she looked back was the moment Sam’s arm slipped around Y/N’s shoulders. He pulled her towards him, close in proximity. Aspen rose her brows in surprise and looked back at Castiel who was placing her drink down in front of her.

“Wow, uh, who’s with Y/N?”

Castiel’s gaze moved over to the table and his jaw tightened when he saw Sam’s arm around her. Y/N was forcing a smile as she spoke to him.

“Coworker,” Castiel answered tightly.

“Oh…” Aspen trailed off, throwing another look over her shoulder. “All of them coworkers?”

“Yes.”

“They close…?”

Castiel pierced her with a stare and said, “I’m assuming you want your tab open?”

Aspen switched gears, nodding. “Yep. I’ll be here awhile. Maureen agreed to drive me home… if need be.”

“How kind of her,” Castiel chuckled lightly, purposely ignoring her insinuation.

<> <> <>

“Remember when Larson fell down those stairs outside The Outlook?” Sam asked you, his fingers pressing into your shoulder.

“Unfortunately,” you answered, smiling, trying to keep yourself from jerking away from his embrace.

“You tried so hard to get him to stop drinking. I mean, we all did. But it did fuck all to stop it.”

“Was he injured?” Dean asked, raising his brows.

Sam laughed, “Surprisingly, no! I don’t know how he just tucked and rolled, like his body was reacting defensively even in his state. The man could barely order a new drink. And that’s when the bartender was like, ‘nope, no more’. And cut the whole group off because they were afraid someone else would order him a drink and give it to him. Ruined our whole night. Well, momentarily.”

You stiffened then. That night was the first night the two of you had hooked up. That was the sole reason he had brought it up.

“The night continued after that for the rest of us after we got his drunk ass to bed.”

You noticed Castiel approaching the table. Thinking he was going to table touch, you asked Charlie quickly, “You want a refill?”

“Duh,” she said and then noticed Castiel. “Oh, hey! Perfect! Can I get a refill?”

Castiel gave a curt laugh and said, “When I get back. I’m on break. Y/N? Wanna come outside with me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said quickly. You saw Sam watching you out of the corner of your eye as you pushed your chair back, his arm leaving you, and grabbed your jacket. “Don’t you need your coat? It’s chilly.”

“I’ll grab it on the way out,” Castiel responded as you came up to him. His arm slipped around you, guiding you away from the table. His hand was tight on your waist, protective.

Castiel did not take you outside. Instead, he led you to the back room and you followed his lead, a weight pulling down inside. You knew he was not pleased with how he was acting. As soon as he closed the door behind the two of you and locked it, he turned to face you. Getting in your face, he did not miss a beat.

“He’s been laying his hands on you all night.”

Throwing your hands out in defeat, you said, “I’ve tried skirting away, Cas. I can’t do that too much without making a scene though.”

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

Your mouth fell open.

<> <> <>

“Charlie,” Maureen greeted approaching the table, two shots in hand as Tara, Sahir, and Jennifer went out for a smoke.

Charlie straightened up, a smile on her face. “Oh, hello! Maureen, right?”

Maureen nodded and said, “Just spotted you across the bar and thought I would pop by to say hi. We did have a good few rounds last time!”

Smirking, Charlie said, “I kind of remember.” This caused Maureen to laugh, as well as the other people at the table.

“I just thought I would bring this over for you. Rum, right?”

“Oh, yeah. You got that for me?” Charlie asked surprised.

Maureen nodded, “You bought me one last time and I did not reciprocate. I hold pretty strong convictions about that. Speaking of which, I saw Y/N and Cas leaving out the back. He’s not off work yet, is he? He still owes me a shot since someone spilled mine at last call last time I was here, and I won’t be able to cash in without him.”

Charlie shook her head, “No, he went on his break and asked Y/N to go with him.”

Maureen snorted, “I wouldn’t be surprised to see them come back flush.”

Sam’s jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“They always had their ways in the past.”

Charlie let out a laugh, “Oh, do tell.”

“Just leaving to go… relieve themselves.”

“Maybe we should not pry into our coworker’s business,” Sam advised Charlie sharply.

Charlie stumbled a little at his change in demeanor, “Oh… right.”

Maureen smirked at Sam and said, “It’s not quiet business in this bar. Castiel has owned this bar for years… him and Y/N are old news. Them being back together scared a lot of people. It was a nightmare half the time to be honest. But… they seem to have grown up. Sigh of relief there.”

Sam straightened up at this comment. “How do you mean?”

“Just drunken fights, a couple cop calls. Break up, break off. They were young and stupid. Can’t say I wasn’t the same myself.”

Charlie was the one now becoming uncomfortable for her friend. “Oh, well… I mean, the past is the past.”

“The past does inform the future,” Sam quipped, and Dean nodded in agreement.

<> <> <>

You snapped, “I told you what happened between us and where he stands in my company. He’s not just some… schmuck! He’s a junior partner!”

Shaking his head, Castiel said, “Junior partner or not…” He trailed off, beginning to walk forward, forcing you to go backwards. “He needs to know where you stand with me! You apparently need to be reminded too.”

Castiel turned you around in a swift movement and pushed you chest first into the wall, pinning an arm behind your back. You gasped his name, trying to look back at him but he kept you firmly in place.

“I am just reminding you who you belong to,” he growled into your ear.

Your breath shuddered, feeling his hands grasp the hem of your dress, yanking it up to your hips. Slipping his fingers into your underwear, he stroked your lips.

“I pay attention to you, Y/N. I treat you right,” Castiel breathed as he played with your sex. “I dote on you, angel. Don’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered.

You keened as he worked you up, fingers slipping inside to caress you. You pressed back against him, begging for more. His grip tightened on your wrist, holding you more firmly in place and you stilled your movement, following his direction. You stood there, letting him rile you up, biting your lip.

“Look at you… so needy,” he said breathlessly. You could hear the want in his voice, feel his fingers move more freely, coated in your arousal. He leaned forward to be closer to your face. “Are you needy, angel?”

“Yes, sir. Only for you,” you told him obediently, giving him pleading eyes.

Castiel kissed your temple and praised, “I know, baby.”

Pulling away, his fingers left you to pull your underwear down and you kicked them off in tandem. His cock slid in easily in your wet folds. He sighed in content, his hands gripping your waist as he fully seated inside you.

“That’s my girl,” he purred.

His fingers dug in as he drove into you, taking you against the wall. You stayed sturdy, holding on. He drove up sharply into you again and you bit down on your cheeks.

Kissing up your neck, Castiel demanded, “You gonna do better for me? Let them know who you belong to?”

“Yes,” you said.

“Angel, don’t make me have to work harder for this,” he warned, his breath hot on your neck.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mhm, you’re not saying that with too much conviction. You’re too quiet,” He squeezed your nipple hard, causing you to keen loudly before burying your face into the wall, fingers digging in beside you. “We can do better than that, can’t we?”

His fingers closed in around your jawline, pulling your head to the side, you following his movement obediently. He wanted your mouth exposed, your noises to be heard.

You nodded quickly, saying louder, “Yes, sir!”

Castiel drove deep and quick, bouncing you against the wall. “I know you can do better. You’re so beautiful. I love hearing you scream for me.”

“I belong to you!” you declared, knowing damn well anyone walking outside the room could hear the two of you. He was jeopardizing his place of work for this. What rumors would fly of people being railed in rooms in the bar. “Fuck me, please! Let me cum!”

Castiel laughed, nipping at your ear. “Angel, you can’t help yourself, can you?”

His speed increased, his hand falling from your face to come to your nub, circling fervently. He praised you, laying sloppy kisses along the side of your head. You whimpered as you came undone beneath his hand, your legs shaking with your orgasm. Castiel held you upright, allowing him access to finish himself.

Panting, you settled against the wall, basking in the coolness of it against your hot skin. Castiel pulled away eventually, leaving you exposed behind. The cool air was welcome, and you continued resting to regain your grounding.

When you had the strength, you reached for a roll of paper towels to clean yourself up. And then pulled your underwear back up, straightening out your clothes.

Turning to face him, you found him looking well put together again, beside his hair. He was trying to tame it, running his hands through it.

He eyed you and informed you, “I’m not losing my temper with him because I know how much you love your job and how important it is to you.”

You took this in, nodding. He was telling you this for a reason. In the past, he would not have hesitated to make a scene without care for consequence.

Coming closer, he cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. “Now that we’ve got that out of our system… we ready to go back out there?”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas @stixnstripesworld

#castiel x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #sam winchester x reader #my shit

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nikkzwrites · 3 years

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(They Long to Be) Close to You | Dark Fix-It Fic Series Part 2 | Chapter 5

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah. This is part two of the series! You can start the full series here!

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: 4.5k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

The forest was quiet as Tronte walked through to get home. This was one of the few days Claudia wasn’t with him, yet he still felt as if a presence was following him. He stopped and looked into the cave with wonder. As he stared he heard a man’s voice behind him, the voice said, “We are attracted to the dark like moths to the light.”

The Unknown stood looking at his son and spoke again, “The dark is what we’re born of, and so we return to it.” He walked closer to him and spoke, “You’ve grown Tronte.”

“Do I know you,” The teenager asked, closed off to the idea.

The Unknown shook his head, “I knew your mother, but that was long ago. You take after her. Your eyes.”

“Who are you,” Tronte demanded.

“I do not have a name,” the man explained, “I was never given one by my original mother. Some call me David though. But back then, it was me who chose what to call you.” His other ages appeared as the man held out a serpent bracelet to the boy, “It belonged to your mother.” He put it into the boy’s hand and said, “I think you should have it now.”

Tronte shook his head and said, “I’ve got to go.” Then walked away from the man.

Hannah and Egon both released a sigh after their activity. They got out of bed and started to get ready for the day. The man smiled at her and said, “I love you.”

Hannah smiled and giggled as a response to him before going back to the mirror to continue putting on her make up.

Egon smiled and bolstered up his courage to walked over to her. He pulled out a small box from his pocket while he spoke, “II don’t know if you’ll like it, but... Can I put it on you?” He slowly put the necklace on the woman and asked, “You don’t like it?”

Hannah looked down nervously and tried to explain, “No, I… I do. It’s gorgeous. I don’t know. I haven’t felt like myself all week.”

“You look pale,” Egon noted. His brain flashed back to another time he remembered seeing someone this pale, but it was years ago now. A small boy was running through the wood for what seemed like his life. Egon had tried to catch him, but the boy seemed to disappear from him before he could help the small boy. He shook his head of it and focused on the woman in front of him once again. “Maybe you should see a doctor,” he asked.

Hannah looked at him and asked, “Will you come back here?”

“I…” Egon stuttered, “I don’t know yet. It’s… It might be best for me to stay home tonight.” When he saw her dejected, he plead, “Katharina. I’m glad you decided to stay here. In Winden.” He caressed her cheek, “You’re beautiful.” He thought for a moment before walking out.

It was September 24th in 1954. Claudia sat with Ines looking at the porn magazine. Jana stood awkwardly towards the side as they laughed about the images. Claudia turned to Ines and asked, “Where did you get this?”

Ines admitted, “It was in my father’s things.” She didn’t want to admit why she was snooping there nor to the end that it had to deal with a boy who was so far away from them now. Across the ocean.

Jana spoke up and told the two, “Ines, Claudia… We’re already late.”

Ines looked up and said, “David and my father said that you don’t learn anything at school. You learn from life.”

“Why don’t they have these with men in them,” Claudia asked. She looked up at Ines and said, “A bit unfair don’t you think?”

Jana shook her head, “You’re crazy.” She was speaking to both of them, but she really didn’t want to call out her best friend about how she regarded that boy who left for America leaving all of them behind.

Ines looked between the two girls and asked, “Have you ever seen one? One that’s not your father’s.”

“Ines,” Jana exclaimed.

Claudia giggled, “Jana. Come on.” She looked towards Ines and nodded after rolling her eyes.

Ines’ eyes widened and she asked, “What did it look like?”

“A bit odd,” Claudia admitted, “Like it wasn’t a part of him.”

Ines smiled and questioned, “Tronte?” When Claudia confirmed with a small nod, the girl spied her best friend looking disappointed. Ines’ smile faded and she said, “I think he’s kind of weird. Has his mother returned?” When Claudia shook her head, Ines continued, “Strange, don’t you think? To just vanish like that.”

At the police station, Doris sat at her husband’s desk. Egon blinked in surprise, “Doris, what are you doing here?” He felt as if he had this conversation before… like he could almost predict what she was going to say next.

“I wanted to talk. And Kahnwald let me in here,” she explained, “Where have you been? I thought you left early to write reports.”

Egon stuttered, “It’s...uh… Well… There’s something that came up.”

“Today, I was washing clothes and I found something.” She walked over to her purse and grabbed a handkerchief, “It was in her blouses. I thought it could be important.” As Egon stared at the cloth in his hand with the initials HT on them, he looked at her picture. Doris continued, “She said her husband was with the church and it may be a coincidence, but the minister who disappeared at the same time… His name is Hanno Tauber.” She slapped down a newspaper article clipping and pointed at it.

There was a picture with Hanno and David staring at him. Seeing the boy, it made his heart ache. He squinted, he felt as though he knew him from somewhere, but from a long time ago, maybe in another life. He heard a very distant voice saying, “Hey dad, Clauds and I are going out to a movie. I’ll walk everyone home. I promise,” and several different, “I love you”s, to suddenly, “I hate you! You’re not my real dad!” Egon shook his head. He finally read the title reading, ‘Winden welcomes its new minister Hanno Tauber (42) from Vechta to take over for Amt von Sigurd Molch (74).’

Egon looked up at her and commented, “I thought her husband was dead.”

Doris shrugged and shook her head, “It’s been three months now. You don’t just leave your child alone without saying a word.”

Egon turned the paper over and looked at Doris, “You should go home. We’ll take care of it.”

Doris stood up and snapped, “Egon, I know something’s going on here! Why would she have left all this behind?!” She shook her head. She felt as if they had this argument before. This all felt like a weird case of deja vu.

Egon sat back and asked, “Who knows what goes on inside a woman’s head?” Seeing his wife huff at him and leave, Egon stood up and called after her, “Doris!” He shook his head and sighed before going back to look at Agnes’ missing poster.

Agnes stared at the swirling blob. The God particle in front of her and Adam. The man turned and spoke to her, “Agnes, you have chosen the correct side. Don’t forget that.” He handed her a newspaper clipping of a sketch of Claudia in the woods and said, “You must give this to Claudia. When it’s time.” When Agnes nodded, Adam spoke to her, “To live is a gift for those who know how to use it.”

Agnes looked at him and asked, “You’ll tell Martha then? What the origin really is?”

Adam turned and stared at the God particle.

Martha shot awake. She gasped for air. Beside her was an older man. She didn’t recognize him until he spoke.

“After all these years I’ve wondered,” Magnus spoke, “why you abandoned us in 1888. Why you gave us the material to create it… and then just disappeared.” He watched as tears streamed down the girl who shared his sister’s face cheeks. “Who would’ve thought 33 years later that it would be us who gave you the order…”

Martha shook her head, “Magnus…I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the man told her. He stood and walked a bit away from her, “Adam is waiting for us.”

Back in the other world, it was November 6, 2052. The older Martha spoke, “This is your future.” She watched as her younger self stared at all the scribbling on the walls, “Thirty-Three years from your yesterday.”

Martha shook her head, “That door in the cave...What was that?”

“It is a path that connects the past and future,” she explained.

The young Martha saw several of her family’s names crossed out. She turned and asked, “Why are these names crossed out?”

“That means they will die,” Older Martha explained, “All of them.”

Martha turned to look to see if she could find any more names. She turned back and asked, “what does ‘all’ mean?”

“In two days,” the older woman explained, “The apocalypse in his world. It also happens in ours.”

“This is not real,” Martha concluded. She panted trying to suppress the anxiety attack growing within her, “You’re not real.”

The older Martha shook her head, “This is your future. If you… If both of you fail to stop the apocalypse.”

“You are new to Winden,” the doctor called Hannah.

The woman nodded, “Three months, yes. I like it here. It’s less complicated than where I come from.” She approached as she finished tying her belt on her dress.

The man spoke, “Well that may be about to change.” He looked up from his microscope and spoke, “You’re pregnant. At your age, a pregnancy is not without its risks. You should take care of yourself. No strenuous activity.”

“That can’t be right.”

The doctor lit his cigarette and took a long drag before speaking again, “Listen, some gifts come into our lives unexpectedly. And yet they are still gifts.”

Egon looked at his family picture and lifted it up. As he caressed the image, the emptiness of someone missing filled him more. He heard himself in his head speaking to someone in a soft voice he often reserved for Claudia saying, “Isn’t she beautiful? That’s your little sister now. You have to protect her and be a good older brother, okay?” He tried to focus on it. His eyes squeezed shut as his mind reached for that elusive memory that just escaped him. He looked back at the picture of only him, Doris, and Claudia. Soon, the door opened.

Greta walked into the officer’s office and sat. She stared at him intently as if waiting for something.

Egon put the picture away and stared back at her for a moment. “How can I help you,” he asked her.

“I would like to know if any news has come in.”

“Sadly,” Egon shook his head, “Sadly no. Unless Helge decides to tell us where he was… That is… who he was with, we’re not going to get anywhere with this.”

Greta shook her head, “This isn’t about Helge.” When Egon looked at the woman confused, she continued, “This is about the missing minister. If no one looks after the church, it leaves the door open for the devil.”

“You knew the man,” Egon questioned, “The minister?” He paused and asked, “Have you ever seen him in company with a woman?”

Greta bared her teeth at him and shook her head in disdain, “How dare you ask that? I want you to find the man. Hanno Tauber.”

The church bell tolled as Doris walked into the church.

A woman sat next to a young boy. Across from them sat a younger girl and an old man. They all turned to her as the middle aged man in the middle of the church turned towards the interrupting woman.

“Are you the new minister,” Doris asked the man trying to ignore the eerie people all sitting together.

“I used to be,” The Unknown spoke, “But that was long ago.”

Doris stuttered and walked towards him, “The thing is, I’m looking for someone. Um… My husband and I are… Our daughter is very talented. Last winter, we sublet the guest room. So we could save up money for Claudia for when she goes to college. The lady who lived with us… Well… she vanished, three months ago. Her husband was a man of God. She said her husband was dead, but, I don’t know why…. I just felt like that wasn’t true. And… the man who worked here vanished at the same time...along with a boy he kept a few months earlier… so… What if he was her husband, and she went back to him?I don’t think she liked him very much.”

The Unknown spoke to her, “Not all human bonds are the result of fondness.”

Doris shook her head, “Well, it’s about the child… I mean… it’s about her boy and… I think a boy needs his mother.”

“Each lie we tell,” the man spoke, “comes at the cost of the human soul.”

“I don’t understand,” she took a step back from him.

“You are not interested in the boy,” the man spoke, “You’re interested in the woman.”

Doris shook her head, “I don’t think you understood what I--”

“The ways of the heart cannot be explained,” The Unknown interrupted her. The rest of his presence surrounded her, “It wants what it wants. Just ask your husband. He’ll tell you the same thing.”

Doris swallowed. She didn’t think she heard the man right. She blinked and asked the man, “My husband?”

“Haven’t you asked yourself why he’s been leaving the house so early,” the man asked, “and working so late? What if there’s another woman there?” The men enclosed on her more, “It’s difficult for us to let go of our deepest desires inside.

Doris swallowed and backed away. She hurried out of the church.

Young Jana walked through the woods alone. She thought to herself how much Ines was changing to become more like Claudia. It annoyed her. She kicked the leaves as she walked. Crows cawed overhead. She turned her head hearing the sound to see Tronte sitting by himself on a log near the lake. She looked around before walking towards him. “Hello Tronte,” she greeted him.

Tronte looked up from the bracelet of the snake in his hands. He sighed deeply as he thought about his options for a second before settling on just greeting the girl as well.

Jana slowly approached and sat next to the boy. She watched as he intently looked at a bracelet in his hands. Curious, she asked, “What’s that? It’s beautiful.”

Tronte looked at her for a moment then put the bracelet in his pocket. He didn’t respond to her.

“Why weren’t you in school today,” Jana asked, changing the subject hoping to get him talking, “What are you doing here?”

“I like it here,” Tronte shrugged, “It’s so… desolate.” When Jana turned her face away from him after that comment, he tried to lighten the mood. “I like to write, you know,” he smiled at the girl, “Stories.”

Jana giggled.

“You have a nice smile,” he commented. He looked out to the lake again.

Back at the police station, Hannah walked into Egon’s office. Egon jumped seeing her. He rushed towards her whispering, “What are you doing here?” He locked the door behind her and in a hushed tone spoke once more, “You can’t just show up here. What if someone sees you?” When she was quiet, Egon paused then asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m pregnant,” Hannah broke the news to him.

Martha stared at the supposed older version of herself.

“You can change it,” the older Martha spoke, “You both can change it. The barrels at the nuclear plant. They start the apocalypse.” Jonas leaned against the far wall listening to everything that was happening as she continued, “You must prevent them from being opened.”

Jonas pushed himself away from the wall and asked, “What do we do then?” He wanted nothing more than to stop this… to save his world and his Annalise… even if it meant he wouldn’t be able to exist, “Eve said there’s a way to undo this knot. There’s a way to let everyone live. To let my love live!”

Older Martha stood and spoke, “She lied to you. There is no way to save both worlds. You must choose one of them. The apocalypse is in two days. It can be stopped here. You both have to stop it. They can live. All of them. Mikkel can live. Isn’t that what you wanted? But you have to let her go. Your Annalise… Your world. You’ve seen what becomes of you there. What you’ll do there. What Adam will do. What you continually do through each cycle.”

The younger Martha stood up hyperventilating. She took a breath and spoke, “Both of you lost it.” She wiped her tears trying to get over her heartbreak about hearing Annalise’s name over and over again while thinking she knew exactly what, who, the other girl was doing. She spat, “I’ll go to the house and wake up in my bed and realize this was all just a shitty dream.” She stopped herself from saying that Annalise would be tangled up with her. She stormed out the bunker.

Jonas blinked and chased her down, “Wait.”

The older Martha spoke to him stopping him for a moment, “Jonas, this is exactly what you wanted originally. You and Martha. In this world, the two of you can work.”

Jonas glared and shook his head before chasing after the girl, “Martha!”

Martha tried to run up the sand dune desperate to get away from all of this. She looked up at him and yelled, “Do you believe all of this? That they’re all doomed?” Martha started to cry, “That’s crazy. I’m crazy… That’s...”

Jonas looked down at her in pity. He felt a kin to her in that moment. His heart ached for the poor girl. He sat down next to her, “Trust me… I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s all true,” she pleaded. She wished, hoped, it wasn’t. She asked again, “All the things she said are real?” She didn’t want it to be true. She wanted Annalise. She needed her with her always. Annalise couldn’t, wouldn’t, betray her like this.

Jonas nodded, “But I know there’s a way. A way to make all of this right again.” He was comforting her, but really, he was trying to comfort the past him. The him that had felt that feeling before. The him that was his own past. He earnestly promised, “And I want to continue looking for that way. I think she does too. The Martha that brought me here.”

The young Martha looked at him desperately believing every word he said.

In the other world, Martha stared as every person started to wish the other one goodbye to start the next part of the cycle. She stared at the particle as Agnes went through to do her duty.

Jonas and Martha walked towards the cave. Jonas led the way with Martha following him.

The older Martha stoob back after putting up the chalk that she correctly did her job. The Unknown… her son was going to be conceived today.

Hannah walked towards a door and spoke to the young girl who answered it. She said, “I...I’m here to see Mrs. Obendorf.”

The girl stood back and allowed her into the waiting room. She looked at the woman and spoke, “You must wait.” She went and sat down herself.

Hannah sat on the other wall of the hallway outside the woman’s office.

“My mother says,” the girl spoke, “they’ll be in hell. The ones… the ones that are gotten rid of.”

“I don’t believe in hell,” Hannah spoke quickly, “Hell’s what we make for ourselves here.”

The girl debated with herself for a second before speaking again, “I’m Helene. Helene Albers.” She held her hand out to the older woman.

Hannah looked upon her. She took her hand knowing exactly who this was now and what, who, was inside this poor girl, “Katharina.” Hannah knew for once, she was going to do a good thing.

“That’s such a nice name,” Helene smiled.

Hannah laughed.

Ms. Obendorf called for the girl inside.

Hannah stood and gave the girl a small gift of money on her coat before leaving, deciding against the horrid idea of getting rid of the baby.

Claudia walked inside the Tiedemann house, “Hello Papa.”

Egon sat at the table drinking his sorrows away.

Claudia blinked, “Where’s Momma?”

Egon sighed, “The ways of the heart cannot be explained. It wants what it wants.”

Claudia looked towards Tronte looking for comfort. The boy looked back at her with a shrug as Egon took another shot.

Tronte took the initiative, “Come on.” He coaxed Claudia to follow him, “Let him be.”

Claudia looked at the boy and saw in her mind's eye, another boy. One older than Tronte… One she hadn’t seen for a year. She could almost hear his voice comforting her. She turned to look at Egon trying to figure everything out before following Tronte up the stairs.

Egon sat with only his thoughts and a drink.

Adam stared at the picture of his son. He sighed as he looked back at the particle.

Martha walked in and said, “You made me a promise. I’ve kept up my end of the deal. Now you have to keep up yours.”

Adam turned and smiled at her, “You want to know where the origin is and how you might destroy it. You will do it.” He turned back to the swirling muck with a sigh. He spoke again and said, “It took me 66 years before I finally understood… how everything is bound together.” He looked at her once again and chuckled, “you’re right. It’s time you understood, too.”

Martha walked into her room with Jonas following behind her. She looked around. Everything reminded her of Annalise. Everything reminded her of just how broken and unloved she was. “At school,” she whispered walking over to him, “At the door you came in… I got this feeling...It was as if we knew each other.” She panted trying not to cry, “From a dream.”

“I’m sorry,” Jonas spoke, “For everything.” He felt his own self tearing up. This room reminded him so much of his own. He knew exactly how she felt. The teenager finally understood how Annalise felt for him. He walked closer to her and studied her. He wanted nothing more than to make her feel loved and like she wasn’t alone… even if it were just because he wished in his world Annalise would continue doing the same for him.

“In your world…” Martha asked, “What was I like?” She wanted to know if she felt just as broken there. If there was any hope for her to not be so desperately in love with someone who would never love her back. “Was I different,” she pleaded.

Jonas carefully wiped her tears away not answering the question. Not really knowing how to answer. As he wiped away her tears, she kissed him. Jonas allowed himself to give in. He allowed himself to think about the love back in his world and how much he missed her. How much he loved her.

The Unknown sat staring at the book he stole. He opened it up and started to finish writing it. He closed it up.

Hannah stood and took the time machine with her as she left.

Martha continued the passion with the boy. She just wanted to feel loved. She wanted to forget about the girl she loved who was screwing her ex who’s mother died causing them to break up. She groaned against Jonas’ affections knowing his mind was elsewhere too, but craving the feeling of feeling cherished. Someone’s one and only thing.

Egon sat at the table drinking away his sorrows. He looked at the table around him and saw the boy from the newspaper laughing and showing Doris something. Doris sitting across from him and Claudia sitting next to him smiling watching as the boy went on and on about some story he was telling.

Doris took out Agnes’ jacket and cried into it. Allowing herself to feel all the emotions.

Jonas refused to look at the girl he was allowing himself to be intimate with. He just wanted to pretend that it was who he wanted under him. He tried to push out of his head that his own was dead and all the while Eve's world her was probably being fucked by a mirror of his best friend. He growled as he tried to just focus on his fantasy.

Tronte sat alone in his room. He raised up his pajama shirt to look at his scars as Claudia snuck into his room.

Claudia undressed in front of the boy.

Jana layed in bed caressing the bracelet Tronte had given her. Thinking about what he must be doing tonight and if he was thinking of her as well.

Bartosz turned over to smile at Annalise. He moved some of the hair from her face gently. He looked at her fully clothed and sleeping peacefully. His heart was so full of love. He wanted to wait until the perfect moment for them to come together as one. Bartosz could feel it in his chest. He would never love anyone quite like he loved the girl asleep safe and sound next to him.

Adam walked into his old home. He looked around while Martha followed him.

“Why are we here,” She asked the man.

“Because here is where everything began,” He spoke as he looked at a picture of Bartosz, Martha, and the younger him on his desk. “In your world.”

Martha walked up to him and sneered, “What are you saying?”

Adam walked to her and pulled out the book. He handed it to her and said, “your older self, she sent you and Jonas back for a single purpose.”

Martha started to cry as she made the realization of what was going on. Her entire inner thoughts. Her inward sins. They created this.

“You were never supposed to stop the apocalypse,” Adam spoke, drilling the point home, “You were to create the seed.”

Martha panted. She glared at him angry.

Adam walked over to her and put her hand over her womb, “This is the origin. What’s going on inside you is the bridge between both worlds.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Martha sneered.

Adam shrugged, “It is the beginning of the knot. And eventually also its end.” He let go of her hand and spoke, “Your son. He is the origin.”

The Unknown walked to the family tree and looked up at the faces of Adam and Eve when he heard a voice behind him call, “David!”

#yesterday once more fanfic #(they long to be) close to you fanfic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark (netflix) fanfic

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unfolded73 · 4 years

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Husbands: Two Years In (5/5) - schitt’s creek ff

Here it is, the final chapter! There's nothing I can say that can get across how touched I've been by the comments on this fic. The number of people who have shared things about their own struggles with mental health -- I'm not worthy of it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

While I'm including this fic as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 4718 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5: Winter

“So how was your week?” Jessica asked.

Patrick always felt like he should plan before therapy what he was going to talk about, but he never remembered to do that.

“It was a little crazy. The holidays at the store always are, although it’s very lucrative. The money we make in December will carry us through at least half of the upcoming year,” he said, pinching the webbing on one hand between his thumb and forefinger of the other.

“And did you feel more equipped to handle that? The busy store, and all your responsibilities around that? Especially with Christmas a few days away?”

Patrick shrugged, feeling obstinate. “I don’t know.”

Jessica let a silence settle, waiting for him to talk. Patrick hated this part; it made him feel like he was failing at therapy when he didn’t know how to fill that silence. What the right answer was. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the sofa cushions, calling her bluff.

Finally, she relented and spoke, and Patrick felt like he’d won a round of whatever game they were playing. “You’ve never said much in here about your sexual orientation other than to talk about your husband and to say that things with your family are good. Was it always that way?”

Patrick tried not to roll his eyes. He knew this would be coming eventually. He’d been avoiding the subject of Rachel or his coming out process because he knew it would be something Jessica would fixate on. “I’m not depressed because of being gay, or… or anything to do with that. I love being gay.”

She smiled genuinely. “I’m glad. But humor me.”

“My parents always accepted me,” he said quickly, but that felt like a lie even though it was technically true.

“How old were you when you came out?” Jessica asked.

Patrick let out a frustrated sigh, seeing no way to avoid the truth now. “I was… I was in denial about being gay for a long time.” Might as well get it all out, he thought. “When I was twenty-nine I broke off an engagement to my high school sweetheart — who was a woman — and moved away from my hometown. Pretty soon after that, I realized I was gay.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, but once I got through it and… and got together with David, I’d never been happier.”

He couldn’t help but see the smile she gave him in response to that as patronizing. “New love can flood the body with so many good chemicals that it swamps out all of the bad ones.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I wasn’t happy?”

“No, I’m saying that the way you’ve framed things in some of our past sessions — that you were depressed before you moved here, and then you weren’t, and now for some reason you’re depressed again… that may not be the right way to frame it. Do you think perhaps it puts a lot of pressure on David as the source of your happiness?”

“I don’t put pressure on David,” Patrick protested.

“Is it possible that you put pressure on yourself, then? When it comes to your relationship with David and its importance in your life?” Jessica asked.

Patrick huffed and didn’t answer. Now she was contradicting herself from one sentence to the next.

“When did you come out to your family?” she asked.

“That isn’t why I’m depressed either,” he said.

Jessica sighed like he was finally challenging her constant state of serene acceptance. “Untangling the web of depression isn’t straightforward. It might be helpful to pull on different threads and see what they’re connected to. Okay?”

Patrick supposed that made sense. “Okay.” Then after another pause, he admitted, “It took me a while to come out to my parents.”

“Why is that?”

He stared at Jessica’s bookshelf for several seconds, his eyes running over the titles without reading them. “I worried that my parents wouldn’t be okay with it. They didn’t talk about gay people when I was a kid, really. Or when they did, they made it sound like a sad thing that we needed to tolerate because it wasn’t a choice. You know, that brand of ‘tolerance’ that is just that and nothing more.”

She shot him a sympathetic look. “It’s understandable why you were hesitant to come out to them.”

“But they were great about it. It wasn’t long after coming out to them that I asked David to marry me, and they were great. They love him, and all my worries were unfounded,” he said, trying to figure out why tears were threatening to spill over.

Jessica took a few seconds to rearrange herself, setting her ever-present portfolio aside and leaning forward on with her elbows on her knees. “I understand that, looked at a certain way, you’ve had a purely positive experience with coming into your sexuality. You had David, who from what you’ve said before is a very loving person. And based on what you’ve told me, you live in an accepting community. And then your parents stepped up and were there for you when you asked them to be. That’s all wonderful, and not to be discounted. But it doesn’t change the fact that for all of your formative years, when maybe on some subconscious level you did know that you were gay, or at least different in some fundamental way, you didn’t feel like your parents or the community you were living in would accept you. That kind of experience leaves a mark, even though everything turned out fine.”

She smirked, leaning backwards again. “Or not. Perhaps your serotonin is low due to simple physiology and I’m completely off the mark.”

Patrick felt strangely reassured by this honesty, this admission that she knew that she didn’t know everything. “So I need medication, then?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Medication might help. Or cognitive behavior therapy could help you. Or both together.”

His reassurance quickly dissolved, leaving Patrick wanting to scream at his therapist, fix me, goddammit! Instead he said, “That all sounds very nebulous.”

She grinned. “From what I know about you so far, I bet that’s driving you crazy, and I’m sorry about that. Can you bear with me for a little while, though? Work through the process?”

He sighed. “I’ll try.”

~*~

Patrick drove past the empty storefront on Elmdale’s main street as he was leaving his therapy appointment. He’d noticed every week that the ‘for lease’ sign was still in the window. After the second time he saw it, he’d texted Ray to ask if that was the space he’d mentioned to David. David hadn’t said anything about the second Rose Apothecary location in a while, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was still thinking about it, and probably wondering when Patrick would be ready to seriously entertain the idea again.

On impulse, he pulled into one of the parking spaces that lined the street and got out of the car, walking over to the empty storefront. The windows were covered in paper, but he could see enough through the gaps to make out that it had a scuffed up hardwood floor. It would need to be refinished, he thought, but it looked like it was in pretty good shape.

The smell of coffee attracted Patrick’s attention, and he looked over to see that there was a coffee shop next door. Grind House, the sign that hung under the awning said. Curious, Patrick went over and opened the door.

The barista looked up and waved. It being around two in the afternoon on a weekday, the place was mostly empty other than two people at a table in the corner who were huddled over laptop computers. The shop was decorated tastefully for Christmas, and he thought David would approve of the warmth and coziness of the space.

“Hey, what can I get you?” the barista — Taylor, her name tag read — asked him with a smile. Tattoos snaked out from under the sleeves of her t-shirt, black ink against dark brown skin.

“A small earl grey tea?” he asked.

“Sure thing. Is that it? We’ve got a few pastries left.”

His eyes strayed over to the pastry case. “Yeah, could I get a couple of those butter tarts to go? My husband is a real connoisseur.”

Taylor grinned at him. “Smart man.”

“Hey, what do you know about the empty space next door? Do you know if there’s been any interest in it?”

“Oh man, I’m still bummed about that. It used to be a comic book shop. I was afraid to go in there for the longest time — comic stores aren’t necessarily the most welcoming places to black queer women, you know? But the old guy that ran it was super nice. I remember he made a point of telling me when Ta-Nahisi Coates started writing Captain America.”

“What happened to the store?”

She shrugged. “Amazon drove him out of business, I guess. That’ll be $9.25,” she said ringing up his tea and butter tarts. As Patrick put his debit card in the reader, she added, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh.” He scratched his cheek. “My husband and I run a store in Schitt’s Creek. Rose Apothecary?”

“Holy shit, really? A friend gave me some of your lotion for my birthday. It’s great.”

Patrick swelled with pride. “Thanks. Anyway, we’re considering opening a second location in Elmdale.”

Taylor smirked, handing him his tea and a box with the tarts. “Sorry, I can’t allow you to have a store right next door to my coffee shop. I’ll spend all my profits there.”

Laughing, Patrick accepted his purchases. “Oh, well. Guess we’ll have to look for another place, then. Although David would return the favor, I’m sure.”

“What’s your name?” Taylor asked.

“It’s Patrick Brewer,” he said, setting the tea down again to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Patrick. I’m Taylor. And I hope you guys get the space.”

“I… do too,” he said, surprised to find that he meant it.

The store was bustling when he got back to Schitt’s Creek, and David and Bethany were both busy with customers. Patrick put the box of butter tarts in the back room and went to work restocking Christmas decorations. Given how many decorations they sold every holiday season, Patrick had to assume that by now every Christmas tree in Elm County was fully outfitted in David Rose’s aesthetic.

As soon as David finished with the customers he was helping, Patrick went over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I got you something for your afternoon break,” he said. “There’s a white box on the table in the back.”

David’s eyes lit up, and he hurried into the back before he could be waylaid by another harried holiday shopper.

They didn’t have a chance to exchange any more conversation until Bethany finally flipped the sign on the door to Closed and locked up. Patrick felt dead on his feet, but he had to admit that the thought of all the money in the cash register made him feel pretty good. Bethany went to work cleaning the windows while David leaned against the center table.

“Oh my god, Patrick, where did you get those butter tarts? Those are the best ones I’ve had in years.”

Patrick walked over and put his arms around his husband, pulling him into a hug. “A little coffee shop in downtown Elmdale that happens to be next to an empty store that I believe Ray mentioned to you a couple of months ago.”

David pulled out of the hug, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied Patrick’s expression. “It’s still vacant?”

Nodding, Patrick leaned up and kissed David’s cheek. “We should call Ray after Christmas and go take a look at it.”

“Are you sure?”

Patrick shrugged. “No, I’m scared as hell. Among other things, I’m afraid I’m going to miss having days like this with you, working together in our store. But I want to go look.”

David kissed his lips gently. “Okay.”

~*~

Stevie stood shivering on their back porch, bundled up in her hat and puffy parka. “It’s way too cold for this,” she said.

Patrick exhaled pot smoke in a crystalline cloud of breath and handled the joint back to her. “Our families are getting here tomorrow and I don’t want the house to smell like weed.” He giggled. “It doesn’t match David’s holiday aesthetic.”

His phone chimed, and he took it out to look at it, expecting a complaint from David. Instead the text was from his cousin. There were no words, just a picture of Justin pressed cheek to cheek with another boy.

Patrick: Who’s this?

Justin 🌈: his name is Jonah

Patrick: Very cute. And closer to your age, I hope?

Justin 🌈: 🙄 you sound like my mom he’s 18

Patrick: Good. Merry Christmas, Justin.

Justin 🌈: thanks you too

Then a text arrived from David, just as Patrick expected. She’s got even more luggage than last year.

Patrick laughed. Maybe it’s a lot of presents for you, he texted back.

David: You give my sister entirely too much credit.

Patrick: See you soon.

“Why are you suddenly so fucking popular?” Stevie groused, her teeth chattering, handing him the joint back as he put away his phone.

“Sounds like Alexis’s flight got in on time,” he said. “And my cousin Justin has a new… boyfriend, I guess?” He took another hit.

“I can’t stand this anymore; I’m going inside,” Stevie said, taking the half-smoked joint from him and carefully extinguishing it, then putting it in a crumpled sandwich bag that she produced from her coat pocket. Patrick followed her back into the house. “Is this the cousin that you rescued a while ago?”

“How many gay cousins do you think I have?” he asked, pulling his coat off.

“I mean, statistically? Given how many cousins you have? More than one.” She flopped down on the sofa and stretched out on her back. “So are you liking your therapist any better?”

Patrick dropped into the overstuffed chair across from her. “I don’t know. As I predicted, she’s starting to fixate on my sexual orientation and…” He gestured airily in a very David way. “All that.”

Stevie turned her head and regarded him balefully. “The fact that you were in denial about being gay until you were thirty? And didn’t come out to your parents until you were ready to ask David to marry you? Is that what ‘all that’ is?”

“Fuck off,” Patrick grumbled.

“I’m just saying, there’s probably some stuff to unpack there.”

“Stevie, I’m completely comfortable with being gay,” he said.

“Didn’t say you weren’t. It’s not about you being gay, but maybe it’s about how you get so wrapped up in your obligations to other people that you lose track of yourself. Or that you’re so obsessed with not disappointing the people you care about that you have a hard time being truthful about who you are or what you need.”

Patrick blinked. “Wow. Maybe you should be my therapist.”

Stevie laughed. “The problem is, I need to be high to have these deep insights.”

They settled into comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally Patrick admitted, “I don’t like the way it makes me feel cracked open.”

“What does?” Stevie asked, her mind clearly having wandered.

“Therapy.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t think I could deal with that either,” Stevie said.

“It’s like… you know how if you pick up a big rock in moist soil, there’ll be all these bugs underneath it?”

“Ew,” Stevie said in a perfect imitation of David, and the two of them burst into gales of laughter for a while. When Stevie finally got control of herself, she said, “Sorry, what about the bugs?”

He wiped away tears from his cheeks. “It was a metaphor for my brain. I’ve got a lifetime of practice not moving those rocks. I don’t know if I want to know what’s underneath them.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She stretched her toes out, brushing them against the arm of the sofa. “You know you’ll be okay though, right?”

Patrick felt a swell of love for Stevie and he would have hugged her, but it would probably be weird. Also he was comfortable in his chair. Maybe he’d hug her later.

When David arrived from retrieving Alexis at the airport, Patrick put his coat back on to help with the luggage. David opened a bottle of wine and turned the lamps in the living room off, leaving only the light from the Christmas tree to illuminate the four of them as they settled in to talk.

They told Alexis about the new location in Elmdale that they were considering leasing, and she made some marketing suggestions that were good enough that David went and retrieved his journal from the bedroom so that he could make some notes.

“One thing I’ve seen businesses do to get market penetration is sponsor relevant conferences,” Alexis said. “Like, professional association meetings. Then they get their business name and logo printed on everything for the conference — tote bags, lanyards, USB sticks, all that stuff.” Her free hand that wasn’t holding her wine glass flopped around to indicate all of the stuff.

“We don’t really have general store conferences,” Patrick said, bemused.

Alexis rolled her eyes. “But it works for other events too. Summer festivals, parades, whatever.”

“Elm Valley has a pumpkin festival every year,” Stevie said.

Patrick was starting to have a germ of an idea related to what Alexis had said. He sipped his wine and filed it away to mull over later, when he was sober.

Tomorrow, Johnny and Moira and his own parents would arrive and things would take a turn for the chaotic, but for right now, Patrick could enjoy the warmth of David’s hand on his shoulder as his husband bantered happily with his sister and his best friend. Leaning into the crook of David’s arm, Patrick smiled and tried to soak up all of the love in the room, an inoculation against the darkness that might lurk around the next bend in the road.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” David murmured against his spine later in their bed. Their kisses had been drowsy and a little bit drunk as they decided that sex was happening tonight in spite of their houseguests. Alexis was in the guest bedroom and Stevie had zonked out on the living room sofa, David tucking an afghan around her shoulders before he and Patrick went to bed themselves.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Patrick said with a chuckle, writhing, pressed against the sheets as David worked him up and up.

“I know it’s not technically Christmas, but tonight was so nice,” David murmured into Patrick’s shoulder, words alternating with kisses. “It filled me with holiday spirit.”

Patrick tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was a losing battle. He made an attempt to smother his giggles into his pillow.

“If you say something about me filling you with the holiday spirit, it’s over between us.” The things he was doing to Patrick with his fingers belied that statement.

Laughing again, Patrick pushed his hips back against David’s hand, and then his laughter turned into a moan, and then neither of them said anything coherent for a long time.

~*~

The first town council meeting of the new year came on a grey January afternoon, the threat of snow on the horizon. Everyone was subdued and low energy, even Roland, and Patrick felt drowsy, struggling a little bit to pay attention and type at the same time that they discussed several budgetary issues. A lot of the topics were the same every meeting, with tiny, incremental changes almost too small to detect. Or worse, they were recurring issues that indicated no progress had been made at all.

When they got to the bottom of the agenda, Ronnie asked if there was any new business, and Patrick almost didn’t say anything. The idea that had occurred to him during the holidays had seemed strong on a happier day. Today, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to argue for it. But then he thought about the things Ronnie had said to him about queer activism, and he thought about Taylor and her coffee shop, and he opened his mouth.

“Have we ever considered having something in Schitt’s Creek for Pride?” he asked.

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “What, like a parade?”

“No offense, but it might be kind of a sad little parade,” Roland said.

“No, not a parade. Like, a street festival. Tents with food and other vendors and LGBT educational booths. Opportunities for people to find out about meetings in the area. Maybe a stage with speeches and musical performances. And we don’t have to limit it to only Schitt’s Creek. I looked into it a little, and even Elmdale doesn’t have anything like it. We could draw vendors and patrons from all over Elm County.”

Ronnie crossed her arms. “Sounds like a way to line your own pockets. I assume Rose Apothecary would be one of the vendors?”

Patrick met her gaze. “I’m sure the rest of council could be counted on to keep us on a level playing field with everyone else. Come on, Ronnie. Can you honestly say it wouldn’t be a good thing for the community? And a good way to bring money into the town?”

She tilted her head in acquiescence. “Put together a formal proposal and we can vote on it at the next meeting.”

“I’m going to vote ‘yes,’” Bob stage-whispered to Patrick.

“Thanks, Bob.”

After the meeting had adjourned, Patrick went over to Ronnie. “I thought later this month I’d go to that Thornbridge LGBTQIA+ meeting you told me about. See what they’re doing and make some connections. Ask if they’d be interested in helping out with our Pride festival.”

Ronnie stared at him for a second. “Your festival idea hasn’t been approved yet,” she said.

“Assuming it’s approved,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning. “Would you like to go with me?”

“You want me to spend hours in a car with you, driving to Thornbridge. Really.”

“Come on, Ronnie. Someday you and I are going to have to bury the hatchet for good.” He put on his most guileless expression, the one that caused David to accuse him of weaponizing his eyes. “Why not in service to the queer community, of which we are both pillars?”

She almost, for a split second, looked like she was going to crack a smile. Instead she sighed. “Fine. Let me know when it is. I’ll see if I’m available.”

~*~

They celebrated signing the lease for the new store with pizza at David’s favorite spot in Elmdale. There were paper hearts colored by children in the front window, and it reminded Patrick that he only had a few days to find a suitably tacky gift for David for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t get David to threaten to divorce him on this, David’s most hated of holidays.

While they waited for their pizza, Patrick reached across the red and white checkered tablecloth and took David’s hand. “Thank you,” he said.

David had been fiddling with his phone, but at the sound of Patrick’s voice, he set it face-down on the table and gave Patrick his full attention. “What for?”

“For being there for me so many times this past year. For… for putting up with me at my worst.”

A crooked smile threatened to erupt on David’s face. “Patrick, you know your worst is still pretty good, right?”

“I hope you’re not still grading me on a Sebastien Raine curve, David.”

David rolled his eyes at that. “No, I’m just saying that maybe you don’t have the most objective perspective on what being married to you is like.” His eyes softened. “I’m as happy being your husband today as I was the first day. Okay?”

Patrick swallowed around a surprising lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“You’re nervous about the new store,” David surmised.

“I am, but it’s the right decision,” Patrick said with confidence.

“I’m nervous too,” David said. “Don’t mistake my outward confidence for anything other than a thin veneer over all of my anxieties.”

That statement automatically put Patrick into reassurance mode. “The marketing ideas from Alexis are going to be helpful. The customer base in Elmdale is huge and has more disposable income compared to what we’re used to at home. I’ve run some numbers, and I think the revenue from this location may outstrip our Schitt’s Creek location in a matter of months.”

David grimaced. “Well, that somehow makes me feel irrationally protective of our first store. It doesn’t deserve to be the under-achiever.”

Squeezing David’s hand, Patrick said, “Never. I fell in love with you there, and there’s nowhere in the world more important to me than that store.”

“We can make new memories at the new store,” David said softly.

Patrick knew, realistically, that he and David probably wouldn’t be spending that much time together at the new store after they got it open. They’d have to split time between the two locations, and there would be even more work to do out on the road, expanding their vendor base to support the increased demand.

David seemed to read his thoughts. “And when we spend our days apart, it will make being at home together in the evenings that much more precious.”

“Yeah,” Patrick managed to say, his voice raw. He averted his eyes from David’s piercing gaze, staring out the window between the gaps in the paper hearts. “Can you… can you talk to me more about that?”

David smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Well, imagine a day when I’m at the store here in Elmdale, and you’re at the store back at home.”

“Are you at the one in Elmdale because of Taylor’s pastries?”

“Shhh,” David said, reaching out with a finger like he was going to put it over Patrick’s lips. “I leave the store a little early, letting one of our trusted employees close up, and I bring home some wine and cheese from the store. Maybe some of Heather’s new triple cream.” He closed his eyes like he was having an erotic fantasy about Heather Warner’s cheese.

“Wine and cheese that you pay for,” Patrick said.

“Naturally. Oh, and fresh berries. It’s summer, and there are berries in season. So I set everything up on the kitchen table, just in time for you to arrive home from the other store. And we drink wine and eat cheese and we tell each other all about our days. The sun is setting, and the light is all golden,” David said.

“I like this story,” Patrick replied. “Then what happens?”

“Eventually we move to the sofa. Maybe watch some TV or listen to some music. We put our feet up and finish our wine and you remember something funny that you saw on the internet and you tell me about it. And then when we get tired, we go to bed.”

“What happens then?” Patrick asked as their server set their pizza in front of them and David grabbed a slice.

David’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile and he waggled his eyebrows. “The rest of the story is very interesting, but you’ll have to wait to get home to hear that part.”

“Hmm, okay.” Patrick reached for his own slice of pizza.

“Hey,” David said, drawing Patrick back to looking at him. “I love you. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings for us.”

Patrick smiled. He felt bolstered, lifted up by David’s support and for once, he allowed himself to feel good about it. “Me either, David.”

#david x patrick #schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

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POSITIVE 20 QUESTIONS TAG GAME

I was tagged by @peanutbutterandgrapejelly. Thank you for the tag, Peanut, this seems pretty loaded, but in a good way, so here goes!!

1. Name 4 fictional characters who showcase your personality the best, with explanations if you want.

Sue Heck! I don't think I let all of it out, but on the inside, I constantly feel like I'm extremely Sue Heck-y, :')

Amy Santiago, in a lot of regards, I'll say. Uh, cares a lot about her friends, ambitious, and would basically die/murder for organization, but also socially awkward and, uh, mostly percepted as a goody-two-shoes. Also, true nerd™.

Mindy Lahiri! (I mean, again, this seems more of a who I feel like I am, and not who I come across as, cause those two things tend to differ on a variety of levels?)

Sam Winchester (you know I had to) Basically, we're both INFJs. I'm not even close to his level, but my brain officially ran out of characters so uh, empathetic, constantly interpreted as "boring" and the "brains", patient, *yearns to settle down with someone they love*, believes in second chances. The whole nine, but toned down XD

2. Aesthetic:

I'd usually have a hard time with this one, but I recently did a long thing about my aesthetic, so! I'm going to say, soft pastel, beige, and shades of white!! A tinge of light academia, but mostly unassumingly modern, and faded rainbows as watermarks.

3. Favorite musical/play? If you've never seen a musical or play, one you'd be interested in seeing?

You got me ~ never seen any. (I mean, school plays don't count, right?) I honestly have a bunch of musicals I want to see, recommendations from friends online, but somehow it always slips my mind. But, off the top of my head, @spot-the-brooklyn-pirate wanted me to check this one out, and I am looking forward to actually doing it sometime: Book of Mormon.

4. What's the best compliment you've ever received?

Mostly, anyone who says I, in any way, made them happy, literally gives me the best compliment ever. And uh, my sister called me inspiring once, and it stuck. When I nagged her into elaborating, she said she thought I was functional in spite of all my flailings, and self-analytic, and it didn't make sense to me, but I still think about that.

And a few people, over the course of time, have named some of my fics as their favorites, and those stay with me for a very long time.

5. How many times have you been in love?

Hardly once. She's still one of the most important people in the world to me, but as somebody great once said, if you don't fight for it, it doesn't count. And we didn't.

6. Embarrassing story or fact about yourself which now makes you laugh?

By far the most embarrassing thing I've ever done, is written a fic on wattpad which revolved around my own life, except for the fact that it really, really didn't. Long story shortened, I was in sixth grade, and had a surface-level-y crush on this guy, and it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. In the story, we're all in senior year, though the authoress forgot pretty much all the real things about school XD it's not just cringy, but also extremely sixth-grade-y written, and it astounds me to this day that it went on to have like 18,000 views? (I managed to block the entire shtick out, until a few months back, when I randomly remembered and rushed to unpublish the work. *facepalm* it even had all our real names)

7. Favorite Disney/Pixar movie?

This one's so hard. Uh. Ratatouille, maybe?

8. Favorite flower/plant?

I regret having to confess that I probably don't have one :( but hey, my go-to answer for these ones is daisies, because they remind me of the lovely @daisy-jeon <3

9. What's your favorite holiday?

Holi :')

(I miss it being like the older times, though? Somehow it always clashes with my final exams these last few years, and Shelley is often not home, but it still really makes me happy, so just imagine how perfect it used to be, when I was a kid!!)

10. Name three things that made you smile/laugh this past week.

Rewatching The French Mistake!! A really great decision, haha!

The lovely comments an older fic of mine received, (about old Destiel, uwu) since a couple of big blogs happened to reblog it 🙈🙈🙈 and my activity started blowing up!!

A full-blown coffee high, which resulted in me being hilarious through a 98-message monologue to dish, eeeeee!!

11. What song would you play to introduce yourself to someone?

I'd been dreading this question the most, because I'm horrible at remembering good songs when I - need to be. Oofsies.

But I guess I could wing it with 'What About Us' by P!nk.

12. Name something that truly makes you peaceful even at your most stressful moments.

Writing about Character A of a ship going through said stressful moment, and Character B being the best possible responder to all of it. Projection's the key to functionality, kids.

13. What do you, did you, or would you study at college?

Would you, and will you, sound unfortunately like different questions to me, so I'm going to answer the one which is asked. I'd like to major in History, with a minor in English. (And to be crude for a bit, as my sister calls it, thus successfully be left solely employable as a teacher.)

14. This is kind of a weird one, but which outfit of yours makes you feel most like yourself?

My black Avenger's logo t-shirt, with this pink hooded, kinda-down-past-my-hips, not-warm-at-all jacket and any one of my numerous, mwuahaha, grey shorts.

I never said I'd go out of the house in that outfit, did I?

15. What is a quote you live by?

I don't think there aren't any. I'm just here, faking it till I make it. Still, if I had to choose? Misha's "Be Kind to Yourself so You can be Happy enough to Be Kind to Others" is something I aspire to live by.

16. Name the funniest playlist name you have.

I'm sad that I don't have any funnily named ones now. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm hoping that it counts a teensy bit that I have like seven playlists just for background shtuff when I'm working, and they're all named *extremely* similarly, with variations of the word "study" basically, but all have exceptionally different vibes.

But I really am sorry, and I'm going to try and up my playlist-humor-game.

17. Make a reference to an inside joke you have with someone you love with zero context.

'Time for tapwater'.

18. What is a message you'd give your younger self if given a chance?

Don't build your sense of self-worth over the people whose opinions you think matter. You don't have to get everybody to like you. (Oh, and probably don't switch between multiple first-person-pov's, even though you're just writing the most unrealistic self-indulgent fiction EVER.)

19. Who is your favorite family member? (If you have no good blood family members, feel free to mention someone in your found family)

Hands down, my sister. Shelley, didi, @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect, you're like the best part of my life, and you're probably going to be the longest part of it, too. Cause we might not have the best record for funny titles to call each other by, but we still nail the cheesy till the end of the line moments, ;)

20. What's a secret dream of yours?

I, uh. Want to run a completely-revolutionalizing-the-concept-of-education-style school ~ a boarding school actually, with my best friend dish. And as a means to acquire funds for it? We're going to do a whole lotta stand-up. :D

(Oh, and since i've already rambled for at least a thousand words, so what's the harm in a few more? At some point, probably on my birthday, I want to do a YouTube livestream, a pre-planned one of course, and everybody I've ever been frens with, on this dumb, wholesome hellsite???? They're all sent an invitation to join!! And there's nothing to do, really, we just talk and everyone's enjoying themselves, and I dunno, I had a dream about this once, and I've been so ridiculously smitten with the idea since!

Huh, maybe I could rally forces starting now, to make this possible by my eighteenth!!)

If anyone would like to play, these are really awesome questions! @3dg310rdsupreme @mystybloo @thotfordean @bcozwhythefuknot @theninthdutchessofhell @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @quicksilver-ships @all-or-nothing-baby @screamatthescreen @telefunkies @elvenlicht @facepalmmylifeu @specialagentrin @noemithenephilim @but-for-the-gods-three-days

#l o n g #long post #about me #i finally did it #stuff about me

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coldgoldlazarus · 4 years

Text

Fic Writer Meme

Got tagged by @thoscheian, so let’s give this a whirl!

Fandoms: Oh my goodness, way too many. I guess Bionicle and My Little Pony are my biggest ones overall, even if I haven’t really touched the latter too much in the past four years. But yeah, I tend to ping-pong randomly between interests every month or two these days, so there’d be no point in trying to list them all out...

Number Of Fics: Hoo boy, gimme a moment. I have 19 on Fanfiction.net, (Not counting a crosspost from FIMFiction) 18 on FIMfiction, 7 on Sufficient Velocity, and 5 on Ao3 (Not counting crossposts from Fanfiction.net and SV)

So overall, I have 49 across all of the above sites. It’s worth noting that aside from oneshots, none of them are complete -_-;

Fic I Spent The Most Time On: Probably Of Responsibility from my FIMfiction days, or Waves Of Change from the past few years.

Fic I Spent The Least Time On: A Chance, I think; if memory serves, I wrote it up and spit it out all in one sleep-deprived night, and it shows. :/

Longest Fic: Waves Of Change, (The Sufficient Velocity one, the Ao3 mirror isn’t up to date) at 37.9k words

Shortest Fic: The Dark World at only 340 words. For now.

Most Hits: I have no way to really measure that across all the different sites, but Of Responsibility has 12,327 views.

Most Kudos/Likes: Of Responsibility again, at 345 likes (though 9 dislikes)

Most Comments: Does Waves Of Change count? What with it being on a forum that makes that sort of thing easier in the first place... Still, 218 replies to that.

Most Bookmarks: Just gonna skip this one.

Total Word Count: Aw fuck. Okay, let’s see...

Early Awkwardness 1.7k for Random Stupidity (Nov 2, 2009) 0.5k for Lonely (Nov 30, 2009) 0.9k for Love Lives Beyond The Tomb (Jan 12, 2010) 0.5k for Variable (Oct 27, 2010) 0.9k for The Tale Of The Va (Dec 21, 2010) 2.2k for The Bird Of Flame And The Sprite Of Spring (Jan 9, 2011) 0.9k for Bitter (Jan 21, 2011) 0.9k for Alive (Feb 9, 2012) 7.3k for Destiny Is Magic (Apr 20, 2012)

The Pony (with other stuff on the side) Era 26.1k for Of Responsibility (Jun 14, 2012) 1.1k for The Test (Aug 28, 2012) 2.2k for Girl At The Chalkboard (Sep 23, 2012) 9.8k for The Atlantis Scenario (Oct 24, 2012) 2.2k for Keep On Trying (Dec 1, 2012) 6.3k for Coldy’s Cutting Room Floor (Jan 5, 2013) 1.9k for Clover’s Disappearance (May 10, 2013) 2.2k for Room Three-Fourteen (Dec 5th, 2013) 2.4k for Maniacal (Dec 22, 2013) 1.1k for Identity And Illusion (Jun 18, 2014) 4.8k for The Curse And The Blessing (Aug 1, 2014) 23.0k for Through The Darkened Mirror (Aug 20, 2014) 3.5k for This Is Not Over (Aug 29, 2014) 10.8k for Temptation Waits (Oct 1, 2014) 1.3k for A Chance (Oct 2, 2014) 18.1k for Iridium: Resurgence (Apr 19, 2015) 7.6k for Return To Helgen (May 10, 2015) 3.2k for A Few Days Prior (Jun 14, 2015) 1.2k for OMEGA TREE HUGGER: REVENGEANCE OF NATURE’S WRATH (Jun 21, 2015) 2.9k for Conductivity (Nov 13, 2015) 1.4k for The Partnership Permutation Initiative (Feb 24, 2016) 1.7k for Unstrung (Mar 1, 2016) 2.6k for Three’s A Company (Mar 29, 2016) 1.6k for Fluttering, Shimmering (Aug 1, 2016) 3.1k for The Shore Of Infinity (Aug 2, 2016) 3.0k for Harbingers (Aug 5, 2016) 4.2k for Lunch Break (Aug 6, 2016) 3.5k for Sirens In The Distance (Aug 10, 2016)

The Modern Stuff 37.9k for Waves Of Change (Nov 10, 2016) 1.1k for Nothing Left To Chance (Nov 29, 2017) 0.3k for The Dark World (Dec 2, 2017) 1.7k for Daughters Of The Sea (Dec 11, 2017) 11.9k for Ninety-Eight Days Preceding Collapse (Feb 4, 2018) 3.2k for CGL’s Touhou Oneshot Collection (Mar 22, 2018) 2.9k for The Cruel Lies Of Sphinxes And Spiders (May 22, 2019) 2.0k for The Secretary Remains (Jul 16, 2019) 3.3k for Metroid: Equilibrium (Aug 3, 2019) 4.0k for Thunder On The Horizon (Nov 15, 2019) 4.0k for CGL’s Lilanette Week 2020 (Jan 5, 2020) 2.4k for Time Waits For Nobody (Mar 18, 2020)

So in total, that’s 243.3k words.

Favorite Fic I Wrote: I’m going to give three answers to this. From the pre-Pony era, I would have to say Alive. It’s a short and very rough one, but it’s still one I can come back to every so often and actually enjoy, instead of wincing at my past self. From during the Pony era, I’d say Lunch Break. It’s also got some weak spots, but I think that was some of the most interesting and personality-filled prose I’ve ever written, and it’s just focused on some fun interactions between some underappreciated characters. And for my recent stuff from the post-Pony era... well, to be honest most of them are multi-chapter works that don’t look that good in their current state, but Ninety-Eight Days Preceding Collapse is the furthest along by my estimation, so I’ll go with that.

Fic You Want To Rewrite/Expand On: Hmm. There are a fair few in this list I’d like to revisit and continue with in some way, but sadly for a lot of them, the motivation and drive just... isn’t there anymore. However, Iridium: Resurgence is one I feel like I could come back to properly if I just had more time; the prose (and the title) would certainly need improvement, but I’m still invested in the concepts I had for it.

Share A Bit Of A WIP Or A Story Idea You’re Planning On: I have something of a half-sequel, half-epilogue to Waves Of Change in mind for whenever I finish that, that would deal with a bunch of plot threads that there was no good way to wrap up in the main story’s outline.

Fubuki gently brushed Murakumo's hair, taking care with the knots and curls, doing her best not to pull too much as she teased the wayward strands into alignment. Rain pattered on the window and roof, echoing throughout the otherwise-silent room. It was relaxing and touching to see, yet Atoll Princess couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy as she watched unnoticed from the doorway.

And uh, here’s some tags @shipsallshipshoweverimprobable @patricia-von-arundel @aresmarked @lemonjamdraws @angelofthequeers @slightlyobssesive @veteranmortal @empressofthelibrary

#not a reblog #writing reference #fanfiction

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maggyme13 · 5 years

Text

The Last Mission (9/?)

AN: Please dont hate me after this! But this is a dark fic and i wanted to try somehing new.

There are German part in here at the end. the english translation is written right after them like this

Wordcount: around 1500

Warning: grafic description of birth, miscarriage

Masterlist

TLM- Masterlist

Part 8

Next time you woke up, you where laid on the bed, your head resting on a soft pillow. Something cold was pressed against your exposed chest and your instinctivelyd jerked away. It was a different cold than the soldier´s metal prosthetic.

An unknown male voice told you something in a stern voice you couldn´t underdstand.

“He tells you to lay back again so he can finish his check up.”, the soldier rumbled from your left. He stood a few steps away, his eyes fixed on the male stranger and muscles tense. You noticed his flesh hand was resting on the hidden blade, ready to pull it at any moment and kill the man, should he do something stupid.

Knowing the soldier would not allow anything happen to you, you did as the stranger had asked from you.

It took another few minutes for the doctor(?) to finish his check up. He then said somehting to your captor again, who nodded and handed over some money, before guiding the man out of your little appartment.

Waiting for him to say or do anything to you, you did not move from your position on the bed.

“You fainted.”, he finally told you, “I had to find a doctor after you did not wake up on your own after a while. He said to be carefull in your condition and to take it easy. He will check on you again in a few weeks to make everything is fine.”

“Okay.”, you nodded, pulling the sheets around your body to keep warm.

“Your clothes are on your left. get dressed and then sit down to eat.”

Nodding again, you pulled the offered shirt above your head and then sat down at the table- soup was served.

“What you and Barnes did was a stupid thing to do. You did not know where you were and then you left into the blue.”, his voice was angry, but stayed calm and even.

“I am sorry.”, you flinched.

“Good. Don´t do something like this again!”, he ordered staring you down to get his point across, “We will stay here. No one knows who we are and in your condition it is smarter. But you will NOT leave this appartment.”

It was hard for you to walk around and do your chores now..

You feet hurt, as did your back and head often times.

It was your seventh or eightth month of pregnancy and trusting the doctor, neverything was going fine.

Bucky had left you to buy some food on the little marked a few blocks away- you had suddenly started to crave plumbs- and you were trying to clean your appartment as best as you could.

You had wanted to mob it for a while now, but both Bucky and the soldier were stating it was to dangerouse. Unbeknownst to you, would they be right.

Hurried steps caught your attention and to stepped away from the door and into the far corner of the room.

Not a second later, did the door open and Captain America entered.

Fury rose in your blood.

He hadn´t notice you yet, and he wouldn´t, because a the moment his eyes would have caught your form, Bucky entered catching the man´s whole attention on himself.

Bucky´s eyes flickered to you to make sure you were alright while at the same time telling you to hide. He didn´t know who can be truste (which included himself), and unlike the soldier, who whould often touch your stomach to dfeel the child move, HE barely did- always afraid to hurt the unborn baby.

The two men started to talk , though you did not really listen; a movement outdside the covered window caught your attention and not a second later, all hell broke loose.

Explosions and smoke filled the room, blinding you for a while and making it hard to breath.

YOu wanted to get away from there, hide and wait until everything is over. But you would not be able to.

You had made it to the flat-door when she burts open again, hitting you. That caused you to loose your footing, when your foot caught the bucket with water.

“POLICE!”, someone shouted, though the only thing you registered was a sharp pain in your abdomen when you fell onto the edge of the kitchen table; the corner embedding itself into your stomach.

Fuck

At once you curled yourself into a small ball, uncontrolably sobbing. It hurt too much and you hoped your baby was alright.

A presence appeared next to you and you could hear a slightly panicked voice of a man. Hands roamed your body on the search for secret weapons (as you later learned).

“Atlas 100 von 5-3. Wir haben eine weibliche Unbekannte. Schwanger.”, he spoke. ((”Atlas 100 for 5-3. We have an unknown female. Pregnant.”)) ”Verstanden. Negativ. ZP ist ins Treppenhaus geflüchtet. Mit dem Captain.((Understood.Negative. Target left into the stairwell with the captain.”)) Miss. Miss. German federal police. Can you understand me?”

The man tried to uncurl you, but you didn´t. Too great was your panic and pain.

“Frank hilf mir. Wir müssen sie beruhigen und auf das Bett legen und gucken obn und wo sie verletzt ist.((Frank help me. we need to calm her down and get her onto the bed so see if and where she is injured.))”, the man told another man.

“Klar. Gib mir Deckung, ich mach das. ((Sure. Cover me, I do that.))”, a new voice stated and not a few moments later you were lifted into the air, only to be placed onto the bed.

Another shout of pain left your throat upon that movement.

“I am sorry Ma´m. But- Scheiße. Atlas 100 von 5-5: wir brauchen dringend einen Arzt zu unserer Position. DIe Unbekannte hat Blut zwischen den Beinen und es wird immer mehr--positiv--negativ. Aber- verstaden. 5-5 ende. ((Fuck. Atlas 100 for 5-5. We need a medic to our position immediatelly. The unknown has blood between her legs and it gets more and more-- positiv--negativ. But- understood. 5-5 out.)). “

”Miss. I need you to lay on your back and open your legs. I need to see where all the blood is coming from.”, the first voice asked you through your sobbs.

Blood? What Blood? God no!

Shocked hearing those words, you did as the man pleaded and slowly uncurled your body. It was then that the cramps started.

“Shit.”, the second man cursed and you screamed in pain when another hit you and you felt your babies position shift down.

You had just starting to give birth.

“5-3 an alle: Weiß jemand wie man ein Kind zur Welt bringt?-Ja ich bin mir sehr sicher. Verstanden. ZP1 hat das Gebäude verlassen. Gebäude wird gesichert. ((”5-3 for everyone. Does anyone know how to give birth to a baby?- Yes I am very sure. Copy. Target 1 had left the building. Building is being secured.”)) “

You had finally found the courage to open your eyes,only to find two men dressed in black combat uniforms standing and sitting in front of you. THe one standing held his weapon in a way that made it possible for him to either shoot you or anyone coming throughh that door at a moments notice. The other one was tall and broad, his weapon laying next to him, but out of your reach. Both men had a worried glint in their eyes.

“Please.”, you sobbed not really knowing what to say or do.

The police-officers shared a look before the taller one spoke again.

“Miss. I need to strip your trousers and underwear. There is a lot of blood and we think you might have gone into labour.”

You could only nod, because another very painful cramp hit.

“Cut them off. I don´t care.”, you whined, the urge to spread your legs to ease the pain taking over. Hot shivers covered your body and sobbs left your chest. It was far too early for your little boy to see the world.

The standing man had turned his back more towards you, giving you a bit more privacy, while his comrade got rid of your clothing; only to place the covers of your bed over your legs.

You felt your inner walls stretch and your baby enter your birhting canal- but something felt wrong. Now the pain would not stop and it overtook everything.

____ ATTENTION TRIGGERING MATERIAL BENEATH THIS ____

You could not breath propperly and when you finally felt your child leave your body after a very long and painful time- nothing happened.

It was quiet. No cry or whailing of a newborn and you new your baby boy was dead. Even without having to see the looks on the faces of the men.

It was then that three more police officers (dressed like the two with you) entered with medics at their sides. At once the medics took over the situatuion, asking questions and doing their job.

You did not react. or answer. Your eyes cast on your stillborn child that was being looked over by another pair of newly arrived medics.

Everything that happened afterwards, your mind did not register. It was once big blurr.

Part 10

AN 2.0: Sorry not sorry... So who caught my little GSG 9 easter egg? Any German readers who loved that series as much as I did?

So what do you think and do you hate me now?

Nothing is more discouraging than no feedback at all and maybe you get a quicker update … OR IS MY WRITING THAT BAD; THAT YOU HAVE TO SAVE OTHERS FROM READING IT??????

Thank you all for reading and until next time ;)

~MaggY

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc@pacifyhxlsey

@thankyoukarenclifford

@thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff

@scarletraine

@ambrosialyn

@markusstraya

@graveyard-groupie

@buckycaptspideypool

@markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

MCU:

@yknott81 @banner-and-bucky-are-life @forext20 @dyanlzbb @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4 @caplansteverogers @bitchwhytho @ladyofmyst @jilldsumner @momc95 @appreciating-fanfics

Last Mission:

@eyesfixedonthesun22 @sherrybaby14 @lazilysuperbbucky @lizblinder @queen-aerie @demonlover87 @simplyhemmings @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @lulasdaughter @lilly-evans-and-the-kpop @past-perfect-future-tense

Want to get tagged (or if you are shy and want to leave me a comment that only I can read) please send an ask :P

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #dark #miscarriage #losing a child #reader #fiction

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goodnightkisseu · 5 years

Text

Time To Heal - Chapter 3

→ pairing: sehun x reader

→ genre: fluff, angst, struggling musician sehun x rich reader

→ word count: 3,554

→ warnings: none

→ summary: you had your life planned out for you ever since you were a little girl. However, when your friend, Baekhyun, takes you with him to his old hangout, you meet someone, someone you were willing to risk your parents’ criticism to be with. His name was Oh Sehun. But, in the end, what you really should have asked yourself, was if Sehun was ready to face your parents…

→ masterlist // exo masterlist // time to heal masterlist

→ [prologue] [ch.1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5] [ch.6] [ch.7]

→ updates taglist~: @chanyeolol @meryljill-111192 @sehunscutiepie @hi-cupid

note: this week’s chapter takes a small break from the last chapter’s drama. we get to see how the pair met! I don’t have much to say in terms of notes this week, but thank you so much for supporting this fic. it means a lot!

Also, please let me know if you would like to be tagged in this story~

- ash <3

The heavy bass boomed from the speakers, pulsating through your body as Baekhyun led you through the busy dance floor. The throngs of people made navigating the venue difficult, and there were a couple of times that you were almost separated from your friend. But, Baekhyun made sure to hold on tightly to you, just so that you wouldn't get lost in the sea of people. The club was small and packed at this hour. The price to get in was low, far cheaper than any place you had been to, and the atmosphere wasn't bad at all. You understood why people wanted to be here. There was just something about it that was different from the high establishment clubs that you would typically frequent with friends. This was more low-key, more intimate. Maybe Baekhyun was right after all. You needed a change of pace.

You were in your final quarter before graduation, and truthfully, it was more stressful than expected. Though you had tried to offset your remaining project classes with simpler ones, you still ended up with a lot of work. Your project classes required endless hours of research and design, while your general courses required a lot of textbook reading. Once you added your internship into the mix that you worked at once a week, you found that you had a hard time balancing it all. You were stressed and overworked, and honestly, Baekhyun hated seeing you like this. So, one night, he showed up at your room and insisted that you take the night off, suggesting that you go with him to meet up with his childhood friends. He posited that getting away from your work and your usual circle of friends would allow you to truly relax. At first, you had declined. You felt like there was a lot of work to be done, and you couldn't just take the evening off to blow off some steam. You had lists upon lists of things that needed to be completed. Nowhere on that list was drinking into the early morning. Still, to say that you weren't curious of Baekhyun's previous life was incorrect. Unlike you, Baekhyun had grown up quite differently. His family wasn't from the elite circles. They had actually come into money due to an angel investor. Someone who had taken great interest in his father's small startup, and with that starting capital, the company was able to pick itself up. They produced the product that his father had patented, and the returns soared. Within a year, Baekhyun's family went from a small town to high society. The change was shocking for all of them, and it took some getting used to. You could tell that there were things Baekhyun still struggle with now, though his outgoing personality usually covered that all up. You and Baekhyun had become close during your time in school. Your parents had initially tried to set the two of you up on a date. But when you all realized that Baekhyun was more of a friend to you than a future spouse, your parents stopped pushing it. Still, in your friendship becoming deeper, you came to realize that, no matter how much Baekhyun hung out with your crowd, no matter how he tried to talk like the rich kids did, deep down, he was still that boy from a small town. He kept his two groups of friends very separate, but the fact that he was inviting you to meet the people he grew up with, you knew that it was a difficult thing to do. He was letting you in, and you couldn't brush that off. So in the end, you agreed to go. You slid all of your coursework back into your backpack and headed out with your friend to have a good time. Momentarily, Baekhyun stopped on his quest across the dance floor, though he held onto you tightly so that some unsuspecting male wouldn't pull you away. He took the chance to look around, eyes scanning the surrounding area, looking for a particular set of people. Your eyes followed his, and for the first time, you noticed the tables and booths that lined the back walls and perimeter of the club. Each one was filled with groups of people. Some patrons were drinking together, while others doing more than that, all in the name of a good time. Your eyes were so fixated on the upper level that you almost didn't feel Baekhyun pulling you closer to whisper in your ear. "I found them! They're on the far side of the club, at the second table from the end. It's their usual spot. Let's go!" he told you, leading you the rest of the way off the dance floor. You meandered through the loitering patrons off the dance floor, Baekhyun being a fantastic guide. You could only imagine that he had done this countless times in the past, but you didn't dare ask. As you moved further from the dance floor, the music grew more muted. It still rang through your every fiber, of course, but back here, at least you could hear those around you speaking. With Baekhyun leading the way, you were able to take in what was going around you. It was just other groups of people, making the most of their Friday night. When your friend slowed down, your eyes moved forward to see what was ahead. You only saw a handful of tables remaining at this point, but the one thing that caught your eye was an individual that stood as soon as he saw Baekhyun. He waved frantically in your direction as the pair of you approached, only stopping when the two of you were close. "Dude, what took you so long? We've been here for nearly half an hour. We started without you since it felt like you were a no-show for the evening," the male complained. The first thing that you noticed about this particular friend was his height. The booth sat on a slightly raised platform, but it was evident that he was tall by nature. He had lovely eyes, and his voice was something that you could see girls falling for. Just as you were giving him a once over, he became aware of your presence, leaning to look around Baekhyun and get a better look at you. "This a new girlfriend of yours?" he questioned, brow slightly furrowed. "I thought you were seeing a different girl. Did you change your mind already?" Baekhyun didn't have to turn around to know that you were intrigued by his friend's comment. He was always very open with you about the people he was seeing, but he hadn't quite mentioned his significant other yet. This wasn't quite the place to talk about her, however. Instead, Baekhyun just shook his head, ignoring his friend's earlier inquiry. "Naw, she's a friend from my classes. She's the one I told you about. My actual friend. She was going to spend the evening in working on her homework, but I thought that she'd have a much better time spending it with us," he explained, all the boys in front of you nodding in response. "Ah, so she's one of the rich girls you're usually hanging around," the tall male blurted, earning him a slap on the side of his head once he was seated. Though you didn't know who he was, you appreciated the gesture. Even if your background warranted the title, you hated being referred to by wealth. It felt odd. "Chanyeol, watch your mouth. She's our guest for the evening, so don't be rude," he reprimanded. He had an older air about him, and you could only assume that he was older than you by his mannerisms. "You are more than welcome here. Baekhyun has told us how busy of a quarter this is for graduating students. You must also be swamped by work and looking for an outlet to blow off some steam," he added, giving you a smile. The male then gestured for all of the boys to scoot inward, and with a bit of trouble, they did just that. Moving towards the center, left the two ends of the table free and you and Baekhyun were quick to fill them. Since you had departed that evening, you had grown used to being attached to Baekhyun, and now you were separated. Even so, the boys were quick to ease you in by introducing themselves. They started things off with the male that you knew as Chanyeol. He was the one that stood to greet you. The one that hit him was named Minseok. Now that you got a good look at him, he had a very young face. But much as you had guessed, he was indeed older, regardless of his youthful appearance. Sitting quietly in between Baekhyun and Chanyeol was Kyungsoo. He hadn't said much, nor had he really reacted. But when it came to greeting you, he gave you a small bow and the hint of a smile, welcoming you to the group. Next to Minseok was Jongdae, whose feline-like lips curled into the most mischievous grin as he introduced himself. You had a feeling you would have to be worried about him, but not for an ominous reason or anything. And last, but surely not least, sitting right next to you was Sehun. When you had initially taken your seat, you didn't get a good look at him. But now that you were face to face, you felt utterly awestruck by him. From your point of view, he was beyond handsome. He had that look that was almost too good to be true, the look that a lot of guys in your social circle tried to achieve. His eyes felt like their pierced right through your heart. His facial features looked like they were sculpted from the most elegant marble. Everything about his just seemed to be too much, too good. So when he asked for your name, it was no surprise that you stuttered it out, having become nervous in his presence. Still, whatever nervousness you had was quickly washed away. The boys very easily let you into their circle, doing their best to make you comfortable. But not without asking some questions, of course. They were mostly curious as to how you knew Baekhyun, and if their friend was a different person around the wealthy. You told them about the entry-level course the two of you took, wherein you became partners for the entire quarter. That partnership turned into a full-on friendship. The two of you went to parties together and did your coursework together. You listened when Baekhyun had a bad breakup, and you were also the one to get him home when he was a little too drunk. You told them that he didn't seem much different, except that he was more relaxed here. They, in turn, jeered and teased, saying that he never talked about that sentimental stuff with them. After all of their teasing, they told you about themselves, and Baekhyun's life before he joined your ranks. They didn't skip out on any embarrassing details, like the time they made him act a fool in front of this girl he had a crush on since grade school. You could tell that Baekhyun was dying having to relive it all, but you enjoyed learning more about your friend. You were particularly surprised to learn how they had all met because Sehun was trying to put together a band back in grade school. Something that started on a whim was now the thing they pursued, looking for that glamorous recording contract. Even more so, you were astounded to find that Baekhyun had also been part of the band. Apparently, as a kid, he had always wanted to sing for a living. It had been his talent. However, when Baekhyun's life shifted, there was no way that he could continue on with the guys. He couldn't make it to practice, and his life completely changed. The boys still kept in touch, but there was no way that Baekhyun could continue to be their singer. "Actually, back in the day, when we had just gotten serious about pursuing careers in music, Jongdae and I used to fight all of the time. We both wanted that lead singing position so bad," Baekhyun told you with a small smile. It looked a little sad to you, given what you knew now, but you didn't push on it. "Their fights used to get so heated that Kyungsoo and Minseok had to physically separate them," Chanyeol pointed out. "It's a miracle we still have a band, honestly." "You're over-exaggerating! It never got that bad," Jongdae countered. Though his insistence was met with a scoff from Kyungsoo. "Apparently Baekhyun hit you so hard in the head that you forgot about that black eye..." With more alcohol in them, they continued to bicker, Baekhyun joining in as well. Seeing them like this made you giggle. Though Baekhyun was far more relaxed around you, this was not a side of him that you were used to seeing in front of your mutual friends. He held himself differently around them. It was nice to see him more comfortable and having fun in his own way. As the boys continued to rowdily argue amongst themselves, over that noise, you heard someone call your name. You were just about to take a drink but were quick to turn and face the individual, seeing Sehun's eyes on you. His gaze was really something else, and if your cheeks weren't red from the alcohol, they were definitely red after making eye contact with him. The two of you hadn't said much to each other at that point. Chanyeol and the others definitely drove the conversation. Though you had to admit, the few times that Sehun did speak up, you were utterly enchanted by him. You knew he was the type of person that women would likely fall for. Stoic, handsome, an absolute charmer, and you guess that it worked on you too. "The others won't tell you this since they aren't very good at expressing it. Their pride often gets in the way, so they don't talk about their feelings very freely. But, on everyone's behalf, I would really like to thank you for taking care of Baekhyun for us," he told you sincerely. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks at his simple, but pointed words. "You don't need to thank me. Baek is as much my friend as he is yours. He's a good person. There's not much I have to do except make sure that he gets home okay," you pointed out sheepishly. Sehun smiled at you then, an expression that you hadn't seen much that evening. "We worried about him, you know. We worried about what would happen to him, getting thrown into a completely different class after his family got all of that money. I'm glad that he has someone like you looking out for him. You're very kindhearted." "I don't think the transition was easy for him, but he's doing well," you admitted. "But one thing that you guys never have to worry about. You will always be his home. I mean, look at how happy he is right now," you teased, hearing Sehun laugh for the first time that evening. It sounded so full and genuine. "I suppose you're right. Even if Baekhyun isn't physically with us, we do seem to be the place he comes back to," Sehun agreed. You could tell that he had more to say, more that he wanted to know, but Sehun lost his opportunity. The other boys pulled you both back into their ridiculous conversation, now talking about their next gig. And just like that, the night got away from all of you... From that moment on, you found yourself hanging out with Baekhyun and his old friends on a somewhat regular basis. Baekhyun was relieved at how well you fit into his little friend group, and so he invited you to more of their outings. When the two of you had time away from internships and classwork, you would grab dinner with them. If the stars aligned and you could disappear for the evening without your other friends knowing, you and Baekhyun would go to their shows. Just as Baekhyun had fallen into your life, so had five wonderful people. After spending so much time with them, there was one thing that you were well aware of. You were developing feelings for Sehun. Initially, you had thought that it was just a mild crush, something you would get over in a month, but when it evolved into more than that, you knew that you were in a bit of trouble. You tried to not make it apparent, spending more time conversing and interacting with the other boys than you did with Sehun. But the moment that the two of you were left to your own devices, whether it be the other boys running ahead, or talking about a topic amongst themselves, you had to interact with Sehun. And every time you did, you swore you felt something there, something more than just friendship. Sehun was very different from that first time you met him. He was far sweeter, and gentler than you had given him credit for. By your third meeting, he had completely broken out of his shell, that stoic image no longer something you associated with him. He was more playful and shared the same energy that the other boys did. Though there were times that the charmer would jump out of him in any given situation, he could be just as fun and entertaining as the others. Your sudden closeness and interest in Sehun did not go unnoticed by Baekhyun. He saw every laugh the two of you exchanged. He saw the loving gazes and the smallest touches. Sehun was always the most prominent advocate of getting you home quickly when you had too much to drink, a stark contrast to the other boys who wanted to keep going. The evidence was there, and Baekhyun confronted you about your feelings towards Sehun. And being the good friend you were... you denied it. You refuted every little thing that he brought up. The two of you were close, and you had become good friends with his friends over the last year. You didn't want to upset him by admitting that you had fallen for one of them. You all had a good thing going... even if every bit of proof that Baekhyun threw at you was real. You would continue to deny it. This only got you so far... and it all came crumbling down the night that Sehun stopped by. Rarely did Sehun come to visit you or Baekhyun on campus. He usually stayed away like the plague, unlike the other boys. But that night, he had come looking for Baekhyun. Unfortunately, you had to let him know that your dear friend was out for the evening, getting dragged to some party. He looked a bit bummed about it, but it didn't seem to bother him much. Out of the blue, he asked if he could still stay for the evening, not having any plans of his own. Though you told yourself that it was a bad idea, you agreed anyway, his presence always welcome. You had some work that you had to finish for your internship that night, and though you told him you could do it later, Sehun insisted that his appearance not interrupt your plans for the evening. Instead, he sat silently by your side, watching as you worked, hands moving around the designs as you searched for the ones you needed. Sehun never spoke, his eyes just following your every move, eyes tracing over each of your features. Unconsciously, Sehun reached a hand out to brush some stray hairs behind your ear so that he could get a better look at you. The action seemed to knock you right out of your trace as you turned quickly to look at him. The moment your eyes locked, you were both done for. Sehun took the opportunity and leaned in to tenderly brush his lips against your own. Once your lips met, you could feel yourself melting under his touch, your eyes closing at the softness of the kiss. There was no denying how you felt for each other then. Your bodies made the move that neither of you dared to speak into existence. Of course, this wasn't something either of you could keep a secret. The moment that you both settled into the kiss, the front door opened and Baekhyun came right in, eyes taking in the image of his two friends kissing. He told you both to just bite the bullet and date, that it was more awkward watching the two of you dancing around each other. And the rest after that was history. After a year of getting to know each other, of pretending that there wasn't something there, it finally happened. Ever since the night you had met him, you knew that Sehun was not someone that you were willing to lose…

#oh sehun #sehun #exo #exo scenarios #kwritersworldnet #exo fiction #exo fanfic #exo imagines #sehun scenarios #sehun imagines #kpop scenarios #goodnightkisseu series #gnks: time to heal

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Overpowered Part 7 [FINAL] (Branjie)- athena2

A/N: Well, the last chapter is here and I’m in my feelings. Three months ago, I was looking at Brooke’s superhero runway look and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I decided I really wanted to write it even if no one would read it. The response this fic has gotten has blown my mind. Every comment, like, reblog, etc. has given me such joy and it honestly means the world to me; the sequel definitely wouldn’t have happened without your support. I’ve put my heart and soul into this for 3 months, and I’m really happy with the ending. Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone that read, commented, liked, shared, etc. If I could thank each one of you, I would. I’ve got some exciting new works planned, and I hope you’ll stick around to read them!

Also, thank you @writworm42 for helping me get the final scene together

Brooke’s fingers constantly drift to her ring, like she needs to touch it just to prove that it’s real.

To prove that her entire life is real.

When the worries break through and threaten to consume her, when she struggles to see herself as anything other than a burden weighing Vanessa down, Vanessa’s promise to love her forever and always be there for her echoes in Brooke’s brain and forms a protective shield over her, fears and doubts ricocheting off and banished from her mind.

Her vows in return extend the same protection, and she hopes it makes Vanessa feel safe when she struggles herself. She hopes Vanessa knows that Brooke will always love her no matter what.

She rubs the smooth ring in their hotel that morning, trying to calm the bouncing in her leg as Vanessa sleeps. Vanessa had been too excited to sleep much on the train, and Brooke is so grateful Vanessa didn’t even mention flying down to Florida, that she was willing to spend a whole day on a train for her, that she’ll let Vanessa sleep all day if she needs to.

She pulls out her notebook and flips through the pages Vanessa had written her for Valentine’s Day, all her favorite memories the two of them made. Brooke giggles to herself as she reads about when she and Vanessa made pizza, and Vanessa tossed the dough in the air and got it stuck to the ceiling. She’s reading about the time they were on patrol and took a break to play in the snow when Vanessa’s phone blares. Brooke jumps, papers scattering over her lap, and Vanessa rolls over with a groan.

“This hoe can’t even leave us alone on our honeymoon,” Vanessa grumbles as she puts the phone on speaker.

“I have exciting news I think you’ll like to hear,” Silk announces grandly.

“The last time you had exciting news, it was about the crunch wrap at Taco Bell, so-”

“Quake and Shockwave are going away for life in the Pacific Prison. They’re gone, and I mean it this time,” Silk cuts Vanessa off.

Neither of them speaks. The Pacific Prison, on the other side of the country, was reserved for the worst criminals.

Vanessa ends the call, and Brooke turns to her, wetness in the corners of her eyes. “We’re really safe, Brooke,” Vanessa says. “They can’t touch us again.”

They embrace in the bed and Brooke holds on to Vanessa and this moment, completely wrapped up in the security like a blanket.

They break apart, and Vanessa pushes tangled hair out of her eyes and pulls her clothes on. “You could have woken me earlier,” she insists.

“I wanted to let you sleep. Besides, we have time. We have the whole week.”

We have our whole lives, she thinks, and today is just the beginning. —

They decided on Disney for their honeymoon. Vanessa hasn’t been since she was a kid, and Brooke is pretty sure she went before, but can’t remember it that well.

They talked and laughed and pointed out all the animals and weird billboards they saw out the window on their train ride, which Vanessa had booked without hesitating over the 24-hour journey; she knew without question that flying wasn’t an option.

They run through the gates at Magic Kingdom and Brooke is bouncing up and down, and Vanessa couldn’t stop smiling if she wanted to. She feels like a kid again, the sky bright and a perfect day blooming in front of her. They approach the castle and Brooke gasps.

“I’ve been here before!” she exclaims. “I think I was 9, maybe?” She rubs hard at her temples, trying to force the memories to come, and Vanessa is about to ease her hands away and tell her it’s alright if she can’t remember when Brooke claps. “The train ride! There’s a roller coaster like a train! Can we go on it?”

“Of course we can,” Vanessa laughs. “You’ll like Splash Mountain too. That one was my favorite. It’s a water ride.”

“You go in the giant log!” Brooke shrieks. “I remember!” And she grabs Vanessa’s hand and they wade through old memories as they make new ones.

They get matching ears and stuff themselves with so many mouse-shaped foods that Vanessa almost hurls on Thunder Mountain, which Brooke drags her on three times in a row.

They have to dial back their strength before they break the wheel on the teacup ride, and Vanessa may or may not speed past some screaming 5-year-olds to get a front row seat on Splash Mountain, a decision she regrets slightly after the mammoth order of chili cheese fries she and Brooke split.

She can’t remember the last time she felt so carefree, so weightless. She thinks she could actually float away. Brooke is by her side, slurping at her second ice cream cone (sometimes Vanessa thought the ice powers were scarily accurate), and there’s nowhere she’d rather be, no one whose arm she’d rather have around her shoulders on the It’s a Small World ride.

That night she kisses Brooke as red and blue fireworks soar and fizzle in the black sky over the castle, and just like on their wedding day, the explosions of joy inside her rival any in the sky. —

They come back home and resettle into life as a married couple. It’s honestly not that much different than it was before. They volunteer at the animal shelter together again, cats and dogs licking at their hands. They make dinner together, looking for any excuse to bump shoulders or brush arms as garlic is chopped and spaghetti boils. They wedge themselves into the couch with all three pets, Vanessa flicking through channels while Brooke flips through cookbooks. They go to bed with limbs intertwined, difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins.

They fulfill their vows everyday. Brooke insists on patrolling when she isn’t feeling well, and Vanessa tucks her into bed that night and spends the next day swirling honey into tea to soothe her throat, simmering chicken soup, and laying cold washcloths on her sweaty forehead. Vanessa gets deep into it with a villain going after a young girl, fists flying and rage burning, and Brooke cleans all her cuts and spreads cream on her bruises and massages her aching muscles, helping the anger ease out on a wave of gratitude that the girl wasn’t harmed.

They each go to Nina, and Brooke dutifully takes her medication every morning. Progress takes time and isn’t always in one direction, Nina reminds them both as they continue to heal.

They zip through damp spring air, Frost maintaining her death grip on the handle, Yvie with her legs draped across Scarlet’s lap in the backseat while they hold hands, Vanjie howling out the window on their way to another crime.

People come up to them and deliver sincere thank you’s thick with tears, two young kids throw their arms around all four of them in turn, and for all the joking and griping, for all the fears and doubts, they know that keeping people safe makes it all worth it.

That battling supervillains and battling your personal villains equally make you a hero. —

Brooke reads her file again, piece by piece. She knows to do it with Vanessa or Nina, after she read it alone one day and wound up on the bedroom floor, knees to her chest, the tide of panic so strong and swift she couldn’t fight as it overtook her and stole the air from her lungs.

She learns that she was an only child and that her parents died when she was 20, a few months before she began dancing professionally. She started in on the business side of the company six years later, working her way up, and was the youngest co-director in the company’s history, her heart filling with disbelief and a long-ago pride as she reads, Vanessa’s steady hand on her shoulder grounding her.

The nightmares aren’t as frequent, and she gets occasional flashes of her life pre-lab, sometimes just a random image, like a photograph floating through her mind. Sitting at a desk doing homework, her tiny hand clutching a stuffed monkey, a glittering gold dance trophy, smiling in her black graduation robe.

She still gets big ones, flashbacks that feel like they last for days, depleting her energy while the horror of memory traps her in its grasp, helpless until it ends. She manages them easier now, knows to lie down afterwards and let her body and mind rest.

She decides to tell Yvie and Scarlet what happened. Nina said it was her information to share, and she wants to share it. Brooke trusts them, and she’s pretty positive they won’t pity her or think any less of her, and they don’t. They both shed tears and give her big hugs and say how happy they are that she’s healing now.

Ra’jah said that with all the complicated drugs the lab gave her, most of them advanced and untested, it’s likely she won’t regain all her memories, and Brooke is genuinely okay with it. After over a year of being locked in a cage she didn’t know was a cage, not knowing the happiness she was being denied, not even knowing her own name, any memories at all are special and enough for her. She writes down her flashes and dreams and revisits them, focuses on the memories and the delight, or sorrow, or nerves she might have felt at the time.

And every day, she makes new memories. Memories of blowing flour at Vanessa across the kitchen. Memories of slow-dancing in the living room at midnight, heartbeats replacing words. Memories of Vanessa tripping over Apollo after said slow-dance, both of them laughing till they cried, sharing crinkly-eyed grins.

Just like Nina told her to do in one of their first sessions, she lists things she does know.

She knows that she is in a much better place than she was a year ago, both mentally and physically.

She knows her parents loved her in the flashes she gets, even if she doesn’t remember completely.

She knows she has friends that love and support her.

She knows she loves Vanessa, and Vanessa loves her.

She knows that she will continue to do the best she can. —

Vanessa knows something’s up when Brooke picks at her food and excuses herself right after dinner, but she’s not sure what until Brooke emerges from the bedroom with her pointe shoes on, brow furrowed and teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“Vanessa, I…I want to show you. I want to dance for you.”

Vanessa has wanted to see Brooke dance since Christmas, but she didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to put that pressure on her.

They move the coffee table and Vanessa seats herself on the couch while Brooke stands, eyes on her feet. Her shoulders rise up and down twice, then she nods to herself, and starts to move.

Vanessa remembers when they used to fight, when Brooke’s fighting techniques were so graceful and elegant that Vanessa thought she seemed out of place as a fighter, like her body should be doing something else. Now, she knows exactly what that something is.

Brooke spins and twirls and jumps and Vanessa’s eyes are wide, forcing herself not to blink because she doesn’t want to miss a second. Brooke moves so exquisitely, so beautifully, that their living room transforms into a stage and her leggings and T-shirt become a delicately sewn costume. Vanessa is lucky just to take her beauty in.

Whatever nerves Brooke was showing melt away. Her eyes are bright and focused, not a hint of hesitation in her movements. It’s the most confident Vanessa has ever seen her.

She makes it look so natural, so easy, though Vanessa knows if she tried it she’d be flat on her ass with a broken ankle.

Her eyes have the same sparkle as when they went to the ballet last week: like a missing part of her had been found again. —

Brooke’s not sure when, but at some point while she dances, she stops thinking and simply lives. There’s no couch, no walls, no ceiling to box her in or imprison her. Even Vanessa fades into the background. There’s no thought of what move is next, no consideration of what criminals she’ll stop later; it’s just the air flowing around her, existing solely to whoosh past her limbs as she goes up on her toes and spins around, and it feels like flying.

She’s been practicing in their room, studying YouTube videos and observing herself in the mirror, but out here is different. She has the space to roam, and she’s not going cross-eyed staring into the mirror looking for her flaws.

She just lets herself go, lets herself be.

Nina was right. Even though she’s not perfect, it doesn’t matter; she feels each stretch in her muscles, mind quiet and calm as her body takes over, every atom of her being alight with pleasure. She didn’t need to be perfect. She just needed to be free.

She finishes with a flourish and a deep breath, oxygen going in and intensifying the good ache deep in her muscles, and Vanessa bursts into applause.

Heat floods her cheeks. “You liked it?”

“Liked it?” Vanessa scoffs. “That was incredible, Mary!”

“I just-” A sob swallows Brooke’s response, cheeks damp without warning. She can’t explain it, wouldn’t even know how to start. There truly aren’t any words; the closest she can manage is a bird spreading its wings for the first time, nothing to hold it back.

Vanessa rubs her back in understanding. “You don’t gotta talk. Just let yourself feel it.” She takes Brooke’s hand. “I’ve never seen anything like that. Seriously, Brooke.”

It’s like the lab’s chains never even bound her.

It’s like a part of her she thought gone forever has come back to her. —

“I’ve been thinking of working with A’Keria,” Vanessa admits one night, head on Brooke’s chest and arm around her waist, stroking her hip.

“Instead of at the base, you mean?” Brooke questions.

She nods against Brooke’s skin. “She said the woman who owns the salon is looking for someone to do make-up, and that’s what I used to do, you know? I mean, working at the base is great, but I think I need a bit of a change.”

The base is calm, and predictable, and she had needed that stability when she first got her powers and was readjusting to the world. But now she’s ready for more, something besides reviewing case records and running daytime city monitors.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“You do?” Vanessa had thought so herself, but it also seemed like too big of an idea to think was good on your own; the kind of idea where you wanted to see what someone else thought of it.

“Yeah. If you want to do it, I think you should.” Brooke’s voice is enthusiastic, fingers twirling Vanessa’s hair.

“I think I will.” She pauses before her mouth opens again. “Have you thought about leaving the base, doing a different day job? Maybe you could work at a ballet studio or something?”

Brooke is silent and Vanessa holds her breath. Brooke’s been doing great lately, especially with her meds, but changing jobs is a big deal for anyone and maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

“I’ve talked about it with Nina before,” Brooke answers right as Vanessa is about to tell her she doesn’t have to. “I…I think I’d like to. Eventually. I know I’d have to work on it with Nina. I mean, the last job I had was 2 years ago and I barely remember it, and I’d have to do interviews and stuff and just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt-”

“Hey, hey, just breathe,” Vanessa soothes, feeling Brooke’s chest tighten and her heart take off beneath her. “I know that would be hard for you. You don’t have to be in any rush. You just be you. If you decide to change, I’ll be here to help you. If not, I’m here too. I’ll always be here.”

Brooke’s lips are soft against her temple. They fall asleep quickly, and she calls the salon the next morning. —

“Are you sure you want Vanessa to teach you to drive?” Yvie asks, fixing Brooke a pointed stare as she sips orange juice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vanessa demands across the table.

Scarlet pipes up. “Well, we drive around with you in that death trap of a car every night-”

“I know how to drive,” Brooke insists. “I just haven’t done it in a while.”

The lab gave her a motorcycle to use on her missions and to go to her appointments, though they sometimes drove her home in a security car depending on how out of it she was after the drugs hit.

“Vanessa’s a decent driver,” A’Keria starts.

“Thank y-”

“If your only other option is walking,” A’Keria finishes around a mouthful of toast.

“Hey!”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Brooke cuts in. “I mean, I just want to go to the grocery store, not-”

“Drive for NASCAR?” Silk snorts.

Vanessa takes her to an empty lot that afternoon. Brooke keeps readjusting her sweaty hands on the wheel. The last time she’d driven had been in a downpour, her worried focus enabling her to see through raindrops and her own teary, bloodshot eyes, to get Vanessa from the cemetery Brooke knew she went to when she was upset.

“You gotta take your foot off the brake,” Vanessa instructs softly.

“I know, I know. I’m just…nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous for, baby. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

Brooke nods and eases onto the gas. She breathes in and out as the car glides across the pavement. It’s…okay. Sure, they’re going about 15 miles an hour, but she finds her grip loosening as she makes easy turns and changes directions.

“You’re doing great!” Vanessa encourages. “Maybe I’ll open up a driving school!” —-

“We really do have cake for everything, don’t we?” Scarlet muses. “Brooke’s like a lesbian Martha Stewart.”

“Bold of you to assume Martha Stewart isn’t already a lesbian,” Yvie murmurs thoughtfully.

“I didn’t see you complaining over those tree cupcakes for Arbor Day,” Silk states.

Vanessa digs into the chocolate cake, her leg nestling against Brooke’s under the table. She just started at the salon that day and Brooke wanted to have pizza and cake for her, spending the afternoon on caramel filling and cream cheese frosting.

It’s only been a day, but she already knows she loves it there, feels some of the old Vanessa peeking through, delighting in the salon gossip with A’Keria and the other girls and helping her clients feel good. And the best part is, she’s just Vanessa. No one knows about Vanjie, and she can focus on powders and lipsticks instead of weapons and fighting tactics.

It’s comforting to know the old Vanessa isn’t entirely gone. —

“There’s, um, there’s a job opening at this ballet studio. The same one that did the show Vanessa and I went to,” Brooke explains.

“And you’re interested in it?” Nina prompts.

“Well, maybe I could- I mean,” she sighs and starts again. “I want to. I-I think I might be able to, but I would need some help. Is that okay?”

“Brooke, that’s wonderful! I do think you could take on something like this, and we can talk about anything you’re fearful of or think you need help with. This is a big step and I’m proud of you. I want to tell you that again, Brooke. I’m very proud of the progress you’ve made. I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but you’ve worked so hard and you deserve to be proud of yourself.” Nina’s voice washes over Brooke and her insides heat up.

“You really think so?” Brooke asks, grin breaking free.

“I know so,” Nina affirms. “Think of how far you’ve come. Remember our first session?”

Brooke did, face flushing at the memory. Even though she knew Nina wasn’t that kind of doctor and Vanessa promised Nina wouldn’t hurt her, Brooke sunk into the chair with her knees against her chest and her head down, and Vanessa had stayed outside the door just in case. But Nina had been kind, and told Brooke to use her first name instead of Dr. West, and by the end of the hour, Brooke was at least able to lift her head up.

“Yeah.”

Nina smiles. “You hardly talked. But look how much more comfortable you are now. I know you still have days that don’t go as well as you’d like, but you’re still here, and you keep working. Have pride in that, okay?”

Brooke nods because she can’t speak around the lump in her throat. Brooke has felt the changes in herself, but to have someone else, someone like Nina, notice and tell her she’s doing well, is a kind of pride Brooke can’t describe.

“Oh, and Brooke?”

“Yeah?”

“Speaking of progress, do you remember when I asked you to try not to apologize when you’re here?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s been an hour, and you didn’t apologize once.”

Brooke’s eyes narrow and all she can do is stare at Nina in disbelief, rifling through her words from the past hour. Sure enough, she can’t remember an apology passing her lips.

For just a second, Brooke almost apologizes for not apologizing, I’m sorry’s second nature to her.

Brooke closes her mouth, suppressing the reflex, as Nina’s words sink in. It may have taken over 6 months from when Nina asked, but she did it.

Progress takes time, Nina always said, and while some small part of Brooke thinks something like this shouldn’t have taken so long, she knows not to measure herself with shoulds and shouldn’ts. Her progress is her progress.

Her face spreads into a wide smile. “That’s, um, that’s good then,” Brooke manages.

Nina smiles back. “It sure is.” —

Vanessa’s been at the salon a month now, thriving like a summer flower after a cold winter. Her body is strong and focused, and with Nina’s blessing, she starts doing monthly therapy sessions instead of weekly ones.

She nuzzles against Brooke one night and cautiously slips her hand under Brooke’s shirt. Usually Brooke would go rigid when Vanessa got too close to her scars. One time she even pushed her hand away, like she was ashamed of them.

But tonight, she doesn’t. She tenses the tiniest bit, but then the muscles relax again. “It’s okay,” Brooke murmurs, and Vanessa sets her fingers, warm with love, over Brooke’s icy skin.

Her fingers brush over the tiny one between her ribs, then the one below it, the one Vanessa stitched herself after Brooke took a bullet for her on the night that they- and the life they have- began. She warms the one just above her waist, where the doctor shot her.

And then her hand roams up to the big one, the thick, raised line that starts at the hollow of Brooke’s chest and runs to her abdomen; based on her file, this is how they’d repaired the internal damage she sustained in the crash.

She knows Brooke has always been torn about her scars, much like Vanessa is about the one she got from the lightning strike. They are permanent reminders, etched on skin, that they suffered through things no one ever should. But they’re also signs that they survived those things, that they’re still living.

She rests her hand over Brooke’s heart, the gentle beat calming beneath her hand. Instead of telling Brooke that the scars make no difference to her, that they don’t make her any less worthy of love, she lets her hand speak as it warms Brooke’s body, hoping Brooke understands that Vanessa loves her no matter what.

The knowing look in her green eyes says that she does, and Brooke slides her hand up Vanessa’s shirt, stopping at her hip. Vanessa nods, and goosebumps form as Brooke’s hand smooths over the small pink scar on her chest before settling on her heart.

They just lay there, arms tangled up, hands on each other’s hearts, pulsing against their touches.

It reminds her of their first night together, no need to talk as their touches exuded more love than words could ever describe, as their hands delicately explored each other’s faces, unaware that the lips and noses and cheeks they were touching would soon become familiar terrain.

Unaware that they would soon come to recognize the sound of each other’s breathing.

Unaware how big a space they would soon occupy in each other’s hearts. —

The July night is warm, and they had looked at the calendar that morning and realized it was one year. One year since Brooke was released from her hospital bed after being shot, one year since Vanessa took her home and they began their new lives together, free from the lab.

One year, and things are still changing. Vanessa got promoted to head make-up artist at the salon, and in two weeks Brooke starts assisting the director of a ballet company, taking the first step to get where she would like to be someday. Silk took care of the paperwork, replaced all her personal documents the lab had stolen; Nina spent weeks with her practicing interview skills and ensuring she felt ready to work outside the base; and Vanessa supported her the whole way, rubbing her back when she threw up from nerves the morning of her interview and insisting on a pizza party when Brooke got the job.

The city shines below, bright lights beaming, so dazzling they almost made you forget the crimes occurring below. Crimes they were going to stop.

They settle on the blanket Vanessa’s laid on the rooftop, suits on but masks off, still Brooke and Vanessa, as she unpacks the basket, laying out marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers.

“S’mores?” Brooke asks uncertainly.

“S’mores, baby!”

“But there’s no fi-ohhh.”

Vanessa winks. “This is one of the best perks of fire powers. I kept forgetting to show you.” She dangles a marshmallow above the small flame flickering in her hand, watching as the skin crackles to a crisp golden brown before laying it on top of the chocolate and forming a perfect s’more.

Brooke takes it in her eager hands as Vanessa whips up another for herself, arranging potato chips on top, and they laugh as marshmallow clings to their lips, trading sugary kisses to get it off.

“Vanessa, I love you,” Brooke says. “I love you so much, and I don’t know if I told you today, so I want to say it now and make sure you know.”

Vanessa reaches over and takes her hand. “I love you too, baby. So, so much. And you better know it too.”

Their lips meet again, Brooke’s hands resting on Vanessa’s hips and Vanessa’s hands stroking Brooke’s back, love bursting off them in sparks. No matter how many times they’ve kissed, each one is special in its own way, like a snowflake.

“Got a report of breaking and entering at the department store on 13th,” comes the voice in their ears.

“What’s a kiss without Silk to interrupt it?” Vanessa mumbles.

They reach in one for one last kiss, one last blend of sweet chocolate and sticky marshmallow, of fire and ice, before reaching for their masks.

They traipse down the ladder and Vanjie revs up Bertha. Frost extends her arm and they lock hands over the center console.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Vanjie tears away from the curb and they head deeper into the city, chasing the moonlight that shines on them both, each of them thinking how beautiful the other looks with the moon in her hair.

They both know they won’t be able to do this forever, that eventually a day will come when they have to hang up the masks. And when they do, they might pick up the phone and call a child adoption agency. Hopefully by then they’ll have the cozy little house they’re saving for, with flowers and a vegetable garden in the back.

But that’s the future. A future neither thought they could have, but one they can make happen.

Together.

For now, they have lives to live and memories to make.

They have each other.

And they’ve got a city to save. —

Post-Credits Scene Years Later

“These are the flowers we’re gonna give Mommy,” Vanessa instructs Lily, wiping frosting from the cupcakes Brooke made off her lip. “It’s her first show as the director and we want it to be special, right?”

“Right!” Lily agrees. “Wanna hold ‘em! I a big girl, Mama.” She flashes the brilliant grin Vanessa has seen every day since they adopted her three years ago, and Vanessa knows she’ll never tire of it.

Vanessa smiles. “You are a big girl, huh? You can hold them.” She bends down and puts the bright bouquet in her daughter’s tiny hands. “I’m gonna get Mommy, okay?”

“Okay!”

Vanessa knows exactly where Brooke is going to be: their bedroom, staring out the window at the garden. Her favorite place to think.

Brooke’s shoulders rise up and down evenly, and Vanessa knows she’s doing her breathing techniques. The sun shines off her short blonde hair, and she fills out her black suit so well it should be illegal. The sight of her still makes Vanessa’s body warm and her heart flutter, even years later.

“You okay?” Vanessa asks, taking Brooke’s hand. “You were quiet during dinner.”

Brooke nods, and her eyes are damp. “Yeah. Just…thinking about how lucky we are. You and A’Keria running the salon now, and me directing the company, and Lily…we’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

“We sure have.” It hasn’t been an easy road for either of them, but it’s taken them places they never thought they could go, given them things they never thought they could have.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” Brooke asks.

Vanessa nods. “You sure did, baby. And I love you too. Don’t you forget it.”

Vanessa stretches up and kisses Brooke, and it still feels like the first time.

The kiss is interrupted by Lily’s hand tugging on Vanessa’s dress. She thrusts the flowers at Brooke, whose tears fall harder as she accepts them.

“Are you sad, Mommy?” Lily asks.

“No, baby, I’m not sad. I’m really, really happy.” Brooke scoops Lily up, and the little girl is sandwiched between Brooke and Vanessa in a hug.

“A’Keria and the others are gonna meet us,” Vanessa reminds Brooke. “You ready?”

“Ready.” Brooke nods.

“Ready!” Lily shouts.

They pile in the car, and this time, they’re not racing to stop a criminal. This time, they’re riding to live their lives.

And it is every bit as heroic.

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