#*slaps car* you pack can so many issues in this man

[chibigrimmreaper]

it's an extremely fair, and obvious assesment (outright stated in the 1st episode so go figure) that louis decisions are largely shaped by his family trauma.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Fireworks

Prompt: Okay, I might be a bit late, but in honor of America being, well, America, could I request a Virgil hurt/comfort where he gets freaked out by the fireworks? Love your writing btw - anon

I've been experimenting with shorter form prose and I kinda like it???

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: platonic dlampr

Word Count: 1000

Virgil doesn’t hate the Fourth of July except yes he absolutely fucking does.

No, he’s not gonna do the whole rant, that takes too long, most people who are on Tumblr already know it by heart, we’ve been there, done that, no need to beat a dead horse.

No there isn’t, Remus, put that down.

The point is Virgil likes the Fourth of July not one little bit mostly because it’s gaudy. Come on, the oversaturated red-white-and-blue? Eugh. Princey can pull off red the way he does because he’s Roman and Patton can pull off country-club-dad vibes without trying. Logan doesn’t like the Fourth either so he’s in no danger from that navy getting corrupted by gross displays of patriotic affection. The most they ever get from Logan is his ‘I Voted’ button which is perfect and all they need. Janus is yellow and more on the hating-the-Fourth trend than Virgil is. Solidarity.

Remus just likes the excuse to throw hot dogs and mustard at people. Sure.

Patton likes the Fourth because it’s a good way to spend time as a family, allegedly. It’s not like they have another choice, not with the way everyone wants to get together to celebrate. The man isn’t allowed near the grill. That’s the rule. Which is fine, just distract him enough for the cooking to be over and done with and everything’s fine.

Roman…also doesn’t really like the Fourth, but he does like the excuse to sing. Really loudly. Eh, Princey can actually sing, so it’s fine. And he will come and hide with Virgil in some out-of-the-way corner so they can complain about other people.

Logan gets into political fights.

Yes, you heard that right.

It’s not pretty.

Well, when everyone’s a little tipsier than normal and Virgil can stand to be around people he normally hates just to watch Logan fucking annihilate them, it’s pretty fucking satisfying.

Just dodge the hot dogs and keep Janus from running his mouth too much, that’s the deal.

No, the part he really hates is when it gets dark.

Fireworks are awful. He’ll say it. Sure, from a chemistry and marketing standpoint, they’re great. Fantastic. Continue to exploit the planet for temporary momentary and aesthetic appeal, sure.

He loathes the damn things. They’re so fucking loud.

And you never know exactly when they’re going to go off.

And the whole fucking day is just a lead-up to those fucking things, so if you leave before they happen or while they’re happening, everyone will talk about it. Oh, where’d you go? You missed the best part! Come back, the fireworks are starting, we can’t leave until they’re done. Just stay ‘till the end of the show, it’ll be fine.

No, no he will not.

So when he’s half-heartedly swatted at half a dozen mosquitos and sat down in a chair that had soda spilled onto it and threatens to buckle under his weight—thanks for those additional body issues, you limp cardboard excuse for furniture—he grits his teeth and tries to pull out his headphones as stealthily as he can. He’s learned from having his phones slapped out of his hands, or worse, confiscated, by too many haughty relatives that if he wants to try and protect himself when they start to go off, he’s got to do it carefully.

Not too carefully that his phone dies and his headphones won’t connect, though!

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, “shit, shit, shit—“

He glances around. No way he’s getting out of here. No way. He’s trapped. He’s stuck. No way out. He’s going to have to stay here. They’re about to go off at any second and he’s stuck, nowhere to go, nothing to do, nothing to distract him—

Of course, he’s overlooked one thing. And that is that nothing happens to him without the others noticing.

So when Roman and Remus start loudly bickering about how hot it is and Roman flounces his way back inside with Remus chasing after him, he misses the look they exchange and the way Roman veers slightly to the left to crash into one of the rudest aunts they have.

He misses the way Logan discreetly pockets the last snack pack for Virgil as he stands, muttering excuses about keeping the twins in line.

He misses the way Janus carefully scoops him up, doing it in a clever way to make it look like Virgil is the one doing the leading as they scoot toward the door.

He misses the way Patton nods as Janus raises an eyebrow, distracting would-be worriers—real and fake—with thank-you’s and well-wishes and promises they won’t remember by morning.

He does remember the soft thud of the car door and the instant muffling of all the noises.

He does remember the way Roman’s hand cards through his hair and guides it to his shoulder, humming a song under his breath as Remus takes his hand and starts playing with it.

He does remember Patton turning the radio on low as Logan begins to navigate them home, Janus behind the wheel as he glances at Virgil in the back seat.

Roman softly asks if he thinks he can make it up the stairs home, helping him to the couch and placing the noise-canceling headphones over his ears. Remus plugs them into the headphone jack and hands the phone to Virgil before tugging Roman to help get the blankets set up.

Logan finds the documentary and they sit, opening his arms to welcome Virgil down with them. Janus and Patton bring the snacks in from the kitchen as Janus curls Virgil’s hand around the snack pack.

As the documentary plays, Virgil leans his head onto Patton’s shoulder and smiles.

He hates the Fourth, he loves his family.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[cocobutnochanel]

The Kims | 18+

Genre: smut, angst, romance, au, drama

Main Characters: Kim Minseok, Kim Junmyeon, Kim Jongdae x Reader (oc: female)

Warnings: swearing, sex scenes, slavery(not literally iguess), mentions of death, mentions of abuse, abandonment

Summary: When you thought life wasn't a fairytale and you were no Cinderella, truth slaps you in the face when you become an orphan overnight and your step-family sells you off to the richest family in town.

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Part 1

(Part 2, Part 3)

‘Live, baby. Live your life to the fullest.’

You can still hear your eomma's last words to you before she passed away. It kept replaying in your head ever since she was announced dead.

She was the only family member left. You were an only child whose father was also dead. Life may have not been in your favor exactly but you came from a rich family. At least, that made up for it.

You feel hot tears run down your face when you see your mother's face inside a coffin. Sadness, anger and longing wash over you. You knew your mother's health was getting bad but you weren't expecting her to leave you just like that.

"Y/N! Get your stuff sorted!" You hear your stepbrother, Oh Sehun, scream from the second floor of your house. You were suspicious as to why he was in your room and touching your things but you shrugged it off. Your stepfather would kill you if you said something bad about his sons.

You ignored the the strangeness of the situation and immediately climbed upstairs. "Coming!" You called, wiping your tears away. You hear Chanyeol, your other stepbrother, chuckle at the sight of you crying. You just sigh and make your way to Sehun who wouldn't stop shouting your name now.

You knew it was strange that he was in your room but what surprised you was him stuffing your things inside a suitcase.

"Oppa! What are you doing?" You exclaimed, running to your room that became a mess after what he did. Your hands were trembling as your eyes scanned your things that were half-ruined now because of your stepbrother. You quickly get on your knees to see your belongings now scattered on the floor.

You look up to him, looking for some sort of explanation but his eyes were dead and he refused to say anything. God, this frustrated you so much. 

You feel another presence in the room so you whip your head around and see Chanyeol leaning on the doorframe. "Appa's getting rid of you finally." His icy deep voice was enough to scare you, the idea of moving out made you want to faint.

You tried to control your breathing as you see Chanyeol smiling at your state. "Please don't." You begged shamelessly and that earned another chuckle from Chanyeol. You bit your lip so hard, you tasted blood in your mouth.

Moving out? Getting rid? The hot tears you wiped off your face earlier came back in a split second. The Ohs weren't exactly nice to you but they were all you had after your mother passed away. No relatives, no family friends, no anything. This house was the only roof you could go under. Fuck, the world outside was meaner than the Ohs could ever be. It terrified you beyond belief.

"I'm sorry." An emotionless apology from Sehun didn't make it any better. You spent almost eight years with them ever since your eomma married your stepfather when you were barely eleven. "Appa was struggling with the funds when your mom was sick. He had no choice but to borrow money and now, he couldn't return it. The only way to pay it was to send you there." Your eyes widen at his reason. It was absolute bullshit.

"B-But my trust fund! It could pay the debt, right? Shouldn’t we call the family lawyer first?" You try to find another reason to stay but Chanyeol cut your thoughts off with his voice. "Pack it up, Cinderella, you don't have all day." With that, he walked out of the room. 

With slumped shoulders, you fall to the floor. You were defeated in all aspects. You lost your mother and now, you had to lose your home and only family too.

"I don't understand it at all. I had a trust fund. That would be enough to pay off eomma's hospital bills." You whispered as your heart ached. You tried to look at Sehun again but his eyes were emotionless. You knew he was the kinder brother to you despite being whiney but what you couldn't believe was him lying to you right now. Your trust fund was more than enough. Also, your mother’s company wasn’t going bankrupt for your family to reach this measure.

"You really need to pack up, Y/N. Appa would be fuming if he went home and you're still here.." Sehun said, pushing your suitcase nearer to you. It might hurt that these people you consider family are sending you to some stranger they borrowed money from but Sehun made a point. "You know it'd be bad to anger Appa." He retaliated.

That woke you up. Your stepfather may have not laid a finger on you before but he spat so many hurtful words. He had the shortest temper and you weren't sure that he wouldn't hurt you physically now that your mother was dead. 

With his anger management issues and hugeass body, he could kill you with his bare hands. That urged you to stand and start stuffing your suitcase with as much clothes as you could.

Your tears eventually dried and Sehun left your room. Your knees and hands were trembling like they were earlier but that didn't stop you from packing your things. The imagery of your angry stepfather's huge figure made you go on. It was fear that made you want to live even if your whole life was as trashy as it was already. After all, this was all your mother wanted before she died. For you to live.

After putting all the stuff you needed inside your bags, you quickly scurry off to the entrance of your house. You had no idea where you would be going but staying in this house also meant you'd die. You had to try your chances that the people your stepfather is indebted to is somehow less cruel and would not kill me. Wherever it was, you tried to assure yourself it'd be better than staying here.

"Hey, Cindy! A carriage is waiting outside for you." You hated the new nickname Chanyeol gave you but you knew you'd never see him again in your life. You guessed. These people would never let you go without paying the debt and you know your stepfather would never do that. That thought dismissed all the anger in your head for him.

You drag your luggage outside and see a black car. This must be the carriage Chanyeol was referring to. It looked very expensive and it was also heavily tinted. Whoever your stepfather was indebted to, they were filthy rich.

You hesitated as it approached you. Was this right? Your mother's dead body was lying in your living room right now. You should be weeping instead of running away. You haven't even had the chance to grieve yet here you are, being kicked out of the house you grew up in. The house you made memories with. The only home that you ever knew.

The hesitations quickly evaporated as you heard your stepfather's Range Rover approaching. You knew that engine sound all too well. You have hurried off to your room a lot when you were younger whenever you got in trouble with your stepdad. So instinctively, you ran to the black car's door, never looking back at the home you once had.

Your hands stopped shaking and you finally started to breathe properly as the black car pulled out of your home's driveway. Your stepfather’s Range Rover was already out of earshot and you knew you were safe. For now.

Doubts and overthinking clouded your mind. You wanted to be afraid and scared at what might await me. But also, you couldn’t go back home. Your head hurt after so much thinking, you dozed off inside the car as the worries now left your troubled mind.

You felt a nudge on your shoulder, pulling you to consciousness. Your eyes slowly flutter open as you try to sit up properly. "We're here.." You heard the driver say. He was a white-haired guy my age. He also gave me a smile and tried to help me up.

"Where are we, sir?" Your voice was hoarse and the car door flew open beside you. It revealed a grand mansion in front of you and it earned a gasp from you.

You see a man walking by the entrance of the huge manor. His tall stature demanded attention and you automatically assumed he was the owner. With that classy tuxedo and refined posture, you knew nothing about him was cheap.

He suddenly turned around and your eyes widened at that. As if his money wasn't enough to make him intimidating, he had a perfect face. It may have a permanent scowl but you couldn't deny his face was truly perfect. Tanned complexion, defined jaw, plump lips and thick eyebrows. He was definitely handsome.

"Who are you to look at me straight in the eye?" His voice was deep and authoritative and loud enough to snap you out of your thoughts, it surprised you. His scowl even grew which made you bow your head and quickly apologize. "I'm sorry." You mumbled, the fear of death immediately taking over your senses. 

"Be nicer." Another voice interrupted that made you look up. A man with a child on his arm went out of the house, standing by the door. He wore a similar suit to the man who was scowling. Another handsome man, you thought. He looked older but no less handsome. He also looked friendlier as a little girl bounced in his arms.

This man was definitely kinder, you could safely assume. His eyes were soft despite his features being sharp and his thin lips had a pressed smile.

The scowling man passed by him and went inside the huge house. You could only look at his leaving back, hoping you didn't piss him enough to get yourself killed. You couldn't possibly die the first day you're here.

"Hey, get inside. I'm sorry for that. My brother's just wired that way." He offered a smile as the little girl in his arms looked at him adoringly. You nodded at what he said, trying to take in the information. His kind smile was nothing compared to the previous man’s scowl. Their air was too different. "Let her inside, Baek. We’ll be at the study." He nodded at the driver before going back inside his room.

The driver who was named Baek started carrying my bags. "No, it's okay." You try to take it away from him but he insists. He carried your luggage inside the house to the large living room. 

The house was so large, it was nothing compared to your home before. Marble walls made everything stand out in elegance as the paintings that graced it made it warmer to the eyes. The furniture was obviously expensive despite its basic structures. The grand staircase that led to another floor also made it seem like it’s a palace.

Baek snapped you out of your awe by entering with your bags. He set it down by a sofa. "I'm Baekhyun and I'm the errand boy here." He gave you a toothy grin which made you smile back at him. "It's hard to find a friend here but I assure you, I can be your friend." You nodded like a seal at what he said. You knew you needed help and an offer like this isn't something you can pass up.

"I'll find time to talk to you and all but the bosses need you at the study right now. They'll decide whether what to use you for." You look at him in confusion. He immediately gets the message and tries to clear up the confusion. "Your family is in a debt and now, this family owns you. The Kims. You have to be of use to them. We’re considered as slaves here but it doesn’t really sound that bad. It’s just working without pay but with absolute loyalty." You were surprised at what he said. How could he know? You didn't tell him anything. Also, the fact that you were called slaves sounded wrong to you. It seemed inhumane despite what Baek tried to explain.

He looked at me as if he was sorry. “It’s okay. I know cause it happened to me and all the others too. I will explain soon since I’m always the one hanging around here but right now, you have to go to the study. They will decide how to use you before they let you settle in. Now, go, okay? You don’t want to anger the youngest Kim.” He was talking while he dragged you at the end of the first floor’s hall. The information was too much to take in and before you knew it, you had to face your new bosses now. Or owners. You have no idea how to refer to them.

Baek turns the doorknob swiftly as he stands straighter than he did when you two were alone. He looks back at you once last time and assures you with a look as he entered the quiet room. "Young masters, the new girl is about to get in." You hear someone say to bring you in and Baek immediately ushers you inside.

The room they called study was large and carpeted. It was filled with books and tables. The air inside was also warmer than it was in the hallways. 

Baekhyun pointed to the center and I immediately got the signal. Baek left as you finally got to where he wanted you to stand. You stood there, in front of four men in suits. Their eyes were examining every inch of you and it made your skin crawl. The black dress you were still wearing for your mother's funeral wasn't exactly pretty. The thought of showing your makeup-less and swollen face to four dashing men who were supposed to be your new bosses didn't make it any better.

"Jun-hyung, what do you think?" The guy with a baby girl earlier spoke up first and asked a man in an all-black suit. You wanted to keep your eyes on the floor but they were too handsome to peel your sight off them.

This man called Jun looked angelic yet his face was stoic. He had a gentle aura but something about him warned your gut that you should be extra careful around this man. Nonetheless, it amazed you how four extremely good-looking men could be in one room. You suddenly recall Baekhyun’s words and they were the Kims. Must be a family. Amazing genes, you couldn’t help but think

"She has no special talents mentioned in her file." You wince at that Jun guy's comment, quickly waking you up from the daydream you just had about these gorgous men. You realize you were just an average human which is basically why your stepfamily didn't want to keep you. You weren't talented, intelligent or creative. 

You were also surprised that you had a file already with them. But then, it was your stepfather we were talking about. He would go to hell and back just to get rid of you

"She's pretty. I want her. Can I keep her, Jun?" You looked up at the person who spoke. It was a man who gave a different vibe. He looked very playful with his exotic face features but something told you he was just as dangerous as the other two. The man with a baby in his arms didn’t really scare you as much as the scowling man did. The other similarity he had with the rest was the expensive suit he was wearing.

He takes a good look at you before speaking. "Jun, I want her. You know we need a new plaything." He spoke with finality, smiling at you. You didn't know what he meant and your puzzled face gave off what you were thinking. "He wants to fuck you, dummy." The scowling man glared at you with so much intensity as he solved the confusion in your head.

Fuck me? Plaything? These words resonated in your head. You didn't know how to react. How was somebody supposed to react to someone wanting to fuck them?

"We don't do that anymore, Minseok-hyung." The Jun guy sighed, his eyes filled with pity as he stared at you. He really does look angelic, you thought. You snapped out of it again and bit your lip as you put your head down, not knowing what to say.

"We can if we get her consent." The guy with exotic features who seems to be named Minseok shrugged. He looks at you with so much determination once again. "Hey, what's your name, again?" He speaks again and you widen your eyes at his question.

"U-Um.. Y/N." You stuttered with so much fear. You really didn't want to die at all. You know you had to do whatever they wanted just to stay alive. Living was so meaningless like this but you didn't want your mother to be disappointed in you for just giving up. If these men returned you home, your stepfather would kill you. 

"So, Y/N, is it okay if we have sex with you from time to time? We really need the stress reliever." This Minseok guy smirked again. His directness shocked you to the core. You had to say yes, right? If you didn't, they'd kill you? Or torture you? Or return you home? None sounds appealing to you.

You really have no choice...

"I-I'd like t-to be of help to you with a-anything." You fiddled with your fingers as you said this. You were nervous as hell and hearing the scowling man's chuckle made it worse. 

"See, she's okay with this, Jun!" Minseok exclaimed with a huge grin on his face, eyeing you up and down. He patted Jun’s back and smirked at the scowling man. You weren't really opposed to what they wanted. They were handsome and you wanted to be alive, nothing more or less. You weren’t usually this shallow and easy but your eomma’s words keep ringing in your ears. You had to be alive.

"I guess it's settled then." The man with a baby girl earlier gave you an apologetic smile and stood up. You were about to walk out but the Jun guy spoke once again. "Tell Baekhyun to show you the available room on the fifth floor." He nodded at you. You were about to walk again but then something interrupted.

You heard the scowling man beside him laugh, stopping your tracks again. "Jun, you're really treating your whores right." He smirked and looked at you as if he was belittling you. You shuddered under his sight. He was truly intimidating, he had a different air to the other men. He was blunt and he never hesitated.

"You should leave now. Never mind his foul mouth." The guy with a baby waved off to you. Once again, this man has made your arrival here warmer. You nodded at them with finality and got out of the room as you heard Jun scold the other guys. “Jongdae, thank you for being nice today but treat slaves as they should be treated. Jongin, stop being mean. You’re being irrational.” He authoritatively announced to the two boys, making you assume he was the leader or something.

You close the door behind you with a final thud. You see Baekhyun leaning at the wall beside the study. He immediately went up to you.

"So, how did it go?" You didn't really know how to answer this question. How would you explain to someone that you agreed to fucking people? 

"U-Uh.. That guy named Jun told me to tell you to show me the room on the fifth floor?" You said with so much uncertainty, chewing on your bottom lip. His eyes were as large as saucers and his jaw dropped the moment you say this aloud. He couldn’t believe himself either.

Baekhyun shook his head in disbelief and tried to be as calm as he could. "What the hell did you agree to?! They never let slaves like us in the fifth floor! What more live there?" He asked in a hushed yet raised tone. He briskly dragged me to an elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"Well, the Minseok guy asked me if I could help them sexually? I guess?" What you just said earned a loud gasp from Baekhyun. Your cheeks heated at the mention of this. "Holy shit..." You heard him mutter a curse and honestly, you couldn't help but agree. Non-survival you would never agree to anything like this but this is the new you. You had to survive. For your mother’s wishes and for your own good too. This time, Baekhyun looks at you with so much amusement.

"You're in for a fucking ride."

[queenrose730]

Reckless

Part One

Master List

Natasha and Steve were talking as you walked up. Deciding not to interrupt you walk to Sam.

 “Hey y/n”

 “Hey sam. So what’s next for you?” You placed your hands in your pockets leaning against the tree next to him. Your eyes were focused on the pair in front of you. He let out a sigh. Turning to face the same as you. Nat was handing Steve a file.

 “Probably whatever is in that file.” You hadn’t known Sam long but he helped Steve and Nat. That was more than enough for you to trust him too.

 “Can’t wait.” A smirk coming to your face as you pushed off from the tree. “Later Nat! don’t be a stranger.” You called after her.

 “Same to you, Y/n.” She waved and was off.  Both Sam and you walked up to Steve who opened the file. There on the front page was the Winter Solider.

 “You both don’t have to do this.” His eye followed the page down to a small black and white picture of the man before he was the Solider.

 “Shut up Steve.” You rolled your eyes, taking the file from him. “I told you id follow you wherever no matter what.” His faced turned to you with a hesitant smile.

 Sam looked back down at the file. “When do we start?”

 ~

 I’ll follow you wherever.

 Now that meant sitting on the back of run down bug, uncomfortably close to the man you had been trying to track for two years.

 You knew Steve would call you the moment you saw the new that the UN was bombed and the Winter Solider was suspect number one. It honestly had taken longer than you thought for that call to come in. You already had a bag packed and were pacing by the phone.

 “Yn I need your help.” Steve already sounded exhausted.

 “Sure as shit do Steve. What the hell is going on? Why all the sudden is the Soldier bombing the UN?”

 “Bucky did not bomb the UN.” He emphasized Bucky hard. You knew he hate when you called him that.

 “Fine.” You huffed. “If it wasn’t Barnes then who was it?”

 “I’m not sure yet. Just get to Germany.”

 “On my way. Don’t do anything to stupid or reckless until I get there.”

 “Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart. That’s your job.” He hung up and set coordinates to your phone.

   “Can you move your seat up? “

 “No. “

 “Ah so he does speak!” Barnes hadn’t said anything to you since you showed up in the warehouse in the same bug you were now stuffed into. Sam let out a chuckle at your comment but Barnes just kept his eye focused on Steve and Sharon. Their conversation was ending when you saw them kiss.

 “When the hell did that happen Sam?” You slapped him across the shoulder. “And why didn’t you tell me!”

 “Damn girl.” He was rubbing the front of his shoulder where you hit him. “As far as I know that’s the first time.” Steve was walking back the car and placed his and Sam’s gear in the trunk.

 “I got to make one more call before we leave.” He said dipping down to get in the car.

 “So what was that all about Steve?” You couldn’t hide the teasing grin on your face.

 “Yn.” He warned.

 You through your hands up in defense. “Alright alright. “

 Steve drove to an empty warehouse not far from the airport.

 “We will set up here for the night.” All the men got out of the car and busied themselves with setting up a makeshift table and some sleeping areas.

 “I’ll go scrounge up some food for us. I’m sure y’all are hungry.” You picked up a baseball cap that was laying in the trunk. Putting it on then pulling your hood up.

 “Is that a good idea?”

 “Nobody knows I’m even here Steve. As far as their concerned I’m still in Poland. So no eyes are looking for me. I can’t have you two, at least, running on empty.” You pointed between Sam and Steve. “And I guess you too Barnes.”

 “Yn, just don’t – “

 “Do anything stupid or reckless.” You cut him off. “Yea yea. I know.” You dipped out of the building before anyone could protest further. gently check that you gun was secure under your coat before heading down the road.

 All the boys were happy that you managed to bring back Chinese food. You were sure that they thought you would be just coming back with gas station garbage. Steve had gone over the plan with everyone before you found a quiet corner to sit and clean what weapons you had with you. He assured you that more were coming. You hadn’t expected to need this much fire power, two guns and a couple knives weren’t going to cut it against Tony or whatever or whoever was waiting in Siberia. You were also acutely aware that Barnes was staring at you.

 “Can I help you with something sir stares a lot?” You didn’t look up from the gun.

 “Umm n-no. Just watching you.”

 You sighed setting the gun down to meet his eyes. “Obviously. But why?”

 Barnes looked down at his hands then back to you. “You were the one tacking me down weren’t you? “

 “I was. “

 “Your good.” He gave you a quick smile.

 “Clearly not good enough. Lost your trail in Poland and was stuck there for the last nine months.” He grimaced when you mentioned Poland. “Exactly my point. So where did you run off to? The most I figured you were still somewhere in Central Europe?”

 “Romania.” He had almost a proud smile on his face

 “You sneaky fuck. Not many people can slip past me. Good job.”

 He dropped his head again. “So why are you here? Why were you tracking me for Steve? “

 “Because,” you started packing your weapons away. “I promised that dumb sack of muscle that I’d follow him no matter what.”  You adjusted you coat and got comfortable as you could against the wall. “So now here I am in some shit hole in Germany.” You shrugged and closed your eyes. “Now I’m going to try and get some rest.” You peaked at him with one eye. “You just keep on doing whatever that it.” You waved him off and tucked your arms around yourself.

 Something bumped your foot. Before you could even think instincts took over. your right hand grabbed the gun at your side and pointed. Your eyes finally caught up only to see Sam with his hands up and a surprised look on his face.

 “Told you to be careful waking her up.” Steve was laughing from somewhere behind Sam.

 “Then why did you do it?” Sam’s eyes were still on the gun pointed at him. All Steve could do was laugh.

Your brain finally catches up and lowers the gun.

 “Sorry Sam. I get a little jumpy on the job.” You reached your hand out to him so he could help you up.

 “No shit.” As he pulled you to your feet, you holstered you gun. “We are getting ready to leave.”

 “Right. I’m going to do a perimeter check before we go. No since in getting caught before we even start.” You grab the baseball hat you wore the night before and pulled your gun back from the holster.

 “Yn….” You cut Steve off with your hand.

 “Don’t start.” He went to say something back to you but you just glared at him. Daring him to test you. When he didn’t you walked to the door and placed your gun in the pocket of your coat with your hand still on it.

 “You can’t be serious Steve.” Sam stepped forward. Steve didn’t move but you turned back to face Sam. Giving him the same look you just have Steve.

 “Fine.” He huffed out raising his hands. You nodded your head to were Barnes was standing.

 “Anything from the peanut gallery there Barnes? “

 “No ma’am “

 “Good.” You turn back to the door and left.

 You were only gone fifteen minutes. You wanted to make a good perimeter and check the way to the interstate. Everything looked fine. Light traffic on the surface streets and the interstate was packed. A good and easy way to blend it.

 “We should be good at least to the interstate.” You let the door shut behind you as you walk to the three men standing around the car.

 “You walked all the way to the interstate?” Barnes seem surprised

 “No dummy. Just far enough to get a look at traffic. It’s busy so we should be able to blend in with out issue.” You turned to Steve who nodded his head.

 “Then let’s go.”

 Barnes was the first in the car. Sam shoved the seat back a little too hard and you heard Barnes mumble something under his breath. You paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. There was no going back. Steve walked up behind you and placed a hand on the small of you back.

 “Everything ok sweetheart?” You nodded and let out your breath.

 “A lot of shit is going to change today Steve. “

 “You can still leave yn.” You scoffed.

  “And let you three have all the fun. I think not Rogers!” You patted the roof of the car and slid in next to Barnes.

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Meant To Be [part 1]

A/n: missed last week buT NOT THIS TIME WRITERS BLOCK😤 written for @autumnleaves1991-blog writer wednesday

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Finn (modern au)

Warnings: swearing, pining, BB8 is a snarky 4 yr old, cuteness, some thirty thots, I don’t know how toddlers speak forgive me, barely proofread, age gap (Finn is 25 and Poe is 34)

Word count: 1.4K

—-

Poe was so tired. He could feel the sweat rolling down the back of his neck, the sun beating down on him mercilessly as he slammed the trunk of his car close a tad harder than necessary. A tiny head peaked out from the passenger seat at the noise. Poe grimaced.

He was really looking forward to handing over Beebee to Han and Leia for the evening and get some much needed rest. But now he was practically stranded in the middle of a desert, sand as far as his eyes could see and a flat tire, puncture kit nowhere to be found.

Dragging his feet back to the front, he dropped heavily onto the driver's seat, huffing in frustration. The radio was playing a pop song he may have heard sometime in passing, but hey, at least the air conditioning was unaffected and they had more than enough snacks packed for the trip. The last thing he needed was a hangry kid crying from the punishing heat.

Said toddler turned to look at him and he snorted at her serious expression and his aviators looking comically large on her small face. Beebee smiled back. "Now are you going to call grampa Han?" she asked.

"Looks like I don't have a choice," he sighed, prompting a round of giggles from Bee.

"He's going to be mad,"

"Little lady, do you think it's funny when your dad gets yelled at by that old man?"

"I'm gonna tell him you called him old man," she giggled again.

"No you won't,"

"Yes, I will," she told him with conviction.

"Snitches get stitches," Poe lurched forward tickling her sides making her squeal with laughter.

"I'm gonna tell him!"

---

"You always get the same thing! Try something new," Rey groaned.

Finn smiled pleasantly at her irritation, cheerfully replying, "Nope," as Rey parked her ancient looking pick-up truck outside the ice-cream parlour. "And if you get me anything but butterscotch I'll steal your keys," he threatened.

"And then what? Walk home by yourself?" Rey laughed, slipping out before Finn could issue more stupid threats. He pouted in his seat, watching his roommate happily skip into the shop.

Fridays were Finn's favourite. Classes end early and it was his off day too. More often then not Han lets Rey off earlier at the shop so he gets to spend more time with her as well. It was just perfect.

The phone on the dashboard starts to vibrate not a minute later. Finn recognized the caller ID and picked it up. "Hello, Solo,"

"Rey not there?" came the gruff reply.

"Nice to hear from you too, I've been good, how about you?" He asked cheerfully. Maybe the fact that he wasn’t face to face with Han Solo made him a little more bold than usual. Rey swears he is a teddy bear under all that grumpy personality but Finn was yet to be convinced.

"Not in the mood, big deal," the old man huffed on other side.

"I can take a message," Finn folded. Best not to push him too far.

“My idiot godson got himself stranded out in the desert without a puncture kit. I need Rey to go help him out,”

“Aye aye, captain,”

---

Bee was adorably dancing along to the Peppa pig theme song on her god-knows-how-many episode on the iPad propped up against her knees. Exhaustion was pulling at Poe’s eyelids as he fought to keep them open.

It had been almost an hour since he made that absolutely not fun at all call to Han, who spent fifteen whole minutes lecturing him on the importance of being prepared, especially with a toddler dependent on him. Thankfully Leia had interrupted with an excuse of wanting to talk to Beebee.

Then they had waited and waited. He had already gotten out of the car to stretch his legs about three times, not more than a few minutes at a time, too scared he would melt right into the ground from the heat. One particularly long blink of his eyes later, he noticed a battered looking pickup truck approaching and thought dear lord let them be my savior.

The truck parked on the opposite side of the road and a young woman in a tank top and grease stained jeans hopped out. Must be the one Han called Rey. Poe dropped a kiss on Bee’s forehead, asking to her to stay inside. He pushed the door open and— very nearly tumbled to the ground in his gay panic.

Another person stepped out of the truck, a man maybe a few inches taller than the woman. And goddamn, he was fine. The black band tee stretched just so around his chest and Christ, those biceps.

“You must be Han’s godson,” Rey’s voice snapped him out of his gawking. God, he must have been so obvious. For all he knew, the guy could’ve been Rey’s boyfriend.

Poe slapped on a polite smile before offering his hand. “Poe Dameron. Nice to meet you,”

“I’m Beatrice Dameron, but everyone calls me Beebee,” said a voice in an adorable toddler drawl. When the hell did she get out of the car? Was he really that distracted? “Nice to meet you,” Bee offered her hand mirroring him.

Rey crouched down to take her hand. “That’s a nice name. I’m Rey,”

“I asked you to stay in the car,” Poe hissed after Rey went to get the spare tire.

“I didn’t say yes,” Beebee answered before skipping away after Rey. Are four year olds even supposed to be that sassy? An amused chuckle drew his attention back to the handsome stranger.

“Cute kid,” his smile rivaled sunshine— shut up, inner-monologue.

“You’d think that, but before you know it she would have you wrapped around her little finger and you can’t say no to her,” The handsome stranger laughed again and something fluttered in Poe’s chest at the sound.

“I’m Finn, Rey’s roommate,” Oh goodie, not boyfriend then. “You new to town?” Finn asked. God, even his name was perfect.

“Technically, yeah. But it’s fortunate I got transferred somewhere with people I know, ya know,”

“What do you do?”

“Flight instructor at the airbase,” Poe shrugged nonchalantly. It was a brag, he knew it and judging by the arch of Finn’s eyebrows, he thought it was impressive too. “What about you?”

Before he could hear Finn’s answer, Beebee came barreling into Poe, screaming, “I’m gonna be a mechanic when I grown up!”

“That’s great, honey,” Poe lifted up his kid into his arms. Rey walked up behind her.

“You’re all set,” Poe looked at her on surprise. That was fast. After thanking the her for the help, Rey and Finn departed. He sighed forlornly. If only he still had game or time to date.

“You ready to leave now?” Bee nodded her head vigorously. There’s only so much desert one can tolerate.

—-

Han failed to mention his idiot godson was hot. Quite honestly, ‘hot’ wasn’t even doing justice to the head full of dark, gravity-defying curls either. Finn groaned out loud, tipping his head back into the head rest.

“He’s a pilot, Rey,” Rey straight up laughed at his pathetic whining. But Finn paid her no mind as usual. “Do you think he has those uniforms Air Force officers wear? I bet he looks so sexy in them,”

“I don’t know, you could just ask him,” Rey stated.

“Hell no! He has a kid, what if he’s straight? Or worse, what if he’s married?”

“Don’t say you didn’t see him checking you out! Besides, he wasn’t wearing a ring,” Finn briefly wondered when Rey got so observant.

“He wasn’t checking me out!” Finn spluttered.

“Oh ho ho, yes he was,” Rey exclaimed. “Very nearly drooled, too,”

“It doesn’t matter,” he deflated, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m probably not gonna see him again after this anyways,” he lamented.

“He’s Han and Leia’s godson, of course you’re gonna see him again,” as if on queue, Rey’s phone dinged again. “See who texted?” Finn skimmed through the message Han sent and groaned again. “What?”

“Han invited us to dinner, apparently Poe’s gonna be there too,” Finn swore Rey’s answering cackle could be heard for miles.

—-

[waywardimpalawriter]

Man out of time (Marcus Moreno x Female Reader)

Man out of time

Pairing:  Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Moreno, Missy Moreno, Anita Moreno, mentions of Miracle Guy,  

Setting: few months after the end of We can be heroes 

Rating: PG-13 for now

Warnings: few curse words, angst mostly,

 Word count: 1,610

Summary: Simple, two syllable word Dictionary.com say’s it means easy to understand, deal with, use, etc. Marcus Moreno curses its existence, wishing his katana’s could cut through with a neat slice and bring back what he’s lost.   

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday held by the marvelous @autumnleaves1991-blog​. I’ll admit I battled with this one for a good while and with the help of @icanbeyourjedi​ decided this would be my first Marcus Moreno fic. I do hope you all enjoy and as always much love to all my doves. 

“You promised remember?” Stubborn set to her small statue, arms across with a deep glare in those normally sweet brown eyes. “What happened to that promise dad?”

Looking to his mom for help but coming up empty as she just lifts her hands and shrugs with a small roll of her eyes before turning away to head back towards the kitchen. “Thanks mom,” slight sarcastic twist to the tone. Hand resting on popped out hip studying his daughter while searching for the right words to explain. “True it’s no emergency like two months ago Missy but the mission is simple enough I’ll be back home before the weekend.”

“Take me with you then,” brow lifting in challenge remind Marcus so much of her mother the memory picking his heart.

Pushing those thoughts aside, “I can’t you have school and training,” seeing her fixing to protest he holds up a hand to stall the flow of words. “Besides it’s too dangerous, this isn’t a typical mission the Heroics would go on.”

“So they push it on you, why?” Voice rising slightly with worry and a dash of fear for her father’s safety.

Running a hand through his hair tugging the dark strands lightly in frustration. “Things are…” always searching for the right words to explain, without giving too much away and keeping Missy in the dark to protect her. “Complicated Missy I have to lead by example you know that sweetheart. Please trust me when I say this isn’t something I want to do.”

“Then why…”

Sighing Marcus steps towards his daughter crouching down so their eye level, “Because I’m the only one qualified to take the mission.” Resting a fingerless gloved hand on her slim shoulder, “Simple in and out, take out the bad guy done,” offering her, his patented half smile. “Besides you’ve got your friends now and training you’ll never notice I’m gone.”

Expressive chocolate eyes roll but the smirk is all Moreno when they lock back with her father’s. Flinging herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and hugging the life’s breath from his lungs. “You’re wrong dad I’ll miss you,” trying to keep the trembling from her voice. Tears pricking the back of her eyes, nose rubbing along the leather jacket he’s wearing. “Four day’s right? No longer?”

“No longer just four days sweetheart,” pulling back to smile at his daughter catching the fear in her glassy eyes. “I promise to be safe.”

“And come home right?” She adds still clinging to her father’s shoulders. Memories of watching the alien’s wrap their mechanical arms around and pull him into the ship still very fresh in her mind. Never wanting a repeat performance of those horrible three hours.

Nodding, “Yes ma’am and I expect you to mind your abuela, do your homework and train.” Ticking off each one while giving her a smile.

“Always dad,” eyes rolling again as she lets him go, standing to his full height now. “When do you leave?”

Smiling slipping to a frown, “Once I’m packed. Intel came in this afternoon and I’ve been briefed.”

“Ah so that’s why your wear this ridiculous get up and rode in on that obnoxious two wheeled death machine,” putting her own words into the conversation, Anita Moreno rejoined her son and granddaughter leaning heavily on her cain. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me Marcus Moreno you aren’t too old for me to whip,” banishing her walking stick towards him affectionately.

“Mom,” wanting too but doesn’t roll his eyes at her words, heart warmed by the undercurrent of worry he picks up despite her admonishment. Knowing much like Missy, she worried about his well being and the dangers lurking around each corner for the leader of the Heroics. “Neither of you need to worry, it’s a simple mission nothing I haven’t faced before.”

Boy had he been wrong about those last few words, cursing that two syllable word with every fiber in his being while trying to adjust to these strange surroundings. Floating car honking, racing pass Marcus standing stock still in the middles of what didn’t appear be to a street.

“Hey asshole move before you get flown over,” half hanging out the window with a middle finger salute aimed his way.

Itching to use his powers on the punk Marcus shakes his head stepping back and almost tripping over the cement curb.  Mesmerized by the sheer sights surrounding him. Blinking several times thinking he’s seeing things or at the very least Miracle Guy is playing some seriously messed up trick on him.

“Lost?” Soft feminine voice questions from behind him.

Turning slowly, weary of who’s standing at his back, “You could say that.”

“Marcus Moreno?” Gasp issues from her parted lips eyes shocked wide almost like seeing a ghost. “But… but your…”

Frowning unsure of this woman with how she’s acting at seeing him. “I’m what?”

“Dead…” her words echo around him like a thick fog.

Head shaking, reaching into his jeans pocket to pull the cell phone out cursing upon finding it’s out of juice. “The rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” Trying to make light even as a stone starts to sink in his stomach. “Miracle Guy put you up to this? Has to be some kind of simulation testing me right?”

“No… no it’s,” bitting her lip, she takes a step forward pulling a thin clear plastic looking object from her pocket. “What year is it?”

“Why?” Looking between her face and the light up piece of tech in her hand, Marcus takes a step back. Only to be honked at by another flying car. “Tech guys stepped up their game this time around.”

“Because,” swallowing harshly, “your not in Kansas anymore Toto.” Trying and failing to give a half smile. Only to have it fall with he scowl Marcus sends her. “Answer the question first then I’ll explain.”

Sighing, running a shaky hand through his hair, dread filling his veins, “2021, March if I remember.”

“I”m sorry Dorothy but you’re wrong,” glancing down eyes focused on the thin piece of plastic in her grasp. Pulling up the calendar to show him the date. “It’s March 14, 2041 and you good sir have come back from the dead.”

Gapping like a fish out of water, Marcus can’t seem to string two words together till a bubble of laughter leaves his chest. Morphing into chuckles and finally a great big belly laugh which has him doubling over holding his stomach and slapping his knee. “It’s a joke right? Miracle Guy, Tech-No he’d be able to pull something like this off.”

Glancing up at her, seeing the weariness even a touch of fear painted in those deep eyes. Turning her phone back around to pull up the news report. Male voice echoing around the two of them only slightly drowned out by the busy city still churning.

“The search has been called off for Heroic’s leader Marcus Moreno as it entered the third week with no sign. Our hearts go out to the Moreno family hit by this tragedy. Leaving so many to wonder what exactly happened and how did his last mission go so wrong.”

Shaking his head, eyes blinking several times to clear the imagines of Missy and Anita crying in each others arms. Surrounded by the children of the Heroics and the hero’s themselves, each taking the news differently. Vision filled with Missy’s red rimmed, tear streaked face breaking his heart, legs giving out from under him and crumbing to his knees.

“I don’t… I just left… it’s been two hours,” words stuttering from his mouth trying to grasp exactly what happened.

Debating with herself whether to step forward for comfort or turn to leave. The former winning as she drops beside him, returning the phone to its pocket and carefully gathering this broken semi stranger into her arms. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t the intension we had. There’s,” swallowing hard when she feels him stiffen beside her. “A plan, we had a plan but it’s changed and now you’re stuck.”

Wide with anger and shock, Marcus’s deep chocolate eyes raise to look at her. “You did this?”

Gulping for air and words, “Not me solely no, I apologize truly this wasn’t… I mean,” fidgeting under the intense stare, bottom lip caught by her tongue and drug between pearly whites. “I’m sorry Marcus so sorry,” short sob leaving a dry throat.

“Sorry for what? For taking me away from my life, from my time period or from the little girl who needs her father? Because as I see it right now this is all manner of fucked up and your gonna do something about it. Fix this shit so I can get back to my daughter.” Seething with rage Marcus stands to his full impressive height. Reaching behind to pull both katana’s from there sheathes.

Staying on her knees head bowed, “I can’t that’s the trouble Marcus.” Looking up into his pain streaked furious chocolate eyes, flinching at the sneer that contorts his beloved features. “I’m mysorry darling truly,” words whispered and barely meeting his ears as she vanishes into the thin air.

Speechless, arms hanging at his sides, stuck by the realization of her words, the video, combine with the knowledge he’s lost twenty some years with Missy watching her grow-up. Emotions swirl like a thick fog in his mind consuming thoughts and making reactions none existence to the world around him. A world that’s left him behind, while he’s stuck in the past and facing an uncertain future as a man out of time.

[schnitzelbutterfingers]

the forgotten one- chapter 1

A/N: hiya there! chapter 1 is here!! i finally had some time to write chapter 1. it’s... angsty, as many of you all have guessed. we’ll see how abby is holding on and ethan’s reaction to what happened. a couple of things:

in this chapter, dr. sebastian ‘seb’ chacko (abby’s brother) and their mother jazmin chacko will make their debut! sebastian skipped two grades and is now the most famous and wealthiest neurosurgeon in the country. seb is 30 years old and is experienced in neurosurgery for 6 years. he is the only best friend of ethan ramsey.

seb and abby are both half-indians and half-mexicans. their mother is mexican and their father is indian. even though their father Abraham is spiteful and malicious , they still like being an indian and jazmin took the time to learn hindi (the official language of india) and malayalam (a south indian language and the one i speak). i am NOT a mexican, but i am an indian. there will be terms a couple of indian terms, so at the bottom, i will add a glossary of words, which will be bolded and will have asterisks (*).

and remember, abby is a 22 year-old second year resident and ethan ramsey is 30 years old with 9 years of experience in medicine.

forgive me if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes. lmk what you think! enjoy!

pairing(s): dr. ethan ramsey x mc (dr. abby chacko)

warning(s): angst angst angst I’M SORRY

word count: 2535

catch up here: prologue

_______________________________________________________________

Ethan’s POV

Dr. Abigail Chacko. Abigail Chacko. Abby Chacko. Abby. Rookie.

She is all Ethan could think about while he is driving. 

It’s Friday night. Cars are honking. People are laughing. Lights are flickering. The world is spinning. Yet every fiber of his being is thinking about the one woman that managed to flip his world upside-down. The one woman who broke down all his walls. The one woman who challenges him every day and every night. The woman who he can say is his girlfriend... kind of.

Abby came into his life like a wrecking ball, pushing past every limit even he didn’t know.  When he went to the Amazon for two months, every part of him wanted to call her, ask her how she is doing, whether she received any PITAs, wanting to let her know that he still cared about her. 

Seb was mad, mad, when he found out what Ethan did to her little sister. The Chacko let him know what Abby was feeling then: emotional, depressed, crying, not even smiling. He even said that the little sister he knew and loved changed so much, he couldn’t even recognize her anymore. Hearing that made Ethan’s heart break more and more. He was the reason she was feeling emotional. He was the reason she was depressed. He was the reason she was crying day and night. He was the reason she wasn’t smiling.

But Seb was understanding. He knew about his trust issues. He knew about his family life. He knew about his childhood. And he knew that Ethan thought going to the Amazon, staying 3228 miles away from her, not calling her, was for her own benefit. Seb told him that he forgave him, because he knows that Ethan cares.

Even after coming back to the Amazon, he still had feelings for her. She occupied his mind every second of the day. What was thought to be effortless and trouble-free was challenging and strenuous. After a while, he surrendered and let himself accept her. From the dinner with the governor and the trip to the art gallery to the kiss outside of his apartment and the Mass Kenmore heist, he quit bearing his bottled up feelings for her. 

The Senator assassination attempt was the last straw. Seeing Abby, his Abby, so frail and feeble, her skin so pale, still delivered him those haunting memories from nightmares he would see. Every time he sees Abby, even after that incident, he never wanted to let her go, afraid that something terribly wrong would happen to her. 

He then realized he was the idiotic one, pushing he away a lot. He told her about his feelings for her, and Abby was more than enthusiastic to let him in. They did it in the car and in the ski resort, and he was never more joyful and ecstatic than before. Their relationship is getting more determined than ever.  

He desperately wanted to give her a ride, but couldn’t because her shift hadn’t ended yet. And something still bothers him that it was a terrible idea, but he decided to let those thoughts pass, afraid of being negative.

But love? Do I love Abigail? Ethan thinks to himself. The truth is... he doesn’t know. He never knew love was possible until he met her, the whirlwind. It may take him a little more time to answer that question.

Instantly, he hears his phone ringing, disturbing him from his musing. It’s Naveen, his mentor and old friend.

The attending answers the call. “Hello? Naveen? Is everything alright?”

In return, he hears an audible sigh. “No, son, nothing is alright. And it might stay that way for a while.”

Ethan starts becoming worrisome. Did anything happen to Naveen. Did he get an update on the hospital? Is this the end of Edenbrook? “Naveen? Are you talking about the hospital?” Ethan asks carefully. 

“Where are you now?”

“I’m driving home. Why?”

“... You might want to park the car somewhere if I need to tell you this.”

“...Why?

“Just listen to your mentor, son. Park your car.”

Ethan does as he is advised, wondering where this is going. “Naveen, you’re killing me. What is happening?”

Naveen paused for a long time. “When I tell you this, promise me you will not overrea-”

“Just spit it out, old man.”

Naveen sighs again, this time penetrated with grief and concern. “...It’s.. it’s Abby. She was stabbed-”

And that’s when Ethan cut the call, his mind racing, his heart thumping, driving recklessly back to the hospital.

________________________________________________________________

Seb’s POV

Chicago. Chi-town. Attractive city. The buildings. The lights. The horizon.

Him and Ethan were lucky to get huge penthouses overlooking their respective cities’ horizon. While Ethan doesn’t genuinely appreciate the view of Boston from his penthouse, the view of Chicago nonetheless manages to take his breath away.

Today was an exceptional day for Seb. He performed a successful decompressive craniectomy to a carpenter who was in a massive car crash. Seeing their family happy after he told them about the successful surgery made his heart leap.  A craniectomy cost a lot, so he made sure the carpenter’s family didn’t pay at all. 

That is Seb’s goal. To help everyone, even those who can’t afford treatment. That is Ethan’s goal. That is Abby’s goal. That is their goal. He’s fortunate to have Ethan as his best friend and Abby as his sister. He treasures them both.

Seb and Abby had a mierable childhood, living in Aurora, Illinois, but a different one from Ethan. The siblings both got abused by their father every single day, Abby being assaulted the most. The whips from the belt. The slaps from his hands. Being tied up and getting tortured. They still brought nightmares to Seb.  Abraham is a very wealthy and elite lawyer, “fighting for justice.” But whenever poor people trying to get justice and freedom come to his door, he knocks them out, only letting rich people enter. The comic part is that Seb, Abby, and Jazmin didn’t receive a single penny.

Jazmin would get injured a lot while trying to save them, but failed when his people seized her away, locking her up. Every morning Seb wakes Abby up for school, he would see bruises, scars, dried-up blood, and seeing them made Seb’s eye burn with tears. Since then, he promised himself he would free him, Abby, and thier mother, from that prison. Together they moved to Chicago, Illinois, but still receive threats from Abraham and his gang, saying they will come find them. 

Two weeks before was a nightmare for both Ethan and Seb. Their sister, Abby, was stuck in the Senator’s room, with gas they didn’t even know of. Seb and their mother, Jazmin, hastily packed their bags and booked their next flight to Boston, with Jazmin crying all the way, wondering if they’ll ever see their daughter again. Edenbrook and Mass Kenmore together found a cure, and he always wondered if, after that, Ethan Ramsey and Tobias Carrick ever reestablished their friendship. 

Abby told them they didn’t need to be here and that she will be fine, but they still stayed there a week. Eventually, she kicked them both out, but not without a lovely smile, saying she will see them later when she’ll come to Chicago. 

Seb was filled with joy and literally screamed at the phone when he found out that Ethan and Abby are in a relationship. He was kind of melancholy that they kept it secret, but was still filled with content that Ethan finally, finally, gave up the fight. When Jazmin found out, she made gulab jamun* with him to celebrate. They were both cheerful  Abby had finally found someone. Ultimately, Jazmin told Seb that he needs to find a woman, too, which he knew was going to happen.

Seb is staring out the window, thinking about how they all got into the positions they are now. The lights are flickering in his eyes, but he pays no attention to them, but to the sun setting on the horizon, like the glow of a burning fire. He is paying attention to the deep orange and the small tinge of purple streaked across the sky when he hears a sudden crash in the kitchen. When he looks behind, he sees a woman with wrinkles, flour all over her clothes.

Oh, Mother, Seb thinks with a grin. He tried not to laugh, but lost with a small chuckle. 

“Oh, stop making fun of your Amma*! Has Abby called you yet? She usually calls early.” Jazmin replies, worried all of a sudden.

Seb sighs, shaking his head. “No not yet. Probably stuck on some kinda case. What are you trying to make today?”

“Classic Tres Leches Cake* My family special! Wanna help me?” Her eyes light up.

“Sure. You have the three milks, right?”

“Yep! Follow me!” And with that, she prods off to the kitchen.

Seb laughs again, following her, until he hears his phone ringing. He walks over to the couch where the phone is and checks the caller ID. It’s Ethan Ramsey.

“Amma, hold on for one sec. It’s Ethan. Probably because I forgot calling him today.”

“Sure, Mone*! Take your time!”

Seb picks up the call. “Hey, Ethan! Sorry I didn’t get to call you. I performed a successful-”

“Seb.”

He hears the voice of a woman. A sound that he can recognize really well. “Harper? What are you doing with Ethan’s phone?”

Harper’s voice is tense. "He didn’t want to call you. He didn’t know how to call you.”

What? What is she saying? Did I do something wrong? “Harper, what are you talking about?”

Harper heaves a sigh. “It’s Abby. She got stabbed by one of the patients here at Edenbrook.”

Time stands still as he processes her words. Suddenly the sunset, the view from his penthouse, didn’t matter anymore. My sister. Stabbed. By some jerk. She barely survived maitotoxin and now this. Tears burn in his eyes, but he forced to blink them away. Was that why she hadn’t called today?

“...How is she now?”

“She’s now in an emergency surgery. The stab wound affected her liver, and they’re trying to fix-” At that point Seb heard too much. He cuts the call.

When he turned around, he saw Jazmin with anxious eyes. “Is everything alright?”

Seb looks at his mother in the eye, tears obscuring his vision. “Amma...”

He spills everything out.

_______________________________________________________________

Ethan’s POV

Blood rushing. Heart hammering. Eyes reddening. Fear surrounding. 

The two emotions he can feel. Fear. Anger.

He wants, no, needs, to know who the hell stabbed his Rookie.

*Hours ago*

He walks into the hospital, each step with a thunderous clap, but at any moment, his legs could give away. Every one is looking at him with concern. He breezed through the hallways, eventually finding Naveen sitting on one of the waiting chairs. Naveen sights him and abruptly gets up.

“Ethan! I was trying to call you aga-”

“How is she?”

“Dr. Chacko was stabbed in the side, which affected her liver. They are performing an emergency surgery on her right now. Dr. Tanaka said to me that she will pull through.”

Ethan let go his sigh of relief, suddenly realizing that he was holding it for too long. He slumped down onto one of the waiting chairs, Naveen sitting next to him. “Are you alright, son?”

“Who hurt her? Who hurt Abby?”

Naveen exhales. “That’s what we don’t know. They said it’s a woman with grey hair, but she escaped from the hospital after stabbing Abigail. The security guards are checking the CCTV to figure out who it might be. And as for why, we don’t know. According to the patients in the ER, all Dr. Chacko did was ask the perpetrator why she was crying and the woman stabbed her. But don’t worry, my boy, they’ll figure it out.”

Rage fills through his blood as he hears Naveen’s words. She got stabbed. All because she was trying to assist a patient? If that ‘patient’ ever comes into his sight, he will break him or her. Break them. That’s all he wants to do. 

But he knows he can’t. He merely wants Abby to be alright. The surgery. 

At that moment, Harper enters the waiting room.

“Ethan? I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to call her brother and mother.”

Goodness. He forgot about that. His one and only best friend. How is he supposed to tell him that? Most of all, her mother. She was sobbing so hard when she found out that Abby was exposed to a deadly toxin. If he tells them that Abby was stabbed, how are they supposed to handle the news?

“Harper? Can you do me a favor and call them for me?” Ethan decides. “I don’t think I have the strength in me to call them.”

“Sure, Ethan. Whatever you need.” Harper says sympathetically.

Ethan hands her his phone and tells her his passcode. All the while Ethan wants to break down and mourn. He wants to punch the wall repeatedly until his knuckles bleed.

“Ethan?” he is knocked to the present by Naveen. Ethan abruptly stands up.

“Naveen, any word on Abby?” he asks worriedly.

Naveen flashes him a brilliant beam. “The surgery was successful. She’s sleeping now.” He pauses for a moment. “Also, Seb and his mother will be arriving in a few hours.”

“That’s great.” Suddenly, he remembers. “... Did you get any word on the perpetrator?”

The chief’s smile falls into a frown. “Ah, I was... hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”

Ethan eyes his mentor and friend suspiciously.”...Why?”

Naveen takes a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to hear this, Ethan? Because I don’t think you’ll be ready.”

“Just tell me who it is already, damn it!” Ethan glares.

“...It’s your mother, Ethan. Louise Ramsey. She was the perpetrator.”

The attending’s heart stops. Time stands still. All the motions pause as Ethan consumes this news in. His bowels turn to ice water. Fear overtakes him. Rage fills his blood. Emotions are piling up.

My mother? My mother?

“Naveen? Please just tell me that you didn’t say what I think you said.”

“I’m sorry, son.”

At this point, Ethan has heard enough and starts punching the wall, blood spilling from his knuckles, the wall breaking. It’s my fault. My god, it’s all my fault! I started believing in this woman again, only to be hurt again. This time, almost taking the woman I lo- 

“Ethan, STOP!!” Naveen’s voice cuts his thoughts off.

“I don’t care anymore. I’m gonna break that woman when I see her again.” Ethan’s growl is more than scary. It is haunting.

As Naveen tends to Ethan’s wounds, he can’t help but wonder:

How is he ever going to encounter Abby again?

________________________________________________________________

MYSTERY MAN’s POV

What Ethan doesn’t know is that a man is standing at the corner of the hallway, with a petrifying smile.

Yeah right, Ethan. Go ahead. Try to break Louise Ramsey. I dare you.

The thing is: you can’t. It’s alright to try. But you won’t succeed. Like she told Abby...

The game has just begun.

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

A/N (2): any guesses on who the mystery man is??

GLOSSARY

gulab jamun: an indian sweet which is sugary and sweet AND IS SO GOOD INDIANS CAN YOU RELATE

amma: an indian word which means ‘mother’ (i’ve only heard south indians (like me) using this word, but maybe north indians use this word??

classic tres leches cake: (had to do some research) a mexican cake made with three types of milk: evaporated milk, condensed milk, and heavy cream.

mone: means ‘son’ in south india.

tags: @missmiimiie​ @aylamwrites​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @udishaman​ @caseyvalentineramsey​ @queencarb​ @choicesstan1​ @newcolonies​ @arcticrivers​ @angela8756​ @takemyopenheart​ @rookie-ramsey​ @ohchoices @ohvamsey​ @ohramsey​ @natureblooms24​ @drariellevalentine​ @openheartfanfics

[67impalaandwhisky]

Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Show Level Violence, Fluff

Chapter 5.

"You better not let my insides turn to mush." You tell your best friends as they drive through the dark night towards the scene of the crime.

"We would never let you get hurt, ever. Don't be ridiculous." Dean mumbles as he lowers the music as it blasts throughout the car.

"I'm just saying." You whisper as you tug at your dress.

"Yeah well, don't 'just say' anything. And, stop pulling at your dress like that something is gonna pop out from one end or the other if you keep it up." He barks out.

Throwing his jacket over your legs, you let the scent of his cologne wash over you and you feel your nerves begin to calm down.

"You memorized what he looked like right?" Sam asks as you finger at the green fabric of his jacket.

"Yep. Got it all in here." You say tapping your temple with your index finger before looking out the window.

You watch the odd streetlight pass you by before eyeing the moon. You've always loved how, no matter how close you drive towards it it always seems farther and farther away with each step.

"Since Morley Rosmund was cremated by the state, he must be attached to something. A lock of hair, a locket, something he bled on." Sam says as he flicks through the sheets of paper within his manila folder.

"Maybe he's attached to the old woodchipper that prostitute shoved him through." You comment as the car begins to slow down.

"That would be an issue." Dean mumbles as he pulls up to the nefarious corner.

You want to open the door but your nerves seem raught with determination to stay inside the safe car.

"All we need to find out is where he takes the women. Whether it's his old house, his old office, anywhere. We'll send him packing for the night and go there in the morning to scout it out and find whatever he's attached to." Dean tells you as he hooks his hand behind the passenger seat to look at you.

It's a simple plan. Straightforward like always. You three are a team. There's no reason to let yourself get worked up over nothing.

"We're going to be right across the street. We'll be watching you." Your younger best friend tells you calmly and you look up at both of them before nodding.

"Okay. Let's gank this bitch then." You whisper before opening up the car door.

The gentle chill that blows through the breeze assaults all of your limbs as you stand on the street corner.

You watch Baby do a U-turn before the car shuts off. Dean is watching you like a hawk, eyes narrowed as he picks some skin off his bottom lip.

His gaze is comforting and you take deep breaths as you pace back and forth.

"She looks nervous." Sam comments to his older brother as he angles his head to watch you.

"Yeah. She's waiting for a weird pervert ghost. You'd be nervous too if you were her." Dean answers gruffly as his eyes roam your body.

"Why don't you guys just fuck already?" His younger brother asks as he brings his coffee cup to his lips. 

"Excuse me?" His older brother's voice is deep and low, the threatening baritone creeping into his head and rattling his brain. Dean turns his head slowly to his brother with narrowed eyes.

The gaze sets something akin to nervousness in Sam and he gives an awkward chuckle combing his long hair behind his ear.

"I just...I mean… I can see the way you both look at each other." He says with a shrug.

"It's complicated. Don't worry about what me and Y/N do or haven't done." He mumbles before turning back to watch you continue to pace.

"I mean you guys have both liked each other since you guys met. And...Well, you guys always pretend like something between you both doesn't exist." Sam fumbles with his words.

Dean sighs as he pulls his flask out from the inside pocket of his jacket. Taking a swig, he rolls his eyes. 

"I'm not talking about this right now, Sammy. All I do is talk about this shit to you, to Cas, to Bobby, even to Dad when he was still alive. I'm not with her because I don't fucking deserve her. I'm not going to ruin her life like I always do. So, shut the hell up." He barks out before cracking his neck.

Sam nods slowly as he presses his lips into a straight line, "Fine. I just think Y/N should be able to make those decisions for herself too. Y'know?" 

"Shut up, Sam." The fraction of a second that this conversation has gone on, Dean's eyes left you for a minute.

When he turns his head back to the corner, you are gone. 

"Goddammit!" He curses loudly, slapping the steering wheel harshly before shoving the door open and jogging across the street. 

Nothing but the brisk chill of the evening is all Dean can feel. You're completely out of his sight and he puts his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry." Sam apologizes quickly as he joins his older brother.

"If anything happens to her…Fuck!" He curses as his head continuously turns in all directions.

Pulling out his phone, the younger Winchester begins to track the GPS on your cell phone, "I'll find her." Sam whispers nervously as he takes in his brother's broken form.

Dean can feel his heart clenching, his eyes are watering at the mere thought of you being in danger. How could he let you out of his sight?

He promised. He fucking promised. 

This is like Marsh all over again.

Clutching onto the fabric of his shirt over his heart, his head lolls back at the pain and fear that encroaches upon him.

Dean and Sam weren't paying attention when Morley Rosmund came and grabbed you. That you knew for a fact. They were fighting. As per usual. 

The second the man in olden clothes had touched you, your body felt cold and numb.

You could count on your hand the amount of times you've met a ghost this pissed.

You've done jobs by yourself before while your best friends were gallivanting and fighting with every Archangel known to man. This would just have to be one of those times where you suck it up and have to fend for yourself.

You couldn't rely on them always and that's perfectly okay. You can handle yourself, you're strong and capable. 

Ghosts with this angered of a spirit can travel only a certain distance away from their soul-bound item. 

That seems to check out as you're pulled only a block away from that street corner. The office building is old and decrepit. There are many stop work orders on the face of the building as you're pulled inside. 

Grimacing, you step over dead bodies and bones in the first floor hallway.

"This is my office." You hear Morley explain and your breath comes out in puffs of smoke as you wrap your arms around each other for warmth.

"Oh. Lovely." You murmur as the body of a woman around your age lays on the old, varnished desk. 

Your hand reaches for your clavicle and you tug off the old coin pure iron from the necklace before pushing it down into the palm of your hand.

Your eyes glance around the office, trying to find anything that would be the key item for this man to still be bound here. You try to ignore the putrid smell of rotting flesh before the taller ghost is in your line of sight with a feral smile on his face.

His body shifts in and out of this plane of existence before solidifying once more.

"Get on the desk and spread your legs." He commands and you shiver at the roughness of his voice.

Clearing your throat, you sit on the corner trying your best not to touch the dead girl that's there.

"NOW!" The thin glass of the window shatters at his bellow and you swallow thickly as you raise your hand to his face.

Just the thought of touching this dead spirit is nerve wracking but you need to be able to get out of here. You know the building now, you just have to get away.

You press your hand to his face and he shimmers away with a yell. Closing your palm, you jump off of the desk hopping over dead bodies in the hallway. You're so close to the entrance door you can almost taste it.

But, Morley Rosmund is an old, angry ghost. Just as quickly as he vanished, he reappears.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he blocks the doorway and you go to throw the old iron coin at him. Before you can even let the coin slide out of your hand, you're in the air.

Your body travels backward against the wall with a loud thud and you crumple in on yourself with a whimper. You can taste blood in your mouth, can feel your body aching and bruising all over as the ghost advances on you.

Dean is mumbling to himself as he rummages through the trunk.

Hearing glass shatter in the distance, his head jolts up. 

"You hear that?" He asks his younger brother as he grabs his sawed off shotgun.

"Yeah. I got her location. She's not far." The words put gusto into his bones as he rapidly grabs the rest of the materials and weapons he will need.

Slamming the trunk shut, he hauls the bag over his shoulder before throwing a shotgun at his brother.

"Let's go then." He says quickly, ushering Sam to get a move on.

Jogging down the block, it didn't take long for them to find the old, decrepit building you were housed in.

Peeking his head in Dean can see the strewn bodies on the floor, new and old.

"Oh Y/N." He whispers gently as he pushes the door open with the mouth of his gun.

The office door which is cracked and shattered reads 'Mund.' You must be in there.

Stepping over the dead bodies gingerly, the closer he gets to the office with his little brother behind him the louder your whimpers and grunts of pain become.

His jaw clicks and he can hear you cursing out the ghost like a proud sailor.

Kicking open the door, he takes in your half naked body for a fraction of a second before he's shooting the gun at the ghost. The rock salt blasts through Morley Rosmund and he's gone within seconds. 

"Hey. Hey. I got you." He whispers as he jogs over to you.

You whimper loudly, holding your arms out like a frail child and his heart breaks at the sight of you.

"I'm so fucking sorry." He says as he picks you up. Your skin is already bruising and deepening in color as he coddled you to his chest.

"We gotta go!" Sam yells as more glass begins to shatter in the office.

Dean buries your face into his neck as he steps over strewn debris and body parts. You can hear him whispering kind, gentle words in your ear and you practically jump out of your skin as Sam shoots the gun behind you.

"He's one angry son of a bitch." Dean growls as he kicks open the front door.

Stepping down the stairs, the brisk chill of Autumn assaults your half naked body and you groan loudly as Sam shoots the gun once more before closing the front door of the building.

Sammy throws his jacket over your body as Dean jogs back to the Impala with fast feet.

"Did he hurt you? Where did that sick son of a bitch touch you?" The venom in his voice is almost intoxicating to listen too.

"I'm okay." You whisper as he opens the back door of the Impala without a word. 

Throwing the keys to Sam, the younger brother clears his throat uncomfortably. Dean sits in the back of the car with you, he pulls your upper body onto his making sure Sam's jacket is covering your body.

You're still aching and feeling the pain all over but it's also a soft comfort that creeps over your body as Dean runs his fingers through your hair. 

"De?" You whisper as your eyes flutter closed.

"Hmm?" He asks, lowering his head to hear you clearly. 

"When I feel better, I'm going to kick your ass for leaving me alone." You threaten before grimacing and putting your hand to your chest.

His face shifts above you, as if he's been stabbed or shot. Your words cut him to the quick and he can barely nod.

"I would expect nothing less, Candy girl."

You ended up in Dean's bed again that night, which was becoming more of a regular thing than you cared to admit. But, against all of your better judgement, you were okay with it.

You were finally sound asleep when Dean uttered his first words of the evening.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers as he turns towards you.

Your lips are parted, hair splayed over your face as you take shallow breaths during your sleep.

Turning his head to make sure his brother is sleeping, he curls his arm around your form. His thumb grazes gentle circles on your forearm as he watches you sleep.

"I'm so caught up in what to do around you, what to say, how to hide my feelings… It's all getting to be too much for me." He mumbles more to himself than to you.

"I shouldn't have taken my eyes off you tonight. I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention. I don't know what I would have done if you got hurt because of me. God…" His voice is deep and pained. A tear threatens to spill over as he hangs his head.

This would be about the time where he grunts angrily and drinks a beer but he can't leave your side. Not for a minute. 

"I'm getting sick and tired of not having you as mine. Really fucking sick of having to push you away because I'm too goddamn stubborn to do anything about it." He sounds breathless by the end of his monologue. Laying his head down on the pillow, his thumb drifts over your cheekbone once more.

"Then don't be stubborn." You whisper before turning over and facing the window.

Your older best friend's eyes widen and he clears his throat before rubbing at his face roughly with his left hand.

"I didn't...I didn't know you were awake." He whispers as you open your eyes.

You watch as soft grey clouds drift past the large moon that looms over the motel.

"Kind of hard to sleep when your best friend is spilling out his soul to you." You retort quietly, your fingers pull at a frayed string of the comforter that lays over your body.

"So...you heard me?" He asks nervously.

Oh. You heard it all.

Destiny Is Heaven Sent Taglist: @roonyxx​, @deans-baby-momma​

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278​

[mst3kproject]

Hot Car Girl

This film should not be confused with Hot Rod Girl, which I already reviewed (and which was also bad), Hot Car Girl boasts not only a desperately uninspired title, but June Kenney from Earth vs the Spider, Bruno VeSoto from Daddy-O, and Tyler McVey from Night of the Blood Beast.  It was produced by the Corman brothers and directed by Bernard L. Kowalski, who brought us both Blood Beast and Attack of the Giant Leeches.  If you decide to search for the movie online, be sure you’ve got all your anti-porn filters on.

After a night with her boyfriend gets a little too romantic, Peggy Dale suffers some serious misgivings about her reputation and her future… but little does she know she has bigger problems coming.  As a friend reveals to her, Peg’s boyfriend Duke and his pal Freddy make their living as car thieves.  Peggy tries to talk Duke into going straight for her sake, but he will have none of it, not even when his life of crime culminates in a murder!  Feeling that no other man will want her now that she’s no longer a virgin, Peggy is forced to flee with him as the police close in.

Duke and Freddy’s fence appears to be the same junkyard owner from The Choppers, and sure enough, when I looked it up… they’re both Bruno VeSoto.  God damn it, the movies are all coming together again.

I’m gonna have a hard time coming up with anything to say about Hot Car Girl that I haven’t said about another movie before.  It’s a pretty nondescript Young Folks In Trouble film that stands out from the pack only by being unusually upfront about Duke and Peggy’s premarital sex. Like so many other such movies it’s dull and talky and mostly avoids any of the excitement or drama we might hope for from a film about cars and crime.  Shots are either over- or under-lit, the actors look ten years older than the characters they’re playing, and the film can’t decide who its main character is.

The title Hot Car Girl suggests that the movie will be mostly about Peggy.  So, for that matter, do the opening credits, which are semi-animated in the style of Night of the Blood Beast and depict exciting things like car races and women screaming, which don’t happen nearly often enough in the actual movie.  Peggy’s terrified face features prominently here, but... by now, of course, you guys have guessed what I’m going to say next: in spite of this introduction, Peggy doesn’t do much in the film at all.

We first meet her when Duke brings her to a bar where the young folks hang out.  There he gets her drunk, takes her home, and sleeps with her, which the movie treats as a very ordinary situation and not at all a mass of skeevy consent issues. In the morning, Peggy worries that she’s ruined herself in Duke’s eyes as well as everybody else’s, telling Freddy’s girlfriend Mickie that she’s afraid Duke will think she’s ‘cheap’. Mickie assures her that he will think no such thing and as it turns out, he doesn’t, which is what leads Peggy to think she’s stuck with him and nobody else will want her.

This much of the movie is fine, and we expect to move on to Peggy learning about Duke’s life of crime… but then I guess the story realizes it’s asking its audience to identify with a girl who has a very gender-specific problem, and switches rails to be about Duke instead. We don’t even see the moment when Peggy finds out about his criminal activities and realizes what it means for her.  All we get is her telling Duke later that Mickie told her.  The rest of the story is presented through Duke, with Peggy largely standing around either weeping or nagging at him.  Her worries about her chastity never come up again. I assume that’s why she sticks with Duke when things get dicey, but the movie just seems to forget about it.

Other characters talk a lot about how Peggy is a ‘good girl’.  She’s described as such by Duke, who sounds as if he’s set a challenge for himself to corrupt her, and Freddy’s girlfriend Mickie complains that Peggy is ‘so square, she’s a cube!’  (This is mathematically correct: a cube is, in fact, a square squared.)  Peggy does seem naïve, but she never actually objects to all the drinking and drag racing and sex that goes on, and makes only a token protest about the crime before just deciding that this must be her life now.  Duke repeatedly says he should never have gotten mixed up with a girl like her, but the impression is more that he’s tired of her complaining about his lifestyle than that he’s ashamed of having gotten her in trouble.

That might make it sound that Duke is far more in love with the idea of bringing the bourgeoise down to his level than he is with Peggy herself – but in spite of it all they have a surprisingly functional relationship.  The two of them clearly enjoy each other’s company and Duke never once slaps her even when they argue, which is admirable for a movie from the 50’s.  They actually talk about their problems and Duke never blames her for his actions, even when he could almost justify doing so. Probably the height of Peggy’s naivete is when she suggests they just talk to Janice, the girl involved in a car accident Duke caused, and hope she will understand that they meant no harm and don’t want to get in trouble. Instead, Janice sensibly threatens to go to the police, and Duke feels he must kill her to keep her quiet.  He could have blamed Peggy for putting him in that situation, but he didn’t.

In the end, Duke says he’d rather commit suicide than turn himself in to the cops, and for all intents and purposes he does exactly that.  By this point he seems to have realized that the reason he should never have gotten involved with Peggy was for her sake, not his, as he leaves a note to say she was not involved in any of his crimes.  Peggy, however, has no character arc at all.  The end of the film leaves her traumatized but not really having learned anything. Duke actually has to order her to leave him behind, as she is apparently incapable of taking any initiative herself. She is in this story to be its helpless victim, and like Jane from Teenage Crime Wave, it’s very hard to feel any sympathy for her because of it.  At the end she can only throw herself on the mercy of the police.

This is not reassuring because throughout the movie the police have been horrible to everybody.  Duke describes how he was beaten into confessing the last time he was arrested, which is why he refuses to turn himself in now.  Hot Car Girl insists on telling most of its plot points, but actually shows us the cops being dicks.  Janice is arrested after her car accident and she is absolutely distraught, but the detective interrogating her still shouts at and threatens her.  The same man later tells Peggy that brutality like what Duke experienced never solves anything, but it sounds pretty hollow coming from him.

Hot Car Girl is actually pretty ambiguous about the police.  They are certainly the villains in Duke’s story and aren’t very nice people in Janice’s, but they seem to be Peggy’s saving angels.  The cop who died in the car accident is clearly a tragic figure, but elsewhere they are objects of mockery, as when Duke tricks two officers into locking their keys in the car.  Hot Car Girl shies away from making the police outright villains by having Duke shoot first in the final showdown and with the detective’s apology to Peggy for his colleagues’ brutality, but it certainly doesn’t consider them heroes, and blames them outright for Duke turning out the way he did.  I’m not sure if this is an attempt to say something about cops misusing their authority, or if it’s just a side effect of the story being about a criminal.

Like other ‘teens and cars’ movies of the era, Hot Car Girl is about how Crime Doesn’t Pay, and the movie goes out of its way to show that it means it.  As the story progresses and Duke gets in more and more trouble, the people in his life abandon him one by one.  First Freddy and Mickie cut off all contact with him, then the junkyard owner goes to the police hoping to collect the reward Janice’s father is offering for information on her killer.  Neither of them get away with it.  The junkyard owner finds he has a warrant out for his own arrest, and when Freddy and Mickie turn up to plead Peggy’s case, they find themselves facing charges as well. The movie seems to be saying that the good you do doesn’t cancel out the bad, especially if you do good for bad reasons.

At the end of the movie even Peggy is under arrest, although the detective suggests that Duke’s suicide note will allow her to get away with no more than a slap on the wrist, if that.  Like Teenage Crime Wave again, the movie has refused to allow its ostensible heroine to commit a crime.  We saw Peggy lie to her mother about getting a job so she wouldn’t have to answer awkward questions about where she’s getting all this money from, but she’s only been enjoying the fruits of Duke’s crimes, not participating. Once again, it seems the writers fear we will lose all sympathy for Peggy if she does A Crime, whereas they repeatedly ask us to feel for Duke despite his doing many Crime.  Another double-standard, I guess.

I don’t hate this movie, I’m just sort of mildly annoyed by it.  It’s so much like so many other 50’s troubled teens films, and like them the ending leaves the characters’ lives in ruins and the audience depressed.  Can’t a fifties girl ever escape her criminal boyfriend and be happy after?

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

One man’s curse is another man’s blessing (Prompt: Nightmare)

The raven monster looked around frantically for an escape, he was in the woods again, his woods, his home. But he was being hunted. He could sense the villain pursuing him, like so many of its kind, it came with fire, traps, and a crude understanding of what he was. But unlike the other hunters who had all fallen before him, this one knew the ways of magic and knew how to use them against the feathered king of the forest.

“Mr. Lawrence?”

For the first time in the beast’s life, he genuinely feared what would happen to him, he was terrified of this one-legged hunter who would otherwise be nothing but an appetizer to him. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the hunter, the man was looking directly at him and taking careful aim with his gun...

“Mr. Lawrence?”

Not wanting to get shot with whatever magical concoction the hunter undoubtedly put in the bullets, the raven spread his wings and flew away.

*BANG*

*CRRAAACK*

As the tree fell on his back and he fruitlessly struggled to get out of his self-made prison, he cursed himself for being so stupid! The hunter wasn’t aiming at him, he was aiming at the old tree!

“Mr. Lawrence?”

The Raven king’s blood turned into ice as he heard the uneven yet steady footsteps approaching him, his life flashed before his eyes as he part of him wondered what the hunter’s goal was. Did it come to strip the beast of his lovely iridescent-black feathers? Did it come to take him down for sport? Or did it come to avenge the others that he had killed? He howled and flapped his free wing as hard as he could as his hunter came closer and closer to him...

“’EY SAMMY! SOMEONE’S TRYIN’ TA SPEAK TA YA!”

Sammy snapped back to the present; he was human, in the studio’s break room, there were other people here, some of them looked at him like he was either hurt, crazy, or both.

“Huh?! What?! Oh. ...What was the question again?”

“I just asked how you and Joey met each other...”

“Right, that...” Sammy pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath and recited the detail-scrubbed truth he had told many times before. “He was on a hunting trip and he trespassed on my property. It was dark, and he was firing his gun near me. So at the time, I thought he was out to kill me.”

“Oh.”

“He’s still embarrassed about it and I don’t like remembering it.” Sammy took a long sip from his coffee. “And for future reference, my name’s not “Mr. Lawrence”, Just call me Sammy.”

“Okay then...”

“If that’s all you wanted from me,” He stood up from his seat, taking the coffee mug with him “then I’m going back to work.”

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

His talons were dulled and cut, his sharp beak was given the same treatment, his beautiful, glossy feathers that practically sparkled under sunlight and had been the envy of the world of monsters and world of mankind alike had all been plucked out. He stood naked and helpless in a form he had called his prey as long as he could remember, and was told that it was his true form.

Sammy Lawrence woke up from his nightmare in a cold sweat to discover that he had fallen asleep with his charm on, keeping him in what he called his “work skin”. Reaching for the charm Joey gave him and ripping it off, he sighed in relief as he saw his human body getting covered in feathers. But paused in confusion as he saw no further changes take place.

“Don’t panic...” he told himself as he fumbled around in the dark for the phone. “Don’t panic...” he repeated as he punched in Joey’s number. “Don’t panic...” he repeated again as the phone rang.

“Hello?” Joey’s groggy voice answered “Sammy, what time is it-”

“JOEY SYLVESTER DREW, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOUR CURSED NECKLACE DO TO ME?!”

“Sammy, what happened?!” The bird monster heard shuffling on the other line, most likely Joey getting his shoes and coat on. “Can you describe the problem?”

“When I took it off, it wouldn’t let me change back all the way!”

“That’s... unusual...”

“Does sleeping in it effect the charm’s power?”

“Physically, no, it shouldn’t do that.” Joey grabbed some of his spell books off the shelves “Unless you were wearing it for literal years without taking it off, but I highly doubt that’s what’s going on.”

The bird monster heard the sounds of tires screeching.

“Joey?”

“Yes, Sammy?”

“...Are you driving while talking on the phone again?”

“That’s not the issue at hand, are there any other details about your condition that you need to tell me?”

“Joey you idiot, you’re going to get yourself killed if you keep pulling shit like this! Either hang up the phone or I will!”

“Good news, I’m pulling into your driveway as we speak!”

Sammy slapped his forehead in frustration as he hung up the phone. Sure enough, as he looked outside his window he saw the familiar beat-up Rolls Royce that had somehow managed to survive being Joey’s car for at least fifteen years. The same car Joey threw him into all those years ago.

He exited his house and saw Joey hobble out of the driver’s seat trying to balance the almost comedically large stack of books he had brought with him with his cane.

“Need help?”

“It would be appreciated.”

Sammy wordlessly took the large stack out of Joey’s hands and led him into his ‘home’.

As soon as the pair were in, Joey immediately went to work on trying to figure out what went wrong, flipping through his large stack of books and poking and prodding at Sammy’s feather-covered form.

“Did you recently eat or drink anything that felt ‘off’ to you?”

“No.”

“Have you recently been in or near areas that belong to the fae and or any other supernatural being?”

“Do I look like an insane dumbass?”

“First off: Hey! Second off: What about people, did you recently meet someone who you felt was out to get you and or had strong magical abilities?”

“Not any that know about my “Condition” as you call it.”

“Oh dear...”

“What is it?!”

‘Oh dear’, ‘oh no’, ‘oops’, and ‘oh well’ were the four worst phrases Sammy could ever hear Joey say.

“Sammy, how much are you aware about the nature of your condition?”

“I’ve been a raven monster for as long as I could remember, sometimes I would change my size for convenience's sake and could somewhat alter my form to have an extra pair of talons in my wings if I wanted, and then after you stole me from my forest, I could look like a somewhat-normal human being with your charm.”

“I meant, what do you know about the background of your condition, do you know why you have it?” 

“Well, there was what Allison said, but I still think she was just spouting hogwash to convince me I’m one of you people...”

“What was it?”

“According that fortune teller friend of yours, my ‘curse’ was put on me by my mom’s relatives. They couldn’t stand the fact that she eloped with a black man so they “cursed me to take the form of a monster he’d grow the boy into anyway” and that it would only be broken when I found my “Real family”. But I’m pretty sure that if I had a human family that wanted me, they’d look for me.”

“That makes explaining this slightly easier;” Joey sighed. “Sammy, did you know that magic takes more than just blood relations into account of who your family is? In fact, spiritual family connections that are mutual between two parties tend to be stronger than blood family connections.”

“I think you’ve said something like that before...” 

“I’m telling you this because I think that you’ve loosened your curse.”

The bird man blinked in disbelief.

“Are you telling me..?”

Joey twiddled his thumbs sheepishly as he spoke, the man was clearly uncomfortable to break the news to him.

“You are genuinely a human being, and your curse is slowly but surely being lifted.”

Sammy stared at Joey wide-eyed with his visible skin was white as a sheet. He left the room and Joey heard muffled screaming coming from that area.

“Now Sammy, I’m sure you have a lot of mixed feelings about this, but I know we’re bound to find a solution somehow!”

The muffled screaming continued as Sammy was still taking in the fact that his worst personal nightmare was real and happening right now. The songbird musician felt sick to his stomach... He used to eat humans for fuck’s sake! They were one of his favorite meats before meeting Joey, and now he was being told that he was one?!

“Sammy?”

And the pack... Without him, what would happen to the werewolf pack in the studio?! He needed his wings to properly watch after them! Even if they knew his scent too well to attack him while they were wolfed out, a human being is much slower and weaker than a pack of werewolves, they could get themselves hurt, or worse, killed if he couldn’t keep up with them! And what if one of them accidentally turned him?! None of them would ever be able to live with the emotional turmoil of that!

“Sammy..?”

He was useless now! Nothing more than a pathetic wreck of a human being who had thrown away all his value because he let his guard down, got too soft in the humans’ world, too comfortable talking with them... And now he doomed himself to be one of them, and the wolf pack to a terrible fate.

“Sammy.”

The musician felt a reassuring hand on his back, and looked up to see Joey Drew’s concerned face.

“Take a few days off if you need them, I can understand if you need space to sort all of this out.”

He stayed silent as he thought over his situation.

As it turned out, taking some space was exactly what he needed. All it took was a few days back in the woods, far away from the studio, and the people there and he was back to his former glory, only turning human again when he put on Joey’s cursed trinket.

He knew he’d have to return eventually, but when he did, he’d know better than to let his guard down again.

[thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis]

Ahoy, Ladies! (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Word Count: 1,360

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: After being gone for 6 weeks to visit some family, your mom drags you to the new Starcourt Mall where your friend and crush Steve is at his new job.

Warning: Fluff and making fun of Steve, also small SEASON 3 SPOILERS

A/N: I watched season 3 of stranger things and i just have so many feelings for Steve rn so this is happening lol

Part 2

“You excited to be back home?”

You look up from your issue of “Green Arrow” to see your mom looking at you from the corner of her eye. You had been away for 6 weeks visiting family in Nevada, suffering in the heat and being nowhere near the bright lights of Las Vegas. It was completely awful but your parents had forced you to leave behind your friends to shrivel up in the intense Nevada sun. 

But now your back, right before the fourth of July and you are so excited to be back home in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve missed the small town.

“Yeah, I am.” You say with a smile.

“I’m glad. Before we go home I need to make a stop at Starcourt.”

“The new mall?”

“Yeah, your grandpa was asking about new shoes and has been busy so I’m gonna run around and look for a pair for him. Why don’t you check the mall out? You missed the opening while you were in Nevada visiting Uncle Hector and Aunt Suzie.” Your mom explained.

You let out a sigh and look back down at your comic book, “Okay.”

Your mom pulled into the mall parking lot, it was already packed with cars and families all happy excited for the new mall. You and your mom piled out of the car and walked into the mall. Your mom said she might be a while so you both planned to meet in the opening in an hour. 

Looking around at the full mall, all the people and loud talking was starting to give you a headache so you decided to just anchor down somewhere until the hour was up. With a throb in your head, you looked around before your eyes landed on a sign for Scoops Ahoy. Ice cream probably won’t help the situation but you could sit there and read your comics for a while until your mom was done.

You walked into the shop, lots of kids and teens eating ice cream and drinking milkshakes were sitting around. Behind the counter was a tall brunette with his back turned as he talked to a girl holding a whiteboard with some scoring on it. Even with his back turned, you’d recognize that big mop of hair anywhere as your best friend Steve Harrington, your best friend and crush. You grow a sneaky smile on your face as you walk to the counter and ring the bell. 

“Customer, Popeye.” The girl said, pointing to you. You could hear Steve sigh and tug on a ridiculous sailor’s cap on before turning around. His eyes were closed as he walked up to the register.

“Ahoy, welcome to Scoops Ahoy. I’ll be your captain on this adventure to flavor. Care to try our new Red Cherry Sea flavor?” Steve only then opened his eyes to see you standing on the other side of the counter. His eyes widened on you, seeming like he can’t believe you standing in front of him. It makes you giggle as you eye his new look as well.

“Nice uniform, Ishmael. Find your white whale yet?” you ask, smiling wide at your own joke. Steve was still frozen as you stood there laughing at him, his mind not knowing what to do. You had left weeks ago to visit family out of state and he had missed you like crazy. Now here you were, standing in front of him with a great tan and a huge smile that was too busy making his heart race.

“Y/N?” Steve asked, still not sure you were even there.

You raised your hands in a “jazz hands” gesture, “Ta-da!”

“You’re back!” Steve smiled and came around the counter and pulled you into a huge hug, his arms tight around your body. You hugged back just as hard, your face warm with the affection. “When did you get back?”

“Today, my mom needed to stop here quickly so I’m just waiting around for her.” You explain. You two pull apart, Steve’s hands moving to your waist and yours to his shoulders. 

“I am so glad your back. You have no idea how much it sucked with you being gone. Plus Dustin has been at science camp too so I have been stuck with the other kids.”

“Aw,” You pinch his cheek, “Poor you.”

“Are you two done?” Both you and Steve turn to the girl in the window, a bored look on her face. “This display of affection is more sickening sweet than the ice cream.”

Steve rolled his eyes and points to the girl, “Y/N, this is Robin.”

“Hey.” You say, waving at her. She nods and closes the window pane, leaving you and Steve to yourselves. “Well then.”

“Don’t worry about her. How was Nevada? Sick tan, by the way.”

“Thanks, and it was hot and dry. No fun whatsoever.” You explain, leaning against the counter as Steve moves back around.

“Bet it was better than scooping ice cream 5 days a week.” He says, also leaning on the counter. Your faces are only a few inches apart.

“You might be right. Especially if I had to wear that get-up.” You said with a smile. Besides him being made fun of, Steve smiles back; just glad to have you back. “So, you and Robin?”

“What?”

“Anything you should tell me?”

Steve gets a disgusting look on his face and shakes his head, “Me and Robin? Gross, she hates me and says I suck all the time.”

“Well...” You started, smiling when you saw the shocked look on his face. “I’m kidding.”

“There is no me and Robin. Why? You jealous or something?”

Your face heats up, flushed with being found out despite your joking around. “What? N-no.”

“You totally were!” Steve yells, pointing at you and starting to laugh. 

“Stop it!” You yell, trying to reach over and slap his arm as he kept laughing. People were starting to look at you two and your face was getting more and more red. Finally, Steve calms down enough to start talking again.

“You don’t need to worry. No one could steal me from you.”

You freeze as you stare at Steve. What did he just say? As you’re questioning what you heard, Steve freezes wide-eyed at what he had just said.

“Th-That came out wrong. It’s not like-like you have me. What? No, that’s not what I meant. No one has been stolen. Oh god.” Steve puts his head in his hands, defeated by his own words. Seeing him like that finally pulls you back to the moment.

“Steve,” He looks up and a look of regret comes over his face, “What did you mean that ‘No one could steal you from me’?” you ask.

“I-” Steve takes a breath, Now or never, “I was just saying that no one could, no one could take me away from you. I’m in too deep for someone to do that.”

You stand there, heart beating and palms sweating, not knowing what to do about this. Steve Harrington had just confessed, to you! You never thought that this could happen, putting very little stock in him looking your way like that.

“Hello? Y/N?” Steve asked, waving a hand in front of your face. You slowly blinked as Steve sighed and looked down to the counter. “Dammit, I ruined everything. Can we just forget that thi-”

Before he could finish, you pulled on his uniform ribbon to make him lurch forward and pressed your lips to his. With your eyes closed, you didn’t get the chance to see Steve’s wide eyes, but he slowly closes his eyes and grabs your face, pulling you closer. You pull back once you were out of breath, both you and Steve breathing heavy as you looked at each other.

“Wow.” Steve says, his eyes not moving from you.

“Yeah.”

“That wasn’t on the menu.”

You laugh as Steve smiles. “No, but I hope you wouldn’t mind giving me another helping?”

“With pleasure.” Steve takes initiative and grabs your face this time, pulling you into another kiss. Man, you were glad your mom had to come to the mall.

[queenrose730]

Untitled Bucky fic in-progress

I’ll follow you wherever.

Now that meant sitting on the back of run down bug, uncomfortably close to the man you had been trying to track for two years.

You knew Steve would call you the moment you saw the new that the UN was bombed and the Winter Solider was suspect number one. It honestly had taken longer than you thought for that call to come in. You already had a bag packed and were pacing by the phone.

“Yn I need your help.” Steve already sounded exhausted.

“Sure as shit do Steve. What the hell is going on? Why all the sudden is the Soldier bombing the UN?”

“Bucky did not bomb the UN.” He emphasized Bucky hard. You knew he hate when you called him that.

“Fine.” You huffed. “If it wasn’t Barnes then who was it?”

“I’m not sure yet. Just get to Germany.”

“On my way. Don’t do anything to stupid or reckless until I get there.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart. That’s your job.” He hung up and set coordinates to your phone.

 “Can you move your seat up? “

“No. “

“Ah so he does speak!” Barnes hadn’t said anything to you since you showed up in the warehouse in the same bug you were now stuffed into. Sam let out a chuckle at your comment but Barnes just kept his eye focused on Steve and Sharon.

Their conversation was ending when you saw them kiss.

“When the hell did that happen Sam?” You slapped him across the shoulder. “And why didn’t you tell me!”

“Damn girl.” He was rubbing the front of his shoulder where you hit him. “As far as I know that’s the first time.” Steve was walking back the car and placed his and Sam’s gear in the trunk.

“I got to make one more call before we leave.” He said dipping down to get in the car.

“So what was that all about Steve?” You couldn’t hide the teasing grin on your face.

“Yn.” He warned. You through your hands up in defense

“Alright alright. “

Steve drove to an empty warehouse not far from the airport.

“We will set up here for the night.” All the men got out of the car and busied themselves with setting up a makeshift table and some sleeping areas.

“I’ll go scrounge up some food for us. I’m sure y’all are hungry.” You picked up a baseball cap that was laying in the trunk. Putting it on then pulling your hood up.

“Is that a good idea?”

“Nobody knows I’m even here Steve. As far as their concerned I’m still in Poland. So no eyes are looking for me. I can’t have you two, at least, running on empty.” You pointed between Sam and Steve. “And I guess you too Barnes.”

“Yn, just don’t – “

“Do anything stupid or reckless.” You cut him off. “Yea yea. I know.” You dipped out of the building before anyone could protest further. gently check that you gun was secure under your coat before heading down the road.

All the boys were happy that you managed to bring back Chinese food. You were sure that they thought you would be just coming back with gas station garbage. Steve had gone over the plan with everyone before you found a quiet corner to sit and clean what weapons you had with you. He assured you that more were coming. You hadn’t expected to need this much fire power, two guns and a couple knives weren’t going to cut it against Tony or whatever or whoever was waiting in Siberia. You were also acutely aware that Barnes was staring at you.

“Can I help you with something sir stares a lot?” You didn’t look up from the gun.

“Umm n-no. Just watching you.” You sighed setting the gun down to meet his eyes.

“Obviously. But why? “

Barnes looked down at his hands then back to you.  

“You were the one tacking me down weren’t you? “

“I was. “

“Your good.” He gave you a quick smile.

“Clearly not good enough. Lost your trail in Poland and was stuck there for the last nine months.” He grimaced when you mentioned Poland. “Exactly my point. So where did you run off to? The most I figured you were still somewhere in Central Europe?  “

“Romania.” He had almost a proud smile on his face

“You sneaky fuck. Not many people can slip past me. Good job.” He dropped his head again.

“So why are you here? Why were you tracking me for Steve? “

“Because,” you started packing your weapons away. “I promised that dumb sack of muscle that I’d follow him no matter what.”  You adjusted you coat and got comfortable as you could against the wall. “So now here I am in some shit hole in Germany.” You shrugged and closed your eyes. “Now I’m going to try and get some rest.” You peaked at him with one eye. “You just keep on doing whatever that it.” You waved him off and tucked your arms around yourself.

Something bumped your foot. Before you could even think instincts took over. your right hand grabbed the gun at your side and pointed. Your eyes finally caught up only to see Sam with his hands up and a surprised look on his face.

“Told you to be careful waking her up.” Steve was laughing from somewhere behind Sam.

“Then why did you do it?” Sam’s eyes were still on the gun pointed at him. All Steve could do was laugh.

Your brain finally catches up and lowers the gun.

“Sorry Sam. I get a little jumpy on the job.” You reached your hand out to him so he could help you up.

“No shit.” As he pulled you to your feet, you holstered you gun. “We are getting ready to leave.”

“Right. I’m going to do a perimeter check before we go. No since in getting caught before we even start.” You grab the baseball hat you wore the night before and pulled your gun back from the holster.

“Yn….” You cut Steve off with your hand.

“Don’t start.” He went to say something back to you but you just glared at him. Daring him to test you. When he didn’t you walked to the door and placed your gun in the pocket of your coat with your hand still on it.

“You can’t be serious Steve.” Sam stepped forward. Steve didn’t move but you turned back to face Sam. Giving him the same look you just have Steve.

“Fine.” He huffed out raising his hands. You nodded your head to were Barnes was standing.

“Anything from the peanut gallery there Barnes? “

“No ma’am “

“Good.” You turn back to the door and left.

You were only gone fifteen minutes. You wanted to make a good perimeter and check the way to the interstate. Everything looked fine. Light traffic on the surface streets and the interstate was packed. A good and easy way to blend it.

“We should be good at least to the interstate.” You let the door shut behind you as you walk to the three men standing around the car.

“You walked all the way to the interstate?” Barnes seem surprised

“No dummy. Just far enough to get a look at traffic. It’s busy so we should be able to blend in with out issue.” You turned to Steve who nodded his head.

“Then let’s go.” Barnes was the first in the car. Sam shoved the seat back a little too hard and you heard Barnes mumble something under his breath. You paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. There was no going back. Steve walked up behind you and placed a hand on the small of you back.

“Everything ok sweetheart?” You nodded and let out your breath.

“A lot of shit is going to change today Steve. “

“You can still leave yn.” You scoffed.

“And let you three have all the fun. I think not Rogers!” You patted the roof of the car and slid in next to Barnes.

The ride to the airport was quite. Everyone had their eyes trained on a different part of the road. The airport itself was busy. Cars and people just about everywhere. That’s what made the parking garage even more eerie. It was empty. Not a single car. Steve drove up a few levels before parking allowing everyone to get out and stretch.

“I’m going to do a per- “

“Yn. There is nobody here. We didn’t pass a single car.” Steve had his hand on your shoulder. He was relaxed somehow. So you mimicked his composer and leaned against the car. You tensed again when you heard a vehicle approaching. Pushing off from the car a reaching for your gun. But again Steve was calm.

“It’s irritating how relaxed you are right now.” You snarled at him. He just smiled and walked forward as the white van pulled into a spot a few down from where you were.

[meaningofmotorsport]

Mid-Week Motorsport Headlines - 10th March 2021

F1

The FIA has released the results of its extensive investigation into the crash which involved Romain Grosjean, on the opening lap of the Bahrain Grand Prix. As well as the headline figure, of a 67G impact with the barriers, the FIA discussed what the issues were, which allowed the car to pierce the barrier, before then catching on fire. It should be expected that in the coming years, improvements to barrier strengthening, fire retardant clothing, and fuel cell lines, will all be made, to try and mitigate the risks which the drivers put themselves through, every time they race.

The three final teams have released their liveries for this season, the new Haas design has done nothing to keep them out of the news, as the Russian inspired livery is pushing the limits of what can be allowed, following the Russian doping scandal. The Williams car is receiving mixed reviews, with some loving and some not, I can’t decide either way personally, it isn’t bad, yet not stunning. The last team was Ferrari, who had their launch today, with a design which looked really nice, until they slapped a green Mission Winnow logo on the engine cover, which just ruins it all.

Nevertheless, with testing about to start, all the talk about liveries will be gone, and the focus will turn to the clock, even if we cannot learn too much from testing!

IndyCar

Colton Herta will have his dad calling the strategy for him during this season, and whilst a father-son combination like this has not worked for other families, like the Rahal’s, with them both being quite calm, it could work very well, and even help them to a title!

Carlin has finally announced, that Chilton will do what has now become his usual calendar in the series, doing all the road and street courses, as well as the Indy 500. Carlin has really struggled to get anywhere in IndyCar, after joining a few years back, they need some big signings either in the driver’s seat or in engineering, to boost the team up the grid.

Talks of Grosjean doing the oval at Gateway are getting stronger, with Dale Coyne saying he would field a third car to allow him to do so. At this point, the chances of him doing it are quite high I feel, as when you look at how his opinion has progressed in the past few months, by the time we get to that race, it could have gone much further indeed.

Formula E

The FE drivers have once again called out to the series organisers, to change the qualifying format, as they feel it has too large an influence on who wins the title. I can see where they are coming from, as the effect of being in Group 1 is not slight, it ruins the weekend in most cases for those six drivers. If they can find a fairer way to do it, or just one which produces less of a difference between the groups, then that could work much better. I understand the need to shake up the grid at each race, however this makes it feel almost scripted.

MotoGP

With pre-season testing completed in Qatar ahead of the new season, we were able to get a rough idea of who was looking fast. So, when Miller was able to break the circuit lap record, it certainly showed that they mean business this year, after a lacklustre 2020, especially for the factory squad. Aprilia were arguably one of the stars of the test, with Aleix topping two of the days, and feeling confident, even if he didn’t want to expect too much from this year’s campaign. Honda did not produce any of the top times, although we shouldn’t expect them to have completely fallen off the pace. Pol is still getting used to the team, and we have not seen Marquez turn a wheel yet. Yamaha were up near the top, with all the bikes showing pace, they just need to find some consistency to fight for the title. Suzuki and KTM were also fairly quiet, and whether this be sandbagging, or them not suiting the track, we should still expect strong years from both teams.

Other News

The historic 24 Hours of Le Mans, has been moved back from its usual June spot, to August, like it did last year, this should give it an even better chance of having fans at the event, and most likely help to bolster the hopefully packed field of cars. This year’s race will be very interesting given the new Hypercar format, as the sport enters a new era, which could become another incredible time for endurance racing, with so many big names returning.

-M

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 79

“Harper, babe, come on..let’s talk about this” Jared had to run to catch up with her outside, when he grabbed her arm she stopped and the look in her eyes was pure bewilderment “talk about what?” she looked at him like she had absolutely no clue what he was talking about. “Harper, are you serious? We need to talk about you, and everything that is troubling you right now, you’ve got so much to deal with and you’re walking around like a zombie” he bit his lip, the worry scribbled all over his face was undeniable, “I’m fine..I just need some time alone..would you mind if I just went back to my apartment..alone?” the look of detachment she gave him squeezed his throat together, of course I don’t want you to go anywhere by yourself, and especially not now, but what can I do? I need to respect your boundaries “no..you go and do you..I understand..if you need me, you know where I am, ok?”. There was no kiss to calm his racing mind, no touch, all she did was nod in appreciation, turned on her heels and half ran-half walked away from him without even looking back, who was it that once said ‘if you love someone, set them free, if they don’t come back to you, they were never yours to keep’? don’t care, all I care and wish for is that you find your way back to me real soon. With a heavy heart and lead in his shoes he started walking in the other direction, get some air, distract yourself, thinking about her walking away from you is unbearable, central park, a little bit of nature and away from this racing city will do you good. Evening was throwing its’ last rays of light around as he walked back to the hotel, so weird that every corner of every street in this crazy city seemed to hold so many memories even if they had been together for a relative short time, he saw her dance and twirl and giggle in front of his eyes everytime he turned a corner, just come home to me babe, please. “Good evening, Sir, will you be dining out? Do you need reservations?” the clerk at the hotel reception asked him as he handed him his keycard, “Uhh, no..not tonight, I’ll order in I guess..” with a friendly nod he took the key and headed on up to his room. Flicking through the channels on TV, checking his phone for the umpteenth time, checking his iPad, checking his hair for split ends, nothing could calm him down, he brushed every device from his lap and got up to stare through the window, should I call her? Send an app? Start an e-mail? Tempting but no..leave her be for a bit, if she hasn’t come back by tomorrow morning, you can go over to her apartment, give her some space.

After hours of tossing and turning his mind finally welcomed the sweet darkness of sleep, somewhere in the distance he heard a door open and close again, he was dreaming,..five minutes later he could’ve sworn he felt the mattress dip, still not waking up, I’m still sleeping. It was the arm digging under him and an arm folding over him and a warm body glueing itself against him that had him resurfacing, his eyes slowly fluttered open only to find himself wishing he wasn’t dreaming, and he wasn’t because there she was “I’m ready, Jay..I’m coming back to LA with you” her breath was warm and sweet against his cheek. Wide awake now, he rolled on his side and kissed her full lips “are you really sure? I mean..I don’t want to pressure you”, even in the darkness she could see the worried cloud veiling his eyes. “I’m not sure of most things anymore, but the one thing I’m sure of is that I love you and I want to be with you”. Jay gently pushed a strand of hair away from her face “I love you too..we’ll take it step by step, ok? We can evaluate after a month or so..”, his words made her tap his nose “now you make it sound like school, with all those evaluations..let’s just agree that whenever there’s an issue we’re open about it” she clarified, he nodded. “Thanks for giving me some alone-time” she added, “yeah..are you ok? So, did you go back to your apartment?” he tried to get to the bottom of her Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act, but it obviously was a bridge too far because she instantly shut down again “I’d imagined you being a lot happier about me moving in with you”. He stole another kiss from her lips “Honey, I've just been woken up after hours of tossing and turning, so I'm really sorry that at my age it gets more and more difficult to do all excited cartwheels in the middle of the night” he gave her a fat, exhausted grin “but trust me, I'm deliriously happy” his finger tracing the perfection of her nose. “I knew I had to give you some space but tonight was hell..being here all by myself, I barely managed to not drive myself insane” another kiss and she put her head back down against his chest “I'm trouble, Jay, plain and simple trouble” her warm breath tickled against his naked skin. “Oh no, you're not, you're exquisite trouble, but more importantly you're all the trouble I love so much..I'm not exactly your typical choir boy either, now am I?” his arm caressed her back which made her cuddle up even closer. “Shame..I could do with a choir boy in my life..” she giggled as he slapped her butt in response, “oh really? Well I may look like Jesus but what do you think I let Satan out to play?” he rolled her over and pinned her down on the mattress.

The doorbell rang, oh god, she was nowhere near ready and Jay was already there, she had left the hotel early this morning to start on getting most of her stuff ready, and even though there wasn't much to pack apart from some clothes, she didn't know where to start on all her brushes, paints, pencils. “You ready?” Jared pushed open the door, “no..I'm so sorry, I don't know where to start..it's gonna take forever to get all my stuff packed up” she nervously puffed a strand of hair out of her eyes, while he looked at the warzone in front of him. “Oh honey, you only need some clothes..I was gonna keep it as a surprise but everything you need to paint and more is being delivered to my house right now, so you can keep everything here..so next time we're in New York you can come and paint here without having to move everything”. Huh? She looked at him in shock, “but..it took me years to collect all this stuff, do you know how much even one of these brushes cost?” but his reaction was just a shrug “I haven't got a clue, does it matter? You'll have two sets now”. Was she being ungrateful? Uhg, yeah she was “thank you, Jay..just promise you'll let me pay for it?” it was the least she could do now she finally had some money in the bank, “I will do no such thing, consider it a 'welcome to your new home' present” he gave her a fast wink before he folded his arms around her waist and kissed her. “You are amazing..I couldn't have done all this, gotten through all this without your help..I don't think you know how grateful I am” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Oh trust me, I do know..I felt your gratitude last night” he grinned, stealing kisses “there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, except keep our plane waiting, so come on, let's get your stuff and let's get out of here, the sun is waiting for us”.

Was it having to say goodbye to New York? Was it all the drama with her family? Whatever it was, she was zoning out again, during the flight down here, she had seemed so absent, she had been staring out of the plane window completely lost in her own thoughts. The car drove up his driveway and he squeezed her hand “home at last”, Harper sat up and grabbed her bag, it was like she saw his house for the first time..she didn't remember much from a couple of days ago, the size of his house still shocked her. “How can anyone ever afford such a house?..I don't remember it being this big” she jumped out of the car “and I thought my parents' house was ridiculous but this one is just next level”. Jared, clearly embarrassed, shrugged, was it really that over the top? Looking at it..actually yeah..it was much bigger than the previous house “it's just a house, darling..a roof over my..our head, and aren't you glad to be out of that frikkin' cold of New York?..that's why I love LA so much, the climate is real constant all year round, good for my old bones”. A smile on the verge of a giggle curled around those delicious lips, “come on, golden oldie, take me inside” she hooked her arm in his, all the doom and gloom of the plane and car ride suddenly completely forgotten about, or was that just a fine example of excellent acting?. “Did I already tell you that your bedroom is actually the size of my entire apartment?” she dropped her bag, taking in the beautiful room full of light with an enormous, plush looking, bed against the only wall, all the rest was windows all around, guitars neatly lined up in one corner of the room..guitars? “do you keep those around to serenade all your conquests for the night?” she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “This room has got the best acoustics..that and the inspiration usually comes in the middle of the night, so I like to have a guitar at hand” he couldn't help but be a little annoyed, why was there always a sense of mistrust? “and it's no longer my bedroom..it's OUR bedroom”. Did she even listen to anything he had just said? She just sat down on the side of the bed, clearly absorbed with whatever was dancing round in her head, “what is it?” he sat down next to her, twirling a strand of hair around his finger, “huh?” to his surprise she got up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the city of Angels underneath her “now that is an iconic view” she tried to change the subject, the last thing she wanted to talk about was the mess in her head. “Yeah it is” he came standing behind her, folding his arms around her waist as he kissed the side of her neck, you don't want to talk about it, fine, just know that you're gonna have to talk about it sooner or later.

This house was a maze, you needed a sat nav to find your way round here, down another set of stairs, what would be behind this door? Was that another living room? Oh, a recording studio..this house was packed with two things: music and there was some damn fine art hanging on the walls, but did it feel homely?..nope, it actually felt like a well designed roof over your head, nothing more, this house didn't feel lived in, it just had no soul..and a soul was what the owner of this house had in abundance. When she finally found her way to the kitchen, he just put his phone down “there you are”, why did she have the constant feeling that he was 'scanning' her? Like she would walk into a room and the first thing he seemed to be doing was checking her mood or her behavior. “You know I used to have a turtle as a kid and when the grass in the backyard would get long, I used to stick a little flag on his shield with gum, so I could spot him instantly at all times, I think I need someone to stick the same flag on my head because this place is a frikkin maze, I get lost every single time”. Jared started giggling behind her, “great idea! I bet you look amazing with a little flag on your head, we can make it a feature every time I throw a party”, she opened the fridge looking for something to drink, ok, water, juices in every single flavour, beers, bottles of wine..this fridge was nearly as big as his house. “Looking at your fridge, I think you probably do throw a party twice a week” she picked something fizzy and sat down next to him “do they know?”, he gave her a puzzled look “who needs to know what?”, a sip of her drink “all your friends, do they know I live here now?” oh, was that what was bothering her, nervous about meeting his friends and family, , understandable, those wackos were pretty possessive at the best of times. “No, they don't, not yet at least, it all happened so sudden, but I'll keep them up to date this week and maybe I can even plan a lovely dinner soon with them and us, they'll love you” she couldn't see that he was crossing his fingers behind his back.

[butterflydreaming-writes-fic]

*sweats* I'm excited to offer a gift fic for @imthatpeculiarone in this round of the Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion. 

Title: This Wheel's on Fire 

Word Count: 3,419 

Fluff, Rated Gen

An old Lincoln Continental with faded paint nearly hits Baby in the supermarket parking lot. Dean slams the brakes. His untasted coffee takes a dive, and Dean is quickly slapping take-out napkins from the glove box stash even as he slides into an open parking spot. He takes a minute of the limited time he has for this errand to get himself calmed down.

His temper flares up again when he sees that he’s parked next to the gold Continental. He doesn’t have time to move the Impala to another spot, so he slides over the bench seat. The Fiat on that side is crookedly parked but still leaves enough space for Dean to open the door more than four inches.

Phone in hand,  he scrolls through Jody’s text messages for the list. While he was driving to the store, she’s added more. He grabs a shopping cart on the way in, notes where the freezer with the ice is, and speeds up an aisle toward the bakery section, where he almost collides with a guy striding through the T-intersection.

“Shit! By bad,” Dean says, stopping short of running the startled man down.

The man squints. His blue eyes burn brighter. “That would be the second time today,” he accuses.

“What?” Dean asks.

The man rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this,” he gripes as he beelines for another section of the store.

Dean doesn’t have time either. The cake is ready when he gets to the bakery counter, but they’ve written “Congratulations Kelsy” instead of “Kelly.” To fix it, Dean would have to wait for the only person on staff with the rare skill of being able to write with decorator gel to get back from a break of unknown duration. He takes the cake as-is and a tube of Cake Mate. He rattles through the aisles for the rest of the supplies, eyes the coffee cart, but opts to get in the shortest of the long checkout lines instead.

The cranky guy gets in line behind him.

Their eyes meet and lock. For a second it looks like the guy might yield and move to another line, but as Dean is starting to unload his items onto the belt, the guys interrupts.

“Can I go ahead of you? I only have three things.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Dean says. “I’m on a clock.”

“I’m not your buddy,” Blue Eyes snipes. He eyes Dean’s purchases, expression a mix of irritation and confusion.

“Man, what is your issue with me?” Dean protests. “Look, I haven’t had my coffee yet, so maybe I’m missing something. But I’ve gotta finish shopping and be gone in sixty seconds, OK? There’s a pregnant lady waiting for her cake and baby shower games. I’ll be out of your life in five minutes.”

The man’s face suddenly brightens. “You’re going to a baby shower.” The brilliance of his smile is like white sparks. Dean feels his body respond to the warmth of that smile even though the sudden transformation from pissy to friendly throws him.

The checker has started scanning Dean’s purchases. He gives her the sticker with the barcode for the cake. “And six bags of ice,” he tells her.

Blue Eyes asks, “Is the party for your partner?”

That startles a laugh out of Dean. “No,” he answers, a drawn out negation. “My friend is hosting. The mom-to-be is from her church.” He adds, “I’m not seeing anyone currently.” He gives the guys his own friendly smile.

Dean’s lure lands, because the man extends a hand. “I’m Cas. By the way.”

“Dean.” They shake hands. Cas has a strong grip. In the fleeting skin to skin contact notes the slight callous and Cas’s long fingers. He has good hands.

“It's a happy occasion.” Cas sets down his purchases: a guinea pig plushie, pack of gold gift wrapping tissue, and a glossy white bag decorated with rainbows and unicorns. A tween must be having a birthday. 

Dean reaches for his wallet to pay. It’s not in his pocket. “Crap.” This grocery store isn’t set up to take pay apps.

Cas catches on. “Dean, I’ve got this,” he says. “It’s just,” he gestures at the bags, “diapers and candy bars.” 

“It’s a lot,” Dean objects. “I’ll Venmo you the money right now.”

“I don’t know Venmo,” Cas says. He tells the cashier, “I’ll pay for mine with his.” To Dean he says, “Let’s exchange phone numbers and we can settle up later when we’re not holding up a checkout line.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asks.

“I believe in trusting people.” Cas nearly bumps Dean’s hip putting his card into the payment terminal. When the path is clear, Dean pushes the shopping cart past the checkstand, but for a long moment Cas and Dean are crowded into each other’s personal space. 

“You said you haven’t had coffee yet. Can I buy you a cup?” Cas points to the coffee cart. “I know you’re short on time, but we can get each other’s contact info while they make our drinks.”

They both order drip coffee, black. The barista doesn’t have any brewed, and offers a choice between Americanos or a five minute wait.

“We can blame our delay on traffic,” Cas suggests.

They opt for the wait.

“OK, give me your number,” Dean says after they take a table in the tiny dining area. “If you want I can bring you cash after I drop off the party stuff.”

The cart is too big, so Dean takes out the bags and sets them on the table, leaving the cart parked out of the way. He’ll need it when he gets the ice on the way out. They start out chatting about movies and end up in an oddly intense discussion about social justice and the existence of a benevolent God in the minutes until the barista calls out that their coffees are ready.

Dean takes the lid off and slugs the coffee. He can’t help the sound that comes out of him, even though it is borderline inappropriate for a grocery store. “That’s scalding,” he says, eyes watering, “but so good.” Cas is smiling at him. “My friend woke me up with the shopping emergency,” Dean explains. He gestures to his coffee-splattered clothes. “And then some dick in a crappy Continental makes a illegal left on the way in here — “

“Excuse me ,” Cas interrupts with flashpoint ire. “That turn was both legal and clear , and if your boat hadn’t been taking up two lanes we would not have had that near miss!”

Dean takes a long swallow of hot coffee before he gets in a fight over Baby’s honor. He takes a mental half-step back as he realizes that Cas was the driver earlier. Dean has a bad temper, he knows it, and he’s learned to be better about it than he was in his twenties. Cas had saved his bacon with the money thing, and he had done it in spite of thinking Dean was in the wrong.

“Look. Thanks for the help,” he says. He’s sincere but somehow it comes out sounding aggressive. “I mean it. Thanks.” Without saying anything more, he grabs his bags and stalks out. He makes it all the way to Baby before he realizes. He gets the shopping bags in the trunk and goes back for the forgotten ice.

Cas is walking directly toward him. For a solid three strides across the asphalt it is a game of chicken. They stare daggers at each other, oblivious to any traffic around. Nearly simultaneously, they both realize that Cas is walking to his car, which is parked right next to the Impala, and Dean is walking back into the grocery store. They pass each other; the absence of acknowledgement is an acknowledgement in itself.

Dean makes it back into the store, loads up a shopping cart with the ice Cas paid for, and pushes the rattling cart out the door and across the lot to his car. The Continental is still in its spot. Cas hasn’t left yet; he is sitting in the driver seat. Dean can’t get into his driver’s seat until Cas leaves, so he loads the ice into the trunk slowly. He finishes his coffee.

When Cas still hasn’t left, Dean walks around the Lincoln’s large ass end and raps a knuckle on the back window to get Cas’s attention. He waits for Cas to roll down the window a few inches, before pitching his voice to him. “I can’t get in my car until you pull out,” he tells him.

“Your shopping cart is in the way. I’ve been waiting until it’s safe,” Cas informs him.

Dean just shakes his head and walks away, dragging his cart to the corral at the end of the parking row. He lobs his empty paper cup into the same trash can he dropped the mess from his spilled coffee into. He watches Cas back out of the space, smooth and easy, the engine of the Continental bumbling like a contented bee as he drives away. Dean jogs back to the Impala and slides into the driver seat before a car can take the newly empty spot, not that anything would fill the space like that late ‘70s Lincoln Continental Mark V. 

He gets a weird feeling looking at the empty space. It feels like a missed opportunity. He wishes he’d kept his mouth shut about the left turn. How many times had someone cut him off in traffic or made a bad lane change, and how many of those times mattered after? None. He and Cas had been having a good conversation, connecting.

Dean tunes the radio to the classic rock station, relaxes with the comfortable and familiar, and heads out. Kelly’s address is less than five minutes away, but too many of the residential streets dead end, and by the time he finds the right path through, it’s been a quarter hour. there is space for him in the driveway, though, and he pulls in so that he can unload the ice bags. He tosses one on his shoulder and knocks on the unfamiliar door.

* * *

“I should have handled that better,” Cas says to the stuffed animal, his last minute gift for Kelly’s baby-on-the-way. Her house is close by and he knows the way, so he finds himself thinking about Dean, feelings a mix of irritation and deep attraction. Dean, who he will probably never see again.

Because he knows that quite a few guests will be attending her party, he parks the Lincoln around the block to leave space along the street in front of her home. Kelly Kline-Rooney and her husband Jefferson have a newly remodeled, two-story Craftsman home with a large yard and back garden. Cas drew the plans for the remodel, and over some difficulty with the contractor, he and Kelly became friends.

He’s arrived early to help with set up, but Jody, the organizer — who he meets for the first time — shoos him out of the kitchen, so he gets to spend the time with Kelly. “How are you,” he asks her, “and how’s the baby?”

“I’m good,” she says, “we’re both good.” She heaves a little sigh and fidgets in her armchair. “Actually, I’m a little wound up. I haven’t finished painting the mural in the nursery, and all of a sudden I feel like there won’t be enough time to get anything finished before my baby gets here.” She smooths a hand over her belly. Her expression changes and she gasps, “Oh! Give me your hand.” She takes him by the wrist and pulls his hand toward her baby bump.

He feels her baby kick, all that life, gearing up to meet the world. Cas has to admit, because Kelly has enthusiastically roped him into the experience of her pregnancy, he has become more interested in the idea of having children. It has broadened his outlook.

“Kelly,” he finds himself saying, “I met someone today.”

Her eyes sparkle with interest. “It’s not even ten o’clock yet!” she laughs.

“I met him at the grocery store,” Cas says, shrugging. He smiles, thinking about Dean. His smile breaks as he recalls how it played out. “Unfortunately,” he confesses, “we didn’t part on good terms.”

“Cas,” Kelly mourns. “What happened? Tell me all about it?”

“This beautiful man,” he starts, thinking of Dean, his deep voice and the way he spoke with conviction and certainty. The way he made direct eye contact. The sexy freckles and the shape of his lips.

“Yes?” Kelly prompts when Cas gets lost in thought.

He laughs. “He is… very attractive,” Cas emphasizes. “You know I’m not overly focused on appearances, but Dean.” He shakes his head and looks heavenward. His eyes fall to his hands. He picks at his fingernails. “We almost got into a car accident, and that’s what we ended up fighting about. But before that, we got coffee together and talked, and we exchanged numbers.”

“Well that’s good!” Kelly encourages. “Something sparked between you. You can call him and smooth things out.”

“I wasn’t in the wrong,” Cas grumps.

“No, sweetie. I’m not saying you have to apologize or anything. But you can talk. You only just met. Sometimes first meetings don’t go all that well because of sparks.” She gives him a robust pat on the knee. “I’m rooting for you.” Inching forward in her chair to get up, she sighs, “I miss drinks with booze in them. How about we get some fancy lemonade and pretend it’s rosé?”

“I’ll get it,” Cas says so that Kelly doesn’t have to rise. He enters the kitchen with a hello for Jodi and gets introduced to Patience a moment before she leaves to answer the front door. Cas can hear her greeting the newcomer, and he stops mid-pour when he hears the deep timbre that answers. He finishes pouring Kelly’s sparkling pink lemonade before he musters the question for Jodi, “Is that Dean?”

“You know each other?” Jodi responds with cheerful curiosity.

Patience comes back in, holding up a grocery bag. “Dean came through. I’m going to help him bring in the bags of ice — “

“I can help with that,” Cas interrupts.

“Would you? Thanks!”

The look on Dean’s face when he sees Cas is… not what Cas expected. Dean’s eyes light up, and there is a genuine wonder in his surprise.

  * * *

Missouri’s granddaughter, Patience Turner, waves for Dean to come inside. “Hi Dean! Jody’s in the kitchen.”

“Hiya, Patience. Where can I put the ice? I’ve got five more bags like this.”

“There’s a big cooler out on the barbecue patio,” she says. “Through the living room. I’ll get you some help unloading the car.”

The living room already has a dozen people in it. Dean exchanges salutations with the people he knows and exudes charm at the rest. He shakes out the bag of ice into the cooler, which looks big enough, and scopes out the landing spot for the cake. There is a long table already stocked with plates and plastic cutlery; it has some gifts on it that will need to be moved to join the pile of gifts on the coffee table. Dean registers that one is a white gift bag with unicorns and rainbows on it, stuffed with gold tissue.

Patience is in the entry with Cas.

For a solid beat, Dean doesn’t know what to think, because something in his chest turns over like a big engine revving up. Once the wheels of his mind get going, he still continues standing there like an idiot. “Hey, Cas,” he says.

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas turns and goes out the door. When they reach the Impala, they are alone together, and it is awkward. It is definitely awkward. Cas stands by the trunk, expectantly.

“Here, let me get that,” Dean says. As he unlocks and lifts the heavy lid of the trunk, they are standing too close again. Dean should mind that Cas’s keeps getting into his personal space, but he doesn’t. He wants to get closer. This level of attraction makes him stupid, and he feels the urge to make an offhand comment to sabotage himself.

But then Cas says, “I’m sorry we parted on a bad note.”

“Yeah, um,” Dean answers, “me too.” He knows it’s not enough, not when he’s gotten a second chance. “I mean, I’m sorry, too.” It’s hard to believe it can be that simple, but Cas’s face lights up with hope, so maybe it is. 

“Between the two of us, I’m sure we can get all of this in one trip,” Cas says, and now they have to get moving. Apparently, he is also a pro at self-sabotage. It’s weirdly comforting.

They don’t get much of a chance to talk alone after that. Dean fixes the writing on Kelly’s cake and catches up with Jody, while Cas makes party talk with the people he knows. They chat, but not alone, not until Dean is volunteered to fire up the barbecue and Cas escapes outside with him.

It’s a gas barbecue, and clean. There isn’t much to do while it heats up. “How do you like your burger?” Dean asks, because food is an easy topic.

Cas shrugs. “Well done?”

Dean shakes his head. “A good cut of grass-fed beef, medium rare — that’s a burger to sink your teeth into. Juicy, fresh.”

“I don’t eat much red meat anymore,” Cas says. “I sneak a trip to White Castle once in a rare while.”

“White Castle? You’ve gotta let me make you a real burger, Cas.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Trust the Meat Man,” Dean says, pointing both thumbs back at himself.

Cas squints at him. “You’re very confident in your opinions,” he says.

Dean’s not sure how to take that. “Shouldn’t I be?”

“There’s more than one side to things,” Cas answers.

“A right side and a wrong side?” Dean teases.

“Dean.” Cas gives him an eye roll and a look, a real cut the crap look that delights Dean. He knows he likes arguing with someone who can hold his ground.

“You’re easy to get riled up, y’know that?”

“Am I.” Cas’s tone is flirty.

“Or maybe it’s just easy for me to get your wheels burning,” Dean flirts back.

“How, by disparaging my car?” Cas asks.

Dean blinks. “Your car?”

“You called it ‘crappy’.” He does the air quotes. “It’s not. There’s a lot to love about an old car. As I would think you would know, since you have one yourself.”

“Did you just compare my Impala to your land yacht? How does a guy like you even have a car like that?”

“I like it,” Cas defends.

“It’s still not a Chevy,” Dean says.

“I have never understood the Ford - Chevrolet rivalry,” Cas comments. “They’re not sports teams. It’s bizarre.” He’s serious.

“OK, OK,” Dean responds. “I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he says. He adds on, “It just comes easy to me.”

“So we should just kiss and make up?” Cas asks, making eye contact.

Dean licks his lips. Damn, if that isn’t an invitation.

They both glance at the sliding glass doors and the potential audience inside. “Ah, the garden shed,” Cas starts. “There might be some needed equipment.”

“Yeah, barbecue stuff or,” Dean agrees.

As soon as they are inside the painted shed, they are in each other’s personal space again. There is nothing accidental about the kiss that follows. Cas’s hands grip Dean at the hip. Dean puts his hands on Cas’s jaw. He holds his head and kisses him deeply, eager to feel him. He gets Cas’s lower lip between his own and gently lingers as they explore each other’s mouths.

They make out for as long as they think they can get away with. But the barbecue is unattended, and they know someone will wonder where they’ve disappeared to if they are gone too long.

Dean makes the moment they have last as long as he can. “I guess we should get back,” he murmurs, nuzzling at Cas’s neck.

“Mmh,” Cas makes a noise that could be agreement.

“What are you doing after the party?” Dean asks.

“Probably helping clean up,” answers Cas.

“Funny, me too. What about tomorrow?”

“Well, tomorrow I have to run some errands after work. Grocery store shopping.” Cas’s eyes are twinkling.

“Oh. I see. How about I do the shopping, and cook you a nice dinner? My place?”

“You’re on, Meat Man,” Cas agrees.

* * *