#alsoooo give me your thoughts so far if you have any! how are we feeling about the return of kelly?

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

september 1, 2021 6:15 p.m. basil's restaurant

ten minutes ago

[ktmurphy86] i might be a few minutes late, but i'm almost there.

grant scrolls through the metric ton of messages piling up in his notifications until he reaches the very end, and with a lump in his throat, opens it to respond. or like it. or send a thumbs up like a cool cucumber.

baby steps, he tells himself. one task at a time. the responses to all the messages from family, friends, and former co-workers inquiring about his exam results will come later.

just meet your sister first and–

“you seem different.”

he nearly jumps out of his skin as kelly’s high-pitched voice supersedes his thoughts.

“hopefully in a good way,” grant replies, looking up as he slides his phone off the table and into his back pocket.

it’s been nearly a decade since their last encounter, and he’d still recognize her from a mile away.

kelly’s hair is dyed platinum blonde like always, but now it’s twice as long, and her natural brunette locks–peeking through at the root–are streaked through with shocks of silver. her ice blue eyes are just as piercing, only underlined with tiny wrinkles. she’s still thin, too, but rather rail thin; her sweater dress seems to wear her more than she wears it.

“yes, in a good way.” kelly pulls out the chair opposite him and sits down with her arms wrapped across her waist. the candle between them casts a strange yellow glow over her wiry features. “you look better, much healthier.”

“uh, thank you. you look great as well.”

she half-smiles. “it’s just hair dye and botox. i look old. i didn’t inherit the ageless ó súilleabháin genes, so i'm going grey very early like all the callahans. by the way, you weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“oh, no, no, not at all. i have my car, but i didn’t want to deal with traffic, so i took the subway, but then that also kind of took a while. i pretty much just got here.”

“okay, good.” kelly pauses for a moment, her lips pursed. “well. i thought about what i'd say to you the whole ride over here, and now it’s all gone.”

for a moment, they exchange no other words. they drown in the silence, staring into each other’s eyes and into the past.

she’s surprisingly warm, all things considered. the last time they’d been in the same room–

grant is distracted again from his thoughts, watching as a strange sadness falls across her face. she reaches up at the collar of her dress and tug at it like it’s choking her, and her eyes then drift away to stare at an indistinct point on the table between them.

“it’s weird to see you again,” she admits suddenly, her gaze still fixated far away from him, “i didn’t think you’d message me back a few months ago.”

“to be honest, i didn’t mean to. i replied by accident one night and then just decided to follow through with talking to you. and now i'm here. yeah. um, anyway, why’d you reach out to me?”

“i was on facebook a couple months ago, and one of those ‘look at what you posted this day years ago’ things came up. it was a picture aunt bridget tagged us all in. it was the whole family at one of your high school hockey games, i think your freshman year state championship game.” kelly shrugs. “i didn’t even know any of those pictures were still there. that was a real surprise, given i unfriended and blocked everyone i'm related to on there when i left home after high school.”

grant nods. “a picture of me probably very sweaty and gross with helmet hair made you want to reach out to me?”

“not quite. my kids were with me at the time. we were in an airport coming back from vacation, so they were bored and nosy. ‘is that you? who are all these people?’ i was then immediately caught in my lie; i'd been telling them their whole lives i had no family left, and their only extended family was their dad’s parents.”

“yikes. i'm sure that was awkward.”

“it was,” kelly says plainly, “my oldest kids weren’t happy with the news. they’ve been, um, a little jealous of their friends for having lots of cousins and big family events for the holidays, and it didn’t go over well when they figured out they do have a big family. besides, they rightfully did see it as a betrayal of their trust. if mom lied once, what else might mom be lying about? the tooth fairy? santa claus? the easter bunny? yes, those, too. sorry. also, if you didn’t already guess based on my new last name, i married jack, and…”

“i figured you married him. you’d already been together a really long time even when i last saw you. we all grew up together, and you guys were middle school and high school sweethearts and all.”

“he’s a good guy. as i was about to say, though, jack is very partial to you. he always liked you. he thought you were a sweet kid, and he won’t let me forget what happened between us. so, after the facebook incident, he encouraged me to contact you, if only for the kids’ sake. after living in a huge family, i don’t think it’s all that fantastic, but he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder being an only child, and he doesn’t want the kids to have no one besides his parents in their lives. don’t get me wrong; i will never ever get involved in callahan or ó súilleabháin bullshit again, but i will consider reconnecting with you and letting you meet the kids.”

grant bites into his lip as that nagging anxious lump returns to his throat. “well, why me? why bother getting involved with any of us again after everything? even if it is for your kids, what's your motivation?"

kelly outright ignores his question. “tell me what you’ve been up to for the last, what, eight years? nine years? i don’t remember how long it’s been. you're at least talking to our dad, i hear.”

"how do you know that?"

"my in-laws may not know anything else about you these days, but they've seen you with him around our hometown."

[team-free-will-oneshots]

"Screw people.”

Title: “Screw People.” Requests:  Could you please do a shy hunter reader that’s a bookworm and doesn’t talk much with both him and the reader starting to get crushes on each other - @hford0311 and also; Dean request, if you want. In a bar/club, protecting the reader from jackasses, goes wrong when Dean gets kicked out, expects reader to go back into bar. Reader leaves with Dean? If you want to that is :) - @brokencasbutt67-writer Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: alcohol mentions, cursing, canon-typical violence, sexual harassment Word Count: 3.5k

note; i loved both of these requests and saw them fitting well together, hope u guys enjoy !! (also i was listening to this version of ‘iris’ by the goo goo dolls while writing the ending in the Impala, could be cool to listen to while reading if u want!)

alsoooo sorry this has taken so long to get up, thank you so much to the people who requested this for their patience!!!! xxxx

Masterlist

Finally, you were alone.

The mood was set, scented candles wafting lavender smoke into the air as you settled back onto the bed, a coy smile carving your expression as you turned down the fresh sheets. A blissful sigh fell through your parted lips as you stretched out your arm, fingers grasping and searching until finally, they found it - the object that had been at the back of your mind all day, tinging every thought, spurring every movement...

You pulled the hardcover edition of your favourite book into your lap, a grin splitting your face as you snuggled beneath your duvet and ardently threw open the novel to the page you had marked all-too-long ago. The tantalising rustling of pages paired with the familiar musk of a well-loved book served to eagerly drag you into the story’s depths, and suddenly you felt like a child again; tucked beneath your blankets well after bedtime, eyes straining in the dim light as you hungrily devoured a new story, pages flying as you frantically read, drinking in the fresh plot and bubbling with excitement over the adventures of the characters as you escaped into a fantasy world all your own, if only for a few hours.

The hunting life allowed little time for the simple pleasures of life - between the constantly switching monster of the week, paired with the looming threats that always overshadowed those associated with the Winchester brothers, you’d barely had a moment to yourself in weeks. And so, the moment the boys declared it was time for a break, you were snatching your favourite book from where it had been gathering dust on your shelf, bracing yourself to forget the outside world and the troubles it held, to escape into a world where a happy ending was guaranteed, where you weren’t destined to lose all those you cared for.

That was the beauty of books, you reasoned. You near always knew what to expect. Heroes meeting and facing adversaries, learning lessons about themselves and their relationships, and by the end of it all, finding some semblance of fulfilment or at the very least, closure. And of course, you weren’t one to complain about a touch of romance thrown in along the way.

Life had no such guidelines, especially the hunting life; no promises of happiness, of even making it past the next week. People were even less predictable; at least books were easy to read. Life’s characters were far less easy to understand. Perhaps that was why you insisted on avoiding them as vehemently as you did - books were your comfort, and all people had given you thus far was grief.

“Hey, Y/N, you busy?”

Well… maybe not all people.

You held up your book wordlessly, nose still buried beneath the pages as you ignored Dean Winchester’s query. He chuckled, leaning against the doorway.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked, peering at the cover as he sauntered into the room. You sighed, keeping your page with your thumb as you let the book fall shut around your fingers.

“Old favourite,” you explained. Dean nodded appreciatively.

“Cool. Well, just wanted to say hey - you did a great job on the hunt today, by the way,” he informed you, flashing you a proud smile that had you fighting to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the slight acceleration of your heart. 

“O-oh. Thanks, but… I don’t think it was anything too spectacular,” you protested weakly, a nervous chuckle escaping you as you fiddled idly with the pages of your book. Dean shrugged.

“Hey, you got the job done - Sam and I woulda been toast without you,” he said. “You should give yourself some credit.”

You allowed a smile. “Thanks,” you tentatively replied, voice small. Dean held your gaze a moment longer, eyes heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, before he cleared his throat and ducked his head.

“Look, uh- Sam and I are headed out tonight. Nothing fancy, just headed to the bar, some celebratory hey-we-killed-a-nest drinks, you know the drill. You can- you can come with us, if you want,” he invited. You laughed dryly.

“Thanks, but… I don’t think that’s really my scene,” you said. “Being surrounded by people? Not my thing.”

Dean shook his head in amusement. “I can’t believe how shy you are - you just took out those vamps like it’s nothing, Y/N. That’s pretty damn impressive,” he commended. “You have nothing to be shy about - you’re a total badass. If anyone has the right to be a cocky son-of-a-bitch, it’s you.”

You hid your smile as you glanced down to the book in your lap, fingertips nervously rubbing over the paper, curling it beneath your touch.

“I think you have enough cockiness for the both of us,” you said, sending him a shy grin. He snorted.

“Yeah, maybe. Well, offer still stands - Sam and I are leaving in fifteen,” he told you, straightening up and casting you once last, lingering glance as he headed towards the door. Your awaiting novel itched in your hands, eager to be read, but you paused as Dean hovered uncertainly for a moment by the doorway, as if locked in an internal debate.

“Hey, Dean?” you asked quietly, the words flying from your lips before you could halt them. That was the thing about Dean - talking to people wasn’t always easy for you, but something about the eldest Winchester set you at ease in a way no one else could ever hope to. He turned around immediately.

“Yeah?”

You tore your gaze from his jade eyes, though you felt the raise of goosebumps along your skin as he kept his soft stare trained on you. You flushed, tucking your hair behind your ear, cold fingers discordant against the heat of your cheeks.

“You ever think… sometimes monsters are easier to deal with than people?”

Dean frowned, ambling over to your bed and perching himself at its edge, only a few feet away from you. He shrugged. “Sometimes, sure - but people… people you can reason with. They have… morals, you know? A code. Means they can be scarier, sure, when they decide not to care - but when they do care, it’s…” Dean’s eyes flickered from yours to the ground, and he licked his lips as he chuckled breathlessly. “When you find someone to care about… I can’t imagine anything better,” he said, his eyes darting up to your own. You found yourself locked under the vice of his gaze, his expression softening with a flicker of vulnerability before he cleared his throat and broke the trance. “Why’d you ask?”

You released a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. “I dunno. I guess, just- what you were saying earlier, about being a good hunter? It’s because monsters are easier. I get monsters - most of them don’t think too hard - all instinct, y’know? But people are… people are manipulative. They judge and they hate and they hurt, I just… with monsters, I know what I’m getting. People are a lot harder to trust,” you explained. Dean nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that, but… ah, you’re probably right. Screw people,” he said with a cheeky grin. “But it’s not like you need to stay in contact with everyone you meet. Sometimes fun can just be… fun. Doesn’t need to be serious,” he told you, though there was a trepidatory edge to his playful tone. “You should come out tonight - let loose for once. You deserve it.”

An amused hum fell vibrated in your throat. “I dunno, I’m an all-in kinda person,” you mumbled, and you saw a small smile tilt the corner of Dean’s lips.

“Yeah. Me too.”

You scoffed. “You, really? Mr Different-Girl-Every-Night? You’re a serial flirt,” you teased, and he smiled, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between a fling and actually getting to know someone - I dunno if you’ve noticed, but sometimes it feels like I care a little too much.” His smile died, and he quickly shook his head, throwing up another grinning facade. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your nerdiness.” He cast a pointed glare at your book. “Seeya later.”

Dean left, the bedsprings jumping back into place as he picked himself up from the seat, traipsing through the door and leaving you with sweaty palms and a stomach full of butterflies. You watched as he left, eyes lingering a moment too long on the empty doorway before you turned your attention back to the novel in your lap.

You wanted to read, you really did - but it seemed no matter how hard you tried, the words would blur into an incomprehensible mass that your eyes instinctively skimmed, only for you to reach the end of the page without having understood any of it at all. After a few failed attempts at reading the same few lines over, you sighed in defeat, setting the book aside as you leaned back against the headrest.

Maybe Dean was right - maybe you should give ‘people’ another chance. Maybe it was time to put your incessant shyness and distrust behind you, to ‘let loose’, as Dean had so aptly described it. 

Dean…

You thought of the warmth of his smile, the vibrant ringing of his laugh, the coy smiles he’d shoot you when no one else was looking… the idea of going out was sounding more and more appealing.

And so, you decisively marched to the library, where Dean was grabbing Baby’s keys as Sam shrugged on his jacket. The sound of your footsteps had both their eyes jumping towards you, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of hope in Dean’s surprised expression.

“Hey, uh, I was thinking that I might take you up on that offer, Dean,” you said, extending a wry smile. “Mind if I come?”

Dean’s mouth opened and closed silently, before he finally nodded. “I-uh- yeah, of course!” he exclaimed, just as shocked at your decision to step out of your comfort zone as you were. “What changed your mind?”

You shrugged, looking down at your feet as you scuffed the floor with the toe of your boot. “Maybe I should give people a chance - you’re right, I should let loose every now and then,” you said, tone clouded with false certainty. Dean frowned, but let your uncertainty slide as his concerned expression was replaced with an encouraging smile.

“Great, finally a drinking partner who can keep up with me,” he quipped, shooting a glare at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Hey, someone has to drive you home when you’re plastered,” Sam countered. You laughed, the uneasy atmosphere dissipating as the three of you walked to the car. Dean shot you a wolfish grin, and the warm sensation that buzzed in your chest had you certain that you were making the right choice.

What was the worst that could happen?

---

Turned out, the ‘worst’ had a name - it was Brandon. You knew this only because he refused to let you forget it.

“Come on, sweet cheeks, let me buy you a drink,” he coaxed, words stumbling into one another as his hot breath rolled over your face, reeking of beer as he leaned in uncomfortably close on clumsy feet. 

“Uh, I’m good, thanks,” you replied, throwing him a distasteful, uncertain glance as you took a step back. Your eyes flitted over to the bar, where Sam was talking to a girl and Dean was grabbing drinks for the both of you. Catching your glance, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as he noticed your company.

‘You okay?’ he mouthed. You managed to give him a tight-lipped smile and a short nod before Brandon was dragging your attention back to him.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, baby,” he slurred, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. “It’s just one drink.”

You took another step back. “Like I said, I’m good,” you insisted, though your voice came out small and hesitant. You gritted your teeth as he snorted scornfully, and your hand balled into your fist at your side as he sauntered forwards once more. Though you weren’t necessarily one for confrontation, you had no qualms about putting this asshole in his place. Barely twenty-four hours ago you’d single-handedly taken on three vampires - you were pretty sure you could handle an overeager drunken bastard.

Before you had the chance to put him in his place, however, Brandon was being shoved away from you by a familiar pair of toned arms. 

“They’re not interested, jackass,” Dean growled, taking a protective stance over you that you comfortably settled into. The drunk stumbled back, mouth falling open in outrage.

“Who asked you, huh?” he challenged, and Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he ran his tongue along his teeth. You could see his hands curled into white-knuckled fists at his side.

“I think a better question is; why can’t you take no for an answer? They said they’re good, man. Give it a rest,” Dean spat through clenched teeth. Brandon snorted.

“Mind your own fucking business, dick,” he snarled. “You want ‘em all to yourself, huh? Selfish prick.”

Dean scoffed, shaking his head with a grim smile, and for a moment you thought he was going to turn away… until he slammed his fist into your harasser’s jaw with a hard crack that made even you wince.

When Brandon arose, he was nursing a red jaw and a bleeding nose, but the red fluid trickling across his lips and staining his chin did nothing to mask the pure hatred etched into his expression as he lunged at Dean. The eldest Winchester blocked him easily, grabbing his wrist and slamming his face into a nearby booth table. There was a flurry of movement and shouts as Dean landed another punch to the man’s cheek, pressing him into the table with his arms locked behind his back.

“Apologise,” Dean demanded, and Brandon gasped for air.

“I’m sorry, man, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed. Dean kneed him, and the man grunted in pain.

“Not to me, idiot. To them,” he hissed, nodding towards where you stood with wide eyes and brow half-cocked in appreciation at Dean’s strength as he held the bulky man down like he weighed nothing. 

“I’m sorry! Christ, let me go, please!” he said frantically. 

“Dean, what the hell!” Sam’s voice interjected from behind you, and suddenly a bouncer was peeling Dean from his bruised and bloody opponent.

“Time to go,” he said in a gruff voice. Sam stepped forward, and the bouncer shot him a look.

“He with you?”

“Look, we don’t want any trouble-” Sam began, but Dean made a sound of angered amusement.

“Speak for yourself, Sammy,” he muttered, still glaring daggers at Brandon. Dean caught your eye as the bouncer dragged him outside, and the last you saw of him before he was tossed outside was his cocky wink. You chuckled to yourself as Sam quirked an eyebrow.

“What the hell happened?”

You shook your head, walking to a window and watching as Dean paced before finally heading towards the parked Impala. 

“Guy was a dick - he deserved it,” you said, watching as Dean wiped his bloody knuckles on his jacket. “Look, I think I’m gonna head off with Dean,” you added, and Sam cast you a concerned expression.

“Do you want me to come?” he asked, though you could hear the reluctance in his tone as he glanced back at the girl he’d been talking with, who was still waiting for him by the bar. You smirked.

“Nah, I’m good - you go have some fun,” you teased, giving Sam a playful smile that he sheepishly returned.

“Alright. Seeya later, Y/N.”

Sam left, and you braved the cool night air as you walked to the Impala. The tail lights were on but the engine was off, the car sitting perfectly still in the parking lot. As you approached, the music from the bar echoed distantly behind you, captured by the walls and bouncing hollowly into the darkness, fading into nothing but a thumping bass and a vague suggestion of guitar and vocals.

You tried the passenger door. Locked. You tapped on the window, and watched as Dean leaned across the seat to unlatch it. The moment it swung open you slipped inside, the familiar scent of leather overruling the pollution and alcoholic odour the car park carried. The door fell shut with a heavy click, blocking any lingering traces of music from your ears. 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, hearing only the haggard sounds of one another’s breathing and the light static of the radio. You glanced over at Dean.

“How’s your hand?” you asked. Dean laughed darkly.

“Fine,” he told you, but extended his hand towards you when you raised a quizzical brow. You tenderly took his palm against your own, turning over his fist to look at his knuckles - red and raw and tender, but nothing serious. Instead of releasing him from your grip, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and Dean tentatively raised his gaze to yours. 

“I could’ve handled that guy, y’know,” you told him sternly. Dean ducked his head guiltily.

“Yeah, I know, it was just… the way he was treating you…” He trailed off, a weighted sigh heaving from his lips as he shook his head to himself. “You didn’t deserve that. No one does, but… especially not you. I… got angry.”

You smiled wryly. “Bit of an understatement,” you said, and he laughed, genuinely this time.

“Yeah, maybe,” he allowed. “Look, I don’t think I’m welcome here tonight - I’m gonna head home. Just… give me a call when you wanna be picked up.”

“Nah, I’m ready to call it a night, too,” you said, leaning back into the seat. Dean looked at you in surprise.

“What? What happened to getting loose, giving people a chance, all that crap? Seriously, I don’t think you need to worry about that jackass - I doubt that dickhead will ever approach another person in his life,” he said seriously, and you laughed.

“Yeah, I doubt it - but I don’t think I’m really in the mood to let my hair down,” you replied, amused.

“Wait, what? But we were having such a good time!” he countered, and you met his eyes again, nodding.

“Yeah - we were. Screw other people, Dean. I thought I needed to act like someone I’m not to be happy - someone I thought I should be. But… partying? Being around a whole bunch of strangers? That’s not me, Dean. I… I don’t need to surround myself with people to be happy, it’s not in my nature. I just need… a few people I really care about,” you said, giving him a tiny smile and a pointed look.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he murmured. “Y/N… sweetheart, you never need to make yourself uncomfortable because you feel like that’s how you ‘should be.’ You… damn, Y/N, you might be shy, but it’s frickin’ adorable,” he said playfully, and you laughed, elbowing him gently as you ducked your head in embarrassment, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I mean it, Y/N - you’re… you’re fucking amazing,” Dean breathed, and your laughter died as his eyes found yours again. He held your gaze, and you felt his eyes burning into your soul, piercing through your quiet front and seeing you for you in a way that no one else ever had.

And suddenly, he was kissing you.

His breath was warm as it blended with yours, and he tasted of whiskey and moonshine as his large hand found your cheek, cradling it as though you were something easily broken. His chapped lips bit into your own and your leg cramped up as you twisted to press closer to him, but none of that seemed to matter as you lost yourself in the bliss of kissing Dean Winchester.

You pulled away, catching your breath and taking a moment to soothe your racing heart as you ran your hand along his jaw, his stubble grazing your fingertips as he closed his eyes beneath your loving touch. 

“So… you’re sure you don’t wanna go back in?” he checked, and you giggled, shaking your head.

“Definitely not,” you breathed, your breath fanning over his lips as you leaned your forehead against his. Dean melted against you, his arms looping around your waist and bringing you close to his chest.

“Good,” he murmured, “because I don’t think I can let you go until I get another kiss…” he said, raising a cocky eyebrow. You grinned.

“I think that could be arranged…” you purred, sealing your mouth against his.

Screw people, you thought as you lost yourself once again in Dean’s reverent touch. You had all you needed right here.

__________

Forever tags: @babygirloreo​ @calaofnoldor​ @lmpala97​ @sebastianshoe​ @81mysteriouslyme​ @castieliswatchingoverme​ @kina666​ @liviaolivia​ @simplyxparker​ @helpmeluci​ @demonsofhunting​ @bee-happy-buzz-on​ @lilulo-12​ @amandatar-06​

Dean tags: @polina-93​ @justagirlinafandomworld​ @coupleofgoons​ @justanotherwinchester​ @shadowkat-83​ @teenwaywardasgardian​

If you want to be added to any tag lists just shoot me a message!

[tavi-hayes]

practice challenge ~ journey to the palace

((whoopwhoop, idk how i managed to write this (given it’s quite long and i usually never ever write stuff this long) also please excuse me again for any spelling/grammar errors i try. alsoooo thanks to these wonderful girls: Bethia @h-hart​, Kat @clara-choii​ and Pia @brookelynnsanders​!))

It was silent at work today. The only sounds were the flipping of pages and the ticking on keys of a computer, followed by a frustrated sigh occasionally.

“Maybe we should get some more flutes?” I said, “they’re not that expensive and they won’t take up a lot of space here.”

Lola, being distracted by her laptop, showed no sign that she had heard what I just said.

“Helllooo, Lo are you there?”

“Huh, what?” she ran her hands through her hair as she looked my way.

I lifted the catalogue to show her the flute page.

“No Tavi,” Lo leaned her head on the back of the chair, doing the accounts must have tired her. “We already have flutes, and no one is ever interested in them. They have been here for decades.”

I rolled my eyes, “maybe that is why no one is interested. They look grim.”

Lo refocused on her laptop, and I flipped another page of the catalogue.

Oeh, the bass guitars. My favourite part.

I ran my finger over the page, paying a lot of attention to each one.

There were electronic bass guitars, but also the semi-acoustic ones. Some were very modern-looking with the brightest of colours, while others go for more of a vintage look.

I don’t know if I would ever be able to part with my own baby. The bass guitar, that I now owned, had been eyeing me every day since it had arrived in the store. It had been love at first sight.

But it was such a big investment and I just didn’t have that kind of money.

A part of my earnings was needed for us to make a living, pay the rent and do the groceries for example. And the other part that wasn’t needed for that, entered our savings jar.

We had been saving money since the day my dad was put behind bars. For whatever reason those bars had been in St. George. Freaking St. George.

The province didn’t even have direct borders with Denbeigh, Ottaro was right in between.

That made a simple, but still long, car ride impossible. Not taken the problems that come with the snowy climate into account.

That same climate also caused issues for our only transportation option.

Denbeigh’s climate was hard to predict at times. It could be a beautiful day with sunshine and a clear sky, but then you wake up the next morning to a thick layer of snow.

And because those snowfalls could happen in at least 8 out of 12 months, a lot of planes got cancelled in those months. The only airport anywhere near Winnipeg was privately owned. So the owners could literally ask the prices they wanted for the plane tickets. And boy, they were only focussed on making a profit.

For a simple family of Fives, those prices were unpayable. Hence why we had been saving money for 6 years now, still nowhere near able to pay for tickets. My mom would need a ticket, Daniel and I would too, and we just can’t leave little Aria and Arlan. My dad should be allowed to see them as well. That’s means we already need the money for 5 tickets. But if we include Daniel’s family, with his wife and little Melody, then that would equal 7 tickets.

So yeah, I would never have been able to buy that bass guitar.

Until Lo had a brilliant idea. They would give it to me as my birthday present for the upcoming 10 years. At first, I couldn’t accept that kind of gift, knowing it would have been a huge investment for the Wood family as well. But they insisted, hinting that they would get an employee discount anyway since you know Mr Wood owns the place. So, the price dropped, and they ignored me, so I had to give in and accept. It was the best gift I had ever gotten.

The stores door busted open, “GIRLS!” Gina’s voice took me back to earth. “they’re about to do the draw!”

“What draw?” apparently Lo shared my confusion.

Gina rolled her eyes and grabbed Lo’s laptop from the table. “Wait, I was working! Save it, save it!”

The laptop was put right on top of the catalogue I had just been looking through. Lo ushered over as well.

“Let me just,” Gina had opened an internet page and started typing in the website address of Winnipeg’s number one news channel, WTV. Such an original name.

The news anchor, some middle-aged woman with very fake looking blond hair, appeared on screen. “What is she wearing?” Lo asked, disgust and confusion both showing on her face.

“A track suit, it’s part of her image,” Gina unmuted the laptop, the crow-like voice of the woman filling the room, “now shush, I wanna hear this.”

“… Cameron Porter has been selected for the Illéan national ice hockey team. The star of Winnipeg’s very own ice hockey team, the Winnipeg Belugas, will accompany the national team to the world cup, taking place later this year in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Last week’s draw concluded that Illéa will have to face the German Federation and New Asia in the group stage. The national team’s training will start next week.”

Lo and I shared a look, “this is what you wanted to see Gina?”

“Since when do you care about ice hockey?” I asked, this was something new.

“Urgh, you guys are intolerable,” she silenced us with her finger.

“… and now we will switch to the royal palace in Angeles, to watch the live draw for Prince Arin’s Selection.”

The draw, of course that was what had sparked Gina’s interest. For some unknown reason, the entire Selection had slipped from my mind.

Nevertheless, I felt a little flutter in my stomach. Nerves. Looking over to my friends, I noticed the tense looks on both of their faces. Lo’s hands were clasped together, while Gina’s had disappeared in the pockets of her cardigan.

“Welcome,” some weird voice-over called.

With that the camera focussed on the prince.

“Urgh,” I rolled my eyes.

Lo poked me in the side, laughing, “oh Tavi your distaste is showing.”

“I don’t understand how you can hate someone who is that good looking. I mean have you seen that jawline? Perfection.” Gina had had a crush on the prince for as long as I had known her.

I rolled my eyes again, “I don’t hate him.” The drawing began before I had time to explain myself further.

“From Allens … Idalia Moretti.”

“He doesn’t look very happy,” I couldn’t help but comment, “or comfortable.”

Gina sighed probably annoyed that she couldn’t listen to the show properly, “his engagement was called off not that long ago. That is a pretty hard thing to deal with.”

“Yeah, I see, it’s so hard that he’s having a Selection. Shouldn’t he like get over the other girl first?”

My friends ignored me.

“From Angeles … Emily Rose White.”

This thing was going to take forever. I just wanted to look at the catalogue again, not at that prince, “he’s making me feel uncomfortable, just by watching him.”

Again, no response from either of my friends.

I took that as a sign to remain silent, knowing very well my friends wouldn’t reply anyway now that their eyes were locked on the prince.

“From Dakota … Brooke Lynn Sanders.”

Gina let out a breath she was holding, “okay now is Denbeigh,” she took our hands in hers, “fingers crossed it’s one of us.”

Her hand palms were sweaty, she must really want this.

“From Denbeigh … Octavia Hayes.”

We were all silent for a minute. Then Lo started screaming, Gina joining her. “Oh my GOODNESS!”

“Tavi! You’re going to the palace! You’re going to meet the prince!”

“Yeah,” I was absolutely lost for words. Meeting the prince hadn’t been the first thing that came to my mind, hell it hadn’t even been the second or third thing.

The first thing I thought was: I’m one step closer to getting my dad out of prison. I will be in that freaking library day and night looking for the book that is going to help me. There must be something somewhere about a second opinion on a court order, or something else to annul the judge’s decision.

“Ohhh, I’m sooo jealous of you right now. You are going to meet the prince! And there’s a chance he will fall in love with you and you’ll have beautiful babies.” Gina pulled on one of my curls, it bounced up and down as she let go of it.

“Uhm, I think that particular chance can be redeemed to zero.” I bit my lip, not even in my biggest dreams had I imagined my name would be drawn.

“Tavi, listen. I know you only applied for those laws books, but you need to be friendly to the prince if you want to stay,” Lo insisted, “or else you will be eliminated.”

“And I have to interact with him?”

“There are girls who would kill for a chance of even being in one room with him,” Gina took over, she sounded very serious suddenly. “You’ll meet him that’s for sure, and if you actually try you might make it far enough to earn a date. Just at least try to be nice, okay?”

“Just don’t insult him,” Lo added, “or his family, or the country. Okay, don’t insult anyone.”

The way my best friends were looking at me brought me right back to the good old school days. That was exactly the way teachers had looked whenever I had done something naughty. Which had basically been at least once every day.

“Do you promise?” Lo asked when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to insult anyone.” I sighed, this is going to be so much harder than I thought.

All of a sudden a lot robot-like voice yelled “BREAKING NEWS”.

It just scared the living shit out of me. We turned as one towards the laptop again.

On the screen was that fake blond woman in her tracksuit again.

“Prince Arin just completed the draw for his very own Selection. Some famous girls will be joining him at the palace. Our very own province will be represented by Octavia Hayes. You might have heard of her, given that she is some meekly Five. But her father’s name will ring a bell. Octavia’s father is Caspar H., a dangerous convict in prison for murdering Winnipeg’s beloved mayor Wilfred Wallis. He might have very well passed the criminal gene onto his daughter. Not only is she definitely not a good representative for Denbeigh, but the lives of the royal family might all be in danger.”

“Damn it!” Stupid news anchor. Why couldn’t they just stay out of my family’s business. Now the entire country will be aware of this. My dad’s arrest did make the headlines of some newspapers when all that had gone down. But that had been 6 years ago and I had hoped no one would remember that.

But now it was out in the open. Again.

It didn’t even matter that my dad was innocent. He had already been suffering for it by being locked up far away from our family.

“Tavi,” Lo put her arms around me, “that’s just bullshit, no such thing as a criminal gene exists.”

Gina joined our hug, “you can’t take anyone seriously who wears a tracksuit on live TV.”

*** Couple of days later ***

Dear dad,

My name got drawn for the Selection, I’m going to the palace and meet the prince. Some palace person is coming to pick me up anytime now so I can’t write a lot. Plus, if the mail has already arrived then you will have to wait another month before you get this anyway.

I asked Daniel if he could start writing a monthly letter as well, maybe he can even add a little picture of Melody so you can see her for the first time. He said he will take care of mom, Aria and Arlan as well. Molly will just cook dinner for more people, which she doesn’t really mind doing. At least that’s what she said.

Anyhow I will write to you from the palace.

Lots of love, 

Octavia

Zohl wzw, R’n hxzivw. Tlrmt gl gsv kzozxv, z dslov mvd vmerilmnvmg dsviv R wlm’g pmld zmblmv. Ovzermt nln, vhkvxrzoob mld gszg rg urmzoob hvvnh orpv hsv’h gibrmt gl orev ztzrm. Zmw dszg droo gsv xlfmgib gsrmp lu nv. Droo R gfim rmgl zm lfgxzhg? Zxxliwrmt gl DGE R’n tlrmt gl hozftsgvi veviblmv rm gsv kzozxv, yvxzfhv lu blfi ‘xirnrmzo tvmvh’. Yfg gsv kvlkov dsl olev blf droo zodzbh yvorvev blfi rmmlxvmxv, vevm ru gsv dslov xlfmgib hvvnh gl gsrmp lgsvidrhv. Qfhg pmld gszg dv nrhh blf wvziob. Zmw R droo gib vevibgsrmt R xzm gl tvg blf ivovzhvw. Qfhgrxv zodzbh kivezroh.

*** At the airport ***

The car journey all the way from Winnipeg to somewhere in Sota had lasted for ages. Even though I hadn’t really been aware of that, since I fell asleep as soon as they closed the doors behind me.  

A frustrated voice had woken me up, “can you please stop drooling all over the leather upholstery?”

My eyes flew open, saliva was indeed smeared on the seat. I quickly wiped it off my face, where it had been present as well. “Sorry,” I mumbled, I then realized we had arrived at the airport, I quickly opened the car door and jumped out.

What I immediately noticed was the rain puddle I had landed in. My shoes and socks were soaking wet. Great.

“Maybe you should try to act more lady-like?” the driver said with a very disapproving tone, looking me up and down. He had already taken my guitar case out of the car and was about to put it right onto the wet street. I quickly grabbed the case out of his hands, clutching it close to my body.

The driver sighed, “there’s the entrance to the airport. Inside it will be clear which directions to follow.”

I made my way towards the entrance he had pointed at when I heard him mumble to himself, “why did I had to drive a barbarian?”

As I turned around, the car’s engine had been running again. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, nor I did I really care. I showed my middle finger to the car anyway. Asshole.

Never had I seen an airport before. It was freaking massive, people walking in all possible directions. Some carrying luggage with them, others with balloons that read “we missed you” or “welcome home”.

One day, my fam and I will be waiting at the airport, carrying one of those dumb balloons around. Coming to pick up dad.

I snapped out of my daydream by someone tapping me on my shoulder. “Miss Hayes, please come with me.”

Nodding, I followed the person not really having another choice since I had no clue which way I had to go. Maybe this is some insane kidnapper.

My heartbeat increased; did I just make a stupid mistake?

“Only one girl has arrived so far. You are to wait for the others before you can board the plane.”

Okay, no insane kidnapper then.

Unless.

This is a complete setup created by his crazy brain.

Panic filled my body, damnit how will I get out of this situation.

Okay, if I just push the person onto the floor, that will give me a chance to run for my life.

One. 

Two.

Three.

I took a deep breath in, ready to make the push. But at the last minute the person side stepped which caused me to lose my balance. He looked at me in a very funny way, “please take a seat, the flight attendant will come get you in a few minutes.”

My cheeks turned very very warm, the redness might very well have equalled the red colour of a traffic light.

Trying to calm myself down, I slumped down into a chair. Yikes, only now became I aware of it again. My socks were still wet and cold. Sigh.

After taking a few deep breaths in and out, I noticed the other girl.

“Oh hey, you’re also a Selected?” I started, realizing it wouldn’t be a bad thing to talk to someone.

She turned towards me, “I am Brooke Lynn Sanders, but just call me Brooke please!”

Not knowing what else to do, I waved at her a little awkwardly. “hi Brooke, nice to meet you. My name is Octavia, but please call me Tavi.”

“Nice to meet you Octavia. Did you have a good journey?” I could already tell she did have the lady-like manners I had been lacking.

Oh god, I couldn’t possibly tell her about the drooling situation, so I decided to stick to a vague answer. “Yeah, it was alright thanks. What about your own journey? Which province are you from?”

“My send off from Dakota was a bit bumpy but I am here now. I wish they would have let me take the train though...”

Another girl arrived, also looking very much like someone the prince could end up with. Compared to these two, I was more of a rag doll.

Pushing my feelings behind that wall deep inside me, I waved her over, “oh yeah hi, please join us.”

We chatted some more for a bit, until Haven arrived.

The way she was walking, the only person I had seen walking like that was Long-Beard Logan, the homeless guy who could often be found near New Wave Records. He walked the same way, but he had one wooden leg.

Then Haven opened her mouth, a weird voice coming out, “hi.”

I noticed Brooke shared my confusion, “uhm hello?”

She took out her phone and typed something, it read ‘I’m Haven’.

My confusion hadn’t ebbed away, “are you alright?”

She typed some more, ‘yup:)) just got a bad cold! what are your names?’.

As a response to that we all introduced ourselves again. These girls didn’t seem to be that bad, hopefully the other Selected at the palace were the same. But the chance of that being true was small. Also, why did I care what the other girls were like? I wasn’t there to make friends, with them or with the prince. I had applied for the thing I needed most. Access to the royal library.

“Have you guys ever been on a plane before? This is all very new to me.” I admitted, trying to ease the nerves that had been building up inside me ever since my name had been picked in that draw.

Brooke had a very strong opinion on planes. Private planes more specifically.

Which came as a shock to me. The private plane part. I didn’t know what I was thinking but taking a private plane had never crossed my mind.

In the meantime, Brooke started talking about the CO2 emissions.

“How else would we get to the palace without having an endless journey? It’s not like there’s a teleportation device, right?” I said a little more vicious than I intended. The higher castes used planes all the time, if anyone had a cause in the destruction of our planet it was definitely them.

Brooke definitely had thought of it all, as she mentioned the outstanding quality of the Illéan train system. Clara chimed in to agree with her.

I decided to not mention my exact thoughts about the higher castes, given the fact that I had promised my friends back home not to insult anyone. So I just nodded my head, “yeah okay I understand your point.”

We were able to board the plane shortly after that. Brooke sat down in a window-seat and Clara nestled herself in the seat next to Brooke’s.

I took a chair on the opposite side of the plane, trying to create some sort of privacy for myself without being rude.

Haven sat down in the seat next to me and smiled at me.

The entry door closed; I could no longer contain my nerves. “Here we go I guess.” I tried to calm my breathing, but it didn’t really help. I tried to think of my family back home in Denbeigh, didn’t help either. I heard my dad’s voice in my head, it was like he was actually talking to me, “You are a strong girl, the flight will be over before you know it. Octavia, you can do this.”

A weird sound whisked my dad’s voice away, I looked over towards the source of the sound. It was Brooke choking on her drink. “Please don’t die,” I said. Her dying here would be a shitty start to this whole adventure. Besides, Brooke actually seemed like a nice person.

She coughed, “I am – I am trying.”

Haven mentioned her sibling, how they were close and stuff. She then asked if we had any siblings ourselves.

This provided me with the perfect distraction. I turned towards her, “yeah, I have three siblings. One older brother, a younger sister and a younger brother as well.”

Normally I would never share such personal information with someone I had just met but talking about them was the distraction I so desperately needed from this whole plane situation.

The others talked some more, but I just realized the one and only thing that would get me through this.

Music.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna listen to some music.” I said as I took my earphones out of my bag. “Haven would you like to join?” I asked her politely, given that she was sitting right next to me and it would have been quite rude otherwise.

She smiled at me and nodded, so I handed her one of the earphones. “I do have a very mixed taste in music so you’re in for a treat.” Maybe I could even make her listen to our own music, you know casually extending Five Whispers’ audience.

As a reply, Haven winked at me, “I love a girl with mixed music taste.”

Oh who would have thought, I had something in common with another Selected. I too liked people with a diverse music preference, since music says so much about a person. The quote ‘You are what you listen to’ was on one of the walls of New Wave Records music store. It was also my own personal life motto.

Clara and Brooke continued chatting, but I didn’t listen anymore. The music had taken a hold on me and it had only released me from its grip when the plane hit the ground in Angeles.

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Two Night Stand (Part 3)

Synopsis: (AU) You can’t wait for your contract to end and get that recommendation to get an actual job as a writer so you found yourself at a club drinking away to forget about the stress of your shitty job as the assistant of the biggest Editor in New York, you end up hooking up with the man of your dreams only to wake up to a nightmare when you find out he’s the son of your boss.

PART 2 | 2NS Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I'm sorry I took sooooo long to update this! I just had a writer’s block :(( ALSOOOO, this whole fic is actually inspired by Tove Stryke’s album - SWAY, so check that out if you want to know what I listen to when I write this fic ok bye. (gifs not mine its from tenor)

“This is me,” I say as we get to the front of Winnie’s building. He moves closer to touch my back and was about to plant a kiss on my cheeks, when he quickly realizes we’re on a hazard zone. We both laugh, I bite my lips, he is such a dream.

“Where’s your next appointment at?” I ask, as he fishes his pocket for his phone.

“It was actually the building next to where we did the fitting,” he scratches his head. What?! He sees my surprised face. “I just wanted to spend six blocks with you,” I blush for the nth time. He’s ridiculous, I shake my head.

“You sir are out of your mind,” his head is shyly hanging low.

“I’ll see you soon?” his blue eyes look into mine, does he have magic gems in them? What is wrong with me? This is unfair. I wish I could look at someone with puppy dog eyes and get what I want.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just turn in my resignation letter and we’ll be on our merry way.” Of course it’s a joke. I feel like I’m 12, hiding my middle school boyfriend from my parents. He laughs again, I’m pretty sure passers by look at us like we’re patients fresh out of the mental hospital. Especially with me, I’m probably the one with the stray jacket smiling like an idiot. Now he bites his lips, we both have places to be and yet here we are standing stuck on the concrete sidewalk like lamp posts oddly placed too close together.

“Y/N?” Shit, I whip my head and I see Nat. Holy crap I thought it was Winifred. You know what? I’m too jumpy and nervous that even if it was a grown man’s voice, I’d still think it was Winnie. “Good afternoon, Sir Barnes,” she greets Bucky as soon as she sees who I’m standing next to. She knows who he is?! I work with his mother and I didn’t know who he was. I immediately take a step away from him. Nat raises her eyebrows at me and gives me a suspicious look that says What’s going on Y/L/N? And I reply with a Don’t look at me like that! Look that has my nostrils flaring. I see Bucky try to hide his amused expression. What did he even find attractive about me? Probably my stupid expressions, right.

“I-uh have to go, thanks for helping me, Y/N.” He sneaks in, and in a split second touches my arm before he waves at Nat and I see Vision pulling up the driveway. When did that happen?

“Bye,” I reply as he gives me this look that I know already says a paragraph for my haywire brain. He gets inside the car and they start driving off. I smile like I’m waving off my husband before he leaves for work, like the pearl necklace wearing housewives from the 60’s cereal commercials.

“Why do I feel like you’ve had way too much fun on that errand?” Oh right, Nat. I quickly purse my lips together, blowing air into my cheeks as I try to hide my smile. Nat’s not stupid. Am I high? Is this what it feels like? The smile isn’t going away, my cheeks are filled with air. I shake my head like a five-year old. Nat pinches my side.

“Ow! Hey!”

“You’re gonna get into so much trouble.”

“I’m not! What for?” I play dumb with her, so far she knows the title of this suspicion, and not the content. I’m still safe.

“I saw how you two looked at each other,” okay, maybe she saw a little trailer too. We start walking towards the building’s doors.

“I just helped him with the fitting, he was just thankful for the help,” I’ve said help twice, at this point I might as well add one more, since third time’s the charm, am I right? Nat nods at me, she’s suddenly nonchalant. Wait a minute, that’s it? She quit? Normally, she doesn’t stop until she knows everything. Okay, I’m not complaining. Good, I guess my secret’s still safe, then. We enter the elevator, floor number thirty here we go.

-

*Ding!*

“You what?!” Whoops, guess not.

“Don’t tell anyone! I’ll take care of Bruce’s dog for you!” Bruce is her boyfriend, and he has this french bulldog that he’d ask Nat to walk every night. Nat would rather be staying at home binge watching the making of a murderer than walking that cute hound. She hated that dog. How could anyone hate that dog? Sure he jumps a lot at people, but it’s because he’s excited. He’s a dog, what does she expect it to do? Walk around at home on two feet and wash the dishes?

“Fine, and you better be the one to give him his baths as well,”

“What does Bruce even do?”

“He feeds him”

“Are we a committee? It’s one dog Nat, you don’t need a village to raise a dog.”

“Are you gonna shut up or am I gonna unzip my mouth, because there’s your boss.” Oh shit, I scowl at her. I walk and immediately follow Winifred just before she gets to the door of her office and open it for her. She walks to her table and I replace her coffee with a new one, thank god I didn’t forget to get one on the way with Bucky. She lowers her glasses and peers at me like I’m a parasite.

“Tell me your not wearing that to the dinner meeting.”

“I’m- uh not.”

“I didn’t think so.” she lifts her glasses back up. I sigh, and fake a smile and snarl as soon as I turn my back. My phone beeps, it’s Sam, saying he’ll be ready to pick us up in thirty minutes, I tell Winifred and leave to sit at my desk. I open my drawer and pick a mirror up giving myself a once over. Maybe, the messy bun wasn’t ideal for a meeting at the Eleven Madison Park. I look like a bozo, do people even still use that word? I shake my head. I hear steps behind me, I look to see that it’s Clint. Just the person I need to get me out of this wardrobe disaster.

“Clint!” He turns around, a sudden glee to his face. He already knows it’s for a makeover, he skips in my direction. I laugh at his expression and I lift one of my camisole straps to signal the SOS and he points to the elevator. I give him a huge grin as I follow him to the lift. He presses floor number twenty, my favorite floor; the best floor, to be honest. I’m already excited, and I can tell he is too. Clint’s the art director, he’s the kindest. The moment I got in the View, he’s been a hero to me. He’s really close with Winnie, that’s why I was really anxious around him at first. But he was the only one who ate with me the first lunch I had in the building and even gave me a tour, and showed me all the ropes so I didn’t have to be such a nuisance to Winnie, not knowing where each department was located and what they did. The elevator doors open and I gasp, I feel like I’m in heaven. Racks of clothes, shoes and bags all over the whole floor. This was a luxury I could never see myself have in a million years.

“Come, sweetie let’s fix-” he gestures his hands over me like he’s swatting a fly, “whatever that is.” I shake my head and smirk.

“I’m ready.”I blow air up the strand of hair that’s fallen in front of my face.

Everytime me and Clint are together, he always tells me the best gossip. I rarely have any to share, but I’ve definitely been more observant of our coworkers. We’re at the aisle where the dresses are all lined up neatly. I see this gorgeous white off the shoulder dress that’s fitted. Clint sees me eyeing it, and pulls it from the rack. I put my hands up,

“Oh, no. I can’t wear that. I might stain it, and I definitely don’t have the money to replace that.”

“Honey, it’s all yours. I didn’t even know we still had this, it was for a 2015 photoshoot with Natalie Portman.” I almost trip, I’m I really serious about this? He pushes the dress onto me.

“Just wear it.” It’s not like I didn’t have a hint of disdain for it, he didn’t really have to ask twice. I ran to the dressing room and hope it fits. I pull my hair tie letting my hair snake behind my back. Okay, this looks really good. I’ve never really worn white before, and now that I’m pretty much checking myself out in the mirror, I think I’ll wear white more often. When I open the dressing room curtains, I see Clint holding nude stilettos, he’s literally my fairy godfather. I hug him tight, and I break free when he taps my shoulders, “oops, sorry. Too much?”

“Too much,” he replies.

“You’re. The. Best.”

“You owe me-”

“I know,” I kiss him on the cheek, thank him and say goodbye. I think I’m gonna have to start making a list of people I owe. I make a quick stop at one of the vanity tables at the far end of the floor and put a light dab of makeup on my face. Mostly just highlighter, lipstick and mascara. I steal a few pumps of the perfume on the table too, what good would it be working at the View if you couldn’t take advantage of the makeup lying around the styling department? I give myself one more look in the mirrored wall, and then click on the elevator buttons, now we wait. When I get back to my desk, I grab my iPad and a notebook just because, and stuff it all in my bag. I check everything, Winnie included. Sam’s already texted me that he’s already downstairs. I open Winnie’s office doors just as I see her standing up, and she gives me a smile- it looks like a genuine one. I tried to look into what it meant, it can’t be a real smile. Does she know I stole Natalie Portman’s dress? Holy shit she’s probably going to fire-

“Someone’s finally looking like a real employee,” she says as she walks out the door, I clutch the door handle tighter. Did she just compliment me?! Oh my gosh I wish I had it all on tape. This is never gonna happen again. I nod and am not even sure if I should thank her, she might think I’m too low if I thank her for that, that was definitely a compliment. I close the door and lock it, and when I turn around, she’s staring at the bag sitting on my desk. It’s the canvas tote bag, there goes my compliment, gone in a second.

“Go back inside, grab my black Louis Vuitton hand bag, borrow that,” what have you done with my boss?! “And throw this dust rug out,” there’s my girl.

I open her office door again and go inside to get the bag, I can’t wrap my head around this. Is this really happening? Is she high? What is going on? I see the bag on her shelf and grab it, it’s light, I open it and voila! It’s already empty, okay no need to declutter. I clutch it and leave the room. As soon as she sees me lock the door for the second time, she’s started making her way to the lift. I grab my tote and dump everything into the Louis Vuitton. I can’t believe she’s letting me borrow her bag, surely this has to be broken, maybe there’s a hole in it. I jump when I hear her voice interrupt my silent inspection.

“It’s in perfect condition. Don’t - ruin it,” yes, ma’am I gulp.

-

“Hi Sam,”

“Good evening Winnie,” he nods his head at her. “--hot damn!” he says when he looks to greet me, I nudge him with my shoulders and laugh. He opens the car for us and we drive to the venue. I open my iPad and scroll through the people that will be present at the meeting. Winnie doesn’t really give a damn about remembering names, you only ever need to know hers. Looks like Ken doll’s gonna be there too, that’s neat. Lowkey wished he was there too. I mentally smack myself, I’ve had way too much of him already, I’m being so selfish. Or am I? It’s not everyday you get to meet a guy like him. Okay focus, I scroll through the agenda and the topics that will be addressed for the meeting- hmm, so there’s an announcement. Oh boy, Winnie does not like to be surprised, this better be good. In a few minutes, we arrive and Sam opens the door for Winnie while I help myself out. The place is perfect, the ambiance warm and elegant. Sam parks the car and I follow behind Winnie. The host immediately ushers us to the table, located in one of the far corner of the restaurant, the perfect place for privacy.

As soon as we near the table, a man dressed in a very expensive suit stands up and lowers his shades, of course he’s wearing shades at night, and indoors, beside him is a statuesque blonde angel. I raise my eyebrows and lower them quickly as I whisper onto Winifred’s ears.

“Tony Stark of Stark Industries and Pepper Potts, the new CEO,” Winnie fakes a smile like I’m telling her something else as Tony removes his shades and the two of them hug, she hugs Pepper just after. He helps her to her seat, and before he sits on his, he gives me a once over. Okay, big guy. I speak onto Winnie’s ears like I’m her conscience, but instead of giving her advice on how to be a more decent human being, I’m telling her people’s profiles. By the time I’ve finished introducing everyone to her seated around the table silently, not wanting them to know Winnie is completely unaware of who a lot of them are, it’s probably been 20 minutes. Food has started being served, and I’m allowed myself a salad, before Winnie judges my eating habits. The last time she saw me eating, it was at my desk, sneaking bites of my cheeseburger, she looked like she wanted to puke.

“What’s the announcement Stark?” her voice is cold.

“Don’t wanna wait until dessert?” Stark replies.

“I don’t do dessert, sugar is the devil’s work.” Well Winnie, if you really wanna know what the devil’s work is, you might want to look in the mirror.

“Okay, I want to sponsor the View’s annual fashion ball.” I almost drop my fork, I immediately grab the glass and drink water, not wanting to be asked my opinion. Winnie’s paused, she’s silent, but she suddenly huffs, a small chuckle escaping from her lips.

“What do you want this year’s theme to be? Bolts and screws?” Stark’s the lead innovator for technological advancements, Winnie’s such a drag.

“I thought the Winnie could make fashion out of anything, bolts and screws too hard for you?” I can hear the mortal combat narrator saying “fight”. Tony raises his glass, Winnie smirks at him.

“Very well, what purpose does it serve to sponsor this year’s ball?”

“I’m venturing out into other things,”

“Fashion being one of them?”

“Winnie, when have I ever looked bad?”

“Well you did have this one time where you wore that ugly-”

“Besides the point,” I hide a giggle as I lowered my glass to continue munching on my greens. “I’m trying to reach out to new demographics, and it’s good PR, trying to fix last year’s bad run,” he continues chewing on his steak. Last year was a mess, his prototypes were stolen which was ironic considering his inventions were designed to ensure safety and security. Getting those stolen without the alarms going off in his own house, doesn’t really speak reliable. I already know Winnie’s gonna accept the offer, it’s her plan all along, she’s had one of Stark’s board members talk the idea to Stark, and Winnie uses drama to spark attention to her projects. Looks like Stark’s gonna be this year’s headliner. Tony bids a quick goodbye right after Winnie says yes and leaves Pepper to handle anything else, and the meeting continues and I’ve noticed Steve isn’t here yet, that’s not good, Winnie’s not gonna like that. Dessert’s already on the roll and I try to ignore Winnie’s glare when she sees the waiter put down a slice of cheesecake in front of me. I deserve this, let me be woman. As I take a chunk in, I hear one of the other people in the meeting ask Winnie.

“I heard your son’s in town, will he be attending the ball?” I immediately bite the spoon at the thought of him.

“Of course he would,” Winnie answers as a matter of factly.

“Any idea who his date might be?” my stomach drops, now that’s sad. He’s probably not gonna ask me, I mean who even am I? We’ve just met last night, and I can already see every hollywood tabloid making all sorts of nasty titles if he brought an unknown to the red carpet. Why am I even thinking about this? Of course he’s not gonna ask me, I’m a nobody, and hello? Earth to Y/N? We’ve known each other for what, two days?

“Probably the girl he was caught kissing by the paparazzi,” a woman from the other end of the table sneaks in. Wait what? Why that motherfucker, I knew it! He’s such a playboy, why did I not see that coming?

“Who? When?!” I hear Winnie, she’s shocked too. I fish for my phone, and immediately ask good ol’ google who exactly this girl is. I start typing his name.

“Her identity’s still a mystery to me, I thought you’d know Winnie. Looks like young Barnes is keeping secrets from his mother now,” oh you bet, he is, who could this woman be?! This morning?! He probably went out with someone before he came by Winnie’s office.

“It was just this morning, I saw the photos on Twitter too,” the guy chimes in. I’m scrolling rapidly on one of ET’s website, and I gasp. Winnie looks at me and raises her eyebrows, probably wishing I was dead for sneaking a gasp in between their conversation.

“Sorry! I don’t hiccup like normal people.” She rolls her eyes at me, I’m glad she let’s it go and immediately goes back with her conversation. I quickly exit my browser and put my phone in my bag. I’ve seen the photo, of Bucky and the girl he was kissing. She was wearing an orange camisole, denim jeans with her hair in a bun and her hands on Bucky’s shoulders. My heart jumps out of my body. Winnie can’t see that photo. I am dead. My face wasn’t seen, my back was turned to the camera, but I’m now time travelling through earlier events in my mind, did she know what I was wearing?! Okay, I came to her office, with the coats from Balmain, so I was covered, right? And when I excused myself out of the office, she didn’t even notice me that much since she was so focused on her dear Bucky. And now, I’m wearing this white off shoulder dress… Holy fuck, “Tell me your not wearing that to the dinner meeting,” my jaw drops, her voice repeats through my head over and over again. She’s seen me, in those exact same clothes, in that exact same hairstyle. I wished I was a different skin color right now, that would’ve saved my ass. But no, my palms suddenly feel sweaty. I’m thinking of what I could do. This is not happening, not yet. Oh my gosh, I can’t even think straight. Great, now I have to keep Winnie from ever seeing those paparazzi photos, which would be fucking hard because she’s got eyes everywhere! I’m surprised she hasn’t even seen it.

“If she’s got her back turned, what good would it be for me to look at it?” WHAT? I’m gonna start putting fruits on the altars of every religion I know. I’m thankfully confused, I have no idea what just happened. Why does it feel like I’m gonna get away with this? “She’s probably just one of my son’s models.” Okay this is gonna sound very contradictory, but 1) models? She thinks I’m a model? No wait, she hasn’t seen the photos; 2) his models?!

But being in this situation, sitting next to Winifred, iPad on my lap recording the meeting for me to type the transcript on my laptop later, Bucky’s sort of fading away, he sure is an eye candy… well, an actual candy… But my fear of Winnie definitely defeats dating him. These two Barnes are pulling me on two opposite directions, and I’m whacked not knowing where to go, I’m not so excited about meeting Mr. Barnes now, which direction is he gonna pull me into? I try not to even imagine. My heart is still pounding like crazy, Winifred wins - for now. Maybe try not to walk and kiss him in public, Y/N? That’d be great.

“Well Winnie, looks like the tabloids are not gonna let that paparazzi photo slide,” Pepper chirps in. No Pepper, shhh, be on my side, I thought you were an angel? I’m having your wings cut. She looks like she enjoys this topic. A voice jolts my body just as I try to grab my glass to have another drink.

“One week and I’m already the talk of the town.” I pull my head up slowly as if a camera’s zooming in to capture my blank expression. I’m wiped clean, how many emotional roller coasters do I have to experience? I want out. Of course, he’s here, of course.

“James!” Winnie kisses him on the cheek as he takes a seat just in front of me, great. Steve quickly follows behind him. “Steve,” Winnie grunts, “where have the two of you been? We’ve already finished the meeting!’

“Had something to turn in the office, I borrowed Steve for a bit,” Bucky replied as he gave me a wink, I kick him from under the table and gave him a quick stare. He looks to his side laughing. Steve takes the seat beside Winnie.

“Learn to look at the time James, and Y/N” I look up way too fast, “just email the transcript to Steve after you’ve done it.” I nod robotically.

“So who is it?” Pepper’s voice hums in the air.

“Who is?” Bucky answers, as he calls a waiter.

“The girl in the pap photo.” Pepper smirks.

“They’re that fast?” I’m about to burst into flames, in 6 months, I thought I’ve gone through the worst working in the View, but this boy right in front of me, has been giving me both heaven and hell. He really wants me to get in trouble.

“Stop making it longer than it has to be,” Steve interrupts, I look at him and see him smiling right at me. Oh. My. Gosh. He. Knows. I feel like my makeup has peeled off my face.

“Why don’t you guys just mind your own business?” he laughs as he points an accusing finger at Steve and shakes his head at Pepper.

“Guess Bucky’s already booked for this year’s ball,”

“Only if she agrees,” Bucky replies as I feel his feet playfully swinging at mine underneath the table. Oh my, here we go.

PART 4

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