#did you know that if you get an a car accident alone in virginia you get a reckless driving charge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

literaila · 4 years ago

Text

we work so well between the lines

spencer reid x reader

warnings: angst. cause... thats all i can write. theres a lot of anxiety mentions, and panicking so if thats triggers you just click away..... again its pretty shitty. please enjoy.

Y/N was still working.

Lately, it seemed, she’d been working later and later, with barely any space between each report she filled out. She woke up and got on her computer, she worked until late afternoon when there was no chance of her ignoring the monster in her stomach, and once she was finished eating she was back to work. And then at almost one in the morning she went to sleep for four hours. Then woke up and did it again.

It was an unorganized schedule.

She ignored her phone, ignored the different notifications coming in, ignored her friends who kept asking if she was busy, if she could come out that night. She didn't have the energy to answer them, didn't have the energy to focus on anything but work.

She stayed in her pajamas all day, her hair was greasy and her skin was dry. She was too busy working to take a shower.

She was waiting for a phone call, just one. She was waiting for him to call her, waiting in the living room that they shared, in the apartment that was theirs, waiting for him in the home that they had made together. She was just waiting. She missed him so much.

Y/N pretended she wasn't. She pretended she was just so caught up in her work, she just had so much work to do, she just couldn't be doing anything else. The work needed her, she thought over and over again. She pretended that working, and barely eating, and not showering, and just working in a house that hadn't been cleaned in days, she pretended all of that was normal.

She was so good at pretending.

There was a part of her- the part that wouldn't shut up in her mind, that wouldn’t just leave her alone. The part that refused to pretend with the rest of her- that knew something was missing. Knew that she was still waiting for a text, a call, even an email. But the same part of her knew it wouldn't come, knew that she was just pretending, knew that she was such a bad liar.

She didn't pay attention to that part.

She put it out of her mind. She pretended there was nothing she was waiting for, nothing at all.

And there wasn't anyone she was missing.

***

Spencer was exhausted.

The case was exhausting.

His job was exhausting.

He felt like laying down and never waking up. That's how tired he was.

It stayed silent on the plane ride home, the entire team had been gone for almost two weeks. Two weeks of non-stop working, and new bodies, and screams. Screams that danced around their heads, and images they never could seem to forget.

None of them had enough energy to joke, or play cards, or even bother talking about the case.

Two weeks was scary for all of them, it was hard to be away from their families, from their own beds. It was scary to think it took them two weeks to find a murderer, it was sad to think about all the lives that were lost in the process.

Spencer was ready to get home, ready to feel the comfort of his bookshelves, and his soft bed. He was ready to get out of the hotel. He was ready to sleep without having to think about the murderer that was still running loose while they were sleeping.

It was late when they finally arrived back in Virginia, the sun had fallen, and you could barely see any stars.

None of them bothered saying goodnight, there was an unspoken agreement between the teams that they were just going home. They all just wanted to get home.

Hotch and JJ had their boys to tuck in, it was hard for both of them to be so far away from their babies for so long.

Derek and Emily wanted to get the last two weeks off of their minds, they wanted to relax within their own homes, a place where they both felt safe.

Penelope was safe at home, snoring while she slept, with no nightmares for the first time in days.

Rossi had not been as affected as the rest of the team, used to staying away from home, but he was ready to get back to his kitchen.

And Spencer was just ready.

It took effort for him to stay awake on the drive home, almost dozing off more than a couple of times as his eyes begged to be shut. Eventually, he made it though, back to his apartment that he hadn't seen in two weeks.

He was ready to see Y/N, ready to talk to her, to see her face, to feel her skin. He was ready to sleep next to her again, ready to feel her body heat, ready to wake up to her face. Ready to sleep.

It was terrifying to leave her alone in their small apartment for two weeks, terrifying to be so far away from her. It was so hard not to call her all the time, to check up on her, make sure he was okay. But he did, and he was sick of it.

He just wanted to see her.

He missed her so much, it was a constant ache in the bones, in his blood, in his mind, reminding him of just how much he missed her. Reminding him of just how often he was gone, leaving her all alone.

He needed to see her.

***

It had started when she was little. It started when her parents started leaving her alone.

When they would go out, sometimes with their friends, sometimes for work, sometimes to get dinner, when they would leave her all alone.

She wasn't good alone. She wasn't good at being left alone.

Her parents never knew what happened when they left. They never knew how she would lock each door and every window, over and over again, just to make sure she thought, just to make sure it's all okay. They never found out about the phone she used to call 911 when she heard a creak in the walls, when she was worried there was something wrong. They never knew about the 911 dispatchers who had to reassure her, they never found out about all the times she called them. They never knew that she would sit at the window, watching and waiting for their car to come home. They never knew about the panic attacks she would have when someone knocked on the door, when someone wanted to talk to her.

They never knew about any of it.

Her anxiety had always built up the longer someone was gone and had always been a big hole in her chest that would only get bigger with time.

She learned how to cope, she learned how to stop worrying, how to make sure no one ever knew about how much she worried.

It had taken years to stop freaking out every time someone walked out the door.

When she was 16 she thought she had it under control. She thought she had filled the hole so far, so high that she would never be afraid of someone being gone again.

She was wrong.

She was so so wrong.

The hole stayed with her, buried in a place she couldn't reach, getting deeper and deeper with each day that went by.

She hadn't heard from Spencer in a week.

***

Spencer had attempted to be quiet when he got home, even with how tired he was he didn't want to wake his girlfriend up. She needed her rest as much as I do, he thought.

He was putting his shoes next to the door and hanging his satchel up when he noticed all the lights were still on. He didn't pay any mind to it, figuring Y/N had left them on when she went to bed on accident. His eyes were drooping and his back felt like it was going to collapse, so he quickly hurried into their bedroom.

Spencer dropped his bag on the floor, planning to unpack it and do laundry when he didn't feel 10 minutes away from passing out. He smiled at his girlfriend who was lying in bed, sleeping softly. He climbed into the covers with her, pulled her close to him, smiled, and fell asleep.

***

Someone was touching her.

Someone grabbing her.

Someone was behind her and she was wrapped under their arms, and they were squeezing her, and she had no idea who they were, she didn't know them someone was holding her.

It was too tight.

Y/N tried to push against their arms, tried to move them away, far far away, so far that she wouldn't be able to see them, she just wanted them to go far far away.

Spencer could feel something pushing his arms, but he just figured Y/N was moving.

It was only when she started screaming he woke up.

She was screaming, and she was telling whoever was holding her, holding her against them, holding her against her will, she was telling them to just, just get away because she had no idea who they were and she just wanted them to get away. Just get away.

Spencer didn't know what to do.

He let her go and tried to sit up but she was faster than him. She was jumping out of bed and crawling across the floor in a matter of seconds. Her face was red, and her breathing was rapid, and her hair was a mess, and her face was terrified, it was terrified and Spencer didn't know what to do.

“Y/N…” he said while walking toward her, walking toward his crying girlfriend.

She started screaming again as he got closer.

“Okay! Okay Y/N... I won't come any closer. I’m not going to move any closer baby.” He said softly, he just wanted her to stop crying, to stop screaming he just wanted to go over and hold her, but he was just barely awake, and his mind wasn't quite functioning normally.

“Get out! Get out! You need to leave- I- I- I need- I need” Y/N said as she started to gasp, as her voice got caught, and she was grabbing at her throat, and pulling her hair, and trying to breathe, she was just trying to breathe, but she was scratching at her skin, and hyperventilating, and she couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.

She was scratching at her skin, trying to get it off, trying to breathe, trying to get away. She was going to hurt herself.

“Y/N! Don't-” Spencer said, much louder than last time, as he tried to take a step toward her. But he could see the way she recoiled when he had just barely moved, he could hear the way her breathing had gotten even faster, and she was staring up at him like he was a monster, and so he stopped. “Y/N hey I need-” he swallowed trying to get her attention “I need you to stop doing that you’re going to hurt yourself-”.

But Y/N wasn't listening, her ears were pounding and all she could hear was beeping, just loud beeping right in her ear. And she still wouldn't couldn't breathe. Why wouldn't her body just breathe?

She gasped again.

“Y/N Okay, okay I’m- fuck- I’m going to, I’m gonna- “

It was then that she started gasping out words.

“Spencer- I need- I need! I need I need I need- Spe-” And she was still trying to breathe and she was still trying to speak, and Spencer was still trying to figure out what he could do if he couldn't touch her, he just wanted to fucking touch her and he couldn't, and if he could just hold her if he could just grab her and and help her if he could just-

“Spencer! I need I need-” a pause to gasp again. “I need Spencer! I need my boy-” gasp. “Boyfriend- he- he just- where- where-” she tried to catch her breath again, she tried to breathe just one more time “where is he!? Where did he go!?! He said- he said-”

And she was staring at Spencer, she was staring at her boyfriend, at the man she was asking for, and she was scared, and she was angry and Spencer felt himself crumble at his own name.

She’s calling for me, he thought, she's calling for me but I’m right here and what can I do, what can I do, I’m right here, he said over and over again in his mind.

And Y/N was still staring at him, still not looking at him just staring, still gasping, still clawing at her own skin, still waiting for him to do something.

“Y/N, I’m right- I’m right here. Y/N, baby, it's Spencer. I’m right here.” He was staring at her, hoping she’d understand, hoping he could go over and hold her and just hold her.

It seemed as if Y/N was struck out of her gaze, and she was looking Spencer up and down and she was actually seeing him now and she finally managed to gasp out

“Spencer.” and her voice was rumbling, and her hands were shaking, but she looked relieved now, and Spencer could tell so he went to her.

He went to her, and he grabbed her face, and she gasped again but even louder and it seemed the air was finally making its way to her lungs, and she grabbed at his hands which were still on her face desperately.

And all Y/N could think about was how Spencer was finally there, he was there and he was fine, and she was fine and he was there.

Spencer held her face in his hands, and wiped her tears with his hands, and kissed her forehead over and over again, feeling immensely relieved that he could finally touch her, that he could finally just touch her.

Y/N was still crying, and she was clawing at Spencer's shirt, and he took the hint and he moved to pick her up.

And he held her. He held her so tight the world was finally in focus and Y/N knew exactly where she was, and she knew that he was okay, and she could breathe, and the hold was being filled with each breath they shared.

He tried to ask her what was wrong, but it only caused her to cry harder, so he just held her, he just basked in her warmth, and tried his best to make her feel better. Tried his best to just be there for her, to just hold her.

They stayed like that for several minutes.

Both of them breathing slowly, and together, Spencer holding her and stroking her hair, and repeating “it's okay, it's okay, it's okay” over and over because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

And she was breathing, and she was fine, and she wasn't scared anymore, and they were just breathing together, just holding each other.

It was a while before they decided to move off of the floor.

Spencer gently tapped her shoulders, and softly said “let's get up sweetheart” and it took Y/N a moment to recognize the words, it took her a minute to nod. Spencer let go of his tight grip on her, and together they stood up.

Y/N was dizzy and Spencer had to help her walk. He helped her lay down, and went to his side of the bed, and held her under the covers, and stroked her hair, and just listened to her quiet breathing.

They both laid there, content with just calming down, with just taking a moment to breathe from their bed and think separately.

Y/N knew she was going to have to say something, she knew that she had to say something to him, had to explain what had happened, that she couldn't just hide her anxiety in a box and shove in a room to never be discovered again. She couldn't do that anymore. But she wasn't going to be the first to talk. She wasn't going to talk if she didn't have to.

She wasn't the one who made the choice.

Spencer, who was just thinking about her, thinking about how he’d never experienced something like that with Y/N before, thinking about how he must have been missing something because there was clearly something wrong, he was the first to talk.

“Y/N? Are you… are you okay?” he said softly in her ear, trying to not push her any further, he knew she must be exhausted.

Y/N's voice was sore, and her muscles ached from exhaustion, and her chest still felt tight, but she finally managed to answer “yes, I’m fine now.”

“You- you weren't fine though.”

She didn't say anything, just nodded against his chest, breathing him in.

“What happened?” he asked after a moment.

Y/N swallowed and could feel tears pricking at her eyes, tears that she refused to let out. “I- it's just been a- I didn't realize you were home.” They were the only words she could bring to her head, and she still had no idea how to explain anything that happened.

Spencer didn't understand, and he wasn't satisfied with that answer.

“I’ve come home before late at night… you didn't-” he paused trying to find the right words “this has never happened before.”

Y/N could feel herself nodding but she still had no idea what to say. She still had no idea how she was feeling.

“Can you tell me what happened? I’m- I’m not trying to push you… but we can't just leave it like this.”

“I just-” Y/N sighed, moving away from Spencer to sit up. If she was going to have this conversation she was going to do it right. “I haven't heard from you in a while, and I was worried, and I didn't- I didn't know you were coming home, and I thought you were someone else- and I was just- I was just scared.” her voice was shaking as she explained, and she was picking at her nails trying not to look her boyfriend in the eye.

He was frowning, looking down at her hands and trying to think. “I don't understand, I- We’ve been talking, and you were scared? I don't-”

“You haven't texted me in a week, Spencer.” Y/N's voice was hard, filled with some frustration and some confusion.

“Yes I- I’ve-” Spencer was looking at her shocked, thinking, trying to remember when the last time they talked was. “I have- I have?”

“No. You haven't. I haven't heard from you since you told me the case wasn't finished, last Friday.” Y/N was looking at him now, looking at the way his entire face fell as she explained, watching the way his eyes winced almost as if he was in pain.

“I didn't- I was-”

“And I know you were busy with a case, and I know that I wasn't as important, I understand that I really do-” Spencer tried to cut in but she kept going “I was really worried though, I had no idea what you were doing or what was going on or when you were coming back or if you were okay. And I was just really worried, and I was trying not to be because it's not your job to make me feel okay and I- '' her rambling was cut off my Spencer's harsh tone.

“Yes, it is.” He stared at her, his face unmoving.

“No, it's not Spence and-”

“Yes, it is. Of course, it is. Jesus Christ, you’re my girlfriend! It's my job to make sure you’re alright, and even if it wasn't I can at least take the time to text you!”

Y/N recoiled at his angry tone, even though she knew none of it was directed at her.

“Oh Y/N... no, it's just. It's okay, I’m not going to hurt you-” she nodded at his words, still watching him trying to figure out what he was thinking “ it's just, I can't believe I didn't even text you. God, I'm-”

“Spence, I’m not mad. Really I'm not mad, I’m just I’ve always been so terrible at being left alone, and usually, it's fine, but I don't know- I was- just so anxious and I couldn't stop it and I was so worried, and I knew you were just working that's” she swallowed trying to let her mind catch up to her mouth “that's why I didn't call you.”

“I wish you had I-”

“No, work was the most important thing, I didn't want to bother you.”

Spencer was looking at her shocked, just completely shocked that she could ever say something like that.

“Y/N.. you’re the most important thing. You always are, you’re the most important thing in my life. And you could never bother me, especially not with just a phone call.”

It was Y/N's turn to look shocked, she didn't expect that type of reaction from Spencer.

“Don't look so shocked, please. You are my favorite person. You are the only person I want with me at all times. And I’m sorry we’re apart so much, I’m sorry my job takes me so far away from you.” Y/N could hear the desperation in his voice, could see the honesty in his warm brown eyes.

“It's okay Spencer, your passion for your job is one of the things I love most about you. And when we’re apart for so long, it feels amazing to be together again.” She brought his hands up to her lips and kissed it as a way to show her belief in the words she was saying.

“I never want you to feel anxious about me. I want you to call me when you’re worried, I want you to tell me everything because I care about you. Okay?” He asked looking right into her eyes.

“Okay.. yeah… okay.” She said looking down again.

Spencer grabbed her face and brought it to his so they were looking at each other again. They were so close, and both of them felt their heart speed up at just the proximity of the pair.

“Okay?” Spencer asked, almost in a teasing voice, trying to make sure she understood completely.

“Okay.” She said as she brushed her lips against his feeling like she was home for the first time in weeks. They were both restless as their lips moved against each other, Y/N could feel Spencer's hands hold on to her face desperately, trying to keep her as close as possible.

They broke apart and smiled at each other. Spencer looked down and frowned, and Y/N looked down with him.

They were both frowning at the red marks on her chest, the scratches that she had made, the dried blood that was there reminding them of how desperate she was to escape.

Spencer rubbed his thumb over the marks, feeling terrible for everything that had happened.

Y/N looked at him frowning and moved his chin so he would look at her. She smiled at him softly in reassurance, in a message that it was okay, that it wasn't his fault.

“How about we go take a shower?” he asked, looking at her again, not smiling but not frowning “I’ll help you clean up, and I’ll wash your hair?”

Y/N smiled even wider “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Spencer said, a smile finally reaching his face and making Y/N world so much brighter.

“Yeah.” She said, and she kissed him again, just so they could be close.

my masterlist here

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons #matthew gray gubler #emily prentiss x reader

1K notes · View notes

negans-savior-complex · 3 years ago

Text

Plotted starter for @wrathfulmercy

Negan hadn't been in New Orleans in years. Hell, he couldn't even remember how long it had been since his parents had last dragged him from his hometown in Virginia all the way to Louisiana to meet up with family there. Felt like a lifetime ago now.

But now he was here and it looked exactly like how he remembered. Sure, things had changed in twenty or so years but he had spent so much time wandering these streets as a kid and a teen during one of those lengthy family trips in the summer and winter, he didn't think he could get himself lost even now.

Of course he hadn't talked to anyone in his family since the day he'd fled home, neither his family in Virginia nor the ones here. He didn't know how they were doing, just like they probably didn't know where he was, or if he was even still alive. After all, he hadn't left home in the best of conditions.

He was doing better now, a lot better, but he still felt no desire to reconnect with his family. They were part of his old life and there was no room for them in the new one. It was probably best that way, the life of a hitman wasn't exactly the safest, so he was better off alone, keeping contacts to a minimum. It was what worked for him.

That was why he was here. Simon had sent him the info on a new target about a week ago and now it was his job to track down his target here in New Orleans, learn their schedule, set up a plan and carry it out, make it look like an accident. The target was some kind of bar owner, who supposedly had been sleeping with the wife of a friend. It was the same old story he'd heard so often before and Negan didn't particularly care for the details on a personal level. Just on a professional one.

A good hitman was one that came prepared.

Either way, he expected to be spending at least a few weeks here, if not longer, before he was ready to make his move. That left him with plenty of time to kill, no pun intended.

Negan took another deep drag of his cigarette and closed his eyes, letting the acrid smoke settle into his lungs, lingering for a handful of seconds before he blew it back out, smoke drifting away on the gentle breeze. Dropping the stub on the asphalt and snuffing it out with the heel of a heavy biker boot he rose up from the comfortable seat of his motorcycle with the heavy creak of leather and swung his leg back over to stand next to it, peeled off his gloves and stored those along with his helmet in one of the baggage compartments.

Fuck, he loved this bike. Sure, he'd gotten it secondhand a few years ago and it had still cost him a fortune but goddamn... what with all the traveling he did, he couldn't imagine doing it any other way. Cars were seriously overrated anyway.

Pocketing the keys Negan turned and peered up at the quaint little flower shop in front of him, welcoming and friendly looking. Flowers in every size and color were laid out in vases and pots filled with water in front of the windows outside, on either side of the entry way, little tags with handwritten prices stuck in the soil or clinging to the thin plastic film wrapped around the stems. The air was thick with their sweet scent, all cloying together and Negan didn't think it would be all that better inside without the fresh air, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd bought flowers for anyone, sooooo...

Yeah. He was here to buy flowers. Fancy that.

The little bell on the door jingled happily when he stepped inside and wrinkled his nose to resist the urge to sneeze, the scent of flowers and damp earth assaulting his nostrils. There were a few other people inside but he ignored them and looked around. Jesus, where to even begin? There were so many to choose from! Fuck, he felt so out of his element here-

“Can I help you?”

Negan almost jumped out of his jacket and whirled around on his heel, blinking at the young girl in front of him with wide open eyes. She wore a light pastel green shirt with the shop's name embroidered on the front in a neat cursive font, marking her as an employee. “Uh- yeah, probably. I uh...” Clearing his throat Negan scratched at his stubbled jaw and gestured towards the wall lined with more colorful flowers then he could shake a fist at. “Um... what kind of flowers would you give to your favorite aunt on her birthday, from her favorite nephew she hasn't seen in years?” Because yeah, even though he wasn't interested in reconnecting with family, Auntie Isabelle lived here in New Orleans and she really was his favorite aunt.

And he really was her favorite nephew. He could at least sent her some flowers even though he wasn't planning on actually showing his face.

The girl's warm smile widened and she nodded. Aw, this poor but very tall and handsome stranger who looked so lost and out of place in their little flower shop... of course she'd help him! “Well, lilies always do well in a birthday bouquet, they represent happiness and positivity. Roses too, and gerberas are very cheerful.”

… okay? Like he knew what the fuck a gerbera even looked like. Wasn't that some kind of rodent or something? “Y'know what?” He raised both hands with his palms facing forward, an abashed smile flashing across his features. “You clearly know what you're talkin' about so... how about you put something nice together that you think will work? I trust your judgment on it.”

“Oh, of course! I'd be happy to! Would you like to write a card for your aunt in the meantime?” She gestured towards the counter and Negan followed where she pointed, spotting the small stand with little pastel-colored cards in flowery print and nodded. Yeah, that was probably a good idea.

“I'll do that. Thank you, darling.” He flashed her a warm smile and she watched as her handsome customer walked over to the counter to browse the little cards they had available, breathing out softly before she too turned and reached for the lilies. Oh, she'd always secretly had a thing for bad boys and he was cute.

#Negan Smith #Rick Grimes #Regan #hitman au #Lucky Shot #wrathfulmercy

13 notes · View notes

themuseic · 4 years ago

Text

Only Fools (Chapter 12)

(Art credit: @clumsycopy)

Fic Summary: Sent to Boone County, West Virginia on an assignment, you find yourself engulfed your work. How could you possibly find time for anything else? Even if “anything else” includes the tall, kind, and handsome bartender from down the road?

Word Count: 4.1k

Read Chapter 11 here.

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: Sad Times Still, Hospitals, Mention of Needles, Mention of Medical Procedures, Storms, Anxious Feelings, A Fuck Ton of Crying™.

A/N: Hellloooooo. Okay just some housekeeping - as it stands, OF is plotted to be 14 chapters. We’re in the home stretch y’all! As promised, there is a brief summary of last chapter below the cut for anyone who may have sat it out because of the content. Thank y’all for reading, love youuuu.

Chapter 11 Summary: Still reeling from the fight with Clyde, Reader goes to collect the data and footage alone. There, she crosses paths with and is attacked by one of the cougars she has been studying. Luckily, Clyde finds her and is able to save her, whisking her away with the help of Mellie and Sylvia to get her wounds treated.

~~~

Clyde Logan did not like hospitals.

He had tried to avoid them ever since his own accident, all those years ago in Iraq. He was perfectly happy to get patched up by Sylvia if he had a run-in with a rogue piece of glass from a shattered cup at the Duck Tape or if he had a cough that he just couldn’t quite shake. But in his recent memory, the only time he had stepped foot into the sanitized halls of a hospital had been for the birth of Sadie, that wonderful, joyous day. He remembered how Jimmy handed over the little bundle that held Clyde’s niece, and how she had smiled and babbled up to him, bringing a small tear of happiness to the corner of his eye.

Today wasn’t like that.

~~~

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The steady thrum of the heart monitor was torture. Clyde had listened to it mark time since his darlin’ had been rolled out of surgery to repair her ankle, and that had been hours ago. Tubes of substances unknown to him seemed to sprout from every part of her body, and he felt his eyes starting to water for what felt like the thousandth time as his gaze wandered over her prone form from where he sat in the chair in the corner. Any other person would say that those eyes hadn’t been dry once.

Clyde leaned forward in the creaky wooden chair and his right hand drifted up to cradle his face. He looked at her through his middle and ring finger, the digits framing his view of her. His horseshoe ring felt particularly cold against his face and he sighed deeply as he stared, waiting for her to wake up.

“Hey, Clyde.” A soft voice beside him startled him out of his thoughts and his eyes flicked to his side to see Mellie crouching beside him, her hand resting on his leg.

“Mel,” he nodded in recognition, his voice skipping in his throat. She squeezed his knee but didn’t say anything else. Clyde was happy to remain like that; the feeling of her thumb rubbing his knee and the sound of her breathing was comfort enough for him.

“Have you eaten-” she began, but Clyde spoke at the same time and cut her off.

“S’my fault,” he whispered, his eyes not leaving the bed once.

Mellie’s brow scrunched up and she frowned. “Oh no, Clyde this isn’t your fault. You didn’ do anything,” she tried to assure him as she rubbed his knee a little harder. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I didn’t tell y’ we got in a fight last night,” Clyde whispered as he shook his head, still cradled in his hand. “She wouldn’t’ve been out there by herself if we hadn’t. Wouldn’t have...” he trailed off as his eyes drifted shut in an attempt to curtail the water that was gathering in them.

Mellie’s forehead softened and she pushed a strand of hair out of Clyde’s face to tuck it behind his ear. “Clyde, you don’t know what would have happened. And it doesn’t matter anyway. You found her, you got her help. She’s safe now,” she reassured him as she rubbed his bicep.

“She’s so hurt. I don’t know how I’ll face her,” he whispered, unable to tear his eyes from the girl in the hospital bed. Clyde’s lip began to tremble again and the water clinging to his lash line started to spill down his face. “I’m sorry, I gotta…” Clyde was left searching for the right words, a quest he quickly gave up as he stood up and left the room, desperate for some air and some privacy. His long legs carried him away from his sister swiftly, and Mellie was left alone standing in the hallway, helpless as she watched the broad back of her brother fly out of the doors to the hospital.

~~~

“I’m sorry, I gotta…”

Your eyes began to flutter open as you heard sounds of distress in your room. Your attempt to swallow was a feat in and of itself, the action rough and painful on your dry throat. Carefully, your eyes began to crack open, just in time to catch the sight of Clyde fleeing from your hospital room, Mellie hot on his trail. Your heart sank.

Of course he was here to witness you, broken and helpless, laid out on the cold hospital bed. You squeezed your eyes shut. If he had any shred of respect for you, it was surely gone. You had torn his heart clean in two, and now? He couldn’t even look at you, let alone be in the same room as you.

You were sure of it.

As tears started to roll down your face, your breathing picked up and so did your heart. Soon, nurses descended on you, ready to take vitals, take readings, and take care of you. You didn’t want to speak to them, to look at them. They set to work around you as your head fell back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. The pokes and prods of their needles and probes pricked your skin, but you didn’t hiss your breath didn’t catch. They could do anything to you, but the pain wouldn’t register.

It paled in comparison to the pain nestled in your heart.

~~~

The next day, after a restless night, the doctors discharged you. You had no reason to stay in the hospital longer; your antibiotics had been completed and your fever was long broken. And anyway, with Sylvia so close to you at the hotel, you would be able to get all the treatment you would need from her. As you sat on the edge of the bed with your back hunched, you breathed in and out slowly, trying to center and collect yourself. The dull pain in your side throbbed with each beat of your heart.

You heard your name called from the doorway and looked over to see a nurse standing with a clipboard. “You ready to get out of here?” she smiled softly, gesturing to the wheelchair parked at her feet. You gathered the strength to return her smile, and nodded. She wheeled the chair over to you and helped you hobble into the awaiting chair.

The overhead fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes, and you blinked tightly to adjust to the glare. Sooner than you had thought, you were at the sliding double doors that made up the entrance of the hospital, and the kind nurse pushed you over the threshold and into the crisp air.

Your heart clenched when you saw who stood before you, keys in hand, ready to drive you home. Clyde gazed down at you, his stare unwavering and unreadable. There was a pit in your stomach and you shifted in your seat. “Hi,” you breathed. He sniffed and nodded at you. “Ready?” he asked, his feet shuffling slightly on the concrete.

You chewed on your lip. “Is it okay if you drive me back?” you asked, looking down at his shoes.

He exhaled through his nose and jerked his head towards the parking lot. “C’mon.”

Between the bulky cast around your ankle and the stitched tears in your side, walking, even with the aid of crutches, was out of the question. The nurse followed closely behind Clyde to wheel you towards the car parked out front. The ridges in the gravel and small pebbles that you rolled over caused the chair to vibrate and jerk. You seethed at the pain that shot through your side with the movement, and you pressed your eyes shut, breathing shallowly through your nose.

You were still focused on your breath when you realized you were no longer moving. Your eyes fluttered open and you found that you were sitting right next to Clyde's grey car, and he was standing in front of you, his back pressed against the swung fully open door.

Before you had a chance to try to pull yourself into the car, Clyde slipped his arm around your side and lifted you up out of the chair and into the passenger seat. You could feel how your face began to warm at the gesture, embarrassed that you needed this kind of care to get into a car, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. A soft “thank you” left your lips as Clyde buckled you in tight, and you were answered with a small nod.

The drive back was silent, safe for a sniff or cough here and there. You snuck a few glances at Clyde, while his gaze remained straight ahead. As you rolled your head to the side, you sighed and tilted your head into the window to stare at the trees flying past. The blur would have put you in a trance had you not been desperately trying to sort out what had happened the morning prior.

The doctors had asked you if you knew what had happened, and you had nodded in response. You didn’t want to know the gritty, embarrassing details. You didn’t want to sort through those memories alone and cold in the hospital bed.

But in reality, your mind was jumbled, your memory a whirlwind of snippets and memories. You could see the attack clearly, almost too clearly if you were honest with yourself, but you couldn’t put together what had happened after. A glimpse, a whisper of a memory formed in your mind, but the only thing you could ascertain from it was the memory of pain and burning. You remembered someone trying to soothe you. You shook your head, clearing your mind, and opted to stare out of the car window instead.

The glass of the window rattled your head as you leaned against it, gazing out the window at nothing in particular. A large sign caught your eye.

“Clyde, the hotel was back there,” you muttered, refusing to look at him.

“Y’aren’t going back to the hotel,” he replied, his stare fixated on the road ahead of him.

“It’s okay Cl-”

“Stop, fighting me.”

Your breath caught in your chest, and you didn't respond. A soft sigh sounded next to you, and you didn’t turn either.

~~~

Back at the trailer, Jimmy, Sylvia, and Mellie were already there to greet you, ready with blankets, food, and a stash of medical supplies so large, you reckoned it could keep you stocked for years to come. The minute Clyde helped you through the threshold, Sylvia and Mellie corralled you into the bedroom. They helped you out of the clothes drenched in the sterile hospital smell that clung to you and coaxed you into the large bed with soft touches and soft voices. After Mellie had helped settle you as much as she could, she squeezed your hand and left, leaving you alone with Sylvia.

She plumped the pillows around you and set out a glass of water on the nightstand as she listed off what the doctor had told you before you had been discharged. She recited your medicines, when she wanted you to take them, and how. You couldn’t look at her. Your gaze remained on the covers of your bed. Your heart constricted at that thought. Not your bed. His bed, you reminded yourself. You had made sure of that.

You had done this to yourself. You didn’t deserve Sylvia’s pity.

She whispered your name and with light fingers, she tilted your head up to hers. You allowed yourself to be posed and stared at her with eyes void of emotion, lest you break down in front of her.

“Did you get that?” she soothed, her brow furrowed and the concern in her voice wildly apparent. You flicked your eyes back down and nodded so shallowly, it was nearly imperceptible. She tsk’ed at your apathy but didn’t push you. You were thankful for that.

Her hand moved into your line of sight, palm outstretched, with a small pill in the center of it. “Here sweetie,” she muttered. “It’ll help with the pain.” You shook your head.

“Really, you’re going to be in a hell of a world of pain if you try to wean off so soon. Don’t punish yourself.”

You shook your head again.

“Take it,” a voice rumbled through the doorway.

Your eyes flicked up to see Clyde leaned against the threshold to his room, his brow furrowed and his mouth turned down into a deep pout. As much as you didn’t want to hold eye contact, his deep, piercing gaze would not allow you to break away. His jaw set. “Take it,” he urged again, jerking his chin towards the painkiller Sylvia offered you. You moved silently as you reached out to accept the medicine and swallow it.

The movement forced you to tear your eyes from Clyde, a gesture came at just the right time. You could feel the sting of tears you refused to spill bite at the corners of your eyes, but turning away meant he wouldn’t see them. You blinked them away before you looked back at the doorway, now empty.

Sylvia shuffled at the bedside table with your medicine and extra bandages, prepped to be changed as needed. She took your temperature again before she turned to the door… and paused. She turned back to you so slowly, you thought she was moving through syrup, though it easily could have been the effects of the painkiller already setting into your muscles.

Her soft and warm hand enveloped yours where it lay atop the plush blanket of the bed. Soft and warm, her eyes found yours. You could see why Jimmy had fallen for her. She was a particular sort of comforting, the kind that thrived in the medical field, the kind that made patients calm and made them feel safe.

If you didn’t deserve her pity, you didn’t deserve her comfort either.

“Dear, we want you to get better. Please let Clyde help you,” she whispered, caressing your knuckles with her thumb. “He was a complete wreck when he called us after he found you. He loves you so much.” Her words and her touch only made you feel worse. Each swipe made your stomach twist, each pass was another reminder that you had done this to yourself, and each word a reminder of what you had done to Clyde.

You shook your head and slid your hand from hers, the motion sapping what little energy you had left from you. You settled back into the pillows set around your head, your eyes refusing to meet hers. Sylvia’s mouth set into a thin line and she tsk’ed once more as she sighed out of her nose. “Alright. Call me if you need me.” She gathered her things and stalked towards the door before the small “wait,” whispered into the room stopped her. She turned back to look at you.

Quietly, and without making eye contact, you breathed a small “Thank you.” Sylvia’s features softened and she smiled. “Get some rest,” she whispered. And with that, she left you alone in the room.

Unable to toss and turn and pile up the nest of pillows that you so loved to sleep with, you stared at the ceiling as you sought out rest. The light in the room was still a golden shine streaming in from outside. It was far earlier than you would usually retreat to the comfort of bed, but between your healing body, the energy you had already exerted, and the painkiller you had taken, you were racing towards sleep, towards that quiet oblivion. Where you wouldn’t have to think of the fight, the attack. You wouldn’t have to picture Clyde’s face, so downtrodden and utterly disappointed in you.

If you could have taken it back, you would have.

But now the closest you could get to him was through hearing the lowered sounds of his voice talking to his siblings, to Sylvia. You couldn’t make out what they were saying in the living room, and the harder you strained to hear, the more jumbled the words became. They swirled in your head, and you couldn’t tell who was speaking at once, the cacophony of noise painfully quiet and horrifically overwhelming all at once.

You fell asleep to the sound of it.

~~~

When you awoke next, you realized your body hadn’t moved an inch in your slumber. The voices down the hallway were absent, and the golden light that had once filled the room had long since faded beyond the horizon. Instead, a silver haze drifted over the space, illuminating the walls softly.

It was silent, save for the heavy rain that danced across the roof of the trailer, a steady thrum that buzzed through the trailer. The muffled voices were gone, and the air in the house was still. You stared, with laser focus, up at the ceiling. You closed your eyes and pretended as if the rain could wash away the disgusting feeling you harbored deep in your stomach. As if it could wash away the memory of how you had treated Clyde, how you had pulled him along for months with no promise of a future. Maybe, if you were lucky, it would wash away his memory of it all along with yours.

Your thoughts were split in two by a large crunch that fell upon your ears and you jolted. You knew in your heart that it was a branch falling, cracking under the oppressive weight of the water that fell from the sky. You knew that had to be it. But a small voice, speaking from where it resided tucked away in the back of your mind, piped up. It could be anything, it taunted, jeering at you for your scare.

You tried to push the startling noise from your mind and fall back asleep, but that comfort remained just out of reach. The whistling wind brought a chill to your bones, and the noises that splintered through the forest brought you back to just a few days before. Each noise was a beast, a predator stalking you through the night and into the haven you thought you had created in the trailer. A shudder ran through your body at the thought.

You were embarrassed, but you couldn’t be left alone with your thoughts much longer. You swallowed thickly and pushed out a small noise over the lump in your throat.

“Clyde?” you called, your voice hoarse with sleep.

You were answered with a soft snore. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Clyde?” Your voice broke.

You heard a hitched breath and the sound of shuffling. In just a few seconds, Clyde was at the open door, dressed in only a hole-pocked sleep shirt and a pair of boxers. He strode to your side in a few easy steps, flicked on the lamp on the nightstand, and gingerly laid his hand on your forehead, his face serious and his brow knit together tightly.

“What’s the matter? You in pain? D’you need me to call Sylvia back over?” he muttered, his eyes darting over your face. The golden light of the lamp illuminated half of his face and accentuated his sharp features knit together in concern.

You shook your head and dragged a shuddering breath into your lungs in a feeble attempt to steel yourself. “I can’t go back to sleep.” With a slight strain of your neck, you pushed your forehead up into his palm and your eyes squeezed into slits as tears began to gather along your lash line. “Will you sleep with me?” you whispered, searching his face. For any expression of his thoughts. Your lip trembled.

He flinched and his warm flesh left your head. He was taken aback by your request.

You should have known better.

The sharp sting of rejection shot through your spine and you shut your eyes, unwilling to bear the sight of the devastating heartbreak that could follow your next utterance.

Your voice wavered. “Please.” You were met with silence.

A heartbroken sob threatened to wrack your body when you were given no response until suddenly, the bed creaked and dipped under an unseen weight.

Instead, a sob of relief broke from your chest.

“Oh shh,” Clyde hushed as he hooked his left arm around your head, his right hand reaching across your body to palm your thigh and shift you close into his side without aggravating your newly stitched wounds. You pressed your lips together in a feeble attempt to stifle the noises that rattled in your chest as you turned your head to press into the refuge of his armpit.

Clyde’s right hand slipped under your shirt to trace patterns into your skin and stroke your side, his fingers dancing at the edge of the gauze that was plastered to your body. There was pressure on your hair. He whispered soft assurances into your scalp, nuzzling his nose into your hair as he let you shake against him. “Shh, baby, shh. You’re alright there, you’re okay,” he crooned. “You’re safe now.” A ragged sob broke from your throat, as you collapsed into him.

And finally, finally, you let yourself break.

The embarrassment, the guilt - it all came gushing forward with the same force as a dam splintering under the pressure of the water it was designed to hold back. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you choked out, barely able to speak over the snot and tears that streaked your face. You knew you were making a mess of his shirt, but each attempt to suppress your sobs did nothing but heighten them.

“Shh, sweet baby.” Clyde cooed, pulling you tight against him. Taking great care to avoid agitating your wounds, he pulled you up onto your uninjured side so you could bury your face into the crook of his neck. His hand wrapped around your torso to swirl small circles into your back. It would have felt incredible if you could feel anything besides the constricting pain in your chest as you dragged air into your lungs. As you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, he breathed in deep, forcing your body to rise and fall in time with his breaths.

“Darlin’, c’mon, I need you to take a breath,” Clyde murmured as he pressed kisses to your hairline. “Can you try to do that for me?” You dragged shuddering breaths into your chest between your cries, trying your very hardest to match his breathing, but spitting and sputtering over every breath.

Clyde didn’t seem to mind. He rained soft shushes and small kisses onto you as he cradled your shaking form. He would hold you like that forever if you needed it; if he could.

Eventually, you began to still. Your breathing evened out and your tears stopped racing down your face. Clyde shifted his body down to be even with yours and leaned his face in to kiss the tear tracks and stray droplets from your face before he nuzzled his face against your own. The moment you had the strength to speak, you did.

“Clyde, I’m so sorry-” you started. He cut you off immediately.

“Shh, baby. It’s alright.” He squeezed your shoulders and kissed your temple. You shook in his arms and stuttered your head back and forth. “No Clyde, really,” you tried again. He caught your lips in a soft, swift kiss.

“No. You don’t have t’ think about that right now. Anyway, you were right, you told me what you wanted. I’m sorry I didn’t respect that.”

A sob jumped in your throat. His words were tempting you to spill over yet again. You tried to whisper his name, but could only manage a high-pitched rendition. “Clyde, I was so unfair to you. I still am sorry,” you whispered breathily, barely pulling sound and tone over your strained vocal cords.

He sighed slowly and dipped his head to kiss the corner of your eye, pulling the salty water drops that clung to the skin of your face away on his lips. “Thank you, darlin’. We can talk about it more later,” he soothed. Soft fingertips swept up and down your back. “I want you t’get some sleep. Can’t have you spikin’ a fever again,” he cooed to you as he peppered kisses along your hairline.

You sniffed and nuzzled deeper into the solace you found between his neck and shoulder. With a careful wiggle, you maneuvered your body so that every part of you that could be touching him was, the knowledge that he was with you bringing you comfort by itself. He folded his body around yours.

It was warm, safe. He was warm.

Safe.

“Will you stay?” you muttered, the warmth radiating from his body beginning to pull you towards sleep already. You had been so anxious to distance yourself from Clyde, and now you couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving for just a second. His right hand tensed on your back and he squeezed you closer. “Always, darlin’.”

The rain pattered over the roof of the trailer, a dull hum that danced across your ears.

The designs he traced over your skin lulled you to sleep.

~~~

Taglist: @mind-p0llution @thedivinemissm @clydesducktape @finn-ray-nal-beads @ladygrey03 @desiraypark @1800-fight-me @hopeamarsu @kkysolo @clumsycopy @mylifeisactuallyamess @daydreamsofren @mariesackler (Comment or message me to be added or removed!)

#clyde logan x you #clyde logan x reader #logan lucky #reader insert #only fools #my writing #cw: hosptials #cw: medical procedures #cw: needles #cw: storms #cw: anxious thoughts #cw: crying #omg so much damn crying

47 notes · View notes

theconjugationofyeet · 5 years ago

Text

Iron Dad AU Fic Recs

this is gonna be kinda long

Stark Industries: An American Workplace by fourdaysofrain

“No, I don’t--” The corner of Peter’s mouth twitches down and he looks at something behind the camera. “Mr. Stark doesn’t treat me any differently than the other employees. I don’t know why everyone says he does.” He tugs his sleeve down his wrist and looks to the side. “I’m the receptionist, so he has to talk to me more to like, plan his calendar and stuff.” --- The Office!AU (For the "AU: TV/Movie" square in Irondad Bingo

We’re Alright by writing-in-my-spare-time

When billionaire Tony Stark comes into the cafe late one night to get his caffeine hit, he finds barista Peter busy doing homework. The homework is quite advanced and right up Tony's alley, and the two hit it of immediately over their shared love of science. But when a masked gunman interrupts their bonding session, Tony knows he'll do anything to make sure Peter is alright.

Prompt: Modern Day/No Powers AU

Apartment 43B by @ironfamjam (my most favourite author ever)

After Peter gets stabbed clean through, he knows he can't let May see. His genius plan? Sneak into his best friend's apartment and clean himself up.

The problem?

It's the wrong apartment.

Enter Tony Stark, the ex-CEO that disappeared off the face of the earth three years ago, armed with his handy little first aid kit, custom made coffee machine, and witty anecdotes.

Somehow, the breaking in becomes a habit.

Irondad Bingo Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Walking The Grey Line by ALittleBattyLady

When Ben Parker dies in his arms, a little piece of Peter dies too. At age 14 he's spiraling down into a hole of emptiness and just can't seem to move forward. Then he accidentally texts the wrong number. Tony thought he could handle whatever the world threw at him, but Steve's betrayal was something he hadn't expected. Months later he's still struggling to pick up the pieces. Then after a wicked bender, he wakes up with a text from a stranger.

They've built themselves a world that exists within nonsensical messages, where Peter finds a father figure he never expected and Tony finds himself worrying for a kid who shouldn't have to suffer so much. Still, the world still exists outside of their bubble of texts. The Avengers have been broken apart, the Accords are nowhere near perfect. Peter's uncle is dead and he's about to be thrown into a world of heroes.

What started as a chance meeting through a strayed text is about to turn into so much more.

AKA The Wrong Number Irondad Au no one asked for, but received

If You’re Going Through Hell, Keep On Going by @baloobird

In a world with no superheroes or powers, Tony Stark turns over a new leaf after his plight with Afghanistan. He goes to therapy and it changes his life, so much so that he decides to open up his own practice and help people that are like him.

His newest client: Eight-year-old Peter Parker

Little did he know that he would actually become attached to one of his patients

What Occurred In Raychester Castle? by @fictionart

Lord Anthony Stark is the Earl of Raychester castle. He inherited it from his father when he died, and soon he'll be married to the lovely Lady Virginia Potts. His life the perfect example of Victorian values, everything was going the way it should have.

Until one day, one of his lower servants worms his way into Tony's heart, and introduces him to a world Tony knew was there, but had never seen, and challenges the very way he viewed the world.

Yet, it doesn't feel like such a mistake.

---

Or a historical AU of Tony Stark and Peter Parker set in 1890s fictional Britain, where Tony is an Earl and Peter is a lowly servant.

Our Pages Flipped In Reverse by @ciaconnaa

Fifteen year old Peter Parker makes headlines when he's captured in a terrorist attack during a Sokovian science convention. Three months later, he's a household name when there's reports he busted out of a cave in some ridiculous iron suit.

With a miniaturized version of Tony Stark's infamous arc reactor in his chest.

Naturally, this means the two have to meet.

Intern Spider by @justme--emily

Penny Parker applied to the pilot Stark Industries internship program before she got her powers. But when Mr. Stark becomes her personal and superhero mentor, she'll have to get creative to keep the two identities separate...and secret.

ever in your favour by @iron-spider

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him.

“Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”

He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

A Tale As Old As Time by @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars and @femalemarvelfanatic

A selfish man gets cursed into a metal suit, and only a little boy with a dark past and a heart of gold can break the curse. It’s a tale as old as time.

peter’s stars by @parkrstark and IronPengu

Steve and Peter lose their apartment and are kicked out on the streets. Steve has to juggle between jobs to earn whatever money he can, take care of his son while refusing to let him realize how much they're trouble in, and keep them warm and safe on the city streets in winter.

So, he really doesn't have time to date the billionaire that flirts with him everyday as he buys his cup of coffee. Even if he did, he can't let himself fall for the man. Because if he knew that he lived from a backpack and showered in a public bathroom there's no way he'd still want him...right?

Make Way For Tomorrow by @tonystarkstan

Before Ben died, Peter won a booth to present his project at the Stark Expo. But even on the run from the foster care system, he can't pass up the opportunity to attend and show the world his project. It all goes so well, until it doesn't. Trying to avoid being caught, Peter runs out on Tony just as the man is about to make him the offer of a lifetime.

Bold of him to assume Tony won't try to find him.

It All Comes Back To This by @tonystarkstan

After a car accident leaves him hanging somewhere between life and death, Peter must decide whether to stay or die. The answer isn't as easy as he thought it'd be. Luckily, he has his friends and the Avengers there to help him figure it out.

Have Patience, Quick Wit and a Gentle Heart by @ironfamjam

“I’m your fairy-” he scowled, looking pained, “you know what, no. I’m not going to say that. It’s ridiculous and not even accurate. I don’t know who invented those fairy tales you humans love so much, but they’re beyond terrible."

"Wait..." Peter tried to hide his grin, "Are you my fairy godmother?" he laughed, unable to stop no matter how hard he tried.

The man glowered. "Watch it kid. I could turn you into a frog instead."

The Irondad Cinderella AU one person asked for

More Ancient Than Magic by ironfamjam

Life isn't exactly normal when your Head of House is also kinda your father-figure and his daughter is kinda sorta your little sister.

It's also not normal when the bad guys your real-life-war-hero-not-actually-dad defeated in The Great War threaten to return and you're still just trying to finish your Charms essay.

But Professor Stark asked him to protect Morgan. And that's what he's going to do.

Even if it breaks him.

The mini Hogwarts AU

The Case Of The Sinister Spider

In New York City, Peter Parker finds his entire life up-ended when he gets a phone call informing him of May Parker's tragic accident. But when new evidence comes to light proving foul play, no one in the NYPD will give Peter the time of day.

No one that is, except genius consulting detective on probation, Tony Stark. But Tony has his own demons to fight. Struggling to maintain his sobriety after a tragedy in London forced him overseas, Tony learns that what mends hearts might not be at the bottom of a bottle, but something like a string of unsolved murders and perhaps even love.

Or, the Elementary AU no one asked for

Only For A Little While by eccentric_artist_221b

Exploring the relationship between Tony Stark and Peter Parker if they had been passengers aboard the Titanic over 106 years ago…. an Irondad AU

a galaxy far, far away by @madasthesea

a star wars au if tony and peter were master and padawan

___________________________________________________

add to this list if you know any more awesome fics with an au!

#irondad #irondad fic recs #tony stark #peter parker #alternate universe #star wars #titanic #beauty and the beast #historical au #homeless! peter parker #sherlock #cinderella au #female! peter parker #penny parker #the office

329 notes · View notes

earliebirb · 5 years ago

Note

From the prompt list: 5) “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” For stevetony w/jealous steve, please, if you feel up for it? ☺️

Hi there, thank you for the prompt and sorry for the long wait!

This is 2k of no powers/bodyguard au that can be read as a standalone fic or a prequel to this fic of mine, as the two fics are set in the same universe. I feel obligated to warn you that although this one is fluffy, the linked fic contains angst with an unhappy ending (which I may or may not end up fixing with a happy ending eventually). I didn’t even plan to add another fic in the same universe, and yet here we are. I just love the concept of young heir!tony and bodyguard!steve too much, I guess.

Enjoy! :)

TL;DR: click here for part 2 of this no powers/bodyguard au (warning: linked fic contains unhappy ending.)

a fool for you

steve/tony, fluff, au: no powers, bodyguard!steve, young!tony, 2204 words

(5 from this list)

“It’s so hot out here,” Tony groans, using the collar of his shirt to fan himself.

“Well, would you rather be in there with them?” Pepper nods at the general direction of the mansion, where he knows his and Pepper’s parents are still sitting together in the dining room.

Tony makes a face. “No.”

He wants to be as far away from them as possible.

The two of them escaped to the garden just before dessert. This has become a routine of some sort, something they always do during the monthly lunches their parents insist on having ever since they arranged their marriage contract. Tony knows the only reason they are allowed to get away with it is because their parents think that it’s good for Tony and Pepper to spend some time alone, to get to know each other before their marriage.

An arranged marriage. Seriously, Tony’s life is one huge cosmic joke.

Don’t get him wrong; Tony adores Pepper. She is one of his best friends and they have practically known each other since they were in diapers, but they definitely don’t see each other that way. Pepper has little to no interest in dating, and Tony is—

Well, Tony’s heart has been very much occupied by someone else for quite some time now.

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I’m telling you, Pep, it’s so hard to figure him out. I just never know what he’s thinking.” Tony leans back in his seat with a sigh, the rigid wood of the bench digging into his spine.

“He is so gone on you, it’s ridiculous.” Pepper fans herself with a folding fan. As usual, Pepper looks well put together despite the weather, dressed in a white eyelet dress that looks lovely on her and her hair up in a neat ponytail.

“But how can you tell?”

“I just can. Trust me. Have I ever let you down?”

“Well, no, but…” Tony trails off, looking into the distance. His eyes land on Steve, who is stationed far away from the bench Tony and Pepper are sitting on, with rows and rows of the red and yellow tulips of the Potts family estate’s garden separating the distance between them.

His blond hair gleams golden under the scorching heat of the sun. The man is standing straight, hands clasped in front of him. Tony wonders if Steve has always had perfect posture or if it is something he cultivated in his training as a bodyguard. Steve must also be suffering under the heat, dressed in the mandatory dress code for bodyguards of the Stark family—a black and white suit that fits him like a dream. Tony is sitting on a bench under the shade of an umbrella, and even his shirt is already sticking unpleasantly to the skin of his back, damp with sweat.

“Just look at him. He’s always so proper and polite,” Tony grumbles.

“Well, can you blame him? It is his job.”

Tony pouts at that, even as he knows that Pepper is right, like she always is. It’s just that he knows how improper and impolite Steve can be. Steve is hilarious when he wants to be; he has demonstrated his dry humor multiple times in front of Tony. Granted, it is usually only on display when he is in the company of Tony and the other guys in the security detail with no one else around or when he and Tony are alone. The thought of those moments brings a smile to Tony’s lips. Those secret moments are when Steve allows himself to relax, his real personality bleeding into his job persona.

He turns to watch Steve again. Steve is looking down at the ground, a hand pressed to the earpiece Tony knows he wears in his left ear. Tony watches as Steve nods almost imperceptibly before raising his wrist to his lips, speaking to the microphone resting inside his sleeve. When he finishes, he lowers his wrist back to his side. He looks up and meets Tony’s eyes by accident.

Tony stills and stops breathing.

Steve holds his gaze for a few moments before looking away almost immediately, reverting back to his previous posture.

Tony slumps in his seat, dejected. Pepper slaps his back with her folded fan and Tony yelps, straightening his back immediately.

“Don’t slouch. What time is the party again?”

“Seven, but you know me. I like to be fashionably late. Besides, no one can say anything about me being late tonight because I am the birthday boy. The party only starts when I arrive. Then again, that is also true for any other party.” Tony winks. “What did you get me?”

Pepper shrugs, not giving him an answer.

Tony narrows his eyes before gasping dramatically, a hand on his chest. “Pepper Pot, did you even get me anything?”

Pepper rolls her eyes.

“Why?” Pepper deadpans. “Is it your birthday?”

***

“I’ve called Happy. Car will be here in fifteen,” Bucky says as he arrives at Steve’s side. Steve nods.

Anthony Stark and Virginia Potts are casually chatting on a bench in the distance, looking like two completely normal 24-year-olds instead of the heirs to two of the most powerful companies in the world, Stark Industries and Potts Enterprises. With the way Stark behaves sometimes, Bucky tends to forget that the man has a net worth of a couple billion dollars.

Catching sight of the man behind them, Bucky snickers. Sam looks calm and collected as he stands behind the bench to hold an umbrella over Stark and Potts’ heads, but Bucky knows that he is going to complain about his sore arm to Bucky later.

“Look at Wilson. Poor bastard. He hates umbrella duty.” Bucky’s smirk widens an inch when he catches Sam’s gaze, the latter widening his eyes dramatically. “Also, what’s with the sudden switch? I know it’s your turn for umbrella duty today and you never give up umbrella duty ‘cause it gives you a chance to ogle at Stark’s ass.”

Bucky turns to face Steve when his friend and commander-in-chief says nothing in reply. Steve always reprimands him whenever Bucky teases him about his gigantic crush on Tony Stark, something about “protocol” and Bucky being “inappropriate”.

Steve is staring at Stark and Potts with unbridled focus. To the untrained eye, it may look like Steve is just doing his job of guarding his client but Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is doing The Clench and—

“Wait a minute, are you jealous?” Bucky gasps, part scandalized, part incredulous. “Is that why you asked Wilson to switch with you?”

Steve’s head snaps upright and he turns to Bucky with wide eyes.

“No,” he says, sounding equally as scandalized, but the way his eyes slide away as soon as they meet Bucky’s is telling. Ever since he was little, Steve has always been a terrible liar.

“Stevie.” Bucky gawks at him, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve never seen you moon over someone like this before. You weren’t even this bad with Peggy Carter back in high school.”

“I’m not mooning over anyone,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “Fix your posture.”

Bucky snorts, but clasps his hands in front of him obediently.

“I keep telling you, you should tell him how you feel.”

“Stop talking nonsense. It’s against protocol,” Steve says, eyes once again staring longingly at Stark, who is listening attentively to whatever Potts is saying.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “As if Stark ever cared about that.”

Just when Bucky thinks that the conversation is dead, just like the million other times Steve has shut Bucky down whenever he attempts to talk some sense into his best friend, Steve says in a quiet voice:

“Besides… they’re engaged.”

Bucky sighs in exasperation, refusing the increasingly strong urge to bash his own head against the nearest tree. They have gone over this exact problem countless of times.

He loves Steve like a brother, but never let it be said that the man is not stubborn.

Bucky opens his mouth to protest some more, but then Happy announces that he is entering the estate’s premises and Steve begins barking orders into his microphone to prepare the team for mobilization.

***

Tony loosens the tie around his neck as he steps into his bedroom, sighing in relief. If it were up to him he would have left the party hours ago, but alas, being the birthday boy comes with its own responsibilities. The older he gets, the more his birthday feels less like a day to celebrate his birth and more like a day to mingle with his father’s business associates. The fact that his glad-handing skills have practically been hardwired into him by now is his only saving grace. Well, that and…

Turning around, he finds Steve standing at the doorway of his bedroom. Tony waits for the obligatory ‘Would that be all, Mr. Stark?’ and is surprised when it doesn’t come immediately. Having Steve by his side throughout the entire night was Tony’s favorite part about his birthday bash. Tony absolutely lives for the minute twitches of Steve’s lips whenever Tony whispers witty quips and insults about various high-profile people mingling around him at every public event, and tonight was no exception.

As much as Tony enjoys Steve’s company, however, he is also well aware that Steve must be exhausted. After all, as tiring as the event was for Tony, it was still his birthday party. Steve, on the other hand, was dutifully doing his job of shadowing Tony and looking out for potential threats.

Tony is about to dismiss him for the night when he is suddenly struck with the realization that Steve is... hovering.

“Steve?”

“Sir,” Steve says in reply, back straightening immediately. His eyes are wide and he opens his mouth once before closing it again without saying a word. He looks like he has something to say and is struggling to work out a way to say it.

“Tony,” Tony corrects automatically as there is no one else in the room but them, but otherwise he says nothing, waiting patiently for Steve to gather his thoughts.

“Tony, I…” Steve trails off. Tony watches in amazement as Steve’s fists clench and unclench at his side, a rare sight for a person who is usually so graceful and poised. He lurches forward, walking towards Tony before stopping in front of him.

With his eyes trained on the floor, Steve fishes out a slim black box from his breast pocket and holds it out to Tony.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. “Is this…?”

Steve looks up and finally meets his eyes, jaw clenched in determination.

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

Tony reaches out to take the box, his fingers brushing Steve’s.

“Can I open it?”

Steve nods with a swallow. Gazing down at the box, Tony opens it carefully and takes a deep breath the second he sees what is lying inside—a beautiful red tie, made of some soft fabric that seems to gleam under the moonlight streaming in through the windows of Tony’s bedroom. He unfolds it to admire the tie in its entirety.

Something flutters in his stomach when he sees the gold monogram sewn into the tip of the necktie. Tony traces the initials ‘A. E. S.’ reverently with his index finger.

“Steve.”

“Do you… like it?” Steve asks, watching Tony with trepidation.

Tony beams at him. “I love it. Thank you.”

A reluctant smile appears on Steve’s face, even as the man scratches the back of his neck with an air of bashfulness.

“I know it’s not much and I know you’ve already received lots of gifts. Better and more expensive ones. It certainly is no golden cufflinks, but I—”

That gets Tony’s attention.

“Golden cufflinks?”

“Uh, I mean— I might have seen, um, the golden cufflinks Ms. Potts got you, and I know—”

Tony barks out a surprised laugh, realization dawning.

Confusion takes over Steve’s face, his eyebrows furrowing adorably.

“Why are you laughing?”

Tony takes a step closer to Steve, grabbing the knot of Steve’s tie and pulling Steve down to his height.

Steve’s blue eyes are staring back at him, pupils blown wide with shock. Tony gazes at him intently, lips tugged upwards in a helpless smile as his heart swells with affection.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” Tony says, standing on tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead. He releases Steve afterwards, stepping backwards.

Steve proceeds to stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, mouth ajar and breath coming out in ragged pants. A delightful blush blooms on his cheeks.

Tony bites his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. Then he raises his eyebrows, saying:

“Well, you’re dismissed. Thank you for the birthday gift.”

Tony watches in amusement as Steve flounders to regain his composure. Eventually, he gives Tony a curt nod before leaving without a word, blush still high on his cheeks.

The moment the door closes behind Steve, Tony throws himself onto his bed and lets out a stupidly hysterical giggle into his pillow, feeling giddy with joy.

He makes a mental note to send Pepper some flowers in the morning.

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something #earl answers #user: talktonytome #series: bodyguard au

141 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Text

Apology Flowers (Indruck)

@cyborgrabbit requested 63 from the meet uglies: “sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “[person] is [attractive] enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard.” They added, “If it wasn't a personal Garden but like a large private/public outdoor Garden that Duck was the main care giver for he absolutely would verbally attack anyone who touched his flowers”

Indrid considers the plants before him carefully; he wants variety, but he also wants flowers that fit the occasion and the setting. Roses would be nice, but as a human he can’t get them off the plant easily. He needs his mandibles for that.

He picks snapdragons, some lilies, some foxglove, and a smattering of pink and orange blossoms he can’t quite identify, wrapping them all in one big bouquet in a few sheets of USA Today. He’s so busy preparing himself for the hour ahead that he misses a change in the future and the figure stepping around the bushes.

“Hey man, you know you ain’t supposed to pick those, right?”

He whirls, ill-gotten blossoms clutched to his chest.

“I, ah, I, yes, I, I am aware it is frowned upon in a public garden but none of the ones in the store quite, ah, suited my needs.”

The man, clearly an employee, crosses his arms, “so you decided to take some from the botanical gardens?”

“Yes. You have so may, I assumed a few would not be missed.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t, but if everyone gets it into their heads to take just a few, suddenly whole chunks of the garden are missing and all our hard work is for nothin’. Besides, average folks can’t tell the difference between a common plant that’s easy to replace and one that was a pain in the ass to grow.” He doesn’t sound angry so much as tired, as if he’s had this conversation dozens of times.

“I see your point. I, ah, I can’t really put them back though. May I keep these?”

The man smirks, “sure thing. I’m comin’ with you though. I wanna see if the person you’re given ‘em too is good-lookin enough to warrant flower theft.”

Indrid has zero desire to admit where he’s actually going.

“Ah, but, you are clearly at work. And I’m in a hurry.”

“Lucky for you I just got off and can walk pretty fast.”

Indrid sighs, defeated, “Very well. And no need to walk, I have a car.”

The man follows him to the little sedan he’s been towing behind the ‘Bago. Indrid opens the doors, pausing before he gets in, “are you certain you wish to come with me, Duck Newton? It’s not going to be very entertaining.”

“I’m sure. And how’d you know my name?”

“Name-tag.” Indrid replies automatically, hoping the man is actually wearing one.

Duck shrugs, and climbs into the car. As Indrid turns onto the main road, the gardener asks, “you been to Point Pleasant before?”

“A few times.”

“You got family here?”

“No. My family lives rather far away. Ah, what about you?” His distracted state is a blessing, as it keeps him from accidentally saying Duck’s words along with him.

“I’m from Kepler originally, moved out here for this job. Uh-” Duck turns, looking back at the arch they just drove under, “you sure we’re goin’ the right way?”

“Yes.” He says tightly, pulling into the cemetery parking lot.

“Fuuck” Duck groans, smacking a hand onto his face in embarrassment, “why didn’t you tell me those were for this? Woulda eased up on you a little.”

“I wasn’t sure how to explain it.” He opens the door, “will you be joining me, or do you wish to wait here?”

“I’ll come help you pay your respects, seems the polite thing to do.”

They enter the grounds, Duck removing his hat as they do. There are a few other visitors scattered about, the sky blue above them and the grass pleasantly fresh cut.

Indrid finds the first grave, removes a snapdragon from the bouquet and sets it atop the stone. Stares at the name a moment, long enough to think the words he’d usually say aloud, then walks to the next grave he needs to visit. He knows their order by heart.

He’s expecting Duck to become bored with his wandering, or try to talk with him, or offer some thoughtful but useless platitudes. But the human simply follows him from grave to grave, keeping a respectful distance between them.

Indrid doesn’t cry, he never does during this. But with Duck near him, he feels like he should. A human would cry, would they not? Only a monster would remain so unmoved.

Not all of them are buried here, and so after a half hour they return to the car.

Indrid stares at the wheel, “I have one more stop to take flowers to. I can drop you somewhere else if you’d like.”

“I’ll come with you. Come this far. But uh…”

“Indrid. You were about to ask my name. It’s Indrid.”

“Right, yeah. Look, Indrid, you seem like you’re dealin with somethin heavy and, well, I don’t feel quite right leavin you to deal with it alone. But if you need me gone, I can go.”

“I’d very much like your company on this next part.”

“You got it.”

They drive in silence, and Indrid turns on the radio because human music is one of his favorite things. Duck hums along at one point, the noise off-key and charming enough to make Indrid forget what’s ahead of him.

When they approach the memorial, Duck says softly, “ah, thought I recognized some of the names, couldn’t place where. The Silver Bridge Collapse.”

“Yes.” Indrid sits down on the ground near the first row of bricks inscribed with names of those he failed to save. He sets the remaining flowers on a nearby stone, so it will be clear what they are for.

A scuff as Duck sits down next to him.

“Did you know someone on the bridge.”

“Not exactly, no” Indrid sets his hands on his knees, focuses his gaze on cracked ground.

“I, uh, I think what you doin’ is real noble. Most folks come and just visit the Mothman statue.”

“I’ve seen Mothman plenty of times, I do not need to see him anymore.”

“Nicest ass in West Virginia.”

Indrid snorts in surprise, glancing over at Duck.

“Sorry, tend to goof when I’m feelin’ awkward.”

“It’s alright. My actions are less noble than you perhaps think. I, ah, I was there. The day it happened. I suppose you could say I have a, ah, a very intense case of survivors guilt.”

“Oh, Indrid, I’m so fuckin sorry. That must have been terrifyin.” Duck rests his hand on his knee and Indrid starts. He hasn’t been touched on purpose in two years, maybe more.

“It was. I come back whenever I can, to, to pay my respects. To say I’m sorry. Sorry that I couldn’t save them. Sorry that I failed.”

“Hold up now, you didn’t fail no one. Bridge collapse was an accident.”

“But-”

“Let’s say even if you, I dunno, had some way of seein’ it comin, you’re just one guy. One guy can do a lot, but he can only do so much. Trust me, I know. Whatever happened on the bridge, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I…” no one’s ever said that to him so sincerely, so plainly. But as the story he’s told himself all these years starts to crumble, emotion seeps through the cracks.

He shudders, head collapsing into his hands. The strong arm wraps around his shoulders and he crumples, falling against Duck’s chest. Through the silent, sharp tears, he tries to be polite, tries not to make the man feel Indrid is any strnager than he already must.

“I’m s-sorry, I shouldn’t, you don’t need to-”

“Hush now” Duck murmurs, hugging him, “just get it all out.”

Indrid does, streaking his face with and wetting Duck’s shirt with tears. When they finally abate, his mind is pleasingly clear, save for one question.

“Why are you being so kind to me?”

“Because it seems like someone needs to be. Plus, was kinda a dick earlier.”

Indrid snickers at his candor, “You were right to scold me for picking those flowers. Perhaps I should grow my own. There must be a way to do so inside a small space.”

“Can think of a few.”

In all the futures, Duck clears his throat and says that even so, he should be going and that it was nice to meet Indrid.

“If you, uh, if you want, could brainstorm so with you over dinner.” A warm hand rubs his upper arm, soothing and protective.

He sits up but stays in Duck’s arms, looking down at him, “I would, but you do not need to ruin your evening for my sake.”

“Wouldn’t call gettin’ to know you more ‘ruinin’ somethin’. Plus, you’re still in a raw spot. You telling me you wanna spent the rest of your evenin’ with your own thou-”

“No, no I do not.” Indrid says flatly.

“C’mon, some friends of mine have a real nice place to eat near the gardens. French Onion Soup is to die for.”

“I have never had it.”

“Fuck, really? Well now we gotta go.” Duck smiles, his mellow enthusiasm contagious, and by the time they’re in the car Indrid is smiling too.

Dinner really is delicious, though Indrid prefers the pie to the soup (though he must admit he enjoys watching the pleasure on Duck’s face as he eats said soup). Duck asks him about his travels, eagerly shares stories about the garden, and shows him pictures of his cat. When Indrid mentions he draws, Duck asks to see the little pocket sketchbook he carries, and proceeds to tell him a half-dozen times how amazing it is. He also hears Duck laugh for the first time, a ridiculous sound that he wants to hear a hundred times more.

They talk until closing time, no longer across from each other but side by side, as Duck had hopped around to Indrid’s booth to show him more pictures of the gardens. The human offers his arm, and they walk at a leisurely pace. When he reaches the car he hesitates, then hugs Duck. The shorter man hugs him back.

“Thank you, Duck, for everything.”

“You’re welcome. You stayin in town?”

“For awhile, yes.”

“Well, hopefully I’ll see you around.” Duck slowly retracts from the hug, tips his hat with a wink and heads to his car. Indrid gets into his own, watches Duck drive away before heading towards the trailer park. As he reaches into his pocket for his keys, he finds a folded slip of paper with the words “dinner and movie tomorrow?” followed by a phone number.

He grabs his phone, and hurriedly dials.

And in every future, including the one that comes to pass, Duck answers the phone with a smile.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #meet ugly #TAZ Amnesty #prompt fills

47 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 5 years ago

Text

Clouds

Josh Lyman x Reader

Words: 2373

Part 1 of 2

Summary: Head spinning from funeral preparations, the reader barely has time to grieve her father’s death. Her husband, Josh, remembers losing his dad and tries to help her through the dark days of loss.

Notes: I really wanted to write a sad Josh imagine after the sappy Christmas one, so here we go. Also, I want to write some more suspenseful and intense West Wing imagines, so hopefully I will be able to get those going as well! (This started to get long, so I’ll be splitting it into two parts. Let me know what you think!)

You turned the corner, saw your husband, and immediately turned back. You weren’t fast enough.

“Y/N!” Josh shouted, pushing through a couple assistants to catch up to you. You turned around and put on an innocent smile.

“Hi honey.” His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips turned into a deep frown. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Why did the President’s speech get moved back?” He asked with a frustrated sigh.

“We thought it would be better for him to speak after-”

“After the Majority Leader announces that the Democrats just got screwed!” He shouted, receiving looks from the people squeezing past you.

“Maybe we should talk about this in my office, Josh.” You said through gritted teeth. You grabbed Josh’s arm and shoved him into your office. “We decided that the speech would be too contradictory to try and make policy changes right before our other changes are shot down.”

“As opposed to sounding like a bunch of kids trying to start a fight on the playground?” He snapped. “Y/N-” You held up a finger and gave him a silencing look.

“Need I remind you that this is my job?” You were one of the Media Specialists for the President. Josh stepped closer to you, his voice almost a growl.

“Need I remind you that I’m technically your boss!” If you weren’t standing in the White House, you might have slapped him. The muscles in your jaw clenched as you bit your tongue to keep from saying something you’d regret. You turned away from him and sat down behind your desk.

“You probably have something more important to do… boss.” You kept your eyes on your desk as he stormed out. Fuming, you grabbed a pencil and snapped it in half, throwing the pieces across the room.

“Is this a bad time?” Your assistant, Lisa, asked cautiously from the doorway.

“He pulled the authority card, Lisa.” You exclaimed. “He told me that he’s my boss!” She raised an eyebrow.

“Isn’t he your boss?”

“He’s also my husband.” You retorted. She shrugged.

“Hey, you’re the one who married the Deputy Chief of Staff.” Lisa handed you a note with missed call information. “You got a call while you were arguing. She said that she’s your sister.”

Josh was cleaning up a stack of papers that he’d thrown across his office in anger when Donna walked in.

“What tornado came through here?” She joked, leaning against the door frame and her arms crossed.

“Don’t start with me this morning, Donna.” He barked. He gathered up the papers and put them back on his desk.

“You talked about the speech thing, didn’t you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“I told her I was her boss.”

“You didn’t.” Her arms dropped to her side and she stepped into the office, closing the door behind her.

“Yeah.” Josh grimaced. “But she’s wrong!”

“It doesn’t matter who's right or wrong, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” She pointed out. He narrowed his eyes with annoyance.

“Get out.”

“I don’t want to hear about your back being sore tomorrow.” She shrugged.

“Go!” She went back to her desk and he fell back into his chair. Donna was right, of course, which irritated him even more. He’d barely even started to look over his work when Donna came back into the office. “Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?”

“Lisa just called me-” He was too fired up to process the shocked, saddened expression on her face.

“Donna, I can handle-”

“You need to go talk to Y/N-”

“Donna, really-”

“Josh.” Her serious tone caught him off guard. When he finally started to take in the grieving look in her eyes, he knew something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“Y/N’s dad just died.”

And the fight was forgotten. Josh walked quickly, rushing through the West Wing and making his way towards your office. Donna’s words echoed in his mind, mixing with his memories of the Illinois primary. When he lost his dad.

“Where is she?” He asked Lisa. She pointed to your office.

“She’s getting ready for a meeting with a committee from-”

“Cancel it.” He ordered and Lisa nodded in agreement. It was an easily reschedulable meeting, and you weren’t in the state of mind to discuss national park advertisement. He slowly opened the door to your office, finding you loading your briefcase with documents, the papers shaking in your hands. “Y/N?”

“I really can’t talk right now. I have to get to a meeting.” You tried to move around him but he placed a hand on your arm.

“I had Lisa cancel it.” You couldn’t bear to see the sympathetic look in his eyes. You shook your head.

“I can’t. I have to-”

“Y/N.” He put a hand on your cheek and you finally looked into his eyes. Your lip started to tremble and your composure crumbled. Josh’s heart sank. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you and it almost felt like he was holding you up, your knees buckling underneath you. He kept one arm around your waist and held the back of your head with his other hand. “I’m sorry.” He muttered into your hair. “I'm so sorry.”

“He’s just… He’s-” You sucked in a painful breath. “He’s gone.” It didn’t make any sense. Your dad wasn’t sick. He hadn’t been battling an illness for the past several years. You didn’t have time to prepare. Car accidents didn’t allow that.

Josh didn’t say anything. He knew there wasn’t anything he could say that would make any of it easier. He knew better than most. That growing empty feeling that you just can’t shake no matter how many hands you shake or sympathy cards you read.

Word spread quickly through the office, reaching the President in a matter of minutes.

“You’re sure?” He said somberly and Leo nodded.

“He was in a collision on the way home this morning,” Leo explained, his heart heavy with the news. He knew Bill well. It was actually how he had met Y/N. She was all fire and spunk and he had recommended her to the President for a media specialist.

“He was a good man.” President Bartlet sighed. “Remind me to send something to Marissa. And tell Y/N and Josh to take all the time they need.”

“Will do, Mr. President.”

You usually loved driving home. The Virginia fields reminded you of the land that you grew up on. Now, all you could think about were the memories. Your father teaching you how to ride a horse. Bringing you ice cream after a long day of homework. He was the one who taught you how to write. And now he was just… gone. Josh tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the music on the radio.

“You know you’re going to have to get along with her.” You said suddenly, images of previous arguments flashing through your head.

“Who?” He asked innocently, eyebrows raised behind his sunglasses. You gave him a look.

“My sister.” He shuttered and you rolled your eyes. “I’m serious, Josh. I know you don’t like each other, but this is really not the occasion to get into one of your screaming matches. Everyone is going to be on edge enough and-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Josh took a hand off the wheel and placed it on top of yours. “I won’t fight with Celia.”

“Promise?” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I promise,” Easier said than done. Josh had never gotten along with your older sister. Even at your wedding, they managed to have an argument in the kitchen while you threw the bouquet. You never understood what their ongoing feud was about. They had the same political stance, your sister adored President Bartlet, and Josh had always gotten along with your parents. Your mother couldn’t get enough of him. If you were honest, sometimes you thought she liked him more than you! But not Celia. There was something about the two of them that always led to legendary arguments that could be heard from the capitol.

After a few more hours of driving, the hills and trees opened to a long, winding driveway that led up to the house. You drove up a few days early so that you could help your mother prepare for the funeral, but even now, cars lined the driveway belonging to people coming to express their sympathies. Being a Representative for the State of Virginia made your mother a well-beloved and publicized woman. So word spread quickly around town and many families came to share their grief.

After Josh was able to find a parking spot, the two of you carried your suitcases to the back door. Dozens of people in black dress clothes passed by you with sympathetic smiles.

“Here, let me get those.” Someone offered. You turned to see Thomas, your brother-in-law.

“Hey,” You greeted, pulling him into a hug. “How is everybody?” He shrugged.

“We’re holding up.” He turned to Josh and shook his hand. Thomas, compared to his wife, took no issue with your husband. “Fair warning, Josh, a lot of Bill’s journalist friends are here and they’re going to love seeing the White House Deputy Chief of Staff.”

Your father had run the local newspaper for years. He was an incredible journalist, with many offers from bigger news outlets like the Washington Post, but he only ever wanted to do local news.

“Local news is where the good stories are.” You remembered him saying. “Writing about real people and not always talking about how dark and gloomy the world is… that’s all I want.”

He’s the reason you got into media work in the first place. When you got the job at the White House, he got you the most beautiful fountain pen, with gold embellishments and the words “Make the world a little less dark and gloomy. Beyond proud of you- Love Dad” engraved on the box. With all of the messes going on at the White House, you started to wonder if you ever really made him proud.

“Hey,” Josh grabbed your hand before you stepped into the crowded living room. He must have seen your nervous expression because he gave you a reassuring smile. “Do you want to just go for a walk? Get some of that fresh Virginia air before you talk to anyone?” You let out a breath of relief and nodded.

Josh knew how it felt to look around your childhood home and not recognize a single person. To see a bunch of strangers sharing grief for someone that they hardly knew. It was suffocating. He convinced you to walk him through the orchards. They were beautiful this time of year. You took off your heels and walked down the path with bare feet. The dirt and the grass were cool against your skin while your intertwined hands swung back and forth as you walked in the spring sun.

“He loved days like this.” You mused, looking up at the sky. It was freckled with large, puffy white clouds. “He used to say that clouds were the shadows of distant worlds passing by. Island kingdoms home to all sorts of creatures.”

“Sounds like he should have written fantasy novels instead of news articles.” Josh chuckled. You smiled.

“He did.” You picked up a flowery branch and twirled it around in your hand. “They were just filled with little stories for me and Celia. He got them bound and everything, but he never published them. They’re up in his study somewhere.” Josh smiled with awe, fondly remembering the way his father-in-law told everyone stories at dinner. Some of them were true, some definitely weren’t, but it didn’t matter. They always made him think differently about himself.

You made your way back to the house, seeing Celia standing on the back porch with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Uh oh.” Josh groaned. You slapped his side.

“Thomas said you guys got here an hour ago.” She snapped accusingly. “Did you just want to leave me and mom to do all the hosting?”

“CeeCee, hush, it’s alright.” Your mom came through the screen door with a tray of wine glasses. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be in with the crowd either if I didn’t have to be.”

“Representative Y/L/N, it’s good to see you.” Josh gave your mother a hug. “I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“And I’m sorry that even after three years of being my son-in-law you still haven’t called me Marissa.” She scolded.

“My apologies, Marissa.” He grinned.

“So where have the two of you been?” Celia asked her tone still accusatory.

“We just went for a walk.” You shrugged. She clenched her jaw and sat in one of the chairs while you and Josh shared the porch swing.

The sun started to set and the five of you enjoyed a few glasses of wine and Josh bit his tongue whenever Celia tried to provoke him. This lasted for a few hours before everyone decided that they’d had a long day and it was time to turn in for the night.

You slept in your old room, only now it had classy wallpaper instead of band posters. Josh had all but fallen asleep when he noticed you standing at the window.

“What’re you doing?” He muttered groggily. His senses, however, switched to high alert when he heard the sniffle of crying. “Honey?”

“I’m fine.” You waved your hand at him. “Go to sleep, I’ll just be a second.” He stood up, taking the comforter with him to wrap around you while his arms fell around your neck. You held back a sob. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I know it hurts.” He whispered, his lips grazing your ear. “And I can’t tell you when it gets better because it’ll come back. Not all the time, but every once and a while, it’ll hurt. But I’m gonna be there for you when it does.” You turned around so you were facing each other and he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead.

The next few days would be rough, but he knew what they were like. And he would get you through them.

#josh lyman x reader #bradley whitford #the west wing imagines #josh lyman #jed bartlet

136 notes · View notes

let-me-write-shit · 4 years ago

Text

Somebody To You: 4

I post a new chapter every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday!

Warning: implied smut

Word Count: 4,806

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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

CHAPTER FOUR

“If you two don’t stop eye fucking I’m gonna have to call HR,” Andy whispered with a smile in Zoey’s ear, hip checking her as he passed.

Zoey forced her eyes off of Brett from the other side of the bar and felt around her chin to make sure she hadn’t drooled. Two weeks had passed since they had slept together and the sexual tension between them only seemed to grow. Flirting only barely seemed to get her by and Andy consistently pointed out that she was staring again.

“Why don’t you just fuck in the storage room and be done with it? Y'all are making me horny just looking at you two,” Andy dumped ice into a shaker and started mixing a drink for a patron.

Zoey finished weighing out the last of the liquor for inventory and looked at him incredulously, “Why would you put that in my head? Do you think anyone would notice?”

Andy stopped what he was doing and stared at her in disbelief before rolling his eyes dramatically and finished the cocktail. She had gotten her set schedule after the first week, having the same schedule as Andy and work overlapping typically by the second half of Brett’s shift, except Mondays. Mondays were her only early shift day with Brett, ending at 9 PM, and were usually slow, so the night seemed to drag. Luckily, with her new schedule she’d be off Tuesdays and Wednesdays and she works late shift the rest of the week which means more patrons and more tips. And since she worked at a high end bar, most people tended to tip really well. A little cleavage helped, too.

The only downside to working nights was that no one was really home during the day. The only time the girls had was around dinner to catch up and chat, and they had weekends during the day time if no one made plans. But, Aurora’s been really busy with photo and video shoots, interviews, and meetings, and even though Nancy didn’t work a typical nine to five office job, she was still really busy piecing her work together in her room or out of the apartment for a meeting or to prepare fo some kind of deadline with her manager.

Luckily, her hours matched up with Harry’s schedule pretty well, even though he was on the other side of the country. At night, he obviously had a show to perform, usually while Zoey was at work, but the rest of his day typically consisted of either traveling, small meetings with his tour team, rehearsing, or all three. Still, he always found time to respond to her texts.

Their friendship was strange because they’ve only known each other for two weeks (three if you count the one day they spoke when she first moved in), but it feels like it’s been much longer. She often had to remind herself that he doesn’t know her family and never met Michael, Katie, or Jess whenever they talk about her home life, which was often.

At least once a day, without fail, Harry would ask her to tell him more about Jess, or a memory that she was fond of growing up. The questions always came at the perfect time and he seemed genuinely interested to hear what she had to say, engaging in the conversation. It helped Zoey to talk about Jess - it made her feel as though her best friend’s memory wasn’t fading. That someone cared enough to learn and talk about her in a positive way.

A brief phone call with her family made her realize this when her mom started crying that she missed Zoey and compared her daughter moving across the country to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis losing their daughter in a car accident; that she doesn’t get to see her anymore. Zoey knew she didn’t mean for it to be so insensitive, but her mom got an earful after that.

During a text conversation with her little sister, Katie, Zoey was filling her in on her outings with her new friends and a simple ‘you deserve to have nice friends again. Jess would have wanted it. I’m happy for you.’ made her bawl, though she’d never tell Katie that. Instead, she ran to Harry to talk about it.

She noticed during one of their chats the week prior that Harry was the only person she’d talk to about Jess without crying. And to prove her point, she had a quick catch up with Michael, and just the memory of the three of them together made her get emotional. It could have been because Harry didn’t know her personally, or because he’s been through similar situations, but she was grateful for the opportunity to involve Jess in a conversation without sobbing by the end of it.

Herself and Harry had started doing this thing where every time they were being hard on themselves or feeling particularly down, they’d send each other a GIF, video link, or text of a random quote from ‘The Princess Bride’, which always seemed to keep them in check.

Brett started making his way over to her and she hastily got back to work, having some banter with a few of her regulars and grabbing them another glass of beer when she felt a firm hand on her lower back. She drew her attention upwards to Brett who grinned at the men and charmingly joked, “Hello, men. Zoey treating you alright?”

“As always,” they nodded, holding up their newly filled glasses, “She’s our favorite server here.”

“They’re only saying that because I give them beer and let them talk shit,” Zoey smiled at them, shooting them a friendly wink.

“See what I mean? Can’t ask for much else,” one of the men laughed.

Andy overheard the conversation and in passing added a, “she’s just an angel, isn’t she?”

But the men must not have picked up on the sarcasm because they responded, “Yes, she is! Makes no sense why you’re single.”

“Relationships?” Zoey fed into them, “No way. I just got out of a four year relationship. I don’t need to be trapped again so soon.”

It’s not that she didn’t enjoy her relationship with Michael. She did, and he was a lovely guy. It was just her way of communicating with her patrons; by mirroring and matching. It’s how she was able to bond and build relationships so quickly, especially with her regulars. These two in particular loved to talk shit on their wives, so Zoey found ways to add to the conversation without antagonizing the subject. And her favorite trick when having these conversations was to turn their mindset around before they left. Little things to make them ease up on their spouse. Something along the lines of ‘That’s a nice shirt. Did your wife get it for you? She’s got great taste, you look amazing in that!’ or ‘Your wife made you spaghetti for dinner? Lucky guy, I don’t know many women who know how to cook anymore’. Usually little white lies like that made them feel better about their wives without her actually having to say ‘shut the hell up and be nice to your wife, you old dingbat’ and she usually got better tips by the time they left.

The men raised their glasses in agreement to her statement and Brett turned his head to the side, wordlessly asking if he could borrow her for a moment. They stepped towards the back of the bar, doing a quick once over to make sure Andy didn’t need more assistance before he leant against the edge of the counter cooly and asked, “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. Your shift ends at 9 PM, too, right?” she asked, earning a nod. She continued, “Okay, everyone else will probably take a little longer to get there. Jake and Melissa are gonna be picking up some food, and Andy left a few things at his apartment he needed to grab. So you can always head over with me after work, or meet me there later.”

Nancy had flown back home over the weekend to celebrate her friend’s wedding and spend time with family, and Aurora had gone to Virginia for a shoot where Harry was coincidentally doing a show in the town over which allowed her an opportunity to see him in concert and spend some time with him before he left for the next city in the morning, so Zoey used the empty condo as an opportunity to invite some new friends over for a game night, with her roommates knowledge, of course. All of her friends worked with her on rotating days, so they were used to the hours.

“I’ll just go with you. It’ll be easier that way,” he said casually before his lips twitched upwards, “You know, if you wanted alone time with me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up,” Zoey giggled, playfully hitting his chest.

The rest of their shift steadily got more quiet, slowing out to only six patrons in the bar by the time their shift was over. Andy, Brett, and Zoey clocked out and headed towards the employee parking lot around back.

“I’ll call you when I’m five minutes away. You better not miss my call to let me in ‘cuz y’all are busy humpin’ on the kitchen counter,” Andy shook a key at them with an eyebrow raised, causing the two to laugh.

“I don’t screw where the food goes,” Brett responded, “but the couch is a different story.”

“Nasty,” Andy scrunched his nose at them before getting in his car and starting it up.

Zoey led Brett to her car, slipping into the driver's seat as he rounded to the passenger side. A few stray hairs had fallen from her messy ponytail and she smoothed them back, turning the AC on low fan. Evenings in May seemed to be fairly cool in LA so far. The stereo bluetooth automatically connected to Zoey’s phone and began playing ‘Are You Bored Yet’ by Wallows, which startled her, quickly turning down the volume. Being in such a confined space with Brett made her nervous. He had a distinct smell of beer and coconuts, which seemed like an odd mix, but somehow it worked. She could really stand a few shots right now to ease the tension. Too bad she was driving.

“So what’s the deal with your roommates? They out?” Brett asked as they pulled onto the freeway.

“Yeah, Nancy’s with her family and Rory is in Virginia for work. She might actually be with Harry right now, though,” she noticed the time, doing quick math and realizing it was Midnight on the east coast and Harry was probably done with his show by now, remembering he said he had some kind of after party planned with a few of his band mates and tour members, which she thought was weird for a Monday night.

“Wild that you’re all friends with him. But it seems like everyone knows everyone in LA, so I shouldn’t be surprised. So what’s his deal? Are they dating?”

When he put it that way, she did find it a little crazy. She never put too much thought into the fact that she knew Harry Styles, let alone was on a friendly communicating basis with him. She supposed it was just because of the timing when they met, she wasn’t in the right headspace, so by the time they started getting close, the shock and exposure to him had already sunk in and didn’t seem new.

“Uh...kinda? I don’t know, it’s complicated,” Zoey responded.

And it was true. She honestly had no clue what was going on between Harry and Rory. Honestly, she didn’t even think they knew what was going on with each other. She couldn’t blame them, though. They were both super busy at the moment and their hangout today would only make it a total of five times they’ve seen each other in person. She wasn’t even sure if they had an actual date yet or not.

Brett nodded and a moment of silence filled the car. She felt him staring at her and he shifted his body towards her letting his elbow rest on the center console, his muscular arms so big that they lightly brushed against hers. She did a triple take, the pull of his gaze too strong to ignore, “What?” she asked, putting a hand on her cheek to conceal her blushing.

“You should go on a date with me.”

“What?” she sputtered. He was so straightforward and his confidence in his statement took her off guard. Brett was about to repeat himself when it clicked and she said, “I can’t go on a date with you.”

“Why not? Was I that bad in bed?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” she joked. Brett gasped in mock disappointment and she continued, shaking her head, “We work together. I don’t want things to get sticky at work. Besides, I was serious with what I said tonight. I just got out of a four year relationship. I’m not ready to jump into another one right now. Especially not the first guy I sleep with.”

“It’s a date, Zoey. Not a marriage proposal. We can keep it casual if you want. I just like spending time with you, that’s all. Please? Just one date.”

Zoey paused in contemplation. The idea of keeping things casual with Brett did sound appealing. It reminded her of Nancy and Cade’s situation, almost like a friend’s with benefits. No strings attached. She wasn’t opposed to it. If only Jess were here right now to see a sexy Australian man begging to go on a date with her. Twenty five years in Pennsylvania and she barely turned heads, but a week in LA and she’s getting hit on daily by successful, attractive men and her sexy foreign coworker? The move and personality upgrade was really working out for her and she was kicking herself for not listening to Jess sooner.

“I don’t know...”

“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable we can do a double date with someone. Andy and whoever. Or even Rory and Harry. Whoever you want.”

Zoey pursed her lips in contemplation, “Okay, I’ll think about it.” He smiled widely and Zoey quickly added, “Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Good enough for me,” Brett said, a smirk spreading across his face, “So what are the odds of me getting you back in that bed tonight?”

“Slim to none,” she snorted.

“...So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

Once at her condo, Brett took a seat at one end of the sectional while Zoey quickly straightened up and drug out a few games from Nancy’s stash, with her blessing. It didn’t take long for Jake and Melissa to show up with a few two liters of soda, three boxes of pizza, and some wings for everyone to enjoy, and as soon as Andy arrived, twenty minutes later, they all dug in while catching up and joking about different work related instances.

They were in the middle of trying to decide if they wanted to play ‘5 Second Rule’ or ‘Incoherent’ when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She struggled to pull it out of her tight black pants and saw a text from Harry. Opening it, she saw a GIF of Princess Bride with the quote that read ‘Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something’.

Zoey snorted, typing back, ‘Okay, melodramatic. What happened? Didn’t get a big enough crowd at the concert tonight?’

She placed her phone face down on her thigh and laughed at Andy who was mocking Brett’s accent because he didn’t want to play ‘5 Second Rule’, which Brett was fighting hard for, listing all the pros and cons to the game. Her phone buzzed again, once, twice, and on the third buzz she got confused, thinking he was sending her rapid texts at first, only to turn the phone over and see that Harry was calling her. She hadn’t expected a call from him, and they never spoke over the phone with each other before like he did with Nancy and Rory. Her friends realized she had gotten a phone call and turned to look at her as she stood up.

“One sec,” she called, heading down the hall.

“Hurry! I need you to back me up so we don’t have to start out with this stressful, dumbass game!” Andy called after her.

She heard Brett quickly retort, “You just don’t like it cuz you can’t think quickly!” and a cracking noise that sounded almost like a slap before slipping into her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Warily, she answered the phone and whispered, “Hello?”

Harry’s deep, exhausted voice sounded through her phone, dramatically quoting another line from Princess Bride, saying, “Fezzik! Listen! Do you hear? That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when Rugen slaughtered my father.”

She laughed, pacing the length of her room, her brief feeling of shock being replaced with curiosity. “What could possibly have gone wrong at…” she checked the clock and quickly converted the time difference on the east coast, “Almost 2 AM? Where’s Rory?”

Harry groaned, “We got into a fight.”

“Well...did you do something stupid?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first, but it turned into one apparently.”

The more he spoke and the more she heard his voice, the more it started to hit her who she was talking to. She wasn’t a huge follower of his, but she was a fan enough to have heard him speak in videos and interviews that to be able to have these kinds of conversations with him and it be normal knowing that they were friends was hard to wrap her head around. Even so, hearing his voice over her phone wasn’t as startling as she thought it should be. In fact, it felt more calming than anything else.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Well, after the show, Rory came backstage and I was introducing her to some people and said, ‘This is my friend, Rory’....”

“....Okay?” Zoey urged, waiting for him to continue. But he didn’t.

“See?! It wasn’t a big deal! But she got upset that I called her my friend and was being sort of quiet and when I asked if she was okay she just kind of went off asking me how I could introduce her as a friend after we just had sex and after I flew out to see her twice, and accused me of leading her on and all this stuff.”

Zoey listened, continuing to pace the room as Harry ranted. When he finished, she cleared her throat and spoke carefully, “Well...Harry, she’s not entirely wrong.”

“You think I was leading her on?!” Harry sounded more hurt than offended. “I just introduced her as my friend and she got mad. I wasn’t lying. She’s not my girlfriend. What else was I supposed to say?”

“Exactly. She’s not your girlfriend. And who’s fault is that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, you know she likes you. And you obviously like her, too. I mean why else would you fly across the country to spend one day with a person…”

“I do it all the time,” he defended himself.

“Okay, Mr. Perfect. The point is, you two already act like a couple. You talk almost every day. You’re not seeing anyone else but each other - at least, as far as I’m aware. Don’t you think it’s possible that she’s been waiting for you to ask her out and make it official, and by you introducing her as a ‘friend’, you could have just invalidated her entire impression of your relationship and where it was headed?”

Harry sighed, and after a moment to process he breathed, “I didn’t mean to invalidate her feelings. And it’s not like I don’t want to date Rory. We talk all the time, yeah, but I still don’t know her that well and I didn’t ask her to not see anyone else. We haven’t even been on a date yet. Plus, I just don’t want to start a relationship in the middle of tour when I have two months left. I’ve been doing this enough to know that travel can really hurt a relationship. Most people can’t deal with the distance and time restraints. Maybe if she’s still interested by the time the tour is over, then we can maybe talk about making things official. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Trust me, I get it. But did you tell her that?”

“No.”

“Well you need to tell her something so she doesn’t feel like she’s wasting her time. Don’t just leave her hanging like that.”

“I can’t ask her to wait for me. That’s not right. I want her to do it because she wants to, not because I’m dangling the promise of a possibility over her head.”

Zoey pursed her lips, understanding what he was saying while rummaging through her dresser for pajamas to change into, “Just tell her that you’re sorry and you understand where she’s coming from, but that you don’t want to rush things, especially while you’re in the middle of touring, and if she’s okay with it, the two of you can just take things one day at a time and you just want to get to know her more for now. Just be honest with her, Harry. Give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s a very understanding person.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That sounds good,” Harry responded, the words clicking in his head.

A knock on the door startled her and Andy’s muffled voice echoed through the crack, “I got them to agree on ‘Incoherent’ first, so hurry the hell up!”

“Be right there!” Zoey called back.

A gasp was heard from her phone as Harry muttered, “Shit! I forgot you were doing game night tonight. I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s fine. It only just started. There’s not many of us.”

“Is Theo there?” Harry quipped, the nickname Harry gave Brett made her laugh. Ever since he mentioned that Brett looked like Theo James from Divergent, she wasn’t able to unsee it.

“Yeah, he’s here,” she giggled, quickly changing out of her work clothes and into some sweats, fixing her ponytail.

“What’s going on with you two anyway?” Harry asked, “Are you dating, or just flirting still?”

“Funny you should mention that. He asked me on a date earlier.”

“Really? You gonna go?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t want anything serious right now, but he says we can keep it casual.”

“So...friends with benefits?” Harry pressed.

“That’s why I’m not sure. I don’t know how I feel about it, especially with someone I work with. But it’s only one date. I guess I could see how it goes. He did say that we could go on a double date if I’d feel more comfortable and suggested you and Rory. But I know your schedule’s gotta be insane with the tour and you’ve already flown back enough times.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m actually off for three days next week. I had plans Tuesday morning, but I could probably fly out right afterwards and head back Thursday. So maybe Wednesday night we could all go out?”

“Really? You don’t have to if it’ll be too much for you.”

“No, I want to. I told you, I do it all the time. My team will hate me, but oh well. It’ll be fun. I should probably go fix things with Rory first, though.”

Zoey laughed, “Good idea. Good luck.”

They each said goodbye and Zoey threw her phone on the charger before making her way back out to the living room. She took her spot back next to Andy and she smiled, excited to start the game with her friends. She felt proud of herself as she took in the scene, seeing her small group of friends laughing and joking together. She felt like she was finally starting to build the life she always wanted for herself. She never had this many people who she genuinely cared for and that cared for her in return. Sure, she had Jess and Michael, but that was really it. Zoey was finally creating a little family away from her family and it felt good.

After a few more games, everyone was beginning to get tired so the group decided to settle down with a movie. Zoey had dozed off, her head resting on Andy’s lap with her body curled into a ball. When she stirred awake it was nearly 3 AM and she noticed everyone else had passed out. Brett was in the corner and Jake and Melissa were cuddling on the other end. Her mouth was dry and tasted of cotton. Carefully, trying not to wake Andy, she slipped off of the couch and tiptoed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

The blue light on the fridge dispenser illuminated as a steady stream of water poured into her glass. It looked so clear and refreshing that her mouth started salivating at the thought of it when she heard a shuffle behind her. She jumped, turning to see Brett padding his way in, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Jesus!” she clutched her chest again. How was she so easily scared?

He ignored her shock. “Can I have one?”

Zoey passed him the glass she had just poured and grabbed another glass for herself, filling it up with water. Brett gulped it down and let out a breath of air when he finished it before she had even raised her cup to her lips. She raised an eyebrow, sipping at the water.

“Tonight was fun, huh?” he asked in a low voice, leaning against the counter.

Zoey nodded, putting her half drunk glass of water down, “Yeah, thanks for coming.”

“We should do game nights more often. Nancy and Rory can join next time, too.”

“They’d love that,” Zoey agreed, taking another sip of water.

After a moment of silence, Brett spoke up again, “So...have time to think about that date yet?”

The water went down the wrong pipe and she struggled trying not to make a scene of choking, holding it in. But her eyes water as she spoke, “Yeah, uhm,” she caved and cleared her throat, continuing, “Yeah, I actually talked to Harry. He’s the one that called earlier, and he said he was down to do a double date next Wednesday, if that’s okay.”

It was hard to look at Brett when he smirked like that. He must have pulled so many girls by that look. Actually, she KNEW he pulled so many girls by that look from the amount of numbers he got at the bar. And honestly, she didn’t mind. It’s not like she saw a future with him. But he was hot and she trusted Brett enough to have a little fun with him.

Jess’ words kept replaying in her mind, again. ‘It’s fun not having strings attached’ and ‘Have fun, but be safe.’ Zoey thought about those exact words every day since she last had sex with Brett and how right her friend was. It’s not that she needed to have sex, but the liberation she felt by just being able to have sex with who she wanted and when she wanted was something so incredibly exhilarating and indescribable. She knew that a commitment was never a requirement to have sex, and she was reminded of this often by Jess, but it took her best friend dying and her moving across the country to really understand that. And to see Nancy, her kind, fun, carefree roommate, doing what she wanted to do and not worrying about what others might think really broadened her outlook on sex and intimacy.

Brett’s mouth was moving, and she knew he was talking, but Zoey couldn’t hear a damn thing. All she could pay attention to was his dark, mysterious eyes and his juicy, plump lips and how badly she wanted to taste them. Fuck it, she thought, grabbing him by the shirt and standing on her tiptoes to smash her lips onto his. He flinched, shocked by her abruptness, but quickly pulled her closer to his solid chest. When she finally pushed away from him, her heart pounded and her lips were already damp from his. Zoey could feel her body tingling from her knees up to her eyes as she craved someone, anyone’s touch. Brett could be enough for now.

“Let’s go,” she urged, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Still stunned and unable to find the words to say, Brett nodded, mouth still agap, as she led him towards her bedroom.

KEEP READING

Let Me Know What You Think

#harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #one direction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #one direction fluff #one direction imagine #harry styles oneshot #one direction oneshot #one direction smut #one direction fan fic #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

painterofhorizons · 4 years ago

Note

background for alex? :3

Ask and you shall recieve! Thank you for the ask, friend! <3

From these asks, feel free to send any.

BACKGROUND

Where were they born? What was their childhood like? What’s their family like?

Born 16th November 1974 in New York City. Her father is american, her mother russian. They moved back to Leningrad/St. Petersburg though when Alex was 2 years old because her grandmother needed care. Alex lived there until she was 20, then moved to London to study.

Alex’ early cildhood as okay-ish. It wasn’t necessarily playing happy family all the time (her father never really came along with the cultural shift they underwent by moving to the soviet union), but it wasn’t dramatic either. The family (parents, grandma, Alex, Anya (older sister) and the twins (younger siblings)) lived in a very small two room flat together. Alex always liked her grandma, but she died when Alex was 10 or so. Alas, when Alex was 14, Anya died in a car accident. From that moment things spiraled down in the family. Dadcouldn’t cope and left and went back to the states without even saying goodbye, Alex ran away, didn’t go to school regularily and hang out with the very wrong people and eventually her mother kicked her out before her 16th birthday because she couldn’t handle the situation.

Alex then got in contact with a social worker Yuri and got offered a sleeping berth in a youth home in a squat run by social workers and homeless. Alex got a job, caugth up with evening school graduating and made a plan for her future. It’s because of Yuri and his help that she decided to study social work, and because of the shady people she knew that she left Russia.

* It’s super interesting to write about life in end/post-soviet times, really. Doing a lot of research for it, which gives me more and more to write about.

What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold?

She has an BA and MA in social work. She did work with the FBI some years, mostly helping build their Victims Assistance Unit. She’s also member of the Virginia BACA chapter, Bikers Against Child Abuse.

How do they fit into their “story”? - I don’t really know what this question means.

Where do they currently live? What’s their place like?

After moving to London to study and working there for about 8 years she moved to the states for a job, living and working in the metropolian area of Washington DC. That’s where she settles eventually. Alex has absolutely zero demands for how a flat/house/place to live has to be. Considering that she always shared a very small place with many people, she’s just used to be okay with anything. So the flat she has in Alexandria is accordingly, which is mildly unsettling for Dave who is a person of comfort and luxury to some extent. For Alex, her flat there is just a place where she sleeps for some nights a week when she’s not working - and honestly she hates living alone so she’s not actually spending time there anyways. Later she and Dave buy a house together which is something Alex has to get used to but she loves it. It’s a big house in a woody area of Arlington, close to the Potomack river, surrounded by trees. Eventually there’s a dog and two cats also moving in which makes it purrfect. (It’s this house if you’re curious.)

How do they eventually die?

Excuse me? No one is dying over here. - No seriously, I have never thought about that. Alex will probably just die of old age at some point that I won’t write about. So that point is luckily very boring.

#fic talk: Spiegelbilder #alex dancy #thank you for the ask <3 these were fun to answer!

3 notes · View notes

jenni42085 · 5 years ago

Text

Nervous <One>

Chapter 1

Evangeline “Lena” nervously shakes her leg and tries to let the music soothe her mind and soul. Mentally she is thinking of how much people will be upset if she just decides to trade in her return ticket sooner to be closer with her daughter. Her parents and his parents both agreed she needed a break and some “me time” but she wasn’t too sure if this was a smart idea. She realizes her daughter is young and won’t fully remember her being gone for a week but guilt still plagues her. She leans her head against the window and thinks of him.

Thinking of all the good things he is missing, not by choice but rather fate’s choice. 300 days since he was taken from her in a tragic car accident. She can still remember the officers at her door looking sad and not sure what to tell her. A wave of sadness washed over her as she felt the sadness that has slightly controlled her life the last 300 days. Some days were better than others but a day like today where she is flying to see her best friend Marylea in California with out her precious Eevee makes her a little bit more on edge and more time to let her mind wander to different places and topics.

Usually having the playful but shy 1 year old makes her mind focus on her instead of who isn’t with her anymore. She is wondering if this week will help her or make her regret ever coming out. It’s only a week she thinks to herself. A small part of her thinks that she needs a little time away to completely heal but the rest of her feels guilty for letting her family watch her daughter. Her greatest joy lately in life has been being a mom. She thought being a wife was an amazing thing but since being a mom she has felt like her life was complete. She leans her head back as the plane endures some turbulence, I pray this plane makes it, Eevee can’t lose another parent. With those final thoughts she drifted into a well deserved nap.

**************************************************************************************************************

“No, no, no” Jeff yells as he frustratedly throws the next headshot back in the stack of the others “These girls aren’t what we needing for his image! Does anyone ever listen to me?” As he says this he looks around at a few people to have them acknowledge him and his question. He sees yet another text from his client Chris going unanswered since he already knows what Chris is going to ask him.

“Maybe he could just not go because of a ‘medical problem’” he heard someone say.

“Absolutely not! This man is Captain America! He has great health and it really great with the press AND his fans. There is no way he is going to miss this premeire.”

“Well, what exactly is he wanting?” Marylea asks as she quietly places his drink order in front of him. She was still new to California and was looking for better work than being a runner. She wanted to write but she knew she had to first pay her dues. So until they thought she was ready to write, she’d be getting coffee.

For the first time in a long time he felt hopeless. He knew Chris never had any crazy demands, so he was trying hard to please him. It is not that often you get an actor who isn’t a complete douche bag, acts crazy in public, or hasn’t made a bunch of unattainable goals. Jeff runs this hands through his bleached blonde hair and grabs his coffee and looks at his new assistant. She hasn’t been there long but he knows she always got his coffee right and she was always quiet. Maybe the mouse is finally showing that she is more than a coffee runner. “He wants a real woman. Not a model, an actress, or anything like that. He wants to take a person to the charity event and movie premiere who makes him happy. Someone who looks like they go together.”

“You know he is our client and we will do most everything for him but, we aren’t a dating site.” Anna states flatly as she takes a sip of her water.

“Not the point. Happy people make for better press. The guy wants to go out a few times with someone who isn’t completely star struck.” Jeff knows what would make his client happy, he just has to find it.

Marylea stood quietly as she debated on letting Jeff know that she had a person who could possibly fill that position. She’s well aware that Lena hasn’t been seeing anyone since the death of her husband. And she had met Chris a few times and sat in a few meetings with him and honestly he seemed like a good guy. She thinks they would actually make a great couple since they are both so loving, giving, and most importantly selfless.

Jeff noticed that Marylea had gotten even more quiet and was silently debating something in her head. “Speak.”

Startled Marylea looks up at him like a deer caught in headlights. “I.... ummm ....”

“Well...”, Jeff stares at her slightly intimidating at her.

“My friend is in town for a month or so. She isn’t a model or anything like that.”

“Ok and ?” Anna replies with the look that Marylea shouldn’t have been talking.

“Well, to be honest. She’s black and quite beautiful if you ask me. She is single and honestly needs a boost in confidence”

Anna rolls her eyes while Jeff looks intrigued, “ If she is so beautiful why isn’t she in a relationship now?”

Marylea was really hoping no one would have asked that question but it would come out sooner or later. “Her husband died about a year ago. She has a one year daughter. She’s been giving all her time and energy into raising her alone. Even with that on her plate she still volunteers and fosters animals.”

“So no crazy exes?” Jeff questions. Marylea shakes her head quickly. “Why is she out here for a month? Where is the baby?”

By this point Marylea has decided to pull up a chair and sit down with the table of inquiring minds to the issue. “All of her friends and family think she needs a break. Her parents are watching her daughter for a week, then she is being flown out here. As her bestie, it is my job to get her back in society as a 34 year old mom. You know kind of get her groove back.”

Jeff slowly shakes his head. “This. This might actually work”. He stands up and stretches as he is thinking that this will benefit everyone. “The press eats it up when people have kids and everyone knows how much Chris loves kids we could have them doing events for kids. Depending how beautiful you say your friend is she might have a gig for a bit. But this is upon Chris’ approval though.”

“That’s fine. Hold on I have a few good pictures of her and Eevee.”

“She named her daughter after a Pokémon?” Anna replies with a smug smirk.

Marylea doesn’t appreciate anyone talking about her god-daughter like that. “No, her name is Evelyn. Eevee is her nickname thank you very much.”

By this point Gary has joined the group at the table and smiles like he has won the lottery. It’s not very often Marylea even talks let alone sticks up for herself or anyone but here she goes. “Meow! This little kitty is finally showing her claws.”

Hearing that Marylea blushes and puts her head down slightly. “I wouldn’t have suggested her if I didn’t think she was a good choice or that you guys had anyone who would fill the requirements you are looking for.”

“Good point. Well, she a beautiful girl and her daughter is adorable.” Jeff says as he hands Marylea’s phone back to her.

She opted on the most recent picture she has of her bestie granted it wasn’t the happiest day. Ezra’s funeral. Lena was in a simple black dress with her wedge heels to give her some height. She had opted to pull her naturally curly hair into a sleek bun. Lena was never one for a lot of makeup but on that day she wanted to look her best for him so she did smoky eye makeup and wing tips. Eevee was in her arms in a black tutu.

“When does she get here?” Jeff questions.

Marylea looks down at her phone. “She should be here in about an hour. Her flight from West Virginia left on time from the looks of things.”

“So we can meet her soon?” Gary perks up to hearing this news. He honestly was tired of looking through millions of head shots of females who didn’t fit the criteria that was asked.

“Yeah. I was going to have her meet me here to get my house key then get settled.”

Jeff thought about things and looked at his phone and quickly sent a message out to Chris. “Have her come here and we will let Chris meet her directly to see what he thinks. If he approves then you can tell her about a gig she has. Deal?”

“Deal!” Marylea replies excitedly.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

Lena rubs her eyes and stretches as she is one of the last ones to get off the plane. She didn’t think she needed sleep but apparently she did. It felt to actually sleep soundly and not have to wake up every 45 minutes or so bc she was afraid something was happening with Eevee.

This will be the longest she has gone without her little girl and it is kind of uncomfortable. Only a week. She continues to think of the benefits of having a week away and she isn’t really getting a lot of positives.

Lena takes her cellphone out and messages everyone to let them know she made it safely and check on her daughter. Once she knows everyone is ok, she breathes deeply and is enjoying the feel of the sun on her toasted almond skin. She doesn’t need a tan but a little extra sun would be great for the full on J.Lo effect that she likes. This is going to be a good trip. I’m ready for new experiences and new friends. Uber drops her off in front of a boring blue building, she texts Marylea to let her know she was outside and waiting for the key.

“Lena!!! You finally made it here!” Marylea shouts when she sees her bestie of ten plus years. Marylea practically knocks Lena over in an embrace. “I’ve missed you soooo much!”

“I know!” Lena replies just as excited as her bestie. “I’m loving it out here already. It’s so much better than Charleston.”

“Now you see why I hate coming home sometimes.”

“I totally get it. So what time do you get off?”

Marylea thought about breaking the news to her or just letting her relax first. “Well I don’t get off for another few hours. You can hang here if you want. And ...”

“I don’t mind waiting for you and seeing how much of a big shot you are from a small town,” Lena replies. She wasn’t really tired the nap on the plane ride was plenty of sleep. At this point she was ready to explore.

Hearing Lena say she has no problem with waiting for her made the stress in her chest relax. Might as well let her get her guard down then tell her, but it might be better to do it like a band aid. “That’s great! I may or may not have a project/favor to ask of you.”

“Shoot. Anything for you!” Lena replies with out thinking.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes of course. This is vacation right. What’s the worse you could ask of me?”

Marylea looks at her feet as they ride up the elevator. “Funny you should say that.... so you know this is my new job.” Lena nods and keeps smiling. “Well, I may or may not of gave your name to be a date for a celebrity.”

“Excuse me?” Lena relaxed smile went straight into a deer in headlights look. “You are shitting me right?”

Marylea shakes her. “I shit you not. They want needed someone who would go to a few functions this month with a client.”

“Ok but they couldn’t find a model or another actress?”

“See that’s the thing he requested someone who wasn’t in the industry. He didn’t want a white or ambiguously racial lady. He wanted someone real.”

“So you thought I would be a great person to fill those shoes?!?” The elevator comes to a halt and Lena feels her blood pressure raising. “I mean have you looked at me? And I have a daughter. Who would want to date me?!? Even if it is fake.”

Marylea can tell Lena is having a small manic episode due to the fact she was speed walking down a hall way in a place she has never been in. “Lena calm down please. Everyone can see you!” She squeaks out, even though the outside of the building looks horrible the inside has been renovated with all glass walls which everyone can see.

Lena turns around and stops in her tracks. She is feeling stressed but, she doesn’t want her best friend to lose her job that she has worked so hard to get. “Yes yes. I’m sorry but have you looked at me lately and thought to ask me first?”

“You were on the plane.”

“Not the point,” she replies with a grin.

Marylea tilts her head to the side and grins back,” would you rather have a smoke signal?”

“Yes.”

“Smart ass.” To that Lena flips her off then hangs her head down. “Look I know you aren’t thrilled about it but, I figure this is a good stepping stone for me to start writing and not being a coffee runner. Plus when I was told what they wanted I couldn’t think of anyone else but you.”

Lena’s face soften with happiness to know her best friend thinks that much of her. “What about Eevee? I can’t be away from her for a month to do a ‘gig’. I’m stressed out from being away from her after 13 hours.”

“They already know you have a child and etc., and it’s not even guaranteed that he is going to be cool with this whole idea my boss has thought up.”

************************************************************************************************************************************************

Chris nervously sat on Jeff’s couch as he waited for this mystery lady to show up. He knows that he asked Jeff for something of a miracle but he was starting to realize while he is waiting maybe he could have done a dating site. But he couldn’t kid himself he has been trying on and off for 3 years and every time he would think the lady was into him for him, she would start asking for help to “break in” to the business. At least with the girl being Jeff’s assistance friend maybe just maybe she has no interest is the business.

“Lena calm down! Everyone can hear and see you!” He heard Marylea whisper scream at a short messy bun wearing beauty speed walking down the hall way. Chris couldn’t see her facial features but her body type was that of someone he wouldn’t kick out of bed. She had on ripped Bermuda shorts with an oversized button down yellow shirt that made her skin glow. He noticed she has a few tattoos showing.

“Jeff.” Chris asked standing up stretching. “Is your mystery girl here yet?”

Jeff looks up from his desk looking at Marylea and the mystery tattooed girl walk into her office. “Yeah, I do believe she just walked in with Marylea. What do you think so far?”

Chris walks closer to the glass wall to get a better look at the girl even though she is still pretty far away. “ I don’t know. Maybe we can try. I still need to see her face to face and not from a distance.”

Jeff noticed the way Chris was focusing on the short mess bun wearing girl who was pacing around in Marylea’s office that he might have found something he likes. Granted the picture he was shown of the girl she was quite beautiful, hell she’d be his type if he wasn’t already crushing on someone else.

“Well, I’ll get Marylea and Evangeline to come meet you for a few minutes and tell me what you think. You know I’ll never make you do anything of this nature unless you want to.”

“Yes I know.” Chris replies still not taking his eyes of the girl pacing. Her body language looked like she was on the brink of a panic attack.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

“Marylea.” Jeff’s voice came over the intercom and made both the of females jump attention. “Is your friend here and ready to meet him?”

Marylea quickly glances at Lena with pleading eyes and her clasped together. She sees Lena nod her ok. “Yeah she’s here and I’ll bring her to your office.”

“Ok great hurry up. Time is of the essence.” Jeff said as the line when dead.

“You know you owe me right?” Lena looks at her while her hands are slightly shaking as she looks into the mirror. “By the way. . . You never told me who this ‘big shot’ was.”

“Don’t freak out ok?”

“Yeah, see saying that makes me want to not only freak out but panic majorly.”

“Lena.”

“Spill it Marylea.”

Marylea takes a deep sigh, “ it’s Chris Evans.”

Lena stood there a moment and took in who she just said. “Like Captain America Chris Evans?” Marylea looks silently at her and slowly nods. “ no way on God’s green precious earth. Have you looked at me and have you legit seen him?!? “

“Look, Jeff thinks you would be perfect for Chris. Just meet him first. Please??”

“Fine let’s go.... this won’t last long. He’ll meet me and see what I’m in and immediately turn me down.” Lena says as she links her arm with Marylea.

“Stop thinking the worst. Please. You and I could really use something awesome happening to us. Plus you are a smoking hot momma with a cute booty”

Lena sighs deeply and leans her head on Marylea. “I know we both do but how do you know that this is it? Like couldn’t we just win the lottery or something easier? Something less stressful?!?”

By the tone of Lena’s voice she could hear her friend was close to having a minor panic attack. She started breathing deeper so Lena could hear and start unconsciously breathing deep also. This trick has always worked and apparently still does now.

The pair stand outside of Jeff’s door for a brief second knowing the two men could see them. Marylea squeezes Lena hand and Lena gives her a nod of approval.

Even with the nod of approval Lena is wondering why me. Part of her is nervous because it was Chris freaking Evans, then the other part of her worries about what Ezra’s family thinks of her leaving Eevee for a week while she goes out with a movie star.

Chris can see the nervousness of the messy bun golden brown skin goddess as she is tightening her grip on Marylea’s arm. Good to know he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. He got a better look at her, she had dark brown eyes, an adorably small nose, plump lips that looked kissable, and a diamond stud lip ring on the right side of my mouth.

“Hello I’m Evangeline.” She stuck her hand out to Chris then Jeff. She gave them a strong handshake and nervous smile.

“I’m Jeff and this is of course Chris.” Jeff introduced even though they all knew Chris didn’t need to be introduced. The silence in the room started to go deafening and Jeff realized he needed to leave them alone to test the waters. “umm Marylea follow me to the board room will you?”

Marylea looked confused as to why they had to leave but she followed him out the room.

“So.....you just flew in?” Chris asks slightly nervous.

“Umm yeah. Just an hour or so ago.”

“Was it a good flight?” He asks as she walks away from him to the window. She is maybe 5’5 if that, which is adorable. From what he count on her body that is showing she has about ten tattoos. Never dated a woman with that many she must be a badass.

Lena can feel his eyes on her and she isn’t sure how she feels about this. Sure she has been checked out before but right now she feels like he might want more than just a date. “Yeah it was good. I slept most of the way so I consider it a good flight.”

“That’s good. So....”. Chris isn’t sure why this petite girl is making him so nervous.

Lena turns around to look at him; if she didn’t know any better she’d think she makes him nervous like he makes her nervous. She slowly crosses the room feeling his eyes on her the whole time. “So what exactly are you wanting or needing? I’m not a call girl. I’m a mom. And isn’t there a model or struggling actress you could have decided on?”

Her bluntness shocked him and herself. She was internally shaking even saying it but, she didn’t have a chance to ask Marylea any of these questions. Once it was all out she realized how rude she kind of sounded and that honestly wasn’t her character. “I’m sorry to sound so blunt and rude. I didn’t mean it to come off that way. I’m just .... I just ....” She stops again hanging her head in defeat, while plopping her body down on the couch next to the still stunned actor. “I’m just not sure I can be what you are wanting. This last year took a man who I loved very much away from me, I’m raising an one year daughter alone, I’m doing a week away from her and I guess I’m just not fully ready to come out of my shell even though I really need to.”

Chris sits there slightly stunned by everything she said. Honestly he couldn’t imagine how she is holding it all together but he admires that. “Well, I’ll be honest with you. I don’t want or need a call girl, model, or actress. I tried dating sites but let’s be honest they are. . . “

They both look at each and say in unison, “horrible.” They chuckle together and he continues. “I just want some one different to spend some time with. Maybe go with me to a few events. Not as a girlfriend or anything but just a friend. But if things develop I wouldn’t be upset either.”

“Ok. That I could possibly do. But I have a little girl who comes first.” Lena replies as she is slowly relaxing after his admission.

“Oh I understand that you have a child and want her always to come first and I’ll help you in any way that I can. Jeff said this was your vacation and I want you enjoy your time out here. Maybe we could go to Disney one day,” The look he gives her is meaning that he is honest about what he means. He isn’t sure of her whole backstory but he knows he is a smitten kitten with her genuine smile that lights up her whole face. “Can I see a picture of your little girl?”

Hearing all of this is slightly overwhelming and shocking to hear a man want to not only help out but also spend time with her daughter and want to see her. She smiles at him as she pulls her phone from her back pocket. “Umm let me find the most recent one of Evelyn.” She shows him a picture that she took of her right before she left. She was in a blue polka dotted onesies with her hair in pigtails.

He took the phone out of her hand examine the small infant who looks a lot like her mother with the same small nose and genuine smile. Her eyes and skin were a few shades lighter than her mother making him wonder if the baby’s father was white. “She’s absolutely adorable. So she will be here in a week? Is she flying alone or with someone?”

“My in-laws are flying to Japan so they are flying to Cali with her for the layover. I hope she is a good flyer.” She replies with a hopeful smile.

“In-laws? I don’t mean to pry but did you get a divorce?” Chris asked before his mind would stop him.

She knew that it would be asked sooner if not later. “No, he died in a car wreck right after Eevee was born. I want her to know who he was from me and his side of the family, I keep the connection always open. She’s their first grand child.”

He nods his head feeling like a dumbass for asking because he could see the slight bit of sadness come across her face when she was replying. With out thinking he puts his arm around her shoulder and gives her a hug. At first he felt her body tense by the sudden physical contact but she slowly relaxed in his arms.

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for telling me. And just being honest. I think that is why I needed help from Jeff because I just want to hang out and know someone genuinely. You know?”

“Understood. Just odd that you would need help.”

“Really? Why is that?”

Lena bit on her lip ring finding the words to say not realizing that he thought she was absolutely adorable. “Well, let’s see. You are very handsome, and from what I’ve seen in the media an all around good guy.”

Chris blushes at her comment. He’s never been good accepting them and wondering if the person who says them are genuine or not. “Thanks. I try.”

A small silence happens between them but not in an awkward way. “So, how are you guys doing? What do you think? Will this work for you Chris?” Jeff says. The way he said it makes Chris slump, since it makes him feel like he has to accept to be polite even though he wanted to be linked up to her.

Lena shifts her attention to Marylea who is giving her a hopeful smile. This is worse then being picked for a team. “We are good. I think we are meshing really well.”

“Ok great! We just have some paperwork to go over and need you to see his schedule and compare it to yours.” Jeff says as he crosses the room to his desk.

“Paperwork?” Lena and Marylea reply in unison. “What kind of paperwork?”

Jeff stops searching for documents on his computer to look at the two females. “Yes, paperwork. NDA meaning you won’t go to the press about Chris or any of his personal business. Nothing to crazy and he can fill one out for you since you have a daughter.”

Chris looks at her, her expression is unreadable. He doesn’t do anything to be exposed to the paparazzi but he knows Jeff wants to be safe. “I’d rather her not sign it.”

“Umm excuse me? Ladies I need a word with him. I’ll call you back in a few.” Jeff says with a slightly frustrated look.

The women nod and leave the room looking confused like Jeff. “Dude what’s that about?” Jeff asks.

“I trust her.”

“Maybe so but I think you should have her sign it.”

“I’d rather she not. What if I end up with her? I don’t want that to be a reason why she isn’t with me.”

“But you don’t even know her yet.”

“Key word is yet. I think we might actually be good together. If I don’t feel like it’s ok we can revisit it in two weeks”

Jeff sighs deeply and looks at the hopeful look on Chris’ face. “Fine. But two weeks and that is all.”

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Lena and Marylea walked down the long hall way to Marylea’s office. Before the two got all the way to her office they hear heavy foodstuff coming their way.

“Hey Evangeline! Wait up!” Chris says.

“You guys done so soon?” Lena asks with a questioning expression. “Ready for me to sign the papers?”

“Yes and no.” The two women gave him confused expression. “Yes we are done and no you don’t have to do the NDA. I trust you.”

“Thanks. I guess.” Lena replies. “So how does this all work?”

Chris shoves his hands in his pockets looking a little unsure. “Well, we could lunch or dinner today if you would like. I know you just got into town and I know you and Marylea will want to catch up. Just figure a meal together to know more about each other and the events I have to attend.”

Marylea can see Lena’s body slowly grow tense, she knew Lena was probably going to put off hanging out with Chris as long as she could. Before Lena could open her mouth, “How about your guys do lunch since I don’t get off work for a few more hours then afterwards us girls can have girl’s night.”

Lena turns her head and looks at Marylea like she has lost her mind. “Yeah sure we can do lunch.”

“Great! Let me tell Jeff I’m leaving and we will be good to go.” Chris says cheerfully.

As soon as the door shuts, “Seriously? What have you signed me up for?” Lena says as she pulls out her mirror to make sure she looks decent to be seen out in public.

“You’ve signed up for a good time. I promise it will be ok. Just trust that it will be ok. I think you guys will get along just fine.”

“Yes yes, but you owe me big.”

“I know. Drinks on me tonight.”

Chris comes back to the office, “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” As the two leave Marylea’s office, Chris’ hand moves to Lena’s lower back to usher her out the room. This will be ok. This will be ok, she mentally chants to herself.

************************************

#chris evans #chris evans x black reader #anxious

17 notes · View notes

findingyouagain · 5 years ago

Text

𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙴 𝙶𝙾 ( 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽 ).

Do not grieve. Anything you lose comes again in another form. —Rumi

"I'm late. I'm late!"

She rushed down the staircase, feet pounding against each step. The third step to the bottom creaked beneath her weight as it did every day. Damp hair dripped onto the white railing. Reaching the first floor of the house, Kennedy made her way to the kitchen, sliding across the hardwood floor with her blue socks and pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. "Dad, I'm late!"

"I see that."

Bryan Steele sat at the kitchen table. His horn-rimmed glasses rested on his nose as his hazel eyes scanned the newspaper in his hands. Kennedy could only make out the headline: something about a missing couple. The sunlight streaming from the window above the sink reflected off his glass of orange juice, shining onto Bryan's brown hair. He was already dressed for the day—tan khakis and a navy button-up shirt. His blue scrubs for work lay on top of the few patient folders he had brought home from the hospital the night before.

"Well, why didn't you wake me up?" She had one foot pressed against the pale yellow, almost white wall, tying the laces of her Nike tennis shoes.

Bryan ran a hand through his hair, dropping the paper onto the table and grabbing a piece of bacon off his plate. "I thought you had decided to jog to school this morning and already left." He took another bite. "That's what I told Bonnie when she came to pick you up a few minutes ago."

She finished tying her other shoe and sighed. Great, she also had no ride to school. "Well, now I definitely have to run—unless I can borrow Mom's bike?"

"Tires are flat," came his gruff reply. He was biting back a grin. "You'd be even later if you tried to air them up. Besides, jogging to school won't kill you. Consider it early track practice."

Kennedy let out an incoherent grumble before slinging her bag onto her back. "Yeah, well, guess I'm going to stink of sweat all day. Great way to start off my senior year!" She opened the side door. "—and wipe that smirk off your face, Dad. It's not a handsome look on you." The door slammed shut, and the slap, slap, slap of running feet on asphalt could be heard.

Heart racing, Kennedy leaned against her gray locker and let out a ragged breath. Despite jogging every morning, running three miles to school left the teen breathless, as well as hot and sweaty. For once, Kennedy was glad to have stored a spare pair of clothes in her gym locker for after track practices.

Her eyes scanned the crowded hallways. Already, colorful posters about clubs to join and student government elections littered the walls. Eager teenagers wandered, chatting about which beach they had visited and who they had hooked up with over the summer break. Kennedy sighed, not quite understanding why she was supposed to miss this in ten months' time. Mindless babble and petty drama? She wasn't interested in dealing with it for another year, let alone after she graduated from high school.

Spotting Elena Gilbert and Bonnie Bennett by their lockers, she picked her bag off the ground and squeezed her way past lost freshmen with their eyes glued to their schedules.

"—no, that's over."

"What's over?" Kennedy asked, smiling at her two best friends.

"Ah, nothing important. Thinking about finding man, coining a new phrase. We've got a busy year ahead of us," Bonnie replied, but her gaze trailed behind Elena. The two brunettes turned to see Matt Donovan clad in his red and black letterman staring at Elena.

Kennedy watched as Elena waved at him and the blond ignored her, grabbing books out of his locker and walking off.

Elena sighed and leaned against the locker while Kennedy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He hates me."

Bonnie shook her head. "That's not hate. That's 'you dumped me, but I'm too cool to show it, but secretly, I'm listening to Air Supply's greatest hits.'"

Kennedy held back a giggle. "He just needs some time. I mean, it's not like you guys bumped into each other muchover the summer. He'll get over it, and you'll be best friends again. Trust me."

"Speaking of time," Bonnie began. She grabbed the red junior history book from her locker. "How'd we beat Miss Track Queen to school when you left before us?"

"Funny story, I woke up late, and my dad just assumed I had already left for school. So, I ended up having to run here just like he told you. Now I'm all gross."

Elena folded her arms across her chest, ignoring the yells behind them of friends congregating for the first time since May. "Don't you keep spare clothes in your gym locker?"

Kennedy nodded. "Yeah, I'm actually headed that way to speak to Coach Sharpe about track tryouts. As captain, I'm going to have to oversee them, and I can't have them interfering with my work schedule at the library. I figured I'd change while I was down there."

"Elena! Oh my god!"

It wasn't seconds later that Kennedy had been gently shoved to the side, almost knocking into Bonnie, as a blonde in a blue blouse and black heels enveloped Elena into a tight hug. Elena patted the girl's shoulder reassuringly.

"How are you? Oh, it's so good to see you." She released the olive-skinned girl from her embrace before turning to Bonnie and Kennedy, blue eyes laced with concern and wringing her pale hands. "How is she? Is she good?"

"Caroline, I'm right here." Elena gave a weak but believable smile, nodding her head for good measure. "And I'm fine. Thank you."

"Really?" Caroline asked, and Kennedy felt sorry for Elena. Although it was a brand new school year for everyone, no one could forget how last year had ended. In a small town, the car crash that had wrecked the Gilbert household had affected everyone, even if just in minor implications. Elena had miraculously survived the car's plunge over Wickery Bridge, but her parents had not, leaving Elena and her younger brother to be taken in by their Aunt Jenna, who was only eleven years Kennedy's senior. Now, everyone was sensitive to Elena's feelings, perhaps too sensitive, and no matter how much it seemed Elena wanted to move past the accident and start afresh, everyone else couldn't let the girl forget. Pity parties weren't Elena's thing, that much Kennedy knew.

"Yes, much better."

Caroline enveloped Elena into another hug. "Oh, you poor thing."

Kennedy threw Elena a knowing look and a small smile before tugging the blonde off of her. "Okay, okay, give the poor thing a break, Care. She's had enough touchy-feely for the morning."

Caroline nodded, clapping her hands together. "Okay, see you guys later?"

The three nodded, and Bonnie mumbled out a quick bye to their friend as the blonde strutted down the hall.

Kennedy let out a laugh, and Elena just shook her head. "No comment."

Twisting the bag on her shoulder, Kennedy pointed towards the gym and coaches' office. "Well, I better get going if I want to change out of these clothes. See you first period?"

"Remind me again how you ended up being Tanner's student aid for the junior history class?" Bonnie asked, picking up her own bag. Kennedy was already turning in the other direction.

"Because I'm the only one to ever laugh at his history jokes and make a hundred on his finale, duh!" she threw over her shoulder. Kennedy could hear Elena's giggle as she walked down the hall to change.

"How about next Tuesday afterschool? Will that work for you?"

Finally changed into some fresh clothes and sprayed down with perfume, Kennedy nodded her head at Coach Sharpe's suggestion. Her schedule wasn't hectic, just full. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays afterschool, the brunette worked at the Mystic Falls Public Library—shelving books, tutoring younger students, and updating the online catalogue. Plus after work on Wednesdays, Kennedy attended church with her mom, helping in the kitchen and with the youth bible study class. Every other Saturday, she volunteered at the hospital and shadowed her father in the pediatrics department. Sundays, there was church again and then her family dinner in the late afternoon. Tuesdays and Fridays were her only free days, mainly because last year they had been dominated by track practices and meets.

"That works for me." She smiled at the man. He sat, arms folded over his linoleum desk, where papers and handheld timers lay scattered. A red baseball cap embroidered with the high school's initials covered his bald head. His eyes were kind but empty, vague, like they couldn't capture the emotions the rest of his face expressed. Kennedy watched as a smile tugged at his lips, and she wondered what thought had crossed his face that she had missed.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. It was a rather blunt question, and if the man hadn't been Kennedy's track coach since the sixth grade, she probably would have never asked him.

His smile widened, and he tilted his head. "Just that we're going to have an amazing team captain this year."

Kennedy let out a small laugh before ducking her head in embarrassment. "Well, thanks, Coach." A bell rang out throughout the school, and Kennedy glanced at the clock. Five minutes before class started. "I've got to get to class, but I'll stop by later this week to confirm the tryout list, okay?"

Coach Sharpe nodded. "Yeah. See you then."

"Once our home state of Virginia joined the Confederacy in 1861, it created a tremendous amount of tension within the state—" Mr. Tanner droned on, pacing in the front of the small history classroom. His hands were kept clasped at his waist, and he stood tall, eyes roaming the room in hopes to catch students off task.

In the back of the classroom, Kennedy tapped, tapped, tapped a red pen against the wooden desk. A stack of papers sat in front of her. Tanner had handed them to her when she arrived to class with two minutes to spare before the tardy bell went off. This was the junior history class, or as it was better known as, the period Kennedy and Mr. Tanner had designated as her teaching assistant period, meaning she was in the room to grade papers and help write up lessons. Today being the first day of school, all she had to do was staple and organize the practice U.S. History exams the juniors would take tomorrow, but she didn't feel bothered to organize them just yet, instead opting to doodle on the back cover of her notebook. So far, a small clearing surrounded by tall trees had appeared, and she was debating whether to draw a crow in the corner as well when something caught her eye.

Glancing up from her drawing, Kennedy caught the new boy—didn't Mr. Tanner's role sheet say his name was Steven or something like that—staring at Elena. Matt and Bonnie must have noticed it too because Kennedy could see Matt glaring before reading a text Bonnie was sending over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes, she smiled at how oblivious Mr. Tanner was to Elena pulling out her phone, confirming Kennedy's thoughts that her two friends were texting each other during class.

Kennedy pulled out her own phone, typing out a quick message: What did you text Elena? And clicking send before returning to stapling papers.

A short buzz vibrated the desk, causing the red pen to roll onto the floor. She ignored the pen and slid the unlock button on her phone.

That the H-O-T new boy was staring at her. Didn't you see? came Bonnie's reply.

Oh, trust me, Kennedy typed out, I saw.

She turned back to the class in front of her, eyes narrowing in how the new guy—maybe it was Ian?—continued to stare at Elena as the girl kept her gaze locked to the front of the room, smiling wide. Kennedy shook her head, shuffling the papers in her hands. Was this about to be the start of young love or more drama? Whichever the case, Kennedy was just happy to see her friend truly smiling again.

"Guess who."

Kennedy laughed, rolling her eyes behind the hands clasped over them. She hummed, pretending to mull over the endless possibilities as to who had snuck up on her. After a moment or two of contemplation, she shrugged her shoulders. "No idea…is it the reincarnation of George Washington here to set the country straight again?"

The hands were removed from in front of her eyes, and she blinked, readjusting to the brightness of Mrs. Halpern's calculus classroom at 1 o'clock in the afternoon. She turned in her desk, spotting the tall blond boy with mischievous green eyes staring at her. "George Washington, really?"

"What did you want me to say, Ollie? J.F.K.? I'd be disgracing his good looks by comparing them to yours."

"Hardy-har-har." Oliver took the desk next to her, digging into his backpack and grabbing a notebook, calculator, and pencil. He opened the notebook up to the first page before turning back to face her. "Was that you I spotted all sweaty this morning next to my sister?"

"Depends," she countered. She leaned over the aisle, brown eyes raking over him with judgement. "Was that you I spotted walking the halls this morning with Vicki Donovan on your arm?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, suddenly much more interested in his blank notebook than her, but Kennedy wasn't having it. She grabbed the notebook off his desk, folding it closed again. He tried to grab it back, but she pushed it inside her backpack. "What? We're back together."

"And when did this happen?"

"I don't know. A while ago."

She frowned. "Why wasn't I informed of this, Ollie?" Arms crossed, Kennedy gave him her ultimate 'I-thought-we-were-past-the-whole-not-sharing-information-thing' glare. Five months her senior, Oliver Forbes had been Kennedy's best friend since the sixth grade; however, they had known each other since the beginning of elementary school, back where playground rules dictated who was friends with who. To the kids in their kindergarten class, a girl beating another boy in a race across the field was unheard of, well, until Kennedy ran across the finish line with Oliver several feet behind her. The excited six-year-old she was, Kennedy had jumped up and down, the biggest smile plastered on her face. Oliver had been a sore loser, however, and tugged hard at one of her pigtails. A call to Sheriff Forbes later, and the unspoken 'we're not friends and probably never will be' hung thick in the air between them until sixth grade. Kennedy never talked to Oliver, and Oliver continued to think of her as a smartass and show off who wouldn't shut up. Who knew science fair projects could form a friendship between two people who couldn't stand each other?

Oliver let out a long sigh. "Because it didn't seem important at the time?" He held out his hand expectantly. "Can I have my notebook back please?"

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy huffed before grabbing the object back out of her backpack and handing it over. As more students filled into the classroom, Kennedy leaned over her desk, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, how did Tyler and Jeremy take the news when they found out?"

Oliver only glared in response.

"So not well then." Before Kennedy could get another word in; however, Mrs. Halpern walked into the room, placing down the calculus textbook onto the front desk, and began the lesson.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Kennedy finished all of her classes for the day; like most of the other seniors, she had gotten her schedule moved around for an early dismissal so she could make it to the library in time for work. The elementary and middle schools released their students at 2:40 P.M., and the library's tutoring sessions began at three. Walking down Main Street, Kennedy grinned, allowing her arms to swing back and forth at her side. Her tan shorts and navy blue top kept her cool, and the aviator sunglasses concealed her eyes from the bright sun. With a clear sky on a day like this, the sun found entertainment in reflecting off every surface—car mirrors, shop windows, even Mrs. Lockwood's emerald necklace as she passed Kennedy on the sidewalk. Seeing the five rather large bags Mrs. Lockwood carried, the brief thought of what the mayor's wife was doing out shopping in the middle of the day crossed the brunette's mind, but Kennedy shook the thought out of the way.

"365 more days," she muttered under her breath. "365 more days, and I'll be out of this town and away from all the drama and gossip that goes with it."

And had those all bags been from the liquor store?! Kennedy turned on her heels, skidding against the concrete pavement to try and catch another glance at the logo on the bags, but Mrs. Lockwood had already gone into another store. With a sigh, Kennedy frowned in disappointment of herself. Living in a small town could drive you insane if you let the urge to know everything about everyone and their activities consume you.

"365 more days."

Kennedy made to turn again, but this time, her tennis shoe caught onto a small pebble, and before the brunette could process it, she felt herself fall forwards. Or she would have, if her shoulders hadn't been caught between two hands.

"Whoa, there," a male voice rang in her ears. The hands steadied her, and Kennedy looked up to see a man in what she assumed to be his early twenties staring at her. Raven black hair, leather jacket, black V-neck, the typical attire of a rebel with a James Dean philosophy on life, he had to be at least six foot, the way his tall frame hovered over Kennedy's petite body. A shiver ran down her spine at the sight of him, and she watched in confusion as his bright, electric blue eyes scanned her face for something.

Kennedy bit her lip. They were too close, and it didn't appear his hands were releasing her shoulders out of their own free will anytime soon. So she took it upon herself and forced her feet to move backwards, allowing her body to move away from his hands and put a decent distant between the two of them. She tilted her head as she noticed his eyes were still scanning her. She noticed a brief flicker of recognition and surprise on his face, but she didn't understand why.

"Eliza?" he mumbled. His hand reached out to grasp her shoulder again, but she shook him off, folding her arms across her chest.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't a creep. Just confused. "I'm—I'm sorry, I think you have me confused for someone else." She paused, eyes locking with his. Had this happened before? Why…the leather jacket, the sounds of people chatting away in the background, the clear blue sky…why was she feeling the strangest sense of déjà vu right now?

He blinked, looking hurt but also perhaps hopeful. He retracted his arm, pushing both his hands into his pockets. "Oh. My…my mistake. You just look like an old friend of mine."

Is that how he always greeted old friends? With a look full of surprise, remorse, and longing? If so, she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to become one of this man's old friends. "I'm Kennedy," she corrected.

"Yeah."

"Yeah," she repeated lamely, looking for an escape route. This conversation was headed down hill, and she was beginning to run late for work, despite the public library being only five feet away.

Luckily for her, the blue-eyed stranger took care of it. "M'sorry for bothering you. Have a nice day." He took a step to the right and began walking down the street, but not before turning around and leaving her with one last word of advice. "You should be careful where you walk. You don't want to bump into the wrong person next time you trip on a rock."

She let out a short laugh. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

He nodded, walking away. "Anytime, Kennedy. Anytime."

When he was out of sight, Kennedy released the tense breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Walking the few steps left to reach the library doors, Kennedy shook her head, moving the interaction between her and Mystery Blue Eyes to the back of her mind.

Time to get to work.

"His name is Stefan Salvatore. He lives with his uncle at the old Salvatore boarding house. He hasn't lived here since he was a kid. Military family, so they moved around a lot. He's a Gemini, and his favorite color is blue," Caroline explained. She waved her hands around as she talked, and Kennedy fought the urge to grab them and tape them to her blue dress so they wouldn't move.

Bonnie stared at Caroline in shock but mostly disbelief. "You got all of that in one day?"

Caroline waved her hand again, dismissing the notion. "Oh, please. I got all that between third and fourth period. We're planning a June wedding."

"Yeah, in your dreams. I'll make sure to tell Ollie his sister's getting hitched." Kennedy giggled as the blonde huffed in annoyance, turned, and walked over to another student from school.

The trio just arrived at the Mystic Grill, the town's local bar and grill. Most of Mystic Falls' teenagers could be seen spending their afternoons and early evenings there, whether to study or to just hang with friends. A loud hum of activity always filled the air; the restaurants' patrons chatting amongst themselves. Clinks from shot glasses could be heard towards the back, where the bar sat next to the pool table. The lightning in the building was dim, warm, yellow lights shining down from the ceiling. A few standing lamps could be found scattered around the room as well, casting shadows on the faux stone walls. Spotting Oliver cleaning up a now-empty table in the middle of the room, Kennedy pointed it out to Bonnie.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"We shall."

An order of French fries and two Cokes later, Kennedy and Bonnie sat across from Matt. Although Kennedy wasn't thrilled to be involved in the conversation, she knew that she and Bonnie, as both Elena and Matt's friends since they were children, had to set the boy straight.

"How's Elena doing?" he asked. His elbows leaned against the rustic-looking wood, and he had his face propped up by his hands. His face was solemn, and his blue eyes were laced with concern. Kennedy understood he was genuinely interested in Elena's well-being; he was just being too much of a chicken to check up on the girl himself.

"How do you think she's doing, Matt?" Kennedy asked, and it came out a bit harsher than she intended.

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders. "Her mom and dad died. She's putting on a good face, but it's only been four months."

And here it comes. "Has she said anything about me?"

Shaking her head, Bonnie rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. "Oh, no. So not getting in the middle. You pick up the phone and call her."

Kennedy nodded, biting into a French fry. "Yeah, and while you're calling her, make sure to apologize for not speaking to her all summer long. It made you look petty."

"I feel weird calling her. Hell, I feel weird even seeing her. She broke up with me."

"Give it more time, Matt," Bonnie explained. But her face fell into a soft frown, and Kennedy remembered why she never played poker with Bonnie on her team. Worst poker face ever.

Their three gazes followed Elena as she walked into the Grill, followed by the new boy—whose name according to Caroline was apparently Stefan, not Steven nor Ian—close behind. Kennedy watched as the two glanced around the restaurant before smiling at each other. And there went her chances of the year being drama free.

"More time, huh?" he muttered, eyes downcast. Kennedy felt sorry for him and reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Matt had already stood up from his seat, walked over to Elena and Stefan, and introduced himself.

Kennedy smiled softly. "Way to be the bigger man, Matt."

A few minutes later, Elena and Stefan had joined the table, along with Caroline, who know doubt had just joined to further learn more about the town's new eye candy. Not that she couldn't learn most of it from the gossip she spent most of her school days filling her ears with. Matt had left the table to play with Tyler Lockwood, another football player.

"So you were born in Mystic Falls?" Caroline asked.

Kennedy sipped on her Coke, swirling the straw in her drink between breaks. She was interested in Stefan's responses, but she could tell the others seemed more eager. While she sat relaxed in her seat, legs crossed and head leaning against the back, the others leaned against propped-up elbows, eyes never straying from Stefan's face. Kennedy couldn't be bothered to put so much effort into the conversation. Not because she didn't care or didn't want to make any new friends, but because she felt like she didn't have to try too hard. This Stefan was friendly, even if a bit reserved. Perhaps he was shy, but to Kennedy, he gave off the vibe of someone she could chat to about most anything, the same vibe she received from people who were her friends. She felt like she already knew him, even if she knew virtually nothing about him.

"Mm-hmm. And moved when I was still young."

"Parents?" Bonnie asked.

"My parents passed away." Kennedy sat up, intrigued, not at the information but the way he said it. His voice didn't soften nor crack; his face kept the same neutral expression he had worn all evening. He barely even blinked during the sentence. He said it so matter-of-fact that Kennedy felt it was just that and nothing more: a fact.

He turned towards Elena. Oh, Kennedy thought, so he heard about the accident. Are people really still gossiping about that at school?

Elena frowned, and before she could speak, Kennedy dragged the conversation away from her, wanting to avoid a pity party to start for Elena and Stefan. "I'm sorry. Any siblings?"

Stefan's eyes glanced towards her. To Kennedy, it appeared to be the first time he had truly noticed her existence at the table. He blinked, his green eyes searching her face for something. It was the same look of recognition she had seen early that day on Mystery Blue Eyes's face. He shook his head. "None that I talk to. I live with my uncle."

"So, Stefan…" Caroline was quick to redirect the conversation to herself. "If you're new, then you don't know about the party tomorrow."

"Party?" Kennedy asked. "They're still doing that after what happened last year?" She felt an elbow dig into her stomach. "Hey, ow." She glared at Caroline.

"It's a back to school thing at the Falls," Bonnie explained.

Stefan nodded, turning to look at Elena. "Are you going?"

"Of course she is," Bonnie and Kennedy answered together. Having both seen the glances Stefan and Elena kept sending each other's way, the duo had picked up on the mutual interest and decided to run with it.

A phone rang, and Kennedy glanced down at her cell. Reading the caller I.D as Mom, she got up from the table, grabbing her purse with her. She waved and mumbled out a quick goodbye before answering the call.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Dear, do you mind picking up some groceries on your way home?" Marian's voice came through the phone's speakers.

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Eat your vegetables, Kenn," Bryan instructed, fork raised and pointed at his daughter.

Kennedy glanced sheepishly up from her plate, feeling much like a five year old being commanded by their parent, before shrugging her shoulders. "Sorry, Dad. M'not really hungry."

Letting out a small laugh, Marian shook her head. "That's why we don't eat a big snack at the Grill before dinner."

"It was the first day back at school," Kennedy defended, twirling the green beans on her plate with her fork. "Everyone wanted to meet up afterwards to catch up."

Placing his napkin on the table and pushing his clean plate forward, Bryan sat up in his chair. "Everyone being the same five people you hung out with all summer, yeah?"

Kennedy laughed, nodding. "Yeah, except Oliver was working so we weren't really hanging out." She bit into a green bean. "Oh, and the new junior at school joined us at school—Stefan. I guess he just moved back in with his uncle. I think he has a thing for Elena. He was making the googly eyes at her in history class this morning."

Bryan's eyes raised at the information. "Stefan? He wouldn't happen to be a Salvatore, would he?"

"I think so." Kennedy shrugged her shoulders, not understanding the significance. "Why? Were you one of his doctors as a child or something? He said he used to live here, but his parents were in the military, so they moved around a lot."

Bryan picked up his empty plate, as well as his wife's and walked over to the sink. "Uh, yeah…Him and his brother both."

Marian turned towards her daughter. "You said he was interested in Elena? Isn't it a bit too soon for her to be getting back into a relationship? I mean, her and Matthew just broke up."

"Mom, they broke up months ago. Haven't talked to each other all summer, in fact. Although, I'm not sure Matt's ready to give up on them, but I think Elena's ready to move on with her life. Start fresh. I think she wants to get past all the sadness and negativity and be happy again."

Kennedy picked up her own plate and scraped the remaining green beans into the white trash bin in the dim pantry before handing it to her father. She leaned against the counter. "Besides, there are more important things than worrying about guys in life, and I'm sure Elena agrees. I'm not even positive she's interested in Stefan too, just that they seemed to click at school today."

The next morning went smoothly. Kennedy woke up on time and was dressed and ready by the time Bonnie came honking in her driveway with her Prius. However, Tanner's junior history class was not having the same luck as Kennedy. As she sat in the back, scribbling red marks across the practice exams the juniors had taken towards the end of class the day before, Mr. Tanner was getting frustrated with the students' lack of response to his lesson. Kennedy couldn't blame the students, though. Even she grew bored with his lectures, and she loved history. His monotone voice and bland classroom made his teaching style and environment boring and allowed his students to grow tired easily. It didn't help that this was an 8 o'clock class, and most of the students still wanted to be curled up in their cozy beds.

"The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls," Mr. Tanner continued, eyes focusing in on the back of the classroom. "How many casualties resulted in this battle? Ms. Bennett?"

346, Kennedy thought as she watched Bonnie's face fall and a small grimace take hold. "Um…a lot?" she answered, dropping her pen onto the desk. "I'm not sure. Like a whole lot."

Mr. Tanner shook his head, clearly not amused with Bonnie's witty response. "Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Ms. Bennett." And there was the reason everyone called Tanner an asshole behind his back. "Mr. Donovan? Would you like to take this opportunity to overcome your embedded jock stereotype?"

A quick shake of his head should have been enough of an answer in itself, but Matt decided to grace his teacher with a verbal response as well. "It's okay, Mr. Tanner, I'm cool with it."

Kennedy held back a giggle at Mr. Tanner's exasperated sigh. Sometimes she caught herself wondering why he even bothered teaching if he hated his students and didn't want to deal with smart-mouths, but then she remembered the high school's policy that all coaching staff had to also be teachers.

"Hmm, Elena? Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most significantly historical events?" Tanner had placed himself right in front of the brunette's desk, and even from the back of the classroom, Kennedy could tell how intimidating he appeared looming over Elena.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I—I don't know." Her eyes were downcast, and Kennedy felt sorry for her friend.

"I was willing to be lenient last year for obvious reasons, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break." Kennedy's eyes hardened, and the red pen slipped out of her grip and onto the tile floor. Unwilling to participate in a pity party was one thing, but wrongly informing Elena that her parents' deaths were not a legitimate excuse for knowing an answer on the second day of school was another. Tanner was such an asshole.

Kennedy began to raise her hand to inform Tanner the answer so he would back off the other students, but before her hand even reached mid-air, Stefan Salvatore's voice rang through the class.

"There were 346 casualties. Unless you're counting local civilians."

Mr. Tanner looked taken aback, and the fluorescent lighting seemed to cast a shadow on his face. He almost looked disappointed that he wasn't able to continue humiliating the rest of the class until he would then make Kennedy answer. "That's correct, Mister…?"

"Salvatore," Stefan answered.

Mr. Tanner nodded, leaning against his desk. "Salvatore. Any relation to the original settlers here at Mystic Falls?"

"Distant."

"Well, very good. Except—" Of course, there had to be something wrong with Stefan's answer. Tanner always had to find something wrong with everyone's answer. "Of course, there were no civilian casualties in this battle." Mr. Tanner turned back to the chalkboard, clearly having assumed the conversation was over.

Kennedy frowned at that. She distinctly remembered reading something in the library about there having been a fire at a church or something during that battle, but she couldn't remember the number of casualties or if anyone had actually been in the church that day.

"Actually," Stefan raised his voice, "there were 27, sir. Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great lost. The founder's archives are, uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner."

Kennedy's mouth dropped, and she heard the other students begin to murmur amongst themselves. No one had stood up to Tanner that way, at least not in their history class. The only one who any of them had heard of doing it before was Kennedy, and she had only did it on rare occasions with physical proof in hand to settle her case.

"Hmm…" was the only response the teacher gave.

Back at home, Kennedy had changed into a blue summer dress and laced up a white Keds. Tonight was the Back to School at the Falls party, and although she didn't seem like it, she wasn't one to miss a party. Partying was one of the only opportunities for Kennedy to let loose and have fun. Between work, school, track, church, and family commitments, she didn't have much room for relaxing and enjoying herself. Sure she'd read for pleasure or watch Gossip Girl before bed and hang out with her friends on the weekend, but sometimes a girl had to get out for more than an hour or two at a time and have some fun. Especially if that fun involved booze.

Grabbing her purse off its hook on the white door of her bedroom, Kennedy walked down the stairs. Reaching the living room, she plopped onto the brown leather couch next to her father. His eyes never strayed from his book. Sighing dramatically, she glanced around the room, mentally noting the clutter gathering on the coffee table—a few bills that needed to be paid, manila folders that were no doubt patient files, a couple of photos from their family trip to Washington D.C. last summer that her mother was just now getting around to scrapbooking. Kennedy picked one up, glancing at her sixteen-year-old-self standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

She let out another sigh, glancing back at her father.

"What?" He looked up. His glasses had fallen down and now rested on the middle of his nose.

"The Back to the Falls Party is tonight," she replied, a bright smile stretching across her face.

"And…?"

"And I was wondering if I could go. You let me last year, and I just wanted to make sure I was still allowed before I leave with Bonnie and Elena."

He placed the book down on top of the patient folders, and Kennedy recognized it as one of the ancient medical journals he collected in his home office. There seemed to be thousands of them lining his bookshelves. He gave her a look and opened his mouth to speak, but Kennedy interrupted before any words could spill out.

"Oh, come one. Are you really about to tell me no? You've let me the last three years. Why wouldn't it be okay now? It's my last chance to go to one!"

"Now, I haven't even said anything yet," he argued.

"I know that look," Kennedy explained, folding her arms.

"I'm just not sure it's a good idea. It's a school night, and with it being in the woods, I'm nervous. There was just an animal attack not a few towns over."

"Dad, I'll be fine. I promise! No drinking, no anything even remotely dangerous. I'll just be hanging out with Bonnie, Elena, Oliver, and Caroline all night, and I'll be home before you know it." She gave him a pleading smile, brown eyes begging for permission.

He shook his head. "Fine, fine. But you have to be home by 11. No later than 11, got it?"

"Got it," she muttered before seeing the look in his eyes. "Got it, sir," she said a bit more enthusiastically. She smiled, hugging him before rushing out the door. "Thanks, Dad!"

For a summer night in the south, the air was cool and dry against Kennedy's skin. She was leaning against one of the park's banisters, standing next to Elena and Bonnie. The music was loud, and the only sources of lighting were the bonfire warming the large group of teenagers surrounding it a few yards away and the string lights the sophomore class had set up an hour before the party began. Sipping on the punch, Kennedy could tell by the awful taste it had been spiked with more vodka than it should be. Next time, she'd have to suggest the freshmen weren't in charge of the drinks. They had been so eager to get drunk that one of them had poured a bit too much alcohol into the bowl. Kennedy's eyes scanned the area, and a smile spread across her face. Laughter and chatter filled the air as teenagers stood too close to each other and enjoyed the last freedom they would have until Christmas Break.

"Just admit it, Elena," Bonnie nagged, a smug grin across her face.

Elena sighed and pushed on her jacket sleeve. "Oh, okay, so he's a little pretty."

"He has that romance novel stare," Bonnie argued and nudged Kennedy to help her out.

"Oh, she's right." Kennedy nodded, tossing the empty cup into a trash can. "Those green orbs could pierce right through your soul. Plus, have you looked at his hair? He's definitely been catalogue ordered off a sports model magazine."

Elena laughed at her friends, running her fingers through her long hair.

"So where is he?" Bonnie asked, and the trio glanced around the party. None of them spotted him amongst the familiar faces of their classmates.

"I don't know." Elena's eyes brightened with an idea. "You tell me, you're the psychic one."

"Psychic?" Kennedy asked, eyebrows raised.

"Grams," she explained, and with that one word, Kennedy understood. Bonnie's grandmother was a very interesting lady and quite the character as well. According to Grandma Bennett, Bonnie and the rest of her family through her mother's side of the family were descended from witches, going back all the way to Salem. Growing up, the girls used to joke with Bonnie and pretended to cast spells on the kids who were mean to them in elementary school. Well, until Kennedy's mom found out and informed them it was not nice to make fun of Bonnie's grandmother nor was it appropriate to poke boys with a stick and tell them they'd turn into toads the next morning if they weren't nicer.

"Okay, so give me a sec. Grams says I have to concentrate." Bonnie closed her eyes, but Elena held up a finger to stop her.

"Wait, you need a crystal ball." Turning around, Elena glanced around until she found an empty beer bottle on the ground. "Tada."

"Now tell us the future, Bonnie the Mystic," Kennedy laughed as Elena handed the girl the glass bottle.

Bonnie reached for the glass, and her eyes widened as soon as her hand connected with Elena's. She frowned, and a brief second went by before she tore her hand away from the glass.

"What?" the other two girls spoke in unison.

"That was weird. When I touched you, I saw a crow."

"Oh, the omen of death..." Kennedy sang jokingly, taking the bottle and tossing into the trash.

"What?" Elena asked, head tilted and body leaned forward. Wait, she wasn't buying into this was she?

"A crow," Bonnie repeated. "There was fog, a man…" Seeing the look on Elena's face, Bonnie shook her head. "I'm drunk. It's the drinking. There's nothing psychic about it. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Kennedy agreed, looping her arm with Bonnie. "Wanna go get a refill?" With a nod as confirmation, Kennedy pulled the brunette with her. "Well, catch up with you later, okay?"

"Okay?"

It didn't take long for Kennedy and Bonnie to grab another round of drinks—a bottle of beer for Kennedy and another glass of punch for Bonnie. Hearing a laugh, the two spotted Oliver a few feet away, red solo cup in hand. As he brought a red solo cup to his lips, Oliver rolled his eyes, shoulder bumping with one of the guys from the football team. Hooking her thumb towards the blond, Kennedy motioned for Bonnie to follow her. By the time they reached him, Oliver had glanced up and noticed their presence.

"Well, if it isn't the Psychic and the Brainiac," he announced, lips curled up into a cheeky smirk and arm crossed over his chest.

"Ha ha. You're such a comedian," Kennedy spoke dryly.

He shrugged. "I know. It's a curse, what can I say."

Meanwhile, Bonnie's elbow connected with Kennedy's ribcage. "Ow," she mumbled, free hand rubbing her side. Why was she always getting elbowed?

"You told him?" Bonnie asked, eyebrows raised. It wasn't that Bonnie cared about Oliver knowing, but she didn't need the whole school knowing that her Grams was convinced she was a witch. It was bad enough most of Mystic Falls thought Grams was crazy every other day. Talk of witchcraft? In a small southern town? That was an easy way to get thrown into a mental hospital.

"When did I have a chance to tell him? I literally heard about this story two minutes ago."

"Elena told me," he interrupted the two of them. "Sometime earlier today when I passed her in the hall. So your Grams thinks your psychic?"

"Yeah, can we just—not talk about it?" Bonnie's voice softened as she took another sip of her punch. "Besides there's much more important things to be talking about."

"Like what?"

"Like you and Vicki," Kennedy interjected, raising her eyebrows. She watched as Oliver rolled his eyes. The news that he and Vicki Donovan were back together had spread through the school like wildfire, and although Kennedy had heard about the news from the horse's mouth, it didn't mean she hadn't taken the time to listen to what everyone else was saying.

Cheeks puffed out, Oliver sighed. "Yeah, Kenn, What about it?"

"I just—"

"We just care about you, Ollie." Bonnie interjected, and Kennedy nodded in agreement, eyes locked on the blond in front of them as Bonnie shrugged, an air of nonchalance surrounding her. "And we just want what's best for you."

Kennedy knew Oliver didn't like when the two of them ganged up on him about his relationship with the older Donovan, but to be fair, Oliver and Vicki had been the longest on-again, off-again relationship Mystic Falls High School had. The two had been at it since ninth grade, and Kennedy had never been a fan of it. When Oliver was dating Vicki, Tyler was. When neither of them were dating Vicki, the older Donovan could be found hanging out with Elena's kid brother Jeremy, smoking pot and doing whatever other drugs they could get their grubby hands on. Although it was obvious that both Oliver and Vicki loved each other, Kennedy just didn't have faith that he understood what would happen if their relationship truly ended. Tens of break-ups over the course of four years took enough of a toll on Oliver, yet every time, the two of them seemed to get back together. Kennedy just didn't want to see him get hurt when something happened, whether it was because the duo broke up or because Vicki got hurt from her poor life choices.

"Yeah, you guys, I know." Another sigh, his arms folded across his chest. "I swear you guys act like I don't know what I'm doing."

"No, Ollie. It's not that. We just want you happy, that's all." Bonnie's voice grew soft, a touch of sympathy lingered in her eyes.

The male's gaze fell, eyes locking on the beat up, white Chuck Taylor's that he'd managed to wear to a sole. The chatter between the three had grown to an awkward silence, and Oliver leaned back against a wooden post, his left hand used as support, right hand holding his cup of beer as he brought it back to his lips.

"Have you met the new guy? Stefan? Earlier in history, the two were giving each other googly eyes. We think Elena has the hots for him." Kennedy chirped, hoping to steer the conversation away from Oliver's relationship.

Slowly, a grin crept on the blond's face, and Kennedy smiled.

"Of course you guys do. I swear, that's all you chicks ever talk about. Us guys."

"That's not all we do," Kennedy threw at him, despite knowing he was joking. "Right, Bon?"

"Huh?" She drew her glance back to the duo. "Oh, yeah. We talk about other stuff. Like shoes, nail polish, clothes—we always talk about clothes, feminine stuff."

"Alright, alright. I've heard enough." Oliver shook his head, cringing from an imaginary chill.

Kennedy's grin grew, and she high-fived Bonnie.

"You guys are the worst," he groaned, lips holding back a smile.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy pushed at Oliver's shoulder lightly. "We aren't that bad. And either way, you still love us."

"Eh." he shrugged. He peeled his gaze away from the two of them, and Kennedy cleared her throat.

"Oliver!"

"What?!" Eyes immediately narrowed at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. A large huff and a playful roll of the eyes later, he finally gazed back at them.

"I guess I love you both," he teased.

"You better, or else I'll make your life a living hell with my so-called physic powers." Bonnie smirked.

Oliver threw his hands up in defense, and Kennedy let out a giggle. "Yes ma'am." Oliver laughed, bring the red solo cup back to his lips.

A few more drinks later, the party was still roaring, and everyone was having a good time. Kennedy, Oliver, and Bonnie were dancing by the bonfire with some of Kennedy's friends from track and Oliver's friends from football; however, their fun didn't last long when Elena's call for help rang over the loud music and chatty partiers.

The three glanced at each other before rushing over to the help their friends.

Matt had reached Elena and Jeremy first, spying his sister's bloody and unconscious body on the ground. "Vicki? Vicki, what the hell?!"

"What happened to her?" Oliver demanded, hovering over his bleeding girlfriend.

"Yeah, what happened to her?" Tyler repeated. His eyes glared accusingly at Jeremy, but Kennedy was quick to step in between Tyler and Jeremy. She didn't have time for any of the petty drama revolving around who was in love with Vicki and who should be dating her.

"Somebody! Call an ambulance!" Matt yelled, and Kennedy nodded, pulling out her phone as Tyler instructed everyone to give the poor girl some space. Meanwhile, Oliver had ripped off his t-shirt and was holding it against Vicki's neck while Matt tried to get a response out of her.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello? We're at the Mystic Falls Park, and someone's been seriously hurt. She's lying unconscious on the ground. We need an ambulance immediately."

"We'll have one on the way now, ma'am. We'd like to keep you on the line while it's on the way. Can you tell me how she's been hurt?"

Kennedy placed the phone against her hand. "Does anyone know what exactly happened?"

"It's her neck," Elena spoke up. "Something bit her. She's losing a lot of blood."

"Something bit her, and she's losing a lot of blood. Looks like it might have been an animal attack."

"Okay, can you apply pressure to the wound?"

"Yeah, we've got a t-shirt pressed against it now. Please hurry."

A few moments later, the ambulance wheeled Vicki and Matt to Mystic Falls General Hospital, leaving the teenagers to disperse and rid the evidence of alcohol from the park given the abundance of cops now at the party, gathering statements.

Kennedy had just finished giving her statement to the police, glad to have switched to water after just one glass of punch and one bottle of beer, when she saw Bonnie walking away from Elena with Caroline and Oliver in tow.

"Where are you three headed?"

Oliver sighed, rubbing at his hands. "M'heading to the hospital to keep Matt company while Vicki's in surgery. You two mind making sure Care gets home safe and sound?"

"I'll be fine, Ollie," Caroline insisted, but both Kennedy and Bonnie could hear the slight slur in her words.

"We've got her. Don't worry." Oliver nodded, patting Kennedy on the shoulder with the hand not covered in blood and walking away.

"So Mainline Coffee then?" Bonnie suggested. "Figured we can wait for news there and sober this one up while we're at it."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I could use a coffee before getting back to my folks."

"Let's go then."

Kennedy sighed, rubbing her hands against her face. She was exhausted, and although the coffee was delicious, it wasn't doing much on the whole keeping her awake bit.

"Are you sober yet?" Bonnie asked Caroline, glancing at the clock.

Caroline shook her head. "No."

"Well, keep drinking. I gotta get you home. I gotta get me home. It's—" Bonnie glanced at her wrist before realizing she wasn't wearing a watch. "What time is it?"

"11:45," Kennedy answered before the words sunk in. "It's 11:45. My dad's going to kill me. I was supposed to be home 45 minutes ago."

"Do you need a ride?" Bonnie asked, pushing away her coffee and reaching for her keys.

"No, no. I'll walk home. It's not too far from here. Besides, I'm already late. A few more minutes isn't going to kill me, and you're need here to get her in condition to deal with her mom. I'm sure the sheriff won't appreciate her daughter coming home drunk."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm positive. Stay. I'll see you guys tomorrow at school."

Kennedy stood up, grabbing her phone and purse before walking out of the coffee shop. She had just finished closing the door when her shoulder bumped into someone.

"M'sorry. I wasn't looking where I was—" She glanced up to meet a pair of intense blue eyes and raven hair. "—going."

"And we meet again. Where are you rushing off to, Kennedy?" he asked, leaning against the window to the coffee shop.

"Home. Out past my curfew."

"It's not even midnight," he argued.

She laughed. "My dad's a bit of a stickler for rules, so my curfew's a lot stricter than others around here."

"Need a ride?" He pointed to an older model of pale blue Camaro parked across the street.

Kennedy shook her head. She knew better than to ride in a car with a stranger, even when still a bit tipsy. "Sorry, but I'm already late, and my dad would freak even more if I was driven home by a boy. Especially one he's never met before."

"Ah, I get it. Well, have a safe walk home then."

"Thanks," she gave him a small grin and wave before walking off.

Weird.

"Do you know what time it is?" Bryan barked before Kennedy was even fully through the door of her house. She sighed, having expected this. Walking into the living room, she saw her father sitting in the same seat he'd been in when she left, the same medical journal in his lap.

"Ten minutes past midnight, I know. I was planning on being home on time, but Vicki Donovan got attacked by some animal after she went off in the woods by herself. Elena's kid brother found her, and I called for an ambulance. I had to stick around longer to give my statement to the deputies and such. I'm sorry, I meant to call, but by the time I remembered my phone had died."

Kennedy heard her father sigh and knew she was going to be let off the hook, if only reluctantly.

"I'm really sorry," she pleaded.

"I told you I didn't want you going, and just because I'm letting you off with a warning this time," he pointed his finger at her to emphasize his point. "doesn't mean this will happen again. Curfews are non-negotiable. Especially with the animal attacks in the area becoming more present. I don't want to receive a call from work saying you're in the hospital because a bear or cougar mauled you."

"Yes, sir," she nodded her head, backing up towards the stairs.

"Now go to bed. I'm sure your mother will have a few things to say about this in the morning as well."

With that, Kennedy scampered off to her bed, glad to be able to relax against the cotton sheets and sleep.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #tvd fanfiction #damon salvatore x oc #damon salvatore x reader #*ashtynwrites #*mine #*story: reborn #*ship: kennedy steele & damon salvatore #*muse: kennedy steele #long post for ts #[ hopefully tumblr doesnt eat my horizontal lines but it probably will sorry ]#[ i do apologize this is 9k i wrote like ... 5 years ago ]

30 notes · View notes

ridiculousyoungicarus · 4 years ago

Text

Self Para 001: If I Could Grant You Peace Of Mind

TWs: HIV, Self-Harm, Drugs (Heroin & Cocaine - not done but mentioned briefly), Eating Disorders (Balo’s intervention is mentioned), Abuse

Word Count: 2,716

Setting: Luxor’s Orleans, France Campus. Monday, September 21st, 2020. Early morning (about 1am - 4am-ish).

Everything going on with Balo was a mess, and no matter what anyone said, Zander still couldn’t fail to see how it wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t that supposed to be his job? Protecting her. It was the only thing he needed to be good at, and he failed at it. She’d be fine if Ivan was here; he’d always been better at taking care of her. It was a thought that grew more and more persistent as the days went by. He’d have never let her in a situation that resulted in something like this. If he’s been the biological son, Balo would be okay.

And right now, she was far from being okay. Her behavior had become concerning since movie night, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask Ivan for help. He’d been entirely unhelpful the last time he’d reached out concerned about their sister. Maybe if Zander could just-

“You’re actually starting to turn a little blue, holy shit.” Ches’s voice interrupts him from his thoughts. When did she get back? He doesn’t fight as she wraps a blanket around his shoulders and settles in next to him, glancing over to her as she rests her head on his shoulder. “Did you really miss me this much? Oh, my sweet baby boy, whatever will I do with you?”

While the nickname was always affectionate, the lack of teasing in her voice sends his thoughts for another loop. Usually, she used it to pick on him. Did she think he was overreacting?

“Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were back yet.” Although he supposed it made sense, she hadn’t taken time off of school for the funeral. She probably wouldn’t have gotten it excused given the situation.

“Well, it’d be kinda hard to attend classes from Virginia. But enough about me. How are you doing? Other than trying to get hypothermia, of course.” He wants to groan that he would not get hypothermia, that it wasn’t that cold, and her dramatics weren’t helpful. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate just how normal it was.

He’d missed normalcy.

“Well, I’m stuck with Jack, my parents disowned Balo, and she’s really scaring me. Nothing’s changed over the span of a weekend. You know how I feel.” It wasn’t the same as the last several times she had poked her head in, though. He’d had a lot more time to think since he’d last saw her.

“Is it the HIV or her mental health?”

Zander quickly tries to sort through their conversations in their mind. Had he let Balo’s diagnosis slip? But he’s yanked from his thoughts as the redhead beside him lifts her head and steals the corner of his blanket to wrap around herself. “You’re cold?”

“I’m still daydreaming about the 17° weather in Virginia, I know 6° isn’t bad, but yeah, I’m cold.” It takes him a few seconds to realize she’s on about Celsius, and he just lifts his arm to let sneak right in under it. “You didn’t answer my question, Zan. Is it her HIV diagnosis or her mental health scaring you?”

“You should really lower your voice; someone is going to overhear you if you don’t start whispering. Balo doesn’t want the entire school to know...”

“The only people awake at 1 am in this school are the insomniacs who are holed up in their rooms and the coke addicts who are way too busy snorting it off of Axel’s dick to care about what you and I are doing outside. Nobody is eavesdropping, and if they were, the rumors would be bullshit like ‘Ches and Zander are entirely too close, I caught them cuddling - they must be fucking.’ We go to school with shallow people who only care about themselves, remember? Nobody cares what we’re doing.” Ches rolls her eyes, “But, seriously I’m gonna keep asking you to tell me what’s on your mind. I know that look, something’s wrong. Please talk to me.”

“Oh, come on, nobody would buy that shit.” Zander knew it wasn’t the point, that he was just grasping at the little outs she was accidentally leaving in her words. “Even Jack would know to laugh that one out of the room.”

“Alekzander, please.”

“Do you nag everyone who doesn’t want to talk, or am I just special? I’m fine. I can handle what’s going on with Balo. I don’t need you mothering me, Hailey.” Still, when the redhead pulls away from him, it takes everything in his power to keep himself from reaching out to pull her back in. Was she mad at him? She didn’t seem angry, although the sudden removal of her body heat wasn’t a good sign.

Before he can start thinking of the words to amend the situation, Ches is standing up. “You’re right, I’m sorry. If you need me, I’ve got to do some studying in the library. Try to get some sleep at some point, the bags under your eyes are really starting to reduce you down to a solid 8.”

She leaves him the blanket when she walks away, and as he tugs it around tighter himself, he’s not sure if it’s a good thing. It was going to continually remind him he needed to take care of himself, that he was sitting outside in the middle of the night alone because he managed to scare off the one person who always seemed to notice he wasn’t okay.

Ivan probably wouldn’t have run Ches off, and Balo wouldn’t be in nearly as bad shape as she was if he was here. For a brief second, Zander reaches for his phone to text the man, but he pauses, stopping himself. He had enough on his plate with Balo without Zander contributing to it. So instead, he settles himself in, allowing himself to get lost in his thoughts.

—

Chessie ☀️: I’m still in the library. Don’t wake the guy at the desk, though; the poor thing just fell asleep. 😕

Zander’s hands are shaking as he reads the text through tears, already heading in the direction of the library. He tries to be quiet as he enters the room, passing the snoring man at the desk as he tries to find Ches. She always chose the back right corner when they were in Lake George, and sure enough, she was quietly pouring over her textbooks with a flashlight when he rounded the corner.

“No wine? Who are you, and what did you do with my Ches?” He cringes at the effect his tears had on his voice. It was bad enough that he was crying without his body making it evident to everyone around him he was trembling even if they weren’t looking.

“I’m testing the waters, thinking about cutting the wine out. A bit more productive, don’t you think?” For a moment, he thinks she might make a comment about the state he’s in, but she just pats the seat next to her as she shuts her textbooks. He’s silent as he sits down; the only sounds filling the room is the chronic snoring from the library’s front and his chair as it grazes across the floor. “But you’re not here for the wine.”

“I’m not.” He confirms, taking a deep breath as he finally removes the blanket she’d left him two hours prior and sets it on the table. “I came to talk if that’s okay.” No matter how many times he’d found himself at her door when he didn’t want to be alone, he still couldn’t suppress the concern that maybe this was going to be the time she turned him away. But she just nods, setting her flashlight onto the table.

“The floor is yours.”

“My parents disowned Balo, and I’ve never seen her like this. She’s always been so bright and cheerful and right now... Chessie, she gave me her sewing kit because she doesn’t trust herself not to misuse her rotary blade. And these things aren’t sudden; how much has been building up that I’ve missed? She won’t really talk to me, and given everything going on with Jack again, I’m pretty sure she’s not talking to anyone. It’s not like she’ll tell our brother. She was upset with me when I talked to him about Jack because I could have worried him.” He explains, “and that’s only the start of it- okay, what’s with the face?”

There was something about Ches’s pensive expression in the lowlight that distracted him, the way she pursed her lips as she listened to him talk. “I was just thinking that I’ve never heard you call Ivan your brother before. Balo’s brother, asshole, my parents disowned him, Ches you’re not allowed to follow him on Instagram to thirst over him that’s weird. Please carry on, I’m listening.”

“Don’t get used to it, I’m not making it a habit.” Still, Zander’s tears slow as a small chuckle briefly escapes from his body. “I can’t stop thinking that if he was here, Balo would be fine. Whatever caused this wouldn’t have happened. I just wish she’d tell me how this happened...”

“She doesn’t know, Zan. I know Jack’s clean, we were fucking - he’d have mentioned it if he wasn’t. Barton would have told her, she hasn’t been anywhere near the Keller boy in a year, and we’d know if she was doing heroin. I thought maybe that night when we took her to the ER, there were hours we can’t account for, but... if your parents disowned her.”

“I wouldn’t write off my father yet.” Zander hadn’t even considered him as a suspect, but he wouldn’t put it past the man to cover his track for the sake of appearances. Maybe there’d been blood on blood contact during the struggle? Balo had a pretty nasty gash on her forehead, and he had avoided his father afterward. “Or medical malpractice, for that matter. It’s happened with healthcare workers before, right? Fuck, Ivan really would have been able to stop this.”

“Zander, this isn’t your fault. You didn’t give Balo HIV, and your brother couldn’t have done more than you did. I know it’s hard, but this isn’t because of anything you did. You couldn’t have stopped this, just like I couldn’t have stopped my maman’s murder, and Fane couldn’t have prevented his parents’ car accident.” Ches’s nose doesn’t crinkle as she speaks; the telltale signs of her being dishonest were nowhere to be seen. Which likely meant she thought she was telling the truth, and while he didn’t believe her, his guilt could wait.

It was the least important thing going on; he knew that.

“I was a dick to Elliot.” He knows the words are sudden. That may be at the moment telling her he’d been mean to her boyfriend would rapidly make the situation worse.

Her green eyes blink, her head tilts to the slide slightly, almost like a puppy’s as she processes his words. Had Elliot not told her anything? “Why would you be a dick to Elli? Fuck. Que vais-je faire de vous?”

“Yell at me? Look, I know I shouldn’t have been so hard on your boyfriend. But he breathed near me and-”

“He breathed near you?” The concern in her voice makes Zander feel even worse than he would have if she’d just yelled at him. “That’s not like you. When did this happen?”

“Before movie night, after we got here.”

“After you learned about Balo.” For a brief moment, the snoring stops, and the panic on Ches’s expression leaves him questioning if they’re allowed to be in the corner they were occupying as they wait. Soon enough, the snoring resumes, and she speaks again, “I’m not mad at you. I want you to get along with him, and I expect you to apologize, but you’re not scaring me off that easily. We left off at you feeling inferior to your brother, please continue.”

“I don’t feel like I’m inferior to Ivan.” He protests, although as he tries to think of examples of how she was entirely off base, he realizes she might have a point. “But I can’t stop running through what if’s. What if he’d be able to stop it? What if he’d know how to help Balo right now? I didn’t ask him for help with her intervention and look at how well that went. She resents me for it now. What if I fuck this up, and she gets hurt because of it?”

“That’s not going to happen because you have me, you have Lucy and Avery, and as much as you hate it - we have Jack and Cait. They’d never let anything happen to her; if she tries something, one of us will grab her. She went to you about her sewing kit. Do you have it?” He nods yes in response to her question, and the girl in front of him relaxes, “from experience, people don’t ask for help unless they want to be stopped. Her coming to you was a good sign.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I was right about your inferiority complex and that you were stressing Balo’s mental health.”

“I hate you so much sometimes, you know that.” And yet he can’t help the fond smile as he says the words, the way the tension in his shoulders eases when she smiles back at him.

“I know. I’m just the worst sometimes, aren’t I?” She winks at him, “so what’s next on the list? If it’s money, you know she’s got two sugar mommies already, and I’m pretty sure we could convince Jack to be a sugar daddy if we can’t pull enough funds together to take care of her.”

“Two?”

“Barton? Carnifex families are loaded, I have no doubt in my mind if there’re issues affording her medication abroad if I can’t cover it completely, she’d lend me the money temporarily for B.” Ches shrugs, “so that should also ease the healthcare concerns. Correct? There’s no way in hell we’re not going to be able to manage this. She’s been taking her meds, and as long as they’re working medications have gotten to the point she’ll probably outlive you by a couple decades still.”

And as much as Zander hated the thought of asking anyone for money, the thought that maybe people would be willing to help if it became an issue was reassuring. “And here I thought you said you weren’t taking mind reading classes.”

“You’re just predictable. The day you aren’t stressing about money, we’re going to see pigs fly, and lotus storms consume the earth.” Ches jokes, “did we happen to cover everything? Wait, we haven’t discussed Jack being in your classes yet. Shit, maybe we needed the wine...”

“We don’t need wine. There’s not that much to say, he’s annoying, we’re getting stuck together, and I’m just going to have to deal with it.” He shrugs, “probably the most normal thing going on in our lives, come to think of it.”

“You ever realize it’s a bit fucked up Jackaboy acting up is considered normal at this school. I’m not complaining but...”

“If you ever tell him I actually appreciate him being Balo’s pet demon right now, I’ll never talk to you again.” He warns her. Jack would never let him live it down, and he was well aware it was fucked up. But Ches just smiles, shaking her head.

“Your secret’s safe with me. So, what else do you want to discuss?”

He thinks about it for a minute. Was there anything else he felt like he needed to get off his chest? There were the things he couldn’t find the words to say and the things that weren’t worth the effort left, but he couldn’t think of anything he needed to talk to her about. “What were you working on before I interrupted?”

“Well, you see...” Ches starts to open her textbook again as she starts to ramble about what she was working on, and he listens as she gushes eagerly. He doesn’t even realize just how tired he was until his eyes become too heavy to keep open. The last thing he notices before he falls asleep is a blanket being tucked around him as she continues to explain her literature homework.

4 notes · View notes

fight-for-humanity · 4 years ago

Text

Hunger

[cw: violence, swearing]

A dim glow of the street lamps illuminated the quiet town of Redacre. From this sight alone, one might make the assumption that it was a normal, peaceful town, where families gathered around the dinner table each evening to have a meal together and spend time in each other’s company, or where kids would go to school to meet up with their friends to laugh, joke, and talk about the most recent gossip or who they were going to junior prom with. But, I knew better. We all did. Dinner tables were often empty. Families were too tired to spend time together, either because they never slept or they dug down in the labyrinth hidden underneath the town all night. Innocent teen gossip was replaced by the somber air surrounding the discussion of who went missing the previous night.

And then there were kids like me, sorry bastards who were fortunate enough to hear Voices in our heads and wake up in the middle of the night in odd places where we didn’t initially close our eyes. I was a member of the esteemed Blackout Club who sought to disrupt the nightly operations of one of these mystifying Voices, often at the expense of a good night’s rest. Fortunately for me, it was the last objective of the night. Upon its completion, I would be able to head back to the boxcar for a quick nap before sneaking back home. Some nights, I had a group to keep me company, but not this night. Schedules clash and accidents happen, especially with the risky work we’re doing. I zipped up my black hoodie to stave off the cold Virginia air. I wanted to get this mission done as soon as possible.

Bzzzzzz.

I froze suddenly, then grimaced. Damn phone. I wish I could just turn it off during missions, but HQ insists we leave our phones on so they can track our progress and send us updates while we’re “out in the field”. Admittedly, it provides some insurance, in the odd case we get suppressed and need to be saved in the morning. Still, I can’t help but jump out of my shoes everytime it buzzes in my pocket. With a sigh, I retrieved the damn thing and looked at the message.

Your Stalker: “Behind you.”

A gasp escaped my lips. My blood ran cold at the sight of the text message. Reflexively, I twisted my head around to see a familiar face, one I hoped I wouldn’t see again. Aaron Costa, leaning against a tree and looking directly at me. A black bandana covered the lower half of his face, and he wore a signature white and red jacket. The last time I saw him, he tried to drag me to the red door, force me to live in an eternal slumber, listening to the same old song forever. He tried to make me a walking puppet for the Voice that was deemed worse than the others.

“Please. Don’t freak out,” he hushed before I could say anything, his hands raised half way in an attempt to appear unthreatening. It was a decent attempt, but at his height, he mostly towered over me. He’d be a threat to the average person. Still, for as much of a threat that he was, my eyes couldn’t help but wander to the scar down the side of his face. It was the battle wound I gave him when I managed to get away from him on that fateful night.

I took a step back. “What the hell do you want?” I hissed, teeth bared. I glanced left and right to look for possible escape routes. I might be able to outrun him. I knew for damn sure I could out maneuver him. The Club’s training made sure we could escape an enemy bigger than ourselves.

“I need your help, RK,” Aaron pleaded, pulling down his bandana and taking a step forward. In response, I took a couple steps back. If he gets within arm’s reach of me again, it’s game over. I’ll be at the red door before I know it, and I have no spare drone part to save me this time. He froze, noticing that I was putting space between us. “I’m…” he stammered. It was odd to see him flustered. He always had this air of calm around him, but I guess that’s just who I thought he was. It was just a ruse to get close to me, so he could convert me to his weird religion.

“I’m sorry about what I did. What I said about your brother was insensitive,” he continued. “I was just…” he paused, searching for words. “I didn’t expect you to respond like that. I thought I could show you how that club lies about us, how destructive they are, how much better it would be with us. I failed, so I felt like... it was the only way to keep you as my friend. It was desperate and stupid.” There was a certain honesty behind those brown eyes, imploring me to listen. I was such a sucker for sob stories, but the voice of reason in my head was too strong. I knew we could never be friends like we once were.

“Well, what the hell did you expect to happen?” I growled, tightly crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You chose your Voice over me, a person! A human being!” Aaron didn’t respond, his gaze sinking to the ground. Did he want to argue about it, but was holding his tongue? I wasn't sure. In a different town, with no Voices, we would have been friends. I couldn’t help but wonder how my other relationships would be different if the looming threat of Voices didn’t hang over everyone.

Here, in Redacre, I wasn’t afforded that opportunity. I always had to remember the grasp the Voices had on everyone, how much people tried to fill in missing puzzle pieces with them, to dull the emptiness and pain that was so common to the human condition. I had to remember what people were willing to do for the Voices. I could never forget. My honest friendship could never compete with a millennia of manipulation techniques. I’m not good enough. I would be thrown to the wolves easily, just like before.

After a moment of silence between us, my curiosity got the best of me. With a sigh, I asked, “What do you need help with? I’m not doing any stupid Chorus things.”

The tension in Aaron’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. “No. It’s nothing like that,” he explained. “We are...being hunted. By the Beast."

"The Beast?" I asked.

"The Hunter," he clarified. "Some of us have gone missing, and I know you have been making notes."

I arched a brow. "How do you know that?"

"Kids talk at school," he answered. "Please, RK. I don't want more people getting hurt. I just need more information so I can help protect them."

"You mean protect more Stalkers like you?" I gave him a skeptical look and planted my hands on my hips.

"No matter what you call them, they are still people," he responded with a frown.

I paused. Dammit, Aaron. He was right, in his own twisted sense. The thought of more people forced under the Hunter's sway hit a particularly sensitive nerve.

With a soft sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a flipbook. With reluctance in my tone, I held it out to him and said, “Here. These are the more recent field notes.”

Aaron reached out and took it, his eyes scanning the little pages as he flipped through them. “The Hunter is experimenting on people?” he asked.

“With these weird tablets, yeah,” I answered with a nod.

“And these curses…” He murmured, his face scrunching in confusion. He flipped the notebook around and pointed at a poorly drawn doodle of a person with sharp, gnashing teeth. “What does this mean?”

I couldn’t help but snerk at my own artistic talent. “That’s, uh, one of the curses.” That answer didn’t seem to work for Aaron. He still looked helplessly confused, and a little concerned. “It’s called the Hunter’s Hunger. It gives you, like… these cravings, where you just want to, like, bite someone. It’s like mental torture if you try to resist it.”

He frowned and flipped to a new page, taking a moment to study before looking back to me. “Can I keep some of these pages?”

“Yeah, whatever. The curses and stuff are the last four pages,” I said grudgingly. Aaron gave me a grateful smile as he ripped the pages out and handed the flipbook back to me. “Do you really not know anything about what’s going on with the Hunter? Are your people not told anything?”

Aaron’s lips pursed. “Anything we’re not told is to protect us and keep us safe. I trust them.” I let out a sigh at his response. Clearly, they weren’t being kept safe if Stalkers were disappearing, but he had such blind devotion that he’d be willing to sweep anything under the rug. Is that how they all are? Every kid who has an attachment to a Voice? Voices become so infallible that they can do nothing wrong?

“Hello? Someone there?”

Aaron and I both froze as a foreign baritone broke the silence of the night’s gentle ambience. The voice didn’t sound familiar, and judging by Aaron’s reaction, it wasn’t a Lucid or anyone he knew either. It definitely didn’t have that Lucid masked-sound to its tone.

“Come on. I knew I heard ya. Come out, come out,” the voice cooed.

“Who is-” I began to whisper, but Aaron halted me with a soft shush, his finger pressed against his lips. He turned around and slowly stepped towards the nearby house, pressing his back against the wall. I followed him as he peeked around the corner in order to take a look at the strange fellow for myself, but Aaron stuck out his arm to block me before I could go further. He turned his head and gave me a look of concern. I shot him a nasty look. Aaron really needs to do something about his annoying “save everyone” superhero attitude. With an annoyed sigh, I grabbed his wrist and pushed it down and out of my way. He didn’t try to hold me back again, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulders sulk.

A man that appeared to be in his early twenties walked down the street, looking under cars and behind corners for us. He wore torn up jeans and a loose black t-shirt. I looked a little closer and it looked like a rock band shirt with a colorful, abstract logo, but it wasn’t any band that I knew of. His shoulder-length dirty blond hair was pushed behind both of his ears.

“Greyson Burke,” Aaron whispered, his brows arched in surprise.

“You know him?” I looked up at him with a curious look.

“He was a senior at Central High when I was a freshman,” Aaron answered, his eyes still trained on Greyson. “After graduation, his band started playing at one of the local bars, but they stopped a few months ago. I thought their band split up, or something.”

Greyson was getting closer. I could see a wicked grin stretched across his face, his crazed green eyes still searching for the source of the voices he heard. A few more moments, and he would be upon us.

Aaron turned his body to me. “I’ll distract him. You go home, RK,” he told me. Sounds like a plan. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I was sure Aaron would be fine. He can handle himself. I gave him a nod as he stepped out of our hiding place out onto the street towards Greyson. I turned the other way and started sneaking back to the privacy fence, but I stopped. Curiosity got the better of me. I retracted my steps and peaked around the corner to watch the exchange.

“There you are. I knew I heard someone,” Greyson said with a sick grin. There was something off about his body language. The way he curled his fingers and dug his nails into the side of his pants. The way he would occasionally gnaw at his lower lip, and how he breathed through a partly open mouth. He wasn’t well. There was something wrong with him. He looked… hungry.

“What are you doing here, Greyson?” Aaron answered, his voice tense.

Greyson gave a nonchalant shrug, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wetten his lips. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d take a stroll, and look for a dance partner, y’know?” He took a step forward, approaching Aaron. “Is that… Is that you, Aaron? Aaron Costa?” He craned his neck forward, squinting his eyes to get a better look. “Damn, boy. You’ve gotten tall!” He threw his head back and laughed, hand holding his stomach. Recomposing himself, he wiped his eye with the back of his hand and took another step forward. “Have you been working out? You look strong. I bet you would make an excellent dance partner.” Aaron stood his ground, not responding as Greyson studied him. When his green eyes landed on the side of Aaron’s face, his grin grew wider. “Nice scar. Want a matching one on the other side?”

“Why don’t you just go home?” Aaron said, eyes narrowing. You wouldn’t think he was nervous by the tone of his voice, but I could tell he was by how he gently fidgeted with the corner of his jacket between his fingers.

Greyson released a piercing laugh. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to dance?”

“Are you really looking for a fight you can’t win?” Aaron responded with an incredulous look. He had a point. Greyson was a bit gangly, compared to Aaron. Plus, Aaron had height on him. You could easily make the initial impression that Aaron would overpower Greyson in a fight.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t know about that,” Greyson said with a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. “You might be a big bastard. But... I don’t play fair.” In a swift motion, Greyson pulled his hands out of his pockets and lunged at Aaron, his hand gripping a pocket knife. My eyes widened as I caught sight of the weapon, a breath catching in my throat. Aaron had a similar reaction and reacted quickly by grabbing Greyson’s wrist. I heard a growl from Greyson’s throat. “Come on, Aaron. Just a little bite!”

I stood paralyzed as the two struggled with each other. Aaron would still be fine, right? Of course he would win. Anxious thoughts continued to run through my head as the battle waged. Greyson was stronger than he appeared, and Aaron was wearing down. Block after block, dodge after dodge. The pocketknife caught his heavy, white jacket a couple times, ripping into the material that was fortunately thick enough to protect his skin. Maybe Chorus does care after all. Aaron couldn’t manage to get a hold on him to subdue him, and every punch he landed didn’t seem to phase his attacker. There was something unseen fueling him, some hunger.

Greyson shoved Aaron back against a sedan, his body slamming against the metal with a reverberating bang. Aaron grimaced and momentarily lost his footing, but caught himself by grabbing the trunk of the car. “Gah...Shit...” Wow. Aaron actually swears. It would have been funny if this was not a life or death situation. I had seen enough. Panic was settling in, and if I did not do something, Aaron would just turn in to another missing Stalker. I stepped out of my hiding spot and made a bee-line towards them both.

“This was fun. Sorry it’s over already,” Greyson taunted. He reversed the grip on the pocketknife and moved in. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my feet pounding against the pavement. With a battle yell, I barreled into Greyson, catching him by surprise and knocking us both to the ground. The pocketknife clattered against the concrete out of his reach.

I winced as I fell and twisted my head around to where Greyson landed. On his hands and knees, he shook his head, hair draping over his face. He slowly turned towards me. “RK...RK....RK… There you are. Did you want to play too?” he growled as he stood, his face splitting into a wide smile. I hoped I bought Aaron enough time to recover.

I scrambled to my feet, but before Greyson could change his target, Aaron moved behind him and slipped his arms underneath his armpits, locking his hands behind his neck. Greyson struggled to free himself from the hold, his arms flailing in the air. Aaron twisted his body and threw Greyson against the car, his head smacking into the window and shattering the glass. Greyson fell limp to the pavement, shards falling around him.

I flinched at the sight, but I was distracted by Aaron’s urgent plea. “Leave him.” Together, we ran off away from the street and houses, the blaring car alarm becoming more and more distant the farther we ran. Soon, we were surrounded by trees, only the soft glow of Redacre’s lights visible over the dense foliage.

“I told you to go home,” Aaron said after twisting around to face me. He was in bad shape and struggled to catch his breath.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Aaron. You’d be dead if I did,” I retorted, looking at him defiantly.

Guilt flashed across his expression, but he managed a soft smile and held out his hand, extending it towards me. “Thank you for having my back. I hope we can be friends again,” he said to me.

I looked at his hand, lips pursed into a frown. A long moment passed between us before I turned my body. “Be careful on your way home, Aaron,” I gave him those parting words, pulling my hoodie over my head as I walked away.

Never again.

#the blackout club

4 notes · View notes