#every day I pray I can find a listing for some of the old garage kits of her there r some cool as fuck ones

[tillman]

I tucked them all in

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

Practically Magic Chapter One - Homecoming

Summary:

Growing up in the same tiny mountain town, Y/N Owens and Dean Winchester despised each other. The only thing they ever agreed on was their need to escape. Life took them in opposite directions and neither of them ever looked back.

So, when their paths cross over a series of gruesome murders in their hometown it was no surprise that old friction heated up again.

Dean never dreamed he’d be teaming up with a psychic, the FBI frowned on that sort of thing, but he was desperate. When that psychic turned out to be Y/N Owens, Dean knew two things for sure. One, Y/N was the real deal and two, he was in real trouble.

Pairing: Agent!Dean x Psychic!Reader, Dean x Reader, AU Dean x You

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Bobby Singer

Warnings: Slow Burn, Serial Killer Elements, Witches, Haters to Lovers, Claustrophobic Elements, Murder Scenes

Author’s Notes: This is an AU taking elements from the film Practical Magic and applying them to a fictional world where Dean Winchester is an FBI Agent. You will find parallels from that movie here, some quotes and other elements that capture the essence of the world of the Owens Witches. Hopefully!

Additional Author’s Notes: This is a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type.

Additional Additional Author’s Notes: This was originally all one chapter and then I realized how long it was so you get two chapters posting at once! Call it an early Halloween present! Thank you all for your enthusiasm in anticipation of this story, hope you love it!

Chapter One: Homecoming

Word Count: 2697

Masterlist Practically Magic Masterlist

“My darling girl, when are you going to understand that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage.” – Aunt Francis Owens, Practical Magic

Home. You were going home. After nearly eighteen months on a book tour that hit every state in the union and another twelve in L.A. working the film adaptation, Y/N Owens was going home.

The Witch in the Well had been a labor of love. A twisted fairy tale that was more than a little autobiographical. It shot to the top the New York Times best seller list and stayed there for a year. Like a comet streaking across the heavens, it came out of nowhere and took the world by storm. There were whispers early on calling you the next J.K. Rowling. Frankly, that was a can of worms on far too many levels. All you wanted to do was write, tell stories. To have enough success to pay your rent and buy a new pair of boots.

Your publicist had never seen anything like it. Everything was a green light. You were King Midas, everything you touched turned to gold. Unbelievable good luck. One in a million. A lightning strike! You had your suspicions that your family had used their collective mystical influence to tip the scales of the universe in your favor. Of course, you had no real proof. They were far too crafty to leave any sort of detectable evidence.

When you pressed the issue with your grandmother over a bottle of apple wine, she gave you the only confirmation you’d ever get.

Bah! People pray morning, noon, and night for the tiniest thing! Pray to make a yellow light. Pray the football team wins the big game. Pray the wife doesn’t notice the lipstick on the husband’s collar. Your book is brilliant and bound to be a success. It was only a matter of the right people seeing it. Call it luck if it suits you, but the universe has a way of balancing itself. After all this time, I’d say you were due for a bit of the good stuff.

Good stuff indeed! One minute you were renting a room above a garage in Portland, tending bar at night while you wrote during the day. The next you were checking your luggage on a first-class flight bound for New York. You had interviews on the morning shows and meetings with Hollywood executives in five-star restaurants. Five minutes of fame turned into a full-blown career that was not showing any sign of slowing down.

Of course, you’d never been any damn good at slowing down anyway.

A smile curved your lips as your foot pressed the accelerator. The Italian sportscar increased its already impressive speed, smooth as silk as it hugged the sharp curves of the narrow, mountain road. Blood red with leather seats, state of the art sound system, and a ridiculous amount of horsepower. Sex on wheels, it was purely to show off and you knew it. Going home was never easy for you. It meant facing reminders of a difficult childhood.

When your publicist suggested using your hometown as the location to launch the release of your second book, you immediately refused. It was tiny, remote, and no place you ever wanted to go back to. Unfortunately, you used it as the setting for your story. It put Silverton on the map in a big way. With the excitement already buzzing around the movie, it made good business sense to have a big bash for the next installment right where is all started. So, you relented. But you’d be damned if you were going to slink back quietly. Go big or go home. In this case, both.

You were too deep into Pink’s latest album to notice the blue and red flashing lights in your review. It took the sirens sounding to finally catch your attention. “Fuck,” you muttered, noting your speed at well over 100 mph. You quickly slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. A simple charm for luck with the law passed your lips as you reached into the glove box and rolled down the window.

“Ma’am, do you have a valid reason for driving fifty over the speed limit?”

The registration and insurance papers kept sliding away from your fingertips. “Damn it,” you cursed, stretching further into the car. “Sorry, officer… this is a new car and I’m not really used to it.”

“Yeah, we don’t get many Maserati’s…. Y/N?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of your name in the pleasing baritone voice. The sheriff’s uniform and mirrored aviators suited him. No longer the boy you grew up with, still you’d recognize him anywhere, “Holy shit… Sam?”

He removed his sunglasses and smiled that lopsided smile that was oh so familiar. “Y/N Owens. It’s been a long time.”

“It’s been a lifetime.” You gave him an appraising once over. You had to admit, the years had been good to him. The Sam you remembered was a lanky, shaggy haired, over-grown puppy dog. A bit of a goofball but top of the class smart, and sweet as could be.

That first day of grade school, when everyone else avoided you like the plague, Sam came right up to you. Unbothered by the rumors that swirled around your family since before you were born.

“Hi, is it okay if I sit here?”

You looked up from your untouched lunch and saw a boy from your class standing beside you with a tray in his hands. You were completely alone. All of the other kids had clustered together on the other side of the cafeteria. Even the tables surrounding yours were empty. You were used to it and learned to be content with your own company. But being used to it didn’t make it easy.

“Hey, Sam! Over here!” A group of boys called to him, but he didn’t acknowledge them. He just kept smiling expectedly at you.

You always had a little trouble making friends. You seemed to say the wrong thing all the time. You’d blurt out secrets having no idea they were never meant to be uttered. Gran called it your gift, but it didn’t feel like one.

But Sam seemed different, felt different. He felt kind. When he smiled his eyes smiled too.

You shrugged, turning your attention back to the well-worn book in your lap. “Sure.”

“What are you reading?”

You held up the cover for him to see. It was one of the Chronicles of Narnia series.

Sam dug into his mac and cheese, “Cool! That’s a good one. Voyage of the Dawn Treader is my favorite, though.”

Your eyes widened. You were an advanced reader for your age, most of your classmates hadn’t even heard of those books let alone read them. “Mine too! I’ve read it like ten times!”

He grinned at you, “I’m Sam, by the way. Sam Winchester.”

You smiled back, a genuine smile for the first time that day. “Y/N Owens.”

“Sam Winchester turned Johnny Lawman. You look good kid; the badge works for you.”

“Kid.” Sam repeated with a smirk, “We’re the same age, Y/N. Although I’d say time’s been better to you. I found three gray hairs this month.”

“You poor bastard.”

“Seriously Y/N, this car,” he ran his hand over the open window, “The book selling business must be booming.”

“It is, but don’t be too impressed. It’s a rental,” you confessed. “A bribe actually, from one of the studios vying for the production rights.”

Sam whistled, “Life in the fast lane, huh?”

“Something like that. Figured what the hell, if I had to go home, may as well be in style. Besides, I only have it for a few days. The dealership in Denver is picking it up at the end of the week.”

“So, you’re staying for a while?” Sam couldn’t help sounding hopeful. “I was surprised when Viv said you were having your release party in Silverton. I didn’t think you’d come back, like ever.”

You weren’t sure how to answer. Sam was right, you never intended to come back. But now that you were just a few miles away from home, you felt a pull you hadn’t expected. The closer you got, the stronger it got. Something down deep was saying you were right where you needed to be.

“There’s just no telling what the future will bring.”

Sam chuckled, “Yeah okay, well you keep this beauty under eighty or your future is going to include a hefty speeding ticket.”

You winked, “No promises.”

He patted the roof of your car and put his sunglasses back on as he straightened to his impressive height. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

Silverton, Colorado. A bustling mining town when the west was wild, now little more than a brief stop on the tourist trail. A collection of historic store fronts lined main street. Largely unchanged from the day you left, except for the miraculous addition of the upscale bar in the Hotel Baker. Smack in the middle of everything stood The Compendium.

The ornate, two-story building once housed the general store and had been in your family since Silverton was first settled. Generations of Owens’ had provided the community with everything from dry goods to ammunition, usually with a bit of mystical advice on the side. Not all that different from today. When your grandmother, Vivienne took it over she moved the magic out of the shadows and put it front and center.

Hells bells, everyone knows what we are anyway! Time to come out of the broom closet!

Gran’s motto was if you couldn’t find what you were looking for in her store, it probably wasn’t worth finding in the first place. Which is how an eclectic shop like hers was able to draw customers from five states over. Gran was a finder; it was her gift. Misplaced car keys, missing estate documents, lost loves. You need something impossible? Odds were Viv Owens had it in her back room.

You checked your reflection briefly in the front display window, your eye catching a huge poster advertising a book signing and launch party. A blown-up picture of you from the dust jacket of the book stared back. Your nose wrinkled. You’d spent most of your life in this town trying to go unnoticed, now you were about to step into the biggest spotlight Silverton had ever seen.

Determined to play your part, you squared your shoulders and pulled open the leaded glass door. The place was packed. Just like the rest of downtown, there were people everywhere. Not even the Winter Festival brought this many strangers to town. Your publicist was right, this was going to be big.

You wove your way through the crowd, noting the impressive display of The Witch in the Well booksin the middle of the main floor. It fit right in with the rest of Gran’s inventory of altar tools and curios. It smelled the same, dusty books and candle wax. It felt the same.

One of Gran’s many cats stopped grooming itself to peer at you. It’s bright, amber eyes gleaming against thick, black fur. With the indifference of bored royalty, it flicked it’s tail and sauntered off towards the back of the shop. You followed.

“The cards said you’d be along today.”

“So did the itinerary I sent you,” You replied, stepping through the velvet curtains that hid the entrance to your grandmother’s office. The massive, white dog that was stationed at her feet came up to greet you. You rubbed behind her ears affectionately,

“And I texted you this morning.”

She kept her silver head bent over the ledger, entering numbers long-hand, as she plucked up a tarot card and held it up for your inspection.

Daughter of Swords. Truth and courage.

“Fair enough.”

Viv snorted and shut the ledger with a definitive snap. “I like the red,” she said, waving a hand at you, “That color always suited you.”

You ran a hand through your newly cut and colored locks. You never liked the way you looked. Your hair was a mousy cross between blonde and brown. Your short frame always seemed to carry extra pounds and your dark eyes made you look more serious than you were.

When the L.A. stylist asked you what you wanted her to do, you gave her free rein.

“Anything, just not this.”

“Let’s try this again, Sweetness. How do you want to feel?”

You stared at your reflection, determined that it would never be the same. “Strong.”

She cut your hair short, very short. Leaving a long, dramatic side-sweep of bangs in the front and dyed it a deep auburn. It transformed your face from somber to sexy. Made your eyes seductive and accented cheekbones you never noticed before. You worked with a trainer. While you never met the Hollywood standard, you did develop some muscle mass and a new appreciation for your body. Flaws and all.

“Thanks, Gran.”

Vivienne Owens stood from her desk. You’d always admired her effortless beauty. Wand slender with thick silver hair and deep, brown eyes that matched your own. She took your chin in her hand and gave you a long, hard look before nodding with approval.

A mischievous smile split her face and she winked. “Welcome home, darling girl.”

You smiled back and watched as she plucked a dry-cleaning bag from the coat rack and disappeared behind the carved dressing screen in the corner.

“You know you’re tempting the gods by hosting your shindig on Samhain.”

You perched on the edge of her desk, petting the black cat who had decided to reappear. “Donna thought it would be clever marketing to have it on Halloween night. You were the one who offered up the shop as a venue.”

Her voice was muffled through the rustle of clothes, “Its practically a blaspheme. Your cousins in Connecticut were particularly scandalized. I don’t care what your publicist says, it’s simply not done.”

Your ears perked up, “Connecticut? You mean Agatha and Aiden?” Your fingers stilled in the cat’s fur, “They aren’t coming, are they?!”

“Y/N, everyone is coming. The entire Owens clan has already R.S.V.P.’d. Which reminds me, the house is already filled with wayward relatives, so you’ll be bunking in the carriage house.”

“Fuck me.”

“Another blaspheme,” she admonished you. “I should charge you for that.”

You made a face at the screen. You were a grown woman, damn it. You were entitled to speak as you pleased. “Put it on my tab.”

“Rates have gone up, its twenty for the f-word. And don’t roll your eyes.”

Viv came out from behind the screen, smoothing her hands down her sides. The dress was elegant, just a simple wrap in black paired with silver jewelry. Perfection. Your Gran could have given Jackie Kennedy a run for her money.

“Got a hot date?”

Viv smiled and a man’s voice came through the thick curtain, “Knock, knock.”

Your eyes widened as a familiar face came through from the store, “Fuck me.”

“That’s another twenty.”

“Y/N, good to see you,” Bobby held out a wide hand to you, “Sam mentioned you were back.”

You shook his hand. Your eyes darting between the pair, and you wondered how long this had been going on. “Sheriff Singer.”

He chuckled, remarkably good natured. He wore a suit, an actual suit! Beard trimmed, hair combed, spicey aftershave. Almost unrecognizable from the man you knew growing up.

The Bobby Singer you remembered was a scruffy-looking, whiskey soaked, hard ass.

“Bobby is fine. Sheriff Singer is what the kids call me when I bust ‘em for drinking beer behind the bleachers.”

“Bob and I are going out for dinner,” Viv informed you as Bobby helped her into her coat. “Lock up when you leave and take Juno with you. Her kibble is in the mudroom, she gets three scoops.”

Bobby couldn’t help smiling at your bewildered expression. “Have a nice night, Y/N.”

The happy couple sailed out through the curtains, and you frowned down at Juno who thumped her tail in response.

“It’s great to be home.”

[trektraveler]

Practically Magic

Chapter One: Homecoming

Summary:

Growing up in the same tiny mountain town, Y/N Owens and Dean Winchester despised each other. The only thing they ever agreed on was their need to escape. Life took them in opposite directions and neither of them ever looked back.

So, when their paths cross over a series of gruesome murders in their hometown it was no surprise that old friction heated up again.

Dean never dreamed he’d be teaming up with a psychic, the FBI frowned on that sort of thing, but he was desperate. When that psychic turned out to be Y/N Owens, Dean knew two things for sure. One, Y/N was the real deal and two, he was in real trouble.

Pairing: Agent!Dean x Psychic!Reader, Dean x Reader, AU Dean x You

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Bobby Singer

Warnings: Slow Burn, Serial Killer Elements, Witches, Haters to Lovers, Claustrophobic Elements, Murder Scenes

Author’s Notes: This is an AU taking elements from the film Practical Magic and applying them to a fictional world where Dean Winchester is an FBI Agent. You will find parallels from that movie here, some quotes and other elements that capture the essence of the world of the Owens Witches. Hopefully!

Additional Author's Notes: This is a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type.

Additional Additional Author's Notes: This was originally all one chapter and then I realized how long it was so you get two chapters posting at once! Call it an early Halloween present! Thank you all for your enthusiasm in anticipation of this story, hope you love it!

Chapter One: Homecoming

Word Count: 2697

“My darling girl, when are you going to understand that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage.” – Aunt Francis Owens, Practical Magic

Home. You were going home. After nearly eighteen months on a book tour that hit every state in the union and another twelve in L.A. working the film adaptation, Y/N Owens was going home.

The Witch in the Well had been a labor of love. A twisted fairy tale that was more than a little autobiographical. It shot to the top the New York Times best seller list and stayed there for a year. Like a comet streaking across the heavens, it came out of nowhere and took the world by storm. There were whispers early on calling you the next J.K. Rowling. Frankly, that was a can of worms on far too many levels. All you wanted to do was write, tell stories. To have enough success to pay your rent and buy a new pair of boots.

Your publicist had never seen anything like it. Everything was a green light. You were King Midas, everything you touched turned to gold. Unbelievable good luck. One in a million. A lightning strike! You had your suspicions that your family had used their collective mystical influence to tip the scales of the universe in your favor. Of course, you had no real proof. They were far too crafty to leave any sort of detectable evidence.

When you pressed the issue with your grandmother over a bottle of apple wine, she gave you the only confirmation you’d ever get.

Bah! People pray morning, noon, and night for the tiniest thing! Pray to make a yellow light. Pray the football team wins the big game. Pray the wife doesn’t notice the lipstick on the husband’s collar. Your book is brilliant and bound to be a success. It was only a matter of the right people seeing it. Call it luck if it suits you, but the universe has a way of balancing itself. After all this time, I’d say you were due for a bit of the good stuff.

Good stuff indeed! One minute you were renting a room above a garage in Portland, tending bar at night while you wrote during the day. The next you were checking your luggage on a first-class flight bound for New York. You had interviews on the morning shows and meetings with Hollywood executives in five-star restaurants. Five minutes of fame turned into a full-blown career that was not showing any sign of slowing down.

Of course, you’d never been any damn good at slowing down anyway.

A smile curved your lips as your foot pressed the accelerator. The Italian sportscar increased its already impressive speed, smooth as silk as it hugged the sharp curves of the narrow, mountain road. Blood red with leather seats, state of the art sound system, and a ridiculous amount of horsepower. Sex on wheels, it was purely to show off and you knew it. Going home was never easy for you. It meant facing reminders of a difficult childhood.

When your publicist suggested using your hometown as the location to launch the release of your second book, you immediately refused. It was tiny, remote, and no place you ever wanted to go back to. Unfortunately, you used it as the setting for your story. It put Silverton on the map in a big way. With the excitement already buzzing around the movie, it made good business sense to have a big bash for the next installment right where is all started. So, you relented. But you’d be damned if you were going to slink back quietly. Go big or go home. In this case, both.

You were too deep into Pink’s latest album to notice the blue and red flashing lights in your review. It took the sirens sounding to finally catch your attention. “Fuck,” you muttered, noting your speed at well over 100 mph. You quickly slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. A simple charm for luck with the law passed your lips as you reached into the glove box and rolled down the window.

“Ma’am, do you have a valid reason for driving fifty over the speed limit?”

The registration and insurance papers kept sliding away from your fingertips. “Damn it,” you cursed, stretching further into the car. “Sorry, officer… this is a new car and I’m not really used to it.”

“Yeah, we don’t get many Maserati’s…. Y/N?”

You whipped your head around at the sound of your name in the pleasing baritone voice. The sheriff’s uniform and mirrored aviators suited him. No longer the boy you grew up with, still you’d recognize him anywhere, “Holy shit… Sam?”

He removed his sunglasses and smiled that lopsided smile that was oh so familiar. “Y/N Owens. It’s been a long time.”

“It’s been a lifetime.” You gave him an appraising once over. You had to admit, the years had been good to him. The Sam you remembered was a lanky, shaggy haired, over-grown puppy dog. A bit of a goofball but top of the class smart, and sweet as could be.

That first day of grade school, when everyone else avoided you like the plague, Sam came right up to you. Unbothered by the rumors that swirled around your family since before you were born.

“Hi, is it okay if I sit here?”

You looked up from your untouched lunch and saw a boy from your class standing beside you with a tray in his hands. You were completely alone. All of the other kids had clustered together on the other side of the cafeteria. Even the tables surrounding yours were empty. You were used to it and learned to be content with your own company. But being used to it didn’t make it easy.

“Hey, Sam! Over here!” A group of boys called to him, but he didn’t acknowledge them. He just kept smiling expectedly at you.

You always had a little trouble making friends. You seemed to say the wrong thing all the time. You’d blurt out secrets having no idea they were never meant to be uttered. Gran called it your gift, but it didn’t feel like one.

But Sam seemed different, felt different. He felt kind. When he smiled his eyes smiled too.

You shrugged, turning your attention back to the well-worn book in your lap. “Sure.”

“What are you reading?”

You held up the cover for him to see. It was one of the Chronicles of Narnia series.

Sam dug into his mac and cheese, “Cool! That’s a good one. Voyage of the Dawn Treader is my favorite, though.”

Your eyes widened. You were an advanced reader for your age, most of your classmates hadn’t even heard of those books let alone read them. “Mine too! I’ve read it like ten times!”

He grinned at you, “I’m Sam, by the way. Sam Winchester.”

You smiled back, a genuine smile for the first time that day. “Y/N Owens.”

“Sam Winchester turned Johnny Lawman. You look good kid; the badge works for you.”

“Kid.” Sam repeated with a smirk, “We’re the same age, Y/N. Although I’d say time’s been better to you. I found three gray hairs this month.”

“You poor bastard.”

“Seriously Y/N, this car,” he ran his hand over the open window, “The book selling business must be booming.”

“It is, but don’t be too impressed. It’s a rental,” you confessed. “A bribe actually, from one of the studios vying for the production rights.”

Sam whistled, “Life in the fast lane, huh?”

“Something like that. Figured what the hell, if I had to go home, may as well be in style. Besides, I only have it for a few days. The dealership in Denver is picking it up at the end of the week.”

“So, you’re staying for a while?” Sam couldn’t help sounding hopeful. “I was surprised when Viv said you were having your release party in Silverton. I didn’t think you’d come back, like ever.”

You weren’t sure how to answer. Sam was right, you never intended to come back. But now that you were just a few miles away from home, you felt a pull you hadn’t expected. The closer you got, the stronger it got. Something down deep was saying you were right where you needed to be.

“There’s just no telling what the future will bring.”

Sam chuckled, “Yeah okay, well you keep this beauty under eighty or your future is going to include a hefty speeding ticket.”

You winked, “No promises.”

He patted the roof of your car and put his sunglasses back on as he straightened to his impressive height. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

Silverton, Colorado. A bustling mining town when the west was wild, now little more than a brief stop on the tourist trail. A collection of historic store fronts lined main street. Largely unchanged from the day you left, except for the miraculous addition of the upscale bar in the Hotel Baker. Smack in the middle of everything stood The Compendium.

The ornate, two-story building once housed the general store and had been in your family since Silverton was first settled. Generations of Owens’ had provided the community with everything from dry goods to ammunition, usually with a bit of mystical advice on the side. Not all that different from today. When your grandmother, Vivienne took it over she moved the magic out of the shadows and put it front and center.

Hells bells, everyone knows what we are anyway! Time to come out of the broom closet!

Gran’s motto was if you couldn’t find what you were looking for in her store, it probably wasn’t worth finding in the first place. Which is how an eclectic shop like hers was able to draw customers from five states over. Gran was a finder; it was her gift. Misplaced car keys, missing estate documents, lost loves. You need something impossible? Odds were Viv Owens had it in her back room.

You checked your reflection briefly in the front display window, your eye catching a huge poster advertising a book signing and launch party. A blown-up picture of you from the dust jacket of the book stared back. Your nose wrinkled. You’d spent most of your life in this town trying to go unnoticed, now you were about to step into the biggest spotlight Silverton had ever seen.

Determined to play your part, you squared your shoulders and pulled open the leaded glass door. The place was packed. Just like the rest of downtown, there were people everywhere. Not even the Winter Festival brought this many strangers to town. Your publicist was right, this was going to be big.

You wove your way through the crowd, noting the impressive display of The Witch in the Well books in the middle of the main floor. It fit right in with the rest of Gran’s inventory of altar tools and curios. It smelled the same, dusty books and candle wax. It felt the same.

One of Gran’s many cats stopped grooming itself to peer at you. It’s bright, amber eyes gleaming against thick, black fur. With the indifference of bored royalty, it flicked it’s tail and sauntered off towards the back of the shop. You followed.

“The cards said you’d be along today.”

“So did the itinerary I sent you,” You replied, stepping through the velvet curtains that hid the entrance to your grandmother’s office. The massive, white dog that was stationed at her feet came up to greet you. You rubbed behind her ears affectionately,

“And I texted you this morning.”

She kept her silver head bent over the ledger, entering numbers long-hand, as she plucked up a tarot card and held it up for your inspection.

Daughter of Swords. Truth and courage.

“Fair enough.”

Viv snorted and shut the ledger with a definitive snap. “I like the red,” she said, waving a hand at you, “That color always suited you.”

You ran a hand through your newly cut and colored locks. You never liked the way you looked. Your hair was a mousy cross between blonde and brown. Your short frame always seemed to carry extra pounds and your dark eyes made you look more serious than you were.

When the L.A. stylist asked you what you wanted her to do, you gave her free rein.

“Anything, just not this.”

“Let’s try this again, Sweetness. How do you want to feel?”

You stared at your reflection, determined that it would never be the same. “Strong.”

She cut your hair short, very short. Leaving a long, dramatic side-sweep of bangs in the front and dyed it a deep auburn. It transformed your face from somber to sexy. Made your eyes seductive and accented cheekbones you never noticed before. You worked with a trainer. While you never met the Hollywood standard, you did develop some muscle mass and a new appreciation for your body. Flaws and all.

“Thanks, Gran.”

Vivienne Owens stood from her desk. You’d always admired her effortless beauty. Wand slender with thick silver hair and deep, brown eyes that matched your own. She took your chin in her hand and gave you a long, hard look before nodding with approval.

A mischievous smile split her face and she winked. “Welcome home, darling girl.”

You smiled back and watched as she plucked a dry-cleaning bag from the coat rack and disappeared behind the carved dressing screen in the corner.

“You know you’re tempting the gods by hosting your shindig on Samhain.”

You perched on the edge of her desk, petting the black cat who had decided to reappear. “Donna thought it would be clever marketing to have it on Halloween night. You were the one who offered up the shop as a venue.”

Her voice was muffled through the rustle of clothes, “Its practically a blaspheme. Your cousins in Connecticut were particularly scandalized. I don’t care what your publicist says, it’s simply not done.”

Your ears perked up, “Connecticut? You mean Agatha and Aiden?” Your fingers stilled in the cat’s fur, “They aren’t coming, are they?!”

“Y/N, everyone is coming. The entire Owens clan has already R.S.V.P.’d. Which reminds me, the house is already filled with wayward relatives, so you’ll be bunking in the carriage house.”

“Fuck me.”

“Another blaspheme,” she admonished you. “I should charge you for that.”

You made a face at the screen. You were a grown woman, damn it. You were entitled to speak as you pleased. “Put it on my tab.”

“Rates have gone up, its twenty for the f-word. And don’t roll your eyes.”

Viv came out from behind the screen, smoothing her hands down her sides. The dress was elegant, just a simple wrap in black paired with silver jewelry. Perfection. Your Gran could have given Jackie Kennedy a run for her money.

“Got a hot date?”

Viv smiled and a man’s voice came through the thick curtain, “Knock, knock.”

Your eyes widened as a familiar face came through from the store, “Fuck me.”

“That’s another twenty.”

“Y/N, good to see you,” Bobby held out a wide hand to you, “Sam mentioned you were back.”

You shook his hand. Your eyes darting between the pair, and you wondered how long this had been going on. “Sheriff Singer.”

He chuckled, remarkably good natured. He wore a suit, an actual suit! Beard trimmed, hair combed, spicey aftershave. Almost unrecognizable from the man you knew growing up.

The Bobby Singer you remembered was a scruffy-looking, whiskey soaked, hard ass.

“Bobby is fine. Sheriff Singer is what the kids call me when I bust ‘em for drinking beer behind the bleachers.”

“Bob and I are going out for dinner,” Viv informed you as Bobby helped her into her coat. “Lock up when you leave and take Juno with you. Her kibble is in the mudroom, she gets three scoops.”

Bobby couldn’t help smiling at your bewildered expression. “Have a nice night, Y/N.”

The happy couple sailed out through the curtains, and you frowned down at Juno who thumped her tail in response.

“It’s great to be home.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Make Me Stay ~ Changbin [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 20.5K (As of this moment the longest imagine on my account….whoops)

GENRE: Non Idol Au, Mechanic Changbin, slow burn(first time doing slow burn fics) Smut, fluffy, SMUT, cute fluff lil angst, hapyy ending 

PAIRING: Mechanic Changbin x Fem!Reader

The sun from the sunset was beaming down through the windshield of your 1967 Volkswagen beetle causing you to squint as you continued driving down the old dirt road. The sun setting was always so bright and in your face, it made it hard to see anything going on around you. The sat nav on your phone had convinced you that this was the right way but it didn't seem like it at all. There were no buildings around for miles. Just trees, bushes and more trees, a serial killer's favourite place to be hiding out.

"Stupid thing," You mumbled as you pulled up towards a huge gate that looked like it lead onto the private property in front of you, you hissed punching in a new address into your phone. All you were trying to do was get into the city, you'd been doing a huge road trip alone, exploring Korean since you'd lived there most of your life and hadn't explored much. Many people told you not to be "stupid" that it could be dangerous all alone, not to mention lonely or boring but so far you'd enjoyed all of your time. You'd managed to do a lot of sightseeing on your way around the places you'd been, you'd gotten to do a lot of things you wouldn't normally do if you were with friends. The drive had given you space to think over things in your life, it gave you the time to think over everything that was waiting for you back at home...Which was a whole lot of nothing since you'd basically worked in a dead-end job for the last 6 years of your life in order to take this trip. Busan was the third to last place on your list to tick off and so far you hadn't even gotten into the town yet, you were right on the outskirts, the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees and a whole lot of nothing.

"Don't! Don't you dare!" You cried out as your car began to judder forward when you were driving down the back dirt roads, smoke coming from the back of it where the engine was. You wanted to scream out but you held it in thinking it was probably nothing, smoke normally meant that the old engine was just overheating itself. It was perfectly normal.

"No!" You whined out to yourself as you pulled into a small layby near some trees, praying to yourself it would just be the heat. There was nothing around you for miles thanks to the shoddy GPS system on your phone you would have thrown the thing out if it wasn't the only way you would get out of this situation.

Kicking the wheel of your car as you walked to the back of the car to check out what was wrong with the engine if it was the radiators you could fix the issue yourself. It did it occasionally, well more than occasionally, overheat. It would do it every day to the point where you had to carry around water in huge cartons just to make sure you could look after it. As soon as you opened the boot of the car you were met with smoke to the face and you groaned looking inside, you weren't a mechanic but you already knew it didn't look good. There was oil splotched all over the place and bubbling out of the oil dip, something looked as though it was snapped and there was a major stench coming from the engine yourself.

"So much for an easy fix." You mumbled slamming the boot shut and groaning at the thought of being stuck out in the middle of nowhere with nowhere to go. The private land was about four miles away and you knew there was nothing around you for miles in any direction,

"Piece of shit," You whispered as you looked at the small light blue beetle all of it beginning to rust with how old it was.

"I didn't mean it, baby," You whispered as though you had hurt the cars feelings. You put a small kiss on your fingers before placing it on the wing mirror, then you began scrolling through your phone you searching for your recovery number. Having no idea if they would have a branch out in the middle of nowhere or be able to find you out here. You were so far from any major towns, you hadn't seen a single signpost anywhere to give to them over the phone.

"Hi, I've broken down and I have the cover with your service. The only problem is I have no idea where I am..." You trailed off hoping that there was some way they could help you out even though you had no idea what to do yourself. There was some typing on the other end of the phone then a soft voice came through,

"Not a problem love, we can track your phone with our systems just give me one moment," The woman on the other side of the phone seemed pleasant enough to talk to, she hummed while she was typing on her computer.

"I can see you're location, unfortunately, we won't have an official truck out there but we can send someone from a nearby towing company." That was better than the thought of being stuck out forever so you agreed.

"That would be great," You whispered as you got into your car, wanting to stay as warm as you could since the air was starting to drop. It might have been the summer but the nights were always chilly,

"I'll send you the name of our drive and the licence plate as soon as I find out myself," You thanked her for all her work, giving her your insurance information and making sure she had everything she would need before hanging up.

"Hyunjin?" You questioned as a huge truck pulled up beside you on the road, it had been the first sign of anyone else since you ended the phone call. No one had driven down or up this road which made you wonder if the house you'd pulled up at was abandoned.

"That's me, you're-" The long-haired blonde man looked down at a clipboard as he got out of his white truck, much like your small blue Beetle it was starting to rust from how old it was. It must have been a family business, he didn't look any older than you did to be having a van that old.

"Y/n? Driving the 1967 Volkswagon?" He glanced up again and smiled at you, he wasn't at all what you had pictured when you got the text with his name. You always imagined tow drivers to be old and creepy looking but Hyunjin seemed genuinely nice, though you couldn't always judge a book by its cover.

"I haven't seen one of these in a while, what's wrong with it?" He looked impressed by the car so you smiled, taking him around to the boot to show him the engine. Opening it up and wincing at the sight as soon as you did so,

"I seem to have run into some engine troubles," You mumbled as he looked inside the boot and hissed, the sight was enough to make you cry. You knew for a fact it wasn't going to be cheap fixing all of this, not to mention you would now have to find a new place to stay since you hadn't exactly planned on staying in the town. Just passing through after doing some sightseeing.

"I'll take you to Changbin, he does repairs and he's the closest garage to here." You looked at him while nodding, slamming the boot shut and smiling to yourself as Hyunjin helped you up into his truck to wait while he got the car ready on the back of his van.

"Changbin!" You looked around as Hyunjin walked you down the gravelled pathway towards a rundown looking garage shouting out the name of the mechanic. If you hadn't seen the man working on a car in the back you would have thought the place was deserted, the building looked like it would fall apart and the slightest bit of wind change.

"Changin?!" Hyunjin cried out again as he tried to gain the attention of the man who was currently bent over a car and rapping along to some music that was playing. The man was wearing dark blue overalls that were tied around his waist but you hadn't seen his face yet.

"Wait here, I'll go and talk to him," Hyunjin told you as he rushed off over to the car, you hummed and glanced around taking in the sight of everything around you. There was a house beside the garage that looked to be in better shape, you assumed it was where this Changbin lived. Hyunjin had been telling you about him on the drive over, that they'd been close friends since school, how he and a few of their other friends had wanted to start a boy group together when they were kids. It was nice hearing what people dreamed about, back home no one ever discussed that sort of thing. They only cared about what job you wanted after school, dreaming wasn't allowed in the town you grew up in.

"You own the 1967 Beetle?" A voice questioned from behind you snapping you out of your small dream, you jumped up a little before nodding and turning to face whoever it was. From the overalls he was wearing you assumed he was the mechanic, Changbin, he smiled shyly at you and you grabbed the keys from your pocket. Changbin smiled at you but you couldn't help but take notice of what he was wearing, his overalls were tied around his waist, he had a white tank top covering his top half but it was covered in oil and sweat, it made him look incredibly hot. Shaking your head you snapped out of the daydream about him and gave him the keys to your car, Hyunjin had dropped it off at the top of the driveway for you not wanting to clog up Changbin's workspace.

"She's old, the family passed it down and I had her fixed up. The engine seems to have gone bye-bye on me...I think the timing belt snapped, I know for sure the oil has...bubbled over-" You stopped talking when you saw how Changbin was staring at you. His eyebrow was raised at the way you were talking about the car, when Hyunjin told him what was happening inside your engine he assumed you'd have no idea but you seemed to have a pretty good one to him.

"Most people don't know what's wrong when they bring it in," He chuckled softly truly impressed that you seemed to know what was wrong. That smile could have melted your whole heart if you stared at it long enough, it sent a warm feeling throughout your body just seeing him smile. You smiled back at him feeling the need to laugh a little as you both walked in the direction of your car falling into a comfortable silence as Changbin looked up at the vehicle.

"You weren't kidding when you said old," He laughed softly stepping over to the car and unlocking it. He ran his hands over the bonnet and smiled to himself, it had been so long since someone had brought anything decent for him to work on. He'd been surprised when Hyunjin mentioned the year and model,

"She's a classic," You mentioned looking at the expression on his face as he opened the doors to see all of the original interiors was still intact. Right down to the radio dials and cassette player that had been installed in the later models, it was a sight to see nowadays since many people would modify them.

"Holy fuck." He was truly stunned by how well it was still kept together, you didn't see it much now unless the person restoring the car was only doing it to sell it on or keep for a display piece.

"This is insane, I'll have to order the pieces in the fix it but you're welcome to stay in my house in the guest room until it's finished. It would be my pleasure to work on this car." He mentioned as he looked up at you, both of you heading towards the boot to take a look at the engine. Hyunjin had mentioned that Busan was a good two-hour drive if you wanted to get a hotel so you decided to take up Changbin's offer of a room. Hyunjin said he was a good guy and so far he seemed relatively normal and nice to you, who were you to say no to someone being good at hospitality.

"What happened?" He questioned when he took a look at the engine his face scrunching up as he was hit with smoke, you winced as you saw the look of disgust hit his face.

"Driving down a dirt road because my sat nav told me to, turns out I was wrong and then when I was on my way out, Buggy here gave out." He raised his eyebrow when he heard the nickname that you had for the car, you looked down at the floor feeling slightly shy at the look he was giving you.

"Everyone names their car," Your voice trailed off making Changbin smile even more as he nodded his head in agreement with you. He shut the boot as he began walking you back in the direction of his garage.

"I'll have everything priced up by the morning for you," He spoke as he walked into the main area of the garage as he went to lay your keys down.

"I don't charge people for staying at the home, it's just empty without anyone around." He mumbled as he began noting something down on a pad of paper, you weren't able to make out his handwriting so you didn't attempt to.

"Head up to the house, make yourself at home. Do you have any clothes with you?" He questioned as he looked up at you, wondering if he was going to need to lend you some of his own clothing or if you would be okay for now.

"In the car," He threw you the keys then he began writing down again, you headed off back to your car.

Wanting to get some comfortable clothes for the night, you twirled the keys around your fingers as you walked. Thinking over how nice everyone had been to you so far and how comfortable you already felt with a stranger. Hyunjin waved goodbye as he pulled out of the driveway when you reached it,

"Have a nice night! Tell him to give you some of Lix's cookies! You'll never regret eating them!" You laughed softly as Hyunjin waved his long arm out of the window and drove off down the road. You wondered how many people Changbin had allowed to stay over when he did their cars up and if he had a lot of business being out in the middle of nowhere.

Slamming the bonnet shut you took your overnight bag in the direction of the house, not paying attention to anything happening around you as you looked into your bank savings account. The money that was left was going to have to go on the car which meant your road trip would be officially cut short. Locking your phone you slid it into your bag before you let out a loud squeal, somehow you'd lost your footing on all the peddles that lined the floor causing you to slip. Falling over and smacking your head and ankle onto the ground as you let out a loud groan, wincing as you tried to get up on your own.

"Y/n?!" You looked up to see Changbin rushing over to you with a panicked expression on his face. He'd heard the scream and came rushing out from the garage to see what had happened, he hissed as he saw what had cut your head open on the floor.

"Here," He pulled off the tank top he was wearing and it took everything inside of you not to stare at his body in awe, he had huge biceps which you saw earlier but his abs were to die for.

"How did you fall?" He questioned trying hard not to laugh when he saw your eyes drifting to his body. He reached out with his hand covered in his tank top to dab the blood away from the small cut. From what he could see it wasn't major, just a small scrape that he could clean up indoors if you needed to.

"I-I wasn't paying attention," You hissed trying to stand up and that was when you and Changbin looked down at your ankle that was the source of most of your pain.

"I'll get you some ice and some painkillers, you'll have a headache soon." He then ripped his tank top in half as if it was made of nothing but tissue paper then gently wrapped it around your bruised ankle to help put some pressure on it while a makeshift bandage.

"The ice will bring the swelling out, then I'll get heat to help." You whimpered as he wrapped his arm around your waist and forced yours around his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry I'm such a pain." You grumbled as he helped you limp in the direction of the main house that was in front of you. You'd only just met him and now you were using him to get around his place of work and home,

"You're not a pain, I'll get the first aid kit if you wait here." He sat you down on a grey sofa and you looked around, it was quite a large open home. The kitchen opened right into the living room, there was a wooden staircase right in front of the front door entrance which you assumed leads to the bedrooms.

"Here it is," You heard Changbin acknowledge followed by a small bang low groan came from him making you giggle a little, you covered your mouth to stop yourself from laughing.

"Do I need to be in charge of the first aid kit now?" He chuckled as he walked over to you from a small cupboard shaking his head at you,

"I hit my head on the shelf." You held back the second small giggle that was trying to escape from your lips and looked at him as he came over to you. He was rubbing the back of his head as he walked towards you. Sitting down next to you on the sofa as he looked through the small green box,

"I haven't had to use this in a while so I hope it's all good," He was biting down on his lower lip while reading through the contents of the box, checking the small butterfly stitches were okay to use. He didn't know if they went out of date or if they stopped working,

"Will it hurt?" You questioned nervously as you saw what he had in his hand. He gazed at you, you were biting down on your lower lip while watching his hands on the stitches with wide eyes.

"No, it's just a slight tugging sensation that's all." You nodded as he moved closer to you, his face inches away from yours as he began applying the small strips to the cut on your head. It wasn't anything major but he thought it would be best for your sake.

"This might hurt," He mumbled as he slowly took off the makeshift bandage from your ankle glancing up at you to see if you were okay. Your face was scrunched up in pain as you waited for him to do something else,

"It's swollen pretty bad but I don't think it's broken," He whispered to you as he slowly ran his hand over the skin you grimaced as he began applying a bandage around the bottom of your foot and up your ankle making sure it was secure enough, but not too tight to cut off your circulation.

"I'll go and get some ice after I've taken you to the room." He helped you up again, wrapping his arm around your waist as he got you up from the sofa. Waiting for you to steady yourself before he attempted to move,

"T-This is really nice of you, you shouldn't have to put up with a client like this." He shook his head at your words promising you that it was fine, it was really no big deal to him. He told you how he'd looked after his older sister in the same way whenever she was clumsy enough to hurt herself.

"Are you close with your family?" You yawned halfway through the questioned but he got it, helping you hop up the stairs as he nodded his head watching your feet carefully as you both walked.

"Pretty close, my sister and I are more like friends than siblings. It's nice," He chuckled as you hopped onto the landing and then tried to stand on your own. It wasn't because you wanted to seem tough but his hands on your waist was making your heart skip a beat and it was distracting to have him touch you even in an innocent manner. You couldn't help but let your mind wander onto what else his hands would be good at doing such large, long fingers. You shook your head trying to ignore the thought as he began to walk you into one of the rooms.

"I'll get a heater inside, I know it gets quite cold in this room in the summer." He sat you down on the edge of the double bed, it was in the middle of a plain white room. Wooden beams on the ceiling that were lined with posters of different artists, some you'd heard of others you hadn't, it must have been his own childhood room by the looks of it or his sisters you couldn't tell yet.

"I'll go and get some blankets, make yourself comfortable." He spoke to you as he headed out of the room, not being able to stop the smile on his face from the moment you stepped foot on the property. He grabbed the blankets from the airing cupboard, shutting it carefully as he made his way back to your room,

"I found a fluffy one and then a-" Changbin cut himself short when he saw you fast asleep on the pillow, you looked so peaceful laid there like that. He smiled weakly grabbing a spare pillow from beside you and carefully placing it under your bad ankle to make sure it was elevated for the night. Then he made sure to cover you with a warm blanket so you wouldn't get cold in the night. He sighed to himself going to get your bag from the living room to bring up to the room for the morning when you would need it.

Changbin walked up towards the top of the stairs to see if you'd woken up yet, he'd been awake for the last two hours getting the parts for your car ordered in so you could rest easy knowing that they were on their way into the garage. He'd had to call a bunch of companies since the car was so old but the thought of telling you that he couldn't fix it broke his heart. He could already tell how much you loved it from the short period of knowing you. 

"Y/n?" He called out when he heard a floorboard creak inside the room, you stared at the door wondering what to say or do in this situation. You had no idea he was on his way up, you were just on your way out of the room to use the bathroom. Last night you had been too tired to even question anything going on, where anything was and what you should even do when staying in someone else's house. Sleepovers had never been like this because at least before staying over you had been friends but, you didn't know Changbin. 

"I made breakfast if you're hungry, it's downstairs," Changbin said to the door as he realised how unsure you must have been about what was happening. To him letting out a room or two for a night was no big deal. He would do it if a customer couldn't get into the town for a hotel or one of the boys were staying over for the night, so he hadn't thought about it until now. 

"Also I laid some fresh towels out in the bathroom if you wanted to take a shower," You pulled the door open as he spoke and you nodded at him. He looked just as good as yesterday only this time he was in fresh overalls and a new tank top.  

"This is really nice of you, thank you again." He looked down at your ankle to see you were hovering it in the air, panic rushed through him as he thought about it possibly being broken or worse. It hadn't looked bad last night but now he was worried about it. 

"It's okay, just a little sore. The shower will help," You promised him when you noticed the concerned look spreading along his face, you didn't want him to have to worry about this since it was your fault for falling over in the first place. Changbin smiled shyly as he looked back up at you, 

"I'll come and turn the shower on, it's a little tricky if you don't know what you're doing," You followed him along towards the bathroom, limping whenever you put too much pressure on your ankle trying to ignore the floorboards that would creak whenever you stepped on them. It made you wonder how Changbin had ever snuck around as a kid. 

"Thanks," You whispered, leaning against the door frame as he hung over the side of the bathtub, turning the shower on and fiddling around with the dials. The water rushing down as he held his hand out to see if it was okay for you.

"The towels are on the heated rack, should be nice for when you get out." He smiled brightly at you, promising to get you some new bandages for your ankle while he was downstairs. 

"Thank you...Again," He chuckled at you shaking his head and reminding you again that it was his pleasure. 

"I'll be downstairs, scream if you need me." He joked playfully, walking out of the bathroom and heading back down to the kitchen. 

His phone was lighting up with text messages from Hyunjin asking what had happened the night before with you. Changbin made the mistake of telling Hyunjin that you'd fallen over and how Changbin's heart had been racing when he was sitting so close to you. Now the boy wasn't going to let Changbin get away with it without giving him some details, not that there were any details for him to give away.

Changbin: Nothing happened. We don't even know one another. Stop being a creep. He hit send and shook his head, going back to making some breakfast for you both, making sure to keep it hot in the oven while you were showering. Nothing was worse than cold food...Other than Hyunjin who had set yet another text, this time a huge paragraph.

Hyunjin: All I'm saying is...You haven't seen anyone in a while, she's cute, you're cute get to know her- Changbin stopped reading when he heard a thud followed by a scream coming from you, he dropped his phone onto the counter. 

"Y/n?!" He cried out rushing up the staircase and towards the bathroom knocking on the door rather loudly his voice coming out panicked as he spoke, 

"You okay?! Answer me if you're alive...I-I don't wanna walk in," He stuttered at the thought of having to walk in there while you were indecent. The mere thought of it causing his hands to get sweaty as he waited for you to give some kind of response to him, he bit down on his lip. 

"I-I'm okay, I slipped...C-Can-" You groaned at the thought of asking someone you barely knew for help, sitting there in nothing but a towel. You clutched the towel around your body, you'd slipped while wrapping the towel around yourself losing your footing on the water and your bad ankle. 

"Can you help me up? I slipped, I'm decent." You told him as you realised he must have thought you were naked or something. The door slowly opened and Changbin walked into the room turning a bright red colour as he saw you leaning against the bathtub on the floor. A blue towel wrapped around you tightly, he came closer to you as he spoke,

"Here," He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you up onto your foot so you could keep your bad one up in the air, helping you out of the bathroom. 

"I have more bandages in the kitchen when you come down I'll wrap it up for you and get some ice." He was walking you carefully and slowly back to the bedroom while you tried not to get embarrassed over the fact that you'd fallen over twice in his presence and were now standing in nothing but a towel in front of him.

"I'm not usually this clumsy," You informed him as he pushed open the door to the bedroom you were staying in. He let out a low chuckle as he looked at you shaking his head as he thought back on what he'd said before he went to cook. 

"You know...When I told you to scream if you needed me I didn't mean it literally," He winked at you playfully, he had no idea where the wink came from but he liked the fact that you seemed to get shy, letting out a giggle and looked down at the floor. The simple wink had somehow sent your stomach into a frenzy and made your heart skip a beat.

"Will you be okay?" He questioned once you were sitting safely on the edge of the bed, he noticed how you'd made the bed again and he smiled at how thoughtful it was. Normally whenever someone stayed over they left the cleaning for him to do when he wasn't busy. 

"Yeah, I'll be right down." You whispered to him as you look at your bag that was sitting on a chair beside the bed, you wondered what you could wear that wouldn't bother your ankle too much, Changbin smiled before leaving the room and going back down to the kitchen. 

Changbin: She fell again, starting to think she's almost as clumsy as Jisung. I'll talk later. With lightning speed, Hyunjin replied immediately trying to tease his friend. 

Hyunjin: Ever thought she's falling on purpose so you'll save her? She was in the shower remember. The text ended with a suggestive string of emojis to which Changbin groaned and threw his phone into the drawer, wanting nothing more to do with Hyunjin that day. 

"I made tea as well, or I can make some coffee if you prefer," Changbin called to you when he heard small hops coming from the staircase. He glanced over to see you in a pair of high waisted shorts a band t-shirt, his eyes travelled up your legs as he took in the sight of you.

"Tea is perfect," You breathed out in relief as you reached the bottom floor without falling over or hurting yourself this time. 

"Come and sit," Changbin pulled out a white wooden chair that was in front of a kitchen island and you waddled over to him, watching as he began opening some drawers. Pulling out bandages and scissors before coming over to you to get you bandaged up for the day. 

"I have to finish that car I was working on yesterday but you're welcome to do whatever you want, watch a movie, or a show or something." He spoke calmly as he knelt down in front of you, carefully wrapping the new bandage around your ankle, pulling it a little tighter so that your ankle was secure. 

"I'll probably watch a movie, Hyunjin said that Busan is 2 hours away?" You wanted to confirm that Hyunjin was telling the truth and it wasn't just some trick so he wouldn't have to take you. 

"Yeah, two hours and from here to Seoul it's around four in a car." He cut the end of the bandage off before tying it around your leg and smiling up at you to show off his handiwork.

"I'm not a nurse but I don't think its that bad a job," He told you as you complimented his work on your ankle, 

"Well if you handle my car like you've handled me I'm sure she's in perfect hands." Changbin began blushing a deeper red than before and you smiled at him, you'd never had that effect on anybody before. 

"I'll get you some tea," You thanked him shyly and looked around again, the house was cosy and small but it did make you wonder about where his family were. There were photographs of them on the wall, they all looked so happy together,

"I know you mentioned your sister last night...Where is she?" It probably came across as you being nosy but you were generally interested in getting to know Changbin as a person. He came back to the kitchen island with plates stacked high with food for the both of you, he set them down before looking at you. Walking away to get the drinks as he spoke to you,

"Well my sister went to Seoul National University and my parents moved out there with her. I stayed to run the family business," He came back to the table again with tea for you both and sat down on the chair beside you, 

"You grew up out here?" He nodded at you, he could see where this was going so he cut you off before you could question him on school and friends. It was the question everyone asked whenever they came out here, 

"It's not as quiet as you probably think i is. There are some farms further down the road and then a small school where Hyunjin and I met the rest of our friends." That explained how they'd met, you'd wondered in the van when Hyunjin told you how far away everything was. You would have assumed they were homeschooled since everything seemed so far away from them,

"I thought you were going to tell me you travelled two hours a day for school," It was normal, you knew people travelled further for other schools, he shook his head at you. Telling you the only time they'd travelled to school was for high school and it was an hour-long bus journey there and back.

"What was school like?" You questioned as you began eating some of the food that Changbin had prepared. Withstanding the urge to let out a moan of delight when you tasted it, it was far better than you had imagined for a mechanic. It made you wonder who had taught him how to cook and if he got it from his mother or father, 

"Y-You okay? Is it not good?!" Changbin panicked as he read the look on your face, he couldn't tell if it was a good shocked face or a bad one. You were very hard to read for him at the minute and it scared him a little, he hadn't realised it until now but he'd been trying to impress you. 

"No! No! It's actually really good, I didn't- I didn't expect it." You admitted shyly and Changbin chuckled, his friend Jeongin had said the same thing when he first cooked for them all.

"My dad taught me how to cook growing up, Mum taught me cars." He admitted as he looked at you, you had a smile on your face as you looked at him intrigued to know more about him. Much like his your smile hadn't left your face yet. 

"School." You told him as you waited to hear more about his childhood and how he'd grown up around here, 

"School was normal I guess...We formed a friend group, tried to start a band as every young boy does." You giggled at the thought of it, pushing a piece of pancake into your mouth and shaking your head, 

"Not just boys, I wanted to be in a girl group but not many others did." You admitted to him as you began exchanging stories from your "girl group" days which turned out to be more of a solo carer turned into, the one singing job at a talent show followed by you never singing in front of people again. 

"What was your group name?" You quizzed when you were drying the dishes up for him. The conversations had been going back and forth while you ate. He'd told you all their stage names but not the group name itself, 

"I think we called ourselves Stray kids, we-" He started laughing through the sentence as he thought back on everything and shook his head, 

"We called ourselves that because we always strayed away from the usual kid's stuff," He shook his head at the memories and looked at you wondering the same question, 

"Your turn. Your group name?" He questioned, turning off the hot water and drying his hands while he stared at you. You were shying away from the question and shook your head, 

"It was something dumb, unlike Stray Kids which seems like a good name..." He wasn't going to let you get out of this one though, he wanted to know the ins and outs so he shook his head, 

"Come on, I told you mine." He pressed, moving closer to you and sitting down on the chair beside you, you groaned laying your face in your hands as you thought back on it all. The name had just been something you randomly thought of on the day, a 12-year-old you didn't have much imagination for names at the time.

"The group was called January Spice...I formed the group in January...Clearly, and I liked spicy food." He began to laugh softly at the time and you moaned, rolling your head down on the countertop in front of you. 

"Laugh away, you had stage names remember. SpearB," You mocked playfully earning a playful glare from Changbin as he got up from the counter. 

"I need to go work on the cars, do you want me to set the TV up?" He questioned as he pointed over at the tv while looking at you, but you had a better idea,

"C-Can I come?" You questioned, the thought of being alone in the house would bother you too much and you wanted to get to know him better. Changbin's heart warmed at the thought of you wanting to spend time with him more than you had that morning at least, 

"Sure. We'll take a chair out so you can sit while I work." He laughed picking up one of the barstools from the kitchen island and heading out, you limping slowly behind him as he went to open the garage doors. 

"Bliss," He called out randomly in the silence, you frowned looking at him. It had been quiet while he worked on the car for a couple of minutes, you didn't know if he wanted complete silence or if it would be okay to talk. He was bent over the hood of a car as he worked on the engine, he could tell you were confused by the lack of response, 

"You said everyone names their car, mine was called Bliss." You nodded along with him now following along with what he meant, 

"Was?" He whined out at the question and thought of his car, he hadn't been away from it since the day he'd gotten it until his parents needed it. He knew they would need it more than him so he gave it up. Changbin had his choice of cars around the yard that they bought from people over the years. But none of them was 'Bliss', his dream car. 

"Out in the city with my parents, they needed it to get around." He told you as he placed his hand on his chest, faking hurt for dramatic effect splashing oil all over his clean white vest top.

"Now I just have Dave," He groaned facing over at a Ford Pickup truck that was sitting beside the house, 

"He's only good when I need to go into town and come back with all of the snacks Felix makes for me,"

"Felix is the one that bakes right?" You remembered both Hyunjin and Changbin telling you about him. Changbin said that Felix was better than him at cooking but it was hard to believe when you'd ate Changbin's food. 

"Yeah! I think I'll see him before your parts come so you can have some of his cookies for the road," He laughed going back down into the hood of the car while you stared at the floor feeling a sinking feeling in your chest as you thought back on that. You'd totally forgotten about driving back home. Ending your road trip short and yet the one thing that was making you feel down the most was leaving here, you'd loved spending so much time with Changbin it felt as though you'd known him longer than you had.

"Yeah- Sounds good," Changbin could hear the uncertainty in your voice and he decided to look back at you, turning his head as he caught you looking a little sad. 

"Can you pass me the adjustable wrench?" He questioned snapping you out from your daydream, you reached for it and handed it over to him in silence. He could tell that making you think of home had struck a nerve so he looked back down at the car trying to come up with something to distract you from it, 

"Why did you leave home? Why did you decide to go on the huge road trip alone?" He licked his lips as he began fixing the engine again not glancing over at you. You took in a deep breath and shook your head thinking over it all. 

"I- I don't know, I just..." You'd never said it out loud to anyone before in fear of hurting their feelings but where you lived was awful. No one did a thing about their dreams, they worked in dead-end jobs like they were running their lives on autopilot all of the time.

"I looked around and realised there wasn't a single person there, whose life I wanted." By now Changbin was resting his hands on the closed bonnet of the car and staring at you, he watched the way your face contorted thinking back on everything back home. He could tell you didn't want to go back there, 

"So you travelled to find somewhere you wanted to stay?" He cleaned off his hands on a towel while he waited for your response, 

"Maybe..." You whispered not wanting to admit that you may have found somewhere. That it was Busan was seemingly like a great place despite not seeing it as a whole yet, you sensed it was probably Changbin making you feel like you wanted to stay.

The rest of the day was spent with you and Changbin getting to know one another on a deeper level. He told you about his time growing up and you did the same, exchanging horror stories from your high school years and what you had done for a living before going on the road trip. 

Now you were both watching a movie together, it was some horror movie that his friend Minho had suggested you both watch together. Though it wasn't really scary...At all. Changbin thought he'd only suggested it because he had you over at the house and "watching horror movies scared girls into your arms" was something Minho always used to say in school. But you weren't scared, in fact, you were laying your head on Changbin as you drifted off to sleep, Changbin smiled when he heard you murmur in your sleep. Holding onto his arms as you got comfortable against him, snuggling your head into him. He knew if you were awake you would be far too shy to do this which was why he wrapped his arm around your shoulder enjoying the moment while he had it. He drew your body closer to his as he got comfy. It somehow felt natural to be in this position with you, as though you'd done this a million times before. 

"C-Changbin," He heard the small whine of his name leave your lips and he froze in place wondering if you'd woken up and felt him holding you or if you were dreaming about him. He blushed at the thought of him being in your dreams and glanced at his phone, it was getting late and he had to be up early soon but he didn't want to leave this position. He wanted to stay right here with you but sleeping on the sofa caused back pains, he would know after the many nights he'd spent on it after crashing. 

The next morning you rolled over to stop the sun from blinding you in your face but ended up rolling over and hurting your ankle as it came into contact with the edge of the bed.

"Shit," You hissed, sitting up straight and looking down at yourself, you were still in the clothes from yesterday but, you were in the bedroom. You could have sworn you'd been sitting downstairs. It was the last thing you could remember, you were watching a horror movie with Changbin and pretending to be a little afraid so you could hide in his arms. Looking back on it now it seemed silly and childish but you wanted to hold onto him or have him hold you, even if it was just a little while. You hadn't meant to fall asleep beside him and have him carry you up to the bed, now you felt like such a fool.

"Y/n? You alright?" Changbin asked as he came out of the bathroom from his shower, he was about to head into his room when he heard you moving around in the bedroom. Pulling up your black jeans you hummed at him, pulling the door open as soon as you were dressed. Then you walked out showing him that you weren't limping around anymore while you did the best you could not to whine out. It was still hard to walk on but at least now you could do it on your own and without limping, he chuckled softly so you looked up at him. Your mouth could have dropped to the floor when you saw him standing there in nothing but a towel. His body on full display for you to see, beads of water dripping down his arms, abs and face. As he looked at you your mouth ran dry as you realised you were staring at him as if he was some model in a magazine. This time it was your turn to get shy and turn away from him as you got embarrassed.

"I'm heading into the town today, the market will be on. You're welcome to join me if you'd like." He told you as he turned his back on you, heading towards his bedroom so that you wouldn't have to be shy about staring at him anymore.

"Y-Yeah! Sounds great, I-I'm gonna go- Make a drink." You stuttered out as you tried to make it down the staircase as quickly as you could with your bad ankle. Changbin sniggered to himself as he heard you mumbling to yourself about staring.

"He can see you staring you idiot," Was the last words he heard from you before he went to change into some clothes for the town.

Instead of his usual attire, Changbin came down in dressed in some blue jeans and a white t-shirt while he pulled on a black jacket.

"We'll take Dave, no doubt Felix will have baked up a storm last night and I need to get some food while I'm in town." He told you as he walked into the kitchen where you were sitting. You'd made you both a hot cup of tea while you waited for him, wanting to trip yourself over for staring at him the way you did. It was clear from his actions over the two days he wasn't feeling the same way that you did, you had to stop fantasying about him and get on with it. Changbin was just there to fix your car and you would be out of there. It was as simple as that.

"Y/n?" Changbin called out as he stood beside you looking down at you, your hands were clamped down tightly on the mug you were holding. There was something on your mind anybody with more than one brain cell could see that.

"Sorry, what?" You muttered shaking your head as you realised he had been speaking to you the entire time and you hadn't noticed until now.

"I asked if you want me to put your tea into the travel mug for the drive?" He held up a pink travel mug and shook it so you would see what he was talking about, you nodded shyly at him and he chuckled taking the mug from your hands. As he stood at the sink he glanced over his shoulder at you, wanting to know what it was that seemed to be bothering you.

"What's on your mind?" He questioned as he poured the hot liquid into another container. A part of him hoped it was about what had happened upstairs and you would either confirm or deny your feelings for him but it was wishful thinking on his part. Neither of you had known one another that long and he didn't want to tell you his feelings too soon in fear of ruining what would be a lovely couple of days together.

"Going back home...The thought of it just lingers." You mumbled as you lied to him, you'd never ever been a good liar even your mother could tell when you lied to her. You couldn't exactly be straight forward and tell him that it was he that occupied your mind all morning and night. The situation on the top floor landing creeping back into your mind, which then took you back into thinking of the dream you'd had the night before. Nothing special had happened but Changbin had been there. You couldn't even remember what had happened, only that he was there and you kissed.

"Hmm," Changbin hummed as he looked at you knowing that it was a lie. Your eyes were locked on your hands and your body language had become blocked off to him, he hadn't known you long but he already knew your thinking of home face and that wasn't it. Whatever it was that was on your mind had you biting your bottom lip and playing with your hands nervously.

"Well, maybe you'll like Busan and you'll have found a place you want to stay." He nudged your side trying to wake you up from another daydream and he walked you out of the house in silence not knowing what to say to you to make things easier on your mind. This was the most you had been quiet around one another and it was starting to feel a little awkward.

"I'd offer to buy breakfast on the drive but if I do that I think Seungmin and Chan might kill me. They serve food all day from the moment they get there. You'll love it," As he spoke to you you looked at him and smiled as you tried to forget about kissing him in your dream and seeing him almost naked. At least now you'd both seen one another in nothing but a towel and you had nothing to be embarrassed about.

"What are they like?" You had questioned him on his friends before but nothing major, now that you were going to meet them all you wanted to know what you were in for before you got to the market and they would get to hang with you all day.

"Jump in, we have a whole two-hour drive. I'll tell you all about them," He chuckled as he looked at you, the chuckle made you feel more relaxed as you realised he was just breezing over the fact you'd seen him in a towel.

"In return though-" He started as he turned on the car of the pickup truck, turning the radio down from the last time he had been in the car alone. He didn't want to deafen you with his music blasting out suddenly at you.

"I want you to sing for me, otherwise I'm going to throw you to the boys. Like a sheep in a lion's den." You raised your eyebrow at the statement and turned your head to the side trying to think if that was the correct saying.

"I thought the saying was 'I'll feed you to the wolves'?" He licked his lips at you and shook his head acting confident in what he had said to you.

"Not anymore, I changed it. Find a song and start singing," He winked at you, nodding over at the glove box where he kept all of his CD's.

"Whoa. You have a lot of music," You mumbled as you flicked through the multiple CD holders he had inside to try and find a CD where you would at least know one song on it.

"I have to keep myself entertained on the long drives somehow," By now Changbin was pulling into the main road and heading into the town ready to listen to your singing.

By the time you pulled into a parking spot, you knew all of the boy's names, how he'd met every one of them and some small details about them all. Changbin and you had sung together, which led to some rather interesting duets in the car mostly you being shocked by how well Changbin could make up a rap on the spot. He could have had a huge music career if he had stuck it out.

"I just don't want to seem nervous," You told Changbin as he playfully teased you for wanting to know who all of his friends were when you got out of the car. Changbin slammed the door and laughed again, Hyunjin looked up from his phone as soon as he heard your voice and he smiled quickly sending a text to everyone that you were there.

"Is that Y/n I hear? Changbin hasn't scared you off then?" He laughed loudly gaining the attention of other people around you as you looked at him. You smiled back at him as you shook your head at his question,

"Not yet!" You giggled as he rushed over to you and Changbin, greeting Changbin with nothing but a nod of his head before turning to you.

"I hope you're enjoying your stay at Hotel-Dela-Changbin," You laughed softly and began talking with Hyunjin about Changbin's rapping in the car but Changbin began gushing about your singing voice.

"So where shall we start?" You questioned as you looked around you, you were still standing at the edge of the parking lot looking around for something. The market area seemed huge with both and indoor and outdoor market area, a huge building with floor to ceiling windows letting you see everything inside. You didn't dare admit to Changbin you'd never been to one before, the closest thing you'd gotten to a farmers market is a market stall in your home town that sold books.

"We'll start outdoors, Seungmin text saying he has some breakfast food ready for us and that Chan is getting angsty just waiting there." He chuckled glancing from his phone and up to you to make sure that would alright with you,

"Great let's go-" Your sentence was cut short by a loud whimper as you went to walk on your foot a little too eagerly and twisted your ankle, you wanted to cry out in pain but you held it back. Changbin instantly reached his hands out to grab you protectively and Hyunjin watched from the side a little shocked by how protective of you Changbin was acting.

"Ankle again?" Changbin questioned as he steadied you in his arms holding onto you tightly trying to make sure you didn't fall.

"Y-Yeah," The stutter in your voice wasn't because of your ankle but because of how he was holding you. His hands were on your waist, his breath against your neck as he stood close to you, stopping you from toppling over onto your face. Your heart began to pump as you felt him draw you closer to him, his chest against your back as you felt his heart racing just as yours was.

"Alright love birds, let's get moving." Hyunjin joked hoping that Seungmin had seen it from the stall he was working on. He clapped his hands together as he waited for you and Changbin to start moving together so he could get back to his job on directing everyone in the right places. Changbin looked at you as he linked his arm with yours, slowly walking with you in the direction of Seungmin and Chan who were both watching you from a distance. Smirking to one another as they watch you and Changbin engage in conversation with one another, staring up into one another's eyes getting lost in one another rather than paying attention to anything around you.

"It's like those old romance movies Minho claims he doesn't watch," Seungmin joked to Chan who was laughing softly at the thought of it. They could already tell that Changbin liked you a lot, they'd known him for a long time and knew he rarely smiled that much unless it was someone he really liked.

"I thought Changbin was going to join a nunnery he'd been single for so long." Felix joked as he loaded up a box full of baking goods for you to take back to the garage. All nine of you were sitting at a bench in the indoor market while you had some lunch together, Changbin and you had done a full lap of the outdoor market. Walking slowly, of course, to make sure you didn't hurt your ankle. The whole time you spoke about his life again, what he had planned for his future if he wasn't going to run the garage but now you were here with them all.

"Felix!" Changbin groaned as he playfully hit his friend for bringing it up in front of you, he didn't want you to know how long he'd been single in case it put you off him.

"It would be a monastery anyway since...Changbin is a dude." You whispered joining in on the playful teasing while Changbin started nodding sarcastically and licked the inside of his lip.

"Yeah! That's it! You encourage them!" He yelled at you jokingly but you held onto his arm and shook your head, promising him it was just a joke while Felix told him it wasn't.

"The boys and I were going to chip on getting you a Monk outfit." A biscuit was thrown in Felix's direction while you let out a loud surprised shriek as Changbin got up from the seat suddenly.

"Do they always act like this?" You questioned Chan who was sitting beside you watching them both, Changbin got up from the table and began racing after Felix around the indoor market, chasing him in and out of stalls and around people while you giggled.

"Sometimes, Changbin normally rises above it." He whispered turning to look at you as he tried to figure out how you felt about Changbin. Your eyes hadn't left him, watching him chase the smaller boy of the group around, yelling out that he would kill him amongst other playful remarks.

"To be blunt," Chan started once he realised he couldn't read what you were thinking based on your facial expression. As you turned to look at him your face softened wondering what it was that he wanted to ask, you placed a forkful of cake into your mouth and waited for him to continue on.

"Do you like him?" You almost choked on the piece of cake you were eating as he asked you point blankly about Changbin.

"What?! I don't- We don't know- I-" Chan smirked when he saw how easily flustered you were getting with the question, it was obvious now what the answer was even if you weren't saying it yourself.

"You do?" He questioned, biting down on your lip you looked back over at Changbin before nodding. It would be no use lying to yourself about your feelings for him so you weren't going to bother trying to hide it.

"Yeah. I do. Don't...Don't tell him? It's dumb but we haven't known each other long and I don't want things to be awkward-"

"Don't want to be awkward?" Changbin asked making you jump in your seat and look up at him, you were instantly hit with nervousness as you thought he'd heard you and Chan talking about him.

"Nothing, can we take a walk? I want to stretch my ankle for a little bit." Chan slyly tapped his nose at you as a way of telling you that he would keep your secret so you began heading off to look through the indoor market.

"Cute!" You expressed once you saw a stand selling handmade outfits for animals, you walked away from Changbin who was buying you both a hot chocolate and over to the lady who was serving.

"Do you own a pet?" She asked you as you looked through everything,

"No, but now I want to." You whined, Changbin chuckled as he caught you whining and walked over to you, looking through everything as he greeted the woman at the stand.

"Changbin, watch while I have a bathroom break?" He nodded at her and she rushed out of the booth going towards the bathroom while you giggled at everything. Picking up a bow tie that would go around a dogs neck,

"Look, it would suit you." You giggled as you adjusted the neck to fit around Changbin's. Holding it around his neck as you stared into his eyes, getting lost in them as you looked at one another.

"S-So cute," You whispered dropping the bow tie on the floor as you both leant closer to one another. Your heart was in your throat as you moved closer to one another, your lips inches away. Changbin wrapped his arms around your waist as your you were about to kiss when someone let out a loud screech. Changbin backed away from you first making you whine as you looked down at the floor acting as though you weren't just about to kiss one another. The fact that he pulled away first made you feel as though he didn't want to be that close to you,

"Binnie!" You heard a female voice cry out before someone came bounding over to you both, pushing you back a couple of steps and causing you to knock into the stand.

"Watch it Flair!" Changbin yelled moving away from her and holding onto your elbow to stop you from falling over anymore and then he stared at the girl. She had long jet-black hair as she stared at you, giving you a dirty look the second Changbin held onto you.

"What are you doing here? I thought you never wanted to see me again?" Changbin questioned her once you were steady on your feet. Minho, who had seen the entire thing began making his way over to move you out of the firing range. Whenever Flair saw Changbin it ended badly, the last time she'd seen him she flipped out never wanting to see him again but now she'd seen him with someone else Minho knew what was bound to happen.

"I still love you silly, we should go for a drink." Her hands were holding onto his biceps as Minho reached your side,

"Come on," He pulled you over in the direction of the table where the boys were again so you could be alone and not have to listen to their fight.

"Flair again?" Jeongin questioned when they all looked over at Changbin who seemed to be turning red in the face as he spoke back and forth with the girl.

"Who is she?" You questioned shyly, not wanting to look as though you were jealous, you had nothing to be jealous over. It was only a small kiss and it hadn't even happened, though your rapidly beating heart would say otherwise.

The drive home had been silent except for the music that had been playing through the speaker system. Changbin and you hadn't spoken since the almost kiss in the indoor market, he'd come to stand at the table and told the boys he best start driving home before it got too late which meant it was your cue to leave as well.

Now you were heading up to the bedroom to get some rest for the night, holding onto the railing instead of relying on Changbin to help balance you.

"Y/n?" Changbin questioned as you hand touched the golden door handle on the door, you turned your body to face him as you forced yourself to look him in the eyes,

"I'm sorry. Flair...She's a little too much and she's my ex...I had to talk to her-" The boys had explained who Flair was to you, she cheated on Changbin multiple times with different guys to the point where they had their relationship as open but Changbin wasn't allowed to date anyone else. If he even looked at another girl Flair would flip out on him and ''break up'' the relationship without a second thought. When they finally did have a real break up she swore she never wanted to see him again, until she got needy and followed him everywhere. Then claimed she never wanted to see him again. Minho had explained she'd only gone up to him at the market today because she'd seen him with you and got jealous.

"It's fine. It's not as if we're dating, right?" You knew it was wrong to snap at him but you did so anyway, walking into the room and slamming the door behind you. Changbin stared at the door sighing to himself, he should never have stood there to speak to Flair, he should have just taken you away and finished the kiss. Now things were going to be weird between the two of you.

As soon as you knew he was gone from outside of the door you let out a cry into your hands, it seemed stupid crying over a boy you weren't with but it hurt how he left you there like that for someone else.

When the sun woke you up that morning you didn't bother moving from the bedroom, you just rolled over onto your side and began to scroll through your phone trying to distract yourself. There had been someone at the front door earlier that morning talking with Changbin but the voices were muffled through your door, so you weren't able to make out who it was or what they were talking about so you just went back to sleep for a few hours until now. 

Sighing to yourself you sat up in the bed deciding that hiding from Changbin wouldn't be the most mature thing to do in this situation so you wanted to go and see him, at least try and talk this all over with him. Smooth things out at least. You changed into another pair of jeans and an oversized button-up that was in the bottom of your bag and headed for the stairs finding your ankle perfectly fine to walk on today, unlike the previous days when you could barely use it.

"Changbin?" You called out nervously as you reached the bottom to see that he wasn't around, the living room was empty and there were no signs of him in the kitchen. Nothing but a plate and a used mug in the sink that was waiting to be washed up.

"Changbin?" You walked out to the front door checking to see if he was in the garage but the doors were shut and locked and Dave was missing so he'd most likely gone out somewhere but you didn't know where that was. 

As you made your way back towards the kitchen there was a small note on the coffee machine you hadn't seen before, 

One of your parts was missing, went out to Seoul to get it. Won't be home until late, food in the fridge, Lix said he'll come round after 11. See you later x

The small kiss on the end of the handwritten note gave you hope that he wasn't mad about whatever happened the night before between you. The almost kiss lingering in your head as you thought back on the market incident. Maybe there was hope for you both yet but your stomach was still in a nervous spin as you realised he'd left you alone with not much to do. There was an hour before Lix would be arriving so you were going to do the best you could to get something to eat in the house and then clean up. It was the least you could do since Changbin was letting you stay here for free this whole time. Trying to distract yourself from thinking about Changbin the whole time, there was no use sitting around and crying over a boy.

"Changbin wasn't kidding when he said you could sing, huh?" Felix laughed as he walked right into the house. The whole house was filled with loud music, he heard it as he pulled into the driveway. You'd been playing it for the last hour as you cleaned up the house. It wasn't as though it was unnecessarily dirty, just random stains you knew how to fix. 

Felix placed the key he had into his jacket pocket and walked further into the home, taking off his shoes not wanting to mess it up. The boys all had their own key to both the house and the garage, Changbin made them make copies for whenever he was away and needed them to come and look after the place for a couple of days.

"Ah! Hi!" You yelled as you got up from the floor turning off the music so you would be able to talk to one another without yelling at each other. 

"Hey! I brought you guys some more cookies, I even had Sengmin whip us something up for dinner." He placed the containers into the fridge and walked over to you to see what you had been doing. That was when he noticed that the stain in front of the kitchen sink was gone. Chan had dropped some oil a few years ago and it ended up seeping into the small grooves of the floor. 

Felix greeted you with a hug although you hadn't known him longer than half a day you already felt close with him. In fact, you felt close to all of the boys which were nice since you'd never had that kind of friendship before. Everyone back home just sort of tolerated one another, put up with each other for the sake of the town since it was only small and there were only so many people around. Yet another reason to stay away. There everyone knew one another, here they did too but it didn't seem as toxic as it did back home.

"Thank you, Changbin loves your cookies. I haven't tried them yet but if they're anything like your cakes though I'm sure I'll gain a few pounds while I have the last few days here." Felix frowned as you spoke about leaving. From what he'd gotten from Changbin the day before you were starting to like your time in Busan, which made him and the boys wondered if you would be staying. It wasn't uncommon for people to visit and plan to stay in the future.

"Last days?" He tried to bring it up casually as you both walked over to the sofa to talk for a while but you knew why he was asking. 

"I have to go home right? I can't stay with Changbin all the time...There aren't really any places for me to stay other than here..." You trailed off slowly not knowing if Chan had told anyone else that you admitted your feelings for Changbin to him yesterday. Felix smiled softly at you as he looked at you.

"Chan told me that you might have a crush on him," You scoffed at his words, 'crush' was one of the biggest oversimplifications you could have used. It made you feel as though you were back in school and had a crush on one of the popular kids.

"That would be the understatement of the year." Felix sighed at you when he saw the look on your face, it looked as though you were really upset about something and he wanted to know what it was that was on your mind.

"What happened? Minho said that he saw you and Changbin with Flair but-"

"We almost kissed when she interrupted then when we got back to the house I sort of - maybe kind of...Snapped at him for something that wasn't his fault," You dramatically rolled back to lay on the grey sofa, closing your eyes and groaning about how if you could do it over you would. Felix met you with a breathy chuckle as he looked over at you laying down on the sofa with your eyes closed.

"You could talk it through with him...Tell him how you feel? I mean after the almost kiss it means he confirms his feelings for you." Forcing your eyes open you stared up at Felix, you had so many questions you wanted to ask him but you didn't know if he would be comfortable with answering them. Changbin was his friend, Felix wasn't yours you had to remember that. 

"You're worried about Flair right? If you are you have nothing to be worried about... From what I heard Changbin set her straight yesterday." To distract yourself a little you walked to the kitchen to make you both a hot drink to have together. Trying not to make it seem like you were prying for too much information. 

"Set her straight?" You wondered if that was why he had been so tense the night before and hadn't spoken in the truck ride home. Not that you did anything to help aid that either, you could have just as easily spoken to him too you just choose not to. Deciding it would be better to sit in a dull silence rather than talk it out like the adults you both were.

"From what we heard, Flair isn't planning on sticking around in Busan much longer. Then last night Changbin gave her that little extra nudge to move." You looked at Felix with a raised eyebrow handing him his mug of hot coffee as you sat down beside him on the sofa once again. Pulling your knees into your chest as you stared at him, 

"Was Flair his first love? Was that why he put up with so much from her?" As much as he didn't want to talk about his friend behind his back he thought it would be important for you to know it. Since you'd expressed your interest in Changbin and it was clear to him and the boys Changbin liked you back. 

"They were each other's first love, Changbin had been crushing on Flair Hard. For years. I'm talking since we were in little school to high school..."

The story went on until Felix had told you the ins and outs of the relationship. The first time Flair had cheated until the last time when Changbin finally had enough of it all and called it all to an end. She'd been the worst of the worst for him and it took him so long to realise it. Felix took off not long before nine that night so you just began watching a film on the TV. The plan was to wait for Changbin to come in so you could greet him and talk everything over but it wasn't panning out that way since your eyes were getting harder to keep open with each passing second. 

Changbin walked into the house to find you asleep on the sofa a movie running on the screen while there was a mug of half-drunken coffee on the coffee table. He grinned to himself as he quietly dropped the truck keys on the table and stepped over to you, looking over your face while you snuggled into the sofa. You were covered by a small blanket while clutching a small stuffed toy in your arms he'd never seen it before so he could only assume you'd brought it along with you,

"Cute." He whispered to himself as you scrunched your face up in your sleep dreaming of something that wasn't nice by the looks of it. 

"Come here," He whispered to himself once again, taking the blanket off of your body before lifting you up into his arms just like he'd done that second night you'd stayed over. He couldn't expect you to sleep on the coach given how uncomfortable it was, he watched your face as he walked carefully up the staircase to your room. Being careful not to drop you as he walked towards the bedroom you were staying in.

"Changbin," He froze in place as he reached the door of your bedroom, he'd just tucked you into the double bed and was about to leave when you called out his name. 

"Y/n?" He glanced back at you and sighed when he saw that you were still fast asleep on the bed, mumbling his name to yourself. He was sure he could run a hover around the room and you would still be out cold. He shook his head while laughing softly at the sight of you, then he sighed to himself making himself leave the room as he thought about everything. The almost kiss in the market. The ranting text messages he had sitting in his phone from the boys complaining about how he had dealt with everything. Including a string of new messages from Felix updating him on what had happened in the house.

Felix: She's caught up on this whole almost kiss...You should tell her how you feel...

Felix: I'm leaving. She's going to try and stay awake to talk to you. Talk to her. She'll be good for you, you know it, the boys know it and I know it

Changbin ignored them though, throwing his phone onto the sofa as he looked around the kitchen. The boys were always on his case about moving on so this was nothing new from them but he didn't need the pressures of everyone else around him on top of him as well as his own pressures about you. As he walked further into the kitchen he noticed that the usual oil stain on the floor was gone...He'd been trying to get that out for years and you'd only been here a few days and it vanished? He was going to need your secret that or he needed you to stay around forever to be his personal stain remover. Who was he kidding? He wanted you to stay around because having you there had made him happier than he had been in the longest time. Anyone with a functioning brain and two eyes could tell that. He groaned to himself as he thought about how rude he had been, he should have offered to take you to Seoul with him, there was no reason for him to have been out all day either. He'd wasted so much time in the City just trying to avoid coming home to the weird tension that had been in the air the previous night.

The next morning Changbin had woken up first - as he always did - and headed out to your car to start working on it. Working on cars was the only thing he could do to help clear his mind and help him say the things he needed to say without them coming out as complicated, fixing cars helped him focus.

When you woke up and saw him out of the window you knew it was now or never, you had to speak to him. He was working on your car so you only had a couple of hours to get yourself to talk to him, starting with a hot drink. In your mindset, no one could be mad or upset if you brought them a hot drink. That and it would give you that tiny bit longer of procrastination while you worked out what on earth you were going to say to him when you went out there.

"I-I made you a drink." You whispered as you brought him out a mug of tea with the biscuits that Felix brought round the day before.

"Lix baked fresh cookies so I brought them out too." You mumbled to him as you set the small tray down on one of the empty workbenches not knowing how else to pluck up a conversation. No words came from him as he continued working in the back of your car, glancing over at you when you weren't looking. Today you were dressed in a pair of dark blue denim overalls and a white button-up which made him smile at the thought of you both looking alike, but he went back to the car ignoring the sweet thoughts he was having about you as he continued his work. He still had no idea what it was he wanted to say to you. If he should bring up the kiss or if he was just supposed to ignore the whole thing had happened.

"Look I was hoping-" You stopped talking when someone knocked on the wooden doors of the garage interrupting you, you both glanced over to see the delivery man holding a box for Changbin.

"Drop it anywhere, thanks, man." The box said had a brand of spray paint on the side which the delivery man dropped over by the doors.  

"I was hoping that we could talk about the other day-" You'd tried to start once the delivery man was gone but Changbin cut you off this time. He began talking about the car instead of looking at you, staring into the engine as he tried to talk.

"It'll be done by tomorrow at the latest. You'll be out of here before you know it." He didn't even look at you while he spoke it pissed you off more than it probably should have. That he didn't even have the guts to look you in the face while he toyed around with your feelings like this.

"Changbin I wasn't talking about the car-" You tried to speak once again but just like before he cut you off.

"I just need to get an oil change and some stuff, let it settle. You'll be out of my hair by morning." The wording of his sentence pierced you both in place like a deer caught in headlights, your heart thumped against your chest as he told you what he thought about you. Changbin put down the wrench he was using and slowly looked over at you to try and assess the situation. Your eyes were starting to fill with tears as you thought over what he had said. 'Out of my hair' was he sick of you already? Did the boys read him wrong and he didn't like you back at all?

"Out of your hair, r-right...Okay." You stuttered out as you tried not to burst out into tears right there and then, trying to leave the comment alone but it kept repeating itself over and over in your head. Anger began to bubble up inside of you as you thought about it longer and longer,

"You offered me to stay...If it was that big a deal you could have told me to go...I-I could have found a hotel-" He cut you off trying to explain why he'd said what he'd said.

"I didn't mean it, I was just-" This time you cut him off,

"Just what? Because it sounded to me like you meant it! What's your problem? We went from almost kissing to you ignoring me, passing me off as nothing but a visitor and claiming I'm in your hair!?" It came out more of a question than you throwing accusations at him, he licked his lips as he began to feel the guilt coming onto him. He hadn't meant it all, he was just trying to push you away. Pushing people away was easier for him than to accept they were willing to stay with him.

"If I'm that big a deal I'll leave now!" You knew yelling wasn't going to solve anything in this situation but you couldn't help but feel mad at him. You turned to leave out of the garage doors when he seized your wrist in his grasp, stopping you from leaving him there.

"I didn't mean I wanted you to leave..." His voice was coming out calmer now as he looked at you, trying not to hold back the feelings he could feel rushing to the surface. It scared him that he was finally starting to feel something stronger than he had for Flair all those years ago and now he was going to have to admit it out loud it worried him. He didn't want the thing that had happened in the past to repeat themselves.

"Then what is your problem? You've been so-" This time it wasn't Changbin cutting you off with his words...He smashed his lips against yours. Instantly it was as if the fight had melted away from you, you couldn't remember what you were mad at him for, all that matter now was that he was kissing you deeply. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as you stood up on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss, Changbin smirked against your lips. Biting down on your lower one so he could gain access, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he made out with you. Your lips mouthing in sync with one another as you finally got the dream kiss you'd been wanting this whole time. Changbin's arms snaked around your waist, luring you closer to him as he made out with you on the spot.

"N-No, not here." He whispered as you began to run your hands up his shirt. He had to remember you were both in the middle of the garage, anyone could walk in and he didn't want that. He kissed both of your hands as he pulled them out from under his tank top, then he kissed down your neck, pulling you in the direction of the house instead.

Clothes were strewn around the bedroom as you both rushed to undress one another, you bit down on your lip taking in all of his body in one look.

"Like what you see baby? You couldn't get enough the other day." Changbin teased you as he thought back on the morning you'd seen him in nothing but a towel, you whined at him before pushing him to lay down on the bed.

"Can you blame me? Look at you." You purred as you bit down on his bottom lip dragging it down as you then began to kiss down his neck, leaving a small mark as your lips travelled. Kissing down every inch of his body until you got to his boxers. Despite him still having his underwear on you could already tell how large he was from the tent in his boxers. Your mouth watered as you looked up at him, taking your hand and palming him through the thin black fabric. His lips parted to let out a low grunt as his head rolled back against the pillows of his bed, no one except for him had done this in such a long time he'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Oh shit." He whispered breathlessly as you continued to palm him slowly not knowing if he wanted it faster or not since you'd never discussed this before. Biting down on your lip your eyes were fixated on his erection, you pulled down his boxers and bit down on your lip you watched as his cock sprang up to his lower abdomen.

"Y-You don't have to-" Changbin was cut off when he let out a loud moan as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head while you looked up at him. His head was rolled back against the pillows with his eyes screwed shut, he was in ecstasy with every small kitten licks you were giving to him. Taking in some air you took all of his cock until he filled your mouth and hit the back of your throat. Scrunched your eyes shut you continued to bob your head around him, moaning whenever he would hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck Y/n. You're doing s-so good, oh fuck!" He grunted as he bucked up into the back of your throat. You hummed around him as he pulled your hair out of your face, staring at you to make sure this was okay.

"F-Feels so fucking good." He moaned out as he began fucking into your throat, his cock pushing in and out periodically making you gag around him but you did your best to keep your gags to a minimum wanting to please him. His grip on the back of your head tightened as he continued before letting go and letting you catch your breath, you pulled off and began pumping him.

"Look at you," He moaned out sitting up slowly as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip making you suck the string of saliva and precum from it.

"So fucking hot." He grunted out as you stared up at him, taking him back into your mouth and all the way to the back of your throat until you gagged again.

"Ugh shit," He moaned out as you began bobbing your head up and down around him, he could feel the smirk on your lips as you continued to take him into your mouth. You moaned out around him as you reached down to rub yourself through your panties, you hadn't realised just how wet you were getting from the ordeal.

"Do you want some attention now baby?" He cooed looking down at you as he removed his cock from your throat. You looked up at him with parted lips, nodding slowly. Changbin chuckled bending down to pick you up and lay you on the bed,

"Look at you," He whispered to you as he slowly pulled down the black lace panties yo were wearing and watch your arousal slowly stick to them. He chuckled darkly before kissing each of your thighs. Shyly you pressed your thighs together trying to hide from him but he spread them apart, kissing up to your core.

"You're beautiful, you don't need to hide." He promised you as he bit down softly on the fleshy part of your outer labia humming against your skin as you moaned.

"I've not even started yet," He chuckled before plunging his tongue between your folds, lapping over your clit as you bucked up against his mouth. Crying out his name as you screwed your eyes shut. Changbin chuckled against your core amused by the sounds you were letting out.

"You sound so good." He whispered to you as he continued pushing his tongue in and out of you, sucking on your clit whenever he wanted to. He laid your legs over his shoulders, pulling you to the edge of the bed to have better access to you.

"C-Changbin!" You gripped onto his black locks pushing him deeper into you as you began to feel dizzy from the feeling of him pleasuring you. Your toes were starting to cur as you felt your orgasm getting closer and closer with each flick of his tongue. Your mind was starting to go blank as he continued to fuck his tongue into you.

"C-Close." You whimpered as you looked down at him not knowing if he wanted you to cum on his tongue or not but the small pull on your waist as he stared into your eyes gave you all the confirmation you needed. He gripped onto your hips with one hand before pushing two fingers into you and began pumping them in and out of you. You screamed out as his name as your walls clenched around his digits tipping you closer to the edge.

"Fuck! C-Changbin please," You whimpered as you began to cry out his name, he continued with his thrusting fingers and he hummed against your core.

"F-Fuck!" You cried out as your cunt began to spasm out of control, clenching and unclenching around his fingers as your orgasm ripped through you. You were letting out loud desperate moans of his name as you bucked up into his mouth cumming on his fingers and tongue.

"Good girl," He whispered as he pulled his fingers from you, licking them clean as he kissed back up to your lips. Making out with you on the bed as he ground his hips down against your core, you wrapped your legs around his waist as you kissed him back.

"N-Need you," You whispered to him as you began pumping him in your hand between his legs, he looked at you nervously as reality began to set in. He had no condoms in the house since he'd not had any need for them the last couple of years.

"I-I'm on the pill and I'm clean," You whispered to him as though you could read his brain.

"M-Me too...N-Not that I'm on the pill that I'm clean-" You cut him off by kissing him again and giggling softly at how stuttery he was for someone who had just been eating you out like it was his last meal.

"Shh," You whispered to him as you began to line the head of his cock up with your entrance, running the tip over your core as you moaned out. He groaned out when he got himself wet with your juices,

"S-So fucking wet for me," He smirked going back to his previous attitude around you he continued to tease himself and you as he ran his cock over your opening.  Pushing his hips forward until he sunk all the way into you making you cry out in pleasure and tilt your head back. Every inch of him was filling you up, you could feel him at your hilt.

Once he knew you were adjusted to his size he began to slowly push in and out of you, holding onto your hips as he made out with you lovingly.

"Mmm f-fuck," You cried out as your eyes screwed shut. His hips began to pick up speed as you dug your nails into his back.

"Y-You can go faster," Panted as you pulled away from the kiss, biting down on his neck urging him to snap his hips in and out of you. He grunted lowly as he positioned his hands either side of your head giving you the full view of the arms you'd dreamt over. His cock felt incredible inside of you, slamming in and out as he continued to piston his hips vigorously. You felt complete there with him, with his cock filling you up and every moan of your name that fell from his lips.

"I-I've been dreaming of this since the day you came here," He admitted as he continued to thrust into you, kissing down your neck as he held dug his hands into the pillows.

"M-Me too," You whimpered back to him tilting your head so he could have better access to your neck.

You were squirming and crying underneath him with every thrust, your heels digging into his ass as you tried to get him deeper inside of you as if it was even possible. It already felt as though he was rearranging your guts, you knew it wouldn't be long until you were cumming again.

"So fucking good." You mewled out as you looked at him, stuttering out the words as you lost the ability to speak the pleasure inside of you making your brain go numb. Changbin smirked as he began to fuck into you harder, moving his hands to hold your hips down to give him more leverage. Gripping onto your skin as he slammed into you, your screams filled the air with the sounds of your skin slapping together and wetness.

"Changbin!" You screamed out, gripping onto his huge biceps as he continued to fuck into you. Only getting encouraged from your moans, he looked into your eyes and chuckled. He could see how close you were getting,

"Close?" He questioned as he continued to slam into you, leaning down to kiss you sweetly, you nodded at him and grunted into your neck when he felt you clench around him.

"Cum for me," He whispered as he began to slam into you once again. Causing you both to cry out as your walls contracted around him. The walls of your cunt squeezed around him tightly as you felt your orgasm rip through you, Changbin moaned out loudly as he continued to fuck you through it.

You moaned out again when you felt him twitch inside of you pushing himself into place as he came into you, holding onto your hips as you kiss his cheeks and nose.

"S-Shit," You both breathed out heavily as he pulled out of you and laid down beside you on the bed both of you panting as you began to giggle softly turning your head to look at him.

"I-If it wasn't obvious before...I like you a lot." You giggled at him and he moaned out at the cheesiness of it.

"I like you too," He whispered as he linked your hands together on the bed, bringing your hand up to his lips as he gently laid a small kiss on it.

Changbin fed you strawberries as you laid on the sofa, you were dressed in one of his flannel shirts while he wore some shorts around the house.

"Open," You parted your lips waiting for the fruit and he smiled bending down to kiss your lips gently when he placed the fruit into your mouth you made sure to suck on his fingers and smirk up at him.

"What?" You giggled innocently and he shook his head,

"The real question is, are you ready?" You frowned at what he meant,

"Ready for what?" He began leaning down to you and kissed your lips, running his hands between your thighs and chuckling.

"Round 2." He chuckled evilly as he pulled you into a deep kiss, discarding the strawberries onto the table as he pulled you up to sit on his lap.

Humming to yourself as you rolled over you expected to find Changbin laying in the sheets with you but you were met by a cold empty bed, the sheets were cold so he'd clearly been out of bed for some time. You let out a whine as you thought about the night before, gripping onto the sheets around your body as the memories came flooding back to you. Round 1,2...3..4..eventually ending at 8 when Changbin couldn't keep going on or keep up but now the bed was empty you were confused as to where he could be. There was no note by the nightstand and his clothes were gone so you just assumed he'd gone back to working out front so you decided to surprise him. You slipped out of the sheets and walked over to the shirt of his you'd been wearing the night before and slipped into it, along with some panties and a pair of your short heading for the stairs. If he was outside working you would just take him a morning cup of tea and greet him with a small kiss, nothing seemed more romantic than that right now. Apart from maybe having Changbin back in bed where he could hold you for longer, you already missed his touch and longed for him to have his arms around you again. 

"Morning, I made you a cup of tea..." You said to Changbin as you walked into the garage, he was covered in light blue paint, oil and sweat so he'd clearly been out here longer than you had originally thought. He was washing his hands on a towel when he came to face you, looking down at the towel instead of up at you.

"Why are you covered in paint?" You giggled as you handed him the warm mug of tea, taking in the appearance of his - what you assumed was originally a nice white tank top but now stained blue and black. He took the mug without looking at you and placed it down onto the table. He hadn't looked at you once which was starting to make you worry. 

"I erm...I finished the car." He mumbled to you, walking in the direction of the garage doors. You frowned wondering which car he was talking about when you noticed the blue colour that he was covered in matched the same colour as your car but, you hadn't asked him for a paint job.  

"Mine?" Your voice cracked as you questioned him. He began walking out of the garage nodding his head at you while he rooted through his pockets for something. You could hear all of the keys jingling around inside of there so he was probably looking for yours.

"I woke up at 2 am and I couldn't sleep so I just came and finished it. You can leave whenever you want." His voice was coming out cold as he spoke. You stared down at the floor he walked out without even so much as a glance at you, your heart was thumping against your chest. 

Had the previous night's events meant nothing to him or had they completely slipped his mind? You felt the pit in your stomach begin to grow as you thought about him wanting to leave even after the night before. He told you he liked you, you spent the night together, kissing hugging, making love and talking with one another until you finally fell asleep with your head on his chest. It had been all you could think about since the moment you woke up and now that he was just brushing it under the carpet as though it happened all of the time for him. You worried if that was all it was to him, nothing but a one-night stand for him to shake off and leave. You hoped it wasn't but the ground felt as though it was pulling you into it with each passing second he had his back to you without mentioning the night. 

"Do you want me to leave?" Your voice came out hoarse as you did your best not to cry right in front of him, the one thing you didn't want to do was influence his decision on letting you stay by your emotions. Changbin stared forward at your freshly painted car that was waiting for you to go of course he didn't want you to go. He wanted you to stay right here in his arms for as long as humanly possible but the thought of making you stay when you had so many plans to finish your road trip tore him apart. He didn't want to be the one to cut your dream short, he'd seen how happy and excited you were about the road trip, he wasn't going to be the one to ruin that.

"You have things to do. I have things to do." He said emotionlessly as he turned around to see you standing there in his shirt. His heart lept up at the sight of you in his clothes but then he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes as they began to turn red. 

"R-Right...Yeah." You stuttered out blinking the tears away as you stared down at the ground, brushing your face off with your hands. He came closer to you to give you the keys to your car you snatched them from him rather quickly so you wouldn't have to look at him any longer, 

"I'll pay you...T-Then grab my stuff." You mumbled to him as you felt your heart begin to ache with each passing moment he stared at you blankly. He pushed down the guilt he was feeling towards you all of the emotions he was feeling towards you and nodded his head. 

"Sure. I'll write up the receipts for everything. The paint job was free." He grumbled as he walked past you without batting an eyelid, only confirming to you that last night had meant nothing to him. Sighing to yourself you began walking back to the house as quickly as you could not turning to look at him. Changing out of his shirt and putting on your own clothes. 

Changbin stared down at his hands as he wrote down on the pieces of paper you would need for your insurance company, he couldn't help but feel awful for what he was doing to you but you deserved better than this. Better than him. He closed up the garage doors since it was closed for the day.

Felix: Get Y/n to come into the town when you've finished her car, I have cookies for her and you. It'll let her put the car to good use. Sighing to himself he locked his phone and looked over his shoulder, you were storming over to your car with tears gushing down your face. He already felt terrible for everything he was doing but he knew if he stopped you from leaving he would feel even worse. There was nothing worse on this planet than having your heart broken or your dreams cut short. Changbin had no idea that he was doing both of those with one swift action.

"Felix said he wants you to stop by town, he has some snacks," Changbin said as he brought over your receipt, you didn't say anything as you signed your details onto the form scribbling a signature along the bottom line and giving the pad back to him. Changbin frowned as he noticed it was yours and not some random insurance company that you were with. 

"What?" You questioned looking at the expression on his face as you shut the hood of your car, taking the keys round to the driver's side door and opening it.

"Insurance companies pay for repairs, not people..." He whispered as he looked from the papers and up to your face. 

"Not on mine. The car is too old." Your replies were coming out short and abrupt, Changbin didn't blame you since he was the reason you were upset in the first place. 

"So where are you going next on your road trip?" He was doing his best to come across pleasant but you pulled you shook your head at him. 

"Into town. Home. Can't afford the trip anymore and it seems like nothing is keeping me in Busan." You pushed yourself into the car avoiding eye contact with Changbin as you started up the engine resisting the temptation to tell him how great she sounded now. Changbin's heart fell into the pit of his stomach as he realised that you were just going to go home. Somewhere you had expressed multiple times that you didn't like and didn't want to go back to. 

"Can I go now? Is the paperwork okay?" You questioned as you stared at him, he nodded slowly and you began backing out of the drive, ignoring the urge inside of you to look at him before leaving. 

Changbin:: I fucked up. Make her come back, tell her she forgot something! Tell her to come back! Do something. Anything. You guys are good at lying! Changbin sent the text to the huge group chat that all of the boys were in and he panicked as he began to think of losing you forever. He didn't have a way of contacting you, your number wasn't on any of the paperwork just your name. He figured you would finish your road trip and move on but now that he knew you were just going to go back home he began to feel his heartbreak.

Changbin: Seriously this isn't a drill guys I need you to make her stay!!! He hit send followed by five of the siren emojis to show that this was an emergency and that they needed him t help fix this as soon as possible but none of them was replying to the messages. Just reading them without a word in response to him. 

Hyunjin was the first to see, followed by Felix and Chan who were no doubt together at the markets which meant they could do something to help out. Fear began to set in as Changbin wondered if he could race into town after you and talk to you himself but he needed to stay here, in case with some kind of miracle the boys convinced you to come back.

Two hours later Changbin was sitting in his living still waiting for a response from one of the boys when his phone finally began to ping his text notification sound. He hadn't been able to sit still since the moment you left the drive. He'd been pacing back and forth having arguments in his own head about how he should have just told you to stay in the first place, there was no need for him to push you away when all of the signs pointed to you wanting to stay in the first place.

Felix: She won't stay. Says she's heading into Seoul for a few hours to sightsee? Maybe you can catch her? That was all Changbin needed just a chance, he could get to Seoul within four hours and make this all up to you. Fix everything and prove to you that this wasn't just a one night stand to him that the whole thing had meant more to him that he was letting on. Racing over to the door he grabbed the keys for his truck and began to rush out of the door, dropping the keys five times before he finally got into the truck and started it up. He would get to Seoul in four hours or less even if it resulted in some kind of speeding ticket he didn't care. All he cared about was seeing you one last time even if you yelled at him or cried at him for what he was doing he wanted to see you. Convince you to stay in Busan, with him...for as long as you wanted to.

Dropping the keys onto the table Changbin wanted to scream out in frustration. He'd gone into the city to try and find you but it was impossible since he didn't have your number and you hadn't told the boys the exact places you were going to go. He'd gone to every possible tourist place he could think of but you were nowhere to be seen so he headed home in defeat. Ringing the boys to try and get answers but none of the boys were replying or calling him back. 

"Why the long face?" Changbin's heart jumped as he heard your voice come out of nowhere, you were standing in the kitchen pouring boiling water into eight different cups that were in front of you. He had been so lost in his own mind he hadn't even seen you walking around the house with the rest of the boys, all of them doing their own jobs in the kitchen and living room. As you poured out the water you turned to look at Felix,

"Lix can you get another mug?" You called out behind you but Changbin was just staring at you with wide eyes, trying to figure out if this was some kind of dream he was having but he didn't remember falling asleep. Maybe that he'd crashed on the way home and this was some kind of weird coma dream he was having about you. 

"Jesus, you look like you've seen a ghost mate." Chan sarcastically called out as he walked into the house from the back garden looking around for some oil and the plate of meat Jisung was supposed to be prepared. 

"What are you all doing here?" Changbin didn't mean for it to come out cold but he was confused as to what was going on around him, all of the boys were just chilling in the house. He stared at them all but his eyes went straight back to you as you looked up at him.

"I invited them over, I figured we could have a barbeque together. Chan brought his own, insisting it was better than the rust bucket you have sitting out there-" You mentioned as you walked over to Changbin, handing him the mug of tea as you smiled up at him.

"I agree by the way, why did you let it get so rusty?" You groaned at the thought of cooking food on something like that but Changbin stared at you as he shook his head, ignoring your question. 

"I thought you left." He whispered confusingly, discarding the mug onto the table beside him and cupping your face in his hands as though you were the only ones in the room together. He ran his thumbs under your eyes and licked his lips as he resisted the temptation to kiss you.

"I did, I went to the markets and Felix showed me your many...many...many texts," You whispered to him putting an emphasis on 'many' since it hadn't just been two that Changbin sent to them all. When the boys began reading and not replying to him he began writing out essays about how he felt about you. Leaving out no details about why he wanted you to stay and how he needed you to come back to him. 

"But I wanted to get back at you for making me feel bad...So I made them tell you I was out in the city while we came back here for this." You gestured around you as you looked around the boys who were all staring at you both waiting to see what would happen next. Changbin shook his head at you knowing he deserved a lot worse than just going into the city on a pointless goose chase. 

"I don't deserve you," He whispered as he looked down into your eyes, leaning forward to kiss you. His eyes fluttered shut along with yours as your lips were about to touch when Jeongin cleared his throat. Standing beside you as he held out a bowl of potato chips for you to take some from, tapping the sides of the glass dish as he waited patiently.

"Kind of...Having a moment here-" Changbin nodded between you both but you grabbed the chips and smiled up at him innocently, 

"I have to go and help cook. Go and change, you smell like oil and sweat." Tapping his chest playfully you headed out to the back yard where Chan was waiting for you to start grilling some meat with him. Felix smirked at Changbin who was staring off after you, only now did he realise you were back in the shirt from that morning. You had it tied around your midway as you paired it with some high waisted shorts, you looked amazing in anything but so much better in his clothes. 

"I like her, she makes you work for what you want." Felix chuckled as he passed Changbin to head towards the back yard turning back to look at Changbin who was still a little lost on everything happening, 

"She's right though, you stink." He called out right before going out of the door and greeting Chan and you with a hug. 

Later that night when the boys were all passed out asleep in their spots on the sofa and the floor you were in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes. You wanted them to rest while you did the washing up since most of this had been your idea. Changbin walked up behind you snaking his arms around your waist and putting his head in the crook of your neck. He could feel your pulse began to quick against his lips as he placed a small and innocent kiss on your skin. 

"I'm sorry," It was the first time he had said sorry to you for everything all night. You'd spoken to one another about other things but you never had enough privacy to talk about the one thing that was on his mind the one thing he needed to talk to you about. 

"I never should have pushed you away...It was wrong." He admitted, looking at you in the small mirror above the sink, your eyes met as you smiled softly at him telling him it was fine with your eyes. He placed another kiss on your neck and you bit down on your lip trying to concentrate on the dishes rather than the way his lips were making you feel. 

"I'm here now, aren't I?" You whispered to him as you drained the water from the sink turning around in his arms and wrapping yours around the back of his neck. He ignored the water trickling down the back of his shirt as he stared into your eyes. He had no idea how he was going to make up for what he'd done to you but, he was going to do whatever it took every day for the rest of his life if he had to.

"I never want you to leave again," He mumbled to you as he looked over at the boys, one of them was mumbling in their sleep as they turned over on the bed. Jisung snoring loudly, too loudly as though he was faking it so Changbin looked at you,

"Let's go somewhere we can talk privately." He pulled his arms away from your waist and took your hand into his, leading you up to the bedroom so you could talk without whispering or fear of being listened in on by some of the boys. 

Laying beside him on the bed you let your head lay on his chest listening to the way his heart thumped against his chest as he drew patterns into your skin with his fingers. Neither of you had said anything since coming up the stairs twenty minutes ago, you just laid together in a comfortable silence just listening to one another's breathing. Enjoying the company you gave one another.

"I never would have pushed you away if I'd have known you weren't going to go on your trip...I didn't want to be the reason you stopped your road trip or your dreams..." He broke the silence as he said the same thing he had told the boys over their messages. He knew you already knew all of this but he wanted to tell you face to face. He owed you that. 

"I pushed you away the first time because I was scared of what happened with Flair happening again...That night we spent together meant more to me than I could ever begin to tell you." His heart was beginning to beat faster as he told you everything that had been planning on his mind over the last couple of days. The truth spilling out of his lips like a tap that couldn't be shut off.

"Changbin you don't have to-"

"I want to." He stared down into your eyes as he sat you both up, sitting across from you as he stared back into your eyes. Crossing your legs you looked at him smiling weakly, you were getting tired from the night before and being up all day.

"For the first time in a long time, I've felt myself getting happier...To be honest for the last few days being with you has made me feel like I'm floating on a cloud." You laughed softly at the words he was using and he smiled, your laugh was like music to his ears he would listen to it all day if he could and would do anything to make you laugh. 

"When Flair interrupted that kiss at the market it made me realise just how much I liked you. Before I would drop everything and go running back to her but with you it's different. You've taken over my heart and you're the only one who runs it now." You looked at him, your eyes were starting to tear up as he spoke exactly what was going on in his mind.

"I got scared. I pushed you away but I promise never to do it again if you promise to stay?" You looked at him turning your head to the side as if you were going to challenge him on what he was saying to you. You licked your lips slowly,

"Make me stay." You whispered softly to him challenging him as the corners of your mouth turned up into a smirk, he smirked back at you. Cupping your face in his hands before bringing you into a loving kiss just like the one from the night before, running his thumbs over your face. Sparks came flying from your body as soon as he touched you and your mind went blank, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as you rose onto your knees to deepen the kiss with him. Falling down to lay on top of him on the mattress as you both made out, slowly letting one another remove each other's clothes until you were in nothing but your underwear. It was going to be the best new start in a new town you'd ever had, you couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life there with him.

Tagline: @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @channiewoo​ @minholuvs​ @lkwonmj​

[theonethatwatchesalotofshows]

Ranking every teen drama I've watched

I have gotten really into teen dramas lately, because it's quarantine I can't go out and have fun, but I can still watch other people my age going out and having fun and doing things I don't get to do. Anyway I haven't seen all teen dramas, I was never interested in supernatural ones, so you won't find Vampire Diaries and similar shows on this list.

From worst to best:

The Secret Life of the American Teenager

I will never understand how this show ran for five seasons. It will forever remain a mystery to me. This show is so bad it's good. The writing resembles a wattpad story, Amy's pregnancy is inconsistent (like how was she five months pregnant for like five or six episodes, aren't the episodes supposed to be set a week apart?), the acting is bad (that is not to say that Molly Ringwald or Shailene Woodley are bad actresses, obviously they're not, I'm talking about Amy's sister that has the same facial expression no matter what her mood is supposed to be), some of the views this show expresses are very old-fashioned and damaging (the madonna-whore binary, the fact that they can't even utter the word abortion) and every single male character on this show is a creep and a cheater. I can't believe I watched like thirteen episodes of this. I will never get that time back.

Weirdest moment: "I'm a whore!" "Well, you're my whore." (Was this supposed to be romantic??)

Best moment: none

Glee

This is going to be unpopular and don't get me wrong, I like Glee, but I feel like the writers put much more thought into the musical numbers than the storylines. Again, Quinn's pregnancy is inconsistent (but I'm starting to think TV shows are always inconsistent about pregnancies), the characters don't look like they're in high school at all, the cheerleaders wear their uniforms 24/7 for no reason (Quinn even wore it to her sonogram, like seriously?) the whole celibacy club thing is weird and Mr Schue is a terrible teacher. However, the visuals and the musical numbers are great, Sue Sylvester is iconic (albeit also a terrible teacher) and some of the scenes are really emotional (Kurt singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand made my sister cry) so overall, it's pretty good.

Weirdest moment: Finn praying to grilled cheese (what??)

Best moment: Quinn giving birth to Bohemian Rhapsody, Kurt singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Dawson's Creek

I LOVE their 90s' outfits and Joey and Pacey are really otp material, but I just can't stand Dawson! He got mad that Joey didn't tell him about his mother's affair, as if it was her place to get involved. She was 15! It's understandible she didn't want to get tangled into that mess. He also slut-shamed Jen in a really gross way. He literally stopped talking to her for a day when he found out she isn't a virgin. Why are both Joey and Jen into this guy?? This would've been a much better show if it was called Joey's Creek or Pacey's Creek.

Weirdest moment: the way Dawson's mom confessed her affair to her husband. I don't think any irl human would use this choice of words. Also that scene where Dawson's father was teaching him how to kiss while Joey was watching. Cringe.

Best moment: any time Joey and Pacey are bickering. My shipper heart!

Pretty Little Liars

I loved the book version of this, but the TV version seems way too dramatic. First of all, they romanticized Aria and Ezra's relationship (ewww) and made the whole thing seem much more overdramatic. I don't know how to explain it, I mean the books are also dramatic but the TV show somehow took it to a whole new level. None of the girls look like they're in high school, but I love the way they dress and do their makeup. It's almost as though the writers put more thought into their outfits than storylines. I still loved watching it until Netflix took it off, though.

Weirdest moment: Spencer somehow trying to block A's number from her laptop in the middle of a park and then being confused that it didn't work. Weren't you supposed to be the smart one, Spencer?

Best moment: Haleb in the shower, hiding from Hanna's mom.

Skins

This is a classic. Effy is iconic (I somehow heard about her even before watching Skins) and the musical number at the end of season 1 was out of nowhere but still somehow fit perfectly into the story. I also give this show point for being one of the few TV shows where teen characters are actually played by real life teens. They look their age, talk their age (no "I reject reality" or other cringy lines like that) and aren't unrealistically perfect like characters from American teen dramas tend to be. They look like people you might actually meet in high school. However the show loses points for all the continuity errors (are 8 episodes supposed to be the whole school year??) and the number of unneccessary death/tragic accidents. It seemed kind of over-the-top and unneccessarily dark and brutal at times.

Weirdest moment: Chris's graphic death

Best moment: Wild World

Euphoria

The Gen Z American version of Skins, but with better visuals. Much better. I loved the aesthetic, the colors, the lighting and glitter. Zendaya's a great actress and I give this show points for casting an actual trans actress in the role of Jules. However I find it weird that all guys on this show are complete irredeemable assholes (except of Jules's dad and Ethan that is). Are we supposed to just root for the girls and not the guys? Also I find it hard to believe that any of these characters are actually 16/17. They have sex all the time (yeah teenagers have sex sometimes but on this show they treated Kat as some kind of a chaste nun for being a virgin at 16) and have seemingly no rules and no curfew. It would've been much more believable if they were in college.

Weirdest moment: Nate breaking into Tyler's house, beating him up and then taking a shower. The audacity this guy has!

Best moment: "You did this to me!" and Rue having an anxiety attack on the stage in theater class

Gossip Girl

I know this is also an unpopular opinion, because many claim Gossip Girl is the best teen drama ever, but for me it just got way too soapy as the seasons went on. The first two seasons were believable, even though they didn't really look like they were in high school, but after that it was just more and more weird plot points. I will give this show points for the fashion (I mean Blair's headbands and school uniform inspired a fashion line), the acting ("I killed someone"- iconic) and the choice of background music (Nate and Serena kissing to Paparazzi, Thanksgiving with Watcha Say). Despite the wild twists and turns of events, I just had to keep watching because this show had me hooked.

Weirdest moment: Bart Bass somehow flying off the building for no reason (seriously, what he did there had no logical explanation and defied laws of physics), Dan being Gossip Girl, Bart faking his death and returning more evil than before, Serena becoming Gossip Girl, the affidavit, everyone randomly stopping going to college... there are so many but Bart takes the cake I guess

Best moment: the Thanksgiving flashbacks from season 1, Dan placing a plastic crown on Blair's head

Freaks and Geeks

This is one of the few shows where high school is depicted realistically. It's not all glitter and parties and not everyone has sex and does drugs. Okay, I admit, the bullying was over the top and it was weird how no adults cared but other than that, it was pretty spot-on. It was emotional without being too dramatic and far-fetched and also had funny moments. Yes some of the characters may have been stereotypes but at least the show seemed self-aware of that. It's truly a shame we only got 18 episodes of this show, while The Secret Life of the American Teenager somehow got five seasons??? I don't get it.

Weirdest moment: when Cindy suddenly got super mean once she started dating Sam

Best moment: Daniel showing up at Kim's doorstep, Sam breaking down in tears in the end of 'Garage Door'

Gilmore Girls

I'm not sure this one counts as a teen drama, maybe it's more of a dramedy but I'm still including it here. It's funny, the dialogue is witty and full of obscure pop-culture references and the relationships between generations complex. Same as with Freaks and Geeks, the portrayal of high school is pretty realistic. Characters are shown studying and taking tests and not just partying all the time. However the show loses points for getting weirdly soapy in the 7th season. The dialogue wasn't as good and the camera angles were soap opera like and the storylines weren't very good either. You could really tell the show changed show-runners. The earlier seasons are the best. It's hard to explain but something about them feels cozy like a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day.

Weirdest moment: Lorelai marrying Chris and then making the whole "you're the man I want to want" speech, Lorelai defending and loving Dean for no reason

Best moment: Rory's graduation speech, Rory yelling at Chris and calling him out for not having been there for her, Then She Appeared, "Yes Emily, you may go first"... there are so many!

[darlingsdevil]

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 5: The Flesh Failures

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Of The Valley Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (please comment to be added or removed): @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @cowboyfrazer @scarletpines @mikah-writes @writersblockincoming @sleepylunarwolf

A/N: Thank you guys so so much for all this support, it’s genuinely astounding! Your guys comments really make my day!

•••

There was no way you were pregnant. Absolutely no way. It was a stupid thought. You couldn’t be pregnant, there was no possibility of that.

You were probably just sick from dinner last night. It was common. Especially since Tommy couldn’t manage to find any fresh ingredients. It was definitely the stew, you assured yourself. Not a chance you could be carrying a baby.

When was the last time you had your period? Two months? Even before that? It was probably just the stress that caused you to miss it, or forget about it entirely. That was most likely it. You were okay. There was no baby.

“You alright in there?” Joel’s gruff voice asked from the other side of the door.

His question didn’t even register for a few seconds.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You said, trying to keep the pain out of your voice, regardless it still came out weak and painful.

“Why do you sound like you’re on the floor?”

You got up quickly and opened the door for him. “I’m fine.”

Joel stared at you in confusion and glanced over your shoulder. The nausea was making it hard to stand up straight, but you managed, as wobbly as you looked.

“Are you sure? You don’t look too well,” Joel interrogated you.

“I’m good. Just feeling a little sick.” The nausea was slowly increasing, causing your stomach and head to feel much worse. Your body began feeling warmer.

“We can head back right now to Jackson if you aren’t feeling well,” Joel suggested, his eyes filled with worry.

As much as you wanted to go home, you still owed Maria. You couldn’t give her a half assed job, even though Tommy could have finished it easily.

“Whatever Tommy thinks is best,” You dismissed as you leaned against the counter, feeling the sickness wash over you.

“I don’t think Tommy would want you getting sick on the job.”

“Well, let’s just run it by him first,” You managed to get out as you felt your stomach churn. It was too damn bright in here and the sound of Joel’s voice was almost too loud.

“Okay. I’ll go get him.” Joel left the bathroom in search of Tommy while you tried to balance yourself on the counter.

This was not the first time you were sick in the morning. It was common enough that you didn’t bat an eye at it. It was surely that.

There was no way you were pregnant.

Tommy and Joel came back a few moments later.

“How you feeling?” Tommy asked you, stepping into the bathroom with you.

“Not that good. Did any of you guys get sick last night from the food?” You wondered. Joel and Tommy shook their heads, eyeing you cautiously.

“No. I don’t think Ellie did either. Maybe you got sick from the bar,” Tommy suggested.

“That’s probably it. I heard the daycare got hit pretty badly with the stomach flu, maybe Denise or Charlie came to the bar and spread it,” You replied, making up excuses you hoped to be true. Denise and Charlie were the owners of the daycare.

“Last I heard they didn’t get it. Not many of the parents did either. Could be something else though, who knows,” Tommy answered. Your stomach was feeling worse and worse, going out and finishing off the rest of the infected seemed nearly impossible now.

You were quiet, trying to quell your intrusive thoughts and your stomach pain.

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. Maria will understand,” Tommy assured you. Maria would understand, that was given, but she had begged you to do the job outside of town, you didn’t want to let her down. But you were not going to do another job again out here, as easy as this one was, you had to put your foot down. You couldn’t risk having to go back outside of a Jackson again.

“I have to finish this job,” You grumbled. You really weren’t looking forward to throwing up in front of Joel and Tommy. They needed to leave.

“You’re looking awfully sick. I don’t think it’s best if we go out again,” Joel said this time, Tommy nodded in agreement.

“I’m not going back out here to finish the job if I go back,” You replied firmly.

“I can finish it off. Joel will take you back with Ellie,” Tommy said.

You nodded, someone would have to explain it to Maria when you got back, and then you would return to your normalcy, however that looked from now on.

“Just don’t take too long. Maria will get worried,” You told Tommy, wincing in pain.

“I would never. She would have my head on a spike.”

•••

Joel, you, and Ellie set out for Jackson once again. Levia was happy to see you, you hoped it wasn’t too cold for her and Caesar in the garage.

Ellie and Joel were mostly quiet for awhile. Everything was quiet, you hated it. There was only the clicking of hooves and the gentle noises from the horses.You passed through the abandoned buildings and streets with ease, there was no infected, but wildlife was abundant, although autumn was quickly killing off the land.

Yet you couldn’t take your mind off everything that happened. Would you even be able to return to normal with your friends? Was that even an option anymore? You shut them out for three months, they felt betrayed. You were worried about Ellie in particular, a lot seemingly happened with her and Joel. You couldn’t place your finger on the severity of it, you prayed you would be able to mediate it soon, if you could.

And then there was the possibility of you being pregnant. Was there a possibility of you being pregnant?

You looked down at your abdomen briefly. Was there life inside of there? Was there a baby and you had no idea for three months? There was a small bump.. when had that gotten there? It was just from the change in your occupation, patrol was a lot more physically demanding, you told yourself.

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought raising a child. Especially in a world as cruel as this one. You were barely able to manage yourself these days, let alone a baby.

Your mind was on high alert, though you didn’t let it show. Not even when every toss and turn made you feel sick. Your stomach was still feeling as awful as ever, you were sure it would last most of the day.

You wanted nothing more than to be in bed at your home. Despite the memories held there, you could care less.

Ellie and Joel were talking up ahead. Neither of the two seemed particularly pleased with each other. Their words were muffled, both speaking quietly as they trotted next to each other, nipped sentences and awkward silence. It was uncomfortable for even you to watch.

•••

You snuck quietly back into town, Joel and Ellie handed Levia back to the stables, taking your rifle with them, Joel offering to explain it to Maria while you got some rest while you went back to your house at the edge of town. It was a nicer house, small but homey. It was in one of the neighborhoods near the north district. Though your backyard wasn’t next to the wall, you were only a street away.

It was a craftsman style home. The flowers on your porch had long since died, your lawn was neglected too. Your neighbor was kind enough to cut it occasionally since your property wasn’t too big, but you felt embarrassed knowing that you hadn’t taken care of it, and that it was noticeable. Mark liked cutting the grass especially.

Two chairs out on the front porch, dusty from lack of use, you sighed, adding property care to your list of to-do’s. You opened the front door with your key, pulling off your shoes as you entered.

“I’m home,” You mumbled quietly, hoping perhaps someone would hear you. But no one did, and no one would. You lived alone these days.

Your house was painfully quiet. And you hated quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the life you lived three months ago. Dancing to music in your kitchen while you made dinner, the flickering candle in the corner creating a warm glow, children laughing outside, spraying each other with a hose. The buzzing sound of cicadas outside, the heat of early July on the blacktop, a man who loved you in the corner cutting watermelon. You missed it. You missed it dearly.

Now there was a cold, dark, house, devoid of any life. There was no music, there was no glow, there was no sound. Only the cold, dusty air, a bedroom empty yet filled with things, boxes of records you would never touch again.

You were tired, sickly feeling. There was no one to hold your hair back while you emptied your stomach, no one to hug you while you cried. There was no one here now, just an empty house and an even emptier woman, your secrets suffocating you.

•••

Ellie and Joel returned to their respective rooms for the day.

Ellie was planning on going out with Cat later in the day to watch a movie or two, maybe sneak out at night to go down to the lake with a few other friends, smoke some pot, eat some s’mores, steal a six pack. Normal teenage things. Ellie just wanted to take her mind off things again and not have to worry about her old man.

Joel had nothing on his agenda for today. He had things to do on his day off yesterday, but it was too late in the day to get started on them now. So instead, he decided to finish a carving he had begun, a sparrow. It was a nice enough hobby, it kept his mind off things and it was time consuming. He was using a book Ellie had gotten him for his birthday a few years back as a reference. He was thinking about giving the carving to Maria, he had enough carvings as is.

Later in the day, when the sun was beginning to set Maria knocked on Joel’s door. Ellie left with her friend Cat, he saw them through the window of his bedroom earlier, he wondered where they were going.

“Maria, Tommy,” Joel said as he opened the door, noticing Tommy was with her. He was glad his brother had made it home safely.

“May we come in?” Maria asked, glancing through his door behind him.

Joel opened the door further and let them in. It wasn’t unusual for Maria and Tommy to visit him, sometimes just wanting to socialize, other times coming to him for the odd job or two, or patrol reports.

Joel went into the living room and sat down in his chair, Tommy and Maria going for the couch. They exchanged a look before speaking. Joel immediately knew something was up.

“How was it yesterday?” Maria asked.

“Tommy didn’t fill you in?” Joel replied, raising a brow.

“He did. I want your take on it.”

Joel was perplexed until he remembered yesterday was supposed to be a test for you, he would just be grading it.

“On what exactly?” Joel pressed.

“Y/N. How she did,” Maria corrected.

“She panicked when she shot that first pack of infected. Was hard for her to do the second round too, but she managed,” Joel shrugged, there wasn’t much else to say.

Maria nodded her head. “And her shooting, still as sharp as everyone says?”

Joel nodded in response. You were always a good shot.

“What’s all this testing stuff even for? Why is everyone being so damn secretive?”

Maria and Tommy looked at one another, Tommy began to say something but Maria shook her head, stopping him.

“We want her back on patrol. She asked me not to say anything to you, but I think it would be best if I did. Something happened out there with her, it’s why she went off the grid,” Maria said, her words serious and careful.

Joel knew of this already. Tommy had told him yesterday too.

“What happened?” Joel questioned, trying to piece together the complex puzzle.

“As head of Jackson, it’s not my place to say. But because I’m her friend I think it’s best if you know.”

“Okay,” Joel trailed off, wondering what Maria was going to say.

“Mark died on patrol while they were together.” Maria confessed.

“Mark Lane? As in Y/N’s Mark?”

Tommy and Maria both nodded grimly.

Joel cursed under his breath before speaking to them. No wonder he hadn’t seen him around town, then again he hadn’t seen you much either. But Mark was dead? They hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but they were well enough acquaintanced. Mark was an amazing patrolman, a little under the radar, but his talent was well known.

“How’d he die?” Joel asked.

“Just died out on patrol,” Tommy replied, his eyes boring into Joel’s. Joel took the hint.

“Is that why she has been avoiding everyone?”

“I tried to get her to talk to you, I did. She wouldn’t budge,” Maria said to Joel.

“You should have told me.”

“I told Y/N it was her call and she asked me not to mention it, so I did. But it’s dragged on too long, we need her now,” Maria told him. Joel nodded understandingly.

“For what? We have enough people on patrol as is. Ellie’s moving up, she can take Y/N’s place.”

“I told her I wouldn’t put her on patrol anymore, but we have word of a large horde of infected heading directly our way as we speak. We’re dividing assigned patrollers and future volunteers into groups, we need Y/N as the leader of our sniping group,” She explained carefully.

“A horde?” Joel asked dumbfounded. He had never in his life been even caught in one. He knew New York City was one big horde now, as well as Los Angeles and Miami, he had ran from large groups of infected, sure, but he had never been close to a horde.

“We can take them. We already have our traders coming early to bring supplies. Best case scenario, the horde barely misses us for the winter, worst case scenario, we lose some people in the fight, but we can kill this many infected, we have the manpower to do it,” Tommy replied determinedly.

“We have groups of infected coming up here every damn winter, what makes this one any different?”

“The difference is that this is a large horde. Bigger than any one we’ve seen yet, our people down south said we need to prepared, we can’t risk this horde getting close to town,” Tommy explained to him.

“And where do I fit into this?” Joel asked. The sun was setting further now, it was beginning to get darker. The street lamps turned on outside. Halloween was in a few weeks, he had been meaning to decorate. It was Sarah’s favorite holiday, they always went all out. Perhaps he would light an autumn candle tonight and make some fall comfort food — hearty soup or pasta.

“You’ll be head of our field patrol with Tommy, along with a few others. Tommy and you will coordinate defenses, you’ll be out on the frontlines,” Maria was the one to explain this time.

Joel’s heart began beating faster, he couldn’t sit back and watch his friends fight a horde of infected, he was glad he would be fighting alongside them.

“And the sniper unit?”

“That’s where Y/N comes in. Where our frontliners can’t work, we’ll have our snipers lead,” Maria claimed. They would have a good chance, especially with the supplies and manpower Jackson had.

“When is this horde due to hit us?” Joel asked. All they would need is a couple days, lots of molotovs and explosives and ammo to pick off this pack

“Right now it’s looking like early December. We expect the horde to leave some stragglers behind through cities they pass so it won’t be quite as big as it is looking right now,” His brother explained.

Jackson being hit by a horde? Joel was more worried about the people of Jackson panicking, the frenzied fear of people was sometimes more dangerous than a group of infected.

“Have you told Y/N about this?” Joel asked Maria quietly.

She shook her head gently, “I don’t want to spring this all on her so quickly. We just need to ease her into this, I’m sure it’s all very overwhelming right now.”

Joel understood well enough. Losing someone you were close with is never easy, he was well acquainted in that department, he knew the pain that came with it. He would talk with you later about it, but first he would take you to the lake like he had promised.

•••

Maria came by at night, holding a box of cookies, waking you from your nap. At least your stomach had stopped hurting, yet you still felt beyond tired, your whole body ached.

“Hey,” You greeted her softly as you opened the door, your eyes still adjusting to the light.

“I heard you got sick earlier, how are you feeling?” She asked as you let her in. You could smell the leaves as you opened the door, the slight remnants of the crisp autumn air from last night still lingering in your mind.

“Better, not sure what came over me,” You sighed, shutting the door while you both stood by the door.

“Do you think you can go into work tomorrow?” Maria asked you, her eyes softening.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’m good,” You said quickly with a shrug, playing it off.

“Are you sure you’re not getting sick? Flu is common around this time of year, working in a bar probably wouldn’t make it better.”

“I’m fine, Maria, seriously,” You reassured her.

“Have you gotten sick at all recently?” She continued.

“Yeah, I get sick usually in the morning, I’m sure it’s just because of my nerves and what not,” You confessed to her. Maria’s eyes widened briefly.

“You look a little flushed.. you’re one hundred percent sure you’re not getting sick? Or that this isn’t something else?” She emphasized on the last sentence.

Your mind wrestled with itself, should you tell Maria you think you may be pregnant? She would be supportive of you surely and would make sure to accommodate you.. but you didn’t want her to fret and you weren’t even totally convinced.

“I don’t feel sick now, it’s probably nothing,” You said, attempting to reassure not only her but yourself too.

“Okay well, how was yesterday then?”

“Joel’s angry with me. Ellie’s angry too,” You sighed, looking down at your shoes.

“They’ll come around eventually. But patrol went off without a hitch?” She redirected the question, dismissing your original statement.

“I guess, I’m glad it’s over though.” Patrol hadn’t gone off without a hitch, in fact, it was anything but smooth, but at least you had gotten some work done. You were sure Tommy or Joel had already told her all about it.

“Good. Well, it’s getting late, I still have to go stop by Ellie’s room when she gets back from wherever the hell she is, so goodnight. I hope you like the cookies,” Maria said, handing you the tin of cookies.

You looked out into the street, your neighbors had already put up some decorations for Halloween. Mark had a love-hate relationship with Halloween, sure he got candy and could indulge in as much as he wanted, but when he was little he had tripped and fell on Halloween and broke an arm and the year after that he had broken his other arm on the same night. His birthday was near Halloween too, hence why you teased him and called him Devil Boy. He hated the nickname, but it didn’t stop him from teasing you right back.

There wasn’t much Trick-or-Treating in Jackson, people carved pumpkins and made costumes and went to the Halloween party, but you always missed seeing little kids go door to door, their eyes bright as they shouted for candy. You were only a kid too when Trick-Or-Treating died out.. it was one of the things you missed the most.

You picked up your box of cookies and examined it, it seemed Maria had made chocolate chip, her specialty. You decided to eat a few now before you went to bed again, you got up from the couch and placed the box on the counter.

A movie sounded nice too, so you went to go retrieve a blanket from your bed. You grabbed the heavy blanket and folded it in your hands, looking over at your calendar by your bed. Luckily, someone in Jackson had kept up with the days and made yearly calendars, it saved you a lot of trouble.

You forgot to mark off some days, so you picked up the marker on your bedside table and began crossing off the days that had already passed, then you noticed something.

You had put the days on your calendar where your period would come, months in advance so you could plan around it.. you had missed your period by a week.

It was just a coincidence.. a few coincidences in a row. Then you looked back at your other months.. you didn’t remember having your period on any of those days…

“There’s no way I’m fucking pregnant,” You said quickly, panic rising in your voice.

“There’s no way, no way at all,” You muttered, your breathing unsteady. You flipped through all the way back to July, remembering the Fourth of July.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” You shouted, realization hitting you like a tidal wave, hot tears forming in your eyes. You were pregnant. There was no doubt in your mind now.

You sat down on your bed and tried wiping away your tears with a shaky head. A thousand thoughts raced through your head, how would you raise a child? You knew nothing about childcare. The last thing you wanted to do would be to bring a child into a world as cruel and unforgiving as this one.

You felt angry, confused, cheated, scared for your baby’s future. You couldn’t give the baby a conventional childhood, there was none of that now. Raising a child on your own was scary enough as it is, you weren’t fit to be a mother.

How could you be so careless and not see any of the warning signs? How could you even let this happen? You were three months pregnant and not once did you think of the possibility you could be before today. The morning sickness, increased fatigue, nausea to certain smells, heightened moods and appetite? The warning signs were right there in front of you, how had you missed every single one of them?

How would you even tell anyone about it? Would Maria truly understand? Would she look down at you for not being careful enough?

And Joel? How would he react? There was enough you were keeping from him already.. you could only keep this secret for a few more weeks anyways.

How would your life look with a child? Limited freedoms? Always having someone to look out for? Perhaps it was selfish to think that way.. there was supposed to be unconditional love between a mother and child

Yet there was a spark of hope in your heart. The thought of having a little one giggling as you held them, their bright eyes twinkling up at you, their tiny fingers so gentle, curling around your own.

Maybe things would turn out okay for you and your child, Jackson was much better than raising a child in a QZ or outside of one, it was the closest thing you would get to a normal civilization. There were other children around in Jackson too, a daycare, a school, playgrounds, other families who would help you.

You rubbed your stomach gently, wiping away all your tears, thinking of the good and the bad that would come out of this situation. There was the sound of a child’s laughter or the sound of a gunshot, which one would resonate louder?

•••

[blushing-starker]

For my Gracie dear. What would I do without you in my life? Merry Christmas darling. @vaguekiwi

"Well, you wouldn't really be in this position if you had accepted my proposal, baby cheeks. In fact, I'm practically drooling over the thought of you saying fuck it and coming to visit with a few surprises beneath that second skin you're rocking." Two sentences, two very different tones of voice, both trying to coax him in. Reprimand and flirt, the only possible courses of action for Wade when it came to them.

"So I guess it's true what they say; chivalry died when you were born, Wade. Every single conversation between us is proof and the world knows it." He grinned as soon as he heard the exaggerated gasps over the landline, always loved these tennis matches with his partner in crime.

Sure, the 'red devil' of Cliffwood often threaded barely subtle, often outlandish innuendos into their interactions and never denied the neighborhood a chance of seeing him draped over Peter, but it was, God forgive him, fun. Exciting and a little thrilling.

And also past their bedtime. So to speak. "I gotta go and I know Wanda likes to cook late. Go help her in the kitchen, Mr Gifted Hands. Vision might give me an A in the next exam if I told him I encouraged you to make his favorite lasagna." It won't happen, obviously. The Maximoffs, because Vision had adopted the name on his second date with Wanda long before their wedding, were usually chaotic neutrals that tried sticking to the right side of the law. Hopefully, Mr Maximoffs' morality would at least allow the man to add a five point bonus on Peter's next physics test.

"Oh, you finally admit my hands are gifted, Mr Parker? How forward of you." If there was one thing that he loved about being friends with the incorrigible Wade Wilson, it was how the man oozed sex like it was nothing. His surety in it, in flirting, in courting and joking made Peter feel at ease. Most people, even those like Mr Rogers with his slightly conservative views, enjoyed Wade's antics because they were harmless.

Most of the time. The guy had slept with two thirds of the town, after all.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Wade. What would Vanessa say of-"

"Please, the woman basically throws me at people in the hopes of watching me sleep with them."

"you being with me before her?"

"..."

Peter squinted at a shiny red nail, worried he'd somehow messed up Morgan's job of decorating him in the Christmas spirit. The lamp next to the couch is a tad dimmer than usual, right, he has to swap the bulbs. He'd completely forgotten in the midst of playing with Morgan and Rocky, baking them brownies, battling the upstairs shower mold, decluttering the toy boxes and throwing something semi appealing for dinner. There was a spare light in the, was it the garage? No, his memory had been reduced to physics laws and the kids' allergies, but Peter's sure he would have noticed. Maybe Morgan had hidden them in the office, Rocky liked chewing on light bulbs so it's not too unlikely

"Shit, Parker, now I'm thinking about that, Jesus. Christ on a bicycle! Hmm? It's nothing, Wanda, just Peter being a brat and a tease."

"Hey, I'm not a brat!"

"Says you. I bet a certain member of the awesome facial hair club could evidence the opposite. Actually, I'll go right over and ask, hey!" The sound of Wade distinctly face planting onto the Maximoffs couch sent Peter into enough hysterics he could barely make out what Wanda was saying.

"I sincerely apologize for the little devil-"

"I'm almost two heads taller than you!"

"that can't seem to mind his manners no matter how many times we try to teach him how to be human."

"It's," God, he's wheezing like a freshman first day of gym with Coulson, "perfectly alright, Miss. I'm the one that should say sorry for keeping him up so late, I know he has chores to do around the house. Lovely Christmas lights, by the way. I think you guys might win the competition again this year."

There's a tiny worm of guilt crawling up his throat; how could he distract Wade when Wanda had her hands full with an energetic baby ready to sprint out of the house at any moment?

"Oh sweet Peter," she drawls out the vowels, like they're honey and she's trying her best to stretch them out, savour them, "you really think so? I thought the yard looked perfect, but Vision insisted on decorating the roof to 'ensure our win against my dear brother in law'. And please, a happy Wade that's finished his teasing for the day is wonderful for us. He cleans faster and doesn't kiss my cheeks as much."

"Wait, you did the roof?" He knew the Maximoff siblings were intense, had witnessed Pietro stabbing flamingos into Clint's lawn just to add some color to his already bright remodeling a weeks ago.

"You haven't seen it? Tell Morguna's father to take you outside to see it while the kids are watching television. That way you can go back with an excuse if you get too nervous with him."

Peter spluttered, ignored the fact his cheeks were flaming, pretended he couldn't hear Wade's howling through the phone. "I don't, I wouldn't, it's not like, I mean. The, the kids will probably sleep early tonight."

"Perfect, you won't have an excuse and he'll finally kiss you. Oh, Vision. Hello, dear, I'm saying goodbye to Peter. That idiot might kiss him tonight."

"Hello? Hello, Peter. I'm very happy for you both; but may I request you kiss after midnight? I'm afraid I made a substantial bet regarding that kiss and was hoping to get Clint back over Banner and Natasha."

Great, he'd died and entered a hell where the only thing he could do was stutter and flush crimson. Typical Parker luck, really.

"SurebyeMrandMrsMaximofflaterWade."

He slammed the phone back on its pedestal, dove into the leather couch and screamed until his throat ached.

--------

"Daddy? Peter, daddy's here! Don't let him go to our room until we're done with the Christmas card, please!" He yanked his head from under the cushions, scrambled to the door, tripped over Morgan's race car, narrowly avoided the destruction of Rocky's Lego chop shop, hastily stashed a pink apron in the drawers by the door, failed to straighten his sweater (a gift from the kids' grandmother) and took all of ten seconds to fix his hair before opening the door. In the exact moment the owner of the house leaned against it to enter.

There's a second where realization kicked in, worry is splashed over both their faces, he darted forward to help so the man's heart didn't shut down on them right then, said man wanted to preserve such a young, healthy body; they tried to control the damage.

They failed. Spectacularly. Crashed into each other, somehow elbows and knees sunk into bad spots, bone snapped, ligaments wept in pain, a chest became winded, one of them got a black eye and the other a constricted throat. This was, of course, before it started raining and two idiots got drenched while piled up on the front door.

Peter gasped, wasn't sure whether it was better to lie under his dream, his wet fantasy, his goal in life or allow his brain some oxygen.

To be fair, this would only happen the once. He could breathe for the rest of his lonely life.

"Uh, welcome home, Mr Stark. How was work to, today, sir, that's not my thigh." Wade would know. Jesus, Wade would find out Mr Stark touched his dick for the first time and it wasn't even on purpose.

"Kid, I'm so sorry. Here I was wondering if I could give you your Christmas gift without ruining the box and now look at me. Peter, you don't have to come back to work if you don't want to-"

"Wait, you got me a gift, Mr Stark?"

"I will pay you for this whole month, obviously." The man shuffled back, attempted to shakily stand up like a foal and immediately slid down onto the sleek young man.

"Not come back to? Mr, ow, Tony, I'm not going anywhere. Not on Christmas, not ever. Look at me." Don't look at what's between my legs, Peter prayed, don't look at how you are between my legs, don't look.

Tony Stark glanced down, inhaled sharply and snapped his gaze to the au pair's. He may have leaned against what he hoped was his Christmas gift. Maybe.

"I'm not leaving, Mr Stark." The rain kept drizzling into the house, his throat continued to ache, the distance between their two bodies remained the same. But there was something in Mr Stark's eyes now, yes indeed, something Peter had resolutely ignored for the past six months while working with the sweetest family he'd ever known. It was the same something Wade yelled about when talking about his best friend's employer's face as it regarded the au pair.

"I think Wade might kill me if -"

"Rhode's is gonna choke me out if-"

"Are you two gonna kiss or not?"

They risked whiplash to peer right at, or, in Peter's position, upside down at Morgan and Rocky who unflinchingly stared at the ridiculous site their fathers made. Rocky even shook his head the way Tony did when he was disappointed. Little Morgan criss crossed her arms and Peter thought he'd sob because that's just how he taught her.

"We were going to put mistletoe on the door when you came in; we finished the holiday card months ago so that was the one thing left on the to do list."

"Months ago? I helped you two make one last week!"

"Oh yeah, how were you going to hang up mistletoe, daughter mine? There's no nail." A soft thwump over the doorway. It seemed Clint had given Morgan her own bow. And she knew how to use it.

They collected their courage, scraps of reduced pride, some drool and a tiny drop of sweat before turning to the man they'd been waiting for for so long.

"Mr Parker, will you do me the honor of bestowing a kiss upon an old man with creaking bones and heating hair?"

Oh. Oh, this was happening.

"I love your hair and I'll get you a walker that has a cup holder for water and a few pain pills. Mr Stark, will you kiss a kid from Queens who's so into you the red devil of Cliffwood himself doesn't dare sleep with either of us and get in the way?"

"Well, first of all. A walker, really, am I that old. Second, nice call on the pain pills, very good save on the hair. And please. He'd never get in the way of us two-"

"Great, are you gonna kiss me?"

"Why, Mr Parker. Don't mind if I do." It was a soft statement he would otherwise confuse as a plea.

"Fucking finally." That was a bit more of a pained gasp instead of a sigh of relief, but Morgan and Rocky were doing enough sighing for the both of them afterwards.

Afterwards though, when the blood is finally distributed to the right places

"Yeah, I think I broke my wrist and you should get that throat checked. I'll get the car."

"Tony, it's the fifties. I can get the car while you call Bucky to look over the kids. Anyone talks to me and they'll think you had something to do with my throat."

"That is a fantastic idea, sweetheart. Save it for later, maybe raincheck?"

"Get the car, Tony."

"Yep. Come on, you rascals. Help an old man out."

----------

Wade can't look at Tony without howling, mutters something about a limp wrist while Vanessa sighs and apologizes, compliments Peter on surviving life with a ridiculous best friend by his side. He says it's ok. Wade's his go to guy for whenever Peter has to get his head in the game and his lips on Tony's.

[moving-blogs-dm-for-new-one]

T*cc* Toby character and story redesign :D

Toby and his family moved across the states after the accident. They were moving to West Virginia, a more rural town surrounded by forest. He didn't want to be there, but he didn't have much of a choice. Really didn't help his mood when his father basically screamed at his mother for the entire three day trip. He was slumped in the back of the car, ticcing uncontrollably, one hour to go on the drive. He winced when his father yelled at him to shut up, sighing and trying to hold his vocal tics, again. Maybe he could make it until they reached the new house.

They reached the house, and he quietly helped unload the car, gently helping his mom climb out. Sighing, he patched her up quietly later in the bathroom, and let her cry on his shoulder, ticcing quietly.

For the next two and a half weeks of summer, Toby pretty much just laid in bed. He didn't have much energy or will to do anything. He would pull out his computer and play some games, but his father broke hit before their trip even began. He pulled out his old ipod from his 14th birthday, and laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling and looping the same playlist on shuffle endlessly to block out his father. Same old, same old.

When school started, he absolutely did not want to be there. His Tourette's was neigh uncontrollable, and he couldn't help but tic through every day. Of course, the other kids in class were horrible to him about it. He was bullied relentlessly, and was beat up on the first day of school, and many days after that. He went home, his mother patched him up, his father mocked him, and he went to lie in bed again. It went on like this for a few weeks. It was August second when his dad broke his mothers nose. They got into a fight and he slammed her head on the counter. Toby was furious, but he quietly patched her up, ignoring his father egging him on.

That night, he had sleep paralysis again for the first time in a month or two, but it was different this time. His eyes opened, and there was a being standing at the end of his bed. He couldn't tell who or what it is. Could have been his father if it wasn't so tall. They stared at each other for around three hours before Toby fell back asleep. He was afraid, yes. But not much bothered him since Lyra died.

He mourned her every day. He never stopped. His mother mourned in silence, afraid, and his father cursed him to move on, but he didn't. He was never one to pray, but he lit candles for her the way she used to, prayed to a god they'd both loved, Dionysus. He cried for her at night. She never left his mind. He missed his sister more than anything in the world. He had a small alter in the back of his closet so his Father wouldn't find it, candles, pictures of her, foods she loved and special items.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Toby began having hallucinations of the creature he saw. It was everywhere. It was in the reflections of mirrors and windows, across the school yard while he was being kicked, at the end of the street when he pulled down his blinds, and behind his eyelids every night when he tried to sleep. He couldn't understand why it was haunting him.

His mother noticed his extreme paranoia, depression, and unrelenting tics/tic attacks, and scheduled him for a meeting with a local psychiatrist. She talked him up for the whole drive, and he smiled and nodded, not wanting to be there but not wanting to further sadden or worry his mother. Her arm was in a sling today. It was bad enough she was driving him.

He met with the psych, sitting down in the office. She asked him how he'd been. He didn't know how to respond, but suddenly felt bitter.

"Fantastic. Obviously that's why mom brought me here."

"I'm sorry, Tobias. I thought I'd let you give your own input." He felt bad for a moment, before wincing at the usage of his full name, getting more frustrated. He hated this already.

"Don't call me that. It's Toby. I'm Toby." He was fighting his vocal tics as he spoke, but his physical tics were getting worse in response, and he saw her flinch and lean a bit further away in his chair. He felt a pang through his heart, immediately angry. But he wouldn't blow up. He wasn't him.

Then he saw the figure behind her.

He didn't even hear what she was saying. He just stared at it. For some reason for as much as he'd been seeing it, he'd never seen it in such clarity, and it was still fuzzing around the edges, almost as if it wasn't fully there. It towered over the back of her chair, slowly leaning down to him.

"Toby," It spoke, and he could barely comprehend its voice. It was garbled, layered, echoed over itself endlessly and buzzed and burned inside his ears. "I want to help you. Let me help you."

He screamed, grabbing a lamp off the side table next to him and whipping it at the creature. He heard the psych scream and froze, whipping his gaze to where she was holding her arms over her face, ceramic and glass sprawled on the floor behind her at the base of the wall. They made eye contact, and he felt sick. He didn't understand. He wanted to say sorry. He suddenly wanted to explain everything. He wanted to say he wasn't him. He wanted his mother. He wanted Lyra.

He passed out.

Toby awoke later in his room, still feeling sick. The lights were out, his room only illuminated by the moonlight casting in through the blinds and the yellow light seeping in from under his doorway. (tw heavy abuse and murder after this) He could hear his parents screaming downstairs. There was a smash, his mother was crying. He jolted upright, tics coming back harshly as he tried to quietly make his way to the top of the stairs, peering down. His father was screaming about him.

"We have to get rid of him, Evelyn," He screamed, furious. "He's a disaster. He's dangerous and annoying and he's a fucking nuisance anyways!! And now I owe that stupid fucking psychiatrist so much goddamn money!! What is wrong with you!!" His mother cowered away from him, shaking, but angry as well.

"We are NOT getting rid of our SON, Greg! He's just scared and sick!" Toby winced at the phrasing of "sick", but continued watching, listening. He felt static pulling at the edges of his vision, but ignored it, honing his eyes in on his father.

"He goes. Tonight, or tomorrow, your choice, Evelyn, but he's fucking going. He's young enough to get thrown at the orphanage." He took a large swig of beer, stumbling slightly, and Toby twitched, hands tightening so much on the railing bars he thought he might splinter them.

"No. He is not." His mother shook, standing up to him, fists clenched. He stopped, and both Toby and his mother held their breath.

"Excuse me?"

"He's not going. No."

The next few minutes were a blur. His mother was hurt, and hurt bad. She was crying, and his father was screaming at her. The living room was trashed. Toby ran down the stairs and his father heard, spinning around and screaming after him as he darted into the garage, heart thumping almost as loud as Greg's thundering footsteps. He found his fathers old hatchets in the back of the garage, his blood pumping in his ears. Everything was hazy and the static crept further into his vision.

"Let me help you."

He spun around, hatchets gripped tight in his hands as he shook and ticced. His father tore into the room, drunk and furious. He saw Toby bearing the hatchets and laughed deliriously.

"Now what are you gonna do with those, boy?" Toby almost blacked out at the name, screaming and sprinting forwards. A mass fight ensued, the two of them struggling against each other to gain headway, Toby's mother screaming in the background. Toby pinned him down. He spat curses and slurs and all kinds of horrible things about him, his mother, his sister, Lyra. He raised the hatchet, and brought it down on his skull. Blood sprayed and his mother distantly screamed in horror, but he didn't stop. Another swing, another, another, another, another. Tears poured down his face, but he didn't feel it, notice, or care. His arms stopped swinging. He looked up. His mother was holding his arms gently, but securely, the creature standing behind her, looming over the both of them. He was towering.

"Toby," She whispered. "That's enough. He's dead, love." He looked down, sniffling and ticcing, and he was.

She helped him up quietly, and he whimpered.

"Are you gonna turn me in?" She stared at him, then shook her head.

"You're my son. I'm not getting rid of you."

She cleaned him up quietly in the bathroom, and held him close as he cried, openly, for the first time in months. He clung to her, whimpering and ticcing and sobbing, and told her everything. She listened quietly, gently soothing him and brushing his hair. Eventually, she shushed him gently, making him look at her.

"We have to go, love. Quickly. You can tell me more once we're gone, okay?" He nodded, sniffling and taking her hand. They gathered their things, climbed into their car. She paused. Got back out. They lit the house together, and watched it burn for a moment. He felt the presence behind him, and saw his mother take his hand.

"Come on honey," She whispered. "Lets go."

They never looked back.

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

Toby: (notes)

- 6'3", 17 years old, tall and broad. Always been heavier set and naturally slightly chubby, and decently strong.

- Has a nerve issue from birth where he can't feel a good 70% of his body, mostly the upper half and patches of the lower.

- Nonbinary (He/they/it), and pansexual. Gender dysphoric. Occasionally tucks and wears bras and other things sometimes.

- Has Tourette's, OCD, BPD, PTSD, Manic, ADHD, depression, s/icidal tendencies, struggles with compulsive sh, and has mild paranoid schizophrenia.

- Sees the Slenderman more than his mother, but she can see it on occasion. It doesn't hurt them. Guides them more or less. Helps Toby target similar individuals to his father.

- Stims a lot by cracking his knuckles, flapping his hands, tapping his foot and cracking his neck. (I also have a list of his tics!!)

- Loves his mother and Lyra so goddamn much

Evelyn: (notes)

- 43 years old, 5'2", small but definitely not frail. Will fuck you up if needed. Doesn't take shit anymore after leaving her husband. Also bisexual queen

- Huge soft spot for kids, and Toby. Loves Toby so much and lets him basically get away with everything (not that he uses this for any harm to her or those who don't deserve it)

- Knows Toby is a serial killer, assists him with some cleanup/travel/medical care/etc. Reminds him to take care of himself/cooks for him/helps drive him around/etc

- Takes up cooking and martial arts as hobbies

- Loves her son so so so much he's so stupid and crazy but she adores him and would do anything for him

- Do NOT fuck with power duo Evelyn and Tobias Rodgers they WILL destroy you

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Worrying Too Late

A/N: Inspired by @not-that-kinda-gurl08​

Sitting backstage in front of a television, I did my best to wrangle RJ and Ty. They might enjoy watching their Dad and Papa wrestle, but it was hard to keep their attention on other matches. So I traveled with a bag of toys to keep them occupied, and just now it was almost impossible to find something they were interested in. Mattie, Nicole, and Lee were up in the production area with Kenny and QT Marshall.

           At just past sixteen, Mattie was already in training to follow in her fathers’ footsteps. Matt and Nick had bought another enclosed garage and set it back on the property behind Matt’s house. Inside, the old PWG ring was permanently set up. They’d worked with Matt Sr. to put in some wall air conditioners and ceiling fans. The Jackson Brothers School of Wrestling was open.

           She had the best trainers anyone could ask for. Besides her fathers, Kenny and Adam came by every other month or so and spent a week at a time working with her. Cody worked with her at shows, so did QT and Dustin and even Jericho. The only kind of training she didn’t have was lucha libre, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Matt and Nick were working on Pentagon and Fenix to do the honors.

           After the fiasco at her school, Mattie had been homeschooled… taking classes at a local co-op and traveling with Matt and Nick whenever they went to shows or other events. God knew, I was sure that being able to be with her fathers was the only thing that kept Mattie with us.

           “Look, Mama,” Ty said, pointing to the monitors. I looked up to see Matt and Nick coming out of the tunnel, Anna Jay already waiting at the top of the ramp. The three of them were in a six-person mixed tag match with Butcher, Blade, and Bunny.

           Even in her late thirties, Anna Jay looked as if she hadn’t changed. She was fit and fast and still amazingly talented. Her early years with AEW had included a strong run as the first female member of Dark Order, and she’d continued gaining momentum through the years since. She’d competed all over the world, and she’d won a good number of titles.

           As I watched, she hooked her arms around their shoulders and sauntered to the ring between them. The boys climbed up on the apron, reached down one arm and easily lifted Anna up beside them. Then they sat on the middle rope and lifted the top one to create a clear opening for her to climb into the ring. She stepped through, bending at the waist, and slipped through. The smile she cast them was beautiful and dazzling. They smiled back. Matt even winked.

           “Watch Dad and Papa,” I said to my sons, putting them on the sofa in front of the TV in the dressing room we’d been given.

           I walked over to the mirror over the vanity counter and took a long look at my reflection. When I’d met Matt and Nick, I’d been in my mid-twenties—settled age wise just between the two of them. While I had never thought of myself as a beauty, I’d been pretty. Now… I didn’t know what to think.

           Seventeen years had brought lines around my mouth. Crows feet at the corner of my eyes. Five children had added weight around my waist, hips, and thighs. My hair wasn’t quite as lustrous as it had been when we’d met. Whatever I’d been when I’d first set eyes on Matt and Nick Jackson, I certainly was less than that now.

           I could hear the boys shouting and carrying on watching the match. Their excitement let me know that the Bucks were doing well. I had to rely on them for the result. For some reason, I couldn’t make myself watch the two of them fighting alongside Anna Jay.

***

           The whooping and hollering from my sons was a clear indication that their fathers had won the match, something for which I was happy. I hardly saw my husbands after the match was over since they had to manage multiple parts of the show. In the meantime, I packed up everything I’d brought for the boys and tried not to dwell on the thoughts that swirled in my head. My eyes skimmed over the mirror every time I walked by it, not wanting to see my own reflection.

           It was almost eleven when they finally showed up in the dressing room, Mattie, Nicole, and Lee right on their heels. The five of them bore a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. RJ and TY had fallen asleep on the sofa not long after Matt and Nick’s match finished.

           “Sorry, Mama,” Matt said as he leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek. “Tony grabbed us on the way back.”

           I forced a smile. “It’s okay. Can you and Nick get the boys?”

           Nick nodded in response, but there was something worried in his gaze. It wouldn’t surprise me if he figured out that something was wrong, but I didn’t have it in me to talk about it just then. Honestly, I didn’t want to talk about it at all.

***

           We settled into the hotel half an hour later. Mattie and Nicole shared a room next to our suite. The boys were tucked together on the pullout sofa, although they wouldn’t go to sleep until Matt and Nick told them a story or two. They were growing up so fast, but they were still our sweet little boys. I changed into my sleep clothes and crawled into bed, praying I’d be asleep before my husbands came to bed.

           Matt slipped into bed first, curling up behind me and tucking his arm around my waist. His lips ghosted over the back of my neck. I waited for the sound of his even breathing, but it didn’t come. Instead, he whispered softly into the darkness.

           “What’s bugging you, Y/N?”

           I sighed and turned my head into the pillow. “Nothing,” I murmured, trying to force a yawn. I didn’t want to talk. Not about this.

           For a moment, I thought he was going to let it go, but instead he sat up and leaned over me. “I know that’s not true. We could see it in your eyes.”

           “So Nick sent you in here to do the intervention?” My heart skipped a beat, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

           Matt stroked my hair away from my face. “No, that’s not how it went,” he assured me. “You look so sad, and we hate seeing you unhappy.”

           Tears slipped down my face without my permission. I couldn’t look at him. I hugged the pillow against my chest and whimpered. How could I say what I was thinking? I felt stupid and useless.

           “Anna looked great tonight,” I said at last. It was as close as I could get to actually saying what was on my mind.

           “She’s good in the ring. QT trained her well, but what—” His head dropped, and he sighed, recognition clear on his face. He climbed out of bed and walked to the door, opening it and leaning out. I heard his voice and knew he was calling for Nick.

           A moment later, the two of them sank onto the bed. “Y/N, sit up and talk to us.”

           When I didn’t respond, they let out a huff and stretched out on each side of me. Matt curled his arm around my waist, and Nick brushed his fingers against my cheek. He kissed my forehead just as Matt nuzzled against the back of my neck again.

           “You are everything we could ever want,” Matt murmured. “There’s nothing about you that we would change.”

           The tears rushed out, slipping down my cheeks and onto the pillow. Nick swept his thumbs beneath my eyes to wipe them away. “Being with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to us. You are the most wonderful woman, and we are beyond lucky to have you as our wife, as the mother of our children.”

           I tried to hide my face. Shame swept over me. “I’m not the same as I was that first day. So much has changed.”

           Matt’s lips curved against my skin. “None of us are the same as we were then, Mama. But that doesn’t change how we feel about you.”

           “I’m not…” I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to curl in on myself. “You two look almost exactly the same as you did sixteen years ago.”

           Nick sighed and kissed my forehead. “And you’re still as beautiful as you were the first time we saw you. More even.”

           “I’ve gained weight.”

           “You’ve carried and given birth to five children,” Matt said firmly. “And there’s not an ounce on you that we’d change. Have you forgotten how much we loved seeing you pregnant? How much we love touching you? Holding you?”

           Nick moved closer, nuzzling his nose against mine as he trapped me between them. “No one is ever going to match you, Y/N. You are it for us. The most beautiful, the most kind, the most amazing woman to ever walk into our lives.”

           My heart slowed, soothed by their words. “You aren’t disappointed with me? I’m almost forty. I’m the mother of teenagers.”

           They laughed together, snuggling closer. “We’re almost forty, too, Sunshine,” Nick said playfully. “Matt’s gonna get there before the both of us.”

           “I got you by four years, little brother. And when our wife turns forty,” Matt murmured playfully, “we’ll celebrate how she’s still beautiful, still vibrant, still smart and wonderful.”

           “And way too good for us.”

           I took a deep breath, feeling my tears dry up slowly. My hands reached for them, one for Nick and the other for Matt. They cuddled me between them. “I love you both,” I whispered in the darkness. “I love you both so much.”

           “We love you too, Sunshine,” Nick reassured.

           Quiet settled in and soon, I was lulled to sleep by the sound of their even breathing and the warmth of their arms.

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @lilred91​ @imagineall-the-fandoms​ @maelleoute​ @librathepheonix13

[raelelliswrites]

It didn't start with the white dot; I know that much. The problem had started long before the white dot had ever shown its stupid face. There was evidence of its presence everywhere; the sandwich bread and peanut butter on the floor, the cat in the dryer, and the ironing board on the roof. The problem was, as with many other things in life, the start of this major change was about as easy to pinpoint as a slow moving current. Jamie knows best which came up first, but I can't ask her. She doesn't answer.

"Til death do us part" is a dice roll, a gamble on which of you will die alone. It was a scary thing to think about until I met Jamie. Her clear blue eyes wrapped me in a joyful and comfortable cocoon, and from the moment I saw her I knew I’d never be the same. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. We met in high school, my freshman, her sophomore year. "To the cutie who sits next to me in French class," she signed in my yearbook. A seed planted, rooted through subtle playfulness and teasing touches, bloomed in shy glances across the room. Her jealous girlfriend gave us reason to give each other a wide berth, but whenever we were in a room together, everyone felt a change in the wind. After college started and I showed up at her university, it wasn’t 24 hours after their breakup that we were kissing in the sprinklers of Old Main. Some judged us. We let them. Ten years later and counting, we still held each other tighter than ever and loved as hard as we could, the best we could. We raised our voices to prove a point, slow danced in our living room, laughed and cooked together, and made love. Every night, I looked into her clear blue eyes and knew I was safe. Before the white dot. Before the sudden change.

The first thing I noticed was her hand always at her neck. It didn't matter what she had been doing that day, worked or played, ran early in the morning or slept in. She was always waking up with a crick in her neck and no number of massages from yours truly could help. Jamie started out taking two pain meds daily to handle the pain, but it soon became three pills a day, then four. At least, those were the meds I saw her take. She always had her left hand on the back of her neck. It creeped into our conversations, into her laugh. She had this big beautiful belly laugh that shook the room, scared the cats, and captured me absolutely. Now her laugh stopped itself short. The left hand went up, followed by a grimace. The house remained unshaken. Jamie became quieter with the constant pain on her mind.

The next thing that came was a confusing amalgam of symptoms pulled from every which illness. Her doctors couldn't make heads or tails of it, even with her studious research and symptom tracking in her journal. Her heart rate would drop and her blood pressure would spike as she stood up, causing her to faint if she stood up too fast. Soon she holed up in one part of the house at a time, migrating like a mammal from the office to the bedroom and back again. We got her a wheelie office chair to get around the house before we realized that this wasn't going away. A proper wheelchair was too real. Jamie struggled with her new reality in a way I hadn't expected. I came home from a walk one day to find her painting peanut butter on a smattering of sandwich slices on the carpet. "I haven't vacuumed that in weeks, you know," I said. I picked up sticky bits of hairy bread and dropped them again, covering myself and the carpet with peanut butter. Jamie didn't say a word, only kept buttering more pieces of bread. Her rolling chair lay overturned next to her.

The person I had known since high school seemed to vanish before my eyes, deteriorating to a shell of a woman, usually checked out. Amid the worst of it, she didn't do her ritual "cat check" before locking our littlest one in the dryer and starting it. She didn't hear her screaming for Jamie through the door, until she was silent, overheated, overbaked. Jamie wailed her head off when she found her later, neck twisted and warm. We buried our little one in a shoebox in the backyard. I held Jamie as she cried big wailing sobs, silent tears rolling down my cheeks. We didn't sit shiva with anyone, though. The sickly smell of flowery dryer sheets and burnt hair permeated the house until Jamie and I became immune to it. House guests, we had none. Close friends and family slipped away one by one, as Jamie ignored call after call. Who would dream of entertaining in a house that smelled like burnt cat? Laundry went on the list of chores Jamie couldn't do by herself.

Jamie wasn't in her right mind, I'm telling you. But it wasn't her fault she was ill and I had to take care of her. Not only because she deserved dignity in her decline, but because I loved her with my whole heart. I still do, kitten killer or no.

That's why I was so concerned when I woke up one morning to notice Jamie was missing. Her rolling chair was next to the window that overlooked the garage, next to the sink. The broom closet was ajar, the iron cold and discarded on the floor, brooms and mops strewn on top of each other like dolls tossed aside. The ironing board was missing. The kitchen window was open. A shadow moved across the dead lawn outside as I heard clunking coming from above me. The pit of my stomach dropped.

Much of what happened next seemed to happen as if in a dream. I pulled on my white robe and headed to the open window. Trying my hardest not to look down, I climbed out of the window onto the rickety roof shingles. One foot, landed. Careful, now. The other foot landed. I shifted my weight onto my feet, only for them to skid on pebbles lining the rooftop. I gripped the window runner so tightly I could almost taste the metal. I steadied myself. My heart was racing, air caught in my throat. This time I tested my weight first, then shifted. Before I knew it, I was on the green garage roof, right below the roof of the attic. I heard a scrape, and a shuffle. Another scrape. A shuffle.

I told myself I wasn't going to look down, but in that moment I did. I looked down at the dead yellow grass littering our yard to see the shadow of a deformed mud monster pulling itself out of the bog on top of our roof. No, not out. Along. Scrape. Shuffle. The arms pulled, but the body only went sideways, raking itself across the roof little by little.

My foot slipped and I gasped, skidding across the stones and battered roof shingles. I grabbed my hands out behind me to slow myself down, hoping to create enough friction to stop. My open robe billowed out behind me like a cape as I kept sliding. I kicked my bare feet out in front of me, trying to get traction, ignoring the burning as my hands and feet ran across the sandpapery shingles.

My heels were the first to fall over the edge, red and raw from kicking. My hands didn't know how to find steady bearing but kept grabbing for it. My knees went over the edge. All I could picture was my body ketchup splatted on the ground below. I turned toward the roof, tried to claw my way back up. My hips and torso followed my feet, gravity pulling me down, down. As the top of the garage roof slipped away from my sight, I could only squeeze my eyes shut and pray. My hands heard my prayer, and though my palms and fingers were sweaty, a stuck out nail pierced my left palm and held me there, hanging from the verge.

I cried out, partially from pain, partially from shock. I was still hanging on.

Blood broke against my eardrum as my heart beat itself back to normal. Scrape. Shuffle. At first I tried pulling myself up with both hands, but the palm with the nail in it complained. I had to pull myself up using only my right arm. I scrambled to grab hold of the gutter and swing my right half back over the ledge. When I finally got myself back up, I tried to pull my left hand off of the nail. The area surrounding my wound was a little numb, but the area in question was too tender to jerk from the point. With my other hand, I peeled the shingle attached to the nail from the roof and carried it under my hand, nail and palm intact. I heard a puffing of air above me: Jamie gasping for breath. Whatever she was doing was tiring her out.

As I climbed the ashy green tiles, traveling from the garage roof to the attic roof, the extreme change in Jamie I had seen in the last month struck me. She used to be a force of nature; an engineer with a quick-witted tongue that could pierce through the steel of the most guarded of hearts. I fell in love with her more and more every day. Her beauty ran marrow deep, no more inseparable from her intelligence and empathy than the color swirls of pulled taffy. The depths of doldrums had steamrolled Jamie's bruised and bleeding heart. I had seen her at her lowest of lows, cutting wit bit into her own flesh, turned against herself without knowledge of a clear enemy. I held her when she dissociated completely, empty eyes streaming, snot dripping in long strings onto her clenched fingers. One night, I remembered as I circled the attic roof, I even talked her down from slicing rivers of blood through her forearms and wrists with a rusty razor. Those were the dark times, and they had tested us, tested Jamie in her resolve. But never, ever had I experienced anything like this.

I found a foothold in a missing roof tile about halfway up the slope of the attic roof. As I reached for the top of the roof, I bounced my leg in preparation for a full climb up. Scrape. Shuffle. I could see the top of Jamie's dark brown hair and the side of her creeping frame. She looked behind her and I waved, calling out, "Jamie! Hey!", but she wasn't looking at me. She pulled something with the arm that wasn't dragging her body along and looked to make sure she still had it. The ironing board. What does she want with the ironing board up here? I couldn't guess.

I pushed off the plaque of tile I had chosen, reached my right arm up, and jumped for the top of the roof. My hand found the curve of the dusty tiles and I used my jumping momentum to run against the slope of the roof. I scrambled to the top. I wobbled as I was about to get to the top of the roof, and instinctively reached my left hand out to balance. White hot pain flashed through me from palm to shoulder. The blood-covered nail wedged through my tendons. The metal tip poked out between my knuckles. "FUUUUCKOWWW!" I wailed, pulling my left hand back, and my face turned toward Jamie. Her form, clung to by her white nightgown, never stopped, never looked back.

The wind whistled and whipped Jamie's hair around, a welcome reprieve on a cloudless summer day. She only kept pulling herself forward, left arm carrying the ironing board. Scrape. She was almost at the ridge of the roof. Shuffle. Jamie pulled the ironing board in front of her, panted in place for a moment, then began lifting her torso up on all fours, then, onto her feet. Jamie straddled the tent of the roof. She seemed to have a moment of stability, then her hands wheeled behind her as she righted herself from falling forward. "JAMIE! Fuck!" I screamed more to myself than her, certain she would fall. Jamie didn't fall, though. She continued to push the ironing board forward, the pointed tip of it peeking over the edge. We weren't a particularly religious household. In our home, God was more of an abstract concept. To us, God was our love, our bed was our temple, our promises to each other, our prayers. I began crawling, a three legged animal holding my hurt paw to my chest, and for the second time that day, I prayed.

My heavy breathing echoed through the wind as I neared Jamie, standing at the tip of the roof, sun rays streaming through her hair and arms. As I squinted at her, I raised my bad hand to block the light. Jamie pushed the fulcrum of the ironing board out to the edge of the roof now, and began to walk along it like a plank. A sound like the wind passing through a dozen vacuums. As I peered through Jamie's wobbling legs over the rooftop to the ground, I saw a mass of people agape. Jamie took another step forward along the spine of the ironing board, balanced herself. Once she reached past the fulcrum of the board, that balance would not hold. Distance closed between Jamie and me, and I gazed up at her. How was I supposed to get her attention without causing her to fall? How would we survive this? Jamie took another step forward. A siren whooped in the distance.

I looked around, searching for anything that might help. The only thing nearby was the small round chimney top jutting out, neglected of a good cleaning for years. Think, think, think! Jamie took another step. Think! I closed my eyes and patted around my right robe pocket. Nothing there. I sat straight up and patted through my left pocket. A bulge of soft white plumped out from the pocket. Ha! I grabbed the robe tie in the pocket and unfurled it, then looped it around the chimney and watched it grow black with soot. I tied a double knot, first around the chimney, then around my closest foot. My bloody hand protested, but the hum in my ears and adrenaline in my blood quieted it. I tugged on the tie. The black chimney top wobbled, green tile dust filming the base. Jamie took another step. One more and she was going over the edge. The chimney would have to do. Red and blue reflected off one side of the black rickety cylinder. Sweat broke on my forehead, and I tried not to look down at the growing crowd, but I couldn't help myself. The group of ants cramming around our home seemed to shrink farther away as I looked. My stomach lurched; I tasted bitter bile. A megaphone wah-wahed in the far distance. I tugged at her white nightgown like a scared child. Looked up at her. No response. Jamie took a step.

The rest happened in the matter of an instant. The crowd gasped; I heard someone scream. I rushed forward; the ironing board went careening off the edge, Jamie at its helm. My right hand lurched forward and grabbed for Jamie's wrist. It reached her. Feeling her cool skin under mine, I squeezed tight and heard a pop. Gravity fought hard in the tug of war. I felt my body jerk forward, saw the sidewalk streak closer, felt the tie around my foot constrict like a boa, heard the metal of the chimney groan. "Jamie, hang on!!" I yelled, not sure if it fell on deaf ears.

Jamie looked up at me. Her eyes were vacant, big black pools of tar, lightless aside from a tiny, island of white in the middle. "Grab my hand!" I reached my stabbed hand forward, the flat head of the nail pressed against the wrist now holding Jamie's life. Pain tore through my palm, but I didn't care. As I grabbed Jamie's wrist with that hand, the nail pushed farther through the skin on the back of my hand. I cried out in pain, my grip on Jamie slipping with blood. Jamie's hanging arm swung up, her hand grabbing my left hand, the nail piercing through her palm.

Her eyes dilated inward, blue rings pushed the receding black back, until her pupils bloomed back open. Light returned to her eyes, and she screamed, loud and long. I yelled with her. The nail stitched our hands together. The blood in my foot pulsed hard, and the chimney top groaned forward, jerking us down closer to the ground. Our eyes connected. Jamie's giant wet eyes seemed to be lucid once more, and tears streamed down her face.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry, Red."

"You're gonna be okay," I said, "Hang on a little longer." The chimney groaned, then jolted us down as a screw came loose, then another.

"No matter what," I said, "I love you, Jamie. So much." Salty drops landed on Jamie's palid cheeks.

"I love you back," she whispered. My eyes blurred, but I wouldn't close them. Not for a second.

A black blob moved through the crowd at high speed, stopping under Jamie and I, its maw gaping wide. We rocked forward as two more screws on the chimney came loose. Jamie's foggy face blinked under me.

"Red-" she said as the last screw gave out. We tumbled forward into the black oblivion, down, down into gravity's grasp, into the yawning mouth below.

We fell into the firefighter's trampoline and bounced once, twice. Jamie and I lay there, swaying on the black stretch and cried, our hands still stitched together by one rusty roof nail.

The first responders and I tried to convince Jamie to go to the hospital. She insisted on sleeping in our bed that night.

"One more night with you," she said, "Before all they're gonna put me through," Jamie sighed, “I’m so tired.”

I couldn't say no to those eyes, especially because I needed a cuddle something terrible after the day we'd had. Bloody bandage on my left hand, I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and tilted up her chin.

"Okay," I said, and kissed her.

We lay in bed, holding each other. I turned to kiss Jamie goodnight before turning off the bedside light. I looked into her eyes, now back to that sky blue, and noticed...

"What?" Jamie asked, noticing my hesitation. I blinked. Still there.

"Baby, can you see okay?" I asked her.

"My glasses are a little scratched today," she said, "but I can see fine-" She took off her glasses. Looked at them. Put them back on. Took them back off. Blinked.

"I don’t think that’s a scratch on my lenses…" Jamie said. She looked at me, her left side in my shadow. Her left eye glowed with the lamplight. The small white dot from before, no larger than the head of a pin, reflected deep inside the black well of her pupil.

"We’ll tell them when we take you to the hospital tomorrow morning," I said with a weak smile. "People treat cataracts every day." I kissed her forehead, her lavender shampoo wafting under my nose. "It's nothing compared to what we survived today, right?"

Jamie looked at me, nodded and kissed me before shifting under the blanket and rolling onto her side. I was so certain, so secure in the hope of western medicine and the name of this culprit. Had I formed my mouth around the truth of it, I may have screamed at the sound of my own voice. I may have stood staunch in denial and dismissed such a moment of prescience as pure speculation. But I have no such sensitive gifts, and no reason to suspect anything different. If I only knew time was of the essence.

When I woke up, Jamie was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me. I shot up in bed. Her pupils, now pure white, reflected an opal shine. I was reluctant to think it, but Jamie was beautiful, even like this.

"Jamie, you're up!" I said. She seemed to recognize her name and tilted her head, but didn’t say a word.

"Okay Jamie, we need to get you to a doctor, like, now," I said. I swung out of bed and moved her toward the bedroom door. Jamie walked backward, matching my steps, but didn’t stop when I did and walked the back of her head into the corner of the door. I heard the dull thunk where skull met wood. I grimaced in empathetic pain, but Jamie didn’t seem to mind or even notice the blood. She kept walking backward through the door and down the hallway. Her eyes were glassy and her lips chapped. Dry bits of lip skin begged to be picked.

I must have been imagining things, but her skin seemed to have taken on a light gray hue, almost ashy in appearance. It was hard to tell in that dark hallway, morning sun peaking over the horizon and into our living room. I couldn't see well, but I thought I saw her lips twitch. The sides of her mouth curled upward, and a slab of drool dripped from the corner of lips. One white-blue eye shined in the dark, peaking through her mass of brown hair. My heart quickened dreadfully, confused with love and fear. Blood pulsed in my ears; crashed like ocean waves. I had a sudden vision of an antelope carcass being ripped open. I stepped back. As if in a dance, Jamie stepped forward. I sidestepped to her left, and her eyes watched me, her head on a slow swivel. I kept sidestepping, never keeping my eyes off her, never losing those eyes.

Once I got to the living room, I backed up step by step, all the way to the front door. The front door lock clicking open and Jamie swung her arms as she jumped her body around to face me. It was as though a distracted puppeteer piloted her movements. Now that I noticed it, Jamie’s arms hung too limply at her side. Her shoulders sat too unevenly on her long hourglass frame.

I grabbed the doorknob behind me, not daring to lose sight of Jamie. I had to get out. I was going to go get help, going to come back with paramedics and doctors, going to get help for my wife, my best friend. I had to leave, but I was going to come back. I turned the knob, slowly, ever so slowly, ever so quietly, then thrust the door open behind me. Jamie charged. The dull sound of her feet pounded the floor as she ran straight at me. The dreadful leap in my chest again, followed by its sinking into my gut like a stone, rippled nausea up my throat. I turned. I sprang. I ran.

Loping across the grassy yard, I had an urge to look behind me. My bare toe caught the edge of a rock. I fell, arms in front of me, and heard a loud crack. Something had broken, but I only cowered, eyes closed, not wishing to see what my possessed lover had in store for me. I listened to her heavy bounding draw closer and closer. My breath caught in my chest. It was another minute before I let myself exhale. The sound was heading away from me, to the car filled street in front of our home. I opened my eyes. She was racing straight into the busy street.

"Jamie!" I called after her, voice cracking. I crawled to my muddy knees. My face contorted at the crack of pain that shot from my bloody bandaged hand, but I couldn’t stop. I raced to the street. "Jamie! Stop!" A car horn blared as Jamie ran across the first lane of traffic. Tires squealed as the first car stopped before it reached her. It was the car in the second lane that sent her body flying to the pavement. It was still honking over and over even after it had screeched to a stop.

"JAMIE! Holy shit, no no no no..." I ran harder. She had to be okay. She couldn’t be dead, it wasn’t her time yet. We had so many good years left, years with more slow dances in the living room and cuddles in front of the fire, more arguments and apologies and birthdays. Jamie’s body lie in the street, a marionette with her strings cut, limbs splayed. I didn’t notice the pool of blood mixing with the mud on my knees as I kneeled over her fractured frame, watching for any movement of her chest. I stuck my hand out to find her neck slick and warm with blood. I traced her neck as I had so many times before. No pulse. I looked for her face under the wet tangles where her head must have been and moved her hair away from her face.

Her eyes lay open, white bloomed outward from her pupils, robbing me of one last gaze into her once cool blue irises. I tried not to notice how her skull dented inward, a cracked egg on a hot pavement, deflated eyeball leaking out of its socket. I brought my ear down to her chest and lay still, tuning out the small crowd that was now forming. No heartbeat. No breath. I held my own. Now, wait. I heard a rustling sound. At first I couldn’t tell where it came from, but then it got louder. The sound was unmistakable. It was coming from Jamie’s rib cage. The skritch scratching grew louder and louder. I sat upright, staring. That’s when I saw it.

Little white dots, like the ones I first spotted in Jamie’s eyes, began floating out of the crevices of her skull. First a few, then more, floated through the air in a choreographed flight, like dandelion seeds spread to the wind. Jamie’s arm twitched. It was all I could do not to scream. Cracked backward like a broken wishbone, her arm used what muscle it could to push her torso backward. She untwisted her spine. The other arm came to life and propped her up to sitting. More white specks leaked out of the gashes on her head. I could now see the pink and bloodied crater through her scalp where her brain kissed the concrete. Jamie, or what remained of her, placed one gliding bone joint on top of another and stood. Exposed ligaments and tarred hanging flesh dared anyone watching to disbelieve. The body took a step. And another. Haltingly, jerkily, until the body walked Jamie to the car that hit her. The driver stared in bewilderment as she lumbered up the hood of their car to the roof.

There, Jamie stood in the golden morning light. The sun reflected her eyes, the wind played with wisps of her hair. The spores streamed like milk out of cracks in her skull and soon poured out of her eyes, nostrils, ears and mouth. Jamie stood agape, her arms hung off her shoulders. As spores surrounded us and the nearby cars and bystanders, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Jamie was, even like this.

My heart leaped, dreadfully.

[ironfidus]

grief (is a freight train)

Angsty post-Endgame Iron Dad one-shot. 

Read here on AO3 (@a_matter_of_loyalty).

———

Summary:

In the wake of Thanos’s defeat, the entire world celebrates the return of their loved ones. But there are some who do not celebrate at all. 

The years pass, and still there are some who cry instead of smile, when they remember the day Thanos died. The day Tony Stark gave his life.

(Everyone mourns Tony Stark. But none as much as the people who knew him as more than just a hero.)

———

Every year, the world rejoices, flocking to the streets to celebrate a world rid of Thanos, a world full of all the people once lost in the Decimation. 

Every year, the world takes a moment to be grateful for its fortunes.

And every year, there are some who don’t. There are some who grieve, who see the day as a curse instead of a blessing.

Every year, there are some who gaze upon the larger-than-life monument of Iron Man with sadness instead of gratitude.

Because every year, the world remembers Tony Stark as Iron Man, their hero, the man they have to thank for bringing back the ones they love. His family remembers him as more.

(Pepper remembers the man with the tired eyes and the unfaltering resilience; she remembers the man who fought so hard for a world of people who, before realizing he was responsible for reversing their nightmare, would have mercilessly judged him every chance they had.)

(Morgan remembers the warmth, the love, the selflessness. She remembers calloused hands running through her hair, holding her up, tucking her into bed. 

She remembers the father who let her eat juice pops even after she already brushed her teeth, who told her bedtime stories and kissed her goodnight every night without fail, who whispered I love you 3000, kiddo to her from beyond the grave.)

(Peter remembers the constant check-ins, the hourly snacks to accommodate his enhanced metabolism, the upgrades to his suit that kept Spider-Man even more protected than Iron Man. 

He remembers the genius who sat patiently with him as they worked through his pre-calc worksheets together, never once complaining even though they doubtlessly bored him to tears. He remembers the mentor who helped him grow into the superhero he is today.

He remembers the fighter who bore the weight of the world without protest, who gave everything for nothing, who cared too much but was too afraid to show it.)

(Rhodey remembers the witty kid with a thousand ingenious ideas who showed up in his dorm room, the all-nighters driven by cans of disgusting energy drinks and stacks of pizza boxes, the frat parties and drunk stories spilling through loose lips.

He remembers the kindness and selfless generosity his best friend hid beneath a veil of biting sarcasm and snide remarks. He remembers every dollar Tony threw around in an attempt to rid himself of his misplaced guilt, the list of charities he was knee-deep in growing by the week.)

(Happy remembers Tony’s patience, his compassionate hazelnut eyes, his supply of second chances. He remembers his boss and friend’s sense of humor, and all of the times Tony laughed at or with him.

He remembers Tony’s trusting side. He remembers what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that trust. He remembers thinking he never wanted to break it. He also remembers thinking, shoulder-to-shoulder with Rhodey at Tony Stark’s funeral, that he’d failed.)

And when everyone else smiles to think of the day Thanos was bested, they don’t. 

Pepper enfolds Morgan in her arms, holding her little girl tightly as the sun rises on another day without their missing family member, and prays that they won’t have to lose each other, too. 

Peter locks himself in his room and desperately clutches his mask to his chest as he listens to KAREN play recordings of Mr. Stark over and over again, pretending he can’t feel the tears spilling over onto his cheeks.

Rhodey stares blearily down at his certificate of graduation from MIT and imagines a world where Tony Stark wasn’t his roommate. When he can’t, coming up short, he drinks himself into oblivion.

Happy finds himself at his (and Tony’s) favorite gym and wears himself out in the ring, throwing himself at contender after contender, none of them Tony.

:::

Seven months after Tony Stark dies, Peter stumbles across the framed photograph of him and Tony grinning at each other, an upside-down certificate held between them. It’s sitting there on Tony’s desk for all to see.

Lying innocently next to the photo, so unaware of its own implications, is the blueprints for the time machine.

Peter’s heart stutters in his chest. Eyes transfixed on his mentor’s smile, he feels himself fall, fall, fall—

(“Why?” he remembers asking Pepper months ago, after Tony’s funeral. “Why did he do it? Why did he have to die for – for a world that never even truly appreciated him?”

Pepper freezes, her fierce stare fracturing for a brief moment, falling apart to reveal the tears that seem so natural to her now. 

She smiles sadly at him, shakes her head, and tells him not to worry about it.)

It was for him, Peter realizes now. All for him.

He’s the reason Tony Stark is dead. He’s why Pepper cries herself to sleep these days; why Rhodey no longer has his best friend; why Happy often stares off into the distance like he’s remembering every “Forehead of Security” joke Tony teasingly made at his expense; why Morgan lost her father.

He did this. He killed Tony Stark.

For the first time in almost a month (a record, Peter, May pointed out earlier that morning, lips smiling but eyes sad, so sad, let’s aim for the small victories), Peter braces himself against reality and cries.

:::

It takes him weeks to muster the courage to confront Pepper about it. In the end, it doesn’t matter because she finds him first, sitting with Dum-E in her and Tony’s garage, looking down at the photo cradled in his hands with red, dry eyes.

“Oh, Peter,” she whispers. “Put the photo down, kid. Don’t do this to yourself.”

He looks up at her and sees a woman who’s lost everything. His eyes drag to the ring on her finger and flinches; she might still be wearing the ring, but she’s a widow now—because of him.

Pepper must realize where his thoughts are spiraling to because she shakes her head firmly, tears splattering onto the concrete floor of her garage. “Stop it, Peter,” she begs. “I had to watch Tony go down this road, too. Don’t make me do it again.”

“He did this for me,” Peter whispers before he can stop himself. “He – he had you and Morgan. He had the life he’s always dreamed of, but he risked all of that. For me. Why?”

Pepper’s face is painted in grief, and Tony’s death is the artist. (Peter is the artist, because this is his fault, he thinks. His.) “He wanted you to have the chance to fight for the life you deserve,” she whispers hoarsely. “This,”—she sweeps her arms around herself, a gesture to encompass everything he now has—“this is the life you deserve.”

The photograph clatters to the floor, falling out of Peter’s shaking hands.

He knows she means the fact that he is alive at all. He knows she‘s talking about all the extra time he and Aunt May have together, about Ned and MJ and him banding together as the inseparable Three Musketeers once again, about all the reasons he has to smile nowadays—

“Live it, Peter,” Pepper’s voice is soft, a broken plea. “Tony can’t anymore, but you still can. So fight, Peter. Live. Make him proud.”

—But when he looks at his life now, when he takes stock of everything that is a part of Pepper’s all-inclusive “this”, all he sees is Mr. Stark’s absence.

:::

When Peter gets home that night, he thinks of Pepper’s words and considers it. He even manages to imagine it—living the peaceful life Mr. Stark would have wanted for him, full of joy and laughter, full of eating Thai with Aunt May and watching Star Wars reruns with Ned and debating politics with MJ.

But at the same time, it seems impossible. He can’t truly see himself reclaiming that life anymore—a part of him knows it’s because the old him died with his hero.

Happiness is miles away from him, a faraway dream.

But for so many people in the world, it isn’t just a dream. Thanos has been defeated, and the people lost in the Snap have been returned. Millions of people have gained their loved ones back.

And he knows better than ever now how fickle life is. 

Peter looks through his bedroom window, peering out at his neighborhood, and knows that the streets of Queens are as rife with crime as ever. There are girls and boys everywhere staring out the windows just as he is, wondering where their mothers are, wondering when their fathers will come home to them.

Mr. Stark is gone, but other kids still have their parents. (For now.)

Peter’s lost his mentor, but that doesn’t mean anyone else should have to lose their own families. That doesn’t mean he’s allowed to use that as an excuse and wither away, hiding from all of the screams for help.

:::

Eight months after Tony Stark dies, Peter Parker shakily lifts himself up to his feet, wipes away his tears and dusts off his pants, and finally lets his eyes fall onto his Spider-Man suit.

For the first time in eight months, he doesn’t recoil away from it.

And finally, finally, finally—Queens’ beloved hero returns.

:::

For a while, Peter loses himself in his crime-fighting. He takes down criminal after criminal and pretends he can’t hear the worry in Pepper’s voice when she calls to check in every few days, or the wistful longing in Happy’s voice when Peter admits he’s finally taking up the mantle of the mask again, or the sob caught in Aunt May’s throat when she asks after his injuries every night. 

He pretends he doesn’t hear Mr. Stark all the time, a ghost chiding him for his recklessness, pointing out every gang fight, and cautioning him against all of the gun-wielding muggers.

And for a while, it works. 

:::

Things get better. They get better—until they don’t.

:::

It goes like this.

Peter’s lost in his thoughts, walking absentmindedly down the sidewalk with his fists in his pockets and his head in the clouds, when all of a sudden a man crashes into him. Peter yelps, yanking his earbuds out of his ears, eyes wide as he stares at the dark pool of hot coffee spreading across his t-shirt. He doesn’t even register the pain until the stranger curses and apologizes profusely, his own hand red where the coffee spilled over his paper cup and scorched his skin.

Peter doesn’t hear him. 

He can’t hear anyone but Tony, laughing hysterically at him when Peter trips over an errant wire and takes Tony’s coffee down with him. He can’t see anyone but Tony, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and waving for Dum-E to “clean him up, buddy.”

It’s not real. 

Peter knows it’s not real. 

But that doesn’t stop him from wishing it is.

:::

It goes like this.

Peter’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of MJ’s hostel room, his Decathlon teammates gathered around him in a messy semi-circle. MJ’s flicking through her flashcards, calling on them one by one and helping them revise for their competition tomorrow as the murmur of the television hums in the background.

For the first time in a while, Peter feels grounded in the present in this cramped hostel room, with his friends surrounding him and the room’s one light cheaply flickering on and off above them.

But nothing good lasts forever. Peter should know that by now.

Because twenty minutes into their study session, Charles looks up at the TV in awe, whispering something about a new hero, about how “he’s like Iron Man and Thor rolled into one,” and—

Iron Man Iron Man Iron Man – 

—Peter’s world comes crashing down around him for what must be the umpteenth time.

:::

It goes like this.

Peter’s at his first Thanksgiving dinner without Mr. Stark when it hits him.

They’ve been going around the table, giving each person a few moments to utter their gratitudes: 

I’m thankful we can all be together again, like this.

I’m thankful I got to celebrate my son’s birthday last week. I’m thankful he’s alive to grow older.

I’m thankful for this team we can all count on to have each other’s backs.

I’m thankful for all of you.

He has no idea what to say.

A part of him knows, objectively, that there’s a lot to be thankful for—he’s alive. So is his aunt, his best friend, his classmates.

But looking beside him at little Morgan, knowing she will never get to have another Thanksgiving with her father, realizing she’ll hardly even remember his face come a few years’ time...

What is there to be thankful for?

The world thinks they’ve won. Peter sees Morgan, fatherless at four years old, and asks how victory can taste so much like defeat.

:::

It goes like this.

He’s building LEGOs with Ned, listening to his best friend ramble about how Betty agreed to go on a date with him when Ned accidentally knocks over one of the Millennium Falcon’s laser cannons. The section lands on the floor with a loud crash as it breaks apart into its individual components, black and grey and white LEGO pieces bouncing away and rolling under his bed. 

Ned cuts off his endless chatter with a sheepish apology, but Peter just laughs and shakes his head, dropping to his knees and feeling blindly for the LEGO pieces. Eventually he gives up, tugs out his phone with a groan, and shines a flashlight into the darkness.

The light from his phone casts a bright glow over the scattered LEGO pieces. 

It also lights up the plastic Iron Man mask he’d cherished as a little boy.

Peter’s heart stops. His phone falls out of his grip, crashing to the floor with a thud. 

When Ned asks him what’s wrong, it takes every ounce of self-control he has to stop himself from saying: “Everything.”

:::

It goes like this.

Peter turns eighteen. Mr. Stark isn’t there to see it.

:::

It goes like this.

Peter walks into a bookstore with Ned at his heels, both keeping their eyes peeled for the type of book MJ might appreciate as a gift. 

He scans title upon title upon title, but in the end it isn’t a novel that makes him stop in his tracks, his heart lurching into his throat. It’s a little girl in the comics and magazines section, making animated gestures to her big brother, who smiles and nods indulgently at her, reaching up and picking out the book she‘s been indicating.

It’s an Iron Man comic book.

For a second—just a second—as he watches the little girl hold the comic book close to her heart—as he sees the effect Iron Man still has on the people who hold him up as their hero—Peter lets himself imagine Mr. Stark is still here.

(Peter wishes he could call his mentor up right now; wishes he could let Mr. Stark know that it is Iron Man who managed to bring a smile that wide to her face.)

But Mr. Stark isn’t. He’s never going to be here again.

Peter stumbles away from Ned and his friend’s excited babble of “look, she’s going to love this one,” and locks himself in the nearest restroom, collapsing against the toilet bowl and throwing up.

:::

It goes like this.

Happy is the one who ends up teaching Peter to drive. When they both finally manage to convince themselves to go through with it, Happy pretends he can’t see the way Peter’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel.

Peter pretends he can’t see the way Happy shoves on a pair of sunglasses halfway through the lesson, his choked voice the only sign that betrays his anguish.

The whole time, Peter remembers a far-off past, Mr. Stark’s eyes twinkling at him as he swears he’ll let Peter test-drive all of his favorite cars as soon as it’s legal (and maybe even before then, as long as you’re with me the entire time, alright?).

:::

It goes like this.

It only takes Morgan three weeks to get attached to Peter and start calling him her “big brother.”

It takes her eleven more months after that to tell him, “I love you 3000, Petey.”

He doesn’t have to look around the room to know that Pepper and Rhodey and Happy are all freezing in place, staring at Morgan with the thought of Tony in their eyes.

He feels the same way. He swallows down a sob, cradles Morgan to his chest, and brushes a soft kiss to her forehead. His mind chants Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark like a prayer as he whispers, “I love you 3000, Maguna.”

Morgan smiles innocently up at him. Peter silences the sound of his heart breaking before Morgan can hear it.

:::

It goes like this.

He and May are in the middle of having a quiet dinner in—the first in months, with May getting busier and busier at work and with him avoiding everyone he cares about in his grief—when he finally hears back from MIT.

May ends up opening the sealed envelope for him when she sees how much his hands are shaking. She takes one look at the letter and screams in delight, wrapping him up in a hug so tight he can feel it in his bones.

She lets him go eventually, eyes bright and full of joy, and Peter snatches the letter off the table. He knows what it must be, given May’s sheer enthusiasm, but—

He stares at the acceptance letter in disbelief, barely hearing May’s giddy laughter. 

He got in.

He should be happy. He should be thrilled. He should be jumping up and down out of sheer excitement.

MIT was his dream, after all. Still is, beneath all the misery.

For some reason, he isn’t. Instead of a smile, it’s tears that grace his face as Peter presses a trembling hand to his mouth, silent sobs rattling his body.

(If he’s honest with himself, he knows the reason. 

MIT is Mr. Stark’s alma mater. For months before the end of the world, Mr. Stark sent Peter brochure after brochure advertising MIT. When Peter asked, Mr. Stark’s only response was to wink cheekily.

Mr. Stark isn’t here for him to ask anymore.)

(MIT wasn’t just his dream for himself. It was their dream, his and Mr. Stark’s. It feels wrong, somehow, to hold this letter that contains some of Mr. Stark’s greatest hopes and aspirations for him, in a world where Mr. Stark can’t see it. It feels like betrayal.)

:::

It goes like this. 

Peter’s shaking his principal’s hand, looking at the certificate proving his graduation dazedly, when he makes the mistake of looking up at the audience. He catches a glimpse of Aunt May beaming at him proudly, of Pepper and Morgan grinning beside her, of the assortment of colorful heroes decorating the front row.

His eyes zero in on the empty chair beside Morgan, with only a tiny Iron Man toy figurine sitting atop it. 

His heart plummets to his feet. Blood roars in his ears, deafening him to everything but Mr. Stark’s first words to him, a lifetime ago—“Nice work, kid.”

:::

It goes like this.

Father’s Day arrives. Peter wakes up with an itch in the back of his mind, picks up his phone, and then nearly drops it when his eyes immediately dart to the date.

Mr. Stark.

Peter swallows down the memory of the first Father’s Day he showed up at Mr. Stark’s lab, a sheepish grin on his face and a clumsily-wrapped present in hand.

Today… today, though, he has to remind himself firmly, It’s just another day. 

But it isn’t, and he knows it. 

Because ever since that first time, all of his following Father’s Days had turned into movie nights with Mr. Stark, the two of them armed with an abundance of popcorn and soda and ice cream. 

This year, there’s no text reading ready for another movie marathon, kid? on his phone. There’s no one to pick up when he instinctively calls Mr. Stark, a cheerful Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Dad! burning on the tip of his tongue. There’s no friendly reminder from KAREN that Mr. Stark’s waiting for him in his home theater. 

(There’s just an empty lock screen, his and Mr. Stark’s mischievous grins beaming up at him from his phone wallpaper. 

There’s just his mentor’s haunting snarky voice and the familiar voicemail greeting of “You know who I am, and I’m assuming you know what to do, or you really shouldn’t be allowed to operate a phone in this day and age,” that leaves his ears ringing and lungs heaving and eyes stinging for almost an hour afterwards.

There’s just a quiet You have no new messages, Peter, when he finally manages to yank his suit on and pull the mask down his face, only to press frantically at the spider emblem on his chest and take it all off again, his stomach rolling with nausea.)

This year, Peter spends Father’s Day in bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, eyes dry but still aching. 

(This year, Peter spends Father’s Day alone.)

Except he doesn’t.

Hours later, the Starks (missing one member, always missing one member) show up at his and May’s apartment, a watery smile on Pepper’s face and a subdued hey, Petey coming from Morgan. They’re each holding a bouquet of hydrangeas.

As soon as she’s close enough, Pepper offers him her bouquet, her smile stretching an inch wider. “You were his kid, too, no matter what your DNA says,” she whispers, and her voice is hoarse, like she’s spent all morning crying into her pillow. 

(At least, that’s what Peter’s been doing before they came.)

Peter opens his mouth to protest, but all it takes is one look at Morgan’s red-rimmed eyes and Peter knows he can’t say no. 

“Okay,” he breathes, even as he thinks thank you, even as he tries not to break down. 

(He fails.)

(That Father’s Day marks the beginning of a new tradition—one he dreads instead of looks forward to.

These days he spends every Father’s Day in a clearing in the forest that fringes the Starks’ lakehouse, holding Morgan’s tiny hand tightly in his own as she weeps into her father’s headstone.)

:::

It goes like this.

He’s sitting through a lecture at MIT when his professor quotes Mr. Stark.

He shouldn’t be surprised. He isn’t surprised. Anthony Edward Stark is a genius, after all, and this is a physics class. 

Still, it takes him back to the lab, to Tony Stark standing across him and giving him advice. He hears himself huff in annoyance and remind Mr. Stark that he’s hardly in a position to caution Peter about lab safety given his own infamous recklessness.

He strains to hear Mr. Stark’s response—strains to listen to his mentor tell him that the rules only applied to smart-but-stupid Spider-Kids with a penchant for self-sacrifice. 

But the words never come. In a flash, Peter’s back in Professor Johnson’s classroom, sitting in a cheap, uncomfortable chair that’s too stiff and nothing at all like the plush rolling chairs in Mr. Stark’s lab.

The rest of the world continues to spin on its axis, his professor continues to drone on and on about electromagnetism, and his classmates continue to whisper conspicuously amongst each other, but Peter’s world came to a standstill long ago.

The moment passes, but the breathless feeling never fades. Tony Stark’s perfected ‘Mentor Knows Best’ stare drilling into the back of his head, Peter struggles to inhale, exhale, in, out as despair strangles him, crushing his throat in a vice grip.

:::

It goes like this.

The first time he visits back home from MIT, Pepper asks him to take over as Head of R&D at Stark Industries.

He feels the color drain from his face.

She reassures him that he won’t have to drop out of MIT, that he’ll be able to dedicate most of his time to his education, that he’ll only have to put in a few hours and chip in a few ideas every so often.

She tells him she knows he’ll succeed.

Peter doesn’t bother correcting her. He doesn’t say that that isn’t what he’s worried about.

He doesn’t say that even though he knows it’s been ages, he still can’t fathom someone else taking up the mantle of his mentor’s job, even if it’s him. (Maybe especially if it’s him.)

He doesn’t say that he wishes no one would ever have to replace Tony Stark, in any and every capacity.

Instead, he forces himself to breathe and tells her he’ll do it.

:::

It goes like this.

Morgan grows up. She becomes a teenager, smart and gorgeous and full of life. 

Eventually, she meets someone. Tony isn’t there to greet her date with a firm shake of the hand and a piercing, intimidating stare the first time she brings him home.

Peter is.

Pepper thanks him when the night is over. Peter lets her hug him, and realizes with sudden, startling clarity that Morgan won’t have her father to walk her down the aisle one day.

The thought drives him to his knees, trembling, gasping, convulsing—

—breaking.

:::

It goes like this.

Peter is older now. He’s not the snot-nosed little kid who just lost his mentor (father figure) anymore. 

He goes to sleep smiling, heart full and content. He’s so sure he’s turning around, starting on a new path—beginning to well and truly heal.

Except—

Except.

He wakes up screaming, hands fisted in his sheets, tears already burning his eyes, and Mr. Stark’s dying, unseeing gaze is all he can see.

:::

So things get better, until they don’t. 

Even years after Tony’s death, Peter finds his grief violently, all-consumingly unpredictable.

Some days, it no longer hurts to breathe in a world without his hero.

Other days, it does hurt.

Other days, it takes next to nothing—a stray word, a picture in the news, a laugh that sounds too much like long days in the lab—to send Peter careening back into the past, into a time when he could simply take out his phone and text Mr. Stark about anything and everything—science fairs, birthdays, Decathlon competitions, cute dogs he ran into at the park.

Other days, it seems like anything can drown Peter, thrusting him back into the midst of his grief, a maelstrom of horror and shock and anger and misery ripping him apart. 

Other days, the littlest, most random thing can set him off, hitting him like a punch in the gut. (You’re terrible at this, Underoos. Who in the world taught you to fight—wait, no, don’t tell me. Was it Youtube? I bet you learned to fight from Youtube. Can’t even take a punch like you mean it, god. That’s it, I’m taking over—you and me, in the gym, 5:00 A.M. sharp. I’m just kidding, kid, stop looking at me like that. Of course I don’t actually mean 5:00. I mean, look who you’re talking to. God knows I can’t function before ten without at least two cups of coffee. Preferably three. I don’t even want to think about how many coffees I’d need to down if I wanted to be useful at the ass crack of dawn—Pepper would kill me, literally, and convince FRIDAY to help hide the body. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. Training. Let’s sat a date for 11:00 A.M. and call it a day, yeah?)

Other days, Peter fears he will never recover.

:::

The rest of the world moves on. 

Peter Parker can’t.

[mystrangerfics]

You’ve Always Felt Like Home

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Description: Anon Requested: prompt list 17 18 44 if you dont mind ❤❤❤

17. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?” 18. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 44. “You’ve always felt like home.”

Work Count: 2541

Complete Story Warnings: Language, Abuse, Angst & Violence 18+

Billy had returned to California rather unceremoniously. He had simply packed everything up and left one day, unable to spend another second with his father. He had only been back in his home state for about a month when the ocean waves brought you back to Billy’s memory in full force. It had been easier to forget you in Hawkins but here, you were everywhere. 

Billy and you had been together for almost a year when Neil had told Billy they were moving. You had both been childhood friends and known each other your whole lives. When his mother had packed up and fled his father, you were the only one that had been there for him. Even at a young age you had been able to understand how miserable it all left Billy. You were there when he was introduced to Max for the first time and Susan. You had tried to convince him that maybe having a new sister wouldn’t be so bad but you also understood that it wasn’t his mother. Billy didn’t want a new family, he wanted his old one or even just for his mother to come back and rescue him from his father. 

You relationship with Billy had started slow as you both awkwardly made the transition from childhood friends to emotion ridden teenagers. He had started dating around and hurt your feelings, in his defense, he had been oblivious to them. After a big blowup fight, Billy thought that was it until he saw you at a party one night with a guy on your hip and Billy realized, his feelings were hurt too. After another argument and way too much screaming, he had pulled your lips to his and the rest was history, until he left. 

He remembered back to how cold he had been towards you, he blamed you for ever dragging him into the relationship and acted like he didn’t care. He had told you that you were stupid for thinking the two of you would last, that you were foolish to think he wouldn’t grow bored with you. A week later he had been forced to move to Hawkins. There had been no goodbye, no kiss and no hug to lessen the pain he felt upon leaving California and you behind. 

Now that he was back, you were the only thing on his mind but two years had gone by and he wasn’t sure what he should expect. He figured he was chasing a wild dream when he pulled up in front of your parents' house, hoping he could find you. He had knocked with his breath held in his lungs, not easing in the slightest until the door opened and revealed your mother. He had smiled and made nice and she had welcomed him back but there was an air of uncertainty and Billy knew your mother must be aware of how he had ended things with you both. She had told him that you had moved out, lived with a nice boyfriend across town and that you were happy, the last thing Billy wanted to hear. 

He tried to give it all up, to forget you but it didn’t work. Every time he surfed, his eyes would go to the shore like a reflects, expecting you to be there, cheering him on like his mother always had. Every time he went to the boardwalk he could nearly feel the pull on his hand like you were dragging him towards some game, begging him to win you some stuffed animal or trinket. Every time he went to any of your favorite places to eat or drink, he would sit at the table alone and look across from it, wanting to see your smiling face adoring him. Regardless, he did his best to push you to the back of his mind and ignore his own pain for your joy. 

Billy kept up the act until he had been in California for about two months. One of his old friends had heard he was back in town and invited him to his wedding. Billy wasn’t going to go but when the day came and he had nothing to do, he forced himself to get dressed and head down to the ceremony. It was a pretty basic California wedding. They were having it on a cliff, next to the ocean. It was a pleasant day with the warm sun shining down through thick clouds that held no threat of rain. Billy found himself a seat on the grooms side and breathed out quietly through his nose, trying to relax into the uncomfortable seat. 

He saw his friend standing at the altar and soon enough, the “Bridal Chorus” began and Billy turned his head along with everyone else to wait for the bride to appear. Two bridesmaids came out in light, tropical blue dresses and smiled at everyone as they went. Billy nearly turned back, already tired of turning uncomfortably in his chair before the maid of honor stepped out in a flowing, seafoam dress. The dress wasn’t what caught Billy’s eye but the person it belonged to did, you. There you were, after all his time without you, you were there. You looked elegant with your hair done and wearing the long dress that fell off your body in all the right places and Billy stared. It was all he could do, he couldn’t pull his eyes from your face, not even to glance at the bride who was all done up for her big day. You were everything Billy remembered but you had aged into something even more beautiful and Billy realized he hadn’t taken a breath since seeing you appear. 

“She’s a knockout, huh?” The guy in the chair asked as he leaned towards Billy. 

Billy nodded his head mindlessly, figuring the man was referring to the bride that Billy hadn’t even glanced at. You finally looked up but you weren’t looking at Billy, you were looking at the man beside him. You gave him this cute bashful smile and a small wave that the man returned. Your gaze started towards Billy and he prayed you would meet his eyes, look at him, see him for the first time in two years but the bride finally hit her mark at the altar and your attention turned to her. 

The man beside Billy sighed like he was in a content daydream and when Billy glanced to him he saw the man looking at you. This was him, your boyfriend, the supposed amazing man who had swept you off your feet and taken away any chance Billy had at having you. He wanted to hate him, he wanted to punch him, he wanted this man to disappear but Billy remained quiet and held still in his seat, waiting for the wedding to end. 

Billy hadn’t planned on staying for the reception but upon seeing you, he had no intention of leaving. He had to see you, had to let you know he was back, that he had returned. He knew it was selfish to drag himself back into your now happy life but part of him prayed you’d been longing for him like he’d been longing for you. 

He watched you all night as you walked around and talked with friends and family of the bride and groom. Your smile bright and your boyfriends hand resting on your waist like it was glued there. Billy couldn’t blame him, you were too amazing to risk letting go of. When you weren’t talking with everyone you were on the dance floor, swaying to the music and resting with your head against the man's shoulder.  The reception was on the beach. The cool air kept blowing in from the ocean and rustling your hair as you danced beneath the twinkle lights and soft cream colored cloth that was hung around the makeshift dance floor. 

Billy was about to give up until he saw your boyfriend whisper something in your ear and wander off, leaving you on the dance floor alone. Billy didn’t know what happened but his feet started towards you and he couldn’t make them stop until he was right behind you. He cleared his throat quietly and you turned a bit, trying to see who had made the noise. The joyful smile on your face slowly sunk into a look of nearly fright. It was like you were staring at a ghost, a part of your past that no longer existed, had long since disappeared. 

“Can I have this dance?” Billy asked, holding his hand out to you. It was the only thing he could think of to say. He was panicking, he was out of his element. There had never been a girl in his entire life that made him nervous, besides you. 

You couldn’t make a sound as you stared into the blue eyes that had made your knees weak through most of your years as a teenager. Your hand slowly came up and he took it, his hand found your waist and you rested your arm gently on his shoulder. There was a moment's pause before he pulled you closer to him and he began to sway with you to the music. His hands on your body made you nearly choke as you remembered them far too well. They had touched every inch of you at one point or another. This was the man who had taken your virginity, had been your first real boyfriend and now he was back, right here with you, spinning you around on the dance floor of your best friends wedding. 

“H-How have you been, Billy?” Was all you could say and you wanted to kick yourself for it. You scrunched up your eyes at your stupid question as you stared past his head, trying not to think to heavily on his scent that was filling your senses. “When did you get back?” 

“A couple months ago,” Billy responded as all he could think about was your smell, your skin touching his and the way one stray curl from your hair kept brushing his cheek. “How have you been?” He asked and pulled his head back enough to look into your eyes, letting himself fall into them a little. 

“I-,” you began as your eyes seemed to be trapped in Billy’s, unable to move away. “I’m sorry,” you said before you slipped your hand from his and pulled your arm away from his shoulder. “I can’t do this,” you said quietly, almost to yourself before you grabbed up your dress and walked quickly from the dance floor, leaving Billy alone. 

Billy watched you walking through the crowds of people before you bumped into your boyfriend, almost looking startled. Your boyfriend had a concerned look on his face as you spoke before he nodded and wrapped an arm around you, bringing you away from the crowd and disappearing into the dark of night. 

__ __

Billy heard the bell ringing at the front desk of the garage he worked at and lifted his head. He had been elbow deep in someone's transmission and hoped someone else would answer the person in the front. When he heard the bell ding again a few moments later he sighed before pulling himself away from the car and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands on. 

Billy came into the front and nearly believed he was seeing things when you stood before him. You were in ripped off shorts and a loose fitting tank top, nervously playing with your fingers. Your hair was ruffled like you’d spent the morning out on the coast and your sun kissed skin caused a stirring in Billy that nearly left him without words. 

“Brad told me you were working here,” you admitted, seeming nervous. After the wedding you had called your friend and told her about Billy returning. She had remembered him and asked her husband if he knew what Billy was doing now that he was back. 

Billy didn’t speak as you seemed to be thinking, calculating your next move. He found himself staring at you, waiting for you to make up your mind. “So you’re back for good?” 

“Yeah,” Billy said before nodding and motioning over his shoulder. “I moved back out here, out of my dads,” he explained. 

“That asshole,” you whispered to yourself before shaking your head. “I’m sorry.” You quickly said and held out your hand a bit. You knew that was something you could have said back when you and Billy were close but wasn’t sure about everything now. 

“No, you’re right on that one. He is an asshole,” Billy said with a small smile. He looked at you for a moment as you seemed to sway a bit in your spot. “What are you doing here, princess?” 

You gave a weak smile at Billy’s old nickname for you and shook your head. “I don’t know,” you confessed and shook your head again. “I almost didn’t come. I almost left it alone.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Billy quickly admitted. “It’s-It’s good to see you,” he said with a small smile. “It’s been a while.” 

“Yeah,” you said, seeming to trail off as your eyes slowly scanned his white, tank top covered chest. His skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat and there were smudges on his shirt from the oil on the cars. He had the arms of his jumpsuit tied around his waist and your eyes stopped there before you looked back up at him. “I shouldn’t have come,” you said quietly. 

“Why’s that?” He asked and slowly walked himself around the bar that worked as the register. He got himself closer to you as he continued to wipe at his hands with his rag. He kept his eyes on yours and saw how you seemed to freeze up. 

“I’ve missed you,” you uttered the words so quietly that he almost didn’t hear them. “I always thought about that fight and when I found out you moved, I knew what it was.” That was what Billy loved the most, you always understood him, even when he didn’t understand himself. “I knew you were upset and I just wish you had told me.” 

“I do too,” he admitted now. “I missed you the whole time I was gone. I thought about you everyday,” his voice purred out low and you found yourself weak in your knees. “I met your boyfriend,” Billy said after a second, pulling himself back from you, remembering how things were now. “He seems nice.” 

“Yeah. He is,” you said, almost sounding sad. 

“He’s a lucky guy,” Billy said before he walked back behind the counter, separating himself from you before he did something he regretted. He looked at your pink lips and found himself only thinking about what they felt like, if they still felt the same. 

__ __ 

You and Billy seemed to run into each other everywhere over the next few weeks. It was like fate kept pulling you together and Billy couldn’t help but feel like he was supposed to act on it. It was a warm, sunny day and he finally had time off from work. He grabbed up his surfboard and brought himself to the coast, planning on spending the day out on the waves. 

He managed a particularly tricky one and smiled at himself before his eyes went to the shore like they always did. He had to do a double take when he saw a figure standing out in the sand, arms raised triumphantly and the sound of cheering carried over the waves. “Billy!” You hollered, cupping your hands around your mouth before you smiled and waved at him. He seemed to mindlessly wave back before he realized he was still surfing and lost his balance, falling into the water. You smiled at him before shaking your head and looking down. You had come out to clear your head, everything being so confusing since Billy had returned. You were wondering what you should do about everything and as you had searched the horizon for an answer, you had seen Billy riding on the waves. 

“Trying to kill me?” He joked as he came in from the water, dragging his board under his arm. “How are you, doll?” 

“Billy?” You asked and he looked up to you, his eyes squinting at your through the water dripping from his curls that hung in his face. “Can I talk to you?” 

“Of course,” he said before he set his board down on the sand. 

You both sat side by side like you had for many years, your toes in the sand as you stared out at the water. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” you told him as the wind blew your hair around your face. “I’ve been with Kevin for over a year. Everyone says we’re perfect together and that I’m lucky but they don’t know,” you said before sighing.

“Don’t know what?” Billy asked, a little confused but concerned at your stressed expression. 

“What he’s really like,” you said, your voice coming out saddened and defeated. “Sometimes I think I should just get over it and that I’m crazy but then I think about you and when we were together,” you explained. “You were never like he is.” 

“I don't follow you,” Billy began before his eyes rested on your neck. Your hair blew in the breeze and Billy's eyes ran over the yellowish, grey skin bruising there. He could nearly see the outline of fingers on the back of your neck. "Princess?" Bill said, his voice dipping into a saddened tone. He waited for you to turn your head and look at him, your eyes sad with knowing. Billy turned himself towards you and pulled you into his arms, letting you rest against his chest. You whimpered quietly and Billy felt the drips of your warm tears on his chest. "It's going to be okay." 

__ __ 

You kept coming around Billy more and more. Eventually you came back to his house and he would be lying if he said his heart didn't flutter when he saw you fast asleep, your head rested against his arm. You had both decided to watch a movie on the couch and everything felt like old times, except for the fact that he couldn't kiss you. 

When he didn't hear from you for a whole week he grew nervous and a feeling of dread followed him everywhere. He wondered if you'd been upset that he had also fallen asleep and not woken you. You had seemed fine but now you weren't coming around like you had been. He did his best to assure himself that everything was fine, even though nothing felt like it. 

Billy awoke from his sleep in the middle of the night and squinted his eyes at his clock on his nightstand. It was after three in the morning and he was confused as to why he was awake. He then heard a quiet knock and turned over in his bed, looking to his window. He saw you outside, your eyes watered up and your hair disheveled. 

Billy had went to the front door to let you in and upon its opening you latched onto him, burying your face into his neck. “Doll, what happened?” He asked, concern lacing his voice as you held onto him and he kept you close. 

“Billy, I’m sorry,” you whimpered and shook your head. “I just, I can’t go home tonight. Can I stay in your spare room?” 

Billy pulled back and looked at you, seeing your split lip and bruising cheek. His heart sank and he found his own eyes watering up. “You can do whatever you want, baby.” 

You looked into Billy’s eyes as his hands gently cradled your face and for a moment, everything felt normal. You felt like you were his again and you wanted nothing more than for him to press his mouth to yours. You lowered your face at the thought and shook your head. “Thank you,” you whispered before you pulled away a bit and headed down the hall, disappearing into the room across from Billy’s.

Billy sighed out softly and ran his fingers through his hair when the bedroom door closed. He felt stuck in his spot. He wanted so badly to take you into his arms and show you how much love you truly deserved. He also wanted to find your boyfriend and smash his face against the nearest hard object, make him feel the pain he was inflicting on you. When Billy realized there was nothing he could do, he made his way to his bedroom and laid down again, sighing a little to himself. His mind kept seeing your bruised face and he rubbed at his eyes, trying not to think about it. 

He rolled back over onto his front and hugged his pillow in his arms, his face rested against it. He didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep, knowing you were across the hall from him. Your warm skin so close but so far away. He closed his eyes and tried to push you from his mind for a moment before he heard his door click open. He rolled onto his back and saw you cautiously step into his room. You leaned back against the door and looked at him, seeming like you were debating something. 

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Billy asked with concern in his voice. 

“I can’t sleep, can I stay here?” You asked quietly, gently nibbling on your bottom lip. 

Billy debated the thought for only a second before he threw the covers down on the side of the bed you were closest to, sliding over onto the other side. You slowly walked over before letting yourself drop in beside him and covered up. Billy found himself hesitating as he laid behind you but your scent soon overtook him, your sweet fruity shampoo pulling him in. He rested a hand gently on your arm, testing your comfort with him. You relaxed against his touch before you slowly rolled onto your back, seeing Billy lazily propped up on his elbow, looking down at you through his lashes. 

“What’s on your mind, doll?” Billy asked as he stared into your swimming eyes. 

“You’ve always felt like home,” you whispered. “I’ve missed you so much,” you whimpered. “I thought I deserved what I had with Kevin but everytime he hurts me I just think about you,” you admitted. “You never laid a hand on me. No matter how angry you were.” 

“I could never,” Billy said defiantly. “You were my whole world,” he told you before he rested a hand against your bruised cheek, letting his thumb ghost the dark, grey skin. 

“I was?” You asked quietly, your tone giving away the slight disappointment. 

“You always will be,” Billy confessed as he continued to stare into your eyes. 

“I love you, B,” you whispered, calling him by his childhood nickname you’d given him long ago. 

“I love you too,” Billy said back, his tone just as quiet. He couldn’t stand it anymore as he watched your chest rise and fall and your soft skin laid before him. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours, feeling you finally give in to him. 

You gently raked your fingers through Billy’s soft curls as you held his face to yours, pulling him ever closer. You had wanted this for so long, missed it. The warmth of his mouth, the way he tasted like mint and cigarettes, all of it intoxicating you and dragging you under the veil of bliss. His hands ran hungrily over your body before he gripped your hips in his strong hands, bringing your mind crashing back into your past. A tightness swelled deep inside you and you whimpered against his lips. 

“Not yet, babe,” he breathed against your cheek, pulling his mouth from yours. “You won’t forgive yourself,” he reasoned and you knew it was true. Even though you knew Kevin wasn’t right for you, you also knew you’d feel guilty forever for cheating in your relationship. 

He placed a wet kiss against your cheek and you rested your cheek against his bare chest, feeling the warm skin there. His strong arms wrapped you up and you closed your eyes, breathing him in and imaging everything was the way it used to be. 

__ __ 

You spent the next few weeks sneaking your possessions out of Kevin’s apartment. Little things he wouldn’t notice here and there going missing from the rooms. Box after box was being packed away and moved to Billy’s house. Billy had offered to just come with you when you broke up with Kevin but you knew that would only end worse for everyone. You knew your safest bet was to move everything out, leaving all the biggest items for the last day and then having lunch with him somewhere public. You could break up with him without him doing anything crazy. 

You kneeled in front of the last box and were putting the last few items in it when you heard the door to the apartment open. Panic leapt into your throat as you looked at the many boxes in the room, full of your clothes and personal belongings. You knew Billy was coming to meet you to load up the boxes but he wouldn’t be able to just come in. The only other person with a key was Kevin and he was supposed to be at work. 

Kevin appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, looking unsurprised to see you with boxes packed around the whole room. “How stupid do you think I am?” He asked you, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe. “Ever since I saw him staring at you at the wedding, I knew there was something there. Billy fucking Hargrove, the love of your life. I wasn’t sure so I left you alone that night at the wedding and sure enough, he took his chance to cut right in. I only had to ask around a little before one of your friends spilled her guts. Your perfect teenage romance until he left and broke your heart.”

You slowly backed away from the box you had been filling, keeping the bed between you both. “Kevin, please?” You tried, your voice coming out weak and timid. 

“Please, what?!” He hollered and kicked a box you had on the floor. You shook and whimpered when it banged loudly off the wall. “You think you can just leave me!? After everything we’ve been through?! For him!?” Kevin walked over the bed, making you cower into the corner. You whimpered and begged for him to show you any sort of mercy but he grabbed you, crushing your throat with his fist. “If I can’t have you, no one will!” Kevin hollered before he slammed your head back against the wall, still holding your throat. 

“Kevin,” you wheezed as your throat felt like it was throbbing, your ears starting to ring as your whole head began to feel like it could explode from the pressure. “Please?” 

“I was always too good for you! You broke, worthless little bitch! You were never going to be anything but a thorn in my side! Holding me back because you’re trash!” Kevin screamed. “I could still love you after all of that and this is how you repay me! Leaving me for another piece of trash just like yourself!” 

Your vision was blurred and your eyes ached from the pressure of being unable to breath. You knew your skin had to be a deep red or purple as your struggling began to slow. You hit Kevin’s chest a few more times but your strength was dissipating and your hands fell weakly to his skin. 

Kevin held you until you sagged against the wall and he let you fall carelessly, your head hitting off the nightstand beside you. Kevin was looking down at you, figuring you for dead when his ears perked up.  “(Y/N)?” Kevin turned, hearing the voice call your name in the other room, sounding unsure. 

He walked out from the bedroom to see Billy had poked his head into the apartment. "Can I help you?" 

Billy felt his stomach tie up in knots when he saw Kevin standing in the apartment. You had said he would be at work all morning until you met him for lunch.  "I'm looking for (Y/N)," Billy said quietly, his eyes scanning the apartment. 

"She's not home," Kevin said as he neared Billy. "You'll have to come back later." 

"You lying sack of shit," Billy gritted out before he forced his way passed Kevin. He called your name as he walked towards the hall until he felt a hand on his shoulder rip him back and a sudden punch land to his face. He was taken off guard and fell back against the coffee table in your open living room. He groaned and tried to stand up before Kevin landed a painful kick to his ribs. Billy groaned and fell to the floor before he scrambled to get himself up. 

Kevin had grabbed a heavy bookend from one of the shelves beside your television set and hit Billy across the back of the head with it, dazing him. "You know, this couldn't have worked out any better for me," Billy heard Kevin saying but it sounded distant and distorted as Billy's vision swirled around. 

"You see Officer, I came home early to take my girlfriend to a surprise lunch. We already have the reservations downtown," Kevin rambled as he came back from the kitchen, a knife in hand, letting Billy hear his rehearsed speech. "But when I got here, some man had her by the throat in our bedroom! He choked her to death and in a fit of rage he came at me and I killed him! I nearly died!" Kevin said as Billy finally managed to roll onto his back, grimacing from his aching ribs. 

"You're fucking insane," Billy growled and winced as it hurt for him to breath. 

"I'm sure the cops will buy it. This poor guy whose girlfriend was having an affair with her high school sweetheart and things went sour. Maybe she decided to stay with me and you just couldn't stop yourself from killing her," Kevin reasoned. 

Billy's eyes flared up a bit as he glanced to the hall. He whimpered your name weakly before his eyes flickered back up to Kevin. "You'll rot in fucking hell," Billy gritted out before spitting at Kevin.

Kevin wiped the spit from his eye and tsked at Billy as he readjusted the knife in his hand. "You first," he said before he lifted the knife up, aiming at Billy's chest. 

Billy flinched before hearing a squelching sound and then slowly opened his eyes. He looked down at his chest before seeing that it wasn't him. Kevin was standing above him, eyes wide with shock as he gasped weakly a couple of times and stumbled back. Billy's eyes caught sight of you behind Kevin, looking disheveled and with tears in your eyes. 

Kevin looked at you as he slowly backed up until he hit the wall with a groan and slid down it. "Y-You," he hissed, staring into your eyes. You closed yours tightly and looked down, tears racing down your face as you heard Kevin take his last broken breath. 

"Baby," Billy called quietly as he slowly managed to sit himself up with a grunt. "Princess," he breathed and held his arms open to you. You finally collapsed to your knees and looked at the blood on your hands. "Baby, it's okay," Billy tried as he scrambled to you. 

You were hyperventilating as you stared at your bloody hands and when Billy grabbed you up into his arms you let out a loud broken sob that ripped through him. He quietly shushed you and held you close, covering your eyes to keep you from seeing Kevin as he laid dead. Your scissors stuck into his back. 

__ __ 

The police investigation was long and grueling and it took time but after a few months you were cleared of charges and things began to quiet. 

Billy had never wanted things to go like they did. You having to kill Kevin had robbed some of the joy that had always flickered brightly behind your eyes. Your night terrors were violent and guilt ate at you whenever Billy touched you. Having been abused by Kevin for so long had lead you to believe that this was all your fault. That you loving Billy had lead to all these horrible things and Kevin had lost his life because of it. 

"You're not a murderer," Billy had finally said one night, sitting himself down beside you on the bed. He had come home to find you sitting there, looking at a photo of Kevin and you when your relationship had been new and still happy. 

"I just kept thinking that I couldn't let you die," you admitted as you still stared at the photo. "Maybe if I had been a better girlfriend or hadn't always been so stupid, he wouldn't have been so mean and none of this would have happened," you whispered. 

"Hey, no!" Bill stated sharply. "This is not your fault. There was nothing wrong with you," he reasoned. 

You looked down to the photo before glancing up at Billy, tears in your eyes. "What if you start to hate me too?" 

"I would never hate you or hurt you," Billy told you with a firm voice. "You did not deserve any of that. Do you remember what you used to tell me about my dad when he hit me?" Billy asked, making your eyes drop a bit and shift away from him. "Say it." 

"He only hurts you because he doesn't know what love is, because no one who is capable of love could ever hurt you like he does," you said quietly, almost like you were reciting it from a constant memory. You had told Billy that so many times, reminded him whenever he showed up with a split lip or bruise. 

"He can't hurt you anymore, doll. So stop letting him by feeling like this is your fault, " he whispered as he leaned forward and took your hand in his. 

You slowly looked up to Billy before you let the photo in your hand slip from your grasp and to the floor. Billy gently took your face in his hands and leaned his forehead to yours. "You're gonna be okay."

__ __ 

Billy sat out on his surfboard with his chin resting on your shoulder as you were between his legs, straddling the board in front of him. You both stared out at the setting sun with a content feeling, happy to have each other again. Billy had gotten you to go to therapy and even went with you a few times. It had taken almost a year but you had accepted your past and moved on. 

"Billy?" You said, finally breaking the peaceful silence. You tilted your head back, glancing over your shoulder at him. He smiled in an almost pleasantly dazed way and hummed a response before kissing the skin on your shoulder where his chin had been. "Thank you for coming home." 

"My home is wherever you are, baby," he responded quietly, making you smile sweetly at him. He leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before wrapping his arms around your waist and returning his chin to your shoulder. You leaned your head against his and sighed contently as the sun sank beneath the distant waves.

__ __

Tag List: @buckysjuicyplums @mattysheelies @fucktgisshitok  @angelophany @oriiel @queenbbarnes @thatpunkmaximoff @lordofthenerds97

[shadedrose01]

Just Breathe

Ship: none, platonic (paternal) relationship between Harley Keener and Tony Stark

Summary: Harley has a panic attack, Tony helps

Tags: none (not posted on ao3)

Author note: this was a story that I originally wrote for febufluff day 7, "hugs" before realizing that it neither had hugs, nor was it very fluffy, like at all. I didnt want to just scrap it, so I figured I'd post it here. I am going to write another story for day 7 of febufluff, but it'll just come out a bit later 🤷‍♀️🤣

TRIGGER WARNING: This story is all about Harley having a panic attack due to his bullies finding out he is gay, and threatening to tell his school about it (aka being homophobic assholes). I describe the panic attack in detail, so if that's not your speed, DO NOT READ. Be safe, please, I love you all ❤

--

Click, click, click-

Harley clicks his pen unconsciously, his leg bunching up and down repeatedly, staring down at his paper with squinted eyes, hoping, begging his mind to focus on the homework.

Click, click, click-

Its math homework, Harley is good at math, he has always been good at math, so why cant he just focus? Why cant he just finish the problem?

Click, click, click-

The question muddles in front of him again, and Harley begs himself not to think about it, tries his hardest to focus, focus, focus! but his cries go unheard, the memory swarming into the forefront of his thoughts once more.

The note on his desk, telling him to be behind the school after class. The walk there, where Harley's curiosity had beat out his fear (such a stupid decision, he should have just left, should have just gone home-). The anticipation, leaning against the old, dirty brick, just waiting, waiting, watching and waiting. The group that had shown up, a bunch of bullies from his school, had surrounded him, pushed him up against that very same brick and held him there like pray, grins smug and eyes glistening, eyes knowing.

They knew his secret, they said, his secret that he was trying to hide for days, for months, for forever, trying to bury as deep into himself as he possibly could. Had said that they had caught him a few days, at the movies, with a kid from out of town, a boy from out of town. Had said that they saw them kiss, had said that they knew, knew who he really was, what he really was, had called him vulgar words, names and curses and swears, had beat him into the ground then and there, and walked away laughing.

They told him that they were telling the entire school. They were going to tell the school about his- his feelings, his sexuality, and- and everybody would hate him, hate his guts for something he couldn't control, can't control, had tried to control for so long, for so so long, and then- then the school was going to tell his mother, and his mother would hate him too, abandon him just like his father had, and Abbie would hate him, leave him too. He'd be all alone, all alone and nobody would care about him, nobody would miss him, nobody would want him and- and-

And he can't breathe.

Oh god, he can't breathe.

Harley tries to take a deep breath in, but all he can manage is a shallow gasp, his lungs feeling as if two vice grips are squeezing them on the highest setting, not allowing them to expand and contract, not allowing air to flow freely, not allowing him to breathe. He keeps trying, his faint gasps getting louder and louder, harder and harder to do, his heart beat drumming in his ears, fast and quick, and he's shaking, shaking like a leaf, and he cant stop, cant breath, his chest aches, his heart aches and oh god, he's dying, he's dying, he's going to die out here, in his garage, all by himself, all alone, his mother working and his sister with her friends, all alone, all alone-

He needs to call someone. He needs to- to-

Harley scrambles for his phone, placed beside the sheets of paper that are slowly blurring together as tears fill his eyes, and he tries multiple times to open it, failing, failing, failing every time, -nobody's going to know, he's dying, he can't- until finally, finally it opens, and he clicks on his contacts list, scrolls to the M's, and presses call, holding it up to his ear.

His other hand as made its way to his chest, having a death grip on his shirt as his chest continues to get tighter and tighter, the air feeling thicker and thicker, the room blurring and spinning and he wont make it, he wont make it until-

"Harley? Harley, I need you to breathe, kid." Its faint, Tony's staticky voice barely heard over the blood rushing in his ears, but it's there, and Harley clings to it like a lifeline (it is, it is a lifeline, his only chance at surviving-).

"I- I dont- I cant-" Harley wheezes, curling into himself, resting his head in between his knees and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping it'll help his rapidly increasing dizziness, hoping it'll stop the room from spinning so damn much, hoping it'll stop his world from collapsing on top of him like it is right now, god, please, have mercy-

Tony breaks through the white noise again, his tone softer than Harleys ever heard it, but strong, urgent. "You can, kid. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you can. You gotta try for me, okay?"

Harley just shakes his head, even though he knows Tony cant see it, his body trembling again as adrenaline rushes through his veins. "I'm dying, I'm- I- oh god I'm dying-"

"You aren't dying, Harls, I promise you, you aren't. You're having a panic attack." Harley doesnt respond to that, just sobbing in between his wheezing because he's dying, he knows he is, he can feel it, he's- "Kid, you're going to pass out if you don't breathe, so I need you to listen to me okay? I want you to breathe in for 4 seconds, hold it for 7 and then breath out for 8, you think you can do that for me?"

Harley doesnt, he doesnt think he can do it, but hes gotta- he's gotta try something, anything, he can't just go down without a fight, without giving it a shot. "O-O-O-Okay."

"Okay, follow me, okay? Inhale, one, two three, four-" He hears Tony take a deep breath, and tries to as well, shuttering with a sob as his lungs refuse to expand, refuse to listen, stopping his inhale after two, "Its okay, kiddo, you're doing good, now hold it for me, seven seconds, you got this." Harley tries again, holding his breath even as his body spasms, screaming at him to keep breathing, keep breathing, there isn't enough air, need more air, need- "and release for eight seconds," The air forces it's way out of Harleys lung in one loud push, and he immediately gasps again as soon as his lungs are empty. He expects Tony to be mad at him (he'll be mad at him, hate him just like his mom will, the school will-) , but the older man just keeps reassuring him gently, calmly, soothing Harleys worries. "There you go, bud, see? You got this, you can do this. Let's do that a few more times now, okay?"

They repeat the motion over and over again, and to Harleys surprise, after a while, the inhales start to get easier, his lungs start to open up again, relaxing and stretching again, and his heart starts to slow back to it's normal rate. He's still shaking, but its mostly aftershocks now, the last bits of the adrenaline rush draining out of his body. But now that he's calming down and he doesnt feel like he's dying, he can feel the shame and the horror start to creep it's way in, embarassment flushing his cheeks. "I-Im sorry." He whispers out shakily, running his free hand through his hand before holding it tightly, yanking at it slightly.

"Don't apologize for this, Harley, please." The man sounds tired, in more of a physically/mentally exhausted kind of way over an 'I'm annoyed and hate you' kind of way. Harley still feels a tinge of guilt though. "Are you feeling better now?"

He swallows, his throat dry and sore from heaving in and out breaths. "Yeah, yeah I think so. Thanks."

Theres a pause, a moment of awkward, long and uncomfortable silence that Harley isnt sure how to break, isn't sure he really wants know, until the question he was anxiously dreading breaks it anyways. "Kid..." Tony sighs quietly, "I know we dont normally... do this, the whole having emotional talks about our problems thing, but-" he pauses again, thinking his words through. "...do you want to talk about it?"

Harley grits his teeth, before deflecting. "Talk about what?"

"Harley." The man's tone turns stern, but still soft, still gentle, like Harley's a fragile ceramic plate placed at the end of a shelve, one from blow of wind away from falling and shattering. Then, randomly, he speaks up again, his voice sounding more defeated, resigned, "Look, bud, I cant force you to say anything, but I know from experience that talking about it can help sometimes."

Harley sighs, knowing he isn't going to get out of this, no matter how much he wants to (or, how much he thinks he wants to, even if theres some small part in the back of his brain calling out to him, longing for him to tell Tony everything, no matter the inevitable consequences-). He just shrugs, scuff his foot against the cement ground of his garage, mumbling out. "I don't know what to say, where to start..."

"That's okay. Just say something. Starting is always the hardest part."

Harley snorts, trying to lighten the mood one last time. "Since when did you become a therapist?"

"Since I started going to one." Tony deadpans, a tiny light of amusement ringing in his tone before it disappears again, back to serious. "You can tell me anything, Harley. No judgement, okay, maybe a little bit of judgement depending, but no everlasting grudges, I promise."

Harley chuckles lightly, his back of his eyes burning suddenly, randomly, a flash of warmth flowing through him. Because even with all of his self deprecating thoughts, even with all his anxiety, the one thing Harley knows about Tony Stark is that he always keeps his promises, no matter what it costs to do so.

And so, Harley tells him. Tells him his truth, shakily, nervously, painstakingly slow and fearful, only to be told instantly that it's okay, that he is okay, that it doesn't change anything. Tells him about the boys at his school, about their attack, about their plans with a few split tears and a sob or two. Tells him about how afraid he really is, about how he doesnt know how anyone will react, if his friends will leave him or not, if his family will still love him after it all. And Tony reassures him the whole time, backs him up through it all, telling him it'll all be okay, that even if the school finds out and it becomes a big deal, that it'll blow over in a few weeks, and if it doesnt, that high school is just the first part and a small portion of a longer, bigger life. Telling him that if his friends leave, that they arent truly his friends, and that he knows that his mom, his sister will love him no matter what. "Theres only a few things I know about Macy Keener, but I do know for a fact that she loves her son to death, and couldnt even imagine her life without him in it." (That caused a few more tears to be shed).

And after it's all said and done, the call ended and "The Mechanic" is shining back at him in big white letters, Harley starts back to work on his math assignment with a grin on his face, feeling lighter, better than he has in a long time.

[theycallmequeenie]

Lexie And Happy

Part Four

Master List

Tig held his niece and did his best to calm her, as he did he felt her nod her head to answer his question. She still loved Happy and she always would. Even after all the thing she and Happy had dealt with over the years.

“That answer is Always, Uncle Tig. I tried to move on but there was no moving on. I couldn’t, my heart wouldn’t let me.” She spoke with her back to the clubhouse, not knowing Happy was within earshot. Wiping her eyes she forced a small smile and walked back to the garage to get back to work on the three cars that were waiting.

Happy waited until after she had walked away before approaching Tig. He wasn’t sure how to process what he had just heard, with a puzzled look on his face he looked to Tig asking if he had heard that right. Tig nodded, telling him that he had and sighed. Happy rubbed his face and made eye contact with his brother, “I gave her the ring back, Tig. I think I’m just going to head home and get cleaned up and some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tig nodded and patted him on the back, watching as he went to his bike firing it up and speeding out of the lot. Tig also caught his niece watching as Happy left, he knew those two had to get back together, somehow.

The day flew by and they finished up all three vehicles that were there for repairs calling three very surprised owner to inform them that their cars were ready for pickup days ahead of schedule. Tig had called Venus to tell her he wanted to take her out for a date night, that way Lexie and Sunnie had some time to themselves to adjust to their new surroundings and calling Happy to tell him she would be by herself tonight that he would appreciate it if he were to stop in and check on Lex and the dog. He knew what would happen by the time he and Venus got home tonight he wasn’t quite okay with it but he wasn’t angry with the idea of it either. If there was such a thing as couples who were meant to be those two would definitely classify as that. All the crap they had went through over the course of things would destroy weaker souls but not those two. They persevered through it all. Yes that car accident did a good bit of damage to Lexie’s psyche but it never damaged either of those two’s love for each other.

As Tig and Lex returned to his home for the evening he told her that he and Venus were going out for the night and she and Sunnie would have the place to themselves. Jokingly telling her to behave herself and no wild parties which had them both laughing. Venus met them in the kitchen almost ready to go out and offered up a smile to Lexie who simply waved in return. Lexie kissed Tig on the cheek thanking him again for letting her and her dog stay there until she was able to find a place of her own and said she was going to get the grime of the day off of her. Wishing them well she went to the guest bathroom and started a shower.

Lexie wasn’t known to talk long showers but today was a rare exception. She enjoyed every second standing under the hot water letting the feeling of the water pounding on her muscles relax her. She never heard the sound of someone breaking into the house and shutting Sunshine in a closet in one of the other rooms.

The man that broke into Tig’s house wore no identifying clothing but appeared to be a member of the Mayans MC. He roamed around the house ransacking the place and waiting for the young woman that he had seen enter the home. He had been briefed that she was Happy’s old lady and that she was to be kidnapped at all costs.

Lex had gotten out of the shower still none the wiser to the intruder got out of the shower and put on an old SAMCRO tee and a pair of plain black pajama pants. As she left the bathroom she was checking her phone and saw a text from Happy saying that he was on his way over. She hummed to herself knowing Tig had to be the one to give him her number. Sighing she made her way to her room looking for Sunnie trying to figure out why she would be hiding from her and that’s when she realized there was someone else in the house. Lex instinctively screamed when she saw the intruder and ran for her uncle’s room because she knew he kept a gun in the nightstand on his side of the bed. But she was tackled to the floor before she could make it to the door.

She started to fight the moment she hit the floor, punching, biting, kicking, and scratching. She was not going without one hell of a fight. She knew Happy was on his way and she was praying he got there soon, but in the mean time she was going to fight for as long as she could. As she was fighting, the intruder was tried to tear her shirt off of her and managed to get in a solid punch to her face. As Lexie her the sound of ripping fabric she started fighting harder, screaming for help as loud as she could trying to get anyone’s attention.

During the struggle at the man was trying to strip her of her clothes a familiar roar of a Harley could be faintly heard which made Lexie, who was starting to tire, yell to Happy for help.

Happy parked his bike and noticed the front door open and started running looking for Lex. Then he heard her screaming for help, this prompted him to draw his own gun and run toward the sound of her panicked voice. As he got to her the intruder had managed to tear away the clothes she had on and had her pinned to the floor. He instantly attacked the man beating him senseless allowing Lexie to get away from the man who was attacking her and get her uncle’s gun.  

After grabbing the nearest blanket to cover herself she grabbed the gun and quickly ran back out to the hallway, took aim, and fired a round into the unknown man’s leg just below the kneecap. This made Happy and the Man cease their blow for blow battle. Happy Looked at Lexie and gave her a proud grin while the man writhed on the floor screaming in pain.

Lexie hung her head and asked Happy, “Can you handle that while I go replace my clothes and find my dog?”

Happy’s eyes went wide, nodding to Lexie before scowling down at the unknown Mayan making sure to give him a good swift kick in the knee that had been shot. Grumbling lowly, “That’s for the dig. You better pray you didn’t hurt her either, asshole.” And then proceeded to put his boot on the guys throat and called Tig first then Chibs to let them know what had happened.

Lexie decided to throw a soft pastel blue maxi dress on just to be quick so that she could look for Sunshine. She was worried for her fur baby. She was going room to room looking for her calling out her name and listening for any canine like sounds in response. She wasn’t hearing any and was starting to panic. As she continued to search the rooms she could feel her anxiety start to spike and that was the last thing she wanted Happy to see. Thankfully she was able to find Sunnie in the next to last room she hadn’t checked. She was so thankful that Sunnie wasn’t hurt and just sat on the floor and held her dog.

At this time the other two Sons that Happy had called arrived at the house along with Venus, all Lexie heard was a thick Scottish brogue screaming “What the hell happened here?!” Unfortunately what Lexie didn’t hear was Tig seeing Lexie’s shredded clothes on the floor in the middle of his hallway. As soon as Tig laid eyes on the now scraps of fabric he jumped on the guy and started punching him in the face over and over again. Happy had to physically remove him to keep him from killing the Mayan.  Happy was repeating, “She’s okay Tig. She’s in another room with her dog.” in Tig’s ear. Chibs had said something about calling Althea before being told no by the other three.

This prompted Lexie to poke her head out of the room she ended up in and frown softly, “Please no more people knowing about this. It’s bad enough Happy called Telford.” Which got her a glare from Chibs and an eye roll from he uncle as he rushed to her.

“Did he…” Before Tig could finish Lexie shook her head and hugged him. “Oh thank god,” Was all that was her as he wrapped her up in his arms and held her to him.very thankful that he helped raise a fighter.

Lexie playfully started tapping on his shoulder mumbling that she needed air and started explaining what had happened and just how thankful she was for Happy’s timing. She walked over to Happy and whispers something in his ear that makes him smile and sort of puff his chest out then kisses him on the cheek thanking him before looking to Venus and speaking to her, “ Well, Auntie V, want to help me get patched up? I’m fairly certain I’m going to have a shiner in the morning….”

To Be Continued…

Part Six

[atc74]

Chuck, Your Brother and Me

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death (this is about a Winchester...) Stubborn Dean, fluffy finish

Summary:  After the return of Chuck and the drama that ensued, Y/N tries to convince Dean that no one will love him more than she does.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1556

Beta’d by: @hannahindie

A/N: I just love the idea of the reader loving Dean so completely. Set after S11E20 where Chuck reveals himself to the Winchester, but before Amara returns Mary to Earth and her sons. Based off the Florida Georgia Line song “God, Your Mama and Me” but I loved the idea of making it about Dean, not the reader. 

Dean stormed down the hall. He had had enough of Chuck’s bullshit excuses. Where was He when the world needed him? When they needed him? They had both been praying to Him once they learned Amara’s true identity, begging Him to come stop her; to save humanity.

Y/N waited, knowing Dean would need some time to cool down. She had watched the entire interaction with Chuck and the Winchesters. She understood why He had disappeared. She didn’t agree with it, no, but she understood. Just because he was God, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel the need to explore himself and cut the proverbial apron strings.

She had been through so much with the Winchesters after years of hunting with them. Sam was her best friend, her rock. Dean, well, her relationship with Dean was complicated. She had confessed her love to him when he returned from Purgatory, having lived a half life without him for a year. It almost broke her, being on her own. Sam had taken off to parts unknown. Bobby was dead. Everyone she loved had left or died. She was truly alone. She had retreated to Whitefish, Montana and hermited herself in Rufus’ old hunting cabin for most of that year. She had looked for Dean. She had reached out to witches, a shaman, a hoodoo priestess, everyone she could think of that could aide her in finding him. When that all failed, she closed in on herself.

Imagine her surprise when Dean showed up at the cabin. She was so grateful for his safe return that she admitted her feelings. But, Dean being Dean, couldn’t understand why someone would love him the way she said did. It took months of chipping away at the wall, but he had finally started to see the truth, feel the love she showed him, and most importantly, believe that he deserved to be loved.

She truly believed that Chuck felt he had done the right thing and he came back when they needed him, not before. She could feel the love he held inside him for the Winchesters, even for herself. It would take some convincing for her help Dean see it as well.

She quietly slipped from the War Room and through the winding halls looking for Dean. If he wanted to be alone, she would leave him be, but knowing the man for a decade, she knew when he needed comfort, too, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. It wasn’t until she reached the garage that she found him. He was sitting beside the workbench, a rag in his hands and his head down.

Dean lifted his head at the sound of her footfalls as she approached him. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you. What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, flipping over an empty bucket, taking a seat next to him.

“Thinking,” he shrugged. She could still see the fresh tear tracks on his face.

“I know how you’re feeling Dean. I know it’s unfair to the world what He did. But He’s here now, when we need Him,” she took his hand gently in hers, pulling it into her lap. “That’s what counts, right?”

“It just seems like too little, too late, you know?” he sniffed, turning his head to look at her. “Can he even stop Amara?”

“Sometimes, we need to have a little faith, Dean,” she reminded him. She stood, tugging on his hand still held in hers. “Come on, let’s go to bed. Tomorrow is a new day.”

“Yeah, okay,” he relented, following her back through the halls to their room.

They silently readied themselves for bed, Y/N in one of Dean’s old shirts, while Dean stripped to just his boxers. They climbed under the covers and Y/N turned to face him, each of them laying on their sides.

“You know I love you, right?” she asked, running her hand over his scruff, stopping to hold his face in her hand.

“Yeah, I know, Sweetheart. I love you, too,” he whispered in the darkness, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“And your brother,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, Sammy, too. Till the wheels fall off,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face.

“Chuck loves you as well, Dean. You know that, too, right?” she coaxed. “He may not know how to show it, but he’s here and I know.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s know there was always this grand plan for us, for me. Like when Cas raised me from the pit. I didn’t believe it then and it’s still a little hard to believe now. Why would God, Chuck, give a crap about us?” He pointed out.

“Because you’re good people. You are a good person Dean. You love with all your heart. You are loyal and caring and generous. You do things no one else would even think about doing,” she listed all the reasons why. “And because, you know it’s the right thing to do.”

“But it doesn’t make up fo the all the bad I’ve done,” Dean sighed, averting his eyes from hers.

“The bad we’ve done, Dean. Sometimes we have to do that bad things, so we can do the good things. You, me, Sam...we’ve all done it. And we’ve done it together. We’re still here and still doing the good things,” she stated.

“I don’t think it’s that simple. It’s like you. Why do you love me?” Dean propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her.

“For ten years, you have been my friend, my comfort, my safe place. It never occurred to me how much I needed you until you were gone. Twice. You’ve died, gone to Hell, disappeared for a year in Purgatory, but I was here, holding out hope, though I could barely keep myself together. I could never admit it to myself, let alone you. But now that I have you, my love is never gonna run dry, never gonna come up empty. Now until the day I die, unconditionally, you know I'm always gonna be here for you,” she preached to him.

“You didn’t answer the question, Y/N,” he pointed out.

“Fine, you’re right. Every fight, every case, every monster, you put us first. You are fiercely loyal, to a fault sometimes. You strive to see the good in people. And yes, I did tell you all this, but I will happily tell you again and again until you believe me. You love with everything you are. Family is most the important thing to you. And you fight for what you believe in,” she continued.

“Your heart, your mind… both are big and beautiful and I am in constant awe of you and the things you can accomplish when you put your mind to it. My heart was lost without you, Dean. I was lost without you. I will be here for you, no matter what. I will be there praying with you every mile down any dead end road. You can tell me every secret that you been keeping, I'll hold it, lock and key. I’ll stay up with you all night, holding you all night, I’ll never leave. You better believe my love is never gonna run dry, never gonna come up empty. I promise you now until the day I die, unconditionally,” her promises were her vow to him there in the darkness.

“That is, just wow, I’m going to have to steal that,” he smiled.

“Steal it? For what?” she nuzzled close to him.

“For when I ask you to marry me,” he confessed. “We’ve talked about it, I know. And I always wanted to, but you always said you didn’t need a ring or a a ceremony to prove our love. But that, was some pretty powerful stuff, Sweetheart.”

“Love can be pretty powerful, if we let it,” she told him. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever loved me the way you do, Y/N,” Dean turned serious. “No one in my life has made me feel the way you do.”

“No one is ever gonna love you more than Chuck, your brother and me, Dean,” she kissed the tip of his nose. “I’ll always be by your side. With every step you take, I'll be as sure as your shadow. With every move you make, you know I'm part of you wherever you go.”

Dean threw the covers back and got out of bed. He threw his robe and slippers on and headed for the door.

“Babe? Where are you going?” she stared at him from her spot on the bed.

“You just gonna lay there? Let’s go ask Chuck to marry us!” he said, opening the door.

“Right now?” she was shocked that he was doing this now.

“No, not right now, we’re not dressed! But soon. When we take down Amara, and we will, I want you by my side, as my wife,” he professed.

“Who knew Dean Winchester was such a romantic sap?” she sassed, pulling on her own robe.

“You did. And you were the one that finally got through to me, even if it took a decade. I don’t want to wait any longer,” he took her hand and together they went on their search for Chuck.

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[tilltheendwilliwrite]

The Bodyguard

Chapter Eight

Master List  |  Bucky Barnes Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC  |  Word Count: 6649 Warnings: language, angst, dark themes - discussion of sexual assault

Penny was in the middle of washing the dishes after dinner when the house phone rang. She exchanged a look with Bucky, knowing it would be security announcing a visitor. If it were Steve, he would just come up, and no one else was scheduled to visit.

At least tonight she’d gotten the chance to eat the spaghetti before being interrupted. They’d managed to have an enjoyable dinner in which they’d discussed a few of her projects in greater detail without snapping, snarling, or yelling at each other.

She was pleasantly full. In fact, she’d eaten more today than she usually did in three days. Barnes was obsessed with stuffing food in her face and with cutting back her caffeine intake. She’d reached for her fifth cup of coffee when they’d returned from the lab, only to be handed a cup of tea instead. As she’d been on the phone with the Head of Oncology at Johns Hopkins, she hadn’t the ability to bitch Barnes out, ending up drinking the surprisingly tasty tea.

By six he’d been dragging her to her feet, refusing to let her stay longer her first day back, and hustled her out the door, down the elevator, and into the car even as she protested she still had work to do. He’d ignored her, and by the time they got to the parking garage beneath her apartment, Penny had been dozing off in the back seat. 

When Bucky had smirked at her standing in the open car door, Penny had just rolled her eyes and shooed him out of the way, deciding a bath was on the docket for tonight after dinner. She hadn’t realized he’d saved the pasta from the night before, but he’d muttered about waste not want not something she remembered his mother saying, and gone to heat them both plates while she’d changed out of her work clothes.

Bucky’s suit jacket hung on the back of one of the bar stools along with his shoulder harness. He hadn’t bothered to change himself yet, though his sleeves were rolled to the elbows as he’d been helping dry the dishes. When he answered the house phone, it was with a blunt, “Yes?”

Penny watched his face harden and pulled the plug on the sink. She’d put on leggings and a tank top, adding thick socks and a warm wool cardigan she wrapped tighter around herself.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what he’s insisting,” Bucky growled. “The answer is no.”

“Bucky?” she murmured, stepping closer. He mouthed the words, call your lawyer, and caused her heart to kick erratically when she scrambled for her phone.

“Tell Detective McGilvery he can cool his heels in the lobby until Miss Rogers lawyer arrives and ride up with her.” He hung up before the guard could respond and looked pointedly at Penny.

“Tamara? I’m sorry to call you so late, but the Detective from earlier is in my lobby. Alright, I’ll see you soon.” Penny hung up and placed her phone on the island before gripping her elbows. “What do we tell him?”

Bucky moved around the counter to stand before her and gently rub her upper arms. “The truth. You went down to get in your car. It blew up, and in the process of getting to your panic room to wait for Steve, the guard shot at you, and the men were already waiting when you got upstairs.”

“And if he asks about why?”

“You tell the truth. You don’t know why,” Bucky said, drawing her in for a hug. “I’m right here, Pen. If he gets out of line, I’ll kick his ass out of here.”

She leaned into him, finding his warmth so comforting, and wrapped her arms around his waist. It was ridiculously easy to accept his help. It was even easier to rest her forehead against his throat and breathe his scent, something musky with a hint of citrus. Bucky’s hand gently stroked her hair, his fingers tangling and carding, working through the loose curls she’d released from her ponytail earlier.

“Maybe it’s weird, but I liked having you around today,” she admitted.

“It was… enlightening,” Bucky chuckled. “You’re so damn smart, Pen. I can see why Steve brags so much.”

Penny lifted her head and smirked up at him. “I thought you didn’t pay attention?”

Something flared to life in his eyes, and his hand closed in her hair. “Some things stuck,” he murmured.

His metal hand ever so gently cupped her cheek. His thumb swept over her lip and paused in the center. He tugged it down, rubbing a little. It made Penny’s heart skip and the breath catch in her lungs. His gaze jumped from her lips to her eyes, and Penny could feel her cheeks warm at his look of appreciation.

“You sure grew up pretty, Pen,” he said softly. “One gorgeous dame.”

You sure grew up pretty… The words sent a shiver of memory through her which seemed to echo in her head. Terror streaked down her spine, and she ripped herself away from Bucky, her hand flying to her mouth as bile rose up her throat when she almost lost the dinner she’d just eaten.

“Penny?” Bucky’s voice rose with concern. “Baby what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she croaked. When he tried to touch her, she skittered out from under his hands. “Don’t touch me!”

“Penny.” Bucky held his hands up and out, not touching her but not allowing her to move away from where he cornered her against the kitchen island. “I’m not going to hurt you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

“Pen,” he murmured, sliding closer. “It does matter.”

It couldn’t. She’d buried the memories of that time so deep she’d thought she’d gotten rid of them. Now, with a single simple utterance, they were pounding at her, wanting out, shaking the very foundations of everything she’d done to make herself immune to them. “I can’t. I can’t, Bucky. Don’t make me do it,” she whimpered, his face seeming to rise out of the dark in her mind.

Penny squeezed her eyes tightly closed, fighting with every ounce of her being to shut it out. To shut him out. Bucky’s arms wrapped around her and Penny cried out, jerking against him when he wouldn’t let go.

***

“It’s okay, Pen. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I swear. Just breathe, baby. You’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t.”

She went limp, unable to fight him and the memories at the same time. When Bucky lifted her up, she wrapped herself around him like a snake and held on until he deposited her on the dark grey sofa in the living room and dragged the white throw from the back to tuck around her.

He didn't know what the trigger had been, but he knew fear when he saw it. This wasn't from her recent trauma. This was old, deeply buried, and painful. A wound she hid that had festered. Once she was covered beneath the heavy blanket, Bucky gently collected her hands.

“Penny.” He didn't know what to say.

She shook her head. “Don't, James.”

“Look, doll, I won't push,” not yet anyway, “but have you talked to someone about this?”

She sighed and looked away. “It was a long time ago. I thought I'd gotten past it.”

Shame filled her face. Embarrassment followed. Bucky prayed as he hadn't in years that what he suspected was wrong, but he’d seen enough faces of abuse to recognize it. To find it on hers, on Penelope's, broke something inside him.

Nat’s voice whispered in his mind. You weren't the cause, but you made her choice easier.

“My God, Pen. My God,” he whispered, horrified as moments from that night began to click together in his mind.

“Don't. Please, James. Not now,” she whimpered.

He dropped his head to her thigh and breathed through his mouth until the shaking stopped. They were about to have unwelcome guests. Being this out of control could be dangerous.

The light touch of her hand in his hair nearly broke him all over again. “I could really use a stiff drink, Buck,” she said softly.

He lifted his head to look at her. The sad smile shattered his heart. But then she cupped his cheek.

“It’s okay, Buck.”

No, it wasn't, but she was trying to pull herself together, and he rose to stand on weak legs, and stumble his way to the brass and glass cart near the fireplace where he poured three fingers of scotch for her, and an entire tumbler for himself. He drank half of it before returning to her side.

She took the glass but gripped his hand before he could walk away. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“Why shouldn't I?”

“Because none of it was your fault,” she sighed, appearing small and fragile.

He threw the rest of the scotch down his throat relishing the burn which dried the threatening tears but didn't let go of her hand. “Steve doesn't know, does he?”

“No.”

“Does anyone?”

She pressed the tumbler to her cheek. “Becca.”

He ground his teeth together and put the glass down before he broke it. “I'm sorry, Pen.”

“I know.”

She didn't look up but didn't release his hand either. That single point of contact was the only thing keeping him steady in his suddenly upside down world. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Comfort her like he should have all those years ago. Shame made him sick to his stomach for how he'd treated her that night. It rolled in his gut.

He wanted to ask. It was worse not knowing the extent of how badly he’d missed the signs. There he was, jealous, angry, thinking she'd let someone paw at her, only to find out-

He slammed the brakes on that train of thought when the sound of the elevator starting its ascent dinged through the main floor of the apartment.

“We’ve got this,” she assured him, looking a little steadier than she had, though the erratic tripping of her heart concerned him.

“Take deep breaths, Pen,” he murmured, releasing her fingers to stride up the few steps from her sunken living area and cross the floor to wait arms crossed before the elevator.

No wonder she didn't date. She didn't trust men.

When Bucky caught a glimpse of himself in the polished doors, he thrust a hand through his hair and quickly rolled down his sleeves. He had his glove out and on, and a semblance of control returned to his face before the doors opened.

Detective McGilvrey was, according to his record, a good cop. But even good cops on paper could be bad guys. Bucky didn't trust his squeaky clean record.

When the second ding announced the arrival of the elevator, he slipped his right hand to the small of his back and gripped the Glock tucked there.

Tamara burst forth, paused, her eyes darting over him, before stepping around Bucky to head for the living room. It was clear she'd come from some class as her hair was tied up, her clothes were leggings and a tank top over a colourful sports bra beneath a warm coat, and the sky-high heels from earlier were now running shoes.

“Miss Smith,” he nodded to Tamara.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she said, her eyes sharp and face pinched. Evidently, her ride up in the elevator hadn't been a pleasant one with the detective for company.

“McGilvery,” he growled at the man. “Miss Rogers has had a long day. Make it quick and watch yourself our I'll be seeing you out of the building.”

“Why do I feel like, “The fast way,” should be tacked onto that statement,” he muttered, indicating the glass windows and balcony with a jerk of his chin.

A slow smile spread over Bucky's mouth when he stepped out of the way and motioned the man to proceed him, his right hand still gripping his gun. “Take it whatever way you want.”

McGilvery's shoes clicked on the floors, and Bucky smirked when the detective became aware his did not. The man's shoulders tightened and rose an inch before he forced them to relax, but Bucky could see the way the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

“You ex-military?” McGilvery asked.

“When is anyone ever ex-military?” Bucky murmured.

“Marines, two tours in Afghanistan. You?”

“You think I'm stupid, Detective? You know who I am,” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I'm a fan. Never thought I'd come face to face with James Barnes when I went to speak with Miss Rogers.”

“Hoping for Steve?” Bucky asked.

“Miss Romanoff actually.”

Bucky snorted. “The Widow would eat you alive.”

McGilvery shot him a look and a wry smile. “Would you think less of me if that was what I was hoping for?”

A chuckle escaped him. The guy was charismatic when he wanted to be; Bucky would give him that. It wasn't hard to see Penny's blonde head where she was propped in the corner of the couch in her wide open floor plan, and Bucky followed McGilvery into the living room where Tamara had taken a seat beside Penny. Bucky stopped at Penny's side and laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

“Miss Rogers, thank you for seeing me. It's rather difficult to get past all your defences,” McGilvery said, taking a seat across the coffee table from her.

“Not difficult enough,” Penny murmured, sipping from her cup.

“I know you've been through a trying time. I'll make this quick and painless,” McGilvery said with a smile.

Penny shuddered beneath Bucky's hand. “I'd appreciate you getting on with it then, Detective instead of repeating the words my assailant used to see if you can get a reaction.”

“Ask your questions, Detective,” Tamara said sharply.

“Nate, please ladies. No need for formalities. After all, it's not as if Miss Rogers had anything to do with her assault.” He looked straight at Penny.

“Why would I?” Penny snapped.

“Just what are you implying, Detective? That my client hired those people? For what purpose?” Tamara demanded.

“People have done stranger things for publicity, or to cover up something else. After all, you've got that nasty company audit coming up. What better way to push it back then an attack on the owner.”

Penny stiffened. “What?”

McGilvery smirked. “Come now, Miss Rogers. Don't play innocent. Your capital gains and losses are off the charts. And with the rumours you'll be going public in the next year swirling, it was bound to happen that the IRS would be sticking their nose in.”

“Bucky, I need my phone,” she breathed on a rush of air.

Though he didn't like leaving her, it wasn't far from the kitchen, and he could see all the players easily enough. When he returned with it, no one had moved or spoken. Penny took it from him, dialled a preset number, clicked the speaker button, and set it on the coffee table in front of her.

It rang five times before he picked it up. “Penny, dear! How are you?” From the sound of the background noise, the man was partying rather hard.

“Cut the crap, Marcus!” Penny snapped. “Am I being audited?”

Silence, then the background noise faded as a door clicked shut. “Look, Penny…”

“Son of a bitch, Marcus! Why didn't you tell me?” she exploded.

“It was your first day back!” he whined.

“Marcus, don’t! From the sounds of it, this isn't something you just found out about! Why didn't you tell me before?”

“It's fine, Penny. I've got it under control.”

“You'd better,” she snarled and hung up, an unholy fire blazing in her eyes. “As you can see, Detective, I have only just been made aware of this. And as my brother has already stated, the attack on me had to do with getting back at him.”

“With an inside twist,” McGilvery said. “After all, your building has more security than most in the city. They had to have help getting in.”

“The new higher security guard was the source of that, Detective, as you should also know,” Tamara snapped. “My client had nothing to do with what's happened.”

“What were they after, Penelope? What were they looking for in your office?” McGilvery pressed, leaning forward.

“I don't know!” Penny said, slamming her glass down on the coffee table.

“This interview is over,” Bucky stated coldly, motion for McGilvery to stand up.

“This had nothing to do with your brother, did it? We can't protect you if you don't coopera-"

McGilvery never got to finish his sentence when Bucky wrapped his gloved hand around the man's throat, thumb and forefinger squeezing his jawbone hard enough to make it clear Bucky could and would break it to shut him up, and lifted the large man with minimal effort to his feet.

“I said you're done. Time to go.” He jerked the detective around and gave him a shove which sent him stumbling toward the stairs.

“I could have you arrested for assaulting an officer!” McGilvery snarled.

“You could try,” Bucky smiled darkly. “But then, I outrank you, Detective. So you go ahead. Let's see what happens.”

McGilvery ground his teeth together and stormed for the elevator. When the doors opened, Bucky reached around and pounded the button for the lobby.

“This isn't over,” Nate stated as the doors began to close.

Bucky caught them before they could. “You just came into Penelope Rogers home and harassed her. Yeah, Detective, it is. And when I explain this fucking shit show to her brother and just how upset she was by it, boy, you'll be lucky to keep your badge.” Bucky let the doors go on McGilvery's pale face.

Penny was speaking quietly with Tamara when he returned. “Did you know?”

“Penny, I didn't. I swear. I don't know why he didn't contact legal as soon as the notice arrived.” Tamara fidgeted with her shirt. “Marcus has been… distant lately.”

“Distant?” Penny frowned. “How?”

“Whispered conversations. Late night texts. He disappears for hours and won't tell me where he's gone. Penny, I know I'm not exactly an attentive girlfriend being busy with my firm, but I thought… we were happy. Now? I don't know,” she shrugged.

“Oh, Tam.” Penny threw her arms around the woman. “I'm so sorry. I haven't exactly been the best friend these last few years, have I?”

“We’re all busy now, but I do miss Friday night drinks,” Tamara sighed, hugging her back.

“We’re going to try harder,” Penny announced.

“I'm in!” Tamara laughed. “Ugh, but not tonight. I smell like spin class.”

Penny’s nose wrinkled. “Maybe a little.”

“Wow,” Tamara smirked. “Kick a girl when she's down. And in front of hot bodyguard. Some friend you are.”

A snort left Penny when she turned to look at Bucky, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “He's not that hot. I've seen better.”

“Your pretty boy brother doesn't count,” Bucky groused, causing both women to laugh.

***

Later, after Tamara and Penny had spent another hour visiting and regaling Bucky with stories of their university adventures, he showed Tamara to the elevator.

“Sergeant?” she said softly, her hand hovering over the button for the lobby. “Take care of her. She acts tough, but she's more fragile than people know.”

“She's stronger than you think, Miss Smith.”

“Even strong people can break under this kind of stress. She's terrible at needing people. I think she's going to need you, and not just for protection.”

Tamara’s dark eyes locked with his as the elevator doors closed. Something in them warned him to heed her request.

Bucky turned around to find the living room empty and sighed, wondering if Penny had gone to bed. He had questions. Lots of questions. Was he ever going to get answers? Then the light clicked on in her office, and he headed down the hall.

Penny was talking to her AI when he arrived in the doorway. “Friday, you remember those numbers you said were funky in the last round of financials Marcus sent us?”

“Of course, Penny.”

“It’s time to take a closer look,” she all but growled. “Full scan. In-depth. Dig deep, girl.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Friday murmured.

“How can I help?” Bucky asked, striding into the room.

“Coffee?” she said, glancing his way.

“You won’t sleep tonight,” he murmured.

“I won’t be sleeping anyway.�� She stood to her full height, the look on her face the bone-chilling one of the Ice Queen. “The only reason I can think of for him not telling me about this when it happened? Marcus has been cooking my books. My books! Dammit!” She brought her fist down on the desk hard enough it had to hurt.

“Pen, if he has you’ll find it,” he said, striding forward to collect her hands before she could do herself further damage.

“Why, though?” she asked, suddenly sounding lost and confused along with angry. “He’s paid better than anyone else on staff. The man makes seven figures a year! There’s no reason to steal from me. And these rumours about going public? That’s the second time I’ve heard it today! What the hell is going on in my company?”

“Baby,” Bucky murmured, releasing her hands to frame her face. The hurt in her eyes gutted him. “People steal for any number of reasons, but if he was embezzling from your company, and he thought killing you would give him control and get the government off his back, allowing him the time to take the company public and replace the funds he’d stolen… Penny, that’s motive.”

She inhaled sharply.

“Now,” he murmured, gently massaging the tight muscles of her neck. “You run the numbers. I’m going to work a deep dive into Marcus’s background. I already skimmed the surface today, but I’ll look deeper and see what I can find.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and exhaled hard. Her shoulders slumped right before her forehead landed on his chest. “I hate all of this.”

“I know, Pen. I know,” Bucky murmured, hugging her carefully. “I’ll make the coffee.” He patted her back and headed for the kitchen.

***

Hours later, Bucky had a sick feeling in his stomach when he set his tablet down and looked at Penny dozing off at her desk. He had more questions then he did answers, but one thing had become glaringly apparent.

Taft had ties to Hydra.

Penny’s eyes closed and stayed that way. Her breathing deepened, and Bucky stood slowly to his feet. He may have made the coffee, but he hadn’t promised to make it caffeinated. He preferred tea anyway. Too many cups of coffee and he was jittering, on edge, and surly. Tea had a much more soothing effect and didn’t make him jumpy.

“Friday,” he murmured, still watching Penny.

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“I’m still compiling the data,” she said.

“Guess.”

She was quiet for a moment before a sound like a sigh registered. “I have looked at the last five years of financials from Mr. Taft. All five years show discrepancies. The information Penny has been given does not correlate with what has been coming in and going out from the different departments. I have also found two departments which do not exist. One has money being syphoned into it. The other has money going out.”

“Are you saying someone is washing their money through Penny’s company?”

“It appears so,” Friday murmured. “But the money going out is higher than what is coming in. So far, thirty million is missing.”

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky hissed.

“And I am not yet finished. Penny has had this company for ten years. If Taft has been doing this since the beginning, it will be higher.”

Bucky scrubbed his hand over his face. “Fuck. Can you follow the money? See where it is going?”

“I already have. It is routed many times into offshore accounts, and while I am talented, I am not Jarvis. I do not have the ability to slip past their firewalls to see where it has gone.”

“You’re saying Stark’s AI could get us all the way to the end point?”

“It is highly probable,” she agreed.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and made the call, unsurprised when Stark answered the phone at three in the morning.

“Tinman, what do you want? It better not be that arm. It was perfect when you left.”

Bucky snorted at that after what Penny had to say about it earlier. “Hardly, Stark. I need your AI.”

Tony remained silent for a moment before muttering, “He’s already in the vehicle. What more could you need?”

“Friday says Jarvis can do what she can’t. I need your AI to follow the money.”

“Money?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, money. And before you ask, no, I won’t tell you what money. Let’s just say it has to do with Penny and why she was attacked. Can I borrow him or not?”

“Barnes, Jarvis isn’t I toy I can lend you, you can hand back when you’re done. Once he’s in the system, he’s in. You can’t limit what he does and what he knows.”

“Friday?” Bucky murmured. “Thoughts?”

“Perhaps… Jarvis could teach me what I need to know to be of better assistance to Penny? I would appreciate the company,” she said softly.

“Who the hell is Friday?” Stark asked.

“Penny’s Jarvis,” Bucky muttered. “Do it.”

“I’ll email you a link. Open it and set your phone on Penelope’s desk.”

Stark hung up, and a second later Bucky’s phone chimed with the email. “You sure about this, Friday?”

“No, but I need the assistance,” she admitted.

Bucky took a deep breath, shot a glance at Penny, and blew it out. “She’s gonna skin me, I just know it.” Still, he tapped the link and laid his phone on her desk before moving to her side and lifting her from her chair.

She mumbled something unintelligible and curled into him trustingly. Bucky’s heart lurched. Her trust after what he’d learned today was humbling, and while he wanted answers, tonight wasn’t the time to ask for them. But he vowed to be more careful with her.

Striding from the room, Bucky took her up the stairs two at a time. She was too light to his mind, and even at rest, he could hear the strange fluttering of her heart. It didn’t beat as it should but skipped and jumped around. The sound was odd, but he pushed aside for later contemplation.

He took her to her bed and laid her down, gently removing her sweater and socks before covering her with the throw from the foot of her bed. It was a moment of deja vu, but this time he sat on the edge of it and brushed her hair from her cheek. Her face was soft in sleep; her long lashes pillowed on her cheeks. She was beautiful no matter how he looked at her, but now she looked fragile and so very innocent.

Guilt soured his stomach again. “I’m sorry, Pen,” he whispered. “Sorry for not seeing it then. So damn sorry for how I acted. I was a stupid, jealous idiot. I thought… it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should never have done what I did when you were upset.”

She surprised him when she rolled over and looked at him, her blue eyes dark with memories. “I had such a crush on you.”

Bucky looked away, more guilt weighing on him. “I was immature and stupid.”

“I wanted to hate you. I did for a while.”

“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked, his voice breaking.

This time she looked away. Then she sat up, pulled her knees to her chest, and set her chin on them. “Becca and I went to that party. I was feeling pretty good what with being newly seventeen and having finally caught the notice of James Barnes. I think I was living on a virtual high with how giddy spending time with you made me feel,” she smirked a little, then sighed. “Marcy’s parents were out of town, and by the time we got there, the party was huge. Becca was seeing Kevin at the time and ditched me as soon as she found him, but I was used to it. I love her, but the girl was boy crazy. I went and got a drink and hung out with some other friends, then…” she hesitated, her breath catching, “this guy came up and started talking to me.”

“Did you know him?” Bucky asked, wondering if she went to school with them.

Penny shook her head. “He was older than me. Some friend of a friend’s brother or something.” She closed her eyes and set her cheek on her knee; her face turned toward him. “He offered to get me a drink.”

His heart dropped into his stomach. “Pen.”

“The stupid thing is, I knew better, but I thought that could never happen to me. I kept thinking that right up until I came to with him on top of me.” Tears filled her voice, hoarse and torn enough to make Bucky’s ache in sympathy. “I didn’t know him, but he knew me. He said, “I sure grew up pretty,” and thanked me for the fuck. I was so horrified and disgusted both with him and myself I threw up over the side of the bed. It freaked him out, and he got off of me, threw out the condom he’d used, got dressed and left. For a moment, all I could think was, “Thank God he used protection.’”

“Penny.” Hearing it was like being stabbed with a knife to the heart over and over.

“I tore my shirt getting dressed I was in such a hurry to get the hell out of there, but I could taste him in my mouth.” She gave a silent gasp, tears escaping past her closed lids. “I don’t even know what he did. I hurt... everywhere, but he’d been in my mouth…”

Bucky wanted to reach out and hold her but was afraid to touch her until she groped for his hand.

“So I stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a can of beer, but I was shaking so hard I spilled it on myself. I drank half of it before I couldn’t taste him anymore and then left, running home to hide in the treehouse.”

“Where I showed up and…” Bucky couldn’t finish. “God, Pen.” The tears he’d been fighting spilled down his cheeks. “I’m the biggest jerk.”

She squeezed his hand. “You didn’t know. I was too numb and too sick and embarrassed and horrified to be able to express myself. I could hardly admit it to myself, let alone tell you. God!” She gave a choked laugh. “I was terrified to tell anyone. So scared you’d be as disgusted with me as I was with myself.”

“Jesus, Penny! Of course not! Fuck, if Steve and I had known, we would have hunted that fucker down and-” He cut himself off from finishing with castrated him.

“Made him eat his own balls?” she murmured, her ocean eyes peering out at him from behind her wet lashes.

“Something like that, yeah,” he murmured. “You know not every man is like that.”

She gave a tired sigh. “I know that in theory, but then I met Aaron in Uni.”

His blood froze. Not twice. If she said it happened twice, he was going to lose his mind.

“It’s not what you think,” she murmured, evidently seeing the panic on his face. “We dated, but I couldn’t… when things would get physical, I got…” Red filled her cheeks as she turned her face away. “I don’t even remember what happened thanks to the drugs, but I just… just couldn’t. And he was okay with it. He didn’t push me for sex. I was so thankful until I realized he was using me. He stole one of my very first designs and tried to pass it off as his own. Thankfully I had the documents and things to back up my claim, but when I confronted him about it and asked him if anything about our relationship was real,” she pressed her forehead to her knees, “he laughed,” Penny whispered. “Laughed and called me frigid. He and his buddies had quite the chuckle over the whole thing.”

“Christ!” Bucky hissed.

“I got the last laugh when I had him arrested for theft, and then turned around and sold my invention for fifty thousand.”

“Dollars!” Bucky barked.

Penny chuckled. “Yeah. Dollars.” She leaned toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. “After Aaron, I gave up on men. What was the point when they just kept taking things from me? The only one I could trust to have my back was Steve, and you were right about one thing. There’s no one like him, and few people can live up to his standards. Now with what Marcus is probably doing, it looks like my luck with men is holding.”

She gave a defeated sigh and Bucky wrapped his arm around her. “I’m real sorry, Pen. I should never have said what I did. It was mean, and I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” she whispered. “Why?”

“I thought…” He couldn’t say it, not after what she’d just told him. “I was mad because… fuck! I was twenty-four, and so fucking attracted to you — my best friend’s seventeen-year-old sister. You were so sweet and good and lovely. Looking at you helped me forget some of the less tenable parts of what Steve and I were being asked to do. The idea you’d… been with someone else, I was hurt and jealous and said foolish things.”

She lifted her head to look at him, surprise in her eyes. “You… you wanted me?”

“Yeah, Pen. I wanted you.”

“I so badly wanted you to kiss me on my birthday,” she whispered. “Then when you did after what happened… all I could think was, “If you knew what had just happened, you’d be so disgusted by me.” I didn’t even know what he’d done, and your mouth was on mine. Then you said what you did, and it was everything I felt about myself at that moment.”

“Baby girl,” Bucky gently cupped her chin in his hand. “I could never be disgusted with you. Nothing that happened was your fault. You know that right?”

“I knew better than to take that drink,” she whispered, her eyes haunted.

“He chose to drug you. He’s the one who-” Bucky swallowed the bile in his throat, “raped you. None of that is on you, Pen.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “I know that, but I still feel… dirty. It’s been years, but I can’t shake the feeling. Sometimes I feel like I’m cursed to be disappointed in men. Steve’s so… good. It’s like he’s all the good I’m allowed to have.”

“That’s not true, Pen. You can’t think like that!” he insisted, pulling her closer until they were hip to hip, her hand linked with his, the other curled against his chest. “There are good guys out there besides Steve.” He shifted his metal hand to the back of her neck and drew her up out of her hunched position. “There are other guys you can trust to have your back. Like me.”

“James,” she whispered, her hand gliding up to rest against his neck; her thumb skimmed the edge of his jaw, back and forth over his stubble.

“Penny, baby girl,” he swallowed thickly. “Can I tell you something?”

“Considering everything I just told you?” She gave a wry smile. “Yeah, Bucky. Anything.”

His gaze drifted down to her lips, plump and pink and parted before lifting to lock with her eyes. The ocean blue was mesmerizing, deep and dark and mysterious like the sea itself. “I wanted to kiss you on your birthday, too.”

Her breath shuddered out, and her gaze dropped to his lips. “I wish you had.”

“I would have done it so differently,” he murmured, her thumb continuing to gently stroke his jaw.

“How?” she whispered.

“Softer, gentler. Sweet like you.”

Her hand skimmed slowly forward until her thumb rubbed over his lower lip. “You were my first.”

He groaned and let his forehead rest against hers. “Damn, Pen. Now I really feel like shit.”

“Then… um…” She cleared her throat and looked away. “Maybe we could have a do-over?”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his heart jumping to his throat. 

Her lashes lifted slowly to reveal the uncertainty but also the tentative hope in her eyes. “It would be nice to have one from someone who wanted to, and who didn’t want to take something from me in return,” she whispered.

“Baby, are you sure?”

She pulled away. “If you don’t want to, Bucky just say so.”

Bucky tugged her back. “I didn’t say that, darlin’. Not at all. You’ve just told me some pretty emotional stuff. I don’t want to take advantage here.”

“You’re not,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “You won’t be.”

He lightly stroked her spine. “A do-over, huh?”

“Please?”

“Baby girl, that was real sweet,” he sighed, a smile twitching his lips. “Should I show you how it should have been? Your first kiss.”

“Please, James,” she purred, carding her fingers through his hair.

“Damn,” he smirked. “That’s real nice.” His hand tightened gently in Penny’s hair and pulled to tilt her chin up. He took his time bringing their mouths together, watching desire swim in her ocean blues. Their noses brushed, bumped, and rubbed together as he teased her a little, his upper lip ever so lightly skimming hers until a quiet whimper left her. Only then did he take her lips, her sweet, soft lips in a tender kiss. The kind of kiss that lingered. The kind of first kiss she deserved. The kind that smouldered instead of burned.

Her lips parted on a gentle sigh. Bucky couldn’t help but flick his tongue over the bottom one. Penny’s arm went around his neck as he lifted her to his thigh. The taste of her was like candy, sweet and sinful when her tongue tangled with his. She moaned and he echoed it, deciding kissing her was a bad idea. Penny was addictive. He was never going to get enough.

Penny pulled slowly back, her lips clinging to his until the last possible second. Her quiet sigh was nearly his undoing, so he drew her down and kissed her again. It was just as soft and sweet, just as tender until she sank her teeth into his lower lip and nibbled.

“Penny,” Bucky groaned.

She smiled when she lifted her head and ran her fingers through his hair. “Thank you, James.”

“Any time, baby girl,” he murmured. “Any time.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, and Bucky held her close. It was comfortable, and though he still felt terrible about how he’d treated her and what she’d gone through, he thought maybe they’d found a place to start from again. If she could trust him, he would do his best to help her heal the worst of her wounds.

Bucky tucked his nose down in her hair and breathed in the scent of peaches and vanilla. The smell made him smile even as her trauma made his heart ache.

Next Chapter

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