#just the BEAUTIFUL beautiful word wrapping of what is as much a eulogy to the heights of capitalism as it is a eulogy for Logan--and the

[antigonick]

Yeah, the money. The lifeblood, the oxygen of this... this... this wonderful civilization that we have built from the mud. The money, the corpuscles of life gushing around this nation, this world, filling men and women all around with... with desire. Quickening the ambition to own, and make, and trade, and profit, and build and improve. I mean, great geysers of life he willed. Of buildings he made stand. Of ships, steel hulls. Amusements, newspapers, shows, and films, and life. Bloody, complicated life. He made life happen. He made me and my three siblings... Sorry. And, uh, and yes, he had a terrible force to him. And a fierce ambition that could push you to the side. But... But it was only that... that human thing. The will to be, and to be seen, and to do. And now people might want to tend and prune the memory of him to denigrate that force. That magnificent, awful force of him, but my God, I hope it's in me. Because if we can't match his vim, then God knows the future will be sluggish and gray.

Jesse Armstrong, from Kendall’s eulogy, in “Church and State”, Succession S04e09

[tieronecrush]

the lakes

joel miller x reader

rating: M

word count: 1.9k

summary:

take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die / i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you / those windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry / i'm setting off, but not without my muse

warnings: nudity, skinny dipping, talk about grief, death, family tension, self-doubt, self-deprecation, idk man it’s just sad

a/n: my first song for the folklore anthology!! can’t wait to share others & read all the other great works from my pals <3

The sounds of birds chirping surround you in echoes across the valley, mountainous hills convexing in front of you and dotted with evergreens. Underneath you is sun-warmed sand, interspersed with smoothed rocks from rushing water shaping them over hundreds or thousands of years. The fresh, gentle waves of the lake lick against your bare feet, knees bent up as you sit at the shore, eyes trained ahead on the glassy surface reflecting the late summer sky above. Joel is sitting next to you in the same position, his hands joined together in a circle and forearms resting on his kneecaps.

It’d been a quiet hike to the spot you discovered while on patrol. Lately, Joel has been his own worst enemy — closed off to you, stewing in his thoughts about his strained relationship with Ellie and continuing to adjust to life in Jackson, a world so slow and still that he can’t seem to find a place he fits in after moving for so long. His inertia hasn’t caught up to his lifestyle change; he is constantly picking up patrol shifts, and volunteering to oversee new construction and renovations across the town, but even through his go go go, he can’t find a place to land.

This place was the perfect spot to take him; to abate the anxious energy that vibrates throughout him every day with the halcyon elements of nature. Animals that live their lives with no concept of time, a lesson in living in the present, trees that have been around for hundreds of years, solid and strong like the man himself, and the lake. The lake that provides for everything growing around it, that reflects beauty in sunrises and sunsets, that finds itself full no matter any barriers built in its feeding river, replenished by other means from rain to groundwater.

The silence between the two of you breaks for the first time in hours.

“You know what I first thought of you when I met you?” you question him, eyes trained forward on the view. Joel offers a soft grunt in response, hinting for you to continue.

“I thought: Wow, this guy is an asshole,” he scoffs with the hint of a smirk, shaking his head while your own grin plays at your lips, “But then, I got to know you. Forced proximity really tells you a lot about a person. And I very quickly learned how much you care. This world should have jaded you, should have broken you to the bone with what you have been through, but yet, you still find means to nurture. You protect, and you provide. You love so deeply, so incredibly much. Every day I wake up next to you, I thank the lucky stars that I have Joel Miller in my corner. By my side. Watching my back.”

“I know you are feeling something, thinking about something in that head of yours all the time. And I want you to know that I love you as deeply, that I care as much for you as you do for everyone in your life. You can share with me, whatever you feel like sharing.”

Joel is quiet, squinting in the sun as he tosses a round pebble from the sand between his legs into the shallow waters. The ripple appears and dissipates before he speaks.

“That sounded like a eulogy, darlin’.”

You scoff now, that same type of soft smirk that he held minutes before pulling the corners of your mouth up.

“Is that all you took from all of what I said?”

“No, ‘course not. Just, I don’t know, felt like I was listening to what you would say about me after I’m gone.” At that you turn towards him, hand wrapping around his nearest forearm and squeezing with even, steady pressure that says ‘We are not talking about that, I can’t talk about that.’

“I do wanna share with you, I just—I don’t know how. I’ve kept all this inside, locked down in my chest. Anger, temper, violence, even, as armor to keep me alive. Don’t ever think I’ve been very nurturing since, well, since…” His throat chokes up, head drops to stare at the ground. Another squeeze to his arm, this time to say ‘It’s okay. I know. You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.’

Something that he said sticks out in your head, a means to attempt to combat his walls going up again now that they have crumbled slightly. You stand, glancing around out of habit before you pull your shirt over your head, your jeans following with your undergarments in their wake. Joel looks up, expression puzzled as he watches your naked form wade into the water. You hiss as the still-icy water engulfs you from the shoulders down, treading and turning back to your man on the shore. A gentle smile covers your face, beckoning him in with one nod of your head.

He follows suit with stripping down, clothes mixing in a pile with yours as they do on the floor of your bedroom. His own pained expression from the cold lake makes you giggle quietly, a scolding stare aimed your way. He paddles over to you smoothly, the water hitting his chest where he can continue to touch with his feet at the bottom. Your arms slither around his neck, wet fingers carding through the hair at the back of his head. The leverage against him is used to tug you closer, his large palms settling at your waist under the surface while the two of you bathe in the fresh Adam’s ale of these cliffside pools. Two pairs of eyes communicate without words, the soundtrack of the birds and rustling trees occupying the dead air until you speak again, hushed despite the fact that you are the only humans for miles.

“You can take your armor off around me.”

Joel’s eyes flutter closed, a long sigh exhaled as his hands grip your curves tighter. When his burnt chestnut and amber irises are revealed again, he speaks in the same reserved volume that you had.

“I don’t belong there. In Jackson.”

Silence gently urges him to carry on.

“What I’ve done, to strangers, to myself, to Tess, to you, to Tommy, to Ellie…I don’t deserve any chance at life. With what I have taken from others, I don’t deserve to be given anything. Kindness, respect, care, love. From anyone.”

“I’ve been selfish this whole twenty years. I almost left Tommy alone. I dragged us up north to Boston. I got Tess into smuggling. I kept Ellie at a distance for so long because I couldn’t bear to feel that kind of responsibility, that familial tie. And then I chose for her, in that hospital. I couldn’t lose another kid.”

“It—it feels like I should be over the past, over what I have done now that I have a chance at a fresh start, or as close to a fresh start as I could possibly have here in Jackson. I have a shot to build a life with you, to work for Ellie’s forgiveness, to be an uncle to Maria and Tommy’s baby. But what has been chasing me — what has been over — it feels like it’s burrowed under my skin. And all I can feel when I start to forget is these—these heartstopping waves of hurt.”

“And I don’t know how to move on. I don’t know how to forget when my body, my mind, my soul won’t let me.”

Across his cheeks, salty tears have carved rivers, the dampness still in his eyes shining in the midday sunlight. The water sounds as if it’s rushing in your ear, your pulse racing as you attempt to process his confession. His head has bowed in a prayer position, awaiting your means to reconciliation or absolution.

Hands settled on his broad shoulders, another communicative squeeze, this one to say ‘I don’t know either. But I know how to try.’

“You let your people heal you,” Joel’s eyes meet yours, drops cascading from the damp bits of hair hanging over his forehead, attention completely and utterly on you, “Time can’t fix everything. The past can hold us in its grip even with all the time in the world. But people can help you forget. They can help to lessen the pain in your body until it’s merely a pinch. Their love can pull you up when you fall. Their care can nurture your soul to grow resilient again. Their reassurance can teach your mind to hear those sordid thoughts you have but pay them no attention.”

“I want to do this for you, Joel. I want to help you. To care for you. To love you, completely. Your people want to do it for you. And if you can learn from experience, you can do it for Ellie…” Your hands move from his shoulder, skating across his glistening skin and wrapping around the sides of his neck, thumbs resting against his jaw.

“You made choices you had to. Including for Ellie. She was — she is a child. Your kid, if not by blood. She may not understand now, but I know she will find a means to forgive you, or at least understand you.”

“Maybe when she’s older, if she has a kid of her own, she’ll understand.”

Joel’s mouth quips to one side with a faint smile, tears drying on his cheeks as he thinks of the image.

“Reckon we’d be pretty fun, well, sorta grandparents.”

“I think so, too,” you speak with a grin stretched and thumbs brushing back and forth at his jaw, “I can’t wait to grow old with you. To sit on the porch and watch you still yell across the street to your brother for full conversations instead of the two getting off of your asses —”

“Watch it, darlin’,” he warns playfully.

“Hey, it’s true. I listen to it nearly every day. Now, back to what I was imagining, cowboy.”

He nods for you to continue, a full-blown smile on his face.

“We’ll have Ellie over weekly dinners, and whoever else makes up her family. You’ll play me guitar and sing whenever I ask ‘cause you love me so much. I’ll help to heal you, and we will be happy together. We will take our second chance. And you will enjoy your time with your family. And me, hopefully.”

“Definitely with you. My beautiful girl,” his own hand leaves the water, wetting your hair as he brushes it out of your face with tender eyes, “You’re like—like a red rose that’s grown out of my ice-frozen ground. I am so lucky to have you. That you chose me, and continue to choose me every damn day. My grief sometimes feels insurmountable; like I am going to be stuck here forever with no way out of that feeling. But if I get stuck here, with you in my arms and all my people around me, I’d be fine if I simply grow old and wither away back into the earth.”

“I love you, darlin’. So much it might just end in tragedy, that my heart might just explode from lookin’ at you one day. But I do love you.”

A gentle kiss is shared between the two of you, the bitter water combined with your torrid love stirring up a tornado of tingling nerves.

You pull away, only enough to get the words out that you have told him, Joel, your man, every day and will continue to tell him every day you have him, “I love you.”

taglist: @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @bearsbeetsbeskar @serenaxpedro @casa-boiardi @rav3n-pascal22 @dinsdjrn @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @johnwatsn @amanitacowboy @leeeesahhh @isitmelookin4u @javiscigarette @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sugarspiceanthrax @orphanbird95 @space-cowboy-like-me @tuquoquebrute @rsquared31 @morning-star-joy @canseethebrushstrokes @atremises @sstarboy777 @undrthelights @butiknewyoudlinger @dayrdreaming @disassociation-daydreams @joelsversion @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mydailyhyperfixations @diamndx @mingiast @kdogreads @blxsphemy7 @marchai @littlevenicebitch69 @ghostofbrock @iwrotethissky @ladynightingale @jksprincess10 @swiftispunk @pr0ximamidnight @beskarandblasters

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 16 (Echo)

Summary: The family deal with a trying day, Echo and Sofie take a step.

A/N: Hello Lovelies, 

Sorry I wasn’t able to post it last week, but I was finishing up the editing. This is the last part for Echo, next will be Crosshair, but there will be a short hiatus, about two months. So I’m hoping by the week of May 1, 2023 I’ll have Crosshair’s first part up and ready to go. After Crosshair there will be a small Omega part and then the series will be done. 

The next one I’m working on now is the Reunion, I’ll have that ready hopefully by next week.

Thank you for loving this series as much as you have. 

I described the Haka dance of the Maori people in the story, I did research on how the dance is done. However, this is not the only way to do the Haka dance. Please accept it, in the spirit it was written, with one of respect and dignity. 

Love oo.

Warnings: Grief, emotions, dance, discussions about kissing (nothing explicit), kissing, tears, fluff, angst, I think that’s all of the warnings, if I miss any please let me know. 

AO3 Link   |   Words: 7,061   |   PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

Gym Membership Master List  |   Main Master List

Echo held on to my hand as we walked back to the cars, everyone had pretty much left except for the immediate family. He didn’t say much simply tightening his grip on my hand, after what all these guys had been through, a cemetery was the last place they needed to be. 

“How do you think he’s doing?” 

Echo leaned against the car, looking at his brother still standing over Kamarie’s grave. 

“As well as can be expected, I don’t think he’s ever really been in love or at least loved anyone as much as he loved her. Then again he does play things pretty close to the vest.” Echo wrapped his arm around Sofie pulling her in, “She was one of a kind though, I wish you got a chance to meet her.”

“Me too, from what I heard from the eulogy she was quite the amazing woman, held two doctorates, advanced prosthetic technology to an amazing degree, and helped thousands have a better life. She seemed exceptional.”

“Mmhmm” Echo pressed his lips against the top of her head, “She was, but beyond that she was incredibly kind” he mumbled against her hair. “Everyone wants to meet you properly, are you able to come to the wake? Don’t feel pressured to come, you’ve already done so much.”

I nodded against his shoulder, “I took the week off, specifically to be around to help you and your family. I can’t wait to meet them, too. I just didn’t expect you to have such a huge family.”

He couldn’t stop laughing at her statement, “Yeah, it’s … let’s just say my dad had a hard time staying with one person. However, we’re family and we’re always here for each other. Just remember their crazy.”

I chuckled against his side, “I’m fully prepared.” My eyes focused on Tech’s back he was still standing by Kamarie’s grave, Hunter and Crosshair stood off to the side, at least I believe I got their names right, talking amongst themselves.

Tech looked at the coffin freshly laid in the grave, despite needing to leave, he still couldn’t pull himself away, “I understand you are no longer here, and yet despite what my head knows, it seems I am unable to leave you.” 

He cleared his throat, he had done enough crying, he didn’t want to cry again. 

“This morning when I woke up in our bed, it felt inexplicably large; it’s not a different bed, it’s the same one I’ve always owned, but somehow it feels too big for just one person. I hadn’t realized there was still some of your yogurt in the fridge. When I opened it this morning, I began preparing your breakfast without a second thought, until a moment later I realized you wouldn’t be coming downstairs. I stood there looking at the breakfast I had made you for three minutes before Echo walked in and was kind enough to eat it, even though he doesn’t like yogurt.” 

He kneeled down, the amaryllises flower in his hand, “I miss your beautiful face, your laugh, the way you would kiss my cheek to wake me up. I miss hearing your voice, the way you would hum or sing when you cooked. I miss you. I’m grateful I still have some of your perfume left, so I can always have your scent on my pillow.” 

Tech let out a sigh, his hand trailed along his pocket, he shifted a little shoving his hand in, pulling out a box. He opened it, looking at the ring he had bought the week before she passed. 

“I was going to give this to you on the anniversary when we first met, which would’ve been today.” He cleared his throat wiping away a tear. “I want you to have this” he took the ring, placing a gentle kiss on the stone, before threading it through the stem of the amaryllis. “I had it specially made for you, the band is both of our DNA strands intertwined, the emerald and the green moss agate the two stones you said reflected the both of us so well. You always said I was an emerald full of wit, eloquence and foresight, while you were my moss agate encouraging tranquility and emotional balance in my life. I couldn’t wait to see your face when I would’ve proposed this morning.” Tech stood, keeping his eyes focused on the coffin, “Thank you cyare, for allowing me the opportunity to love you. I’ll always carry you with me” his hand brushing against her James Webb Telescope pendant she always wore, which now hung around his neck. He remembered how she laughed when someone thought it was a honeycomb. He placed one final kiss on the flower, “and I’ll always be with you.” He tossed the flower and ring on to the top of the coffin. 

No matter how much he wanted to move, his feet wouldn’t listen, he closed his eyes taking in one deep breath, tilting his head back, blinking back the tears that were making more of a presence, how was he going to move on? How had he managed to live before she came into his life?

 Echo walked up quietly beside his brother, knowing the moments he had with her were fleeting and simply not enough, “It’s never easy is it?”

Tech shook his head no, the lump in his throat making it impossible for him to speak. He’d been to so many funerals, Fives’ funeral was probably the hardest one for him, not as difficult as it had been for Echo. Even Heather’s funeral was tough, but nothing like what he was feeling now. He finally could understand why Hunter threw himself into taking care of Omega, why it seemed every day was a struggle for him after he lost Heather. 

“You know what I loved most about her?” Echo asked

“Her smile?”

“No. I loved how much she loved you” Tech turned to look at Echo, the tears streaking his cheeks. Echo offered a soft smile, full of warmth and respect, “She loved you, for you. She wasn’t trying to use you, she wasn’t doing it to make a point or to make her ex jealous. One night when you had fallen asleep on the couch, while we were watching the documentary on bridges, we had a discussion about you, me, all of us. She had such a unique way of seeing the world, she’s the one that helped me to see I was punishing myself for Fives’ death and Wrecker’s injury. She sat there, combing your hair with her fingers, while holding your other hand, and the entire time she talked about you, her smile never left her face. The love she held in her eyes never faltered. She told me the best part of her life had been every moment she got to spend with you.”

Echo fully turned to look at his brother, “Plus she made us promise”

“Promise what?”

“She made us promise we wouldn’t let you wallow” Crosshair answered, walking up behind Echo, his sharp eyes able to read their lips. 

“She also made us promise we’d make you leave, and not remain here with her all day” Hunter added.

“She also made us promise we’d help you in any way we could” Wrecker stated, placing his hand on Tech’s shoulder, “We all loved her, Tech; she was your better half. She made you better. We’re here for you vod.”

Tech was holding back the tears as much as possible, even in her death she made sure to take care of him. His vision became blurry as the tears obstructed his view, and at some point, someone pulled him forward, and the next thing he knew he was in the middle of a group hug, as his brothers held on to him. 

- - - - - - - - - - - 

The wake was a monumental moment for Echo and me, he took the time to introduce me, not only to his brothers and sisters-in-law properly, but also to his various extended family. The man had so many cousins, I had no idea one family could have this many uncles and cousins. I was speaking with one of the cousins, named Tup, when Hunter stood in the middle of his living room.

It was inspiring to see how he commanded a room, he cleared his throat, and nodded his head, two uncles, Rex and Cody, I think was the name stepped forward standing beside him. Wrecker, and Crosshair followed, along with a few other cousins. They stood with their arms at their side, their hands quivering, their stance was wide as their knees were slight bent, they all made sure to keep their palms hidden. 

As one they raised their arms in front of them to shoulder height, slapping the front of their thighs, raising their arms and slapping their thighs again. 

It was mesmerizing as they turned their quivering hands sideways, stomping their foot and extending their arms out mid torso, pulling their arms back and repeating it again. They closed their fists, making a slow ‘rope pulling’ motion with their right hand, holding it in front of their torso, then with the left hand, repeating it slowly. 

As they danced more and more joined, finally Echo and Tech joined in, standing beside their brothers. Their faces were full of emotion as their left hand extended, their right arm crossed the centreline pointing down, as their fingers quivered, their hands pulling back. Their right forearm raised with their hand in a fist, as their left hand rested on their hip. They then raised their left forearm straight in front with their hands in fist, as their right hand slapped their elbow, repeating their steps. 

Their movements changed slightly with the next set, rather than slapping their elbow, they swept their right hand under the raised left forearm. Their movements were familiar, comfortable, something clearly taught to them from a young age, it amazed me to see their synchronicity, not one of them missed a step, as they raised their right and pointed their left arms down with open palms, fingers extend and quivering. They held their arms in place shifting their upper body to face to the left, then switching their arms as they shifted facing the right.

As one entity, they turned to face straight ahead, sweeping their right fist under their raised left forearm. Their right hand raise and their left lower, as their hands opened, their fingers quivering, their eyes bulging, as they stuck out their tongues.  

The dance went on for a few minutes, my eyes were focused on Echo’s movements, he was in sync with his brothers, his prosthetics not causing any sort of discomfort or tripping him up in any way. The pain and emotion on Tech’s face was intense, his grief was breaking through, his movements were starting to slow down and break until he couldn’t stand up anymore, collapsing down on to the floor, as his tears and sobbing burst through.

Without a second, the guys surrounded him and helped him up. Echo and Crosshair each stuck to his side, as they walked him to a room at the end of the hall. 

I walked over to Mel once the group had dispersed, the atmosphere taking on a new somber feel. She had organized the whole wake, and I had to say there was not one thing missing, it had to be one of the most functioning wakes I’d ever been to, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Sweetie, thank you for offering” she held on to my forearm, giving it a light squeeze. Despite the smile she had, her eyes were glistening, her hand was trembling. 

I moved closer to her lowering my voice, “Are you okay? Do you need a break?”

She simply smiled, patting my forearm, “I’m okay, it’s just … we all got really close to Kamarie and it’s still …” she cleared her throat, “fresh, it’s still fresh. Seeing him break down … Tech’s always very logical and always does his best to keep his emotions in check. To see him fully let go, not in private, but in front of everyone …” Mel swiftly swiped a tear that had threatened to escape, “she opened up his heart.”

“And you’re concerned” Zaina’s voice joined us, as she stealthy joined our conversation, “I’m concerned too.” She gave Mel a side hug, “Like Mel said, Tech’s always been a logical man, it’s one of the things we connected on, when I first met him. There’s no doubt, Kamarie made him a better man, I’m just concerned he’ll lock up his heart for good this time if he can’t move on.”

“If that’s what he needs to do to deal with his grief …”

“No” Omega stated also joining our conversation, “I know my uncle, he wouldn’t just lock up his heart, he’d shut it up tighter than womprat’s butt”

“Omega! Where did you learn that?” Mel frowned at her teenage niece; I had to stifle my laugh, since apparently no one else found it funny.

“Uncle Cross”

“Explains more than enough” Zaina smirked, “Despite the colourful wording she isn’t wrong. If Tech is unable to handle what he’s going through, I have no doubt, he’ll shut down forever. However, unless he actually wants our help, the best we can do is just be there for him. Speaking of which, do you guys know if any of our guys have eaten?”

“Wrecker had a sandwich when we got here, about four hours ago” Mel answered

“Echo snacked on some fruit he wasn’t particularly hungry when we got here. I’m not sure about Crosshair though” I had to say Echo’s family were a lot more welcoming than I expected. I mean Echo’s always been kind and considerate but that doesn’t necessarily mean it would be the same for his family. 

“Well Hunter hasn’t felt hungry,” Zaina glanced down to Omega, resting her hand on her shoulder, “Have you eaten sweetie?” 

“Not really”

“Why don’t you go grab a sandwich or something” Omega simply nodded, as soon as she had stepped away, a solemn expression appeared on Zaina’s face, “Hunter told me this felt too close to home for him, reminded him too much of Heather’s funeral. He said he’d try and get Tech to eat, but they’re both somewhat similar that way, so my guess is if Hunter hasn’t eaten, chances are Tech hasn’t either.”

“How about I go with some sandwiches and stuff, and see if any of them want to eat?” I offered

“That would be amazing thank you so much Sofie. I know this probably isn’t the best way to meet your boyfriend’s family, but we’re really happy to meet you despite the circumstances” Mel’s calming and motherly personality really made me feel welcome.

Zaina however, I hadn’t quite figured out yet, she seemed kind but very guarded when it came to herself; I’ve worked with enough people to know trauma when I see it. I was doing my best not to push her too hard. 

“Truthfully, I hadn’t expected to meet you all so soon, but I have to say I’m glad I got a chance to meet you all despite the circumstances. For the sandwiches, is there anything I should avoid?”

“Crosshair isn’t a fan of egg-salad” Mel responded, “made that mistake when I first met him.”

“Hunter is more into vegetables and fish, he’s not one for a lot of red meat. Tech and Wrecker are pretty good at eating anything” Zaina offered.

“What about Echo? I mean I know some of the things he likes but we haven’t gotten to the sandwich part of our relationship” I smirked, hoping to add a tiny bit of humour to the day. 

“Echo is good with anything as long as it’s not super greasy, he finds it affects his stomach too much” Mel offered smirking. 

“Yeah he mentioned something about that; alright, let me go and get some food for these guys”

“Need any help?” Zaina tilted her head as she looked at me.

“No, I should be okay. If I need help, I’ll let you guys know or rope Omega into helping me”

- - - - - - - - - - 

“Excuse me” I called as I peered into the study, Tech had his head in his hands, as Hunter and Wrecker sat beside him, Echo waved me in, I assumed it was either Hunter’s or Zaina’s study, either way it was cozy.

There was a couch against the east wall, three large bay windows on the west wall, a wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling bookcase, filled with books and a TV in the centre, on the south wall. On the north side of the room was a desk, seemed like an antique, behind it was another bookcase just as big as the one on the opposite wall. Crosshair and Echo were sitting in the arm chairs in front of the bay windows. A coffee table in the middle of the room. 

“We brought some food for you guys” I moved into the room, placing it gently on the table, Omega following behind with another tray, “I can bring you guys some coffee or tea, water, juice?” I offered as I glanced around the room. As soon as Omega left the tray, she went and gave a hug to Tech before heading out again.

“Coffee’s fine love” Echo answered, holding my hand and pulling me closer to him, “Just bring us five black coffees, and we’ll add in the cream and sugar after.”

“Alright” I nodded, placing a kiss on his forehead.

I was heading out when a thought struck me, “Tech,” I rested my hand on the door, ready to close it after I finished, “I know we don’t know each other, but from what I’ve heard Kamarie was a wonderful person; and if you can find someway to honour her memory, maybe a foundation or I don’t know something, then she’ll never really be gone.”

Tech didn’t say anything as he tilted his head to look at me, I don’t know if what I said helped or just made it worse. I glanced back to Echo who had a soft smile on his lips, as he looked at me. 

“Anyway, just a thought. I’ll get those coffees.”

The door closed behind Sofie, as Tech’s eyes focused on Echo, “Did she just quote Star Trek to me?”

“It’s not bad advice, vod” Echo defended

“I don’t think he’s saying she said anything wrong, but she’s a geek.” Crosshair smirked, “Plus she’s easy on the eyes” he chuckled, hoping to irritate Echo. 

“Yeah she is, and she’s my girlfriend”

Crosshair held his hands up chuckling to himself, Hunter simply shook his head, “Tech, why don’t you have something, even a few of these veggies here” Hunter leaned forward putting some on a plate, and handing it back to his younger brother.

Tech nodded a thanks, nibbling on the carrot he had in his mouth. 

“You know, Kamarie once told me she wanted to examine my brain, to really figure out how I worked” Wrecker bumped Tech’s shoulder hoping to get him to smile.

“That’s because your brain doesn’t work, she wanted to know how you were able to still function” Cross sneered out.

“Come on now, everyone behave” Hunter’s Sergeant’s tone coming out.

The door opened once again as Sofie walked through with a pitcher of coffee and a bag full of essentials, “I stole one of the pitchers, there are five cups here, stir sticks, creamers, milk, sugar, brown sugar, sweetener. Oh do you guys want some pastries?” She was talking a mile a minute, Echo couldn’t tell if it was because she was nervous or if she was just doing her best to be helpful. 

“Pastries sound nice” Tech spoke up, offering a thank you smile to her, she simply nodded and exited again. “Echo, she seems really nice. You did good”

Echo nodded, moving forward to pour everyone a cup, “She is, when she heard about the funeral, I didn’t even ask her to come with me, she offered. She said she wanted to be there for me, for us. She even helped me figure out coffee and snacks.”

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“Since the night of Wreck and Mel’s wedding”

“Only two weeks and she’s already helping you like a proper spouse?” Wrecker chuckled, “She’s quite the woman”

“I’ll say” Crosshair smirked, as his finger trailed along his lips, “Too bad I didn’t meet her first”

“Crosshair” Hunter spoke, elongating his name, it was his final warning. The door opened Sofie and Omega carrying pastries in, Sofie rearranged the table a little to make sure everything fit, she double checked if anyone needed anything again. Once she knew everyone was fine, her and Omega exited again. 

Crosshair making a point to eye her figure as she walked out, only to get a smack from Echo, “I’m kidding.” He chuckled, “However, in all seriousness, how are you two able to date, isn’t it against a code or something since she’s a physiotherapist?’

“Yup,” Echo leaned back a cup of coffee in his hand, a sandwich in the other, he took a bite, chewing it for a bit as his brothers all watched him like he was a monkey in a zoo, “that’s why I fired her.”

Hunter choked on his coffee, Wrecker had stopped midway reaching for another sandwich. Tech had a carrot in his mouth, not finishing the bite, and Crosshair just blinked a few times before bursting out laughing.

“You fired her! Well there’s an I love you, if I ever heard one.”

Hunter wiped his mouth, ignoring the burn from the hot liquid, “She’s still talking to you?”

Echo simply nodded, smiling as he took a bite, “She was happy to be fired, she even kissed me after.”

“On the lips?” Tech finally spoke, it took him a lot longer to eat the carrot then he wanted.

“Uhhh…” Echo cleared his throat, “No. Not yet. We were about to but then Hunter called … and everything became super busy.”

“I’m sorry” Crosshair was holding in the laughter. He coughed, hoping to calm down the urge to laugh, “You’re blaming the inability to kiss your girlfriend on …  being occupied. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s understandable to focus all your attention on today, however … there wasn’t a moment, a second, a minute, where you could have taken her in your arms and just planted one, helping her remember she’s a woman, make you feel alive.”

Echo took in a deep breath and shifted in his seat, doing his best not to answer.

“Don’t you want to kiss her?” Wrecker looked hurt on behalf of Sofie, after everything she did for them.

“I do, that’s not the problem.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Hunter couldn’t help become invested in this conversation, the fact Crosshair was intrigued just sent a shiver down Hunter’s spine.

Echo rubbed the back of his head, “The night we almost kissed, I was … I was all set for it. I hyped myself up enough to get the courage to finally make the move, but then …”

“The phone call”

“Right, and since then … well I … I haven’t kissed anyone since before I was injured.” The silence in the room was strangling, all four pairs of eyes looked at him as though he had grown a second head all of a sudden. “Stop it” Echo muttered.

 Tech blinked a few times, before he reached forward taking a sip of the coffee Hunter made him grabbing a pastry as well, “You haven’t kissed anyone … I mean no one - in nine, almost ten years, you’ve never kissed anyone?”

“It’s not that bizarre”

“Of course not” Wrecker agreed, “I was hesitant the first time I kissed someone after my injury.”

“Really? You seemed so comfortable around Mel” Hunter added hoping for clarity.

“Mel wasn’t the first kiss after my injury” Wrecker cleared his throat, glancing away from the rest, pretending to read the spines of the books on the shelf.

“Who was the first?”

“Done Queen-ho-tee. What kind of book is that?” Wrecker did his best to change the subject, not really wanting to discuss that night.

“It’s Don Quixote, and don’t change the subject” Tech directed, “Who was the first?”

Wrecker shifted, “Don’t tell Mel, I never told her, but it was just a quick thing.”

“What do you mean by ‘thing’?” Crosshair shifted his toothpick, focusing his attention on Wrecker, they all became super focused on him.

He stood from his seat, shifting around for a bit, until he leaned against the bookcase, “Okay, so I was feeling particularly low one night; it was the night I originally planned to propose to Isabella when I would’ve gotten back from my tour. I knew you guys wouldn’t have approved so I didn’t tell any of you, but before I could do anything, she broke up with me. Anyway, I went to a bar and before I knew it, I was about ten shots of whiskey in, I couldn’t tell my left from my right. All I do remember is the cold air snapping me back into coherence, and the feeling of someone’s tongue in my mouth.”

“Who was it?” Hunter asked shocked by the revelation, Wrecker was many things, but not one to go out drinking, that was more of a Crosshair story than a Wrecker one. 

“I don’t know for sure, but they appeared to be a rather tall and somewhat muscular woman. Long red hair, striking green eyes, but that’s all I remember.”

“What happened after?”

“Nothing” Wrecker played with his ear, not looking at them.

“Nothing?” Tech questioned

“At least nothing that I can remember. Somehow I made it home, and I woke up in my bed.”

“Just because you woke up in your bed, don’t mean nothing happened” Crosshair jested.

“Whatever. Nothing happened. Well, the only thing that did happen, was I realized I didn’t want to kiss someone unless I was sure about them.”

“How long was it before you kissed Mel?” Hunter asked as he grabbed some food to snack on.

“Um… about ten seconds after I asked her out.”

“WHAT?!” All four shouted in unison.

Echo appeared shocked, his mouth gaped open, “You knew that quickly?”

“Yeah. I did. What about you Hunter? When did you first kiss Zai?”

“I’m not discussing that” Hunter chuckled.

“Come on, we’ve all been open about this. I’ll tell you when’s the last time I kissed someone” Crosshair egged on.

“You mean aside from whatever poor soul had the misfortune of meeting you last night” Tech teased.

“Alright well if he doesn’t want to say it, I can guess. It was after you sent Omega and I back to the hospital with the stuff for Wrecker, Mel and Iris.”

“No”

“Oh I know” Wrecker chimed in, “it was when she was living with you before the attack, when you guys were training?”

“No”

“When she woke up in the hospital” Tech stated with firm conviction. 

“No. I almost kissed her then.”

“So then when did you?” Echo tilted his head, wondering how much darker his face would go, with all the blood rushing to Hunter’s face from embarrassment.

“Guys, drop it”

“Nope, we’ve been pretty open and honest about our embarrassing moments, come on” the pleading look on Echo’s face made Hunter want to punch him; instead he simply let out a frustrated laugh and resigned to just let them know. 

“Fine, I kissed Zaina for the first time when I was helping her pack up her stuff.”

Silence filled the room, as the guys waited for him to continue, it “Wait that’s it, you’re not going to tell us anything more?” Crosshair sneered out, annoyed by his older brother.

“You don’t need to know the details, that’s between her and I, and frankly how is any of this helping?”

“During my research last night, on how to deal with grief, one scholar mentioned ‘while distraction isn’t healthy for long periods of time, it can be a relief to get your mind off of your present grief, with simple distractions, and help you deal with the weight of your loss.’ Granted, I doubt this was the kind of distraction he had been implying, it has been helpful.” Tech nodded his thanks to his brothers, grateful in that moment to have them. 

There was a slight knock on the door as Sofie peered her head in, “Sorry, just wanted to see if you needed anything?”

Hunter glanced around, confirming with each of his brothers that nothing was needed, Wrecker simply motioned to his watch. Hunter nodded in confirmation, turning to look at Sofie, “We’re all good, thanks. Out of curiosity, how many people are still left?”

“Umm not a lot, most of Kamarie’s co-workers have left, some friends of the family if I remember correctly are gone, it’s most family that’s left, some cousins and your uncles are still here.”

“Do you feel like going back out again?” Hunter turned to Tech, resting his hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. 

Tech nodded, “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Everyone has shown exemplary tolerance and extraordinary kindness in allowing me to hide here. I should go and express my deep gratitude and appreciation for the patience they have imparted towards me.”

I watched as the guys all stood at once, waiting for Tech to make his way first only for him to motion towards Hunter. I waited outside of the door for Echo, it had been a sad and overwhelming day, it been a long time since my anxiety started to act up, but meeting a lot of his family, being a listening ear to a few, and learning a little too much about some of them, all I wanted was Echo’s arms. 

As soon as he stepped out, I grabbed his hand and pulled him over slightly, moving away from the rest, wrapping my arms around his torso, “Hey” he mumbled against my hair, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just needed a hug”

The warmth from Echo’s arm, and the pressure from his prosthetic somehow eased my stress and anxiety, his hands started rubbing up, down, and from side to side. I could feel the tension in my back melt away, “Is that better?”

I nodded against his chest, “Yeah sorry, it just got a bit overwhelming all of a sudden.”

“Didn’t realize you suffered from anxiety?” He tightened his arms around her, holding her a little closer. “Thank you for everything you did today, it meant a lot. Not just to me, but to everyone.”

“I really didn’t do much, mostly hung out with Omega, as she introduced me to your family. I got to talk a bit with Mel and Zaina, they’re really awesome.”

“Yeah they are, and you did a lot. Don’t sell yourself short” he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, squeezing her a little bit more, “How are you feeling? Is that okay?”

“Mmhmm” I nodded against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, standing there with his arms wrapped around me, felt like the best blanket in the world.

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

Hunter sat on the couch in the living room, everything was back to normal after the wake had finished. 

Omega was lying on the couch as well, resting her head on Zaina’s lap, her eyes focused on the TV, Zaina was reading, while her hand carded through Omega’s hair. As he watched them he couldn’t help smile at his family, his hand reached out on its own as it started playing with Zai’s hair. 

She glanced out of the corner of her eye looking at him, a smirk on her lips. However, when she saw his expression the smirk vanished, he looked like he was miles away, there was still a hint of a smile on his lips, yet his eyes held grief and pain. 

‘You okay?’ She mouthed to him, trying not to disturb Omega.

He gave a simple nod, as his hand shifted from her hair to her cheek, his eyes widened as he really took her in. He thought of Tech, and everything he was going through, he leaned over placing a kiss on her cheek, “Love you, and love you too kid” he placed a kiss on Omega’s head.

Omega shifted her head to look at her dad, “You okay?”

“Yeah, just ... after everything today, I’m reminded that I have an awesome family. I love you both.”

Omega smiled, reaching her hand up to pinch his cheek, “Love you too, dad”

Zaina chuckled, placing a kiss on his cheek hoping to ease the pain from Omega’s pinch. “We both love you, amar (moon - arabic), and it grows more with each passing day.”

Hunter placed a kiss on Zaina’s lips pulling her into his side, focusing his attention back on the TV.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Wrecker stood beside Iris’ crib watching her sleep, his finger trailing over her forehead and along her cheek. Simply being beside her, and watching how she slept with confidence and without fear, made his heart ache. He couldn’t remember a time he slept the whole night through without a worry, without a nightmare of the war, to be able just to close his eyes and have pleasant dreams. 

Even if he couldn’t experience it, he was happy, he could provide that comfort for his daughter. 

Mel did her best to keep her footsteps light as she walked up to Wrecker, wrapping her arms around his middle, resting her head on his arm. She had woken up when she didn’t feel him lying beside her.

“You alright, sweetie?” Her voice was barely audible, doing her best not to wake their sleeping daughter, who was finally able to sleep through the night. 

“I keep thinking about Tech and Hunter.” Wrecker’s voice didn’t exactly lead to quite whispering, but it was low enough not to disturb Iris, “I never fully understood the pain Hunter went through when he lost Heather, even though I had Isabella at the time. I’ve realized since then I was never really in love with her. Today, watching Tech fall apart, seeing how much pain he was going through, I kept imaging what my life would be like without you or Iris and …” he turned to face her, there were tears welling up in his eyes, “the very idea of not having you two in my life …” his voice trembled, his lips began to quiver, he couldn’t lose it now. He closed his eyes calming the storm within him. “I can’t lose you, either of you. You’re my rock, Mel. My foundation and my strength. You’re my sun and Iris is my moon, either by day or night you are both guiding me; always there to shine a light into my life I hadn’t realized I was missing. You brought me out of the dark.” His trembling hand, caressed her cheek, as his forehead gently pressed against hers, “Don’t leave me, cyar’ika. I can’t go back to the darkness.”

Mel’s heart ached in pain at seeing the one she loved without restraint torturing himself on the possibilities of what-ifs, her hands rested against his neck, as her thumb trailed along his jawline, “Sweetie, we’re not going anywhere, we’re here. Right now, with you. We’ll always be here. I’ll always be here.”

He pulled back his head, smiling as she wiped the tears from his face, he gently placed a kiss on her lips, as his arms slowly wrapped around her pulling her in. She pulled back a little as he started to deepen the kiss, “Wreck, we should go back to our room.”

He nodded, placing another kiss on her lips, lowering himself a little until he wrapped his arms around her knees picking her up, surprising her if the small squeak that escaped her lips gave any indication, he chuckled as he placed another kiss on her lips, heading towards their bedroom.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Tech sat with Crosshair in Cross’ living room, he had refused to stay with either Hunter or Wrecker and he didn’t feel like going back home. He just wanted to sit there and drink, not having to be reminded that Kamarie was gone, which was irrational. He understood what he was getting into when he agreed to their relationship; he had accounted for every possible scenario, he simply hadn’t realized how painful it was going to feel.

“Want another one?” Cross motioned to the empty glass in Tech’s hand.

He tilted it back and forth, eyeing the ice that hadn’t melted yet, “Have you ever fallen in love?”

“You want another one?” Cross held up the bottle of scotch, pouring himself another, before he stood and headed towards his bookcase, it was one of the few things that truly brought him joy. Reading. He wasn’t as avid as Echo or Hunter, but he did enjoy it. He took a swig of his drink, grabbing the old photo album he had. 

He turned to see Tech pouring himself another drink, downing it in seconds. Cross’ eyes widened as he watched his younger vod fill his cup again. Tech had never been one to drink, and the last thing Cross wanted was to have him develop a coping mechanism that would be detrimental. 

He subtly moved the bottle away from Tech opening the photo album to a group photo of him and his unit sitting at a pub in London, he pointed to a short haired, bespectacled, chubby looking woman.

“Who’s that?” Tech asked doing his best to keep his eyes focused on the person Cross was pointing towards.

“You asked a question, I’m giving you the answer”

“The one who’s drinking … club soda?” He asked wearing into the photo

“Yup”

“The one who looks like she hasn’t slept for three days?”

“Yup”

He looked from the picture back to Cross, “Her?”

“You got something to say?”

Tech’s eyes closed as he swayed, “I’m just making sure she’s the one …” his voice trailed as he head slumped against the table passed out. 

Cross chuckled at his vod, adjusting him till he was lying down on the couch, dropping the blanket on him, taking off his glasses. Once his younger brother was set, he grabbed the photo album sitting back on the couch, his finger trailing over her face again, “Yeah, she’s the one.”

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

Echo stood in Sofie’s kitchen preparing their drinks, his hot chocolate, and her tea. It had been a long day for everyone, it was emotionally, mentally, spiritually and even physically draining. His body was hurting after the dance. 

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been for all the physio and dance classes he was going to, he doubt he’d have the stamina to last as long as he did. It’d been a concern of his after the accident, whether or not his stamina would fail him, not just in this aspect, but in all aspects of his life.

Being in Sofie’s apartment was nice, it felt cozy and warm just like her; as soon as she stepped in to her place she turned on her speakers and started playing Miles Davis, they had gone through almost two of his albums already, it provided the perfect way to ease their stress and tension. 

My arms wrapped around Echo, as I snuck up behind him, my hair was still a little wet, I could feel him shiver underneath me from the dampness, “Sorry”

“It’s okay, just unexpected. How was the shower?”

“Refreshing, you should take one too”

“I’ll take one when I get home”

I let go of his torso, my hands slowly dragging away; my mind couldn’t help think that maybe he didn’t want to stay because I’d done something wrong … I had to calm down my racing thoughts. This had nothing to do with me, it’s probably had more to do with his own comfort. However, no matter how much I tried to silence the inner voice that kept telling me I disappointed him, it still managed to rear its ugly head. 

Echo could feel her breathing quicken against his back, he slowly turned around until he faced her completely, her head resting on his chest now. “Hey” his voice was gentle and soothing as his hand shifted her head a little, guiding it till he was able to look at her completely, “I would love to stay with you tonight, but … I’m …” he cleared his throat as Sofie looked into his eyes, he could feel his heart beat quicken, his blood pressure rising, all of a sudden it felt as though he was on fire. Everything was just too warm all of a sudden.

“Your?”

“As much as I want to stay ... spend time with you” his prosthetic finger trailed down her face, “I’m not …” he cleared his throat, “I’m not ready to … you know.”

It took me a minute to completely understand what he was referring to, when the shoe finally dropped, “Oh!” I chuckled a little resting my head against his chest, before I focused on his face again, “Echo, I’ve worked with enough veterans and trauma victims not to demand anything. I know this is a big step for you, and just being here with me doesn’t mean I’m expecting anything either. I’m happy just to be with you, Echo, like this and when you feel ready we can take that next step.”

He couldn’t help the tears that were welling up, his heart began beating faster, his face felt flushed, he never imagined he’d meet someone who was kind and as considerate as Sofie, his thumbs trailed along her jawline, as his eyes looked deep into hers, glancing between her eyes and lips. 

He watched as her lips widened and parted a little, he leaned down unable to hold himself back any longer.

His breath fanned over my face, as his lips inched closer, grabbing the front of his shirt, I pulled him closer till our lips met. Echo took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, it was a little awkward and clumsy at first but soon enough it started to feel better than any previous kiss.

Echo held her closer, taking in all the warmth, love and comfort she had to offer. Knowing this had been a first step for him.

PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

Gym Membership Master List  |   Main Master List

TAG LIST:

@justanothersadperson93​ @liadamerondjarin​ @badbatch-simp24​ @spicymcnuggies​ @lady-ren​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @darkangel4121​ @discofern​ @kavecika​ @monako-jinn-stories​ @ladykatakuri​ @avathebestx​ @theroguesully​ @furyhellfire66​ @carodealmeida​ @ciramaris​ @sprout-fics​ @twinkofthedink​ @dindjarin-mandalorian​ 

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Grief- Steve Harrington x OC

Steve Harrington x Ella Warner

Description: Grief was a nasty thing. It caused people to lock themselves away from the world to isolate themselves. It was up to the people that loved them to help them break from their confines and help them learn to heal. And for Ella, that person was Steve. 

Word Count: 2k

Ella hadn’t left her bed in days. Well, specifically, she hadn’t left her bed since Wednesday, the day of Barb’s funeral. That’s right, Wednesday was finally the day that Barb Holland’s parents were ready to have a funeral for her. They’d gotten an answer for what happened to her, so she could be put to rest. 

It was such a beautiful day. The sun was shining, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, and the nature around Hawkins was gorgeously green. There wasn’t a better day Ella could’ve imagined Barb would want her funeral to be on. And yet, despite the gorgeous day, Ella still couldn’t help but cry. Even as she was getting ready for the ceremony she shed a few tears. Her parents had been kind enough to drive her to the cemetery, though they didn’t really know her well. Not many people were in attendance since Barb didn’t have a lot of friends in life, but she recognized those there. Aside from Barb’s parents, the Wheeler family, Jonathan Byers and Steve Harrington were there. 

As soon as Steve noticed her he shot her a small smile, seemingly noticing her already bloodshot eyes. He held out an arm for her, and she walked over to him. She allowed him to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders, resting her head on his shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Nancy glance at her. The older Wheeler looked surprised to see the two of them so close together. Ella was too overwhelmed with emotions as her eyes landed on the white casket in front of her to care. Steve’s hand on her shoulder gently squeezed it as the pastor began speaking. 

Despite the fact that it was a small ceremony, several eulogies were given. Barb’s father, her grandmother and her uncle all gave eulogies. Finally, one those were done, Ella took a shaky breath and stepped forward when the pastor gestured for her to. In the days leading up to the funeral Barb’s mother had asked Ella if she could give one since she was her daughter’s closest friend. She pulled a few notecards out of her coat pocket then glanced back at Steve. He offered her a reassuring and comforting grin, which is what made her finally begin. 

Steve refused to leave her side the day of the funeral and the wake afterwards. Ella couldn’t have been more thankful for it because she genuinely needed all the support that she could get. As Steve, Jonathan and Nancy knew, she’d been the last one to see Barb alive at Steve’s house. She’d only left her friend for a moment to go get her a drink, and it only took those few seconds for Barb to disappear. Everyone knew that she carried that guilt with her, which is why she relapsed into her depression after the funeral. 

It was now Saturday, and she hadn’t seen anyone save for her parents since then. Even then her parents only saw her when they had to check on her and make sure she wasn’t dead or malnourished. Thankfully they’d given her some grace and allowed her to take the rest of the week off from school, which is why she hadn’t left her bed. She didn’t eat much and only really got up to use the bathroom. In fact Ella couldn’t do much more than just stare at her window or, when she was feeling froggy, her wall when she turned over.

She had been doing the latter when a knock sounded from her bedroom door. Her brows furrowed in confusion; her dad was supposed to be at work by now and her mother had some errands to run. Had one (or both) of them stayed home for some reason? Ella quietly called for the knocker to enter, expecting it to be her mom or dad. She listened idly as the door opened with a small creak, then closed again when they stepped inside. 

“Hey,” Steve greeted gently, which obviously surprised her. She turned around with raised eyebrows. The boy was still standing in front of her door with a plastic bag on indiscernible items. 

“Hey,” she muttered softly, knowing it was quiet enough that he could hear her. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked in the same tone, walking over to the bed. 

“Not great,” the girl answered honestly, knowing he’d instantly see through any lie she tried to tell. Steve hummed in response, setting the bag on her nightstand before climbing on the bed. He sat against the wall that the head of the bed stood in front of, carefully moving her head so it could rest on his lap. It was very early into their friendship that he discovered that she found the position comforting, especially when he played with her hair. That’s what he did once they were comfortable. 

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Ella knew that he was waiting for her to speak first before he even attempted to say anything, as he usually did. She appreciated it, but at the same time she also knew she couldn’t say anything without crying again. Of course Steve would never comment on it because it was such a delicate situation. 

“Ella, you know you can talk to me, right?” He asked softly, finally breaking the silence and making her look at him. That was possibly the first time he’d broken a silence between them. 

“It’s not good to keep things in, you’ve told me that,” he continued as he grabbed her hand. “You helped me with Nancy, now let me help you.” It was almost as if he could hear exactly what she had been thinking. And that was what opened the floodgate. 

“I… She was my best friend, Steve,” she whimpered, clutching his hand as tears began slipping down her face rapidly. In an instant the boy carefully maneuvered the girl into a more comfortable position than what they were already in: a hug. 

“She was probably so alone and scared when she died. And I wasn’t there for her,” she continued between sobs. Steve carefully shushed her as one hand stroked her hair.

“It wasn’t your fault, Ella,” he muttered firmly without hesitation. When she shook her head he cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. 

“Ella, none of us knew what was out there, you especially,” he reaffirmed. “You didn’t know that the Demogorgon thing was nearby and you didn’t know that going to get a drink was going to be the last time you saw her. Barb wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for something you couldn’t control, and you know that.” Ella knew that he was right, but that didn’t stop her from crying. Her head laid on his shoulder as she sniffled. 

“I miss her so much,” she mumbled weakly. 

“I know. I can’t pretend to understand what you’re feeling, but I can do everything I can to help you feel better,” he responded. 

“And how are you gonna do that?” 

“Well, it’d probably be best if you started with a shower.” 

“You trying to tell me something, Harrington?” She half joked. 

“No,” he drawled out, which finally made the girl laugh as she shoved his shoulder. “But seriously, I read somewhere that showers help people feel better. Besides, I don’t think you want to go out without showering.”

“We’re going out?” Ella groaned out, earning an amused grin from him. 

“Yes,” he mimicked her groan as he answered. “You need sunlight. We’re gonna be in the car most of the time anyways so you literally have no reason to complain. Now get up.” The girl rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him, but did as he said. 

Once she was out of the shower he was waiting in the living room with that same plastic bag in his hands.  He led her out to his car, opening the door for her before climbing into the passenger seat. After she was buckled he started the car then began driving. That’s when Ella’s curiosity got the best of her. 

“Hey Steve, what’s in the bag?” The boy hummed absentmindedly then glanced at the bag that now sat in the console before facing the road again. 

“Oh, I figured you probably haven’t eaten today so I grabbed a few things. You can go ahead and eat if you want, I don’t mind food in the car.” The girl stared at him for a moment, then moved the bag onto her lap and began going through it. To be honest, she shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was to see her favorites in it. Reese’s Cups, Pudding Pies, Cool Ranch Doritos, a bottle of raspberry soda, and several other things. 

“Steve, you can’t possibly expect me to eat all of this,” she laughed. 

“Well, duh. Not all at once,” the boy answered as if it were obvious. “I just didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for.” Ella had to admit that she was touched. Not only had he remembered all of her favorite foods, but he bought all of them so she could have a variety to choose from. A small smile appeared on her face as she pulled out the bag of Doritos and opened it, holding a chip in front of his lips. Steve chuckled quietly as he ate it, offering her an appreciative hum. 

She continued to feed him chips while eating a few herself, eyes staring out of the window as she waited for them to arrive at whatever their destination was. Music played softly in the background, and every so often the peaceful silence was interrupted as one of them made a comment about what they saw or what music was playing. It wasn’t until almost an hour later, as the sun was setting, that she realized that they weren’t actually going anywhere. They were just driving around town. Ella was confused about the (seemingly) random gesture until she remembered Steve’s words from when they were still at her house. 

‘You need sunlight. We’re gonna be in the car most of the time anyways so you literally have no reason to complain.’ When he originally said that, she hadn’t expected their entire trip to just be the car ride itself. But, surprisingly, she wasn’t complaining. She definitely didn’t think she was ready to talk to anyone quite yet (her parents and Steve were obviously the exception). Besides, the car ride was rather peaceful. 

What was it about car rides that was so comforting? Was it the fact that it was with someone she trusted? Someone that truly cared about her and her wellbeing? Steve was definitely that person for her, and had never been more obvious until this moment. That brought a smile to the girl’s face as she just sat there and stared at him. It didn’t take him long to notice it, and a small laugh escaped him. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” the girl answered absentmindedly as they finally reached her house once again. “Thank you for all this, Steve.” Her voice was relatively quiet, but it was more than loud enough for Steve to hear considering he wasn’t expecting her to speak much (if at all). 

“It’s no problem, Ella,” he answered honestly. When he parked, they just sat there for a few minutes. It was clear that neither of them wanted her to leave the car yet because that meant that their time together would be over. Ella bit her lip in thought for a moment as she glanced at the dashboard clock, then she looked at Steve. 

“Hey, there’s still an hour left before dark,” she mentioned, making him face her. “I don’t mind taking another lap around town.” A toothy grin appeared on the boy’s face.

“Me neither.” With that, he moved the gear shift back to D and began driving once again with both of them smiling wide. 

Grief was a nasty thing. It caused people to lock themselves away from the world to isolate themselves. It was up to the people that loved them to help them break from their confines and help them learn to heal. If Steve was the one to help Ella, she knew that she would eventually be okay.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Yelena Belova x Reader : Highs and Lows

Summary: Some lessons are learned the hard way.

Warnings: None

Covers the “Sugar High/Candy Hangover” square for fall bingo.

Word Count: 701

* * * * *

She was bouncing off the walls. A bright smile was on her cheeks the entire night. Her laugh and slightly faster speaking sounded through the apartment well into the late hours of the night.

The excitement she held from celebrating the holiday was increased with every piece of candy she ate.

Admittedly it was amusing, not just to you but also to the kids who came by trick or treating.

You loved seeing her childlike excitement, her usual sarcasm and wittiness even funnier alongside her silly humor.

But you knew, as the pile of wrappers on the coffee table and island grew, what was going to come.

A loud, long groan sounds from beside you, causing you to frown.

You crack your eyes open, instantly regretting it as the harsh rays of sunlight slipping through the blinds and nearly blind you. Huffing you turn over and once again hear the loud groan now coming from in front of you.

Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you open them fully, coming face to face with the beautiful blonde you love so much.

Instead of the sleepy smile you’re usually greeted with, her face is scrunched up as she curls her body up and clutches her stomach.

One look at her and remembering what yesterday was, you know exactly what’s wrong. You also know that you're about to spend the next couple hours watching over her, hand and foot because your girl turns into the biggest baby when she isn’t feeling well.

���Awe regrettin all that candy huh?” You ask with a smile, reaching your hand up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

She pouts scooting closer to press her forehead against your collar bone.“ My stomach hurts.” She mumbles, accent mixed with pain and sleep.

You place your hand on her arm, gently rubbing as you allow her to find comfort in being close to you.“ It hurts like, you’re full it hurts or you’re gonna puke it hurts?”

“I-” she huffs and shakes her head,“ I don’t know.” You nod, having expected that answer, and slip out of bed.

A whine falls from your girlfriend’s lips and she reaches for you with as little effort as possible.

“Don’t leave me.” She pouts, lifting her head to watch you tug on a hoodie.“ I could die, you know.”

“If you do, I'll write a really beautiful eulogy.” You tell her with a wink, then turn to leave out, heading to the kitchen.

Having nursed a few of your own candy hangovers, you know a few things that help.

You come back to the bedroom, setting two bottles of water on Yelena’s nightstand.

“Hey pretty girl,” you carefully kneel beside the bed. Pulling the covers back away from her face, you smile softly, reaching up to caress her cheek.“ I got you some tea, it’ll help your stomach.”

She eyes the mug hesitantly, her brows furrowed in a way that makes you chuckle.

“There isn’t any sugar in it I promise.”

That seems to be the assurance she needs. Slowly she sits up, accepting the mug from you. As she sips it, you walk around the bed and reclaim your spot, scooting closer to her.

After another sip, she presses against your side. Her forehead rests against your shoulder and you feel her hair tickling your back.

“Why’d you let me eat so many candies?” She grumbles.

Smiling a little, you take the tea from her and set it on your nightstand, then wrap your arm around her.

“You gave me the pout Lena. It was too cute for me to tell you not to eat it all.”

Huffing, she snuggles closer to you, slipping her arms around your midsection.“ That’s a lame excuse.” A tight squeeze is given to you followed by a soft breath against your chest.

“Well how about the fact that you’re a trained assassin and could’ve easily taken the candy anyway.”

She shakes her head.“ Lame. You’re a trained agent.”

You sigh, slipping your hand into her and gently scratching her head.

“I know one thing,” she mumbles, voice dragging as her eyes droop.

“What’s that?”

“I won’t be doing that again next year.”

* * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout​ @ecruzsalaz

[mediocre-writerr]

older [toni shalifoe]

toni shalfoe x reader

requested: Part 2 of Grow as we go?

*not my gif*

Your phone fell out of your hand, cracking onto the wooden tiles of your apartment. Your mom’s voice loud enough on the phone for you to still hear.

“Y/N, sweetie...Are you there? Y/N!” her voice cracked and you could hear the sniffles in her voice.

You fell onto your knees, tears flooding onto your face in a stream full of tears, “Yeah Mom. I’m here.”

“The services are in a couple days if you could get a flight back home. Toni is coming home tomorrow from where they were keeping them in quarantined. She’ll need you. So if you can get home...” your mom drew out and you just nodded, but you remembered that she couldn’t see you.

You ran your hands over your face, “Um yeah. It shouldn’t be a problem. I uh I’ll book it once I hang up.” you were already scrambling around your house for your laptop. Finally finding it to open it up to the airline you need, “I’ll see you tomorrow Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too sweetie. Be safe.”

You booked the earliest flight tomorrow morning. Bracing yourself for something that doesn’t even feel real. She was just here, you just saw her! And now...now she’s gone.

Your mom informed you that Toni will be landing not too long after you, so the two of you could drive home together. And so there you were blankly staring into the semi-crowded airport, waiting patiently for someone you weren’t sure if you wanted to see. It would feel too real, if you did.

And this has to be some sick dream...right?

“Y/N?” you heard a voice call out and your eyes came back to focus, seeing Toni standing there right in front of you. Her skin slightly darker with sunburn blisters lacing her arms.

Tears immediately started to swell up in your eyes at the sight of her. What the hell did they go through? You immediately pulled her into a hug, holding her as tight as possible.

“I’m sorry...I’m so sorry! I couldn’t,” she gasped out, but you shushed her.

“Shhh...it’s okay. It’s okay.”

But nothing was okay anymore.

The two days leading up to the services felt like a drag. You hated how it felt, everyone coming up to you and hugging you. Telling you that they’re sorry for everything and that’ll hurt for a little, but it will all be okay.

How was this supposed to be okay? Nothing about this was gonna be okay.

You’ve been avoiding Toni and slowly growing distant with her the entire time. The only time the two of you interacted was when you saw her at the airport. You weren’t mad at her, she couldn’t do anything. But you hated yourself for not being there, making the two of them go on the trip, when it should’ve been you!

“And now we have our eulogy by Martha’s best friend Toni Shalifoe.” the priest said.

Toni released a shaky breath from the seat next to you and she walked up to the podium. She was wearing a beautiful black dress, her hair down in her natural waves. But her beautiful brown eyes was ruined by bloodshot eyes and the sleepless nights showed by the bags under her eyes. No matter what though, she still looked absolutely beautiful. She unfolded the paper she was holding and began reading it.

“Marty was my best friend. She was the only one at school who could put up with all of my bullshit. I was a complete ass, 99% of the time, but she didn’t...she didn’t care about that. She still stood by my side, when I was homeless, when my foster parents were being terrible human beings...” her voice cracked and you could see the tears well up in her eyes, “Or when I got my first heartbreak. She was always there. And I uh I just was me...I’m sorry.” she confessed when her voice kept cracking and she couldn’t take it anymore.

Without hesitation, you rushed up to her and wrapped your arms around her. You saw the tear stained marks on the piece of paper that everything was written on. Toni nuzzled her face into your neck as she began crying softly. You picked up the paper, clearing your throat, and started reading where she left off.

“I thought I was unlovable, unworthy of being loved by any human being. My parents left me alone, my foster parents treated me like shit, and no one wanted to deal with my attitude. But she came along and she loved me for who I was. The flipping tables, the picking fights, and the piss that was thrown: everything I did, it didn’t matter because she still loved me. Some people are born with sisters, but me? I chose mine.” A few tears escaped your eyes as you continued to read, “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Blackburn, Y/N, I didn’t do the one thing that I swore I would always do.”

Toni was full on sobbing into your arms causing your whole body to shake. You could see your parents crying their eyes out as you were about to finish the letter, “I swore I would protect her and I couldn’t do that. I’m sorry that I’m still here and she’s not. She deserved to live a full life way more than I did. I love you Marty and I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you.”

“I need air.” Toni said, before running out of the small chapel. You looked at your parents and they gave you a subtle nod before you ran after her.

You searched everywhere for her until you finally saw her lying in the bed of your pickup truck. She was just staring up at the sky, out of it. You hopped in next to her, not saying a word, but intertwining your hands together.

“I’m sorry. I know you hate me so much right now.” she finally said, breaking the silence.

You shook your head, “No I don’t hate you Toni.”

“You’ve avoided me this entire time and we haven’t talked since and I know you hate me-“ she was about to ramble on, but you cut her off.

“I don’t hate you. I hate myself. I saw the retreat for you two girls and I was supposed to go. If I just went I could’ve protected you from everything. The two of you would be here right now and I wouldn’t.” you started and she finally turned her head to look at you, “Every time I look at you, I just keep expecting to see Marty next to you, but she’s never there. She never shows up. I don’t hate you, I could never hate you.”

Toni cupped your cheek softly, wiping off the tears as they fell upon your cheek. You pressed your forehead against yours.

“You deserve to be here. Marty would want you to be here right now. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, you’re here now and she wouldn’t want you to be like this Toni. She wouldn’t want me to be like this either. We need to live life for her. Everything we do it’s for her.” you said, but you brought your voice down to a whisper, “No more long game.”

“No more long game?” Toni asked.

You shook your head, “As much as she hated you flirting with me. She was always so happy that you were with me. Because she knew that she could trust me to protect your heart and love you. Life’s too short to play the long game.”

She kissed you softly, it wasn’t the first time you’ve kissed her. But every time it still feels like that very first time.

“As much as Id love to continue and just lay here with you, we should go inside. It might be a little disrespectful if we stayed.” Toni suggested with the first smile you’ve seen on her face.

“Agreed.”

The two of you hopped out of the bed of the truck. But not without one more kiss, heading towards the chapel with a new sense of worth. Living life for Marty.

///

tag list: @hstoria @yourssincerelyj @shalifoestilinski @greysky22

[wrenhyperfixates]

Loss & Love

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: As you struggle with the loss of your grandma, Loki is right by your side to take care of you and wipe your tears away. Warnings: mentions/theme of death A/N: Hello, my dear nonny. I hope you are doing well, and that this story can help you. Thank you for requesting, and I am sorry for your loss ❤️❤️

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The drive back to the Avengers Tower felt painfully slow, the world a somber shade of gray. That, of course, suited your mood just fine. To have warm sunlight spilling across your face would have felt unnatural, disrespectful. Loss was never easy, but it was even worse considering how close you were to your grandma. She was like a second mother to you, and her passing left a gaping hole in your heart.

The thick clouds were still covering the sky as you pulled into the lot of your home. Tony had offered you a chauffeured car before you left, but it felt like something you had to do by yourself. You sat with your head pressed against the steering wheel, trying to gather your energy before getting your suitcase out of the trunk and trudging up to your room. The words of the eulogy you delivered were still repeating in your head. It was a good speech—beautiful even, if you were to believe the words of your friends and family. Still, it didn’t feel like enough. You knew no matter what, it wouldn’t have felt like enough. It would’ve been impossible to fit all that you wanted to say in such a short amount of time.

With one final deep breath, you set off for your quarters. The elevator deposited you on the floor where you and your teammates lived, and you walked halfway across the empty common space before stopping. Leaving your bag forgotten in the middle of the floor, you walked over to the large windows that composed one of the walls. You pressed your palm flat against the chilled pane, and looked out at the world. The clouds had yet to let a drop of rain fall from their reserves, once again mirroring you, who had yet to cry.

When you first heard the news, you were numb, like life was some surreal nightmare-land trying to trap you. Like some endless ocean at night, trying to drown you in its murky depths. Now you were beyond ready to let your tears trail down your face, staining your cheeks. Somehow, you couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. Maybe because it would feel too real once you finally gave into the overwhelming grief in your soul. Maybe you thought that if you didn’t cry, it wouldn’t be true. It was a silly notion, you knew, but had you let your tears spill, your grandma wouldn’t have been there to dry them or give you a gentle hug. Then you wouldn’t be able to pretend like she ever could again.

You weren’t sure exactly how long you stood there, contemplating in silence, before you watched Loki approaching in the reflective window. The raven haired god wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder, his hot breath fanning over your neck. He’d offered to come to the funeral with you, but much like what you told Tony when he’d offered the car, this felt like something you had to do alone. Still, now it was comforting to be held in your boyfriend’s embrace, keeping you from drifting too far into the the void of your thoughts.

“How are you doing, my dove?” he whispered as to disturb the silence that had settled around you as little as possible.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “It still feels unreal. I don’t know what to do.”

“That is perfectly understandable.” He pressed a quick kiss to your neck. “Will you let me take care of you?”

You just nodded, too spent to do anything else. He took your hand and led you over to your abandoned bag, which he picked up, and headed off in the direction of your quarters. Knowing that if he wasted any time trying to fish out a key, one of your teammates might pop up and start pestering you with questions, Loki opened it with his seiðr. He discarded your suitcase somewhere near the door and led you to the couch, placing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

Loki didn’t say a word as he moved into the bathroom to draw you a bath. Somehow it was more comforting than if he’d tried to say anything, the fact that he knew you were still processing. That you weren’t ready to talk yet. And still he was there for you. You watched him as he came back out into the sitting room and, still wordlessly, brought you to the tub.

He turned around while you undressed and didn’t turn back until he heard the gentle splash of your your body sinking into the water, hidden by the lavender scented bubbles he’d put in. Next he set about lighting a number of candles around the room and dimming the harsh fluorescent lights, creating a calming atmosphere. After a minute of fiddling with the speaker and phone he still wasn’t entirely sure how to use, the god got some gentle music playing in the background without any major mishaps. Loki sat next to you on the floor, holding your hand and stroking the back of your knuckles with his thumb. Periodically, he’d kiss your fingertips, and you’d smile ever so softly.

After a nice soak, you got out and wrapped yourself in a plushy towel Loki had laid out for you. Whilst you dried off, he fetched your comfiest pair of pajamas and placed them on the vanity. Allowing you some time and privacy to change, he walked back out to complete some other task that was unknown to you at the time. You pulled on the shirt first; it used to be Loki’s, and seeing how he was a good bit taller than you, it was much too long. But you didn’t mind. It still smelled like him and you liked to press the fabric to your nose and inhale the comforting scent of leather, pine, and old books. The peace it brought almost let you push your turbulent thoughts of the day from your mind. Almost.

After finishing dressing in your nightclothes, with a pair of fuzzy socks to complete the look, you wandered out into your bedroom. Once again, Loki knew exactly what you needed, and had taken the liberty of providing your favorite snacks. Perched on the edge of the mattress, you ate and ruminated on the state of your life right now, how to deal with what you were feeling. Because the numbness was entirely gone now, and you could feel the heavy depression setting in.

Done with the food and having had some time to digest, you spread out across the bed, joined by your boyfriend shortly after. He tucked your body against his, shielding you from the world. Up and down, up and down, he kept stroking your back, his other hand rubbing circles onto the inside of your palm. The effect was very calming. It made you feel safe. It made you feel protected. It made you feel ready to talk.

“Loki?” you ventured, voice cracking a little. “I can’t believe she’s gone. What... What do I do now?”

“I wish, my sweet dove, that I had the answer to that question. Everyone deals with loss in a different way, some more healthy than others. But you are doing wonderful! Just focus on processing, and I am here for you.” He took a pause to kiss along your jawline. You responded with a kiss to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. “Life and death... It is a cycle. You are born, you live your life affected by those around you. Then you grow up and pass along the lessons they shared, as well as the ones you learned yourself along the way. Those you have told will continue to spread the word, as long they can. And then you die—we all do, be Æsir, Jötunn, or human—and someone you touched learns the lesson you are learning now. There is no way around it, I am afraid. No matter how much one tries to prepare you for loss, they cannot really. You must experience it yourself. But that does not mean you are alone. Like I said, I am here for you. In whatever way you need. I am afraid I am rambling terribly, my dove. Are you still doing alright?”

You reflected on all he’d just said. It’s not that you hadn’t heard something like that before, hadn’t thought it yourself, but something about the way he said it really resonated with you. Maybe it was because this was the first time you were hearing it while actually dealing with loss. Maybe it was because it was the first time you’d really needed to hear it. Or maybe it was because he was right; it was just something you had to experience yourself, and you were doing the best you could with it. And that was all you could do, all you could keep doing.

“I am,” you finally answered after mulling the idea around in your brain. You didn’t notice you’d started crying until he wiped away a tear. “I just... I miss her so much!”

Now the sobs you’d been holding back wracked your body, taking it by storm. You thought of every moment you’d spent with your grandma, every word of wisdom she’d passed along. Every memory that you held so close to your heart. But even though she was gone, those memories weren’t slipping away. They were glowing brighter than ever before.

Loki held you as all this flashed through your mind, whispering soothing words in your ear every now and then, at the points when he thought you needed them the most. When your cries finally subsided, Loki handed you a soft tissue with which to wipe your eyes and nose. He kissed your red and puffy eyelids, showing you that everything was alright before you had a chance to apologize for the outburst of emotion.

As a hush fell upon the room, you heard the gentle pitter-patter of rain against the window, the world still in synch with you as you let your emotions out. You weren’t sure what it was exactly that put the thought in your mind, but you pulled away from Loki and the blankets he’d tucked you under. A large part of you wanted to stay under the soft fleece, but you’d gotten the idea, and it wouldn’t leave you be.

“Come on,” you whispered to a perplexed Loki who took your outstretched hand.

After quickly jamming shoes onto your feet, you were outside in the rain, spinning in circles with your arms out, letting the fat drops run all over you. It was peace and rage; it was joy and sorrow; it was love and hate. It was everything you’d ever felt and more, all crashing down on you at once. And yet, it wasn’t overwhelming. Instead, it was more like something you’d always known settling in your bones.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how cliche you looked, how cheesy your actions must seem. But Loki just stood there, an adoring smile on his face, until you held out your hands to him. He took you in his arms, and you began to dance, to laugh, to cry. To let it all out.

You supposed it was just a part of life that people had to die. That those you’d loved would come and, unfortunately, go. But not all at once. It still hurt, losing your grandma. Nothing could change that. But you still had people who cared about you; people who loved you, and you loved in return. You still had Loki.

It caught your eye just then, how the drops of rain were sliding off the petals of a flower that just so happened to be your grandma’s favorite. You plucked it, and put it in Loki’s hair. The image of the beautiful god with a symbol of another important piece of your life comforted you dearly.

“Thank you, Loki,” you smiled, the droplets running down your cheeks now from the downpour instead of from crying. “For being there for me.”

“Oh dove, you are more than welcome. It is my honor, really.” He cupped you’re cheeks in his cool hands. “And I am here whenever you are ready to talk about it more. Are you? Ready, that is?”

“You know what?” you said, looking at the world around you with new eyes. Different, but not bad. “I am. I really am.”

[fandom-blackhole]

Falling in love with Priest!Din and having some W I L E sex? Love uuuu

-💐

Sorry it took me forever to get to this but I have been trying to get a bit of inspo, but mark me down as struck by the writing gods lol. Also sorry if this isn't that wild, I can also write something filthier if you want.....

The week had felt like it was lasting at least a year and a half with how busy Din had been. Din had had to sit through several kids' first confessions, and while he had in the past always found it cute what children had confessed to doing, small things like stealing a cookie when their parents told them no, fighting with their siblings, lying to teachers, and such, this time though Din had to fight through the thoughts and memories of how you had sounded and how you had felt in that small room where there were children currently confessing to the smallest innocent of things. Then Din had had to go out and give out the Anointing of the Sick prayers paired with the Last Rites and Viaticum to a dying member of his small parish. At the families request he had stayed with them as the man passed away into sleep and then recited the Lord's Prayer and a Hail Mary to help the family in the coming days. By the end of the week the funeral was held in a small ceremony, to which Din gave a short eulogy on the man as well as read the man's favorite passage from the Bible as they lowered the man into the ground. By the time Sunday had come around he was so relieved and hopeful to see you in the pews he had almost forgot that there was a group of children who were getting their first communion this week. Mass had dragged on, Din tired and just wanting to see and be alone with you, but he knew his day was far from over. After mass had finished and as everyone filed out of the church, he slowly walked his way over to the baptismal and uncovered the small pool of holy water as the family of two newly birthed twins circled around him. With a smile to the mother and father he had made his way through the ceremony, taking absolute care to slow himself down and make sure he didn't rush through the ceremony. By the time he waved the last of the family out of the church he was exhausted and he mourned the thought of not being able to see or speak with you at all this last week or this Sunday.

Din sighed and rolled his neck, popping the joints there, before opening the door to his small sacristy, ready to just change and go home and breath for the first time this week. What he didn't expect was for you to be standing there looking through the small bookshelf containing his religious books. He could have cried at the sight of your angelic figure standing there, and even more so when you turned around and gave him a light, soft smile.

"My sweet angel, I did not expect or think I would be able to see you this week. I have missed you more than I can put into words," your gaze immediately softened at his words and you walked over looping your hands around his neck and giving him a slow and soft kiss. When you pulled away, you brushed your noses together and said, "You've had a long week, Din. I wanted to make sure you were fine...and help you if you needed anything."

Din immediately melted under you attentions and pressed his forehead to your own as he wrapped his own arms around your waist. As always when he was with you a little voice in the back of his head rang out about how blasphemous this was but he shoved it away quickly, too tired to deal with the moral dilemma at that moment. He leaned in and kissed your soft lips again and whispered, "I am fine, I promise you, sweet angel. Just tired from the long week I have had, and in need of something relaxing."

He felt you perk up slightly at the mention of relaxation, and he followed you as you slowly sat him on the old, worn two seat couch that had sat in the room for who knows how many years. Din slowly sat down on it when you pushed him to, even though he loathed to be parted from your calming embrace.

"If relaxation is what you need.....then maybe I.. I can help you with that?"

Din sat confused for a few seconds, only to watch as you slowly stripped out of your clothing and softly revealed your skin to him. Din's breathing trembled as he watched you unclasp your bra and slowly bend over to take your panties off. Then you were walking towards him, and he felt his mouth go dry from the absolute sight that was approaching him. He could never get enough of the sight of your bare body, it drove him insane each and every time he was allowed to see it in its complete glory.

When you finally stood in front of him he reached forward to touch you, only you softly knocked his hands away and said, "Please, let me take care of you father ," it was only then that Din really realized how much his slacks had gone tight.

He watched with baited breath as you slowly undressed him, hanging each item where it went in the small closet, each movement sinfully beautiful as your naked body moved. By the time you had pressed his black button down off his arms, he swore that he was ready to bust from anticipation alone. When you finally pulled his aching and flushed cock from his slacks he let out a long groan and felt himself throb just from the small touches.

"You know, I have missed you this week, father. I was so worried you were going to over work yourself with all the events happening, but you did so good and you deserve a nice reward and some relaxation."

Din's head shot up, not realizing he had thrown it back, when he felt your soft lips press to the top of his cock and your tongue dart out to lick the precum gathering there. Din couldn't stop the whimper that escaped his lips as you started running your tongue teasing all around his cock, never taking it into your mouth, only kissing and licking in any and every pattern you could think of. It didn't take Din long at all to get drunk on the pleasure and groan out a quiet, "Please...."

Then he felt you stand up and lower yourself onto his lap. Not quite sinking down on him yet, but close enough to grind your dripping lips against his cock, causing him to twitch more. He listened to your soft moans and whimpers as you used him for your own please, and he gripped your hips encouraging you to continue or to go faster. By the time you were panting from how sensitive the small brushes and grinds were making you, you got impatient and asked, "Are you ready," and before Din even had a chance to answer you were slamming him deep inside of you, immediately hitting that pleasurable spot deep inside of you, making you clench harder around him and moan into his ear.

Din swore he was in heaven with the amount of pleasure he was being thrown into in that moment, and he gripped your hips so hard he knew that his finger tips were going to bruised there for days.

"Move, my sweet and glorious angel, please have mercy on me and move."

And you did just that, immediately setting a sharp pace bouncing on top of him and moaning so perfectly, that if anyone were to past the church they may have thought it a whorehouse. You felt absolutely divine and Din could feel all of his stresses and tiredness just fade away as you continued clamped down on his aching cock.

After a few minutes of riding him, Din felt your hand snake into the hair on the back of his head and yank his head back. With his neck arched and open for you you leaned down and started leaving kisses and small nips, while picking up the pace to as fast as you could handle. Din could feel your orgasm approaching as you sped up and he used his grip on your hips to slam you down on his cock as hard as possible. When you came and squeezed him impossibly tight, he swore he had died and was seeing the pearly gates from the white hot pleasure that coursed through him.

Immediately he rolled you over on to the couch on all fours, before slamming his cock back into you. He pounded into your oversensitive cunt as hard and fast as possible chasing his own high, but also more than determined to feel your walls squeeze him tightly again. When he wrapped his body around your own and pressed two fingers to your swollen clit, it took you no time at all to feel a second orgasm approaching, and this one felt like it was going to be catastrophic. Before you could even warn Din, you felt him hit that spot inside of you perfectly and you all but screamed out as you literally gushed around his cock.

Feeling how tight you got and feeling you cum so hard you gushed and soaked his slacks, Din buried his face in your neck and buried himself balls deep, before emptying every last drop deep inside of you. He spent the next few second panting and collecting his bearings. He slowly kissed at your next, still dazed with pleasure and still buried inside of you, when he whispered out, his filter blurred from his high, "I love you so much, my sweet angel."

[dc41896]

What You Want

Was watching Civil War and thought of this idea☺️. Hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Steve RogersxBlack Reader

⚠️: Bit of angst, mentions of death, fluff

Just hearing his short sniffles through the phone make you quickly stop typing as worry and fear fills your body.

“Steve, what’s wrong? You okay?”

“She’s gone,” he spoke just above a whisper.

“Who?”

“Peggy.”

In your short month of dating, Steve hadn’t gone too deep into detail about him and Peggy. You knew she was a very close friend and someone of major importance in his life. He honestly didn’t have to tell you though, since you could see that for yourself. Before Sam’s meetings, you could overhear the two men from your help desk talking a bit further up the hall about his earlier visit and how she was doing that day. Sometimes he’d have to leave early to go see her after getting calls from the nurse saying how she wouldn’t do anything they told her and kept asking for him.

The last part being the reason how you met after he accidentally swung the door open a bit too hard hitting your shoulder. He profusely apologized asking if you were hurt and even looked over the injured body part to see for himself. You insisted you were fine and even apologized yourself for being too close to the door in the first place, but he continued with his apologies.

The next day he arrived about 30 minutes early with a cupcake sealed in a small, plastic case and a single red carnation apologizing, yet again, for hurting your shoulder. This led to you both talking before and after meetings, getting coffee, and eventually your first date.

“I’m so sorry Steve. Give me a few minutes, I’ll be over soon.”

“You don’t have to. I’m at the compound right now, plus I-I know you’re probably busy.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, right now you’re more important.”

Miraculously, you can hear a smile break through his tears making you softly smile yourself.

“Thanks. You still don’t have to worry about coming to see me though.”

“You sure?”

“Yea, but only because I um think I’d rather be at your place. I-If that’s okay with you?”

“Of course. I’ll go ahead and order food so it’ll be here by the time you come.”

Sure enough, by the time Steve arrived at your door you had just finished removing the containers of Chinese from the paper bag they arrived in. Eyes and cheeks red, you immediately hug your arms around his waist as soon as he walks through the door. He tried to be strong, but feeling your warmth against him along with how sweet and caring you were only made him break down more.

Leading him to the couch, you spread one of your throw blankets across both of your laps before getting a tissue to wipe his tears. As you gently rubbed his back, he told you more about his relationship with Peggy and how finding out she was still alive when he thought he had no one only made her more important. Since then, he’d found out about Bucky being alive too, which came with its own complications, but now that she was gone, it was like a piece of him left too.

You finally got him to eat after a while longer of talking, and even watched a funny movie to try to get his mind off things. Before you could offer to cut on something else, you notice his closed eyes with head propped on his arm. He looked so peaceful as his long lashes sat against his skin with lips slightly parted, that you hated to wake him after the emotional day he had.

“Steve,” you gently speak rubbing his upper arm until his blue eyes slowly appeared. “Wake up, it’s late.”

He sits up with a stretch, covering a hand over his mouth to yawn before looking down at his watch.

“Oh you’re right, sorry.”

“No you’re fine,” you smile standing along side him as he starts to clean up the empty and half eaten boxes of food. “I can take care of it, you don’t have to do that.”

“After everything you’ve done it’s the least I could do,” he smiles putting what food he can together in one container and anything else by itself before throwing away the trash. “Thank you again Y/N for being there.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just trying to do what I can to help.”

As you both finish in the kitchen, you feel like a ball of butterflies going back and forth with yourself on if you should say what’s been on your mind.

“Well, I’ll see you later then,” he states before kissing your temple and then moving to your lips.

“Um, actually Steve?,” you start, holding onto his hand and making him instinctively come closer.

“If you want, you can stay here tonight? It’s pretty late and I don’t want you traveling alone. I mean not that anyone would mess with you, because you’re you,” you nervously laugh. “But still. Plus I-I wouldn’t feel right with you being alone right now.”

Clear blue eyes seemingly peering into your soul, you clear your throat becoming fearful that maybe he thought you were overstepping.

“I-If it’s too early on though, I completely understand. Or if you want to be alone for a while that’s fine too.”

“No no, I uh really appreciate you looking out for me like that,” he answers with a small smile as he peers down at your intertwined hands. “It’s been a while since I had someone besides the Avengers doing that for me.”

“Well, I care about you and just want to make sure you’re good.” Eyes meeting yours, his smile widens before closing the remaining gap between the two of you. His larger, slightly calloused hand caresses your cheek as you let him gently tilt your head to gain better access to your waiting lips. Slow, but not painfully so, his lips moving with yours make you feel as if the perfect ray of sun has somehow managed to touch every single surface of your body instantly warming you.

As you both lied under your covers the rest of the night, his head resting on your chest and palm splayed against your back while you carefully raked your fingers through his hair, Steve never felt so safe. It seemed crazy to admit so early, but with every occasional peck you left on his forehead you felt more and more like home. The home he’d been missing since he woke up all those years ago in a different time among those of a completely new generation.

And you felt just as comfortable with your legs tangled in his while he securely held onto you, as if he didn’t want to let you go. Smiling to yourself hearing his soft snores, you can only hope that this feeling never leaves.

———

So far, the service was nice. It seemed as though the entire New York area was in attendance from the packed pews in the large church. If it wasn’t for Steve being a close friend, neither he, Sam, nor yourself probably would’ve been able to sit.

Although in the midst of a somber moment, you were holding everything together well until you watched him carry in her casket with the other pallbearers. The tears streaming down his red cheeks immediately triggered your own as if you could personally feel the ache in his heart as he said a final goodbye to his first love.

Your arm stays wrapped around his and his hand holding onto yours during the priest’s words of how courageous, adventurous, strong willed, and overall wonderful a woman Ms. Carter was. This makes a small smile appear on his face at their memories as he blinks away more tears.

“Next, with a few words of her own, we’ll hear from Ms. Sharon Carter,” the priest announces causing Steve to visibly stiffen along with Sam.

“You okay?,” you whisper leaning closer to his ear.

“Yea, everything’s fine.”

Judging from the look he and Sam gave each other before looking back towards the front of the church though, that wasn’t the case.

You intently listened to Sharon’s eulogy and the stories she told about the lessons she’d learned from her favorite aunt that helped her become who she was today, but you couldn’t help but notice the way she looked towards your pew. Specifically, at Steve.

Glancing your eyes up at him, you could see his had the same look leaving you with a heartache of your own.

Clearly there was history between the two, which left you wondering what that would mean for you. Sure they weren’t obviously sending flirty glances towards each other, but who knows what Steve was currently thinking.

What if this old flame brought back newfound feelings?

As the funeral ended and the pews began to empty one by one, the three of you are stopped by someone calling Steve’s name.

“Steve, hey,” Sharon smiles walking up to your small group.

“H-hey Sharon.” He momentarily leaves your side giving her a probably much needed hug. Watching her head fall on his shoulder as he comfortingly rubs up and down her back, that ache strengthens as your mind begins to race.

What if Sharon was who he was meant to be with? They both had military ties in some form and must’ve had a strong enough connection during their time. Surely he found more in common with her than you.

You hadn’t noticed you dropped your head looking down at your black heels until you felt a slight nudge from Sam giving you a reassuring wink.

“Sharon you remember Sam,” Steve speaks gesturing to the man beside you.

“Of course, hi.”

“Hey, I’m sorry for your loss,” he says also giving her a hug.

“And this is Y/N,” Steve introduces as you quickly try to get out of your head.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“No worries, it’s nice to meet you too. Your eulogy was really beautiful,” you softly smile.

“Thank you. I’m glad I was able to get through it holding everything together.”

“Peggy would’ve been proud,” Steve adds causing Sharon to shyly smile, tucking a few stray strands of her long, blonde hair behind her ear before meeting his eyes.

“Well I uh need to see if the plot at the graveyard is ready for her,” she explains taking turns looking at each of you. “Thank you all so much for coming to pay your respects.”

“Let me walk with you in case you need any help,” Steve suggests.

“Um sure, thanks.”

“Of course,” he replies before stepping towards you. “I’ll meet you back at your place okay?”

“Yea that’s fine.”

Sweetly kissing your cheek, you muster the best smile you can as he and Sharon walk side by side out of the church leaving you and Sam as the only people left.

“Welp, looks like we’ve been ditched,” he sighs.

“Yea guess we weren’t cool enough.”

“Psh more like too cool.” Holding his arm out for you to hook yours around, you laugh as you both walk out to the gloomy, cloud covered sky waiting outside.

By the time Steve returned to your apartment that evening, it was just before dark. He called on his way asking if you were hungry or needed him to get anything, to which you answered a simple “no” still trying to sound okay.

As if you hadn’t been wondering since you walked through your door where yours and Steve’s relationship now stood with his interaction with Sharon earlier.

While you felt you were convincing, it wasn’t enough for the super soldier whose enhanced hearing seemed to pick up on the slight wavering in your voice from your recently released tears. You didn’t want to cry and tried everything to stop them from happening, but at the thought of Steve leaving you couldn’t help it. You really liked him and wanted you guys to last as long as you could.

A faint soapy smell wafts from the bathroom as he opens the door, now dressed in his white tank and dark grey sweatpants. Hair still wet, he rubs his towel over his short blonde locs gazing at you peering down at your hands as you play with the seam of the white comforter across you. The soft smile on his face quickly turns to concern though meeting your eyes that didn’t seem as bright anymore.

“You okay?”

“Yea. How about you? How are you feeling after everything?”

“I’m fine, but I’m more concerned with you right now,” he answers neatly folding the towel before moving to your side of the bed and sitting next to your legs. Right hand finding your covered leg while his left reaches out to glide his thumb against your cheek, his sympathetic smile nearly causes more unwanted tears to show.

“You know you can talk to me.”

There’s a brief pause as you sigh trying to find your words and exactly how you wanted to say them.

“Is that why you didn’t want me to come with you?,” you finally ask earning a confused head tilt from Steve. “Because she would be there?”

“What? No of course not, I didn’t even know she was going nor that they were related. And I never said I didn’t want you to go, I said you didn’t have to and didn’t want you to feel obligated since you didn’t know Peggy.”

“I never would’ve felt like that. She was your friend, plus I went to support you.” There you were again, always finding some way to warm his heart when he felt at his lowest. “Everything was okay with the plot?”

“Yea, she’s next to her husband with a few of the flowers from the funeral near her headstone. After I helped her with that, I made sure Sharon got in her place okay and we sat and talked for a while.”

He didn’t have to tell you everything that happened, but you appreciated him being so open with you.

“From the glances between you two during her speech, I um assume you guys dated?,” you carefully ask watching him nod.

“Briefly, yes.”

“And seeing her probably brought back memories....” Scooting closer taking your cold hands in his, he bends down kissing your knuckles before turning them over to show the same attention to your wrists.

“It did, but it’s not making me forget about those that I’ve made recently,” he smiles. “Is that why you’re upset? That I left with her?”

“No I-I...ugh it’s dumb honestly.”

“I doubt it is. Tell me.”

Sinking down nearly hiding your whole body under the sheets, your groan nearly makes him laugh as your eyes and top of your head peek out from the covers.

“I’m not upset you left with her, I just..started thinking that maybe what you had with her would make you want to go back. Which I would completely understand, I mean I’m sure you guys have a lot in common, plus bottom line it’s your choice-,”

“Y/N,” he interrupts pulling the cover down to see your nervous face. “Yea Sharon and I have things in common and had a good time together, but in the end it didn’t work. Nothing against her, but going back is the last thing on my mind. Especially since something new has taken up most of its space.”

“The Avengers,” you answer making him chuckle.

“Not exactly.”

Leaning down, his lips approaching yours tell you what, or better yet who, he was actually referring to. His minty flavored lips molding with yours as your hand finds the back of his neck, his hand on your hip moving you over to make room for his larger body causes you to giggle momentarily breaking your moment.

“Um you’re on my side of the bed..,” you smirk.

“Like you really care,” he smirks back playfully nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “As many times as you’ve wandered over to my side.”

Meeting his lips one last time, you both settle in your usual positions with his face lying in the crook of your neck as you raked through his hair with legs tangled together. Although Steve would surely be sound asleep at any moment from the gradual slowing of his finger mindlessly drawing near your shoulder blade, you didn’t know if you’d be able to having his words replaying in your mind.

“I’m really always on your mind?,” you whisper, more so speaking out loud in disbelief than expecting an answer.

“All day and night,” Steve groggily answers with sleep already set in his voice before he pecks along your collarbone.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found on masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[prongsies]

Helpless

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader, James Potter x Reader SUMMARY: Sirius loved you. Loved you enough to let you go. Loved you enough to selflessly step back, allowing you to love someone he knows could give you the love you deserved - even if it hurts. WARNINGS: Mentions of death and the war, language; angst A/N: This is loosely based on Hamilton’s “Helpless” I hope you like it xx. ________________________________________________________________

The Frank-Alice Wedding was in full swing as the sun was setting outside. It was an exclusive celebration, a rushed one. With the war going on, and more people being killed as each day passes, it was no question why a lot of people were getting married - wanting to regard each other as husband and wife, with the uncertainty of the events tomorrow.

Everyone in the Order of the Phoenix was invited - the marauders, Lily Evans, Mad-Eye Moody. It was intimate, full of people trusted by the newly-weds.

Sirius was on his second glass of firewhiskey when you entered, immediately being greeted by Lily as you walked in in your dark blue dress. He had been leaning against the wall, watching James force Remus to dance with him in the middle of the room when you entered.

No one was sure if you were able to come, since Dumbledore had sent you on a mission a few days prior, so your presence was definitely a surprise to everyone - especially Sirius.

He had been so worried about you every since you left on that mission alone. He knew you were beyond capable of defending yourself, but that tinge of wondering where you were, how you were, never left his mind. 

You had known each other back at Hogwarts, him being a Gryffindor and you being a (y/h). You were great friends, even if you’d only gotten to know each other in your seventh year. You knew Remus as well, from the amount of times he had to tell you off for roaming the halls after lights out, but you never got acquainted with James.

Maybe because it was his final year and he worked to get at least one date with Lily before they all graduate - which obviously, didn’t work out. 

Sirius, though, had quite a reputation with women then. He was handsome, no doubt, but he had issues with commitment. His lack of ability to maintain a relationship for longer than a month caught up to him. Soon enough, no one wanted to be with him - preferring to just admire him from afar.

That doesn’t mean he’s incapable of loving someone though - that someone being the girl catching up with Lily Evans and Alice Longbottom as they swayed to the music. He never got the chance to tell her, and probably never will. The war is hard, no doubt, and Sirius - he just doesn’t know what to do if anything happened to him after all this.

Surely, he didn’t want to break anyone’s heart.

Fuck it, He thought, peeling himself off the wall with his glass still in hand. If anything happened to me, I want to die a happy man. i want to die without repressed feelings - without regrets.

He made a beeline towards the girl, heart pounding in his chest as he neared her. He was sure he had waved Peter off, who tried to converse with him, but he didn’t care. He was a man on a mission - a mission to finally let go and allow himself to love.

That was, until, a hand stopped him. He turned to see James, a smile on his face with his brown eyes twinkling as he looked directly at Sirius. He looked out of it to Sirius, and he was getting worried someone had slipped something into the boy’s drink, when he spoke.

“She’s the one” The bespectacled boy stated, eyes still twinkling at he stole a glance towards someone behind Sirius.

Sirius followed his gaze to see him staring at Lily. Confusion washed over the older boy as he looked back at James.

“Prongs, I thought you were over her?” He asked, feeling his hands clam up as ideas started popping into his mind. He wished his intuition wasn’t right as James glanced again, eyes still holding the same expression.

That was until Sirius understood. He stared back at his best friend, frowning upon realizing that his eyes held helplessness - that he wasn’t looking at Lily, but at you. He swore his heart broke in two, now realizing that he was being asked by the universe to choose - to choose between his own happiness or James’.

James had given him all the happiness he has right now - he gave him a roof over his head when his family had disowned him, more than enough food and money the first few months he was cut off financially, and most importantly a family. James had been his family - he had shown him what it feels like to be loved.

Sirius felt stuck. Confused. James - James deserved the world. He knew James loved to love and- and he deserved to feel loved as well. Between them, James had always talked about wanting a family in the future, wanting to get married and grow old. He had never been in a relationship, after all he had spent his time chasing after Lily. And the mention of settling down had brought Sirius into a laugh then. 

But now, now with James staring back at him with helpless eyes. Now when there’s a war going on outside. Now that James had expressed his worries about dying before he even got to experience having a family of his own. Sirius had made his decision.

His heart clenched as he nodded towards his best friend, releasing himself from the grip he had been in to approach the girl he had been dreaming off since seventh year.

“Sirius!” You greeted, immediately pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist, savoring every moment he got to touch you. You had been friends for so long, having feelings for him when you were younger, but giving up when you realized he wasn’t interested in anything serious - far different than the kind of relationship you longed for.

“I didn’t think you’d make it” he said when you pulled away, eyes looking glazed over and unfocused. 

“I didn’t think so too” You giggled, before looking at Alice with a grin, “I couldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding, though”

He pulled you out of your gaze at the call of your name, “I’d like you to meet my friend, James”

“Ahh” You grinned, looking up at the boy who towered over you, “The infamous James Potter. Name’s (y/f/n) (y/l/n). Lily has never failed to mention how much of a prick you were”

Lily laughed from behind you as she led Alice back towards the dance floor, pulling Remus and Peter along. You were left alone with the two of them, smiling up at Sirius who gave a tight-lipped smile back.

“Anyway,” Sirius said, sharing a look with James, “I’ll leave you to it, I suppose” He looked at you, forcing a smile out, thankful you were unaware of how painful it is for him to leave, “It’s nice to see you, (y/n). Really”

Without another word, he left, returning to his spot leaned up against the wall as he watched you and his best friend interact. The firewhiskey in his system multiplied as he watched you and James inch closer and closer together - watched as James wrapped an arm around your waist as you laughed at something he whispered in your ear, watched as you bid Frank and Alice goodbye earlier than everyone else, disappearing out the door with James.

It pained him. It pained him to practically give you away to his best friend, to pretend that he’s never loved you. It pained him when you got married, when you announced that you were pregnant, when you hugged him as you asked him to be the godfather of your child.

It pained him to see you there, lying on the cold floor beside his best friend, risking your lives to protect the most important one in yours - Harry. 

He cried for the first time in years that day, as he hugged the only two people he’s ever loved in life. Cried as he was forced by Dumbledore to take his godson and hide. Cried in your funeral as he made his eulogy, honoring your deaths, how he loved you.

He cried as he was handed a letter by Remus with a smile of pity, wrapping an arm around him before he took Harry from Sirius’ arms to give him time to read - time to mourn. It was a letter from you, dated a few days before yours and James’ deaths.

Dear Sirius,

Word has gotten around that You-Know-Who knows where we live. Dumbledore has borrowed James’ invisibility cloak, which is very untimely since we’re being hunted down. I have a feeling my days are limited, and as much as James had told me not to think about it, not to worry, I can’t seem to let it slip my mind so I wrote you this letter in the event that I die.

I never told you I’ve loved you before - back at Hogwarts when you were quite the heartbreaker. I loved you, but I was discouraged because you weren’t looking for anything serious - despite your name being so - Haha!

The day you introduced me to James was the happiest of my life. Sure, I haven’t really gotten over you at that point, but I slowly did as James and I got to know each other. I mentioned my feelings for you to him before, and he told me he couldn’t blame me for having them - that what matters most is that I love him, wholly. And I do.

If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met the love of my life. I wouldn’t have had a family as beautiful as James and Harry. Thank you, Sirius, for everything. I didn’t have the chance to thank you properly all these years, I hope this letter is sufficient.

With love, (y/f/n) (y/l/n) - Potter

Sirius loved you. Loved you enough to let you go. Loved you enough to selflessly step back, allowing you to love someone he knows could love you that much in return. Loved you enough to watch in the sidelines as you marry his best friend. Loved you enough to raise your child - your child who has your eyes, who looked a lot like James - your child whom he now loves as his own. He loved you, and he still does, and that’s all that matters.

[coepiteamare]

i am your ocean (your little mermaid)

pairing: taehyung x female!reader genre: angst? warnings: angst, implied sex, lapslock, broken hearts word count: 1.8k

drabble series: things you said: things you said too quietly summary: perhaps you’re fated to love him like the little mermaid, forced to pick between a broken heart and shattered one. (alt. everything blurs into a haze of heartbreak in the presence of tears.)

the pitter patter of raindrops against your windowpane, against the floor of your balcony, picks up in speed, blurring the view outside into a haze of lights, nondescript storefronts and smudges of colour from umbrellas as people avoid the rain. you watch the rain collect on your window, reaching out for other droplets and merging into one, picking up speed before falling when the weight of water is too much to bear. 

it makes you think of the little mermaid. 

the little mermaid was always your favourite disney movie. at age 5, it’s because you believe love conquers all, because you cry tears of crystal fairytales and bleed happy endings. at age 8, it’s because you too would give up worlds and your voice for a chance to meet the person you love. they’re out there somewhere, maybe separated a world away, but they’re there and one day, you’ll break barriers between worlds to hold their hand. at age 12, it’s because her hair is as red as her passion, burning bright against the blue sea as she cries “but daddy, i love him!” at age 16, it’s because you finally come across the original tale, learn how the little mermaid never gets her happy ending because she falls in love with a man engaged—in love with another woman—and despite her life on the line, refuses to give up on the idea of love. instead, she plunges a knife into her broken heart, hears the sad eulogy in the melody of his heartbeat entwined with someone that isn’t her, throws herself into the ocean and seafoam she becomes, each faint pop of foam a whispered reminder that for some, happy endings don’t come true. at age 16, you learn that sometimes love does not save you from the waves of reality, that some fates were written to end unhappy.

it feels a little like that now as you card your fingers through his sweaty locks, dyed red like ariel’s, bright red against the blue of both your feelings. “reminds me of the little mermaid,” you tell him, fingers gently brushing against his face, down his neck, back up to his hair. the breeze from your window settles into a cool chill on your skin, so you wrap the blanket around your naked body a little tighter and cling a little closer to his body, skin warm and still slightly sweaty. 

it feels a little like love as his chuckle reverberates through the mattress and through the crevices of your bones, low and dark, void of humor. “not what i was going for, but i’ll take it.” 

his hand settles on the small of your back, his face brushed with the white glare of his screen. 

“do you want to talk about it?” you rest your chin on your arms above his chest. he momentarily shifts his gaze from his phone to you, eyes just as dark and stormy as the sky outside, and you pull your gaze away, an attempt to stop the swell of feelings you catch every time he throws a glance in your direction. you place your ear down instead, listening to the staccato of his heartbeat, just as bruised and battered as yours. 

his sigh floods the air as he taps two fingers under your chin, a silent request, and you gently push yourself up to meet his lips. 

he tastes like heartbreak and bad decisions, like half-assed texts and read receipts, but when he kisses you like this—soft and slow and sweet, all adagio against the speed of the city—the storm of your thoughts come to a halt. he makes it hard to not dive in headfirst, let the waves float with the waves away from shore. you sink into the kiss, lose yourself in the press of his tongue, distill the buzz of insecurities in the rush of your feelings. you let yourself forget that you aren’t her; instead, you submerge in the moment and feel the world dissolve on your skin as you pull him a little closer, closer, until the two of you are pressed skin against skin, space nonexistent as the kiss gains momentum. 

until he gently drags his teeth against your bottom lip and pulls away, breaks surface tension, leaves you stranded in the sea of his being, shore miles beyond reach without a life preserver to cling on to. 

you repeat the action, bite your lip between teeth to prolong the moment, drag every second to be longer. but time still slips between the cracks of your desperation like sand, filters through the fissures of your insecurities, and spirals out of your grasp faster. you’ve already lost him to the vibrations of his phone, a text message that lights up his eyes. 

you brush your thumb against the hickey on his neck and feel the sadness crash over you, a loud tidal wave of quiet resignation: you can mark him all you want, but he’s not yours. never was, never will be. 

but you, you are his. your heart is tucked behind your ribcage, but it beats for him.

because it’s so easy to love taehyung who feels things like the sea, wide and vast and open. taehyung who smiles like the sun on the horizon, warm and fuzzy and beautiful, always beautiful and always out of reach. it’s hard to not, even if the only times he comes over is when you ask, painstakingly typing over (and over and over) only to end up with the same message of, “hey can you come over?” even if he never stays long. even now, as he picks his clothes off the floor, slipping long legs through black pants and popping his head through a gray hoodie. 

“not staying?” you sit up. it’s habit to ask at this point, even though you know the answer, know the sheepish smile and shrug of his shoulders a little too well, his mannerisms pressed into the mold of your thoughts. 

“sorry,” he sounds apologetic, but you know he isn’t. 

you know you won’t be the person he searches for in the sea of people, the person he spends his heart on, even if you spend every last cent, every wish, your everything on him. you won’t be her. but you peek your hand out of the covers anyways and reach out, grabbing on to the edge of his frayed hoodie. he turns around, eyebrow raised.

you open your mouth, but the words sink into your thoughts, distort like it’s filtered through water, and everything catches in your throat. it’s quiet: the pitter patter of raindrops against the windowpane, against the balcony floor. 

stay with me.

you feel his eyes on you as you drop your gaze to the floor, to the toes peeking through the sheets your body is wrapped in, hand still gripping his hoodie. 

don’t leave me here alone. 

maybe your last page doesn’t end in happily ever after. 

do you wish i were her?  

“do you think the little mermaid was a fool for keeping her feelings to herself, not letting him know she loved him?”

he furrows his brows, mouth quirked in confusion. he mulls over it, chews on your words until the thoughts burst on his tongue. “i think she told him in the ways she knew how, in the ways she could.” he gently pries your grip off his sweater and holds your hand in his, mindlessly rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “i think people in love are always expressing their love in one way or another. the other person may be oblivious to the intention, but i don’t think it goes unnoticed.”

“was she a fool for falling in love with someone already in love with another? for choosing them over herself?”

he chuckles softly, bemusement in every rise of his chest. you watch as he gently lets your hand go and tucks it neatly on your lap. “i think we’re all fools when it comes to love, but there’s no pause and play button, is there? we don’t really get to choose to whom we fall for or when we stop.” he squats down to eye-level as he drapes your duvet over your shoulders, fiddles with the edge, eyes never meeting yours. “but i do think she chose to do what she thought would hurt her less. she wanted to stay by his side, even if it hurt to see him with someone that isn’t her: it broke her heart, but i think it would have shattered had she stopped his. there are fates worse than death.”

the room floods with the sound of raindrops picking up in speed, pelting against the windowpane, against the balcony floor. the quiet settles around the two of you, just as thick and heavy as the duvet on your shoulders, and the two of you stay like that awhile, lost in thought. 

there’s a ghost of a hand on your shoulder, a slight squeeze, before he plods towards the door. 

you are the casualty from casual relationships, a willing prey caught in the trap of a hunter unwilling to kill. there is no pause or stop button in sight. no end to your story, no matter how many pages you turn. 

you turn your gaze to the window. the raindrops cling to the window, becoming bigger and bigger. they tremble to hold on, to stay together, before collapsing, dispersing back into tiny droplets. they then repeat the process over and over and over again, tirelessly building before breaking apart. 

“i love you” you say quietly. you let the words fall from your lips, dribble down your skin like water droplets, and dissipate in the ocean of your feelings. watch them dissolve into the seafoam of your being and sink down, down, down. 

the wind doesn’t have a chance to deliver your words, message drowned in the sound of the rain coming from your open balcony. you see his reflection through the mirror--the way he shoves his feet into his slides, sticks his hands into his pocket--and watch him close the door, never once looking back. 

everything blurs into a haze of heartbreak in the presence of tears. 

you let your body fall into your mattress, pinned down by your feelings, and curl up, wondering if this is what the weight of her knife felt like. maybe he was right in that there are fates worse than death. perhaps you’re fated to love him like the little mermaid after all, forced to pick between a broken heart and a shattered one. 

the enfilade of rain continues and pelts against the windowpane, against your balcony floor.

A/N: this took me 2 weeks to write for no reason other than i am dumb. i find it hard to write for tae: i’ve scrapped and rewritten this story thrice (it initially was supposed to be an actual little mermaid fic, then it changed to a siren fic, then it became this.) i still feel a bit iffy about it, but i’ve also looked at it for too long AND i have quite a few darlings in this one, so up it goes. idk why i’ve decided christmas/christmas eve is the time to post angst, but here it goes.

[queenbirbs]

waiting for rain | Ethan x MC

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,786

Summary: After the funeral, Sloane catches a ride. Post chapter 11. 

------

It’s a beautiful day. 

The last week has been nothing but blue skies and balmy temperatures, with autumn peeking its head around the corner. The city is lovely anytime of year, but Boston thrives in the fall. The Common and adjacent gardens come alive in a spray of colors as the leaves change, the canopy dipped in orange and yellow and red. 

It feels wrong, then, that the day is so nice and bright as they trudge along the rows of graves and back towards Bryce’s car. Glancing over her shoulder, Sloane frowns at the swath of black as Danny’s family gathers around the grave to watch the interment. Their labored breathing and soft cries carry over the open lawn and down to the road. 

“What a shitty fucking day.” Jackie kicks at a pile of loose gravel along the pavement with her heel.

“At least the rain held off,” Sienna pipes up from where she’s slumped against the car. Clenched in her shaking hand is a gladiolus that Danny’s sister gave her from the casket spray. Noticing Sloane’s attention on the flower, Sienna traces a finger along the white petals with a wobbly smile. “I’m going to press it in my copy of The Secret of Ninradell.”    

“Nerd,” Jackie mutters, coaxing a tremulous chuckle from Sienna. 

Beside them, the doors unlock with a droning whir. The three of them pile into the back; Elijah and Bryce’s voices drift down as they approach. 

“You know, all those parking tickets you keep getting are starting to make a lot more sense now.”

“These hands are for performing surgical miracles, not parallel parking on an incline.”

“A kid with a learner’s permit could parallel park this, dude. Your car is the Chevrolet equivalent of a sardine can.”

“We’re well aware of that,” Jackie chimes in from the center seat. “So can you two hurry it up?” 

As Bryce helps Elijah into the passenger seat, Sloane catches sight of Ethan’s car tucked in along the other side of the access road. She caught a brief glance of him at the graveside service, but he disappeared into the crowd of mourners soon after her impromptu eulogy. The sun’s reflection on his windshield prevents her from seeing if he’s even inside. But then, a few cars down, Harper gives a little goodbye wave towards his car as she and Aurora reach her own vehicle. 

Sloane throws open the door. Jackie frowns and reaches out for her as she slides out. 

“Hey, what are you--”

“I’m going to catch a ride with Dr. Ramsey.” At the wave of worried expressions she receives, Sloane sighs. “I’m okay. I promise. You guys shouldn’t… I’ll see you at home.” 

With that pithy attempt at reassurance, she shuts the door and crosses over to the S-Class. The driver’s side window rolls down before she reaches it, revealing Ethan in his customary black suit. His striking blue eyes are tinged red -- a sight Sloane has become accustomed to over the last week when catching herself in the bathroom mirror. 

“Hi,” she says.

“Hello,” he returns. He glances down her figure, as if cataloging something, and then back up to meet her eyes. “Come on, then.”

“Thanks.” 

She crosses to the passenger side and settles into the seat, avoiding his curious gaze by feigning a struggle with the seatbelt. Thankfully, he drops whatever question is plaguing him and starts the engine. Within a few minutes, they’re cruising south down the highway. The classical station finishes its latest piece and the suave-voiced host segways into a round of commercials. When the local news spot starts, both of them reach for the volume button, their fingers bumping clumsily. Ethan reaches it first and turns off the radio, then reaches down to capture Sloane’s hand with his. He links their fingers and squeezes, once, then again, before resting their clasped hands against the leather armrest. His thumb makes easy, gentle strokes along her skin. 

Sloane eases back into her seat. The dull roar of the road isn’t enough to fill the aching silence inside her head. It makes her think of being back in that tented room, all alone, waiting to die. 

“The service was lovely, as was your eulogy.” 

“Sienna should’ve gotten to speak. She -- those were her words, all she could bear to write, but she asked… well, begged me at the last minute to say them for her.” 

“That was kind of you to do.”

Her eyes clench tight at his praise. She focuses on the measured sweeps of his thumb, but all the bitterness in her chest keeps building and building until it bursts free. 

“It should’ve been raining. Why was it… why did it have to be so sunny today? It should’ve rained. He deserved that much, at least. He was one of the only staff on my side when Landry was trying to sabotage me. He didn’t need proof or need to hear my friends vouch for me. He just believed me, straight up. And he was so sweet, and so kind, and so funny and now he’s dead, and I know we took Lasagna’s oath to not play God, but if I could, I would bring back Travis just to kill him for all the hurt he caused, and I know that goes against every--”

“Hey.” Ethan glances up from the road and over to meet her watery gaze. “It’s all right. You’re allowed to feel angry, and hurt.”

“I know,” she says, but it still feels dirty, somehow, to agree. She survived, didn’t she? Why should she get the privilege to fall apart at the seams when two people are dead and buried six feet under? 

She keeps quiet for the rest of the drive. Unfortunately, it’s a rather short one, what with the cemetery being only twenty minutes north of the city. All too soon, they’re crossing the Tobin Bridge. The city skyline crowds the horizon, stacks of gray and glass forking up into the cloudless sky. Ethan takes the wide curve of an exit that crosses the Charles River and into the tunnel, down below the blue blood streets of Boston. As he prepares to merge over to take them towards her apartment, she squeezes his hand to grab his attention. 

“Can I…?” she trails off, regretting how weak the request sounds. She bites back a relieved sigh when he pulls his focus away from the side mirror and over to her. 

“Of course.” 

They make their way through the ever-present downtown congestion before he turns down a side street and into his building’s garage. Neither speak as they exit the car. His hand finds hers once more as they step into the elevator. Jenner greets them at the door with her favorite stuffed duck, insisting on meeting her quota of belly rubs before allowing them entrance. 

“Would you like a drink?” Ethan asks as he steps over the sprawled form of his dog with practiced ease. 

“Yes, please.” 

After a few more pats, Sloane wanders over into the kitchen. Ethan’s suit jacket lays slung across the island, a more telling sign of his mental state than anything visible on his face. His tie joins the pile as he pours them both several fingers of scotch. She takes the tumbler and knocks it back, ignoring the fierce burn at the back of her throat; she hands it back for a refill. 

“Fine,” he sighs, “but this isn’t a jello shot at some tiki bar in Panama City Beach.”

“I wouldn’t know, seeing as I spent my spring breaks waiting tables,” she mutters against the rim of her glass, taking a small sip at his behest. 

“I hated every second of it, if it’s any consolation.”

The murmured confession draws her up short.

“Wait -- you were a PCB spring-breaker? You? The man who can’t name a single artist on the top forty hits? The person whose idea of a good time is reading the green journal and annotating the margins with all the mistakes?”  

“I don’t see how knowledge of Harry Mars’s discography would increase my enjoyment in life.”

Sloane’s face breaks into a grin at the name faux pas, prompting a scowl from him. “What? You said it yourself that I don’t know--”

“No, no, ignore me. Go on.” She rests her hip against the counter. “Please tell me about how you wound up in Florida for spring break.”

“It was Tobias’s idea, actually. He told me we were going to a medical conference in Atlanta. It wasn’t until we passed through Atlanta and he showed no sign of stopping that he told me where we were actually going. By that point, it was far too late to request he turn around. I was, in effect, doomed.”

“Doomed to spend a week at the beach. Poor you.” Rolling her eyes, she knocks her elbow into his side. “Did you at least have some fun?”

“I did. Well, after I went into a store and bought some more... appropriate clothing. Everything in my bag was pressed khakis and polos.” 

Her mind immediately conjures up a younger Ethan, wearing board shorts and flip flops in whatever searing color the local beach shop sold. 

“There has to be pictures, right? I’ve met Tobias, he’s too much of a snake not to have snapped a photo or two.” 

“I’m sure he does,” Ethan agrees. “For blackmail purposes, of course.” 

“And here I was hoping that our time in Miami was your most memorable trip to the Sunshine State.”

“It was.” The weak little smirk she wears disappears, folding under the intense scrutiny of his gaze as it rakes across her. “Why did you ride back with me?” he asks. 

“Because Bryce’s car is ‘the Chevrolet equivalent to a sardine can,’ according to Elijah.” 

He doesn’t acknowledge her lame attempt at brushing aside the question. When the silence grows too long between them, Sloane drags in a shaky breath and caves. “Because being around them, having them dote on me and worry about me, it’s… suffocating. And not because I don’t love them, or appreciate them, but I don’t… I don’t see the point. They should be able to grieve without me burdening them.”

“Sloane.” The way he says her name with all the care in the world drives that guilt deeper. She wants to shrug away his hold on her as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, but she doesn’t. She sinks into his embrace, breathing in the scent of his cologne, feeling the thud of his heart against her cheek. “You are not a burden.”

“Hearing that and knowing that are two different things,” she points out. 

“Then I’ll repeat it a thousand more times until you get it through your thick head.” 

“I don’t know what to do. I’m sad, and hurt, and angry about Danny. He didn’t deserve what happened to him, and neither did Bobby. And Rafael, he almost died, and-- and I almost died. And I’m sad, and hurt, and angry about that. But what gives me the right to feel that way, when I got to live, and they didn’t? Danny, he… he begged Travis to let us go, and all I did was stand there. I fucking stood there and let him kill my friend.”

She doesn’t notice the tears on her face, not until Ethan catches them and wipes them away. “And even after you came in, even after I was wheeled out and got to see Kyra, even after I was discharged, there’s been this crushing weight on my chest. I even wrote goodbye letters on my phone, but I can’t bring myself to delete them. Because what if we’re wrong? It’s like… like what if my body suddenly rejects the antidote and I’m back in that bubble? Like I’m going to wake up and be back in that room, as if this is all a last-ditch effort my brain has conjured up to help me cope with dying.”

Ethan makes a pained noise in the back of his throat. Gathering her impossibly closer, he presses his lips to her hair. 

“This is real. You’re okay. You’re safe, Sloane. This is real.”

“But I don’t want it to be. I want it to all be some sick dream. They wouldn’t’ve even been there if it weren’t for me. If I hadn’t stolen the senator from Mass Kenmore, Danny and Bobby would still be alive. I just… I want to go back. I want to order them all out of that room before Travis ever gets his hand on that canister. If I could trade places with them, we wouldn’t be burying our friends.”

“You’re wrong,” he tells her. “If you were the only one in that room, we’d be burying you. And after coming close to such a thing, it isn’t a reality I’m ever willing to face.” 

Sloane shakes her head as the tears come faster and faster, her body trembling against his. She feels as if she’s drowning, but her head’s above water. 

“The responsibility for what happened lies solely with Travis,” he tries to assure her. “He’s the one who pulled the trigger. He’s the one who was determined to get his revenge, no matter who got caught in the crossfire. He admitted as much to me in his last moments without an ounce of regret.”

“Ethan, I…” her throat closes around the rest of her plea, but somehow, he hears the words. 

His arms loop around her waist, holding her up as her knees buckle under the sudden weight of her grief. His words become nothing more than soft murmurings as he picks her up and carries her off down the hall. 

In his bedroom, he sets her down on the bed. Kneeling before her, he picks up one foot and then the next, unbuckling the strappy heels she wears. Sloane leans forward and strokes against the grain of his stubble; she drags in a steadying breath when he leans into her touch. She reaches down for the hem of her dress, but he beats her to it. Raising her arms instead, she lets him slide the dark fabric over her head. He adds his own clothing to the floor, then joins her in his bed, his naked skin warm against hers. 

Under the covers, Ethan tucks her there against his chest. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his fingers tracing along her bare skin. It reminds her of that last morning they shared together, after the trial. The heartache now is different, vicious in that way only death can be. Sloane burrows closer, wishing she could bottle this feeling of safety and drink from it on the darker days ahead. 

“Yours was the longest,” she admits, her voice sounding small in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” he murmurs. 

“Your letter.” 

The line of him stiffens, his hand stilling its movement. 

“Hand me your phone.”

She rolls over and digs through the pile of their clothing, retrieving her phone from the pocket of her dress and handing it off to him. He holds it between them so she can watch as he navigates to her notepad app. The letters are all there, just as she said, in alphabetical order. She doesn’t miss how his thumb hovers above Naveen’s. 

“I asked him to look after you,” she explains, biting her lip against the rush of emotion at knowing the words hidden beneath the names. 

“When did you write these?”

Ethan’s eyes move from the screen and over to hers, tears collecting in the cradle of his lower lid. Her gaze never waves from his as she answers. 

“After you took Raf away. It… became real, after that. Not that it wasn’t real before, with Danny, but to see him fall into a coma right next to me was a wake-up call. I didn’t want that to happen to me. Not without being able to say goodbye to the people I loved.”   

Leaning across, he kisses her temple, and then her cheek, and then her lips. Then, with a few, quick taps, he deletes the letters and returns her phone. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. At her raised brow, he doubles down. “Not for-- that was for you. I’m saying thank you because you listened to me.” 

She snuggles close once more when he curls his arm around her and flashes him a curious smile. 

“Go on.”

“You didn’t give up,” he tells her, his voice gone thick with emotion. 

Between the sheets, her hand finds his.

“You didn’t give up, either,” she reminds him.

“On you?” he hums, pulling their linked hands towards himself to press a kiss to her fingers. “Never.”

------

Author notes and what-have-yous:

So, I learned that only eleven percent of medical schools still recite the Hippocratic oath verbatim, and about thirty-three percent use Lasagna’s modern oath (which is why I included it instead).This is coming from a few articles I read, all seemingly based in the U.S., so it may not pertain to every school. 

The ‘blue blood streets of Boston’ is pulled directly from a Bob Seger song, though there is a historical connotation behind it. 

The green journal is another name for the American Journal of Medicine. 

[myfavbau]

twisted fate (pt.3)

One week

Whenever they showed funerals in movies, it was always raining. Turns out that isn’t how it works in real life. The sun was out that day, and for some reason, that pissed Y/N off even more. It felt like today was a day the whole world should grieve. Today, it was commemorating a fallen soldier.

Everyone there was thinking the same thing - how they knew that dying in the field was a possibility, but they never thought it would actually happen. Not to them, at least.

Alas, here there were, dressed in black, standing in silence as the eulogy’s were read. Y/N had barely had any time to throw one together, and it was her turn before she knew it.

She cleared her throat before beginning to speak.

“Aaron Hotchner…

… was a good man. He was a good person. I had the privilege of working with him, of being his coworker and of being,” she stopped to take a shaky breath.

“-and of being his friend.”

“Aaron Hotchner was the kind of man they write stories about. He was a hero, in every sense of the word. He was a hero every time the world needed him to be one. And he has never let us down. Not once.”

At this point, she was sniffling so as not to cry, and she hoped the others couldn't tell. If they could, they weren’t doing anything to bring attention to it, and for that she was thankful.

After the eulogies, everyone came to drop off their roses. Little Jack was the first to place a single flower. He was too young to understand what had happened, as he sat in the arms of his aunt. One by one, each of the team members went to put their rose. Emily went first, followed by Rossi and Morgan. Penelope had tears streaming down her face when her turn came. Spencer held Y/N in a side hug as the pair approached the casket.

Y/N placed her white rose on the obsidian surface, before Spencer did his. Quietly, she pressed a soft kiss to her fingers before touching it to the sleek case.

Spencer rubbed her arm comfortingly, as the two walked away, hearts full of grief.

One Month

“You wanted to see me, Emily?” Y/N shut the door behind her as she entered Emily’s office. The Unit Chief invited her to sit down, and so she did.

“Yeah, I just wanted to check-in, see how you were doing,” Emily said to her. But what she was really doing was profiling her. It was Emily’s job to make sure each agent was capable in the field - both physically and mentally.

This concern did not go unnoticed by Y/N.

“Emily, I appreciate the concern. Really, I do. But I’m fine,” the agent assured her. It had been a full two weeks since she had resumed coming to work, and things were slowly starting to look normal. Y/N wasn’t really any less sad, but she had decided that staying at home wasn’t good for her. The not-doing-anything drove her crazy; she had already cleaned her apartment more times than was necessary. Her mind needed something to focus on, something other than the aching feeling in her chest.

She had even invited Spencer over a few times. Sharing her feeling with someone wasn’t something that came easy to Y/N, but she found it was comforting to know that there was someone there with her, even if the two of them were just sitting in silence.

Emily’s voice brought her back to the present.

“I know, I know. And you’re doing good. Strauss just wanted to check on the team individually, and I felt like you guys would rather have me do it. It’s my job to make sure I’m not putting you in any danger.”

“Yeah, I understand. I just want to be able to do my job.”

“And I know that you can. Y/N, you are one of the best agents in this field. But that does not mean that you cannot have weaknesses. We’re here for you.” Emily told her, looking in her eyes. She knew Y/N had a habit of keeping her emotions bottled up, but she wanted her to know that she had people she could depend on.

“Thanks, Emily,” Y/N said with a small smile. Prentiss nodded signaling that there was nothing else that needed to be discussed. Y/N got up and made her way to her desk, a determination in the back of her mind. She was going to find the man responsible for killing Hotch and she was going to take him down, no matter what it took.

Four Months

JJ rounded up everyone from the bullpen and called them into the conference room. Everyone took their respective seats, but they were confused. That was when Penelope pulled up two images onto the screen.

First, was a mugshot Y/N had become all too familiar with. It was the face of Ben Abner, also known as the Bombmaker. He was the monster responsible for the bomb that was under the SUV that day. He was the reason Hotch was gone.

She could feel her blood start to boil at the sight. She had been searching for a trail on this guy for months now but came up with nothing. Even the materials he used for his bombs could be traced; he was everywhere at once or nowhere at all.

The next image that came up shocked everyone. It was a picture of the Bombmaker, his body burned and badly scarred.

“What happened?” Rossi asked.

Emily finally spoke up. “This morning Saratoga Police found the body of a man who has positively been identified as Ben Abner, also known as the Bombmaker.”

“But… how?” Morgan inquired.

Y/N felt sick. She felt like she was going to throw up.

“Their forensics team found him in one of his safehouses. Apparently, he made a mistake when creating his most recent explosive.”

“So his greatest weapon is what ended up causing his demise.” Somone added, but Y/N could focus on who. She shot up from her chair and left the conference room. It felt like she was running out of oxygen, and her lungs were burning.

Somewhere in the distance, Spencer was calling after her.

“Y/N, are you okay? Hey, hey, look at me.” He placed his hands on his shoulders to steady her.

“I-I can’t.” She choked out. 

Spencer did some deep breathing with her before allowing her to stand on her own. She was still flustered, but the peak of her panic was over.

“I wanted it to be me. After everything that bastard did, I wanted to be the one to take him out. I searched for him for months - and nothing. And now he gets to die a quick death? It isn’t fair,” she spoke. Spencer could almost physically see the hurt in her words. He hated the man as much as the rest of the team, but he hated him a little extra from everything he had taken from Y/N, Spencer thought. He deserved to pay.

Spencer simply wrapped his arm around Y/N’s figure, allowing her to rest her head against his chest. The two stood, as their silence was enough to communicate what they could not.

Five months

“Morning Derek,” Y/N greeted as she entered the bullpen that morning.

Morgan spun around in his chair, almost in disbelief. This was the first time in months he had heard Y/N greeting him like that; he felt an immense sense of pride as he thought about how far she’d come. They’d seen some rough days these past few weeks, but it made him happy to know that she was finally starting to become her old self again.

“Good morning beautiful,” he replied, as he shot her a friendly smile.

The two walked over to the small kitchenette, chatting about their weekends as they went to make themselves some coffee. They laughed as they heard Spencer join the conversation with information on a book he’d read yesterday.

Things were finally beginning to look okay again.

Six Months

“Everybody, have a seat.”

“Why, what’s going on?” Penelope asked nervously. 

“Everything alright?” JJ added.

Everyone looked to Emily for answers. She stood by the evidence board, her face unreadable.

“Six months ago, I made a decision that affected this team,” Emily started. 

“As you all know, Hotch had lost a lot of blood after he was injured by that car bomb.”

The room was silent as they waited for her to continue.

“But the doctors were able to stabilize him and he was airlifted from New York to Bethesda under covert exfiltration. His identity was strictly need-to-know. And he stayed there until he was well enough to travel.”

 Y/N felt like time had come to a stop. This couldn’t be happening.

“He was reassigned to Agra where he was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for his security.”

Garcia spoke up. “He’s alive?”

“But we buried him,” Morgan said, his face a mix of confusion and hurt.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me,” Emily repeated.

“Any issues?!” Morgan asked incredulously. “Yeah, I got issues.”

The sound of footsteps could be heard as everyone turned their attention to the figure at the door. A familiar face showed itself, as Aaron Hotchner stood at the front of the room.

Penelope gasped.“Oh, my God.”

[baldrambo]

What do you think Hopper’s funeral was like? I’m kinda curious about whether or not that’s going to be addressed.

I am SO sorry for getting to this like 80 years after you sent it, lmao.  This was such a good question and the more i thought about it the more I got these clear images in my head of that day, and the more I wanted to just write it. I have 0 expectations that it will be addressed, honestly, SO here is Jim Hopper’s funeral service, told through the eyes of 4 non-Party members.

It was the last funeral, and by far the largest.  Karen Wheeler found herself thinking it was also the most beautiful.  She shifted her weight in her tall black heels and glanced around at the throng of solemn people in black.  The casket stood at the epicenter, a large block of shiny wood that shone brightly in the afternoon sun.  In a way, the symbolism of it felt silly.  There wasn’t a body.  There hadn’t been any bodies.

Attempting to banish the morbid thought from her mind, she glanced sideways at Ted who was staring solemnly at Pastor Charles.  Was he reading from the Book of Revelation again? She found it next to impossible to concentrate on any of the readings, anymore.  Ted had willingly attended every funeral with her, without complaint.  A fresh wave of guilt struck, and she swallowed.  Holley peeked over from her Dad’s arms, her large blue eyes carrying a new weight to them.  She was a kid now, not a baby anymore.  Karen reached over and gently caressed Holley’s cheek and that familiar, deep and abounding love for her children coursed through her like a powerful current. Karen wondered how someone could ever survive the loss of a child.

Karen turned to Mike, who stood stoically on her right, his hands at his sides like a soldier standing at attention.  He was staring over Pastor Charles, his attention on the trees in the distance, his eyes unfocused.  His mouth was set in a tight, straight line.  He hadn’t said a word all morning.  Hadn’t said a word since dinner last night.  The dinner table had been deadly silent, the new norm.

“I don’t want to go to the funeral tomorrow,” Mike spoke up, his voice eerily flat and quiet.  Karen looked up from her plate and squinted at Mike, confused.  “It’s the last one, Mike.  And it’s for the Chief.”

He clenched his fork in his fist and looked up at her, a strangely hollow look in his eyes that made her stomach start cramping up in knots.  “I’m not going.”  Karen looked over at Ted for help.  His attention was conveniently focused on Holley.  Karen put her silverware down, gently.  “I know this is upsetting for you, Mike, and….”

“No. No! You don’t know!”

“Mike...” Nancy reached over to put her hand over his and he wrenched it back standing up in his chair abruptly.  “It’s not like I actually wanted him to DIE!” He shouted, kicking at his chair. It went flying backwards, striking the wall.

Karen and Nancy both stood up.  Nancy stopped her.  “I’ll go.” She gave her mom a reassuring look, and wiped her mouth with her napkin, tucking her chair into the table neatly.

Nancy was standing at Jonathan’s side, leaning on his shoulder, her hand wrapped around his arm. Nancy kept sneaking glances at Jonathan, whose hands were in his pants.  Jonathan wouldn’t meet her eye, his attention fixated on Joyce who was staring ahead, stone-faced, at Pastor Charles.  Her face was still strangely devoid of emotion.  Will flanked her on the left, a head taller than her now. Clearly uncomfortable, he kept shifting his weight and looking over at Joyce, too.  

3 days after the fire, Will answered the door, his polite smile more a grimace. He stepped aside to let her in. Joyce was sitting at the kitchen table, a large ashtray full of cigarette butts in front of her.  She’d looked up at Karen, large, dark circles under her dry eyes.  “Thank you for stopping by.”  Karen nodded, watching the trail of smoke from Joyce’s lit cigarette float up towards the ceiling. Joyce redirected her attention to the ashtray, barely blinking. Karen looked nervously over at Will who gestured silently towards the front door.  Unnerved, she stopped in the doorway, turning back.  “If she is upset and needs someone to talk to….”

“She hasn’t said much since the fire,” Will interrupted.  “Thank you for stopping by, Mrs. Wheeler.”

Nancy caught Karen’s eye and gave her a small, sad smile.

Karen had thought, naively, after the fire, that they might, finally, trust her.  Trust her with this weight they carried with them, this weight that had been hanging around since that girl had made an appearance in Hawkins. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they knew, they ALL knew something she didn’t.  Even Joyce.

She glanced down again at Mike.  His lower lip was quivering.  Karen reached over and slipped her right hand into his.  He gripped it back, tightly.

***

Scott Clarke thought Karen Wheeler was still the most beautiful woman in Hawkins.  He watched her place her hand in Mike’s, her black dress effortlessly drawing attention to her slim figure.  She had been his first crush, he remembered.  She dated Scott’s older brother, Rob, when Karen and Rob were seniors in high school.  He had been in….6th grade? 7th?  It felt like an eternity.  A bead of sweat dripped down his neck in the heat.  He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his button down.

There were beautiful white lilies lying delicately on the casket and perched in small bunches surrounding the funeral attendees.  They were freshly picked.  Were they the Chief’s favorite flower? It didn’t seem like they would be.  He thought the Chief was probably the type to prefer wildflowers.  He thought he would prefer wildflowers at his funeral, too.

He would remember the morning after the fire for the rest of his life.  He woke up like any other summer day, fried 2 eggs, toasted two slices of bread, and sat down at the kitchen table with a fresh cup of coffee in his Friday mug.  His weekly copy of Science Magazine opened in front of him, he flipped on the news, prepared to ignore another day of local Indianapolis crime.  Within moments, his coffee and breakfast were forgotten.  Frantically thumbing through the prior year’s class roster, he stationed himself in front of the phone for the next 5 hours.  It was around three in the afternoon when he finally got off the phone with the Police Department and marked the last student on his list safe.  Moments later a sobbing Ms. Landon called.  Frank Rose in last year’s 5th period math class disappeared from the 4th of July Festival and was presumed dead in the fire. Scott had gone over and spent the evening with her.

Suddenly growing aware of the silence, Scott blinked, focusing back in on Pastor Charles.  He stepped aside to allow Flo from the Police Station to begin her eulogy.  Scott glanced around him at people growing increasingly uncomfortable in the heat.

Maxine Mayfield was conspicuously absent.  Scott hadn’t seen her since her brother’s funeral.

Lucas Sinclair stood adjacent to Scott, his parents behind him.  He fiddled with the buttons on his coat and his mother swatted at his hands, leaning in and whispering in his ear.  He stood up straighter and turned to his left.  Dustin and Claudia Henderson were standing beside the Sinclair’s, Claudia Henderson periodically blowing her nose loudly into her handkerchief. The boys exchanged a look and turned their attention another ten feet away to a handsome, familiar-looking older boy with longer hair.  The older boy met their gaze and shook his head slowly.  A warning.

It had been the boys that first made him suspect something else was going on.  

A few days after the fire, Scott reached up and knocked on the door.  Erica Sinclair opened it a moment later, staring up at him.  She put her hand on her hip.  “WHO are YOU?”

“Mr. Clarke.  I’m here to see Dustin and Lucas.”  Moments later he heard loud thudding on the steps and the boys appeared in the doorway, shoving a protesting Erica back into the house behind them, shutting the door loudly and standing up against it, staring awkwardly at him.

“I came to check on you, boys.  Dustin, when I stopped by your house your mom said you both had been at the Mall the night of the fire.”  The boys exchanged a worried glance and turned back to Scott.  Lucas grimaced.  “Yeah, we….we were there. It was….it was a really, really big fire.” “Huge,” Dustin interrupted.  “We were…we got caught in it.  But we got out.”  Lucas nodded along enthusiastically.  Scott swiveled between the two of them, skeptically.

“Anywayyyy, we better get back inside.  Almost time for dinner.  Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Clarke!”  Lucas called out as he scrambled for the doorknob.  “Yeah, thanks!”  Dustin scuttled inside after him, shutting the door abruptly.  

Scott looked down at his watch. 2:55pm.

The boys had stopped fidgeting and were focused on Flo now, their faces solemn. Scott looked back over at the older boy, who was staring up at the sky, as if he were trying not to cry.  Steve Harrington!  That was his name. He’d nearly flunked the boy in 7th grade. He had to be 17? 18 now? How did he know Dustin and Lucas?  Frowning, Scott turned back to Flo, who was struggling to finish her statement.  Joyce was standing just beyond the casket, as resolute as ever, the crowd of mourners centered around her and her sons.

Strangely, Scott found himself wondering if Joyce ever figured out what was wrong with her magnets.

***

If only the Chief were here now, Calvin Powell thought to himself, to see the entire town of Hawkins show up for his funeral.  He could just picture him blustering about the office with a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.  “Just bullshit obligation,” he’d mumble.  And if he knew Flo would be the one giving an impassioned eulogy on his behalf, he would be mortified.  Powell stared over the casket as Flo’s lilt carried across the field.  Well, the Chief could suck it. Because he’d gone and gotten himself killed, and now here they all were.  Without him.

Scott Clarke was standing straight ahead of him, watching over Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair.  There were some hardened people in this town, but that man certainly wasn’t one of them. He’d been on and off the phone with Scott Clarke the day after the fire.  That’s when he’d still been acting as de-facto Chief. Not anymore, of course. The Feds had seen to that.

Powell re-directed his attention to Flo as she walked towards him, wiping at her eyes as she folded her notes up and tucked them inside her dress.  He gave her a small, reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder as she stood beside him. Callahan was nearby with his young wife.   When the Chief took over, everyone figured he would make Callahan Deputy. He ruffled a few feathers by naming Powell.  He still remembered the Chief’s first week on the job.

“I already TOLD you,” Roger Walsh sneered.  “I’m here to talk to the Chief.  “Well I’m Deputy,” Powell cut in.  “So I’m here to….”  Walsh interrupted by sniffing and crossing his arms, his lip curling in disgust. “Deputy.” He clicked his tongue, staring Powell down.

Hopper waltzed into the station, his eyes red-rimmed, and headed over to the counter for coffee, ignoring the two of them.  “Chief Hopper,” Walsh interrupted him, uncrossing his arms. “I need to speak with you about….”  

“Talk to my Deputy,” Hopper interrupted, tipping his head back and swallowing a swig of coffee.  He turned towards the men, grimacing.  “I don’t have time for whatever *this* is today.”  Hopper headed past the men towards his office. “This is bullshit,” Roger cut in.  “You are the Chief, I don’t want to talk to this nigg…..”

Hopper stopped and swiveled, aggressively grabbing the man by the scruff of his shirt, pulling him forwards.  He smacked his lips.  “What?” He tilted his head, looking down at the man, his face stormy.  “Go ahead.” His voice was dangerously low. “What were you going to say.”  Roger gawked at the Chief, terror in his eyes.  Hopper let go and pushed the man backwards. “Get the fuck out of my station,” he growled.  “Powell, I don’t want to see him again.”

Flo nudged him sympathetically.  He was crying.  Powell sniffed, angry with himself.  He promised himself he wouldn’t do this.  Not here, not now.  The Chief wouldn’t want him to. He swiveled away from her, hoping Callahan hadn’t seen him.   Jonathan Byers was standing next to Pastor Charles now.  He was wearing worn down black trousers, his right hand resting in his pocket, a piece of paper in his left.  He took a deep breath and began reading.

The Feds had showed up within days, sauntering about the office arrogantly.  Powell wasn’t sure how a picture of Hopper’s dead daughter contributed to a federal investigation but then again, what did he know? He was just a small-town cop.

Jonathan Byers had chosen today of all days to demand an audience with Powell. He stood in front of the desk as Powell scooted his chair to the side for a man with dark shades.  The man looked up at Jonathan pointedly and then continued out of the office with a stack of papers from the bottom drawer. Another agent strolled in and also stopped for a moment to stare at Jonathan, recognition all over his features, too.This second man grabbed another box of papers in the corner.  

Powell opened his mouth to question the boy when Jonathan blurted, “Flo said you were helping her with Hopper’s funeral arrangements.  I want to give a eulogy.”  Confused, Powell frowned, scooting his chair back to its proper place. “Son, that is very nice of you to offer, but….”

“He was there for my Mom and I, when Will disappeared,” Jonathan interrupted, passionately.  “When NO ONE else was,” his voice broke and he looked away. Taking a deep breath, he looked back over at Powell.  “We’re the only family he has, now.”  Powell didn’t have it in him to say no.

Things grew quiet and Powell re-directed his attention to the boy, who was struggling.  He stopped to put his head in his hands.  Nancy Wheeler approached slowly and took his other hand, standing with him.  Jonathan got himself together and continued.  Powell glanced over at Joyce, who was staring down, her eyes trained on the grass.

Powell felt the worst for Joyce Byers.  Ever since Lonnie skipped town she’d been on her own, and she always seemed one bad day away from a breakdown. But the Chief had a way with Joyce.  Powell suspected the Chief had been sweet on her, he even teased him about it once.  “I was with her when we found Will in the woods. I’m just doing my job,” the Chief had shrugged.

As Jonathan finished up his speech, he walked back to his mom, hand-in-hand with Nancy.  Jonathan reached for her hand when Joyce turned away suddenly, retreating towards the parking lot.  The entire town watched her as she went.  As if she were the Chief’s Widow.

Powell never bought that the Chief wasn’t sweet on her.  Just like he never bought that Will had been lost in the woods, or the fire at the Mall was just a fire. But then again, what did he know? He was just a small-town cop.

***

Jane always came to visit, at least every two weeks, without fail.  But it had been a long time.  Too long.  Slowly but surely, Terry Ives built up her strength to go and find her daughter.

Terry squeezed her eyes shut, her daughter’s features coming into crystal clear focus.  She reopened them, pushing herself up from the rocking chair.  A bed lay fifteen feet in front of her, a still figure laying on top of it.  

Jane.  Her feet splashing in the inch of water that filled The Void, Terry approached the bed, her heart pounding.  Jane’s eyes were closed, and she stirred for a moment on the sheets. Asleep.  

Standing there for a moment, Terry sized up the faded green comforter and white bedframe.  This wasn’t The Cabin.  Terry kneeled beside the bed, water soaking through the bottom of her nightgown.  Faded tears stained her daughter’s sleeping cheeks and a beige shirt was folded in her arms.  A small patch on the arm read “Hawkins Police.”

Terry leaned forward and rested her hand on her cheek.  “Jane,” she whispered gently.  Her eyes fluttered and opened.  Jane blinked for a moment, confused.  Jane sat up slowly and looked around, still gripping the uniform.  “Jane!” Terry exclaimed, louder this time. El continued to look around the room, the confusion turning into despair.  “Mama?”  She whispered, clutching the shirt tighter.

Something was terribly wrong.  She could barely feel Jane’s energy, it was weak.  Too weak.  Terry rested her hand on her daughter’s cheek again, but she didn’t move.  Jane squeezed her eyes shut tight.  “Mama,” she murmured, and a soft sob escaped from her lips.  She pulled the shirt to her chest.  “I can’t feel you, Mama.  I can’t feel him,” she began to cry, her despondency like painful tendrils reaching into Terry’s own heart.

Horrified, Terry glanced around her desperately.  Why couldn’t Jane see her?  Why couldn’t she feel her? Something fuzzy beside the bed grabbed Terry’s attention. Focusing in on it, a small nightstand materialized.  It was adorned with a lamp, a clock, and a picture frame.  The frame included 2 small boys and a petite brunette woman.

The woman. The woman who came to see her with the Cop. Why was Jane in her house?

Terry heard a noise behind her and turned around slowly.  A small green car came into focus.  Terry took a few small careful steps forward.  The woman was resting her head on her arm, leaning up against the car. She was taking shallow, shuddering breaths, her tiny frame quaking ever so subtly.  In pain.  

She was wearing all black, standing in tall grass.  Not with Jane.  As Terry approached, the woman picked her head up.  Her big brown eyes were filled with tears.  She put her hands up to her eyes, dabbing at them carefully with the backs of her hands.  The grief etched into the lines of her face matched Jane’s. Taking one final deep, sharp breath she squared her shoulders and started walking away.

Terry watched her figure pass by Jane’s bed, fading away into a cloud of smoke. Where was the Cop?  Terry felt the beginnings of exhaustion creeping into her mind and she pushed them away.  She had to find the Cop.  She fought for a mental image of him.  Her mind was going fuzzy, Jane’s bed fading in and out like a t.v. station competing for a signal.  Panic creeping in, she squeezed her eyes shut, pushing for the memory.  Her breath grew raggedy from the strain as she opened her eyes.

Another bed began to materialize, this one without a bed frame, this one far, far away. Yet somehow so close.  Blinking, Terry slowly stepped towards it, the image continuing to cut back and forth with her daughter’s.  As she grew closer to him, The Void seemed to expand around her.  The air grew colder and her heart began beating faster.  Thump, thump, thump.  He was lying on his side, curled up in a ball.  Shivering.  Not safe.  She was a few feet away when his voice grew slightly stronger, his image momentarily clear.

“You don’t tug on Superman’s cape….you don’t….spit.  Into the wind.  You don’t pull…the mask off that old lone ranger…..and you don’t….mess around…..

….with Jim.”  The hopelessness and fear were so powerful, Terry nearly froze.  Mustering her last bit of strength, she reached for him.  Her hand closed over his.  Terry gasped audibly. “El?”  He whispered into the darkness.

And with that, he was gone.  Jane was gone.  Terry felt the sensation of falling, sharply, backwards.  She grasped for something, anything, in front of her as she fell, her hands closing around thin air.  She landed in her rocking chair, now frozen in place.

“Terry?  Terry!”  Becky leaned over her sister.  “Why is the lamp blinking, honey? What is going on?”

“Breathe,” Terry whispered. “Sunflower.  Three to the right, four to the left. Rainbow.  Four fifty. Breathe. Sunflower. Three to the right, four to the left. Rainbow.  Four fifty.”

“Terry, what is it?” Becky whispered, urgently.

Breathe.

[cherryblossomflowers]

An Old Life Meets A New (Pt28)

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter, Danneel x Stepdaughter, Jared x Niece

Warnings: Slight Cussing, Angst, Fluff, Death Mentioned, Car Accident Mentioned, Anxiety/Depression, Arguing, Panic Attacks, Yelling, Fighting, Sex Mentioned, Child Abuse, Drunk Abuse, Relationship Abuse, Alcohol

Summary: After the recent death of her mother, Harper must adjust to her new life in the Ackles home, this includes a new stepmother, half-siblings, and reconnecting with her father.

A/N: This chapter is very emotionally heavy. Grab the tissues, you’ll want them. ONLY 2 CHAPTERS LEFT!!! No hate on Danneel or Jensen please. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

*NEW CHAPTER EVERYDAY AT 3PM CST*

An Old Life Meets A New Masterlist

Chapter 28

Harper gazed mindlessly out the window as the cab drove towards the cemetery. Jensen would glance at her from time to time, but this is one instance he knew not to try and talk to her about.

Harper let out a deep sigh and asked Jensen, "Do you think Mom would've been happy to know you and I were talking again?"

Jensen smiled and looked out his window, "I like to think so, yes."

"Do you think she'd be mad that I flew here?"

Jensen chuckled, "Knowing her temper, she'd be furious. But if she knew your intentions, I think she'd calm down a bit. You'd be in a lot of trouble though."

Harper rolled her eyes, "Oh please. You act like I was a troublemaker growing up."

Jensen turned to her and gave her a look of Really? and Harper gave him a look of Try me.

The drive seemed to go on and on, but Jensen and Harper were talking and having a good time. They didn't even notice that the cab had stopped until the driver told them they had arrived.

Harper got out while Jensen paid for the cab, then he got out and walked over to Harper, who was having a hard time walking forward.

"Okay, now where is she?" Jensen asked.

Harper pointed to a corner of the cemetery, and they started walking. Jensen had a little more stride in his step while Harper seemed to be dragging her feet.

Jensen stopped and turned to her, "I can piggyback you, like old times."

Harper shook her head, "Sorry, it's just weird being here," she picked up the pace, "Even when I was here for the funeral, I left halfway through because I just couldn't be here. Then everybody came back to our house to 'give their condolences' to me, but I didn't want that. I just wanted to be alone."

Jensen wrapped an arm on Harper's shoulder as they walked, "And now?"

Harper sighed, "I don't know. I want to do this, but I feel like for some reason I can't."

"Well, say the word and we'll turn around and leave-"

"No," Harper hissed through her teeth.

Jensen pulled his arm away from her and slowed his step. Harper stopped and hung her head. Jensen walked up in front of her and bent down, lifting her chin to look at him.

"Harper, I'm here for you. And as much as you think you can't do this, I know that you can do it. All you have to do is walk over there, say what you need to say, and then we'll leave. Quick and simple," Jensen said with a smile.

A tear rolled down Harper's face, "But what if what I have to say...what if it doesn't mean anything?"

"No matter what you say, she will always love you. She'll always be right here," Jensen pointed at Harper's heart, "And here," he pointed to his own.

Harper smiled at her father, "Okay, let's go."

Jensen took Harper's hand and they walked to the back corner where Lizzy's grave was. Harper slowed her step again, but Jensen encouraged her to keep walking.

They got right up to the headstone, and the tears were flowing from Harper.

Jensen rubbed her back as he looked at the headstone, "Just do what you need to do, babygirl. If you want, I'll leave you two be for a bit."

Harper shook her head, "No, I want you here. You wanted to speak too, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I can wait until-"

"Go ahead, you go first then," Harper stepped to the side and allowed Jensen to step forward.

Jensen stuttered, "A-are you sure?"

Harper nodded and gestured for him to speak.

Jensen cleared his throat, "Um, hi Lizzy. Been a while huh? Like 7 years, last time I checked" he chuckled, "Listen, I know I wasn't exactly boyfriend of the year and definitely not father of the year either..."

Jensen looked at Harper and smiled before turning back to the headstone, "But I want you to know I cared, a lot. For you and for Harper. That day I met you at the make-up trailer was destiny. I knew that I loved you then and there, even if I did look like an Oompa Loompa on camera," he laughed, "But for real. You changed my life Lizzy, in more ways than one. I just wish things would've worked out at the time, but you wanted to go back to college and my acting career had taken off."

He crouched down and sighed, "Maybe if I didn't take the role in Supernatural we would've stayed together. Maybe if I would've stuck around more, you wouldn't have had to deal with Dennis, and Harper wouldn't have had to deal with him again today," a tear rolled down his cheek, "I messed up a lot, Elizabeth. And there are so many things I wish I would've done, that I wish I would've changed. Maybe if I did...you'd still be here."

Harper walked up to Jensen and laid a hand on his shoulder. Jensen looked up and saw she was also crying. Jensen put his hand on top of Harper's and sighed.

"I love you, Elizabeth. You've many great things in this world, but the best thing you ever did was bring Harper into this world. For the first 8 years of her life, I saw how much she was like you. And now that she's a young woman," Jensen stood and kissed Harper's temple, "She is more and more like you everyday. The way she acts, the looks she gives me. She has your beautiful brown eyes and your light brown hair, she's exactly your height. If I had to guess, probably the same shoe size too," he laughed.

Jensen hugged Harper tightly then turned back to the headstone, "All in all, Lizzy, you're an incredible person. And I'm thankful that I knew you. And that you gave me Harper. I love you, now and forever."

Jensen laid a hand on the headstone and let out a deep sigh. He took a few steps back and smiled.

Harper looked up at him and quietly spoke, "That was beautiful, Dad."

"Well, I spoke from my heart. And said all I needed to say," replied Jensen.

Harper turned back to the headstone while Jensen laid an arm on her shoulder.

"I think...I think I want to be alone...while I talk to Mom. If that's okay," Harper whispered.

Jensen nodded, "That's perfectly okay. I'll go up by the front gate. Take as much time as you need then come find me okay?"

Harper smiled and nodded as Jensen walked away.

She turned back to the headstone and sat down next to it. She pulled out her notebook and looked over the words she had written earlier. Then she thought back to what Jensen had said, I spoke from my heart.

Harper sighed as she stuffed the notebook into her backpack. She then brought her knees up to her chest, laying her arms across them.

"I had an entire eulogy written for you, Mom. But I honestly feel like none of it matters," Harper began, "I just feel like the last week and a half has been so crazy. So much has changed in that time. I moved in with Dad, I saw Danneel again after 10 years, I met my step-siblings for the first time, and I saw Uncle Jared again."

Harper couldn't hold back the tears anymore, "But it's really not the same without you here, Mom. I miss you, a lot. It's crazy that an hour before you died we were having a conversation about painting my room. We were going to paint it sky blue and I was going to paint clouds along the sky," she sobbed harder, "And it's crazy that an hour later your gone."

She wiped her face with her jacket sleeve, "Dad has been really trying though to help me adjust. At first it was really bumpy. I was scared being in a new place with new people. When I saw Danneel again, I got really scared. I was worried that she was replacing you right away. After we went shopping and she talked me into piercing my ears, we had a long talk," Harper smiled, "Mom, you two are so much alike. It's almost like...you are still living through Danneel somehow."

Harper looked down at her feet, "My step-siblings were a different outcome. I felt so upset that Dad never told me, but I see now it was because you told him not to tell me anything about Danneel or his family. At the time...I despised them, especially when they referred to me as their sister. But after I got to know them a little more, I realized they're not so bad. JJ is only 7 and the twins are 4, so it's hard for me to bond with them," she smiled at a memory, "There was one night that it stormed pretty badly. JJ came into my room and stayed with me because she was scared. I mean, I was too, but I felt like I had to comfort her because I saw myself in her."

Harper stretched out her legs and leaned back on her hands, "Then Uncle Jared came over and things were looking up. We talked for a bit, I told him how upset I was with Dad at the time," she cast her eyes down, "But things started to get bad. Jared and Dad had a talk, apparently about the day he left us. Dad and I had a little disagreement about what art is. I know you would've given it to him though," she chuckled, "Then I finished painting my room with a mural of Times Square. Dad found out and he was really mad. And that night..."

Harper had to stop as the memories of the night before started flooding in her mind, "Dad told me everything, Mom. How you forced him away just because he was having another family. That was really messed up, Mom. Dad could've stayed in our lives even though he had another family to go back to in Texas, you didn't need to push him away like that! Especially when Dennis was around. You and I both knew what Dennis did to us for those 5 long years was messed up, and you could've called Dad but you didn't. You should've done something sooner, but you didn't,” she paused to calm down a bit, “And I ran away after it all was said. I told Dad everything about Dennis even though you told me not to. He had a right to know. Dad had to beat Dennis up in Central Park today just to make sure he wouldn't hurt me again. And that could've all been solved if you just..."

She paused as she stood up from the ground, "But I'm not mad at you mom. I don't see you any differently for what you did. You're my mother. And I forgive you for chasing Dad away," she laid a hand on the headstone, "He was there though, Mom. He was always there for me. Just in mind, not physically there. He was thinking of me, I know he was. And I know he cares or he would've have came to New York to find me. I shouldn't have run away, and I know you would've been so mad at me if you were here. But I had good intentions. I needed to talk to you."

Harper took a few steps away from the headstone, her back to it now, "And now that I have...I feel a lot better. I feel like if you were here, you'd be so proud of the girl I'm becoming," she turned back around, "I think...I think I want to start taking art classes. Perfect my drawing skills. I want to continue to college after graduating High School. I don't know what I want to do yet, but I see a future now. And I'm going to talk to Jared about talking with a therapist. I think it'll help with the childhood trauma stuff. I'm going to fix my relationship with Danneel and JJ and Arrow and Zeppelin. I really want to continue fixing my relationship with Dad."

Harper began to walk away, "After all," she smiled, "He's going to stick around this time. For a while I hope,” she smiled, “I love you, Mom. I'll come back and visit someday."

Harper walked away from her mother's headstone and towards the entrance to the cemetery. She could see Jensen as she walked out of the cemetery. Jensen was currently on the phone, pacing in front of the gate.

He looked up when he saw Harper and quickly hung up the phone, "I promised Danneel I'd call you when I found you. But don't worry I didn't tell her about Dennis or about us coming to see your mom. I told her we'd be on a flight to Austin-"

Jensen was interrupted when Harper wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. He returned the hug with a chuckle.

"I love you, Dad. Thank you for doing this with me."

Jensen let a tear slide down his face, "Anything for you, babygirl."

They stayed like that for a moment before Jensen called for a cab. One showed up fairly quickly and Jensen instructed the driver to head for the airport.

They climbed inside, and the driver took off. Harper looked out the window at the cemetery as they drove away.

I'll miss you, Mom. Thank you...for everything.

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories​ @adorable-minibot​ @chessurkait​ @desiredposion​ @idksupernatural​ @thevelvetseries​ @spnfamily-j2

@let-me-luve-you​ @obsessedwithfandomsx​ @wecantgiggleitsafandom

@mangueweaschester​ @starchildwild​ @deans-baby-momma​ @spnbaby-67​

@unicornmadness2444​ @emery--nicole--morrison

[rocknrollmj]

Happy Birthday Part 2

A/N: I finally found a way to write this down, I hope that you like it. This isn’t my return to writing per se but I figured that you deserved a part two. Happy season 2 release day.

TW: mentions of death, not super serious.

———————————————————————

“Where’s Y/N?” Five asked. That question made the kitchen fall silent. No one dared to speak of their late sibling that they had all loved so much. The silence was deafening but it gave Five his answer.

“Oh, I see.”

———————————————————————

Vanya was the one who found him, staring at the portrait of himself that Reginald had requested 1 month after he left.

“Well nice to know that dad didn’t forget me.” He was trying to lighten the mood but it seemed as though it wasn’t possible. The two chatted for a while until they got to the subject of Ben.

“Was it bad?” He asked, Vanya nodded and he sighed. Two of his siblings were dead. Two of the sweetest, most kindhearted people in the universe had died. It wasn’t fair. He always knew that death never was fair, and he had grown to accept that, but not this time.

“Vanya, what happened to Y/N.” It was not a question, it was a statement. A demand for the truth about his siblings demise, there was no way to avoid it this way, she had to answer.

“They were down in the subway station late at night, there were two men fighting, Y/N was always a good mediator but it didn’t work this time.” Vanya’s voice became more and more shaky, she couldn’t look Five in the eye.

“They tried t-to stop them, but the o-o-one guy had a knife and he- he.” The words began to fail her, and they came out in the form of tears. Five was shocked, but he wanted more.

“What happened?” His tone slightly more dangerous.

“After the… after the knife what happened Vanya?” Through a pouring of tears she managed to get through the rest of the story.

“He realized what h-he had done and-and they both bolted, before anyone could catch them. Y/N tried calling for help but it was too late, he stabbed them j-just below their heart. The paramedics found them 15 minutes later, b-but they were gone.”

“We all searched for weeks for answers, leads, evidence, anything that we could find. But even between dad’s resources and Diego’s friends at the precinct, they had disappeared. Diego was so upset that he threw a staple gun at the police chiefs head, he nearly got arrested again.” Vanya’s tears had subsided for now, she gave a little chuckle at the end of her sentence, she knew that it was no laughing matter but she needed Five to know that they had tried to avenge you. That they had tried to find the man who killed you, because she knew that right now Five was angry. That he already had 5 different plans to find your killer and the bystander and make them pay for taking your life away before it had even begun. And she was right.

When she finished recounting the story she felt like she was going to collapse into a puddle. Those few months after your death were some of the hardest the family had gone through. Even though they hadn’t all spoken in years, you were always there for them. Sending them birthday presents or offering a shoulder to cry on.

You were there when Diego decided he wanted to try and get into the police academy, and you were there the first time he was arrested to bail him out. You were there when Luther was freaking out because he was going to the moon and was scared that he might not make it back. You were there when Allison announced her pregnancy to the world, she was so excited to be a mom and secretly planned to make you a godparent.

When Klaus first overdosed you were at the hospital by his side, praying that some part of his powers still worked despite all the drugs he had taken to get into this state in the first place. You were there at Ben’s funeral, you gave the most beautiful eulogy, everyone was focused on you and your words. You were there when Vanya asked you to go to her first therapy session with her, and you were also there when she first released her book.

Five of course didn’t know that any of this had happened, but even when you were kids you were there, whether he needed someone to rant to, read with or laugh with. You were there. And now you were gone. He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

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

After hearing about what happened to you he climbed the stairs to retire back to his room. He was angry, sad and alone. The last time he felt like this was when he realized he was stuck in the future, he felt stuck all over again. He knew that the apocalypse was coming, you were going to be the first one he told, but you weren’t here.

He opened the door to his childhood bedroom, everything was the same except for a pile of very old wrapped objects. He furrowed his brow, confused and walked into the room, closing his door. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed one of the objects, there was a small note on it, it read:

‘Happy Birthday Five! Love, Y/N 2014’

His heart nearly stopped when he read those words. These packages were all his birthday presents for the last 17 years, well 17 years for you. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very old and very tattered bracelet with a little 5 on it. He had hidden it away in case he had lost it on a mission or worse, The Commission found it and tried to dispose of it. He found the oldest package and began to open the gifts.

17 years of lost memories, gifts that had never been opened and time that he could never get back. But nonetheless he carried on, opening and unwrapping each gift, with care. You had gotten him so many wonderful things and he planned to use (and read) them all.

In 1999 you had gotten him a book on the theory of time travel, in 2003 you had given him an extended copy of each of the Lord of The Rings movies (the note mentioned how they had to binge it together.) In 2010 you had gifted him ‘A Brief History of Time’ by Stephen Hawking, in 2013 he received a book that had a detailed description about Doctor Who for the last 50 years (the note said that “10 and 11 make me laugh the most, but 9 reminds me of you”), he immediately made a mental note to watch all of it after he stopped the apocalypse.

And then he came to the last present. It was a very small box, the wrapping paper had not yet faded as it was only from a year ago. Hands shaking he read the note:

‘Happy Birthday Five! I know that you don’t like stuff like this usually but maybe you’ll wear it for me. Love Y/N”

He slowly tore open the wrapping paper and opened the small black velvet box inside. The box contained a small charm of a book that was on a long chain. He felt his eyes start to water but he refused to let the droplets fall. He took it out and placed it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt. He was never going to take it off.

But he had to do one last thing.

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

“Where are they buried?” Five asked getting straight to the point. The siblings, who had all gathered in the living room at this point, were shocked for a second. They had all forgotten how blunt he was.

“Where is who buried?” Luther asked.

“Y/N” again the room was silent, until Diego spoke up.

“Just down the road, in that old cemetery, the one with the creepy ass mausoleum.” Allison rolled her eyes.

“Don’t say that Diego, it’s not creepy.”

“Oh yes it is” Klaus said, suddenly looking paler than usual.

“Fair enough, I’ll be back. There’s something that I need to do.” Five started walking towards the door.

“What about dad’s funeral!?!?” Luther yelled at him.

“I’ll be there don’t worry.” Five responded, and the door clicked behind him.

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

He could’ve just teleported there but he wanted to walk. When he arrived at the cemetery, he found where you were and just stopped. Your name was on the gravestone that was right in front of him. You really were gone.

He went down on one knee in front of the rock that had your name chiseled in it and just started talking.

“Hi, I have a lot of things to say but not a lot of time to say them.” He paused, took a deep breath in and then continued.

“Thank you for all my presents, and your notes, I especially loved the one from 2000 ‘Happy Birthday, the bookshop owners now know my name thanks to you and your gifts.’ It made me laugh.” There was silence, he decided to sit down next to the gravestone, and continued talking.

“The world is ending. And that’s not just a figure of speech, the world is literally ending. I came back here hoping to stop it with you and Vanya and the rest of them, only to find out that… you’re not here. You’re not… here.” He felt tears start to well in his eyes, but he kept going, even though his voice was breaking.

“You were always there for me. For us ALL of us. And now you’re gone and that’s not fair… THAT’S NOT FAIR!” His tears had started to pour down his face and this time he let them.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW! YOU’RE GONE! YOU SAID THAT YOU WOULD ALWAYS BE HERE FOR ME BUT YOU’RE NOT! YOU’RE GONE! YOU LEFT ME!” He got so choked up that he had to take a second to calm down, and when he finally did he went on talking to you.

“Although I guess that I deserve it. I was so stupid, and I left you. I left you and you waited, you waited so patiently. Why couldn’t you have waited just a little longer, I was almost there. I almost found a way out, why couldn't you just stay out of it. Why did you have to be a hero? I guess you always were though.” He began to wipe away his tears and he chuckled a bit.

“You know I think that’s the first time I cried in over 40 years? You always brought out the soft side in me. I hated that about you. But you were always a good listener, so… thanks for listening to me now.” He got up to leave, dusting himself off. But before he left there was one more thing he had to do.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you” he could do this, he needed to do this.

“Happy birthday dear… Y/N… happy birthday to you.”

The Boy said goodbye.

@cheesiey @theambracer88

@leilanileemans @noriittheweeb @1985bitch

@lavender-writer @sparklydeanclampalace @emeliecyr @multifandomgirl16 @steampowerednightvaler @the-one-and-only-celine @ahwou @parkersinfinitywar @my-dark-happy-place @hailshurricane @multifxndom-umbrellxs @the-killer-queenie @rosehargreeves @georgique-unique @and-your-mother-that-slut @colourful48 @gabriella-superwholock-universe @give-a-rookie-a-cookie