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mistymark · 5 years ago

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VIGILANTE/S V

part five // 4.0k words // superpowered!au // (sort of) gang!au // series masterlist

summary; in which you consider yourself somewhat of a vigilante.

warnings; swearing, mentions of death, weapons and killing, gang shit really

notes; this is just a filler bc the whole thing ended up being way too long but !! hope u like anyway <33

One week into living in the warehouse, you’ve got your own routine. You know what times to avoid the bathrooms, you know not to eat Chenle’s cereal – a tip from Donghyuck, who informed you that Chenle once set him on fire for doing just that – you know that Jaemin is the only one who cooks breakfast, and most of the meals eaten in the warehouse are from local takeout stores with shifty delivery guys. You know that 15 pizzas are ordered for one meal – because Jaemin eats at least 5 of them.

“My metabolism is crazy,” he explains to you on your third day there. “I’ll be hungry again in, like, 2 hours.” Mark had laughed and said that was normal for anyone here.

Donghyuck had whispered to you, “Jaemin carries around jellybeans all the time for his blood sugar. If you want to piss him off, call him Jelly Baby.”

You know that every time Jaemin is given an assignment, he brings a girl back to the warehouse, something you’d discovered when you saw Jeno sleeping on the couch in the main room the next day. You know the boy named Renjun doesn’t train, and hardly leaves his room. You know that Donghyuck sometimes snores in his sleep, now that you’re sharing his room, which actually hasn’t been so bad.

Jaehyun had you move in together the day after you met him, and he’d been really nice about it, moving half of his clothes from his wardrobe so you had space, and boxing up most of his stuff to allow more space for your things. He’d even offered to take down his sketches and drawings so you had some wall space. It was a sweet gesture, but you found his posters interesting, so you told him to keep them up.

Doyoung had gone with you to empty out your apartment – not that it had much in it – and convince your landlord to break your lease. “Your landlord has a very weak mind,” he’d said in a monotonous tone, when he was carrying a box to his car, a flashy black thing that certainly did not belong in your neighbourhood at all. The dilapidated, crumbling buildings surrounding you were brown and dirty, the streets grey and filled with potholes, the people who inhabited the area looking just as worn. Doyoung, on the other hand, was clean and sharp, wearing fitted black jeans and a clean white tee. His shoes were almost as shiny as his car, which made you feel slightly self-conscious when you noticed how much he stood out here.

“He’s pretty much given up on life,” you’d agreed, which earned you a smirk from him. It was true, your landlord was a chubby, pot-bellied man who wore nothing but baggy, ill-fitting jeans and old t-shirts with various food stains on them. You’ve never seen him leave the building, and you often wonder if he knows what a shithole the place is.

“I can’t believe you actually lived here,” he looked up at the building, at the brickwork that was being held together by mould rather than concrete, at the wooden window frames that were rotten and splitting apart, at a window that was recently broken, now being blocked by a curtain taped across the panel – at the place you once called home.

Well, not necessarily. It hadn’t felt like home since your dad had died, if you were being truthful.

“You live in a warehouse with criminals,” you reminded him.

“We live in a warehouse with criminals,” he cracked a smile at you, taking the box from your hands and placing it in the boot of his car.

“At least my roommate only kills himself,” you mumbled on the drive back.

“Donghyuck wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Doyoung laughed. “He’d probably kill himself if a fly started a fight with him, just so he wouldn’t have to fight it and win.”

You watched the buildings go by – Doyoung drove slower than the elderly, you were sure – and all the industrial warehouses with cute, bright signs advertising children’s toys and courier services, wondering how many of them were a front for another operation, like Jaehyun’s. “Do you think Donghyuck can die? For real?”

Doyoung was silent for a moment, then, slowly, he said, “We have our speculations. We can’t know for sure, though. And none of us really want to.” You gave a small smile to him, though he was too focused on the road ahead to see it. When you’d first come to the warehouse, you were sure no one liked him, since no one seemed devastated by the fact that he was dead. Now, you knew he was family to them.

“You have a cassette player?” Donghyuck was supposed to be helping you unload your stuff into your now shared room, but he was mostly just being nosy, going through your boxes and not actually putting anything away.

“Uh, yeah,” you throw a glance over your shoulder, seeing Donghyuck sitting on his bed, rifling through one of your boxes. “It was my dad’s.”

He nods, gently putting it on the bed. He doesn’t ask any questions about it, or your family, which you’re grateful for, but it makes you think he doesn’t have any family of his own.

You know Donghyuck is the most open out of all of the team, but you also know not to ask any personal questions.

You know a lot of things after living in the warehouse for a week. You know that Jaehyun drinks tea in the mornings and coffee at night, that Doyoung cannot access Chenle’s mind. You know that Donghyuck is definitely not a morning person, and that he exclusively wears black, as if he’s always ready for a funeral. Maybe that’s exactly the reason; some kind of sick joke surrounding his immortality.

Most importantly, you now know how to survive Johnny’s training sessions. You’ve trained with most of the team, mostly the Shields – Jeno, Jaemin, Mark and Chenle – as their powers manifest physically, and are easier to control, but Johnny has also been helping you use his ability. “You’re smaller and weaker than the rest of the team, and most Shields in general,” he’d said, eyes roaming your body. It was the first time anyone’s ever looked at you like that without making you feel objectified. “If I’m around, my ability may be the difference in whether you win or lose a fight. Try again, and focus on me.” As if you already weren’t.

He’d hunkered down and gestured for you to begin. With the other members around, you could take Johnny down in less than a minute now. Alone, it took you upwards of 10 minutes.

The day you officially move into the warehouse, you’re exempt from training with the Shields, but Donghyuck takes the opportunity to teach you gunmanship.

“I’ve used a gun before, you know,” you say, but after 10 shots you still haven’t managed to hit the target. The firing range isn’t small, located in the basement of the warehouse, which you didn’t even know existed, but you should have been able to at least hit the target once.

He laughs, picks up the gun and nails the target’s centre 5 times in a row, “So have I. Do you want to be able to actually hit your target, though?” The hole in the centre of the target looks about twice the width of the bullet, made from the bullets hitting basically in the same spot each time.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, adjusting the position of your shoulders, then places one on your lower back, adjusting your posture. You’re stiff, and you know it. He clears his throat and steps back, “Go.”

You brace yourself and shoot, the bullet going straight through the target’s stomach.

“Not too bad,” he nods in approval, holding his hand out for the gun and easily changing the clip in three quick motions. He offers the gun back to you, “Again.”

“You sound like Johnny,” you say when you take it from him. You deepen your voice as low as possible to mimic your trainer and the short, efficient way he speaks, “Again. Stop. Go. Try again. Up.”

Donghyuck lets out a loud laugh that immediately brings a smile to your face. “That was amazing.” He sits down and leans back, a hand pressed against his stomach as he laughs, mimicking your imitation. You join him on the floor, resting your back against the wall and leaning over to grab the bag of potato chips he’d brought down with you. “Have you ever shot someone?”

He reaches over and steals a few chips, as if it was the most normal question in the world. But, there’s a slight shake in his voice when he speaks, “Shot? Yes. Killed? No.”

“Who?” He shoots you a sideways glance and you lower your head, “Sorry.” No personal questions.

The heavy stench of awkward silence settles over you. He breaks it, “Johnny.”

You don’t know what to say except, “Shit.”

“Yeah,” he swallows thickly. “It was an accident. Obviously.”

You’re about to ask what happened when you’re interrupted by someone coming down the stairs. Neither of you had bothered to shut the door to the firing range, giving anyone going up or down the stairs a full view of what you were doing. Jaehyun stops when he sees you both, sitting on the floor of the firing range, sharing a bag of potato chips. He doesn’t look at you, focusing on Donghyuck. He clears his throat, “Are you training, Hyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes are wide and innocent when he answers, “Teaching Y/n how to shoot.”

Jaehyun’s eyes move from the two of you to the target and back again, but he doesn’t say anything about the lack of holes in it. “Johnny’s ordering Chinese – if you want anything, let him know. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

He continues and you turn to Donghyuck, “Where’s he going?”

“Garage,” Donghyuck says, through a handful of chips. “Do you want the rest of these?” He offers the bag to you. You shake your head.

“What else is down here?”

“Weapons vault, garage, the range,” he answers distractedly, too focused on getting the last of the flavouring from the bag. “The gym…” his voice trails off.

When he’s satisfied that the bag is indeed empty, he stands up, offering his hand out to you to pull you up, “Jaemin takes ten minutes to pick what he wants to eat, so if you have a preference, we should probably tell Johnny now.”

You take his hand and let him pull you up, reaching for the gun that lays on the ground, “Where-?”

“I’ll take it,” he takes it, quickly turning the safety on and reaches around to his back, tucking the weapon into the back of his black jeans.

Your second day of training was with Chenle, in the gym, which looked more like the inside of an asylum than anything. Everything was clean and a pale, almost-white shade of grey, and the entire ceiling was a cloudy glass panel that illuminated the room, giving the room a bright and energetic yet sterile feel. The equipment was state-of-the-art, a dark contrast to the overall lightness to the room, and floor to ceiling mirrors took up two of the walls. There was a stack of clean towels in the corner, and a few televisions across the room, visible from each machine. A smaller version of the Super fight ring was situated at one end of the long room. Yet, the thing that shocked you the most was the bright blue flooring, an odd design choice.

Chenle was the least helpful out of the Shields in the team, watching you train with his ability, critiquing your control and your movements with a stern eye. “Wrong. Try again. Make it hotter this time, or you’ll do no damage.” As if to gloat, he held a hand up, and a dangerous blue flame engulfed it. Your own flame, a measly bright orange, wavered.

The entire time you’d trained with him, he’d done nothing but glare and criticise you. You were sure he hated you, or maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t the only one who had his ability anymore.

Yet, as he was leaving to eat, he’d nodded in approval at you, “Good. We’ll train together again soon, I’m sure.” It was the most he’d said to you. Actually, if you added up everything he has said to you, it would still be less words than were in that sentence.

Basically, he hadn’t spoken to you much all week.

Jaemin, however, was the opposite, and the person you’d trained with the day after Chenle. If anything, he was too kind and too understanding - he barely helped you.

“It’s okay if you can’t run as fast as me, yet,” he’d assured you with a smile, his hands on your shoulders. His smile was wide and encouraging, his eyes kind, and you instinctively knew he was a heartbreaker. No one with a smile like that has ever been heartbroken, you’d thought. His flirtatious manner was also a dead giveaway.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when he’d been sent on an assignment at the Den, and entered the kitchen the day after looking a little too happy. A girl had snuck out a few minutes later, looking only slightly embarrassed as she tried to pull her shoes on and find the exit at the same time. Jaemin had just stood in the kitchen and smiled at her as he ate his toast, not even bothering to show her out.

“You’ll have to eat a lot tonight,” he informed you at the end of your training. “And make sure you don’t have any training tomorrow morning, because you’ll be out for a while since this is your first time testing your stamina with my ability.”

He was right; you were exhausted after only two hours with him. When you’d told him just that, his smile widened and he winked at you. You laughed and shook your head at him, throwing your towel at him, “I’m going to shower.” He opened his mouth but you shot him a stern look, “Do not ask to join me.”

His easy-going smile remained on his face as he shrugged nonchalantly, “Worth a shot.” He bent down to pick up his drink bottle and began tidying up the gym as you left.

The person that surprised you the most was Jeno. His ability was easy enough to control, since you could control when you wanted the super strength, but he was happy to train you in preparation for your own training with Johnny.

“I guess it’s easy if you can control when you want to use someone’s ability, since your emotions don’t get in the way,” he’d said, as he wound his fist up with tape and gauze. “But if we’re not around, you need to be able to defend yourself with just your, uh, body.”

You nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Keep a clear head and be logical. Johnny is the only one that can see what you’re about to do, so unless you’re fighting him, think about what you’re doing.” The intense look is back in his eyes when he looks up from his wrapped hands, checking to see if you’re listening, as you haven’t said anything. You can easily see why the others would hate fighting him – he’s smart and he’s dangerous. “If you don’t think, you’ll… you’ll get hurt.” Something in his voice has changed, but it’s gone when he speaks again, “You’re no use if you’re dead.” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he juts his chin up at you, “Hold out your hand.”

You do as he says and he steps forward and begins wrapping your hand delicately. It’s far neater than you’d expected.

“Were you a boxer?”

He lets out a humourless laugh, “No. I’ve just been in a fair few fights.” You try not to react, but he can see what you’re thinking when he looks up. “Relax, most of them walked away just fine.”

“Most?” He doesn’t respond, and you take the hint that he does not want to talk about it.

He’s actually quite a good trainer, you discover, and teaches you the strongest ways to take someone down. He’s less talkative than Jaemin, but his instructions are clear and easy to follow, and at the end of your session, you’re able to do basic sparring with him.

“It’s 6,” he says, looking up at the wall of the gym. Without even a goodbye, he grabs his drink bottle and gym bag, lightly jogging up the steps to head to his room.

That night, you ate dinner with Mark and Jaemin. Well, you ate while they played video games. Jaemin shared a room with Jeno, but you hadn’t seen him since your training session. Empty pizza boxes were stacked by the door, and you counted at least 5. Your own box was sitting beside you on Jeno’s bed, while Jaemin and Mark sat side by side on Jaemin’s bed, their eyes glued to the TV screen that hung on one wall. Their room was a lot more… normal than you’d expected. Donghyuck’s was a giveaway that he was a Super – or a psychopath, either worked – with the blood and the diagrams and the journals and the weapons stacked in boxes around the room.

Jeno and Jaemin’s room was fitted out with their beds, desks, wardrobes, bean bag chairs, an old gaming console and a flatscreen TV. A few movie posters and celebrities were on the wall, and old photos. Only Jaemin had photos, and even so, there were only a few taped to the wall above his bed’s headboard. You couldn’t make out any details from where you were sitting.

Mark’s reflexes were no match for Jaemin’s, and he lost almost every round, making you wonder why he still agreed to play.

“Hey, should I save some of this for Jeno?” You asked, staring at the pizza still remaining in the box. There were only three left, and part of you wondered if it would even be enough. The other part of you thought it would at least be polite to offer.

“Nah, he won’t be back til tomorrow,” Jaemin doesn’t even turn around in his seat, his eyes frantically following his character as it moves across the screen.

“Huh. Okay,” you pick up another slice just as the game ends and Jaemin turns to throw another wide grin at you.

“That means my room’s free for the night, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He laughs at the look of exasperation on your face.

When his attention is away from you again, you say, “Jaehyun sure keeps you guys busy.” There’s only a little bit of bitterness in your voice; you’d been with the team for four days and the only time you’d left was to sort out your apartment. Apparently, you weren’t ready for any assignments yet.

“Huh? Jaehyun has him on an assignment?” Mark’s confusion gets your attention, as he turns to look at Jaemin with a furrowed brow. This was clearly unusual – or, at least, news to him.

Jaemin barely glances at you as he responds, “Nah, he’s visiting his girlfriend.”

“Jeno has a girlfriend?” You ask, only slightly shocked. It wasn’t like you’d thought about their love lives, but you’d just assumed everyone was single. It went with the job description.

“Yeah,” Jaemin nods. “She lives on the other side of the city somewhere. At one of the colleges. He normally goes after trainings on Fridays, since it’s the only night she’s not studying.”

Even without seeing your face, he can sense your surprise.

“Don’t ask him about it, though. He’s very reserved when it comes to her. Doesn’t want any of us to know much about her. I don’t even know her n-”

Mark laughs when he finally manages to kill Jaemin, and Jaemin pouts and rolls his eyes, insisting he was too focused on you to play. “You’re such a baby,” Mark laughs louder, and Jaemin swats at him. His hand moves so fast you barely even see it hit Mark’s arm. “Ow! Dude!”

“One more game, come on,” Jaemin insists, turning back to the screen. Then he raises his voice, “Anyway, Y/n, he won’t even tell us her name, let alone anything else about her. So don’t bring it up.”

“Or he’ll literally chokeslam you,” Mark adds, which, for some reason, makes them both laugh loudly.

You nod, despite the fact they can’t see you, and go back to eating your pizza, “I’ve got next game!”

Mark sighs in relief, “Gladly.” Jaemin’s competitiveness was beginning to wear him out.

The following day, Mark taught you the basics of shape shifting. He was the latest addition to the team – other than you – and his control was even worse than yours. “Shape shifting is really difficult,” he giggled, nervously. “If you’re not 100% imagining what you want to be, you’ll turn into something way different. But don’t panic, it will restrict your ability to change back.”

Over the course of the day, you’d shifted into birds, mice, elephants, leopards, any creature you could think of. Though, you had humiliated yourself when he went to get snacks during your break, greeting and talking to the large dog that came trotting down the stairs, as if it were Mark.

“What are you doing?” He’d laughed when he walked back into the gym, snacks in hand.

You’d been at a loss for words, your cheeks immediately becoming inflamed. “I- I thought that was you,” you pointed at the dog, which was panting as it sat down on the stack of towels in the corner of the room.

“That’s Bruce, Renjun’s dog,” Mark explained, tossing you a can of iced coffee. “Don’t tell Jaemin you drank his coffee.”

You paused, the opened can raised to your lips. You lowered it, slightly, “Why does Jaemin need coffee if he already operates at like 10 times the speed we do?”

“For after he crashes,” Mark shrugs. “Sometimes speed isn’t everything.” He laughs at his own joke, “If he doesn’t sleep enough, he’ll still be exhausted. Sometimes he can’t afford to sleep more than 12 hours, so he relies on coffee.” He cocks his head to the side as he examines his can.

Later, when you’re sitting on the floor after successfully shapeshifting into cockroaches, you ask, “Have you ever tried turning into other people? Can you do that?”

“Yes, but – I really have to know what the person looks like. Like, I can imagine a dog and turn into a dog because any small details that I remember incorrectly will go unnoticed by a human,” he gulps down his cola. “Humans are more complex – one small detail could make me look totally different to the person I’m trying to copy.”

“Change into me, then,” you sit up straighter. “If you can see me, surely you won’t have to rely on your memory, right?”

He shrugs and locks his eyes onto you. You’d seen him transfer from human to horse, from sheep to frog, but somehow seeing him change from himself to you was more disturbing. His skin ripples and his bones make disturbing popping noises as they change, and you wonder if it hurts, even though you had shape shifted multiple times and knew it didn’t hurt at all.

Within a few seconds, right before your eyes… is you. “Hello,” he says in your voice.

“Okay, fuck that, change back,” you tell him, looking away. “That’s so creepy. Brilliant, but creepy.”

When he laughs, it sounds like him again, and you let your eyes drift back to where was sitting. He smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. His eyes, not your own.

You could have so much fun with this ability, reminding yourself to try it on Donghyuck later.

You tell Mark this as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth, and you both stretch out on the gym floor, laughing at all the pranks you could easily pull on the other members of the team.

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tinabean37 · 5 years ago

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Spider-Man

This drabble was inspired by @viking-raider ‘s post...found here. This was really fun to write, and now I need Henry as my neighbor, STAT!

Title: Spider-Man

Summery: After meeting Henry at the grocery store, you find out you are neighbors. Thankfully for you, he’s not as afraid of spiders as you are.

Warnings: None, unless you’re not a fan of the arachnids, then, yes.

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

Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe how you felt after the day of work you had. Back to back meetings, skipping lunch to play catch-up, and then accidentally deleting the proposal you were working on for a client. And now, here you were, 2 hours late and standing in line at the grocery store with the biggest bottle of wine and the biggest tub of death by chocolate ice cream you could find. You deserve this, you reassured yourself.

The line you were in was moving too slow for your liking. You picked up a magazine from the rack next to you and began to skim it through. Lost in the article you were reading, you moved up without looking, and directly into the solid back of the customer ahead of you. He turned to you, and you almost dropped your grocery basket. Henry Cavill. Superman. Geralt of Rivia was in line ahead of you. And you just bulldozed into him like such a klutz. You immediately began to apologize.

“Oh my, I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, and I guess I thought the line was moving.” You were dazzled by his sweet smile.

“No worries. It must have been an interesting read, eh?” Feeling sheepish, you turned the magazine around to show him.

“Well, yes. About you.” On the page you were reading was a large action photo of Mr. Henry Cavill himself, looking all dashing as The Witcher. You felt the warmth on your cheeks as the blush spread. He just chuckled.

“Riveting read, I’m sure.” He joked. He held out his hand in introduction. “Henry, but you knew that.”

“Nice to meet you Henry, I’m y/n.” You placed your hand into his outstretched grasp and shook. He glanced down into your basket and smiled.

“Rough day?” You laughed in response.

“Oh yeah. Work was murder. I just need my wine and ice cream, and then I’m going to hide in my flat until morning.” You got the feeling that he knew how you felt. All of a sudden, his eyes narrowed, and he looked at you quizzingly.

“Wait, you almost look familiar. You live in the flats across from the park, right?” He knew where you lived? How? You nodded a slow, yes. “That’s where I’ve seen you. I live in the same block of flats.”

“Oh wow. We live in the same building, but never knew it? I guess I’m more oblivious than I thought.” You laughed together.

“Don’t feel bad. I try to keep a low profile, as I’m sure you could understand.” You smiled as you nodded at him. To your amazement, he stayed after his business was complete, and continued your conversation. You spoke like old friends, joking about strange neighbors and neighborhood stories while your items were rung up and paid for. You also learned that you both were walking back home, so you decided to walk back together.

For the whole of the short walk, there wasn’t any forced conversation or feeling the need to fill awkward silences. Just comfortable company. When you arrived at your building, you realized that not only lived in the same building but on the same floor. You ascended the stairs together, joking about borrowing sugar and other neighborly cliches. You arrived at his door first, and you realized you didn’t want to say goodbye. He really brightened your miserable day, and you told him as much. He flashed you another golden smile.

“I agree. It was very nice to meet you. I’m glad I know someone in the building now. Guess that’s my fault for being such a hermit.”

“Well, you are welcome anytime. I’m just in number 6.” You placed a hand on his arm, and couldn’t stop yourself from giving the muscle a gentle squeeze, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He did, and you were rewarded with a laugh as he saw your eyes grow wide. With reluctance and a final wave to Henry, you headed to your door.

When you got inside, and without hesitation, you changed into a teeshirt and sweats. You grabbed a wine glass from the cupboard and a spoon from the drawer. After a very generous pour, you brought your makeshift dinner to the couch, ready to hunker in the for the night. You hadn’t even taken the first sip of your wine before you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. You glanced your head left and jumped as you let out a scream, spilling your wine all down your front. There on the wall in the hallway was the biggest spider you had ever seen. You hated spiders. They were evil and did not belong in your cozy sanctuary. Normally when you saw a little spider, after you calmed down from the initial shock of it, you were able to take care of it. But this one? Not a chance. It was too big. Too terrifying. And too fast. Where did it go? It was just there. If there was something you hated more than spiders, it was hidden spiders. Surprisingly, the first solution that came to mind had you running out of the apartment door and down the hall. Your hand was knocking on the door before you could stop yourself. Henry opened it rather quickly, but with confusion when he saw who was at the door, and the state of you. Wine soaked shirt, and a crazy look in your eyes.

“Y/n, is everything alright?”

“I have no idea why I came here. It was on reflex, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Henry’s protector instinct kicked in right away. He stepped into the hallway, and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. He urged you to tell him what happened. “It’s huge. It was just sitting there, being all huge. And then it was gone. I don’t know where it went. I can’t find it, and it needs to be gone!” You managed to stammer out.

“I’m not following. What needs to be gone?”

“The spider. The huge monstrous spider that has decided to move into my flat. I lost track of it, and I just know it is plotting to kill me.” Henry’s shoulders visibly relaxed when he realized what you were running from. He tried not to laugh at you, but he couldn’t help but chuckle. You were so adorable. He placed a hand on your back and guided you back to your flat. You let him enter first, and pointed to where you first saw the monster.

“It was right there, on the wall. I don’t even remember looking away, but then it was gone.” More movement flashed in the corner of your eye, and your head darted to the right. “There! It just ran into the kitchen.”

“Ok. Just sit down, and I’ll take care of it.” As Henry disappeared into the kitchen, you made your way towards the hall closet to get supplies to clean the wine off the floor and couch. After only a few minutes, you heard the sound of the window in the kitchen open, then close, and Henry appeared back in the living room.

“Your roommate was relocated without incident, and will no longer be bothering you.” You put down the cleaning supplies next to the melty ice cream on the table and walked over to your hero.

“Thank you so much. I’m really sorry I bothered you for this.”

“Really, it’s no trouble. That’s what neighbors are for, right?”

“At least stay for a glass of wine as repayment? I don’t have anything made for dinner, but I can get another spoon for the ice cream?” You both laughed at the invitation, but to your amazement, he accepted.

You didn’t think you could smile any bigger as you headed into the kitchen for another wine glass and spoon. You made your way back to Henry and realized you really liked how he looked in your space, all big and manly looking at home on your small couch. You filled his glass and refilled yours. He lifted the wine, and clinked the glass in a toast.

“To neighbors, and new friends.” With a smile, you seconded his sentiment, silently praying for more spiders in your future.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill fandom #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill drabble

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fanfoolishness · 5 years ago

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Comminuted (2/4)

SUF. Steven and Greg try to deal with the devastating revelations in “Growing Pains.”

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

(Comminuted: describing a skeletal fracture that breaks the bone into two or more pieces.)

***

Greg stood by the blaring TV, chipper music and high-pitched koala voices attempting to drown out the pounding of his heart. Steven was fast asleep on the couch in front of him, but he was pink again, his face twisted even as he slept.

Greg knelt beside him, reaching out and brushing a few loose curls back from his forehead. Slowly, slowly the pink faded from his skin, leaving just his son, looking small and vulnerable in sleep.

Greg stood up, his hands hanging loose at his side, fingers tensing with the urge to do something. He settled for going to the closet and rummaging in its depths, pulling out a heavy blanket and tucking it over Steven’s hunched form. Steven’s face shifted slightly, the deep-drawn lines relaxing just a little.

Okay.

He could do this.

He had to do this.

He made himself mechanical, a robot like something from one of Steven’s old comic books. He went to the sink, opened the cabinet, pulled out trash bags. He threw down a towel under the refrigerator to sop up the melted ice from the broken freezer. He shoved the freezer door into a trash bag with soup-like Cookie Cats and soft mushy containers of ice cream. He stopped when he saw a glow bracelet, a faint reddish color in the back of the freezer.

He remembered that day, the parade, when Steven was the car wash boy with bubbles in his hair, when he eagerly ran back to Greg with the bracelet clutched in his hands. “A girl dropped this! She was watching us in the parade and I was waving to her but then she left and she dropped it! She looked really nice, Dad, and she had these cool glasses, and I’m gonna save this for her and find her and give it back to her some day!”

His stomach dropped into his shoes. Steven’s face, pink and huge and scared and so, so lost -- I -- I, uh -- I proposed to Connie!

He didn’t throw it away, even though the glow was fading. He pulled it out of the broken freezer and set it carefully on a dish towel next to the sink. He wasn’t sure what Steven would want to do with it, but he wasn’t going to take that choice away from him.

Greg wiped his face with his hand, casting a quick look back at the couch. Steven was still sleeping, his face and hands still peach, not pink.

He got back to it. He picked up the wrappers that had landed on the floor, stuffing them into the garbage. He brought the full bag of trash out to the porch. He’d carry it back to the car wash the next time he went home.

His eyes fell on the stairwell. He was glad Steven hadn’t noticed his reaction to the melted ice cream smeared in a puddle on the floor, the junk food that Steven had insisted he’d outgrown left scattered all over the room, the dirty laundry everywhere. Greg had gasped, but managed to swallow it. He hadn’t seen Steven’s room look like this for years. Steven had been so eager to be more mature, to finally be close to being an adult. How long has he been alone like this? he’d wondered.

Half his life.

And he’d just managed a smile as if Steven’s depression hadn’t just slapped him in the face, if his own guilt hadn’t been choking him, and gathered up some videos for his kid to watch like it was no big deal.

Steven was resting now, though, and that was important, that was good, that was something he could hold onto.

Greg took the stairs up, trash bags and cleaning supplies in hand. He hummed tunelessly as he worked, scrubbing where the ice cream had started soaking into the floorboards, sweeping up potato chip shards and cheesy poof crumbs, getting all the laundry into the hamper, changing the sheets, making the bed. He carefully set the star pillow that had fallen on the floor back on top of the fresh-made bed.

He sniffed. The place didn’t smell great between the stale teenage boy laundry and the curdling ice cream, so he opened the sliding door, letting in some of the fresh air from outside. A few potted plants greeted him on the path to the dome.

Steven had mentioned, off-handedly, something about a Gem issue causing the dome to need some improvements. The dome was repaired now, but Greg looked at the plants on the wooden path, half of them knocked out of their flowerpots, some of them browning and losing their leaves. Steven could have healed them in an instant. But he hadn’t. He’d healed Beach City with nothing more than his powers and his determination, and here in his own home azaleas and aloes stood browned and withered.

Greg felt weak, like his legs were going to give out from under him. I missed so much.

But he couldn’t think about that right now. If he started, he’d never stop. He didn’t know how long he had until Steven woke up, and he needed to be ready, needed to be there for him in whatever capacity Steven required. He closed the door on the half-ruined plants and finished tidying the room, then hauled the laundry to the washer and dryer. He started the first load.

“Dad?” Steven called from the other room, a note of panic in his voice. Greg hurried into the living room, where Steven was sitting up on the couch looking confused. “I thought -- I thought you’d left without saying goodbye --” There it was again, pink shining in his skin and hair, his eyes wide with panic. Koala Princess’ cloying laughter seemed to skip a few beats, a snarl of electrical interference cutting through the cheery sound.

“Just starting the laundry, Steven,” said Greg, trying to sound reassuring. “You know I’d never leave without saying goodbye.”

“Right,” said Steven, shaking his head, fighting back a yawn. “I know.” The pink disappeared again. The TV was silent before him. He leaned back, his fingers twisting in the blanket.

“Are you hungry?” Greg asked, hoping to distract him.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. I guess so.” Steven still looked half-dazed. Greg couldn’t tell if it was lingering drowsiness from the nap, or if it was exhaustion from everything else that had happened today. Steven rubbed at his eyes irritably and started his show back up again, hunkering down in the blanket.

Greg tried to give him a calming smile, but turned to the kitchen before Steven could see the way his eyes watered. He started sorting through the cupboards, pulling out pots and bowls, trying to make himself busy and useful. He reminded himself what he’d thought earlier.

You have to do this. For him.

#greg universe #steven universe #steven universe future #growing pains #suf #suf spoilers #steven universe future spoilers #fanfoolishness' steven universe fic #fanfoolishness steven universe fic

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ajoy3fanfics · 5 years ago

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Prompt 17: teasing

Smut Prompt 17: Stop teasing me so much

Written for @lavendertwilight89. Hopefully, you like it- this was written while quite drunk ;)

A mutal masturbation story for those in quarantine. Enjoy!

If there was one thing Inuyasha was sure of, it was that he was never going to survive this quarantine.

It wasn’t the social distancing, the restrictions about on crowd sizes, or even the competitive nature toilet paper had brought out in people.

It was that staying with Kagome was going to be the death of him.

Miroku and Sango had gone overseas on a trip, planned long in advance and scheduled for the beautiful weather, only to return home and find their city in lockdown. A minimum 14 day quarantine was required for anyone re-entering the country, and with Sango living with Kagome, and Miroku with him, they risked exposing their roommates to a virus the could potentially have.

So Kagome, the problem solver that she was, had come up with the brilliant solution that he could crash at her place, and Sango could stay at his. The pair could hunker down and ride out their 2 week isolation, without the chances of getting anyone sick, and Kagome and Inuyasha could just learn to live with each other.

Perfect plan, right? Less risk of infection and they could keep each other company.

In theory, it all sounded good- it made sense and yeah, he had agreed to it; but what she had actually arranged was for the slow torture of the hanyou.

Inuyasha had been in love with Kagome for well over a year. Once Miroku started dating Sango, Kagome inexplicably came with the package. He would come home to find the pair of girls sitting on his couch, waiting for Miroku to get ready for whatever plans they had that night. It was annoying, at first, to find strangers in his living room, but the more he got to know them, the more he enjoyed their company.

Especially Kagome’s.

She was bright and happy, always smiling whenever she looked at him. And to be honest, he didn’t mind. He was never much of a people person, but he found himself easily caught up in her. They had become friends in their own right, meeting up without their roommates. It was easy to be around her, even easy to fall in love.

There were times he suspected that she felt the same; he thought she was flirting from time to time, but he couldn’t be sure. She was friendly with everyone, so what if it was just his wishful thinking? If he had made a move on her, and she rejected him, could their friendship recover?

Those were all things that used to occupy his thoughts before.

Now all he could concentrate on was how not to cum in his pants every time she walked by. Did she always own shorts that short? Did she know that he could see the curve of her ass every time she bent over- and Gods did anyone need to bend over this much?

Never mind her shorts, he was certain that she had stopped wearing a bra the last two days. And sure, it was her own house and she should feel comfortable, but Kagome kept it rather chilly and her nipples always seemed hard, pressing against her shirt, driving him to distraction and making him feel like a creep.

And because they were friends, and because of Kagome’s nature, she was friendly. She was touchy- light gestures, but frequent enough that it felt flirty. When they sat on the couch- now his new bed- she was close- so close that when she leaned over to get the bowl of popcorn she was practically on top of him, her full breasts grazing his side. When she wasn’t practically sitting on top of him, she had her long, slender legs draped over his thighs, completely relaxed, as if this was a normal thing people did with him.

None of it was normal; people didn’t playfully shove him when he was being an ass, or fall asleep on his shoulder during a T.V. show; once it happened the first time, it was like a door had been opened, and she frequently leaned into him- almost a cuddle- and each night he tried to work up the courage to wrap his arm around her.

The problem was, he didn’t want to come off as a creep; he wasn’t sure if she was sending him signals or he had experienced so much blood loss from it all rushing to his dick that that’s what it seemed like. He wondered if he should try out some of the COVID-19 pick-up lines Miroku sent him daily; Since all the public libraries are closed, how about I check you out instead?

Kagome didn’t seem the type.

She was in the shower, one room away and just the thought of the hot water running down her body had him hard. He had been walking around this week in a state of permanent arousal and his balls were so blue he wasn’t sure if he’d recover. He needed to do something, needed a distraction. Everything smelted like Kagome, and being stuck inside with her for so long, he couldn’t help but imagine fucking her on every surface of her apartment. He had never really wanted to screw someone on an end table, but the image of her bending over, holding onto the corners for support as he slammed into her cunt from behind.

A distraction. That’s what he needed.

Dishes weren’t sexy. He could do a mindless chore and focus on something other than the way Kagome’s tits bounced when she did yoga in the morning, bending and moving her body in ways that he didn’t know a human could.

Dishes. He needed to turn on the cold water and get his hands wet. This was going to be the longest 2 weeks of his life.

~.~

The door opened, the slight creak making him turn his head instinctively; She emerged, a cloud of steam surrounding her, a green towel wrapped around her and thick, creamy thighs exposed and dripping wet. Her black hair usually had a wave to it, but now that it was damp it was curling, framing her face in a seductive way.

“Damn!” He quickly turned his head and muttered an apology apologized. He had expected her to scream, or to throw something at him for catching her in such a state, but instead, she stood still, as if considering her options. Casually, as if was the most normal thing in the world, she walked over to the sink where Inuyasha stood, hands deep in the suds.

She smiled and it totally caught him off guard. “You didn’t have to do that.” She said.

Inuyasha did his best to focus on the pan; it really should have been soaked and required his attention. Not Kagome, or the way her breasts looked amazing, pressed together in the towel that was barely tied together. “I-I don’t mind.” He sputtered.

Kagome liked that; from the outside, he was a stoic half demon, his claws intimidating and muscles threatening enough to keep people away. Yet here he was, nervous like a teenager, blushing, because of her. Kagome knew that he was more of a puppy than a demon, and deep down she loved it.

She loved him.

It had been a hard week for her; at first, she was thrilled and nervous and a million other emotions when he agreed to spend this time in her. Sango had been encouraging her for months to ask him out, but she never seemed to find the nerve. When he had come to her apartment, bag of clothes in hand, she took it as a sign that maybe, just maybe, he was into her just as much as she was into him.

She had thrown him hint after hint, had practically sat in his lap the other night, and he still kept his hands to himself. He looked so damn good all the time and she was beginning to lose her mind. Even now, washing the damn dishes she wanted to push him against the sink and strip him of that red shirt that hugged his muscles so deliciously.

She would never have dreamed of being this bold if it wasn’t for Sango and Miroku tirelessly reassuring her all week that Inuyasha was definitely into her. Normally, she would have never been so daring as to approach someone this way, but over the past week, she came to understand that Inuyasha was the nervous type. He had been trying- badly- to hide the fact that he was turned on by her, his sweat pants doing little to hide his rather large boner. While her plan was to put him out of his misery (and hers), a part of her liked teasing him, seeing him pushed to the brink and strained. At night she imagined himself finally losing control, taking her roughly and leaving marks on her body. She wanted to get him there, to get him so frustrated he has to make the first move.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” She asked, the same smile plastered on her face. Her fingers played with the bottom piece of the towel .

“Sure.” He answered, cheeks slightly pink from blushing. She smiled and he wondered how someone could look so dazzling.

“Great!” She jumped a little in her excitement and his eyes were glued to her heaving chest. “I’m going to get changed and I’ll be right out.

Inuyasha nodded dumbly, willing himself to calm down before he needed another cold shower.

~.~

She was wearing a white cotton shirt, and her body was still wet from the shower, sticking to her curves, making them more prominent. Inuyasha mentally cursed, both thrilled to see that she wasn’t wearing a bra again and also in agony. She was trying to kill him, he knew it.

“Your place, or mine?” She asked, trying to suppress a smile; Inuyasha was obviously flustered, taken off guard by her comment, by the way her pert nipples were showing again.

“What?” He asked, brows knitted together in confusion.

“I’m asking,” She drawled out, “Do you want a change of scenery? We can watch it in my room. You’ve been trapped in the same space for a week now. I thought you might like to mix it up.”

Great. Now she was inviting him into her room. It felt like it was a signal, but he couldn’t be sure. Kagome was friendly by nature and maybe this was her way of being kind since he couldn’t really leave the apartment. And to be honest the idea of seeing anything other than the living room, kitchen and bathroom sounded downright exciting; but that also meant that he would be even more confined, surrounded by her scent.

Not like the entire place wasn’t doused in it anyway. It should make no difference where they watched the movie.

“You-You wouldn’t mind?” He stammered. Since when did he fucking stammer?

“Don’t be silly. I asked, didn’t I?” She answered brightly. How much more obvious could she be?

“But, wont it be…I dunno, awkward?” He was 12. He was sure he had regressed to a pubescent boy. That had to be only reason he was acting like this.

Or maybe it was the fact that all week Kagome had been bringing him to the brink of insanity. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, tugging him along towards her door.

“You really surprise me sometimes.” She said with a laugh. If he didnt make a move tonight, she would give up.

God, she hoped Inuyasha would just kiss her already.

~.~

Kagome’s room was very much her. It was simple, but cozy, the bed flush against the corner of the wall, a decent-sized tv placed in front, standing on the tall dresser. Her desk was against the other wall, a bookcase pushed by its side. There were small touches- a few nicely framed photos and knickknacks that were proudly displayed, but overall, the room had a warm and welcoming feeling. The space was neat and tidy, but her bed was unmade, the green comforter in disarray, showing that Kagome was, perhaps, not the world’s most graceful sleeper.

“Sorry.” She murmured, walking to the bed to set it right. Inuyasha told her to leave it, and she nodded, making a comment that they were just going to mess it up anyway. She had the good grace to blush, just a little, however she did not correct herself.

Inuyasha waited for Kagome to climb onto the bed first, and he stood awkwardly, trying to figure out his next move. When was the last time he was in a girls room like this, just as a friend? Normally when he and a woman were near a bed, there was only one logical course of action. What the hell would a friend do?

Choosing to sit at the end of the bed, he sat up perfectly straight, too afraid to get comfortable, and waited for her to turn on the movie.

Once the screen lit up, Inuyasha felt content that he could relax- they were on her bed for crying out loud, but they were farther apart than when they sat on the couch, so the likelihood of him having to touch her was minimized.

The room, however, was filled with her scent.

It was faint, but he could detect traces of her desire, faded aroma of her release clung to her sheets. He would bet his life that she had a toy hidden in her nightside draw, just from the strong scent alone. Damn, the image of her pleasuring herself, alone in the bed- this bed- was enough to make his cock twitch.

Kagome leaned back against the headboard, eyes closed, as she massaged the back of her neck and letting out a soft moan as the tension released. She opened her eyes, only to find that he was smoldering, burning.

“What?” She asked, the hint of a smirk curling the corner of her lips.

Inuyasha swallowed hard, breathing in through his nose, trying to calm his nerves- a huge mistake- all it served to do was give him a better taste of her delicious scent. He had to do something- had to say something or he was never going to survive.

“L-look.” He started, words shakier than he meant, “I- I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, and fuck, I could be interpreting this wrong, but-“

Kagome stared at him wide-eyed, hand still resting on the column of her neck. ”But?”

“B-but it seems like your putting out signals, and fuck, I know this is awkward, and I’m not trying to make it that way, but for the love of God, please stop teasing me so much. I cant take it.”

Kagome blinked innocently, hand moving to the collar of her shirt, toying with the fabric as it exposed small glimpses of her neck. “But what if I like teasing you?”

“So you admit it? You’ve been teasing me on purpose?”

She smiled at that, beautiful and mischievous, a side he had not expected to see. He was even more shocked to watch as her hand drifted over the curve of her breast, his eyes drawn as she circled her nipple with her delicate fingers. Kagome arched into her own touch, biting down on her bottom lip to keep in a low moan. When she looked his way, she did not see the reaction she had hoped; he was stationary, taking in the scene before him, a blank expression on his face. Worried that she had crossed the line and made a huge mistake she stilled, praying that she had not misinterpreted things and make her house guest uncomfortable.

“Should I stop?” She asked, searching his eyes for an answer. As if hearing her voice had snapped him out of a trance, his eyes darted up to hers, heavy lidded and hungry. He took a deep breath, the scent of her making him dizzy. Quickly, he shook his head no, as if to say please don’t fucking stop.

Kagome bit her bottom lip as she ran her fingers down, gripping the hem of her shirt, small hand disappearing inside. With better access, she pushed her bra up so that she could squeeze her full breast, the cotton shirt bunching from the movement, exposing her flat stomach. Inuyasha’s brain was scrambling to catch up, trying to process the fact that he was watching Kagome touch herself, in front of him, for him. His hands seemed to move on their own accord, reaching into the band of his sweat pants to grip his throbbing erection and pull it free. Had he ever gotten so hard, so quickly? He felt a twinge of embarrassment- he had never done something like this before- and this was a really sudden development, but the way her scent spiked as she watched him stroke his cock left him little room to feel anything but utterly turned on.

If Kagome had felt nervous about touching herself in front of Inuyasha, the sentiment was long gone. Seeing the effect she had on him was hard to deny; his dick was hard, beads of precum leaking out, coating his head in his excitement, made her feel powerful and bold. She reached down, her hand easily slipping underneath her pajama shorts and quickly delving into the slick heat. Her lips pasted as she gasped, the pleasure so much more intense being watched than when she touched herself alone. Half-lidded, hungry with desire, she wanted to drink in the sight of him, all of him, but it was hard to tear her gaze from the sinful way he was moving his hand. A low growl caught her off guard, forcing her to meet his stare. The way he looked at her set a fire in her belly, causing her to buck her hips, grinding the palm of her hand against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Inuyasha breathed in, intoxicated and dizzy from the scent she was giving off.

“Fuck,” Inuyasha hissed through clenched teeth, pumping his hand up and down his shaft, trying to match his rhythm to hers. No longer able to handle himself, he rose his hips to push his pants down, revealing the full length of his member, much larger than Kagome had thought. Now that he was fully revealed, Kagome saw that his hand couldn’t close completely, his cock much too thick; she wondered how it would feel inside of her, stretching her core to its limit.

He wanted to leap forward, to push her back against the mattress and bury his cock inside her sweet pussy; he was reluctant to break the spell, almost scared to speak, lest she change her mind and stop the best show he had ever seen in his life. He couldn’t see much, her body still covered by her clothes, but he was able to see and smell each movement she made. She whimpered at his curse, his eyes glued to the way her hand moved beneath her shorts, the other pulling and tweaking her right nipple.

“Let me see,” He begged, “Please.”

Slowly, she withdrew her hand, her fingers slick and coated, only to wiggle out of her pajama shorts, revealing a pair of white underwear, trimmed with lace at the top. How could she wear something so pure looking and be so damn seductive? Her fingers dove down again, but this time, she pushed the fabric of her panties to the side, allowing Inuyasha to watch as she placed first one, then two fingers inside her dripping cunt. He couldnt believe he was this close to her, to the woman he had craved so long, watching as she pumped and curled her fingers, reaching a spot only she knew best, mewing each time her thumb circled her clit. He was hungry to touch her, to taste her, but starving to watch as she made herself cum.

Inuyasha felt like he was in heaven; even in his wildest dreams he could not come up with this scenario; She was calling his name now, broken pieces of it, as his other hand lowered to cup his balls, tight and heavy, ready to jizz. The pressure felt so good, so he gave them a slight tug, his other hand giving the head of his cock a slight squeeze when it reached.

“Can I come closer?” He asked, voice husky. Kagome nodded, and in a flash he was near her, pushing her back and spreading her thighs to make room for him. Kagomes breath hitched, excited and nervous, and completely focused on the way his hand returned to his cock. They were close, his dick mere inches above her pussy, wet and waiting; so close that she was sure he was going to line himself up and push into her, finally, but that never came. Instead, he continued to stroke himself, up and down, the pace much faster now, his breathing ragged.

Kagome, not one to be left behind, continued her to pump her cunt, fingers brushing against his as she worked herself to the brink.

“I’m close,” She panted, biting down on her lower lip as she rocked against her hand. Her thighs were wrapped around his waist, and his hips were jerking forward, each motion making him grunt in an almost feral way. His sack was brushing against her enterance, the sensation alone enough to bring him over the edge. He was close too, but he’d be damned if he came before her.

“Come for me, baby.” He commanded, loving the way she whimpered, the way she bucked harder against her hand, grinding her clit into her palm.

“Come baby.” He said through gritted teeth, his own hands rubbing and tugging his balls, swirling his thumb over the head of his cock, so wet and ready for release.

Kagome came with a muffled cry, body writhing, and Inuyasha drank it in greedily. Each movement, each time she thrust, brought his dick a little closer to her pussy, and with a strangled call of her name, he nut, hot white cum shooting out, onto her stomach. She moaned at his release, turned on at the sight of him utterly undone.

For a moment, he was unsure of what to do; it had always been his dream to be between Kagomes legs, but what the heck did he do now?

She reached between them, her fingers still coated with her desire and lightly traced the length of his cock. He had just cum, but he was already ready for round 2, her touches feather-light, barely there.

Gods, she was such a tease.

But fuck, Inuyasha didn’t mind it at all.

#inuyasha and kagome #inuyasha oneshot #prompt #ajoy3 #inukag

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copias-thrall · 5 years ago

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This is Halloween (Halloween)

Mary expands Suey's world by taking her to a crazy art party.

(Part: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9)

It’s one of the stretches where you actually haven’t seen Mary in a few days. He’d apparently been by your apartment—dishes were done and he took out your trash—but you’d spent that day hunkered down at a coffee shop so you could have sandwiches with a friend who got a job downtown. And while Mary can be lyrical when he wants to be, his texts are usually brief and full of letters that only make sense to him in his shorthand … so you’re not ever going to get any missives from the front lines from him.

Which is fine: you’re super-busy and full of your own hobbies. Like napping. And complaining. Occasionally you’ll round that out with chip-eating. You’ve never been particularly creative—which makes Mary wince at you every now and then (you love art, you’re just not … adept, and sometimes it seems unfair that he can write music AND lyrics AND doodle great sketches)—but you are a voracious reader. You’d been shocked to find out that not only had Mary read Austen, but he also had a love of Persuasion—a novel you yourself found superior to Pride & Prejudice. He’d been similarly chuffed when he’d realized you liked Chuck Palahniuk for more than just Fight Club.

Which is all to say that when Mary’s not around, you like to combine your hobbies—a little chip eating while you read, only to fall asleep with the book on your face.

Tonight is no exception.

It’s nearly Halloween (it’s tomorrow actually, and you’re only slightly bummed that Mary has to work), so in honor of the holiday you’re working your way through an anthology of Lovecraft. Unexpectedly, there's a knock at your door. You check your phone, but there are no texts.

Hmm.

There’s another knock, so you set down the book and sprint to your bedroom to take up what Mary has dubbed your “Masher Hammer.” You make it back to your apartment door just in time for a third series of knocks. When you look out the peephole, however, it’s clear that whoever’s on the other side is blocking the viewer.

Gripping your hammer tight—ready for swing mode—you unlatch your door and open it.

You’re met with the sight of a Jack O’Lantern.

No—

Not a Jack O’Lantern … some guy with a carved pumpkin on his head.

“Ta-d—Jesus Christ, Suey … put Masher down,” says a muffled voice.

“Mary?”

Mary lifts the pumpkin—a real pumpkin, not a plastic basket from the dollar store—a little off his head enough for you to make out his face. You lower your swinging arm.

“Why is there a pumpkin on your head? What are you doing here?”

He spreads his arms out and does jazz hands. “Mischief Night!”

When you just stand there squinting at him, he finally takes the pumpkin fully off his head. His hair is squashed, and he’s only wearing some light makeup around his eyes and on his lips.

“So, you gonna let me in, or … should I duck?”

“Oh, right,” you say as you step back.

As Mary suanters in, you can see his eyes sweep to the couch where you’ve made a nest of blankets and pillows—your book lying face down, and the open bag chips positioned at an optimal angle on the coffee table.

“That looks nice.” He sidles up to you to squeeze your tits through your hoodie. “Almost makes me want to call it a night and get cozy in those blankets … I could crush those chips and lick them off you before I eat you out.”

His hand slides down to your crotch.

You’re trying to take him seriously, but he’s holding a pumpkin under his arm. You snap at his face.

“Mary—focus. What the hell?”

He gives you a put out look, exaggeratedly pushing out his bottom lip—but it’s soon replaced with a wicked grin.

“Mischief Night! Do you wanna go to a weird-ass art party?”

“An art party?” you ask dubiously.

“No, not what you’re thinking.”

He sets down the carved pumpkin on your table and walks to your fridge, rummaging around before pulling out the pisswater beer he keeps around.

“Think of it as a teen-movie house party—but on steroids and no one there got laid in high school. With, you know: art.”

“That’s … very specific.”

He walks back over to you, cradling the beer in one hand, and puts the other on your shoulder.

“We are under no obligation to participate in the orgy.”

You don’t think he’s joking.

He gives you a once over. “It’s also a—hmm—masquerade, so we gotta get you outfitted.”

Your mind darts.

“I only have those stupid headband cat ears my friend got me as a joke.”

He gives you a vulpine smile. “You’re gonna go as me.”

It had been a fun little party of two as you’d put on a YouTube Halloween playlist from your phone. Mary’d given you a dramatic mohawk with his precious airplane glue, then fished around in the pink makeup bag with hearts (that you’d put his stash in as a joke and he’d kept) to give you his iconic look—blood and all.

There was no way you were going to fit in his skinny jeans, but you’d been able to pair one of his well-worn tees (that you hadn’t already stolen) with your favorite denim skirt. Mary had taken off one of his studded belts to wrap around you—it’d needed a couple of safety pins to act as extensions, but Mary had assured you that that just made the style more authentic. Upon Mary’s request, you’d put on your ripped fishnets, and you had your own worn Docs to complete the look.

“Do I get to be a sex-crazed jerk all night?” you’d asked as you’d admired yourself in the corroded full-length you had propped up by the bathroom.

“You say that as if that’s something new and different for you—fuck ow,” said Mary as you’d tapped his balls.

“So where is this place?” you ask as Mary and you head to the train.

It’s in the old factory district, which means it’s a ways away, but still subway accessible.

“It’s actually in a converted co-op. I think they started out as squatters—unclear—but now it’s above board as a residence and shit. I used to know a guy who lived there for a while—they had sectioned off areas with screens—and he had a corner so he slept in a hammock. Most of the space is for their art, though. What a fucking life to live.”

You look at him, incredulous. “Mare. You live in a 2 bedroom with 4 other dudes.”

He scoffs at you. “We also have a couch. It’s a whole ‘nother level.”

You just hum at him.

When you finally get there—after a few mis-turns in this silent neighborhood full of abandoned brick factories—you’re surprised (despite Mary’s description) to see that the place is lit. There’s a guy standing at the entrance to the parking lot (that slopes dangerously toward the river) checking attendees; it becomes clear that not only is he checking for 21+, but for alcohol and toilet paper. Those without either have to “donate” $10.

“Oh—” says Mary right before it’s about to be your turn. “I’m not Mary tonight.”

“What should I call, then? The ‘Great Pumpkin’?”

“Just not Mary,” he hisses as you shore up to the “bouncer.”

The guy is not in any kind of costume—just grey sweats and a sports team hat. He’s sitting on a bar stool, and he has a little flashlight he’s using to check IDs.

“Hey, guys!” he says cheerily. “Welcome to Magical Mischief Mystery at the Factory. IDs? Ah! TP and suds? Cool, cool.”

He checks your IDs, then looks at you, then your IDs … then at Mary’s pumpkin face, then at you.

“OH MY GOD,” he starts chortling and slips off the stool to grab Mary’s arm. “Mary, you old bastard—I haven’t seen you since Dusty left to get hitched.”

You take a deep breath and—in your best screamo voice—you say, “I’m fucking Mary Goore,” (not a lie) “and he’s ‘Late for Dinner’.”

The pumpkin head turns to you. You can feel Mary’s unamused gaze.

The bouncer starts wheezing so hard that you’re afraid he might expire from laughing.

“Fuck, fuck,” gasps the dude. He shakes his head, eyes watery from mirth, and waves the two of you through.

“I hate you,” says Mary.

“I didn’t call you ‘Mary’, though,” you quip as you slip your arm through his.

“Why do I have to carry all the shit? Here. Pull your fucking weight.”

Mary hands you the toilet paper roll he heisted from your bathroom.

“Are we going to TP something?” you ask as you take the roll from him.

“Heh. No, it’s purely functional. This many people? It’s so the bathrooms don’t run out.”

The two of you enter with another mass of people, traveling through the miasma of secondhand smoke from the smokers. You cough, but Mary inhales deep, sighing. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but you gape as you look around.

You and Mary stand on an open floor—which is what 5 or so floors look out onto all the way up. The place is crowded, but not jam packed. There’s a makeshift kitchen area where a dude in a bare chest and suspenders is accepting the toilet paper and libations. Above him is a white sheet that’s stretched out, on which an Art Film is being projected. The film has no sound because in the far corner there’s a DJ spinning, and a group of people are “dancing” to his jams. Mary was right: it’s like some kind of frat party for the artsy set. Because of the theme, most everyone is in a mask of some sort, and people—or groups of people—are making out in corners in various states of undress.

Mary grabs two beers, then leads you to a staircase—there’s a freight elevator by it, but it’s got cheesy Halloween “do not enter” tape blocking it.

“The first year too many people loaded into it, and it dropped 3 floors before the emergency brakes kicked in,” says Mary as he notices where you’re looking.

In a loft on the second floor you and Mary watch a woman—nude and covered in white paint—become the canvas to her girlfriend’s landscape painting.

In what’s clearly a shared bedroom, you and Mary peruse some really great paintings and sketches from what must be a number of the co-op residents.

“You should have told me to bring cash,” you say.

“We can always come back. I know a guy.”

You imagine Mary’s probably winking at you.

On the third floor there’s an inexplicable open-air kitchen attached to a bathroom. In it there’s a dude doling out beer from a keg.

“What’s this,” Mary asks him.

“It’s my homemade IPA, dude! Pumpkin for the season!”

He hands Mary a business card.

“We have a small space in the boonies, but we’re trying to get a brewery up and running in the city. Red tape though, man.”

“I fucking hear that.” Mary takes a sip. “Good shit, dude.”

The guy high-fives Mary.

“One for your girl?”

Mary hands you the solo cup, and you take a sip. You were expecting something grassy and hoppy—but the pumpkin actually balances it out nicely without it itself being cloyingly sweet. When you nod, Mary just lets you have his and indicates to the brewer to pump another cup.

The two of you enter what you think might usually be a studio space, but instead there’s a burlesque performance going on. There are some people making out, but Mary and you watch, rapt, praising the skill of the performers to each other.

The fourth floor has the least amount of people. Someone is doing a reading in one corner, and across the way there’s some sort of performance art going on. A woman stands in a white shift and gauze. Every time a dude who looks like a Nazgul rings a bell, she contorts herself to a different pose with a dancer’s ease.

You roll your eyes, but Mary begs your patience—watching solemnly as she continues.

“What is it?” you ask when the set is clearly over.

“Did you not feel it?”

“Uh …”

Even through the pumpkin you can feel his eyes on you.

“She’s a dancing monkey. Bound and constrained, only ever allowed to perform at the whim of her faceless master.”

“Mary …”

“No—don’t scoff. That was meant for you. It’s an allegory for the patriarchy, and I for one found it quite moving.”

You guess you can see it now that Mary’s pointed it out to you. He takes off the pumpkin, and you hold it while he goes over to talk to the woman. You shift uncomfortably as they engage, and she grabs his hands, shaking them profusely. Mary suddenly points over at you, and the woman waves and motions you over.

“Oh my god, look at you!” she squeals. She turns back to Mary. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it—she looks just like you.”

“I liked your patriarchal allegory,” you say.

Mary twists his mouth at you, but the woman just presses her hands to her chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m testing it out here as a protest piece. A bunch of us are going to travel to different cities and perform outside of big corporations.” She grabs Mary’s wrist. “Your boyfriend is wonderful. His song about—”

“—my band’s song—”

“—the nature of performative gender roles is one of my favs.”

You have no idea which song she’s talking about, but Mary looks pleased. So you’re pleased. You wrap your arm around his waist.

“He is pretty great.”

She lifts her veil to chug the glass of water Nazgul hands her.

“It was so nice to meet you person to person, Mary. I’m going to find the ladies before my next performance.”

“Love your work, Lizzy. I’ll put you on the list for our shows. Show up anytime!”

She bows and shuffles backwards as Mary leads you away.

“You have no idea what song she’s talking about do you?”

“I—” you sputter. “Uh. Dead Things?”

Mary looks at you indulgently.

“I’ll let you think about it.”

It turns out that the 5th floor is off limits to party goers, so Mary—back in his Jack O’Lantern—and you wander down to ground level to acquire more beer and to join the crowd of dancers. At some point the two of you take a break to pee, then hydrate as you add your own dialogue to the film on loop above you.

Back on the dance floor, there’s some skanking, some goth writhing, and some line dancing as the DJ spins his own set and sprinkles in some crowd requests. At this point in the night, most of the attendees have already made passes through the upper floors and are now all on the dance floor. Mary does some goth stomping (his pumpkin abandoned and now being passed around), and you do a silly skank until you slip on a slick spot and fall on your ass. After that, Mary pulls you close and grinds against you, his thigh between yours, both of you buzzed from multiple trips to the bar.

“Do you wanna find a corner?” he whispers into your ear.

In any other situation you’d probably say no … but—for all the crowd is packed—this is clearly a private party, one whose hosts don’t frown upon a little bit of lechery. You guess he wasn’t kidding about the orgy, after all.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

It takes a little investigation, but Mary and you find a room that seems to have been either designated or usurped as the makeout room. There’s a writhing mass in one corner, and the bed is covered in rolling bodies. There’re some breathy invitations—and a hand or two lightly caresses your calf as you walk by—but no one insists on participation further than that.

Mary yanks a pillow from the bed and tosses it to the floor. He pulls you down so that you’re both on your knees, his mouth capturing yours and his hands alighting everywhere. A hand of his sneaks down your skirt, and yours slithers down his jeans—the roving fingers of you each more a prelude than anything, stoking you both up to what’s next.

“Can I fuck you?” huffs Mary.

“Kinda drunk,” you say.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No—just not gonna be very useful,” you giggle.

Because you wore the fishnets you’re not wearing underwear, so all Mary has to do is rip a hole in the crotch area—they’re not even good fishnets, so it’s not like there’s a liner to contend with. He grunts at your wetness.

“You sure?”

“Fuck me, Mary.”

He fumbles with his dick, finally managing to sink it into you. It’s a very awkward fuck—you’re lolling all about the place, and Mary isn’t being particularly steady.

At one point a light turns on only for a Sorry! to squeal out as it turns off again.

You try to swallow your laugh, but your jiggling belly can’t hide your reaction, and soon Mary is laughing too.

“Fuck … shut up … fuck,” he giggles. “I’m trying to get off here.”

You’re just catapulted into further fits, and before long Mary’s soft cock is slipping out of you as he joins you in snickering.

“Crap. I might be too drunk for this too.”

The two of you lay like that for a bit, a feedback loop of laughter, until your belly muscles ache.

“Fuck. Take me home, Suey.”

“Yeah, ok,” you say.

After some readjusting, you both stumble out of the room. The crowd has thinned, but that’s not to say the dance party isn’t still going strong.

“We should get a cab,” you say.

“Cash?” Mary asks as you guys shuffle out of the building.

“App,” you say as you hold up your phone to poke at your cab app. “My card s’on file.”

“Fancy.”

“S’for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

You give him a lopsided grin. “Like staying too late at a factory party.”

There’s a comedy of errors when the cab can’t find you and cancels, and you have to rebook—only to have the same cab automatically cancel your order again. Mary calls the number for dispatch, and they direct you out to a main street. The cab that picks you up is the same cab that voided your reservation twice, and he yells at you for giving him the wrong address.

You let Mary argue with him (content to doze on his shoulder)—the conclusion seeming to be that while you put in the correct address, the app didn’t like it and spit out a close, but different, pickup address.

By the end of the trip, however, the cabbie and Mary seem to be old friends. He lingers even after the driver validates your card, talking with the guy about where he’s from, until you tug on his arm.

“Sleepy,” you grumble into him.

The cab driver laughs.

“We are beholden to our women, yes?”

“Happily,” says Mary as he wraps an arm around you.

“Have a good night,” says the cabbie, and Mary just raps on the car, waving as it pulls away.

“What a cool dude,” he says as the two of you shuffle toward your building.

“Mhm,” you mumble.

“Jesus, you’re useless when you’re drunk.”

There’s a lot of fumbling and stumbling, but you both finally make it into your apartment. Somehow Mary gets you into the shower, which you don’t even realize until it turns on, and you shriek when the cold water smacks you in the face before it has the chance to warm up.

“Why am I still in my clothes?!” you whine.

Mary pokes his head in.

“You fucking serious? You almost bit off my fingers when I tried to undress you!”

“I’m more than just sex!” you yell.

“Just fucking wash your face.”

“Kay.”

You fall asleep sitting in the shower, waking only when the water turns cold. It seems to have had a sobering effect, because you definitely feel more clear headed than when you entered—it’s not as funny to be slightly sober and peeling off your cold, wet clothes. Usually you give your teeth the full experience, but tonight (this morning?), you just give them a quick brush.

For all he seemed soberer of you two, Mary doesn’t seem to have fared much better. He managed to get his shirt off, but he’s lying on your bedroom floor—curled in a ball—still in his unbuckled jeans. It would be amusing—and maybe after sleep it will be—if you weren’t so wrecked. It’s a struggle tugging off his jeans, and he semi-wakes halfway through and starts to shiver.

“Wha—?”

He looks at you blearily.

“Help me get your pants off, Mare bear.”

He blinks down at his legs, then sort of squirms his legs to help you wiggle him out of the black denim. Luckily—disorientated as he is—he’s able to assist you in getting him into your bed; he conks out again the minute you trundle him under the covers. The night outside is lightening, and you know there’s no way you can work tomorrow. Today.

Whatever.

You shuffle into your living room and start up your laptop, blinking rapidly as it boots up. When it finally loads, you send off a missive to your supervisor about potential food poisoning you’ve contracted, but how you’ll check your email later this afternoon. You preemptively down some ibuprofen and sneak some of Mary’s Pedialyte.

Mary seems dead to the world when you climb into your bed, but he’s rolling over and wrapped around you as soon as you’re settled, huffing into your neck.

“Took the morning off,” you mumble.

He hums.

You’re in a good doze when he speaks, jarring you back awake.

“Had fun?”

“Yeah, Mare. Now, shh.”

He mumbles something into your neck, but it’s too incoherent and you’re too knackered to decipher it. You just relax into his koala embrace and let sleep take you.

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

#mary goore #ofc #feral cats fic #gritty girls #gutter punk #my writing #original post #no smut #...kinda #original content

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softbiker · 5 years ago

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Born to Run - Chapter 2

Warnings: some language, secondhand embarrassment

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: What a gif to use amirite ;) Thank y’all so much for your responses to the first chapter! It was so encouraging, which is why I’m 2 chapters ahead on the writing for this fic lol. So keep telling me what you think! <3

“We have a few appointments set for today,” Charlotte, the front desk nurse, was saying. “But they’re just wellness checkups, so nothing crazy.”

Y/N nodded, tucking a pen into the pocket of her lab coat. “So these are regular patients?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yep, the usual. It’s a small town, so you’ll see the same faces plenty while you’re here.” She sipped water from her large tumbler as she pulled a floral desk calendar from under her keyboard. “But we also provide some urgent care services, since it’s a 30 minute drive to the nearest emergency room. So don’t be surprised when we get some walk-ins.”

“That’s alright I guess,” Y/N shrugged. “Good to stay busy.”

To say she was nervous about her first real day as a real doctor would be an understatement. Sure, she wouldn’t have many patients - not in a primary care clinic in the middle of nowhere - and the stakes were probably low, but still. She had tossed and turned the night before, eventually hopping out of bed at 5:00 am and slipping her running shoes on. Jogging through her little neighborhood and down the highway for an hour or so before dawn had transferred her first day jitters into adrenaline, but she couldn’t distract herself now. This was the real deal.

But it turned out the real deal moved at a glacial pace - at least in a town like this. Y/N saw a grand total of 5 patients, all of whom were in mostly good health, with the exception of one boil that needed lancing. The rest were just fine, a bit chatty when they met their new doctor, undoubtedly a subject of town gossip. They were eager to fill her in on the local news and suggest churches and social clubs for her to try. She nodded and made noncommittal comments to every invitation. No unscheduled patients had wandered in either, so she had far too much down time to sit in her office and refresh her inbox, waiting for emails from friends and former colleagues as they all settled in to new lives and new cities and new hospitals. None came.

Y/N sighed as she climbed into her car, and leaned her head back against the seat. Doing nothing was almost more exhausting than being busy. She just wanted to get home, pour a glass of wine, and lay around on her couch. And eat dinner. Which she would have to cook...with groceries she didn’t have. Fuck.

Grocery store it is.

Even a remote town like this one managed to have a Walmart somehow - not a huge one, but big enough to have the necessities. The fluorescent lighting made the inside of the store look dingy and gray, desperately in need of a remodel. Y/N pushed her cart up and down the aisles, grabbing items at random now that her growling stomach made everything look appetizing. She made sure she had quick ingredients for the night’s dinner - a simple chicken spaghetti, a mouthwatering recipe from her best friend.

She turned up the baking aisle, ready to head back to the front of the store. While mentally calculating the time left standing between now and her dinner, a box on the right caught her eye. Top shelf. Brownie mix. Supreme fudge. Oh hell yeah.

The shelf seemed a little high at first glance, but surely they wouldn’t put common items like brownie mix out of reach of the customer? Y/N left her cart parked in the middle of the aisle and stepped up to the shelf, lifting up on her tiptoes and stretching her arm as far as she could. The tips of her fingers could just touch the bottom of the box, but it wasn’t enough to get a grip on it. Tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, she strained harder, her other hand gripping the lower shelves for support. No dice.

A little grunt of frustration passed her lips and she stepped back, hands on her hips. Now it was just a matter of pride - she couldn’t just give up and walk away from these brownies. That was more pathetic than buying them and eating the batter alone in her kitchen, which was her original plan. With a sigh, she stepped back up to the shelf and jumped, trying to knock the box over into her hand. The first attempt failed, as did the second, but on the third she managed to tap the box enough to make one corner stick out a quarter inch over the edge of the shelf. Just as she was preparing for one last jump to claim her prize, she heard a throat clearing behind her.

She whipped around, feeling exposed as she had left her dignity behind before the first desperate hop for her brownie mix. Her cheeks burned even hotter as she met the eyes of her witness...her very tall, handsome witness. Broad shoulders under a buttery soft leather jacket, his long hair brushing the collar and

Oh shit that’s my neighbor

“Um,” he smiled, shifting his weight. “Do you need some help with that?” He gestured to the frustrating box on the top shelf.

Y/N’s brain needed a moment to catch up - she hadn’t yet seen him this close, hadn’t heard his voice, hadn’t seen him at all since that one moment in the driveway on the afternoon she arrived. He was a lot to take in.

“Yeah, uh sure,” she backed up from the shelf and pointed. “It’s that one. The, um, ‘supreme fudge’ kind.”

His smile widened (was that a dimple?) and he stepped forward, easily reaching up and plucking the mix from its place. Y/N forced her eyes away from his abs as his t-shirt lifted away from the hem of his jeans. When he turned back and offered her the box, his bright blue eyes were on her face.

“Here you go. One supreme fudge,” he teased, smirk creeping up the side of his mouth. Y/N took the box with both hands and held it to her chest.

“Thanks, you’re a real life-saver,” she laughed, self-conscious.

“And here I thought that was your job?”

Y/N’s brow wrinkled, until he nodded towards her clothes and she remembered she was still wearing her scrubs.

“Oh! Right,” she wrinkled her nose in embarrassment. “Well, I definitely didn’t save any lives today, so. You’re doing better than me.”

“Hm. I doubt that.”

The conversation lulled, but he stayed planted in front of her cart. He settled his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, seeming to have no intention of leaving. Y/N took a deep breath and forged ahead.

“It’s...Mr. Barnes I think? I’m sorry I never got a first name.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, it’s just, uh, just Bucky. How’d you know…?”

“Oh, Mr. Van Horn told me you were my neighbor when he gave me the keys the other day. I’m living in his mother’s house -”

“Across the street, yeah!” he blurted, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “That’s how I recognized you, I just couldn’t place it.” He shook his head, laughing at himself. “God, I’m sorry, must’ve seemed rude, I didn’t even introduce myself or ask your name.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waved him off, sticking her hand out and giving him her name, still relishing the ‘Dr.’ title. “But you can just call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, his grip gentle but firm. His eyes flicked back and forth between hers, bright and searching. He took a breath to say something else, when his gaze shifted, locking on something behind her. His posture stiffened and he jerked his hand back, jaw tightening.

“See you around,” he said coldly, shoulder bumping hers as he strode past her down the aisle. Y/N turned in confusion, trying to see what had changed his mood so abruptly. But the only thing she could see at the end of the aisle was a discarded candy wrapper, soon crackled under Bucky’s heavy boot. Then he was gone.

Y/N’s lips pursed in a frustrated pout. Two strikes Barnes.

That night, as she sipped wine from her grandma bed in her grandma house, she scrolled through social media on her phone in a vain attempt to feel close to her friends. Engagement, pregnancy, travel, engagement. Scoffing, she tossed her phone to the side and hunkered down in the bed. She stared at the popcorn ceiling, tiny glitter particles glinting in the lamplight. The wine in her glass was drained to the last drop and she twirled the stem absentmindedly.

She went over the scene in the baking aisle again and again, wondering if she had said something wrong and offended Bucky somehow. His dismissal was just so strange. On a whim, she snatched up her phone again and typed his name into Facebook. A few Bucky Barnes’s, but none that looked like him. She tried Instagram and Twitter with the same result. No social media presence, in this day and age? So fucking strange.

Outside the house, an engine started up, revving a couple of times before the sound retreated down the street.

Good riddance.

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #biker!bucky #biker!au

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this-is-a-chat-astrophe · 5 years ago

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Oblivious ch 11

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11

AO3

Chat ponders over Marinette and Ladybug getting the same injury at the same time while he vaults his way back to school. An ankle sprain is a common injury, but the timing is enough to make him suspicious. Normally he wouldn’t even consider Marinette as Ladybug because their personalities were so different, but recently Marinette has changed around him. She has become stiff and, for lack of a better word, awkward. Just like Ladybug is with Chat Noir. Thinking back, he realizes that Marinette was like this with Chat Noir as well, during the Evillustrator fiasco and when they first became friends.

He tries to think about how Ladybug acts and realizes that he never really paid attention. He recalls her being timid in her conversation and banter, fierce only when directly in battle. They’re partners and he thinks of her as a friend but they aren’t very close. Chat realizes that he knows nothing about his partner and he’s ashamed. He feels as if he’s failed her as a partner and a friend. The thought distracts him from his original train of thought and it doesn’t return that day.

____________

Tom and Sabine feel bad sending Marinette to school on her own using crutches. They had hoped that there would be enough of a lull in the bakery for one of them to escort her, but the breakfast rush and a last-minute order leave them too busy to see her off. She must face the walk alone.

Thankfully, her parents made for certain that she would be awake and ready on-time, so Marinette is not in her usual frazzled rush.

It is a small miracle that Marinette, as clumsy as she is, makes it to class without any problems. She actually makes it to class early enough to be the first one there.

Marinette is trying to pull herself up the step to her seat when Nino arrives.

“Hey Marinette! Need some help?”

“No thanks Nino, I’ve got this,” she says, waving him off with one hand. This leaves her weight unevenly distributed between her left leg and right arm on the crutch. She leans dangerously to the side.

Nino dives in to catch her, helping her stand back upright. “Maybe you should take my seat, dude.”

Marinette accepts the offer, knowing that otherwise she may end up with two injured ankles from trying to battle the step, and lets Nino guide her to his side of the bench. He stands in front of her and they chat as the room fills up. A few minutes later, Alya shows up, and Adrien is the last of their group to arrive.

To say Adrien is excited about their new seating arrangement is an understatement. He’s ecstatic, almost bouncing in his seat at the chance to sit next to Marinette.

“How long are you on crutches?” Adrien asks, really wanting to know how long this seating arrangement will last.

“They told me to use them for at least a week.”

Alya leans forward in her seat, lingering over Marinette’s shoulder. “Are you planning to walk around all by yourself? Knowing you, you’ll have a cast by tomorrow.”

Marinette chuckles awkwardly. “I made it to class fine this morning. I can do it!”

The offer escapes his lips before he can even stop to think if it is possible. “We can drive you! To school and home from school, I mean. I’m sure Gorilla won’t mind.” Adrien smiles, thinking that any way he could help Marinette is worth the repercussions.

Marinette is about to say no when she remembers Chat Noir’s words from the other night. Her heart is there so why not give him a chance, one step at a time. “Nes! I mean, yo!” Marinette flails her arms, already regretting opening her mouth. “I mean, yes please!.” She rests her arms on her desk and drops her head onto them with a huff.

The teacher arrives and Marinette needs to lift her flushed face out from its hiding place. She feels the breath of Alya’s laughter on the back of her neck and sinks further into her seat.

____________________________

After school, Nino and Alya excuse themselves first, Adrien alone to help Marinette out of the school. In the car, when they are parked in front of the Dupain-Cheng bakery and Marinette has her good foot on the ground and her crutches halfway inside the car and halfway outside, Adrien comes around and grabs the crutches from her.

Adrien leans the crutches against the car and holds out a hand to help Marinette up. Marinette is grateful for the hand and lets him help her out of the car, minimizing the amount of pressure she has to put on her bad ankle.

He’s sweet. She already knew this, but she can feel it now in the gentle way his hand wraps around her waist in a quick hug before he opens the bakery door for her. Once she’s passed the threshold of the bakery, the strong scent of baking bread blowing through, he waves and bids her goodbye.

She stands there in front of the door, face flushed, until her dad comes over to move her out of the way so customers can use the door. “Sorry, Papa!”

“How’s your ankle doing, Marinette?” he asks, leading her gently to the counter.

Marinette realizes that she may be stuck in the bakery until someone has time to walk her upstairs. She curses their home for having so many stairs and no elevator. She’ll probably have to move into the living room for the time being so she doesn’t hurt herself more on the stairs to her room, the same way she earned her injury.

Thankfully it doesn’t take long until there is a lull in customers and her father has a few spare minutes to escort her upstairs. She tells him her thoughts on staying in the living room for a while, and he says he’ll help her move some stuff after the bakery closes. For now, she can hunker down on the couch and work on homework.

She tries to be a diligent student, really she does, but her mind keeps wandering to the gentle way Adrien held her, the kindness of his offer to escort her to school and back. He’s incredibly sweet, and that’s why she’s developed a crush on him.

That’s why she’s considering giving up on Chat Noir. Chat hasn’t expressed any interest in her, inside or outside of the mask, and he told her to give Adrien a try, so why not? Her heart is there so it’s not like she’s considering dating him just because she’s lonely. It may seem like he’s just a consolation prize, given that Chat Noir is the one she liked first and who technically turned her away, but she really does care about him. Anyone, including her, would be lucky to date Adrien. If he would want to date her, of course. She blushes at the thought.

She doesn’t get much schoolwork done, too busy dreaming.

#oblivious #miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #reverse love square #ml fanfic #my drabbles

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chiauve · 5 years ago

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The Man in the Dark - 2

“That’s enough TV for today,” Ally’s mother said, glaring down at her daughter the couch potato.

“But it’s a new season,” Ally argued, but at another look from her mom she paused her program and exited to the home screen before the remote was straight up taken from her and she lost her place.

Her mom had that look.

“I got a call from your teacher this afternoon. She says you haven’t been turning in your homework.”

Because she hadn’t been doing it, but Ally knew better than to say that. She also knew better than to argue that it was boring because adults didn’t care that it was boring just that it was important and had to be done. Instead of denying it or arguing Ally just gave a shamefaced pout.

Her mother sighed. “Alright then, until your grades are back up, no more TV and from now on I’m taking your phone and tablet after dinner. You can have them back in the morning before school.”

That got her attention. Ally spun around on the couch, facing her mother with large, beseeching eyes. “But I need my tablet if I’m gonna do homework!”

“You can use the family computer so you don’t get distracted.”

“But—“

“That’s final, Ally. You don’t need to be chatting with your friends or making videos that late anyway.”

Ally slumped back down into the couch, arms crossed and almost ready to throw a tantrum if she wasn’t aware she was too old for that. Spending her night hours stuck at her homework was a fate worse than death. Unless she could fake getting it done first...

“It’s easier to do my homework at Dad’s work. Can I go there after school instead? Until I do better?”

Her mother eyed her a minute and then shrugged. “All right. I’ll ask your Dad if he’s okay with that.”

“So I can keep my tablet tonight?”

“Fine, we’ll see how things go, but no more TV tonight.”

“Yes, mom.”

Back in her room, the door safely shut, Ally flipped through the photos of her recent foray into the basement levels on her tablet, mostly the ones from the bottom-most level. The large, empty room was intriguing in its emptiness; there were slats in the floor for something, and large chains lay discarded. It sent shivers down her spine looking at them even in the comfort of her bed.

Finally she reached the pictures of the keypad with its single little red light. Why was it still active? The entire floor was dead, even the water pipes and air cut off.

What was in there?

While some things remained on the lowest floors, they were items that could be replaced or that were no longer needed. Anything still of value was locked up on the second basement level, everything else below left to be forgotten.

There was probably nothing in that room at all, something was just left on by accident. Like the broken doors.

Or there was something really important in there. Or really scary.

She peered at the photo of the keypad closely, zooming in on the numbers. Some were darker than others, possibly pressed more? But even if she got the combination right, would the door even open? It had been sealed for years now, it could be stuck.

Well she wouldn’t know until she checked it, and she had every intent to try tomorrow. While she still managed to hold onto her bravery.

At the BSAA office building, Ally went to her supposed study space first, waiting until people coming and going settled in for the last few hours of work. When things got quieter she picked up and went straight to the basement, creeping onto the first level and then hurrying through each subsequent one, still remembering her rituals of Descent, until she reached the Last Door.

Ally paused in the doorway, faced with that dank, silent hall.

There was something down there. Something locked away.

Her fear crept in. She’d seen enough movies and heard enough stories in her life to know that things that were buried were never supposed to be unburied and when they were only bad things happened. Her fear begged her to go back upstairs, to stay away from this horrible prison.

But Ally took a step forward. And then another. She came from a line of BSAA folk, whether they were tied to a desk or not, and would not back down. She walked to the end where that tiny little red light blazed in this black place. She shone her light on the keypad.

There were numbers and the largest button on the bottom still had the O for ‘open’ visible. Skipping the numbers, she pressed that. Her finger sunk into a layer of grime and she couldn’t tell if the button actually pressed but she listened.

Nothing. She pressed it again, hard. Still nothing. Frowning, Ally began to run through combinations of the darkened numbers, over and over. She’d gone through so many when she began to fear she’d need a keycard as well, and that whatever was here was going to stay hidden forever.

The light turned green and there was a heavy, slow clunk and a release of hydraulics. The door shrieked and then only moved an inch before it got stuck on the track. There was a shivering noise from within that made the hair on Ally’s arms stand on end. She grabbed the door and shoved and was hit in the face with a blast of foul, fetid air rank with rot and she staggered back and gagged. Her lunch crawled up her throat and much as it revolted her she decided to let it go and turned and puked in a corner.

Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope nope...

She never smelled anything that awful and disgusting in her life. The closest she ever smelled was when a squirrel had fallen down their chimney and died on the shut flue and they didn’t know until it started to rot and the smell got in the house.

Something died in that locked room, was still dying.

Tears rolled down her face and she cried, spitting the taste of sick out of her mouth. She wanted to run; she did her job as an explorer and found something she shouldn’t have. Good enough, get back above, now.

She spat again and then froze.

There was that shivering noise again.

Something was moving in there, a lot of something.

She had to know.

Taking a deep breath of stale air that now seemed fresh in comparison to that, Ally pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose and crept to the door again, her light dancing around erratically as her hand shook. She shoved the door hard and it reluctantly moved along the track, a few inches at a time. She could finally enter and slid the flashlight beam around the room.

Hundreds of red eyes stared back at her. A large pile of rats hunkered in the middle of the room and shrieked at her as her light struck them before they fled, scattering all ways and vanishing back into the dark. Ally yelped and backed out, making sure the rats weren’t following, and then slowly crept in again.

There was still something on the floor, a pile of black and red and brown that wasn’t rats. It wasn’t moving at all.

The smell was so terrible Ally had to step back out in the hall again, gasping and gagging. When she re-entered the red eyes of the rats were back, watching her. She shone her light at them and they disappeared. She took a slow couple of steps towards the pile in the room and her unease began to grow further.

Whatever it was, it was chained down. Enormous chains as thick as her arms criss-crossed several times over the form, the links vanishing into slats on the floor. It was lying in a puddle of red, thick and dried with rat droppings.

It was wet.

She froze and stared in horror. Open wounds were weeping blood and clear fluids slowly, some exposing the white of bone. What might have once been clothes were shredded to near nothing, bared skin so filthy and infected it was discolored.

It was breathing. Or at least it looked like it was breathing. No, it was her shaking light, playing tricks on her. Had to be. She’d been exploring these dark places long enough to know that’s what the dark did. It was a trickster and liked to play, to confuse.

Against her better judgment, she took another step, her light on the bloody pile on the floor. Her free hand raised her phone for a picture, and the flash went off.

It was slight but unmistakable this time. One end of the pile moved, a swatch of matted, filthy hair shifted and Ally was met with a single eye. It was red and reptilian and, locking onto her, began to glow.

The pile moved now, tensed against the chains, and then there was a clacking and a hefty clunk as the chains were pulled down with sharp force from below, several links pulled into the slats in the floor, forcing the pile, the thing, back down violently. The head, for it was unmistakable that’s what it was now, threw back and a blackened mouth opened in a pain-filled scream, but there was no sound. A rush of air and bubbling blood and remnants of dead flesh splattered the floor in front of its trapped face.

Ally screamed in its stead and ran, nearly slipping on the grime. She grabbed the door and forced it shut, putting as much between her and that awful rotting thing as she could, and then she ran and didn’t stop running until she reached the light of the main floor, until she reached a bathroom. She locked herself in a stall and threw up again, though nothing came up but she kept trying, trying to purge the smell, the rot, the terror from her little body.

Ally sat on the floor and scoot into the corner, clutching her backpack and started sobbing.

She should have known better. She should have.

What was that horrible thing?

She wanted nothing more than to run to her father and beg him to take her home. She’d never explore down below again, honest! Just make whatever that was go away!

But she was too scared to move, too horrified, and after long minutes of crying adrenaline leaked out of her and left her exhausted on the bathroom floor, hiccuping.

She finally got up and left the stall, staring at herself in the mirror. She splashed cold water on her face to try to get rid of the puffiness.

In a strange, relaxed daze, Ally wandered back to her usual place to do homework and sat down. She didn’t even pretend to work, but stared at the shoddy picture on her phone.

The flash lit the pile well enough, but the picture was blurred from shaking. Still, she could make out the form now. There was a head, the large hunch in the pile were shoulders, it tapered down to hips and then legs. A man-like figure, chained down on its side in a puddle of filth.

Ally hands gripped her phone tightly, the very image making her shake not only from her experience but from the horrible stories her grandpa used to tell her.

There was a BOW down there, a trapped zombie forgotten in the basement when all else had been cleared out.

She wouldn’t run to her dad, not yet. She wasn’t a little kid. And she didn’t want to surrender her explorer title just yet. This was still a mystery. She’d solve it first, and then be a good girl and tell her dad there was a monster down below.

She took a long, deep breath, and reminded herself to dig out her old bat from the closet for next time.

#resident evil #albert wesker #body horror #gore #kinda #the man in the dark #fanfic

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 6 years ago

Text

When You Least Expect It, Part Seven

Jensen x Musician!Reader; Nathan (OMC); Mama Mia (OFC)

Also featured this chapter: Rob Benedict, Briana Buckmaster, Jason Manns

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part seven is from BOTH POVs. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.

Series Playlist: “When You Least Expect It” (Spotify). Songs in this chapter include: “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around”; “What About Love”, “The Joker”; “Whipping Post”

Beta’d by @closetspngirl who has contributed so much to this fic! Thank you for not only indulging my lunacy but encouraging it with gusto! She also put together the amazing wardrobe shown in this chapter, as well. I don’t know what I would do without you!!!

Chapter Summary: Realizing that its time to leave NJ again to get back to work on the festival and have a much-needed conversation with Jensen, Y/N meets up with everyone at ChiCon. This gives finally gives her a moment with Jensen and an added bonus of playing with Louden Swain, featuring Briana Buckmaster, on stage for a crowded ballroom; something that affects Jensen more than he was expecting it too.

Chapter Warnings: Ehhh... nothing really.

WC: 9.5K

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online

It had been one month since Y/N left Austin and came back to New Jersey. One month of awkward texts with Jensen related only to work, daily calls or texts from Briana and at least one Skype or FaceTime call from Robbie every few days. When it came to the amount of work and scouting to be done for the festival, the little man was a bundle of nerves and Y/N was the only one who seemed to be able to talk him down.

February came, and that’s when the first real pangs of doubt began to creep in. The life she had begun in Texas was beginning to fade, and she found herself missing it. Y/N missed the townhouse and living so close to a city like Austin with the diversity in the restaurants, the bars, the bands, the nightlife… and of course, there was Jensen. She missed all of it. Not that life in New Jersey had been boring or lackluster. Y/N had gone back to work for Leo temporarily since she was handling both ends of the transactions now for the Brewfest. Being back in her small office in his hotel, living in the bungalow again felt good, but the longer the cold winds of winter at the shore blew through and chilled her to the bone, the more she really missed Austin.

It wasn’t all work, though. She had a couple of occasions to play at one of the bars that were still open in Seaside during the winter, as well as reconnect with a few friends from the Burlesque group. Y/N had even spent some time with Nathan, though when she did, she made sure to keep her guard up, be wary of any promises he made or plans he tried to get her to agree too. Reminiscing with him was a trap that was easier to fall into than she thought it would be, and after the third time they met for coffee, she invited him to go have dinner. Once or twice a week in the time she was home, she would run into him in town, or make plans to hang out. Y/N always tried to keep it in a public place, and never let him get too close. She was doing her best to follow Bri’s advice and figure out what it was she wanted from, not just Nathan, but life itself.

In between all of that, was Jensen. Y/N thought of him every day, and on more than one occasion picked up the phone to actually call him. However, knowing that he was traveling from Vancouver to conventions and back for the foreseeable future, she decided against it. After the way they left things, she thought maybe a random phone call wouldn’t be the best move and wanted to wait until she could see him face to face. When that would be, she didn’t know, but by the time Groundhog Day had rolled around, she felt ready to make it happen soon.

The morning she woke up with the intention to make arrangements to fly back, a winter storm warning had gone into effect, ultimately grounding all flights in or out of the area. Y/N knew the drill and began to run the errands necessary to hunker down for the long haul, getting supplies for two to three days at least. By the time she reached the bungalow and filled the small pellet stove in the corner of the room, the snow had started falling.

As a kid, seeing the beach turn from the beige sand, to white snow had always been sort of magical. Watching the waves crash and spray the icy mist into the swirling flakes made her feel like she was experiencing something majestic, and it always left her feeling a little whimsical and reflective. That’s what she was doing when she heard the knock at the door several hours later, just as the storm was hitting its peak.

Pulling the crocheted blanket around her shoulders, Y/N went to the front door and opened it enough to see who it was.

“Nathan?” she asked, then opened it further and with it came a burst of cold, snowy air. “Come in before the snow does.” She ushered him in and closed the door quickly. “What are you doing here?”

He removed his scarf and hat, shaking off the snow that littered his shoulders and boots. “I came by to make sure you were alright. Didn’t know if you realized that cell service is sketchy, wanted to be sure you had everything you needed.”

“Yeah, I saw the winter storm advisory last night, made sure to hit the market this morning. Don’t tell me you walked all the way here from Seaside Park. That’s a few miles at least.”

“No, I have my dad’s truck,” he said then paused before unzipping his coat. Y/N could see in his eyes he came not just to check up on her, but because he wanted to stay a while.

“I’m fine, Nathan. Just watching the snow, reading and staying warm. I have everything I need.”

“Ok,” he said and half turned back to the door, then faced her again. He wore that crooked grin that she used to love so much. “Well then, maybe you need some company?”

“Sure. But I am going to tell you now, you can’t stay the night. You have to leave before the sun goes down.”

“Of course, Y/N. I just thought we could hang out for a bit.”

“Want some tea?”

“No,” he laughed. “I hate that stuff. I’ll take a soda if you got any, though.”

“Sorry, fresh out,” she said, but there’s water or juice in the fridge.

“Sweet,” he replied as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack, then removed his boots before heading to the refrigerator and helping himself.

Y/N strolled back to the couch and reclaimed her place near the window that overlooked the ocean. She brought her knees up into her chest and watched Nathan as he moved about the kitchen and the living room just as naturally as he did in the old days. When he finally sat, he took the spot on the opposite end of the same couch she was on and rested his arm along the back of it.

Whenever Y/N and Nathan saw each other while she was visiting this time around, things were always awkward in the beginning. It didn’t matter if it was just for coffee, or on the few occasions that she actually let him take her to dinner. It was almost as if neither of them knew what to do with the situation or what to say to one another. But given enough time, they would end up finding a comfortable conversation.

Some of the time she’d watch him as he talked and recognize the man she used to love; same high cheekbones, same crooked smile, and sandy brown hair. Only now, his hair was short instead of the shoulder length it was when they were younger. His sky blue eyes were still able to lock her in and make her wonder how it had all gone so wrong between them. He had been the love of her life, her prince charming, the man who was going to save her from the kind of life that you grew up promising yourself you’d never live. But it had all gone so, so wrong.

She considered asking him, potentially broaching a long overdue conversation that they needed to have; especially if there was any possibility of a future. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to start. She tried to hide the smile that wanted to come when she wondered what Bri would say about that, but it quickly faded when she realized how much she missed Bri, too. That would make her thoughts circle back around to Austin, again, and how much she longed to go back.

“Hey, haven’t seen these in a long time,” he said and leaned forward, and plucked one of the photo albums from underneath the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah…” she replied and craned her neck over to see which one he picked up. They had been there since she showed Jensen the pictures from Grease, which now felt like a million years ago.

“Holy shit, high school pictures,” he laughed and started flipping through the album.

Over the course of the next hour, Y/N sat a foot or two away, yet enjoyed talking about old times with him. It felt good to laugh with Nathan again; it felt good to have her friend back. She didn’t notice that he was inching closer and closer until suddenly the arm that had been draped around the back of the couch was now brushing against her shoulder.

Nathan continued shaking memories loose; he brought up their junior prom, and how they had spent the night on the beach under the Tiki bar, getting drunk and screwing around until dawn before falling asleep together wrapped up in a blanket. She was smiling at the recollection, enjoying the feeling it brought back into her life when she felt his fingers toying with a tuft of her hair.

“I’ve really missed this,” he said softly. “A lot. I’m glad you’ve let me back in and gave me a chance to make it up to you.”

“Nathan, I… I don’t know--”

He inched closer, and what he did next surprised her. Before she could react, Nathan was brushing his lips against hers. Her eyes stayed open, but his drifted closed. It only lasted for a moment, but in that time Y/N realized that she knew everything she needed to know. She didn’t push him away, even though something inside of her told her too. Y/N kissed him back, but timidly, and without passion. His lips parted against hers, making it clear that he wanted it to escalate, but after a moment, Y/N broke away.

She retreated from him and brought her fingers up, pressing them gently to her lips. “Nathan... “

“Don’t, ok? Don’t say it was a mistake. Just, promise me that you won’t shut down on me. If I was being pushy--”

“It’s not that,” Y/N said and swallowed hard. “I care about your recovery, Nate. Seeing how well you’re doing has even allowed me to start forgiving you. But in the spirit of honesty, you should know that I’m not ready to be with you again. I don’t know if I ever will be. That doesn’t mean there is someone else. It means that I am going back to Austin, and I am focusing on work and don’t want anything sort of romantic entanglements.”

“Oh,” he sighed, clearly disappointed. “That doesn’t mean we have to say goodbye though, right? Can I still call you? Keep in touch?”

“Sure,” she said, and genuinely meant it. “As long as you understand, that, for now, I just want to be your friend.”

She watched him process this and had a second where she didn’t know how he would react. He wasn’t the same Nate she knew most of her life, and yet he wasn’t the last version she knew, either. Nathan was turning into a product of both of those men, and she was still learning his mannerisms and couldn’t always tell what he was going to do.

Nathan made it clear he wanted her back, and this rejection could be dangerous if he wasn’t as far into his recovery as he had said. But once his shoulders relaxed, and he picked his head up to meet her gaze, he smiled more like the Nate of long ago.

“Of course, Y/N. I get it. I’m going to keep showing you that you can trust me again though.”

“You just keep doing what’s best for you, Nate. That’s what would make me the happiest.”

Y/N’s cell began ringing in the with the familiar tone of Robbie’s FaceTime calls. She hesitated to answer it, but also didn’t want to miss out on a chance to talk to him knowing there were some meetings coming up they needed to prep for.

“Excuse me,” she said to Nathan and got up from the couch, pulling the cell out of her pocket as she did.

Y/N moved through the room and stood at the precipice of the hallway as she answered the call.

“Hey Robbie, what’s shakin’?” she answered in greeting.

“Thank God you picked up. When are you coming back, lady? I need you in Austin. I won’t be able to get back to there for another week or so. Any chance you’re heading back soon?”

“I’m working on it Robert,” she replied with a sigh. “The damned snow, however, has other plans.”

“Soon-ish, then?”

“Yes, my darling. Soonish. Honestly, as soon as the airports open up, I’m getting a ticket and will be on my way.”

“Did he tell you that the TCAC meeting was pushed back to the end of February?” Robbie asked into the camera, and the concern she saw on his face made her feel guilty.

“No,” she answered softly.

Her disappointment was not lost on Robbie. He hesitated, not wanting to make her feel worse, though he knew Jensen had been avoiding her. He didn’t have all the details about what happened between them but knew enough to know something had. “He’s been crazy busy, you know. Traveling like a lunatic. I’m sure he just forgot.”

“I’m sure,” she agreed and immediately wanted to change the subject. “So, the grant proposals? Any word?”

“Yes! Actually,” Robbie paused, relieved that she was the one to shift gears and shuffled through some papers that were off screen. He held up two and smiled victoriously. “We got two approvals! One from the Austin Creative Alliance and another just came through yesterday from one of the Federal ones. Buuuttt… can’t seem too…” he drifted off to the side, leaning out of the camera frame again.

Y/N chuckled. “Rob, it’s fine, come on back.”

She shifted away from the wall by the hallway and wandered into the kitchen to put the tea kettle back on the stove. As she did, Rob came back into view and noticed Nathan in the background of her call.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company. I won’t keep ya while I look for it.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah… that’s ok. My friend Nate dropped by to be sure I was stocked up for the storm. He’s leaving soon, so if you need to go over more stuff later, I’ll be here.”

“Oh great. The band and I are going in to talk to a guy about some stuff coming up, so maybe I will give you a call later. This way you can be totally caught up before heading back to Austin. Which reminds me… did you make your travel arrangements yet for Boston or San Diego?”

“Yes. I am heading to Boston, San Diego and Seattle starting end of February through March. Couple days in each to secure all the contracts with the vendors. Oh, New Orleans, too.”

“Perfect. That means you’ll be back and able to head to Chicago with us, right? Same weekend as ChiCon? Thought we could meet up there and go check out a few bands.”

“Works for me,” Y/N said, and then realized that there would be no avoiding Jensen that weekend.

“Fantastic, you’re a gem, you know that?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Robert.”

“Love it when you call me Robert,” he teased. “Ok, they’re yelling for me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Bye,” she chuckled and ended the video call. She returned the phone to her pocket and continued to fix herself a cup of tea.

“So, work friend?” Nathan asked, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen now that her call was through.

“Yes.”

“Nice guy?”

“Yes, he is.”

Nathan nodded, leaned back against the counter and noticed she had only one cup out. “If you wanted me to go, you could just say so. I mean, you told him I was leaving soon. One cup out…”

Y/N sighed softly and tried to not turn the visit sour. “I thought you hated tea? Besides, it’s getting late. As well as things have been between us, I am not ready for you to stay here. With the weather being what it is, you probably should head back to your mom’s. I’m sure she could use your help with your dad being laid up with his foot in a cast. Can’t be easy for her to manage this weather on her own.”

He nodded, though she could see him straining to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m not trying to shut you out, Nathan. I genuinely have enjoyed hanging out with you again. You know, after all that shit happened--with the fight, and your life spiraling out of control--I never thought you’d be you again. Or that I would even be able to stand to be in the same room as you. But, here we are. Can’t that be enough for now?”

Nathan’s shoulders relaxed. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Not if you want this to continue.” She was blunt, but she needed to be. Y/N didn’t want to take any chances where Nathan was concerned.

“Alright,” he finally replied and pushed off the counter. He went to take his coat off the hook and as he laced his arms through the sleeves, turned to face her again. “I’m grateful you’re giving me another chance, Y/N. I am. So, you call the shots, ok? I know you’re busy, but maybe once your traveling calms down, I can even come to visit you in Austin. Never been to Texas before.”

The idea of him in Austin felt strange. There was a sudden fear that if the two different parts of her life came together like that it would blow up her entire world in some glorious fashion. Trying to neither encourage or discourage the idea of his visit, she simply shrugged, found her most pleasant smile and nodded.

Nathan moved across the kitchen and took her in an embrace before she had the chance to say no. It was a familiar feeling; similar to what one experience when finding an old winter coat they hadn’t worn in years. It may not fit properly anymore, but the quilting of the fabric brought back pleasant memories.

“Call me, ok?” he said before releasing her.

“Sure thing. Take care of yourself, Nate.”

When Nate opened the door to go, the wind whipped through and the day’s fading light allowed him just enough time to get home before going completely dark. When the door latched shut behind him, she felt a mild sense of relief that she was alone again. There were still a lot of things she wanted to have time to mull over before returning to Austin, especially before seeing Jensen again in Chicago. The extended trip home had been good for her, despite the reasons she ended up there. It allowed her time to be sure that Austin and the job were the things she truly loved and wanted in her life.

Even the time she spent with Nate had been helpful in coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t something that had to stand in her way anymore. Her feelings for Jensen were still confusing and muddled, but in her heart, Y/N felt sure that her time as Nate’s girlfriend had come to an end. Though unexpected, the kiss they had shared that night cemented that. She could find room in her heart for him as a friend, but there was no future for them as a couple.

Lost in thoughts, Y/N didn’t move from the counter until the kettle began to whistle behind her. She flipped off the burner, and as she poured the hot water into the cup, she felt determined to settle the Jensen business. With so many of her other uncertainties fading away, she wanted this one too as well. Taking her cell phone back out of her pocket, she went to the contacts in her messaging app and pulled up “Mama”. If anyone could help her sort things out, it would be that tall drink of water.

<<Hey, any chance you’re around once snowmaggedon stops?

It only took about ten seconds for her to respond.

>>I’ve always got time for you, sugar. Whatcha thinkin’?

<<Rehearsal?

>>Cancelled.

<<Damn. Ok, snow should be done by midnight. Coffee at my place in the AM?

>>Be there with bells on.

<<Knowing you, I expect nothing less. Luv u!

>>Back atcha

The following morning dawned bright, with a clear sky and a snowy beach that reflected the colors of sunrise. Mama was knocking on Y/N’s door by quarter past nine, holding a pastry box in one hand and a garment bag in the other.

Y/N opened the door to greet her, and immediately broke out into laughter as she realized that Mama was wearing sleigh bells in her hair.

“You’re a freak,” Y/N laughed and gave the woman a big wet kiss on her cheek. “But you’re my freak.”

“Always and forever,” Mama purred lowly, winking at Y/N as she handed off both the pastry box and bag. “Dear Lord, I have not been here in forever! When was the last time?”

“God… it has to be last spring, maybe. Maybe even Christmas prior.”

“Either way, too long. Though I see you’ve kept the decor fisherman chic. Please, when will you let me redecorate for you?”

“One day, I promise. But for now, I have some things I want to talk to you about.”

Y/N moved around her small kitchen, pouring coffee and unveiling the apple crumb cake Mama brought from Freedman’s Bakery. The smell of apples and cinnamon instantly filled the room and mixed with the aroma of the coffee, Mama began to hum.

“Mmmm MM! It smells good in here. Like a little slice of heaven,” she sighed and pulled out one of the two chairs at the kitchen table. Just as she sat, she gratefully took the hot mug Y/N offered her. “What sort of things do you have on your mind?”

“Well,” Y/N started, then pulled out a seat of her own and began to slice the crumb cake. “I texted you last night because I had something on my mind. However, I couldn’t sleep last night, and I started thinking about work, and had something else entirely to talk to you about.” Y/N was rambling and Mama sensed she was probably already a pot deep into the coffee.

“Honey,” Mama said and covered Y/N’s hands to get them to stop fidgeting with the cake. “Slow down. First things first… what was on your mind last night?”

She hesitated, unsure of how to start. “I didn’t get to tell you because you were in Florida, but I went to a New Year’s party, back in Austin.”

“Ok, sounds fun. Continue,” Mama said and motioned towards her before sipping at her coffee.

“Right. Well, I guess I should start with saying that when I was home for Christmas, Nate showed up here Christmas morning. Then, I went back early so I could go to this party with Jensen. He kissed me at midnight and then I panicked and ran out.”

Mama coughed as she tried to swallow her coffee and then carefully placed the mug back on the table. She grabbed a napkin and wiped at the corners of her mouth like the old southern debutante that she had once been. Once she regained her composure, she sat up straighter and looked Y/N squarely in the eye.

“You best start from the beginning and leave no detail out. Because hearing that you spent an evening with that luscious man is one thing, but also hearing that dickhead’s name in the mix has soured the first bit. Explain yourself, please. What the hell do you mean that Nathan was here on Christmas? Why didn’t you call me?”

“He took me by surprise. He wanted to talk.”

“And you let him in?”

“Yes...” Y/N replied with a sigh, knowing she would get a barrage of crap from Mama for that.

“I’m in shock. After what he did to you!?”

“I know… I just… I don’t know. He wanted to apologize. He’s working the twelve steps--”

“Twelve steps? Ha! Twelve steps…” she muttered. “I didn’t realize you could twelve-step your way out of being a shithead.”

“I know he was terrible then, but for a lot of years he wasn’t and I guess I wanted to know if there was anything good left in him. I saw a glimmer of who he used to be.”

“We need to move on from Nate, cause honey, it just makes my blood boil.”

“Ok, so after he left, I went back to Austin a few days later and went to a party with Jensen. We’ve been getting along great, working together well, and he’s a lot of fun.”

“Yes, he certainly is,” she mused, her expression quickly fading from aggravated to dreamy. “Now I believe you mentioned something about a kiss…”

“He did. WE did… at midnight,” Y/N answered and couldn’t help feeling the twist in her gut that was now associated with that night.

“And?”

“And… it…”

“Y/N?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never felt anything like that. Ever.”

Mama’s face relaxed into a euphoric afterglow. “Please, dear, sweet Lord in Heaven tell me you let that man have his way with you.”

“No!” Y/N laughed and got up from the seat. She was feeling anxious about it all; mostly because she felt so stupid for having run away from him. “It was amazing, and then I got nervous. Someone walked in and it gave me a moment to basically lose my mind and run.”

“You left?!” Mama’s jaw dropped and she quickly stood from the table. “What the--Child, I should whoop your ass. First, you let Nathan in this house, then you run out on that precious Texas boy? It’s like I don’t even know you,” she huffed.

Mama, for a woman of her generous height and weight moved across the kitchen in a heartbeat and lightly smacked the back of Y/N’s head twice.

“One for lettin’ Nathan in, the other for running out on Jensen!”

“Ow,” Y/N whined and rubbed the back of her head. Her brow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Trust me, I wish I knew why I do what I do. One second we were… you know, gettin’ handsy, and the next minute…” she shrugged.

“That son of a bitch Nathan… he was on your mind, wasn’t he?”

“Partially. It was more than that though. I’ve had two relationships in my life, Mama. Two. Nathan, and he who shall not be named.”

“Mmmm, yes. I forgot you had your own Voldemort. But that was what... six months after Nathan left and lasted for less than a month? You can’t count him… especially cause I can’t even remember his name.”

“Whatever, my point is, that both of these relationships were toxic. The last thing I want right now is another go-round with getting my heart broken. I should never have dated after Nathan, so figured I would try a one night stand. It left me so cold and empty. I don’t want that, either. I didn’t want to ruin a good friendship with Jensen, or have it turn toxic.”

“Sug, I get that. But you can’t push your feelings away every time they try and wake you up.”

“Can’t I? I love this job, Mama. I feel like I finally found what I am meant to do. What if we slept together, and it got weird. I wouldn’t be able to work with him. Besides, it’s not even all that happened.”

“What else?” she sighed and rubbed at her temples. “This should have been a Bloody Mary breakfast.”

Y/N ignored her quip. “The next day I told him I wanted to talk. He said he was busy. So I stopped by to drop off some contracts and it turned out he was home. He lied because he didn’t want to talk.”

“That’s why you are back here, instead of living in Austin?”

Y/N nodded and watched with anxiety as Mama seemed to sift through a host of quiet thoughts before deciding how to respond.

“If I didn’t love you as I do... I would smack you again.”

“Why?”

“He lied? So what?! You ran out on him! You know what that’s gonna do to a man’s pride. Hell, anyone’s pride?! Sugar, you… you need to stop lettin’ that heart of yours dictate all your decisions. That man--I spent time with him, ok? I saw how he watched you on that stage. You didn’t. I saw how his face lit up, and that gorgeous grin spread from ear to ear. You mesmerized him.”

Mama took Y/N’s chin between her fingers and lovingly lifted her face so their eyes could meet. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t like that boy.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, almost pathetically. “I do like him. But I’m also very scared of him.”

Mama considered this for a minute and smiled at her friend. “Then, you need to go back to Texas, make amends, and rekindle that friendship you two had been startin’. I think that will be how you stop being so damn scared.”

“I have a flight out tonight,” Y/N said and laughed when Mama raised both fists into the air in celebration.

“That’s my girl!”

“I mean, I won’t see him for a while, but I think you’re right. I owe him an apology. I just hope he can forgive me.”

“I have no doubt that he probably already has. Now, that’s settled… Nat--”

“No. I’ve given him enough thought lately. I’d rather talk about my burst of inspiration that I had last night.”

“Which was?”

“You, the whole troupe… I want you to perform at the festival.”

Mama’s eyes grew large, her plump dimpled cheeks expanding as the smile unfurled across her painted pink lips. “Shut the hell up! Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean… I am still working out all the logistics, but, we have a few stages to fill and I thought who better than to take on one of the theaters for the Saturday night slot? Whatever you guys wanna do… it’s your call. We have a hotel all reserved for talent, so your accommodations are taken care of. And I am sure I could help you with the travel arrangements. I just need you guys to say yes, and you’re in.”

“Well slap my ass and call me Sally!” Mama cackled and smacked her knee; her southern lilt bolder than usual. “You best believe we’ll be there, suga!”

“Fantastic! I will get you all of the details as soon as I get back to Austin.”

“Well now, hold on one second… you know what’s funny,” Mama said and went into the living room to retrieve the garment bag she had brought with her. “I brought this today because I thought you may want it for something. Didn’t know what, but when Marie brought it into rehearsals last I was there, everyone agreed only you would be able to pull this costume off.”

She hung the hanger on the top door of the refrigerator and slowly unzipped the vinyl bag. Y/N softly gasped when she saw the frock Mama had brought her. It was a full-length strapless dress that had a corset top with a heart-shaped bustier with deep purple accents, streaming out into a black skirt that was shorter in the front and flowed out from the back. The skirt itself had black velvet swirls imprinted on the ebony material and heavily ruffled bottom that would give it an amazing look when it twirled.

“Mama…” she breathed and ran her fingers over the dark purple accents. “This is gorgeous.”

“It is. And in the bottom are the accessories. You have to wear this. At least once. And what a better place than at the festival. So, you agree to perform one number with us, then we will be there to fill your stage for an entire night.”

Y/N considered the offer and knew that she had to say yes. She hadn’t gotten to the point where she thought about her part in performing at the festival. Working behind the scenes had completely garnered all her attention, so this was the first time she gave it any real thought.

“Alright,” she said, “you win. I will take this back to Austin with me and put it aside for a night on stage with The Corsets. Do I get to pick the routine, or…?”

“Oh no, honey. I’m the Creative Director now,” Mama pinched her cheek and took her place back at the table. “Now, don’t think I am done talking about this whole Jensen situation. I wanna hear more details about this New Year’s Eve party…” She leaned back and sipped her coffee before taking a large bite of her crumb cake. “You best start talking.”

For the rest of the morning, Y/N caught Mama up on New Year’s Eve, including playing with Bri, hearing Jensen sing, the encounter with Dee all the way up to her moment in the game room. By the time the coffee was gone and the cake was only crumbs, Mama had heard the tale, soup to nuts, and sat there stunned, letting it all sink in.

They talked a while longer before Y/N realized the time and had to get ready to leave for the airport. Mama had hugged her tightly with both a warning and a promise before she left.

“I promise that we will put on one hell of a show for those Texans. But, in the meantime, stop being stupid and go kiss the cute boy. Let him know that you’re all in, even if it is a slow-moving gamble. You’ll regret it if you don’t. You hear? I’ll keep my promise to whoop you when I get to Austin if you don’t. Got it?”

“Yes, Mama,” Y/N laughed and embraced her again before watching her go out into the cold winter air.

Hours later, as she made her way through the airport and onto the plane, she felt good about going back. There were still a few lingering doubts about how she and Jensen would be with seeing each other again, but there was time to work on that. First, she needed to get back to Austin, her new home, and refocus herself completely on making the Brewfest as big, bold and beautiful as Jensen’s vision for it was. Outside of that, everything would just have to wait.

Much like Y/N expected, there wasn’t much of a chance to see Jensen through the rest of February and March. It was disappointing to her, mostly because she was really starting to miss him. His schedule in Vancouver changed last minute, which caused him to have to miss the Texas Creative Arts Council meeting as well as a few others he had intended to be at, in turn dashing her hopes of finally getting to talk face to face. Her own travel schedule picked up, as she zigzagged across the country meeting with business owners, sponsors, and supporters of the Hometown Brewfest extravaganza.

The frequency of text exchanges between them increased, and it gave her a glimmer of hope that they could still work through whatever they needed to. As the weeks carried on, and the dates of ChiCon inched closer, Y/N found herself growing more and more anxious about finally having that moment.

Two weeks before, the whole group was in Nashville for a con, while Y/N was wrapping up some last minute business in New Orleans. She was chatting with Rob about a band she found by happenstance, and during the video call, Jensen passed behind him in the background. Her heart lept up in her throat, though she successfully kept her outward demeanor calm and collected. Y/N watched as Jensen did a double take as he noticed her on the screen of Rob’s phone. Leaning over his friend’s shoulder, he shoved his face in the camera and smiled, gave a simple wave and then was called away before he could actually speak.

It was enough to give her that final boost of confidence that they would be ok, but she still desperately needed to clear the air with him. That, however, wouldn’t happen for another two weeks when she found herself pacing the backstage area of the hotel in Chicago where the stars of Supernatural were gathering in preparation for a weekend full of panels, photo ops and a jam-packed concert with Robbie’s band.

Y/N had arrived that Saturday morning well after the festivities had gotten underway. Bri was the first person who she found and was greeted by an over-exuberant hug and the subsequent barrage of questions about everything under the sun. She was quickly whisked away to her panel with Kim, leaving Y/N holding her credentials and aimlessly wandering around the hotel. That was until she found herself on a mission to finally locate and talk to Jensen.

The extra wide hallway of the hotel outside the green room was carpeted with the ugliest yellow, gold and blue carpeting Y/N had ever seen. Though, as she paced it back and forth, she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Eventually, she found herself pacing along the blue lines that intertwined between the yellow and gold diamond pattern. As ugly as it was, it was somehow keeping her nerves at bay. She could run into Jensen at any time now, and it took all of her willpower not to just turn and run… again.

She wouldn’t though. Her and Jensen needed to set things straight. She didn’t know if this was the way to do it, or what she would say exactly, but she knew it had to be done. Y/N had gotten a peek at his schedule when she checked in and got her credentials to be able to come and go as she pleased. He would be in the green room now, or at least on his way there. So that’s where she headed.

Y/N stalled once she reached the green room door, deciding that maybe just barging in and demanding he talk to her was a bad idea. That’s when the pacing started again and continued for several minutes. She bit on her lower lip and closed her eyes, hanging her head and trying to decide what to do.

She continued walking, but with her eyes closed, she didn’t realize she was walking off her pattern, and straight into oncoming people.

“Whoa there!”

Y/N looked up, and in horrific slow motion, realized she ran square into Jensen’s chest. His hands had gently grabbed her shoulders when they collided, and they lingered there now as recognition touched his features one by one. Seeing him again after so long felt like a shock to her system; her mouth went dry, and she could feel her hands starting to tremble. When she tried to swallow, it stuck like a lump in her throat cutting off the air to her brain and making her feel light headed.

“H-Hey,” she breathed.

“Robbie said you were gonna be here,” he said, then nervously ran his tongue out and over his bottom lip. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, still unsure of what to say. “How’ve you been?” Her words were hesitant and staggered; her gaze unable to break from his.

Jensen finally realized his hands were still on her shoulders and quickly let go.

“Good. Busy, but good. You?”

“Better now that--”

The green room door opened with a bang, startling both Jensen and Y/N. Half a dozen people funneled out, mostly hotel staff, but Robbie was among them.

“Just who I was looking for!” he exclaimed and walked over to them. “You,” he said pointing to Jensen, “have about two minutes before Rich is gonna call you up for your panel with Misha. And you,” he turned to Y/N, “need to come with me while I got a quick ten minutes and figure out where we are going tonight if there’s time. There are a few clubs we gotta hit between tonight and tomorrow.”

“Can you just give us a minute, Rob?” Jensen asked him, and yet, his eyes still didn’t waver from Y/N’s gaze.

“Uh, sure. I’ll be right over there, Y/N.” He looked hesitantly between them, and quietly stepped back and around the corner.

Jensen cleared his throat and turned back to her, unable to disguise just how nervous he was. “About what happened… I wanna, I mean, we should talk, but I do gotta go right now--”

“Right, of course,“ she said, taking a step back from him and suddenly scared to say what she wanted to. “We can do it another time.”

“Later, you’re scouting bands tonight with Rob? Sounds fun. Maybe if you’re not back too late--”

“Mr. Ackles!”

A small blonde haired woman popped her head from around the other end of the hallway and waved frantically for him to come.

“I gotta run,” he said but took a beat to hold her gaze a little longer. It took the impatient little woman at the end of the hallway calling him again, to get his feet moving.

Jensen took a few steps in the direction he had to go, then turned to face her as he walked backward down the corridor. He chuckled nervously and Y/N felt a rush of relief when she realized he seemed truly happy to see her.

“Don’t go far, okay? The panel only lasts about an hour. Maybe we could talk after? I’d really like too--”

“Jensen, please, the panel is starting!” The woman was pleading with him now.

“I’ll be around, Hollywood. Come find me,” she shrugged, trying to be calm, cool and casual. Y/N held back as best she could, but Jensen got the idea that she was happy to see him, too.

“You got it, Trix. I’ll come to find you.” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, and as he continued to walk away from her, Y/N could hear his happy chuckle fade down the hallway. Just before he turned and disappeared completely, he paused and gave Y/N a wink before heading off to his panel.

When he had disappeared around the far corner, she sighed heavily and laughed to herself, completely overcome with relief. A moment later she heard Robbie walk up behind her and clear his throat.

“Everything go ok?” he asked hesitantly.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah,” she said and did her best to stow the overwhelming relief she had over that encounter with Jensen. “I think we’ll be good.”

“Good,” Robbie said and slung his arm over her shoulders. “Now, let’s talk about the weekend, shall we?” He turned her around and guided her in the opposite direction.

The panel, one that he normally loved doing, felt like an eternity on that particular Saturday afternoon. Jensen and Misha answered questions, engaged in their usual banter, and of course, made a room of hundreds of people scream and laugh with delight. He did his best to maintain his normal energetic vibe, but even Misha could see that his mind just wasn’t in the game.

Instead, Jensen’s mind was firmly stuck on Y/N.

She was there, in the same city, in the same hotel just a few hundred feet away. All he wanted to do was go and see her, talk to her, hash this dumb shit out that made them lose three months of getting closer; three months of seeing her smile, hearing her voice and getting to know more about her.

Jensen was pissed at himself for weeks after New Year’s Day. Regardless of whether he had the right to be upset at her or not, he reverted to his petty and childish demeanor, where women were concerned, and he beat himself up for it. His knee jerk reaction to her running out had everything to do with Dee, and not so much Y/N herself. He needed to tell her that’s why he lied about something so stupid to avoid her. Y/N would understand… that’s what made her different.

Y/N had made the effort, hadn’t she? She came to leave the envelope, and in it was her plea to talk to him. She wanted to explain herself, but at that moment he just couldn’t let her. Then she ran back to New Jersey so fast, which initially made him angry. But it didn’t take him long to realize that she’d been through just as much bullshit with her past as he had, and instead of being angry, he should try and sympathize.

Weeks later he happened to talk to Rob who’d mentioned in passing that he had a FaceTime call with Y/N. It had been in the middle of the snowstorm towards the end of January that she told Rob she would be coming back to Austin. That wasn’t all though, was it? As Jensen sat on the panel stage, and half listened to Misha tell a story about his daughter that made the crowd roar with laughter, he was thinking about the guy hanging out with Y/N while she was home; the one Robbie saw in the background that day. As if on cue, he laughed at Misha’s story, joining in with the rest of the ballroom, but on the inside, he was simmering with jealousy.

Jensen wondered if that was the same “old friend” that showed up at her place on Christmas, and of course, couldn’t help but be curious if that guy was part of why she’d run out on him. Swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat, he continued on with his Q&A with the fans and tried to forget it for the time being.

Finally, the panel had come to an end, with it also being their last panel of the day. Misha was escorted to his last set of photo ops, while Jensen was able to head back to the green room, hoping that he would once again bump into Y/N.

The hallway where he had left her was now empty, as was the green room. He considered calling her and asking where she was, but instead texted Rob and asked if they were still together.

<<Hey man, is Y/N still with you?

>>Nah, she went to check a few places out while it was still light out. She’ll be back for SNS.

Jensen sighed and sent back a quick reply, then tucked his phone away and headed back to his own room to get ready for that night’s concert.

Louden Swain took the stage around nine that night. They played through a few of their originals, and then a handful of covers with some of the cast. Jensen knew he’d go up for a couple of songs, but he was holding out until the end so he could catch Y/N.

“Hey handsome,” Bri greeted, coming up alongside where Jensen was sitting, startling him out of his thoughts. “How’d your day go today?”

“Great,” he said with a tired smile. “Long day though. How about you?”

“Oh you know, fantastic. Kim and I kicked ass. Had some great ops… a cocktail or two in between. You know, the usual.”

“That’s my girl,” he teased and then perked up thinking she could help him. “Any chance you’ve seen Y/N around?”

“Yes! Earlier today when she first came in, then about five minutes ago. She’ll be here in a second, why? Got something you need to say to her? Hmmmm?” Bri raised one perfectly manicured brow at him, challenging him to open up a bit more.

“Yes. Actually, I do.”

“Good boy. I know she wants to talk to you too--” From the stage, Bri heard her cue to go up with Robbie for her song. “Look, she’s around. Talk. To. Her. Then, keep her close, I’m gonna need her.” She wiggled her brows and stuck her tongue out playfully before bounding up the short set of steps that would take her backstage.

Jensen chuckled as she disappeared behind the curtain and out to the roar of applause from the crowd. He tried to think of what he would be doing that night with the band. Jason was playing too, and they talked about The Joker and maybe Whipping Post. He closed his eyes and ran through both songs, half hearing Robbie and Bri singing “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” coming from the stage. He certainly didn’t hear Y/N and she came from around the corner and stood in front of him.

“Hey stranger,” she said softly. Despite the music coming from close behind him, he heard her perfectly.

Jensen opened his eyes and thought maybe he was just imagining her there. She looked different than she had earlier. Gone was her T-shirt and ripped jeans, a look that he really loved on her. Now she wore the tight blue jeans and knee-high boots with a black and white, long sleeve peasant-style blouse that was loosely tied at the neck and open enough to accentuate her cleavage. Jensen had a split-second thought about what she had on beneath it before he was able to make himself speak again.

“Hey yourself,” he breathed, standing up from the platform he was sitting on. “How’s your, uh, you know, how’s it--”

“I’m good, Jay. Robbie asked me to come back for the concert. Glad you stuck around. Are you going up there tonight?”

Jensen nodded, suddenly tongue-tied and unsure of what to say.

“They sound great,” Y/N motioned towards the stage and took a few steps closer. “That’s a great song.”

“It is,” he said, but needed to say more and was tired of waiting. “Y/N,” he paused and waited for her to face him. She did, and he could tell she knew what he was about to say. “About New Year’s…”

“Jay, wait. Before you say anything… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for running away like I did. I shouldn’t have--”

“It's okay. I shouldn’t have lied about the stupid movie. It was all so…”

“Stupid?”

“Childish. I guess I could give you a laundry list of reasons--”

“But they wouldn’t matter,” she said quietly and cast her gaze down to her feet. When she looked up at him again, he saw something in her face that made him relax and understand she wanted to move on as badly as he did.

“Yeah. Can we just,” he sighed and shrugged, “just get back to being friends?”

“Yes. I want that, more than anything,” she sighed in relief.

“Good,” he breathed and took a hesitant step closer to her. Y/N stepped in and put her arms around his neck to hug him. Though it took him by surprise, he didn’t waste a second in returning the embrace. She felt so good in his arms as they snaked their way around her waist. It took a lot of willpower on his part to stop himself from nuzzling his face into her neck and drawing in a deep breath of her scent.

From the stage, the music shifted and while the band kept playing, Bri popped her head through the curtain and saw Y/N with Jensen.

“Hate to break up this very much needed moment, but Y/N, I need you up here please.”

Jensen reluctantly released her and saw the scheming look in Briana’s eyes. He narrowed his gaze at her, and she just slyly winked. “Come on slowpoke! They’re waiting.”

“Who’s waiting?” she asked, looking curiously between Jensen and Bri.

“Everyone…” Bri replied and swept back the curtain so Y/N could see the audience.

“What? Oh no, I didn’t--I’m not--”

“You are, and you can. Come on, lady! Time to get your cute little ass up here and sing on stage with me and Robbie.”

Y/N looked to Jensen to save her, but he just shook his head. “Oh no, I’m with Bri on this one. Like I’d ever pass up a chance to watch you on stage.”

Realizing she was being ganged up on, Y/N sighed as her chin fell to her chest in defeat and she made her way up the small set of stairs. “I hate you both,” she chided and both Bri and Jensen rolled their eyes.

Jensen watched from backstage as she got up next to Robbie who was on the mic and introduced Y/N to the crowd. When he spoke about the Brewfest the crowd cheered, and it was the first time Jensen understood just how much work she’d been putting into it, not just into organizing things, but getting the word out to the public about the upcoming event.

Robbie leaned over and whispered something in her ear, Y/N nodded and faced the crowd, giving them a wave. Jensen saw how they seemed to love her already and they hadn’t even heard her sing yet. Robbie faced the band and signaled the next song as the familiar beat of Heart’s “What About Love” kicked in.

Y/N started to sing, and Jensen felt his knees go weak. It had been a while, too long he would say if someone had asked him since he had heard her sing. She fell right into the groove with the band, completely unaware of how sexy and majestic she was on the stage. Bri was beside her, sharing the verses and singing harmonies together. They blended effortlessly with Robbie’s voice, too. Y/N held the notes and used her strong bravado to carry them out, once again making the crowd go wild.

Hints of jealousy filled Jensen, but not because of the reaction she was garnering, but because he wasn’t on stage next to her. How could he have not sung with her yet? At least strummed a guitar while she sat across from him, her tender pitch humming along with whatever he was playing. It suddenly became of utmost importance to him to share a stage with her, but for now, he just hung back and relished in the way her voice made him feel. Anyone that saw him watching her would know that he was so clearly infatuated with this girl, and almost nothing would have pulled him away.

As the song wound towards the end, Jason breezed past Jensen, smacking his shoulder along the way.

“Almost ready, brother? Gonna kick it off with ‘The Joker’, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Just like we said, call me in when you’re ready.”

“You got it!” Jason replied before running out on the stage.

Jason handled the first chorus, and during the musical interlude, he brought Jensen up and he easily slipped into the version of himself he brought out on the Saturday Night Specials. He noticed that Briana and Y/N were still up there, yet off towards stage right, and singing along with the chorus of the song. Jensen casually strolled in their direction, just feeling the need to be as close to Y/N as possible. The moment the music came back around to where he picked up the song, happened to be the same moment that Jensen walked around behind her, then was at her side. Without giving it a second thought, he draped his arm around her shoulders and sang the lines directly to her… their eyes locked as if he was speaking solely to Y/N and not to a room of hundreds of people.

“You’re the cutest thing I ever did see…

Really love your peaches wanna shake your tree

Lovey-dovey lovey-dovey lovey-dovey all the time...

Oooey baby I sure show you a good time…”

The song played on, and eventually, he moved back across the stage and sang out to the crowd. But the expression that came to rest on her face was not something he would ever forget. He caught glimpses of her smiling as her eyes followed across the stage. He liked how it felt for her to watch him; he felt uninhibited and free to be himself.

When it was over, he was disappointed as Bri grabbed Y/N’s hand now that their turn on stage was done. They waved to the audience and the band transitioned into “Whipping Post” while they exited through the back.

As Jensen belted out line after line of The Allman Brothers song, he wished Y/N had stayed out there with them and secretly hoped she was watching from backstage. Thank God he was singing a song he knew without having to think about because all his mind could really focus on was how good it felt to have her back around. At that moment, Jensen had felt better than he had in a very long time.

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Everything Tags: @kazosa // @sorenmarie87 // @lefthologramdeer // @his-paradox // @letsby // @thefaithfulwriter

SUPERNATURAL TAGS: @wings-of-a-raven // @negans-wife // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @missihart23 // @crowleysreigningqueenofhell // @idreamofplaid // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters// @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets // @waywardvalkyrie // @fandomoniumflurry // @gnrfanfic // @blackcherrywhiskey // @jessieray98 // @lyoly // @a–1–1–3 // @31shadesofbrown // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare // @pilaxia // @screechingartisancashbailiff // @kgbrenner // @holylulusworld // @deansenwackles // @jamielea81 // @coffeebooksandfandom // @logical-princey // @gemini0410 // @salt-n-burn-em-all // @collette04 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @deathofmissjackson // @lauravic // @akshi8278 // @katehuntington

When You Least Expect It: @winchest09 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @aomi-nabi // @luciathewinchestergirl // @alexisxwinchester // @moonxdance // @seppys-return-to-madness // @donnaintx // @deans-baby-momma // @the-is13

#jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader insert #jensen ackles fanfics #when you least expect it

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