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elliesbelle · 1 year ago

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nobody compares to you

chapter 8

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, lesbian flirtationship?, mentions of kissing, mentions of a weapon (it's just ellie's switchblade), descriptions of injuries and bruising, abby is hot and cocky (duh), minors do not interact

word count: 4k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

You’d spent the last few days texting back and forth with Abby. She hadn’t changed much since your freshman year, still confident and charismatic and charming as always.

It was nice, taking a step outside of your comfort zone. It had been a while since you’d regularly socialized with someone other than your usual group of friends. The older you got, it seemed harder to feel comfortable getting close to new people.

But Abby made it easy, keeping things casual and light. She’d ask about your day, talk about hers, and inquire what you were up to. She’d flirt every now and again, and you’d cautiously flirt right back, but she never pushed much further than that.

You hadn’t told anyone yet about reconnecting with Abby. The girls from the Wilson Crew would no doubt be incredibly supportive, having partly seen you going through some of the disastrous aftermath with Ellie. But as loving and encouraging as they were, having six girls simultaneously asking you questions and being loud & abrasive about your love/sex life was too overwhelming a thought.

You considered disclosing your secret to Dina. But though you loved her deeply and she was the closest thing you’ve ever had to a sister, Dina was just a tad bit judgy. She wouldn’t say anything, but after a few years of knowing her and her mannerisms, you’d recognized her pursed lips and her one raised eyebrow as her judgy face. And right now, the last thing you needed was to be evaluated when you’re trying to break from behind the walls you’ve built the past couple of years.

After musing over it for a while, you kick yourself for not realizing right away who it was that you could confide in.

Jesse.

Jesse was an easygoing person, effortless to chat with and always cracking jokes. But when it came down to it, he cared about you and knew how to listen, judgment-free. You used to have long talks with him back in freshman year, separate from Dina and Ellie, while you watched old movies or played video games together. After Rafael died, he made sure constantly that you stayed stable and took care of yourself. He’s never failed to be a great friend to you.

Thursday morning, you make the decision to text Jesse as you get ready to leave for your first morning class.

You let out an audible “uhhh” as you remember that Jesse shared an apartment with Ellie. Jesse seems to suddenly remember as well a few seconds later.

You chuckle as you read Jesse’s last text before putting your phone in your pocket and walking out the front door of your apartment.

“So, you free tomorrow night?” Abby asks.

“Mm, that depends.”

“On?”

“On why you’re asking.” You reply cheekily.

Abby chuckles.

You were making your way to your Race and Sexuality in Popular Culture class and Abby, who supposedly had some time to kill, was walking you over.

“Oh, just curious.” Abby says.

“Uh-huh, just curious.” You reply, rolling your eyes playfully.

You stroll down the brick path holding a large textbook to your chest that you couldn’t stuff into your backpack with the rest of your things. Abby’d offered to carry it for you, but you insisted that you were a “strong and independent woman who didn’t need anyone to carry their books for them,” to which Abby laughed.

“Oh, I’m just fucking around,” Abby continues. “Wanted to see if you wanted to maybe come to this bar with me and my friends. It’s pretty close by.”

“Wow, getting drunk? On a weekday, Miss Anderson?” You joke.

“Friday night counts as a weekend, you weirdo.” Abby chuckles.

“Which bar is it?”

“The Bow and Arrow on Waverly Street.”

You purse your lips at this.

The Bow and Arrow was a lesbian bar that was near the university’s campus. It was a pretty small place with a nice set-up: friendly and welcoming bartenders, TVs that played a variety of movies or that were connected to old consoles for patrons to play retro games on, and a spacious dance floor on the rooftop.

Last year when you were still freshly heartbroken, you’d gone to the Bow and Arrow with a few friends from the Wilson Crew. Somehow, you ended up making out with a random girl in a dark corner who’d been eyeing you all evening. But after they’d asked if you wanted to go home with them, you chickened out and muttered a quick apology before rejoining your friends.

Before then, you’d gone a few times during your freshman year. But after one fateful December night that involved a random stranger, the dance floor, and Ellie, you didn’t frequent it much afterwards.

Abby doesn’t notice your hesitation, which allows you a second to come up with a calculated response.

“Do you mind if I think about it? Tomorrow’s kind of a long day for me. Might be too exhausted after all my classes.” You say.

“Sure, that’s totally fine.” Abby replies. “No pressure at all. If you wanna have a chill night, you could also come over and we can watch a movie or something instead.”

You smile at her thoughtfulness.

“You’re sweet,” You say. “But it’s okay, don’t change your plans ‘cause of me. You should go anyway and have fun with your friends.”

“Still trying to avoid hanging out alone with me, huh?” Abby jokes.

You roll your eyes and smile.

“Yes, that’s exactly why I’m letting you walk me to class today.” You reply sarcastically. “Definitely trying to avoid being around you right now, Anderson.”

“Oh, you’re ‘letting me’ walk you to class, are you?”

“Yup,” You say. “Now leave me, I no longer require your services, Miss Anderson.” You joke, gesturing for her to leave the opposite direction.

“Bossy.” Abby chuckles but continues to walk alongside you.

It’s a slightly chillier day today as October begins to slowly approach November. You’d opted for an oversized sweater that used to belong to your cousin Rafael (it had his alma mater stitched onto the front and your uncle had gifted it to you sometime after his passing), a beanie, and a pair of thick leggings. When you’d met up with Abby, you pretended not to notice her eyeing your ass in your leggings for half a second when she first spotted you.

“Alright,” Abby continues. “How about tonight? You busy?”

“Can’t tonight, sorry.” You say. “Meeting up with a friend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just having dinner with my friend Jesse.”

“Oh, Jesse Chang, right?”

You blink at Abby’s recognition.

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Just seen him around and all.” Abby explains. “He’s at the gym sometimes when I’m there. He lives with that friend of yours, Ellie, right? They’re both there together a lot.”

Your face drops at the mention of Ellie, but Abby has her eyes straight ahead and doesn’t catch it.

“Oh, and I see him sometimes playing guitar on the quad.” Abby continues. “He’s pretty good.”

You quickly compose yourself.

“Y-yeah. He’s known to play since he was a kid. A, uh, a family friend taught him growing up.” You say.

You feel a pang in your heart. Joel taught Jesse how to play the guitar when he was younger. Jesse and Ellie.

That summer that you’d spent in Jackson, Ellie’d told Joel during a Miller/Williams dinner night about how you were musically inclined. You’d felt embarrassed but you remember thinking that it was sweet how excited he got. Joel then proceeded to gush all about how he taught Ellie and Jesse how to play the guitar when they were just teenagers.

Jesse’d already known how to play piano from lessons he’d been taking and was curious to branch out (Ellie made a comment that he just wanted to learn because playing guitar looked so much cooler to girls). According to Joel, he had been a good, attentive student. When Ellie found out Joel was teaching Jesse, she competitively insisted on being taught too.

You remember chuckling when Joel’d told you how much of an impatient and temperamental student Ellie turned out to be. She’d easily get frustrated when she forgot a chord and curse herself out when her fingers would slip to play discordantly. But along with her hotheadedness came passion, and Ellie ended up teaching herself quickly into mastering the instrument anyway.

Something inside ached when the memories of Jesse and Ellie casually strumming on their guitars flooded back. You’d watched in admiration as they fucked around and even occasionally wrote songs together. Sometimes you’d sing along to whatever they’d be playing, and they would joke about how they should start a band (to which you’d tease that Ellie didn’t play nice with others to handle being in an organized group).

“That’s nice.” Abby says, interrupting your trance. “You’re pretty close to him?”

“Oh yeah,” You reply. “I’d say he’s one of my closest friends here.”

You quickly feel guilty saying that out loud, knowing that you’d pulled away from both him and Dina the past year.

“That’s pretty sweet,” Abby smiles. “He seems like a really chill guy.”

“He’s the best.” You say, smiling back.

“Well, I won’t get in the way of some bestie bonding then,” Abby says. “But at least consider coming out with us tomorrow night?”

You’re approaching the building of your next class now with just a couple of minutes to spare. You grip your textbook to your chest tightly, almost like it's a source of stress relief. Going out and actually being in public with Abby was a nerve-wracking concept. But you don’t want to disappoint her either.

“I will,” You say. “I promise.”

“Good.” Abby smiles.

“Now, go and get out of here,” You tell her. “You’re gonna be late for your next class.”

“Why are you always so eager to get rid of me?” Abby teases.

You roll your eyes, amused.

“You’re just so sickenly nice to me that I can’t stand to be around you.”

“Get used to it then.” Abby replies.

“Mm,” You muse. “We’ll see.”

Abby chuckles.

“Alright, well, I’ll text you.” She says, waving as she walks off. “See you, pretty girl.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheeks at this flirty comment as you wave her off. Your grip on your textbook loosens before you turn and proceed into the building.

“Another strawberry milkshake? Really?” You ask as the server walks away.

“What?! I’m having a craving!”

You chuckle before taking a sip of your water.

Ever the responsible and reliable friend, Jesse was ten minutes early to the diner for your meet-up. He’d pulled you into one of his classic bear hugs when you came in, and your heart jolted and your eyes teared up. You’ve really missed being around him.

“So, how’ve you been, kid?” He asks, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms.

“Mm, short or long answer?”

“Long,” He smiles. “I wanna know everything.”

You return his smile uncertainly.

“Don’t really know how to start, Jess.”

“How ‘bout telling me how classes have been going for you?”

You go on for a while about how you’d been handling your schoolwork, Jesse occasionally chiming in about his own classes. He laughed at your anecdotes and asked all the right questions at all the right times. Your orders were placed in front of you as you were complaining about your Women in Classical Antiquity professor who you swore has a vendetta against you.

“Then she looks at me like I’m crazy!” You complain before stuffing your face with a slice of chocolate chip pancake.

“Yeah, a buddy of mine had her last year, and apparently half the shit she was teaching made no sense.” Jesse replies, licking whipped cream off the top of his milkshake.

“It doesn’t!” You exclaim. “Like, I’m sorry that I corrected you in front of the rest of your students, but like? Do your job right the first time then, bitch!”

Jesse guffaws as you pour more maple syrup over your pancakes.

“Dude, she’s gonna fail you for sure if you keep it up.”

“Fail me for knowing more about Greek mythology than she does,” You grumble. “Get me up on that podium, and we’ll all learn something for a change.”

You continue your tirade for a couple of minutes until the conversation shifts from your classes to your friends.

“It’s so cute that they’ve been together since freshman year,” You say, discussing your friends Tara and Astrid who were celebrating their two-year anniversary in a couple of months. “Although I guess to you and D, two years is nothing.”

“Hey, still an impressive feat. And I definitely agree that they’re real cute together.” Jesse replies.

“Nice to know love is real after all.” You joke.

Jesse smiles at this but then suddenly looks thoughtful before speaking.

“How about you, dude?”

“What about me?” You ask, finishing off the last of your pancakes and attacking your side of grits.

“How’s your love life been going?”

You pause. This is exactly why you’d invited Jesse out, to confide in him. And yet somehow, you feel your mouth go dry and your heartbeat rapidly increase.

Jesse notices your hesitation and puts his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands.

“We don’t have to talk about it, bud. But I’m here if you need someone. Judgment-free zone.”

You give him a soft smile. Jesse was so perceptive sometimes.

“Well, umm,” You start. “I’m sort of… seeing someone? Or trying to see someone, I guess. Not sure what to call it yet.”

“Oh, yeah? What does ‘trying’ to see someone mean exactly?”

“It means…” You sigh. “…it means I don’t really know what I’m doing or what’s going on or if I want to go further.”

Jesse chuckles.

“Well, what do you want?” He asks.

“I’m not really sure,” You reply honestly. “I guess, I’m a little tired of feeling lonely, and she’s so nice to me. She makes me feel good about myself. I don’t know. I just haven’t actually dated anyone in such a long time.”

“That’s okay. It’s been a rough couple of years for you. I don’t blame you at all.” Jesse says.

You look at him sadly before popping a spoonful of grits into your mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you should completely force yourself into something you’re unsure about,” Jesse says after taking a sip from his milkshake. “But I also think that you deserve to be happy. And unfortunately, that means putting yourself out there.”

You scowl at his sage advice.

“Do I have to?”

“Sorry, kid.” Jesse chuckles and you grimace.

“I just want to see you be yourself again,” Jesse continues. “Whether that’s because you start going out with someone new or because you just leave your apartment more often, it doesn’t matter. Do you think this girl could be good for you?”

You contemplate his question seriously for a few moments.

“Maybe?” You reply, unsure. “She could be. I don’t know.”

“Well, you don’t have to know now,” Jesse says. “Just do what makes you happy, okay? That’s really all I want.”

You feel something warm growing instantaneously in your chest. Gratitude is too small of a word for what you felt towards Jesse, and you make a note to yourself to start hanging out with him more.

“Thanks, Jess. You really are the best.” You say.

“Hey, that almost rhymed.” He jokes.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re a poet and you don’t even know it!” He cackles.

You take one of your used, syrup-y paper napkins, ball it up, and toss it at his face. He catches it easily, chortling to himself.

“God, you’re a fucking dork!” You say.

“Don’t be a hater!” He says, holding his hands up defensively.

You giggle.

“I missed you, Jess.” You say.

“Missed you too, kid,” Jesse replies, eyes softening. “You’ve got to come over sometime. I haven’t beaten your ass at Smash in forever!”

You give him a hesitant smile, which he notices.

“Just come over when she’s not there.” He says, accurately assuming the reason behind your reluctance.

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“We’ll do it sometime when she’s not home. It’ll be fine, I promise.” Jesse reassures. “Plus, we haven’t had a jam sesh in forever. I miss my jamming partner.”

You smile, remembering the times when Jesse would convince you to teach him something new on his guitar or have you sing along to a song he’d been learning. He almost roped you into performing at an open mic with him back in freshman year, but you ended up chickening out.

“Don’t you have Ellie for that?” You ask timidly. You find that her name hurts to say out loud.

“She judges me too much for my exquisite and refined music taste,” Jesse complains. “She nearly threw her knife at me for trying to get her to duet a Taylor Swift song with me.”

You laugh, despite yourself.

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get.” You tease.

“Hey! This is a judgment-free zone. No judging my Swiftie habits.”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Hey, by the way,” Jesse suddenly says. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“What?”

“The girl that you’re ‘trying’ to see or whatever.”

“Oh. Right.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s umm… Abby Anderson.”

You look up to see Jesse with an expression on his face that you don’t fully recognize. His eyebrows are furrowed and it looks as if he was trying to connect the dots about something you weren’t privy to. After several moments, you see what seems like a sudden realization reach his eyes.

“Oh shit, umm.” He starts. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“What is it, Jesse?” You ask skeptically.

“No, nothing. Just processing.” He replies unconvincingly.

“Jesse,” You press. “What is it?”

“Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“Dude, come on. Don’t bullshit me.” You assert. Jesse sighs.

“That just…That just explains a couple of things, that’s all.”

“What things?”

“I—” Jesse starts but his eyes suddenly wander away from you and towards the front door of the diner. “Oh, fuck.”

You follow the direction of his gaze. You feel your throat close up and your stomach lurch as you recognize the figures of Dina and Ellie entering the restaurant. The instinct you’d developed the past year to suddenly look elsewhere whenever Ellie entered the room vanished completely when your eyes fell on her face.

Ellie was sporting a black eye with a dark gash right underneath. The bruising didn’t look fresh, but you can easily tell it happened recently. Your eyes trail down and see that her right hand is also bandaged.

“Shit.” You hear Jesse mumble, breaking you out of your wildly unravelling thoughts. You turn to face him.

“I’m so sorry, man. I had no idea that they were gonna pass by—” Jesse immediately starts to apologize.

“I-it’s okay, Jess.” You stutter. “I just—”

You fall silent as you glance back towards the pair, your eyes inadvertently meeting Ellie’s ocean green ones. Your faces make the same panicked expression before you both break eye contact to hiss at your respective friends.

“You didn’t tell Dina where we were meeting?” You whisper fervently.

“I told her that we were gonna hang out, but I completely forgot to mention where.” He says apologetically.

“Jesse…” You whine.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, bud. Do you, uh, want me to go over there and—” His sentence is cut short as Dina approaches your table.

“Hi, babe.” She says, directed at Jesse. “So, what the fuck?”

“Why are you here?” You and Jesse demand simultaneously.

“We ordered takeout and we came to pick it up so we didn’t have to pay delivery fees.” Dina explains. “Jess, why didn’t you tell me—”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think you were coming out with El!” He says defensively.

“Fucking hell,” Dina says before turning to you. “I’m sorry, honey. Are you okay?”

“I, umm,” You start, your eyes unwittingly wandering back to Ellie. She was standing awkwardly by the host’s podium, bouncing back and forth between her feet and twiddling her fingers. She seems determined to look at nothing else but at her Chuck Taylor sneakers. You shift your gaze back to Dina.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” You say weakly.

She smiles sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Is…” You begin timidly. “Is that a black eye? O-on Ellie?”

Dina and Jesse share a worried look.

“Did you tell her anything?” She asks him.

“No, not yet.” He replies.

Dina sighs.

“Tell me what?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

Dina’s hand squeezes your shoulder lightly.

“It’s—” She begins. “It’s kind of… private.”

“Oh” is all you say in response. You feel a little rebuffed and excluded, but you decide not to press further. You knew it wasn’t your business. And after all, you were no longer a foursome.

“We’re just gonna grab our food and go, okay?” Dina assures. “I’ll text you later, hun.” She says to you.

“O-okay…” You reply meekly and watch as Dina makes her way back to Ellie.

Neither you nor Jesse says anything. From your peripheral vision, you see Dina and Ellie seemingly argue about something for a few moments before the hostess arrives with a plastic bag of food, which Ellie grabs with her good hand. They leave without another glance back at you.

“Jess, I’m…” You say after a second or two of silence. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick, okay?”

Jesse responds with a simple “okay.” His eyes meet yours with an acknowledgement that you merely need a second to yourself. You nod, silently thanking him for his understanding before making your way to the diner’s bathrooms.

As you shut the door behind you, you lean against it and weep silently.

Why? Why am I here again?

You realize that it hasn’t even been a week since you were in this same, empty diner bathroom, breaking down and crying tears of frustration.

Am I not allowed to catch a fucking break?

You spend a couple of minutes breathing deeply the way your old therapist taught you before you can wrench yourself off from the door and look at yourself in the mirror.

Please, just… please.

Your right hand unwittingly comes up to touch your face, right where Ellie’s injury had been on hers.

What the hell did she get herself into?

Ellie wasn’t inherently a violent person, but she didn’t shy away from it either. She was reckless and impulsive, something about her that you used to love but also dread. A memory starts forming in your head, of you and Ellie and that December night at the Bow and Arrow.

Your reminiscence is suddenly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You take it out to see you got a text.

Abby?

You unlock your phone, giggling when you read her message.

She really is so nice to me.

Your heart starts to feel warm before it stops completely upon reading her follow-up texts.

O-oh. Oh, okay.

You gulp and feel a chill going down your spine. You almost feel the need to look around and make sure nobody is watching you, only to remember you were alone in the bathroom. Your phone buzzes with another message.

You chuckle nervously at Abby’s last message.

She’s bold, I’ll give her that.

You chew on your lip for a few moments while one hand grips your phone tightly and the other taps nervously on the bathroom counter. You take a deep breath.

Fuck it.

Remembering Jesse’s advice, you make the decision to put yourself out there again.

Hastily putting your phone back in your pocket before Abby can text back, you feel every nerve in your body tremble. Your heart hammers rapidly in your chest, but you stare at your reflection resolutely.

Abby likes you, okay? I think. And I think I can like her too. This is a chance to be part of something healthy for once.

You stand in front of the mirror, conducting your breathing exercises and attempting to convince yourself.

Back at your table while waiting for your return, Jesse is hastily questioning Dina through text if Abby Anderson was the reason that Frat Guy Adam was nearly beaten to a bloody pulp by the hands of Ellie.

author’s notes:

omg a million years later and i finally update? gasp. now everyone clap for belle (pls clap)

tbh i was too lazy to do all the phone texting parts with the format i did in the past chapters cause i hate having to mess around with the html format for the customized grey text, so my lazy ass just did screenshots of the texts instead, sorry slfkjsddsf

if you recognize the lesbian bar that i loosely based the bow and arrow on, no you didn’t

i’ve been replaying tlou2 lately and i know many of y’all headcanon jesse as a himbo which i honestly love, i’m obsessed with himbo!jesse, but i personally didn’t wanna ignore the fact that jesse’s actually a very intelligent and level-headed guy who’s extremely organized and who’s a natural leader and etc. let’s acknowledge this jesse more!

also jesse’s last name is merely inspired by the last name of the actor who plays him (stephen chang)

also jesse is a musician because i say so. i’m also hcing him as having taken piano lessons as a kid cause which of us asian kids weren’t forced to take piano lessons or whatever when we were kids, let’s be real (i took them briefly but they were boring and i’d already known and i also mostly taught myself anyway)

the part about reader's professor not knowing how to teach her own class is just me being still bitter over a mythology professor who kept trying to fail me cause i knew more about greek mythology than she did (she couldn't cause i was literally correct all the time). the bitch even tried to accuse me of plagiarism! i'm still mad.

i added in the part about ellie not inherently being a violent person as a passive-aggressive reference to craig mazin, the creator of the hbo show, who says that ellie has a violent heart when she does NOT, he does not understand our girl at all

the image i used as abby's selfie is of the body model that they based abby's character on, colleen fotsch!

wow i added waaaay too much in the author’s notes lol sorry belle has adhd everyone

anyway thank you for bearing with me as i take time uploading. replies and reblogs and messages are fuel to new chapters, so pretty please! indulge me!

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk, @awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y, @elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

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drabbles-mc · 5 months ago

Text

Something I Need

Cal x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: two things. one, i went down a rabbithole because i thought i missed Cal's real name when i watched the movie only to learn they never said it. i still found it anyway. shout-out to google. two, i will be back on my regularly scheduled johnny/benny bullshit soon but this idea hit me and i couldn't not write it down 😂

You had known Cal for a long time. You knew him before he was Cal—back when he was just Arthur. You’d met back when he wasn’t “from California”, he was from Canada and living in California. You were both living there at the time. He was a mechanic back then, tinkering with bikes and cars alike even if the tinkering was outside of the actual job at hand.

His hair had been a little longer back then, still tied out of his face by the makeshift bandana he wrapped around his forehead. The dangling earring was a new accessory at that point, not that you would’ve known that the first time you met him.

You’d dropped your car off earlier in the morning because you needed an oil change. Cal wasn’t the person you’d handed your keys to a few hours before. Whoever that had been looked like a kid who wasn’t even old enough to drive, let alone work on your car. It felt silly to tell him that along with the oil change to let you know if there was anything else that needed to be done on the car, but you said it regardless.

When you showed back up again you were expecting to see the same kid from before, but instead you were met with Cal. Arthur. Compared to the kid that you’d met when you showed up in the morning, he seemed like a seasoned professional. Grease on his hands and dirt on his work-shirt, he spoke to you like you’d met a thousand times before.

“Swapped out the oil,” he said casually enough. “All set there. Car’s good to go as-is if you want. But I think if we actually switched, I mean I got a couple parts from this other—”

“Sorry,” you cut him off, hand resting on your hip, “who are you?”

His brows pinched for a moment and then he cracked a smile. “Arthur.” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, not deterred by the grease or callouses. “The one gettin’ your car to the point where she can get up ‘n go.”

“Took a lot to get her there, did it?” you asked, unable to hide your amusement.

He cracked a grin. “Nah, nah not really. Kid said you wanted to know if anything else needed work, though.”

“And you found something?”

He shrugged, hooking his thumbs on the beltloops of his jeans. “Depends.”

You didn’t even bother trying to hide the smile on your face. “On?”

His smile widened right alongside yours. “What d’you mean when you say need?”

That was the start and the end of it all. Almost six years had ticked right on by and there were still days when you would walk outside in the morning and find him sliding underneath your car to mess around with something else. California had been in the rearview for years now, but no matter where one of you went, the other always followed. Chicago had been good to the two of you so far.

Every now and then you’d make a comment about your car. You’d mention scrapping it and getting a new one, saying that it was probably just about past its expiration date by now anyway. Cal, even if he was halfway across the bar or at a different picnic table would hear you. In no time at all he’d be plopping down to sit next to you, or standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders as he leaned down to talk to you. He’d always ask why you would be going around saying something like that about a perfectly good car.

“What don’t you like? Tell me what it is—I’ll fix it. Guarantee, baby, I’ve got something for whatever it is.”

Most of the time there wasn’t actually anything wrong. You just liked to get a rise out of him. If he ever caught onto that, he never told you about it. Within the next twenty-four hours, though, you’d be sure to find him popping the hood of your car, determined to find whatever problem you didn’t disclose to him because it didn’t exist. It was good for him—gave him something else to work on alongside his bike.

This time, though, he was working on your car for a reason. You made an offhand comment about a ticking noise while you drove and when you woke up in the morning to an empty bed you had no doubts about where he was. You pulled a sweater on over the tank top you’d gone to bed in and made your way outside to the garage. He had the radio on, although you could hear more static than you could music. Between that and his laser-focus on your car, he didn’t notice you walking in.

It wasn’t until you turned the volume down on the radio that his head snapped over in your direction. The look on his face only remained tense for a moment until he realized it was you. Then he eased, the same cheesy grin taking over his face as a handful of years ago. He maneuvered so that his arms were up, hands braced against the edge of the popped hood of your car.

“So?” you said as you walked over, arms crossed over your chest as you looked back and forth between him and the open front of your car. “She gonna make it?”

“Psh.” He shook his head. “’Course she is.”

You laughed, leaning back against the car so that you were facing him. “I think you’re only a couple parts away from making this a completely different car.”

He smiled. “I don’t think so.”

“Think of all the parts you could take from this car and put into a new one if I got it?”

That was enough to give him pause for a brief moment. The idea of a new project to mess around with was always enticing. But eventually he remembered the topic at hand and shook his head. “No. No way.”

You laughed, crossing one leg over the other. “Why not?”

“I wouldn’t have you if you didn’t have this,” he said as he gestured to the car. “And, this is the car that got us all the way out here.”

You shook your head. “It got me out here. Someone had to ride—”

“Alright, alright,” he laughed and playfully waved you off. He paused for a moment. “You know I’m right, though.”

“Yeah,” you conceded. “You’re right.” You held one hand out to him. “C’mere.”

He gave a small shake of his head as he stepped back, arms falling down to his sides. He turned his hands over, revealing the dark stains on his palms from the work he’d already put in over the morning. “Nah, baby, I’ll get shit all over your—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards you. He stumbled right into you, not having expected it even though he probably should have. His other hand that you weren’t holding instinctively found its home on your hip, having slipped beneath your sweater. He was shaking his head at you, already able to see the smudges on the fabric, already knew that there were going to be marks on your hands. But when he saw the smile on your face he also knew that you weren’t going to care about that—you never had.

“Know what I need?” you asked as you rested your other hand on his chest.

He tilted his head, earring swaying as he did. “What’s that?”

You smiled. Moving your hand up from his chest to his cheek, you pulled him in and pressed your lips to his. You felt it, the smile before he kissed you back. His hand on your hip held on a little tighter as he moved himself closer to you. A mildly precarious balance of wanting him pressing and leaning into you but not wanting to lose your balance and topple backwards. Not that it’d be the first time the two of you had gotten carried away and ended up in a pile of laughs rather than anything else.

Pulling his lips off of yours, he stayed close enough for your lips to just barely brush as he spoke. “You said you needed somethin’?”

You felt the curl of his lips into a smile as he said it, a joke that only the two of you were around to be in on. Your nose brushed against his as you shook your head at him. “Yeah. Just need one more thing real quick.”

He hummed in amusement. “Real quick, huh?”

You laughed, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t sound like you believe me.”

“I know better.”

You kissed him again, soft and lingering. “You gonna let me tell you what it is?”

He shook his head, a knowing grin on his face as he felt the small, playful tugs on his hair you were messing with. “I know what it is—‘s why I know it’s not gonna be quick.”

(divider by @cyberangel-graphics 💞)

The Bikeriders Taglist (if you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!): @garbinge

#the bikeriders #the bikeriders fanfiction #cal #cal the bikeriders #cal x reader #cal x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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donationwayne · 2 months ago

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here's my confession (I'm kind of hooked on you)

Pairing: Buddie || 6.5k/109k || Chapter 1/19 ||

Hello, I participated in @118bigbang !! This is the first chapter (I'll be dropping the rest through the month). I'm so excited to finally be sharing this fic with everyone, I've worked so hard!!! Lots of moral support from my friends in the Buddie Enablers Anonymous discord <3

This is also lovingly entitled: DILF EDDIE

Summary:

Buck is forced to go on a temporary medical leave after getting crushed by a flight of stairs. In the meantime, he works at dispatch while he recovers. One evening after work, Buck hooks up with a mysterious, hot, family oriented DILF. The following morning he’s mortified and a little love sick after discovering said hook-up aka Eddie Diaz is the newest (temporary) firefighter liaison--poached from a house in El Paso, Texas. Buck navigates becoming best friends and eventually work partners with his ex-hookup. In the meantime, he desperately tries not to fall in love. He fails.

Cue: An adorable five year old, prank wars, gay offs, break room gossip, a fake dating plot, firefighting shenanigans, a packed summer of PTA responsibilities, karaoke, and copious amounts of cupcakes and thai food

tldr: the hot dilf from the bar is my new work partner ______

SNIP:

“Bobby invited us for lunch. Athena’s getting me out of the apartment and making me walk around like a dog who needs to get its energy out.” Buck explains earning a huff of amusement from Athena. Hen smacks him lightly for his mock petulant tone.

Without being asked, Hen loops her arm around his waist and helps him tackle the stairs. Buck lets out a slow breath, seeing firsthand that absolutely nothing has changed during his month and a half away from the team soothes him. Bobby is in the kitchen with Chimney who is pestering him incessantly. The sight makes his chest ache because he never wants to lose these people. They felt more like family than his own ever had growing up. In such a short amount of time they’d come to know each other so deeply, they've already been through so much—especially after Chimney had his incident with the wreck and the rebar. He was barely back from his own medical leave before Buck had his own incident.

Although Bobby nagged him for weeks, Buck opted for a tiny graduation celebration. At the time, he hadn’t known how to explain to Bobby that there was no one outside of his tiny circle of friends to invite. Now Athena knows though, and he needs to make a mental note to ask if she could keep their conversation between the two of them. He doesn’t want to change the way his friends see him, and he doesn't want pity. He’s worried this new information might be a little too on the nose.

“What’s new with you, Buckley?” Chimney calls across the room, smiling and waving. “How you healing up?” Buck slides into a seat at the dining table, and Bobby, Chim, and Hen turn their full attention onto him.

“I’m healing alright. They’ve still got me on track for a return after six months. I’ll be able to walk without the crutch before too long, my ribs should be healed in a couple of weeks. Then I’ll just have PT to contend with, because of the leg strain and the fracture, my trainer says it might be tenuous, so I have that to look forward to at least.”

“It’ll be here in no time,” Chimney promised. “You just need to get a hobby. You’re lacking in those. Maybe I could make you a list of movies, you’re tragically behind on pop culture.”

“Actually, I've accepted a temporary position at dispatch,” Buck admits. Bobby beams, and Buck barely restrains a groan.

“Yes, I finally caved.” Buck tells him, although he didn’t ask. “Athena took me to visit today.”

___ Reblogs to boost appreciated :)

#dilf eddie #aubs writes fanfic #dilf eddie chapter one #911 abc #911 fanfic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fanfic #the 118 as family #buddie #dispatcher evan buckley #this fic is going to be so chaotic #bobby and athena adopt buck immediately #118 Big Bang 2024 #911 big bang 2024 #911 big bang #Buddie Wip #911 wip

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hopelesslyromanticgay · 1 year ago

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Playing with her hair - Vada Cavell X Reader

Y/N's POV:

"Why are people in horror movies so dumb!" my girlfriend Vada complains, "Like in the real world no one is stupid enough to do ANY of this. Like, no one would even pick up the phone in the first place!"

"Uh huh," I say to the girl sprawled out across my lap and the rest of the couch, not fully paying attention to what she's saying. I'm more focused on counting her freckles. A while ago, the question of how many freckles she had started to interest me and ever since it's been hard to get the idea out of my mind.

68...

69...

70...

"Y/N/N, are you listening to me?" she asks, breaking my trance, "am I rambling again, I'm sorry."

"Don't be! You're cute when you ramble," I reassure her. She looks over at me, a huge smile creeping over her face, her beautiful brown eyes shimmering in the dim light.

"In that case, I'm gonna keep going," she tells me, "what kind of dumbass decides it's a good idea to let their younger than six year old kid go out of the house alone on a rainy day!"

"Bad ones, I guess," I say absentmindedly. We keep on watching the movie we have on, neither of us really focused on it. without even thinking of it, my hands make their way to her hair.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Messing with your hair," I admit.

"Oh my god, are we acting like a normal couple?" she gasps.

"Do you not like it?"

"No!" she exclaims, "please don't stop."

"Oh my god, can I style it?"

"As long as it's not too fancy," she insists. One of the first things I ever learned about Vada is how much she hates looking fancy. She doesn't like the tight fitting "feminine" clothing, or the way makeup feels on her face. She hates the way her hair gets tightly pulled into an uncomfortable style, and then gelled into place. What's even worse is if she has to do all three of those TOGETHER. So I'm making it a point to keep it fairly informal, but still neat.

I run my fingers through her dark brunette locks, trying to get the various knots out.

"Ow!" that one hurt!" she squeals.

"Sorry, oh my god are you okay?" I apologize, hoping I haven't hurt her too bad.

"I guess," she says sadly.

"Will this make it better?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She looks up at me smiling, "so much better." I brush a few strands of hair out of her face before continue styling it. She climbs into my lap, facing away from me so I can better access her hair.

I start parting her hair, so that there's an even amount of it on each side of her face.

"Oh my god Beverly get out of that house!" Vada screams, practically jumping up at the television, "I swear these people are so dumb."

"Vada, baby, you need to sit slightly still for this to look good," I say softly.

"Fine," she pouts, "why is you doing this kind of relaxing?"

"Maybe I just have that effect on you," I suggest.

"No, normally you make me so excited and happy, like a little kid seeing a bunch of candy and a lot of stuffies!"

"Aww, that's cute," I smile, my face getting warm.

"You're the best girlfriend ever," she compliments me, "I don't know how I wound up with someone as beautiful and funny and all around amazing as you."

"Maybe it's because you're the best girlfriend ever," I suggest.

"No you are!"

"No you!" We continue to argue about who's the better girlfriend, eventually realizing that we'd never get the other to agree with our opinion.

I end up sorting her hair into two neat braids, not too fancy, but presentable.

"And voila!" I say, snapping a photo of the brunette to show her how she looks. She turns around quickly to view the photo.

"I look like Wednesday Addams if she had severe PTSD," she laughs, "but seriously, I love it."

"You do look like that!" I cackle, "what a funny coincidence!"

"Thank you, Y/N/N. I love it," she smiles softly, a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"Sure thing, it was probably more fun for me than it was for you," I giggle.

"Well you can play with my hair anytime," she offers.

"Haha! You're gonna regret making that offer," I tell her.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #i love jenna ortega #vada cavell #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x fem! reader #vada cavell x you #cute #the fallout #jenna ortega x you #reader insert #vada cavell x reader #fanfic #drabble #one shot #jenna ortega one shot #vada cavell one shot #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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malebodyexhibit · 2 years ago

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Getting in the Action (a Next Door Boy tale)

'Never meet your heroes' is how that saying goes, but for me it should be, 'never become your hero.'

I first saw my hero on the big screen when I was in fourth grade. He was the coolest thing ever! There was a movie where he was a pilot and pulled off cool stunts in planes. My dad and I idolized him. He was the one who dragged me to the movie. It became his way to get me to do things, like "Tom always eats his vegetables" or "I doubt Tom failed his Math class." And, being the idiot I was, I obeyed.

The movie star’s influence steered my life to places I never thought I'd go. I got into weight lifting, because in all his movies, he always had that shirtless scene to hammer in the point that he was a man's man. That is what men should be. I bought a fitness magazine after I watched that movie where he has sex with his girlfriend and he strutted around his apartment naked. I wanted to be like that (confident in my own skin), so I studied the magazine and used my father's dumbbells. When I reached high school, I had washboard abs and biceps the size of grapefruits.

And sure, I was built like a linebacker, but I didn't enjoy sports. Of course I valued athleticism, but I also wanted to be an actor. I tried out for roles in Drama class and mostly got them for my good looks and body, but I really put in effort. It wasn't until we started rehearsing for Shakespeare's "The Tempest" that I started to appreciate the sounds and art of classical theatre. So in English I found a new joy. My dreams shifted from action movie star to a classical theatre. I really wanted to impress my hero that I was making something of myself for him.

Then the Next Door Boy craze happened. I'm sure you already know what happened. The debauchery and scandals. Yet, when it calmed, the benevolent acts stood out. People who lost out on life got a second chance. And then Tom announced something truly amazing:

"Hello, everyone. So many of you are my fans and have been since I was on the big screens almost half a century ago. No doubt I've gotten old. Seeing my gray hair is always a shock. But many of you suggested that I continue my legacy and through the efforts of Next Door Boy, I can. I won't just accept anyone. I want to only accept the biggest fan of mine. I want to take you with me to the stars in show business. So, fill out the application, send in those photos, and let's make something together."

The news was shocking. I could be him. He could be in me. We could share a future together. So of course I applied. I had my dad shoot the photos of me. He was over the moon. Anything for our hero.

And I was chosen. I couldn't breathe when I heard the news. The rest blurred in a rush of euphoria. I was seated in a chair at Next Door Boy as the agent went over the details. I was to be Tom’s body and I would still exist, but I wouldn't have control over anything; I would ride backseat in my mind. Do you accept?

"Yes," I said. Those were my last words spoken by my mouth by me.

---

"Tell me how much you like it when I do this," Tom whispered as he pulled my shirt over his nipple. He ran his hand over what used to be my stomach.

"Stop, please," I whimpered. I could only communicate in our shared mind. It had been a couple months since the procedure and since then, Tom has been using my body for his sexual gratification. I know he isn't even gay. He just likes tormenting me.

"I don't think so," he taunted. He stuck a finger in his mouth and gave a soft moan. As he pulled it out, a trail of spittle followed. He reached around our back and I felt the push against our tight hole. In a rush, he plunged it in. A sudden ache hit us and he moaned while I screamed, "stop!" He drove it in and out. He buckled over the restroom counter and continued to go knuckles deep. Finally, he pulled out the digit and wiped it on my six pack. "Well, that's enough for now. I don't want to make you too loose. I want this body to last a few years."

He jumped in the shower then got dressed. Around my parents he was a model son. Even though they know he wasn't me, but some middle aged action star, they still treated him like me.

"There's my boy!" My dad said and he stood to hug my body. My body hugged him back and my father beamed at us. He took my face in his hands and said, "have fun out there."

"Don't worry, dad. I will!" Tom said from my mouth. He was beaming his innocent smile. "Hey, mom. I have to fly to a studio today. We're starting on the set of a new movie. Could you pack me lunch?"

"Of course, dear. That sounds fun!" My mother smiled and went to prepare something in the kitchen.

"So how is it being the action hero?" Dad asked. I couldn't tell who he was asking. It seemed my parents believed I was still in control or that it was a mix of both. But no. It was always Tom.

I remember waking up from the procedure and seeing myself, unable to move or speak. I watched as he ran my hands over my arms and chest. I watched him flex in my body.

I felt how aroused he was getting from checking out my body. "God damn, boy," he said, "you're a snack." If it wasn't for health regulations, I'm sure he'd whip out our cock then and jerk off. But instead, he waited for the public restroom in the hallway. Since then, he tortures me by treating my body like a dildo or a fleshlight. It wasn't useful unless it was pounding or being pounded at both ends.

"It's pretty good. Let me tell you about the movie I'm shooting." Tom_ said, "It's about a college student, me, who has to fight off bank robbers and saves the day. It takes place in Vegas."

"That sounds cool," my dad said. "Remember, don't drink. You might be an action star, but you're still my son."

The man in my body smiled. "Of course."

We left the house and walked toward a limo waiting for us at the curb.

"It was a lie," he said now that we were alone.

"What?" I asked.

"There is a movie, but it's not one where the hero wins. He tries fighting the robbers and finds himself facedown in his own piss. He's then stripped and finds out how much loves a dicking and giving head."

"It's a porno?!" I screamed incredulously. "You can't make me do that! That's disgusting and I'm not gay!"

"It doesn't matter if you're gay. I already set up something with a studio. They're wanting a few hundred movies of us, well me in you. They like your body, and I do too, especially when it's a cheap slut for cock." He smiled, flashing the driver a toothy grin. His signature boyish charm displayed on my face.

"You're supposed to make me famous," I cried. The promise of his echoing in my head.

"And I will make you famous. There will be no gay man alive who wouldn't have seen take a couple dicks. I will make you a household name in the porn industry. I will wear out your hole and it so you can't pretend you're a straight virgin."

"Please, stop," I begged, uselessly. I watched as he pulled a beer out from a cooler. He twisted off the cap and chugged the bottle. Since he was in my body, he drank incessantly and ate passionately. He rarely maintained my exercise and I feared my fit body would slip away.

"Why should I? What's the point of working out when I can just get another teen like you desperate for fame? I'll know it's time to leave your body when I can't see my toes and I can't get a good fuck. You can have your body back when that happens." He said as he opened a second bottle of beer. He was already unbuckling his belt to relieve himself of the strain. I cried in the unfeeling void of his mind.

#possession #male mental change #straight to gay #male body exhibit #a next door boy tale #next door boy #male takeover #old to young #body theft

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natalievoncatte · 1 year ago

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She knows I’m coming. She probably heard me six blocks away. Heard my voice, my heartbeat.

Lena walked softly down the hall of Kara’s building, counting the doors, counting how many times she had walked past these old bricks with joy lifting her heart. Game nights and movie nights and sleepovers, all the little things she’d torn apart with her bare hands in petty vengeance for Kara’s betrayal.

She did betray me! She lied, she manipulated, she used me.

Lena reached the door and hesitated.

Used me for what? What did Kara or Supergirl ever ask of me that I wouldn’t have given freely?

In her secret heart, Lena knew that it was what Kara didn’t ask for. The one thing she never wanted. She stood outside the door for a half minute, fingers curled in a loose fist as she fought to find the willpower to do this.

It never came. Kara swung the door in and stood there. She was dressed in a soft, yellow sweater and gray leggings, hair down and barefoot, in her natural state where she was just Kara.

A momentary flicker of concern folded Kara’s brows when Lena’s heart raced explosively. Maybe she really could hear it.

If only she’d listened to it.

Lena dropped her hand to her side. Her carefully prepared speech fell to ash in her mouth and she trembled on the spot, eyes a little too wide as Kara looked at her with a flat expression. Not anger. Not remorse. Not concern.

(not desire)

Just… nothing.

It felt like a thousand years passed when Kara turned around and silently padded back into her loft, stopping by the table. She stood, her back to Lena, arms folded, silent.

But she didn’t close the door.

Lena stepped tentatively inside and swung the door shut behind her. She swallowed hard, trying to wet her throat so she could speak, but nothing worked.

Finally, she managed to begin choking it out.

“I made a terrible mistake.”

Kara said nothing.

“I was hurt. I was so hurt. I let it blind me and lead me down a dark path. I thought I could fix everything. I just wanted to make the hurting stop. All the hurting. Lex is back. He’s taken my research and he’s going to do something terrible with it. I want to help you stop him.”

There was still no reaction. Lena wasn’t sure if she saw Kara’s shoulders move or if it was a figment of her imagination. She supposed it didn’t matter. Kara wasn’t saying anything.

Lena couldn’t hold back the sob that burst out of her. She could see it now, the anger burning inside Kara. The rejection and betrayal. The fury as cold as the crystal walls of her secret fortress.

This was it. Lena did it. She won.

She made Kara hate her.

Lena sagged, almost falling like a puppet with cut strings. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and tried to fight back the tears and failed. They fell freely, cutting hot lines down her cheeks as sobs wracked her body.

She didn’t beg or plead; her silence was not born of stiff-necked Luthor arrogance but of resignation. She couldn’t bear it. If she beseeched Kara for forgiveness and was met only with silence she might die.

Lena turned for the door, half blinded, wishing some hell would swallow her up and bring an end to this misery.

She didn’t make it.

A powerful arm drew around her with sublime care. A hand that could crush titanium rested gently on her shoulder, and she was turned around so delicately, so gently, that she wondered if she’d fainted and this was a dream.

Even with Lena in heels, Kara easily brought Lena’s head to her shoulder and rested her own chin atop hers, taking Lena into a deep, careful embrace. Lena hugged back hard, with all her strength. She hugged Kara as if she meant to climb inside her, as if she could never let go. Kara was still silent.

“Kara?”

Kara took a deep breath, her powerful body shuddering in Lena’s arms.

“I thought I lost you forever.”

Lena shattered again, harder this time. She sobbed against Kara, digging her fingers into Kara’s back. Kara simply stroked her hair and hummed softly into Lena’s scalp.

“I don’t want to let go of you,” Kara whispered.

Kara shifted, looking down at her. Lena drew back, blinking tear-reddened eyes. Kara just stared at her, eyes searching, drinking every detail of her face. With her fingers, she lightly brushed a lock of hair from Lena’s cheek and smiled.

Kara was radiant. It was like the sun had finally emerged from behind dark clouds and Lena stood full in its warmth again. She hasn’t seen that smile in so long, she could barely believe it had ever been real. The sheer joy in Kara’s eyes was too much to bear.

Lena was barely aware that she’d lifted up on her toes, that she was reaching, back arching, arms around Kara’s waist to steady herself.

The look of absolute shock on Kara’s face paled in comparison to the softness of her lips. Kara stood stone still for a moment and Lena’s heart jumped again as she thought she’d again made a terrible mistake, and started to pull back.

There was nowhere to go. Kara casually lifted Lena from her feet as she kissed her back, effortlessly pulling her into a spinning, joyous hug.

When Kara put her down again, Lena knew she was a mess of red-rimmed eyes and tears with a silly smile on her face. Kara’s eyes were wet, too, and Lena had left a smear of dark lipstick behind.

“Kara,” Lena whispered. “Is this… are we… can we…”

Kara’s shoulders rolled back and she stood to her full height, gently cupping Lena’s chin in her soft hand.

“Lena, I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.”

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reigningqueenofwords · 3 months ago

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Who Do You Love?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Part 8 of Little Soldier

It was approaching Christmas, and Bucky was both excited and nervous. He had been doing a lot more with Dom since the two of you sat with him at that pizza parlor. Things had been going really well between you and Bucky, as well. He wanted to get you something nice, but would likely give that to you alone. As far as he knew, no one in the tower even guessed that the two of you were back together, and had been for a few months. He’d gone Christmas shopping with Steve for Dom the week before, and was now eager to give his son his presents. Which was comical and endearing.

Bucky was currently watching a movie in your room with Dom while you went to see Tony. He had JARVIS to ask you to meet him in his lab, but not why. You honestly couldn’t begin to think of what the eccentric inventor wanted. Licking your lips, you let yourself in. “You wanted to see me?” You asked

Looking over, he beamed at you. “So, I know Christmas isn’t for another week and a half, but I wanted to give you your present now.” He got up.

“Tony, you can wait.” You chuckled at how excited he looked. “Waiting will not kill you.” You teased him gently. “Why don’t you want to give it to me when we all exchange presents on Christmas morning?” Knowing him it could be anything.

“Because I’m me, and you know I’ll blurt it out even if you tell me not to.” He said easily, shrugging. “So! Who do you love?” He smirked, amusing you.

You shook your head, smiling. “If you’re so insistent, just give me the present.” You poked him.

He put his arm around your shoulders and motioned to a nearby screen. “Okay, JARVIS. Show us.” He told his AI. A moment later, a cute little house was on the screen. “I found a house in Brooklyn. Three bedrooms, a nice little yard, and he can stay in the school he’s in.” He explained. “In the spring I’m getting his soccer stuff all set up for him. Figured you guys can start moving in after the New Year.” He looked so proud that this was your Christmas present. “Plus, I want to get the inside painted to how you’d like to have it.” He went on. “I want you guys to have the home you deserve. I know you didn’t want to go back to the old house, and I don’t like the idea of moving you guys to Maine.” Tony made a face, amusing you. “Too far. So, I’ve been looking at houses over the past six months.”

Without saying anything, you pulled him into a hug, tearing up. Despite what you were sure many people thought, Tony Stark was one of the most thoughtful people you had ever met. He looked out for those he cared about, and went above and beyond. “Thank you.” You sniffed, feeling emotional. “I had fully intended to raise Dom here, with our family, but the thought of him getting to play in a yard again…” You sighed.

“Yeah, thought this would be better than me putting a soccer field on the roof…” He joked, making you laugh. “I was thinking we could bring Dom tomorrow? Show you two the house, and you guys can pick out some paint colors?” He offered as you pulled back. “Get some lunch, too?” He looked hopeful about getting some time with you and Dom.

You nodded. “I think we can swing that.” You chuckled. “I won’t tell him about the house, though. I know you’d love to see his face when he realizes that it’s ours.”

“Yeah, I will. But, that’s it.” He shrugged. “I’m just working on some tech for the house to get put in, too. JARVIS will be there, you’re getting these windows I was reading about. Saw a video of a dude trying to break it with a sledge hammer. Didn’t even crack. So, I bought one.” He pointed to where one was leaning against the wall. “Gave it a go. Seems pretty strong. Which I know will give us both great comfort.” He knew you were likely thinking of all the things that could go wrong. “Now, I was trying to find a way to get one of my suits to fly out to your house if an alarm sounded. Like a warning type deal while the rest of us get there. However, that’s got some bugs I can’t seem to work out.” He muttered, looking annoyed. “I’m working on it.”

“I can tell you’re very excited about the tech in the new house.” You teased. “Are you gonna sleep over the first night and tinker if something goes wrong?”

He smirked. “I just might.” He countered, making you laugh. “Alright, go on. I’m gonna get back to what I was doing. Tell Dom it’s his choice for lunch tomorrow.”

“I will. Thanks, Tony. For everything.” You said as you made your way to the door. You were nervous after what had happened at the old house, but you were also very excited. Especially for Dom!

Both Bucky and Dom looked over when you walked in. “Everything okay?” He asked, never knowing what Tony would want.

You nodded. “I’ll explain more later, but I will say that Tony wants to take me and Dom out tomorrow for a treat.” You chuckled at how Dom perked up. “And you get to choose where we get lunch.” You sat on the other side of your son. “So, I think you should make sure to choose the yummiest food you can think of. Okay?”

Dom nodded excitedly. “Yeah!” He agreed. “I’ll pick the perfect place.” He promised you.

Bucky did Dom’s bedtime that night, eager to have the seven year old read to him. He’d learned so much in school, and with Steve, that he barely needed much help. It was the highlight of his days. Once he drifted off, Bucky put the book away, tucked him in, and watched him for a moment before going to find you. You were finishing up the last few dishes, your hair up in a loose bun. He walked up behind you, kissing your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “So, how about we get some ice cream, go watch a movie, and curl up together?” He grinned.

You smiled at that. “I think I can agree with that. Want to know what Tony wanted first?” You asked, knowing this would affect him, too. Part of you was worried about how he would react. At the moment, the two of you could see each other easily, and he could do bedtime any day of the week. This would change that entire dynamic.

“Of course.” He agreed easily, moving to get a couple bowls. “What’s going on?”

Drying your hands, you turned to lean on the counter, your eyes watching him as he moved around. He seemed so at ease. “He gave me my Christmas present.” You started, making him chuckle. “A house.” You licked your lips as he paused, the freezer door open. “In Brooklynn.” You went on.

Bucky was quiet as he pulled out the ice cream carton. “He bought you a house?” He asked.

“Yeah. It’s a three bedroom with a little yard, and Dom can stay in his current school. He’s replacing all the windows with these super strong ones, some other security measures, and something about his suits? I dunno, that’s not working at the moment.” You shrugged. “He’s taking us to look at the house and pick out paints tomorrow before lunch.”

He sagged, knowing that would make it a tad more difficult to see you and Dom. “When do you move?” He asked, glancing at you for a moment.

“We start after New Year’s.” You hoped he wasn’t upset. “And then in the spring he’s gonna put some soccer stuff in the back for him. Apparently he didn’t like the idea of giving me his Maine house because we’d be too far.” You chuckled lightly.

Bucky stopped serving and came over to wrap his arms around you. “I don’t want you to leave.” He half whined as he buried his face in your neck. You hugged him back, surprised at him whining. “You’ll be so far.” He huffed. “And I can’t just come hold you, and spend time with Dom.” You rubbed his back as he kept you as close as he could. “I don’t like that.”

You felt for him, but honestly hadn’t expected this reaction. “We won’t be hours away, babe.” You said gently. “We’re still gonna be pretty close.” You reminded him. “You can come visit.”

“Not the same.” His voice was muffled by your neck, amusing you. “I can’t just come climb into your bed when Dom’s having a sleepover with Stevie.” Which he did have a habit of doing. “And yeah, I can say I’m going to visit Dom, but I have a feeling Nat’s gonna get suspicious after awhile.” He sighed as he pulled away, pouting.

Cupping his cheek, you gave him a small smile before pecking his lips. “Maybe we can start to let the others know about...us?” You said shyly. “Start with Steve and Tony?” You suggested. You felt that things were going really well, and those two people would honestly be the most accepting. “Then work on telling the others before we move?”

Blinking, he stared at you. “We as in we ?” He motioned between the two of you. “Or do you mean ‘we’ as in you and Dom. Because I can’t tell with the way you said it.” He said quickly, the cutest look on his face.

You giggled. “Well, we as in we , if you’d like that.” You were nervous as hell, of course you were! “Or even part time to begin with? Like, you coming to stay on the weekends, or you staying here on the weekends? Split your time? I know you still have your job with the Avengers.” You bit your lip. It wasn’t like his very important job was going to go away or anything.

He slowly smiled at that. “Yeah?” He said playfully. “You want me to tag along? Oh, are we gonna play house?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Laughing, you slapped his arm playfully. “Dork.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “So, we’re gonna tell Tony and Steve soon, and plan for you to move with me at least part time?” You asked.

“I like the sound of that.” He pecked your lips. “Let’s eat our ice cream, watch a movie, and then go curl up together?” He suggested, honestly looking forward to being able to hold your hand whenever he wanted once the whole team knew you were back together.

“Sounds like a good night to me.” You grinned. You had butterflies in your stomach. “First, do you want me to tell Tony tomorrow while we’re out, or do you want to tell him together?”

He thought for a minute. “How about you tell him tomorrow, and I’ll drag Stevie out for lunch and tell him? Then have Stevie over for dinner tomorrow night? I’d say Tony, too, but half the time he eats in his lab, or forgets until after dinner’s over.” He chuckled, shaking his head. Not that he’d change the man for anything. No matter how annoying he got at times, he was also a decent guy.

“Deal.” You agreed.

Dom watched the city go by as Tony drove the three of you to the house. He had been very excited to see that there wouldn’t be a driver that day. He’d rarely seen Tony drive before. “Almost there, buddy.” Tony told him, glancing in the rear view mirror. “Maybe after lunch we’ll stop at the park?”

“Please!” Dom grinned. “Can we get cheeseburgers for lunch?” He asked. “Not McDonald’s. Those other ones you brought home? With those big fries?”

Tony chuckled. “I know the ones you’re talking about. Yeah, we can do that.” He agreed easily. “Good choice. I look forward to it.”

Dom ran around the house, excited. “I love this house!” He said as he passed you and Tony, making the two of you laugh. You were thankful that he was taking to this so well. You’d explained that you wouldn’t be moving right away, but he liked that. He wanted to have more sleepovers with Steve beforehand. Then asked you if he could have Steve over for a sleepover the first night in the new house. Of course you had agreed.

“So, getting any color ideas?” He inquired.

Dom was currently upstairs at the moment, so you decided to slightly mention the Bucky thing. “Actually, I think I’d like to talk to Bucky about it.” You told him, making him smirk at you. “I’ll explain more while he plays at the park.”

He nodded. “I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, but works for me.”

Tagging:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm @vicmc624 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @sebastians-love @differenttyphoonwerewolf

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imagionationstation · 7 months ago

Note

*Slams open the door to your inbox very, very loudly*

I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR AN AU

But this one is a little bit deranged.

AU where only Donatello and Karai are raised by Splinter and the rest (Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo) were raised by the Shredder. (Or vice versa idk which would be funnier)

It's stupid, I KNOW— but wdnsixjsks—

Just imagine the lone turtle being raised by the opposite side of the other three, accompanied with just as fierce + overprotective older sister who'd drop kick anyone who ever attempt to claim the title as 'Donatello's older sibling'.

Donnie'd be so confused to suddenly have a group of the same species as him suddenly thrusted into his life after spending years of beliving he's the only one— and oh look they're now claiming him to be their brother, how neat.

Karai is NOT happy because that's HER little brother and they have to pry him out of her cold, dead hands.

Leo and Raph would be, "You're our master's daughter and that's OUR little brother", to which Karai would be, ">:0".

Cue to Mikey and Donnie arguing who is older.

I'm not sure about you, but I am also a sucker for (over)protective Mikey. It's a neat concept, one that hasn't been explored much by the fandom— but arhwidnsidnsi.

I just love the purple genius, okay?

This AU is purely crack and self-indulgent at this point hahah.

-Ellestrade

Donnie didn’t consider himself to be a bad son, per say.

Sensei always had a list of rules to keep him safe. Never go down to the ground floor unless the dojo was closed for the day. Never open the curtains because he might be glimpsed. Never go out into the yard unless he got permission or had one of them with him.

And never, under any circumstances, was he to enter New York City.

Sensei was always very careful when it came to his safety. It’s the whole reason that he found a place outside the city for him to grow up, miles away from people, but close enough to the city that Miwa could visit to terrorize socialize whenever she feels cooped up.

Donnie’s never had that luxury, but now he was fifteen.

Fifteen was practically driving age. Fifteen is old enough to be in a high school and get invited to parties that sounded unsafe and rent adult movies behind parents backs and get to buy things at stores or check out books at the library!

He’s definitely responsible enough to borrow some books on his own.

Fifteen is also the perfect age for sneaking out and breaking rules.

It’s not really his fault. It’s the hormone and teenage ritual stuff. He couldn’t help it, probably. That’s what Miwa always says. Sensei buys it sometimes. He goes easy on her. So when Donnie wakes up to a carpeted floor and a splitting migraine, he knows he’s been caught and he’ll need every reasonable excuse that he can get his hands on.

It’s his birthday, anyway. Sensei can’t be too mad.

There are muffled voices around him as he lifts his head, immediately regretting it when pain spikes from his skull and scatters across his forehead. He clutches at his skull, groaning miserably. He’s never had an all-nighter migraine this intense before.

He supposes that this is what Miwa would call a personal problem as remains on the ground, forcing his eyes open to get a read on the situation. He expects to see his father hovering as Miwa goads him into a punishment because the consequences of his actions was never enough for her.

Somehow, his father usually ends up letting him off the hook instead. A perk of being an extinct species that can never see the light of day, he supposes, is endless sympathy points.

Donnie’s greeted with three shells, four blinding overhead lights, five individual weapons, and six eyes, all balanced out by a truckload of confusion. He stares, blinking sluggishly, as one of the turtles announces, “Well, he’s not dead.”

And just like that, this has officially slotted itself to be the weirdest dream Donnie has ever had.

DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT I HAD TOO-

So anyway, feel free to assume that he’s in pain and kidnapped for any number of reasons because I have about twelve different ideas and they are all equal GREAT for the crack AU atmosphere that is in development in my brain.

I’m just imaging a backstory where Shredder fought the Kraang (cause he was hangry or something, who knows) and the turtles (sitting abandoned in the alley, maybe?) are corrupt with mutagen.

Absolutely dumbfounded but not stupid enough to leave the little freaks of nature behind, he (still human) snatches three of them, accidentally leaving one behind.

Hours/days later, Toddler Miwa hear Donnie crying, barely alive and all alone. Obviously, dad and daughter care for him.

Shredder and Yoshi are still human, but neither is on guard for the other. They both think the other remains in Japan.

Their sons don’t grow up hating each other’s guts. They are both trying to leave their past behind. Yoshi is raising his family. Shredder is growing his empire.

So Donnie didn’t grow up knowing he had other brothers because no one knew they existed. Ergo, I imagine Donnie would be confused at first, but after fifteen years thinking that he’s alone in the universe, he’s eager to learn everything about these three fellow turtle mutants in ninja gear. He’s a bit perturbed about the fact that they keep making excuses to keep him from leaving, but he’s not to concerned about it. He has brothers! How neat is that?

And since it’s a crack AU, it would be absolutely hilarious if Donnie seems like this naive, learned soul, who cannot social in the slightest- but the second that the need calls for it, he knows how to use several different type of weapons and can take all the brother down single-handedly. He had fifteen years of no brotherly distractions and a sister who takes training very seriously. Why wouldn’t he?

It’s why he’s not concerned with technically being held hostage. He’s reasonably certain that he can take them. And he proves it when Karai finds him and tries to take him home, only for the brothers attempt to stop him from leaving.

Of course, he always feels bad about his supremely awesome and instinctive skills. He prefers his studies.

No, but your “pry him out of her cold, dead hands” comment made me think that she’d need a reason to feel threatened. If they bond before she finds him, Donnie will begin looking at his older brothers (yes, even Mikey, who adores being able to feel in charge of someone) like, well, eldest brothers, and Karai will sense the change.

And, obvs, be completely and utterly ticked off by it.

Donnie’s spent his entire life admiring her and everything that she does- how DARE she have to share his attention with these three random strangers that literally kidnapped him?!

And his older brothers will all immediately decide that this lost child is theirs’ for one reason or another. And obviously, the safest thing to do when you find a stray mutant like you is to take it home and give it care. Heck, if it turns out to be your brother, even better!

HAPPY FIFTEENTH BIRTHDAY! YOU BELONG TO A GROUP OF NINJA TURTLES NOW, ADOPTED LIKE A LOST CAT! CONGRATS!

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shedoessoshedoes · 1 year ago

Text

So Close

Inspired entirely by the movie Enchanted and the 2015 adaptation of Cinderella, I give you *drumroll please* PINING ELRIEL DANCING (yayyyyyyy) hope you all enjoy, and let me know if you do 😘

wc: 1165

tw: none

“Thank you all for your presence here tonight,” Helion announces to the crowd. “It is my privilege to share the joy of my newfound family with you.” He glances over to Lucien and the former Lady of Autumn, now High Lady of Day. “Love truly comes from the strangest of places. In honor of our story, Andromeda and I invite you to dance this final waltz with a partner you did not come with tonight. Those we are bound to are not always those we are meant to be with. Seek out a different kind of love, whether that be a romance or a friendship, as we partake in the dance of the sun.”

Elain doesn’t know what to do with herself. She had come tonight with Lucien, as a favor to Rhys and Feyre (“Please, Elain,” Feyre had begged. “Just to show everyone that you’re trying.”) (Nevermind that Elain did not want to try with Lucien. Nevermind that perhaps Elain loved someone else.), and had spent most of the night on his arm. Helion’s speech had described her story a little too perfectly. She, too, was seen as belonging to a male she did not love. She, too, had found love outside of that binding. She, too, could not act on how she felt. She, too, had spent too much time wondering if perhaps the male she wanted to be hers felt the same way. But nevermind all of that, too. It wasn’t like she was in any position to ask Azriel to dance.

She watches as Rhys bows to Nesta, still in the process of paying his penance for all the years of judgment and hate. Cassian sweeps Feyre off her feet in a twirl, and she tosses her head back and laughs. It’s a typical scene: no one would think to wonder whether silly old Elain would have anyone to dance with. She melts slowly back against the wall, but then–there he is.

Looking every inch the dark, tortured soul he is, Azriel simply inclines his head to her. Elain’s breath catches in her throat. He is so beautiful. She loves him so much. They haven’t spoken since the Solstice. “A dance, Lady Elain?”

Elain can do nothing but nod silently and slip her hand into his as he leads her to the center of the room. Sparks shoot up her arm from where their bodies touch. They settle into position, and the dance begins.

—-

She looks stunning. In a cobalt blue gown, she might as well just declared herself as his, even if she stepped into the room on the arm of Lucien Vanserra. Azriel cannot breathe if he looks at her for too long. But the combination of the dress, and Helion’s speech, and six months of agony have Azriel losing control of himself. Besides, he couldn’t leave her standing alone during the last dance of the ball, could he? He can explain it away to Rhys, can claim that he asked her to dance with the intentions of a brother. Though his thoughts about her are anything but fraternal.

This dance is simple. They both know it by heart. Azriel slides one hand around her waist, pulling her as close as the skirts of her dress will allow (which is not nearly close enough), and suddenly all the world is gone.

They sway back and forth, and then Elain’s wrist comes to rest against his, and fuck, but that one simple touch has him nearly undone. “Elain,” he breathes out, and she takes an unsteady breath. Perhaps, five hundred years of life have required Azriel’s more romantic dreams to die. Perhaps he said goodbye to them far too quickly, because every dream that he ever could have had is here, in front of him, wrapped up in the package that is Elain Archeron.

“They’re all looking at you,” she whispers. “You never dance.” This is true, mostly. The last time he danced was with Nesta in the Hewn City, and while that had been enjoyable, it hadn’t exactly been a choice. And it’s not like the Day Court citizens frequent Velaris’s Starfall celebrations where they could have seen him dance with his family.

“Believe me,” he murmurs back, just loud enough for her to hear. “They’re all looking at you.”

They twirl out for their first promenade, Elain’s hands resting on his arm, and he spins her around before pulling her back into a proper waltzing position–the closest they’ve been so far tonight. The closest they’ve been since Rhys’s godsdamn order. Elain’s heartbeat stutters, and Azriel wants to put his mouth on her pulse. Her entire neck and shoulders are visible in her gown, and it is entirely too distracting.

He twirls her out and around him, and she laughs, and he would crawl over glass to hear that sound again. When he pulls her back in, her back is to his front, his hand covering hers on her hip. She leans back into him just slightly, and its his breath catching this time. When she spins around to face him, he can almost believe that this isn’t pretend. Can almost believe that this stunning female is actually his. The circle they’re clearing for their dance is larger now, other couples stopping to watch them. Az catches sight of Nesta with a small knowing smile on her face.

This time, when he twirls her, he decides to show off, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her up off the ground. Elain’s smile is so bright it could replace the Day Court sun, and Azriel can see Rhys and Lucien glaring at him from two sides of the ballroom. He doesn’t care. He does it again, lifts her higher, and when Elain comes back down, her lips are far too close to his. He dips her to finish the dance, and the room erupts into applause. Elain looks around, startled, and blushes. Azriel pulls her back upright and whispers quickly into her ear. “I’ve never been so sorry for anything in my life. Let me explain it to you? Later tonight?” Then he’s pulling back before he can second-guess this massive risk he’s taking, and Elain gives him a tiny nod as Lucien returns to his mate’s side.

“Lovely dancing Elain, Shadowsinger,” he says, and Azriel can feel a fight brewing in his bones. So he does nothing but incline his head to Lucien, bow to Elain, and step away. He’s sure he’ll have a shitstorm coming his way from Rhys, but right now, he can’t find it in himself to care. He sends a shadow over to Elain and watches it whisper into her ear. Her eyes tell him she understands.

Later that night, he’s waiting, standing by the window of his room, wings folded in tight, a glass of whisky in his hand. The sound comes right when he thought that it would. Footsteps, and then a single knock. Elain. He takes a breath, whispers a prayer to the Mother. And goes to open the door.

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

Let me know what you think!! Comments/feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome. My ask box is open--let me know what you want to read next!

#elriel #azriel #elain archeron #cinderella #enchanted #so close #elriel fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #shadow bat and flower girl #acotar

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sequinsmile-x · 8 months ago

Text

Movie Night

Emily doesn't remember the last time they watched a film that wasn't their daughter's favourite, so Aaron hatches a plan.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is some nice family fluff for you all on this Friday evening <3 this all came from a conversation with @eobangingwhen, so I'm dedicating this to her.

I promise I will write something more than pure fluff very soon haha

Hope you all enjoy this, and as always let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: vague spoilers for Frozen and Star Wars VI I guess??

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

There were moments when she found it hard to believe this was her life.

It was strange to think that only six years ago she was in Paris, convinced she’d never feel safe again. That her penance for her actions which had led to a gravestone with her name carved into it was the loneliness she’d felt there. The fear she would have once believed would never fade a punishment from a God she wasn’t entirely sure she had ever believed in. She wished she could go back and talk to that version of herself, that she could assure her that life would get better than it ever had been before, that she’d end up with a family of her own.

The idea of it always made her smile, because she knew even if it was possible she’d never believe herself anyway, especially when she would reveal her husband was Aaron.

She’d had a crush on him for as long as she could remember, a flipping in her gut whenever he was near that had morphed into something more powerful as time went on. A feeling she knew was love the moment he was missing after Foyet had attacked him. Their timing had never been right, feelings she now knew he’d had for her growing at the same rate as hers that had to be ignored because of circumstance. For a long time, it felt like they’d never get a chance, so she’d convinced herself it would never happen. An attempt to protect herself from any more pain, sure that if she attempted something that wasn’t reciprocated would leave her with a brand on her heart more painful than the one Ian had left on her skin.

It made her grateful for this, made the difficult moments of parenthood and marriage easier to swallow when she reminded herself she could have missed out on him, on them. Her life a quilt made of ordinary moments, memories stitched together and laid over her like a comfort blanket that she relied on in her worst moments, when her monsters snuck out of the shadows and convinced her she would somehow lose all of this.

She smiles as her daughter presses herself in the small space between her and Aaron, the three-year-old insistent on being as close to them as possible at all times. Alice smiles at them both as she rests her head on Aaron’s arm, sinking into his embrace when he wraps his arm around her, his hand coming to rest on his wife’s thigh. He smiles at Emily and winks before he looks at their son, Elliot, curled up on his mother’s chest, his hand tangled in her hair as he tries to fight off sleep. The 18-month-old always wanted to be involved in everything, his focus always on his older siblings, and very often Emily and Aaron had to hoist him up into their arms, lifting him off his feet so he didn’t follow them to the roundabout at the local park and get too involved with the bigger kids rougher games.

“Mommy, can we watch Frozen?” Alice asks, her sweet voice drawing her attention to her and Emily has to suppress a sigh.

Alice loved Frozen. She wanted to watch it all the time, the movie one of the few things that would hold her focus. They’d watched it so often that Emily was sure she could recite it word for word, her disdain for Olaf the snowman enough that she’d planned his death in more than one way.

She never thought she’d loved Aaron more when she quietly admitted that to him one evening, shame dripping from every syllable as she told him just how much she hated their daughter’s favourite character, and his only response was to say he’d done the same thing.

“Sweetie,” Emily says, taking one hand off of Elliot’s back and tucking some of Alice’s hair behind her ear, “Maybe Jack wants to pick the movie for once.”

Alice pouts a little, and frowns at her, but any comment from the little girl is cut off by Jack from Emily’s other side.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he says, smiling at her when she turns to look at him, “I don’t mind if we watch it again.”

She reaches out and ruffles his hair, smiling when he dives out of the way, the pre-teen on the cusp of being constantly embarrassed by his parents.

“Are you sure honey?”

He nods, smiling as his little sister beams at him, and he shrugs as if it’s no big deal, “She loves it.”

Aaron squeezes Alice closer to him. He looks back and forth between Jack who was sitting at the other end of the couch and then at his watch. Jack was endlessly patient with his younger siblings. He loved being a big brother and always went with the flow, but he could see the flash of horror going through his son's eyes as he thinks about spending another evening watching the animated movie.

“How about we watch it now,” Aaron suggests, looking up at Jack, “And Jack can play his game whilst we do,” he smiles when his eldest smiles and nods, already walking over to the Nintendo Switch they’d bought him and turning it into handheld mode, “And then when you go to bed Mommy and I will watch something Jack wants to watch.”

Alice nods enthusiastically and Aaron grabs the remote, well aware the Frozen DVD would already be in the player, and he starts the movie. Alice is enraptured for the start, her eyes fixed on the screen as she sings along.

“I don’t remember the last time we watched a movie that wasn’t made for children,” Aaron eventually says quietly so only Emily can hear, Alice too lost in the movie, as if it was the first time she’d ever seen it, and Jack in his handheld video game to hear their parent’s quiet discussion.

She hums and raises her eyebrow at him, running her fingers through Elliot’s hair, the toddler now fast asleep against her, “I don’t remember the last time we watched a movie that wasn’t Frozen.”

He smiles at his wife and leans in to kiss her cheek, only to be immediately chastised by Alice, who turns to look at him, a glare Emily would say was all him on her face from where she’s sitting between them.

“Daddy - watch Frozen!”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Emily says, winking at him over Alice’s head, a promise for later hiding in the action that makes his stomach swoop, just as enamoured with his wife as he was on their first date. “Watch the movie.”

Time alone was rare these days, even rarer than it always had been and all of a sudden he found himself desperate to just spend time with his wife. To watch a movie that they picked and snuggle on the couch the same way they did when they were first dating and Jack had gone to bed.

He watches the movie but doesn’t pay any attention, his focus instead on planning a date night as soon as possible.

___

Emily sighs to herself as she shakes her head, unable to focus on the paperwork in front of her. It had been a rough night. Elliot had barely slept, his shift from two naps a day to one having an impact it hadn’t had with Alice. He’d been fussy all night, crying out for Mama even when Aaron went in to try to settle him. Eventually, he’d woken up Alice and she’d crawled into their bed and fell asleep in between them.

She blinks blearily, massaging her fingers into her temples as she desperately tries to pay attention to her work, and she smothers a yawn. She smiles tightly at Spencer as they catch each other's gaze over the divider between their desks and then she looks back at the paperwork, determined to get at least some done today.

“Emily, do you wanna-”

Later, she’d blame her exhaustion for how she replies to Specner, her brain automatically taking over her mouth because they’d yet again watched Frozen that morning, the movie on in the background to keep Alice and Elliot happy as she and Aaron desperately sucked down coffee and half-cold oatmeal.

“Honey, Mommy really doesn’t have the energy to build a snowman right now.”

Her eyes go wide as soon as she says it, her brain finally catching up with her surroundings and she groans when the moment of shocked silence is filled with laughter, Derek’s the loudest. She covers her eyes with her hands and curses under her breath.

“I think somebody should go get Mommy a cup of coffee,” Derek says, and she looks up and narrows her eyes at him, her glare doing nothing to stop his smirk.

“That’s actually what I was going to ask,” Spencer asks, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he stands up, “I’ll go get you one.”

“Alice still obsessed with Frozen, huh?” JJ asks, turning to look at them and Emily nods, groaning again as she thinks about it.

“It’s all she ever wants to watch. I never thought it was possible to hate an animated snowman as much as I do,” she narrows her eyes, “I’d melt the son of a bitch if I could.”

JJ chuckles sympathetically, “For Henry it was Cars,” she says, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, “I actually once dreamt that I cut Lightening McQueen’s break line.”

Emily laughs, any guilt she may have felt for disliking her daughter’s favourite movie as much as she did fading, “You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.”

Derek clears his throat, his smile getting wider as he gets her attention, and he leans back in his chair, his hands on the back of his head, “So, Mommy what are your and Hotch’s evening plans?”

She rolls her eyes and actively ignores the use of the moniker, “The usual.”

Spencer walks back over and places the coffee down on her desk, smiling at her before he returns to his own desk. The smell of it alone is enough to reinvigorate her and she picks it up and immediately takes a sip.

“Thanks, Spence,” she says, smiling gratefully at him, “I appreciate it.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “No problem.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, “We’ve got to be nice to our Momm-”

“Derek Morgan if you call me Mommy one more time I will make sure you never have kids of your own,” she says, cutting over him. She purposely holds her glare, suppressing her need to laugh, when his eyes go comically wide, clearly very aware that she’s serious.

“Why are you threatening Morgan, sweetheart?” Aaron asks, and she looks up, smiling softly when she sees him standing on the walkway, leaning on the railing above their desks.

She knows he’s tired too for two reasons. Firstly, because he used a nickname for her in the office, a tiny piece of their personal life slipping free, the sharp line between the two parts of their lives slowly getting blurrier. Secondly, he had an Elsa sticker on the lapel of his jacket.

It was something Alice frequently did. She would carefully select a sticker and place it diligently on his jacket, she did the same for Emily too, claiming it would protect them as they fought the bad guys. She knew that usually, Aaron would remove it the second he got to the office and shrugged off his coat. He would place it on a photo frame on his desk, the picture inside of it one of Emily and the kids, a collection of brightly coloured cartoon characters surrounding a photo of his family. A much needed contrast to the usual horror that crossed his desk in their case files, a reminder of all the good there was in the world.

She had a similar collection too, although she placed her stickers on the inside of one of her drawers, safe and protected from any unsub that might be brought through the bullpen, not wanting to give them any access to something they might consider a weakness.

She smiles at her husband and taps her own lapel, “Honey…”

He looks down and clears his throat, pulling the sticker off of his jacket with more tenderness than his hands should be capable of. A smile flashes across his face that she knows he can’t control, and he nods briefly at them all.

“I’d better go put this away,” he says as he turns and walks back into his office.

“You guys are so cute-”

She turns and looks sharply at her friend, “Derek, I swear to God.”

The rest of the day drags by, minutes feeling like hours as her exhaustion slowly returns. When it’s time to go home she immediately jumps up, smiling at her husband as he exits his office exactly on time. He takes her bag from her the moment he makes it to her side, ignoring her playful eye roll.

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?”

She hums, “God yes,” she says, checking her watch and hissing, knowing if they didn’t leave immediately they’d hit traffic. “We have to go get the kids.”

“Actually,” he says, waving goodbye to the team as they step out through the glass doors and towards the elevators, “Jess went to get them. And right now they will all be very excited to have a sleepover at hers.”

She smiles, narrowing her eyes at him as he reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together, “What are you up to Mr Hotchner?”

He winks at her and squeezes her hand again, a silent promise pressed into her skin, “That’s for me to know and you to find out Mrs Hotchner.”

___

He takes her home via their favourite pizza place, refusing to tell her anything else about his plans for the evening as they drive home.

It’s only once they’ve eaten, talking softly over slices of pizza, the house so much quieter than usual it makes her ache a little, that he tells her they are going to watch a movie together just the two of them. They call the kids and talk to them over FaceTime to say goodnight, and Emily can’t help but smile at the sight of all three of them squished together as they fight to get their faces in the frame, each of them desperate to see their parents despite their excitement to be at Jessica’s.

Once they are done speaking to the kids, she smiles widely at Aaron as he tells her to settle on the couch and that he’ll go get them some wine as he clears the pizza boxes, an instruction he signs off with a gentle kiss stamped against her lips. She chuckles when he brings in the wine. He’d served it in plastic Death Star shaped cups they’d got at DisneyWorld the year before. He waggles his brows at her as he hands her one and she laughs again, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips as he settles on the couch next to her.

“I don’t need many guesses to know what film we’re watching,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls back to take a sip of her wine, “You thought of everything.”

He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if the gentle way he loves her wasn’t the thing that kept her afloat, and he places his cup of wine down on the table, “I just thought it’s been a while since we did this just the two of us.”

She hums and nods, putting her wine down next to his before she snuggles into his side, sighing contently as his warmth immediately starts to leach into her. He reaches for the remote and starts the DVD player and she smiles when she sees the menu for A New Hope already on the screen, and she idly wonders when he got the chance to put the DVD in the player, a small part of her hopeful he’d somehow lost the Frozen one in the process.

“Are you sure you want to watch Star Wars, honey?” She asks, tilting her head to look up at him. She rakes her fingers through his hair, love for him threatening to burst out of her chest, “We could watch something more grown up, who knows when we’ll next have the chance?”

“It’s your favourite movie, Em,” he says simply, stamping his lips against her forehead as he presses play, “I wouldn’t want to watch anything else.”

She shakes her head at him and kisses him, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place as she sighs into his mouth. When she pulls back she rubs her nose briefly against his, unable to stop her smile even if she wanted to, “I love you.”

“I know,” he replies, his voice deadpan and she playfully glares at him. He laughs and leans in to kiss her again, “I love you too,” he says, kissing her once more before the scrolling text appears on the screen, “Now pay attention.”

She chuckles and rests her head on his shoulder, content and relaxed as she snuggles further into him as he lays a blanket over their laps. She wraps both of her arms around one of his and hugs it, safe and happier than she ever thought possible as she sits next to her husband. Snuggled up on their couch in their home, watching a movie she probably knew by heart. It was achingly ordinary, and she would never stop being grateful that this was her life.

He notices she’s quieter than she usually is when they watch this. She’d normally whisper lines half a second before the characters said them or tell him a fact about the behind the scenes, not embarrassed about her self-declared nerdiness around him, but she’s silent. He looks down and chuckles to himself when he sees her eyes drifting closed and he kisses her forehead, shifting her gently so her head is resting on a cushion in his lap. He runs his fingers through her hair, scratching gently at her scalp as he does so, and she hums contentedly.

She’s asleep before Princess Leia is captured.

-x-

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melanieathene · 8 months ago

Text

Mr. Wonderful

This is a love story.

I'd like to say it was a classic case of love at first sight, but I don't know if that's true.

All I know for certain is that it's a love that was meant to be.

We don't get many quality folk in this dump that calls itself a diner. Truckers who haven't seen a washcloth in days – weeks maybe. Bums who stumble in to get out of the cold, taking up table space long after they've drained the last drop of coffee in their cup. Old folks on a tight budget looking for a cheap meal. Cheaters looking to score, streetwalkers looking to oblige them. Impatient, forlorn, pitiful people. Losers, every one.

He stood out like a sunbeam slicing through a cloudy sky. Clean, well-dressed, and handsome – god, he took my breath away with his movie star good looks. He was way prettier than the models you see in those fancy magazines – the ones I leaf through in the grocery line, but can never afford to buy.

“I'm gonna to marry that man,” I murmured.

Rhonda snapped her gum as she turned her head to follow my gaze. “Him?” She snorted. “Honey, he's out of your league. Married. Or gay. My money is on gay. Look at the long-haired fella he's with. There's something going on between them.”

“I don't care. I want that table. I'll trade you for the party of six.” I hitched my thumb towards table three.

The cackling old biddies sitting there were fussy, but they were surprisingly good tippers. Regulars who liked to meet up after church, or their book club, or whatever. Normally, Rhonda and I butted heads over who got to serve 'em.

“Your loss.” Rhonda shrugged and sauntered away. I saw the good-looking guy shoot a glance at her ample bosom as she walked by.

Gay, my ass.

I popped a couple of buttons on my blouse, the better to display my cleavage. If he liked boobs, mine were an even bigger eyeful than Rhonda's. The rest of the package wasn't bad either.

The green eyes that turned my way as I approached the back-corner booth set me in mind of an emerald I once saw in a store window. Dazzling. No other word for it.

“What can I offer you, gentlemen?” I asked in as sultry a voice as I could muster.

“Well, I don't know,” Mr. Wonderful drawled – and damned if he didn't sound just as good as he looked. “What do you have to offer?” The suggestive smile that accompanied the question set my pulse racing and my cheeks ablaze.

“Dean!” the tall one barked.

Oh-oh. I quickly suppressed a sigh. Jealous boyfriend alert. Abort! Abort!

But it would appear luck was on my side, because the next words out of his mouth were:

“You'll have to excuse my brother. He... He's...” Mr. Tall flung up his hands, as if giving up on trying to explain the unexplainable.

His (hallelujah!) brother grinned unrepentantly.

“I'll have a salad – the house dressing is fine,” Mr. Tall continued, obviously deeming it better for all concerned if he changed the subject. “He'll have the double cheeseburger with fries. And, uh... two coffees, please. Make mine decaf.”

“And pie,” Dean added. His eyes caressed my name tag, before straying over to the curve of my breast. “Apple if you've got it, Sherri with an 'i'. With whipped cream –”

“And a cherry on top?”

“Ahh, a woman after my own heart. Thank you, darlin'.”

I could feel the weight of his stare as I walked away. Who could blame me if I put a little extra wiggle in my walk?

“Not gay,” I whispered as Rhonda and I crossed paths. “With his brother. And he's a first class flirt.”

“Hrmph,” she muttered. “That don't mean nothing. I might bump him from gay to bi, but that's the best I can do for you. My gaydar's never wrong.”

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Rhonda? She's my best friend and I love her to bits, but she can be an insufferable pain in the ass when she thinks she's right. Which is all the time.

I wasn't going to let her be right this time. Mr. Wonderful – Dean! – was the kind of man I'd been dreaming of for far too many years. I was through with settling for Cracker Jack toys! I wanted a real prize. And there he was... not ten feet away.

A glance over my shoulder at the booth showed Dean frowning as Mr. Tall shoved his laptop towards him. They both seemed pretty engrossed by whatever was on that screen. Real serious, like. So it would appear that I had a little competition after all. Digital competition. Pfftt! I wasn't worried about that. With my looks and bubbly personality, most men easily sway the way I want them to go. I fluffed my hair and unfastened yet another button. Hey, when you're going for the gold, you gotta give it all you've got.

I picked up the tray containing their order and called up my best smile. The megawatt one that best shows off my dimples and pearly whites.

That smile dimmed considerably as I turned to face them.

There was a third person in the booth. Another man. Another looker, with dark, wind-swept hair and heavy five o'clock shadow on his chiseled jaw. Dean had scooched over to make room for Mr. Trench Coat, but they were sitting close. Really close. In fact, they were pressed together from shoulder to hip to knee.

Dean caught my eye as I approached and hissed, “Personal space!”

“My apologies,” Mr. Trench Coat replied in a low rumble that rivalled Dean's for the honour of sexiest voice ever. Though why he was apologizing wasn't clear to me. Dean was the one who hadn't moved over far enough in the first place. The bigger question was where he had come from, though. I hadn't heard the bell ring to announce his arrival. It was a mystery that didn't sit well with me.

“Would you like to place an order, sir?” I said, polite and frosty in the same breath, as I set plates in front of the two brothers.

“No.”

No, thank you. Lovely manners you have, there.

Blue eyes lifted to meet my gaze, staring at me – through me – as if they could see into my very soul.

“No, thank you,” he intoned.

And just like that, I was dismissed. I mattered less to him than the cockroaches in the kitchen.

His eyes turned back to Dean. Dean's gaze fell to his plate. Mr. Tall choked back what could have been a chuckle – or maybe he just swallowed funny.

I beat a hasty retreat. But I wasn't done with table nine yet. Dean was clearly a dessert man. And I had pie as my secret weapon. Homemade pie, too. None of that pasty store-bought stuff most dives like ours serve. I baked it myself twice a week to squeeze a few extra bucks from our skinflint boss, and I wasn't beyond letting that little fact slip when I brought a slice over to Dean. So, take that, Blue Eyes.

Confidence restored, I felt almost generous towards the poor guy. I even brought him a glass of ice water – which he didn't touch. Nor did he thank me for it.

It was a fairly busy night, but I kept glancing over to that corner as I hurried about my tasks. Dean had once again inched closer to Blue Eyes – or maybe Blue Eyes was crowding him? Either way, their knees and elbows were knocking. Mr. Tall noticed this too. Judging from the knowing little smirk he wore, it wasn't the first time he'd seen it happen. But even his eyebrows rose when Blue Eyes casually swiped a fry from Dean's plate, and Dean didn't so much as blink. He'd slapped Mr. Tall's hand when he'd tried that trick not five minutes before, hard, growling something along the lines of, “if you insist on eating rabbit food, don't expect me to share the good stuff.”

Blue Eyes dove in for another fry. And then a third. And then he snagged Dean's coffee and took a tentative sip.

Apparently, that wasn't much to his liking. I had to turn away from the sourpuss face he pulled, just so I didn't laugh out loud. When I turned back, Dean was doctoring his coffee – pouring in creamer and adding tons of sugar – all without taking his eyes off the computer screen or his mind off his ongoing conversation with Mr. Tall. He removed the stir stick from the mug and licked it. Blue Eyes took advantage of his distracted state to grab the coffee and cautiously sample the results. He smiled and took a second, deeper drink. And a fourth fry.

It was with considerably less enthusiasm than I had originally planned that I delivered the pie and declared it was made by yours truly.

Oh, I hovered in the vicinity, ready and eager to reap the rewards of my labour, but I had a sinking feeling that Rhonda – once again – was going to be proven right.

Sure enough, I wasn't the one Dean sought out after the first bite. The look of bliss that crossed his face was all I'd wished for – and more – but it was Blue Eyes he turned to. Blue Eyes on the receiving end of an ecstatic smile. Blue Eyes who obligingly opened his mouth when so prompted, and thus received the second forkful of my pie.

What Blue Eyes thought of it, I'll never know. For at that very moment, the bell that had been faithfully announcing arrivals and departures (except for Blue Eyes', of course) blasted from its place above the door, followed by the door itself. Shattered glass flew in all directions, and the metal frame embedded itself in table five. I heard Rhonda scream, saw her limping for the kitchen with blood seeping from a gash on her left leg. Customers who jumped up, preparing to follow her example and flee, were trampled as a horde of people poured into the diner – fifteen – twenty – maybe more. They looked like a biker gang, all dressed in black leather with dangling chains, all tattoos and piercings and unkempt beards. We've had a lot of bikers pass through. Most of 'em never cause a spot of trouble, though a couple of times we've had rival gangs rumbling in our parking lot. But I'd never, ever before seen black eyes like this lot had. Black. So very black. Like the gates of hell must be...

I'm a little hazy on what happened next. There was a lot of hollering and pushing and crashing. Things flew through the air – tables, chairs, even people.

I slipped in a puddle of what I sincerely hoped was ketchup, and felt myself falling... but, somehow, Dean was there to catch me. He scooped me up in his arms like the hero in one of those stupid romance novels Rhonda likes to read. He carried me through the mêlée, shoved me into the restroom, and told me to lock the door and keep it locked.

He didn't have to tell me twice. I didn't have to see any more to know that whatever was happening out there, it was bad. Really bad.

I just prayed the bathroom door was strong enough to keep it from happening to me.

If there had been a window, I would have climbed out of it and run away.

But there wasn't a window. And I would never have known the end of the story if I had skipped out at the middle.

Two clear voices rang out, rising above the continuous chorus of furious shouts and frantic cries. A sudden wash of light crept under the door, almost blinding me with its intensity. The silence that followed was almost worse than the horrible noise that preceded it.

I'm not ashamed to admit I screamed like a little girl when a quiet knock sounded on the door. I was bawling like one too, I was that scared: snot and mascara smearing my face, breath hitching and heart hammering fit to burst.

“Sherri? Sherri, it's Sam. It's over. It's okay to come out.”

“I don't know you, Sam.” I sniffled and drew closer to the door, but I wasn't about to open it. “Why should I trust you?”

“I'm Dean's brother.”

“Where's Dean?”

“He was injured in the attack. Cas is... uh... patching him up. Don't worry, Dean's in good hands.”

“Is Cas a doctor?”

“No... not exactly. He's... It's hard to explain. Sherri, will you open the door? We have to get you out of here.”

“Dean told me to stay put.”

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” I heard Sam mutter. And then, louder, “Cas! Can you help Dean over here? I need him to convince Sherri that it's safe.”

Slow, shuffling footsteps made their way across the floor. It felt like an eternity before the voice I wanted to hear finally spoke my name.

“Sherri,” he said wearily. “It's Dean. Open the door.”

Blue Eyes was standing there scowling at me when I cracked the door open. His arm was snugly draped around Dean's waist, clearly supporting most of his weight. Dean's arm was slung around Blue Eyes' shoulders, further steading himself. I suppose I should have felt guilty for making Dean come to me in his condition, but I didn't. I flung myself against his chest and hugged him tight. But not too tight, and not for as long as I really wanted to hold him. His quick gasp let me know how much his ribs were hurting him.

“Thank you,” I said, reluctantly stepping back. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“It's what we do. Besides, how could I deprive the world of a five star pie maker like you?” The cocky grin was back and (damn!) it looked good on his face. Even bruised and bleeding, he was one fine looking man.

Blue Eyes' fingers twitched, knotting into the fabric of Dean's shirt. His little finger brushed against bare flesh where the shirt had rucked up. Dean shivered and turned a questioning gaze his way. “Sam will take you home,” he said absentmindedly, as if he'd already forgotten I was still standing there. It was obvious he was trying real hard to fit a puzzle together, as if he'd just found a missing piece and the picture was finally making sense.

Sam ushered me away, his giant hand hovering near my face, ready to shield me from the worst of the carnage, or so I believed at that moment. We were almost to the door when a thought struck me.

“Rhonda!” I exclaimed, suddenly stopping dead in my tracks. “She went into the kitchen. She was hurt.”

“Wait here.” Sam righted a toppled chair and gently but firmly insisted I sit down. I bit my lip as I looked around. Carnage? Where was the carnage? There should have been bodies. Lots of bodies. But there were none, just a strange, dark ash that coated every surface. As if the people had been burned away.

I remembered the blazing light.

Just before it flared, I remembered a voice calling, “Dean! Dean!” Desperation filled the cry. The anguish of a man about to lose all that he held dear. The voice of a blue-eyed man who liked his coffee overly sweet.

And I remembered Dean's voice crying out in reply. One single word: “Cas!” As if the name carried with it a thousand conversations they'd never had – should have had – might now have.

The kitchen door swung on its rusty hinges, and Sam came towards me carrying Rhonda as if she weighed no more than a kitten. She was unconscious, but alive. I felt my heart blossom in relief as I rose from the chair and rested a hand on her arm. Sam led us out the door. Out to the blessed smell of fresh air, where a hint of rain lingered like a promise on the breeze.

I don't know why I turned around for one final look at Mr. Wonderful.

He didn't look back at me.

He and Blue Eyes were too busy staring into each other's eyes.

Slowly, Dean leaned forward. Just as slowly, Blue Eyes tilted his head and leaned in to meet him halfway.

All love stories should end with such a tender, yearning kiss.

And, like I said at the beginning, this is a love story.

It just isn't mine.

Originally posted 2015-03-03. Just thought it might be fun to post some old stories here. :)

#supernatural #spn #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #original character #destiel fanfic

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