#And then not 10 seconds later as we walked toward the gas station door some guy exiting held open the door for us & said oh after you sir | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingsbychlo · 3 years

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smoke and fire (10)

word count; 16,174

summary; a suspicious call has disastrous consequences.

notes; it’s time. the death, and you aren’t ready for it. grab your tissues.

warnings; major character death, panic attacks, breakdowns, arson, gore, blood triggers, explosions, significant descriptions of injury, vomiting.

“You sure the call was here?”

You twisted to look at Minho, and he scowled at you for the insinuation. “I followed the directions!”

“Well, I don’t see a fire.”

“Oh, well, thank you, Captain Obvious!” He scoffed, and a few chuckles ran out over the group as you beamed at him. “How come nobody ever gets at Fry for his driving?”

“Because he knows how to drive.” You snipped back, and an arm slung over your shoulders, a new medkit pressed into your arms by your partner, and you scowled down at the bag.

It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with it, per se.

In fact, it was a pretty nice bag, all things considered. A nice shade of navy blue to match the smart uniforms the firefighters wore on formal occasions, with padded straps to ease the stress on your shoulders and no loose threads or faded patches. It was brand new, and it was even personalised with a nice stitching of white numbers to form ‘21 to show off the house you were proudly a part of, but it felt wrong.

It just wasn’t your lucky charm.

“Oh, stop pouting over the bag, will ya’?” Newt sighed, and you only huffed, swinging it up onto your shoulder, and tucking your hand into the fleeced pocket of the coat you’d bought. Since deciding you wanted to remain at this house indefinitely, you had treated yourself to a further wardrobe of firehouse ‘21 kit. Two more embroidered shirts, your new bag, this warm fleece jacket and even one of the firemen’s tees, the largest size you could get for comfort in wearing at home. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s not my bag!”

“Yeah, well, your bag is probably halfway to Australia or being picked apart by crabs, by now.” Your bottom lip stuck out a little at the idea, despite how entertaining the mental image of crabs playing doctor was. It made your lips flicker up in a brief smile, at least.

The rest of the firefighters were still standing around, staring up at the building with confusion, and you couldn't deny that you were in much the same state. There had been an emergency call, bringing you all out to the industrial estate on the edge of the city where you found yourselves now, and yet there was no emergency to be seen. Something about it felt wrong, something wasn’t right, you had a slightly nauseous feeling creeping in your gut but you didn’t know what was causing it, as nothing dangerous was looming over you all.

“The siren definitely said ‘emergency’, right?”

“Yep.” Thomas hummed, coming to stand beside his best friend, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat against the cool weather too, and his eyes found your own, lips forming a smile to greet you with.

“You know, maybe it’s like the call with Aaron?” A few of the other’s turned to face you at your suggestion, and you played with a pebble under the toe of your shoes. “This seems like the dumb place kids play at to rebel. Abandoned factories are great places for no good. Maybe there’s someone inside?”

Silence hung over it all for a second, and Gally was the first to break it, a groan falling from his lips. “I bet it’s a prank call.”

“We’re required to check it out anyway.” Brenda was ready to go, she’d been full of energy since the very beginning of the day, and you had a feeling that it had something to do with the suspiciously close arrival times between her and Minho. If you had counted right, it had been exactly five minutes apart, and the thought of Brenda telling Minho he had to wait five minutes before following her made you laugh. Neither had noticed you taking early stock on the ambulance this morning as they all but skipped into the station. You planned to confront her about it later. “Let’s get going!”

“Alright, eager. Something got you all hyped up?”

She turned to look at you, eyes narrowing for a second, and Newt gasped a little beside you as he realised there was some kind of gossip he had yet to be let in on, but didn’t bring it up, simply squeezing you a little tighter. “Alright, well, I don’t trust it. I want everyone in full gear, just in case.”

“Oh, God, I hate those damn helmets. So clunky and clumsy, I hate it.” Newt was complaining once again, his arm dropping away from around you to wander away towards a firetruck to gain a jacket and a helmet to match the rest as he followed the directions given by his friends, and he team around you all pulled on their helmets, masks hooked onto their hips in case they were needed.

“C’mon, let's get you all geared up. Think you can manage to keep it all on, for once?”

“What do you mean ‘for once’, Thomas? One time I took off a rope, one time!” He only beamed at your attitude, opening up the back of the Squad truck to begin getting out the spare equipment for both you and Newt. He simply shrugged, and Newt made a show of dropping down to sit on the concrete as he kicked off his sneakers, taking a pair of slightly scuffed boots, his own pair that was stored in the firetruck, and your own were much shinier, still waiting to be broken in like his were.

Dropping your bag down onto the lip of the van, you were more than happy to abandon the piece of material, despising it already, as the feeling in your stomach continued to make you dread everything about this unusual case. You took off your shoes to copy, and took the pair of oversized and heat-proof pants from Thomas, tugging them up over your uniform to cover your legs, and fastening them tightly around your waist.

“I already feel like I’m overheating.”

Newt only hummed from his seat on the floor, and Thomas dropped a jacket down beside his friend, the garment left abandoned. “Well, y’know, could take off your pants.”

Your eyes narrowed on Thomas as you pushed each foot into a boot, toes wiggling as you navigated your feet into the shoes, a hand braced on the side of the firetruck or balance, and he smirked at you as he held onto your jacket and waited. “Yeah, I bet you’d just love that.”

“He’s still waiting for his turn to see the cute panties.” Newt chimed in, and you leaned down, flicking him against his ear as you crouched to do up your laces, and he let out a loud shout of complaint and he wiggled a little on the floor to pull his fireproof pants up over his hips in a less than graceful manner.

“Yeah, well, he’s going to be waiting a while.”

“Don’t go breakin’ my heart like that, sweetheart.” He hummed, pouting a little as you moved to tie the other laces, glaring up at him as he continued to smirk, and Newt gagged dramatically at the interactions. You glared at him, too, your cheeks flushing with warmth, and you turned your back on the two of them, arms lifting to push backwards into the jacket Thomas was holding for you, before swiping up your bag and swinging it over your shoulder.

“I hope there’s a hole in that building, and I hope you both fall in it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Tommy here is already falling f- you dick! What in the hell was that for?” Newt’s words were cut off, a red-faced Lieutenant glaring at his best friend, your partner rubbing the back of his friend and glaring right back, and you didn’t pay either of them any attention, instead choosing to wander away.

As you walked, you fastened up the front of your jacket, making sure that it was sealed up tightly to lock out the chill, and Gally was taking the first team in. The Truck team were lined up at the main entrance, a pair of bolt cutters in hand as the chains were snapped on the front entrance, all pausing. The sound of breaking glass followed, the whole team ducking down securely as they waited for a reaction to come from the broken glass. An explosion, a wisp of smoke, a smell of gas or a sudden backdraft, but nothing came.

It was all far too unusual.

“Do you smell that?” Winston voiced, face screwing up a little as he stood, leaning towards the window, and you raised a hand to cover your eyes against the glaring winter sun, despite the chill in the air, the rays were still bright enough to burn your retinas. “Smells kinda’ like a gas station.”

“You think there’s petrol in there?”

“Could be. I’m not seeing any smoke, but it's dark, and the smell is faint. These buildings normally have basements.” He shrugged, and you tucked your hands into your pockets.

“These kinda’ buildings normally become makeshift homeless shelters. They burn fuel for heat, maybe it’s just a smell that's lingering. It’s been pretty cold out, lately, we might just have some squatters being called in by a landowner.” A helmet was placed onto your head, falling down into your eyes from the impact, and when you lifted it up, Thomas was walking away from you, adjusting his helmet and preparing to take command of his crew.

“Well, no matter what it is, we can get in and get out after doing a quick check.”

He took a place beside Gally, the two sharing a glance, before the taller one was taking control, kicking roughly at the large double doors until they creaked under the pressure, swinging open roughly and echoing around the inside of the first room, the sound bouncing from stone and metalwork until it finally died out. Various torches flickered on around you as each member of the team activated the device on their shoulder, and Newt stood before you, a frown on his lips.

“This feels weird to you, right?”

“Really weird.” You mumbled back, keeping your voice low as not to disturb the members of the team who were each pairing off to enter, Thomas and Gally directing them at the doorways as they disappeared into the darkened old factory leaving you and Newt to follow slowly. You knew that neither of you was supposed to wander off too far, you would be told to stay in the main room, near the doorway, and to simply wait until you were needed. Teams spread out, pairs disappearing through the corridors, some up the stairs to the next level, and some lower to the basement, tracing the building for any source of evidence to support why you’d been called here.

There was a pause for a while, a long gap of silence, and you could hear the team shuffling about, before Newt was nudging you with his elbow, keeping his gaze forward and biting back a grin as he tried to keep a ‘professional’ expression on, but he leaned towards you to whisper his request; “You wanna’ have a thumb war while we wait?”

“Absolutely I do.” You grinned, turning to face him as he gasped excitedly, his one body facing your own. The radio on your shoulder crackled, Gally’s voice coming through it as he reminded the teams to update on what they had found, and so far, a collection of ‘nothings’ were coming back. Holding your hand out, Newt’s fingers wrapped around your own in the opposite direction, locking the two of you together, and you folded your other hand behind your back as he followed suit. Your thumb tapped against your hand and his, ducking together as you counted down in a small chant together, before the battle was commencing.

He grinned as his digit moved, wrapping around yours and trying to pin it down, but you were quick to retract it, and the smile was just as quick to fall from his face. Simple huffs in angry exhales and quiet laughter was shared between you both as you waited for any updates, the longer the time making it seem more and more like you were in the clear, as no signs of danger showed up.

“Upstairs is totally clear.” Thomas sighed through his radio, and you cheered loudly as you captured Newt's thumb, pressing it down while he cursed, and beginning to count to three. He didn’t let you get that far, however, before he was snatching his thumb back at the final moment, and you booed him, his lips flicking up cheekily.

“Told you, it’s a prank call!” Gally mumbled, Chuck radioing in to confirm his room was clear, as did Minho, who was checking carefully over all of the power outlets, but while seeming a little battered and busted up, some loose fires and broken sockets, nothing seemed at risk.

“We’ve got something down here.. I think..”

“What do you mean you think, Winston?” You paused, the two of you agreeing to call it a tie as a lead was beginning to rise up, and you focused your attention on your radio, trying to make out the words through the interference.

“I mean, it’s damn dark down here, and the smoke torches don’t give us much. I’ll need a whole flashlight, but from what I can make out, there’s a fair load of petrol canisters down here. Some tipped over, spilt oil, but no fire.” You could hear him clattering about, the metal sound of a boot kicking lightly against the side of one metal container ringing through clearly.

“Can you count how many?”

“Not without the flashlights.” He replied, and various chatter about it began coming over the speakers as the two lurked on the edge of the barrels, Fry adding that the two couldn't even see the end of the room.

“I think I can get power up and running. These circuits aren’t too busted up, I just need to flip a few breakers, hold on..” There was a grunt, chatter between Minho and Zart as they moved around the room. It took a few minutes, that same anxious period of waiting looming over you all once again, and you let out a low breath, the twisting feeling in your gut was still there, and you hated it. Resting a hand over your stomach, you took a deep breath, trying to ease the racing of your heart. “Alright, everyone get out from under any lights, the power surge might smash some of the bulbs, don’t stand under where glass may spray.”

You and Newt both looked up, a row of lighting above your heads, and your steps were almost synchronised as you took a few steps backwards from the centre of the room, making sure you were covered from a blast of glass if one came. You shared a nod with your partner, before lifting a hand to the radio you wore, and clicking the button on. “Alright, we’re all good.”

“Everyone on top is clear.”

“Me and Chuck are good.”

“Nothing over our heads, you’re good to go, Minho.”

The collection of affirmations was answered by the flickering of lights overhead. The bulbs were yellow and musty, and you jumped a little at the shattering of glass across the room, shards raining down to create a tinkling noise as it bounced across the concrete, and the bulbs all slowly flickered.

“Oh, shit, Minho! Turn it off!” Your stomach dropped, a slightly patchy transmission through the radio, and your breathing hitched in your throat. “We’ve got broken wires down here, sparks coming through th-”

It all happened within the blink of an eye. One moment you’d been staring ahead at the staircase and waiting for news, before everything had been a blur. Your feet on the floor, your body flying through the air before you were slamming roughly into the concrete factor walls, and it felt like everything in your body became bruised at once. Your shoulder was crushed underneath you painfully as you hit the floor, a throbbing on the back of your head now matched by the side as you collide with the wall, the helmet on your head being the only thing that had stopped your skull from cracking at the impact, and it fell free, rolling away across the floor as you gasped for breath.

For a moment, there was nothing, you felt numb while you tried to focus on what just happened, eyes squeezed shut as your head spun and you choked back bile, and then there was the pain. A screaming kind of agony racing through every nerve in your body, and you couldn't hear your own groan in pain as your ears rang loudly. Like a siren but inside of your head, and the throbbing behind your eyes only seemed to increase as you pried them open.

Clouds of dust waiting to settle that you could barely see through, but the darkness that had once resided was replaced with a bright orange glow, half of the flooring from the centre of the room having crumbled entirely from the blast below you, flames and smoke licking up into the air and beginning to fill the room. You struggled, to even push yourself up to sitting, and you stretched your jaw, shaking your head clear to try and combat the ringing within your ears, before fumbling for the torch on your shoulder, and turning it on.

It didn’t do much, it didn’t help you see through the dust, but you blinked, clearing your vision enough to watch another dulled torch flicker on a few metres away from you, and you arched your back, your bag still there but your bones and muscles aching from being slammed into it against the concrete, feeling the imprint of the equipment under your skin. The walkie-talkie on your shoulder was going but you couldn't focus on that now, stumbling to your feet and tripping on nothing as you tried to step forwards, once hand pressed to cool concrete as you steadied yourself, and tried to make your way toward Newt.

He met you halfway, the sweat on his face matted with grey ash and dust, his eyes wide, a little frantic, and he licked over dry lips, which seemed to do nothing, as they were in much the same state only a second later as the once cold room was rapidly beginning to heat.

“Are you okay?” You had to shout just to hear yourself speak, and he squinted at you, seeming to struggle to hear himself, making you repeat the words, reading your words. He nodded, hand coming up to sit on your shoulders as his gaze scanned over you, and you did the same to him, silently checking one another for injuries.

The ringing was dying down a little bit, you could hear the flames now, and the sound of sliding and grating stone and metalwork as the unstable floor continued to break away in some places. “We should split up.”

“I’ll take upstairs if you take this floor?”

You glanced at the stairs, looking around the room, and assessing the gaps of concrete that looked as though they were still stable. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“You good?” He slipped a hand back up to your cheek, turning your gaze back to him, and making sure you were picking up the determination in his voice.

“I’m good, I swear.” He shook himself off a little, flexing his leg at the knee while holding onto you, all the way down until he was rotating his ankle a little, but you didn’t get a chance to question whether he was truly okay, before he was disappearing from your sights and brushing past you, a final squeeze of your shoulder in confirmation, before the smoke was swallowing up his figure and he was simply a disappearing flashlight that faded with every step.

There was a good amount of concrete left around the left side of the building, furthest away from where the basement with Fry and Winston must have been, and you paced back the way you came, making sure to scoop up your helmet as you went, and place it onto the top of your head, adjusting it carefully to keep your protection against the situation.

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, the crunch of broken pieces of stone and dust under your feet, navigating your way through the smoke with a hand pressed to the all, avoiding the flames that were growing higher and higher in the centre of the room, just to find the corridors you’d watched your friends disappear down less than a half-hour before.

Finding your way, you were grateful to see that the passageway was intact, dark and filling with a layer of crawling black clouds along the ceiling but no damage that would impede your way, and there were several doors open. You took off in a jog, scanning the insides of each room, and coming to a skidding halt as you caught sight of the first of your team members behind a third door.

Minho was lay out across the floor, and Zart was kneeling by his side, the look passing over his face could only be described as the kind of relief that gives you epic highs as the stress died down, and you took a place on the other side of him, kneeling to check on the unconscious one of the pair.

There were darkened veins along his arm, and the skin under his glove was a little raw as you peeled it back to check over, the burns travelling all the way up to his wrist, The smell of burning flesh made your nose wrinkle, and you dropped your bag from your shoulders. Tucking your bag underneath his feet to elevate them, you pressed down over the artery in his neck, monitoring the speed at which his heart was still pumping. It was slower than you would’ve liked, but strong, and you could at least let out a little sigh of relief at that.

The muscles under his skin were twitching and spasms, the aftershocks of the current still tingling over his nerves no doubt, and you lifted one eyelid at a time to check him. There were no burst veins in his eyes, and his pupil reaction time suggested that he hadn't gained any permanent brain damage from it. There was a cut across the back of his head from colliding with the concrete after losing his helmet, but it wasn't too deep of a gash, and it was something that could be focused on after he woke up, because the dust was currently helping to clot the wound.

The radio on your shoulder clicked into life, and Newt was on the other end of it; “How you doin’ down there?”

Pulling back, you spared one hand to press the button to allow your reply, as the other tucked your torch away carefully. “Uh, I got Minho here. He’s out cold, got a gash on the back of his skull but nothing permanent, he’ll just have a bad headache and some aches when he wakes up, some burns on his hand to take care of. Might need a new glove, this one is a little charred.” You picked it up, examining the half-melted plastic fingertips, undoubtedly a power surge racing back through the system as it sparked against the petrol in his rush to shut it down. “How’s everyone up there?”

“Tommy and Brenda are okay. Gonna’ be a little sore, some minor injuries, a few cuts and scrapes, nothing terrible.”

“Tell that to the pain in my ribs.” Brenda coffee through the radio, a few slow chuckles following it, and the doorway beside you was filled as a shocked and ash-stained Chuck and Jeff filled the doorway.

“She’s fine, just dramatic.” You could practically hear Newt’s eyes rolling over the waves, and you motioned them a little further inside. Zart seemed okay, he was checked over, you flashed the torch over his eyes and asked him where his pain was, but much like you and newt, he’d had the luck of being stood away from anything else, just a headache from the blast and a sore through from the smoke, but he was quickly hooking up his mask to replace the ashy air with pure oxygen, and he assisted you in doing the same for Minho.

“I got Gally and Clint here, too. Gal’s okay, just complaining like Brenda, but Clint’s got a pretty bad cut on his face, I’m going to clean this one up now.”

“Okay, I’ve got Chuck and Jeff too, but the smoke is getting pretty thick down here already, so I’m going to head straight to Fry and Winston downstairs.” As if to punctuate your words, you heaved a loud cough, the burning dryness in the air scorching the inside of your throat, and you swallowed thickly to try and choke it away.

“No, don’t go downstairs. You don’t have a mask. How are Chuck and Jeff? Send them down.”

“We’re totally fine!” Your candidate all but chirped the words, and you glanced up at him, eyes narrowing a little as he spoke up, as though to convince you to convince Thomas to send them down to find their friends.

“No, I should be the one to go, I don’t know what state they're going to be in.”

“We’re okay. Well, we’re not, but we can make it to you.” A raspy voice came through, broken with a little more interference as the signal cut through snow and rock from the lower floors, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest as Fry’s voice came over the speakers. Everyone seemed equally as excited and relieved to hear from him, the tall man chuckling as his friends all hollered in response to his voice. “Winston is out, he’s got some bad burns, I put him out but he was standing in front of me, he pretty much took the whole hit. I can get him up to you, but I’ll need help.”

You finished up with Jeff, your hands leaving his body as you finished pressing over his torso for any cracked ribs or tensed muscles, any signs you could pick up now of anything that might be wrong. “Jeff, go help him. Zart too.”

The men nodded, and Chuck was all but bouncing in his boots before you as he stared. “I’m fine, I swear.”

“Bullshit. Chuck got thrown into a piece of machinery, looked pretty bad from where I was standing, his feet weren’t even on the floor for the blast.” You frowned at your friend, the official firefighter shrugging as he adjusted his mask before setting off, and the young trainee in front of you sighed. “Really, I’m fine. Sure, a bit sore, but isn’t everyone? Let me go help my friends, I’m all good.”

“Let me check you first, alright? I’ll be quick.” He sighed, but nodded his head, and you motioned to the front of his jacket, letting him unzip it for you. You started at his head, gingers smoothing through brunette curls as you felt over his skull for bumps and grazes, your fingers coming up dry over smooth skin, before you were moving down. You scanned his eyes, watching reaction times, and grinning a little as he winced and cursed under his breath for staring right into it and trying to follow the light, blinking rapidly to clear the retina burn. “Can you say ‘the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog’ ten times fast?”

“Really?”

“Yep.” You popped the ‘p’, his face screwing up as he pouted, but he continued to list off the words to you, repeating them perfectly, stuttering over the words occasionally when he went too fast and got tongue-tied, but it was enough to signal to you that he was certainly understanding what he was saying, and aware of the words, never having a problem with processing them in his mind. “Tell me your birthday, your mother’s maiden name, and the street you grew up on as a kid?”

“You sound like a scammer trying to hack into my Facebook account. Those are my security questions. Do you want the name of my first elementary teacher or my favourite musician from when I was fifteen too?”

“Nah, not the musician. That was only a few months ago, too easy to test amnesia against.”

“Screw you, I’m twenty-two.” He growled, and you chuckled, listening to him give you the answers you had requested, as your hands moved over his ribs. There was no swelling, and you studied his reactions, the occasional wince or twitch, but nothing to indicate any serious pain. He’d have some bruising, but so would everybody in here, and there was no hard or tensed flesh under his skin to suggest any kind of internal problems that would flare up.

“Any pain you should be honest about?”

“None but this conversation.” He mumbled, and you pinched at his side roughly, the kid yelping and shoving at your shoulder, making you laugh as he stepped back, fastening his jacket up in protection against the heat, despite the flames now quite having made it to this room yet. “Alright, but you’re not going downstairs.”

“I’m not?”

“No, I need you to go and get the stretcher. Winston is in a bad way, and so is Minho. Both need to go to the hospital. We’re going to be down team members, and we can’t handle this on our own. We also need another ambo’. I need you to go and call it in, get another team and another paramedic here.”

“I can do that.”

“What out for the fire, it’s the big orange thing that glows, it’s hot too, an-”

“I hate you!” He yelled, flipping you off as he exited the doorway, and you turned back to face Minho. You crouched beside him, fingers pressing to his neck again as you took new measurements for him, and you could hear the team hustling around you, the sound of the trucks starting up outside as hoses were unravelled and water was beginning o be sprayed, but it did little to ease your worries, because the flames above you didn’t concern you, it was the occasional popping sound of another canister going up in flames that did, followed by the shakes and crumbling of the building around you.

Clicking on your radio, you tapped your fingers nervously on your knee while waiting. “Zart, Jeff, where are you guys?”

“Right here.” You almost fell in shock at the voices in the doorway, fogged-up glass and oil marks on their uniforms, and you twisted to find the group stumbling through the doorway. With an arm over each shoulder, Jeff and Zart were dragging Winston in, his head lulling at an uncomfortable angle, and Frypan was staggering behind them, clearly having understated the severity of his own injuries. “Where do you want him?”

“Fuck, uh, right next to Minho.” You stood up, bushing down your knees, and pointing to the spot on the concrete as you moved away. “Here; put him here.”

You pushed the entirety of your hand out from under the oversized sleeve, leaning down to pick up your bag, but placing your hand flat to the floor, lips pursing as you felt the warmth. It wasn’t burning, certainly nothing you couldn't handle and it would do no harm to the men laying on it, but it meant that the flames underneath were right up and curling along the ceiling, burning through everything below and threatening to break onto your floor.

It was overwhelming, Fry slumping down to the floor as he became unsteady, and you regretted that he’d even had to climb the stairs at all, but there was no way you would have been able to drag him up them, and with the speed at which the flames were expanding, you were just glad you’d been able to spare Zart and Jeff to help him.

“Fry, I’ll get to you in a minute, okay?”

“Take your time, at least I’m conscious.” He wheezed, a hand resting over his chest as he took slow and steady breaths, and your mind was spinning as you took your bag out from under Minho’s legs, and tried to decide where to start with Winston. There was oil all over the front of his shirt, spotted with burned patches of material where Fry had put out the flames, and it covered your hands as you tried to undo his jacket.

The tips of your fingers burned as you touched the still hot material, the boiling oil against your skin making you bit down on your lip to content he pain, but once it was open, you were wiping your hand across your pants and coat, smearing the black liquid in stains over your clothes, fingertips tainted by the substance. You couldn't see what you were doing, a mixture of blood, dust, ash and oil covering his skin in layers, but any injuries underneath would have to wait.

Lifting his head and removing the helmet, your fingers ran through raven-black and matted hair. There were several swollen and solid bumps forming, but nothing too serious. His pupils were delayed in response time and his pulse was slow and faint, all signs that made you panic, but there was nothing that you could do yet.

“I’m here! What can I do?”

You could have cried in relief at the voice of your partner, and you hadn't even heard him arriving, nor did you hear the other pairs of boots scuffing, Brenda arriving in the doorway ad looking so thoroughly panicked and distressed over the unconscious man on the floor she had a bond with, but she couldn't reach out. Thomas was behind her, and Gally filled the corridor with Jeff and Zart, of whom you had never even noticed leaving, but they were helping to carry the house, and the spray of water reached your ears now as you focused on it.

“Fry. I think he has a concussion, possible internal injuries, I haven’t had a chance to check him yet.” Newt nodded, spinning in the doorway to face his friend, and you turned back to the colleague before you on the floor. “Bren, I need you too.” You glanced back, her eyes snapping up from Minho to look at you, and she swallowed thickly, before nodding. “I need you to watch Minho for me, think you can do that?”

“Yes! Of course, uh, how? What do you need me to do?”

Her words were hurried and rushed, and Thomas was barking orders into the radio on his shoulder that were silent in your ears as you tuned him out for the time being. “Gross, I know, but take his hand. Hold tight, and monitor the pulse in his wrist. Just make sure it stays strong and steady.”

She caught onto what you were offering, the chance to be with the man she cared for without anyone knowing the real meaning behind it, and she let out a relieved breath, a silent look of appreciation and passing over her face as she did as told, turning to care for Minho as you helped her disguise the affections, knowing that she wasn’t ready to be open about it yet.

“Thomas?”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, the radio almost drowning him out at the shouts that came through and you couldn't make heads or tails of any of it, mangled voices all clashing together, and you admired that he seemingly could.

“Can you check where Chuck is with that stretcher?”

“Says he’s on his way down, house ‘35 is sending their Squad and Truck over with an ambo’ should be here in minutes, he’s trying to guide the stretcher around the rubble and broken flooring.” You nodded, licking over dry lips that threatened to crack, feeling his eyes sweep over you as he assessed you for harm, but you had other priorities to focus on, like saving the life of your friend. “Can I do anything?”

“You can come and get ready to lift Winston onto a board, and then get him up top with Chuck. I think we should get him ready to go as soon as they get here.”

His form towered over you as he waited, and you pressed along his chest, wishing that he was awake to give you reactions, but there was still information you could gain from it right now, even if he wasn’t conscious. There were patches of blood pooling under his shirt from where you suspected the worse burns to be, the places where the fire had burned right through his jacket when the chemicals had landed on him, but you couldn't risk treating them now and exposing his skin to the heat that was building in the room, despite the team trying to combat it.

“I’m here! I got the stretcher!” The wheels rattled and squeaked as Chuck entered the room, his body colliding with the side of the door frame as he spun around the corner.

He parked up beside you, the contraception coming to a halt, and you leaned over Winston, reaching up to find the handle underneath the device, and pressing it upwards. The locks holding the stretcher up high gave out, the bed sinking down to a lower level, until the entire thing was almost on the floor, folding like an ironing board, and you began to undo the harnesses. Thomas and chuck helped, getting it all undone, and soon, they were all hanging loose, the cushioned base waiting for a body.

“What now?”

“Now, Thomas gets his feet, Chuck on his hips, I got his shoulders and his head, and we lift him quickly and carefully. We need to move as a unit, I don’t want to risk any nerve damage by lifting out of order, alright?” You tried to remain professional, absolutely terrified at the prospect of losing a team member, and the two men got into position.

On your count, you lifted, supporting his head on your forearms and your hands hooked under his shoulders, grease covering your hand again, and your nails scraped against his jacket just to keep a hold on his slippery figure, but he was rested against the trolley only a moment later, and you hurried to fasten up the straps.

Loose enough not to irritate burned flesh but tight enough to hold him steady for the ride up, Chuck and Thomas didn’t hesitate, before they were setting off and out to meet the next team. You could hear the sirens of the other team now, loud and clear as they pulled up, and between the flickers of rising orange flames, you caught sight of blue, reflecting on the smashed glass of the windows were ash layers didn’t dull the gleam, and the adrenaline in your body depleted just a little as help arrived.

You were down three team members, and you weren’t so sure you fully believed how well everyone else was doing. Clint was down for the count in your books, the head injury and the shock alone taking him off the board, Thomas looked a little dazed as he moved despite trying to keep it together, Brenda was completely and utterly distracted, and you didn’t like the wheeze you were hearing every time Gally spoke over the radio, despite being cleared by Newt. He was probably lying about his condition, you weren’t entirely surprised if he was, they were all far too brave for their own good.

That left only five you were sure of; yourself and Newt who were paramedics, not firefighters, and Jeff and Zart, as well as Chuck, but he was only a candidate. Of twelve team members, you only had five left who were operational, and you weren’t sure that was even the truth.

Your feet were unstable underneath you as you made your way over to Newt, shoving the contents of your bag back inside - not that you’d been able to use much, the injuries gained here weren’t exactly infield patch up tasks - and checked with Brenda as you passed by, who was counting the heartbeats Minho let out each minute as she timed them on her watch, and you would have aww-ed internally at her devotion to him had it not been for the situation.

“How are we doing over here?”

Newt glanced up, worry written over his features. “Definite concussion, some serious bruising, cuts I’m not too happy about but I got it clean. I’m out of paper stitches, used them all on Clint, you got any?”

“Yeah, I got some.” You felt grimy as you slid your bag down your arms, grease smeared across your skin, staining your hands and face as you wiped away sweat, stray hairs and layers of dirt, crouching down and rooting through your bag to find the paper stitches. As you located them, the men returned, the stained and battered stretcher belonging to your ambulance was back with your two coworkers. “Winston?”

“On his way to Chicago Med with the paramedics from ‘35; he’s all good.”

“We need to get Minho on that next stretcher.” Newt was rubbing a hand absentmindedly over his thigh, and you worried your lower lip for only a second, before you had decided on your plan. “Newt, take Minho to the hospital. He’s stable, get him hooked up to a monitor and he’ll be fine. I’ll take care of Fry.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent.” You promised, Brenda and Chuck helping to get him all strapped up, before they were losing too, and you turned back to your friend, using a finger to tip his head up to look at you. “Keepin’ awake for me there, Fry?”

“Barely.”

“Just focus on me, alright? Why don’t you tell me about your latest cookery experiment.” He chuckled a little, and you peeled the first of the paper seals form the plastic packet, squeezing shut the cut across his shoulder in the fabric that newt had cut away to revel, blood oozing up over your fingers a little as you did, and he groaned at the feeling, before you were placing the first seal down.

“I’ve never made mac and cheese from scratch before, can you believe that?”

“Never?” You teased, and Thomas knelt beside you both, silent but patting his friend's good shoulder, and you peeled up another stitch, placing the sticky seals down carefully along his skin.

“Never. I’ve been practising different recipes, and I would love to make it for you all.”

“That sounds amazing. I love mac and cheese, so you stay awake for me and hold on, and I’ll help you cook it just as soon as you’re back on your feet.” As you placed the last one that was necessary, you tucked the plastic packet away, searching for your spray bottle of antiseptic, and cupping a hand over the wound to stop the residue flying into his face or eyes, before shaking it thoroughly.

“Oh, you gonna’ be my sous-chef?”

You took the chance while he was distracted, laughing lightly, and spraying over the wound, his groan of pain not missed by your ears as the other house began to storm through the building, their whole team uninjured and functional as they tackled this tragedy. “You bet I am. Think you can stand for me?”

He nodded, but was clinging onto Thomas for help, and you zipped up your bag quickly. “House ‘35 is going to take care of it all, everyone else is waiting outside. Brenda will drive the van, and you can check over everyone else.”

Thomas threw the words over his shoulder to you as you navigated through the building, the pathways you’d used to descend to them all were far thinner than they had been, the floor caving in more and more, and you stuck close to the wall for support as you passed them by, the shine of daylight getting stronger and stranger as you neared the door, and you were sure that you’d never quite get used to the cool feeling of a breeze every time you excited a burning building.

You were covered in soot, oil, and sweat, and you couldn't wait to just get back to the house and wash off. The rest of your team were standings around, the ones who hadn't been shipped off to the hospital, anyway, and you let out a heavy sigh as you glanced over them. You’d all looked better; everyone having taken a defeat today, slumped shoulders and worn-out bodies as you passed your sight over each one.

“I just want to check over one van before we leave, and I’ll check over the rest on the way there.”

“Who’s doing the best?” Thomas questioned, a chuckle rising from everyone at the irony of it, and your lips flicked up as he took your helmet from you, throwing it uselessly into the back of the Squad truck and not even bothering to put it away.

“Well, I already checked out Chuck and Fry, they’re all good. I want to get another glance at Gally, but Jeff and Clint are good to go. I’ll ride back with Squad and Truck can go up ahead.” Thomas only nodded, grimacing as he stretched while moving away, loading your shoes into the van too, and Brenda flopped into her seat within the truck from the second she’d climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Newt already said I was alright.” Gally offered, handling his helmet in front of his body as he came to stand before you, and you raised a brow at him.

“So, you don’t have any chest pains I should know about?” His mouth opened, denials spilling from his lips, and you lifted a hand, placing it flat on his chest and pushing down with a minimal amount of force, but even at the light contact, his words were cut off as his breathing hitched, face screwing up in pain. “You sure?”

“It was no big deal, really. I got thrown, I landed on some material, chest first. It’s just sore.”

“Does it hurt when you breathe?” You raised a brow, smoothing your fingers over his chest lightly and pressing down against the muscle in certain spots as you tried to get a reading of where the injuries were, without actually having him strip his shirt off in the middle of the area.

“A little.” The winces on his face continued on until you were halfway around his sides, and down to the base of his lungs from the tops of his shoulders, purple bruising beginning to flash up along pale flesh when you pulled the neckline of his shirt aside to take a look. “Okay, maybe a lot.”

“You’re not gonna’ like it, but when Newt gets back with the ambo’, I think you should go and get some scans.”

“Do I really have to go to hospital?” He mumbled, groaning in discontent towards the end of his words, and you shrugged, a slight smile forming on your face.

“You really do.” He frowned, and you shrugged, pulling your jacket a little tighter around yourself. “Clint needs stitches and so does Fry, so I need to take all three of you, anyway.”

“Oh, so it’s a club thing, then?” He grinned, tucking his helmet under his arm as he wandered back toward the trucks alongside you, and Thomas was holding open the backdoor of the Squad vehicle, Zart already sitting inside, head tipped back to rest on the seats and eyes closed, exhaustion taking over.

Jeff was behind the wheel of the Truck van, with Fry, Clint and Chuck in the back, a space left for Gally. It was much the same with Squad, Brenda sitting up front and a space left for Thomas, neither truck having their usual driver and they felt unsettling empty with half of the team missing, but you forced yourself to swallow down the anxious feeling, the worst seeming to be over, exhaustion being all that was left. The Truck engine started up, hissing as it took off of its brakes slowly, and Brenda composed the motions, twisting the keys to start it up as you came to stand before Thomas.

He stood slightly taller than you, and as your eyes swept over soot-stained skin, you caught sight of the red on the underside of his jaw. Settling a hand on his cheek, he gave no resistance as you tipped his head back a little, his pulse thrumming under your thumb, and you let out a soft breath. “Not too bad, just a little cut. I’ll clean it up for you.”

“Didn’t know it was even there.”

“Oh, manly man, doesn’t know he’s hurt.” You teased, a breathy laugh leaving him as you let him go, and his hand found the small of your back through layers of material as he helped you climb up and into the van, the door slamming shut behind you.

It took him only a second to round the vehicle and get himself in, before Brenda was following quickly on the tail of the other truck onto the road, sirens unneeded as you slowly made your way back to the firehouse, the day seeming like a real blow, a rare day when there was no victory for your team, no lives saved that you could pat yourselves on the backs for, and some of your team already rushed away to the hospital.

As the van moved, the ache in your body seemed to loosen a little, and you set your bag down on the seat beside where you were, kneeling against the cushioned chairs to lean over the backs towards the front compartment. There were so very light burns along the edge of Brenda’s face, nothing any more severe than a sunburn, but the skin still looked inflamed with red and a little sensitive, and you shuffle through one of the inside pockets that Newt had arranged for you, seeking out a cooling aloe wipe, and tearing the top from the foil packet.

The piece of fabric was damp and cool under against touch, and you leaned over the seat carefully, making sure to be gentle as you wiped along the edges of her jaw, her attention fixed on the roads ahead of her, but she smiled a little at the relief of the cooling gel infusion against her skin. As soon as you’d finished caring for the delicate wounds, you used the wipe to clean the tips of your fingers, the rest of your skin still stained with the remnants of everything you’d encountered during your failed expedition, but the flesh of your fingers were clean, a dollop of burn relief cream coating the tips of two fingers.

A patch along her jaw was shiny and a little greasy from the residue of the cream, waiting to soak in and soothe the wound, but it was no longer bothering her and that was enough. Thomas tipped his head back a little, his body deflating under the weight of the coat over his chest, sagging in his tiredness, and his head rolled to the side to peer up at you.

“Me next?”

“Thought it didn’t hurt?” You grinned, a scowl taking place on his lips but the edges trembled as he threatened to smile, and he let out a little huff.

“Fine, I’ll just let it get infected, probably get some kind of blood infection, then I’ll die.” You couldn't hold back the laugh you let out at his dramatics, his eyes glimmering a little in the reflection of the mirror into the back as he caught your gaze.

“You are so melodramatic.”

“It’s a possibility!” He defended, Brenda and Zart adding small laughs to the mix, and your fingers brushed along his jaw, tipping his head to the side and ankling it upwards to catch the light on the cut as you examined it. Taking out a cotton pad and adding a douse of antiseptic to the centre, he held his head in that position.

“It’s a very low possibility. This is barely a cut.”

“Yeah, well, even if it- stings like a bitch, holy fuck!” That made Brenda laugh loudly, the van swerving a little in her shock, and he flinched away from you. “What the fuck, I thought it was ‘barely a cut’?”

“That could not possibly have hurt that much! Stop whining!” He growled a little under his breath, heat flushing over his cheeks as he complained about the skin being sensitive and the cut being deeper than you must think, and his head came back up to the correct angle as soon as you’d rubbed a little healing gel onto it. “Oh, you’ll be fine. It’ll be totally gone within a week.”

“Maybe you should kiss it better.”

Your head twisted to look at Zart, his eyes weren’t even open as his hands sat folded across his stomach, resting his eyes, and you were almost back at the station, your own cheeks flushing with embarrassed warmth now, and you packed your things away as you tried to get a hold of yourself.

“You know, just for that, you get to do reps next shift.”

“I did nothing wrong!” The foremen complained, his lieutenant sitting up front with a smirk on his face as he abused his power, and you grinned to yourself as Brenda all but howled in amusement. You almost missed the crackling of the radio on the dashboard over the amusement, and the shout that came through it, but the static was cleared by the second call, and the laughs faded away into silence.

The mood within the cabin changed in all of two seconds, laughs and gentle teasing with warm cheeks became blood running cold and a chilling shudder running along your body. The firetrucks ahead of you swerved onto the side of the road, their desperate calls for you to stop and join their vehicle made your legs feel weak, and you scrambled for the door handle before the truck had even finished rolling fully to a halt.

Their doors were already open, the body on the floor made you almost rip over your own feet as your mind short-circuited.

Hunched over on the floor of the van was Chuck, his body jerking unevenly in seizures as his hands hung by his sides, and as you knelt by his sides, a sudden cough shook his body, heaving for breath as he struggled to suck in any breath at all. You didn’t have the ambulance, or any of the equipment you needed, and you were left with only what you had in your bag and your bare hands.

“What the hell happened?”

Gally looked lost for words as you demanded an explanation from him, and you rolled Chuck onto his side, trying to position the larger man into the recovery position as he coughed. “I don’t know! One minute he was fine, said he felt a little dizzy, and that his vision was blurry around the edges but we all just assumed it was because he was tired, like us, or had a headache or something. But then he was talking, and his words didn’t make any sense! We called you, and as we were pulling over, he just fell out of his chair like this!”]

“Do something!”

“What’s happening?”

“Is he having a seizure?”

There were too many voices, you had no idea what was wrong, you’d done your initial examination of the boy and nothing had shown up. He was talking, smiling and chatting. He was steady on his feet with no signs of injury other than some bumping and bruising, no internal bleeding or cuts, and yet, he was having a seizure under your hands that you couldn't stop.

Your fingers pressed to his neck as you tried to find the strength or speed of his pulse; slow, unsteady and weak being your answer. “I need my bag! Someone go and get it!”

Multiple pairs of booted feet moved, and you solved a hand into the oversized pocket of the fireman's jacket you wore to find a torch you’d discarded long ago. Lifting one eyelid and flashing the beam of light over it, there was no longer a reaction, his pupil never moving, and your own heart felt like it stopped beating in your chest. Your bag landed next to you, the firemen gathered around you, but it felt like the world was slipping away, crumbling to ash and dust with everything you touched.

The whole day had felt oddly like it was moving in a mixture of slow motion, and too fast for words. Like you were walking through tar, but placed on fast forward, but this was different. This was the moment that made it seem like everything came to a stop, while minutes turned to seconds. It was too fast for you to handle, but flashing before your eyes like a video being played scene by scene. Like an out of body experience, a lucid dream, your hands being your own but the motions feeling detached, as your mind began to shut down on itself in shock and horror.

Voices ringing in your ears; screaming and shouting at you, begging you to do something, and yet you were doing all that you could, but nothing was helping. His seizing didn't stop, neither did the blood he was coughing up, splattering across your cheek in trails of wet droplets, spraying down your neck as he convulsed, across your chest as you leaned over to try and tip his head back to help him breathe.

“We need to get to the hospital, why is nobody driving this damn truck?”

Your hands were on his chest, trying to pump when you felt his body go still, when his heart stopped beating under your palm. It wasn’t the first time you’d lost a patient, it wasn't the first time you’d felt life slip away, your fist closing as you grasped to hold on but their life slipping away under your palms, but this was the first time you felt the life of a friend ebbing away and you were helpless to stop it. Your body was thrown from side to side, violently as you were threatened to be tipped from your kneeled position, sirens overhead and traffic swerving out of your way as the firetrucks raced.

Gally’s voice was clear in the ruckus, muffled but able to be picked out, calling into the hospital across the radio to meet you all outside, doing his best run down of the situation as he called for help, and there was a headache born of stress forming behind your eyes that threatened to split your skull right open.

This was Chuck; your first friend in the firehouse, the sweet kid who always had flushed cheeks and bouncy brown curls who was the first to really make you feel less alone, like maybe you’d found a home, the first person to truly let you in. The first person to talk to you on your first day, the first person to share a joke with you, the kid who made you tea when you were tired and watched romcoms, and had his squad training already all lined up because he just knew he was going to pass his exams. He had a locker only two doors down from your own, and his peppermint body wash always made your eyes sting a little but you'd miss it if it didn't, and you weren’t ready to let him go.

There was crying, wailing and screaming of his name, and it came with a flash of pain in your throat as the voice sounded suddenly hoarse and strained that you realised it was you. The wet heat on your cheek was no longer blood but salty tears, and there was a messy mixture on your face that smeared over your skin as you tried to wipe your tears away, stinging at your eyes, skin feeling raw as the rough material of your sleeve caught against sensitive flesh.

The doors of the firetruck opened; your arms, from your wrists all the way to your shoulders and your back, ached as you continued to pump at his chest, and two doctors you didn’t know had to pull you back and off of him to be able to lift his body onto the stretcher. He was rushed from sight, carried away from you quickly, your team surrounding the doorway as they all held the same look of abject horror, staring after the candidate they loved so deeply as he was taken away.

And then there was Newt, appearing from double doors to stare out at the scene before him, wondering what in the hell had happened, just like the rest of you were, the weight of the mystery looming over you all like a crushing weight, concrete sinking you to the ocean floor. You couldn't take it, not the whispered questions of confusion or the worried glances or even the hands that reached out to rub at your shoulders as they tried to bring you back from the brink, you couldn't take it.

It was Allison standing beside you, the nurse you’d met a couple of times, and your throat felt about as dry as sandpaper as you turned to face her, one clean and delicate hand reaching up for you, but you swerved away from it, the idea of another person’s touch right now making you feel more nauseous than you already did.

“Gally. He needs scans.” Her brows furrowed, and your voice didn’t even sound like your own, forcing you to choke back emotions and swallow down on a raw throat as you tried to think. “Chest injury, he needs some tests done. Clint needs stitches, so does Fry.”

“I can get that sorted, but don’t you think you ne-”

“I need to go. I need to go now.” You nodded to yourself, licking over cracking lips as you looked back to the doors that Chuck had disappeared through. “I need to go and be with Chuck.”

You didn’t pause, not when she spoke, calling out after you, or when Brenda reached out. Not when Thomas called your name, followed by an endearing pet name that was falling on deaf ears, or even when Newt reached out to snatch your wrist, fingers skimming your skin as you shouldered through the door, stumbling in placement after him. You heard him follow, though. The familiar pattern of footsteps that you knew to be your partners as his shoes squeaked across the floor.

You didn’t make it far, thumb jamming into the elevator door button and leaving a greasy mark across the shining silver button; oil, dust, blood, sweat, chemical. You didn’t bother to clean it off as the doors opened, and your blond friend slipped in alongside you once they closed again. He hit the right button this time, and he didn’t say anything, but he did take your hand, squeezing tightly and not letting go, even when you pulled away, when the pull to close in felt too strong, when the offer of comfort felt unwelcome and undeserved, he forced you to take it anyway, and in the silence of the elevator, the first real sob broke free.

They didn’t stop after that.

Not when you stepped out of the elevator, following along to the waiting room you’d become familiar with over almost a year of being around this hospital, of making friends. Your friend was dying, you finally allowed yourself to settle, to believe you were able to have something good, and it was being torn out from under your feet slowly, piece by piece. The thumb rubbing over your skin, and the tickling of the clock on the wall that showed minutes melting away until over an hour had passed was all that kept your panic attack at bay, the rhythmic sounds and motions keeping you in control, even if everything felt like it was spinning out.

At some point, you’d claimed enough to sit down, you didn’t know when, you didn’t really recall the decision, but now that you were sitting down in the chair, every muscle felt like it was too weak to ever stand again. You were exhausted, there was nothing left within you, and you were choking down the urge to vomit with every breath you took. Nervous reactions, the ticks in your muscles, the occasional spasms in the aftershock of such an adrenaline rush, and you were struggling to even breathe at this point.

Newt whispered words to you occasionally, statements that seemed to go in one ear and out of the other, but you’d retained a few key pieces. Clint and Fry were all stitched up, and had been taken back to the station with the rest of the firefighter’s when they had left. Minho was dismissed and to go straight home, and to follow the medical advice given to him by his house paramedics, if your head was ever going to be back in the game again, and Gally was much the same. He had internal bruising but no cracked ribs, he would just be achy and sore for a couple of days maybe even a week or two. Winston was due out of surgery any minute now, burns peeled of fabric and skin cleared of chemicals, but he wouldn't wake up until the morning, and he’d be in the hospital for a few days yet.

Then, came Chuck.

What seemed like hours later, and you were sure it was, if the change in the lighting outside as the evening began to creep in had anything to suggest, and you didn’t need to hear the news. It was obvious, as your friend stepped through the door, the mournful look on Derek’s face even when you knew that he hadn't been the one to perform the surgery, and what left you had seemed to fall away.

You had nothing left to give, no tears left to cry or screams left to let bounce from the walls. It was numb; cold and dark and lonely. You didn’t want touch, you didn’t want comfort or words of calming endearment, or anything else. You wanted your feet to move underneath you, and to carry you out to the van to go back to the station. You couldn't even speak, you couldn't thank Derek for coming to give you the news himself, to be the one to break your heart and deliver the blow a little softer than a stranger would have, but it was like he read your mind, because he dipped down, pressing what felt like a brotherly kiss to the top of your head, before Newt was wrapping an arm over your shoulders.

They traded a few words, things you missed, unable to cling to even a single syllable, before you were being guided along, white shiny halls like a blur around you, until you were sitting in the cold seat on the passenger side of the ambulance, clipping yourself in like you were on autopilot, and resting your head on cool glass, your eyes sliding closed.

You didn’t register the journey, none of the speed-bumps or dips in the road, and the silence in the cabin felt utterly stifling, your skin crawling as Newt drove beside you, slow and steady as he guided the van along, and your fingers were digging to tightly into your palms that you worried your nails would tear right through the skin and shred your palms. Your eyes were burning, holding back tears, and everything in your body felt like it centred on a weight, hanging on a pit in your stomach as your guts twisted into knots, bile rising in your throat as you choked it back, and your body jerked forwards a little in the seat as the van came to a stop.

Newt whispered an apology for the abrupt halt, his parking a little wonky when you cracked sore eyes open and blinked into the light, skin stiff from salt and stained with the horror of the day, and you didn’t bother to reply. As soon as you stepped out of the van, the team were there, all freshly showered and clean, changed into their own clothes and staring at you expectantly, and it felt like you were holding the entire world upon your shoulders.

“There was nothing that could be done.” He let out a sigh, heartbroken gaze flickering over everybody standing and waiting for news in the bay. “He had a-”

“Subdural haematoma.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, cutting Newt off, and their attention moved back to you as you cut Newt off. “He had a subdural haematoma. That, uh, that means he had a brain bleed, a tear in a blood vessel on the left side. He would have been fine if he’d made it to the hospital, if I’d noticed it, but it clotted rapidly. That gave him a pulmonary embolism.”

“The clots to stop the bleeding in his brain stopped blood from being able to get to his lungs.” Newt clarified, and you wondered if the way you were feeling on the inside was reflected on your face. “They tried to operate, but there wasn’t anything they could d-”

“I should have noticed sooner.” You mumbled, and Newt twisted to look at you, but then the feeling in your guys became all too much, and you cupped a hand over your mouth, pushing through the team as you stumbled in the closest you could get to a run. Pain radiated along your arm as you pushed through the main door to the locker room with your shoulder, knees hitting the hard tiling of the bathroom floor and making a cry leave your lips as you fell. The stall door slammed against the wall, a loud and echoing sound that made you wince as it rattled your skull.

Hands found the edges of cold porcelain, tears blurring your vision as you emptied your guts into the bowl. You heaved, bile and vomit burning your throat, and you couldn’t breathe, a flash of panic racing through your mind at the feeling as your body continued to wretch, before a further sickeningly thought crossed your mind as the fleeting thought about Chuck feeling the same way passed your mind. He couldn't breathe either, he had suffocated on his own blood as he bled out, all because you hadn't found the signs of his bleeding, because you hadn't helped him hold on a little longer, because you hadn't been able to save him.

A hand was on your back, and you arched away from the undeserved comfort, before fingers were wrapping in your hair, holding the loose strands that had fallen stray out of your face, before the hand was taking place again, rubbing soft circles against your back through the layers of material. There was no more bile, there were only tears, wracking sobs that broke you down as you cried, everything feeling weak, and you could barely hold yourself up.

That same hand moved, pulling you backwards until you were slumped out across the floor. You were trembling, shaking so violently you could barely reach a dirty hand up to wipe across the back of your mouth, and you managed to blink tear-filled eyes clear to look up at the person before you.

“Get out, Thomas.”

“Why?” He whispered, and you couldn't hold back the humourless laugh, shaking your head before you were breaking down into sobs again, and he shushed you quietly.

“Get out, Thomas! Get out, leave me alone, go away! Just get out!” You thrashed, his arms wrapping around you tighter as you pushed back against him, cursing and screaming. “Why won’t you leave me alone, just let me sit here, just let me be!” Walls were going back up inside of you, to protect yourself as the reality of the situation began to really settle in your mind, and you couldn't put them back up while Thomas was standing in your way, every ounce of pain leaking in. “I don’t want you here, get off me! Get out!”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled you a little closer, the angle awkward, your hands pushing at his chest until there was no strength left in your body, and he held you tight. Your fingers gripped at his shirt, pushing weakly as your words became gabled and muffled, and you couldn't take it anymore.

You gave in.

You only had so much fight to give.

“He’s dead, Thomas..” Your words were like the final piece to truly accepting it, and you sniffed, sure that your skin was wet from a disgusting mixture of tears, vomit and snot but he never let you go, a hand rubbing up and down your back as his fingers slipped free from your hair, the ends damp against your skin where your upchuck had caught them in the crossfires, and yet, you couldn't even bring yourself to care about hygiene or impressions as you came to accept that you’d lost a friend. “He died, I could have stopped it. I should have done more, I should have checked again, I should ha-”

“There was nothing you could have done. Newt told us about it. He explained it. There’s nothing you could have done.” He pushed hair back out of your face, uncaring for the situation you were in, and wiping his fingers over your cheeks gently. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was. It’s my job to look after you all, and I failed at that.”

“That’s such crap.” He mumbled, your eyes snapping up to find his, and brows furrowing. “How were you supposed to know what was going on inside of his skull? Huh?”

“Thomas, I’m not in the mood fo-”

“The truth?” He snipped, cutting you off, and his hands hooked under your armpits as he pulled you up to your feet, your legs giving way and weight falling onto him as he supported you, one hand on your neck as an arm held up around your waist, thumb brushing under your jaw. “Look at me.”

You dragged your sights up, honey-brown eyes filled with concern staring down at you. “It wasn’t your fault, and nobody but you thinks it was. If Chuck were here right now, he’d call you out for blaming yourself.”

It was true, you knew it was, and it made your lips curl into the briefest smile you’d ever had.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” You could only nod, his hands now both on your waist as he guided you in slow steps towards the shower. There was grime covering your skin, bodily fluids, grit and dust, all the way to grease and oil, and you hate the feeling of another caked-on layer against your skin. The water tap creaked a little as Thomas twisted it, water bursting through, and you were still gasping for breaths through your sobs as you stepped underneath it.

It was freezing, at first, the cold water was like a shock to your system as you closed your eyes and tipped up into the flow to let the harsh droplets wash over your skin. It began to warm up, and your lips parted, letting you breathe as you tried not to break down again. There was a rattle in the distance, the sound of someone moving through a locker, and your legs buckled once again. The weight of the world on your shoulders, the weight of everything that had happened, crushing you down into the ground, and your back smacked against the edge of the stall, and you sank down, until water was swilling around you as you curled your legs to your chest under the flow.

“Oh, sweetheart..”

Your chest ached a little at the tone of his voice, whispered words that hardly carried over the thrashing sound of the water, and his hand reached out to place your washkit on the small ledge out of the spray radius. His toes locked behind one heel, taking off his boots, before his sock followed, and he repeated the actions on the other foot. Bare feet met watery tiles as he stepped inside the stall, water beginning to mark over the edge of his t-shirt as he stepped close to the spray. “You’re going to get wet.”

“I don’t care.” His hands stuck out, expectantly waiting for your own as he stepped before you, water soaking over his back and clothes, hair growing wet once again, droplets shifting over his skin and dripping from the end of a sweetly upturned nose, and you slipped your hands into his. As he pulled you up, water bounced from his body across your face, and your bottom lip trembled. Tears were gathering in his own eyes, like he was only just getting a grasp on the situation, and his hands left your own, to smooth up over your arms.

A single tear escaped his eyes, lost in the droplets along his cheeks, and he cried silently while the sounds of your wailing filled the space. His fingers slipped under the edges of the jacket you wore, the heavy coat sodden with water, and he slipped it down your arms slowly, until it was hanging from your arms, and he took it from you, reaching outside of the cubicle to drop it to the tiled floors, and it felt a little easier to breathe now that it was gone.

“There are so many people who care about you. Right outside of those doors, all worried about you, all wanting you to be okay, too.” He pushed back wet strands of hair, delicate touch easing the bobble from your hair, letting the damp bundle fall around your shoulders to be washed too. His fingers moved to the buttons along the front of your paramedics uniform, the crisp white spattered with black and red, tarnished with grey, and as his nimble fingers undid each button, he leaned in, lips brushing over your skin, slow and tentative, until he was pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, water dripping over his lips, but he pressed in carefully, hands barely moving between your bodies.

He shifted, only a centimetre or so higher, across your cheekbone, a kiss pressed there, too, as he peeled the wet fabric of your shirt down your arms, discarded with your jacket, until just a wet vest covered your torso, white material going see-through under the fall. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and your neck, and then your shoulder, before he was sinking lower and lower to the floor, kneeling before you and moving his hands to your boots, tugging at the laces until they came undone.

Your hands balanced on his shoulders as you lifted each foot, letting him tug away boots and socks, your toes aching from the strain you’d put on them, flexing a little against the tile when your feet were lowered again. Large hands smoothed up the backs of your legs, circling over the front of your thighs to tug the string of the firefighters pants loose, and he eased them down your legs, revealing the smart dress-pants of your uniform from underneath, and the pile building outside of the stall was leaking water across the floor into a large puddle, but neither of you cared.

You weren’t sure when you’d stopped crying, but you had, sniffling and a sore throat but the tears no longer came, and Thomas shuffled before you. He leaned back a little, clothes clinging to his skin much like your own were, and you raised a hand from his shoulders to push the wet hair plastered to his forehead back and away from his eyes, his head twisting to press a kiss or his palm. You weren’t sure whether it was for your comfort or his, but it soothed you a little anyway.

His hand found your waistband, tugging lightly on the material as a finger slipped underneath, his eyes locked on your own with a silent question hidden inside, and when you gave him no resistance, his other hand joined. He popped the button delicately, tugging the zipper down, before inching those trousers further down your legs. Each movement he made revealed a new patch of skin, and he peppered occasional kisses over the fronts of your thighs as he moved, nose nudging against your skin, until you were stepping out of the trousers, a hand under his chin to pull him back up to his full height, and the rest of his body followed.

His skin felt hot against yours as your palms inched underneath his shirt, locking onto the bottom of his tee, before pulling it upwards. His hands raised over his head, allowing you to strip the material away from his body, ruined and sodden, joining your clothing on the floor. His hands were on your cheeks as soon as they dropped back down, pulling you forwards until he could let his lips meet your forehead. He pressed a kiss to every spot on your face, and every time he did, it was like he was pulling another piece of your fears and worries away from you, relieving you of the pain.

He gave you no hesitation when your hands found his belt, undoing it swiftly and tugging the leather from its loops, before his trousers were following, kicked away and discarded to the ground outside, tugging your vest out of his way so bare hands could smooth down over your sides, pulling you forward until he was holding you so close that the body heat rolling off of him flooded over your skin and gave you goosebumps.

His forehead rested to yours, and yet he never moved it further than that, sharing breath, lips brushing ever so slightly, a tingle felt right to your fingertips, but he didn’t kiss you.

It wasn’t the right time, and both of you knew it. It was a development that was inevitably coming, every snowball of affection added to the avalanche, dragging you both down with it, but it wasn’t time yet. This was a time of hurt and comfort, of seeking a moment of respite in one another’s embrace, and your hands wrapped around his body.

“Just hold me, Tommy,” it wasn’t a crashing realisation, nothing abrupt or sudden, but more of a peaceful revelation as his arms squeezed a little tighter around you, that Thomas had made himself a place in your life that you’d never be able to replace, “and don’t let me go.”

“I don’t plan to.” He whispered, lips pressed to the top of your head as comforting kisses were left there in the wake of his words. Tense muscles in his back relaxed under your touch before your hands were hooking onto his shoulders and your chest was pressing to his, hearts racing in matching beats, as he dragged you in closer.

His head dipped, face pressing into your neck the same way yours was in his, and his fingers spread out across your back.

You didn’t know how long you stood like that, minutes or hours seeming to slip by, the rhythmic fall of the water letting you slow your heart down, your chest rising and falling in synchronicity with Thomas’, his fingertips digging into your flesh as you clung to one another.

At some point, he moved, one hand leaving your body to reach out to the shelf, and find some soap. The later shifted between both of your bodies, his fingers moving through your hair with shampoo and conditioner to follow, and the dirt of the day sliding from your skin made everything feel a little easier to handle, less of a burden and more of a weight, shared with the man before you as he helped you to hold it up.

There was more, a whole team, willing to step in and help you bear the pressure if you’d just let them, and you wanted to do so. You were so scared to lose them but it was out of your control, and you couldn't do it alone, not any more.

When you finally felt like you had the power to give in, and to step back, the water was turned off, water dripping along your body and from the ends of your hair, before Thomas was reaching for a towel. He wrapped one around his waist, a blush rolling over your face and a subtle smirk on his lips as he did, the material sitting low against his hips, water still dripping along his body, and you tried not to follow any of the droplets as he stepped closer to you.

“Y’know, I didn’t think I’d get the honour of getting you undressed quite so soon.” Holding out another towel, he sealed it around your body, letting you tuck it tightly over your chest to hide the underwear you’d been left in, as you suddenly became overly aware of your near-nudity. Your jaw dropped a little, eyes going wide, and he chuckled at your panicked state, shaking his head and letting his fingers smooth down your arm until one of his hands was pressed loosely to yours. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m not looking. One day, you’re gonna’ ask me to, and I want that moment to be the special one.”

“Thank you, Tommy.” Your fingers laced with his, tugging him closer, and he dipped down, smiling softly as the tip of his nose dragged along your hairline. The door opened, Brenda coming to stare at you both, red-rimmed eyes and a soft smile, before she shrugged lightly.

“You want me to brush your hair for you?”

Something told you that the gesture would be just as comforting for her as it was for you; she was heartbroken, and undoubtedly chafing at the bit to get off shift and see Minho, but your heart soared at the idea that she might find comfort with you like you did with her, just like Thomas did, or anyone else. They were your family, and they needed you as much as you needed them.

You took a seat on the bench before her, and so opened up her locker, producing an assortment of bottles from inside. Her fingers ran over your scalp, separating the hair out as she sprayed something that smelled like watermelon over your scalp, working it through your hair, before following it with a plastic comb. Thomas had disappeared to get changed, and your fingers were gripping tightly to the edge of the towel, pulling at loose threads. It was a material you didn’t recognise, not yours, and you figured that the worn fabric must belong to Thomas, because his had been matching.

When he came back around the edges of the locker, you lifted your he'd, watching as Thomas inched yet another fresh t-shirt down over his body, shaking his head a little as damp stands got stuck, and you winced a little at a knot that tugged on the strands, Brenda whispering her apology.

“I’ll go and wait outside, alright?”

You nodded, your hand reaching up to grasp Thomas’ before he left, and he paused, waiting a moment and squeezing back, before smiling. He leaned down, lips brushing over the crown of your head, before he was walking past, and you could practically already hear the words she wanted to say. While you didn’t know what they were you could feel them hanging over your head as she brushed quietly, and the second the door fell shut to leave the two of you alone, she was letting them go;

“You’d be cute, y’know.”

You knew what she meant, but feigned confusion, despite it. “Who?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.” She teased, poking you in the back of the head slightly with the comb, before she was bringing another chunk down to begin brushing through it. “I’ve known Thomas for a while, but I’ve never seen him like this. He really cares about you.”

“I care about him too.” You mumbled, and while you didn’t see it, you knew the smile that was on her face and could picture it in your mind. “I care about you, as well, Bren. I care about all of you.”

“We care about you too.” She finished her brushing, pulling the strands back out of your face, before she was picking up the next bottle. Some foam, you weren’t sure what for, but she added a few pumps of it onto her hands as she rubbed her palms together, before weaving it through your hair, and you relished in the simple touch of being cared for so gently. “We don’t blame you. Please don’t shut us out. You might not need us right now, maybe you’re used to doing things alone, but we need you.”

Tears pulled at your eyes again, and you turned to face her, finding her in much the same way as she blinked them back, her hands falling away to her sides. “I need you, Bren. I need you because you’re my best friend, the only best girl friend I’ve ever had, and the only person who takes me out for a wine evening, which I think I’m going to need, because I’ll need some girl advice at some point.”

She grinned, a watery and shaky smile, chin wobbling a little as she put her things away, before taking a seat on the bench before you, sniffling lightly. “I don’t think you’ll need the advice, have you seen the way he looks at you? I might be the one needing advice.”

You wiped at your cheeks, laughing lightly to avoid your shyness. “I noticed that you stayed the night at Minho’s last night, on a work night, no less.”

“How the hell would you know that?”

“I’m observant.” You teased, and her head ducked, giving her a moment to think over her words, you stood, opening your locker, and searching for a change of clothes. You weren’t shaking as much, and while you were technically still on duty for another hour, you were praying no more calls came in, because you were changing straight into your comfy clothes, a hoodie and some leggings, ignoring everything else, and switching out your underwear behind the door of your locker.

“Thank you for letting me be with him today.”

“You were helping me do my job, I should be thanking you!” You offered, clipping a fresh bra behind your back, before pausing, and staring into the locker at the t-shirt you had available. It was your house ‘21 emblem shirt, comfy cotton, and it felt soft under your touch, lifting it up to bring it over your head, and once you had, your hoodie was following.

“I know that you didn’t need my help, but you were trying to help me. That’s real friendship, thank you.” You just shrugged, pulling on a second pair of socks for comfort, and closing your locker, with your toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, the bitter taste of bile still in your mouth, and heading over to the sink. Switching on the tap and running your brush underneath, you added a dollop of the paste to the bristles, and began to scrub at your teeth.

It was relieving, to wash away the final elements of the breakdown that you’d had, and Brenda was kind enough to scoop up the still dripping articles of clothing on the floor as you did, and load them into a plastic basket. She offered to take them to the laundry room for you, but you had her leave them, saying you’d do it yourself, and then, you were left alone once again, promising you’d be out in a minute to find the team.

The reality was that you needed a moment to yourself, to process that for the first time ever, you had a team to turn to, people you could truly let your walls down around.

Balancing the basket on your hip as you left the room, you took it with you, drips of water left like a breadcrumb trail as you padded socked-feet across the bay, towards the laundry room. You weren’t sure how it should all be done, officially, whether there was a set temperature or cycle to set off the heatproof materials on, but you just dumped it all into a washer too tired to care, and taking a moment to clear your mind.

A scoop of some kind of European washing powder that Gally swore by, and the scent of florals filled the room as you added it. A splash of fabric softener, a few buttons beeping upon being pressed and the lid closing, and then the machine rattled to life as the sound of water rushing through the pipes bounced through the room. You left the basket propped up against the wall.

Newt was the first by your side upon entering the room, eyes wide as he wrapped you up into a hug, talking a mile and minute about how worried he was before cutting himself off with a hiccup, and you clung to him just as tightly, feeling him sag into your touch a little. “There was nothing that could be done.”

You were the only intended audience for the words, whispered into your ear as he hugged you, a hand petting your damp hair gently as it dried in the warm air, the heaters all turned up high for warmth, and the group were dotted around the room. “I know. I’m sorry for running off.”

“Are you okay?” He pulled back, eyes glossy like everyone else's, and you frowned, wiping his cheek to clear away a tear that fell.

“Are you?”

He shrugged, neither of you really knowing the answer to that question right now, but you did know that you would be. With the companionship of your team, your friends, your family, you would be just fine, as long as you allowed them to help you. You shook yourself off, Newt collapsing back down into his armchair, and everyone else seemed to have a place in the room. Brenda was sharing a couch with Jeff and Clint, Fry was sitting on the end of the couch beside Thomas and scrolling through the channels, a space left empty for you.

You glanced up, familiar eyes meeting yours, and he tipped his head lightly to the side in offering. You stared a moment longer, your feet carrying you more directly towards him, and he watched as you found yourself before the space, lifting his arms up as you collapsed down into it. You weren’t shy this time, or unsure about what it meant. You knew exactly what you wanted, and what it meant.

You wanted the safety of being in Thomas’ arms, the temporary relief from the emotional turmoil you had when he held you, to sync the beta of your heart up to his as it thudded under your cheek when you laid your head on his chest. Tipping your head up to see him, you didn’t care about anyone else right now, you didn’t care about anything else, because you were surrounded by the people who meant the most to you.

You saw the cut on his jaw again, running a finger over it, and you tried to push your mind back to before everything had happened, to before the pain. You were in the truck laughing with Brenda and Thomas and Zart, cheeks flush from the warmth of a joke made about your blossoming relationship with the lieutenant, and comment about a sweet gesture to be made. Leaning up, your lips followed your finger, pressing a soft kiss to the spot, and a breathy sound left Thomas as you did, before he was bringing his other hand up to thread into your hair and brush at the strands lightly.

“What was that for?”

“I was kissing it better.” You mumbled, his heart beating rapidly under your head, your fingers brushing and the cotton of his shirt, and Fry finally settled on a movie. He leaned down, a prolonged press of his lips to your temple, before he was nosing gently at the spot. It was far from the first kiss he’d given you today, but this one was different, because it was without anything else hanging over it. No tears, no desperation for comfort, simply a kiss, given in the company of all of your friends as though he had no care about who witnessed it. “What was that for?”

“I was kissing you better.”

#thomas #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #firefighter!tommy #ff!tommy #SAF #smoke and fire #thomas the maze runner #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader

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crystalline1206 · 3 years

Text

The Rifle

Chapter 1 “Kal'Tava”

Title: The Rifle Pairings: Mandalorian x F!Reader Rating: E (for language, sexual situations, No YOUNGLINGS lurking where they shouldn’t) Setting: Before Season 1 (briefly), before Season 2, leading into Season 2 eventually, slower burn. Summary: You always believed that trouble had a knack for finding you… You just never realized what trouble really meant until you met him. — “Why did you help me?” “…You looked like you needed your rifle,” Warnings: Age gap (LATER) Older man/younger woman, explicit sexual scenes and sexual situations leading up to it after chapter 8 Word Count: 1446 A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first story I actually have a plan for! I fell down a deep dark Mandalorian hole and I plan on making a living here. So sit back, relax, and enjoy! If you have any pointers or tips feel free to send them my way, but please, be kind! Banner inspired by @valkblue

This story takes place 10 years before Mando and Baby Yoda leave Nevarro as a clan of 2. I did some quick math and estimated that Din was born around 3251 LY / 26BBY which is a few years before the clone wars and therefore he is around 35 years old when The Child is found in 3286 / 9ABY. All that said, Mando is in his mid 20’s to your teens and any and all romance will be much much later. P.S. Yena is a play on y/n, thought it’d be a clever way to handle that!

Chapter Summary: You never get a second chance to make a first impression

“Did you see the Mandalorian in town?”

Your father couldn’t help but notice you perking up after overhearing your sister’s conversation. He swung around to your work station and gave you a nudge to get you back to work, which you returned in kind at being caught. Sure, Odell and Ravi could stand around and talk while putting merchandise away, but as soon as you so much as tilt your head, you get stuck with the reprimand. You did allow yourself a small bit of pride at being the best out of your siblings with fixing blasters and the occasional landspeeder, but at the cost of being able to walk into the market and gossip with friends, it didn’t seem like all that great of an accomplishment at the moment.

“A Mandalorian? Those are the bounty hunters right? With all the weapons and armor?” You piped up from your little corner as you fiddled with the blaster in your hands, only to have it yanked from your hands as your father towered over you.

“No no no, I know you. You keep your head down and stay out of trouble, Yena. I mean it,” Your eyes crossed as he waved a meaty finger in your face.

“But I—“ Your voice pitched in defense.

”Calm down, Cadri. It’s hard not being curious about new people here, she doesn’t mean anything by it,” Your mother, ever the voice of reason, seemed to understand you teenage curiosity more than the rest of your family.

Your father, however, was strict man, quiet, and kept to himself; all qualities that he “claimed” helped him live through some of the galaxy’s more tumultuous years… Honestly, you thought it had more to do with the fact that you all lived in the shadiest part of the outer rim. Nonetheless, your father strove to instill these qualities into his many children, mostly through manual labor and a lack of free time. Hard to get into trouble when you hardly left the weapons mechanic shop, but you always swore that you never went looking for trouble. Truly, it just always seemed to find you. You always thought it had more to do with being one of the younglings and getting left behind to fend for yourself out of your three sisters and two brothers.

“Oh come on, Baba. I don’t get into trouble!” You exclaimed heatedly.

“Ha! If you lied half as well as you fixed blasters then maybe that would have been more believable,” You heard your sister’s snarky comment from the corner of the store.

“Nobody asked for your opinion, Odell—“ You snapped.

“It’s not an opinion it’s a fact,”

“I’ll show you a fact, when I come over there and kick your a—!” You had already started to get up to lunge towards her when your father tried to intervene.

“Girls! Enough—“

“… Do you carry ammo for Amban rifles?”

Five pairs of eyes turned towards the lone figure that had just stepped through the doorway. Your eyes immediately focused on the T-shaped visor set in smooth silver beskar. Even out here, you and your siblings were all trained to know quality steel when you saw it, what with your family being in weapon and ship repairs. This was your first time seeing real Mandalorian beskar in person though, much less on a real Mandalorian. You knew there had been a Mandalorian in town a few years back but you’d never actually seen him since he worked for gangsters. Your family must have though if the wide eyed looks of your family members were anything to go by, he definitely did cut an intimidating figure.

“… Yes. We don’t have much in stock but we do carry the rounds,” Your father finally broke the tense silence, startling your sister and mother into action as they shuffled over to the stock room.

“I’ll take what you have. How much?” The Mandalorian swung his rifle around to place in front of your father, but something in the movement caught your eye.

“15 wupiupi—“

“Your rifle… it has a short in the barrel,” You vaguely heard your father’s harsh whisper of your name as you tentatively reached for the rifle, “The trigger is loose, and butt of the rifle is worn down as well… probably from the recoil when you fire,”

You looked up and met the empty glare of the T-visor, your breath caught as you realized that you had essentially taken his gun out of his hands and given him unsolicited criticism on the maintenance of said gun to his face— or rather helmet. You knew you were right in your assessment, you’d been working on guns your entire life, but being met with silence made your stomach drop. You resisted the urge to blurt out that you didn’t really know anything, that you were just a stupid 17 year old trying to impress a bounty hunter, when he finally spared you from the embarrassment. After what felt like ages, but was surely only seconds, the Mandalorian inclined his head mildly in your father’s direction.

“How much for the repairs?” If anyone saw your knees buckle, you were glad that they hadn’t mentioned it.

“The repairs and the ammo for 60 wupiupi, no less,”

“Fine. How long for the repairs to be done” At this the Mandalorian turned your way and you nearly choked, was he expecting you to do it?

“Uh-hrm… a-a couple of hours? 3 tops—“

“You’ve got one and a half. I’ll pay half now and half when it’s finished,” he neatly dropped a pouch into your father’s unexpecting hands and walked out. The silence left in his wake was deafening, until…

“ Yena , what have you gotten yourself into? You foolish girl!”

Kriff.

To say that your parents were mortified, terrified, and petrified by the spectacular heights of your audacity and stupidity would have been an understatement. Your father cursed every piece of faulty machinery in the shop as he helped you strip the rifle, and despite your mother’s many exclamations of being at a loss for words, she still proceeded to nearly shriek at you for the next 20 minutes as you scrambled to get your workstation together. All in all, you were nearly to the point of tears and you only had an hour left to fix the damned thing.

“I take back every time I said I didn’t get myself into trouble, you were right, you were all right,” Your mother’s hysterics must have rubbed off on you because you were nearly inconsolable as you tore your station apart for a driver small enough to tighten the trigger to the firing mechanism.

In a moment of clarity, your father finally kicked your mother and sisters out so you could focus, not that it helped much at this point as you glanced at the clock every 5 minutes. After the 5th time you burned yourself with your welder you finally stopped watching the clock and finished up. The short itself was an exposed wire that was messing with the transfer of the Tibanna gas and creating more force than necessary during firing, which resulted in the excessive recoil and a loose trigger. Your father’s store didn’t carry the type of gunstock necessary to replace the worn butt of the Mandalorian’s rifle, so all you could do was clean, reassemble, and call it done. You wiped your brow and looked up at the clock and realized you had actually made it with 3 minutes to spare, sobs of relief nearly melting you out of your chair as you held the rifle reverently to your chest.

“Get down!” You felt the shock of the explosion before you saw the smoke and ran out into the street with the rifle still pressed to your chest.

“What’s going on?!” You managed your pull one of your neighbors towards you from the people running away from the blast.

“That Mandalorian, the-the crew he was with turned on him! It’s a disaster, he’s holed up in a house, they have him pinned cuz he got hurt saving Ravi!” You felt your blood run cold.

The Mandalorian had saved your sister…

The Mandalorian had saved your sister and he had gotten hurt doing it, and now he was trapped in a house getting shot at by his own crewmates.

Your feet began to move before you had even finished thinking of a plan, rushing into the store and grabbing a box of the ammo the Mandalorian had requested. You strapped the gun to your back and rushed out the back door. It was starting to look like trouble was going to be a friend of yours now.

#the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #mando #Mandalorian #the mandolorian fanfic #Mandolorian #mandalorian x reader #mandolorian x reader #reader #reader fanfiction #no y/n

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spilledsinnamontea · 3 years

Text

Do You Have a Membership?

Summary:

Levi went to a convenience store, and he was welcomed by a dazzling cashier. [LH Modern AU]

Words: 2081

A/N: A Oneshot that was Inspired by a real life event that my friend had experienced. It was so funny and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Hence, I want to immortalized their story by turning it into a Levihan fanfiction.

LINK: AO3 / FFNET

DISCLAIMER: Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan belongs to Hajime Isayama.

Levi had visited this gas station a few times before, but he had never bought something from the convenience store. However, one day, when he was driving Isabel to her university, he found himself in needed for gas. At the same time, he had also promised Isabel to buy her snacks for her faculty camping trip. Hence, to save some time, they decided to go to the convenience store after filling his car with gas.

Well, at least, that was the plan. But he should have known that Isabel is far too rebellious for his plan, no matter how simple it is. Because, in a quick motion, Isabel unfastened her seatbelt and went straight to the store, leaving Levi to queue for the gas alone.

Few minutes later, after he got what he needed, he parked the car in front of the small store. From the look of it, the store seemed to be vacant. Levi opened the glass door and heard a bell ring.

"Welcome to Rose Mini Mart!"

Additional voice was heard alongside the ringing of the bell. Levi was quite taken aback by a cheerful greeting that he got, which was a bit jarring from the usual greeting that he got from tired and underpaid retail workers.

Levi threw a quick glance at the cashier and glanced away. However, soon enough he found himself glancing back at the cashier. It was proven to be a bad decision because he locked eyes with the person. In an instant, he glanced away and walked further inside the store, focusing on his task to find a teenager with bright red hair. Fortunately, the store was small, so it was not hard for him to find her. She was standing in an alley that was filled with snacks and candies.

"Jesus, Isabel. Do you want to rob the entire shop?" Levi commented as soon as he saw Isabel—who was trying to fit various selection of potato chips into her hands.

"What do you mean? I just want to be prepared. What if I got lost in a forest?" Isabel replied nonchalantly as she grabbed another bag of potato chips.

"Don't be over dramatic. It's a fake forest, a playground for adults. You have to be stupid enough to get lost in there." Levi took two pairs of potato chip bags from her before putting it back on the rack. "It's only three days, Isa. Just buy what you need."

Isabel pouted and reluctantly put back most of her snacks, muttering under her breath as she did that. Levi insisted that he would not pay if she bought a lot, but Isabel kept persuading him to let her to buy another package. After throwing arguments back and forth, in the end, Isabel's haul consisted of a bag of chips, a bar of chocolate, two cartons of strawberry juice, and a package of dry toasted almond.

"Wow, you got a lot in there." The cashier remarked with a chuckle when Isabel put her snacks on the counter. "You're going somewhere?" She asked Isabel.

Isabel then proceeded to tell the cashier about her faculty camping trip. The cashier nodded to Isabel's story as she took each item and scanned it.

Now that Levi stood near the cashier, he was able to scan her appearance. She was wearing a long black sleeves shirt and a green apron. Her hair was knotted into a messy updo from which a few baby hairs could be seen coming out. She also wore rectangular glasses that sat on top of her roman nose.

There was nothing special with the way she dressed or styled herself. Nevertheless, Levi was somehow captivated by her, and he did not know why or how it happened. Was it because she looked so genuine when she smiled? Was it because the way her auburn hair shines from the sun that peeked through the store window? Was it because her genial attitude toward Isabel? Or was it because she looked—

"Alright, that will be $20.50, sir."

Levi was brought back from his stupor to meet a pair of sweet chocolate eyes. He blinked once as he muttered, "Ah."

"Will that be cash or charge?" She asked.

Levi took his wallet from his pocket and grabbed two pair of 10 dollars bill and a coin. "Cash." He said as he gave her the money.

"Do you have Rose membership?" She inquired when she took the money and count it.

"No."

"Do you have coupons?"

"No."

She nodded, "alright, you paid exactly $20.50 so there will be no change." The cashier clicked a few keys on the keyboard, put the money on the register, and gave him the receipt. "Thank you!" She said with the same smile that never falter since the beginning.

After making sure the receipt was right, Levi took Isabel—who had already put the snacks inside her canvas bag—by the elbow and led her outside.

"See you again." She told them before they left.

•──────✦──────•

Levi started his car and drove his car away from the gas station. However, he found himself lost in a haze of his own mind. He could not even focus to hear Isabel's rambling because his thought was filled with a certain someone. It was strange, because he did not even know her name, but she had caught him by surprised.

Levi thought that maybe it was because he did not expect someone like her to work as a cashier in a gas station convenience store. Granted, nothing is wrong with the job, but Levi had never met a cashier that… that is… that is so…

"LEVI!"

Levi jolted in his seat from the sudden loud voice that came from the girl that seated next to her. He looked on the road, expecting the worst, but luckily nothing happened. For a second, he was scared that they would die or something. After regaining his composure, Levi furrowed his brows at her and exclaimed, "What the fuck, Isabel?"

"I had to scream because you didn't respond!" She said in her usual high voice. However, Levi noticed a hint of urgency on her voice.

Levi sighed and clicked his tongue. "Sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, apology accepted. Now that we have made our peace, I want us to go back to the store."

"Huh?" Levi could not believe her request. He was barely driving for ten minutes, and she already want to go back? Well, it is not like he did not like that idea…

"We need to go back." She repeated as she sat awkwardly on the seat. Her countenance was nothing out of ordinary, but there was a sign on her forehead that said, 'something is definitely not right'.

He narrowed his eyes, scanning her suspiciously. "What do you mean we need—"

"WE NEED TO GO BACK!"

"I HEARD YOU!" He replied in an equally loud manner before lowering it again as he asked, "Why? You forget something?"

"Not really..." Isabel muttered before finally looking at Levi with much seriousness in her face. It was rare for her to make that face, so whatever this thing is, it must be so important. "Okay, listen Levi. I need to buy a tampon."

Levi raised one of his brows. "What? How could you forget something as important as that?"

"Well, I didn't know I got it until now." The words easily flew from her mouth, almost like she just told him about the weather today.

Levi paused before his face finally turned horror as he glanced at Isabel with bewildered eyes. He opened his mouth and asked in a low voice, "… Are you freaking serious?"

"No, it’s a prank."

Silence.

"OF COURSE, IT’S NOT. I'M SERIOUS, LEVI." Isabel grabbed his shoulder to shake him. "That's why we have to go back! Do you want me to—"

"Fuck no!" Levi shook his head in disbelief before looking at her again. "Are you even sure about it?"

"YEAH, I'M SURE! I KNOW MY BODY, OKAY?!"

Levi grunted before finally taking a turn to go back to the gas station. They parted away as soon as they arrived at the gas station. Isabel went to the toilet, walking in slow and painstaking steps. Meanwhile, Levi sprinted and barged into the store, making the bell rang loudly as he did.

"Welcome—Oh, it's you again."

Levi gave her a nod before walking to the personal care aisle and grabbed Isabel's usual choice of brand. He went to the cashier in hurry and immediately pocket his wallet from his pocket.

"You came back." The cashier remarked in a voice that was buoyant and tender.

"Yeah."

She grabbed the package and scanned it. "Oh, seems like your sister forgot this, huh?"

"Yeah—" He answered before furrowing his brows at her. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Deduction, I guess." She chuckled as she took a glance at the monitor. "From the way you two argued over potato chips and dry toasted almond, I knew immediately that you two are siblings."

On one hand, Levi was taken aback, and a little bit impressed by her observation. He and Isabel do not look exactly alike, so there had been some awkward instances where people would mistake them as any other but siblings. Although, on the other hand, Levi was kind of embarrassed by the fact that he and Isabel quarrelled loudly in public.

"Alright, that will be $6.68." She looked back at him with gleam in her eyes. "Will that be cash or charge?"

"Cash" Levi opened his wallet, grabbed two bills, and put it on the casher table before opening the small compartment where he put his coins. Levi then grabbed a few coins and started to count it.

"Do you have Rose membership?"

"No."

"Do you have coupons?"

"No."

"Do you have a partner?"

"No— What?!"

Chink.

Series of metal sound hitting ceramic was heard loudly on the quiet store. Levi stared blankly at his coins that scattered all over the floor. Then, he heard a feminine laughter coming from the cashier. Levi's started to feel his cheek burning from the event. He immediately crouched down and started to collect his coins.

"I'm sorry." She said before leaving the register and went to kneel in front of him. She helped him to grab some of the coins, she even willing to grab the coin that got stuck under the table. He was grateful for her help, but she just could not stop laughing while doing so, and it made him even more self-conscious.

Oddly enough, he was able to let it slide. He just could not find himself angry at her, not when she laughed like that. Her laughter was so sweet, so enchanting, and so addicting. So much so that he let the corners of his mouth lifted for a second.

After making sure that she did not miss any coins, she stood up and returned to her post. A few coins on her hand and she counted it. Then she grabbed the money that he had left on the counter and said, "six dollars…" before showing him the coins that she had on her hand, "…and sixty-eight cents."

“Ah, yeah—" He muttered in a croaky voice, a clear sign that he was being betrayed by his body. He cleared his throat and repeat his sentence in a clearer voice. "Yeah, thank you."

"You're welcome." She giggled and gave him the receipt.

Levi nodded as he took the receipt and the item. He glanced at her and at the door, contemplating on what he should do. In the end, his pathetic self decided to nod at her again before turning his body to the door.

"I'm Hange, by the way." She suddenly told him in a soft voice, almost like she was hesitating to speak it.

Levi halted on his step and returned to look back at her. A subtle flush could be seen on her cheek and Levi had to mentally stopped himself from staring at her like an idiot. He rubbed his nape and said, "Levi."

She was beaming with joy at his response. "Then, see you again…?"

Unlike the one that she said to him and Isabel, this time she voiced it more like a question than a statement. Levi smirked before he walked to the exit and answered, "only if my sister forgot something again."

Well, if there is one thing he knew about Isabel, she tends to forget things.

-fin-

#cha cha real smooooottthhhh #this was fun!!#it's nice to write in a more casual english #tftae is slowly turning me into shakespeare #ngl I went to walmart page to check on the price bcs idk the value of dollar :D #it's been so long since I wrote them in modern AU #levihan #levihan fanfiction #bluemallow

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reidgraygubler · 4 years

Text

hot cocoa & cuddles (spencer reid/reader)

Title: Hot Cocoa and Cuddles Request: no Pairing: Spencer Reid/Gender Neutral!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: swearing (if any), mentions of murder/death, talk about the case Word Count: 4,199 Summary: Reader is freezing while they’re working on a case in Alaska. Spencer has some fun facts about body temperatures and conserving body heat A/N: this is based on episode ‘Exit Wounds’ (ssn 5 ep. 21). nothing too bad, just fluff. i really liked writing this one, made me a softie™. anyways, enjoy! check out my masterlist

{***}{***}{***}

I should have realized just how cold Alaska was going to be when we got on another plane to get to Franklin. Granted, Alaska is cold, and I should have known that before. But still… I’m happy I bought a blanket. And, I’m more than happy that I had the blanket over my lap on the plane. I’m guessing JJ was too, as she was cuddled beside me under my blanket.

“I’m never coming to Alaska again,” I muttered just loud enough for JJ to hear. She laughed and nodded, agreeing with my statement. The pilot of the plane told us all we were about to land and to brace for impact. God this was so much worse than the jet. At least on the jet, I can drink… Here I’m motion sick and miserable.

Since JJ and I were the two smallest, next to Emily and Spencer, we were the first on… Making us the last off. But, let me tell you, I was more than excited to be off the stupid sea-plane and on still ground. It was a little embarrassing when I tumbled out of the plane and into JJ, who in turn tumbled into Spencer.

I was shocked by how cold it actually was. The coolness nipping at the back of my neck, the tip of my nose, and the ends of my ears. I’m sure my ears, nose, and cheeks were starting to turn red because of how cold it was. I’ve been cold since JJ mentioned coming to Alaska, and I just know I’ll never be warm again.

“Holy shit! It’s so freaking cold here!” I looked at the other members of the team. Spencer, who was standing closest to me, looked at me with an amused smile. I hugged my arms around my body to conserve some sort of heat, it was useless. “I’m freezing my tits off,” I spoke, mostly to myself. Emily looked over her shoulder at me with a sly smile, telling me she heard that. I winked at her, my smile being playful.

“Uh here,” Spencer spoke, pulling a hat from his pocket. I looked at it before picking up from his hands. “You tend to lose 7-10% of your body heat from your head.” He looked at me and smiled. I pulled the hat on to my head.

“That… I guess that makes sense,” I shrugged, folding my arms back over my chest. Spencer looked down at me and smiled. “Thanks,” I smiled at him. He nodded, silently returning welcoming me.

Hotch took the lead with the Deputy and Sheriff as he told everyone where to go. I was grateful when he told me to go with David and Spencer to the ME, where I’d be inside, semi-warm. Something about being in Alaska was telling me that I would never be warm again.

“David, can you turn the heat up?” I leaned over the center console and looked at the person driving. David raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at me. “Please, I’m so cold,” I practically begged. He lifted his hand before turning the heat up. I smiled at him as I sat back in my seat.

He pulled into a parking lot for what seemed to be an abandoned gas station but right next to it looked like a doctor’s office. I looked between the two men in front of me before unbuckling and following them out.

“Doc Johnson,” a man spoke up from the porch of the doctor’s office. Spencer and I both looked towards his direction, watching as he stepped down towards us.

I smiled and gave him my name. “And this is SSA David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid,” I smiled and gestured behind me to my colleagues.

“Sheriff asked me to keep everyone on ice till you got here,” the doctor spoke as he led us towards a basement. I looked up at Spencer with a cocked eyebrow. “Still, I can't believe someone from Franklin Would be capable of this.” The doctor’s tone was filled with disdain. I could feel the darkness as we entered the basement. We all stopped right at the feet of the victims.

“What convinced you she was stabbed with the arrow Instead of shot?” I asked through a shudder. I couldn’t tell if it was from the bodies in front of us or if it was the freezing air. Probably a mix of both, to be honest.

{***}{***}{***}

I shuddered as I poured myself hot cocoa. My blanket, which I conveniently packed, was draped over my shoulders like a cape. I could hear Derek and Penelope’s giggles from behind me.

“Smart of you to bring a blanket,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I smiled and looked up at him. He was making himself a cup of coffee.

“The second JJ said we were going to Alaska, I knew I had to get a blanket.” I looked at him and smiled, pulling the blanket around me more. “Still freezing to death though,” I shook my head in disbelief. The ceramic mug was nearly too hot to hold, but I was beyond freezing. It felt nice to not be outside anymore, instead inside. The fire felt good, but I was still cold.

“You’ll warm up,” Spencer laughed as he poured what seemed like an entire thing of sugar in his cup. I raised my eyebrows and nodded.

“You have enough coffee with your sugar?” I asked, bringing my mug to my lips.

“Not sure there’s ever enough,” he shrugged sipping his coffee. I shook my head and turned to sit. He followed behind me, sitting beside me on the couch.

“Garcia, how's it coming with town records,” Hotch asked, looking between Penelope and his case file. I looked at her and fixed my blanket as she tapped away on her laptop.

“I've run everyone who's been printed through CODIS. Nothing's come up so far. I'm gonna pull an all-nighter, finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise,” she nodded, looking up at Hotch with a smile. I yawned as I looked down at my hot cocoa. Derek, who was standing behind me, ruffled my hair and laughed.

“I’ll have to agree with, Honeybee, here. I’m exhausted,” Derek spoke, looking around the room. Everyone else in the room had the same look on their face. A mix of determination for solving the case and finding the unsub, and wanting to pass out from exhaustion. A feeling we’ve all felt before when a case like this goes awry.

“I’ve got four rooms set up for you upstairs,” Carol, the owner of the tavern, spoke as she looked between different agents. I dropped my shoulders, my blanket falling off my body, and looked down at my hot cocoa. It comforted me in a weird way and kept me warm, which I will be internally grateful for.

“Uh, four?” Spencer spoke up, cocking his head to the side. The disappointment and confusion in his tone almost made me laugh. I bit my lips so I wouldn’t let the laugh or smile show.

“Sorry, that’s the best I can do. I mean,” Carol gestured around the room to the 6 FBI agents.

“Your team is nearly double the size of my department,” the sheriff spoke up, his tone unnecessarily rude. I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced a Spencer. He was looking down at the coffee table, his lower lip bit back between his lips. I snickered lightly as I brought my mug to my lips. “Goodnight,” the sheriff added before leaving with the deputy.

“Goodnight,” Hotch nodded towards the sheriff. “Looks like we’ll have to double up,” he added, looking up from the file on his lap. I smirked again and looked around the room.

“I’m not sleepin’ with Reid,” Derek spoke from behind Spencer, Penelope and I. I looked back over my shoulder and smiled, shrugging.

“Dibs,” Penelope spoke as she reached back and grabbed Derek’s arm. I laughed and looked at Spencer, who returned his gaze back to the coffee table.

“I’ll bunk with you,” I whispered as I nudged his shoulder. Spencer blinked as he looked over at me. He smiled shyly and nodded. I turned and looked up at Derek. “It’s not that hard, Worker Bee, sharing a room with Reid,” I looked at him. Derek rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Why don’t we all go and get some rest. We’ll have an early morning,” Hotch stood up, closing his file. I looked down at my hot chocolate and pouted. I’d have to leave the only thing keeping me warm behind to go to bed.

“You can probably bring that with,” Spencer whispered to me before standing up. I looked up at him and shrugged. I was just sad that it’d get cold sooner rather than later and I was in no mood to get cold.

“Yeah, probably could,” I whispered, as I adjusted the blanket back over my shoulders as I stood. I pulled it tighter around my body and followed behind Spencer. Carol handed over the key to the room to me as Spencer grabbed our bags. I smiled at her and looked down at the bronze key with a dark blue room tag.

“Lead the way,” I looked up at Spencer. He nodded before taking the stairs up and towards our bedroom. I fumbled with the room key in my free hand while we walked down the hall. I silently celebrated as I got the key in my hand. Spencer stopped just to the side of the door and allowed me to try and unlock the room.

“You alright?” Spencer asked as I shakily put the key in the lock. I glanced at him and nodded, feeling a shudder go through my body.

“I’ve just been cold since we got here and can’t seem to warm up. Nothing is working,” I pouted, unlocking the door, for real, and pushing it open. “I think I have 3 pairs of socks on. I’m on my third cup of hot chocolate. I’ve got my blanket, sweater, and jacket… And, I’m still freezing.” I pouted as I unlocked the door.

“Did you know the human body will start losing body heat as low as 68 degrees Fahrenheit?” Spencer spoke as we entered our room. “And, since it’s been approximately 34 degrees since we got here,” he added as he carefully placed our bags on the ground, just beside the door. I dropped my shoulders, my blanket once again falling off my body, when I saw it was a single, full-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. “The human body loses about 2% of its heat through air conduction. Although… water causes more heat loss from the body than air does, so heat can be lost from the body very quickly when placed in close water.” He continued to ramble as he grabbed my blanket from the floor. I looked over at him, more annoyed with the single bed than his info-dump. “So, just don’t go swimming or conveniently get pushed into a lake,”

“Spencer,” I kept my eyes on him as he held the blanket between the two of us. I pulled it from his hands and draped it over my arm and cocked my head to the side.

“Was I… Was I rambling again?” he asked, keeping his voice low like he was embarrassed from the amount of information he just gave. I blinked at him slowly and nodded.

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m annoyed,” I spoke, mildly annoyed as I brought my mug to my lips. I turned back and looked at the bed. Spencer followed my eyes and looked at the bed. A small “Oh,” fell from his lips in realization of why I was frustrated. “Rochambeau for the bed?” I glanced at Spencer as he stepped into the room more. He looked at me as he grabbed both bags.

“You can have it,” he smiled as he entered the room. I watched as he placed the two bags on the bed before digging into his. I let out a small sigh of relief and entered the room. I pressed the door shut and turned back to look at him. He had pulled out his pajamas and towels to shower.

“You sure?” I asked, watching as he went towards the bathroom. Spencer stopped in the door frame and turned to look at me. He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll sleep on the floor. Don’t worry about it,” he readjusted the grip on his clothes. I nodded and turned to look at the bed. “I’m going to take a shower real quick.” He jerked his thumb behind him towards the bathroom. I looked back at him and smiled.

“Sounds good,” I nodded. He quietly entered the bathroom, pressing the door shut behind him, leaving me alone in the room. I placed my hot chocolate on the side table before turning back to my luggage bag. I fished for my own pajamas. I really didn’t want to take off my jacket, sweater, and rest of my already warmed clothes. But, I also didn’t want to sleep in jeans.

All well. I’d rather be comfortable and get warmed again than be uncomfortable. So, I quickly changed into my pajamas before slipping between the covers. My teeth were chattering so hard I was worried I’d break them.

45 minutes later, Spencer stepped out of the bathroom. He was shaking his hair through a towel as he walked towards the bed. I glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows. He looked back at me, cocking an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, putting his dirty clothes into his bag. I nodded and swallowed roughly. He smiled, mostly because he knew I was lying. My body was visibly shaking from how cold I was. “You sure?”

“It’s so cold,” I pouted, pulling the blankets tighter. Spencer laughed and looked down at me. I silently cursed myself for not bringing or buying a hot water bottle to keep warm. “I’d do anything to get warm again,” I pouted. Spencer laughed again.

“It’s proven that cuddling is the best way to share body heat,” he spoke, draping his towel over the bathroom door. I sat up and looked at him. “Cuddling naked with your significant other, or even a dog if you’re single,” Spencer started as he made his way back towards me. I glared at him as I pulled my knees to my chest. I watched as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Under a blanket will warm you up faster than a fleece sweater, or sleeping alone with multiple blankets. Apart from being energy-efficient, there may be other added benefits as well,” he finished his info-dump and looked at me. I dropped my shoulders as I stared at him. “What?”

“I’m not sleeping with you, Spencer,” I pointedly stared at him. He opened his mouth to protest but failed to speak when I continued. “Naked or not. I’m not sleeping with you. I’d rather be cold.” I stated. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a lie or not, and I think Spencer couldn't decipher my statement either. Sure, I’d do anything to warm up… But I think cuddling with Spencer is where I draw the line.

“But you sai-”

“Yeah, I know what I said. But, I’m not cuddling with you,” I pulled the blanket back around me as I coiled into the fetal position on the bed. Spencer laughed at me, again for the third time. I glared at him as he stood up.

“Suit yourself then. Enjoy being cold then,” he winked at me, causing me to roll my eyes. I watched, as best as I could, as he pulled the extra bedding from the closet to make a makeshift bed area on the ground beside the bed. “Did you turn the heater up?” He asked. Pfft, did I turn the heater up? What kind of idiot does he think I am?

“No,” I looked anywhere but him, pulling the blanket over my head. I let out a deep sigh as Spencer chuckled. “Listen! All I was thinking about was changing into my pajamas and getting under the covers! I didn’t think about the radiator! Because I was cold!” I half-shouted through the blankets. The bed dipped beside me, telling me Spencer was sitting down. I pouted before pulling my head out of the blankets. “Can I help you? I’m busy?” I glared at him.

“Really? What’s keeping you busy?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. I glared and looked down at my body, under the blankets.

“I’m trying to re-warm myself because it’s damn cold out here!” I half-shouted as I pulled my knees to my chest. Spencer smiled at me before ruffling my hair. “Hey!” I glared at him again.

“Well, I turned the heater up for you. Sleep tight,” he smiled as he shut the light off before laying down in his makeshift bed. I rolled my eyes as I tried to get more comfortable. Granted, it was useless because I was beyond cold. I was freezing. Sleep would never come and I would probably wake up still cold and in a bitter mood. I hate the cold.

{***}{***}{***}

“Alright,” Spencer spoke to the dark room. I furrowed my eyebrows as I rolled to face where he was. I could just barely make out his silhouette in the dark-ish room. “I can’t sleep with the teeth chatter,” he spoke, turning the light on. I let out a groan of protest as the light hit my eyes, nearly blinding me. Great, now I’m mostly blind and cold! I pulled the blanket tighter around me and looked in Spencer’s direction.

“What… What are you do-doing?” I spoke through chattering. Spencer looked at me as he picked up the pile of blankets on the ground.

“Well, assuming you’re still, as you put it earlier today, freezing your tits off, I’m going to change that,” he muttered, pulling the blanket off my body. I widened my eyes and let out a small yelp. The cold was instantly at me. Like needles poking at my exposed skin.

“Spencer!” I half-screeched as he laid down next to me. He was quick though, moving closer beside me as he pulled the covers back over us. “What… Are you mad!?” I turned to look at him, my eyes wide. He reached behind him to shut the light off before wrapping his arms around me. “This isn’t just some way to get in bed with me… Is it?” I asked, not entirely sure if this was real. But, of course, it was in fact real. Spencer Reid just pulled the covers off me and laid down in bed to keep me warm. “Seriously?” I stared at him with wide eyes.

“Seriously. Sharing body heat can keep a person warm,” he looked down at me. I stared at him, this moment entirely too intimate for two friends and co-workers. “I know I’m already warming up,” he shrugged, nuzzling his head into the pillow beneath him.

“Probably has something to do with not being on the floor anymore,” I pointed out, a small smile on my lips. Spencer laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, that probably has something to do with it,” he opened his eyes and looked back at me. He had a small smile on his lips, making me want to laugh.

“We’ll see if your theory is true, Reid,” I looked up at him as I turned around, making it so my back was pressed to his chest. He was careful as he wrapped his arms around my middle, resting right under my chest. His legs suddenly got tangled and mixed up with mine. And, he rested his head right on top of mine. Part of me wanted to hold his hand, but another part was screaming at me and telling me that we should not be cuddling, no matter how warm I was getting.

I exhaled a deep breath, suddenly feeling safer and warmer than before we went to bed. Damn, he wasn’t wrong, I am getting warm. Of course, Spencer Reid isn’t wrong. Bastard is always right… About freaking everything.

“Are you warming up?” Spencer asked, his voice low and filled with sleepy. I smiled softly and nodded. He hummed, clearly pleased with my answer. “Do you want me to go back to the floor?” his tone sounded pitiful.

“No, no you’re fine, Spence,” I whispered, giving up and just grabbing his hand. He hummed again, happy that I’m holding his hand. “I think it’s because of the extra blankets though. Nothing else,” I laughed, taking note in the 4 blankets over our bodies. When should I start to worry about overheating and will that be possible? I sure hope not.

“That’s it? Nothing else?” Spencer mused. It was clear he was suppressing a laugh, which only made me laugh. I smiled and shook my head.

“I think that’s it,” I chuckled and nodded. Spencer let out a breath of air, which tickled the back of my neck. I laughed as I pulled the blanket tighter around me. “We should get some rest, Spencer. Early morning,” I pointed out and repeated with Hotch had said earlier in the day.

“I like your thinking,”

{***}{***}{***}

“How’d you sleep?” Spencer asked as I tied up my shoes. I looked up and shrugged. He was fixing the bed, making it so it was nice when we got back. I’m happy he was awake a while before I was, making it not awkward for either of us to wake up in each other’s arms. He was ready for the day well before I was even awake.

“I slept okay. Crick in my neck though. It’ll go away over time,” I stood up and grabbed my sweater and jacket. I walked back over to Spencer as he was smoothing out the final wrinkle. “But, it was some of the best sleep I’ve gotten in weeks,” I smiled at him. He glanced up at me, a small smile on his lips.

“Did you get too warm? Or… Uh… Were you-” he started to ask but gave up because he was tripping over his words. I chuckled as I pulled my sweater on.

“I was comfortable. Thanks for asking,” I shrugged my jacket on, “Only my toes were cold, but that’s an easier fix than the rest of my body,” I winked at him. I pulled the hat he gave me yesterday out of my pocket and pulled it on my head.

“Yeah! I can complain about that!” Spencer exclaimed as he pulled his own jacket on. I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Does that mean you want me in the bed again tonight?” he asked as we walked towards the door. “Or do you want me back on the floor?” He asked, his voice softer than before. I grabbed my small throw blanket and folded it back up, draping it over my arm.

“Only if you can keep me warm like you did last night,” I smiled as we both left our room. Spencer chuckled and nodded.

“I’m sure I can make that happen,” he whispered as we headed towards the commons room. Everyone, other than Emily, was sitting around the room and drinking coffee.

“What’s got you two all smiley?” Derek half-grumbled as we entered the room. I looked back at him and beamed. Spencer stepped away from me to make himself a coffee.

“Can you make me hot cocoa?” I looked away from Derek and towards Spencer. He smiled and nodded. “Just had a really good night of sleep. Slept like a log,” I looked back at Derek as I took a seat on the couch. I folded my blanket over my knee and waited for Spencer to come back.

“Oh, so Pretty Boy and you are a thing now?” Derek asked. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, he slept on the ground… Just like you,” I smirked at him. Spencer handed me a mug of hot chocolate and I was slightly warm again. “For the first half of the night,” I said the last half under my breath. Spencer glanced at me and shook his head.

“I slept amazing last night. I don’t know about you,” Spencer looked across the room and towards his friend, “The temperature was just right. Not too hot, not too cold,” he added with a small smile. It was my turn to smile and shake my head.

“Hold up, how did you get warm on the floor?” Derek asked, looking at Spencer with disbelief on his face.

“I guess my radiator is better than yours,” he retorted as he sipped his coffee. I looked over at Spencer before sneaking a quick glance at Derek.

“Clearly something happened between you two. When you guys are ready to tell the rest of the class, I’m sure we’ll be delighted to hear,” Derek stated as he crossed his arms over my chest.

Yeah, we’ll just let them think something happened. Because all that actually happened was two friends keeping each other warm. Nothing actually happened.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

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thefinalcinderella · 3 years

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 8 - Winter Comes Again (Part 5)

Hakone finally starts in the next chapter, which is like, 80 pages long

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Kamaboko is a type of fish cake and Odawara is well known for its high quality Kamaboko

2. Zouni is a type of soup that contains rice cakes and is usually eaten on New Year’s Day

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That night, Kiyose was planning to explain the Hakone Ekiden entries as well as hold a drinking party. After training and jogging, the residents gathered one after another in the twins’ room.

Kiyose had gone off somewhere after training. Nico-chan and Jouta were in charge of cooking; they were probably making something to serve as an accompaniment to the drinks. Thinking he should help, Kakeru was just about to leave the twins’ room and go down to the kitchen when his phone rang. It was his home phone number in Sendai.

His parents hadn’t contacted him once since he had moved to Tokyo. He had sent them a postcard with Chikusei-sou’s address, but that was it; just transferring the money for school fees and minimal living expenses into his bank account was enough for him. His parents had wanted him to go to university on a track recommendation because they had had high hopes for their son as a well-mannered track athlete.

When he pressed the button to answer the call, he heard the nostalgic voice of his mother say, “Kakeru?”

“Mm.”

“You were written up in a magazine, weren’t you? We told you so many times not to do anything that would make you stand out. Your father is very angry with you. Are you listening?”

“Mm, sorry.”

“Please put yourself in our shoes, living here. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing for the New Year’s holiday? Are you coming back?”

“No, I’m going to be in Hakone, so I don’t think I have time to come home.”

“Ah, yes,” his mother’s voice took on a distinct note of relief. “Okay, then. Take care.”

Clutching his now-silent phone, Kakeru stood in the middle of the stairs for a while. In a daze, he belatedly noticed Yuki’s presence at the door.

“Oh, sorry,” Yuki said. “I didn’t intend to eavesdrop.”

Yuki was holding a bag from a record store in Shimokitazawa. No matter how busy he got, he never lacked music in his life. “No problem,” Kakeru answered, and walked down the stairs to stand in the hallway with him.

“Was that a call from home?”

“Yes. They got angry at me for standing out.”

“You’re the man of the hour, after all,” Yuki laughed. If it was Yuki, he might be able to tell him—Yuki was so far the only one not happy about being interviewed. He wanted someone to hear out his painful feelings, so Kakeru deliberately confided in him as though it was no big deal.

“I don’t get along well with my parents.”

Yuki was silent for a minute.

“I see. It’s the same for me,” he said. “In my case, I guess you can call it being overprotective. My mom remarried. The guy’s not a bad person, and I have a little sister who’s a lot younger than me, and she’s pretty cute, I guess, but… It bothers me when I’m told 'we’re your new family now' and get fussed over a lot. To be honest, I don’t want to get too close to them.”

“How old is your little sister?”

“Five.”

“Eh, so she’s more than fifteen years younger than you, Yuki-senpai?”

“Yeah. My mom’s doing her best,” Yuki pushed his glasses up as though to say, Good grief. “It’s a given that family members would bother you. You have to not expect too much from them and keep a reasonable distance.”

Yuki walked towards his room—it seemed that he had given his advice. “Okay,” Kakeru answered, and then went to peek in the kitchen, which had been noisy with the sound of running water and pots falling from a short time ago. Then, Yuki returned to the hallway.

“That’s right, Kakeru,” he said. He beckoned him to a corner of the hallway. “When I was coming back, I saw Haiji at Seijo Station.”

Is he doing some shopping? Although it was a station where express trains stopped, Kakeru and the others didn’t go to Seijou that often. If anything, they usually went to Soshigaya-Okura Station, which had a folksy and mixed atmosphere.

“He went into an orthopedics clinic in front of Seijo Station.”

Kakeru jerked in surprise. There was an old scar on Kiyose’s right shin; even after the qualifiers, he had looked like he was having a hard time. Kakeru had completely forgotten about it in the commotion of training and interviews.

“I don’t know much about the injuries of track athletes.” Yuki knitted his brows. “But maybe Kiyose’s isn’t completely healed.”

In any sport, the best athletes all had some sort of injury, and track and field was no exception. Hard training and risk had always gone hand in hand with each other—the more you trained, the sharper and more delicate your body became.

“If he’s seeing a doctor, they’ll stop him if he gets too reckless, so that actually makes me relieved, but…”

“Would Haiji listen to the doctor? Especially at this time.”

That’s true, Kakeru thought. The fact that he had gone to the doctor meant that he must be feeling some kind of discomfort, maybe even distinct pain. Even if he requested a prescription to suppress the pain, Kakeru had a feeling that Kiyose would not listen to the doctor’s advice.

“I understand. I’ll ask Haiji-san later,” Kakeru assured Yuki.

Kiyose returned to Chikusei-sou before they knew it. Kakeru carefully twitched his nose around Kiyose to see if he could smell a poultice, but he couldn’t find any evidence.

“You’re a strange guy.”

That was all Kiyose said to him.

“There’s been a lot going on lately,” Kiyose said, looking around at everyone gathered in the twins’ room. “Well, don’t worry about it. We’ll get our answers through our running.”

“Haiji-san, you’re so cool!”

“’What do you want with our Kurahara?’”

The twins, who had already been drinking, made fun of him. Ever since the incident with the Shinjitsu Weekly reporter, the twins seemed to have recovered their trust in Kiyose.

“The month of November is finally coming to an end. There’s no time left until the Hakone Ekiden,” Kiyose continued, ignoring the twins. “From now on, taking care of your physical condition will be the most important thing; be careful not to get injured at the last minute.”

At the word “injured,” Kakeru couldn’t help but exchange a glance with Yuki.

“Kakeru, explain the entries for Hakone,” Kiyose said, and Kakeru shook off his worries for now. The gazes of the residents, sitting in a circle, were focused on him.

“The first step is to submit the names of up to sixteen people per team to the organizer on December 10,” Kakeru began to explain. “At this stage, who will run which leg will not be revealed. Next, on December 29, it will be the leg entry, where the sixteen runners will be narrowed down to fourteen, and ten of those people will declare which leg they are running. The remaining four will be treated as alternates. Changes in leg entries are allowed on the day of the Hakone Ekiden. The final runners will be announced before the start times of the outward and return trips. However, once a runner is removed from a leg, they cannot be entered into another leg.”

“I don’t get it. What does that mean?” Jouji asked.

Kakeru thought about it a little, then simplified it. “Suppose Rokudou’s Fujioka was entered into the second leg on December 29. This means that Fujioka cannot be assigned the fifth leg in the final entry change on the day of Hakone. If Fujioka isn’t feeling well on the first day, they have no choice but to put one of the four alternates in the second leg, and even if Fujioka recovers on the second day, he wouldn’t be allowed to run.”

“I see.” Musa nodded. “Conversely, if Fujioka-san is one of the four alternates, can we assume that Rokudou will change its entry on the day of Hakone?”

“That’s exactly right,” Kiyose said. “If there’s a strong competitor in the alternate slot, then they are either not feeling well or they plan on changing the entry of an important leg on the morning of the race as a secret weapon. After seeing the entries for each leg on the 29th, each university will consider its strategy and, trying to read their opponent’s mind, unfold a new strategy.”

“We can’t lose focus even right before the start, can we?” King seemed to feel pressured. “But we only have ten people, so that’s got nothing to do with us. We don’t have strategies or anything.”

“It’s true that we will be showing all our cards on the 29th.”

Feeling uneasy, Kakeru looked at Kiyose; Kansei had no alternates, and once they made their entries, it wouldn’t be possible to switch legs. He wanted to know what Kiyose thought about that.

“We’re not the only ones with a small lineup,” Kiyose said calmly. “Changing your entry on the day of the race can be a good or bad thing. After all, sometimes it won’t go well when you’re suddenly asked to run. In fact, there are many schools that have a policy of not changing the leg entries unless there is a serious problem. Knowing that there’s strategy regarding the entries, it’s better to know early on which leg you’re running so that you can prepare.”

“Haiji, have you already decided which legs we’re going to run?” Yuki asked.

“Yeah,” Kiyose said and straightened his posture. “Of course, if you have any objections, we can discuss it, but I think this is the best we can do for now.”

Kiyose took out a memo from his track pants and laid it out in the center of the circle. Everyone leaned in to take a look and let out cries of surprise.

Hakone Outward Journey (Day 1)

First Leg Otemachi to Tsurumi Prince

Second Leg Tsurumi to Totsuka Musa

Third Leg Totsuka to Hiratsuka Jouta

Fourth Leg Hiratsuka to Odawara Jouji

Fifth Leg Odawara to Hakone Shindou

Hakone Return Journey (Day 2)

Sixth Leg Hakone to Odawara Yuki

Seventh Leg Odawara to Hiratsuka Nico-chan

Eighth Leg Hiratsuka to Totsuka King

Ninth Leg Totsuka to Tsurumi Kakeru

Tenth Leg Tsurumi to Otemachi Kiyose

“Me in the second leg? I cannot do it.” Musa was trembling all over. “The second leg is the section for the aces, yes? Why is it not Kakeru then?”

“It’s pretty bold to put Prince-san in the first leg…” Jouji reservedly tilted his head.

Even Prince muttered, “What are you doing throwing the race from the start?”

Kakeru immediately understood what Kiyose was trying to do when he saw the lineup he had planned. Haiji-san is going to try to win the race in the second half. He’s seriously aiming for us to get seeded. No, if the race goes the way Haiji-san thinks it will, it won’t be about seeding—with these placements, we can aim for a much better ranking…!

They were such a weak club that they were in danger of not surviving next year. They were just a bunch of amateurs that had finally managed to crawl up this far, but Kiyose didn’t know the meaning of giving up; he was always looking upward, holding up dreams and goals, and firmly leading the residents of Chikusei-sou. Aiming for the heights of running. Aiming to reach the top of the Hakone Ekiden—the ultimate intermediary between individual and team competitions.

Seeing from the entry form how serious Kiyose was, Kakeru clenched his fists. If he hadn't, he would have gotten so excited that he would have ended up looking like an animal.

“Prince is the only one for the first leg,” Kiyose said gently. “Maybe it’s because you don't have any interest in the 3D world, but you’ve never been scared at the meets or qualifiers; you’re the most suitable person for the first leg, which has the most attention focused on it. You’re also tough enough to have kept up with the training until now even with your very slow times. I’m sure you’ll be able to hold your own in the race.”

He casually said something rude again, Kakeru thought, but Kiyose wasn’t lying about his expectations. Prince must have felt that as well, and a light came into his eyes.

“But in these past few years, the first leg has often been fast paced.” Yuki asked a question based on the data he had collected: “This time too, won’t each school choose a runner for the first leg based on speed?”

“There’s also a chance that it’ll develop at a slow pace in reaction to that. That’s a gamble,” Kiyose readily admitted. “But even if Prince gets separated from the others, he can still make up for it in the first leg. That’s why I chose a solid group of runners for the second to fourth legs, and there’s no one but Shindou who could do the fifth leg’s mountain climb, right? Musa and the twins should be able to steadily make it there.”

“It is too much for me to run in the ace’s leg.” Musa didn’t seem convinced.

“What do you think?” Kiyose turned to Kakeru. “Musa seems to want you to run the second leg.”

“No. I think Musa-san is the perfect fit for it,” Kakeru said with conviction. “Musa-san has been training while pushing aside all sorts of pressures. Even though he never did long-distance before, he can now run ten kilometers in the low 29-minute range. And Musa-san has always encouraged me.”

His effort and personality were second to none. Musa was an ace among aces.

“You are giving me too much credit, Kakeru,” Musa said, embarrassed. But it was unanimously decided that he would run the second leg.

There were no objections to the twins running the third and fourth legs, and they were very enthusiastic about it.

“The third leg is a road that runs along the sea. The scenery’s really nice,” said Jouta.

“Can we buy some kamaboko (1) in Odawara?” said Jouji.

The fifth leg was good with Shindou, but the problem was the sixth leg, which was Yuki’s mountain descent.

“Why am I doing the sixth leg?” Yuki asked Kiyose, looking for an explanation.

“On the trial run the other day, your posture was very stable. Normally, when people run down a steep slope like that, they’d be bent forward,” Kiyose glanced at Yuki’s legs, which were in a cross-legged position. “Also…you have thick legs.”

“What?”

“No, it was a compliment. Anyways, if your legs and loins aren’t solid, the sixth leg is out of the question.”

“It’s like sturdiness is my only good point. You say that, but what would you do if I get hurt?”

“It’s fine, isn’t it? You already passed the bar. You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.”

“Oi oi, that’s irresponsible and cruel…” Nico-chan said, but Yuki was surprisingly calm and said, “You have a point,” accepting Kiyose’s words. If it made sense, he would swallow any cool-headed opinion. It was a method of persuasion that perfectly grasped Yuki’s character, and Kakeru was once again in awe of Kiyose’s ability to manipulate people.

“About Nico-chan-senpai in the seventh leg and King in the eighth leg,” Kiyose continued, “I think that when you get to this part of the route, the runners will start to break up, and there will be times when you’re running by yourself. You won’t be able to see the runners from the other teams in front or behind you. Even in situations like those, both of you will be able to run at your own pace without panicking or becoming careless. The battle to get seeded will intensify, so this is an unassuming but important section.”

“Are we planning on getting seeded?” Jouji nervously asked.

“Of course,” Kiyose decisively stated. “Now, for the last two legs, I entered Kakeru into the ninth leg, which is also called the ace leg of the return trip. As for the anchor, the tenth leg, I’ll be the one responsible for it, as I was the one who said we’re going to the Hakone Ekiden and got you guys involved.”

Kiyose only gave a brief explanation for himself and Kakeru. However, Kakeru thoroughly sensed Kiyose’s feelings for the Hakone Ekiden, and he also knew what kind of running they would have to show in the ninth and tenth legs.

Kakeru looked at Kiyose. Kiyose was silent, then nodded at him.

“That’s all. Are there any questions or thoughts?”

No one raised their hand. Pulled along by Kiyose’s conviction, everyone was finally thinking about the Hakone Ekiden as something concrete, and their fighting spirit was rising.

“Okay. Until the announcement of the entries for the legs on the 29th, what I told you is of course confidential. I want each of you to do your own image training and study the leg you’ll be running.”

Kiyose picked up his cup full of alcohol and said, Let’s drink. “With this team, it’ll definitely turn out well. Twins.”

Jouta and Jouji looked up when they were called.

“I’ll show you the top. No, we’re going to experience it together. Look forward to it.”

Kiyose smiled like a fearless king.

After the drinking party had reached its climax, Kakeru quietly approached Kiyose.

“Haiji-san, your legs aren’t doing well, are they?”

“Why do you ask?” Kiyose gently countered and poured himself another drink. Kakeru was at a loss for words—there was no way Kiyose was going to complain, however doubts swirled in Kakeru’s chest.

Haiji-san told Yuki-senpai, “You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.” Isn’t he really talking about himself? Isn’t he going into this Hakone Ekiden with the resolve that he’s not going to be able to run anymore?

He was scared just thinking about it. Not being able to run was the same as dying for Kakeru. He believed it was the same for Kiyose. And yet, he…

“There’s nothing like what you’re worried about.” Kiyose smiled and spoke, “Come on, you drink too.”

Kakeru couldn’t say anything and drank the alcohol Kiyose served him in one go, full of anxiety. Kiyose was wearing that padded kimono jacket with the frayed cuffs. Soon, Kakeru would have spent all four seasons with the residents of Chikusei-sou.

Kakeru recalled the night he met Kiyose for the first time—the night when everything started.

A strange feeling like nostalgia and longing sprouted in his chest.

---

The residents of Chikusei-sou continued to train wholeheartedly even into December and had a quiet New Year’s Eve together in their rundown apartment.

On New Year’s Eve, they went to a nearby shrine to ring the temple bell, and on New Year’s Day, they ate zouni made by Kiyose. (2)

The tension was building minute by minute, but even that felt good. It was because he wasn’t alone; in Chikusei-sou, Kakeru could feel the presence of the people he had been training and living with.

He wasn’t alone—until he started running.

He had comrades who were always, always, waiting for him to start running, to finish running and to come home.

The ekiden was that sort of sport.

---

At last, it was January 2.

The Hakone Ekiden began.

It was the end of the year-long battle the ten of them had been engaged in. At the same time, it was the beginning of the first and last fierce battle of the ten, which would be handed down as long as there was a Hakone Ekiden.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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heximagines · 3 years

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Ambrose | Choose Your Own Adventure | 1A

{INTRO}

YOU KEPT THE GUN

As you retreat back into your cab to grab a pair of boots and pull them on over your bare feet you eye your gun. Part of you wants to keep it close by just in case but you’d scared the poor guy enough already. After a moment you decide to keep the gun, he’ll just have to understand. You grab your backpack and shove your phone, charger, extra bullets, and a fresh bag of jerky in there. You think you’re all set so you grab your keys to lock up, but just as you’re about to leave one last item catches your eye. You grab it to shove into your bag before clicking the lock and slamming the door shut. You jog up to the strange man’s truck, when you climb in you can tell he’s a bit alarmed by the gun still being in your possession however he seems to brush it off well enough. “It should only take about 10 er 15 minutes to get there.” “Okay sounds good.” You’re a bit nervous to be alone with him but your hand tightened on your weapon and you remind yourself that he seems friendly. “I’m Lester, by the way.” “Oh! Yeah. Sorry, I swear I’m usually not this rude. I’m y/n.” Lester shrugs to himself. “No worries. I met much ruder people out here before.” He throws the truck in drive and sets off back up the road you’d been going down earlier. Your eyes peer out into the dark of the surrounding woods and you struggle to see anything past the tree line. Meanwhile Lester chews his lip nervously and begins to fiddle with the radio trying to get a signal to come in, finally the staticky signal clears up just enough to hear the twang of a country artist. “Oh!” Lester cranks it up. “Ya like Hank Williams Jr?” You give a half smile and shrug, “Can’t say I’ve heard him before.” Lester balks at you, “You ain’t never heard this song?” You lean in and attempt to decipher the crackly words. ‘Hey good lookin’, whatcha got cookin’? How’s about cookin’ somethin’ up with me.’ It sounds maybe a little familiar but nothing you can pinpoint. Lester looks a little disappointed but doesn’t push. Instead he turns it back down a pinch and continues on driving into the night. He drives for what felt almost like too long until the signal cuts out completely. As it does the glimmer of a street light lit up the road making you sit up in your seat. As the truck passes under it the cab is illuminated for just a moment and you turn to look at Lester. He seems much less scary now that you know there is something out here. Finally you roll past a big sign. ‘Welcome to Ambrose, Visit Trudy’s World Famous House of Wax!’ “World famous House of Wax huh?” Lester shifts uncomfortably and he gets an odd look on his face. “Yeah, nothin’ too special.” You giggle to yourself. “Not too special? It’s world famous!” At that Lester gives a little grin.

Once you drive a bit into town you’re greeted by a small gas station with a garage attached. Lester puts the truck in park before checking the time on the stereo. It’s 4:30am. You both shift awkwardly. Lester was pleasant enough to ride with and all but you just want your truck fixed and to get the hell out of there. You both climb out and Lester goes about lowering your truck off of the tow. You wrap your arms around yourself as you watch, trying to keep the now early morning chill from your skin when suddenly you’re startled by a loud voice just behind you. “Lester! What do ya think yer doin’ lettin’ yer friend freeze out here without a jacket?” Lester’s head shoots up and you turn around to see a handsome tall man approaching, you grip your gun just a little tighter as you size the man up. He’s dressed casually in jeans, a T-shirt, and a thick flannel. A faded blue cap covers his head of thick wavy brown hair. There’s a bit of stubble across his sharp jaw. “Oh, hey Bo. I wasn’t expectin’ ya to be up this early.” The man, Bo, pays Lester no mind as he approaches you, taking off his flannel he holds it out to you. You eye him warily and his eyes move down to your weapon. “Seems like you’ve had quite the night. No more need to worry now. Here.” He presses the flannel into your free hand and finally you slip the warm material over your shoulders and pull it around yourself. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” The man grinned down at you. “No problem at all.” He gestures towards your truck which Lester was still unhooking. “What seems to be the problem?” A sour look twists your face as you think back. “The fucking starter is shot. I ripped it out of a junk truck before I came out here and well, you know you get what you pay for.” Bo snorts and nods in agreement. “Well, shouldn’t be too hard to get fixed up. You just let me take a look at it.” Lester finally came to join the two of you with a smile. The men shake hands and Bo claps Lester on the shoulder. “You should go home and get some rest. I got this from here. Your friend is in good hands.” “Sounds good to me. Y/n, hope you make it to New Orleans safe.” Lester did turn out to be a pretty nice guy after all. “I think I’ll be good, thank you.” You give him a little wave as he makes his way back to the tow truck and pulls out of the gas station. Bo turns to you. “Y/n huh? That’s a fine name, I like it. Come with me.” He motions towards the gas station before walking ahead, leaving you to sling your bag over your shoulder and follow after him.

He unlocks the door and holds it open for you to enter. As you slip past you catch a whiff of his cologne, the same spicy scent that clung to his flannel, tinged with motor oil and something metallic that made your skin prickle. You glance at him to see he’s smiling at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He seems nice but something in your gut is telling you to keep your guard up. Just because a guy is good looking didn’t mean he was trustworthy. As you enter your eyes sweep across the fully stocked shelves. “Not a lot of business?” You look back at the man, he only shrugs at you. “It’s a small town, ain’t too hard to stay stocked.” You watch as he moves to lock the door and your nerves flair. “What are you doing?” His hand pauses and he looks over at you with that same friendly smile. “We don’t open until 7:30. Still a lil early.” You shift uncomfortably. “Well I’ll wait outside then.” Bo shakes his head. “You don’t gotta do that. Tell ya what. I’ll work on your truck with the garage open if it makes ya feel better.” You chew on that thought for a second before finally nodding. “Cool, I’ll wait out there while you open the garage then.” You slip past him and out the door, going to stand by your truck Lester had parked just outside the garage. Quietly Bo chuckles to himself and locks the door, you were going to be fun for him.

You’re still standing in place when Bo opens up the garage, a lit cigarette now dangling from his lips. “It’s gonna take some time, you wanna grab a seat?” Your eyes shift between Bo and the clock. The time was now 6am. With your sleep having been interrupted you wouldn’t mind a moment to rest. But you also had to leave as soon as your truck was done and you were afraid that if you slept now you’d be too groggy to drive later. “When does that wax museum open?” Bo perks up a bit at that. “Depends. The guy who makes all the figures keeps odd hours, so your guess is good as mine. You could go check it out if ya wanted. If it ain’t open now it probably will be soon. Doubt you’re allowed to bring that in though.” He gestures vaguely to your weapon with his cigarette. You give a short laugh and your face flushes a bit. “Can’t be too cautious these days.” Bo seems to nod in understanding. “Well it’s up to you, if you wanna stay then stay. You wanna go, museum is just up that way.” He points up the road. “Can’t miss it.” With that he sets off to get working on swapping out your starter. Your eyes rove over Bo’s broad shoulders before darting to the road just outside the shop.

GO TO THE WAX MUSEUM

Sounds like a good way to kill time

STAY AT THE GARAGE

Get some rest and talk with Bo

#house of wax #ambrose cyoa #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x reader

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samdeancass · 4 years

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SuperWolf

Requested by: @kikikittykis

Pairing: Scott x reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Characters: Y/N, Dean, Sam, Scott, Stiles, Derek

Description: Supernatural/Teen wolf Crossover!

"So, there have been multiple reports of murders going on in a town called Beacon Hills in central California. I think we should check it out."

Dean was sitting across from Sam, legs crossed over each other on the table and nursing a whiskey. "Murders, OK. But what makes this our sort of thing. Murders happen in small towns all the time."

Sam leaned in closer to the laptop screen and read through the article again. "It says that there were claw marks left on some of the bodies. Others were left completely mangled. I'd say that would definitely make this our sort of thing."

Dean sat upright in his chair and placed his whiskey on the table. "I don't know, Sammy. Sound just like a normal animal attack to me. I don't want to go all the way to Cali just to find out that animals have been munching on people. It just doesn't seem worth it to me."

Sam closed the laptop lid abruptly and got up from the table. "We've travelled further on less, Dean. I've got a feeling about this one. Go and get Y/N. We're leaving in 10." Sam walked away from the table and towards his room, leaving Dean sitting at the table. "Why am I always the one to get her? He knows that she hates leaving before having something to eat. She's gonna bite my fucking head off." Dean stood up from the table and made his way to your room, giving three quiet taps on the door.

You were sat upright on your bed, pillows supporting your back. Your stomach was beginning to rumble and you were about to get food when the knocks sounded at your door. "Come in!". The green eyed hunter entered your room with a sheepish look on his face. "Y/N/N, Sam's found us a case. Multiple mangled bodies in Cali. We're leaving in 10."

You groaned in response and slammed your book down on your bed. "Come on, seriously! How does this always happen when I'm going to get something to eat?! Fine, I'll be ready in 5." Dean quickly closed his door and made his way to his room, muttering under his breath how he's gonna get Sam back.

The journey to California was long and tiring. Sam and Dean were constantly bickering with each other which made you want to pull your hair out. You stopped at a few gas stations and filled the hungry void in your stomach which improved your mood a little. You all checked into a motel and began to research what the culprit could be.

"It seems like all of the murders are happening around the high school. We need somebody to go undercover and try to find out some information." Sam was sat at the table, huddled over a map. Dean looked at you as Sam finished his sentence, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Nope. No way. No fucking way, guys. I'm not going back to school. You've got no chance." You shook your head violently, completely refusing. "I had a terrible time at school. Why don't you guys do it?"

Sam and Dean smiled at each other. "Oh yeah, ok. I'm sure two fully grown men would be allowed to attend a high school, Y/N. C'mon, it'll only be until we've found what the hell this son of a bitch is and then we'll be gone." Sam flashed you his puppy dog eyes which immediately melted you.

"Fine!" You crossed your arms over your chest and sulked a little. "Sam, you really need to stop using those eyes, it's not very fair." He walked over to you and engulfed you into a bear hug, which immediately lifted your mood. "You know you love me." "Yeah, whatever. Let's get me registered so I can get this over and done with."

Scott and Stiles were walking down the hallway, whispering between themselves. "And what are you two girls whispering about?" They both stopped short when they seen Derek standing 2 feet in front of them, arms crossed and a smug smile plastered onto his face.

"What makes you think that we're acting like girls? Just because we whisper a lot and keep secrets doesn't mean we're acting - yep we're acting like girls." A red blush rose on Stiles' cheeks as he turned away from Derek, clearly embarrassed.

"What are you doing here, Derek? I thought you were staying away from us?" Scott gave Derek a questioning glare before delving into the depths of his locker to find his school books. "I need your help, Scott. Another body has been found and it looks like it was a wolf kill. We need to try and find whoever is doing this and stop them before we attract unwanted attention."

Scott turned around and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Derek tried to get his attention but failed so he decided to see what, or who, Scott was looking at.

Far across in the corner of the hallway, you were stuffing your useless school books in to your locker whilst talking on the phone to Dean. "This is absolutely pointless, I'm not going to find anything here, Dean." "How do you know that? You haven't even tried yet." You could practically hear the eye roll in his voice and huffed in response. "I swear, if this ends up wasting my time, Winchester, I'm gonna beat your ass."

You heard muffled laughter from the other side of the phone and hung up, internally screaming. You turned around and began to walk up the hallway to your 'class' when you felt two pairs of eyes on you. You turned around to confront these people but stopped dead in your tracks, a slight blush creeping onto your face.

"She's noticed you, McCall. Go and say something! We can talk about our wolf problem later." Scott growled a little when Derek pushed him towards you, eyes flashing red in his direction. Derek held his hands up and pulled Stiles away by his ear to stop him from eavesdropping. "Hey! Why does he always get the girls?!"

Scott shuffled forward slowly towards you, anxiety wrecking his body. He hadn't felt like this about a girl since Allison, and with what happened to her, he was a little hesitant to even think about dating another girl. You let out a breath to calm your nerves as he walked towards you.

Scott shuffled the remaining distance between you two and glanced up at you shyly. A blush rose up on your cheeks under Scott's stare. You cleared your throat quietly and began to speak.

"Hey, I'm Y/N L/N. I'm new here." You held out your hand and Scott took it, shaking it. "I'm Scott McCall, lovely to meet you. Maybe, if you wanted, I could show you around the town? There's a diner in town that sells the best milkshakes." You thought for a second before nodding your head. "That would be great, thank you." Scott led you out of the school entrance and made your way towards the diner.

"What the hell is she doing in there? She's supposed to be undercover, not going on dates!" Dean was sitting behind the wheel of the Impala, nostrils flaring in anger.

Dean and Sam had followed you to the restaurant so they could make sure you were safe.

"Is it the fact that she's not investigating or that she's with a boy?" Sam looked at his brother accusingly, knowing what the answer was.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but soon closed it when he seen you and Scott leaving the restaurant. You spotted the jet black 67 chevy in the parking lot and rolled your eyes inwardly. You turned to Scott and pressed a kiss to his cheek before saying goodbye and making your way towards the car. Both of the brothers braced themselves when you said into the backseat.

"What are you two doing here? I was investigating." You sat in the back with your arms crossed over your chest in frustration. You heard Dean take a deep breath before turning around to confront you.

"Yeah, it sure looked like investigating. What was that kiss you gave him? Looks to me like you were on a date! That's not what we're here to do!" Sam could tell Dean's anger was getting the better of him so he decided to step in.

"I think what Dean's trying to say is, don't get distracted. This job is very important and we don't want to get side tracked." Sam gave you a small smile before placing a hand on Dean's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

You nodded in understanding. "I know that, but I really was investigating. I was seeing if Scott knew anything about the attacks that was going on, but he didn't."

You were lucky that the brothers didn't have any telekinetic abilities to read minds because at this point they knew that you were lying. Sure, you were investigating but Scott had told you something very important and you didn't want the Winchesters to know because you knew how they would react.

"Scott? Is that his name? Kinda young for you don't ya think?" You gave Dean a slap to the back of the head. "So what? It's not like you've been able to hit on anything older than you." Sam sniggered at your reply whilst you sat back smugly.

Dean cleared his throat before getting to the root of why they were in Beacon Hills. "Well, I know you didn't find out anything about this wolf, but me and Sammy did. We're going to head out tonight to catch this son if a bitch so we should be home by morning."

Your eyes went wide. You hadn't expected them to narrow down their search so quickly. You couldn't let them hunt down this wolf, at any cost. "And what exactly did you find out? Surely its not trustworthy?"

At the other side of the parking lot, Scott was standing next to his motorbike, listening in to your conversation. Anger grew in his body. "She's a hunter?! Why didn't she tell me?"

His eyes turned red before getting on his bike and riding away before he could hear the rest of the conversation.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and began to laugh. "Whats with all the questions, Y/N? You usually don't need anything trustworthy to hunt down monsters?!"

You shrugged in response. "I don't know, I guess its just a little too quick for my liking. Can we maybe sit on this for a little whilst we delve into the situation some more?" The brothers shook their head in confusion before turning back to the front of the car. "Alright, just one night though. Then we're definitely going to hunt it down."

You and the brothers parted ways for the night and checked into your own rooms. Immediately, you threw your bags down on the floor and pulled out your phone, dialling Scott's number.

The dialling tone rang for a few seconds before Scott picked up. "What?" Your face contorted in confusion at Scott's aggressive manner. "Woah, what's the matter with you?"

You could hear Scott's breathing becoming more heavy on the other side of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were a hunter and you were hunting one if my kind?!"

Dread filled your whole body as you sat down on the bed in an attempt to stabilise yourself. "You weren't supposed to find out about that. I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to protect you. Other hunters aren't like me, they don't sympathise like I do."

Scott's breathing began to slow down a little as he processed the new information. "You should have told me, I would have understood. But please, leave this situation to us, we've got this handled. It'll be sorted by the end of the night."

You and Scott carried on the conversation for a few more minutes before hanging up. You lay back on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Loud bangs on the door awoke you the next morning. You groaned at few loudness and swore inwardly at the people who dared wake you. You opened the door and found the Winchesters smiling widely at you.

"What do you want? Don't you know its rude to wake up a woman?" You walked slowly back into your room before flouncing back down on the bed.

"Good morning to you to". Dean walked in and grumbled slightly under his breath before you narrowing your eyes at him in response. "Turns out, it was just a wolf that was killing people. The cops found it this morning."

You sat up straight and stared at Sam. "Really?" Sam nodded in response as Dean took a seat at the table. "I told you it was a waste if time travelling down here, that it was just a normal animal attack. But did you listen to me? Nooooo."

Sam shook his head at Dean's childish actions. "Me and Dean have already checked out. We'll be waiting for you in the car when you're ready."

You gathered your belongings together after getting dressed and headed out to the Impala, handing in your keys at the desk after.

"Guys, can we please make a stop at the high school first. I need to say goodbye to Scott." Dean rolled his eyes in the mirror and began to place his foot down harder on the accelerator.

You had texted Scott to tell him you were on your way. He was waiting outside the school when the Impala pulled up. You got out of the car and walked towards him.

"Thank you for stalling them, Y/N. We managed to catch the wolf before they did anymore damage. I'm so sorry I was angry at you, I should be used to things like that by now."

You placed a warm hand on Scott's face which he leaned in to. "You don't have to say sorry. You had a right to be worried, given what you are. So thank you for catching whoever it was before those two got their hands on it."

Scott laughed in response. "So I guess this is goodbye then?" You nodded. "For now, yes. But I'll be back to visit my favourite werewolf."

Scott blushed at this before crashing his lips on yours in a passionate goodbye. After a few seconds, you both parted away from each other. He kissed your hands before you walked away.

"I'll text and call you, OK?" Scott nodded before waving goodbye and heading back into the school.

You slid into the backseat of the car when the brothers turned to face you, smug smiles on their faces.

"Looks like somebody's found someone she likes."

"Just drive you idiot."

You smiled to yourself and began counting down the days you'll be back in Beacon Hills.

#supernatural #supernatural fandom #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #spn #spn fandom #spn family #supernatural/teen wolf crossover #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #derek hale

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spurgie-cousin · 3 years

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WHW In Memoriam: Unarmed, Murdered Black Americans from History

(Content Warning: Violence, murder, abuse, racism)

So this is definitely not the same kind of ‘weird’ history I usually post about (and it’s not Wednesday quite yet), but in light of the George Floyd verdict I thought it was important to take a moment to remember some of the unarmed, murdered black Americans throughout our history, most of whom have never received justice. Whether their lives were taken by the police or violent, racist vigilantes, their memories should always be a reminder that though we’ve come a long way, we still have a long, long way to go.

This is in no way a comprehensive list, in fact I start at Emmett Till because the *known* lynchings pre-1955 are too numerous to include in one, two, ten posts. I know I will not have room to include even everyone post 1955 (god there are so many) but please know that all of them, from the unknown to the infamous, from our country’s beginning to today, matter the same.

“History, despite it’s wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.” - Maya Angelou

1. Emmett Louis Till

Born: July 25, 1941, Chicago, IL Died: August 28, 1955, Money, MS

Emmett Till was a 14 year-old child from Chicago visiting relatives over his summer break in August of 1955. Unfamiliar with the strictly racist social codes in the American south, he spoke to a white woman at a grocery store, and was accused of flirting with her. A few nights later her husband and his brother abducted Till, brutally beat and mutilated him, and then shot him before letting his body sink into a river. When he was found, his body was barely recognizable even to his mother.

In an act of grief and defiance, his mother held a highly-publicized, open casket funeral to show the brutality of what had happened to her child to the world.

It’s believed that before her death, Carolyn Bryant, the woman from the grocery store, recanted key details from her original story, including that Till whistled or flirted with her.

2. James Earl Chaney

Born: May 30, 1943, Meridian, Mississippi Died: June 21, 1964, Philadelphia, Mississippi

James Chaney was a 21 year old field/social worker working for Congress of Racial Equality (CORE). He was murdered along with two colleagues, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner, by the Ku Klux Klan while they were in Mississippi investigating the burning of a church. The 3 were pulled over by a patrol car being followed by 2 cars full of Klan members, who shot Goodman and Schwerner, beat Chaney, and then shot him 3 times.

3. Michael Donald

Born: July 24, 1961, Mobile, Alabama Died: March 21, 1981, Mobile, Alabama

Michael Donald was a 20 year-old who on March 21st, 1981 was walking down the street after purchasing cigarettes for his sister. He was chosen at random by a car full of Ku Klux Klan members, angry that a recent Klan members court case had been declared a mistrial. He was beat, hung, and his throat was slit, and was left hanging dead from a tree in a secluded, wooded area.

Three Klansmen were convicted of Donald's murder. Henry Hays was sentenced to death and executed in the electric chair in 1997. James Knowles and Benjamin Cox were sentenced to life in prison. A civil suit against the United Klans of America caused their bankruptcy.

4. Yusef Kirriem Hawkins

Born: March 19, 1973, Brooklyn, NY Died: August 23, 1989, Brooklyn, NY

Yusef Hawkins was a 16-year-old black teenager who was shot to death on August 23, 1989, in Bensonhurst, a predominantly Italian-American working-class neighborhood in the New York City borough of Brooklyn. Hawkins, his younger brother, and two friends were attacked by a crowd of 10 to 30 white youths, with at least seven of them wielding baseball bats. One, armed with a handgun, shot Hawkins twice in the chest, killing him. Hawkins and his brother were in the neighborhood to inquire about a used car.

5. Nicholas Heyward Jr.

Born: August 26th, 1981 Died: September 27th, 1994

13-year-old Nicholas Heyward Jr. was playing cops and robbers inside the stairwell of a Brooklyn apartment building when officer Brian George mistook the boy’s toy gun for a real gun and shot him in the stomach, killing him.

6. Amadou Diallo

Born: September 2, 1975, Liberia Died: February 4, 1999, NYC, New York

In the early morning of February 4, Diallo was standing near his building after returning from a meal. At about 12:40 a.m., officers Edward McMellon, Sean Carroll, Kenneth Boss and Richard Murphy were looking for an alleged serial rapist in the Soundview section of the Bronx. While driving down Wheeler Avenue, the police officer stopped his unidentified car and interrogated Diallo, who was in front of his apartment. When they ordered Diallo to show his hands, he supposedly ran into the apartment and reached into his pocket to show his wallet. Soon afterwards the four officers fired 41 shots with semi-automatic pistols, fatally hitting Diallo 19 times. Eye witness Sherrie Elliott stated that the police continued to shoot even though Diallo is already down and that McMellon is still shooting even though he is lying on the ground.

7. Kendra Sarie James

Born: December 24, 1981 Died: May 5, 2003, Portland, Oregon

21-year-old Kendra Sarie James was shot and killed by Portland Officer Scott McCollister when she attempted to flee a traffic stop for a minor violation. Portland police initially said it appeared the car had run over the officer's foot but he did not receive medical attention at the scene or at Northeast Precinct. Police repeatedly refused to identify the alleged traffic violation that caused them to stop James and two companions in the car. Police had taken the driver out of the car and was checking his identity when they saw James slide into the Chevrolet’s driver’s seat. Both officers, while standing on the driver’s side of the car, struggled with James to stop her from driving away. One of them fired a taser gun at her to subdue her. McCollister fired a single round from his 9 mm service pistol at James, killing her.

8. Deaunta T. Farrow

Born: September 7, 1994, West Memphis, Arkansas Died: June 22, 2007, West Memphis, Arkansas

On the night of his death, Deaunta Farrow was walking with his 14-year-old cousin from Farrow’s home to the nearby Steeplechase Apartments where Nash lived. Along the way the two made a stop at a gas station where they purchased soda pop and chips from the station’s convenience store, and continued down the street. Farrow and Nash turned up the street leading to Nash’s apartment. At that point two undercover West Memphis police officers, Jimmy Evans and Sammis, who were on a stakeout in a narcotics investigation, appeared from a nearby dumpster. According to some eyewitnesses, the two police officers confronted the young men and soon afterwards Sammis, noticed something bulging in the 12-year-old’s coat pocket. As Farrow removed the item, Sammis shot and killed him.

9. Rekia Boyd

Born: November 5, 1989, Chicago, IL Died: March 21, 2012

On the night of her death, Rekia Boyd was hanging out with friends at Douglas Park on Chicago’s West Side at a party listening to music while having a few drinks. Around 1:00 am, Boyd and some of her friends walked to a nearby liquor store. Around the same time, officer Dante Servin was just finishing his shift on his second job. He was off duty, heading to a fast food restaurant for a hamburger, but Servin drove to Douglas Park after a citizen called police about a noise complaint. Servin saw Boyd and her friends and later claimed they were arguing in an alley. Whether Servin calmly approached Boyd and her friends or was rude and aggressive is still debated. One of Boyd’s friends, Antonio Cross, claimed that Servin attempted to buy drugs from the group. When Cross told Servin to “get his crackhead ass out of here,” Servin pulled a gun, stuck it out of the window of his car and fired into the group, hitting Boyd in the head. She was instantly killed.

10. Eric Garner

Born: September 15, 1970, NYC, New York Died: July 17, 2014, NYC, New York

On July 17th, 2014, NYPD officers approached Eric Garner on suspicion of selling single cigarettes from packs without tax stamps. After Garner told the police that he was tired of being harassed and that he was not selling cigarettes, the officers attempted to arrest Garner. When Pantaleo placed his hands on Garner, Garner pulled his arms away. Pantaleo then placed his arm around Garner's neck and wrestled him to the ground. With multiple officers pinning him down, Garner repeated the words "I can't breathe" 11 times while lying face down on the sidewalk. After Garner lost consciousness, he remained lying on the sidewalk for seven minutes while the officers waited for an ambulance to arrive. Garner was pronounced dead at an area hospital approximately one hour later.

11. Breonna Taylor

Born: June 5, 1993, Grand Rapids, Michigan Died: March 13, 2020, Louisville, Kentucky

A narcotics investigation regarding suspected drug dealer Jamarcus Glover, led detectives to Breonna Taylor’s residence in the South End. Glover was a previous acquaintance of Taylor and she was under suspicion for using her home to his receive mail, hide his drugs, and stash money earned from his drug sales. Taylor, who was 26, at the time, lived in a Springfield Drive apartment with her 27-year-old boyfriend Kenneth Walker. Taylor and Walker were asleep in bed, on the night of March 13, 2020, when they were awakened by a loud banging at the front door. Taylor called out, asking who was there, but heard no response. Walker, a licensed and registered gun owner, armed himself and headed towards the front door, when it suddenly came off its hinges.

Under a “no-knock” search warrant, Louisville Metro Police Department Sgt. Jonathan Mattingly, Detective Brett Hankinson, and Officer Myles Cosgrove, all in plainclothes, stormed into the apartment. Taylor’s boyfriend Walker, thinking this was a home invasion robbery, fired one shot in self-defense. Sgt. Mattingly was hit in the leg, and in response, the other officers opened fire, releasing more than twenty rounds into the apartment. Taylor was shot eight times and collapsed in the hallway of her apartment. She was pronounced dead at the scene.

12. Daunte Demetrius Wright

Died: April 11, 2021 (20 years old)

On April 11 of this year, Daunte Demetrius Wright was fatally shot by police officer Kimberly Ann Potter during a traffic stop and attempted arrest for an outstanding arrest warrant in Brooklyn Center, Minnesota. After a brief struggle with officers, Wright was shot at close range by Potter, who had confused her gun with her taser. Officers pulled Wright out of his car and administered CPR, but were unsuccessful, and he was pronounced dead at the scene.

#murder tw #lynching tw #violence tw #violence #murder #weird history wednesday #whw #racism #racism tw #abuse tw #george floyd #blm #black lives matter #history #not fundie related

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i-donot-forget · 3 years

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4 Days

My Candy Love - Love Life

Eric - Candy/Sucrette - Nathaniel

Words 2373

Spoilers Ep 12 - 13

So I was thinking about the days between the kiss with Eric and our date four days later, but from his perspective.

I don't speak english very well, so this is like 90% google translate

DAY 0

I ran away like a coward after what I had done, what was I thinking? How did I let it happen? But they weren't my imaginations, she reciprocated, right? The more I tried to remember the details of that slip, my mind could only think of one thing, her and the softness of her lips, steal her breath, her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks despite my misdeed, I couldn't help but smile because the reality was more delicious than anything I had imagined.

The loneliness of my apartment took me out of my reverie, now I had to deal with the consequences of my actions, the only question was when? surely as soon as she got home she would tell him how I took advantage of the situation, maybe Nathaniel was on his way here right now to beat me up, which I deserve anyway ...

I still felt the light touch of her perfume on me and it was driving me crazy, I went to take a cold shower with the horrible sensation of hearing a knock on the door, a product of my tormented imagination. I could not think and I had no one to talk to, I was going around the place like a caged lion, I looked at the clock again helpless when I saw that even time was making fun of me, I changed with the idea that there was only one thing that could distract me now, go for a run. I was going fast, lost in my thoughts with the uncomfortable feeling that I was being followed, stopped at a traffic light I was left blank when I saw a blond guy in a white jacket on the other side of the sidewalk, I knew it was not him and even so I could not take my eyes off him until I was 100% sure, I trotted past him receiving the smoke from his cigar fully on my face, By the time I got to the other side of the street, I needed a cigarette more than I needed oxygen. 7 years in the trash, I thought as I ripped off the plastic and opened the box, that first puff was the only thing that managed to calm me down a bit and before I knew it I was on the second.

I walked home calmer or the fact that my head was spinning absorbed some of my attention but when I closed the door the adrenaline and excitement had passed, now I was on the floor, I saw the time and resigned that tonight I could not sleep I dropped into the chair in front of the table that was overflowing with reports, I opened the laptop and gave myself to the escape who had rescued me from Melissa for the last year and there I could see an e-mail from Ben that I should have checked that afternoon if I wouldn't have been in such a rush to get to a certain cafe at 8pm.

DAY 1

By the time the sun rose I could no longer bear the thought of not knowing what to expect, so I called Nathaniel against my logic and common sense, put the phone on speakerphone, and put it on the table as I clung to the wood tightly. Each ringtone fed my paranoia. I expected the worst, screams, insults, threats, at the very least, and then he answered, I stammered incoherencies until I realized that he didn't know, she hadn't told him… yet. I told him about the information Ben had sent me feeling slightly relieved, I hung up the phone calmer but not better, this secret was a time bomb and I felt like garbage.

I froze as I tightened the doorknob, because by inertia my feet would take me straight to the Cozy Bear, like every morning before work and every afternoon at closing time, but I couldn't go back there like nothing else, I was a criminal returning to the scene of the crime simply couldn't break into her space after what had happened, not without her authorization. I walked towards the station in the company of a cigarette and for some reason I could not remember when was the last time I had done this, I was tense, distracted, I could not concentrate even on the simplest idea my mind was restless and I simply could not ignore the why, I would have to look at his face and act like every day, I had to be convincing and it felt horrible. I hesitated before entering and after crossing the entrance I stopped for a few seconds to look inside, searching quickly, I took a deep breath out of inertia thinking I still had a few minutes left.

- I am glad I am not the only one who is affected by the investigation . -

A friendly slap on my shoulder caused me an exaggerated start but Nathaniel passed by directly to the Chief's office, I saw how he stopped at the threshold, looked at me and gestured for me to enter. I explained the progress in the investigation with few details until our superior resumed the meeting, luckily without a field operation on the agenda I could keep my distance without raising suspicions. The day was eternal and tortuous but it was already after 10 o'clock at night when I went to vent to the gym, 3 hours later I was at home, another night awake.

DAY 2

- It is the second day you arrive smelling of cigarettes instead of coffee. I believed that with age your habits would improve, not worsen. Is the wisdom of old age a myth? -

Nathaniel joked as the sound of his fists on the punching bag filled the air, I set the dumbbell I was lifting on the ground before giving him a look.

- Yes, yes, I want to see in what condition you will be when you are my age, young man. -

- But seriously, two days without coffee? That's a record, the Cozy Bear will go broke without you. -

- Yes, well I'm changing the coffee for the gym. With the whole move in I realized that I am not in such good shape. -

- Have you already adapted to your new apartment? -

- I finally have a bedside lamp so even though I don't have a TV, or real china, I was able to finish the last book you recommended. -

- Great. Did you start something new? -

- Yes, in fact I'm already halfway there... it's something different, more suspense with some science fiction. -

- Boring… -

- Whatever you say... to tell the truth... I had discussed it with... Candy. -

- Oh yeah? -

- Yes, now that I think about it... she asked me for the reference, I saved an article from the internet with several titles of the same style. -

- Would you send it to her? will you do me a favor. -

- Sure, mmmh I don't have her number. -

- My phone is in my jacket, the pass is 4444. -

- Don't you know her number by heart? -

- Mmmm no. -

Upon unlocking the screen, the background photo was like a kick in the stomach, it was her with a beaming smile, which I did not remember ever seeing, I imagine that smile is only for him. I looked for the contact, "Honey" of course ... I sent it and put the phone quickly as if it burned in my hands.

I avoided the excused lunch with an imaginary date with a divorce lawyer, I drove through the city with no clear destination, away from those streets where by any chance of life I could come across her, I parked at a gas station when it became apparent that no matter how long I was behind the wheel I would not find the right words and finally I called her, dial tone and after a few minutes, mailbox. Come on again, she must be tending the cafe after all. Second try, back to the mailbox, this is more difficult than I thought. What if she doesn't want to answer me? No, how could she know it's me, maybe she has my number. But what nonsense are you saying? Of course she doesn't have your number, let's go once again the third time's the charm. And I was defeated, after the third attempt I did not have the courage to call again and the uncertainty began to fill my head, I drove back to the station with a thousand ideas going through my head and in all of them I am the villain.

I was collapsed on the desk in my office after the afternoon meeting when the phone rang, seeing her name on the screen made my heart race, I closed the blind on the door window and I hesitated for a moment before locking with key.

- Hello, Candy? Thanks for calling me back. I think we should talk ... -

- Eric? I don’t remember giving you my number. -

Yes ... I simply continue to deceive Nath to calm this uncertainty that is killing me, I continued to accumulate crimes and although I believed that I was prepared to face the consequences, I was surprised at myself, at what I was willing to do to find out.

- Ahem... I asked Nath for it. I told him I wanted to share the name of the book we had talked about with you but… we both know that’s not the reason. I wanted for us to talk... about what happened between us, the other night. -

- And ... You couldn't have just stopped by? On the phone, it's a bit ... -

- I agree! But I wasn't sure that you wanted to see me. Well, anyway… -

- Okay, well, you know where to find me, right? I don't close before 8, if you haven’t forgotten… -

- Well ... I'm busy today... And tomorrow. I thought…… Maybe we can get a drink together in two days? I promise, it won't take long. -

- Uh… Okey, see you after tomorrow, then! -

When she hung up I felt that the world was turning again, that everything had stopped just with her voice, in the middle of all this a part of me was glad to hear her again. Little by little the plea that had almost stuttered became clearer,she could still hate me, disown me and want me as far as possible from her life. Maybe that was what I deserved, maybe that was for the best.

That night I slept fitfully waking up with a start until dawn, a single nightmare repeated itself in a loop, she laughing in my face for having been so stupid as to believe that there was something between us, that I was mistaken her sympathy for interest and I don't know how I could even dream of her leaving him for… for someone like me.

DAY 3

Jogging accompanied by the morning dew helped me wake up after not resting, somehow a choppy night's sleep was more harmful than a sleepless night, this lack was beginning to take its toll and it was already more than evident in my face that I was not having a good day. Today I would have a little field operation, nothing more to watch in case I saw anything suspicious, although I definitely couldn't see anything if I could barely keep my eyes open.

I hadn't been able to escape lunch today and Nath had already been staring at me for a couple of minutes.

- Everything is fine? -

Hearing that question aloud I hesitated, as if I was no longer physically capable of following this lie, I thought of confessing everything to him, not just the kiss, but this forbidden feeling that I had allowed myself to cultivate, how traitorous and scoundrel I was, but then I thought about her, and how I couldn't take away from her what belonged to her by right, if someone had to be the great antagonist it was me, the only one who would have to pay for deception and lies.

- Yes ... Although I think my attempt to give up coffee for something healthier is ironically killing me, I think I'll go back to my old habits. -

- Take care Eric, I still need you around for a while, someone has to stick up for this department. -

Who would say that words could cause physical pain felt like his words were digging into my back and blocking my throat. I could only smile. Sitting alone in an incognito vehicle my mind was blank, no, not blank really an idea had been fixed in my head as a clue that appears after rereading for the tenth time ... I could not, I simply could not do that to Nath, this had all been a huge mistake, a confusing and totally out of place situation, and it had to end as soon as possible.

That night I couldn't sleep either, I spent the hours thinking about her, saying goodbye in some way to the moments that I had collected in my memory, I had kept this absurd fantasy for too long and I couldn't continue lying to myself.

DAY 4

This morning I was calm, despite being the day of our meeting, but perhaps it was not tranquility but resignation, today the suspense ended, this story that should never have existed ended.

The hours passed quickly because I had already made a decision, if I wanted to end this forever there should be no doubt, I had to tell her absolutely everything, so when she rejects me and denies each and every one of my hopes, I could turn off that light that still wants to see her, that not even the fact that she is with someone else has been able to extinguish, it must be her and it must be brutal.

I was surprised at how quickly the orange glow of the evening began to creep in through my office window, it seemed that after all I did not really want to go to my “date”. My discouragement was turning into nervousness with each step I took, by the time I realized I was outside the cafe.

And then I saw you through the window and I smiled without being able to contain myself because only when I saw you did I realize that I missed you and that I had not liked spending so many days without seeing you and that everything even seemed a little brighter...

Oh… Shit, I'm really screwed...

#MCL #mclll #mcl fanfic #mcl eric #my english is shit

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harrystyleswatermelon-sugar · 4 years

Text

Gas station encounter - Part VI

Part V

“What, no? I would never…no” I can see that he doesn’t believe me and sigh. We walk back to the elevator and before the elevator comes up, I face him. I gather a lot of my braveness and ask:

“Why are you bothered by him? He is a nice guy, absolute son-in-law-material” he snorts not very elegant and shoots me a glance.

“Just want to be sure you choose the right one” he shrugs his shoulders and steps into the elevator.

“And you think you know, who the right one is? Great, show me I am waiting for forever to find him” I reply sarcastically and add:

“Oh wait, maybe you should find yourself someone first because you are unsuccessful with it as well” his eyes are full of hurt and I feel bad because of my harsh words.

“You are right, I am not in the position to judge who you are dating” he agrees and now I feel even worse. He walks straight past me when we arrive downstairs and leaves the hospital. It is still snowing and I follow him, finally getting a hold of his arm. He tries to shake my hand off, but it only glides downwards and I take his hand, holding him back and trying to turn him around, so we face each other.

“Wait. Look, I am sorry. I didn’t mean that…I just hate it, when someone wants to tell me what´s good for me. And I am not interested in Phil, absolutely not” I assure him and he sighs, entwining our fingers a bit more.

“It´s okay and you are right. I can´t find someone who stays with me for more than a year, who am I to give you any tips?” his eyes find mine and we look at each other for a few seconds.

“I want your tips and I want your opinion. You are the most important person I have at this point in my life. And honestly, all those models are stupid for leaving you” he grins and pulls me closer.

“I missed you…are you coming home with me?” he asks and I nod. We haven’t had an evening together for ages. Hand in hand we walk back to his car and I am glad that we fixed our argument. At his house, we both change into some comfy clothes and he makes some tea while I tug myself into the blanket on his couch.

“And I?” he asks and I lift the fabric, so he can slide right next to me under the cover. I lean my head against his shoulder and he pulls me close, one arm around my shoulders. We sit there for a long time, not saying anything and I love that it is not awkward.

“All those men are idiots, who are not hitting on you” he mumbles and I lift my head.

“What?”

“You heard me…they are idiots. You are the best that could happen to any man” he says a bit louder and turns his head to look at me.

“I was honestly jealous today, when he looked at you with those hungry eyes and his hands all over you” I can hear, that he means it and I remember his hurt expression back in the hospital.

“His hands were not all over me, H. We are colleagues” I remind him and he laughs dryly.

“He is hitting on you, don’t you see it?” I shake my head and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

“What has a man to do, so you see that he is hitting on you?” he asks laughing and I bite my lip.

“Probably I wouldn’t notice it until he kisses me…” I shrug my shoulders and feel his soft touch on my cheek. He cups it with his big hand and I look up into his mesmerizing green eyes. I have never seen such beautiful green eyes anywhere else than with him.

“I would have punched him if he did that” I giggle and shake my head lightly.

“You should be happy when I finally find someone”

“Only if he is a good guy. Oh, my mom says hi and she invited us, you and me, over for Christmas if you´d like” he suggests out of the blue and I am a bit startled. I haven’t even met his mom in real life. I only joined a facetime session once.

“Erm…honestly I can´t I would love to but…” I reply and yes, I really would love to. He looks a bit sad but he nods.

“I understand, you have your own routine at Christmas. It´s okay” he smiles and I turn, to face him fully.

“Look, Dr Seymour has a family and Dr Sally worked last year on Christmas so this year it´s my turn. I´m sorry, I am free from the 26th to New Year though” I hope he understands what I want to say but I don’t have to worry. He smiles widely and nods.

“Great then how about coming up to Cheshire later? I mean if you want, it´s some time we both are free” he gets a bit nervous and I giggle, slapping his arm.

“Of course I want that. I will jump right in my car and come to Cheshire” he hugs me and I smile into his neck.

Korrigiert

The Christmas days are very quiet in the hospital, we usually allow the kids to go home. Only the very sick patients have to stay and I always hope that no one dies during those days, it would ruin Christmas for the whole family forever, but this year I am not lucky. A little boy dies and I have to be there only half a day before I want to go to Cheshire. Maybe it is not a good time to make a 4-hour drive. I call Harry when I have a bit time but he convinces me to come nevertheless and he promises to be there for me and make everything less bad.

When I finally get there around 10 pm I am fucking tired and annoyed. I stop in the driveway and take a deep breath. Anne's home looks lovely, everything is white and the house is decorated festively. The windows are light up and I can see Gemma and Anne in the kitchen.

I calm down a bit and grab my suitcase. As I put my stuff into my bag and lean into my car I can hear the front door open.

I smile at Harry and walk towards him. He steps outside in simple jeans and a T-Shirt.

“Hello there, ´s nice to see you. Merry Christmas” he says and hugs me tight. I sigh as I feel his warmth radiating against me and rest my head on his shoulder. I notice that his accent got a bit thicker, probably because they all talk like this.

“Hi, Merry Christmas to you, too” I reply and look up into his beautiful eyes.

“Are you okay? Or do I need to cheer you up before we get inside?” he asks a bit worried but I shake my head. Being here and with him already made the pain better.

“It´s okay. I am shy anyway, you know that. Let´s get in before you turn to ice” he laughs and takes my suitcase.

In the living room, I meet his mom. She is smiling so friendly that I don´t feel unwelcome or weird here at all.

“Mom, this is Y/N. This is my mom” he introduces us and Anne takes my extended hand.

“It´s so nice to finally meet you. Please call me Anne and feel completely at home. I can´t wait to show you Harrys baby pictures so you can annoy him with them” we laugh and my heart grows very heavy. I suddenly turn a bit sad, because I don´t have such a great family who is proud of me and supports me. I am all alone.

Gemma hugs me and hands me a glass of wine. We salute each other and Gemma tells Anne the story of how we met.

During dinner I watch them interact and try to get as much information as possible. I can feel the love in this house and I can see how proud Anne is of her kids and how much Harry adores his family. They mock each other but in a loving way and I love seeing it. Being part of it.

We clean everything up and while Harry and Gemma try to figure out, what we are doing now, I stay behind with Anne in her kitchen.

“You are a doctor? He told me about your job and I can´t imagine how hard this job must be” she asks and I nod.

“Yes, I graduated 2 years ago and I love my job and those kids. He probably told you that I try to not bond with other people…which seems odd because it was so easy with H” I laugh and she hands me a glass of wine.

“He is a sweetheart, I would doubt your heart if you could have resisted him in any way. How old are you?”

“I´ll turn 28 next February. You raised him right, you really got two gems there. Oh, by the way, thank you so much for inviting me over, I have a present for you” I remember and she laughs as I get her the present. I bought an expensive and very good bottle of wine and hand her the present.

“Oh honey, that wouldn’t have been necessary. But thank you, come ´ere” she hugs me and I am glad I chose the right gift.

“Mom, Y/N we want to watch a movie, are you coming?” I hear Harry from the living room and Anne and I smile at each other.

“I like you very much, it´s a bit of a disappointment that you are friends. Why can´t he bring someone like you as a partner” she sighs and I giggle a bit.

The siblings are sitting on the couch and Harry pulls me next to him while Anne and Gemma chat a bit and the intro of the film starts.

“I hope she was nice to you” he whispers and I look at him. The resemblance between him and Anne is enormous and I nod.

“I like her, now I know why you are who you are” he laughs a bit and kisses my forehead as I relax into his side.

I must have fallen asleep during the film because I wake up to quiet voices. I feel Harry's arm hugging me tight and I think I am lying half on top of his chest.

“Maybe we should wake her so she can go to bed, she is exhausted” Gemma suggests and Anne agrees.

“No, it doesn’t bother me that she sleeps. As long as we are awake she can stay right there” Harry replies and I sigh lifting my head.

“I´m awake but bed sounds good,” I say and rub my eyes. Harry pushes some of my hair out of my face and smiles at me.

“I´ll show you, come on” I wave goodnight to the ladies and stumble behind Harry.

“This is my room and yours is right next to it” he gestures as we are upstairs. He shows me the bathrooms and then leads me back to my room.

“I am so glad that you came, you can´t imagine,” he says as I sit on the bed.

“Me too. Tomorrow you could show me around town” I suggest and he agrees happily. I yawn and grab my sleeping clothes.

“Goodnight, Y/N. You can come over anytime, okay? See you tomorrow morning bright and smiley” I laugh and throw my arms around his neck.

“See you tomorrow” I reply and kiss his cheek, before he leaves me alone.

The next morning when I get downstairs Harry is already awake and sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and his phone.

“Good morning, love. Slept well?” he asks and I sit down next to him.

“Yes, can I get one cup of this too?” I ask and point to his coffee.

“Sure, mugs are up there and the coffee machine is easy to handle, I show you” he hands me a mug and shows me how to handle the machine. When we sit back at the table I feel him staring at me.

“What? You have seen me in the morning with no make-up” I say and touch my hair a bit irritated. Maybe I look weird. He chuckles and takes my hand. Usually, his fingers are full of rings but this morning they are clean and empty.

“I did. And I can´t get enough of it, you are so pretty” he bites his lip as if didn’t plan on saying that.

“Thank you, H” I squeeze his hand lightly and chuckle a bit.

“Mom said we behave like a couple and she is right…in some way. Guess you are the closest I have to a soulmate” we smile and I shake my head.

“Don’t worry, it´s the same with you for me. What about breakfast? Shall we make some for everybody?” I suggest and he nods.

“Absolutely. What about your delicious pancakes and will try myself on some beans and toast, traditional English?” he asks and I get up, pulling my hand out of his.

“Sounds delicious but you don’t try. You just do, because you are a great cook. That’s why you always cook when we have a sleepover” he laughs and gets the ingredients out of the cupboard.

I mix everything and watch him fiddling with the can opener for the beans. When the first pancakes are cooking I take the can opener from him and help him, he frowns.

“I feel stupid” he laughs and I wink at him.

“Well Mr Superstar, if you can´t even open a can…I´m joking, I´m joking” I giggle and try to scoot away from his hands but he pokes my sides and tickles me.

“You are mean” he scowls and I can´t stop laughing, patting my hand behind me on the kitchen to find the flour. I stick my whole hand in it and he raises an eyebrow because he can´t see what´s happening behind my back.

“What are you doing with your-“ he gets cut off when I smear my flour-covered hand right across his face. The expression of shock on his face makes me laugh even more and before I catch my breath he rubs his face against mine and shares the flour with me. I dug away and see him cleaning his face in the sink while I flip the pancake.

“I hate you,” he says and I chuckle.

“No, you love me” I reply and his green eyes shoot over to my face. “I- I mean- like a friend. Best friend” he nods very slowly and I am glad to hear someone coming down the stairs.

“Good morning early birds,” Anne says and smiles at us. She walks over to Harry, who is still looking at me with an expression, I can´t really read and hugs him.

“Morning, my favourite son” she smiles and kisses his cheek.

“Morning mum” he replies and turns his gaze to his mum.

“Morning Anne. I hope you like pancakes” she smiles and nods, while she makes herself some coffee.

We have a kind of quiet breakfast until the others wake up and join and I get a lot of compliments for my pancakes. Harry and I don´t really talk much but I hope everything´s fine between us. I mean, why shouldn’t it be?

Hello guys, here it is, a new chapter of my latest work. While I have to wait for my COVID-19 test results I have a lot of free time and being home again after 2 weeks of holidays is so boring. Hopefully I am back at work at monday.

Stay safe everybody.

Love, Julia xx

Taglist: @wotamelonsugar @lanallaa @highladyofelfhame-remastered @lucky-worm @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @nibabyy @magnificentbonkfarmlover

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles smut #Harry Styles Imagine #Harry Styles FF #Harry Styles blurb #Harry Styles Oneshot #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles fluff #1d #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction imagine #one direction oneshot #1dff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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lisaleigh713 · 3 years

Text

Followed and Fucked

A throwback to July of this year. With all this CV19, I was going a little stir crazy and frankly needed to get out. I could have my groceries delivered and most everything online but could not get wine. So I decided to throw caution to the wind and go out to my local liquor store and get some wine to hopefully hold me for a bit.

Never go out without dressing for any possible interaction. I dressed in a short black tight fitting skirt, a white see-through blouse, 5 inch peep toe pumps and left my hair down. My eyes were a smokey grey and my lips a deep, wet crimson red. My manicure and pedicure were both a deep red.

I picked up my wine, Merlot, and realized I was low on gas. But I noticed a couple of men sitting in their car at the store are now following me to the gas station a mile down the road. I pulled in to the station, got out of my car and began filling up with gas. The car following me pulled in on the other side of the gas pump. Two men get out. I should say two gods got out.

Both men were black as the night and over 6 ft. tall. Both were extremely fit and smelled incredible. I have fucked a few black men but always within a group of other white or hispanic men. I knew when they got out of their car and looked at me I was going to fucked today.

One of these gods walked over to me, pulled something from his pocket, told me to open my mouth and with his thick fingers forced a pill down my throat. Later found out the pill was ecstasy. My pussy was dripping and my ass was gripping the large plug in my ass. I was actually squirming thinking about getting fucked by these two gods.

This man looked me in the eyes then forced his mouth on me. His tongue dancing around my mouth and tongue. To be honest, I went limp and he had to hold me up with his strong arms. He walked me to the passenger side of my car and put me in the seat. He drove my car while his friend drove theirs back to their place about 2 miles away.

He opened my door and helped me out. We all walked into their house. It was well decorated and very clean. I sat on the couch and one of the men handed me a glass of wine. I said thank you and began drinking it. Both men sat on each side of me and the one on my right, he drove me car, began undressing me. They stood me up and finished taking every piece of clothing I had on off. I asked them to leave my shoes on as I love getting fucked in my heels.

One turned me towards him and began kissing me passionately. My hand slid down to find his cock hard. The second man was behind me rubbing my ass and pussy. I think my plug turned him on some. My other hand slid back and found his cock, I was not disappointed. Both men were huge at over 9 inches and thick. I knew this was going to be a challenge but it would be worth it.

One picked me up and carried me to the bedroom where there was a king size bed. My god they smelled incredible. Before getting on the bed, I got on my knees and began sucking their cocks. It took some doing, but I got those cocks in my mouth and down my throat. They were surprised when I went all the way down and began licking their balls. To say it drove them a little crazy is an understatement.

Each one began throat fucking me which was good in that it lubed up those enormous cocks for what they were about to do to me. The one who drove me forced me onto my hands and knees then he moved in behind me. He removed the plug from my ass while rubbing my clit. I tried to brace for what I knew was coming but there is no bracing or preparing for that big of a cock.

I wasn’t sure if we was going to fuck my pussy first or my ass and I really didn’t care, I just wanted that cock in me. He was good as gold, he placed the head of his cock against my ass, so now I knew what he wanted. I removed my mouth for the other guys cock, looked over my right shoulder, smiled and winked at him. He slammed that huge hard cock so deep I felt his balls slap my swollen clit.

The other god, yanked my head around and slammed his cock down my throat, so all I could do was let out a muffled scream of ecstasy. I felt like an accordion. Both men were thrusting in me at the same time and pulling out of me at the same time. I was in pure heaven as they were going at the same time.

After about 10 minutes I began cumming which caused my ass to tighten up on his cock making me cum even more. I still could only offer a muffled scream as the other cock was still in my throat. The one fucking my ass quickly pulled all the way out and slammed it my dripping wet pussy. He pounded my pussy for a long time and then he stopped. He and the other god high fived each other and then switched.

Now the one who was in my throat slams his cock in to my ass and the one fucking me now has his cock down my throat. The exchanged places one more time after about 30 minutes and then what I was hoping for but dreading at the same time; one in my ass and one in my pussy.

I was excited to see if I could make them cum and please them but hesitant also because I knew these two would split me in twane. I crawled upon ones cock in my pussy facing him and the other moved behind and slid his cock in my ass. Both pumping hard and fast. I came so much, I lost track of time and the number of times I came.

I was exhausted and worn out. The god I was facing began kissing me deeply and passionately. I love being kissed like this. They went about another 30 minutes and both came in an explosive ending. The one in my ass put my plug back in after he pulled out keeping his love juice deep inside me. I allowed the cum to spill from my pussy into my hand which I quickly lapped up and swallowed.

All three of us collapsed on the bed, my head swimming, what we call cock drunk. I couldn’t even form a sentence or single out a thought. After about 20 minutes I got up, dressed and walked out of their house with some cum still dripping down my legs.

I got in my car and drove home. When I got home I made it into my house and collapsed on my bed. I slowly removed my clothes but kept my heels on. I was a hot mess. I was completely satisfied.

I ran into those guys again about a month later and they fucked me again raw. I may have to run into them again soon.

Love and Kisses!!!

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myhauntedsalem · 3 years

Photo

Truckers Share True Ghost Stories from the Road

Truckers log thousands of hours behind the wheel and encounter everything from bad weather and treacherous conditions to careless drivers and fatal accidents. However, sometimes even truckers are shocked by what they see on the road.

The Guardian Angel

“In the late 80’s, Michigan had I-94 west of Detroit all torn up as they were completely replacing the roadbed.

I was going into Detroit about 2 a.m., driving in the construction zone, when I saw this heavy-set elderly lady in a rain coat standing behind her car in the construction zone waving her arms for me to stop. I had almost passed the elderly lady when I saw her and couldn’t stop. So I turned around at the next exit and circled back and pulled up behind the broken down car with my four-ways on.

Two heads popped up from behind the seats and a young guy came back to the truck. I told him to get everyone out of the car and I would take them to a gas station where they could get some help. He got his wife from the car and they got into my truck and shut the passenger door.

I looked at them and said, ‘Is that everybody? Where is the elderly lady?’ The couple looked puzzled and asked what I was talking about. So I told them the story of the elderly lady flagging me done and described her to the couple.

Immediately the woman burst into tears and said that she had heard that guardian angels look like deceased relatives. She went on to explain that her grandmother had passed away earlier that year and I had just described her grandmother to a ‘T.’

This story still gives me goose bumps thinking about it all these years later. I can’t wait to meet that elderly lady someday. I did something right that night, for once in my life.”

The Man on Jensen Road

“It was about 3 a.m., and I was west bound on Jensen Road in Fresno, CA, just before the residential area. I had slowed to about 40 mph when out of nowhere appeared this freakishly tall figure of a man in a black, buttoned up trench coat and a round, black sombrero standing on the white line of the two lane road. He must have been at least 6’7″ or 7’0 tall. My partner and I watched and he didn’t even flinch as the rig passed by. I swear, the side mirrors must have missed his head by only a couple of inches. My partner and I looked at each other with our eyes wide open and screamed ‘Did you see that?! What the fuck was that?’. I swear our skin crawled and we were both in a kind of shock. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for a couple days.”

Knock, Knock

“Last week, I had just left Gallup, NM and was driving west on I-40 near Holbrook, AZ when I heard a KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, two times, on the side of my sleeper. It was very loud and distinct…like ONE, TWO, THREE, and then it repeated once more shorty after that. I had the radio off and was alone in the rig. Honestly, I thought ‘KEEP DRIVING!’ was the best thing to do. When I got to Holbrook, I stopped for a break but was too freaked to get out and go look. The next day, I walked around the cab and was looking at the cat walk.

There is no way a human being could have been hiding back there, at 3 a.m., in 10 degree freezing winter weather, going 70 mph, without anyone noticing.

I LOGGED THIS ONE AS UNEXPLAINED!”

Ghost Rider

“I was driving to work around 3:30 in the morning on a back road in Mississippi near the Louisiana line. I was probably going about 35 or so, as it was raining and the road is a winding with no lines or anything. It’s dangerous enough in daylight under normal conditions. Anyway, I’m driving along and suddenly this jet black horse just flies out of the woods on a side trail. There was a rider decked out in a black cloak with a hood and everything. The horse must have been blasting at full speed, and the rider’s cloak was just whipping in the wind. They must’ve ran for 1/4 mile or so and then darted off down another side trail and disappeared into the darkness. A buddy was riding with me and I looked over at him, and he looked over at me, and we both said something along the lines of ‘Did you fucking see that?!’.”

A Child’s Cries

“I was driving at night when I heard an odd grinding noise, like I had run over something that got stuck. It was about 2 a.m., so I pulled into well-lit rest stop and woke up my buddy. I explained it to him, and as we got out of the car, we heard what sounded like a kid crying. There were no other cars at the rest stop, but we frequently heard stories about child trafficking and kidnapping, so we decided to check it out. We grabbed our flashlights and headed towards the noise, which was coming from the bathrooms.

As we get closer, we realized it was coming from the women’s bathroom. It was a low, dull sobbing. We prepared for the worst and walked in expecting to see a brutally beaten or raped 8 year old or something, but there was nobody inside.

The sound was still there, it was still clearly coming from the room, but the room was empty. We turned on the lights but still found nothing. We checked each stall, the trash can. Nothing. We even started looking for WHERE in the room it was coming from – nothing. We wondered, is it a hidden speaker? Are we on candid camera?

My buddy climbed up one of the stalls to get to the top window in the rest stop which was vented out and open. He closed it, and the noise stopped.

Completely. He opened it, and there was no more noise. We sat there for a few seconds, staring at each other. He shrugged. Then the window slammed shut again without him touching it.

We were out of that fucking bathroom in seconds. The noise started up about 10 seconds later, and we tore out of the parking lot. The grinding noise was still there. So this time I pulled over a few miles later at a Flying J Truck Stop, one that was well-lit and occupied. We checked and saw a red and silver piece of metal wedged underneath. We couldn’t remove it by hand as it was really wedged in there, so we kicked at the metal to bend it and figure we’d remove it when we got back.

A week later, I had my mechanic take it out when he was doing a service – it was part of a kid’s tricycle, the red area where somebody can stand. That was one of those moments for me. Totally crazy.

#Truckers Share True Ghost Stories from the Road #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

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hyperion-huntress · 3 years

Text

Holiday in Handcuffs

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358268#main

Pairing: Destiel

Words: 6160

Tags: AU, fluff, artist!Cas, kidnapping, Christmas time, mistletoe kisses.

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:

When the mystery man came out and went to walk past Castiel his eyes widened when Castiel stepped in the way.

“Can I help you?”

Castiel almost felt bad as he pulled the coat back enough to show the end of the gun. “You’re going to come with me. Peacefully and quietly, or I’ll shoot you.”

The man didn’t looked scared at all as he looked from the gun to Castiel’s face, just calm, and for a moment Castiel was terrified he wouldn’t listen but then he gave a slight nod and walked to the doors.

Tuesday was when things began to fall apart, at work he had several different people yell at him for bringing him the wrong thing even though he’s sure two of the people did order it then just didn’t like it. He had went home to find out that his ancient microwave finally hit the dust. After eating his cold, three day old Chinese take out he decided to finally try to finish his painting.

He almost did too, he was just adding the final finishing touches of dark gray and light green when he tripped and sent his paint right into the middle of his canvas. In the scramble to get it off with the least damage possible he ended up tripping a second time and falling, the canvas getting torn in the process.

If Tuesday was bad, Wednesday was downright awful. He had went to talk to the local gallery about putting some of his work in but was denied because his landscape work didn’t fit in with the other, mostly unrealistic, pieces they were featuring. At work he dropped hot soup on himself and burned a large portion of his arms and chest. Not to mention the moment he finished putting on his new shirt his brother called him to remind him about Christmas at the family cabin.

“You won’t be late again this year, will you?”

Castiel let out a large sigh as he leaned against the employees bathroom counter. “I’ll be on time. 7 PM, sharp.”

“That’s what you said last year. And Castiel?” Lucifer asked.

“What?” Castiel huffed, already irritated with his eldest brother.

“It’s 6.” He said dryly, going on before Castiel had a chance to respond. “And you’re bringing someone this year aren’t you? You usually don’t but we had hoped you finally met someone who… Can take care of you, this year.”

“I can take care of myself, Lucifer.” Castiel snapped out, pushing away from the counter sharply. “I don’t need anyone to support me.”

Lucifer gave him a long suffering sigh. “You’re a waiter, Castiel.”

“I’m also an artist.” He put in quickly as he left the bathroom, sick of his family ignoring it or referring to it as a childhood hobby he hadn’t grown out of yet.

“Anyways, you’re the only one of us who hasn’t brought anyone home. Mother and father are starting to get worried, you know. Not only that you won’t ever find anyone but that you’re, you know, hiding your sexuality from your family.”

“I’m bringing someone home.” Castiel said, just wanting to put an end to this as he looked around, eyes locking on a man. “But.. It is a man.” He said, waiting for a snide comment that never came.

“What’s his name?”

“You’ll find out with the rest of the family.” He stated as he watched the man walk across the room, headed past him and to the bathrooms.

“Honestly, Castiel-” And that’s when Castiel hung up, already knowing that the condescending tone would only leave him more angry.

Suddenly, he knew what he had to do and he took off the stupid elf hat the owner made them wear and went over to grab his coat, pulling the handgun out from the inside pocket and hiding it under his coat as he headed towards the bathroom.

When the mystery man came out and went to walk past Castiel his eyes widened when Castiel stepped in the way.

“Can I help you?”

Castiel almost felt bad as he pulled the coat back enough to show the end of the gun. “You’re going to come with me. Peacefully and quietly, or I’ll shoot you.”

Castiel followed, feeling like he was in a daze, miles away from the current situation. He was suddenly brought back when the man slipped on a patch of ice and came down on the ground with a harsh sound.

Holding his breath, Castiel leaned over him and once he saw he was simply passed out he pocketed the gun and threw it in his old rust bucket of a car with his coat before working the man into the passenger's seat.

Utilizing this time, he grabbed his tie and took it off, wrapping it around the man’s eyes as a blindfold for later. Once it was knotted in the back he went rummaging around for the gag gift his cousin Gabriel had given him for his last birthday.

He plucked the pink, fuzzy handcuffs up with a slight smile before putting them on his temporary victim. The rational part of him was yelling and telling him he couldn’t do this and to let him go. The larger part of him though was telling him that he could make this work and please his family for once in his life and after the few days at the cabin he could let the man go and everyone would go back to their normal lives.

Once Castiel had buckled the both of them in he began the two hour drive north to his family’s cabin, structures getting more and more scarce as he drove until there were only buildings every 15 or so minutes.

He had stopped an hour in to get gas and pick up some snacks when the man finally woke up, jerking as he tried to asses the situation.

Castiel looked over to him as he pulled out of the gas station. “Sorry.” Was the first thing out of his mouth.

“Sorry.” The man echoed, turning in his general direction. “What the hell is going on?”

“Here.” He said, reaching over and pulling at his tie until it dropped around the man’s neck. “Better?”

“Not really.” He said, staring at Castiel’ before looking out the window. “Are you taking me out in the middle of nowhere to kill me? You some sort of serial killer?”

Castiel frowned at him. “What? No. I just.. Listen, you’re going to come with me to my family’s cabin and pretend to be my boyfriend.” He explained simply.

The man just stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re fuckin’ crazy. I’ve been kidnapped by a psychopath.” He said, not able to believe it. “What the.. Why do you even think that would work? You do realize the minute we get to other people- wonderfully sane people- I’m going to tell them that you kidnapped me right?”

Castiel shifted, looking at him. “They won’t believe you, I have a plan already.”

The man pursed his lips as he shook his head again. “I could probably take you.” He said as he subtly sized the guy up. “Eventually I’ll overpower you.”

Castiel pulled his gun back out and pointed it at him. “Or I could shoot you.”

“You won’t shoot me.” The man stated just as a deer pranced across the road.

Castiel let out a shout as he went to swerve to the side the same time his hand dropped slightly and he pulled the trigger. He quickly looked over to the frozen man and followed his eyes, horrified when he saw his bullet embedded itself in the seat right below the man's crotch.

“I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed as he slammed the safety back on and put it away.

The pair were silent for the next 20 minutes of their trip before Castiel cleared his throat. “My name is Castiel. You can call me Cas. I uh.. Got chips, if you want any.” He offered.

The man denied even as his stomach growled loudly at the thought.

Castiel offered a slight, if forced, laugh as he handed him an unopened bag. “All yours.”

After another five minutes the man quietly opened the bag and ate a few chips before mumbling.

“What?”

“Dean. Names Dean.”

“Hello, Dean.”

He was met with grumbles and a glare as the man continued to eat.

10 minutes away, Castiel began to give him a rundown of his life and family and Dean reluctantly offered a few things about himself.

Once he was pulled up outside the cabin, half an hour away from any other buildings he began to pat Dean’s jacket and pants pocket.

“Hey! You don’t get to touch what you almost shot off!” He protested.

“Sorry, just looking for this.” Castiel said as he pulled the phone from him and shoved it in his pocket with his own before uncuffing him and taking his tie back. “I’ll be right back.” He said before running to the house.

Inside he found his mom and dad and came out as well as told them that his boyfriend, Dean, had a weird sense of humor where he just joked about being a kidnapped victim until everyone was sick of it in 2 minutes. Castiel could tell that they thought it was weird, but then again they thought he was weird too.

He ran back out of the house and into Dean who had been on the porch.

Castiel took Dean’s arm and pulled him in. “Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend, Dean. Dean, this is my mother and father.”

Dean gave him a look before launching into the story about how he got here. Castiel was more than relieved when his parents looked at each other before chuckling to themselves. “Love has a way of making you feel like that.” His father said and Dean turned to Castiel, smug look dropping off of his face.

The next 15 minutes was a whirlwind of greetings and forced hugs and handshakes and the entire time Castiel made sure to keep an eye on Dean.

After his brothers and sister and the people they brought were led away by his mother and father he turned to Dean. “Not so bad, right?”

“I hate you.” Was his reply as he glowered at Castiel.

“It’s only for a few days?” Castiel offered. “Then I can take you back to the diner and you can go on with your life.”

Dean snorted at that. “Are you serious? My brothers a lawyer, there’s no way you won’t be in jail at the end of this.”

Castiel never get the chance to reply as his mother came downstairs to retrieve them before putting them in a room together.

Once the door was shut, Castiel cleared his throat as they both stared at the single bed. “I know I kidnapped you but if it makes you uncomfortable I can bring a cot in here to sleep on.”

“Yeah, I’d love that. I’d also love if you let me go.” Dean replied, sitting on the bed.

Castiel awkwardly shuffled his feet before deciding to ignore the comment. “So, maybe we should get to know each other a little better?”

“Alright. I’m Dean Winchester, I’m an Aquarius, enjoy sunsets and long walks on the beach. I also like frisky women, emphasis on the women part.”

“You’re not straight, completely, at least.”

Dean stared at him with wide eyes a moment before scowling. “Why do you say that?”

“No need to get defensive.” Castiel sighed, sitting on the other end of the bed. “But in the diner? You checked out two guys.” He pointed out, watching as Dean lowered his head.

“I’m going to enjoy seeing you get arrested.” He bit out.

Dinner went by uneventfully after that, Castiel and Dean staying silent most of the time as they ate slowly. After dinner, the family members bid each other goodnight and Castiel got a cot into their room. He slept by the door as Dean took the bed.

In the morning, Castiel woke up first and, after a few moments, he woke Dean up as well. Which, of course, went awful like he had expected. He didn’t think it would be any better if Dean had woke up on his own, though.

They were still bickering 20 minutes later when his sister Anna came too get them for breakfast.

Dean brushed right past her and headed down. Anna gave Castiel a smile. “I don’t know how you got so lucky, he’s so handsome.” she complimented. “And to get him to come here.”

“I guess I didn’t really give him a choice.” He said before stumbling over his words. “To love me, of course.” He added quickly.

Anna gave a small giggle as she continued down the hall to get Lucifer and Michael and their respective wives.

He made his way into the kitchen just in time, it seemed.

“You slept in those?” His mother asked.

“We left his suitcase behind, with all the hustle and bustle.” Castiel supplied easily as he slipped in the room.

Dean shot him a displeased look as his mother tutted at them. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something for you. Castiel has a tendency to wear clothes too big for him, anyways.”

And that’s how Dean found himself locked in the bathroom with a phone after lunch. He had gotten some clothes from Castiel but was sent to Lucifer and Michael to look for better fitting pants.

“You have a phone?” Dean asked, staring at the device on Michael’s dresser.

“I own a company, of course I wouldn’t be phoneless for 4 days. I turned in a fake to my mother.”

“Can I use it?” Dean asked, hopeful that this was his way out.

Michael picked it up and tossed it to him. “Five minutes. Don’t let anyone know, mother takes it very seriously.”

Dean was out and down the hallway in ten seconds flat.

Now, he listened the the ringing before a worried. “Hello?”

“Sammy! You have to help me.” Dean said, forcing himself to keep his voice down low.

“Dean, what’s wrong? You never called me back last night and you’re supposed to be here in an hour.”

“Listen, I was kidnapped and held at gunpoint and almost had my dick shot off last night. I’m maybe three hours north of moms house. I need you to get the police or something and get me out of here.” He rushed the last part as someone began banging on the door. “I’ve got to go Sam, but please hurry.” He pleaded as he ended the call and opened the door.

Castiel narrowed his eyes as he held out his hand. “Phone.”

Dean obediently dropped it in his palm, feeling a bit more cocky than he had since this entire thing began.

“You.. didn’t make a call did you?”

Dean just smirked at him before walking by. “Oh, and Castiel?” He said, turning to him with a smug look. “I’m gonna be the best damn boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel asked, blinking in surprise. “Why?”

“Because I want to make your family love me so when they find out all about this they’re even more disappointed with you.” Dean said, bitter about not being home with his own family. He gave him another smug smirk before turning and going to their room.

Castiel watched after him, accidentally letting out a whimper as the words registered with him.

A little bit after that they had put up a tree, his parents embarrassing him worse and worse as the minutes passed by.

“Castiel made this one when he was 7.” His father commented.

His mother let out a sigh as she took it and hung it up. “He was always so withdrawn as a child. Once, we paid a little girl to be his friend but two weeks later she gave the money back.”

“Mother!” Castiel groaned, dropping his head as she went on.

“It was always just you and your drawings. And Mr. Dinglebop.”

“Mr. Dinglebop?” Dean asked, not able to even hide his amusement. Or, not trying to at all to begin with.

“His imaginary friend.” His father added in, sighing heavily.

Dean grinned over at Castiel but it slowly began to fall as he saw how Castiel was retreating in on himself. As an older brother it was part of his job to realize how far you could push someone until it was too far and he could tell it was time to get out of this territory now.

He laid a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and gave him a warm smile when he looked up. “How about we go make some hot chocolate before we go to bed?”

Castiel nodded, relieved and Dean led him with a hand on his lower back to the kitchen.

“Sorry.. They aren’t exactly proud of me.” Castiel said as he pulled out things for hot chocolate.

Dean made a face as he got the cups down “Don’t say that. They’re your parents, they love you.”

“Not as much as they love Michael and Anna and Lucifer.” Castiel mumbled as he got out the mild.

He startled when Dean’s hand closed around his wrist and the milk splashed out and onto Dean’s shirt as he turned them so they were face to face. “Don’t say things like that.” He said, tone demanding him to listen, not even reacting to the spilled milk.

Castiel dropped his eyes to his wet shirt front and nodded.

Dean seemed to be pleased with that and let him go. Castiel set the milk on the kitchen island and watched as Dean easily took his shirt off and bunched it up.

Castiel let his eyes drift down, for the first time getting a good look at Dean’s chest and appreciating it a lot more than he probably should.

Watching him stare, Dean might have flexed a little bit as he twisted the shirt in his hands. “It’s only fair you give me your shirt.” He stated.

Blue eyes flew up to meet green, widening at the statement. “Why don’t you just get a new one?”

Dean smirked, leaning against the counter. “Because you want me to wear your clothes anyways.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and quickly removed his own shirt, throwing it at Dean. “I’ll go get a new one. You can make the cocoa.” He said, blushing at how Dean’s eyes roamed over him.

He turned and began to walk when Dean opened his mouth again.

“Are all your pants that low?” Castiel stumbled and turned to stare at him just to let his jaw drop when he found eyes tracing the v of his hips.

Turning, he fled the room and put on the baggiest shirt he owned, hoping Dean couldn’t find a reason to check his body out again.

He may have put off going back down for a few minutes. He fiddled with the sketchbook he had brought, flipping through it quickly twice before he sighed and put it back. Slowly, he walked back to the kitchen.

Castiel found Dean with two glasses and a bottle of hard liquor between them. “I uh… Just thought that maybe something stronger would be good for tonight.”

Moving forward with a small smile, Castiel nodded. “That sounds better, actually.” He said, sitting down as he took the glass Dean pushed towards him.

Dean watched as Castiel put the glass to his lips, downing it all in one go and setting the glass back down with a slight grimace. “You drink like you want to forget.” He commented.

Castiel glanced at Dean who just shrugged and said “I know what it’s like.” before downing the liquid in his own glass. They refilled and went on drinking as they talked. At first it was all meaningless small talk but at some point it became deeper.

“I just want them to feel proud of me, just once.” Castiel said miserably. That wouldn’t do, thought Dean. He reached over and settled a hand on Castiel’ shoulder in a form of comfort.

Castiel’s eyes rose to meet him and they were full of regret. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have brought you here. It was stupid, I was stupid.” He muttered, dropping his gaze to the half empty glass.

“Hey, Cas, look at me.” Dean said and waited for their eyes to meet again before going on. “I know I didn’t exactly have any choice on coming here, and I wish that I was with my own family, but… This isn’t all that bad.” He said, shifting.

Castiel looked up, eyes hopeful for the first time this day. “You really mean that? Like… You don’t hate it all?”

“Course not, you’re family is pretty cool once you get passed half them acting like they have sticks up their asses half the time.” Dean said, downing the rest of his drink. They were both well on their way to drunk at this point and starting to slur some of their words. “Besides, as stupid as it is, I’m really liking all your family traditions and.. and I might be starting to like even you.”

Castiel stared at him a long minute, not being able to process that. “You mean… You don’t hate me? Even after I almost shot your..” He motioned down to his lap.

Dean let out a loud laugh at that before clamping a hand over his mouth, not wanting to wake anyone up.

After that, the conversation became lighter as they talked about what they both enjoyed. They had a few more glasses before Castiel stood up to put the almost empty bottle back. He stumbled on the way, causing Dean to laugh more, doubling over and shaking his head as he watched.

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh back, finding it contagious. Finally, he calmed himself enough to nudge Dean and nod to the stairs. “We should go to bed.”

Dean nodded and stood, he wobbled in place a moment before tossing an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “We can help each other walk.” He reasoned and Castiel had never heard a better idea as he wrapped an arm around Dean’s middle.

They made their way up the stairs, in now way, shape, or form, being quiet about it. They had to stop half way up when Castiel began to laugh after Dean had hit his toe and almost fell as he swore loudly.

Eventually, after much too long, they were in the room. Dean kicked the door closed and walked them to the bed. He held on tight even when Castiel’s tried to pull away to go to his cot.

“No, no, we have to walk together.” Dean had said.

“But I’ll have to walk back to my cot by myself.” Castiel said, confused by the idea.

Dean shook his head as he flopped down on the bed, taking Castiel with him. “Good thing this is big enough for two!”

Castiel let out a laugh as Dean turned enough to wrap his arms and legs around his. “Hey, hey, at least cover us up.” He protested with chuckles as he wrestled the blanket out from underneath them and flung it over, making sure they were both covered.

Dean hummed, giving Castiel a small squeeze. “Haven’t slept in the same bed with someone in forever. I missed it.” He admitted quietly, into Castiel’ hair.

Castiel let out a small content sigh, turning into Dean’s hold and laying an arm around his waist. “I know how you feel.” He said back in a quiet voice.

He laid there, ear pressed against Dean’s chest and listening to just his heartbeat and breathing for a while before his own eyes slid shut and he drifted off.

Dean, laid there a while longer just watching Castiel, mind void of any real thought processes before he also fell asleep.

The next day they didn't say anything when the woke up side by side. They just got up and began getting ready for the day.

It worked for the most part, at least until they went down for breakfast. They had been shuffling through the door when Anna pointed at them with a grin.

They looked at each other, confused, then back at Anna. All she did was grin and look up. Dread filled Castiel as he looked up, already knowing what he would see.

Above them was mistletoe. It was just hanging there in a cruel way, at least to his eyes. He was about to make an excuse about morning breath but he felt a hand on his cheek.

His eyes shot down to meet Dean’s and they widened when he was the soft smile on Dean’s face.

He felt another hand on his other cheek and then his face was being pulled forward. He closed his eyes automatically and then lips were on his and they were soft and warm and so, so wrong because Dean’s not even here of his own free will.

That didn’t stop him from kissing back though and he tilted his head when Dean began to tilt his the other way.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean’s hands moved down, settling on each of his hips. They continued to kiss like that until a cleared throat made them startle away from each other.

Castiel stared wide-eyed at Dean in disbelief as a blush took over his face. Dean, on the other hand, just turned to see who had made the noise and grinned at Michael. “Sorry?”

Castiel turned fast enough to see Michael roll his eyes. Anna looked fairly pleased with herself and right then he knew his sister was the reason the mistletoe was there in the first place. Glancing to the other end of the table he could see Lucifer hiding an amused smirk behind his cup of coffee. If it was possible, Castiel’s face burned even brighter at that.

“Mother dragged the others out to pick up the last few things needed for dinner tonight.” Michael said as he stood up. “I think I’m going to go for a walk, now.” He said before leaving the room with carefully measured strides.

Dean dragged Castiel over to the table and sat him down before grabbing breakfast for the both of them. “I was thinking actually, you paint, right? Maybe we could go out for a winter picnic and you can get some nice landscapes down.”

Castiel stared at him, startled, before slowly nodding. “I.. Yes, Dean, that sounds pleasant.” He said, his hands fidgeting under the table, out of sight.

Dean smiled widely at him as he sat down with two plates of food and Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. Right then, he knew he was fucked.

Keen to keep his word, Dean packed a lunch and made sure they were bundled up before dragging Castiel out of the cabin with a canvas as well as a sketchpad and his case of various paints, pencils and pastels.

Castiel took him up to a secluded spot he had found as a kid and Dean spread out two blankets on a fallen log they had found. They ate in silence as Castiel began to look around, looking for just the right spot.

Dean seemed content to just eat and look out at the snow shining in the distance as Castiel began on his landscape sketch. Or, at least it started as a landscape drawing.

At some point Castiel had sketched Dean into it and then suddenly half of the space was just him and it was more like a portrait then. Castiel didn’t even realize it until he had colored the green of Dean’s eyes just right. He started when Dean broke the silence that had surrounded them the whole time.

“Can I see it?”

Castiel stared at him with wide eyes as he held it against his chest. “I..” He swallowed before nodding and holding it out to Dean.

He watched as Dean’s eyes widened and let it go easily when Dean took hold of it to bring it closer to his eyes for inspection. He waited guiltily for Dean to begin to lecture him about drawing him without his permission but then Dean just grinned over at Castiel and handed it back. “I like it, Cas.”

Castiel practically preened at the words, smiling brightly at him as he pulled it back and finished up the background. “We should probably head back, the suns going down.” He said softly.

“Probably.” Dean agreed, carefully nudging Castiel. “I’ll pose for you back at the cabin, okay?” He said and Castiel looked up to meet teasing eyes.

“Maybe I will make you be my model.” Castiel rolled his eyes fondly as he packed up. “You are very pretty, after all.” He said, patting his cheek before standing up.

Dean watched him a moment before grinning and getting up too, collecting the blankets before they began their journey through the thinning forest to the cabin.

They walked in the front door and began peeling off their damp clothing. They seemed to have good timing because just then Castiel’s father came out in a huge coat and let out a loud sigh when he saw them. “I was just about to come get you. Dinner will be ready in ten.” He said before he pulled off his huge coat.

“Let’s go get dressed.” Castiel said quietly, taking Dean’s hand and pulling him up the stairs to their room.

Castiel put his art supplies away and turned to go through the dresser he had filled with his clothes. He got an outfit and turned to change but froze when he saw Dean, however. He was shirtless and tugging his pants down and he turned to grab the pants he had put on his bed.

Dean looked up and saw Castiel staring, he grinned at him and winked. “Maybe we’ll save the nude modeling for after dinner?”

Castiel sputtered at that and turned away quickly, pulling his own clothes off and quickly trying to redress. This wasn’t anything like how the locker rooms at school were like, he mused to himself.

Dean grinned as he watched Castiel and let out a whistle, chuckling to himself when Castiel almost tripped in his rush to pull his pants on.

Castiel was dressed and out the door before Dean even had his pants on. He rushed down to the kitchen and offered to help but just got sent to grab the two bottles of wine from the storage spot in the garage portion there was.

He went and fetched the bottles and when he returned Dean was helping Anna set the table. After that it was all a blur of directions and being told where to sit by his mother before everything was set and dinner was deemed ready.

Lucifer and Michael were sat on one side of the table with their wives beside them. At both heads of the table where their parents and then Anna, Dean and Castiel sat across from his brothers and their wives.

His mother made a small religious speech and they all made a toast. Right as his father rose to cut the ham there was a loud bang and men charged into the house, guns raised.

Castiel felt his stomach drop as he realized they were police officers, shouting orders at them. After a moment a large man without a uniform fought his way through and grabbed Dean, dragging him out.

Castiel kept his head down as he heard yelling and orders but he just obediently put his hands behind his back when the officers began to arrest them. All of them, to Castiel’s horror.

Luckily on the way to the jail he rode in the back of a police car with Anna who seemed to be stunned into silence. Or too disgusted to talk to him. Castiel was hoping it was just the shock, though.

The next to hour seemed to pass by like minutes. Soon they were all back together in a cell and Michael was yelling at him about how he had managed to ruin Christmas and commit a crime at the same time.

No one stood up for him or even told Michael to quiet down so Castiel sat there and took it, staring at the ground. He always knew his family was better off without him and this was proving all those thoughts.

He tried to apologize once but a glare from Lucifer shut him back up. Worse than that, his mother was crying, asking what she had done to mess him up this bad. His father kept giving him disappointed looks, and Anna was ignoring him all together.

He wasn’t sure how long it had went on, it seemed like hours to him though. Eventually an officer returned and said the charges had been dropped. Everyone rushed out of the cell, to follow the other officer but Castiel made a sluggish exit, feeling like he would be safer behind the bars at this point.

It was stupid and selfish but Castiel kept looking around the police station, hoping to see Dean. He didn’t.

He went home after that to his broken toaster and lonely rooms, not daring to go get his things from the cabin just yet. He did go pick his car up from where the police had all of their cars towed.

A couple of weeks later Castiel was heading out of the restaurant and to his car. His entire body locked up in terror as a blindfold was suddenly tied around his eyes and a hand found his way over his mouth.

To his horror, Castiel felt himself begin to shake slightly as he let out a whimper.

“Shh..” The man hushed him, pressing a kiss to Castiel’s jaw.

Castiel knew he should have been terrified of that kiss but something about this just seemed so familiar.. and then it clicked. “Dean?” He asked but it came out muffled.

He had seemed to understand it because he pulled his hand back with a chuckle. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel gasped and went to turn around but Dean stopped him and Castiel felt fur on both his wrists and he let out a huff of amusement. “Furry handcuffs?”

“I didn’t make fun of you for using it.” Dean said as he began to lead him.

Castiel walked, frowning slightly when it felt like he had walked at least a block. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Was Dean’s response as he ran a hand down his arm. “This is my revenge and I can do what I want.” He stated.

Castiel felt his heart sink all over again. “I’m sorry for what I did, Dean.” He said in a defeated voice.

He was suddenly pulled to a stop and turned around by Dean. “Don’t be.” He said simply and then there were soft lips on him and it felt so right but wrong all over again.

Before Castiel had the chance to kiss back Dean pulled away and pulled the blindfold away. Castiel squinted as his eyes were suddenly assaulted with light again. He blinked a few times then looked around in amazement.

They were in a gazebo and there were lights hanging inside the entirety of the structure. Castiel looked back to Dean with wide eyes. “Where.. Where are we?” He asked softly.

Dean grinned at him and moved closer, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist. “Back of the art gallery. I have another surprise late.” He said, smiling softly as he began to sway them back and forth, dancing without music.

Castiel wrapped his arms around his neck and, moved with him, biting his lip lightly. “I don’t… I don’t understand. I kidnapped you.”

“Yeah, well… You made me like you too so you only have yourself to blame.” Dean teased softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

Castiel watched him with soft eyes a moment before leaning in and kissing Dean softly. They shared chaste kisses as they swayed together for a while before Dean pulled away and took his hand, tugging up up to the art gallery doors. Castiel laughed at Dean’s excitement all they way until he suddenly stopped.

Castiel looked up, quieting as he met Dean’s eyes. Dean was looking at him expectantly and a moment later he understood why.

His picture. Hanging up. His work of art in an art gallery. His landscape-turned-portrait of Dean in an art gallery.

It was overwhelming, seeing something he had made up there and he felt himself tear up. He had tried to get some of his other pieces into shows before but was always denied and now… He felt like a real artist for the first time in a long time, he felt that his family was wrong about him. “Dean.. There’s no way I can repay you for this.” He whispered.

“Sure there is!” Dean said cheerily, smiling as he pulled Castiel into his side. “Go on a date with me.”

Castiel tore his eyes from the wall and looked up at Dean in shock. After a moment he gave Dean a shy smile and nodded. “Okay.”

#destiel #old fanfic #but its the holiday season sooo #castiel #dean winchester #artist!cas #holiday in handcuffs #spn #supernatural #fanfic #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #tw: kidnapping

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