#and by 3 jack really is so fucking done with being alive he's so tired AND. sorry. sorry this is no place for.me.to rip my hair off

[the-acid-pear]

Also while Jack and religion posting these lyrics from Belle's Palsy by Reverend Glasseye just felt so him.

[knoxic]

A kiss may ruin a human life.

Oscar Wilde

-Masterlist- part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

wc: 2,1k

warnings: miscommunications (but really there's almost no communication at all), self deprecating thoughts, mentions of death, ptsd, insomnia, anxiety, grief(?), angst,

i think that's it but please let me know if there's anything else!

a/n: this work implies that Hotch heard Haley's last breath. timeline is around season 6-7 but it doesn't really matter. this is heavily based on my own experience from death and hearing someone's last breath. Hotch is a little out of character but it'll get better i promise, this was supposed to be something just for myself but i decided to post it, that being said, im already writing part 2!

no use of y/n!

He was distant.

He kept avoiding you, every day, even when you got back to the hotel and had no other choice but to be around each other, he showered and said some casual phrases that he could damn well say to a stranger.

You tried to understand, he was stressed and haven't slept well in days but, fuck, wasn't it happening to everyone else? And they weren't avoiding you...

Asking if he wanted something to eat or if he wanted that shitty coffee just got you a cold and empty answer. "No, thanks.", "I've had enough for today, thank you.", "I'll just finish some files," and etc. Sure he was polite, you don't think he could be rude even if he wanted to, not with someone he was close to at least, but he was always so gentle and warm, had you done something to make him mad?

...

It started off just as every other day started, new case in a city you've never been to before. Sharing a room with your boss meant a different routine than if you shared with anyone else in the team, late nights and early mornings, the sound of pen scratching paper being the first thing you heard when waking up and the last when you were drifting off, you wondered if he even slept at all.

The answer was no, he barely ever slept during a case, especially if he could hear you breathing all night.

He was scared, scared it would happen again. It was unrealistic and he knew, it happened too many times already, but, twice, like that, was terrifying.

Terrifying to the point he was paralyzed, every night you whispered that sweet "Good night, Hotch." and it flipped the switch, he would now spend the night awake to make sure that you would tell him "Good morning, Hotch" in a gentle yet strong voice. That whisper sounded enough like the gasp he heard that one time, and it always immediately set off every trigger he had of that unfortunate day.

Every night he spent with you in the same room he tried to distract himself enough not to hear your steady breaths, finishing random files that weren't so important and sometimes even going as far as writing them twice. When he got tired enough to black out he laid out and hoped the second his head hit the uncomfortable pillow he would be asleep. That never happened.

He kept listening. You sometimes tossed and turned in your sleep and he knew it meant you were probably having nightmares but it always soothed his mind, if you were moving it meant you were still alive, and it blurred the agonizing sound of your breath.

Sometimes he slept, but even when he did, he kept listening, gun shots echoed inside his head, his aching hands clad with blood holding her body, the sound... the horrific, terrifying, agonizing sound of her last breath.

He thought it had stopped, he has triggers of course but, it wasn't always that they were set off like this, usually it happened sometimes when Jack slept on his chest and that meant carrying him to bed, but he normally allowed himself a bit of self care and went to his own room, far enough from his child to hear if he called but not close enough to hear his breaths. Being stuck in a hotel room did not allow him that. He tried soundproof headphones after the second night they spent together a couple years ago, he quickly figured it was somehow more agonizing than being able to hear.

Now, three days into the case he was desperate for a night alone, to drown in complete silence and darkness, thankfully, not what he wanted but close to it, you had gone to Emily's room to discuss something, he didn't know what it was and apparently you didn't care enough to tell him, or you just didn't want him to know.

He held himself back from sprinting to bed right after you left the room, surely it wouldn't look so good if you were to come back because you forgot something or for any other reason, he let 2 minutes pass by, anxiously, getting up quickly to take the fastest shower he could manage and jumped into bed, he almost decided against clothes before reminding himself that sooner or later you would come back, it took more time than he'd like but finally he was now in bed and drifting off quicker than expected.

...

"Emily..." you whimpered.

"Come on... it's Hotch," she rested a hand on your shoulder, "He's probably just going through something, i heard him tell Rossi last week that Jack were having some trouble with school, it might be that, right?"

"Yeah, but i feel like..." Emily was the only one who knew about your confused feelings for Hotch and still you hesitated, "i feel like it's something else... he's been avoiding me and barely looks me in the eye when we're alone."

Emily went silent for a few seconds, looking away and seemed to be deciding carefully what to say.

"Listen, you know i love you and support anything you decide to do, but..." oh god "You should talk to him, not me."

"I came to you exactly because i don't want to talk to him, even if i tried i don't think he would answer" You gave her the most pleading puppy eyes you could manage.

"There's only one way to find out, honey."

After a few more minutes of licking your wounds you gathered yourself enough to face Aaron, walking a little too fast to your shared room just to make sure you wouldn't have time to back down and run back to Emily. Thinking too many things and nothing at all just to distract yourself you ended up opening the door loudly, scaring yourself when the lights were off and you could barely make out the person under the blankets.

Had you really just opened a random door? Fuck!

Until, in your panic state your eyes caught a glimpse of Aaron's bag close to his bed, some files slipped out if it when he drastically dropped it earlier. Relieved, you slipped into the room and closed the door quieter than you had opened it, unsure if Aaron was indeed asleep or if he was pretending just so he wouldn't have to talk to you, a shower seemed to be the best thing to do.

It was weird, a part of you knew he was tired and going to sleep without someone else in the room is sometimes a lot easier, but, the bigger part of you kept thinking that he was doing this just to avoid you, to not have to force out a "Good night." when both of you knew it wasn't good for him, and it hurt.

Shower was indeed a good thing, the warm water doing wonders to your aching muscles and the sound of the water running was a good background for your mind to organize your thoughts. That same sound was what Aaron woke up to.

Looking around searching for what had woken him, he saw the light coming from the bathroom, the door didn't close all the way sometimes, you had to close it hard and he supposed you didn't want to make noise. He also searched for his phone to see the time, check how long it took for you to come back, but in his hustle earlier he had forgotten to pick up his phone, wherever it was he didn't feel like getting up to search for it.

In his sleepy state he had turned to watch the door, not really paying attention to what he was looking out for until he got a glimpse of you wrapping a towel around your body, he hadn't even noticed the sound of the water had stopped, snapping himself out of whatever this was he turned away from the door, right before he saw the light getting brighter and your quiet barefoot steps getting closer, a zipper being opened, rustle of fabric against fabric and the zipper being closed, steps again but this time going away and the room getting darker again.

It didn't take long for you to come back, he could smell the soap you always used, it only took him a couple days sharing a room and a bathroom with you to know every soap or perfume you owned smelled the same, peaches.

It almost physically pained him to not be able to smell it directly from your skin, he had hugged you and stood close enough to smell your perfume but, he knew it wasn't the same as your fresh out of the shower scent. It already smelled so comforting from this far, he was certain he'd go insane if he ever got the chance to hug you like this, out of any police department or hospital smell, just you.

He was so lost in thought he hadn't realized you had already settled in bed.

"Good night, Hotch..." he heard you whisper, so quietly he almost missed it, it made his heart stutter and beat faster.

Did you know he was awake? Did you see him looking at you through the opening door? He didn't see anything but the skin of your arms! Should he answer? No. Stop it, you idiot.

You turned again, again and again. The mattress was hard, the blanket felt like it kept scratching your bare legs, the pillow made you feel like a stone would be comfier, not to mention the discomfort of your mind telling you how uncomfortable Aaron must be to have you around that he even went to bed earlier just so he wouldn't have to see you, you must be pathetic to even have wished him a good night when he clearly didn't want you here-

"Are you okay?" There it was, his husky voice, he was sleeping and you disturbed him.

"Uh- yeah, sorry to wake you up." wow, that came out so weak, he definitely thinks you're pathetic.

The sound of his body turning and his voice that seemed to be right beside your ear made you shiver.

"You keep tossing and turning, your breath is faster than normal," he sighed. "So I'll ask again, are you okay?"

It's now or never.

"Have you- you have been avoiding me." you could hear Emily's voice saying it wasn't so hard was it?.

"No i haven't." that came out way too fast to be true, Hotchner.

"Yes you have, and you can barely even look at me when we're alone, you give me empty words and talk better to a rookie you will never see again," you were rambling but now there was no way you would stop. "If i did something to upset you, please tell me because, i can profile you but i cannot read your mind yet, and i can't apologize if i don't know what i did wrong."

"I-" gosh you were so self deprecating. "I'm sorry i made you feel that way, you did nothing wrong." he said in a weirdly soft voice.

"That- that doesn't make me feel better..."

"I'm sorry... it's... not something you did..." well, if you were talking than he should too. "It's you."

A couple seconds passed but they felt like minutes.

Your heart dropped, "What?" it couldn't be... you knew you weren't perfect but, to know your mind was right yet again felt... nauseating.

"Wait! wait," he was sitting up now, back to the headrest, his hand has making a gesture that you read as a calm down, he did that once with a child, to make them stop their rambling, you really were pathetic.

"Not you, i meant... ah fuck, it's complicated."

Now that you were already broken, you might as well just finish this, for once end what made you anxious, even if it meant losing your hopes of being with Aaron.

Your breath was harder and lost its rhythm. You could be going into a panic attack right now but Aaron was relieved, after hearing the way your voice got so... pained, he thought he ended this, that you would get up and leave him and the memories came back in a rush that made him dizzy, but you were still here, and breathing hard, unlike the breath Haley-

"Then tell me, unless you have something to do at 2am i think we have enough time, tell me. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not as complicated as what we had going on." your voice was steady, no longer the panicked and embarrassed girl who just got rejected by their crush, that was the voice of a woman who took down seral killers for a living, who could damn well talk face to face with him if they were to fight. Now he felt small, he could tower over you if you two were standing up but he knew you were the bigger person.

[storiesbyrhi]

Bones and All - Chapter 3: The Shire

Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence/gore, cuss words, weird parental relationships, updated each chapter

Synopsis: A Bones and All AU. What do you hunger for?

Chapter Summary: Bacon breakfast and you're on the road. 2785 words.

Eddie had fallen asleep on the couch watching wrestling on the old television set in the cowboy’s living room. When you had emerged and found him like that, peaceful and vulnerable, you felt something stir within you. A hunger unlike the other.

You sat on the floor in front of the sofa, back to Eddie.

Being that close to him made you feel good. You were safe with each other, safe from each other. You ached, somewhere in your ribs. But it was the kind of pain you could learn to live with.

While Eddie snored softly, you pulled your mother’s letter from your bag and carried on with the task.

I blamed myself every time. I shouldn’t have trusted you to take the bus - I should have picked you up and dropped you off. Monitored you more closely. I shouldn’t have taken you to the work party. I shouldn’t have let you get so pretty. So many regrets.

If I had known then what I know now, I would have made your father take you. I didn’t know about him until the day he left. Perhaps he could have done a better job.

Enclosed is half of all the money I have and your birth certificate. I don’t know where your father is, but his parents lived in Iowa, somewhere west of Cedar Rapids.

I will always love you, Y/N. Please don’t come looking for me.

“What’s that?” Eddie’s voice made you jump, the paper in your hands crumpling.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. Mirror neurons fired and you yawned too. You smiled at each other.

“Um. It’s a letter. From my mum,”

“She still in the picture?”

When you hesitated, Eddie looked away and pulled his Reeboks on. “Well, Barry’s been a great host but what do ya say we-”

He froze. You both heard it. A car pulled up outside.

Eddie hit the deck and motioned for you to copy him. You both crawled along the floor until you got to a window, hiding under it so nobody could see you if they looked in.

“Barry! Where’s the check, Barry?!”

A woman yelled for a minute, switching between cuss words and accusations. Apparently, Barry had been a bad cowboy and not paid alimony. After a promise to return with the police, you and Eddie quickly gathered your belongings and headed out the door.

“Fuck… She slashed a tire.”

You looked at it. She sure did. “Seemed justified,” you commented.

Eddie was in the back of the van throwing things out onto the dirt and gravel. “There’s a spare! Kinda surprising, knowing Barry as we do,” Eddie announced, reappearing with a smirk on his face.

“Do you know how to change it?”

“Do I know- Yes, Y/N, I know how to change a tire,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. He fished around in the van some more looking for tools and a jack. When he had all he needed, he got to work. “I can change this in seven minutes flat,”

“Really?”

“Time me,”

“I believe you,” you assured him.

Although you didn’t time him, it seemed like less than seven minutes later you were back on the road.

“We can stop for breakfast, but we better get clear of town first. Can’t have the van recognised, you know?”

You nodded. You couldn’t change a tire but you knew all about fleeing the scene and about disappearing across the state border. About bleach and acid.

“So… I need to go home,”

“Where’s home?” you asked, forgetting his reaction the last time you enquired.

“Small shitty down in Indiana. Hawkins. Where did you say you were headed?”

“Iowa… I’m looking for my dad. He’s somewhere there, west of Cedar Rapids apparently,”

“Are you in a hurry?” Eddie asked.

You had never had a friend. Not really. Sherry would have been the closest thing, if you hadn’t tried to eat her friend alive. What did friendship feel like? Was it the tingle in the tips of your fingers as you sat in the van with Eddie? Was it the warm and terrifying feeling of hope that you were so skilled at keeping under wraps? 

You shook your head.

“I have to go back, even just for a couple hours. Then I can take you where you need to go. It’s a lot of driving, but… I don’t know. I’m up for it, if you are.”

Is this what friendship felt like?

Two hours later you stopped at a roadside diner. Eddie ordered waffles and bacon, and you had pancakes and hashbrown. The waitress was kind, if not a bit of a stereotype. Everyone was though in midwest America. People knew their role and played it well, something you were jealous of.

Eddie gulped coffee like it was water, big mouthfuls going down easy. He chewed on bacon quickly, as if someone was going to come and take his plate away if he didn’t eat fast enough.

“You seemed more intimidating last night,” you mused.

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, well, when you’re a long-haired freak in this part of the country, you gotta have a big attitude.”

It made sense. You thought over what that implied, that the attitude was a shield. It protected the softness of who Eddie really was from the harshness of reality.

“So… How many others have you met?” you asked.

“Just you,”

“Oh… You… you made it sound like you knew others,”

“Did I?” Eddie replied, frowning. “What about you? What was the other one like?”

It shouldn’t have made you feel special that he remembered you saying you’d only just met your first. But, it did.

“He was old… Not old old. Just like, older than our parents old? His name was Sully,” you told him. “He was… nice… He, ah, said he could smell when someone’s about to die,”

“You believed him?”

That’s when you told Eddie about Lydia. Sully’s invitation. How you couldn’t smell it coming, but when it came the air grew heavy and you knew. About sharing her and the carrot cake. About the rope of human hair.

“Jesus… That’s a choice. You don’t have to be like that,”

“I think he was trying to help me. Trying to be kind?”

“I profoundly doubt that,” Eddie said with a scoff. He looked up to see the dismay on your face. “Does it help? To remember their names?”

“What?”

“Lydia Harmon. I bet you remember all their names. Does it help?”

Penny. Luke. Dmitri. Kevin. Marcus. Noble. CJ. Jamie. (Kim almost.) Lydia. (Andy almost.) Penny. Luke. Dmitri. Kevin. Marcus. Noble. CJ. Jamie. Lydia. Penny. Luke. Dmitri. Kevin. Marcus. Noble. CJ. Jamie. Lydia.

How dare he see you.

“Does it help to take their stuff?” you countered.

Eddie had taken the cowboy’s hat. It was still out in the van, but it was there. The floral button up shirt wasn’t Eddie’s. Neither was the heart locker around his neck. There were probably more things in his collection.

Eddie’s face remained steely. He picked up his last piece of bacon and began to chew it.

“Is your dad one of us? That why you’re looking for him?” he asked, a brutal change in subject designed to avoid your question.

“I think so,” you answered. “So, why are you going home?”

“Keeping a promise,” he answered. “There’s this kid, she lives opposite my uncle in the trailer park. Max. She’s a good kid that’s been handed a really fucking shitty hand. She’s going for her driver’s test so I promised I’d take her for a lesson,”

“She’s kind of like a sister?”

“I guess… I just… I promised her.”

You nodded and resisted the urge to call him sweet. “That’s… really nice of you,”

“I am nice,” Eddie replied, sucking the bacon fat off his thumb.

“You seem it,”

“Do I?”

It felt like you were playing a game you didn’t quite know the rules to you. Eddie watched you for a moment before declaring he was going to the bathroom, disappearing quickly.

Back on the road, Eddie mapped out a route to Hawkins that included a brief stop to get a new spare tire. You sat on the bench outside the mechanics listening to Eddie talk to the man in blue canvas overalls.

“Smart… Should always have a spare,” the man said. “Wish my boy was like you.”

Eddie hid a blush and hoped you weren’t in earshot. “Nah, man… You really don’t… I was actually looking for a spare set of something else?”

The man had seen many runaways and outlaws come through his shop. He motioned for Eddie to follow him out the back. They were gone for a little while, and you held your breath when you heard Eddie call out your name.

As he came around the corner, not a drop of red in sight, you exhaled. Eddie caught it and his face dropped.

“I didn’t-” you tried, launching yourself off the bench and towards Eddie.

He held his hands up defensively. “It’s fine… I know I what I am.” There was utter misery in his tone.

“What we are,” you corrected. “Whatever’s… in you… It’s in me too.”

The sadness dissipated and was replaced with a small kind of surprise. Eddie’s head cocked to the side and his eyes grew a little wider than usual.

“Alright. Gimme fifteen,” the man in the overall said, walking back into the shop. “Sorry, there’s not much to do ‘round here,”

“S’fine. Thank you,” Eddie replied to him but didn’t take his eyes off you.

After a few more lingering moments, Eddie nodded to the bench and you both sat down with your sides pressed against each other. Eddie’s hand sat on his thigh, palm up. You knew it was an invitation but were too afraid to just reach out and take it.

It felt like an eternity of waiting. You stared at Eddie’s hand, studied the lines of his palms like you knew how to read them. After only a minute on the bench, you slowly moved your hand to your own leg and copied his position. Bolder than you, Eddie threaded his fingers through yours, killing any doubt and all the tension. Waiting was easier after that.

Hours later, back on the road with a spare and new number plates, Eddie said, “We should probably call it for the day.” The sun was low on the horizon and stars had begun to twinkle against the deep blue. “There’s a state park entrance just up a bit. We can stop there.”

Parked in the shadows, you opened all the doors to the van and did a stocktake of what you had in the way of supplies. Eddie found a plastic bag shoved under one of the seats and it was quickly filled with trash. You still had the can of chickpeas and chocolate bar, and half a bottle of water. Eddie had a lot of beef jerky, an apple, soup mix packets, a bottle of warm iced tea, and the dregs of a bottle of water.

“Not bad,” Eddie said with a shrug.

“Had worse,” you agreed.

In the back of the van there were empty cardboard boxes, a toolset, a very old sleeping bag with a broken zip, and a jug of something that was probably water but neither of you wanted to gamble on. The floor was carpeted, but it was a poorly achieved job. Eddie pulled at the corner until he was ripping it out entirely.

“What are you doing?” you asked, stumbling out of the way. “Won’t it be warmer with that in there?”

“Yeah, but we can flatten these boxes and put ‘em down first. You know, for insulation. Besides, this carpet smells like something died on it. And I should know.”

Quasi-cannibal humour. You laughed.

After vigorously shaking the living shit out of the carpet, Eddie laid it back down on top of the boxes you’d crushed. The sleeping bag, plastic side down - fabric side up, was next.

“No blankets but if we close the doors we might not freeze to death,” Eddie said. It was good enough for you.

Eddie immediately began on the second task, dinner. You watched him open his duffle bag and draw out all sorts of useful things. A torch, a tin pot and two tin mugs, and a tiny propane camp stove. He must have seen the look on your face.

“Once you find yourself alone out here without the things you need, you get practical pretty fast,” he explained, then pulled a Bic lighter out from where you spied a collection of them shoved under clothes in his bag.

After a dinner of soup beefed out with jerky and chickpeas, and you split the chocolate bar in two and moved to settle yourself in the back of the van on the makeshift bed. You thought about re-reading your mother’s letter, but the hum of cicadas and the smell of the forest was too magic to ruin. 

Eddie cleaned up and packed everything away, seemingly happy to have a distraction.

“What do you normally do when you’re out here alone?” you asked.

He glanced at you, a small twist of a smile on his lips.

“That’s not what I meant,” you clarified.

Eddie chuckled. “I, ah, read. Mostly.” He opened his duffle to you and tilted it so you could see the books in there. He must have been stronger than he looked, you thought, carrying that Mary Poppins bag of tricks around.

“We could trade,” you offered, showing him the little library in your backpack.

You looked at each other again. A knowing look, but free from the accusation that came with your mother’s own knowing.

When there were no more tasks for Eddie, he joined you in the van. You both pulled on extra socks and jackets, then laid on your sides facing each other. Duffels and backpacks for pillows, all in all, it wasn’t too bad.

“We’ll get supplies after Hawkins,”

“Probably a good idea,” you agreed. The silence after wasn’t awkward, but you had so many questions that you couldn’t let it linger. Eddie bet you to it though.

“Who was your first?”

“Sully asked me that too… It was my babysitter,” you answered.

“Me too,”

“Really? I guess it makes sense…”

The conversation turned to eating. Sully’s rule – don’t eat an eater. Were there other rules? Were there things not meant to be eaten… like bones and nails? Were there people not meant to be eaten? Mothers? Priests?

“You said you’d never met another… Does that mean there was nobody in your family like you?” you asked.

Eddie chewed his lip, considering his reply. “I don’t know shit about my parents. Dad ran out on us when I was a kid. Mum not long after. Raised by my uncle,”

“Does he know?”

“No… Well, I mean… Not really. He knows… something. He’s a good man. Deserves better than… all this.”

A normal person in a normal conversation would say something like ‘Oh, no, Eddie. I am sure you’re a wonderful nephew! You’re a good person!’ But that would be bullshit and you’d both know it. You just nodded, understanding.

“Do you just wanna read for a bit?” Eddie asked. “We’ve just got… ah, the one torch. But, I, I thought I could read to you. If that’s not, um, super lame?”

“Have you read The Lord of the Rings?”

Eddie smiled wide, took a dramatic breath in, and recited, “Home is behind, the world ahead,

and there are many paths to tread

through shadows to the of night,

until the stars are all alight.”

Your stomach flipped and your nose tingled. “I love Tolkien,” you whispered, sounding stoned or dumb.

“Me too. Don’t get too impressed. I can’t quote the whole thing. I remember the poems okay because they’re almost like lyrics, you know?”

“Lots of them are, in the books. They’re songs,”

“Yeah, exactly. Musician head, you know?” he said, motioning to his general head area.

“You’re a musician?”

“Um. That might have been too generous. I play guitar,” Eddie told you. The tone of his voice made it clear that he missed the instrument.

You tried to picture him playing. You imagined him with an electric guitar first. Metallica and heavy metal and all that. But then, the softness in him did lend itself to an acoustic. He had both, you decided.

Eddie was watching you, trying to figure out what your reaction to him being a guitarist was. When you said nothing, just looked a little lost in thought, he cleared his throat.

“So, to the Shire?”

End Note: She actually reads Tolkien in the novel/film. Honestly. This just writes itself.

Fic Taglist: @harrys-tittie @azydrateanatomy @pussy-drunk @mrsdollardog

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl

[sopxhiea]

Rules

Alfie Solomons X Friends with Benefits!Reader

Summary: The chase continues under the disguise of being friends who occasionally help each other out, but Alfie gets tired even though she doesn’t stop running.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: Blood

“You need help with that?”

“Is there some secret to winning you?”

The curtains are closed today.

The inside of the venue is booming with loud music, almost to a point of being obnoxious but it’s easy to tune it out at this point. The inside is crowded, there are more men in the club than there had been in a while. Mostly high end men, to note, since they all seem dapper and rich in their newly tailored suits.

The girls prance around in their new costumes, a dress but mostly in lace. The color matches the wooden interior, a hint that was done to draw in the rich more than anything. Some of the newer girls do the chatting, since that’s easier and the more experienced ones handle the dancing, touchier ways of dealing with rich lads.

And that includes you.

It’s been a while since you’ve worked this late. Not to mention you always work late, but late as in after the sunrise. The club opens later in the day to begin with but today’s busy to a point of keeping you later than usual, not that you complain with the hundredth tip of today in your hand as you walk towards the back part.

The room’s decorated with a bunch of mirrors and too much light compared to the where the men are being entertained. There are a couple girls sitting on their stools, touching up their make up or getting ready to leave as you’re about to do. After settling on the stool, you pack your bag and start taking your make up off but just as you’re about to do just that, the head of the club comes in with a scared look.

His name is Jack, a proper man with a talent in dabbling in bad side of entertainment. He hasn’t been unkind to you but not particularly kind either. You think he’s alright in general, but not when he looks like a ghost as he does now. You know men like him and they aren’t easily scared of anything, so when he comes in with a broken voice and pale lips, it makes you stop your movements and wait for him to speak.

“There’s someone here to see you, Y/N.” he says and you know better than to ask who it is. You already have a pretty good idea anyway so you put on a robe and seal it tightly around your body before shaking your head.

“Out on the back.” Jack speaks and you nod, you know he’s not coming with you from the way his eyes roam around the room.

The back exit is through a dingy corridor, with not so bad lighting and a couple other girls smoking in the hall. You murmur small greetings with a faint smile as you pass by and open the door to the exit. The weather is colder than you thought, also due to the early hour of the morning.

And there he stands, covered in an ungodly amount of blood.

His breathing is uneven, there is a cut on his upper lip and left eyebrow but his stance is not tilted, just slightly lower than usual. He waits as you take it all in, with the blood covering his once crispy white button up but the blood is vicious. You can see the lines of his black coat soaked in it as some of it drip down his left hand to the pavement.

Nothing about it surprises you.

You know what kind of a person he is, the work that he does is anything but safe so you don’t expect him to show up with flowers every time he drops by. Your eyes meet his once more after you’ve scanned his entire figure and there’s the ghost of a smile on your lips when you speak which comes as a surprise to him, but a pleasant one regardless.

“You need help with that?” you ask and he can hear the amusement in your voice.

Because there he is, knocking on your door again and rather than turning him down, you can’t help but try and stitch him back together.

You know he’s not about to faint on you or die, you can make out from the way his breathing evens out. Sure, he’s probably been shot or stabbed but he’s a tough brute, you know not to doubt his capacity to handle pain. It’s clear that the blood that is currently soaking his coat isn’t his but someone else’s. 

But all is fair in love and war, so you decide his wars have been picked.

Although it is not love, and you’ll make sure of that.

He scoffs at first, the first rays of sun finding their way through the street into the back exit as you stand. You don’t wait for him to answer before you motion him to sit in front of the exit where there are a couple benches and pull him by the coat when he doesn’t move. For all his might and power, he is spent as he moves towards you as you pull him.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Alfie.” you whisper as he sits down and you ask one of the girls to bring you alcohol and the first aid kit.

And much to your surprise, he doesn’t.

He’s a stubborn lad, someone who will do what they think is right even though they know they’re wrong but Alfie doesn’t even make a noise as you crouch in front of him. He sees the glint of tiredness, mixed in with a thin layer of sweat and make up as your skin under the streetlight glistens. His eye twitches every now and then due to the pain he’s experiencing but that is about it as you clean him up.

He needs three stitches, one on his left bicep, one on his left side and one more on his cheek. You figure they’ll heal up well, even though he’s told you that he doesn’t heal as fast while he talked about his younger days. 

He’s still at times like this.

But it’s like how a stallion would be still. He’s never calm, you know this from the way his anger latches on to anything in close proximity. He might get offensive at any given moment as he’s a beast among men, knows it too and that’s the most dangerous part but it doesn’t scare you. He’s just a man after all.

His breathing evens out as you work through the last stich. His eyes are glued to yours as you clean the cut on his eyebrow. The blue orbs don’t leave yours as you make sure your eyes don’t meet his, you don’t need this today. Not at this hour and especially not during work. He watches as you lick your lips and dab the last bit of alcohol on the cut before putting everything away and getting up.

The robe you had on is slightly covered in blood now, not his but someone else’s. He sees no bother on your face, no remorse as you stand up in front of him and get ready to walk back inside. He knows he broke the rules, your rules, and sees the slight annoyance on your face but it’s mixed with something else. Almost overcome by it.

Dare he say, you look worried.

He knows you’ll be the last to admit to it, since you’re even more stubborn than he is, but he likes seeing your delicate features a bit etched than usual. And all because of him. 

He’s a right bastard.

“Thank ya’, lass.” he says as you stand in front of his seated form. He’s not as pale as he was when he first arrived and it makes you sigh inside.

You nod and speak, voice stale.

“No problem. Just don’t bleed out somewhere in an alley.” you say and his eyebrows raise.

You’re being considerate and it makes him feel like he’s been punched.

He then pulls you closer by the sleeve of your robe so your knees are touching his seated ones. He’s almost as tall as your standing form, that’s how big the size difference is but it doesn’t faze you. You feel his breath tickling your face as you look down on his seated form. His hand is on your wrist while the other remains on his thigh and he speaks, almost in a hush.

“Ya’ worried about old me?” he asks, a glint of amusement mixed with affection is thrown your way and it makes you smile. Almost.

“Well, I’d like my landlord to be alive.” you say, reminding him about how he had gotten you the place.

He hums then, nodding as he looks up at your standing form as small strands of hair frame your face. It’s almost sunrise and he feels fucking hopeless underneath your gaze, like he’s a teenager again. “That right?”

“Hm.” you nod and speak once more, hand now resting on his thigh and the other on his shoulder as you talk with a softer tone than usual. “He’s a grumpy old man but he’s alright.” you say and it earns a laugh from him.

And it’s not the usual laugh either.

When Alfie laughs, it’s usually at some stupid joke the blokes working with or for him have made a dumb fucking mistake. It’s mocking, degrading in some occasions to make sure the other person knows who’s in charge. It’s rarely because he’s found something funny, seeing as there’s very little humor in his life.

But this time, he really laughs.

You smile at the sound and the vibrations almost make you want to pull him in an embrace but you know where you stand. You hear the commotion from the inside as the girls get ready to leave, as you were about to do before he showed up and realize that it’s much later than usual. You sigh and pull away from him while speaking slowly, tiredness getting the best of you.

It catches him off guard, makes him feel much younger than he is.

“Take me home, Alfie.” you speak and hear an answer right away.

“As you wish, ma’am.”

He is a right bastard.

---

His breathing gets faster by the passing second.

It’s been a while since you’ve been like this with him but it seems as though he’s missed you more than you’ve missed him. The bed creaks each time he moves, sharp groans spill from his mouth and you revel at the sight. His hair is messy in a way that you don’t associate with him, bruises from the fight earlier still on his skin as he moves on top of you.

He’s less aggressive, though. You make a note of it.

A curt thrust brings your attention to the present moment as he moves, at a slower pace now. Like he’s trying to thoroughly enjoy the split moment of you almost adoring him. You smile at him then, it’s a faint one but he catches it as it turns into a small moan at the end. His hips rock at the same, slow pace as he watches the sunrays illuminate your face and hair.

Your eyes close, slowly and your small mewls fill the room along with his grunts here and there. He wants to bask in the glory of the woman laying in front of him. He hears your moans become louder as he moves slightly faster. He takes a moment before fully speeding up, hand gripping the headboard as the mattress moves slightly with each stroke.

Your voice comes out low, like a plea you’re afraid to put out but he hears it. “Slower.”

His eyebrows furrow at that, knowing your climax was near. But he listens, unlike most men, he takes his pace down and kisses you feverishly this time and speaks against your lips. It’s a low murmur when he does, goes back to kissing you once he’s spoken between all teeth and tongue.

“What’s wrong?” he says before kissing you again and you just groan at first, pleased with the pace he’s set even though you know both of you are close.

Your words are muffled against his lips but you speak regardless.

“Just go slow, please.” you speak and it makes him halt for a second.

Because it’s far too gentle.

For a man who works exclusively with dangerous people, the existence of the word ‘please’ sometimes escapes him so acts if kindness makes him slow down on its own. It makes him feel hopeless inside, to know you have graced him with some kindness despite the cruel acts you know he is capable of.

“Alright, lass.” he speaks against your collarbone and kisses his way down until you feel him reach over to connect your lips with his in a kiss.

And you’re right. He reaches his climax right after you do with a low moan, filled with curses you’re sure would make anyone red-faced but you lie still under him, panting with a smile on at the words. He stays like that for a while, kissing your neck and cheeks before he lies down next to you and his eyes are on you again.

Like damn clock-work.

It’s like a ritual of sorts for him. After you’re both done panting and moaning and he’s laying down next to you on the bed, he watches you. You don’t do anything spectacular, just try to catch your breath and sometimes even fall asleep but his gaze doesn’t leave you, not that it bothers you.

Just makes you curious.

You see the glimpses of the man he used to be: young, naughty for sure and maybe a little shy. His beard covers up the blush that rarely graces his cheeks but you see it in his eyes, the giddy man he becomes every now and then. He’s gentle with you, you’re not complaining but merely curious of how he used to be before the cruel ways of world got to him.

“You’re staring again.” you state and he chuckles lowly at that. He’s aware of the fact that it doesn’t bother you.

“Any complaints?” he asks and you can hear the sarcasm dripping from his words.

It makes you wanna punch him.

Because he knows that very little of what he does actually annoys you, yet you act like everything he does is a menace. You won’t admit to it, but you’re fond of him in certain ways that keep you up at night.

“It’s not smart to ask questions when you already know the answer.” you speak and he laughs this time, which makes you look at him with a smile.

He looks happy. Unbothered, like this.

“Smart lass.” he says under his breath as he faces the ceiling and then his eyes are on you again.

He realizes this is where you two always end up.

Doesn’t matter of he’s coming your way with bloody fists or if he’s in your house alone, waiting for you at sunrise and you arrive with bags under your eyes. Your bed seems to be the place where things stand still and it’s only you and him. Not when you’re fucking either, although he’s very much a fan of that part as well. It’s when you lie down next to him that he feels the weight of the world lift from his shoulders and he’s a simple man again.

Not Mr. Solomons but Alfie.

And he knows this is doomed from the start. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You won’t quit, he certainly can’t and it makes the entire ordeal confusing. He reckons he’ll never have you, you’ll never be his but he can settle on being around you. Or so he thinks.

“Is there some secret to winning you?” he whispers at a low tone.

You stare at the ceiling for a minute and make sure you heard him correctly. It wouldn’t matter if there was a secret, you think to yourself before smiling and turning to face him on the bed. There is no smile on his face, just serious questioning.

“Probably not.” you say, unaware of just why he’s asking but you don’t dare question him further when he’s looking at you the way he is.

“Fuckin’ probably eh?” he says once more and it makes your eyebrows furrow.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure.” you say and hold yourself up on the bed by your elbows. Hair messy and eyes wide, you face him and speak once more. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”

He chuckles and then watches you roll out of bed. Your hair is messy from earlier, no matter how many times you try to straighten it down with your hairs. You pick up the robe from the nightstand and shoot him a smile before disappearing into the kitchen to make coffee.

He shakes his head when you ask if he’d like some, hair framing your face. Time is somewhere around six and he’s supposed to head to work, make sure the lads are in place and so are the orders but he finds himself in the kitchen next to you, watching as you make yourself some coffee for the day and look to see he’s already staring.

He likes puzzles, is fond of complex things and enjoys threatening people on occasion. He’s smart, has to be when he’s doing what he does. He prides himself on always having the upper hand but maybe not with you. He takes one look at you then, yeah, definitely not with you.

He decides he likes a challenge, and you’ve provided him with a good one.

---

Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog​ @babylooneytoonz​ @peakascum @fuseburner​ @ttzamara​ @babaohhhriley​ @fairypitou​  @paintballkid711​ @manamajil  @tommydoesntpayforsuits​ 

A/n: Hello! I hope you enjoyed yet another chapter of this. We’re getting close to the end!! Let me know what you thought. You can comment under the post if you’d like to be tagged <3

[heliotropehotch]

as it was - a.h. x fem!reader

Request by @greenprisca​: Hi can I request a Hotch x reader fic! The reader is always there for hotch and jack (took care of them even when Haley was alive), but they both snap at her. Telling her she’s not Haley/his mom. (Y/N) takes a break from them and goes out with a brother or family member that’s a single parent, and the boys see it wrong.

a/n: i contacted tumblr a couple of days ago about my tag issues but i haven’t heard back. boosting this fic, if you like it, could really help tumblr fix whatever issue it’s having with my accounts. its very frustrating, and is making me not wanna post right now, so i might take a bit of time off while i wait for this issue to fix, and while i wait for more requests! ilysm thank you for your support!

Masterlist

author: abby <3

words: 1667

warning: fighting, yelling, mention of past character death

It shouldn’t have happened the way it did. 

The collapse of a perfect world was triggered by a caring act. The end of a long day, the whisper of words turned to shouts, love turned into regret. 

Aaron Hotchner had come back to his home late that night, the smell of dinner flooding through to his nostrils. He smiled, a gesture he missed when he was away on case. He called for Y/N, a presence he had hoped to see. Instead of the giggles of his son and her that usually met his eyes, he was met with quiet, so he headed to his son’s room.

She was moving to close Jack’s bedroom door, having just gotten him to sleep. Her eyes were tired, holding a sadness he had not seen in a long time. He quirked his eyebrow, moving to speak. She shook her head, a finger going to her mouth as she motioned him into the living room.

“How was your day, hun?” she sighed, stirring the pot of food she had made. 

“It was work,” he took his suit jacket off, draping it over a chair before hugging her body from behind. “Did something happen today?”

“I think you’ll need to talk to Jack tomorrow. He yelled at me tonight,” she said sadly, head swimming with thoughts.

“He did what?” he asked concerned, he hadn’t seen his son angry before. 

“I was just trying to put him to bed, but I guess he was having a hard time,” she spoke, recalling the hour before. “So I started humming that song Haley used to sing to get him to sleep, Hey Jude.”

“What?” His body tensed around hers as she continued speaking. 

“I don’t know.” She remained oblivious to his actions. “I thought it would help, but he just got more upset. He shouted saying I wasn’t his mom and started crying. I just held him until he fell asleep.” 

He retracted his arms from around her, hands curling into fists. “You’re not.”

She paused her movements to the dining room to set out plates for the both of them. She asked confused, “What?”

“You’re not his mom,” Aaron’s voice rang stern, anger boiling behind his steely eyes. “You’re not Haley. 

Y/N took a step back, scared of the tone, the implication of the words not said pushing against his lips. “Aaron,” her voice was confused, hurt. “I know that.”

“Then stop trying to act like you are.” He pulled his tie off, chucking it across the couch. “What made you think it was a good idea to do that? Stop trying to be more than what you are.”

“And what exactly am I?” Her voice became louder, not caring about the way it echoed through the hall. 

“A distraction,” he bit out, jaw clenched. “Nothing more than a sound to fill the silence.”

She huffed out a teary, dark chuckle, looking away from the man she’d give up everything for. She grabbed her things, keys jingling as her adrenaline began to wear. “Well, thank you, Hotch,” she bit out, a sarcastic smile on her face. “For having the decency to let me know now. Dinner’s on the fucking stove.”

The silence that was there before her hung in the air as he watched her shut the door, as she watched her leave.

The next morning, Jack Hotchner woke up rubbing sleep out of his eyes, clutching a stuffed animal Y/N had given him for his birthday. He frowned as he saw his father making breakfast in the kitchen.

“Daddy?” he pressed the fuzzy elephant to his chest. “Where’s Y/N?”

Aaron sighed at his son’s confused voice, setting the spatula he was using for pancakes down. He tried to mask his own emotions with the excitement of seeing his son. “Good morning, Buddy! Y/N went home for a bit, she had some other things to do.”

“But I thought this was her home.” Jack’s small little eyebrows furrowed with more confusion. 

“It is,” Hotch knelt down to get on his son’s level. “She just needed some alone time, bud.”

Jack’s eyes began to well up, striking his father’s heart. “Is it my fault?”

Aaron felt his stomach drop with guilt. “Of course not Jack.”

“But I yelled at her.” His lip quivered. “I said she wasn’t mommy.”

“I know buddy-”

“But I don’t care!” Jack was sobbing into his dad’s shoulder now. “I love Y/N, daddy.”

Aaron pressed his distressed son into his chest, shushing his cries against his casual shirt. His own heart ached with regret and words he wanted to take back. He admitted the words he had yet to say, as if to give himself some comfort. “I love her too, Jack. She’ll be back soon, I promise.”

After Jack had calmed down, Hotch decided to spend his day off trying to ease both of their minds. He took Jack to the zoo, carefully avoiding the elephants, and spent what felt like hours staring at the waddling penguins. Jack insisted on getting Y/N an apology stuffed penguin. Then he promised a trip to the park with what Jack called the ‘cool jungle gym.’ 

Jack ran towards the swings as Hotch reclined back into one of the park benches. He smiled to himself momentarily, as he watched his once sad son giggle with the other kids. His grin fell though, as he realized she should be enjoying the day with them. 

He wasn’t sure if Y/N would wait for him, and he honestly didn’t blame her if she didn’t. He had put her through so much, after having cared for both him and Jack when Haley died, and long before she passed as well. He loved Y/N but she couldn’t be blamed for being hurt at the things he had said, and would never mean. 

His eyes glazed over the park, letting out a solemn sigh at the peacefulness that contrasted the interior of his heart. And then he saw her.

Her arms were wrapped around a man, one Hotch hadn’t remembered seeing before, although it felt familiar. Around her own legs, a boy, about Jack’s age, had clung himself to Y/N’s knees, looking up pleadingly. The sweet smile he thought was reserved for his family had worked its way across her face. He almost missed his own son bounding up to where he had planted himself on the bench. 

“Daddy?” Jack called out. “What are you looking at?”

“Hmm?” Hotch said distractingly.

“Who are those people with Y/N? Doesn’t she wanna hang out with us?” Aaron was too preoccupied, watching Y/N pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek. 

“Can I go say hi to her?” he pleaded, tugging on his dad’s hand. 

“Not now, Jack,” he sighed, pulling his now pouting son into his lap. “I think she might be busy, bud.”

Days had passed, without a word from Y/N. Aaron had picked up the phone hundreds of times at that point, wanting to say anything to bring her back into their lives. He had been relying on Jess for help taking care of Jack when he was at work, and had therefore endured a lecture he knew he deserved. 

He got in his car to drive home, sighing at the empty passenger seat next to him. His eyes landed on the stuffed penguin he had bought to please Jack. He sighed once more, knowing he had to do something. 

The front door of Y/N’s apartment was daunting, unfamiliar. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been to her place before, but Jack was right when he said their place was her home. She had basically moved in with them, so the varnish that covered the wooden door only seemed threatening of the barrier he had been putting up. He raised his fist, and knocked on the door. 

Her eyes widened at the distraught man in front of her, promptly turning into a frown with the recognition of Hotch. She moved to close the door again. 

“Y/N, please,” he begged, stoic expression long gone. “I’m sorry.”

“Aaron-”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I hurt you, I know that. But I didn’t mean it.” She stood still, allowing him to speak, and he took a step closer to her, reaching for her hand. “I love you, Y/N. You were never a distraction, only a relief. There’s so much I couldn’t have done with you by our side. We both know you’re not Haley, but I like you better as you are, as someone who cares for my kid like her own, as someone who cares for me when I forget to do it myself.” 

Her hiccups of tears flooded the silence that came when he paused, his hand moving up to her cheek. “If I could take it all back, before I said those words, I would in an instant. Just as it was, just as you were. I just hope you still hold your love for me after what I’ve done.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing his nose into her neck as he breathed her in. She sighed, relieved to have one of the Hotchner’s back in her arms. “I love you, Aaron, even when you decide to act like a dick.”

He chuckled against her, squeezing her body against his before pulling back. Brushing away her tears again, he kissed her forehead, making a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let her go again. Her giggle, brought him out of his soft trance.

“Did you bring me a penguin?”

He smiled sheepishly, pressing the stuffed animal into her palm. “Jack got it as an apology gift to you.”

She pressed it against her chest, clutching it the same way his son had days before. “That’s one sweet kid you’ve got there.”’

“One who desperately wants to see you,” he chuckled again.

“Well,” she said, grabbing her purse and keys. “Let’s go home then.”

[mantistog]

I was wondering if you can take a request for Yandere! Hannibal x reader x Yandere! Will Graham where the reader is very cold hearted so she always rejects Hannibal and Will and so they start killing for her like courtship and they eventually kidnap her and tell her they killed those people for her? Sorry if it’s long and I love your writings keep up the good work!

Bit different than what you wrote, sorry lol. I often get caught up writing, although I hope you still like it. <3

_________________________________________________________

Yandere!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Yandere!Will Graham: Devotion

The first time you rejected them you had been dealing with a sizzling headache for most of the day. It was the kind of headache that spread through the top of your head to the bridge of your nose and to the edge of your neck, making your head heavy and unbearable. The kind of headache that renders you desperate for relief and makes you question if life is even worth it at all. So to say you were irritable was an understatement. They could not have chosen a worse time to try and court you with dinner and fake kindness. 

At first it seemed they had thought your coldness and rejection was a symptom of your vicious headache or your bad mood following it. In reality you were just not at all interested in being part of a weird three way relationship, much less their toxic and gross partnership. The only way to describe it was codependent. It seemed Hannibal loved when people needed him. Or maybe he liked the control that came with someone being under him and having complete control. He did seem like the control freak type. Will on the other hand seemed he needed someone to make him stable. Someone to just handle him, even when he can’t handle himself. 

You needed neither, and you definitely didn’t want it. No one needed to give you a role to make you feel worth something and you didn’t need to define yourself by anyone you chose to date. You were not interested in any aspect of their sick love. Maybe if you had told them that that day instead of telling them politely to fuck off, they would have understood. The next time they had asked you out, it was when you bumped into them by accident. What for you had forgotten, but you needed flowers. Maybe it was a funeral, or maybe it was one of your friends' birthdays. You had never been good with gifts, always giving people things you’d liked. The flower you had chosen was a large bouquet of sunflowers, a big beautiful one that went well with the season. Sunflowers were your favourite, too. When you had bumped into them you had accidentally let that slip, when Hannibal had asked what occasion called for sunflowers. He had always looked far too deep into everything, making him too pretentious for your liking. Who cared if the flower was wrong for the occasion, if it was pretty? 

Either way you had told them in exact words that whatever they were trying to invite you to was not going to happen, and you were not in any way interested in any of them. Hannibal had of course tried to goat you into coming for dinner as a ‘friend’. Will was less tactful, seeming rather distraught. You disagreed, your patience thin. You simply walked away without even a goodbye. A lot of your friends would call you cold, or mean. To you it just meant you didn’t lie or deal with peoples shit. You were okay with being called cold if it meant you didn’t have to bother with putting up fake courtesies. 

When the pictures of the body came to you a few months later, you had completely forgotten the interaction. They had seemed much less pushy in their pursuit and you had to some degree even forgotten they had even tried to court you. In some way, the body was beautiful. The way the skin seemed so pale, like porcelain, matched so well with the vibrant yellow of the flowers. The body wasn’t even the focus of the masterpiece, it was the canvas for which the sunflowers were painted. The body was perched on a set of antlers, and it made you think it must have been the chesapeake ripper. 

But the motive was so different. Violation, cannibalism and the act of murder was always what you saw on the crime scenes from him. But this was not anything violent in nature itself. There was barely any blood anywhere on the body, it looked barely touched. She was almost alive, if it was not for the paleness and cold of her skin. Some of it looked even blue. You wondered what Will would gather of the body, if he would come to the same conclusion as you. 

You were surprised when he claimed it to be a love proclamation, yet still insisted that it was the ripper. Will knew better than you, when it came to all this, so you didn’t bother arguing with him. He insisted something must have changed in the ripper's life. That he must have found someone or something worth his art. It seemed almost unlikely to you, that someone like the ripper could be possible of love. Jack seemed to agree with you, which at least put your mind at ease. 

It wasn’t long before the next body turned up, in the same state as the last. So well preserved it was eerie. The body was exactly the same as the last, but the sunflowers were backed by bouquets of flowers. Just like with the last body, you didn’t connect the dots. But you still briefly thought about how pretty it was. You loved all those flowers, and you had to stop yourself from letting that thought fester. It would be too morbid to find it beautiful. 

Bodies kept turning up like that, so different but all so similar too. And after the 4th one you started to notice a pattern of the things the bodies were adorned with and that it was all things you found nice. But the 5th drove it home, putting it just beyond a coincidence for you. Just a week before the body turned up you had an altercation with your neighbor about a noise complaint after you had some friends over. You were complaining about it for a week, the fact that you didn’t see him again didn’t even cross your mind. You were too busy being caught up in your own spite to notice his absence at all. Until you saw the pictures of his body. Unlike the almost artistic and beautiful vision portrayed through the previous bodies, this one was malicious and predatory like the other victims of the ripper. 

It was like the pictures snapped you back to reality. All those bodies, it was all too close to home. You hadn’t asked for this. All you had done was complain. You went home early that day, overcome with a sense of guilt. You stayed home the next day too, calling in sick. You kept going over who it could be in your life. Will had deemed the killing proclamations of love, yet you couldn’t find one person who had shown any kind of interest in you. That was until you remembered the rejections. The lead was so thin, that you honestly felt bad for even thinking about it, but it was quickly squashed when you thought about it further. You had always found Hannibal creepy and probably capable of murder. And Will was unstable to the point where you didn’t even question his capabilities. 

You went back to work as normal after that. You made sure not to say anything personal, or complain about anyone when Hannibal or Will came near you. It went pretty smooth, and while everything was laying dormant in their relationship and your mind, you focused on trying to come up with a plan to see if it was them. But as mundanity rolled back into your life, you started chatting with your coworkers the same as you always had. And you made a mistake. You hadn’t even noticed Will was in the room as your back faced the doorway of the breakroom talking about a guy you had met at your local cafe. You were interested in him. It wasn’t often you were, and you had just let it slip in excitement. You didn’t even notice until you got spooked by a cough behind you that he had been there the whole time, pouring coffee. You fretted going home that day, scared of what would happen.

You couldn’t remember exactly when you had fallen asleep, but you woke up feeling really tired and stiff, with the faintest of headaches growing in the back of your skull. Yet you felt nice, pulling the duvet closer to your face to try and put pressure on your head and alleviate some of the headache. The duvet was  soft, and it smelled faintly of manly cologne. A cologne that wasn’t yours. Suddenly the gears in your head turned, and you shot upright, looking around suspiciously. The room is unfamiliar to you, but at the end of the bed you see Will, asleep. He’s sitting on the floor, propped up on the bed with his hands reaching upwards towards you, his face down on the sheets. He looks almost cute, like that. You almost consider waking him, to talk to him about this, but you quickly decide not to. Could you even make it to the door without him waking?

You look over at the half open door, at the other side of the room from the bed. But before you can even calculate the chances of your escape the door opens further, creaking in the process and startling Will awake. Hannibal is looking at you with a smile, and your blood runs cold at how creepy and insincere it is. Will scrambles to stand up, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring up at you. His expression was so emotional, mixed with both pity and something akin to happiness. He looks like he is approaching one of his wild dogs, moving very slow and cautiously. 

“Why?” Is all you manage to ask, when in reality you probably had hundreds of questions you wanted to ask them. But you don’t manage to eliquate a good question. It prompts Hannibal to step into the room fully, and you can now see that he is whipping his hands with a small cloth, indicating he was probably making something in his kitchen, like he always did. He cocks his head confused and Will scoots himself closer again. “That’s a very broad question. You’re going to have to reconvey.” Hannibal says. Your mouth scrunches up as the fake smile appears back on his face. It’s obvious you’re displeased, and you can’t help but grow a bit hostile. 

“Why am I here? Why do you murder innocent people?  Why am I alive?” You snap, looking at them with pure anger. It feels good, to finally tell them off again. Hannibal's fake smile drops, and he opens his mouth to reply but Will is already sitting by you, grabbing your hands in his. You’re too stunned to say anything. “We did it for you, can’t you see?” He pleads. But no, you still don’t understand. You will never understand. All you can feel at this point is exasperation. “You’re crazy. Neither of you even know what love means.” 

Will smiles, bringing your hands closer to his face, despite you half heartedly pulling them away. He kisses your knuckles gently. 

“Breakfast is ready.” Hannibal says, as if everything is normal. As if you’re not kidnapped. As if you’re not the cause of over 5 dead people. 

As if you love them.

[parseisflat]

@parvuls​ made this post! and then @ivecarvedawoodenheart​ made one based on it so now i’m copying both of you <3

1) a fic that made you cry actual tears

Ice Crew Please! by @petals42​ (t, 61.4k, zimbits)

this is probably one of those obvious fic recs because everyone has read this fic but... oh my god. it’s so incredibly touching and cathartic to read. this fic beautifully encapsulated everything i love about found family hhhhh

2) a comfort fic

The Decision to Act by @potrix-the-queerschlaeger​ (t, 2.1k, nurseydex)

i initially bookmarked this fic because it put me in a good mood! it starts off with drunk, tactile nurse and nursey patrol and it combines some of my favorite tropes (mostly hinging on their stupidity, of course). it’s a nice, short read and definitely something i would turn to to cheer up

3) free space

And Miles to Go (Before I Wake) by CoffeeStars (t, 6.5k, patater)

this one is a coraline au! it’s so insanely good, i vividly remember reading it and just being so entranced. it’s the best mix of heartbreaking, unsettling and even funny at times. it was also incredibly romantic.

4) a fic with a trope you don’t normally read but still loved

Inertia by @foryouandbits​ (t, 62.5k, zimbits)

not sure if this counts as a trope but this fic is an inter-dimensional travel au which is just, so creative? the worldbuilding in this one is so well done. i read so much fic it tends to blur together but i remember little details about this one, it’s so good

5) a fic that is angst but hurts so good

stones through stained glass windows by @omgpoindexter​ (t, 14.2k, nurseydex)

this fic is one of the best explorations of dex’s character growth/relationship with his sexuality that i have ever read. and the found family? this fic looked me in the eyes, x-rayed me and said hey, i know your pain because i’ve felt it too. this fic is a fucking lifestyle.

6) a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before

The Dream of Having No Room by @omg-whiskey​ (e, 110.8k, whiskent)

there’s no way whiskey x kent would’ve ever crossed my mind had it not been for this author. this fic explores the intricacies of both of their characterizations with such detail and care.

7) a different meeting au

Real Gone by Moransroar (g, 11.3k, zimbits)

it’s a greasers au! something about the tone of this piece and the images it painted in my mind just really hit for me. the characterizations are really interesting, i was just really immersed in this one :)

8) a fic that made you laugh out loud

Say my name, say my name by @omgchyeahplease​ (t, 4.5k, zimbits)

a really hilarious fic focusing on the falconers and jack. it has some really great oc’s! the idea was that a very tired jack doesn’t register that “bittle”=“eric” and he’s like “who the fuck is eric” which elicits the obvious conclusion that they broke up and jack is now pretending his ex doesn’t exist :’( hilarious miscommunication, please go read it

9) a wip you read as it was updated

Baking with the Stars by sweetsoutherncuisine (g, 7.6k as of now, zimbits)

i rarely ever read wips, which should tell you something. i found it on its first or second chapter, it’s currently at 7/8. it’s a baking competition show au! and it’s so well done! the dynamic between jack and bits was so fun, but i really am enjoying the storyline, plus there were a few moments where i was so proud of the characters :)

10) a fic with a ship that isn’t your main ship

(the use of) nostalgia (for what didn’t happen) by @someobscurereference​ (t, 3.3k, jenny/mandy and holsom)

this fic is incredible. there was so many little funny moments (and sad ones as well), and i just fell in love with all of the characters. i will definitely be rereading this one. it’s an au where jenny and mandy are alive and ransom is the ghost. i’m not good at this just go read it trust me

[pinnithin-writes]

The First: Aftermath (Part 2)

A collaborative work between myself and @reneethecyborg on what happened after Lupin III: The First. Part 2 of 4, 1609 words.

It never ceases to amaze Zenigata how quickly things tend to spiral out of control when the Lupin gang is involved. Just a few days ago, he was staking out a Parisian museum in hopes of preventing Lupin from stealing some old diary with vague ties to his grandfather. The stakeout had sort of worked, excepting Lupin’s usual dramatic escape at the last second. Then radio silence for a day or so, until Lupin popped up again in the middle of Mexico for no clear reason. That’s when things really got complicated, as they almost always do with these people.

While arresting Lupin may be the cornerstone of his career, Zenigata’s primary goal has always been to uphold justice and root out corruption wherever it may lurk—even among his own coworkers, from time to time. With that in mind, it’s not terribly surprising that he often finds himself forming a temporary alliance with the Lupin gang when there’s a greater evil to deal with, and there are few greater evils than the one they’ve come up against this time.

All in all, things seem to have worked out alright. The entirety of the Brazil base’s manpower was either taken into custody or gunned down when Interpol (and the Lupin gang) stormed the place, the Eclipse device was kept out of the wrong hands, and Laetitia Bresson can get on with her life as a bright young woman with a promising career in archaeology to look forward to, finally free of the dark cloud hanging over her.

But something still isn’t sitting right with Zenigata.

He would never admit to giving them a head start—it would sound too much like he’s going soft—but it didn’t seem fair to chase the Lupin gang out on a rail before they had a chance to say goodbye to their new friend. From where Zenigata had been watching on Interpol’s own boat, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice, the whole affair seemed rather subdued. Lupin didn’t perform any of his usual grand gestures of farewell; Laetitia had hugged him, but he ended it fairly quickly and spent most of their conversation on the speedboat, like he was trying to keep a bit of distance between them.

The pursuit didn’t last long, on account of the fact that they could hardly leave Laetitia stranded there on the pier, but what little he saw before cutting the gang loose left a bad taste in his mouth. Again Lupin lacked his usual grandstanding and bravioso—no cheeky waving, no jumping around hurling childish barbs as the speedboat careened off into the sunset.

As a detective, Zenigata’s job is to make inferences based on whatever scraps of information he can wring out of a situation. In this case, the information he has leads to one conclusion: whatever happened on that plane, it didn’t go anywhere near as smoothly as Lupin insisted it would when he originally pitched his plan to destroy the Eclipse personally. There’s other supporting evidence, too; when the plan was originally hashed out, Lupin claimed he would set the Eclipse to destroy itself and then immediately bail out before it could become a danger to him. But when the time came, nobody saw him at all until long after the plane had begun to consume itself, and even then he didn’t have his parachute.

Something went wrong up there, Zenigata’s sure of it. If he had to guess, he would suppose that Geralt wasn’t as much of a pushover as Lupin seemed convinced he would be. They probably fought—or rather, Geralt fought while Lupin danced around making a fool of himself. Given the nature of Lupin’s scheme, it would stand to reason that Geralt might have come at him with everything he had. People tend to abandon all pretense when their ideology and life’s work goes up in smoke before their eyes. With that in mind, it’s very likely that Lupin took a beating before he could get away. That would explain his behavior after the fact, if he were injured.

Of course, there’s not really anything Zenigata can do about his theory, regardless of whether he turns out to be right. Going back for Laetitia meant he had absolutely no chance of catching the Lupin gang, or even tracking where they might have gone; he’s got a hunch they’re still somewhere in Brazil, but that’s not enough to work with. And there’s still all the logistics and busywork that come after a caper like this—reports to write and fact-check and edit, charges to file against the surviving Nazis, favors to cash in so Laetitia can make her way back to France (and then, shortly, to Boston) without too much hassle.

Zenigata is going to be up to his neck in paperwork for the rest of the month making sure this mess is sorted out properly and without any mistakes, and that’s assuming everything goes smoothly when it comes to filing charges. He’d like to believe his annoyance at being chained to his desk is purely a result of not being able to hunt down the Lupin gang after having no choice but to let them slip away, but he’d be lying to himself. The truth of the matter is that he’s worried, and there’s nothing to be done about it now except grind through the paperwork and wait to see if they resurface any time soon.

Just as Zenigata’s considering calling it quits for the night, his desk phone rings. That in itself isn’t terribly unusual, but everybody who’s needed to speak with him about today’s chaos has come to him directly—the building’s internal lines have been tangled up for hours with all the cross-department communication. It must be someone from outside the building, then, and Zenigata has a strong hunch who it might be. “Inspector Zenigata,” he says automatically.

“It’s Jigen.”

That’s what Zenigata was hoping for. “I’m not going to bother asking where you are.” Jigen would never say, and it would be impossible to trace the call before he loses his patience and hangs up. Besides, he’s almost certainly calling from a payphone, and that’s only marginally more useful information than ‘probably somewhere in Brazil’.

“Good. Saves us some time.” He sounds about as terse as usual—his gruff demeanor doesn’t translate well to phone conversations—but there’s something else there. Maybe he’s tired. “Just wanted to let you know we made it to dry land.”

Well, that’s good. Pretty vague reassurance, though. “And you’re all alright?” He can’t be blamed for probing a bit. It’s basically his job.

A brief pause. Not a good sign. “We’re all alive, if that’s what you mean.” Definitely not a good sign. Jigen sighs, or maybe it’s just static on the line. “Look, pops, I’ll level with you. Lupin’s not doing too hot. He’ll live,” he adds hastily, cutting off any possible miscommunication.

So Zenigata’s hunch was right. It’s no victory, all things considered. “How bad is it?”

Another pause, though this one is less loaded. “Not as bad as it could’ve been. He didn’t get shot this time, for once.” Lupin had mentioned his plan to palm Geralt’s bullets before they disembarked. Sounds like he pulled it off. “But that prick really did a number on him. Broke some ribs, fucked up his arm. Nearly crushed his throat, looks like.”

Zenigata finds himself gripping the receiver more tightly as he imagines what might have happened to cause those injuries, anger bubbling into his chest. Lupin may be a criminal, but nothing he’s done would ever warrant such brutality. “And you and Goemon, you two have it under control?” If they needed a proper doctor, Zenigata might find himself too busy to notice any reports that might come in regarding notable patients in the area. He’s got a lot of work to do, after all.

“I think so. It’ll mostly just take rest. Lots of rest.”

“Are you sure you can make that happen? Lupin won’t like it.”

“We’ll chain him down if we have to.” Jigen says it flatly, but there’s a hint of humor under there.

The situation must not be too dire, if he’s able to crack jokes. “Well, thanks for telling me. I really appreciate it, Jigen.” He won’t admit that he’s been fretting since he had to make the call to turn the boat around.

“No problem. It’s what Lupin would want, anyway.” Jigen pauses again; there’s a faint tapping noise, like he’s drumming his fingers on the receiver a little too close to the mouthpiece. “Pops, do yourself a favor. Take a vacation once you’re done cleaning up the Nazi mess. We’re not gonna let Lupin do jack shit for at least a month or two, so you’d be wasting your time waiting up for us.”

Now that he mentions it, a vacation sounds nice. Zenigata does get to travel a lot, but only for work; he hardly has time to take in the sights or buy souvenirs. “A month or two, huh? I’m holding you to that. I want a clean bill of health before you even think about another heist, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jigen sighs more than says. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I’ll tell Lupin you said hi.”

And just like that, the line goes dead. In terms of the Lupin case, Zenigata still has no leads, but he can’t bring himself to be particularly upset about it. He got the information he was hoping for, and he can’t really ask for more than that. Instead, he returns to his paperwork and makes a mental note to look into attending Laetitia’s archaeology seminar in Boston next month.

Part 1 (by Pin) < --- > Part 2 (by Cosma) < --- > Part 3 (by Pin)

[lightforthedeadvine]

Title: How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

Author: @lightforthedeadvine – Anwamane_13 on AO3

Written for: @localwhiskeylez

Gift Exchange:  @destielsecretsanta2020​

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Word count: 11.905

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fix-it | Post15x20 | Gift Exchange | Light angst | Happy ending | A bit of fluff

AN: Wow, I can't believe it's done! I really hope you like it, @localwhiskeylez! Sorry for any typos, English is not my first language. Merry Christmas!

How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

How Dean Winchester realizes that the love of his life is his best friend and, being the moron that he is, it only happens after he's already dead.

                                                   INTRODUCTION

This article seeks to help the reader to solve unfinished business during their life on Earth. It is an observational interventionist study, based on the author's life. Some angels and demons were injured during the execution of the study, but the fact only serves as a background to illustrate the situations in which the author found himself and are important for the understanding of the facts.

1-    When you’re still alive, be emotionally constipated.

Cas dies and Dean can’t get up, can’t look anywhere except at his wings, frail and broken shadows engraved on the ground. This is it. This time Cas’ death is for good. Dean isn’t ready for this, he can’t deal with this, he needs to get up and pretend he’s not there, kneeling on the ground next to his best friend’s body. His mind is empty and too full at the same time.

The thing is, Cas has died before, but Dean had never been left with his body to deal with. It makes his death more real somehow. So, he wraps the body with the old curtains, and he refuses Sam’s help. He doesn’t need anyone right now. They burn Cas, a hunter’s funeral. Dean listens to Sam trying to explain to a confused Jack that it’s time to say goodbye, but he can’t say anything. The flames are high and Dean can’t stop thinking that Cas deserved so much better than this. In the back of his mind there’s something he should have done, something he should have said, some way he could have showed Cas how appreciated he was. But Dean is not sure what it is, and he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to feel anything, or rather, he can’t look at what he’s feeling too closely, or he’ll lose it.

Later, he loses it in booze, he punches the door until his knuckles bleed, he hates everything, he yells at Sam, he wishes he’d had kept Cas’ coat, so he could keep it in the Impala’s trunk, like before. He’s not sad, he’s furious. Stupid angel, getting himself killed like that. Stupid, stupid angel. Sam, the giant girl that he is, wants to talk, but Dean snorts and refuses to acknowledge anything that resembles a chick flick moment.

He doesn’t cry.

2-    When someone tells you he loves you, don’t say anything.

“I love you”, Cas says, and he puts his bloodied hand on Dean’s shoulder. He pushes Dean to the floor, and when the Empty comes, Cas has a slight smile on his lips. He looks…  in peace, almost. Angelic. And then he’s gone.

Dean thinks “why didn’t he tell me about the deal” and “this can’t be real” and “I need him to come back”. He looks at the wall and there’s nothing there indicating that his friend, the best friend one could ever have, just vanished through it.

Dean’s mind is running so fast he can barely keep up with it. Cas’ ‘I love you’ keeps ringing in his ears, playing in the back of his head, like a broken record. Dean is astonished. He had no idea. He didn’t know. He feels that this ‘I love you’ was very different from the ‘I love you, all of you’ Cas said when Crowley saved him from dying poisoned, with Dean, Sam and Mary not knowing what to do, how to stop Cas‘ death. Dean knows Cas meant a whole different thing this time; he could see it in Cas’ eyes. This time Cas meant the love kind of love. Dean had no idea an angel could even feel this kind of love. But if he knew, would it have changed anything? It’s not as if Dean would say it back, it’s not as if he deserves this love, an angel’s love. For fuck’s sake, it’s ludicrous.

Dean said nothing, he just kept shaking his head no and saying dumb things like ‘what are you talking about’ and ‘don’t do this’. He said nothing meaningful in Cas’ last moments, nothing his best friend could take with him to the Empty to justify the sacrifice he was making. He wonders if Cas thought he didn’t care, but probably not, because the stupid angel has always seen the best in him; something Dean is not even sure it’s there.

Cas said he loved Dean. And Dean didn’t say anything. He has no idea what he could have said, but he should have said something. Anything. Cas gave his life to save Dean’s, and Dean just stood there; just let him go.

His cell phone rings but Dean has no idea how to answer it. He looks at the wall again. He can’t speak right now, he’s not even worthy of speaking right now. Dean puts his hands on his head, cover his eyes, tries to leave the world outside for a while longer. His head, his heart, his whole being hurts.

This time he cries. This time Dean sobs.

3-    After losing someone you care about, live the rest of your life pretending you’re ok with it.

Miracle jumps on the bed and Dean holds his dog close for a while, taking comfort from his furry best friend. They grew very attached to each other, and so far, no one has come to claim the dog, so Dean is confident he’ll be able to keep it for good. He gets up, getting ready for another day of Sam making breakfast, going for a run, maybe calling Eileen or Jody and Donna. Dean will walk Miracle, maybe. Watch old reruns, make pancakes, even though Sam will complain one shouldn’t eat breakfast food for lunch, and have a tasteless salad, as always. Dean doesn’t care, Miracle will help him with the stack of pancakes. He still needs to finish filling the job application on his desk, but he’s not in a hurry. He has all the time in the world, right? No one is controlling them now, and Jack  sounded like he’d let things run free.

When Sam mentions Jack and Cas, Dean says they should keep on living, because that’s what Jack and Cas would want them to do. The truth is, he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he shoves a huge piece of pie into his mouth. He knows Jack is around, in every drop of rain and every wind, and inside and out of the bunker, like he said… but Dean’s almost sure they’re never gonna see him again, and he misses the kid. As for Cas… Dean has no idea what the Empty’s like, but an eternity of nothing sounds like an endless punishment worse than hell, and once again, he can’t help thinking that Cas deserved better. Before he can think how much he misses his best friend, he decides to focus on anything other than the dull ache inside him every time he thinks of Cas’ sacrifice. Cas died so they could live, and they’re gonna live, dammit.

Sam pushes pie into Dean’s face and hearing his laugh makes Dean think that everything is gonna be alright, eventually. His baby brother’s laugh is one of the things that keeps him going these days. He’s grateful for that. Content, if not happy.

4-    A crucial point for doing something after being dead is dying. So… die.

This one is hard to explain.

Dean doesn’t want to die. But as it is, death comes in the most stupid way possible, and he doesn’t want to fight anymore. He’s tired. He doesn’t want Sam to call an ambulance, because it’s not gonna work and he doesn’t want the kid to get his hopes up. The rusty thing inside his lungs hurt like a motherfucker, it’s getting hart to breathe and his mind is fuzzy.

Sammy, he thinks. Sammy’s the most important thing here. Dean needs to tell his little brother how much he loves him, because he knows he hasn’t said it enough. He needs Sam to know he’s always been the most important thing in his life, ever since John put baby Sam in  his arms inside a burning house and told Dean to protect him. He needs Sam to know that Dean doesn’t regret being Sam’s mother, father, old brother and friend; he doesn’t regret not having a childhood because he knows, he knows, he gave Sam one; at least the best he could. Dean needs Sam to tell him he’ll be alright; that Dean can go in peace; that Sam will get a life for himself  after this.

4.1 - Ignore any mention of your best friend and give only a small smile when being told he’s not in the Empty anymore;

‘Cas helped’, Bobby says. Jack made this incredible Heaven for everyone and Cas helped. Bobby arches one eyebrow when he mentions Cas, and Dean pretends he doesn’t notice. He smiles slightly, comforted by the fact that his friend is not in the Empty anymore. He hoped, no, he knew Jack would set his chosen father free, but somehow, he never asked him. He doesn’t know why. He could say he was in some kind of daze, caused by the shock of everything that had just happened, but… it’s not an excuse; he should have asked Jack about Cas, and he didn’t. Sometimes Dean is really stupid.

4.2 -  Spend forty something years driving and waiting for your brother to join you in the afterlife.

Suddenly, Baby is there.

Although time moves different in Heaven, it’s a bit, well, a lot strange that right at the end of the long road, probably the Axis Mundi, Sam is there in the fucking bridge, as if he’d been waiting for Dean. Has Dean just spent forty years driving? Really? What about Mom and Dad? Why didn’t Dean go see them? What about Ellen and Jo, probably right there inside the Roadhouse,  where Bobby was… why didn’t Dean get inside? What about Cas? Isn’t it strange that Cas wasn’t there to welcome him to the afterlife? And… Dean didn’t do anything except wait for his brother for four decades? This is surreal.

The happiness he fells  when he hears Sam’s voice, though,  is indescribable. Somehow, he knows time has passed and Sam had a life, a fucking normal apple pie life, and Dean is so, so grateful his brother got to have that. As for him, he can finally stop worrying about the kid. Sam has always been Dean’s everything, and now it’s as if… his work is done.

“Eileen and I… it didn’t work; she… was traumatized, I guess. Being around a Winchester was more dangerous than any monster,” Sam says when they’re in the car, returning home, wherever the heck ‘home’ is. “And Dean’s mother…  she got pregnant; we hadn’t planned anything. She, um… didn’t know I was a hunter, so I kind of… I retired, started working as a paralegal. But we were too different, it didn’t work anyway, and she left when Dean was fifteen.”

“Dude, you named your kid after me?” Dean is all smiles.

“Dean Robert Winchester,” Sam says, proudly. “A great kid. Preferred his ink on his right arm.”

“You didn’t raise him as a hunter, did you?”

“Hell no,” Sam snorts, “but here and there a hunter came looking for advice, and… the kid was smart, figured there was something strange going on. And on his sixteenth birthday a shapeshifter moved to our backyard, so…”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the bunker?” Dean wants to know. If Sam worked in a law firm, what happened to the bunker?

Sam suddenly looks uncomfortable. “I, um… I gave it to Jody, Donna and the girls. They did a great job over the years, built a really big net, organized the branches… Claire and Kaia, they’re, like, top hunters in the country now.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Dude, that’s great, but…”

“I couldn’t do it, Dean,” Sam says in a hurry, earnest. “It wasn’t the same without you. There was no one else. I was alone, and I… I just couldn’t.”

Dean pretends he doesn’t feel a pang in his chest at hearing how bad it was for Sam. But hey, heaven or not,  he’s not gonna start a sharing and caring scene with Sam now, right? “What about Miracle?”

“Lived for twelve years more, was Dean’s best friend.”

“Dude, I’m never gonna get used to this. You named your kid after me. Wow, I mean… I know I’m important, but… didn’t know you couldn’t live without a Dean in your life,” Dean jokes.

But Sam is serious. “I really couldn’t.”

“No chick flick moments, Samantha,” Dean tries to lighten the mood, because, shit. He expected Sam to miss him, of course… but not like this.

Sam appears to take the bait. “Jerk.”

Dean laughs. “Bitch.”

5-      In Heaven, pretend you’re not looking for your Angel best friend.

Mary and John live not far from the Roadhouse, just like Bobby said. Their house is a replica of the Lawrence house, the one that caught fire. Dean thinks it’s creepy that Mary ends up living in the same house in which she died, but hey, she seems happy. They both do.

“So, dad, how did you get this house? Not that I remember much of it, but me and Dean, we went back there for a case,” Sam asks, eyeing Mary, because well, she was the ghost that lived there. She just smiles quietly at him. “From what I can see, it seems just like the old one.”

John looks different. At peace. The lines on his face seem softer, leaving him with a younger appearance. Mary’s presence did this, Dean can’t help thinking. Having a forever with the love of your life can do this to a person. Not that Dean knows from experience since he’s never had a… never mind. Lisa was never the love of his life, and Dean doesn’t want to think about her; still hurts.

His father’s eyes radiate happiness. It’s a bit strange, in a good way. “We were together in our private heaven,” he tells. “But I confess, it was a little boring, because it never changed. Then they came,” he shrugs, “and everything changed.”

“They?” Dean asks.

Mary smiles. “Mostly, Jack. He came and… we had a serious talk. It was never his fault, how I came here. He was distressed, and I pushed too hard.” She holds John’s hand. “Jack said we shouldn’t be separated from the ones we loved, because there is space for everyone. So he opened all the doors, fixed all the bridges, and suddenly our friends, family… they were all there. We started to build a heaven where we could all live together…”

“And Cas suggested it would be a good idea if we lived in our old house,” John finishes. “He built this for us exactly as we remembered it.”

Dean arches his eyebrows. Cas? Since when is his father on a nickname basis with Cas? “You know him? Cas?” he can’t help asking.

“Of course he knows Cas,” Mary laughs. “he’s Jack’s right arm. Everyone knows him.”

“And where is he?” Dean asks.

Mary shrugs. “Around,” she says enigmatically.

Okay. Dean frowns a little. A guy dies and his best friend doesn’t come to greet him? Then he changes the subject, because really? Not a pleasant thing to think about.

-------

Ellen and Jo are still in the Roadhouse by the time Dean gets back there. Sam stayed behind with their parents. But Dean suddenly needs to see everything and everyone. As if he has already lost too much time. And, maybe he has, driving through the Axis Mundi, waiting for Sam. But hey, now he has all of eternity, right?

“So, how does it work? This heaven?” he asks, while Ellen pours him a one more shot of Johnny Walker.

“We just… live. We do what we want and see who we want. When Cas built this place for us, ‘cause I said I preferred to work; you know me, I’m no woman to sit still… anyways, he said that the things we’ve always wanted to do, but it was never the right time…”

“Or…” Jo smiles, standing beside her mother, “we were always busy killing the next monster… well, these things, we could do them all now, you know? And… it’s freeing, really.”

“Cas built this place” Dean repeats like a parrot, not really paying attention to what they’re saying. “You mean my friend, Cas.”

Ellen raises her eyebrows. “Do you know any other Cas?”

“Nope.”

It’s annoying, really. Cas built the Roadhouse for Ellen and Jo? That’s great, they more than deserve it, but… he didn’t take the time to see Dean when he arrived?

------

Things are starting to get ridiculous.

Dean has visited and met a lot of people since he arrived. And apparently, since Jack decided to rebuild heaven, Cas has:

a)      Built a house for Bobby and Karen, and the woman was delighted by his manners. Such a handsome and polite ‘boy’.

b)      Found Charlie’s mother, Gertrude Middleton, they had a teary and wonderful reunion and now they live together by the mountains, where the internet (in Heaven? Huh…) is better than any other place on Earth.

c)      Rescued Kevin from ghost-life. The boy spends his days playing cello and going on dates with Channing. Linda Tran is around too.

d)      Eileen died on a hunt a few years after Dean. Cas found her parents and she finally found her happy ever after with them.

e)      Gave back Pamela’s eyes, and the psychic went traveling around the heaven-world, eager to seeeverything.

So, it’s Cas this, Cas that, blah blah blah. Dean is getting annoyed.

Oh! On top of that, Kelly Kline apparently sees him a lot. In fact, she sees him more than she sees her own son, since Jack is always busy being the almighty and all. How does Dean know? He finds Kelly by chance while walking around, and as soon as she greets him, she asks “Have you seen Castiel yet?” with a knowing smile. He hasn’t, of course. And then she wastes no time telling him how wonderful Cas is for helping Jack with the heaven thing, since her son is young and has a lot to do. Apparently, Cas and Kelly spend a lot of time together, talking. Dean changes the subject and leaves as soon as he can. He is not jealous, of course. Of course not.

Dean is not only annoyed now. He’s a little hurt. As if his friendship didn’t really mean anything for the angel. Part of him thinks it’s stupid, because Cas loves him, he said so, didn’t he? But his absence is telling. Somehow, Dean knows Cas doesn’t want to see him. He just knows.

6-    When you see him, try to talk about the elephant in the room, even if he clearly doesn’t want to.

It’s a bit strange, this heaven Jack has created. Because now time seems linear, and Dean has no idea how this happened, since it went by so fast before Sam arrived. But now there are days and nights and an endless string of people Dean wants to see and spend time with. So much, that he has no idea where he’s supposed to live, but he doesn’t ask anyone. He sleeps at his parent’s house, or Charlie’s place, or at Bobby’s. It’s a wonder he sleeps at all, because he really doesn’t need it; he’s dead, they all are. But they eat and drink and sleep, and they have long, long talks, like a never-ending party with all the burgers, pies and beer Dean could ever want.

It’s great.

Also, it feels a  little bit… empty.

So, Christmas comes. Apparently, this is a special time in heaven too.  There’s a party at the park and Dean finds himself in charge of the cheeseburgers. He’s there, by the grill, flipping the patties and making sure they don’t burn. Then Dean sees him.

He’s standing by the lake. Different clothes, the dark jeans and blue t-shirt look so unusual for him, but Dean would recognize that head of dark hair anywhere. Cas is not looking at him, he’s talking to a couple, an open smile on his face, so different from the burdened expression he always wore. Dean forgets about the grill and everything else. He just walks towards him, his heart thundering in his chest and a million questions in his head.

“Cas!” he calls before he reaches him, arms opening to hug him, and Cas turn his head, his very blue eyes wide and …

Oh.

There’s no immediate recognition in those eyes.

It’s not Cas. It’s Jimmy Novak.

Dean’s arms fall. “Jimmy,” he says, just to make sure. He deflates like an empty balloon.

“You’re… Dean, right?” Jimmy says, and shit, Dean should have never had mistaken him with Cas. His eyes are exactly the same, but Cas’ eyes sparkle when they look at Dean, and Jimmy’s just… don’t. And the voice, there’s no way this… generic,  normal voice could ever belong to Cas. Even his relaxed posture is completely different than Cas’.

“Yeah. Dean Winchester,” he says, because now he has to make small talk with the guy, and he really, really doesn’t want to. His chest gives a funny pang looking at him, and Dean thinks of Claire, for the first time really understanding what she went through whenever she looked at Cas and thought of her father. Dean is looking at one, wanting to see the other, because they look the same but they’re so, so different, and it’s just...disappointing doesn’t even get close.

“It’s good to see you, Dean,” Jimmy says solemnly. “Is your brother well?”

“Yeah, he’s… around.” Dean says, looking around, already knowing he won’t find Sam here, because his brother found Bobby’s library and, the big nerd he is, he must be reading somewhere, even though they don’t hunt anymore. “But there’s so much lore here, Dean!” he’s said, eyes sparkling.

“That’s great,” Jimmy says, and then he frowns a little. “Where’s Castiel?”

“How the hell will I know?” Dean lets out, the he looks at Jimmy apologetically. “Haven’t seen him.”

Now Jimmy looks a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, I’ve just put my foot in my mouth. It’s just that – that Castiel was always thinking about you when we were sharing my – my -” he gestures at himself.

They’re both saved by a burning smell.

“The burgers are burning, you idjit!” Bobby screams from somewhere, and Dean just looks at Jimmy, gives him a yellow half-smile and leaves, relieved. He never loved the smell of burning burgers so much.

----

It’s late, everyone has gone home. Dean doesn’t have a home to go to, and he really doesn’t care about it right now. He’d be there alone, anyway. He has no idea how much time has passed since he came here, and it’s a bit disorienting. He’s sitting by the pond, where he saw Jimmy earlier. He’d be drinking right now, if he thought it would help him forget. Can you get drunk when you’re dead?

He’s not an ungrateful bastard. He knows he’s in heaven, and it’s – it’s just great, something he’d never thought he’d have. And wow, his family and dearest friends are here with him, and things couldn’t be better. He’s grateful for everything, and if Jack were here, he’d hug the hell out of the kid. Um… deity. Almighty. Whatever. Still, he’s one third Dean’s son, so he’ll call him kid if he wants to.

The thing is, somehow, he wants more. More than eternal happiness, and he feels a bastard for not being satisfied with eternal bliss. But he misses having something to worry about. He misses the bunker. Shit, he even misses hunting, even though thinking about his last hunt gives him chills. But most of all, he misses having Sam, Jack and Cas by his side, the four of them against the world. He misses Cas’ eyerolls, his deadpan lines, his lack of notion about personal space. His hand on Dean’s shoulder,  eyes solemn, glistening –

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Before he knows it, Dean is half-keeling on the grass. “Cas, buddy, you got your ears on?” he prays, like he did so many times before. “I – I hope you can hear me, that you’re alright, that you’re happy now that you’re back home.” He sighs. He has no idea what to say. “I never thought I’d get a chance to pray to you again, but here I am.” Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to go on. “I miss you, man. And – and I know you’re avoiding me… I mean, I know I was a dick to you for so long that maybe – maybe you don’t wanna see me? You could… at least come and say goodbye, you know? I hear you see and help everyone and you never, never come to see me. And I have no idea why.”

A bark makes him look around, and suddenly a light brown, furry dog jumps on his arms. He half-falls sitting on the grass while he hugs his companion from long ago. “Miracle!” he greets the dog, and his heart feels lighter already just for seeing him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns his head so fast his neck hurts a little. “Cas,” he breathes. “You’re here.”

“Yes, um…” Cas gestures at Miracle. “I found your dog.” He’s dressed as always, white shirt, black suit, tan trench coat, tie askew. He looks awesome. He’s a few steps away, and he doesn’t come closer. The smile he gives Dean doesn’t exactly reaches his eyes; not that Cas smiled a lot. But he’s looking at Miracle now, like he’s avoiding looking at Dean. ”I hope all is well with you��?” he says lamely.

“All is – “ Dean sputters, disbelieving. “That’s what you have to say?” he closes the distance between them, stopping a few centimeters from Cas. “Where the hell have you been? I arrived here ages ago, and you haven’t come to see me.”

“Bobby was here to greet you.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Bobby, Mom, Dad, Charlie, Jo, Ellen… even Jimmy freakin’ Novak. Everyone except you.”

Cas opens his mouth and starts to shrug, then aborts the movement, still looking at Miracle, perched on a log. “You don’t need me, Dean. You already have all you wanted. I made sure you have everything you could possibly want; everyone you love is here. Why should I come?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean’s not sure he should be swearing in heaven, but hey, he was brought here like this, so they’ll just have to deal with him this way. “Because we’re friends, asshole!” he says, exasperated. Then, quieter, “because I missed you.”

“It’s not of import, you’re with your loved ones now.” Cas says, awkwardly. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, and – “

“Stop it, Cas,” Dean says, frowning. This is not how he expected their reunion to be. “What’re you  talking about? I missed you man, every minute of every day, and – “

Cas finally looks at Dean, and he looks so sad Dean almost pinches himself to make sure he’s awake. “Jack had just rescued me from the Empty and he asked if I wanted to see you, and – “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you were brought back and you didn’t come to us?”

“I saw you, Dean. You were happy. Eating pie, laughing with Sam. And I decided to step aside and just let you have the life you deserve. You and your brother together, like it was before heaven and hell came into your lives.”

Dean throws his hands in the air. “You’re an idiot, Cas, come on! Is that why you never came?”

Cas shrugs. “I know we angels gave you a lot of sorrow, and you have no idea how much I regret everything my brethren and my father put you through.”

Dean huffs a breath. “Not your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I was one more pawn in the game at first ,but I became the one closest to you. And every time I tried to do something right, I just brought you more grief,” Cas rambles on,  “and if I had just stayed away, maybe things would’ve been easier. All the mistakes I’ve done… all the times I let you down…”

“That’s bullshit, Cas. What the fuck are you talking about? Since when I, we, didn’t want your company?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean, I didn’t want to burden you anymore. I thought that… it was better that I stayed gone, and…eventually you and Sam would be alright.

“Oh, that’s so like you, Cas! Deciding things about my so-called wellbeing without telling me! Is this how you show you love me? Staying away?”

Dean’s eyes widen. Where the fuck did that come from? What the hell happened to his tongue?

Cas’ breath hitches and he looks at the ground, and even in the dark Dean can see his cheeks turning pink. Such a human thing…

“Dean,” Cas says, and shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Dean knows what this is about. He feels guilty already, because the last time they saw each other, Cas spilled his heart on the damn floor and Dean just stayed there, looking. “Don’t what, Cas?” he asks softly.

“You don’t have to say anything about… that. I said my piece, I… I spoke my truth. That truth still stands, it will always stand. Part of the reason I said it was because I thought… that I wasn’t coming back. But here I am, and here you are and, and I know how you feel. Rather, I know how you don’t feel. So, you don’t have to say anything, or do anything. It’s okay. Only… it may take some time before I fell less… mortified in your presence.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas has practically just said that the – the love thing was true. Is true. Well, Dean was the one that started this particular subject, the asshole that he is.

“Cas…” he knows he needs to say something, even if it’s not what Cas maybe would like him to say. “I had no idea you even could feel like that. I’m not, I’m - “

“If you’re going to say you’re not worth it, don’t bother. I stand by what I said, and every word is true. You’re the best human being I have ever known, and I’d like that you at least give me the courtesy of believing in my words.”

Dean is speechless. Once more, Cas is spilling his guts and Dean is silent. He’d kick himself in the ribs if he could. His courage had dropped to the floor somewhere, but he finds it. “Was it my silence that made you leave? That made you do that? ‘Cause if it was, it’s on my top five worst mistakes.”

“It was to save your life. I couldn’t let Billie take you.”

“So you made me watch the Empty take you instead,” Dean deadpans.

“I had to. It was that or letting you die, and I couldn’t let her hurt you and do nothing.  I’m expendable, Dean. Always have been. In heaven, on earth. But in that moment, I mattered.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean shakes his head. “You’ve always mattered to me. And coming here and not seeing you? Knowing you were around the whole time? It was a shitty move, Cas.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but he suddenly stops. He closes his eyes and frowns, as if hearing something. “I’m needed elsewhere,” he says. “I have to go.”

“What, now?”

“Yes.”

Cas was never a specialist at Goodbyes. Curiously, Goodbye was the last thing he said before he died.

There’s a bright light, a white-blue bright thing that starts on Cas’ eyes and grows, grows until all Dean can see is light. Cas is not there anymore, but there’s a huge beam floating against the night sky. Dean can see the tips of two huge, white wings coming out of the white-blue light. The words “multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent” comes to his mind and he knows that he’s looking at Cas’ true form. Even though it’s probably wise not to look directly at it, Dean can’t turn away and, well, maybe one of the perks of being dead is that he can look all he wants and his eyes are still working. Cas is awesome.

Now Dean is truly speechless. He’s never seen something so wonderful in all his life/death. In awe, he sees Cas going higher and higher, and he murmurs, more to himself, “Don’t take too long to come back, Cas.”

“I won’t,” he kind of knows, halfway between his head and his chest. What he really hears is a high-pitched sound that he knows it’s Cas’ true voice, but now his ears don’t bleed and he can understand what he’s saying. Wow.

The last thing he wonders before Cas goes up so fast that he looks like a comet, disappearing in the starry sky, is how can someone so fucking amazing like that can have such a low opinion of himself.

7-    Pretend you’re ok with the fact that you never see him anymore. Eavesdrop every conversation to try to get a clue of his whereabouts.

“There’s some kind of rebellion up north,” Jack says. “Castiel was called to help with it.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Sam asks.

They’re in the bunker, of all things. Cas hasn’t come back, but here and there he comes to see Dean in his dreams, and at first Dean thought it was a regular dream, until Cas told him that the bunker was ready, and if he wanted to move there, he could.

And there was a freaking awesome replica of the bunker up the hill; the only home Dean ever remembers besides Baby, minus the dungeons and the endless corridors. But the important parts are there: the war room, the kitchen, bedrooms, library, garage, Dean’s cave. Sam decided to live there with him, and it’s been a week – or is it a month? Hard to keep track of things here – when Jack finally came to visit. He asked for a homemade burger, of all things, Dean’s homemade burger, and before he started, Dean was going to ask him if he wanted chili sauce with it. So, he isn’t eavesdropping, he’s not a gossip kind of guy. But Jack and Sam are talking in the war room, and when he hears Cas’ name, Dean stops before they can see him.

“Because the rebellion is about me, partly, Castiel thinks it’s not wise that I go. I trust his judgement.” Jack says. “Some angels think I’m too young to rule the universe.”

“You are pretty young,” Sam snorts.

“Well, there’s the fact that some of them still resent Castiel because of his past actions. It’s hard to forget he said yes to the devil, and I’m afraid an angel’s memory is endless. Theirs certainly is.”

“He did that so I didn’t have to,” Sam says, regret in his voice.

“Of course he did.” Jack’s voice is laced with amusement. “Everything Castiel did since he rescued Dean from hell was to protect him; then you two; and, in the end, me too. He’s the most human angel I’ve ever known; he has a heart. That’s why my mother chose him to protect me.”

“He wasn’t always like this.”

“Oh, I know, he was a dick, Dean told me. Like all the other angels here. I’m trying to teach them how to think for themselves, but it takes time. And every time a group decides I’m too young to rule, or Castiel is still unreliable, or both, he goes there  and tries to convince them to come back.”

There’s silence for a while, and Dean is caught between wanting to step inside or waiting to hear more about Cas.

“I suppose I should be glad,” Jack goes on. “If they decide to go against us, it means they’re starting to understand free will. If Castiel changed, so can they. Although, he’s always had an incentive, which they lack. Anyway, Castiel is good at convincing them; even if he’s my father, he wouldn’t be my commander if he wasn’t a good strategist.”

“Nepotism, huh?”

“Not at all. I offered to turn him into an archangel, since there’s no one left… but he insisted he wanted to remain a seraph. He’s very down to earth, so to speak.”

“Will he be alright?” There’s worry in Sam’s voice. “Won’t they get… I don’t know... violent?”

“Oh, don’t worry. He can handle them. Besides, if they kill him, I’ll just bring him back.”

“What the fuck?” Dean almost yells, finally  going inside. “You’re just gonna let him die? What the fuck, Jack? Dying hurts!”

“So, you were eavesdropping, Dean,” Jack laughs. “and yes, I want chili sauce in my burger.”

“You knew I was here?” Dean knows his face must be comically red now, but he doesn’t care.

“I know everything,” Jack simply says, “and Bobby Singer was teaching me about pranks and sarcasm the other day, so I decided to do a little test.”

“With me,” Dean deadpans.

“Yup!” Then Jack says, more serious. “He won’t die here, Dean. I have his back.”

-----

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Jack comes to the kitchen when Dean’s doing the dishes, after dinner. Sam is… somewhere under a pile of books, probably.

Dean just shrugs.

“I know you worry about him,” Jack continues, “I worry too. But Castiel is very, very old. And wise. He may not have always known what he was doing in the past, but he knows now. He’s in his element. You should see him in battle,” there’s pride on Jack’s voice. “he’s spectacular.”

Dean thinks of Cas’ true form and the way he gives every bit of his focus in a fight, and well, he has to agree with Jack, Cas fighting in heaven must be something to behold.

“He went furious when he knew you were going to die; he spent ages complaining about how you were supposed to have a long and happy life. And then he built this part of heaven for you himself. But… dying young was always in the cards for you, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dean shrugs again. “I’m happy now. And I didn’t want to have gray hair anyway. Been there, done that, didn’t like it.”

“Are you, really?” Jack asks. “Happy?” He looks genuinely worried, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“If you know everything, smartass,  why do you ask?” Since Jack knew about the chili sauce before Dean said anything, it stands to reason that he knows every freaking thing inside Dean’s head, right? “And stop reading my thoughts.”

“So, stop projecting them everywhere,” Jack arches one eyebrow. “You make it really difficult not to listen. And when I ask if you’re happy, it’s not because I want to know. It’s because I want you to know. There’s a lot of things you already know but you don’t realize. Not yet.”

“Like what?” Dean is getting annoyed by this enigmatic version of the kid.

“Oh, you’ll get there,” Jack pats his shoulder solemnly. “You’ll get there. Now, how about getting a job, so you and Sam don’t get too bored?”

-----

The job Jack found them was as “newcomers’ advisors”. Apparently not everyone is okay with dying. Hunters are particularly difficult to come to terms with the idea. So Dean, Sam, Eileen and Bobby help them getting used to it.

Mostly, they talk. They show them the neighborhood, explain how heaven works. Help building their houses, finding their loved ones, keeping track of family that’s still on Earth, things like that. It’s something to do, and Dean’s glad to have this to fill his days. Like Ellen said, he’s a hunter; he can’t stay home and do nothing but an endless string of family and friends’ reunions. The boredom would kill him if he wasn’t already dead.

It’s a good thing Jack has been doing here. Heaven residents are organized in teams and they have work to do. If they want to, of course. No one is obligated to do anything they don’t want to. But there’s still a lot to build in heaven, it’s a huge place after all, so there’s work for everyone. People who’s been dead the longest and lived isolated in the eternal loop of their private heavens, have a little more difficulty adapting to changes; but they have literally all the time in the world. Feeling useful does wonders for Dean. Life goes on as it should. Well, not life, per se, but still a good one.

Cas never comes. He keeps appearing in Dean’s dreams here and there, and they talk about nothing and everything, like they always did. Sometimes, he watches Dean fishing, standing on the pier by his side; other times they just drink beer and talk side by side inside the Impala. Dean misses seeing him in person, though. He can’t exactly feel when Cas touches his shoulder, or when he pats his back. Well, he can, but it’s a muffled sensation somehow, the ghost of a touch.

And it’s not  enough.

8-    When confronted with the fact that he’s more BAMF that you had realized, pretend you’re neither impressed nor slightly turned on.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says one evening, when he is in Dean’s cave watching Doctor Sexy reruns.

Dean raises his head to look at him and – Whoa!

Cas is in a golden armor, holding a huge sword, expression solemn. He… glows. Like, there are little sparks of light floating around him. And his wings… wow. Huge, beautiful black wings, making him officially the most amazing creature Dean has ever seen.

“Cas!” he says dumbly, and he can’t stop staring. He has the vague notion that he needs to close his mouth,  but he’s in too much of an awe to do it.

“I need your help,” is all Cas says, and he puts his hand on Dean’s arm and –

They’re outside, in the bunker’s rooftop, which is an awesome place to be, because Cas built it on a hill, the sky seems so close and you can see the lights of people’s houses down below. It’s almost as if you’re suspended between heaven and Earth.

“You alright?” Dean asks when Cas winces a bit after they land.

“Just a minor scratch.”

“Lemme take a look,” Dean says, his hands already on Cas’ shoulders, looking for a way to take the armor off him.”

“We don’t have time. We need to go to hell.”

Dean blinks. “Come again?”

“Rowena, she sent me a message. Apparently, the rogue group of angels that didn’t want to follow Jack, joined with a group of her demons who were showing… discontentment with her leadership. They’re wreaking havoc down there and Rowena’s having a hard time controlling everything.”

“So heaven will help hell. Huh.”

Cas shakes his head no. “Not heaven. Just me. No other angel would follow me down there. But, as you see, I’m a bit hurt and I can’t go on my own. I was thinking that maybe you and Sam could help me.”

“What about Jack?”

“I can’t contact him now. He’s in the Empty again.”

“Why???”

“We need archangels, Dean. Heaven is too big, and we need someone with power enough to contain everything while others rebuild. I – I can’t do everything alone, and… we need someone with more power, who’s not Jack, in case he needs to be away for a while. And I – I don’t want more power. We already know how I acted when I had more power than I could deal with. More pride than compassion.”

“Come on, Cas, that wasn’t you,” Dean reasons.

Cas gives him a curt and serious nod, like he’s saying, “I don’t agree and I don’t want to go on with this subject.” But what he says is “Jack went there to try to find and rescue Gabriel. He won’t be back anytime soon. Will you help me?”

------

Of course Dean will help him. And so will Sam, Eileen, Bobby, Mary, John, Rufus, Ellen, Jo. Some of them are a bit worried about going to that  place – well, it’s hell. But they don’t shy off a good fight, and most were already missing their old hunter’s life, with the absolute lack of things that go bump in the quiet nights around here.

9 - Here is the part where you have an epiphany and see that, even dead, you’re still emotionally constipated, and you fell in love with him.

“Cas, wake up. Please.”

Dean holds Cas’ head between his hands, but the angel’s eyes remain closed. He doesn’t need to breathe, so there’s no way for Dean to be sure he’s alive. Rowena said he is, but still, the lack of movement in unnerving.

“You sure you can’t help him?” he practically roars at her. “Isn’t there anything you can do? What kind of witch are you?”

“The dead kind, dear,” Rowena answers drily. “I still have my powers, but they obviously don’t work here.” She looks around. “I’m amazed I was even allowed to enter this place. It’s… a little on the ordinary side.”

Since there was no one with enough power to open a portal for them, they lay siege in hell the old, fashioned way. Cas knew a backdoor, but it was, of course, guarded. Half the group came in from the front and the other half from behind. A few more hunters, recruited at the last minute, formed a group of twenty something people. Cas, the badass he was, came in from above, breaking everything on his way (“Just as I did when I rescued you, Dean,” he said).

Of course, things went wrong. Of course. None of the hunters died, because first: they were already dead and, second: every single one of them had killed demons before.

The angels were a whole different thing. Sam and Dean went straight for them, no time to waste. Despite their experience in dealing with them, these ones were more than dicks: they were angry dicks.  “Winchester,” one of them snarled, as if it was an insult, and their attack was fierce and fast. But Sam and Dean knew a lot of fighting tactics and, little by little,  they made their way towards the throne room.

Rowena was nowhere to be seen, but behind a huge, closed metal door, Dean heard her yelling “Take your angel hands off me!”

After a while, the group of hunters dealing with the - now dead - demons joined them and, together, they start getting rid of the angels. Dean didn’t know the repercussions of killing an angel in hell, and frankly, he didn’t care. It was hard to believe the dicks were together with the demons in a plan to restart, once more, the freaking apocalypse. Again. One more time. But it was true, Cas had told then on their way here. Besides being dicks, they had no imagination. Getting rid of them was long overdue.

Sam kicks the metal door when they hear a whooshing sound.

Inside, Cas has Rowena in his arms. Around them, several dead angels. She looks a little dizzy, her head on his shoulder. He looks a little winded,   and he gasps “We need to leave,” before disappearing in a beam of light. Dean and the others need to go back the way they did: going up seven levels of steep stairs.

When they arrive back in heaven, Dean has no idea where Cas and Rowena went, but on a hunch,  he goes to the bunker. Rowena is sitting at the war room, elbows on the table, red hair in disarray, head in hands. She looks shaken.

“Cas?” is all Dean asks.

“In your room,” she answers.

So, here they are. Cas is on Dean’s bed, still in his armor. Dean has no idea how to remove it, and he’s afraid to move him.

“One of the angels had a blade near my throat,” Rowena’s voice trembles slightly. “Castiel started to talk to him, trying to convince him to let me go. The other came from behind and he didn’t duck in time.” She opens her hand and shows them an angel blade, dirty with something slimy, silvery and shiny, almost like mercury.

Angel blood. Cas’ real blood.

“It didn’t go all the way in,” Rowena says. “I think he collapsed as soon as we got here. When I came to myself, we were on the floor. I helped him get to your room. He closed his eyes and…” she trails off.

Dean nods slightly. “Cas…?” he tries again. But Cas is still like a marble statue. All Dean can think of is that Cas was already hurt when they went to hell, and on top of that he was stabbed, and now he – he shakes his head to send the dark thoughts away. Cas can’t die here, can he? Dean has just killed a couple of angels a few hours ago, but they were in hell. Do angels die in heaven?

“Dean?”

Jack’s voice is like music to Dean’s ears. The young man stops by the door, all wide eyes. He approaches them slowly, staring at Cas. When he gets close, he puts a hand on Cas’ chest and closes his eyes. For a few seconds they just stay there, completely still, as if suspended in time, but Dean’s heart is aching inside his chest, so he knows this isn’t a nightmare.

“There,” Jack says. “I closed all the wounds.”

“All the wounds?” Dean asks, dumbfounded. “As in, a lot?”

“Too many,” Jack answers. “Angels fight aiming to kill, never to just hurt. But he’s going to be alright now.”

“He’s still not waking up.”

“The damage was in his true form, no less. He needs some time to recover, to replenish his grace. He’ll wake up, Dean. He’ll be alright.”

Dean can’t hold an angry huff. “Stupid angel. He had to go and help Rowena and put himself in danger like that.”

Jack shrugs. “He always felt at least partially responsible for what happened to her. After I brought him here, they kept in touch.”

“So like Cas,” Dean shakes his head. “The idiot’s born in heaven, a badass commander, but he has to go and make friends with the sorry ass humans, he rebels, falls, sacrifices himself a handful of times… befriends a witch queen of hell, almost dies – again – in a mission to save her because he feels he owes her something.” “And who told him he was responsible for her death, asshole?” his mind offers.

“You know Castiel. Always happy to bleed for  someone.”

“Jack, get out of my head!” Dean snaps.  

Jack raises his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey, it’s not my fault that you were thinking of Cas saying he was ‘always happy to bleed for the Winchesters’. Your thoughts are all over the place, very loud, I should add. If you don’t control them, they just fly to my head. For example, right now, you’re thinking I’m an asshole, and also wondering what you’ll do for the rest of eternity if Castiel dies.”

“Fuck, Jack, come on!”

Jack blinks and suddenly Cas’ armor is gone. He’s in his old attire – suit, tie, trench coat. Then he puts a hand on Dean’s arm and squeezes a little, forcing him to raise his head and look at him.

“Castiel will wake up. I promise. But the thing is, you shouldn’t be worrying about what you’re going to do if he dies. Rather, what you’re going to do if he lives. He’s here, Dean, and so are you. What are you going to do with it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“And that,” Jack gets up and looks at Dean sadly, “Is why Castiel’s greatest joy so far was just in the saying, not in the having. You’ve wondered why he thinks so little of himself… but have you ever given him any reason to think otherwise, Dean?”

Jack just disappears in the air, one moment here, the other gone.

Dean feels like he’s just been punched.

-----

A day and a night come and go, and still Cas sleeps. Dean never leaves his side. Sam comes, offers him soup, then beef jerky, then a beer. Dean refuses everything. It’s not as if he needs to eat.

“Dean – “ Sam starts.

“Not now, Sammy,” Dean closes his eyes. “I know you’re worried, and I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Jack said… um… that I should leave you alone, that you have a lot of thinking to do. So, if you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”

Dean just nods and Sam goes.

The room is dark except for a bedside lamp, projecting shadows on Cas’ face. Looking at him, Dean shakes his head again. Stupid angel. Beautiful, beautiful creature that came into Dean’s life more than twelve years ago and saved him so, so many times. Someone Dean can count on. Someone he can’t live without.

Wait.

He can’t live without Cas. Even if he’s technically dead, spending heaven-life without him is something Dean can’t conceive.

Shit.

Suddenly, everything is so clear that Dean doesn’t understand how he could be so dense. All this time, and his stupidity let him spend his life thinking he was unworthy of love, when in fact… he was loved by the most awesome person that ever existed. And he loves this person back just as much.

He does, doesn’t he? He has always – shit, he has always loved Cas back, and why the fuck did his stupid brain not get to this conclusion before?

Yep. It’s official. He’s a moron.

Jack knew, of course. That’s what he meant when he said Dean had a lot to think about. Even Sam, he probably knew too, judging from the faces he made whenever Dean and Cas started one of the many bickering sessions they had. Or one of the staring contests. Meg, Crowley, all the times they, and so many others, implied there was something between Dean and Cas, and Dean thought they were just trying to piss him off.

He spends a long time thinking, not realizing he has one of Cas’ hands between his. It’s like a twelve-year film is passing inside Dean’s head. Long stares, small touches, soft and private smiles, stupid choices, sacrifices… it was all there for anyone to see, but Dean was blind, how could he be so blind? Cas’ love for Dean was written in everything he did since forever.

Dean, on the other hand… looking back he can see, clear as day, the many, many times he was a dick to Cas. He never gave him a reason to stay, then complained because he left, even if he never stopped him from leaving. He never let Cas feel appreciated. He hardly ever thanked the  guy for saving his ass. He doubted him; he blamed him; he kicked him out of the bunker when Cas was human and vulnerable. He doesn’t deserve Cas’ love. Cas could do better.

But the thing is… he has Cas’ love, and what he’s going to do about it? Because, on the other hand, Dean can also see the trench coat that spent ages in the Impala’s trunk. He can see his bloody hand punching a door when Cas was dead. He can see himself spending almost a year looking for Cas in Purgatory, and refusing to leave without him. So many, so many small things that he always labeled as friendship, but now is so, so clear it was... so much more.

“Cas,” he closes his eyes. “Hear me. Please.” He’s praying, taking a leap of faith here, and he hopes it will work. “You need to wake up. See, I have something to tell you, but you need to be awake for that, ‘cause it’s very important and… it can change everything. I need you, so please, please – “

“Hello, Dean.”

10- Tell him how you feel. Live/die happily ever after.

They’re on the bunker’s rooftop again. It’s becoming Dean’s favorite place.

Rowena has gone back to hell, once her lackeys got rid of all the bodies. Jack went back to the Empty, they’re negotiating Gabriel’s release. Sam, as soon as Cas woke up, remembered he needed to visit Mary and John asap.  

So, Dean and Cas are alone.

They’re sitting on the rooftop, feet dangling, and Dean has a beer in his hands, more to have something to hold and ground him than for drinking.

“Cas, “ he starts. But he has no idea what he’s going to say. Rather, he has, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’ profile, illuminated only by the moonlight, almost shines. Everything about him seems to shine, like he’s so beautiful and perfect inside that the light can’t help but spill to the outside. Technically, he knows that’s Jimmy’s face. But it’s so different from Jimmy’s. The hair in disarray, the so very blue eyes with a hint of silver, the perpetual frowny face… and the guttural voice. Traits that make Cas unique, traits that no one else has. For Dean, Jimmy’s face is ordinary. Cas’ face, he can’t get out of his head. Now that he knows.

“You said you had something to tell me,” Cas says. He’s not looking at Dean, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice, almost as if he’s afraid to know what Dean has to say.

Dean clears his throat. Here goes nothing. “When you died… the last time you died,” he starts.

“Dean, please,” Cas almost begs. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What if I want to talk about this?” Dean blurts out.

Cas cocks his head to the side. “Dean?”

“It made me think, Cas. What you said, it made me think. But… I didn’t want to think. Because… it hurt. It hurt so much that I put a lot of stuff on top of it, shoved a lot of things under the rug so I didn’t have to see what I’d wasted.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Bear with me. You will.”

Cas only nods, but his eyes are a little anxious, a little wide.

“Then the freakin’ metal bar came. I didn’t want to die, you have to believe me. But – bit I didn’t want to live like that either. And I didn’t see a way to change. I was looking for a job, already knowing how it’d be. The empty feeling inside me, just like when I was with Lisa and Ben; I had an apple pie life, I had a family, a job… and inside me there was this void they couldn’t fill.”

“I thought you were happy,” Cas murmurs.

“Yeah, sometimes I’m good at pretending. But listen to me, I’m not finished yet.”

“Okay.”

“So, when the metal bar went straight to my lung, I knew that the little time I had to live… I didn’t want to waste it in a hospital, I needed Sam to know that he was my everything. He was, Cas, because that’s the way I was raised, that was drilled and imprinted in my head when I was four. And, I had to tell him that, and if they took the bar off, I’d probably die without him knowing it. I didn’t fight because I wanted to die. I just made a choice, and it was to let my brother know that he didn’t have to stay with me in the bunker forever, he could have a life. A normal one. I took him off from his apple pie life fifteen years ago, I needed to put him back.”

“Dean, this is… Sam was devastated. He’s have stayed with you, not out of obligation, but because he loves you.”

“I know, Cas. I know. But I was dying, man. My thoughts were all scrambled. I’m telling you this because I’ve given it a lot of thought, and you’re the first one I’m telling this. You’re probably the only one who will know this, ever.”

“I’m honored by your trust in me,” Cas says solemnly.

“Yeah, yeah, better late than ever, right?” Dean says, a little self-deprecatingly. “But listen. There’s more.” He takes a deep breath. “Some things you told me that day stayed with me. That I wasn’t the killer I saw in myself. That I was good. That everything I did was for love. But… now I realize that all that love, it was never directed at someone that should’ve gotten it the most, because he loved me when I didn’t love myself.”

“Dean, what – “

Dean raises his hand to make Cas stop talking. “The thing is… When you said those words to me, and I didn’t say anything… I should’ve said something. I should’ve. Even if it was just ‘you’re important to me, Cas, don’t go’. But I’m a coward and I didn’t say a thing, and you were just gone. I blinked, and you were gone, and I knew I’d never see you again.”

“I didn’t say it to be reciprocated, Dean. I said it because I had just had an epiphany and I was so happy for finally understanding that I could just say it, because it was the truest thing inside me for a long, long time. I realized that and… I had to let you know. But I wasn’t expecting anything from you, I didn’t want that burden on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything.”

“But I did, Cas. I do. I owe you my life, more than once. I owe you my humanity and I owe you never giving up on me, even when I gave up on you. I’ve reached to the conclusion that I owe you everything that remains good inside me. And – and then you left and I – why did you have to sacrifice yourself like that?”

“It was out of utter despair, Dean. We were in a situation that we had no way of winning. And I… I looked at you, and your face, so devoid of hope… and you were beautiful’ you were Dean Winchester! I held your soul in my hands a long time ago, and from that moment on, everything changed, Dean. I wanted to fight it at first, but it was useless. That was something my powers could never do, and for all the free will I had fought for, this one thing, what I felt for you, what I feel for you, is the only thing I have no free will over.  And in that moment of – of desperation, I knew I would give my life  for you again and again if I had to.”

“Cas…” Dean says, amazed. He can’t even begin to understand the love this timeless creature, this angel that was been around since the beginning of time, feels for him. It’s beyond his comprehension, but in Cas’ eyes he sees that every word is true. This love, this seemingly enormous thing that made Cas defy heaven and every order that Chuck, Naomi, Zachariah, Uriel, Raphael and everyone else ever gave him, it’s too much for Dean’s ordinary human mind to understand. But he wants it.

“I was… I was so used to you always being around that I didn’t realize that whenever you were gone, every time, Cas… you took part of me with you.”

Cas’ eyes widen. “Dean…?”

“You said I deserve to be happy. Then you built this – this heaven for me with all I could possibly want, but Cas… I could never, I can never be happy here - ”

“Dean, don’t,” Cas starts. “Please.”

“- not without you,” Dean goes on. “Never without you. You can put everything and everyone here, you can build me a bunker, a palace, I don’t care. If you’re not here, it will never make me happy.“

Dean inches closer, until his face is so close to Cas’ that he can see his long lashes and his blue, blue sparkling eyes. “So, I’m telling you…   that thing you said, back there, that you couldn’t have? You can have it, Cas. It’s yours. It has been yours for a long time, but I was too stupid to realize.” “But Dean, how can you –“

“Shut up, Cas, don’t spoil the moment.”

“But I – “

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean’s voice is laced with fondness.

“But you – “

“Dean loses his patience, just a little. “Cas! For Jack’s sake!” Then he adds, softly, “I’m trying to kiss you here, so unless you really, really want to stop me, just. Shut. Up.”

Cas snaps his mouth shut.

Dean closes the distance between them and his lips touch Cas’, briefly, softly. There’s no electric current, fireworks, sparks flying, like in the paperback novels Dean will deny forever that he reads once in a while. There’s only this indescribable happiness. There’s this sense of “this is it” inside his head. Cas is it.

They come apart slowly, and Dean looks at Cas’ eyes, which are bright and moist, and Dean smiles, knowing that these almost tears are of happiness. The same happiness he feels, knowing that finally, finally Cas won’t go any other  minute of his life without knowing how much he is loved. Because he is.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispers, “and you’re it for me. So, if you want, we can, maybe… spend all eternity together?”

Cas smiles, the kind of rare smiles that scrunches his nose and wrinkles the corner of his eyes. The smile Dean has never seen in him, except when they’re together, laughing. “I’d like that,” he says. “A lot.”

“Alright,” Dean murmurs, going for another kiss.

They have all the time in the world, and they’re not in a hurry, so the kiss doesn’t end anytime soon, and morphs into another one, and in so, so much more. The moon in shining up in heaven’s sky, but Dean knows it’s a pale comparison to the shine in Cas ‘eyes.

--- --- ---

About the author

Dean Winchester was born on January 24, 1979 to John and Mary Winchester in Lawrence, Kansas. He died on November 19, 2020. He is the couple's first child, four years older than his younger brother, Sam. He is named after his maternal grandmother, Deanna Campbell. Dean was raised as a hunter by his father, after his mother’s death. He lived the life of a nomad, eliminating several monsters, ghosts, evil spirits and demons, and saving a lot of humans. He also played a crucial part in Apocalypse I, Apocalypse II, the Darkness Apocalypse and in Chuck Shurley’s (AKA The Almighty) demise. He also killed Adolf Hitler. Currently, Dean lives in Heaven, sector 24 – A, with his partner, his brother and his dog. He works as a Newcomers' Advisor.  Mail can be sent to PO box KAZ 2Y5.

---- This booklet was published by Samandriel Books. Editor: Charlie Bradburry. All rights reserved.

----

Epilogue

Snippet of life in Heaven.

“Sammy, take this.” Dean shoves the little booklet in Sam’s hand.

They’re in one on the many gatherings and parties around here. This time, is for Bobby and Karen’s vows renewal. Everyone is there, everyone is happy, dancing, smiling. Dean sees Sam in a corner, surreptitiously looking at Eileen, on the other side of the room, talking to Cas.

Sam picks the booklet. “How to fall in love when you’re dead,” he reads. “A guide by Dean Winchester.” He looks at Dean, frowning. “Did you… write this?”

“Dean shrugs, cheeks reddening. “Cas helped. But I did most of the work.”

“Wow, Dean,” Sam’s face shows his astonish.

“I mean… I figured this could help other people to solve their… unfinished business, you know?  I solved mine,” he says, looking at Cas, who is talking to Eileen using ASL. He’s really amazing. “If I solved mine, a lot of people can, too. Just – just don’t read it near me, or don’t ask me anything about the things I wrote there. It’s…  I still don’t like chick flick moments, okay?”

“You don’t fool me,” Sam smiles, holding the booklet close. “I know you’re a big sap.”

Dean clears his throat. “I know you’re still in love with Eileen, Sammy. So, go and talk to her. Things are different here, but just because we literally have all eternity in our hands, it doesn’t  mean we have to waste it.”

Sam looks at Eileen again. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m… I’m gonna read this, and talk to her.”

“You do that. But maybe you’ll want to skip the part where things got really steamy at the bunker’s rooftop."

“Ewww, Dean! Come on! I did not need to that information!”

“I’m just kidding, Samantha, don’t get your panties twisted. ‘Cause, if I’d have to write about all the times things got steamy between me’n Cas since we got together, this would probably be R-rated.”

Sam slaps Dean’s shoulder, but he’s laughing.

“Ew, not again, jerk!”

“Bitch.”

------

“Did you give your book to Sam?” Cas asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s not a book, Cas.”

“It’s about us. For me it’s a book, and you’re not changing my opinion about it.”

They’re close, facing each other, and somewhere there’s soft music playing. Dean doesn’t even notice when he and Cas put their hands on each other’s waists.

“Dean, I… um… I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Cas says, serious.

“Shoot.”

“Jack wants to build a new section in heaven, and I volunteered. And I, um… I need your assistance.”

“Sure,” Dean says. “What is it? A new bible camp?” he jokes.

“A beach.”

Dean frowns. “Did I hear you saying a beach?”

“Yes. Like… um… the Bahamas.”

“But… why do you need my help to make a beach?”

“I don’t need your help with the beach part. But I… I was thinking that maybe, if you want, you could um… build a cabin there. And…” Cas’ cheeks turn  an adorable shade of pink. “And of course, I’d have to go there and inspect it. And we would be… you know… alone. You and me. With no other angel or human soul around.”

Oh.

Dean arches his eyebrows. “Castiel Winchester, I didn’t know you had a devious side.” He widens his eyes. Oops.

“Winchester?” Cas’ eyes, if possible, are even wider.

It’s Dean’s time to blush. “Yes, um… if you want to. But if you don’t, it’s – “

“Dean. I’d be honored.”

“Yeah?”

They’re swaying slowly, almost dancing together without even realizing it.

“Yes,” Cas says. “Would you be too embarrassed if I kissed you now?”

“Nah,” Dean smiles. He looks around. Every one of his extended family and friends is there. “They’ll all probably read the booklet, anyway. Besides, the only one that didn’t know we were boyfriends without the fun, was little ol’ me.”

“Good,” Cas says, kissing Dean, the kind of soft and unhurried kiss that leaves no doubt of the love behind it.

Dean kisses him back, his chest almost bursting with joy, with love. And, in his lips, Dean tastes the forever that awaits them.

THE END

--- x ---

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH17

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW

WC: 4547

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST 

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

Y/N wakes up the next day with Dean already out of bed. There’s a tray of breakfast propped on the coffee table. She didn’t even hear the knock at the door when someone brought it. Sleep was bad. It took them both a long time to fall asleep and then she kept waking up during the night. 

She blinks the sleep away and sits up in bed. Looking out, she sees Dean. He’s talking on the phone and has gone outside so as not to wake her up. Still feeling tired, she lets herself fall back into the mattress and buries her face into the pillows before pulling the covers over her head. Maybe, if she’s lucky, she can fall asleep again. 

There’s the sound of a sliding door, and she hears Dean walking back in. He probably has noticed her moving, and took it as a sign that she’s awake. 

“The others will arrive in an hour, you think you wanna get up?”

Well, there goes her sleep.

She peeks out from under the covers and sees Dean sitting next to her on the bed, “The others?”

Dean scoffs, “Yeah, I’m not happy about it either, but apparently Sam and Ruby are seeing it as an opportunity to have a short vacation with the false pretense that he’s my lawyer and he needs to be here to discuss strategy.” He air quotes the word strategy.

“Ruby?”

“She’s coming because he probably wants to impress her,”

“As if he has to try,” she chuckles, and adds, “Are we picking them up?”

“Nah, Jack’s in good hands. Ruby made sure that Jack was on their flight.” Dean’s hand goes under the covers, grabbing her around her waist and pulling her to the edge where he is, “So, you still have time to take a dip in the sea if you want to? I need to go to the front desk and arrange a room for your brother.”

“Not for Sam and Ruby?”

“I think they can manage on their own,”

Y/N smirks, “Can we stay in bed for a little while longer?” 

Dean has to smile at that, “Okay, ten more minutes,”

She scoots over again and he gets in, nuzzles his face into her neck while he drapes his arm over her body. 

*

Ruby hugs her so tight, she has trouble breathing but who she was most excited to see is Jack. 

“Hey,” Jack smiles weakly, visibly tired because he had to get up so early to be able to catch a connecting flight to get here. 

Y/N hugs her little brother around his waist and rests her head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. He’s not little anymore but he’s still little to her, “I’m sorry about all of this, Jack,”

Jack rubs her back and wraps his arms around her, “Don’t worry about it, and hey, I get to be in Jamaica, not bad, eh?”

They chuckle. It’s a great reunion. If only the circumstances were different.

After the initial greetings, they sit down on their balcony. Dean had someone bring in drinks and snacks. Sam’s still on the phone and Ruby is inside, changing into her bikini. 

Jack sits next to her and she can feel that he’s a little restless as he can’t hold still. 

Dean notices it too, while he pours water into glasses and raises an eyebrow at Jack, “You okay there, Jack?”

Jack’s blushing, “Yeah,”

He usually never blushes but now he does and she doesn’t know what it is, but she thinks it’s cute.

“Do you wanna take a dip in the sea?” Dean asks and grins. 

“Can I?” Jack’s face lights up when he hears that Dean basically just read his mind. 

Dean shrugs, “I saw you eyeing that blue water, so yeah, knock yourselves out. We’ll start when you’re done.”

That’s pure Mr. Winchester. She thinks it’s a gift that Dean has because he can read people very well. Maybe that’s the reason why he’s so successful.

“Awesome!” Jack stands up and gets rid of his shirt, he was so excited that he boarded the plane in his swimming trunks, bless his heart, “I’ll be right back!”

“Hey, be careful!” Y/N shouts after him but Jack’s already taking a dive.

Dean sits next to her when Jack’s down below, splashing around in the sea, “I like him,”

“He doesn’t like you,” She grins and moves closer to Dean, hooking both her legs over his lap and he strokes her thighs and leans back into the seat. 

“I know that,” He says, and she leans back too, places her head on his shoulder. Dean pecks the crown of her head. It’s become so natural for him so show her little affection. Little does he know that it means way more to her than it does to him, “I’ll get him to like me, you just watch.” With another breath he adds, “You know, you two remind me of me and Sam. Just that Sammy is a bigger pain in my ass.”

*

After another attempt of gathering everyone together, they finally sit down to talk. 

“How did Amara know that we’re here?” Y/N voices her thoughts. 

“Uh,” Ruby says, “That might have been my fault. Remember her walking in on Friday?”

Yeah, how could she forget that. She was under the fucking desk blowing her fucking boss. 

“Anyway,” Ruby continues, “I had the screen open for your holiday resort and since she had to walk past my desk in order to get to Dean’s office, I’m sure that she saw it.”

“It doesn’t really matter, actually,” Dean says, “She’s here, there’s nothing we can do about it.” He clears his throat before he goes on, “I’ve spoken to Ash and I asked him to find out things about Arthur Ketch. Turns out, he’s not a descendant of English aristocracy but a private investigator. It took Ash the whole night to find that out because there’s not much info on the guy.”

“What?” There are a couple of voices throwing that in.

“Means, that he’s here because she paid him to spy on Y/N and me. Probably get some footage of us not being married so she can expose us.” Dean says in a low voice. 

“Would someone please explain what is going on?” Jack throws in. He's right. They still didn’t explain their situation to him. 

“We’ll get there, Jack,” Dean says, his voice is softer, “I’ll get back to you, alright? Just have a little patience.”

Jack purses his lips into a thin line and leans back in his chair. 

“Do you think they’re still here?” Sam asks, “We didn’t  see her when we walked through the resort.”

Dean scoffs, “Sammy, it’s Amara, what do you expect? Of course she’s still here. She’s like the black fucking plague, she won’t go away easily,” he sighs, “All I know is that she’s here and we’re being spied on, so since you are all involved, I want you to get your story straight and don’t let anything slip that would jeopardize this, you understand?”

Everyone nods, except for Jack and Dean notices that, too. He walks over to Jack, places a hand on her brother’s shoulder, “I need to talk to Sam for a bit and after that, I’ll be right with you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack snorts, “Sure,”

She can see that Dean is feeling Jack’s rejection, but instead of arguing or explaining more, he gives Jack space. Dean nods his head and walks inside with Sam, leaving them outside. 

 *

 Y/N and Ruby are floating on swimming mats in the sea below their bungalow while Dean has taken Jack on a deep sea fishing trip to explain it to him. She wanted to go too, but Dean said that it’s something between him and Jack, since he’s the one who put Jack in this situation in the first place.

Jack was quick to agree, because her brother loves fishing. Their dad used to take them finishing a lot while he was still alive. She wonders how Dean knows because Ruby doesn’t know these little details. She’s known Ruby since she started to work for Dean and she’s become her best friend since. Ruby knows a lot about her, knows about her past relationships, but Ruby doesn’t know a lot about her relationship with her brother. Y/N never thought it was relevant to their friendship. All she let Ruby know was that Jack was the most important person in her life.

So the two of them left right after Dean discussed things with Sam and they would be back in the evening. Sam’s somewhere, trying to spot Amara and maybe scare her a little with some lawyer lingo. She doesn’t really know. Fact is, that there’s not a lot that they can do because technically, Amara’s allowed to be here. She wonders why Sam and Ruby came at all, because they aren’t necessarily needed, but as Dean said, Sam saw the opportunity and Ruby’s not going to say no to a couple days of fun in the sun. 

“So, how’s things with Sam?” she asks Ruby, because since they arrived all they’ve been talking about is Dean and Y/N’s fake fucking marriage and she can’t listen to that anymore. 

Ruby smirks, “It’s good. He took me on a trip to Jamaica.”

Y/N snorts, “Yeah, I can see that. On Dean’s expense, apparently. That cheeky little bastard.”

“I like him, Y/N, he’s the best lover.” Ruby gushes, “I can honestly see us being more than just this, you know? Maybe it’s the beginning of something good?” 

“Won’t it be weird when you work for the same company?” It’s a legitimate question. 

Although the company’s contract doesn’t have a clause that says that they aren’t allowed to strike up a romantic relationship at the workplace. Still, she can imagine that Dean probably wants to make sure that people stay professional while working. Which is really a little hypocritical of him, given what they’ve already done in his office.

“Well, is it weird for you?” Ruby raises an eyebrow.

Y/N swallows, “We’re not— It’s not—” 

Her friend scoffs, “Yeah, sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

“My god, Ruby, it’s really—,” She sighs, “Okay, we get along, alright? But we’re not like, anything, I think? At the end of the day, it’s just business.”

“Who are you trying to fool?” Ruby laughs. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Y/N, for God’s sake, wake up!” Ruby squirts water in her direction, “I think everyone knows but you, and that’s pretty frustrating.”

“Know what?” She squirts water back at her friend to conceal the red flush to her face. 

Ruby sighs, “How he behaves around you? He always makes sure that you’re okay. Every fucking day he would come by and ask if you’re alright? It was like that since you started in the office. Have you not noticed?” She opens her mouth to protest but Ruby goes on, “And don’t give me that ‘But he’s asking you too’. What do you expect? He’s standing right there in front of us. He can’t be asking you without asking me too.”

“Ruby, that’s absolute bull,”

Her friend snorts, “I started to work there six months before you came along. He did not stop by and ask me once if I’m okay before you got there, Y/N. I never told you that, but I’m telling you now, it’s not his normal behaviour. He cares, and that’s just that. Take it or leave it. But maybe you’re so traumatized by Kevin, that you don’t really know what’s good if it hits you square in your face.”

“It’s just for show,” She mumbles, not entirely sure of her own words either. 

“Why do you think Jack’s so hostile towards Dean, huh?” Ruby scoops sea water and drips it over herself to cool down, “I’ve met Jack several times, and think I know him a little, Y/N.”

“Oh, come on, leave Jack out of this,” 

Ruby raises an eyebrow, “I won’t. Because you know why? Jack’s overprotective of you. He’s your little brother, he thinks that he has to look out for you. The only way he is like he is with Dean, is because he sees through him. Jack knows and that’s why he’s going to give Dean a hard time because he doesn’t want Dean to break your heart.”

Y/N sighs, “Ruby, it’s really just for show,”

“If you say so,” Ruby shrugs and chuckles to herself. 

Ugh, she hates that. Is she really the only one who doesn’t know shit around here?

 *

 They’re waiting for Dean and Jack at the restaurant. Dean had called to say that they’ll be in a little later and that they should go ahead and he and Jack would catch up. 

So far, there’s no sight of Amara yet. Sam hadn’t found her either. Could it be that they have already left or maybe they’re just really good at hiding in fucking bushes around here. She wouldn’t be surprised if they bugged everything just to hear one of them slip.

They have ordered drinks and were chatting away when Dean and Jack arrive, both freshly showered. Jack already has a little tan from fishing. He looks good. He looks genuinely happy and it’s a drastic change from the Jack that arrived here this morning. 

The chair beside her is empty as well as the chair across from the empty chair, and she sees that both of the men were aiming for the one beside her and Jack got there first, but then Jack quickly changes his mind to let Dean sit next to her. 

Dean takes a seat and leans in to kiss her cheek. She catches a whiff of his cologne and takes a deeper breath because it smells so good. By this stage, they have perfected their lovey dovey couple routine like Sam suggested on the first day, and Sam grins when he sees how natural they’re handling it. 

When she looks up, Jack’s winks before he grins brightly. 

She leans into Dean to whisper in his ears, “Who is that and what have you done to my brother?”

Dean has to chuckle at that, “We talked, everything’s fine.”

“No, seriously, what have you done? You exchanged him with a robot, didn’t you?”

He tilts his head towards her. Their noses almost touch, his hand comes up to cup her chin and he kisses her, smirks after he parts, “Baby, it’s okay. We talked it out. We’re good,”

She doesn’t quite trust Dean. Something doesn’t sit right with her but she doesn’t say anything. She’s got to find a time to talk to Jack in private but maybe not here because she never knows who could listen into them. She’ll have to do it as soon as they’re back home.

After the meal when they are waiting for dessert, Dean looks over to Jack, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”

“Tell us what?” Y/N frowns, already thinking of the worst. Thinking about Jack telling her that he drops out of college or some shit.

Jack grins, “Nothing bad, Y/N. Dean offered me an undergraduate work experience at his company.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna be looking into the company for three months, if he wants he can stay longer.” Dean says.

“And what did you say?” She asks her brother.

“Of course I said yes,” Jack’s smile widens, “That’s going to look awesome on my CV.”

She can’t find it in her heart to object. Not when her brother’s smile is so big.

 *

 The others went on to the bar but she decided to call it a day. She parts with her brother, telling him to behave or else Sam’s gonna beat his ass. Jack didn’t find it very funny, though. Dean insisted on going to the room with her, although she said that he doesn’t have to.

Back in their bungalow, they strip to their underwear and brush their teeth. She takes her time to wash her face and when she walks out, Dean’s already laying in bed. The AC needs some time to catch up and it’s too warm to pull the cover up. 

Y/N slides into bed next to him, curls up to his side and Dean abandons his phone to wrap an arm around her. 

Dean kisses the top of her head, “You okay?” His fingers of the hand around her strokes at her chest, goes down to her boob to pinch at her nipple. She yelps out a laugh and he laughs with her. 

“Yeah,” She says, turning in Dean's grip to lay her cheek on his chest, “Thanks for talking to Jack. Although I’d like to know what you talked about.”

“If I’d tell you that, I’d have to kill you.”

“Of course,” She groans, and changes the subject because she’s not sure if she wants to know. She’s not entirely sure if the things that he’ll tell her won’t break her heart and for the time being while they’re still in paradise, she’d rather keep up the facade and continue to enjoy what they have, “You sure about the work experience thing for Jack?”

“I’m pretty positive. He’s a bright guy. I think he’ll be a great addition to the company.”

“And you’re not just saying it because you owe him.”

Dean breathes out a weak chuckle, “Well, that I do, too. But no, we got to talk about his studies and I trust my guts. I’ve never been wrong.”

She tilts her head up to raise her eyebrow at him.

“Hey, two or three people this year, it’s not much.” He’s talking about the people he fired. 

“Twelve, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, but I did not interview any of them, so it’s not my fault my people don’t have good people reading skills.”

“Oh and you do?” 

“I do.” He says, without even thinking. He’s so full of himself, it blows her mind. 

“But I don’t know where Jack should stay for the whole summer. Like, my apartment is barely big enough for myself.” She’s only voicing her doubts. She’s sure that they would manage. Maybe she can go live with Ruby for a while. 

Dean’s quick to jump in, “He can live with me,” 

“What?”

“You heard me,” Dean chuckles, “I have plenty of space and maybe you can drop by every now and then,”

He’s really talking about life after the court date, isn’t  he? Talks about her going back to her old life and they resume what they are not and occasionally going to social events together as a fake married couple. She really doesn’t want to think about it yet. 

So, instead of spilling him all her doubts, she says, “Yeah, why not,”

Smiling, he pulls her on top of him and one of his hands goes around her waist while one of them tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as he kisses her. She likes that, likes his kisses. They make her forget everything around her. The touch of his tongue electrifies her. It makes her feel something tingling down there and she clenches around nothing. 

Yes, it’s good, she decides. She’s going to enjoy the last couple of days. She’s going to take what she wants, fill her heart with only happy memories so she can take them out and relieve them whenever she feels down. Maybe if someone treats her bad, she’ll think back and know that there’s someone out there who could treat her like Dean does.

She kisses along Dean’s jawline, down his throat and he cranes his neck, giving her better access. His scruff feels rough on her tongue. Sucking down a path, she kisses his chest, licks at a couple of freckles and it’s tickling him because he’s chuckling. She works her way to his nipple and Dean moans a little when she sucks and tickles them with the tip of her tongue. Grinning, she works down his body, dips her tongue into his navel before she kisses down his happy trail until she’s slotted between his thighs. 

Looking up at Dean, she sees him looking at her with hungry eyes, that are a shade darker than usual. She grins as she lowers her face and places a kiss on his hardened cock through his underwear. She licks a broad stripe across the fabric along his shaft, and he bites down his bottom lip, swallowing down a groan that wants to leave his mouth.

Hooking her fingers into the elastic of his underwear, she slowly pulls the fabric down. His hard cock springs up and hits her nose. She has to giggle and Dean’s biting back his laugh. 

She sits up a little to get the underwear off his legs and slots herself back on her elbow in between his thigh, stays on her knees and sticks her ass out for the visual effect. Dean opens up so easily for her. 

His dick is hard, and leaking a little at the tip, but she takes her time, her hands are on his thigh as she opens them up a little further. She plants little kisses on either side of his thigh, close to his balls and he groans some more.

“Tease,” She hears him say and chuckles at that. 

Finally she plants a kiss on his sac, and begins to lick and suck him there. She still doesn’t touch his dick but she feels it twitching and it feels heavy on her nose and forehead. Her tongue works around one ball, sucks it in to release it with a lewd pop and then she goes further down, licks on the underside of his sac, and Dean opens up his legs some more, giving her better access. 

She’s learned that trick from Ruby. She said men would not admit it but a whole lot of them like it. She always wondered if Dean does, and apparently, the answer’s yes. 

Her hands lift up his legs, and he spreads them even more as she toys her tongue along his rim. 

“Jesus fuck—” 

Chuckling, she licks some more, his balls are resting on her nose. God, he tastes even good there.

Dean’s breathing hard above her and she moves further up again, taking his leaking tip into her mouth and starts to bob her head. She can’t take him to the hilt, but she really tries, gagging around his dick as tears start to pool in her eyes. 

After a while she changes into normal sucking, works the hard lengths in her hand while she toys at the tip of his dick, paying attention to the sensitive string. 

“Just like that,” He whispers low and deep, “Good girl, looking so good with my cock in your mouth, baby.” 

At these words, she bobs her head a little faster, sucks a little harder and Dean has to pull her off abruptly, “Woah, not so fast,” He chuckles with a shudder, “Don’t wanna blow too soon.”

He pulls her up by her arm, kisses her roughly, all sloppy wet and he groans as he sucks his own taste off her tongue, “Come on, ride my face,” His fingers are already tearing at her panties, pulling them down and she stands up to step out of them. She kneels down and his hands quickly finds her pussy, threads his fingers through her folds and unceremoniously plunges two of his thick fingers inside, making her moan out loud while he latches at her tit to suck and bite at her nipple. Her hands find his head, fingers digging into his scalp. 

“God, I want you inside,” She moans as his mouth licks a wet trail to her other nipple. 

“I have to taste you first,” He groans with her nipple in his mouth, “Just a couple of licks, please? Fucking love how you taste,”

She’s awfully wet but she just got wetter hearing his words. 

What is this man doing to her?

Dean lets the nipple out of his mouth with a smacking sound, and he breathes hard as he slides down the bed a little and maneuvers her on top of him. 

Fuck, his mouth seals around her clit and he starts to lap at the juice around her cunt. His hands are on her boobs, kneading them and tweaking her nipples. It feels so good and she can’t help but grind down into his face. Dean doesn’t seem to mind because he’s humming. It sounds as if she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten and the sound of it turns her on.

Y/N’s so close to coming but she can’t possibly come on his face, can she? She’ll make him all messy and— oh god, there’s no stopping the pleasure wave that rolls through her legs up to her cunt. She’s coming strong and hard, pushes her pussy down into Dean’s face and she’s almost falling off him if it wasn’t for his hands on her tits keeping her upright.

She climbs off him, sits square on his chest with her pussy still tingling and Dean laughs, his face shiny from her cum. 

His smile is cocky, all bravado and boyish youth, “Told ya it wouldn’t take long,”

She rolls her eyes and he slaps on her ass, “Come on, ride me,” 

Dean helps her move down because she doesn’t know if she can on her own with her body still trembling. But when she regains her composure, she lays his twitching dick down and spreads her wet pussy lips around it, grinding on his shaft. It gives her the right friction but apparently, he thinks she’s a goddamn tease.

Y/N gives in, slips his dick inside and sits down slowly, letting him stretch her wide and he groans at the squeeze. She’s always so much tighter after she comes and it would take her a little while for the cramping of her walls to go away.

Bracing her hands on his chest, she starts to ride him, and he helps her with his hands around her hips. She switches into grinding after a while and has to moan out loud at how deep he’s inside. 

“You looks so good,” Dean’s hand works up her stomach, cups at her tits and twirls at her nipple, making her arch her back, “Fucking perfect,” 

She feels her orgasm approaching again, because her clit rubs perfectly against his pelvis and his huge dick is in her fucking cunt, oh my god, she fucks him faster. She comes with a loud moan, pressing her legs together and Dean squeezes his eyes shut at the pressure, he pulls her down by her arms, crashing her lips to his as he grunts out into her mouth and he buckles his pelvis up, his dick throbs and twitches in her cunt. 

“Fuck,” He breathes out against her mouth, kisses her there, and pecks her nose, “Fuck,” He repeats and he smiles at her. 

 *

 They take another shower before they settle back into bed and Dean has already turned off the lights when his phone rings. 

He takes it to look at the screen, “Chuck,” 

CH18

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife - Part 8

“Under the Knife” - Part 8

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

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Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,700-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, 

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled

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

Today was the first day in awhile that you didn’t feel any intense pressure weighing down on your shoulders. You walked into your office, prepared to have another day of trying to figure out the puzzle that was the Virginia Scalpel. But as soon as you shut the door, you realized that you didn’t have to worry about that anymore. It was a strange relief that you hadn’t ever felt. 

Although Jack’s tactical team still hadn’t caught Henry Urik yet and you were unsettled by him still being out there, you weren’t as scared as before. The killer that had been teasing you and that had named you one of his next victims now had a name. 

Jack’s team had all of the information that you and Hannibal could give them. You also had an armed agent watching over you and Hannibal until Henry was caught. 

All you had to worry about at the moment was your 1 o’clock lecture on the “stereotypes of gender roles and how they can affect the psyche of an individual,” and then you could take a half day and go take a nap at home. Well, that and your dinner with Hannibal tonight. But even then, you weren’t as worried about that as you were about Henry still being out there.

Your lecture went by quickly, even the students seemed to understand everything rather easily. Only a couple asked a few questions for clarification after your presentation. Even with those students stopping you, you got out a bit earlier than anticipated. Looking at your watch, you realized that Will was going to be leading a lecture soon.

I should probably talk to him. And I do really miss those dogs.

After stopping by your office to grab your bag and close up, you weaved through the familiar hallways to the nearest coffee machine, getting two cups, making one how you like  and one for Will. With both cups securely in your hands, you found the lecture hall he was assigned to today. You softly walked in, seeing your brother completely entranced in something on his laptop. Before you made it all the way into the room, you cleared your throat in effort to grab his attention. It worked. As soon as he located where the noise was coming from and saw you, he stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk.

“(Y/N)! Hey! Wh-what uh… What’s up?” You knew he was trying to not seem nervous, but you could see through him. You took a few steps closer and offered him the coffee cup, not seeing the probably empty one already on his desk. You tried to make your voice as comforting as you could.

“I was passing by and decided to stop by to ask you something.” 

“Is everything okay?” Will was hesitant but took the coffee, looking all over you for any sort of tells as to what is going on.

“As okay as they can be.” You shrugged, not feeling anything in particular, which only added to Will’s worry and confusion.

“What’s going on, (Y/N)?” 

You pause, seeing the visible uncomfortableness and growing fear in Will’s features. You quickly try to find a way to calm him down while getting to the point of why you’re here.

“Do you think the dogs would mind their favorite aunt stopping by for a drink tonight?” You couldn’t help the small smile that crept across your face as a slightly bigger one formed on Will’s. You could hear the extra air he let out in his chuckle, an obvious sigh of relief. 

“I think they would really like that.” His smile faltered a tad as he looked down to his hands. He spoke quieter, as if unsure how you would react. “I would really like that.” 

As he looked back towards your face to see your reaction, you met him with a sincere and reassuring smile. 

“Good. Me too.” Another huff of relief from Will. “I have dinner plans with Hannibal tonight. But I was hoping I could just drive over afterwards for a nightcap?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll have the good stuff ready and waiting for you.” Will took a breath in, trying his best to be careful with his words. “And, if that nightcap ends up turning into a few, you could crash at my place.” 

Again, Will looked as if you were a powder keg about to explode if the wrong button was hit. You just closed the gap between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his torso, his finding their place around you. 

Your brother was not fond of physical affection from a majority of people. But you were one of the very few that he not only tolerated, but sometimes felt a need for. 

“I’ll pack an overnight bag just in case.” You pulled away and tapped your hand on his upper arm. “For now, I am going to go home and take a nap.

“Jack’s letting you go home early?” Will was genuinely surprised. Jack was never one for early dismissals.

“Well, considering I did finally find out the Virginia Scalpel’s real name last night and got all my work with that wrapped up, I think Crawford is a bit more lenient on what I do today.” You casually mention as you shrug.

“You did what?!” Will’s expression was one of shock and pride. A handful of students filed in behind you. A playful grin graced your face as you tapped his arm one more time before taking a couple of steps backwards.

“I’ll tell you all about it later tonight. I need to get ready for this assuredly anxiety-inducing dinner and you have a lecture to get through.” Will gave you a slightly annoyed look as you winked and walked away, talking over your shoulder. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

You couldn’t see it, but Will just shook his head and let his smile linger a bit longer before turning his attention towards his class. As much as he worried about you during this case, he was very proud of his little sister. 

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

When you got back to your apartment, you tried to take a nap. Key word: tried. Your brain would not calm down enough for you to fall asleep for even a quick cat nap. The coffee that you got before meeting with Will probably didn’t help.

After tossing and turning for 30 minutes, you gave up and decided to make some tea and get some cleaning done around your place. You hadn’t been able to do laundry thanks to the case, so you finally started to chisel away at that pile. 

Once you had put the last load in the dryer, you looked at the clock and saw that it was 5 o’clock. You had an hour before you were supposed to be at Hannibal’s. Might as well take my time and get ready.

After fussing with finding a comfortable but semi-formal outfit to match Hannibal’s aesthetic, you quickly packed a backpack with some overnight things. You were sure you’d end up talking to Will for longer than you both intend, meaning you’d either be too tipsy or too tired to drive home safely. 

With the last of your laundry out of the machine and plopped onto your bed for you to put away later, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door. Preparing for anything to happen.

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

As per usual, you pulled up to Hannibal’s five minutes early thanks to taking some backroads. You put the car in park and took the keys from the ignition, but you didn’t move. There was a tightening feeling in your chest. You tried to close your eyes for a moment and take some deep breaths. 

Dinner won’t be bad. Hannibal is a trained psychologist. If anyone is going to be able to guide the conversation into a calmer place, it's gonna be him. Plus you know damn well that you miss spending time with him that isn’t plagued by confusion or the fuckin Virginia Scalpel. You two are adults. You can talk about literally anything and be okay. 

So why am I still anxious?

Because you had your eyes closed, you didn’t see Hannibal approach your car. So when he opened your door, you instinctually jumped back and gasped.

“My apologies, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?” 

“No. It's fine. I’m fine. I was just taking a breather.” Hannibal nodded, sensing that you didn’t want to expand on this further. So instead he held out his hand.

“Shall we then? I have some salmon in the oven that is awaiting your judgment.” He let one of those small side smiles of his grace his face in an attempt to comfort you as you reached for his hand and he helped you out of your car, shutting the door behind you once you got your purse. 

Unlike usual, Hannibal led you to the dining room as opposed to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair for you. After you settled in, he poured you a cup of water and a glass of wine as he spoke.

“Everything is prepared, I just need to take the salmon out. I won’t be long.” You just thanked him and nodded as you took a sip of water. 

Within a couple of minutes, Hannibal was walking in with two plates that looked just as artistic and beautiful as he normally presents. The main part was a rather large piece of salmon with thin lemon slices laid across the top, paired with a mix of halved grape tomatoes, white asparagus, and the same twirly romanesco broccoli that you had tried the last time you had dinner with Hannibal.

“This looks wonderful, Hannibal. Thank you.” You said as he sat down. The two of you started to eat, both of you trying to figure out how best to start the conversation that you knew was coming. Hannibal was the first to speak up.

“Are you planning on going somewhere?" You were caught off guard, not expecting this to be the starting point of your talk with him.

"What makes you say that?"

"I couldn’t help but notice the slightly overstuffed bag in your passenger seat. I assume it's for staying the night somewhere other than your own apartment. And while you’re always welcomed to stay here if you wanted, I don’t think you would without asking me first."

“Then you would be right. I wouldn’t impose on you like that.” You went to take a sip of your wine as you looked at Hannibal. He gave you a look that said that he knew there was more that you needed to share. “I talked to Will briefly today and we made plans for tonight. We are finally going to talk this all out. The bag is for in case I end up getting too tired and sleep on his couch."

Hannibal gave a slight nod before cutting off a piece of salmon and continuing the conversation.

“I'm sure Will is happy to finally have a moment to talk with you and share his side of the story."

“I'm sure he is.” You took a sip of your wine, bracing yourself for the unavoidable topic. “How about you, Hannibal?” Hannibal looked towards you and raised a curious brow. “What's your side of the story?”

Hannibal took a sip of water before turning his body slightly more towards you, giving you his full attention as he finally spoke on what he had been thinking about saying for days now.

“Will came to me rather distraught after you had said that you were going to accept Jack’s offer. It was my idea to insert myself into Crawford’s team as background support. And while my original intention for joining the Scalpel case was to ease Will’s mind, I couldn’t ignore my own reasons.” Hannibal reached a hand out and grabbed yours, you felt your cheeks warm at the unexpected contact. He was so gentle with you as he spoke sincerely.

“After seeing Will crack again and again under Crawford’s intense force on the handful of cases that they worked on, I was worried you would also be damaged under his leadership. I cannot deny that I do truly care about you and your wellbeing. And with this being your first time handling a major active case, I wanted to be there in case something were to happen to you.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Hannibal had not only told you that it wasn’t Will’s idea to have him follow you, but he admitted that he cared about you. The trouble was that you couldn’t tell if it was the type of caring that you had secretly longed for with a more romantic relationship with Hannibal or if it was similar to how your brother cares about you. You wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t fit together and be coherent enough for you to vocalize.

While you struggled to figure out how to respond, Hannibal lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back of your hand softly before putting it down and reaching for his glass of wine, raising it in your direction.

“Here’s to you and your impressive mind. Without you, who knows how long it would have taken to find out the true identity of the infamous Virginia Scalpel.” You raise your glass and gently tap his, finally able to form a coherent thought again.

“I’m sure Crawford would have just asked for your help or maybe even Will’s if I hadn’t said yes. I got lucky with this one.” You took a sip of your wine, savoring the sweetness of it as you started to slice the fish on your plate. “Honestly, I don’t think I would have figured it out without you inadvertently helping me.”

“How so?” Hannibal questioned before taking a bite of salmon.

“When you came to check on me after the lab meeting, I went on to say something about being your friend and colleague but not your patient. And that’s when it hit me that we weren’t looking in the right demographic.”

There was a moment of silence as Hannibal thought about where to go from this information.

“And how do you feel now?” You finished the bite of food that you had and looked at your water cup, not wanting Hannibal to see into your eyes even though he was already watching you rather intensely. Trying to read all of the nonverbal indications you were giving. 

“I feel okay. Well, as okay as I can be. That insane pressure of figuring out who the hell Henry Urik is was bigger than anything I’ve had to deal with since I started working with the FBI. But there is still the fact that Jack’s team still hasn't found him that has been really messing with me. That and the anxiety of finally having this talk with you and my brother.”

“I hope that some of that anxiety has worn away now that we have resolved things between us?”

“Some. But I can’t help but be worried until everything is settled.” 

“You now know that protecting you was my intention when I joined the Scalpel case. I don’t intend for that promise to end with this case being closed.” Hannibal’s hand casually found yours again, making you focus even more on what he was saying (if it was even possible to focus more.) 

“I promise to do everything in my power to make sure you feel safe and taken care of.”

His warm hand was instantly comforting and you hadn’t realized how much you craved physical affection from him, even in the smallest forms. Your heart swelled at his vow. 

Before you could fully process what he had said, the click of a gun being armed and a very different voice demanded your attention from the other side of the room. A man with messy red-brown hair cocked and aimed a pistol right at you.

“I don’t know if you wanna make that promise so soon, doc.”

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Different Worlds (3)

Summary: You’re the youngest Winchester, a girl who needs to show her big brothers that she doesn’t need help. Then one day, on a totally normal vampire hunt that you had all under control, three meddling Avengers come barging in.

Warnings: language, violence, canon divergence, slow burn, me making stuff up

Word Count: 2011

A/N: This is basically how I’m going to update this series: like two a day and then a multiple month hiatus.

~*~

Chapter 3: Trouble On the Horizon

You sat in the booth, squished up to the wall because of a large, dark-haired supersoldier next to you. Across from you, the Falcon was happily eating his burger with Captain America next to him. You quickly sent a message to Sam and Dean telling them that you were fine and that you would meet them back at the bunker.

“Sooo…” you prompted the superheroes before you took a bite of your burger. 

“What happened back there?” the man next to you asked and turned his steel-blue eyes on to you.

You took your time before answering, chewing your food, swallowing, and then taking a sip of your drink. “That was Mr. Robert Walker.”

“Why’d he do those disappearing tricks?” the Falcon asked.

“‘Cause he’s dead.” The men raised their eyebrows simultaneously. “Robert Walker and his wife, Petra, died in like 1970 or something.”

“So he was a ghost?” Captain America clarified.

“Yep.” You popped the ‘p.’ “They, or their ghosts, were responsible for a couple of recent deaths ‘round here.”

“Why?”

“Spirits do things for different reasons.” You shrug. The three men were actually listening intently. “Some want revenge or just keep killing the way they killed people when they were alive.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“‘Course!” you snort. “‘S my job.”

“You’re a ghost hunter?”

“Sure.” You took a long sip of your drink.

“Why did you kill everyone at the bar? Pretty fucking sure they weren’t ghosts,” the Winter Soldier spat at you. His friends raised their eyebrows slightly in surprise at his tone.

“Yeah… that was a colony of vamps.”

“Vampires?” the Falcon asked with a smile and wide eyes.

“Yes, vampires!” You mimic his expression before dropping it quickly and resuming your so-called ‘resting bitch face.’ It was important to look intimidating in this line of work.

“Why did you have to cut off their heads?” Captain America sat back and crossed his arms.

“How else was I supposed to kill ‘em?”

“Did you have to kill them?”

Uhg. This is why. This is why the hunters stayed away from goodie two shoes, ass-kissing heroes. They always wanted to find a way to save people. Even if they were too far gone. Even if they were so blatantly monsters.

“Yes, I had to kill them. It’s. My. Job.”

“So there are ghosts and vampires,” the Falcon said to change the topic, “what else?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Your friendly mood had disappeared. Your back ached from where Mr. Walker threw you against the wall and you were tired. “I’m done here.”

“How’s your arm?” the blue-eyed man next to you asked, stopping your ‘escape attempt’ of climbing over the back of the seat.

“Whadya mean?”

“Last time, with the vampires, you injured your arm.”

Well, you didn’t expect this. Especially from the Winter Soldier. You could tell he wasn’t satisfied with your answers, or lack of them, but at the same time, he was actually asking about your injury.

“‘S all healed.” You pulled down your shirt from the collar to show them. Cas had been useful and fixed you up. No ugly puncture wounds today.

“How?” You looked at the man for more explanation. “How did you heal so fast. It was only a week ago.”

“Mag-my friend is really good at patching people up.” There was a beat of silence. “Can I go home now?”

“We’ll take you home.”

“Thank you, Mister America.”

“Call me Steve.” You narrowed your eyes at the patriotic man. “My name is Steve Rogers. We know all about you, might as well tell you about us.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you mumbled as the Falcon introduced himself as Sam. “My brother’s name is Sam.” They probably already knew that.

“We know.”

“I’m James Barnes,” the Winter Soldier less enthusiastically than his teammates who gave him a sharp look. “But my friends call me Bucky.”

You snorted. “Bucky? What kinda name’s ‘Bucky?’”

“It’s from his middle name, Buchanan,” Steve explained while Bucky glared at you.

“Well then, Bucky. You were going to take me home?”

You had the superheroes drop you off in St. Louis, Missouri. You had a motorcycle in a storage cell in the city. Your brothers didn’t need you bringing some superheroes to the front door. Who knew if they were going to continue to show up?

You loitered around the city for a while after they left, just in case they were still watching you. You’ve never gotten the opportunity to explore St. Louis before due to, you know, being wanted by the FBI. Today, you still kept your head low.

About an hour after the superheroes left you, you made your way to the storage compound with a Starbucks drink in your hand. You smiled when your black, retro motorcycle caught your eye. It had been a while since you last rode. You dusted off your helmet, because it would be a sad ending for a hunter to go out because of a simple road accident, before swinging your leg over the vehicle. Time to go home.

~*~

Bucky sat in the quinjet, this time with the rest of the team. A Hydra base they had just recently raided had shown signs of activity. Somehow, he couldn’t get his mind to focus on the current mission. Didn’t he not want to go on that little case a week ago? Now he couldn’t get (Y/N) off his mind.

No, she wasn’t stuck in his head because he thought she was pretty. Or very capable of taking care of herself. Even though she did look very nice with her shotgun. No. (Y/N) was only occupying his mind because there was a mystery surrounding her and Bucky had to get to the bottom of it.

Obviously by talking to (Y/N) more. That wasn’t a bad thing. Good thing Sam couldn’t read his thoughts.

Bucky peeked at Wanda sitting a few seats away. She had her earphones in, no doubt to block out everyone’s thoughts. She mentioned before that everyone was loud before missions but music helped.

He still had the niggling worry that (Y/N) and her brothers had something to do with Hydra. Or Hydra had something to do with them. Did Hydra know about ghosts and vampires? Bucky knew how many experiments they performed on people. He’s pretty sure that they tried to make vampires once. That didn’t end well with anyone.

The rough landing of the quinjet and Clint’s incessant apologies from the cockpit pulled Bucky out of his thoughts. They left the plane in sets of three: him, Steve, and Sam (of fucking course); Natasha, Clint, and Wanda; Tony, Rhodey, and Vision.

Tony’s team tackled the outside forces as Nat’s team took the north entrance. Bucky’s team made it into the south entrance with ease. They faced very little opposition as they made their way down the halls of the facility. Bucky hoped and assumed that it was because Hydra didn’t have the manpower.

“Guys, look at this,” Sam called down the hallway from a random room.

Steve and Bucky followed Sam into the room. It was dimly lit and empty save for a couple of cans of red paint in the corner and a large book on a stand in the middle of the floor. Sam had opened the book and was flipping through the yellowed pages.

“What’s this?” Bucky walked up to him and the book while Steve kept an eye out on the hallway.

“I dunno. Can’t read it.” When Sam flipped through, Bucky noticed strange symbols decorating the pages. “Woah,” Sam exclaimed when he landed on a certain page. “Didn’t know Hydra did this kinda stuff.”

The page displayed a large red pentagram along with instructions in what Bucky assumed was Latin. Even though he couldn’t read the words, the star spoke enough. A chill went down his spine and his mind instantly went to (Y/N). Was this part of her world?

“Let’s take it,” Bucky suggested. “Don’t want to leave it with them.”

“What’s all this?” Nat interrupted.

“What are you doing here?” Sam spun around quickly.

“The building’s clear. I was doing our job while you were having a book club.”

“Apparently Hydra’s into some weird shit.” Bucky motioned to the pentagram on display.

“Fuck,” Natasha mumbled as her eyes searched the pages. “Looks like Hydra was planning some Satanic ritual.” Her words echoed through the comms.

“You can read Latin?” Sam asked.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Bucky grumbled, grabbed the large book, and marched out of the room.

~*~

“We have a problem,” Cas announced, suddenly appearing and startling everyone in the previously quiet room.

“Hello to you too, Cas,” Dean smirked.

“Hi, Cas!” Jack beamed at one of his many father figures.

“What is it?” Sam rationally asked. You closed the book you weren’t really reading and took your feet off the table to sit up and look more attentive.

“Lucifer is trying to take heaven.”

“Again?” You fiddled with your new ring.

You had found it on the ground in one of the storage rooms in the bunker. Jack didn’t find anything malevolent on it, but he said that it could store energy and magic. At your request, he had filled it with healing magic. You really didn’t want to die. Again.

“Yes, again,” Cas answered. You paused for a second before remembering your question before losing your train of thought. 

“This isn’t really a problem anymore,” Dean pointed out. “Just a monthly chore.”

“Weekly, actually,” Cas corrected. “He would try to break out every Saturday, but he had ceased his attempts for the last five weeks.”

Lucifer was being held in Heaven, or you supposed he used to be held there considering he was now trying to gain control. The angels decided to lock him in Heaven because it was easier than trying to shove him back into the cage. It also kept him away from his demonic minions.

“He broke out and now is gathering forces to take Heaven?” Dean guessed.

“Sounds like my father,” said Jack under his breath and you gave him a small, sympathetic rub on the back.

“Yes,” continued Cas. “He’s already recruited some witches to find a book of spells. He’s looking for the Magicae Libro.”

“The… Magic Book?” you laughed. “Creative.”

“They didn’t need to be creative when it was the only one.”

“Right, sorry. So what is the Magicae Libro, other than a magic book?”

“It was the first spellbook. Written by some of the first witches, directly advised by Lucifer. Because of the power basically woven into the pages, the spells and rituals cast using the book are more powerful.”

“That’s a thing?” Sam ran his hand through his hair.

“We gotta get to it before the witches bring it to Lucifer, then,” Dean spoke over his brother.

“Any idea where we start?” Jack asked plainly.

“Maybe ask our own witch to get it for us,” you suggested. “Rowena’s always in it for the power and she would want the Magicae Libro for herself.”

“Rowena is unpredictable,” Cas argued.

“She’s gotten better, though.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Dean butted in. “She’d kill a bunch of people just out of spite.”

“We can let her take the book once Lucifer is under control once again.”

“We promised her powerful books before.” Cas wasn’t giving it to her.

“And the deals worked. We’re all still alive. The same deal can work again.”

“I am not giving the Magicae Libro to Rowena!”

“Then you and Jack go looking for it.”

“Jack is going nowhere,” Cas growled. “His father will be looking for him. We don’t want Lucifer to find the book and Jack in the same place.”

“Then we ask Rowena for help.”

“No.”

“I can do it,” Jack agreed.

“No!” All three men yelled at the boy.

“Jack or Rowena.” You held out your hands and moved them up and down like a scale. “Jack or Rowena. Pick one.”

“Fine.” Cas glared at the table. “Call Rowena.”

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

Tag List (strike though means tag didn’t work):

@grav3dollie-666

[sopxhiea]

Wicked

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Enemies to Lovers!

Warnings: Large age gap.

Summary: Alfie and Y/N learn to keep face in between their loved ones but the truth soon threatens to come out. Unavoidable consequences are quick to follow.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“At least put your guards down for me.”

“You know our love would be tragic.”

The sound of barrels rolling on the ground is all that can be heard while someone toys with the paper in front of them. There’s silence but it’s not the comfortable kind, it’s the kind that makes small beads of sweat form on Ollie’s forehead while he waits for someone to speak from the other end of the room.

Alfie stares straight ahead.

Your brother is nonchalant about the situation that’s going on, thankfully. He looks at the paper in front of him and reads it, over and over again before sliding it back to its owner on the desk. Your eyes never meet his.

It’s the meeting you dreaded. You and your brother had been called to Alfie’s office to renew the contract your father had made, it was inevitable and even though you’d spent last night on Alfie’s bed while he found ways to make the meeting go as smoothly as it was humanly possible, you find yourself to be nervous.

Jack, your older brother by a couple years, is not fond of Alfie even though he’s grown up in front of him like you did. They used to get along, you think, until Jack realised that he wanted much more than what he had and ruined anything good in his life after everyone you and him were related ended up under the very soil you walked on.

It’s a tragic story, really but not a story one would be able to make out after taking a look at you. You both look like posh high class citizens, which you are but there’s more to the person you are than what you look or act like. Alfie knows that well.

It had been going well.

You’d managed to hide the fact that you’d been waking up with the very enemy before you for the past four months, there was not one track you left that would enable them to trace things back to the two of you. It was also rather surprising, just how long it had lasted for the both of you.

And you’d fallen, slowly.

It was your fault for thinking so much about him. You knew it was inevitable, you falling for him, that morning where he had cooked you breakfast, you knew that you’d fall for the bear of a man if you didn’t end it right there and then but you didn’t have the heart to do such damage, not to him.

Anyone who knew you well would just laugh at your face if they’d heard just how gentle and kind you were with him. You were usually the one to be cruel, to dismiss any feeling and get on with business but you’d gotten carried away with him, your heart was taking the lead on something in your life for once.

Your guards were still up but they were much weaker when Alfie casted a look on you. They didn’t have the stability and power they once possessed as he worked through every little puzzle you presented to him with yourself. He was much more patient than you’d thought he’d be.

“It looks alright to me..” your brother spoke as Alfie eyed him, he’d never been fond of the young lad since he was much more careless than he should’ve been.

Your brother turned to you and you nodded before speaking. You wouldn’t tell him that you had revised the terms more than twice with Alfie before and that was why they were clean cut and done well according to your brother’s needs. You saw the surprise in Jack’s face due to how understanding Alfie was being and silently thanked him with your eyes before speaking.

“Yes, I don’t see why we need to delay the signing of the contract any further.” the words were breathier than they should’ve been but Jack was too daft to catch on anything unlike Alfie who found himself to grow hotter at the sight of you.

In the last months, he’d seen you in many scenarios but this was the most professional and uptight he’d seen you be in a while due to your brother’s presence. He’d seen you moan his name while your nails dug into his skin, sometimes you’d smile at him in your bare glory in the mornings. He recalled the times you’d play around with Cyril while waiting for the food to cook but you were far from any of those women now.

You are the enemy.

It’s impossible to miss the lines of hate and spite Jack feels towards the man in his eyes. You don’t blame him for not liking Alfie since the family and business history always complicates things. He’d never been the sharp one in the family either so you see the reasoning, although you don’t agree.

Alfie sees your attachment to your brother, him being the only alive one out of your family despite how useless he usually is. He’s not built for this business, everyone knows that but your dead family possesses way too much power for anyone to speak ill of you or your brother. 

But not Alfie.

You know the rumours about him to be lies, mostly because you’ve gotten to experience his kindness in the last months and also because he’d never been that way to you. Ever since you’d known the man as a teenager girl, he’d been the only sane person around including your family in this shit hole.

You and your brother soon sign the deal and shake hands. You don’t miss the glisten in Alfie’s eyes when his hand touches yours and you thank heavens that Jack is entirely too daft to miss it. Alfie’s hand caresses your waist and your eyes widen but he lets go after a squeeze and you realise that Jack has already made his way downstairs.

“Nice job being subtle.” you speak but he senses the sarcasm. He doesn’t lean into kiss you or caress your arms like he usually does when you’re both alone. You see the glint of amusement in his eyes and he speaks.

“Jack’s one daft fuckin’ lad, yeah..” he chuckles while his voice fills the oak walls. You nod at his words but the silence is soon to follow.

“Yeah, he’s not the one for details.” you speak and your voice echoes in his mind for a while for the sole reason of missing you.

“Luv, I-” he speaks but you’re fast to cut him off, there’s a million dollar smile on your lips as he looks at you, clearly taken back but he knows you know what he’s about to say.

“I need to leave, Jack might get suspicious soon.” you say and your words are like glass, cutting through his inked skin as he nods. He knows Jack probably things you’re discussing something about business.

You know what he’s going to say, he’d said it last night in a mere whisper when he thought you were sleeping. You’d pretended not to hear it but the words had been haunting you ever since.

There’s no goodbye this time when you leave through the front door.

-----

Things tend to take a left turn when you think they’re going in the right direction. The room is filled with the kind of energy you remember would fill the walls when your father would scream at you. Cyril is hiding somewhere upstairs to get away from the shouting and the cries that leave your mouth each time you try to explain something to Alfie.

It was one of your worst traits, had always been. You’d cry when you weren’t able to express yourself clearly. Anger and frustration would peek through your eyes and the rest was a fountain of little glass pearls.

“We can’t keep-” your voice is soft and shaky and this time, he’s the one that raises his voice at you.

“Ya’ were the one, yeah, fuckin’ givin’ me the idea in the first place.” he says, his voice booms through the corridors of the large house, you feel smaller than you already are from the one end the of the room as he stands in the other.

You know he won’t hit you but the fire in his eyes is not the kind you’re used to seeing.

“I know that. I just think I’m getting-” you try to speak but he cuts you off. It’s only his voice and eyes that make you feel a tiny bit of fear. The rest of him is calm, he doesn’t seem angry or sad, he’s just confused as to why the conversation is taking place right when he was about to confess his love to you.

That’s what he’d whispered against your skin last night when he thought you were sleeping.

“Wha’ the fuck are you gettin’ love?” he asks, voice in the usual tone as he tugs at his beard.

You could say many things: you were getting tired of him, of his affection. Maybe, he thought, you were getting bored. 

“Attached.” you speak, your voice is low but he hears it and feels his heart stiffen. It’s his fault for thinking that things would go well.

He then stills for a while like the ocean at sunrise. He’s calm s he stares right into your eyes, he knows now for a fact that you’re starting to have feelings. He sees the fronts you’re still able to put up, your guards are not down despite tears rolling down your cheeks. 

It’s too late, he thinks. It’s too late for you to get out of this mess both of you managed to create.

“At least put your guards down for me.” he speaks, no swear words or a harsh tone this time as his voice fills your ear. The voice you were once so desperate to hear. You still are but you can’t help but feel helpless.

This is the first time in a while you’ve felt this helpless.

You try to explain yourself to yourself first, tears covering your face while you start to pace around the room. He sees you close down further and go down a hole that would be highly damaging but he watches for a second, he watches the face you show no one else but the mirror.

Your small whispers and sobs fill the room this time as Cyril comes out of one of the rooms, the animal can see the tension is no longer there but it’s something much worse.

It’s heartbreak, the one thing Alfie has so desperately tried to save you from.

“I-” you start speaking but the words escape you. Alfie’s quick on his feet as he reaches for your small form in the other side of the room. He wraps his arms around you and you feel yourself get engulfed by his embrace.

He smells of vanilla and rum.

You’re lost in time at that second as his embrace is all you can feel, it’s all you want to feel. As you slowly calm down, your hands hug him back. His soothing whispers fill your ear and he’s soon to realise that you’re trying to deal with much more outside of this situation you have with him and this argument is the last drop.

You let him take control when he sits down on the large sofa you made him buy for his living room. He pulls you into his lap and gives you another engulfing hug. It makes your heart ache, that there had been no one before Alfie to care about you, let alone care about you the way Alfie did.

His lips meet your temple and hair every now and then, he plants gentle kisses and feels your breath calm down with every soothing whisper that leaves his mouth. You soon collect yourself, the shock of being seen by someone finds your little heart and sends a wave of fear through it.

To be truly seen by someone.

You lift yourself up from his lap but his hands catch you by your forearms. You stand up right in front of his seated figure. Even though he’s sitting, you can’t help but realise just how big he is compared to you, you dismiss the thought of him on bed like you’d seen him yesterday with a shake of your head and start speaking.

Your voice is not a whisper anymore. It’s the you he knows.

“I better leave.” you speak but he doesn’t understand. He knows you need to be taken care of, in every which way and he’s willing to do that.

But he also remembers the rule. 

It’s the one thing you’d asked from him and from yourself, the game was played with two souls and you were also to blame. You’d blamed him for some time, for getting so carried away with everything but you were quick to follow his drunk in love steps. 

You knew you were falling in love because it was something out of a dream for you. It was intense and painful, you dreaded the times you’d see the real truth behind his eyes, that he loved you back because then it would just be a tragedy. Your heart was okay being the one in love, you could work it out on your own but his silent pleas telling you to stay told you just what you needed to know.

That he was just as mesmerised by you.

“Alfie, listen-” your words cut through his whispers, telling you to stay but he stands up right in front of you and towers above you soon after the words leave your lips.

“No, luv, you fuckin’ listen.” he says right into the room, you can hear him loud and clear while he stands just centimetres away from you, holding you by your arms.

“This, yeah, ain’t somethin’ you can just throw in the fuckin’ garbage.” he says, the voice that used to feel like pure sin now just feels like glass cutting through your skin.

He’s right. You know he is.

This the thing your mother had warned you about before she disappeared into nothing. You know she’s in hell somewhere for the things she’d done, looking up at you and cursing for just how silly you’re being, giving your heart to this man.

“We said-” you speak, trying to reason with him and you try to lift your arms but his gentle grasp prevents you and he looks right into your eyes as he speaks.

He needs you to know.

“I know what we fuckin’ said, right, I was right there, luv and I remember it clearly.” he speaks, there’s a billion emotions swimming in his blue orbs while the afternoon sun hits him in a way that makes you think he’s out of this world. He feels like it.

“Too clear for my own fuckin’ good, yeah.” he says and lets go of your arms. You can see the conflict on his face, morphing with worry every now and then.

You don’t speak for a while but watch him fight with himself, the mighty Solomons is having a mental conflict right before your eyes. There’s not much to be said, you know that. It was the one rule in a very dangerous game you proposed and you both dismissed it, now you’re deep in a hole that can either be lethal or beautiful.

You speak your mind since nothing else makes sense as he stares right at you. Your voice is shaking again. “You know our love would be tragic.”

A few tears find the corners of your eyes, you don’t let go of them because he’s watching. You want him to think you’re stronger than you are but he already knows that you’re stronger than he’ll ever fucking be. You sigh and look at the walls after the words, a thousand sobs align at your throat but you’re not letting them go. 

“Ya’ didn’t think I thought of that?” he speaks, walking towards you until he’s towering above you like he usually is and you look up at his saddened face.

“We were supposed to be hating each other.” you say while staring right at his chest since it’s at your eye-level.

He is the enemy.

He’s the person you were designed to hate. Your father had made you into a business machine that functioned well but he had forgotten one thing, that you thrived on danger. Alfie was exactly what he had told you to steer clear from and now, you knew why.

It doesn’t matter that your heart soars at the thought of the man before you nor does it make sense. You know nothing is enough to create an exception when it comes to enemies, it won’t count that you’re in love or that you crave him and him only. 

It doesn’t matter that he makes you happy and that he makes you laugh. It doesn’t matter that Cyril already thinks of you as his mom and Alfie’s house is decorated with the things you bought him. It doesn’t matter that no morning is good if he’s not next to you. 

Because he’ll always be the enemy.

“You’re th-” you speak but he mimics the way you cut him off and holds your chin up so your eyes meet his.

“The enemy. I know, luv.” he says and you feel his hot breath against your face. 

You shake your head at his words, teary eyes meet his merciful ones and you feel your guard come down, little by little. You want to curse at your damn self for being weak at the sight of him, for bowing down at every little action of kindness this man has shown you.

“We don’t get to fall in love.” you shake your head at your own words as Alfie listens. He always listens. “You and I, this isn’t how things are supposed to be.” you speak once again, eyes closed as you try to make sense of things.

Before Alfie had jumped on a chance to be with you with no strings attached to the either of you, you’d done the proper calculation of outcomes the situation would bestow upon you.

There would be heartbreak and grief in most situations. You saw versions of you not getting attached to him, this would just sail smooth and when the deed was done, you and him would go your separate ways. There were other situations. You’d leave him for being a dick or he’d leave you for being a bitch. 

But he had done none of the things you knew men to be capable of doing.

He hadn’t shouted, the only time he’d touched you was with gentle hands of a simple caress. He’s kissed you hello and goodbye and bought you flowers and baked goods. He’d showered you with affection and compliments and he’d let you in.

 It didn’t matter how fucked up things were, he’d still let you in.

“Tell me how this is gonna work, right, and I’ll follow every fuckin’ rule.” he speaks against your face as you find yourself to be puzzled about the whole situation, the confusion is evident in your eyes.

“That hasn’t worked well before.” you speak and he chuckles feeling victory at the fact that you’re now looking more amused than sad. You watch the lines of worry transform into something else, something much more cheerful as his blue orbs stare at you.

You want it to consume you.

The nights filled with meaningless talk, the waking up together. You want to get lost in his touch and never let go. You want to wake up next to him and spend the day in bed. You know you’ll miss him, you’ll miss all of it.

The small touches and how he whispers your name into the night. You’ll miss the way he looks at you when he knows you’re in public and the way he manages to make your heart do multiple flips.

You know you can’t let go, not just yet.

So you curse yourself and all the mistakes you had done seem like a little one as you try to conjure up the courage to ask him one thing. It’s a mistake, you know that. You already know the man is in love and so are you even though he’s the one person you were supposed to steer clear form.

You’re to blame for the things that follow.

“Why don’t you stay the night..” a small pause follows “....so we can figure this out?”

----

Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​ @bicevans​ @mollybegger-blog  @97freaknik.  @fuseburner  @kiaoizz 

a/n: I think there will be another chapter? Let me know if you guys want another one and also what you thought of this one?

Stay safe and Happy Eid!❤︎ 

x

[irishmacguirefucker]

Why and how did the gang start a ranch?

(So this got long as FUCK but please read it because oh my god i'm so so proud of it ok? Big thank you to @awesomeundertalelover3​ for proofreading and editing this for me, especially since I'm incoherent when I type.) The choice to start the ranch and stop being a “gang” was the result of a few things. First, it was the botched job in Blackwater. Dutch killed innocent Heidi McCourt, planting the first seed of distrust within the gang. Then in the escape, they lost Sean and the gravely injured Mac, and John, Davey and Jenny were both injured. Then Jenny died, of course, followed by Davey. The next big push into the decision was the time spent in the mountains. The cold and the difficulty of survival made many members of the gang think long and hard about their life as gang members, especially now that Hosea and Dutch seem to be fighting over whether or not Dutches plans will work out. 

At this point they are cold, they are tired, and they have lost what they assume is 4 members of their family. But they kept on. They gained Sadie Adler due to Micah’s stupidity and they gained Kieran. You all know how things go until they get to Horseshoe Valley. But this is where things start to change in my AU. 

Horseshoe Valley is good for everyone, they continue to commit crimes as usual. But Hosea is contacted by the elder brother of his late wife Bessie. He wrote that he feared he would die soon, and his property would be sold to the government since he had no other family left in the area. His daughter lives in new york and she doesn’t want it. He’s going to go live with his daughter and get to know his grandchildren before he passes. But he doesn’t want the ranch he and Bessie grew up on in anyone else’s possession so he asks Hosea to do what Bessie would do. Who Bessie would give the farm to. 

The deed was to 55 Acres of land in New Austin. A beautiful 3 story ranch house with all the facilities to keep cattle, chickens, pigs, sheep, and horses. The man had sold all his livestock so that he could make it to see his family and then give the money to his daughter as a gift for letting him live with her. Hosea never told anyone, he was going to keep the deed for a while and sell it when the gang was in need. 

The Van Der Linde gang was being hunted and they all knew it. However, they tried to ignore it and tried to believe in Dutch. But with the unfortunate loss of so many members of their family at once was weighing on them. They were having trouble getting money and getting food, and they knew that gangs all over America were being wiped out around them. Arthur and Hosea would talk about how bad it was getting, and more than once members of the gang would tell Hosea that they just want to be loyal. They want to be safe again but they would never leave their family. The final straw was at the fault of Micah. 

When Arthur went to retrieve Micah in Strawberry he ended up discussing the jailed outlaw with the sheriff. He was going to get the man drunk and then get Micah out Hosea style, but when he spoke to that drunk sheriff he learned a lot. The sheriff revealed that the Pinkertons had been by and spoke with him and that he was part of a famous gang. With further prompting, the sheriff dropped the bomb that Micah was a rat. The Pinkertons had come to Strawberry to take Micah away because they knew who he was but offered him a deal. They would let him wait here to be saved and then continue feeding Pinkertons information, or they could haul him off to Siska and hang him before the gang even noticed he was gone. And so Arthur thanked the wasted lawman for his time and left Strawberry without the rat. 

When he got back and talked to Dutch and Hosea, he shared that Micah had told the law everything he knew and planned to come back as a rat. They knew very well that Micah knew far too much and finally Hosea knew what he was going to do with that land. With Dutch and Arthur there, he explained everything about his brother in law, and then he let them know *his* plan.

Hosea wanted the gang safe, even if that meant not being a gang anymore. He had been the shoulder to cry on for Lenny, who missed young Jenny. For Karen, who drunkenly admitted that she might be in love with Sean but never told him. For Tilly, who was terrified her old gang would find her again and she would be back where she was when she was 12. And for many others, who felt so broken by the last few months. His plan was to start collecting as much money as they can and use it to pay off their bounties and move to the ranch. To buy a few heads of cattle, take their chicken, buy some pigs and sheep, and start that ranch up again. 

Dutch thought it was crazy. Arthur agreed, but the look of hope in the blonde’s eyes was enough to see what he really thought. Dutch was angry, he was so so angry that Hosea would suggest this after everything they had been through. He even threw it back in Hosea’s face that he had tried to live the regular life, that Hosea couldn’t do it. That insult was the last straw.

He told Dutch that if he didn’t do this, he was going to die alone on a hill made from the bodies of this gang. People were going to leave him behind because they all know that the age of gangs and crime is over. Or worse, they would be loyal to him and they would die for it. Dutch would be responsible for the deaths of everyone in this camp. And with Dutch still stunned by the older man’s outburst, Arthur spoke up. He thought they could do it, and he would follow Hosea if that’s what would secure the safety of his new family. That’s what finally drilled it into Dutch’s head that this is the only option. His orphan son, who he had rescued off the streets at fourteen, was willing to leave him behind for this new plan. 

The first person they let into the new plan was surprisingly Strauss. While Hosea was sure they could figure it out, he needed to know just how realistic he was being here. He knew they would need to figure out what their collective bounties were and how they were going to pay that off. Strauss did a little math and a little research. Dutch himself had a $5000 bounty in New Austin. Hosea had around $2000 on his head, and everyone else (including Arthur) altogether was around $2000 max. They were lucky that many of the members were unidentified, meaning they were without bounties. Strauss told them they would need to get around $9000 dollars, and then another $500-$1000 to get the ranch started based on his estimations.

Getting the money would be hard if they kept the plan to themselves. The next people the three men told were Susan and John. They would need to start brainstorming ideas on how to get the money. Arthur was going to enlist the help of Javier and Charles to track down every treasure hidden across the map. John would start asking around towns for small jobs, legal ones. People who needed help building things, finding people, etc. Susan would have the girls get as much information as they could about possible leads with fake stories about their deadbeat husbands needing jobs to support their children or stories about wanting honest work for themselves to avoid becoming a prostitute. Everyone would have to pitch in, the only issue with this is that they couldn’t tell everyone yet, lest something go wrong and they can’t do it.

As they were collecting the money and saving, the gang was beginning to get suspicious. They were all working far harder and far more than usual for no apparent reason. Dutch was sending them to do legal work which was extremely odd, and the money they were earning was just sitting around waiting to be spent. Dutch knew he would have to tell them what was happening eventually, but he didn’t know how. He would have to tell the gang that they were no longer going to be a gang. That he was ending the life of crime they knew but expecting them to follow him into a new one. 

When they found Sean again, alive, spirits were high. They had his welcome home party and everyone celebrated. But Dutch was the first to see the toll that months of time spent with the bounty hunters had done to the man. He had new scars that he was hiding from his family, he was missing a tooth that he definitely had when he left. He had been tortured for months, and no matter how well he hid it, Dutch knew it was time for his gang to be safe again. 

Not long after the welcome party, many of the individual members knew. Charles learned from Arthur, Sean overheard a discussion between Hosea and Arthur and eventually told Karen, Susan learned from Dutch, etc. Soon Dutch was ready to tell the gang. And then Arthur ran into the Pinkertons when he was fishing with Jack and it really was the right time to say it. They moved to the new spot near Rhodes at Dutch’s insistence, if it were up to Hosea they would have up and left for the ranch instead but there were still a few things to be finalized. Once they were safe once more, Dutch made a speech. Arthur had let everyone know that Mac was dead, but hadn’t ratted them out and that Micah was dead too and he had been a rat, not long after he found out. And then he nudged Dutch forward to tell everyone what their new life could be. 

Dutch told them the whole plan, told them that they would be safer and they would be happier, but they had to trust him. And if they couldn’t trust him, they could trust Hosea. The gang is loyal, many of them were saved by Dutch and even with their uncertainty, they chose to go with him to this new life. And so in the next 2 months or so, they had enough money to pay their bounties. The Pinkertons would have to leave them alone, provided they played by the law. So they all travelled to New Austin to live on a ranch, and become more of a family than a gang. Bill was there for a while, until one night he wasn’t. There was a note in his room claiming that they had all turned into a bunch of soft bellied do gooders and he was going to start his own gang. Nobody searched for him.

[broken-hearts-lives-among-us]

Pretending (Part 4) Jughead J. x Reader

Hi~ Long time no read haha, I honestly drop this story because my life became busier with college, and then I stopped watching the show as the plot lose my interest. Yet, as I was reliving my Tumblr I came across with Part 3 and Part 2, which I really enjoyed, so I thought I might just give the story an end, since I’m fond to the characters of the show and my own OCs, Not really sure if anyone is gonna read it, specially since I won’t be following the exact plot and timeline as the original show, but, I kinda feel that’s what an imagine is about, so ooopsie

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Summary: Drama in Riverdale seems to never end, your home-life was a mess, your past was still hunting you, yet, breaking up with your boyfriend was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. How are you supposed to go through all the chaos that was coming? Are you going to keep pretending to be the normal nice girl? Or his your heart willing to reveal it’s true skin?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Jughead Jones x reader

Words: 4583

Note: English isn’t my first language, I deeply apologize for any mistake.

Disclaimer: Since I’m writing this as someone who doesn’t follow the current plot of the show, I’m unaware of the fandom’s situation, so I just want to clarify that this fic is only meant to entertain, it doesn’t hate or trash in any character, I still love the cast of the show so I’m not here with any negative vibes, pls keep it like this, I’ll try my best to write the most human, imperfect, mistake makers characters, you’re welcome not to read if you don’t like it, thanks y’all!

“Easy there, Hot Dog.” you said calming down the little dog that seemed overwhelmed by the presence of the beanie-less Jughead Jones III. “He’s family.” You added smirking at him, quite pleasant by the shock in his features.

Tall Boy started talking, dragging his attention from you to the man. “We heard your dad could have named names, but he didn’t.”

His eyes were on you just as he heard that, you just winked an eye to him.

“We wanted you to know, no matter what happens to him, however long he's gone, we've got your back.”

The serpents were all looking at him, some with decision and compromise, some with thankful welcoming eyes.

“This is yours… If you want it.” You mentioned, giving him a leather jacket with the Southside Serpents’ logo.

Your heart flattered as you saw him putting on the jack.

Good Lord, he’s hot.

No one could deny how good Jughead looked in that jacket, it suited him perfectly, he belonged to them. You looked at him, smiling as you with that quirky sparkle in his eyes, and he smiled to you slightly.

Like it was meant to be.

“Juggy?”

Snap.

That’s how you felt your world while you and the Jones kid both turn around to see a pretty blonde girl hiding her body behind the wall, confusion marked all over her face. It didn’t take you long to notice the state of her clothes.

His clothes too.

Oh.

Noticing the sudden mood in the air, Jughead spun around seeing at your figure with horror in his eyes.

“I think we might have interrupted something, gentlemen.” You said towards the group without looking at him. “We should leave.” You got down the stairs as you suggest the departure.

“Dismiss.” Ordered Tall Boy, everyone following you, as you became smaller and smaller with the distance.

You collapse in your homemade bed as you arrived at the Whyte Wrym, you’re staying in a little room at the second floor thanks to the fact that the manager owned FP a favor. You felt Hot Dog jumping by your side.

“Can you believe it Hot Dog?” you said looking at him incredulous. “I mean, yeah we waited because when we started to date we were too young to make that kind of things, but even tho, hell they have just been some months together.” You covered your face with your hands, memories of Jughead’s touch filling your mind.

He was so fucking good and lovely at bed.

And now all of that was in hands of the Cooper girl.

“Here comes the green-eye monster Hottie.” You announced looking at the puppy. “How he dares forgetting me so easily? I’m glad we ruined their night.” You huffed crossing your arms.

As your head started to hurt you decided it was better to sleep than overthink. You cuddle as you could, embracing Hot Dog between your arms, closing your eyes hoping that the next day you would be blessed to avoid the beanie boy.

Successfully, you hadn’t see your ex for a week or so, apparently, he kept dumping classes to go to the northside, but who could blame him? With all this Archie’s father being shot and The Black Hood thing going on, it was pretty normal for him to be there.

If not, he was shut in the Red&Black newspaper office. It was kind of funny, yet kind of sad how you two would remain like strangers under the same roof, even if not so along you were soulmates.

With that being said, today was an odd day, you entered your class as normal, your presence shutting down everyone as usual, walked to your destined seat, in front of Toni, diagonal to Sweet Pea and beside Jughead. What?

You faced at your left being welcomed by those intense blue-greenish eyes that could make everyone in the room faint with a stare. You looked sights for a second, broke apart when the professor entered the room.

He started to talk, the class started to become noisier, making the teacher fight for the attention, it made you grew impatient at the idiotic attitude of your classmates. You harshly kicked the desk at your right startling everyone, the room fall in silence just a second later.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.” said the professor continuing with the lecture, you nodded absently as you tried to focus on his words rather than the handsome boy next-desk that couldn’t keep look away from you.

The class kept the same pace you had managed to achieve, your mind spaced out as the clock’s tic-tac rhythm filled the room, making everyone count the seconds unconsciously. Distracting you from the pass of the time a little paper ball was throw to you from your left.

You opened cautiously, no bothering in turning around to see the paper’s owner.

“What was that?” was written in a small quick handwriting.

You furrowed your eyebrows crumpling the paper and throwing it away.

Just a few seconds later another paper ball landed in your desk. You sighed no bothering open it, you just set it aside.

A minute later it wasn’t a ball what arrived, it was a full paper plane with the words ‘Stop ignoring me’ written at a wing.

You opened it tired of the little game.

‘What was that?’

You rolled your eyes taking a pen answering. ‘What was what?’ you threw the paper at his direction not even looking, you could hear Toni chuckling behind you, well at least she was having fun.

The paper was with you a minute later, his plane form was built again.

‘Earlier you hit a desk, and everyone shut up.’

‘Yeah, you’re welcomed.’

You extended your arm to pass him the paper this time, your hands touched as he took it.

‘I owe you my life ;P but my question was why did they shut up because of you, they looked afraid.’

You couldn’t help but smile a little at the little face he drew in the paper. ‘Oh no, they weren’t afraid. Well, not at all, they just respect me. And lets just keep it like that.’

You looked at him finally, leaving the paper at his desk. “End of the conversation.” You said quietly, the bell ringing just a second later, you took your stuff and stormed out of the class before anyone else.

Jughead’s PoV

I sat at the canteen with the other serpents, my eyes instantly scanning the place to see a certain Y/H with Y/H/C.

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked as she was nowhere near to be seen.

“She doesn’t sit with us.” Said Sweet Pea bluntly.

I just throw a confused look to Toni.

“She just sits there.” She said calmly pointing out at her in a desk a little far away, all alone.

“What the hell?!” I felt by heart sinking in fear at her sight “You just let her sit alone?! The Ghoullies are gonna eat her alive!” as sudden as I said that the table broke in laughs.

Noticing my unbelieved face Toni faced me. “I kind of think she sits there to protect us.”

“How?” I asked as her answer didn’t make any sense.

“Well, she used to sit with us, but the Ghoullies did come to bother her even if we were with her, after that she started sitting alone.”

“The Ghoullies stopped coming, just focused on her.” Continued Fangs.

“Why?”

“Because she was Southside’s bookworm.” Answered Sweet Pea making me glared at him because of the nickname he has given to her.

“And even if we tried to help her she stopped us.” Fangs sighed as everyone else nodded.

“But now none of the Ghoullies has the guts to face her.” I looked up at Sweet Pea who was smirking at Y/N’s direction.

I arched a brow confused. “Are you kidding me?”

“No” said Toni smiling. “It’s true, it was awesome Jones. One day an idiotic asshole Ghoullie mentioned her family and threated her about hurting her cousin.”

“She exploded.” Fangs concluded with a glint of joy in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I said gulping the anxiety out of my voice.

“She beat the hell out of him and his friends.” Sweet Pea nodded fondly at the memory.

“Sweet Pea had to stop her when she took the fire extinguisher.”

He nodded again. “I’m still curious about what she would have done with it.”

“That’s how she finished earning the respect of all the gang and the school.” Toni finished, all looking at Y/N’s desk where she ate an apple reading a little book in her other hand. “She looked so hot. The serpent’s loner wolf.”

“Riverdale’s Sweetheart.” Argued Fangs earning a glare from Toni.

“Southside’s bookworm.” Said SP taking part of the argument.

I felt my blood boiling at their comments. “That’s enough.” I scold them loudly dragging their attention to me. “Stop tagging her for God’s sake. She hates that. You can’t just classify her in a category you know? Y/N is just too unique to fit in one of those mundane descriptions.” I ranted taking my tray.

I leaved the serpent’s safe zone and proceeded to walk towards the girl with the serpent jacket and the book.

“Mind if I sit?” I said taking the seat in front of her.

“I actually mind, yes. But as always you’re just gonna do whatever you want.” She said not even looking at me.

I took a moment to appreciate her, with all the shit that has been going on the town, I hadn’t notice her subtle change, her makeup was just a smidge more notorious and rebellious, her hair was more wild, her soft face was now contrasted by her hard expression, her Serpent jacket embraced her body in all the right places, she emitted this new sensation of power and sassiness, even with the sweet glimpse that was still in her eyes.

“You know Jones? That look you’re strolling all over my body can be consider sexual harassment, jail won’t be seen good at your curriculum.” She said quietly, yet cold enough to freeze my train of thought.

I blushed furiously as she noticed it. “Sorry, it’s just… You look different.”

“I guess.” She muttered bluntly.

“It suits you.” I smirk at her slightly.

She looked at me for the first time in all the conversation. “Thanks.” Her eyes sunk down at her book again, I didn’t feel her blush, her voice didn’t stutter neither, her eyes didn’t look at mine with warm, unlike every time I used to compliment her, and it hurt me, the fact that she treated me like a stranger was slowly killing me.

“Y/N… Listen, I’m being honest. I don’t like our current status.” I said snatching her book to have her full attention.

“Oh, you mean ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend? Well I’m sorry it bothers you, but it wasn’t my decision.” She took the book away from me.

“I know… I know I hurt you and I’m sorry for that, I didn’t mean to screw up the things between us, but, can’t we just be friends? Please…”

She locked eyes at me, thinking quietly, she slowly began to open her book, ready to ignore me again. Being as fast as I could I took the book again this time my other hand has gripping her wrist.

She sighed. “I guess I could pretend to.” I could her the bluntness in her voice.

“Pretend?” I repeat quietly amused. “I was expecting something more real… Like a true friend, I need you here Y/N.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s disappointing to you but is the best I can offer you.”

“Why can’t we just be friends, like when we were kids… Come on, don’t you miss me…?” I hold her hand between mine, craving to feel her warming soft skin.

“No. We can’t.” She removed her hand from mine.

I silently cursed, her rejection hurting me down my soul.

“Why not?” I asked bitterly.

“Because friends don’t love each other like I love you. Because friends don’t crave for the touch and the kisses of the other. Because friends can be okay to see you with your girlfriend. But I can’t, I can’t be your friend because I’m in love with you, you idiot, I want to be your girl, I want to be your best friend, your confident, your person. But I’m not, so don’t ask me to be okay and be your friend. Because I can’t, I just can pretend to.”

I saw her eyes growing watery, but I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t react I didn’t know how, she has never talked to me so harshly. She blinked, stopping the tears from falling, she avoided my eyes and stood up, walking trough the door, leaving me there, with her book between my hands, in the cold lonely bench, in a cold lonely mess.

I saw the book’s cover, it was a little antique poem book we stole from the library some years ago, I flip the pages until end, there in the back face of the book, was a little photo attached with some tape, it was an old polaroid photo of us, with Tobias, the baby was in her arms giggling, I had my hands in her waist as I embraced her, she between my legs, her back leaning against my torso, I was looking at the camera with a faint smile, and she was…

She was looking at me…

I tighten my grip on the book as I exanimated her face, her pupils were slightly bigger, and her smile was little, but warmly breathtaking, her eyes were soft, I knew that expression, it was the same she put whenever she admire something, like an art piece, or when Tobias said his first word, I loved that expression, yet, I never knew…

She saw me like that.

My heart sunk as the realization that maybe, maybe all this time I never took a moment to realize those little things about her, and our relationship, and now it was too late to think of them, maybe…

Maybe I got too used to have her around, that I looked at her, but I didn’t see her.

Life has mastered the irony, as the loner boy was now the one to say hi, when he was the first to say bye, and the sweet girl refused to answer back as she tried hard not to fall apart.

I went to the Red&Black office to clear my mind, I took the local newspaper and my heart pound as a read the headline, a cryptograph from the Black Hood to solve? Sounds like a case for Sherlock Jones, I sat starting to analyze it when the creaking sound of the door caught my attention.

There she was, Y/N herself entering the office with Toni, some boxes in their hands.

“Oh, you’re here.” Toni said putting her box in the desk.

“Yeah… Hey have you seen the news?” I said looking at both.

Y/N just left her box next to Toni´s and stormed out of the room.

Toni looked at me with a scold on her face. “Did you do something to her?”

“W-What? No, she’s just… We’re in the middle of the ex’s war zone.”

“Ex?” She said widening her eyes.

“You didn’t know? I thought you knew her!” I replied mimicking her expression.

“And I do, but she never talked about her love life, I didn’t get to ask her neither.”

I sighed covering my face with my hands. “Don’t tell anyone.” I asked sternly.

“May I ask what happen?” She said raising a brow. “Like bro, who dumps a girl like Y/N? or what did she did for you to leave her. No wait, did she dumped you? That makes more sense.”

I looked at her, too tired to explain myself or to discuss, I just told her everything vaguely.

“So, Mrs. Pony Tail and you started to grow closer, you both develop feelings and she convinced you to try a relationship even tho she knew that you were Y/N’s everything.”

“No!” I yelled angry. “When you say it like that it sounds cruel.”

“And you really just left an almost three years, relationship like that. You’re easier than I thought Jones.”

I growled. “Thanks Toni.” I give her the newspaper changing the subject. “Wanna solved it together?”

She sighted looking at me, smirking faintly. “Hell yeah.”

Y/N’s PoV.

There was an awkward silence in the room, just the sound of the pencils on the paper or the flipping of the pages filling the mood.

I can’t really tell how I ended up in this situation, I just know that I gave up at Toni’s begging for me to join she and Jug to decipher the Black Hood’s code, but she never mentioned it was going to be at Jug’s trailer, neither she told me that Betty was coming too, although the pissed expression in her face makes me believe she had no idea.

The bright side of this was that Kevin had come too, I was so happy to see him that I just jumped into his arms when he noticed me, he was currently resting my back against mine as we helped each other to reach a comfort

“These symbols look so familiar to me.” Said Betty breaking the silence, catching all our attention. “It's like I've seen them before and it's driving me crazy I can't figure out where.” She added sounding frustrated.

“Maybe if you loosened your ponytail.” Said Toni bluntly. I facepalmed internally as I saw the offended faces of the Northsiders. “What? That was a joke, guys.” she cleared, yet it was already too late, I sight hearing Kevin’s indignation.

“Betty's ponytail is iconic and beyond reproach.”

“Kev. It's fine. And at this point, I'm willing to try anything.” Betty said loosening her ponytail as Toni said, being free from it.

I looked at her for a moment as the other returned to discuss the important matter of the night. Betty wasn’t a bad girl, not even close, yet I couldn’t help but be mad, she knew all my story with Jughead, every single fucking detail, and yet she didn’t even think about it when they started dating… But then again, I didn’t have any right in the Jones boy… He was free to fall in love and leave, so was Betty.

I heard vaguely part of their conversation as I started to feel dizzy, getting even sicker as I notice the tension in their voices, there was a war getting near, I could feel it.

“No, I mean like why, why is he killing people? Or at least, why now? We know the Hood's obsessed with cleansing the town of sinners and hypocrites, right? And he seems to be attacking anyone with ties to the Northside.” I tried to focus in Betty’s analysis as my head spun around.

“Here we go with the fake news again.” Said Toni getting in a defensive attitude, I slapped myself mentally finally waking up as I knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“Toni.” I said calmly looking at her. “Breath.”

“No! This Northsiders and their privilege. All you do is demonize the Southside so of course you think the Black Hood's from there.”

“It's not demonizing, Toni. It's stating facts.” Betty excused herself not helping Toni to calm down. “There's way more drugs and gangs.” The little Cooper continued, yet it didn’t take long for Toni to interpose.

“And the drugs you mean which were sold primarily to Northside crackheads? And what about the Northside Neo-Nazis?” Perfect, Archie´s little gang was now on the discussion. I looked at Kevin’s awkwardness, sharing the feeling, as we were the ones in the middle watching all the drama.

“The Red Circle?”

“The Red Psychos, you mean. Hell, Betty, I'm surprised you haven't just come out and said it yet.”

“Said what?”

“That you think the Black Hood's a Serpent. We all know how much you hate us.”

“Okay, Toni. I don't hate the Serpents.”

“Oh, yeah? Says the girl who stole a good friend’s boyfriend, mostly just as a whim than for love. Then, tell me why is it that your boyfriend here lies about the fact that he sits with us at lunch?” She ranted her breath getting heavy, I took her arm as I stood up.

“That’s enough Toni, we should go okay?” she scoffed taking her arm back from my grip but starting to gather her things.

“Yeah I’m gonna go too.” Said Kevin looking away from the situation. “Maybe I can walk you home.” He added looking at us, Toni just glared at him. “Or you can walk me home.” He muttered as we exit the trailer, making me chuckle a little.

I took a last glance at the quirky couple we had left behind, being slightly worried for the fight I knew we had caused.

I sighed shaking the thoughts from my head and I looked at Kevin. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“I don’t know, then you’re gonna be all alone walking in the middle of the night when you return.”

“Who said we were going to walk?” I smiled at him passing him a helmet.

He gasped at the sight of it and looked at me in disbelieve. “No way.”

I just laughed. “This way.” I said guiding him to where I had parked my motorcycle. “Beautiful right?” I said caressing the seat.

“Who would imagine little sweet Y/N in a beast like this?” He said amazed. “Boys most be head over heels for your bad girl version, right?”

“Just a smidge” I winked at him jokingly “Wanna do a bad boy version yourself?” I said sit think in the motorcycle “Come on lazy turtle, hop on.”

After dropping Kevin at his house, winning a worried glance from our local sheriff by the way -I guess laying to him didn’t help our relationship- I returned to the White Wrym ready to shut everything down and gain a good night of sleep.

-

Since the day after the “solve coding party” was Saturday you decided to help serving at the White Wrym thing you usually did whenever you got the time as a way to show gratitude for your little room and your food. Life was just easier like this, not worrying about anything or anyone, your only problem now was, ironically, Forsythe Pendleton Jughead Jones III. Screw him for interrupting your peace.

“What are you thinking about?” The voice of the pink haired serpent girl woke you up from your thoughts.

You looked at her for a straight second without saying anything as if you were still on a trance.

“Um.. . There’s a murderer on the loose, I have to finish my report before Monday and Hog Eye is running out of tequila” you listed as you cleaned some glasses from the place “There’s a lot to think about Toni”

She raised an eyebrow skeptical “Yeah… Sure… That includes Jughead Jones, am I right?”

“Not quite actually, but it does include the little war that was throw yesterday at his trailer” You looked at her putting a glass down and sighed “They’re not bad Toni, Betty is not just a basic mean girl… She’s nice”

“Are you really defending that white Northside girl? And after she stole your boyfriend?” She asked indignated.

You took a heavy breathe “Northsider or not, that doesn’t matter at all, she’s not bad, and I still appreciate her as a friend. Am I hurt? Yes. Am I angry? Yeah, a little bit. But Betty didn’t put a gun in Jones’ head, he could have said no, yet he didn’t, and is his right, and is her right to fall in love with whoever she wants… I believe in sorority and I can’t just judge her and shame her or hate her because of this… This things… They just happens sometimes. She’s not the bitch you think she is.”

Toni looked at the floor taking your words in, thoughtfully, maybe even a little ashame.

“But” you continued, smiling at her truthfully “I highly appreciate the fact that you like me enough to acknowledge and worry about my feelings, thank you Toni, for real, you’re a great friend” You took her hand squeezing it a little bit, she looked at you slightly surprised at this new face you had never show to her.

You didn’t saw, or heard about anyone from the other side of the own in the whole, it was just as usual as before everything in Riverdale started falling down.

And even if you felt comfortable with the mood, you couldn’t help but think it was a bit strange too, as you saw the moonlight walking down the rain, an uneasy feeling started forming on your gut. Maybe it had something to do with the serial killer on the loose, maybe.

You heard a spray paint can, the unique sound of the paint being ejected against the wall caught your attention, yet you didn’t look for the source, since that wasn’t unusual in this part of the town, you decided it was better to ignored it, but after hearing Archie’s voice you couldn’t help but turn around.

“You can’t just come here and tag our turf.” Said Sweet Pea with anger in his voice. “So why don’t you get your ass back to the Northside before someone gets hurt?” He snapped at Archie threatening.

“Get my way, or someone will be hurt” said Archie without a glimpse of fear in his voice.

“You just made a terrible mistake” you saw Sweet Pea taking his knife out of his pocket, your blood turned cold and you ran as fast ass you could.

“Sweet Pea! NO! Stop!” You yelled, your words trying to reach him. Yet your steps stopped abruptly as you saw with fear the gun Archie had in front of you three, as you heard his heartbroken, heavy, tired and paranoid voice screaming “Who made a mistake?!”

“What the hell?!” Was the last thing you heard from the pair of serpent that was there before they ran off, yet you didn’t run, looking straight into Archie’s eyes.

You watched him carefully as he put the weapon down, breathing heavily squeezing his knees.

You contemplated the big red circle on the wall for a minute “I’ll guess you need a ride” He looked at you saying nothing, still in shock.

“It’s been a long time” You commented as you stopped in front of Archie’s house “The last time I was here Jughead broke my heart” a bittersweet laugh scape from your lips but you shut it as you saw Archie’s uncomfortable expression.

“Sorry, that was something dumb to say” the blush in your face creeped as you apologized.

Archie nooded, not knowing what to say “Do you want to come in and dry yourself?” He asked with concerned seeing your wet dripping because of the rain.

You smiled at him feeling that little nostalgic warmth “Yes, yes please” he opened the door as you followed him, both of you oblivious of the worried blonde her next door.

“Veronica? I think you better come here, quick!” Said Betty, concerned following her trembling voice.

“Archie might cheat on you!” Was the last thing Veronica Lodge heard before hung up her phone.

~

Hi again~ if you read everything till here and you liked it, thanks for the support! I’ll do my best to not disappear again oopsie

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[aweirdkindofyellow]

The J.A.C.I.E. Project, Pt. 3

JACIE Jay-see \ d͡ʒˈe͡ɪsi \ See Jennifer Anna Clara Isabell Evans. An ambitious 21-year-old music student, striving to find her place in the industry.

JACK Jak \ d͡ʒæk \ A guy ten years older than Jacie, who takes a liking to her.

Chapter 3

I woke up in a dark room, in a bed that most definitely wasn’t mine. The mattress was so soft and the pillows so plush. I didn’t own something so nice. As if the high ceilings and tall windows with blackout curtains didn’t say enough, the deep breathing coming from behind me definitely did. There was a huge gap in my memory, but I could still remember seeing Jack and going home with him. The chunk in between, though, was gone.

I carefully shuffled around, trying my best not to wake Jack, and looked around at the floor. My purse had conveniently been discarded right at the bottom of the nightstand. I briefly glanced behind me and saw Jack sleeping on his stomach, his arms hooked around the pillow he was using. Still, trying to make as little movement as possible, I stretched out and nearly fell off the bed trying to get to my purse. I could barely graze it with my finger tips, but managed to bring it closer.

As soon as it was within reach, I grabbed it and opened it to check my phone. It was 8:45 am, I had forty missed notifications, three missed calls, and an alarm that was about to go off in fifteen minutes. The first thing I did was turn off the alarm as I pushed myself up and sat up. I was already awake, I didn’t need another reminder. The missed calls were from while we were still at the club, so I figured those didn’t matter anymore. And the messages were from my friends trying to coordinate where they had all ended up and reminding each other that we were going to go out for brunch at ten o’clock.

I shot them a quick text to show them I was alive and awake and ready to continue the celebrations. Immediately, I started getting messages back, asking me about every single detail. I ignored it all for now and locked my phone. Jack was still fast asleep. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Was I going to be rude and just leave without a trace or was I going to be rude and wake him up? I had had one night stands before, and I always knew exactly what to go for. There was always a feeling about which option would be the right choice. But this time I was unsure.

He was sleeping so deeply that I figured there would be no point trying to play it off and act like I was also still asleep until he woke up. And I also had somewhere to be. Before my birthday brunch, I was going to need to get changed as well. There wasn’t any time I could waste. I could only have looked like quite a mess after that night.

I went against the feeling of not just leaving him and got out of the bed. This time, however, I wasn’t as careful anymore. Part of me was hoping he’d wake up from my movement. But when I turned around as my feet touched the floor, he hadn’t even moved an inch. I counted my losses and put on my panties and dress, figuring that this was the end of it all. Not that that would have been horrible, it just felt strange.

To my surprise, he actually started stirring while I was awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, busy trying to tie my hair up in an attempt to make it less messy.

“Hey,” I greeted him when I noticed his eyes fluttering slightly.

A sleepy smirk graced his face when he saw me. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” I apologised while I tied the hair tie around my ponytail.

“No, you’re good.” He stretched out and rolled onto his side. “What time is it?”

“Nine am.”

“Nine am?”

“Is it a little too early for you?” I grabbed my phone, which I had temporarily put on the nightstand, and put it back into my purse.

“A little yeah,” he agreed and nodded. “Don’t you think so as well?”

“No, not really, I just woke up.” I shrugged and also picked up my heels, deciding that they were not going to go back on.

He whistled and rubbed his eyes. “Are you not tired? No hangover?”

“Party all night, work all day.”

“Damn…” He sighed, showing that he was impressed with how I was either not feeling it or at least playing it off. “Alright. Well, I’m assuming you’re off then?”

“As much as I’d love to stay, I do actually have a breakfast to get to with my friends.”

“I won’t even second guess that, you haven’t lied to me yet.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I enjoyed last night.” I winked.

He didn’t respond back with something similar, instead he asked, “can I get your number?”

“My number?” I raised an eyebrow in amusement. “What, do you keep a list of trophies?”

“I just want to be able to talk to you.”

I considered my options. There actually wasn’t a reason why I wouldn’t give it to him. If he did nothing with it, then that was that and it didn’t matter. If he did contact me, then I could possibly have another amazing night, which only sounded like something positive. He wasn’t some guy that I didn’t want messaging me. So, there really wasn’t anything from stopping me.

“Alright,” I reached out my hand to signal that he should give his phone.

He turned over to grab his phone from his nightstand and unlocked it before reaching out the length of the bed to hand it to me. I took a step closer and took it from him, finding it already on a new contact page. I filled in my name as J.A.C.I.E. so he couldn’t mix me up with anybody else, my name was an acronym afterall. Of course, I put in my actual phone number and saved the contact before handing it back to him.

“I’ll walk myself out,” I gestured towards the door after he checked over what I had put in. “That way you don’t need to get out of bed.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, already preparing to get out of bed.

“Yeah,” I smirked at him and put my hand on the door handle, “I can still walk, believe it or not.”

He smiled back with a knowing look. “It’s the door right across the living room.”

“Thanks.” I winked back one last time and left his room.

I gently closed the door back behind me and was surprised at the living room. It wasn’t that impressive or anything, I just had no recollection of the place at all. He had some random photos and guitars up on his wall, and I spotted some record plaques up at the stairs that led to god-knows-where. I just walked through the apartment and made sure to order an Uber so I could actually get out of here, wherever I was.

Turned out I was somewhere all the way in Studio City. A little ways away from Downtown LA. It wasn’t too bad, but I was glad I left when I did, because that car journey took more than twenty minutes. And that was because we barely had any traffic. I went straight back to Sarah’s apartment. There was no way I’d go home to change. My dad knew I was out with my friends, but he did not need to see me do the walk of shame. If anything, I needed to avoid him seeing me do one. He did not need to know.

I felt pretty judged the whole ride back. The driver probably wasn’t judging me at all. He was most likely used to driving people home in my situation and I really wasn’t all that embarrassed. I had no regrets. Still, it was like it was ingrained into me, that I had to feel awkward and ashamed. This was no walk of shame. It was the power walk of scoring that night.

Once I got to the apartment, Sarah opened the door very excitedly for me. She had a giddy grin spread across her face and was practically jumping as she let me in. I didn’t know how her night had ended, but she looked ready to go. She was already wearing normal casual clothes and had done her hair and makeup. I looked like a reckless mess next to her.

“Oh my god!” She yelled out as soon as she closed the door. “You need to tell us everything.”

“Is that Jacie?” Hazel’s voice called out from the living room. Once we turned the corner and she saw that it was indeed me, she jumped up from where she was lounging on the couch and sat down, waiting for me to tell the story. “Tell us everything!”

“My back hurts,” I whined with a little laugh. All I could do was rub my hand on my lower back for a bit.

Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I’m going to assume that’s a good thing.”

“He fucked me so good,” I sighed in satisfaction and dropped my shoes on the floor.

“Did he go down on you?!” Sarah joined in again, clapping her hands together in anticipation.

“He did so much more than just go down on me.” I let myself drop down next to Hazel and leaned against her to stare into her eyes. “It was fucking amazing.”

“Best you’ve ever had?” She brushed away some hair in my face.

I breathed out heavily and shrugged in disbelief. “I don’t know how many more years of experience he has, but he’s definitely not some twenty-one-year-old boy.”

“One you go there, you never go back,” Sarah daydreamed.

“Says the one who kicked a boy out at 4am because he was being sloppy,” Hazel snorted.

“Hey!” Sarah threw a pillow at us, only trying to hit Hazel. “I’ll admit that was a low point last night. But – and this is a big one – I did kick him out!”

“What have the others been up to, actually?” I interjected even though I could have probably just checked my text messages to find out.

“No, no, that will come later. Now’s your time to tell us all about that hot blonde guy and you.”

“Well,” I relaxed further into Hazel and she wrapped her arms around me, “let me tell you…”