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#and i’d ask what she was thinkin and she’d give a little half smile and shake her head and say nothing
androidboy · 1 year
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coneedogawa · 1 year
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For @heizuhaevents‘s Heizuha Week 2023 Event. This is for the prompts: Summer homework, Melting, Heat. It’s really short because I don’t have much of the energy to write but hopefully it’s at least somewhat enjoyable. : )
“It’s so hot~!” Kazuha whined. Her AC was busted and as such she’s been burning in the sun for the past 2 hours. To make matters worse, the teacher gave them extra difficult math homework to complete over their break. The heat was only making the assignment harder to complete.
Normally, she’d turn to Heiji for help completing the assignment. As much as he’d groan about how much of a bother it was, he always said yes anyways. However, this time, Heiji was busy practicing Kendo for an upcoming tournament, so he’d have no time to-
“Oi Kazuha, ya really should crank up the AC here!”
-come help her? 
She turned her head to the doorway, watching him wipe his forehead to emphasize his comment. Her eyes turned into half moons as she glared at him.
“The air conditionin’s busted.”
His mouth formed a little ‘o’ as he began examining the damage. “What did ya do ta it? It’s nearly in pieces!”
Turning back to her homework, she scoffed, “I accidentally dropped it tryin’ ta get it in the window. Don’t ya have Kendo practice ta get back ta?”
“Ouch, tryin’ ta kick me out that quickly?” She chose to ignore him, focusing on the next problem.
“Kazuha?”
‘Find X. Well, there’s 5 X’s here and these 3 are squared so if I factor them out…?’
“Kazuha…”
‘Now that’s 11 X’s… Why are there so many?’
“Fine. Ignore me. I can go back ta Kendo. ‘Was just thinkin’ I’d help ya with yer homework but-” He began to walk out the door but she yanked his sleeve to pull him back.
“Wait! Please help me~!” She gave him her classic pleading eyes.
He chuckled before turning back around and crouching down next to her. “Fine.”
30 minutes passed and the heat only seemed to get worse. Heiji had abandoned his shirt about 15 minutes in and Kazuha was desperately trying to keep her eyes from wandering towards his toned chest. One thing she had come to realize as they grew older was just how physically fit her best friend was. Especially now, after years of kendo and chasing criminals. He was very… hot, to put it simply, and she was pretty sure the heat was getting to her head. It was no wonder why he had so many fans.
“Now you want to take the X and… Kazuha?” He raised an eyebrow at her as she snapped her eyes up from his body to his face and then back to the problem.
“I-I’m payin’ attention!” She yelped.
He grew concerned, placing his hand on her shoulder.. “Do ya need water? Ya look dazed.”
“I’m fine.” Her face grew red with his touch as she jerked her head away from him.
‘This idiot’
Heiji sighed as he stood and stretched his arms and legs out. “Maybe it’s best we get somewhere cooler.” As his arms raised, his chest became more prominent, catching her attention once again. She could see his muscles ripple with his stretching and his chest rising with each slow breath. Suddenly, her brain became mush again and she could no longer process anything else.
“We could go out for some ice cream or somethin’?” Being as distracted with his chest as she was, she didn’t notice his face go red as he proposed the idea. 
She also didn’t notice how his face got even redder as he noticed her silence and followed her eyes to his chest.
“Uhh… Kazuha? Are ya... starin’ at my chest?” He asked nervously, almost unbelieving.
Finally her brain snapped back to attention. “H-Huh? Yer chest? I uh…” It took a minute before she fully processed his question. The red on her face grew even more vibrant as she squeaked. “N-no! I wasn’t! I was uh… lost in thought about the next few math problems! They look really tricky!” She laughed nervously.
For a moment, he seemed confused. Then his eyes grew wide in realization and started to smile, his face turning even more red. “Well… let’s just ignore the assignment for now and go get ice cream.” Without giving her time to respond he walked out of the room with a wide grin.
Kazuha stared at the open door, somewhat confused by his demeanor.
“By the way, ya were on the last problem, dumbass!” She heard him yell from downstairs. 
Her eyes widened she blushed in embarrassment. 
“Huh?!”
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gamma-gal-24 · 1 year
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Hey shawty 😏
Hooooow abouuutttt 💗 from the kiss prompts for tank or Bradley 👀
You're welcome 💜✨️
AHHHHHH I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG- I COULDN'T DECIDE BETWEEN MY BABIES!!😭💞 Ended up going with Tank for this one since Bradley got the spotlight for the last one. And let's face it, poor sweet Tank doesn't get NEARLY enough attention!❤❤❤ So, without further ado, here is the long awaited fluff! ^^
TANK x STELLA Kiss drabble ask~
💗: Slow kiss/ Gentle kiss/ inevitable/ soft
It had been such a long, busy week.
   The X-Games Qualifier, big exams, extra hours at work- Anything that could have prevented Tank and Stella from seeing each other ended up piled on them all at once. Needless to say, they felt just a teensy bit depraved. And Tank’s bad mood made it all the more obvious to everyone around him.
   “Tank, buddy, if your face looked any pissier I’d have to call a janitor.” Bradley teased, half-grinning. The two boys marched on through the crowded hallways, finally free from their last class until tomorrow. Usually, such a break was something they looked forward to, but Tank wasn’t in the mood. The only thing he wanted was busy at work- pouring coffee for pretentious hipsters at the diner down the road. All he cared about was seeing his Stella.
   “Sorry, Bradley… I was just thinkin’ bout-” He was cut off there, his friend raising a hand to silence him. Brad had that sly, all-knowing grin he wore so often. In this instance, it only made Tank’s frown deepen. “Yeah, I know, you’re thinking about your little girlfriend. Why don’t you just go pick her up? Take her out or something. Anything but sit around pouting another day.” Bradley chuckled, his stride quickening ever so slightly. 
   Tank huffed, a sound likened to a bulldog snorting. “If I could I would, but Stella’s been filling in for this chick at work… She’s been stuck there all week. She barely had time to watch the qualifier the other day.” He gave another pitiful look, his own words making him feel all the more lonely. “ I miss her, man.”
   Bradley’s smirk softened to a smile. Never had he ever seen big, tough Tank this down. He couldn't help but feel just a little bit like a big brother, an experience he was never allowed in reality. “Aww, your poor thing!~” He jeered, lightly patting the bigger man on the back, earning him another grouchy look. “Look, just go up to the diner and see her for a little while! Order a coffee and ask her when she gets off! It’s not that hard. Just for the love of all things holy, quit moping.”     At last, a laugh was drawn from the gruff skateboarder. Liking the ideas he was being given and feeling a bit more like himself, he gave Bradley what was supposed to be a light slap on the back. Said boy yelped as he was suddenly pushed forward, almost losing his balance in an attempt to keep from kissing the floor. 
   “Yeah, I can do that! Thanks man, I’ll see ya later.” Tank grinned, slipping past and away, leaving his friend to dust himself off and glare daggers at his back.
   Half shoving his way through the throngs of students and professors, Tank made his way out the university building. If he kept a decent pace, he could walk to the diner in about half an hour. That wouldn’t be so bad. He’d waited all week, what was another thirty minutes? Now if only he had his skateboard with him, then he could probably cut it down to ten- if he ran into a couple pedestrians. Stella wouldn’t be happy about that though. He chuckled to himself at the thought of her scolding him. He could just picture her little arms crossing over her chest, her face trying and failing to look stern as she’d look up nearly a foot and a half to meet his eyes. ‘What a little Squirt-’ He thought fondly.
   With his destination in mind and his heart set on seeing her more than ever, Tank set off to go see his girl. All the way there he imagined the smile she’d give him when he’d arrive- giddy and giggly as ever. Golly how she could giggle. Seemed like that was half of her language some days. But Tank didn’t mind. On the contrary- that chirpy, bubbly sound had become one of his favorite things. Nothing made him feel like more of a man than getting that girl to laugh for him. It just made him feel all warm and mushy inside. Oh and that voice- As much as she told him she loved his deep rumble, he absolutely adored her high, yippy drawl. Just hearing her talk made him smile.
   Just thinking about her talking made him smile now. 
   The half hour walk went quickly with his mind wandering the way it had. Before he knew it, his sneakers had stopped just outside Stella’s workplace. The sidewalk outside was covered in chalk doodles, inviting people to stay or to try the new flavors of pie. Tank snorted back a chuckle, knowing exactly who had been tasked with creating such advertisements. Messing around with chalk was one of Stella’s favorite things to do when the weather was nice.
   He took one last moment to run a large hand through his thick, ginger hair before stepping inside. It didn’t do a thing to make it less messy, but he didn’t know or care in the slightest. Tank was many things, but vain wasn’t one of them. He cared very little about the way he- or anybody else for that matter- looked. All he cared about in that very moment was picking his girlfriend out of the crowd.
   And that he did.
   Tucked away beside a little corner booth was his Stella, notepad in hand as she took one of her regular’s order. That big big heart in Tank’s big big chest gave a little lurch at the sight of her. Her orangey-pink hair was falling out of it’s loose bun- a product of a long day’s work- and her apron was stained beyond cleaning. Not that Tank minded. If anything, he liked seeing her all mussed and messy. It made her seem just a little more real. 
   Considering his size compared to everybody else in the diner, Tank stood out just a little too much for him to go unnoticed for very long. After just a moment, Stella had spotted him by the door. Just as he’d imagined, she lit up like a little Christmas tree as soon as she saw him. All of a sudden her job was put on hold. The only thing she cared about was giving her loverboy a hug. 
   “Tank! What are you doing here, silly boy! I thought you had classes until four today!” She giggled, throwing her arms as far around him as she could, her face resting just under his pecs. The size difference was comical to anyone watching. Tank was quick to scoop her up and crush her in an embrace, his perfect boom of a laugh almost echoing off the diner walls. “I DID, Sweetheart- It’s like five o’clock now!”
   “What?!” Stella shrieked suddenly, peeling away to look him in the face. “That can’t be right! I was supposed to be off at four thirty! Why did nobody tell me?” Tank’s dark eyes went wide, surprised and mildly peeved for poor Stella’s sake. “That’s a good question-” He shot a dirty glance to the owner standing behind the counter. Suddenly Mr. Clancy had other places to be, quickly scurrying off like a rat to avoid Tank’s glare. Tank scoffed, shaking his head. Oh how he hated cowards like that.
   “C’mon, Doll. I don’t think anybody will mind if you head out now that the boss man ain’t starin’ ya down. You don’ have to be here any longer.” He said, setting Stella back on her feet and ruffling her messy, frizzy hair. That earned him one of those laughs he liked so much. “I like that plan. I’ve been here since six this morning; I’m beat!”
  Chuckling, Tank leaned down and brushed her bangs off to the side, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. There were very few things that Tank did with such care. Gentle typically wasn’t ever a word used to describe him. But for his Stella, he’d do his very best.
   Lucky for him, that was all she could ever ask for.
   So, without even a glance back, the smiling couple left the diner hand in hand. They didn’t know where they were headed and frankly neither one cared. They got to spend time together at long last, and that was all that mattered.
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Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!
Your name: submit What is this?
* * *
“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”
“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”
“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.
“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.
He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”
A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”
He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”
“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”
“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”
Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”
“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”
Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”
“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”
She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.
“I will.”
Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.
* * *
I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.
But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.
I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.
She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.
“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…
“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.
“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.
Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.
Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…
I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.
She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.
“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.
She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”
I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.
“Good call,” she said sarcastically.
I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.
She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.
Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.
“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”
Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.
“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”
I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”
“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”
I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”
She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.
“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.
I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.
She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.
“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”
“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”
We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…
Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.
“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.
“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.
“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.
We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.
“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.
My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.
“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.
I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.
She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.
I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”
“Just—hold on—”
Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.
There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.
“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.
She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.
We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.
It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.
It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.
We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.
I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”
“—down. Yeah,” she finished.
My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.
“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.
It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.
“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.
“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…
She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.
I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”
“Fire escape,” I said.
I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”
“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”
“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.
I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.
“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”
“It ain’t—”
She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.
I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.
“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.
“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.
Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.
She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.
“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.
I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.
“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.
I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.
Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.
“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”
“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.
I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”
Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.
As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.
But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.
We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.
“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.
We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.
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All That Was Fair
Chapter 8: The Outside World
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Chapter Summary: Jamie reflects during the aftermath of the fight, then they suit up and begin Claire's first trip into Inverness.
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Read Chapter 8 below the cut
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Chapter 8: The Outside World
***
Jamie Fraser hadn’t known that four simple words— “I don’t need you”— could possibly have torn into him with such vicious aim and rocked his whole world on such a scale. But that was before Claire. The consequence of loving her was that she held his heart in her wee palms, with all the power to shatter it with a single blow. 
He’d known it was a mistake to berate her over going outside. With a clear head, he never would have said those things to her. But after tearing apart the house, anxiety building and building along with the fear that he’d never see her again— and thinking that he’d be back to facing that empty void in his heart alone— his brain had gone straight out the window. 
So he couldn’t blame her for lashing out. He’d deserved it. He had wanted so desperately to protect her that he hadn’t looked at what he was doing to her. 
While sitting there on the couch, having collapsed into a trembling mess, he’d thought he’d mucked it all up. Until she’d taken his hands, his face— touching him with such affection... 
And given him a second chance. 
As he held her in his arms, clasping her to him as if she might suddenly change her mind and push him away, he vowed to himself that he’d use it well. 
Every time he’d held her, even in the mundane moments like sitting beside the space heater, that golden cloud that surrounded her— the warmth of her presence— had encompassed him as well. As he held her now, though, he noticed it seemed weaker. He pulled back a little to study her, furrowing his brow as the now familiar shimmering aura was less visible. 
“What is it?” she asked. 
He shook his head, unsure. This was uncertain ground, and after going through what they just had, he didn’t want to tread on it. “Ach, it’s nothin’, dinna fash.” 
She seemed to accept it, laying her head down on his shoulder and letting out a sigh. His heart stuttered in its steady rhythm as he felt the gravity of her trust and the soul-stealing tenderness of her touch. 
He didn’t have the strength to even think about moving. He would simply wait until she was ready, letting her make the first move, and he would be grateful all the while for everything she was willing to give him. 
In the end, she’d wanted to be held for a long time. There wasn’t a clock around so Jamie couldn’t have said for sure how long, but the minutes passed in a comfortable but weighty silence— each of them enveloped in the other. When she finally stirred, it was to lift her head and give Jamie a brave smile. 
“You know, I told myself that today I would do everything I could to learn about the human world.” 
“Is that so?” he asked. Unable to resist the consuming urge to brush back the single curl that hung over her face, he lifted a hand and gently tucked it behind her ear before continuing, “did ye have anythin’ in mind?” 
She gave him a bit of a helpless look, accompanied by a self-conscious half smile, “I’d hoped maybe you would have some ideas about what we should do.” 
“Weel,” he gave her an assessing look, “seein’ as ye’re currently drownin’ in my clothes, I’m thinkin’ it wouldna be a bad idea tae go out and get ye some of yer own that fit properly. What do ye say, mo nighean donn, are ye ready for a trip to the human world?” 
***
It took Jamie a short while to get them ready to go. Since Claire didn’t have any shoes, Jamie had to track down something that could remotely protect her feet. Jamie was a big man, with feet to match, and Claire’s feet reflected her own dainty features— they were nearly half the size of his. He’d settled on a pair of old hiking boots, kneeling down in front of Claire and lacing them as tightly as he possibly could. But the moment she stood up and took a few exploratory steps, they flopped so terribly on her feet that she’d stumbled and nearly fallen against Jamie. He’d grabbed her by the arms, helped her upright, and then went back to the drawing board. 
He’d emerged again from his basement bearing sandals with adjustable straps. However, knowing her proclivity toward getting chilled, he’d first bundled her wee feet into two layers of socks before strapping her into the sandals. 
She was sitting at the kitchen table, patiently allowing him to prepare her shoes while he knelt on the ground in front of her and tried to make sure they were secure. 
As he straightened, he couldna help but laugh at the ridiculous nature of the situation— Claire sitting there, slightly swinging her sock-and-sandaled feet that he’d just dolled her up in. 
“I’m a right Prince Charming, it seems, but ye’re the strangest Cinderella I’ve ever seen,” he chuckled to himself. 
He was answered by a perplexed look. She was so lost that she didn’t even try to echo the words, just gave him big doe-eyes of confusion. 
That sent him laughing again. “Dinna fash, Sassenach,” he gave a dismissive wave of his hand, “jes’ a wee bit o’ human stuff. So… are ye ready tae face the outside world?” 
She gave a decisive nod, looking like she was steeling herself to face the guillotine, and stood up with surprising grace. 
Despite her elegant air and fierce determination, the situation only grew more ridiculous to Jamie as he took in the sight of her standing in all her splendor— his tee-shirt huge on her tiny frame, sweatpants pulled up nearly to her oxters and drawn tight (yet the hems still puddled on the ground), and with socks and sandals as the pièce de résistance. 
It was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen. 
“Ye look verra bonny, Sassenach,” he stifled yet another laugh, his heart clenching with the force of his affection for her, “but I do think it’s a good thin’ we’re goin’ tae get ye yer own clothes.” 
Her lips quirked as she glanced down at herself and then up at him. 
“I take it this isn’t the typical outfit for human females?” she said, good-naturedly laughing at herself. 
Jamie shook his head. 
“I can assure ye it’s not. But we’ll fix ye up soon enough. Here,” he offered her his arm, “take my arm so ye dinna trip over yer pants.” 
She did, her wee hand slipping into the crook of his elbow and holding on to his bicep. 
With that, Prince Charming led his princess out to the waiting car. 
*
Claire seemed somewhat taken aback when they approached the vehicle and shot him a wary glance. Her hand tightened on his arm, making him stop short. 
“What… is it?” she asked timidly. 
“My car? Do ye no remember ridin’ in it when I took ye home from the stones?” he asked. 
She shook her head. “I don’t remember much, it’s all pretty foggy. Other than you, of course,” she blessed him with another one of those mega-watt smiles. 
“Och, weel, ye were pretty ou’ of it, I cannae blame ye. This is a car. We get inside, and use it tae travel long distances quickly because it moves verra fast.” 
She nodded slightly, but still looked reluctant to go any nearer. Nevertheless, she drew herself up and set her shoulders with fierce determination. 
“I said I’d be brave today and I will be,” she announced firmly. 
“I’m proud of ye, a nighean,” he couldn’t help but say, “and I’ll be right by yer side the whole time. I promise, I willna let anythin’ happen to ye.” 
Much to his delight, that seemed to reassure her. She let go of his arm and walked decisively toward the car. He caught her up and slipped in front to open the door. With nothing more than a shaky inhale and a second of hesitation, she plunged in. 
He shut it behind her and quickly walked around to his side to slide in. Once he was settled, he looked over to her. 
“See, no’ sae bad, right?” 
She seemed to melt a little at that, relaxing back into the seat and nodding. 
“Yeah,” she breathed, “not so bad.” 
But in less than 30 seconds, she was eating her words. As soon as Jamie put the car in reverse and began backing out of the driveway, both of her hands shot out to scramble for purchase on the nearest available surface— one of which was the door, and the other Jamie’s arm. Surprisingly sharp wee nails dug crescents into his forearm, and he struggled to keep his hand in place. 
His first impulse was to stop. She was quite obviously panicking, chest heaving and eyes huge as she gripped him, but they needed to get this over with. Of course it’d be terrifying at first— she’d likely never moved faster than her own two feet could carry her— but he had full confidence that she’d grow used to it and settle soon enough. 
Once they were on the road, Jamie could spare a little more attention for her. She had mercifully  let go of his arm, and both of her hands were now gripping the dashboard in front of her, knuckles white. He let go of the steering wheel with one hand in order to reach out for her. Twining their fingers together, he glanced over and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 
“Ye’re doin’ great, Sassenach,” he told her. 
She didn’t answer for a long moment. When he looked over at her again, she was white as a sheet and staring straight ahead. With a start, he realized that her hand seemed clammy in his. 
“Are ye alright, lass?” he asked in alarm. 
“I feel sick,” she forced out weakly. 
With the expertise of one familiar with motion-sickness, Jamie slammed on the brakes (thank God that the country roads were almost always completely abandoned), grabbed a grocery bag he’d left in the back seat, and shoved it underneath her. 
Her head bowed over it, a curtain of curls falling over her face, and her chest heaved with shaky breaths. But she made no indication that she was about to be sick. 
Of course she wouldn’t throw up, he realized all of a sudden, she didn’t eat. 
Still, it was a good thing he had stopped. Although she wasn’t in danger of losing her lunch, she looked as if she was on the verge of passing out. The puir lass was paler than a ghost. 
Jamie quickly dropped the bag and instead moved his hand to rub soothing circles on her back. 
“Ye’re alright, a leannan,” he told her gently, “puir wee thing. I ken the motion is somethin’ awful.” 
She let out a tiny whimper that broke his heart and made him ready to abandon this foul machine on the side of the road, walk her home, and never return for it. 
Instead of taking hasty action against his car, though, he grabbed his water bottle from the cupholder, poured a bit of water into a cupped hand, and dribbled it over the back of her neck. Then, he gently pressed his wet hand at various spots around her neck and up onto her cheeks. 
“Ye’re doin’ great, mo nighean donn, deep breaths,” he encouraged, his other hand continuing the circles it was making on her back. 
“I’m alright,” she mustered. She managed to raise her head and give him a tremulous smile. To his relief, color had begun to return to her cheeks, and she no longer seemed to be in danger of passing out. 
“Good,” he murmured, “why dinna we take a break and walk about outside for a minute, aye?” 
She shook her head doggedly. “I’m fine, let’s keep going.” 
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Christ, ye are brave,” he chuckled, “ye sure?”
She gave him a nod of assent, and then sat back in her seat, looking like an astronaut waiting for lift off. 
He stifled the urge to ask her again if she was certain. While they could turn around and leave shopping for another day, she’d have to face the reality of cars eventually if she was going to stay in the human world. So, they would continue on their way— even if her suffering was driving a hole in his heart and he wasn’t sure he could live with the knowledge that it was him doing it to her. 
Jamie accelerated very slowly and tried to minimize as many bumps and jostles as he could on a road of this condition. Claire seemed much better this time around, hands clasped together in her lap instead of clutching the dashboard (although her knuckles were still white, he noticed). 
After a few minutes, she even managed to relax a bit. Since she seemed to be doing alright, Jamie took the rest of the drive to Inverness to explain to her what to expect: what stores were, what they would be looking for, etc. Claire didn’t take her eyes off of the road in front of them but gave him a few nods and hums of understanding. 
The little thrift shop he had in mind was in a pedestrian-only part of Inverness, so he parked at the nearest parking lot and steeled himself for the trial of taking Claire through the town. He had every confidence in her ability to handle it, but that still didn’t reduce his desire for her to be a wee cheetie he could tuck inside his coat. 
The second the car was parked, a sigh of relief came from the passenger side. 
“Ye made it, Sassenach,” he congratulated her, turning to her and reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. 
He had meant it to be a quick motion, but she caught his hand and held it on her lap. He could feel a slight tremor in it, and his heart went out to her. 
“I ken it’s scary,” he said softly, “but it’ll be alright. We humans arena so bad, ye’ll see.” 
“If they’re anything like you, I think I’ll love them,” she breathed. 
The words twisted his wame into a mushy mess. Oh lord, did she even know what using the word “love” in relation to him did to his puir heart? 
But he shoved his wayward reaction aside and focused his attention on the brave wee lass getting ready to face her fears. 
“I’ll be right wi’ ye,” he assured, “the whole time.” 
She gave a wordless nod, but still didn’t release his hand from her shaky one. 
“Are ye ready, mo nighean donn?” 
The term of endearment perched on his tongue and in his mind had actually been “mo ghraidh,” but he managed to choke that one off before it left his lips. 
“As I’ll ever be,” she said tremulously, but put on a brave face. 
With one last squeeze, he reluctantly withdrew his hand from hers so he could get out. He quickly made his way around the car to the passenger’s side so he could open her door and offer his hand to her again. 
She took it, squinting out into the daylight, and with that, Sorcha emerged out of the car and into her first experience with the real human world.
***
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myblueeyedbuggers · 3 years
Text
My Boys
Chapter 7
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14
Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes
Word Count: 1780
Warnings: Slow Start, Language, Tiny bit of Fluff
Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change
Hi again, so yesterday definitely didn’t go plan at all, I was caught up in way too much work and by the time I’d finished it all it was 4 in the morning and I had to get up at 6 for college. My apologies for the lack of a chapter yesterday, hopefully this was worth the wait though :) Enjoy Everyone!
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Readers POV
It was sometime in the early morning when Becca same flying into my room, I could feel my mood change from one of complete and utter boredom to one of happiness, I swear down this little girl could manage to make the grim reaper smile. Her black hair bounced behind her as she hurried to climb up the bed, instantly crushing me with a tight hug, “Y/n! I missed you so much! I’m sorry for not coming sooner but Mama and Papa said you needed more time to rest” her bright eyes glossed over as she rushed out her apology.
I actually felt my heart clench at her words, which to be honest was a bit concerning, her little face scrunched up into a frown and I instantly pulled her into a hug, “Sweetie there’s nothing you need to say sorry for, if anything I should be saying sorry for leaving you for so long with those silly boys! I can’t imagine how bad they must have smelled! Oh, my lord I’m feeling faint even thinkin’ about it!”. Instantly the frown on her little face vanished, her giggles echoed in my ear as she fell backwards onto the bed clutching her stomach, my smile was almost wide as Bucky’s ego. Almost.
Once she’d managed to calm down enough, Becca crawled back up the bed and climbed under the covers before cuddling up next to me, my arm instantly wound around the younger girl as I placed a small kiss on her hair and in that moment, I felt at ease, finally complete as the little girl cuddled further into my side.
Mrs Barnes POV (Surprise!)
A gentle smile spread across my face as I watched my girls, both excitedly chatting back and forth about their favourite things, the half-completed scarf forgotten to me as my mind wandered to the talk George and myself had last night. Both of us agreed that we would never be able to pay y/n back for protecting our boys, but we both noticed one particular trait about her, she tended to protect everyone but herself. It was almost as if she valued everyone else’s life above her own, it made me worry about what she’s had to have gone through to value herself at such a low rate, maybe it’s my motherly side coming out but there’s this constant urge to protect her. The knowledge of her not having a family weighed heavily on both my soul and my heart, even thinking about it broke my heart, and that’s when George and I made our decision. We wanted her to be apart of our family, protect her in the same way she tried to protect both our family and our boys, after everything the poor girls been through it’s the very least we could do.
After a while I noticed the room was unusually silent, my head turned towards the girls and my eyes were met with a sight that made me want to weep with joy, both of them had fallen asleep, Y/n’s arms were wound around Becca protectively as the younger girl cuddled closer to y/n’s side. I kept my gaze on the girls, committing the moment to my memory as my heart swelled with delight, a wide smile played on my lips as I picked up the scarf started to work on it determined to give y/n a welcoming gift.
Time Skip
Steve’s POV
“Yeah sure Buck, like I actually believe that!” Bucky was goin’ on about he fought off 10 guys at once in school today, the way he was tellin’ it had me in stiches as he claimed he “knocked em down with the strength of the devil” before finishing the fight with fireworks goin’ off behind him. “I’m bein’ serious Stevie! You shoulda seen their faces when I pulled out my sword and started chasing em…how much of this you belivin’?” he finally stopped his rambling when he glanced at my face, completely blank as I looked at him with my eyebrows raised.
Seconds of silence passed, “You can’t letta a guy be dramatic for one second?!”, I’ll admit I didn’t expect him to fall to the floor and start waving his arms and legs about while cryin’ about me bein’ a spoil sport, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t funny. I was doubled over with laughter, nearly crying as I joined Buck on the floor, the pair of us struggling to breath from laughing so hard.
The sound of a door opening along with an exasperated sigh made us both shut up immediately, glancing up I was met with the sight of Mama Barnes, a small smile on her face as she looked at the both of us expectedly, waitin’ for us to get off the floor. “Normally I would ask both of you what on the name of earth you were doin’ on the floor, but I’ve seen you do some stupider things so at this point I’m not surprised”. Buck shared a look with me before facing his mama, a sheepish grin on his face as he tried to explain why we were acting dumb, Mama just shook her head at us and ushered us inside y/n’s room, tellin’ us to keep quiet.
3rd Person POV
Both boys entered the room, softly shutting the door behind them as they turned around, neither expecting to see the sight before them, Bucky and Steve’s younger sister was curled up next to y/n, both girls had a relaxed, peaceful expression on their faces. The blankets were wrapped around them both, the younger of the two using the older girls chest as a pillow shifting slightly as the older pulled her closer to her side, unconsciously wrapping both the blanket and her arms around her in a bid to keep her warm.
Soft smiles graced the lips of both boys, watching the two girls as they slept peacefully, the blonde-haired boy noticing the older girl shiver a tiny bit from the change in temperature, as quietly as possible he made his way towards them. Carefully, he unwrapped a small part of the blanket from the younger girl and repositioned it over the two of them equally, tucking the edges into the bed frame before glancing behind him at his friend.
The boy with the brown hair hadn’t moved an inch, his entire body refusing to move in case the sight in front of him suddenly disappeared. His blue eyes never left the face of the older girl, taking in her immense beauty was enough to stun him for hours, his gaze roamed over her face in a leisurely way, absorbing how perfect she looked when sleeping. Any attempt to gain his attention failed, his mind too clouded with the image of her, a soft warm feeling settled in his heart, growing stronger with every second he stared at her.
Once the blonde-haired boy realised that he wasn’t gaining the attention of his friend anytime soon, he followed his friends line of sight, letting out a small chuckle as he turned his head towards the boy’s mother, sharing a small knowing smile as she watched her son from the corner of her eye.
Time Skip
Readers POV
The veil of sleep slowly cleared from my mind, hushed voices grabbed my attention as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, my eyes made contact with Mr and Mrs Barnes, the sound of the lads doing somethin’ stupid filled the background. Both of the parents smiled at me, I wanted to sit up but Becca was still asleep, and I couldn’t find it in my heart to disturb her from sleep, “Y/n, sweetheart, the doctor came in while you girls were sleeping, he said that you’ll be able to leave tomorrow after a few more check ups and tests, and we wanted to ask you somethin’.” I felt my head tilt to the side in confusion, maybe it was about the medical bills, I mean a stunt like this couldn’t have been cheap…
“Sweetie, we were wondering if you’d like to join our family, there is nothing in this world we could offer or do to thank you for protecting our family, so we only ask that you let us return the favour and protect you.”
I could feel my jaw drop to the floor, my eyes watered with tears as I nodded my head frantically and pulled them both into a hug, crying into Mrs Barnes’s chest while thanking her over and over again. The bed dipped even more as two more pairs of arms joined the hug, the hole in my soul left as I came to the realisation that I finally had a family to call my own, a sudden shout of excitement broke us all out of the hug as Becca tackled my side, knocking me flat out on my back.
“I FINALLY HAVE A SISTER! YAY! MAMA I HAVE A SISTER!” Becca’s joyful cries made us all laugh, quickly clambering off me she started running ‘round the room, only stoppin’ to do the odd celebration dance. A tap on shoulder distracted me from Becca’s antics, “So how’s it feels to be apart of the Barnes Clan?” Steve’s face met mine with a joyful smile, I not so subtly rolled my eyes at him before bumping my shoulder with his, “Thought I joined the clan the minute your friend over there carried my ass to the front door”.
Steve let out a small snicker as Bucky’s head shot up as he playfully glared at the pair of us, choosing to make his way over while his parents were distracted with Becca, “What was that Doll? From what I remembered I oh so bravely carried you to my home while you pelted with punches and cute little threats” excuse me, CUTE ?! there is nothing cute about me threatening to rip your soul outta your body Barnes!
A cocky smirk appeared on his lips as I narrowed my eyes at him, “you do realise that you’re now stuck with me now Barnes? If I was you I’d be sleeping with one eye open” outta the corner of my eye I saw Steve bring a hand up to his face and cover it while shaking his head, since when did that bugger get sassy?! Instead of taking my threat seriously, Bucky smiles as his puts his arm around me with a shit-eating grin on his face, “You know you love me doll, heck how could ya not look at this face!” now it was my turn to facepalm.
What the hell did I just agree to?!
Things have finally started looking up for the reader! Thanks for Reading :)
Rose xx
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Text
for those of you who wanted to read the like, 4k words/chapter and a half of the “maybe it’s just us” sequel (i titled it “the road from where we been to where we’re going” in case you were curious) i started two years ago and then abandoned, here you go. i did not edit it, so what you see is what you get (not that that’s any different from anything else i’ve ever written in my life ig): 
Chapter 1
You are You
Carol
“I can't change her, she's doing the thing,” Daryl said anxiously over the sound of high-pitched infant cries.
“What thing?” asked Carol. Her body was spent; she couldn't remember the last time she was this tired. She was sore, stitched, and her insides were trying to remember how to take care of one instead of two. From over in the corner, Daryl had their daughter on her back on a desk that was functioning as a makeshift changing table, and from the sounds of it, neither of them were doing that well.
“That flailin’ thing with her arms. She thinks she's fallin’. Shh, shh, baby, it's okay, I ain't gonna drop you, please don't cry.” His voice was so tense and scared, and Carol felt guilty for smiling, thankful his back was to her.
“She's fine, Daryl, why do you think she thinks she's falling?”
“'Cause it's true,” Daryl insisted. “Glenn—there you go, lil’ one, we got that on you, now lemme just figure out all these damn snaps—Glenn told me about it. It's some reflex babies have. When they flail their arms like this it means they think they're fallin’. Sarah even said so, so I know it ain't bullshit—goddamn, why is this thing so hard to snap? Baby, if you stopped kickin’ your legs so much, we'd be done already.”
“You aren't allowed to spend time alone with Glenn anymore,” Carol said, as Daryl finished torturing their child (or was she torturing him?). She took Rose from him and tucked her into the crook of her arm.
Carol hadn't really processed it yet. This baby that had been inside her for the past nine months had been out in the world with them for hours now, and she wasn't convinced it was real.
From the moment she peed on that stick and it glared positive, to as recently as 24 hours ago, Carol hadn't allowed herself to believe that this could possibly end well. She was too old, she figured, too stressed, too downright unlucky. When Daryl told her he wanted to keep the baby, she'd almost been angry; she'd hoped he'd make the hard decision so she wouldn't have to, and when he didn't, she found she couldn't either. How could she look him in the face and say, 'I want to get rid of it,’ when he had so much faith in their ability to do this?
And now they had a baby. In Carol's arms, Rose whimpered, sticking her thumb in her mouth and suckling. 
She looked nothing like Sophia. If Carol had a baby picture of Sophia—which, of course, she didn't—and held it up to Rose, she bet no one in a million years would have ever guessed they were sisters. Everything of Carol's that Sophia had, Rose had the opposite. Sophia had had Carol's eyes; Rose had Daryl's. Sophia had had Ed's nose; Rose had hers. There was nothing familiar about looking at Rose, as Carol had both feared and hoped. She had wondered if meeting her new child would be like seeing a ghost, and she almost wished for it, if only because she wanted to see Sophia again.
But Rose wasn't Sophia, and she made sure to demonstrate that clearly. Sophia had been meek and quiet, even as an infant, but Rose was not remotely shy about letting them know when she was displeased.
Like right now, for example, as her tiny whimpers around her thumb turned into full-blown wails. Daryl tensed beside them on the bed.
“What's wrong?” he asked. He had asked that about every new noise Rose had made since birth. He was so much a new parent that Carol would have found it endearing if she weren't so tired.
Rose had tricked them. Just as exhausted as Carol, she had spent her first few hours on the planet in a deep sleep, lulling them into a sense of calm, even granting Carol a bit of a nap, but the second she woke up, she was ready to make demands.
“She's hungry,” Carol said. She'd attempted to get Rose to nurse earlier, but the baby had trouble latching, and was too tired to try that hard, and she was paying for it now, clearly having woken up with an empty belly. Carol maneuvered herself so she could offer her breast to Rose. She moved Rose's hand out of the way, and tried to get her to seek out Carol on her own, but instead she just cried and brought her thumb back to her mouth.
“You can't eat and suck your thumb at the same time,” Carol said, trying not to get frustrated. 
When Sophia was born, she had rested on Carol's chest, skin-to-skin, and had latched perfectly on her own within the hour, and it had been a precious bonding moment—a precious bonding moment that Rose was adamantly refusing to have, despite her obvious hunger.
“C'mon kid, this ain't a five star restaurant, you don't get to be choosey,” Daryl said, rubbing Rose's back. Rose screamed bloody murder in response.
“It's right there, if you'd stop crying long enough to see it,” Carol said, trying and failing to not think about how Sophia had snuggled in close to her and had let Carol stroke her hand while she nursed. She had needed her mother right away, so why was Rose fighting her?
After several more minutes of this, Carol was getting overwhelmed. She thrust Rose at Daryl, who took her instinctively, and said, “Take her, please just take her, I need a minute.” She pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes and willed herself not to cry.
“Hey, you okay?” Daryl asked, adjusting Rose in his arms so that he could lean over and put a hand on Carol's shoulder. 
“Fine, I'm just tired and wish she'd eat,” Carol said, not uncovering her eyes.
“It's just new to her, she'll get the hang of it,” Daryl insisted. Carol dropped her hands and, looking at him helplessly, said,
“It was never hard with Sophia,” and maybe it was months worth of worry coming to a head, maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was hormones and frustration, or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to pretend like this wasn't bringing all her grief back to surface, but Carol burst into tears; genuine tears, big, wet, and rolling down her face, and poor Daryl, bless him, was caught between his daughter and his girlfriend, as they both sobbed inconsolably.
“Shit,” Carol heard Daryl mutter. He pulled her to him, and she let him. He wrapped an arm around her tight, and allowed her to bury her face in his shoulder and bawl. 
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carol said over and over, voice muffled. She wasn't sure if she was apologizing to Daryl for breaking down, or to Rose for being so shithouse at mothering already.
Daryl was muttering words of encouragement to her, while also trying to shush the fussing baby. Through her tears, Carol heard the door to the Warden's office open and close.
“Everything okay in here?” came Sarah's voice. What a stupid question, thought Carol. Yeah, we're peachy; the baby and I are just sobbing for fun! Ridiculous.
“We're fine,” said Daryl, as Carol tried to get control of herself, taking in deep breaths, but not lifting her head. “Lil’ one is havin’ trouble eating, and Carol's a bit... overwhelmed.”
“Do you need help getting her to latch?” Sarah asked.
“I know how to breastfeed, she just won't do it,” Carol snapped into Daryl's shoulder, harsher than she intended.
“Alright,” Sarah said calmly. “Do you want me to take Rose for a minute to give you a chance to breathe?”
“No,” Daryl said, sounding as harsh as Carol had. She wasn't surprised—he had caught the baby when she was born, and had hardly put her down since. Carol could tell he was reluctant to give her up even when he was passing Rose to her. His protectiveness had gone into overdrive the moment he and Rose met.
“Well,” Sarah said, sounding uncertain. “You know where to find me if you need me. Your friends keep asking for updates, by the way. I'll try and keep them away for a while longer.”
Daryl grunted something in response, and Carol clung to him, hiccuping, but not as hysterical. She waited until Sarah's footsteps went towards the door and she left the room before lifting her head up to look at Daryl.
“Hey,” he said quietly, looking at her with concern. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”
Not especially. What she wanted was to feed her daughter and then sleep for fourteen hours.
“Gotta deal with the baby,” she said.
“She ain't goin’ nowhere,” Daryl said, shifting so he could bounce Rose gently. She continued to cry, and Carol's body physically reacted to the sound, desperately aching to feed her. Carol shook her head.
“I'm just tired and got frustrated,” Carol said dismissively.
“Nah, it's more than that,” Daryl countered. “That was the first time you've said her name.”
Carol's lower lip trembled dangerously. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Of course Daryl would see right through her like glass. 
“I feel so guilty,” she said, wincing at the crack in her watery voice. “I told myself I'd treat her like her own person, and already I'm making comparisons. No wonder she doesn't want me. But I don't know how to stop thinking about Sophia.” She let out a singular sob, and Daryl reached out and wiped a tear from her face 
“Thinkin’ ‘bout Sophia don’t mean you don't love Rose,” he told her gently. “You miss your little girl, and you're exhausted, and it's bringin’ it all back up. Anyone would lose their shit over it, so don't go feelin’ guilty.”
Carol swallowed hard. “I don't get to lose my shit, I have to be her mother.”
“You lose your shit when you need to. I'm here to pick up the slack.”
“Yeah, well, you gonna breastfeed her, too?” It came out more irritable than joking, but Daryl smiled anyway.
“Nah,” he said. “Imma help you do it, though.” He handed Rose over. Carol was reluctant, not wanting to fail again, but Daryl was calm, and it made her calmer. She lowered the collar of her gown and presented her breast to her screaming daughter once more.
“That damn thumb. Just do that here and you'd be golden,” Carol mumbled.
“You're all tense,” Daryl said. “She don't know nothin’ about what you've lost, and she don't feel any resentment, but she can tell her momma's freaking out and it's freaking her out.”
“Since when are you a lactation consultant?”
“I dunno what that means.”
“When did you become an expert on getting babies to nurse?”
“I ain't an expert in anything havin’ to do with babies, but when you tense up, so does she. Look—her shoulders are all drawn up to her neck. She wasn't doin’ that when she was cryin’ earlier. You're her momma and she can feel it when you're unhappy, so we gotta get you calmer.”
An odd mix of affection and envy washed over Carol. Daryl observed and knew the people he loved so intrinsically that he was already picking up mannerisms on a person who hadn't been alive even a full day yet. Meanwhile, Carol couldn't even get her to do the one thing Rose needed her exclusively for.
“How?” Carol asked.
“Hum somethin’,” Daryl said with certainty. Carol furrowed her brow.
“Why?”
“You said all the time that whenever there was music she'd go batshit in there. Maybe she likes music.”
“Why don't you hum something then?”
“I don't do music. 'Sides, you're the one she needs right now.”
This was stupid, Carol decided, and Rose seemed to agree, yelling at her, absolutely red in the face. Carol sighed, and hummed the first thing that came to mind. After a few lines, Daryl huffed a breath of puzzled laughter.
“Is that Horse with No Name?” he asked. “Some lullaby.”
“It was on the CD you were playing on that old stereo when you were out skinning those rabbits the other day,” Carol said defensively. “It's been stuck in my head for ages.”
“Don't let me stop you.”
“Now I'm embarrassed.”
“Nah, don't be, look,” he nodded down at Rose. “She's calmin’ down. I mean, she's still pissed as all get out, but she's settling down. 'Sides, I like that song.”
“The others are gonna think we're torturing her.”
“Tell 'em it was me.”
“Tell them you were the one making her cry, or that you were the one crying?”
Daryl snorted. “Whatever makes you feel better.”
Carol smiled a little, feeling lighter. She leaned back against Daryl and continued to hum. Rose's screams fell to cries which fell to whimpers. She opened her big, blue eyes and sought out the sound of the music.
“Oh!” Carol startled a minute later, when Rose finally found her breast and latched on. She turned to Daryl in awe. “How'd you know that would work?”
Daryl shrugged.
“I know her,” he said simply. “You do, too, you just got other shit to deal with that makes it harder. Don't you worry, though, I still don't know half the shit I should. You'll be helpin’ me next.”
“That's how it's supposed to be, I think,” Carol said quietly, the room suddenly unfamiliar without the ringing of Rose’s cries. “A partnership. I never had that before.” She ran a hand over the top of Rose's soft head, which was covered in thin, red hair. Now that she accepted it, the baby was now eating like she was famished, and Carol couldn't help but laugh.
“You think she's gonna be this stubborn forever?” Daryl asked.
“You're the one who knows her, you tell me.”
“Nah,” Daryl said, grinning. “She won't be this stubborn. Being part me and part you? She's only gonna get worse.”
*
Daryl was finally asleep. Carol was beginning to think he was going to try and just stay up forever, for fear of missing a single moment of Rose's life, and frankly, if anyone could pull that off, it'd be him, but alas, it seemed his body finally got the better of him. He was curled on his side, breathing lightly though his mouth, one hand touching Carol's thigh, as though, even in sleep, he had to make sure she and Rose were within reach. She'd have to address that eventually, before his protectiveness got smothering, but for now she appreciated it. It felt nice to be so deeply loved.
Unlike her father, Rose was not asleep, but she wasn't fussing, either. She was alert in Carol's arms, taking it all in. Carol watched her, trying to see the things Daryl saw. Mostly, she just thought about how difficult it was gonna be to wean her from thumb sucking, since Rose seemed to have some magnetic attachment to the damn thing.
It hurt more than she wanted to admit, having Rose and not having Sophia, and as much as Daryl tried to tell her otherwise, she felt crushing guilt, because Rose didn't deserve to live in the shadow of a ghost. Carol loved this new little girl so much. She was bright-eyed and beautiful, and Carol could see the subtle hints of Daryl in her facial expressions already, and that was both heartwarming and hilarious, to see a newborn look so grumpy.
But Sophia refused to leave Carol alone—she lingered, haunting her with memories of what she'd been and what she could have become. 
Carol knew Sophia hadn't been built for this world, and she was confident Rose could survive it, because this was her world; it was the only thing she would know. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though. If anything, it only made the cuts go deeper still.
“I'm gonna tell you my biggest secret right now so we start this relationship out with all the cards on the table, okay?” Carol whispered to Rose. Rose's eyes darted towards her, and watched as though she were truly paying attention. Carol said, “I'm a little broken, and I'm gonna make mistakes. 
“You had a sister, and a part of me is always gonna be buried with her, but the rest of my heart is all yours. I don't want you to ever think I love you less, or wish you were her, because I don't, and I won't. I want you for exactly the person you are. But sweetheart, I'm gonna hurt sometimes, and I won't always be able to be the mother I want to be, but in those moments, you can't ever think it's because of you. You're the one who's always going to bring me back. You and your father, you're everything.
“I've made bad choices—far too many—but you are not one of them, Rose. You were a hard decision I will never regret. You are wanted, you are loved, and most importantly, you are you, and don't ever think I would change that for the world.”
Carol held a finger to Rose's free hand, and a tiny fist wrapped around it. They locked eyes, blue on blue, and Carol finally saw her new daughter for the very first time.
***
Chapter 2
Want For Nothing
Daryl
Cooing. There was so much cooing. Everybody was fucking cooing, and they were passing Rose back and forth like a football, and Daryl was going to lose his mind.
“Relax,” Carol said in his ear. He scowled. By the time dawn came, the two of them could no longer delay the inevitable—their family was demanding to meet the newest addition. Which, sure, fine, whatever, but did that mean they all had to hold her? Daryl's arms felt unbearably empty as he watched Glenn with suspicion while he rocked Rose to-and-fro.
“She's got your grouchy face look down pat,” Glenn said. “Good to know your newborn daughter is just as impressed by me as you are.”
That made Daryl feel a little better.
“I think she looks like Carol,” Maggie said, taking Rose from Glenn and cradling her. “In the nose and mouth, at least. Those are definitely Daryl's eyes.”
“I can't believe she's a ginger,” Beth giggled, peering over her sister's shoulder.
“How are you feeling, Carol?” asked Michonne.
“Exhausted,” she said with a tired smile. “But happy.”
“Sarah said the birth went perfectly; didn't need me at all,” Hershel said.
“All things considered, it couldn't have gone better,” Carol agreed. “But don't ask me about it until I've had a bit of time to repress the memory of the pain.”
“I didn't make it to five centimeters before I was screaming for drugs, I’m impressed,” said Michonne.
“How's it feel to be a dad, Daryl?” Rick asked.
It was the best thing he'd ever been, and he'd really like to have his daughter back so he could get back to parenting, thank you very much.
“‘S good,” he mumbled.
“Don’t let him fool you. He held a piss in for two hours because he didn't want to leave her. Did you know he was the one who caught her? I'm sure he's about to have an aneurysm from you all holding her, but is too polite to say,” Carol said, smiling sweetly at him.
“Ain't too polite. You told me I wasn't allowed to yell at nobody for touching her.”
“I was trying to keep that fact between us.”
“Mm.”
“Should we give her back now?” asked Maggie, grinning.
“Yes,” said Daryl.
“No, you haven't all had a chance yet. Michonne? Carl?”
“We ain't letting Carl hold her, he's just a kid.”
“Daryl,” Carol said flatly. “He holds Judith all the time.”
“I feel sorry for anything, walker or otherwise, that tries to threaten this kid,” Glenn said, running a hand over Rose's soft head. “Daryl is so possessive he'd rip them so many new assholes until there was nothing left.”
He was not wrong.
Daryl blew a thin breath of air through tight lips as Rose was handed over to Carl. It was a testament to how much he loved Carol that he hadn't already leapt up from the bed and stolen his child back.
“If looks could kill, you'd be obliterated right now,” Glenn told Carl. Carl glanced up at Daryl and blanched. Daryl, not realizing quite how murderous he must look, tried to rearrange his face into something in the neighborhood of encouraging. More than likely he just looked pained, but that was the best they were gonna get.
“Do you think Rose and Judith will get along?” asked Carl. He held his index finger out and Rose wrapped her entire tiny hand around it. Daryl's lip twitched up, just the tiniest bit, in spite of himself.
“They gotta, or it's gonna be real exhausting for them to live together,” he said. 
“I bet they'll be best friends,” Michonne said. 
“You and Glenn should have a baby,” Beth said to Maggie with a shit-eating grin. “Then they'd all be close together in age.”
“Maybe,” Maggie said, glancing at her father, who appeared a little conflicted, but didn't object.
“Judith and Rose would probably team up and pick on our kid,” Glenn said. That actually made Daryl snort. Glenn glared at him. Daryl just shrugged.
“Okay, let me see her before Mr. Grouchy over there banishes us,” said Michonne, taking her turn. She smiled a sad sort of smile at Rose. It was the same smile Daryl had seen both her and Carol make at Asskicker. It was a smile that read of bittersweetness; of love and loss at the same time. 
Daryl had been a parent for roughly a day, give or take, and already he couldn't fathom the idea of losing that baby. He'd known Carol had hurt when Sophia died, and he could hear the pain in Michonne's voice whenever she mentioned her lost child, but he never really understood how deep that suffering must go. Just the mere thought of losing Rose gutted him—how did these two women get up every day with holes that big?
Rose began to wriggle around in Michonne's arms, and started to fuss a little, which Daryl was quickly learning was her way of warning them she was about to get mad. Despite who her parents were, that kid had no qualms about letting everyone know how she was feeling, loudly and with gusto.
“Sounds like she's telling us it's time to let her be with mom and dad,” Michonne said over Rose's cautionary whimpers. She handed her over to Daryl, who felt instant relief as soon as Rose was in his arms again.
“She's hungry,” Carol said apologetically. “She had trouble eating there at the beginning, but now that she's got the hang of it she acts like she's famished.”
“We'll give you some privacy, then,” said Rick, ushering everyone towards the door.
“We'll probably go back to our cell later tonight. We've just been too tired to bother,” Carol explained.
“We understand,” Maggie told her.
“Congrats, you guys,” said Glenn.
They all said their goodbyes, with Carol saying them back, but Daryl was distracted. Rose was staring up at him with a pouty lower lip, and in that instant the literal only thing he wanted was to make her happy again.
“You gotta feed her so she stops looking at me like that,” Daryl said to Carol before the door to the office had even been fully closed.
“Like what?” Carol asked, reaching out to take the baby, and pulling out her breast in a way that already seemed habitual.
“Sad.”
“She's not sad, she's just hungry,” Carol said with a light laugh, propping Rose up on a nursing pillow Daryl had gotten back on that run to the birth center.
“She cries about it, though.”
“Daryl. Babies cry about everything. It's how they communicate.”
He knew that, of course, but he didn't like it. If it were up to him, Rose would never want for anything. He wanted to anticipate her every need so she never felt uncomfortable or scared or sad. He wanted her to be happy.
What a horrifying thought.
Daryl anticipated his role as a parent to be about providing—providing food, shelter, safety—but he never once entertained the idea that it would be up to him to provide his daughter with happiness.
“I don't know how to make her happy when everything except you and her is bullshit,” he said. Carol frowned at him.
“Daryl, I told you she's fine, she just needs—”
“I don't mean right now,” Daryl interrupted. “I mean for the rest of her life, how do I give her what she deserves? Even if the world weren't the way it is, I ain't never been happy. Not before her; before you.”
Poor Carol, thought Daryl, having to deal with him running his mouth over abstract fears so soon after walking barefoot through the fires of Hell to bring an entire human being to life. To her credit, she spared him of exasperation. As always, she showered him with kindness he didn't feel entitled to. She said,
“No one is happy all the time. If they were, then happiness would have no meaning. There are going to be times when you're going to have to do the worst thing you can imagine.”
“What's that?” Daryl asked, anxiety mounting.
“Sometimes, you're going to have to let her be unhappy.” 
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the-fiction-witch · 4 years
Text
Darlin’
TV SHOW GODLESS COUPLE: WHITEY WINN X READER RATING: SWEET + SEXY + SAD
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The sweet as sugar voice across the town.
The cluttering of horse shoes on the dirt.
The flutterin' of Blue cotton in the wind.
The whine of Violin strings.
The snap of bow strings.
Her little songs sung in the darkness.
The smell of her desert flowers in the garden.
The smell of sage and other herbs.
The smell Her Quail roast.
She'd shoot it in the mornin', have it plucked and cleaned before I went to work, it would roast all day and be just finished when I got home.
Her knitting needles set on every surface.
Her ribbons tied around things she would use often.
I can recall, the first moment I saw her.
She was the sweetest thing I had ever known.
She was dancin', not old enough to go in the La Belle bar, so she stood out in the dirt of the road, dancing to the music ya could hear blaring from within. Her black riding boots against the dust, stockings full of holes, her little blue cotton dress dirty around the edge, her white slightly greyed apron with two pockets either side of her skirt. she had sewn daises on the pockets, and ivy leaves across the top and skirt, A Large Bow tied her apron at the back. she had her sweet almost Y/h/c hair in curls that bounced on her shoulders as she danced, she had ribbons in her hair, bright white ribbons that kept her curls somewhat controlled a bow at the back of her head like her apron strings.
And I remember thinkin', That she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
After many weeks of nervousness and a little poking from Mary Agnes, I finally spoke to her and the moment I did... I loved her.
"Hello" she smiled
"Hi, uhhh I umm hi" I blushed
Her name was y/n.
only Two years younger then me, but you'd never tell.
she was mature for her age, more so when I was.
She was the sweetest little thing I had ever met.
She wouldn't hurt a fly and even if she did she would make sure they wouldn't suffer.
We would go on little dates after I was done in the office, walking around town.
We would go for picnics on the hill.
We would go riding down to the river together.
We'd race our horses across the open desert.
I would take her down to the river and teach her trick shots with my guns, and she'd show me tricks with her bow and arrows.
We would sometimes kiss cuddled up in the hay of the stables.
"Ummmmm uummmmmm" I groaned slightly my arms around her waist as we laid in the stables sat up on a huge pile of hay, her arms around my neck as we kissed I pulled her closer and closer as we kissed the two of us at times literally having a roll in the hay
"whitey!" she gasped "what are you doing with your hands up my dress?" she argued noticing my hands half way up her skirt
"Uhhhh.... fixing your stockings" I lied
"Course you where" she giggled pulling me back to kissing her.
I loved her, more then words could explain.
by some magic she loved me too,
We where married in the half finished church one sunny Saturday in June,  
she was the most perfect wife I could ever dream of,
she would come visit me at work and bring me cookies she would bake for me.
She would have a nice toasty warm bath waiting for me when I got home from work,
Dinner would be cooking on the stove ready for as soon as I was done with my bath,
and a cuddle after dinner in our bed together until we fall asleep.
she was my darlin', My sweet wifey, My angel.
I'd do anything she asked of me,
I'd worship her, adore her, in all the little ways I could.
giving her kisses,
holding her hand,
telling her at any time I could get out the words that I loved her.
I sat one night watching her as she sat on the bed knitting, in her little white nightie, ribbons still in her hair where she hadn't untied them yet. she sat up against the headboard, the blankets tucks up tight to her body, I sat on the chair by the fire watching the candlelight flicker across her sweet face as she worked, her tongue slightly sticking out her mouth slightly as she worked.
"You're staring Mr winn" she smiled playfully looking up at me
"Am I now?"
"It's rude"
"Is it now?"
"Is there something you wanted?"
"... You are the most beautiful creature in the world"
"So you say whitey, I rather think your going blind like bill"
"I'm not goin' blind y/n, I think you're beautiful"
"well, That's your opinion"
"It is, Darlin'?"
"Yes whitey?"
"Ya know what I want?"
"A Million dollars I suppose" she smiled as she knits making me laugh
"No," I smiled "A little curly Y/c/h girl"
"Would you now?" she smiled and I nodded "Then I shall do my very best"
I finished up at work today, getting my jacket from the hook by the door I slipped it on as I headed out the office going down the little steps and though the dirt and dust of the streets heading back to the little house, as soon as I got close enough to smell the sweet plants in the garden, the door opened and little Eliza ran out the house in her little light blue dress her sweet y/h/c curls bouncing as she ran "Daddy!" she giggled as she jumped into my arms
"Hey little one" I smiled putting her on my hip giving her head a kiss fixing her little ribbons
"I missed you daddy"
"I missed you too little one" I told her heading inside the house, I went in and the moment I did Arthur latched onto my leg "Oh. Hey little guy," I laughed patting his hair, putting Eliza down
"They missed there daddy" Maggie says as she fiddled with her gun
"Yeah, I missed them too" I smiled letting them run off and play
"How you doing?"
"Uhh... yeah. Okay" I lied "I uhh I'm sorry Maggie I uhh I need to go see y/n" I told her
"Go on, I'll keep an eye on them for you" she says
I nodded and headed back out taking my horse and heading down towards the river where the tree was growing. I climbed off my horse tying it up by the river and going over to the tree "Hi darlin', I can't help thinking about ya, whenever I'm on my own I just... I feel like I can't help thinkin' about ya, sometimes when I'm all on my own I swear your still with me,... I miss everythin' about you, all the little things you used to do, I missed your food, your voice, your perfume, everythin', I adore our little ones darlin' but....... Sometimes I wish I had you instead of them." I sniffled moving and brushing some dust and dirt off her stone
'Y/n Winn, Beloved Wife and mother,'
"Not a night goes by I don't dream about ya y/n. My sweet darlin'. Arthur's doing well at school, Kallie says he's the best in his class, Eliza misses you, she's always following me to work and all. I don't think she likes being on her own too long, even though she has her brother. I can't help missing ya when I see them, Eliza... she's, she looks just like you, she even ties her ribbons the same way you used to." I explained to her moving and resting my head on her stone "I... I'd give anythin' to have ya back darlin'"
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thebrochtuarachs · 4 years
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To Begin Again, Chapter 11: “Riding”
A/N: I know it's been a while since I updated this story but I hope you like this short little chapter. :) It's been fun revisiting this story and I just love this AU of Jamie and Claire. It’s been a while since I wrote so apologies in advance and as always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. Hope you're staying safe in this pandemic. Love always, M
This chapter is dedicated to @samncait4ever​. 🧡 Thank you for being a wonderful friend and fandom ally. Rest in Peace. <3 
AO3 / CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10
XXXX
Jamie and Claire spent the next two days rekindling with each other inside the laird's room, only bothering to leave the chambers once to grab food from the kitchen that will last them for days.
They flitted through talking, eating, coming together, and sleeping ( not particularly in that order ) until they’ve reached another pause in what has been a blissful 2 days.  
"Jamie," Claire said softly, a hand caressing the back of his head, "I don't think I've ever been so happy." Jamie rolled to one side, shifting his weight carefully so as not to squash his wife, and lifted himself to lie face-to-face with Claire.
"Nor me, my Sassenach," he said, and kissed her lightly, but lingering, so that she had time just to close her lips in a tiny bite on the fullness of his lower lip. "It's no just the bedding, ye ken," he said, drawing back a little at last. His eyes looked down at Claire, a soft deep blue like the warm tropic sea.
"No," Claire said, touching his cheek. "It isn't."
"To have ye with me again -to talk wi' you -to know I can say anything, not guard my words or hide my thoughts...God, Sassenach," he said, "the Lord knows I am lust-crazed as a lad, and I canna keep my hands from you-or anything else-" he added, wryly, "but I would count that all well lost, had I no more than the pleasure of havin' ye by me, and to tell ye all my heart."
Claire’s heart ached and soared with Jamie’s confession, much more to the fact that his sentiments echo to hers so strongly.
“So tell me all yer heart” Jamie said, “We’ve got time now”
Claire gave a small chuckle but moved to settle a bit more to Jamie’s side. "It was lonely without you," she whispered. "So lonely." She need not say more.
“Do ye regret it?” he asked, not really meaning to dampen their high but a question that came naturally in the conversation.
Claire didn’t even think about not answering but owed it to her and Jamie’s newfound strength to bring up these kinds of conversation in their reunion.
“The time we lost, yes. Brianna, no - definitely not.” She gave him a wry smile and continued. “There are so many what-ifs, the things we dreamed about happening, the future we planned… a part of me wonders what our life would be like if we stayed in the 18th century, raised Bree in that time with Jenny and Ian.”
“Aye, I do ken what yer saying. I spent a lot of time in the cave thinkin’ about ye and the bairn and what she’d look like, how ye’ll be as the lady of the house, something of the like’
Claire glanced at the window where the light was strong through the blinds, telling us that it was probably mid to past noon.
“Jamie, as much as I’d like to stay here another day, Bree’s coming in the evening and we need to get up and put our clothes on at some point.”
Knowing full well that Jamie won’t be the first to comply, Claire reluctantly got up and rummaged through the pile of discarded clothes on the floor to look for some undergarments and pants. Jamie was still not moving, staring at her with hooded eyes she knew so well but she would not budge as well.
“Oh, come on, get up!” She said laughingly as she pulled the blanket off Jamie’s body forcing him to groan in the cold. “There’s plenty more to see around! care for a stroll with me?”
“With ye, anywhere, Sassenach.”
-
Bree’s last class for the day cancelled allowing her to travel up to Lallybroch earlier than scheduled. Her parents' directions were fairly easy to follow and now, she found herself on the rough path towards a 3-story building that was meant to be her home.
She saw every detail as told by her mother - the arch that bore the Fraser emblem at the top, the handsome three-story manor of harled white, windows outlined in the natural gray stone, a high slate roof with multiple chimney’s and several smaller whitewashed buildings clustered about.
She took it all in and expected to feel all the history to overwhelm her but for some strange reason, it brought her a sense of peace and belonging.
She parked her car and proceeded to knock on the front door. After three tries and no answer, she decided to explore the backyard and found out why her knocks and calls were unanswered.
Over the horizon, Brianna saw two horses racing one another in the open field, the competition clearly fierce.
“You’ve lost your touch on the horse, Sassenach” Jamie called, looking briefly behind him to watch Claire.
Claire commanded her horse to a faster speed, easily surpassing Jamie, calling him out “Sorry, you were saying?” she laughed. “Race you to the stables!”
With her headstart, Claire ran out Jamie and won the race.
Once she dismounted her horse and led her white horse to her stable for some food and water while Jamie followed suit, dismounting from his black stallion.
“I should’ve known you were holding back from me, Sassenach.” Jamie said, walking towards her as she closed the door to her horse’s stables.
“Well, if last night was any indication, you shouldn’t have doubted that” Claire replied, allowing herself to be trapped as Jamie placed both his hands on the stable door, blocking her way.
"I thought you'd be a little sore but I seem to be mistaken" Jamie teased, leaning in for a kiss until -
“Mama! I’m surprised that you can ride...” Brianna began her question “... a horse!”
“Bree! You’re here! I thought you won’t arrive till nighttime” Claire pulled away from Jamie’s arrest and went to greet their daughter.
“Yeah, my last class got cancelled. Roger and Mrs. Graham will come in a couple of days.” she explained. “Hi, Da” Bree proceeded to give Jamie a brief hug as well.
“Well, it’s almost lunch, I think we have pork chops we can easily deep fry.”
“Sounds good.”
The trio walked back to the house where Claire proceeded to the fridge and told Jamie and Bree where everything else in the kitchen are.
“So, tell me about the house” Bree asked as they prepared their food.
Claire and Jamie proceeded to exchange stories, flitting between when Jamie’s father built it, to stories of the Fraser children being born in the house,  to when they stayed there for a couple of months after they got married, how Jenny and Ian kept it in the family through the challenging years in the past and how Claire purchased and renovated to what it is now.
“It’s a rather large piece of land, that’s why we need the horses.” Claire finished the story.
“How’d you learn?” Bree asked.
“Well, you know my stories with Uncle Lamb and how we traveled to archaeological sites when I was younger. I had to learn pretty quickly how to ride. And then, when I met your Da, he was a soldier and a stable boy, taking care of the horses, so I got to spend a lot of time watching him train the young kids in the castle” Claire explained.
“Do ye know how to ride, Brianna?” Jamie asked as they fixed the table.
“Uhm, no.”
“I can teach ye! If ye want, of course.” Jamie stammered, hoping he did not push his limits.
“Yes! I would love to.” Bree exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to try but never got the chance.”
“Why not? I thought Boston had good facilities for horseback riding?” Jamie asked. Bree and Claire exchanged glances but came out with it.
“Frank and I were either too busy with the university or the hospital so we never really got to take Bree out to spontaneous weekend trips.” Claire began to explain.
“Our trips are planned months in advance so everyone is free. We mostly went to historical sites or the beach for maximum relaxation but adventures like these didn’t happen often.” Bree followed.
Jamie looked unsure how to proceed based on their stories as it seemed half fun. Claire and Bree picked up on it and decided to continue on baby steps when it comes to telling Jamie details of their life the past 20 years.
“Maybe you can start teaching Bree how to ride later after lunch and we show her around the house” Claire pitched.
“Sounds like a plan!” Brianna agreed with a clap.
They proceeded on eating their pork chops while continuing with exchanging stories about Lallybroch. After lunch, they showed Bree to her room while they all freshened up and took a short nap.
Around 4:00 in the afternoon, they all went back to stables where Jamie introduced Bree to one of the mares, Jilly, gave a little lecture and then let her mount up. Claire was content watching on the side with a basket full of snacks for the afternoon.
“Alright, now, just try and be comfortable on the horse. Sit straight and relax. You know when they say that horses smell fear, it’s true” Jamie said to Bree. “Okay, I’m going to take you on a short walk around.” Brianna nodded and gently held on the reins.
Jamie took the horse for a walk around an open lawn and Brianna pretty quickly caught up with the rhythm. After 5 trots, Jamie put the horse on a gallop as a challenge and his daughter ran with it excellently.
“This is fun!” Bree called out to Claire.
“Wait till you dismount it then let me know again.” Claire joked. “But you’re doing great, sweetheart!”
After two hours on and off the horse, night was falling in and they decided to call it a day.
“I’ll go ahead and start dinner, hope you like carbonara. You two, take care of things around here.” Claire declared.
“I’ll walk her to the stables.” Brianna insisted and took the reins from her Da and walked Jilly back to the stables.
“I’ll follow you in a minute, Bree” Jamie said as Claire went towards him for a snuggle as they watched their daughter walk ahead.
“She’s a natural, Jamie” Claire whispered. “Just like her father”
“Don’t make me cry, Claire. But yes, she is” Jamie pulled Claire tighter and gave her a light kiss in the hair. “I always imagined how teaching and taking our children out on a horse would look like. Now, I don’t have to.”
“Aww, darling. It truly has been the best days and I know there is more to come.” Claire lifted her head and gave Jamie a quick kiss. “Now, go and teach our daughter how to rub down a horse and I’ll get dinner started.”
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publickoccurances · 4 years
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Female companions react to Sole breaking up with them out of the Blue: Part 2 ‘The Resolve’
Cait: It had been half a year since Cait and Sole had their breakup. Neither party seemed to have dealt with it well. But they went their seperate ways and they stuck to their guns. They were over. That was that.
Well. For six months maybe. See neither of them actually wanted to be apart. But they were both too stubborn to make first contact to figure things out.
“Excuse me! Hey! You!” A drifter called out to Sole as they were just walking into Goodneighbour.
Sole looked at the stranger, raising an eyebrow. “You need something?”
The drifter look relieved. Very relieved. “God... I hope I’ve got the right person.” They muttered to themself. “Look there’s a lady in The Third Rail looking for you. She told me if I didn’t get you to go see her she was gonna beat me to a pulp.
Sole was just getting even more confused. Who on Earth was looking for a them. “Whats her name?” Sole wasn’t stupid. They weren’t just about to walk into a trap.
“I don’t know pal- look shes Irish, red hair, very fucking aggressive.” They shook their head. “Look I’m done. She’s insane. Just go talk to her so she’ll get off my back.”
Of course it would be Cait looking for them. Who else would threaten a drifter just to get their attention. Looks like they’d arrived at Goodneighbour at just the right time.
....................
Cait took another swig of her drink as stared at the door. She’d been hanging out in Goodneighbour for about a week now. Trying to bully drifters into getting Sole to come talk to her. She felt pathetic that she couldn’t go find them herself.
She almost couldn’t believe her eyes when that familiar face walking into the bar. “Hail fecking Mary! I didn’t think ye’d actually come.”
Sole walked over to her, arms crossed against their chest. “Why are you telling people you’re gonna batter them if I didn’t come talk to you.”
Cait chuckled, taking another sip. She was clearly drunk. Hell. She’d spent the last six months drunk. “Because I knew it’d be the quickest way to get ye arse in here.”
Sole took a seat at the table she was sat at, sighing and shaking their head. “Cait.... you’re pissed.”
“No fecking shit... I’m in a pub aren’t I? What was ye expecting me to be?” She rolled her eyes. She hadn’t asked after Sole for them to just come in here and give her a lecture.
“Look Cait. Just tell me what you need-.”
Cait shook her head. “No. No I don’t need anything, alright?” She suddenly looked very serious. After the way Sole had walked out on her she had decided then and there to never rely on someone again. She wasn’t making that mistake yet another time.
“I just wanted to see ye again, okay?”
Sole nodded slowly. Truth was, they had wanted to see her too. They reached out for her drink, taking a sip from it for themself. “Okay... well here I am.”
“Here ye’ are.” Cait nodded slowly, slight smile on her lips. “I’d been thinkin’ bout what ye said.” She began, fingers tapping against the table. Her knuckles were bloodied and bruised, she’d clearly been in a few fights lately.
“Cait- about that... I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have spoke to you like that.” Sole mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their head.
Cait shook her head, a grin spread across her lips much to Sole’s surprise. “No... no apologising. Because I’ve been thinkin’ bout it. And you were right.”
Sole looked shocked. Raising an eyebrow they took another sip. Maybe they needed to be drunk as well to understand what she was going on about. “I was right?”
She nodded her head. “That’s what I just said isnt it? But I’ve been thinking. And truth is love... I were using you too.” Cait knew she probably wasn’t making much sense now. So she sat up a little straighter, as though that was going to help her compose herself. “Ye were using me to make yerself feel good again- and I was using ye’ for the same reason.”
Sole nodded slowly. Okay, so they had admitted they were using each other for the entirety of their relationship. “So? That’s that. We’re good. No more bad blood?”
Cait let out a frustrated sigh, running her fingers through her red hair. “For the love of god... ye really don’t get it?”
“No Cait... I don’t get it.”
“That’s what love is!” She exclaimed, as though it was some giant realisation she had just recently had. “Well- part of it. Using each other to make ourselves happy... being there for each other to lean on... healing.”
Sole felt their heart rate speed up a bit. She was talking love now. She was talking about love and about them. This was certainly a development.
Sole managed a slight smile. “Cait- are you saying you love me?”
Cait rolled her eyes, punching Sole’s shoulder gently. “I’m saying ye’ was an idiot to leave me because what ye’ thought was unhealthy... was healthy.”
“Yeah?” Sole murmured, watching her carefully. “Think you can forgive me?”
Cait leaned back in her seat, shrugging her shoulders, but it was clear she was just playing a little hard to get. “Aye well, we’ll see. Ye’ve got six month of making up to do. So best start by buying me another drink.”
Curie: Curie sighed softly as she watched the door of her lab. Sole was due back today with some supplies she had asked them to get for her. They’d stayed friends after the break up. Well Curie hadn’t really had much choice. While Sole was breaking up with her she hadn’t realised what was happening until it was too late. But there was no point in dwelling on that now. They had stayed friends and the occasional work partners. That was better than nothing, no?
“Curie?!” A voice called from outside the door, and Curie recognised it immediately.
See sometimes she would be a bit petty. Whether it was pretending she didn’t hear Sole sometimes, or whether she was a little rougher when administering stimpacks. It was a little outlet for her. She was impressed because it was a very human way to deal with things.
“Curie... the door!” The voiced called out again.
Curie sighed and finally stood, moving over to open it. “Ah mademoiselle/monsieur!” She pretended to be surprised. “I did not hear you calling.... come in.”
Sole walked into the lab, placing the heavy boxes they had been carrying down on the floor. “Christ... they were heavy.” They puffed, taking a moment to catch their breath.
“Ah yes, sometimes I forget that weight is a factor when you bring me supplies.” Curie lied. That was nother new thing that had happened since the break up, she found herself able to lie.
“Next time I think you may be best hiring a caravan crew.” Sole half joked, taking a seat at the desk.
They had a feeling that sometimes Curie was playing them. She acted differently than she had before. Almost like part of her was angry? But they were confused as to why. When they broke up it had been on good terms?
Sole ran their fingers through their hair, wincing slightly. “Would you mind giving me a check over and a quick patch up?” They asked as they glanced to their friend. “I got into a few rough situations and I’m feeling a bit sore- plus I think I’ve soaked up a fair few rads.”
Curie would never say no to checking Sole over. Even though part of her was still mad, she loved them. Nothing would change that. “Of course... you know zhe drill. Up on zhe examination table please. Shirt and trousers off.” She instructed, getting her examination kit ready.
Sole did as they as they were told, stripping down to their underwear and jumping up onto the table. They’d been here a hundred times easily. Life in the wastes was rough.
Curie glanced at Sole for a second, she had to fight the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks. No. She could no longer look at them in that way. She had to be professional.
She tried to get through the examination as quickly as possible. She gave a few shots of radaway and cleaned out a few wounds. Nothing else was needed done.
She was just finishing up when she noticed a bruise on Soles neck. She knew what that was. It was something Sole had done to her many times when they were intimate. A love bite.
Every part of her being was telling her to act like she had not seen it. But the more human side of her was reacting differently. “I see you ave’ been busy.”
Sole raised an eyebrow. They had no clue she’d spotted the mark. “Well yeah. You did send me on a wild goose chase for those supplies.” They joked lightly.
Curie stepped away from the examination table, putting her supplies away with a bit of aggression. “Mhmm.” She mumbled coldly.
“Is something wrong?” Sole questioned, pulling their clothes back on. Curie seemed annoyed.
“It wasn’t enough for you, was eet?” Curie suddenly rounded on Sole. “Aving’ me here... I wasn’t enough?”
Soles eyes widened. Where on Earth had this outburst come from. “Curie- what?”
Curie crossed her arms over her chest. “You couldn’t be satisfied by just me... you ad’ to ave’ your fun out there?”
“Curie. I was faithful to you.” Sole raised an eyebrow. Getting a bit defensive. They couldn’t believe what Curie was insinuating here.
“Zhen how do you explain that?” She prodded st the mark on their neck. “You leave me. Confused. You leave me confused. I ad’ no idea what that conversation we ad’ meant until you left.” All these months of being angry and it was finally spilling out. “I didn’t want you to leave... but no, Curie must just smile and nod. And to top it off, you come in ere’ with a mark from someone else?”
Sole felt their face go slightly red, rubbing the mark on their neck. “Curie... I. This- I got bit attacked by a blood bug.” This was a lot of information to process. Curie hadn’t realised they’d broken up with her. And now she was mad because she thought they were out there screwing other people.
Curie felt her face go a deep shade of red. Oh no. She had made a fool of herself. All she could think to do was turn away, staring down at the ground.
Sole moved and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Curie... I’ve not even been able to look at someone that way since you.”
Curie shook her head slightly, they were just saying this to make her feel better. “You ave’ no reason to explain yourself to me.”
“No I do. Because... well I regret what happened.”
Curie looked up suddenly, eyes wide. Regret what had happened? Did that mean they wanted their current situation to change. “I wish for you to explain... to avoid any confusion.”
Sole thought for a moment. How to explain and avoid confusion? They moved a hand to Curies cheek, watching her eyes for a moment before leaning in to press their lips to hers. There. That should explain it.
Piper: Six months since Blue had walked out the door. Six months since she’d followed them outside and yelled she’d never forgive them. God she’d made a fool of herself in front of the whole city. But she’d been so worked up in the moment she hadn’t cared.
Six months later and things were different. She was mad. All the time she was mad. Why had life been so unfair? First her dad was taken from her, a whole city learned to hate her and when she finally found someone who loved her, they walked away?
The hardest thing about it was she still had to work with Blue from time to time. Nick would call them in to work a case with him. Even though they were at each other’s throats constantly now they still got results. And Nick needed that.
Something Piper had noticed the last few jobs they had done was how Blue had been conducting themself differently. When they’d been together Blue had been so compassionate, always stopping to help a stranger no matter how big or small the problem was. But now? Now they were cold, rude, a kind of bully. Maybe that’s what made her so angry.
She had been working on an article when she heard the front door open. That was odd. Nat wasn’t due back from school for another couple of hours. She moved to the staircase, to see who it was. Her stomach dropped when she saw Blue stood there.
“Nick asked me to bring you these notes. Needs a file made up for a case.” Sole placed the paper on the table, glancing up at Piper.
The reporter nodded as she moved down the stairs and to the table. “Anything else?” She asked as she had a quick look at the papers.
“He wants us to go check out a vacant house. Reckons it’s a lead for that case we were on last week.” It was strange how non personal their exchanges were now. They used to be so close.
“Yeah well you can tell Nicky I’m not working any more cases if you’re on them.” Piper shook her head, putting the papers back down.
Sole raised an eyebrow, their expression going from blank to pissed off in a matter of seconds. “That’s really mature of you Piper.”
“Oh trust me it has nothing to do about maturity.” Piper shot back, her voice getting that way it did when she was mad.
“Oh yeah? Then what the fuck is it about?” Sole didn’t have the patience for this. Not anymore. Every time they had to work with Piper it killed them inside. They still loved her. But now they couldn’t even have a conversation without arguing.
Piper took a step forward, she stood up straight, clearly showing that she wasn’t backing down. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe the fact you’ve been such an ass about things? You made a mother cry the other day because she asked you one question about how we were going to look for her missing daughter. You broke a settlers generator because they had the ‘audacity’ to question you... you ignored Nat when she-.’ She stopped herself before she could go any further. Blue just wasn’t worth this energy anymore. Not if they were going to keep acting the way they were.
Sole felt their entire body go cold. God. They really had been acting like that hadn’t they? But to hell if they were going to back down. Piper always had to have the last word. Not this time.
“Yeah well maybe if you weren’t constantly undermining every decision I make I wouldn’t have to be such a dick.” They muttered, taking a step towards her to match her defiant stance.
“Undermining your decisions? Blue I don’t get any say in the decisions you make- ESPECIALLY when they involve me.” God Piper was mad. Blue knew just how to push her buttons.
“Oh of course! It always comes back to this doesn’t it.” Sole shook their head, throwing their arms up in defeat.
Piper sighed and turned her back to them, rubbing her temples in frustration. “Of course it does. I told you Blue. I warned you that if you walked out on me and Nat I was never going to forgive you. I meant it.”
Sole sighed and slumped down on the sofa, looking down at their hands. The anger had gone. They were just filled with sadness now.
“I didn’t walk out on you and Nat... I walked away so you could be safer.”
Piper shook her head as she turned to look at Blue again, crossing her arms over her chest. “No. We were safe Blue. We’d never been safer than when you were here with us.”
Sole looked up at her, eyes wide with shock. “Pipes you literally got kidnapped because of me.” God. They hadn’t called her Pipes in a long time.
“Raiders take people all the time Blue... it wasn’t your fault.” She sighed, moving to sit beside them on the sofa. “Me and Nat were safer with you here. Because when you were here I didn’t feel like I had to barricade the doors every night. I didn’t feel like I had to watch my drink in the bar in case someone tried to poison me.... I didn’t feel like I had to watch Nat so carefully in case she turned into me.”
Sole ran their fingers through their hair, glancing to Piper. “I really made you feel safe?”
Piper gave them a sad smile, nodding her head. “Yeah. You did. But that doesn’t matter now. You made your choice Blue.” She went to stand up, but was stopped by Blue tugging on her hand.
“Piper... I made that decision because I was scared for you... I know you said you could never forgive me-.’ They began, but Piper cut them off.
“And I meant it Blue. I can’t forgive you for that.”
Sole shook their head. “I know. But give me a chance. Let me show you that I’m still me. That you can trust me again.”
Piper sighed. She wanted to say no. Wanted to walk away. But she couldn’t. She looked at her Blue and she just couldn’t say no. “Okay... but we’ve got to start from the beginning. Alright?”
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fangirl-inthe-us · 4 years
Text
New Beginnings
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Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie have your first night back in Jackson.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Swearing, Self-harm (not really, but you’ll see), my grammar.
Word Count: 1.5k+
Author’s Note: I had intentions of adding this into my series, but it didn’t plan out this way. I figured that I had half of it written I might as well upload it as a birthday fic. Hope you guys like it!
Masterlist
Summer 2034
We approached the gate quickly. Joel had his arms raised. Ellie and I followed. We didn't want a repeat of the hydropower plant. Noticing that we were friendlies, they disengaged and called for the gate to open.
There, standing in the middle, was Tommy. As soon as he saw us, he was running out and pulling Joel into a bear hug. Once we all hugged it out, Tommy brought us into Jackson.
Looking at Ellie, I could see she wore a small smile. I nudged her a bit. She gazed up at me with her brows slightly creased. Raising my eyebrows, I nodded to the small settlement. In her eyes was a little twinkle. This sparked a little hope in my chest. Jackson was a great distraction to the whole Firefly ordeal. It wasn’t a long-term one, but it would help her as she healed and moved on.
“We’ve been waitin’ on you to return. Maria and I have a house picked out for y’all. I hope this isn’t too forward but uh, we just- We hoped that you would come back and you would stay awhile. You are gonna stay, are ya?”
“Yes, Tommy. We’re not going anywhere.” I spoke up before Joel could. I flashed him a bright smile.
“That’s good. The house we picked out had a garage out back. It’s been made up to be an extra room. But you can make it into anything ya want.” 
Upon reaching the house, Tommy unlocked it and let us in.
To my left was the living room. Instantly, the large bookshelves drew in my eyes. They both had several books in them. I was looking forward to reading those. I looked at Joel and he was already rolling his eyes. Ellie looked just as pleased as me.
To the right was the dining room, moving further dead ahead was the mudroom. It was complete with a washer and dryer. I flashed Joel an excited smile and he just chuckled at my reaction. I scoffed at him. Can a girl want clean laundry?
In the mudroom, to the right, was a doorway that led into the kitchen. Straight away, I was in love. This place was one giant present. Oh, my gosh. I sound like my mom.
I wasn’t ready for what awaited me upstairs. There were several rooms. Most of them were empty. I figured one could turn into Ellie’s room. It had the bathroom next door. She’d get it all to herself. Then I saw the master. This made me love the place.
The room was massive. It had a king-sized bed, a massive bathroom, and a freaking walk-in closet! Before all this, I had my bedroom. It was small. Not to mention I shared a bathroom with my three siblings. This place would be the first “nice” place I have ever owned. Obviously I would share it with Joel and Ellie, but still. I haven’t ever had anything like this.
“What do you think?” Tommy asked when we all made our way back to the living room.
Joel looked at me. I could see that he wanted my input. Joel wasn’t someone who cared too much about where he stayed. I guess the zombie apocalypse is that to a person.
“I love it! It’s definitely an upgrade to that dingy room at the military school in Boston.”
“Ugh, that place smelled.” Ellie chimed in.
���You lived at the school?” Joel flashed me a look.
“Yeah, I practically raised Ellie there. She and I shared the room until she got old enough to attend the school. She was then placed in a room with a roommate. Well, she was supposed to have a roommate.”
“What can I say, I was pretty lucky.” Ellie had a small smirk on her face.
“Okay, I’d leave y’all to it but uh… I need to steal my brother for a few hours.” At Tommy’s comment, Joel flashed him a confused frown. “It ain’t much. I just want to show you our routes and introduce you to a few people.” Tommy explained.
“Yeah, just give us a sec?” Joel then raised a single brow toward his younger sibling. Without thinking, Tommy waved a nonchalant hand and walked out to wait outside.
“What are y’all really thinkin’?” With a twinkle, Joel’s eyes switched to Ellie and me.
“I, uh. I can see myself living here.” Ellie spoke first.
Looking at me, Joel raised an eyebrow.
“I’m ready to move in whenever you are!” I smiled as Joel chuckled.
“Okay, I know this was more my idea and if you don’t like it here, we can go look for another place. Just let me know and we’ll do it.”
I rested a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, we like it. Don’t worry about it.” Stepping up, I pressed a light kiss on his cheek.
Once our conversation was over, Joel gave us a nod and walked out the door. Ellie and I stood where we were for a moment. I looked at Ellie.
“Hey, you wanna check the garage out back?”
“Yeah, sure.”
It was late. Joel hadn’t been back since Tommy took him. I figured that they needed some time to catch up. I mean, really catch up. Yes, they talked when we met at the hydropower plant. This time we were here for good. The boys could finally have some deep conversations and get into the nitty gritty things.
I, however, had moved some things around. A bookshelf here and a chair there. Nothing too exciting. Ellie had decided that she wanted to be left alone. She was in the garage space. I hoped that she’d choose to stay inside the house, but I knew that she needed her space. That certainly was enough space.
A shout came from the garage. I was rushing to the backyard. Hurriedly, I opened the door. A horrifying sight awaited me. 
There Ellie was a bottle of Drano in her hands while her bitten arm was severely scarred.
“Ellie! What the hell are you doing?” Walking up to her, I rip the Drano out of her hands and slam it on the coffee table.
“I am solving a problem. I can’t just walk around this place with a bite mark on my arm. I took care of it.”
“Oh, Ellie. We could have talked about this. You shouldn’t have to do these things on your own. Oh, baby girl. Come here. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I led Ellie into the house to clean off the residue on her arm. I used cold water so it would sooth the burn. When that was all taken care of, I led her into the master bathroom. I whipped out a homemade first aid kit I found under the bathroom sink. Tommy and Maria really thought of everything. 
In the kit was a salve and a roll of bandages. As carefully as I could, I rubbed the ointment onto her burn and sealed it with a bandage.
“There, taken care of. Please tell me next time you decide to do anything that might hurt you.” 
With a nod, Ellie left the room and laid down on the master bed. I followed her. She had curled up on the right side. I sat down behind her and ran my hands through her hair. It had fallen out of her usual ponytail.
“Mom?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“Hold me?” Her voice came out as a whisper.
Laying down on my side, I wrapped my arms around her. We laid like that for a while. SHe fell asleep before me. It was maybe thirty minutes after she fell asleep that I felt my eyes slowly start to droop.
The door opening rudely awakened me. The door closed and heavy footsteps walked around downstairs. I listened as they crept up the stairs.  I wasn’t concerned about who it was. I assumed that it was Joel. My suspicions were confirmed when he walked into the room.
I watched as he stopped mid-step. His eyes had landed on the sight before him. His two girls were all cuddled up in bed. Ellie was fast asleep while I was half asleep. Flashing him a lazy smile, I motioned him over.
As quietly as possible, Joel came to sit on the left side of the bed. I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Lightly running his thumb over the back of my hand, Joel squeezed back. There was a softness to his eye.
“Hey there handsome.” I whispered.
The corners of Joel’s eye crinkled with his smile. “Hey.”
“D’you have a good time with Tommy?”
“I, uh… Yeah, I did.”
I could tell there was something off. Soo, I questioned him about it.
“What? Did something happen?”
“No, no. I just told him what happened.”
“So he know about-”
“He knows everything.” Flashing a pointed look at me, he nodded his head toward Ellie.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Now that out of the way, come to bed. It’s late.”
Joel groaned while walking to the closet. “I haven’t owned a bed in twenty-one years.” Dressed in looser clothes, Joel walked back to the bed and climbed in.
Wrapping his arms around me, he moved so that his chest was against my back. I felt Joel buried his face in my neck. He placed a kiss or two there.
“Yeah, I could get used to this.”
Tags (Send an ask if you want to tag in more stuff like this or just add yourself here):@thedorklord94​, @spnstuff-mrvl​, @seb-owns-these-tatas​
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haledamage · 4 years
Text
Double Date
I’m very late in the day posting this, but I still got it before Valentine’s Day is over so I’m counting it as a win! this is sort of for OC Kiss Week, and since technically there’s a kiss between OCs I’m still counting it
a Valentine’s Day double date featuring Wayhaven’s cutest couple, Nate Sewell and Abigail Jenings, from the POV of Kira Kingston, one half of Wayhaven’s most awkward not-couple. AJ belongs to my dear @queen-scribbles, Kira is mine, Nate and Adam are from The Wayhaven Chronicles
---
Kira set a pair of mugs on the squat coffee table in her living room. One mug, proudly proclaiming its owner to be “Pure of Heart, Foul of Mouth, Smart of Ass” held a fresh cup of chai tea. The other, a beautiful handmade mug covered in sunflowers, belonged to Kira’s roommate, AJ, and was filled with coffee to the redhead’s very exacting taste.
It’s a quiet day in the apartment, something both women preferred and rarely got to enjoy. With work and Agency business - not to mention AJ's new boyfriend and Kira's… more complicated situation - it'd been a while since they'd been able to spend time together that didn’t involve casing a crime scene.
AJ had claimed the sofa, legs tucked under her and book open on her lap. It looked to be a very old tome, pages yellowed and spine cracked with time; it didn't take much to figure out where she must've gotten it - or rather, who she’d gotten it from.
Drinks delivered, Kira returned to the old gingham recliner and picked up her own book - a murder mystery; she’s pretty sure she knew who did it already, but didn’t want to skip ahead for vindication.
“Hey, Kir,” AJ's voice broke the silence and Kira's meandering thoughts. She waited for the brunette to hum in acknowledgement before asking, “You doin’ anythin’ on Sunday?”
Kira took a second to think about it, though she didn’t really need to. “I don't think so? In theory, I have the day off. Why?”
“Nate and I were thinkin’ o’ goin’ out and thought you might like t’ join us,” Abigail said in a rush.
Kira blinked. Then blinked again. “You're inviting me to third wheel on your date this weekend?”
“Not... exactly.”
“Spit it out, Red.”
“Y'see, we figured we could maybe…” AJ tugged on a wayward curl, straightening it out before letting it snap back to join the rest, “make it a double date.”
“A double--” Kira was half-tempted to pretend she didn't know who Abigail and Nate intended her date to be, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. “There's no fucking way Adam would agree to that, AJ.”
Grinning victoriously, AJ carefully closed her book so she could lean forward. “But if he did, would y’ go?”
There was no way Kira could say no to that hopeful look and she knew it. “Sure,” she sighed. “Okay. If you can convince Adam to go, then I will too.”
“Trust me, Kir,” Abigail said, patting her friend on the knee as she reached for her coffee, “it'll be fun.”
It's only later that night as she was setting her alarm that Kira realised with a sinking feeling what day Sunday was. She just got roped into a double date on Valentine's Day.
---
Kira resolutely refused to dress up. She was still pretty sure Adam wasn’t going to show up, and she didn’t want to third-wheel in uncomfortable shoes. She wore the same head-to-toe black she always did - though she did slap on some red lipstick at the last minute in an attempt to appear “festive.”
She felt vindicated when Sunday evening came around and AJ was dressed much the same way she normally was, blouse and waistcoat and adorable but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to tame her copper curls. She cycled between checking her phone, wringing her hands, and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her shirt; it looked like only sheer force of will was keeping her from pacing the length of their living room.
“C’mon, Red,” Kira said fondly. She put her hands on AJ’s shoulders. “Relax. You’ve been on dates with Nate before.”
“It’s our first Valentine’s Day.” She somehow sounded even more nervous than she looked.
“First of many.” That finally drew a smile to Abigail’s face. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“Hearts Festival,” she admitted quickly. “It was Nate’s idea, showin’ ‘em the local culture.”
“That’s… not a bad idea, actually.” Kira could feel herself relaxing under that knowledge. The Hearts Festival was a fair held every year in the Square, on or around Valentine’s Day. Most of the local artists and crafters set up little stalls of things intended to appeal to couples, but Kira and Abigail had found some of their favorite knick-knacks exploring it together. There was also music and cutesy romantic activities aplenty, but both of them were familiar enough with it that they could approach or avoid it on their own terms.
“Nate said Adam’s lookin’ forward to it,” the redhead said slyly.
“Nate was fucking lying.” Just like that her tension was back, which only made AJ smile wider. “I don’t think Adam knows how to look forward to things. Especially not when I’m involved.”
“Maybe. I guess we’ll see.”
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. The brief measure of calm AJ had found was gone in a blink, nervously brushing a palm over her hair as if that might subdue it. Kira bit back a laugh and took pity on her friend, yelling, “It’s open!”
The door swung open and Nate and Adam stepped inside, the former immediately greeting his girlfriend with a warm smile, the latter scowling at nothing in particular.
Knowing her presence had been immediately forgotten, Kira ducked out of the way to avoid getting stuck between Nate and AJ as they gravitated toward each other like magnets. She busied herself with getting her coat on instead.
She only barely stifled a surprised gasp when Adam came over to help her with it. Neither of them said anything, looking anywhere except at each other.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to break the silence, grabbing the first topic that came to mind. “I’m surprised they talked you into this.” Her voice came out a little rough, so she cleared her throat and finally turned to face him, playful grin in place. “Did Nate have to blackmail you?”
A corner of his lips quirked up in a small smile. “Do you think I’m that averse to your company, Detective?”
She shrugged. “Valentine’s just doesn’t seem like your thing.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted, strangely reluctant. “Why did you agree to this, if you didn’t expect me to?”
“I’ve never been able to say no to AJ.” Kira glanced over at Abigail and her boyfriend, who may as well have been the only people in the room for the way they were wrapped up in each other. “Don’t tell her I said that, she’ll use it for evil.”
“Is it your thing?” he asked quietly, watching their friends as well. “All of… this?”
She scoffed. “Not really. I don’t think I’m a chocolates-and-flowers kind of girl.” She looked back at Adam to find him frowning at her words. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked disappointed. It woke up the butterflies in her stomach and compelled her to add, “I’ve never had anyone try to prove otherwise.”
She didn’t give him a chance to reply to that, scared of what exactly his answer would be, clearing her throat exaggeratedly instead. “Should I go? I can stay at the Warehouse tonight if you lot need to be alone.”
AJ and Nate paused, their lips a hairsbreadth apart as they’d both been leaning toward each other. Kira didn’t need vampire hypersenses to feel the frustration coming from both of them, though neither of them said anything about it; she tried not to feel guilty about interrupting them as they moved apart.
A few minutes later, the four of them stepped out into the cold February evening and began the walk toward the Square.
Nate and Abigail took the lead. They only made it a few steps before he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. They shared a brief, besotted smile before turning their attention back to the sidewalk, walking close enough that their shoulders bumped together.
Kira found herself staring at their linked hands as she walked behind them, something stirring in her chest that she might almost call jealousy, except she knew she wasn’t at all attracted to either of them. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted over to Adam walking next to her, only to find him already staring back. For a beat, their gazes held.
Then they both looked quickly away, suddenly fascinated by the sidewalk and the light traffic on the road. Adam shoved his hands in his coat pockets, and after a moment’s hesitation Kira did the same.
The next few minutes were spent in tense silence, the only sound between them the snatches of conversation drifting back from the couple in front of them.
“Where are they taking us?” Adam asked suddenly.
“They didn’t tell you?” He shook his head and she smiled a little. “I only found out just before you arrived. They must’ve assumed we’d refuse as soon as we heard. It’s a little fair that they hold in the Square every year. I mostly just go for the food.”
“You’ve been before?”
“Sure.”
“With a date?” The question forced itself out through clenched teeth.
“Yes. I have a standing date with this cute redhead I know. About yea high,” she held a hand a few inches above her head, “lets me call her Red.” She watched in awe and amusement as the tension left Adam’s shoulders when he realised that his only ‘competition’ was the woman dating his best friend. Kira glanced fondly at the cute redhead in question, who looked back at her as if aware that she was being talked about. She winked at her, and Abigail grinned back. “I kinda thought I’d be spending the day alone this year,” she added quietly to Adam.
“You sound like you would have preferred that.”
“No.” It sounded like a lie, so she corrected herself. “Not exactly. I don’t mind the company. I just don’t like the crowds.”
They turned a corner and were hit by a wave of lights and noise as they entered the Square. Kira flinched under the onslaught more than either of the vampires did, but steadied herself quickly before anyone could fret over her.
The whole area was festooned with lights. Strings of white and pink and red fairy lights wound between poles and covered stalls. Everything was wrapped in ribbons and draped with flowers, and the notes of a familiar Elvis love song drifted to them from a small stage off to one side.
The night passed in a blur. Looking back at it, Kira wouldn’t be able to recall doing much more than just walking through the crowds, eyeing a couple interesting pieces of artwork and very fancy little cakes. She remembered the mulled cider Nate got her and the colorful bouquet he got AJ. She remembered being dragged into the photobooth with AJ, and standing on the sidelines of the dance floor watching her dance with Nate.
She remembered the way Adam stood next to her, a question on his lips that he still couldn’t quite voice. She remembered the single red rose that somehow found its way into her hand.
She remembered that she started the day feeling like she was being dragged along on her best friend’s date, and finished it wishing the date didn’t have to end.
When they arrived back at their apartment building, Kira and Adam acquiesced to their friends’ unspoken request and stayed downstairs to give them time to say good night properly. As soon as they were alone, the familiar silence fell between them, tense and comfortable in equal measure.
Surprisingly, it was Adam that broke it first. “Did you have a nice night, Detective?”
“You know what, I did. And one hundred percent less mirror mazes than our last date, that was nice.” She grinned when he chuckled at that. “I’m dying to see where people trick you into taking me next time.”
He didn't seem at all bothered by the prospect of 'next time.' His smile lingered, wide enough to show the slightest hint of dimples on his cheeks. "If I recall, the last one was with Nate and Detective Jenings as well."
Kira leaned against the wall of the apartment building and said, as casually as possible, "True. Maybe we should plan the next one ourselves, then. Invite them along for a change.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” He didn’t seem bothered by that either, though his smile was stifled by the weight of the look he gave her, serious and intense and full of an emotion she couldn’t name.
She tried not to wilt under that look and instead met it with an answering one. “If I was, would you say yes?”
He moved a step closer, struggling between what he wanted to say and what he felt he should. She waited him out, like she always did. Eventually, all he said was “Kira…”
The sound of footsteps on the stairs meant she’d never get to know how the rest of that sentence went. She tried to swallow her disappointment when Adam stepped away again, and turned to smile at Nate as he joined them.
He smiled back, an absolutely giddy expression on his face. Kira knew she’d see an identical one on AJ’s face when she went upstairs. He put a warm hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he walked past and wished her good night.
She expected Adam to follow him, but he still lingered a moment more, brow knotted with a frown. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said, a bit too quickly. “I simply… wanted to thank you. For accompanying me.”
“Anytime.” The admission made her blush, but she didn’t take it back. “I-I should probably…” she gestured vaguely up the stairs.
“Of course.”
He reached out and took one of her hands in a gentle grip, moving slowly as if to give her a chance to pull away. As if she had any intention of doing so. As if she wasn’t holding her breath for fear that any gasp or sigh might scare him away. He bowed, the movement so formal that she could clearly see evidence of the knight he once was, and lightly brushed his lips over the back of her hand.
Whatever he saw on her face as he moved away again drew a smirk from him. “Good night, Kira.”
She released the breath she’d been holding in a serrated sigh. “Good night, Adam.” Her voice came out oddly high-pitched, but it made him chuckle again.
Then he was gone.
It took a couple minutes before Kira could remind herself to move and drag herself upstairs. AJ was waiting for her in the living room, grinning ear to ear and still clearly on cloud nine about her night with Nate.
Kira was starting to think she understood the feeling, just a little.
That surprised a giggle out of her, the sound so hopelessly smitten that there would be no way she could keep what just happened a secret. Abigail’s knowing look only confirmed it, her smile somehow even wider and Kira’s growing to match it.
On a whim, she grabbed the redhead’s face and kissed her firmly on the cheek. “You are the best friend and wingwoman a girl could have.”
“You’re welcome, Kir,” AJ chuckled. “Am I forgiven for draggin’ y’ out on Valentine’s Day?”
“You can drag me along wherever you want to. No more complaints from me.”
“I’m gonna remember y’ said that.” She dropped down onto the sofa, leaving enough room for Kira to join her. “Now tell me everythin’.”
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kessielrg · 3 years
Text
Comeback Kid: Part 2
Summary: More third person additions to the chaos rp that @chibi-mushroom​ and @animacreates​  are doing.This time, Sabrina has spontaneously decided to break up with Ventus after what could amount to a nervous breakdown. In the aftermath, she is forced to take all her vacation time and become reacquainted with one of her favorite hobbies. But is it enough to get over Ven, or will the memory of him be too much to ignore? 
Rating: K+
Word Count: 2,398
Part: 1 | 2 | 3
If you liked this story, please reblog!
---
One of these days, Sabrina was going to have to ask Brain what the name of his cologne was. In the same breath, she needed to harass him on how much he used on a normal day. The cinnamon scent lingered on the still dryer warm t-shirt she had stolen. It was comforting. For once in her life, she was glad not to be surround by her purple obsession. The scent of lavender may be calming, but at the moment all it was going to do was remind her of the apartment.
And of Ventus.
Good thing Brain wasn't as vain as she was- the only mirror he really had was in the bathroom, attached to the medicine cabinet. If Sabrina had a full body mirror right now, she would have admired just all the ways she could have made Ven jealous. Brain's shirt didn't fall very low on her, but the old leggings she found were enough to cause a direct gaze to her butt. She was almost confident with herself again. Almost. Purposely being alluring to someone didn't mean the same if you didn't actually have someone to allure.
Sabrina grimaced to herself in the mirror, fluffing her hair a bit for something to do. She couldn't look herself in the eye. The last time she looked at herself in a mirror was when she skipped out on Ven. It's only been a day, and it still made her flinch. She had to leave the bathroom before she started to panic again. She went to the living room to find Brain sitting on his couch. The TV showing off some livestream on how to jailbreak a certain console. Sabrina walked up and placed her arms on the back of the couch.
“Could you hold off on being a blatant nerd? You're not even paying attention to it.”
Brain laughing, craning his neck to look up at her. “My house, my rules.” he told her. Then he got a good look at what she was wearing, and laughed. “And here I thought I was done with girls stealing my shirts.”
Sabrina let out a loud, incredibly fake gasp. “You had a sex life? Wow!”
“I could have told you about her if you had just asked. We dated for about a year. Not that I think I would have let you two share a room- you'd scare her.”
“I scare a lot of people. It's not even a challenge anymore.” Sabrina smirked. She moved around to sit next to him. Once she was comfortably sitting, she then asked, “So she was a good one?”
“Very good.” Brain agreed with a wide, incredibly fond, grin. Sabrina immediately recognized it as a grin of true love and scoffed.
“Oh shush, you.” her brother teased, forcing her to lay her head on his chest. She struggled for a moment out of annoyance. When she finally gave up, that was when Brain removed his hand from her head. Instead of sitting back up, though, she remained leaning on him. Brain did pick up the remote to change the TV setting so they could watch something on live broadcast. From there, the duo sat in a peaceful silence.
During the change between shows, Brain laid his head against Sabrin'as in thought.
“Hey Wabi-Sabi.” he mused. His voice was rather soft.
“Yeah?” she replied, her attention not leaving what was on the television.
“Do you remember, back before old Oz took us in, and we tried to spend a night out on the playground at Walt Memorial Park?”
Sabrina shifted a bit in her spot. Her face slightly darker than before as she asked, “Was that before or after the time we almost got caught by some officer around 2 AM?”
“You know what? I think it was that day.” Brain snorted. “But way before that, before the sun went down. Do you remember what we talked about?”
Admittedly, she had to close her eyes to try to remember. They nearly snapped open again as she realized, “It was about Mom, wasn't it? Why she left us.”
Brain gave her a solemn nod. “Not going to lie Sabi, I bluffed about a lot of that stuff. I wasn't there when Mom made the choice. I barely understood that she was the one who even made the choice to keep us together. Back then, I just assumed that they kept siblings together because who wouldn't? But I had to tell you something that night. You had just run away from another family. You were dead convinced that you couldn't be loved.''
“Why are you telling me this?”
“No reason,” he informed her with a grin. “Just thinkin' out loud, I guess.”
“Liar.” she spat, purposely using her elbow to poke at his side. Brain didn't refute the notion. If anything, he just laughed.
“So,” Brain then said, “What's your game plan for the next month? Oswald cashed in all that overtime and vacation pay you had. I can't see you just jogging between here and the old man's house everyday.”
“Shows what you know.” his sis huffed. “Just for that, I think I'm going to have you personally move all my stuff here.”
“What are you doing with the apartment, speaking of?” Brain asked.
“I don't know.” she admitted in a half grumble. “I'd let the lease run out, but that's still for another four months.”
“You really think you two will apologize between that time?”
Sabrina didn't answer. Instead, her face twisted into one of absolute disgust.
“Never said that.” she hissed.
“Sure, sure.” Brain laughed. “Just don't want you sitting at home with old Hollywood movies and ice cream, that's all.”
“Do you not know me at all?” Sabrina demanded, shoving him with enough force to make him move like a bobblehead for a moment. Brain's mirth did not let up. Sabrina gave her brother another disgusted grimace, but his words stuck with her.
Later on, while debating if she should clear her phone of certain numbers, Sabrina stopped scrolling through to see the name of her ex-boyfriend, Max. Max had been her first serious boyfriend, and they had managed to stay on good terms after the breakup. Sabrina made a single second choice, leading to her listening to the phone ring over as she waited for him to answer. She felt kinda dumb while waiting- was she really that self centered to think tha Max would have the time to even...
“Hey Max.” Sabrina greeted, almost in surprise, when he picked up the phone. “Yeah, I know it's been awhile. That's actually why I'm calling. You want to go to that little tea shop on Main Street tomorrow? I get it if you have other places to be since it's last minute...”
There was just one thing she could always count on in Max; he was patient when the situation called for it. Hearing him on the other end brought up a sense of relief she got from only a select few individuals.
“Thanks Max.” she sighed. “I just… need someone to talk to someone that isn't family. Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I'll tell you more later. Bye.”
Sabrina let out a long sigh. Well, that was one bandaid ripped off. Now to deal with the other; getting new clothes.
. . .
This island really was kinda small when you thought about it. She just hoped that no one Ventus knew would recognize her. Then again, the clothes she bought yesterday were darker colors meant to blend in with the crowd. If they managed to recognize her, hopefully she'd be long gone before they could flag her down. Seeing Max casually checking his phone outside the tea shop brought Sabrina a massive sigh of relief.
“Hey Max!” she shouted at him. He looked up and grinned at seeing her.
“Hey stranger.” he greeted with a grin. Once they were close enough they shared a rather heartfelt hug. “You wearing heels today? I knew you had legs for days, but I could've sworn you were shorter than this.”
“Nice try.” Sabrina smirked. She stood a bit taller over the fact that Max was several inches shorter than her. His height was perfect when they were dating- considering what he was nearly in direct eye line of. “You know I've never worn heels around you.”
“I used to be taller than you.” he jokingly pouted.
“Yeah,” she snorted. “For a whole summer.”
Max went into a laugh that was so light and joyful that Sabrina gave a small half smile. Bouncing more banter off each other, the duo headed on into the tea shop. Max found them a corner table near a back window.
“Anything look good?” Sabrina asked as they looked over the menu.
“Haven't had a tea party since I was swindled into one as a kid.” Max mused. “So I guess whatever you want to eat, and I'll take a cup of coffee.”
“How come you're only really adventurous when it comes to extreme sports?” Sabrina teased as she flagged down a waiter.
“Hey, if it's not broke, don't fix it.”
Sabrina just shook her head with a roll of her eyes.
“Welcome to Hightopp & Kingsleigh!” the server girl greeted. “May I recommend the earl grey this afternoon? Fresh from the pot!”
“No thanks.” Sabrina callously told her with a flick of her wrist. “We'll take a pot of peppermint rooibos, a baker's dozen of ladyfingers, and a single black coffee.”
“Sure thing!” the server girl agreed, writing it down on the notepad before heading to the back kitchen.
Sabrina and Max continued to have idle talks with themselves while they waited. There was no one else in this world that Sabrina could tolerate meaningless talks than with Max. They both said whatever was on their mind as it came. Thankfully, time away meant that they had plenty to reflect on. Unfortunately, it meant that at some point, current matters were going to be brought up as well.
She should have really asked to have a refill of hot water for the tea pot before even breathing Ventus's name.
“You just left him?!”
Sabrina groaned as she rubbed her temples. “Yeah...” she groaned. “His dad… I just hate his dad so much, Max. Then he started talking about marriage, and trying to convince Ven into whatever shady deal he's got going next, and it was just… Just…!” She looked up at Max to give a gesture of strangling an invisible neck, and it was enough to convey the message.
“All because your least favorite coworker was getting married as well?”
“And, like, everyone else around us! Ven's brother, two other guys from the station. How about we just chill for a hot second and realize that a ring isn't the only indicator of a good relationship?”
“You really should have gotten chamomile.” Max noted as he watched Sabrina take a rather long slip of her tea.
“Peppermint's better for stress.” she shot at him.
“If you say so,” Max replied, throwing his hands in the air to show innocence. Sabrina glared at him, but relented with a heavy sigh. Max looked her over. She had gone back to rubbing her temples and muttering rather unkind things under her breath. He had never really seen her in conflict before- or at least, this much conflict. Which meant he had to ask. Someone had to.
“Would things really change that much if you did marry him?”
Sabrina clung to the side of her head, her fingers clenching in her hair.
“No.” she finally admitted in a small grumble. “Just a different check box to fill when tax season comes around. It's the only excuse I can really think of. We're already living together, have at least one joint bank account because of it, and all that domestic bliss. We even have a chore chart, like a bunch of kids.”
“So what's holding you back?”
Sabrina grimaced -her teeth grinding- as her whole body tensed. Carefully, Max placed a hand on her arm. She looked up at him with the sole intention of smacking him away. But in seeing his sincere expression, she nearly started crying.
“Maxie,” she quietly told him “Is it bad I'd rather give him a kid than tie the knot?”
“Definitely unorthodox.” he mused with a solemn nod. “Maybe they feel like less of an obligation? You know the deal; some parents just drop their kids off to whoever, or just don't pay attention to them. Then they turn around and brag they're the best parents ever.”
“I can't do that to him.” she heavily sighed. “I just can't. And even then, I don't think I'm ready for a kid. Or any drama that happens during or after the pregnancy. Maybe when I'm 30? But doing so now just makes me sick.”
“Ah,” was all Max could say. He went into thought over this development. When a new idea came to him, he snapped his fingers as if he had solved a major mystery. “You said Oswald's making you take the next month off from work, right? Maybe it's time for a change.”
“Max,” Sabrina told him, even rather condescendingly placing a hand on top of his. “I am not going full Britney Spears and shaving my hair off. The mental breakdown was enough.”
“No,” he laughed, “Nothing like that. Look, you used to love dancing. Right? Roxanne is a teacher at the local dance studio. She mostly teaches the younger kids, but she's been itching for private lessons in her off time. Go take the edge off a bit. Do some pivots off the mirror, or spin around a lamppost for a hot second. Be that dramatic princess I know you are. Be yourself. I mean, it's not like Oswald's gonna let you head back into work right away anyway. Might as well make the most of it.”
“Next you'll be telling me that I should start writing a novel.”
“Well, I mean, if that's what you need...”
It hurt, but Sabrina forced herself to laugh. She looked up at Max and just smiled.
“I can't believe I know a lot of good guys.” she laughed, leaning over a bit to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Maxie.”
Max let out a shy little laugh as his face lit up a scarlet red.
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vanchlo · 4 years
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The Firsts / #7 “The First Gingerbread House”
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---> NEXT BLURB: The last blurb of The Firsts is most likely coming tomorrow, 12-16! 
READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST
SERIES MASTERLIST   
READ ON WATTPAD
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LEGEND:
+ : a break in the story; a time jump.
and i’m too lazy for italics bc tumblr ignores formatting that i do in Docs so sorry i give up 
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WARNINGS: None
WORD COUNT: 2.9k words - a fun extra blurb c: 
SONG: Thank God It’s Christmas by Queen (click to listen) 
“The secret of our success is that we never, never give up.” 
- Wilma Mankiller 
*
The smell wafting under the door was the first thing I registered when I woke up the next morning. Christmas music and its splendid sounds were what followed, until my sadness ran away with that moment of respite. 
He was gone. He’d left me. Harry had abandoned me. 
Those thoughts filled the sleepy holes in my head once again. Well, until I felt a movement in the bed behind me, and my eyes shot open. The room was devoid of any light, my Christmas tree long ago thrown in my closet after I read that note. It’s all but forgotten when I turn around and I remember. The snoring man under my covers whose feet rest against mine makes it all come back to me, tear by tear. Am I dreaming still? Not unless that pretend world of mine remembers the scar above his eye, the one right under the curve of his chin, or the way his eyelids flutter while he’s dreaming. Already hiccuping, I close the distance between us and throw my arms around him. 
“Mmmm,” he groans, slowly reciprocating the action like muscle memory. The crook of his neck is warmer than usual from sleep, and somehow, it smells even better than before. His woodsy vanilla scent remains as I paint his neck with my tears. “Becks . . What’s tha matter, baby?” Harry’s rasped words coast over my head. The ‘baby’ gets me right away, and the sob only deepens at how that’s his immediate response. 
“It wasn’t a dream,” I weep into his t-shirt, clinging onto him and never wanting to let him go. 
“No, ‘m here, Becks, ‘m here. ‘m not goin’ anywhere, not ever again, I promise you that. Now, go back t’ sleep, bug, ‘s only seven . .  We don’t hafta be t’ me mum’s ‘til three, and me sleep ‘s all messed up.” 
My head nods along with his words as his arms tighten around me, and my tears ebb. Sniffling, I feel them stubbornly stay and crash onto his skin with each shake of my chest. 
“You promise?” the words are choked and fear sits in them. 
“I promise, Rebecca Ann, and ‘ll never ever break this one t’ you, I mean it.” 
“I’m gonna hold you to that, Styles,” it’s a half assed attempt at a laugh with my words, but it’s better than nothing. 
“Breathe, baby, and try t’ sleep. I know you didn’t get much tha last couple o’ days.” 
My head moves around until it finds that special spot, and in the midst of it, I think of the other night when I couldn’t sleep. He was all I could think about, per usual, and Skye’s yelling didn’t help. I couldn’t tell who she was talking to, and I just assumed that her and her boyfriend were having a row on the phone. Now that I think of it, I came home from work almost every night to her on the phone, and she would angrily hang up. She was there for me, but she was secretive too, and I couldn’t understand why. Until now. 
“Skye told you?” 
“Ya,” his answer is just as quiet and slow as mine. I want to be angry and upset at the both of them, but I had spent so much of my life the last few years being mad at him that I couldn’t fathom another unnecessary second of it. “I left t’ spare you tha hurt, but there wasn’t a moment that I stopped thinkin’ and worryin’ ‘bout you, bug. She was pissed at me, so much so I wasn’t sure if she’d let me in last night when I came . . but she did. She said you would’ve killed her if she hadn’t, which I believe . . I had t’ check on you and make sure you were okay, and she was tha one closest t’ you, even if she spent each phone call cursin’ at me.” 
“But I wasn’t, how could I be after that, Harry? You disappeared on me and fell off the face of the earth. I’d never been so scared, not knowing if you were okay, or if I’d ever see you again. Y-You can’t do that again to me, we’re a team, you’ve said it yourself. We’ve talked about getting married one day, you’re my best friend a-and-,” he cuts me off before the tears do, threatening to push me over the edge that I don’t know if I can bring myself back from. 
“I know, sweetheart, I know, and ‘m so sorry. ‘ll never stop apologizin’, Becks, never. I realized too late what I did was so foolish and how terribly I hurt you. I thought I was savin’ you from mo’ pain when really I was jus’ givin’ you mo’,” he sighs, and the misery in his words almost makes me want to stop him from going on. Although it had only been a few days, it felt longer with our recent breakup, like it was all a ball of pain rolled into one. Months of just wanting him to be happy again, more so now after I thought things were okay again, and then he left. “Trust me, ‘m not gonna fook things up again. ‘m rather sure n’body would lemme anyways, not My’ or Skye or me mum. They’re all jus’ as pissed at me fer what I did, and I won’t ever do it again. I love you so much, Rebecca Ann, and I won’t ever f’get that. When things get tough, I know that’s what I need t’ rememba - that and how much you always love me.” 
“I tried to stop loving you, but I couldn’t . . I can’t.” 
“And neither could I, love, ‘d never want t’,” he murmurs. He begins to hum our song and then it spills from his lips. At last, I find the sound of his heartbeat, and my breathing begins to slow. Once he’s a few lines in and his hands are carding through my hair, I give in to the sleep, knowing that he’ll be there when I wake up. 
“Our first Christmas t’getha,” Harry rasps later on as I rub at my eyes. I make the mistake of opening them and am blinded by the light that pours in from my poorly drawn shades. His giggle tickles at my ears when I nuzzle my head back into his chest. 
“First of many,” I mumble in between the folds of his t-shirt, finally feeling around and noticing the absence of his flannel. “Where did your flannel go last night?”
“Where d’ya think it went, Ms. Heater? Bloody hell, ‘s stiflin’ in yer bedroom, y’know that? ‘Least put onna fan or sumthin’, I fookin’ overheated last night. At least at mine, I know t’ turn tha heat down at night ‘cos you do it all fer me,” Harry nearly scoffs, but the humor in his voice is contagious. 
“Is that what happened with your pants too?”
“Ya, and skinny jeans aren’t comfy t’ sleep in,” he remarks. I feel his body move as my hand goes under his shirt, feeling his toned stomach. Without knowing it, it wanders down and to the front of his underwear. “Hey, mind that hand o’ yers, woman.” 
“You know I just like to feel it sometimes,” is all I say as I palm at his crotch, hearing his groan. 
“Ya, well now yer gonna make me hard, and ‘d rather not be when ‘m textin’ me sista. God, ‘s she mad at me.” 
I don’t mean to giggle, but I find it difficult to resist, and even more so when Harry is groaning at me. 
“‘s a good thing yer cute, and so are yer li’l snorts,” he says, shaking his head at me when I at last rest my chin on his chest to look up at him. 
“Aren’t you a little old to be wearing skinny jeans? You’re almost thirty-one, Harry.” 
“Hush,” he tuts, slipping his tongue out to swipe over his lips. His lips remain parted before he bites at his bottom one when his thumbs flit across the screen of his phone. “Stop bein’ mean t’ me, ‘m tired.” 
Another laugh slips out and his head is shaking furiously as I feel his dick harden underneath my hand. 
“Rebecca Ann, get yer hand away from me dick, or else.” 
“Or what?” I say, fully aware of what I’m doing to him, and so is he. 
“Woman,” it comes out as a perturbed sigh from him, but it’s all but ignored as I get on all fours. He doesn’t acknowledge the way that I climb up his body with kisses pressed up his scratchy neck. “What d’ya think yer doin’?”
“What, can’t I kiss my boyfriend?” I tease, threading my way through his arms. His neck smells amazing when I lay down on top of him, wheezing at the ‘ooof’ he makes. 
He hums an approval while his phone makes small noises every time he types a letter. A smile warms my face as I cozy my face into his neck, needing to make up for lost time as I think of how he didn’t even react or protest when I plopped down on him. He wrapped his arms around me and hooked his chin over my shoulder and carried on, as if normal. 
“Hey, look who’s callin’ me,” Harry notes, his voice still crackly from sleep. “Hullo? Hi, Harper, how’re you, darlin’?” in seconds, his voice drips of honey for his other favorite girl in the world, filling my heart. “Ya wanna talk t’ Anty Becky? ‘Kay, ‘ll put you on speaker so you can talk t’ us both.” 
“Best get ready, somebody may have missed you mo’ than me,” he grins at me as we stop in front of a door decorated with a festive wreath. “Didn’t know that was possible.” 
The door opens within moments, and a small girl with honey colored hair stands in front of us. 
“Anty Becky! Unky Harry!” she exclaims, her adorable pin striped apron billowing around her when she runs forward to wrap her arms around our legs. 
“Hiya, sweets. How’re you?” Harry coos, bending down to scoop her into his arms. If I wasn’t melting already, I sure am now. “Happy Christmas.” 
“Happy Christmas! I missed you!” she whines, resting her head on Harry’s chest as he hugs her back. Goddammit, my ovaries better calm the fuck down. “And I missed you, Anty Becky!” Harper squeals when she lets up and reaches her arms out for me. I take the little girl in my arms and Harry ushers us into the house and out of the cold. 
“How are you, love?” I ask her, combing her hair out of her darling brown eyes. 
“Good. You’re both early, yay!” she announces, pulling on my hand and Harry’s when I let her down. We share hello’s with Gemma, her husband, and the walking and talking Ollie. 
“Mum not here yet?” I hear Harry ask his sister who replies with a curt ‘no.’ “Seems ‘m still in tha doghouse with her.” 
“What’s a doghouse?” Harper asks when she stops, seeing as how we’ve reached our destination. The kitchen table prepared with our supplies awaits us, and I get the message when I see the look Gemma gives Harry. 
“Don’t worry, love. So, I hear we’re makin’ gingerbread houses t’day?”
“Yep! Mummy said you’re really good at making them,” Harry’s young niece says. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when I meet them, but he still cracks a laugh. 
“I s’pose I am, or accordin’ t’ yer mummy, I am.” 
“Yay, I’ve wanted to make one for so long, and mummy said we could today since Christmas dinner isn’t for a few hours,” she answers, and it only continues to surprise me how much she’s grown since I first met her. 
“How’s school going, Harp?” my question finds a place in between her meticulous watching of Harry taking out the gingerbread pieces from the zipped baggy. 
“Good, I know all of my ABC’s now, Anty Becky,” she answers, but her attention couldn’t be further from me. 
Her eyes widen when her uncle takes off the lids to the frosting her and Gemma had prepared. My hand goes to my mouth when she tells Harry to be careful with the sprinkles container he opens. The organ that thumps away in my chest metaphorically swells at the sound of how she says his name. Hair-wee. It only drives my ovaries a bit more nuts at the sound, and I mistakenly think about our kids calling him that, and the beloved Daddy, of course. 
“‘Kay, here’s tha pieces t’ yer house, Harpy. Now, we can’t eat all o’ tha frostin’,” Harry tells her as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. Swoon. 
“Do you want some, Unky Hair-wee?” she offers, sticking her finger into the pink frosting and holding it out to him. He shakes his head at her offer, but when she isn’t looking, he swipes some for eating. “Hey, you said we can’t eat it all!” 
“I didn’t, I only had a touch, love.” 
“No lying, Unky Hair-wee!” she says with a wag of her finger at him, and soon, we’re all laughing but her. “Becky, Hair-wee is being naughty.” “Oh no. What should we do about it, love?” I find it harder to pose my question in a serious tone than I thought it would be. She hums a sound like she’s thinking, and I giggle under my breath when Harry picks her hand out of the bowl of gum drops. 
“He gets coal for Christmas,” she mutters, her small face squished with upset as Harry assembles the first two walls of her house. 
“‘m not gonna help you with yer house if yer not gonna be nice, Harp, but we won’t have anythin’ t’ decorate our house with if we eat all o’ our sweets,” he tells her gingerly, giving me an alarmed look when I find his eyes. Shaking his head, he picks up the piping bag and continues to put the walls together. 
Huffing, she pulls her hand back from the small plate of chocolate chips, placing them in her lap. Pulling my eyes away from my half assembled house, I watch her observe Harry and his craftsmanship. I don’t have to look very hard to see the similarities between the two. First off, oh my god with the stubbornness. Then, there’s the love of sweets and chocolate, to no surprise. Her hair curls at the ends beautifully, and deep dimples sit in her cheeks when they move. Although she’s a spitting image of her mother, when I see young pictures of Harry, I see Harper in them too. 
Resting my chin on my hand, I lose myself in watching him with her, knowing he’d be just as sweet, if not more, with his own babies. God, I need to get a grip. 
“Why’s it not working?” Harper whines ten minutes later when one of the walls of her gingerbread house falls down. 
“It jus’ needs mo’ frostin’, sweets. I didn’t do a very good job with that one, ‘m afraid. Here, why don’t you keep decoratin’ tha other sides while I fix it, ya?”
“Mmmmkay,” she sighs, picking up a small red cinnamon flavored candy to continue framing the door. Her pudgy, little fingers are careful and slow, and it makes me smile. “Yours looks cute, Anty Becky,” she comments and when I look over at her, she’s giving Harry a dirty look. He lifts his eyes with his face torn between being upset and trying not to laugh, asking me with his eyes, ‘did you see that?’ 
“Thanks, Harp, and so does yours. You and Harry are doing a good job.” 
“Not good enough,” it’s a mutter under her breath, but I hear it. I clear my throat as I continue to press peppermint twist candies onto a wall of my gingerbread house. 
“Hey, li’l miss, watch tha li’l attitude,” Harry warns with a raise of his eyebrows. He drops the piping bag after the house is all reassembled and dances his fingers across her ribs until she’s squealing from laughter. “Huh, what was that? Did I jus’ hear you say, ‘’m sorry, Unky Hair-wee, I love our gingerbread house so much! Yer tha best unky in da world, I love you so much!’” 
“No,” she giggles, and by now, my gingerbread house is forgotten as I watch the two with their dimples adorning their laughs. “I didn’t say that! I don’t love you, you’re all stinky and mean!” 
“Am not!” Harry scoffs, picking her up from her chair and holding her upside down. Her laughs continue loudly as he tickles under her arms and in the crook of her neck, tossing her onto the sofa in the nearby living room. 
“Are too!” she fights back, kicking at him as he towers over her, sending chuckles from her lips. “I like Anty Becky better!” 
Harry gasps at her proclamation and now, I’m laughing along with her. He looks over to me and I don’t think he could be smiling bigger. “Ya like this?” 
“Mmmhmm, you’re so cute together. You’re gonna make such a good daddy one day,” I muse aloud, surprising myself with the confession. It only makes his dimples bigger in his cheeks, and I can’t tell if they’re reddening from the tickling or from my words. 
God, I couldn’t have picked a better man to be a daddy to my babies one day. 
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Screaming Salvation (Part three)
I’d love to know what you guys think of this story so far.
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Rosalie woke only a few hours later when she heard a quiet murmur of conversation behind her. She kept her eyes shut and breathing slow as not to alert anyone she had woken up.
“How do we know we can trust her?” it sounded like the redhead, Abraham spoke. She almost snorted. They shouldn't trust her, they shouldn’t trust anyone in this godforsaken world.
“Ain’t give us no reason not to,” Daryl huffed. She noticed he was still next to her, her back was almost touching his side and she could feel the warmth radiating off him.
“For all we know she could try to kill us in our sleep,” Abraham said coldly. She felt Daryl tense a little beside her.
“She’s outmanned and outgunned, with a damn baby. She ain’t stupid,” she could almost hear him rolling his eyes. And he was right, she wasn't stupid. She wouldn’t try anything like that, especially not when they were helping with the baby when she so desperately needed it. Abraham huffed and it fell silent, the only noise were others snores or shuffling as people not on watch got ready to settle in and get some shut-eye. Rosalie wondered why Daryl was sticking up for her. The only time they spoke was when he patched up her arm, but she was good at reading people, and she knew Daryl was too. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly Daryl saw in her that made him trust her, to defend her.
She fell back to sleep easily and when she woke again, it was light outside. She sat up and stretched, wincing at the stitches pulling. Her body still ached like a bitch from how she had to overexert herself the day before, but the rest had done her a lot of good. She glanced down to check on the boy and her heart stopped beating when she saw he wasn't there. The makeshift mattress empty. Her breathing became laboured as she scrambled to her feet, head whipping around to look for him, but she couldn't see him with anyone. The movement woke Daryl, who she didn't notice had slept next to her, but not too close. He sat up quickly, looking at her concerned as she looked on the verge of a panic attack. He got to his feet and gently gripped the top of her arms.
“Hey, s’alright. What is it?” he asked, his voice was thick from sleep, glancing around trying to figure out what had upset her, maybe a bad dream? He wouldn't blame her. 
Then he saw it. The baby was gone, and his eyebrows rose as he looked around himself confused, still holding the girl who was struggling to breathe. It wasn't his business, yet he found himself irritated that someone had taken the boy. He knew his family meant no harm by it. He most likely woke up and they wanted to let the girl rest, but he knew she wouldn't see it like that. She didn't feel part of the group, she’d been with them a day. If he and Judith were with a new group for a day, he’d fucking kick some major ass if someone pulled this shit on him. 
Rosalie's heart was thumping in her chest and she couldn't seem to get her brain to work with the lack of oxygen. Her eyes frantically scanned the area for the boy and came up with nothing. She barely registered when Daryl had spoken to her or the grip he had on her arms. She looked up at him, blinking slowly as her breathing slowed down slightly, the oxygen returning to her brain. It was like something snapped. The look she gave him was murderous, and he knew right a-fucking-way that shit was about to go down if he didn’t contain it. He couldn't risk his family being hurt over a misunderstanding. He also didn't want the girl to get hurt or even left behind when she and the baby needed their help, he knew he had to fix this. He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't a little scared. He’d seen what the tiny thing was fucking capable of when she was pissed off, and he had no intention of getting his head chopped off. It took a lot to scare Daryl Dixon, yet he was looking at an angel-faced feral woman who made his balls shrink and try to climb back up into his body with a single look.
He glanced around nervously as she looked like she was about to scream bloody murder, and he dragged her quickly into the kitchen area that was unoccupied.
“Where is he?” He honestly expected her to shout, scream, hit him maybe a little, but her low growl of a tone was far more unsettling than all of those combined.
“I dunno, but he's safe alright? He probably woke and maybe Maggie or Carol took ‘im so ya could sleep,” he offered, his voice low and trying to be calming. He knew he was no fucking Rick Grimes when it came to this shit but he hoped she would listen. Rosalie squinted a little at him, gritting her teeth as she tried so hard not to clock him around the head. Deep down she knew that no harm was being done to the boy, they all seemed to dote on him and oddly enough, she trusted at least Rick and Daryl to know they wouldn't let any harm come to him. But she was still pissed. He was hers, maybe not technically but he was more hers than these assholes and they just fucking took him. 
Daryl watched her as she breathed deeply and he had no doubt she was refraining from throttling him, but it was something and he’d fucking take it.
“I know it ain’t right, and I’ll talk to ‘em. He’s yours and they shouldn’t have taken ‘im. But he’s safe, I promise,” he soothed, watching as she relaxed ever so slightly. She looked up at him and gave him a chilling glare, making him swallow thickly.
“You better hope for your sake he is,” she growled, clenching her fists. He had placated her enough by agreeing with her that they shouldn't have taken him, gave her some semblance of comfort with knowing she had a right to be pissed off. He was a smart man indeed that Daryl Dixon and she wondered if he meant his words or said it just to calm her down. Either way, she had calmed down enough that she wouldn't maim the asshole who had taken the boy. 
He eyed her cautiously to see if she had calmed down enough, and when he was satisfied he gave her a slight nod. He led her out of the kitchen and Rick looked over curiously. If he didn't know any better he would have thought the pair had a sneaky rendezvous in the kitchen, with the girls flushed cheeks and heaving chest and Daryl looking like he didn't know what to do with himself. But he did know better, he knew Daryl enough to know he wasn't the kind of guy to have a quicky in the kitchen with people around. Daryl hadn't been with anyone since Rick had known him.
“Everything alright?” Rick asked with a warm smile as he walked over and glanced between the two. Rosalie looked like she was barely containing her anger and shot Daryl a look. Daryl knew she was expecting him to tell him, since if she did all hell would break loose. He was glad she was giving him the chance.
“The boys gone, where is he?” he asked gruffly before chewing his lower lip. Realisation dawned on Ricks features as he glanced at the girl again, he felt bad that she had worried.
“Look, I said it wasn't a good idea... but Maggie and Carol didn't seem to agree with me. They're out on the porch with him. They gave him breakfast and said you needed to rest,” Rick grimaced. When Maggie had suggested it, Rick told her right up it was a bad idea, but Carol had disagreed and the women took the boy and went out on the porch. He saw Rosalie take a deep breath, she was relieved he was safe but she was still pissed.
Just as Daryl was about to go out to get the baby, Maggie and Carol walked in chatting and smiling at the little boy who was perched on Maggie’s hip. The sight made Rosalie bristle. She hated how she was reacting, it was making it clear that leaving the boy here wasn't going to be an option. It was making her feel all kinds of jealous seeing the baby smiling up at the women. She went to take a step forward, half a mind to set the place ablaze with her wrath, but Daryl marched forwards, taking the baby into his own arms as he glared at them.
“The hell were ya thinkin’ just takin’ ‘im like that? Ya think she wouldn't’ be worried?” he hissed, scowling something fierce. Maggie blanched as she glanced at Rosalie staring daggers at her and Carol rolled her eyes a little.
“We thought she could use the rest, we were only outside,” she huffed a little impatiently, not happy with Daryl's tone. 
“How the fuck she supposed to know where ya are huh? Soon as she wakes and the boys gone?” he asked, giving her a pointed look before turning on his heel. Carol did feel bad after that. She didn't really think much about it, about how it had just been the girl and baby for two months and how she'd worry as soon as she saw he was gone.
Daryl walked over to Rosalie and handed the baby over to her. His mouth quirked up a little when he saw the baby babbling and patting her face. She was like a different woman to a few seconds ago, all rage dispersed as she smiled down at the little boy. It was plainly obvious she loved the boy, even if she tried hard to distance herself. She bounced him on her hip a little and he laughed lightly, making her grin. She looked up at Daryl, swallowing thickly as she felt a little bad that he'd had to handle her like that. Like a bomb about to go off. But she knew he got it, the things he’d said to his family, he understood and he didn't judge her for acting the way she had, and it made her feel a little better.
“Thank you, Daryl,” she said softly, the slightest smile on her face. A stark contrast to the murderous glare and growling woman he was dealing with just seconds before. He’d only ever seen her smile to the baby so he felt a little honoured she’d bothered to grace him with one, even if it was barely there. He gave her a nod and chewed his thumb, glancing down at the baby.
“S’nothin’,” he started to feel uncomfortable about the whole thing. He never really liked big deals made out of nothing, but he knew to her it wasn't nothing. He didn't know why he seemed to just get her so well.
The awkward need to talk further was luckily faltered by Rick speaking up.
“Alright everyone, I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should stay here for a few more days. Rest up and try to catch some food, get our energy back up before we head back out,” he said as he glanced at everyone. Everyone nodded and murmured in agreement and that was that. Rosalie knew she was right in her assessment that Rick was a leader, and from what she had seen so far, he was a good one. She wasn't used to being in a group and being told what to do, but she trusted Rick enough that she would follow him. At least for now until she was back on her feet. At this point honestly, she didn't have any inclination to stay with them forever. The idea of leaving the boy with them was floating further and further away from her mind each time she saw someone else with him. It made her chest ache in a way she wasn't familiar with, but she knew she didn't like it.
In the middle of Rick's speech, Daryl had moved to stand nearer the leader and Rosalie went to sit down against the wall. It felt so strange to her to feel somewhat safe here. Knowing there were others looking out for her. It was the only plus to being in a group, but she still felt weirdly uncomfortable. She was grateful for the rest here, some respite she really fucking needed, and some food for the boy. It made her feel a little less guilty. After some dry crackers and water for breakfast, people were just chatting or milling about as she sat there. She was feeling antsy, she wasn't used to all this, wasn't used to so many people, all the noise. She slipped out onto the porch, silence finally settling her as she sat on the porch swing with the boy. He was tired and she smiled down at him, stroking his dark hair softly as she watched his eyes close as he finally slipped off into a sleep. 
She sat on the porch swing for a little bit, letting it sway just slightly as she looked out into the forest. She wasn't sure how safe it would be here and she wondered if Rick's plan for a few days would actually be a good idea. It seemed like there were way too many ways the dead ones could come and get them, or people. The whole cabin was just surrounded by forest and she wasn't sure if even the people on watch would know before it was too late.
She was broken from her thoughts by the front door opening and closing. She looked up and saw Daryl with his bow over his shoulder. He saw her and made his way over, leaning on the railing in front of her as he watched the sleeping boy. Daryl had never really cared much for babies before the turn, but Judith had well and truly melted the man's heart. It was strange to see a woman who was clearly capable of a lot of things, cradling the baby gently, looking at him with nothing but love in her eyes. When she glanced up at Daryl, he felt awkward, nervous, he wasn't quite sure, but he nibbled on his thumb and looked down before glancing at her through his hair.
“I uh...I spoke to ‘em again. Won’t just take ‘im without ya permission,” he said with a slight nod, his voice low and gravelly. Rosalie blinked at him for a moment before nodding.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but thanks again,” she said softly, watching the man curiously. She knew he just wanted to bolt and run into the forest, he didn't want to be here feeling uncomfortable. He snorted a little, it seemed she could read him just as well as he had been able to read her. He wasn't too surprised since she was the same in that regard. He’d seen how uncomfortable she was the night before when everyone was thanking her for the squirrel meat.
“Told ya before, s’nothin’,” he replied, looking at his shoes. 
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I was about ready to rip someone's throat out in there and you talked me down. Shit, I thought Rick was law enforcement, not you,” she said looking amused. He found he liked her being like this with him, teasing and playful rather than looking like she was about to shiv him. He scoffed a laugh at her and shook his head. His permanent scowl gone, making him look younger.
“How the fuck d’ya know Rick was a cop?” he asked her incredulously, genuinely curious how she'd figured that out.
“I’ve had enough dealings with pigs to know one when I hear one,” she smirked, making him bark out a laugh at her. She almost reminded him of Merle with those words. For some reason, it seemed so easy talking to her. Like he could forget all the shit that had happened, the losses suffered. He couldn't remember the last time he’d actually laughed.
“Uh-huh, get yourself arrested a lot?” he asked, teasing right back with a slight smirk and a mischievous glint in his eyes. She gave him a fake scowl and huffed.
“Not a lot, only like...20 or so times,” she replied, trying to keep a straight face. He shook his head at her with a slight smile, and she found herself smiling back. She had no idea what the fuck was going on with her. She never found it easy socializing before the world went to hell in a handbasket, never mind after. 
A silence settled between the pair of them but it wasn't uncomfortable. They didn't need to make small talk, they both found it companionable. After a moment of stroking the boy's hair, Rosalie looked back to Daryl.
“Going hunting?” she asked curiously, glancing at the bow slung over his shoulder. He chewed his lower lip and gave her a nod.
“Yeah. Rick wants to see if we can find some food. Ain’t been much recently, think the walkers been eaten’ ‘em all,” he sighed as he glanced out at the forest surrounding them. Any time he came back without food for the group, he felt like a fucking failure. It was his job to go and provide food for them, and he hated coming back empty-handed.
“I’d offer to come, I’m not too bad at hunting, but…” she didn't need to finish her sentence as she looked at the sleeping boy in her arms. She didn't want to bring him unless it was necessary, after all this time of him being in danger. And he knew after this morning she didn't feel comfortable leaving him with his group. He didn't really blame her, it wasn't the best way to earn the girls trust. He found himself peeved at Maggie and Carol. He would have liked the girl to come. He was curious to watch her in action out there. He knew she had to be decent at hunting for her to have made it this long. He also seemed to really enjoy her company.
He loved his family more than anything, and he knew they loved him. They knew him like no one else did. He’d been through hell and back with them. But he couldn't help but need reprieve from them sometimes. Every time he looked at them, he was reminded of his failings, all the blood on his hands. They didn't blame him. They told him they didn't, but he blamed himself. And now when he was with them, he found himself haunted by the ones they lost along the way, the ones who he felt he had failed. And Beth, fucking Beth. He’d never been that close to her before the fall of the prison when he was forced to be with her, lost her, found her again and then watched her die. It ripped his black heart to shreds. She was like the little sister he never fucking asked for but so desperately needed. The light in the very bleak new world. Now she was gone, and it was all on him. 
But this girl, she didn't have any ghosts coming to haunt him. She was just there. She was brave and ferocious, yet soft and gentle all wrapped in one pretty package. And Daryl found it relieving talking to her. To be around someone that didn't leave him feeling guilty or like a failure. He was shocked at himself with how easy he could read her, how easy he could talk to her. He was almost positive this morning he wouldn't be able to talk her down. He wasn’t like Rick in that way, he didn't have that diplomatic touch to him. He was rough around the edges and more often than not, he rubbed people the wrong way. But Rosalie had responded to him. Hell she even thanked him afterwards, and in a weird way it made him feel a little proud he had been the one to do that. Like he had some kind of connection that was starting between them. 
He didn't know just how much he had needed a person like her. Someone new and without ghosts chasing her. His own little personal retreat from the all-consuming guilt he dealt with day to day. He wasn't really sure what was going on, but he knew he wanted her to stick around. He didn't want to go back to that vile dark place he had been stuck in. She seemed to be the only light in his life in a long fucking time, despite the fact they'd known each other for only a day. He felt like he didn't deserve it. He didn't think he deserved anything good in his life after the amount of people he had let down. But he found himself selfishly wanting her to stick around, to make him feel that little bit better. He knew he could offer his protection for her and the boy. Even if she didn't want it he couldn't imagine not fucking doing it. He’d done it since the second she joined the group without even meaning to. He really hoped she would see how much better it was in a group, his group. That they would look after her and the baby and she didn't have to do it all alone. And he swore to himself that this time, he wouldn't fail. He wouldn't fail her or the boy. He'd never fail another fucking person again, even if it killed him. But these two right in front of him, for some weird reason, felt like his life line. His tether to root him here instead of drowning in his grief and self-pity. And he hoped that by offering her safety at the very least, that maybe, just maybe, she would stick around a little longer. 
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FIC: The bright lights, the merry go
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Sitting at the kitchen table, she let out a quiet soft sigh to herself as her thoughts continued to buzz quietly in the silence surrounding her. There was the occasional plinking sound as the kitchen tap let out slow, irregular drips, and the whirr from the refrigerator motor humming quietly in the space, and a soft noise as the oven slowly brought itself up to temperature. Jo had turned it on earlier, uncertain as to her plans for the day, but as she’d pottered around the house aimlessly her interest in baking in the empty house had fizzled out, and upon slumping into the seat at the table she hadn’t had the energy yet to get up and turn it back off.
It was one of those rare mornings that the other was out doing what he needed to rather than taking the morning to catch up on the sleep he missed out on, staying up playing his games and on hand to soothe away the nightmares that plagued her. As soon as the nightmarish voices had faded away and her body returned to herself, Jo’d caught up on a few kisses despite her protests of morning breath and been teased as she’d changed into her running gear to take their baby out while Grey’d pulled on a clean hoodie and his sneakers before departing for whatever hunt was on his agenda that morning and might let him be home by the afternoon.
Jo had gotten back from her longer than usual run with their fluffy baby, and spent a good while pampering the happy dog with a good brushing and cuddles before going for a soak in the bath with a copy of the latest Madeline Miller book to while away the cloudy morning. It was peaceful, if overly quiet, and gave her the time to relax but as she’d gotten out of the tub and dried off with the fluffiest towel she could find, Jo could feel the boredom - or at least that’s what she was thinking of it as - sinking in at being home alone.
She’d first tried to distract herself with some television but found herself starting and stopping new episodes of six different shows and channel surfing even the shopping network before giving up that idea. Her book was her next port of call, but even that just led to her shuffling about the house trying out different places to sit - one too cold near the window, another too far from the light far from it, the bed she couldn’t find a comfortable way to lay or perch, and sitting at the kitchen table to read her book felt strange. Jo tried working in her study next, pulling books that Harry had managed to locate from a contact in Mexico with a Spanish-English dictionary beside it had taken up about half an hour before she’d called quits on that as translating the words started to add to the headache she could have sworn had been developing all morning.
That was when the idea of baking had struck, her stomach growling for a very late breakfast as she moved down to reheat one of the cinnamon buns left in the fridge from the weekend and put the kettle on for her first cup of green tea of the day, but even as she sat at the table tearing at the bun and sipping her drink as the sun’s rays only just busted through the grey clouds to shine through the window - Jo couldn’t find the motivation to get up and do that either. Everything was just too heavy lately, after tearing her psyche apart recently and the hard work of stitching herself back together was still underway - it was too hard to do anything on her own again while she was still struggling to work her way through all that.
Nana had walked in after a little bit, burrowing her nose into the joint behind Jo’s knees and looking up at her with those big soulful eyes until she’d gotten a few bites of the warmed cinnamon bun for her own lip-smacking enjoyment. The unconscious movement to comply with her baby’s wishes were so rote at this point that Jo barely realized that the last perfect mouthful had been handed to the joyful pup before the smart dog noticed the empty plate and made off down to the lounge room with a happy wag of her tail leaving Jo slightly at a loss all over again to her thoughts and inadequacies to do anything. Everything was too hard to do, and now she hadn’t even gotten to have the middle circle of her bun.
“Balls,” Jo muttered quietly to herself under her breath as she stirred mindlessly at her tea before sighing into the silent room. “...Fine.” Grumbling to herself, she got up finally and moved towards the oven to click it off before slumping down onto the floor, resting her back against the warm oven door with a soft sigh as she closed her eyes for a moment.
That moment seemed to be a lot longer than she’d thought, as the next thing she knew was the sound of pounding paws on the hall floors and the warm baritone greeting the pup and that the oven behind her was no longer warm to the touch as she thunked her head back silently.
It took another few seconds before Jo tried to scramble quickly to her feet at the approaching sound of footsteps. It wouldn’t do at all to be found like that, it’d just worry her love too much. He shouldn’t have to worry about her very weird brand of crazy. Struggling, Jo let out a loud cry as she accidentally hit her head on the oven handle as she struggled up to her feet, rubbing at the sore spot. “Fuck! Bollocks, motherfuckin’ bullshit, crap!”
“Jo? Are you okay?” The panicked tone from the other was exactly what she’d tried to avoid, but as Jo finally got to her feet, the ache at the back of her head seemed to disappear as she looked into the warm and concerned blue eyes staring back at her as Grey rushed to her side. His hands were in her hair and gently placing pressure against the sore spot that had been throbbing painfully before, and all she could see was concern and love as his fingers massaged the area gently and his eyes danced between each of hers. “What happened, pretty one? Oh, that egg feels bad-”
“It’s not so bad-” “Jo, that feels like a bad bump.” “I just banged it a bit, I’ll be fine.” “Of course you will, let’s get you seated, hm?”
Jo found herself nodding gently without dislodging that comforting touch as she was gently guided back to her seat. She felt herself blushing however as the other picked up her now cold mug of tea before moving to put the coffee machine on instead as he poured the cold liquid down the drain without comment. Letting out a quiet groan to herself, she slumped back down again, resting her cheek on the table and rubbing at the sizable bump on the back of her head gently without worrying much about hiding that it hurts now there was no point to it.
“You want a coffee, Jo?” Grey asked gently as he rinsed out her mug and moved towards the fridge. Jo could tell he was looking at her in concern even as she let her eyes close and gave a positive-sounding groan in response. “Did you need anything else - pain killers, some chocolate, something?”
“I’m sure the coffee’d be just fine. Maybe…” “Maybe what?” “Maybe another cinnamon bun possibly.” “Coming right up then!”
Her cheeks felt hotter all over again as she rolled her forehead against the table before lifting her head to look at the confused and concerned yet adoring look she was getting in response. Grey was chewing on his bottom lip as he took not only the milks but two of their remaining cinnamon buns from the fridge to be warmed through in the toaster oven on a tray to catch any errant cream cheese frosting.
“I was tryin’ to decide what to do today, and I have no ideas,'' Jo mumbled out as an explanation, rubbing at the back of her head gently as she dropped her gaze down. Her head was already feeling better, but that was probably just her elation at the other being home so quickly. “I… I was almost thinkin’ of cleanin’ the oven, actually. I was that bored.”
“You, bored? Oh, we can’t have that.” The other smiled warmly as he came over with two mugs of steaming coffee - perfectly poured and balanced with their individual milk preferences and as Jo took a sip the pleasurable taste of caramel got a pleased groan from her in surprise - and sank into the seat beside her before reaching out to rub at her head instead. “What did you get up to while I was out to be so bored already, pretty one?”
“I tried some television but everythin’ was borin’. And I’d already taken Nana on a run and read some while in the bath that I didn’t want to do more of that. Otherwise?” Jo shrugged a shoulder, leaning into his touch with a sigh. “Didn’t know what to get up to. Was thinkin’ of bakin’ but I just… I guess I just wanted some company.”
“Well,” Grey’s smile was so soft and inviting and felt like a warm blanket wrapping around her in its soft embrace as she looked back at him, the tiny crease in his brows the only showing of the concern at her words that she could see. “If my company is what you want, then that’s what you get today.”
“But-” “No buts.” “Grey…”
“Nope, we are doing whatever catches your fancy today, my dearest pretty one,” Grey shook his head, smiling softly at her before he leaned in to kiss her gently for a moment. His touch was so comforting to her, and leaning into the kiss, Jo barely held back the whimper at the loss as he pulled back. The smug smile she got as she blinked her eyes open made her feel flushed all over again. “Now, you’d said something about wanting to do some baking?”
“Mhmm.” “Baking it is then. Not that I’m anywhere near as good as you.” “That’s not true at all.” “Oh yes it is, your baking is a thing of beauty.” “Hunny-” “No fighting me, not about your amazing baking, Jo.”
There was a pause as Jo opened her mouth to argue more before letting out a sigh instead and leaning her head back into his touch instead. “If this is the hill for you-” Jo let out a small giggle, shaking her head gently not to dislodge him before adding cheerfully. “Bakin’ it is I guess.”
Grey gave a decisive nod at her words, leaning in for another long kiss that would’ve made her knees buckle if she’d been standing before pulling back again and hopping out of his seat at the beep of the toaster oven. Jo chewed on her lip thoughtfully as she tried to think about what she would like to do together. They had almost anything and everything on hand given they’d done the groceries the day before, but also it wasn’t like the other wouldn’t fetch her any ingredients they were missing if she longed for them. If she wanted some vanilla fresh from Madagascar or some fancy French chocolate or milk straight from some Jersey cows, she was certain it would be in her hands with a moment’s notice. Whatever her heart desired, she knew without a doubt she’d have it.
“So, what do you think we’d make?” Grey asked cheerfully as he slipped into the seat beside her again and sat the plate with two warmed buns between them. Jo shrugged a shoulder as she watched him for a moment, before letting out a small giggle and reaching a finger out to wipe the melted cream cheese frosting that clung to the corner of his lips after he’d taken a big bite before licking it off. She blushed red to the roots of her hair at the heated gaze she got in return before dropping her eyes down to the other bun, tearing a bit for herself rather than acknowledge the electric hum in the air between them at that moment. There was a pause before the other added, voice thick and husky but fighting through it to speak nonchalantly. “If I recall, you had promised to teach me some things.”
“Oh yes, many a thing.” “Did you want to try some of those?” “What? Like the doughnuts or puff pastry?” “Yeah, exactly.”
Jo thought for a moment, chewing the mouthful of her bun and taking a sip of her coffee careful to avoid looking up at the other as she was unsure what she’d see reflected back at her. She had the most patient man in the world, but even patience would wear thin one day - especially when they both bucked against it equally but equally uncertain as it was. She couldn’t face if he was disappointed with her, focussing instead on gently nibbling on the warm, soft bun before eventually shaking herself free of those concerns and turned towards the idea of doughnut-making instead.
“Hmm, well, we’ve definitely got what we need for some typical glazed doughnuts,” Jo hummed to herself thoughtfully as the pair continued to eat their belated breakfast and sip their coffee. “Could do some custard-filled ones but I’m not the biggest fan.”
“Agreed,” Grey replied quickly, smiling softly at her over the rim of his mug as Jo tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfully. There was a pause before he set the drink down and reached out instead to rub gently at the bump on her head gently. “Did you have any other ideas? Or is there something else we could make with the dough instead of just the glazed doughnuts?”
“Hmm.. We could make some fried fritter things?” “Oh?” “Yeah, like, get some soaked raisins or fruit of some kind-” “We just got some apples yesterday?” “Oh yes! That’s a great idea!”
“So, doughnuts and apple fritters are the plan?” The other asked gently, his fingers soothing what little pain still radiated at the back of her head away as Jo finished her second bun of the day and tilted her head into his skillful hand. “That sounds like a fun way to spend the afternoon.”
“Well, late mornin’ and afternoon!” Jo giggled, quirking a brow back at him as she got a rueful grin in response. It was barely morning, it was true, but it amused her to correct him as they both looked at the oven clock showing that she was right for the next two minutes. The bemused look she got in response brought on another round of giggles as Grey shook his head at her and those last moments of the morning disappeared as he finished his cinnamon bun and she finished her cup of coffee.
As they finally finished, Jo reluctantly finally pulled back from the calming touch to push her chair out and get to her feet with an over-done flourish of her hands and far more energy than she’d felt earlier. “Let’s get started on the teachin’ then, hey hun?”
Grey nodded his head, getting to his feet as well and picking up the plate and their mugs deftly with a smile. She could see the concern underneath the amusement in his eyes, but with him there Jo doubted she’d be feeling forlorn or even a little bit of the throbbing pain she might have otherwise. “So, where do we start, pretty one?”
“Well, I’ll get the ingredients out if you help clear off the table so we can have a clear work surface?” “As you wish.” “Thanks, farmboy.”
The laughter that filled the kitchen was so much better than the oppressive quiet that it had been before - and Jo found herself humming along quietly to a tune she didn’t quite recognize as she pulled the dry and long-life ingredients out of the pantry. That song suddenly filled her ears from the speaker in the corner as she moved towards the now cleared table and spotted Grey’s smile from the corner where he was likely putting together a playlist with an eclectic mix of both their favorite songs. Smiling to herself as she bobbed along to the song, Jo pulled out a few mixing bowls as well as the milk, eggs and butter they’d need to start with.
Once everything was assembled, Jo let out a bright giggle again at the feeling of arms wrapping around her waist before she looked down to notice the half-apron wrapped about her and Grey’s head pressing into her shoulder and neck as he tied the bow at the back for her. “Thanks hun!”
“No worries, Jo, can’t get you getting all covered in flour. Actually, that might be very cute, ignore my silly idea.” Grey chuckled against her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. He shifted to move the chairs from their side of the table and then leaned a hip against the tabletop with a grin at her, one brow raised curiously. Jo grinned widely in response, taking in the way he had chosen to wear the dark blue apron instead of the frilly yellow she had on. “Well, what’s our next step, oh baking goddess?”
“First things first - dough!” “Nut!” “Hunny…”
Jo found herself giggling again as she caught his cheeky grin, twisting to peck his grin away quickly before turning back to their ingredients - pouring the necessary amount of milk for a double batch of dough into a heat-proof container. “Like I said, first things first so we’ve gotta get the yeast started. Can you warm the milk up a little and I’ll get the yeast separated out for the doughs?” She barely had to wait for the nod before tipping the yeast into each of their bowls and pushing them aside. Once the milk was heated, Grey poured it evenly between the two bowls and set the heating jug aside on the table out of their way. Jo glanced down at the rest and gave a quiet sigh before pulling over the flour to start sifting into another bowl to get rid of the lumps. “I hate siftin’ flour-”
“Well, how about you give me that job and you do the next bit then?” The other asked gently, reaching for the setup and then giving her a hip-bump to move out of the way as she relinquished the task for him. Grey smiled gently at her before giving the flour an extra shake. “I don’t know why you’d not like this task, Jo.”
“Ugh, it’s just so boring to do but you always need to. Stupid recipes requiring sifted flour!”
That got a laugh from the other as Jo moved to check on the yeast before moving to grab the jug and put the butter sticks in instead to heat in the microwave. By the time that was melted through and she’d poured in the apple cider, vanilla and salt into that jug, Grey had finished sifting the flour and the yeast had formed a foamy, bubbling top in the respective bowls. Jo gently instructed for some flour to be added to each bowl but the remaining bulk left in the sifted bowl for now before she handed Grey a wooden spoon and picked one up herself to gently fold and wet the flour in the yeasted mix together.
“Alrighty, the annoyin’ bit is whisking in another bowl now - can you separate eight egg yolks into this bowl here and I’ll get the whisk and sugar?” “Absolutely, Jo. Any plans for the whites?” “Hmmm, save them and we’ll have egg white omelets for lunch?”
Grey peppered her cheek with kisses and praise for creative thinking for the unnecessary bits before he moved to crack and separate the eggs as requested. Jo tipped the right amount of sugar into the same bowl and started to whisk as he added each yolk before handing the whisk over to him to continue as she poured the butter and other bits mixture in with the creamed yolk and sugar mixture, followed by the remaining flour. Once combined, Jo poured it into equal measure back into the two bowls with the yeast-mix and each picked up their spoons to mix together the dough.
“Oh, they look about ready to knead now too-” “Yeah? Not too sticky?” “Doughnut dough is supposed to be stickish.”
Grey nodded thoughtfully at her claims, smiling across at her as Jo put a layer of flour down in front of both of them so they could start kneading their mixes gently. It took about three minutes before Jo’s dough had formed together into a lovely ball that was taunt and sprung back at a finger prodding. As she wiped out the bowl that had held it before and then gently oiled it before plopping her ball into the base of it, Jo smiled happily to herself before turning to see how Grey had gotten on.
“Oh my god, hunny!” Jo cried, eyes wide and shocked as she looked towards the other. “What on earth did you do to that poor dough?!”
Grey flushed a deep red as he unsuccessfully tried to free his hands from the extremely sticky dough-like mix that was stuck mostly to his hands and the table but didn’t resemble the consistency at all that Jo’s had achieved at that point. “I, uh, I don’t think I was prepared for how sticky it was.”
“You don’t say!” The blonde let out a loud laugh as she looked on at his futile attempts to free himself, before Jo shuffled in under his closest arm. “Alrighty, let’s see if I can help you rescue it, huh?”
“Saving things, it’s what you do best.” Grey’s words ghosted over her ear as he peered over his shoulder from behind her as Jo’s hands dove in alongside his to try to free them and wrangle the mess into some sort of dough.
It took another few minutes for the sticky mess to start to come together and begin to feel like a proper ball of dough - still the stickiness needed for the doughnuts but no longer attached like concrete to the tabletop or either of their hands - and Jo let out a little laugh as she could feel the other’s hands finally getting the hang of the pull and push motion needed to work the tricky dough into submission.
“You know, this is where the playlist should start up with Unchained Melody.” Jo quipped quietly as they slowly worked the dough together and she moved her hands to help coax Grey’s into the different cupping-and-rolling motion needed to roll the dough into a cohesive ball ready to be returned to the bowl. “And I’d be behind you, of course.”
“Oh, so you’d be Swayze in this situation?” “Well, dah. I am the one that knows how to make it after all.” “That’s very true. And I definitely feel safe in those arms of yours, pretty one.”
Jo blushed something fierce as they finished the dough and moved to plop it into it’s bowl beside the other and Grey grabbed up some tea towels to cover them before they moved each bowl to a warm sunny spot to rise. Scrubbing at her cheek, she let out an embarrassed giggle at realising she’d just rubbed flour all over her cheek before sighing.
“Here, let me.” Grey picked up a spare towel and started wiping off her cheek before pressing a kiss to the same spot and then drawing her in for a gentle yet deep kiss for a long moment. Pulling back, he pressed his forehead to hers and sighed softly. “Thanks for the lesson, Jo, I was…”
“Stuck?” “Absolutely.”
“You’re welcome, hun.” Jo giggled again, pulling back a bit to press a peck against his forehead before turning her attention back to the table. “Alrighty, can you put away the flour and milk and stuff while I clean up the mess and then we can start on the apples and stuff?” She got a nod in reply, and working in tandem the mess was cleaned up in no time with the dirty bowls set in the sink and her wiping the table top down with a damp cloth to get any leftover flour up.
The sound of running water surprised her, and looking over, Jo couldn’t stop the soft smile growing as she noticed the other start of cleaning the bowls and spoons and other pieces rather than leaving them to sit. Grey’s shoulders weren’t slumped forward like she had worried they might after a bit of a failure making the dough on his own originally, and she could hear him humming along absentmindedly to the song on their playlist despite it being one of the songs she would class as hers. It was such a small gesture but made her stomach twist, and untwist again and the gentle look that was thrown over his shoulder towards her.
Shaking her head, Jo ducked her head down before moving towards the counter top to pull out the chopping board and set the apples from the fridge down as well as a heavy skillet out. Butter went into the skillet on the stovetop to start browning up on the lowest setting as she started peeling the apples absentmindedly with a knife.
As she finished the last of the apples, Jo blinked and let out a surprised noise to notice Grey had moved over and started to dice the peeled apples and add them to the skillet as she’d zoned out. Setting down the paring knife, she moved to add some cinnamon and brown sugar in with the apples before leaning her head against the other’s shoulder at the closeness. It felt so warm and light in the kitchen right then, in a way that the heated oven hadn’t felt before, warm and comforting and like home as the smell of the apples and butter cooking was mixed with the faint scent she knew was uniquely her love’s as she pressed her nose against his arm.
Jo let out a quiet sigh as Grey moved to put the last of the apple in the pan and press a kiss to her neck right over her scar. “Hey, I’ll get started on lunch while you do that, yeah?” The other waited all of a moment before pressing another kiss to the same spot at Jo’s nod of approval and he turned to start assembling the omelets for their lunch and likely a little bit for their darling girl once she’d eventually wake up. The apples simmered down softly and were moved off the heat in time for Grey to claim control of the stovetop for their lunch as Jo bounced about instead to reset the kitchen table and consult a few food blogs on her phone to decide on exactly the best way to form their doughnuts and apple fritters later.
After a quick lunch - egg white omelets with spinach, tomato and cheese which Jo pronounced to be delicious even though Grey denied that it was any good after he kept changing which technique to use to fold the omelet over on itself so each of theirs looked different - Jo suggested they watch some television as the dough still needed another half hour to rise.
The half hour came and went though, both tucked up on the couch with their girl laying across their laps and Jo’s head resting heavily against Grey’s shoulder as she snuggled into his side under his arm. It was warm and comforting and felt so good for her to be pressed up against Grey. Jo stroked through Nana’s fur gently as she watched the show, and found herself grinning gently to herself to realise that Grey’s fingers were just as absentmindedly stroking through her own hair as well. Everything felt so right in that moment, and when her phone beeped the minimum resting time had passed, Jo snuggled in closer and decided to wait for the end of the next episode before suggesting they get up.
“So, you never answered my question.” Grey chimed out softly as the episode finished and he clicked around to just put some background noise on instead of starting a third episode for them, raising an eyebrow at her when Jo made a quiet whine. “C’mon pretty one, what did you get up to that was so boring, hmm?”
“Nothin’ really-” “Jo?”
It took a moment and for her to cuddle in and rub her face against his chest for a moment before replying, cheeks red and mumbling quietly at how ridiculous she felt acknowledging it. “I was just… I missed you. I was missin’ you so everything sucked and I didn’t..” Jo let out a sigh, turning her head to look down at their pup as Nana tossed her head back for a moment before clambering to her feet in a swish of her tail and obvious disgust that she could tell her mommy and daddy were about to get up soon enough. Shaking her head, Jo gave a soft smile to herself before flushing all over again. “I’ve just been exhausted lately, emotionally, so like.. I just didn’t want to do anythin’ without you, hun.”
There was a pause, and Jo wasn’t surprised at all when there was suddenly a hand under her chin, tipping her face up towards his, and then gentle lips on hers. It was exactly the response she wanted somewhere deep inside, so leaning into the kiss with a quiet squeak. Grey’s hand shifted softly around her jaw line into her hair with his other hand and she found herself shifting into his arms and lap to kiss him back harder. It took more than a few minutes before their kisses slowed and stopped with a tiny groan from both of them as they moved back reluctantly. Her heart was pounding, but as much as part of her wanted to make any barriers between them disappear in his arms - a larger part was still mixed up and unsteady that she wanted nothing more than to cuddle in tighter and feel the comfort and stabilising impact of the other’s arms to keep her safe against all those concerns.
Grey gave a quiet groan under his breath before he kissed her again, softly and gently and so sweetly, before he shifted to set her back on the couch beside him with a tight hug. “I missed you too, pretty one, and I’m sorry I left this morning then-”
“No, no. You had to go and do-” “I could’ve waited though.” “Maybe, but you would’ve had to go sometime, and by goin’ you got to be home earlier!”
“Well, you’ve got me there.” Grey gave a chuckle, and Jo could feel it reverberating through his chest for a moment before he finally pulled back and got to his feet with a blush at his moving to readjust for a second, before holding out a hand to help her up “Do you think the dough is ready yet?”
Jo nodded, rubbing at her flushed cheeks as well as she got to her feet quickly with Grey’s help, before grinning widely. “Oh it definitely should be - would’ve been ready an episode and a half ago.”
“We should’ve paused-” “Oh fuck no, cause why would we stop mid episode?” “Then we shouldn’t’ve watched the last episode-” “And not finish an arc?”
“You just have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Grey grinned back at her widely, and Jo smiled back hearing the laugh before letting out a yelp at the playful tap she got as she passed him by towards the kitchen. There was another laugh from both of them as Jo hurried down the hall and danced just out of reach from the other as he took off after her, giggles and laughter filling the hall and kitchen as they reached it with teasing kisses and hugs before finally sobering up some.
Jo gave a final tap to the back of the other’s head for a second before she moved over to their aprons and handed them out as she looked over for their dough bowls. “Wow!” Looking in the bowls as she pulled the tea towels off and reset her apron around her waist, Jo’s eyes widened at just how much the dough had risen before letting out a laugh. “Well, those got big.”
Grey exclaimed likewise as he came to look at Jo moved the bowls onto the clean kitchen table. “Are they supposed to grow that much?”
“Maybe not, but they should still be nice doughnuts.” “Fingers crossed.” “Could you put a pot on the stove, fill it with the new oil in the pantry and put it on low while I get these ready?” “Of course, Jo, easy done.”
Jo smiled softly as she looked over her shoulder to see the nodding head of the other as he moved around to get the cast iron dutch oven out of the cupboard and set it up with enough oil for their frying. Turning back to the table, Jo spread out a thin coating of flour in the two spots they’d be working to make the doughnut shapes, before moving to get the cooled apple mixture.
“Did you want to do the doughnuts first and then we can start on the apple fritters?” “Sounds good. Which dough is which?”
Jo chuckled, grabbing one of the bowls and then tipping it out onto the floured space before her and then split it in half with a bench scraper she grabbed from a drawer right then at realising they’d need it. Plopping one half of the mix in front of Grey instead and pulling out the rolling pins, Jo smiled softly as she watched him prodding cautiously at the slowly deflating dough in front of him. “Okay hun, time to roll carefully and then we’ll shape them and set them over on a baking sheet. Did you want to cut the holes out and cook the doughnut holes too, or do the more bagel-like finger poking?”
“Well, one way we get doughnut holes that maybe someone could have with coffee for breakfast tomorrow like some other time, hmm?” Grey quirked a brow at her as he spoke, reaching out to tug on the end of a strand of hair for a second before tucking it behind her ear at the light giggle she gave. “With some fruit of course.”
“But of course!” Jo chirped back with a smirk, well aware that the suggestion of doughnuts for breakfast was of course a conscientious decision from the other to give her something for whatever he thinks she must have been missing that morning with his being away. Shaking her head with a smile, she waved a hand to the other. “Okay, can you grab the really big circular cookie ring as well as a smaller one from the cookie cutters? I think they should be easy enough to find in the third drawer-”
“I’m allowed in the famed baking drawer?” “Only with my permission of course.” “Well, of course.”
The banter got a laugh from her, and as the other moved back over with the two cookie cutters she double checked the sizes and gave a decisive nod at them being just right. Of course Grey would pick the perfect pair.
It took a few encouraging comments and soothing words from her as they moved into rolling out and then cutting the doughnut shapes that he wasn’t rolling them too thin or that the slight tackiness to the dough was to be expected. Jo had to remind him three times about coating his rolling pin with flour, and was rewarded with a flick of the white dust towards her that settled on her cheek and in her hair with a laugh from both of them. Eventually the first bowl worth of dough was successfully worked and cut out into sixteen doughnuts and sixteen corresponding doughnut holes. There was even just enough dough that Jo rolled them out and cut out two little bone-shaped doughnuts that they’d not cover in any icing to be saved for treats for their darling girl.
At that, Grey noted it was almost Nana’s dinner time, and as he moved off at the pup’s whining cries to be fed, Jo moved to check on the oil and dropped a small handful of the doughnut holes into the glistening oil to check and test for the temperature and cooking times. The colouring was slow, but eventually the golden colour came to the bottom side and they were gently flipped with a metal spider as she moved to set up another tray lined with paper towel and then a cooling rack on top for them to cool and avoid getting too oil logged as they’d cook the rest.
“Those look beautiful, Jo.” Grey said gently as he came up behind her, hands wrapping carefully around her waist into a tight hug as Jo carefully lifted the balls out of the oil and set them out on the drying rack. “And you’ve already thought ahead to the cooling rack!”
“Can’t have them sitting in the little oil to get soggy!” “Of course not.”
Giving him a grin, Jo handed the metal spider to him as she pulled out of the hug. “Well now, your turn to cook some too, huh?”
Grey gave her a wide eyed look of surprise before nodding, and with only a few jokes he’d gotten two of the large doughnuts and one of the little bones floating and bubbling away in the oil under his careful watch. Jo smiled affectionately as she watched his cautious checking on the color changing on the underside of the doughnuts and stayed by his side as they waited to see how long they’d take to cook. The way they didn’t split or puff up any more as they cooked was a good sign that they’d cook well.
“I feel a lot more comfortable seeing how these are doing,” Grey remarked with a grin, flipping over the last of the doughnuts for them to start on the second side. He held the strainer carefully in his hand and pushed on the top of one of the bobbing doughnuts to watch it pop back up after a moment with a smirk. “I get the feeling that those Try Guys would have had an explosion or seven by now-”
“Oh no, Eugene’s beer doughnuts would have been a horrible wet mess-” “But somehow win in the end.” “Exactly!”
They both laughed at the ridiculousness before their attention was drawn back to the bubbling golden pastries. It was another minute before Jo gestured and Grey pulled them out to drain and started on a few others. “Okay, in a minute when they’ve cooled a bit can you check if they’ve cooked through? I’ll get started on the fritters while you handle the doughnuts, my padawan. I trust you with this.”
“Of course, I’m your best pupil after all.” Grey chuckled quietly but leaned over to give a press of a kiss to her cheek with a cheeky smile before Jo moved back to the table to work on the fritters. She heard their sound system start back up and an approving nod from the other calling out that the doughnuts appeared cooked through as the songs started up - one from her current favorite album lilting through the speaker and the soft voice of the other singing along to the male pieces as the song slowly built up - while she moved to dump out the remaining bowl of dough.
Singing along softly under her breath - “A universe away” - Jo moved to roll the dough out to an adequate thickness before spreading half of the apple mixture into the centre third of the dough rectangle she had made. Folding either side over in a booking-fashion, she slowly rolled it out again, again and then a third time until she had another apple-studded rectangle before doing the same again with the remaining half of the apple mixture. As she did another book-fold and then rolled the dough through to the original shape and thickness after another few turns, she used the bench scraper to cut the dough into three long thick strips, and then cut each strip into matching triangles with quick, sharp cuts. Each triangle fritter was set out on a third tray, and as she finished those, got a damp cloth to wipe up the remaining flour on the table and cleared the bowls into the sink with a smile.
She moved the tray of fritters over beside Grey’s mostly empty tray of uncooked doughnuts with a smile, and shared an affectionate hip bump when he acknowledged her arrival. Though the smile dropped from the other’s face as he noticed her moving to start on the dishes as he was stuck holding the strainer to take the cooking doughnuts out.
“Hey, you leave those Jo.” “Huh? Oh no, I’ll do the wash up today.” “No, no no. I’ll take care of that and the lunch dishes once I-”
Jo turned slightly, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she looked across at him as he impatiently flipped one doughnut too early and splashed a bit of oil out onto the counter top while the color was only just a pale yellow and not yet golden brown. Raising a brow as she glanced between it and Grey’s defiant yet uncertain look, she quirked the other brow up as well. “I don’t think so. You’ve still got doughnuts to fry and you clearly need to keep practising to get that timin’ right.”
“Jo-”
“So, you keep on cookin’ those and then the fritters, while I do the washing up.” Jo finished firmly despite his interruption, shaking her head at the aborted snort of disapproval from the other as she filled the sink with water and suds. Sure, she wasn’t a fan of washing dishes, but she wanted to do it - Grey didn’t always have to do all the washing even though he tried to. “And then we can work on the icin’ afterwards.”
“Isn’t it just a royal icing? Icing sugar and water or milk?” Grey asked, a small frown on his face as he flipped the slightly under-done doughnut back over and continued to cook the other two as if nothing had gone wrong. “Or you doing something special?”
“Was thinkin’ a chocolate glaze given it’s just the icing sugar, milk and some cocoa powder and vanilla.” “That sounds good, pretty one.” “Maybe I’ll also make a small amount of pink and we can drizzle some extra decoration?” “Artistic, huh?”
Jo giggled at that, nodding as she washed the dough bowls and the cast iron pan the apples were cooked in. The lunch dishes were just as easy as well, and doing them as well as drying the dishes and putting them away took her all the way through the last of the doughnuts and doughnut holes being fried and right up to the start of the apple fritters. Jo warned carefully that the extra water content from the apple mix might cause some splattering, and Grey cautiously grabbed the splatter guard from it’s hidden spot to cover and avoid any flying oil hitting either of them as he slid three of the fritters into the oil. They did splutter right away but it calmed down as the dough became more and more golden before doing it all over again as he flipped them to the other side.
Jo herself moved towards making glazes for both different types of doughnuts - mixing a glaze out of the milk, vanilla, icing sugar and cocoa powder as well as some without the cocoa powder but a few drops of red food coloring instead into two bowls quite quickly, and then a third glaze for the fritters with the milk traded out for a dash of apple cider instead and the vanilla for a pinch of salt to give a salty sweetness to those fritters instead. They were all clearly easy to tell apart from one another, and as Grey called her over to check if the first fritters had cooked through properly, Jo was so proud to see how good and fluffy their work appeared to be.
They traded off then, Jo taking over the metal strainer and getting a sweet kiss in return, as Grey saw the time and moved to start working on dinner for them - leaving the remaining fritters to Jo’s attention and frying. The songs shifted but neither minded if it was a song she liked or a song he liked as they each enjoyed the quiet domesticity as Jo finished off the last apple fritters and Grey moved to put the tray bake of vegetables and some roasting chicken marylands to cook over the next hour for their dinner.
Jo moved the trays of finished doughnuts and fritters over to the collection of glaze bowls, and let out a laugh noticing a fourth bowl filled with melted butter and a fifth with a cinnamon sugar mix that she hadn’t put there before. Smiling softly, she dipped some of the doughnut holes into the melted butter and then tossed them gently in the cinnamon and sugar in preparation for them heated through in the morning - thinking to herself how sweet the memories of coffee, fresh fruit and soft doughnuts brought back to her from many times she’d been given the treat. Turning about, she grabbed a tupperware out to store them in as she kept moving through the doughnut holes as she could hear the other pottering about behind her as she finished off the last few doughnut holes.
“So - ready to finish these off, hun?” Jo asked quietly, turning to look over her shoulder where she could see Grey taking care to stir what would eventually be likely a gravy with dinner, raising a brow. “Or are you busy with dinner?”
“Just setting this to simmer down for a while and then I’m ready to get back to it, teach.” Grey smiled back at her as he stirred the sauce a few more times as she moved to pop the cinnamon doughnut holes in their airtight container off into the fridge to stay for the next day. He dusted off his hands as he moved to turn the heat down to a gentle simmer before moving over to the table. “What now, Jo?”
“Now it’s time to make them pretty.” “That’s a lot of pressure.” “Pretty like a Pollock then?”
Grey grinned ruefully at that, bumping his shoulder against hers as Jo stuck her tongue out at him, before letting out a yelp at his leaning down to kiss her before she’d pulled it back. Laughing, Jo tapped a finger against his nose as they both turned back to the doughnuts and fritters.
“Okay, easiest job is to just roll the fritters in the apple glaze, so I’m goin’ to let the artist do the careful chocolate dippin’ instead.” She smiled up at Grey for a second before she lifted up one of the perfectly golden brown doughnut rings to demonstrate the twisting technique to rightly coat and avoid drips as she dunked one face of the pastry into the chocolate glaze and lifted it quickly with a twist and jerk of her wrist to stop the coating from leaving an obvious drip-trail. “See? And if you do get any drips it’d be artistic rather than a fuck up like mine!”
“Yours would not be fuck ups, Jo.” Grey shook his head slightly as he looked down at her, and she found herself glancing down to focus on setting the coated doughnut down back on it’s previous resting spot rather than face the obvious meaning to the other’s words or the emotion she knew would be in his eyes. “Well, I better give this a try then…” He sounded uncertain for a moment, and Jo found herself reaching out to hold alongside him as he dipped his first doughnut before doing the twist, guiding him through the movement and hearing a chuckle from the other as there was only a small drip down one side as they set that doughnut back down. “Is that artistic enough for you, pretty one? You sure I should do these and not the fritters?”
“Practice makes perfect!” Jo chirped back at him, tapping a finger with a little of the dripped glaze to his nose before giggling at the mark. Shaking her head, she laughed louder as Grey swiped a hand over the offending mess and licked it off the top of his hand rather than let it go to waste. “I bet by the time these are all coated, you’ll be a pro at it.”
“I can try, I guess.” Grey chuckled back as he shook his head and picked up the next doughnut to be dipped.
Jo tried not to watch too obviously as she picked up the apple cider glaze and began to toss and coat the fritters in the bowl before fishing them out to rest. It wouldn’t help with the pressure if Grey thought she though he couldn’t do it or that she was watching him closely, but at the same time she liked to glance up and see the slow and then fast improvement as he got the hang of the motion and by the last half a dozen was perfectly coating the doughnuts without a single bit of overspill or wasted glaze. It was easy to finish her fritters without concern seeing just how great the other’s technique had gotten - and as she finished her last three fritters rolled about at the same time Grey finished the last of his chocolate doughnuts, Jo exclaimed happily. “See, what did I say?! Those look fantastic, hun.”
“I mean the last few maybe-” “No, no, all of them look really good.” “Even that one that I dropped and got half of the doughnut overall covered in glaze?” “Are you complain’ about the idea of more glaze?”
Grey seemed to consider for a moment before laughing. “Okay, true. I call dibs on that one.”
Laughing her agreement, Jo smiled widely - teethy and tongue pressed up sharp against them - as she moved to set the two used and empty bowls of glaze into the sink with a little water.
“Can you grab an extra fork or spoon for the pink icin’, hun?” “Sure - how are we doing this?”
Jo moved back towards the table with a roll of paper towel, and quickly slid and covered the table around the row of doughnuts on their drying rack before waving a hand at the other tray of apple fritters for Grey to move them out of the way before she covered that open spot with paper towel as well. Moving the red icing bowl, Jo added a splash of extra milk to loosen it up again from how it had started setting before she dipped the fork Grey held out into it.
“I said Pollock, didn’t I?” Jo gave another toothy grin before she pulled the fork free and then gently flung it down towards the nearest doughnut, leaving strands of red icing to cover it in splatters and lines. There was a surprised noise from next to her, and paying no mind she dipped the fork again before doing the same thing over again - mottling the top of the doughnuts under her fork’s path with splatters and lines of a soft pink across the shiny brown surface. “See?”
“That is… That is definitely very Pollock like,” Grey agreed with a slight grin as he moved to pick up the spoon at her gesturing. “Very deliberately not-deliberate, right?”
Jo nodded, smiling widely as she moved to dip her fork again and that they both began splattering and drizzling the light pink glaze over the doughnuts together, giggling and laughing and teasing the whole while. No single doughnut looked the same, and they were all the prettier for it. The one that Grey had called dibs on, Jo even leaned down secretively to draw a very lumpy heart on it as she giggled quietly to herself, and she was unsurprised as soon as he’d noticed it that more hearts started to be added across the other doughnuts all claimed to be for her dibs instead. Shoulders bumped and arms reached over each other and the whole time made Jo feel so light and airy, so different to the heavy aching emptiness from earlier.
They finished their rather ridiculous art project as the pink glaze ran out, and Grey bundled up the paper towel that was splattered and kept everything else clean while Jo moved to rinse out and soak the icing bowl and utensils with the others. Packing away the apple fritters but leaving two out after Jo had batted her eyelashes until Grey finally agreed that one fritter before dinner wouldn’t ruin their appetites, she moved the two onto a plate as Grey grabbed the containers necessary to store the other doughnuts for later once the icing had dried for them to be stored.
“Dinner’s still another hour away, right hun?” Jo asked innocently as she fiddled with the plate as the other moved to get some drinks from the fridge.
Grey hummed in agreement as he collected a can of soda for each of them - more likely both for Jo as she always finished hers first in no time - and turned to look at her mischievous look. The smile on his face twisted into disapproval and then a grin as Jo smirked back picking up one of the heart covered doughnuts that wasn’t his and took a giant bite out of it, giggling loudly. “Jo! We agreed on one!”
Jo took another two large bites quickly, her mouth pulled into a tight lipped but cheeky grin - cheeks full of sweet, fluffy doughnut sticking out like a chipmunk - before she chewed quickly and cheekily mumbled out - “One fritter!”
The disbelief and them affectionate shaking of the other’s head was all the answer she did expect, and she had to focus on chewing carefully and swallowing her mouthful despite the wide grin she knew she had as Grey’d moved over to take a big bite of the doughnut himself before tapping her on the nose with the end of it as he wrapped an arm around her. This was what she’d been missing as she was pulled into a sugary sweet kiss that was softer and made her feel lighter and airier than even their perfect doughnuts before they set off to the lounge for another episode of Doctor Who before dinner.
Following after him, their banter light and freeing in it's playfulness as Grey started to compliment how good her dough was and Jo equally batted back that his dough and frying was so much better, she couldn't help but feel like things were righting themselves again. That heaviness of her troubles fading away, soothed and teased and gently coaxed away under the caring gentle treatment and the sweet attentions. The way she had felt a gaping hole inside after she'd worked so hard to cut away those feelings that held her back was being filled in again - slowly - with those gentle touches and sweet remarks that made her heart ache in all the best ways. This, this was how she would feel light again.
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