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haidyn-reeves · 4 years

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Lie to Me

Summary: The classic truth spell trope with a wicked twist.

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4948

Warnings: Dean’s an asshole. Angst makes the world go ‘round. Insecurities briefly mentioned. Did I mention Dean’s an asshole? Fluff if you squint.

A/N: I’m back! This is my entry for @jawritter‘s Make Me Cry challenge and @deanwanddamons 2k Celebration! My prompts are in bold. I hope y’all enjoy!

It was no secret that Dean had changed since he took the Mark of Cain. He was more reckless than normal, which only progressed after taking out the entire Stine family for what they did to Charlie and almost did to Y/N. Y/N was in the bunker when the Stines invaded, resorting to hiding in one of the trunks of the classic cars in the garage to stay safe. Once Dean left Castiel bloody and battered in the library, he raced to the garage, having told Y/N not to move until he came for her. When he found her, his features only softened once he saw how terrified she was of him; the amount of blood covering his clothes and hands was enough to turn her stomach. Y/N, as usual, did her best to clean up the older Winchester, using it as a way to distract her from what happened only hours prior. When it was time to say goodbye to Charlie, Y/N separated herself from the brothers, the tension between them so thick you needed a chainsaw to cut through. Dean tossed some heated remarks to Sam and Y/N sank to the muddy ground, furious that this was happening in front of the pyre that held their dear friend. Dean stormed off and Sam came around to help her up, the pair watching the bow-legged hunter climb into his Impala and drive away.

Dean was angry, and the only way he knew how to release that anger was to hunt and kill whatever he could. He scoured the news, desperate to find something he could take down, preferably alone. He couldn’t look at Sam, blaming his brother for the death of his surrogate sister. He didn’t want to bring Y/N with him, he just wanted to drive, hunt, and kill.

Dean found a case, one that would hopefully settle the Mark’s need for blood and his own anger. The fact that it was a witch was an added bonus.

He left in the middle of the night when Sam and Y/N couldn’t try to stop him or tag along. He felt a little bad leaving Y/N behind but the Mark stung too badly for him to care at the moment. He wouldn’t be gone long, the case was only two states over, he’d back soon enough.

In the bunker, Y/N was pissed that Dean was ignoring her calls. Sam expected it, he knew how angry Dean was, so he expected for his brother to ignore him, but Y/N? He adored her, for Dean to ignore her was unlike him. Y/N was confused, she wasn’t part of the plot to save Dean, Sam explicitly kept her out of the loop because he knew asking her to sneak behind Dean’s back was out of the question. She was loyal to the older Winchester, to a fault, and asking her to go against his wishes was more than even Sam could muster.

Ever since the Stines invaded and killed Charlie, Y/N was thinking about her feelings for Dean. She called him immediately when they broke the door down and he’s the one who instructed her to hide in the garage; it was a plan the two agreed on for these situations. While she was hiding in the trunk of one of the vintage vehicles, all she could think about was that she could die and never be able to tell Dean how she felt. She decided then that she’d tell him, and soon. That’s why she was so upset that he left without telling her, it just prolonged her getting everything out in the open.

While the two waited in the bunker for Dean’s return, Dean handled the witch with ease. She tried at the last minute to hit him with what he assumed was a spell of sorts, but the witch killing bullet was in her before she could finish the incantation. He felt better, the Mark’s hunger was satiated, and there was one less witch causing trouble. A win all around, in his book.

Y/N was sitting in the library researching when the bunker door opened three days later. She was trying to keep the hurt and the anger at bay, still upset that Dean was ignoring her for reasons she couldn’t figure out while she was ready to tell him how she felt. Sam was out grabbing dinner, she assumed it was him.

“That was fast,” she remarked, getting up to help him unpack, until she was face to face with Dean. “Oh, not Sam. Welcome home.” She moved to greet him with a hug, only for him to step back out of her reach. Her face fell, Dean never rejected her touch, even with the Mark. “Dean?”

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, “I hate it when you throw yourself at me like that.”

“You…what? Since when?”

“Since forever. Just shows how clingy you are.”

Y/N stared in shock before letting her eyes cast to the floor, the heat in her cheeks so warm coupled with his venomous glare that she was growing physically uncomfortable before him. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t realize…I thought we…I thought you and I…“

“What? You thought there was something here?” Dean motioned between the two of them. “Far from it.” He looked her over, his eyes running over her figure. “You think I’d ever want you?”

“I…I thought m-maybe…”

“Well I don’t. I don’t even want you here.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered, knowing if she was really that unwelcome, he’d have no problem kicking her out.

“True? You want the truth? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t handle the truth. But I’ll give it to you. Don’t you think if I wanted you, I’d have done something by now? You’re just another burden that was dumped on me that I didn’t ask for.” He paused, circling the war table, Y/N visibly shaking before him as she tried to keep herself composed, though it was obvious she was already broken at his words. “You’re always in the way, you know? You’re one more person I have to protect on hunts, since you’re not exactly reliable these days. Maybe if you were in shape you’d be less of a liability, then I wouldn’t have to constantly be saving your sorry ass-“

“Dean!” Sam barked, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Y/N hadn’t even heard him come in, the blood was pounding in her ears as she fought back tears, refusing to cry in front of Dean for fear he’d throw that in her face, too. He already implied she was fat, using her biggest insecurity against her, she didn’t need him throwing another one her way.

“What? I’m just saying,” Dean shrugged.

“You don’t just say that,” Sam glared before shooting a knowing look to Y/N, nodding his head towards the kitchen. She took the hint and all but ran out of the room. “What the hell could she have said to make you say that to her? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“She’s just annoying, another mouth to feed, a cockblock at the bar. We don’t need her here bringing us down. I wish she’d just leave.”

“Do you even hear yourself? That’s Y/N. She’s done more for us than anyone else has. She takes care of us when we’re sick and hurt, she puts up with our shit, specifically all of your shit and you…what the fuck Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes, picking up his bags and turning to leave the room. Sam watched in disbelief before joining Y/N in the kitchen finding her with her head in her hands at the table. “Hey, hey, shhhh,” he whispered, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his arms. She sobbed harshly into his flannel.

“He h-hates me,” she cried, the words muffled against his shirt. Sam shook his head, furious with his brother.

“He doesn’t, he couldn’t.” He rubbed her back soothingly, gently rocking her from side to side. “That wasn’t my brother.”

“I…I d-don’t understand,” she whimpered, sniffling.

“What exactly happened? Can you tell me?”

Y/N sat up slightly, wiping the tears off her cheeks and taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I thought he was you, I said hello, went to hug him. He backed up and when I tried to see what was wrong, he just started in on me.” She looked down. “I was finally ready to tell him, Sam.”

His eyes widened, knowing exactly what she meant. “Oh fuck no,” he muttered, pulling her back into his embrace. “Something must’ve happened while he was gone…but even then he had no right to talk to you like that. For everything that he’s been through, even with the Mark, he’d never, ever, talk to you like that. If it was anyone else, they’d be dead. If he could’ve heard himself…“ Sam stopped, shaking his head in anger. “Something’s not right.”

“Am…am I clingy, Sam?” Y/N asked quietly, Dean’s words echoing in her head.

“God, no, Y/N. You’re not. A few hugs and cuddles here and there doesn’t make you clingy.” Sam smiled sadly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You are one of the best things to happen to Dean and me. You look after us, keep this place running, you help with hunts and research. You’re incredibly important to us and you’re a part of this little family, regardless of what my brother said. I love you, he loves you…hell, the real him adores you. You’re the little sister I always wanted, I always want you around. You’re not a cockblock or another mouth to feed and you certainly don’t bring us down. You build us up and help us keep going, every day. And before you say anything, no, there is nothing physically wrong with you, so please don’t get back into that headspace. You’re doing so well, don’t let this bring you back into that dark place. I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N smiled weakly, eyes brimming over with tears at Sam’s reassurance. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. “How about you go take a bath and relax a bit while I try to figure out what’s going on, okay?”

She nodded and he squeezed her in another hug before letting her go, watching her leave the kitchen and make her way towards her room, which was unfortunately next to Dean’s. Y/N tiptoed passed his room, terrified of doing anything to set him off on her again. Once in the safety of her bedroom, she gathered her comfiest pajamas, slippers, and her favorite bath soap to bring to the bathroom. She set those items aside, rummaging for her duffle. She didn’t like being so close to Dean after what happened, so she decided to throw her necessities and some clothes into the bag, topping it with her favorite pillow and blanket. She knew the bedroom next to Sam’s was empty, for now she’d make that her room until she felt comfortable being around the older hunter again.

On the way to the bathroom, Y/N dropped her bag, blanket and pillow into the spare room, closing the door behind her before heading into the private, smaller bathroom in the bunker. She turned the water on in the tub, adjusting the temperature before plugging the drain and adding her bath soap before shedding her clothes and sinking into the water below the bubbles.

Down the hall and a few twists and turns away, Sam was making his way to Dean’s room, having already sent a quick prayer to Castiel in hopes he could help him figure out what was wrong with his brother.

“Sam,” Castiel greeted with a flutter of his wings, “what’s going on?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Something’s wrong with Dean, I don’t know what but the way he just lashed out at Y/N tells me it’s bad.” They stopped outside Dean’s door, Sam knocking hard three times before opening the door, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

“Get out,” Dean growled, ripping his headphones off his ears.

“Not until you tell me what happened when you were gone to make you come back a grade A douchebag,” Sam shot back.

“Nothing happened, now get out.”

“Dean, you’re not yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Dean glared, his eyes on Castiel.

“The Dean I know never would’ve said what he did to Y/N, so that’s bullshit,” Sam argued.

“She had it coming,” he shrugged. Sam’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared with anger. “Oh, calm down.”

“You know what Dean? Maybe you should leave for a while,” Sam started, advancing towards Dean, “sort your shit out.”

Dean rose from his bed, glowering at his little brother. “You’re really gonna kick me out? For her?”

Before Sam could respond, Castiel took the opportunity to move around Sam, placing his fingers to Dean’s forehead to see if he could use his grace to identify the problem. “He’s under a spell.”

“A spell? What kind of spell?” Sam asked, looking between the angel and the thoroughly pissed off hunter.

“I’m not sure, but it’s there, clinging to him.” Castiel pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead again to try and ease him a bit to get him to cooperate better. Dean sat back down on his bed, a little more relaxed.

“Dean, you have to tell me what happened when you were gone,” Sam pleaded.

“I was on a hunt, it was a witch.”

“Do you remember anything that she said?”

“She was chanting something but I killed her before she could finish.”

“Or maybe you didn’t,” Sam sighed. “I’ll call Rowena, see if she can maybe give use insight as to what kind of spell the witch used.” He pulled out his phone before looking at his brother again. “You stay the hell away from Y/N, got it? You’ve done enough damage.”

“I’ll watch him,” Castiel offered, Sam nodding in agreement before shooting his brother one last look and heading to the library, dialing Rowena’s number.

“Samuel,” she answered.

“Rowena, I need your help.”

“You seem to be needing a lot of that lately, Samuel. And yet you’ve done nothing for me in return.”

“I’m working on it,” he responded curtly, “the quicker you get to the bunker, the faster I finish the deal. It’s about Y/N.”

The witch sighed, having developed a soft spot for the girl. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there soon.”

After her bath, Sam informed Y/N that Rowena was coming and that there was some sort of spell involved. Y/N cringed at his brother’s name, her body tensing. Sam explained that he knew the spell wasn’t an excuse for what Dean said to her, but it helped piece a few things together. Y/N just wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at the hunter the same way again.

Until Rowena arrived, Y/N stayed in her new bedroom, locked away from everyone but Sam. He brought her meals, knowing she wasn’t up to wandering the bunker halls and risking the chance of running into Dean. As strong as he knew she was, even he didn’t think she’d be able to handle another run-in with the older hunter.

Two days later, Rowena made her way down the steps of the bunker. Sam did his best to fill her in on what little information he got from Dean, which was a terrible pronunciation of whatever the young witch chanted at him, plus the crap attitude he’d been exhibiting ever since, including what he said to Y/N.

“But here’s the thing, I know my brother and I know how he feels about her, and it’s…it’s like everything he said to her is the exact opposite of what he’s ever said to me about her. He’s said some pretty fucked up things in his life, even to me, but to her? He’d never. It doesn’t make sense, he said the witch didn’t even finish the spell.”

“Perhaps your brother changed his mind.”

“Rowena, no. Cas was able to detect the remnants of a spell that seems to be stuck to him. That’s why I need your help, I don’t know what spell it could be.”

“Your brother, he possesses the Mark of Cain, correct?” Sam nodded. “Then whatever spell she cast…the Mark in a way protects the person who bears it. The person can’t die, as you know. In this case, it sounds like the Mark warped the spell that was thrown at Dean and it’s now sticking to him instead of wearing off like it normally would after a few days.”

“But what kind of spell? A truth spell wouldn’t make him say all that…”

“No, but the Mark could twist a truth spell into making him lie, instead. Do you know anything about the witch?”

“She was casting truth spells and tearing couples apart around town,” Dean answered, making his presence known as he entered the war room. “She was angry that her husband had an affair and she took it out on everyone else.”

Sam groaned. “So that’s it. It was a truth spell but the Mark made you lie instead of actually tell the truth.”

Rowena rolled her eyes, “and turned you into quite the dick.” Dean shot a glare at the red-head, ready to bark a nasty reply when Sam stepped between the two.

“You don’t speak unless we ask you to,” he ordered, staring down his brother. Dean’s eyes widened before he cocked a brow, smirking.

“You don’t think there’s more I could say to you this time?”

“I don’t care what you say to me, I know it isn’t you. But Y/N? She’s off limits.”

“Too late for that-“

“ENOUGH,” Rowena yelled, both hunters jumping in surprise, “now, Samuel, you can fetch me these ingredients and Dean, well, you can sit down and keep your mouth shut.”

As Sam went to the storage room to gather the ingredients needed for the spell to reverse the one stuck to Dean, Rowena followed him to Y/N’s makeshift room, knocking on the door.

“Go away,” Y/N answered pitifully.

“Someone’s here to see you, honey,” Sam answered, “its safe, I promise.” He unlocked her door and left her and Rowena alone while he went to find her supplies. Y/N sat up on her bed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the witch.

“Hi,” she smiled weakly, moving over on her bed to make room for the witch.

“Oh darlin’, Auntie Rowena will fix it,” she soothed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “You see, Dean was hit with a truth spell, but because he bears the Mark, the spell backfired and made him lie instead. Sam’s fetching me the ingredients I need for a reversal to get rid of the spell that’s clinging to him because of the Mark.”

“So…all the things he said…”

“I’m guessing whatever he wanted to say, he said the opposite. Apparently the witch was cheated on by her husband and due to her anger she took it out on everyone, especially men, and cursed them to tell the truth. But in Dean’s case, he was cursed to lie.”

“And be a douche,” Y/N muttered. “He said some awful things, Ro.”

“The man’s not exactly kind on a good day if you’re on his bad side,” Rowena noted. “I’ll fix him. He’s going to remember everything and run in here and apologize, you’ll see.”

“I’m not sure I can look at him, I mean, he was so cold…so brutal. If I look at him that’s all I’ll see.”

“I think once he realizes what he said and how badly he hurt you, you’ll see a side of him you’ve never seen before. Dean’s very protective of you, we all know it, so once he realizes he’s the one who hurt you, he’s gonna be devastated. You just have to remember, it wasn’t him.”

Y/N nodded, though still apprehensive. Rowena smiled warmly, patting her legs before leaving the room to see if Sam found everything. Y/N curled back up under the covers, thinking about what Rowena said. Knowing that a spell made him say those things made her feel the smallest bit better, but it was still replaying in her head since it happened. She could still see Dean’s look of disgust and hear the hatred dripping off his tongue. The idea of facing him, even after he was cured of this spell, still terrified her.

In the library, Dean was sitting at one of the tables nursing his whiskey while Rowena and Sam worked on the spell. Cas was on standby, ready to intervene if Dean got out of hand somehow and also to see if the lingering spell faded.

Minutes later, Rowena was chanting the incantation for the reversal, Sam and Cas on either side of Dean as a precaution. A beat passed before Dean’s stoic expression faded and his eyes glowed green. Rowena sighed with relief and Cas pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, nodding. The spell worked, Dean was back to normal.

And oh, what a crash it was.

Dean blinked a few times, looking around at their worried faces as he registered what had happened. When he realized who was missing in the room, his eyes widened as it all came flooding back like a movie scene in his head.

“Where is she?” He choked, a wave of panic washing over him as he realized the magnitude of what he said to her.

“You remember?” Dean looked at Sam, shame and regret on his face.

“Everything.”

“She’s in the room next to mine, just go easy on her, Dean. You really did a number on her.” Dean nodded, hastily leaving the library and racing down the bunker halls until he got to the room Y/N was in. He took a deep breath before knocking softly.

“Come in,” she called, voice quiet. Dean turned the knob slowly, opening the door to find her curled up on the bed. The blatant fear on her face didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, the grimace leaving a sharp pain in his chest.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “we need to talk.”

“I think you’ve said enough,” she answered, less bite in her reply than she would have liked.

“That…that wasn’t me, you know I’d never-“

“I thought I did, Dean. But that…even with a spell…,” She looked away from him, shaking her head. Dean’s face fell, eyes filling with tears. He really fucked up and it wasn’t even his fault this time.

“Y/N, I swear on Sam’s life, I didn’t mean a single word that I said to you that night. That wasn’t me talking, that was the spell. It’s like everything I wanted to say to you came out the complete opposite, the Mark completely took over and I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean paused, slowly making his way to her bed. When she didn’t object, he sat down by her feet.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” he begged. Y/N looked up from the spot she was fixated on on the floor, her eyes meeting his teary ones. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, you are perfect exactly the way you are. I wouldn’t be able to go on day after day without you supporting me. You aren’t a burden and I never want you to leave even though I think you deserve better than this life. Selfishly, I can’t let you go. You make this place feel like a home and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re not clingy…you mean so much to me, Y/N. I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how much I hate that I’ve hurt you. I’m supposed to protect you and you’re…you’re scared of me.”

“You looked at me with such hate,” she whispered, cringing. “I can’t unsee it no matter how hard I try.”

“Sweetheart, I could never hate you,” Dean breathed, “not when I’m too busy loving you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You…what?”

“When I got back that night you said you thought there was something between us and I told you there wasn’t because of the spell’s influence. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve agreed with you. There’s always been a different connection between you and I. I don’t see you as a little sister the way Sam does. I know what I said, but Y/N, how could I not want you?”

Y/N blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “Uh, well, for starters, look at me.”

“I’m always looking at you. I think you’re beautiful exactly the way you are. You take care of me, you put up with my shit, and you’re my best friend. I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

“Dean…I-“

“You don’t have to say it back. I put you through hell, I don’t expect you to feel that way about me anymore.”

“No, I do, and that’s been the hardest part.”

Dean smiled sadly, reaching out to cup her cheek. “If you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life, however long that is, proving to you that I mean everything I just said.”

“It wasn’t you,” she whispered, “you don’t have to.”

“But I’ll do it if it means you’ll forgive me.” He wiped a few stray tears off her cheek, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. “Can I hold you?” He asked meekly, biting his lip. She nodded into his palm before getting scooped up in a hug, her face buried in his neck as Dean finally broke, tears landing in her hair. “I’m so sorry,” he cried, squeezing her to him.

“Dean,” she mumbled, her lips against his skin sending shivers down his spine. “Please don’t cry.” She rubbed his back softly, trying to soothe him. She didn’t expect this.

“I hate this thing so much,” he muttered, her eyes casting down to his forearm where the Mark was hidden by his henley sleeve. “All it does is make me angry and it’s getting harder and harder to control it, especially after…”

“I know,” she nodded, knowing he meant Charlie and the Stines. “That whole thing…that’s what made me want to tell you how I felt about you. Waiting for you in the trunk of the car felt like an eternity and I knew I would be okay as long as you got to me. I always feel safe when I’m with you, Dean, always. But I was so scared that they’d find me first and I’d die before getting to tell you. You were so angry and it felt wrong to tell you right after we lost Charlie, but I gathered the little confidence I had while you were gone-“

“And then I came home under a spell and said what I said.” Dean sighed, his grip tightening on her. “When you called me and told me the Stines broke in, Y/N, I’ve been in awful situations like that before with Sam but this…this felt so different. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, not until I saw you and knew you were okay. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion, no matter how fast I drove.” Y/N shuddered at the memory, digging herself deeper into Dean’s chest, face pressed against his neck. She inhaled deeply, relaxing as his scent that can only be described as Dean calmed her senses. “You’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered, kissing her hair. He laid them down on her bed, tucking her under his chin.

“Dean,” she whispered, fisting his henley.

“Yeah baby?”

“I do love you, you know.” She could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest.

“I maybe had a small feeling, or at least hoped I was reading everything right.” He ran his fingers through her hair gently, breathing in her shampoo. “Will you give me a chance to make it all up to you?”

She pulled back to look up at him, cupping his cheek. He nuzzled against her palm, eyes locked on hers as his stubble tickled her skin. “Of course, handsome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to her palm as she blushed. She couldn’t stay mad at Dean, never was able to. But knowing how he truly felt about her, that everything that happened was the work of a witch, she knew she couldn’t hold a grudge. That wasn’t her Dean, the man who sang her back to sleep when her nightmares took over even though he hated singing to anyone but Baby’s steering wheel. The man looking at her so intently, holding her so tightly, this was her Dean. “And Dean?”

“Sweetheart?”

“I forgive you,” she smiled, Dean’s eyes softening as he let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling her impossibly closer. He kissed her forehead and her nose before softly kissing her lips, pulling back and brushing his nose against hers. Dean knew what happened wasn’t his fault, and Y/N may have forgiven him anyway, but he fully intended on spending the rest of his life, however long it may be, making sure she knew just how much he loved her, and doing his very best to deserve someone as incredible as her.

#jensmakemecrychallenge #deanwanddamons2kcelebration #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction

248 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

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A heavenly reunion pt. 2; Queen x reader

*Author's note*

And here's the last part of our last chapter of the Rock Angel series.

First of all I just wanna thank ALL OF YOU for your support. This was the FIRST fic I wrote that got me into the Queen/BoRhap fandom and (much like my Bad Wolf series) "Set it all free" was just gonna be a one-time oneshot. But YOU, the people on tumblr inspired me to make this into a series, so thanks to you guys for your lovely support of this series, cause without you, I don't know if I would've continued on after a few chapters till it might've caught up with "Set it all free". But thank you all, you guys are BEYOND AWESOME and I love each and every one of you.

Until the next update :)

ALSO LISTEN TO THE MUSIC CHOICES BELOW. CAUSE THIS PART IS A HEART-PULLER/TEAR-JERKER.

*Final ROCK ANGEL taglist (sniffles sadly)*

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@sparkleslightlyy

@starswin

@onebigfangirlworld

@labessieisallama

@naturalswifty89

@5sos-wdw

@isabella-bby

@ssa-sadboi

@bohemiansweede

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

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"(Y/n), (y/n)." I felt someone shake my arm gently trying to wake me up. I looked up and I turned to see Brian sitting by my bedside.

"What Bri?" I tiredly groaned.

"Come downstairs with me, there's someone else the guys and I want you to meet."

"Do I have to get dressed?"

"I think you'll be just fine love. C'mon." He helped me get up and wrapped an arm around my shoulders guiding me down the stairs since I was still bloody tired.

We soon arrived in the piano room right where I had first met David and Elton. The first thing I notice was the other three queens all grinning at me, like they were keeping something from me but wanted to tell me.

"What's going on here?" I asked wearily.

"Darling, as I'm sure Brian told you, we have some people we'd like you to meet." Freddie spoke up.

"Guys if it's any of the singers that have long passed before my time, I think I met them all last night at the concert."

"Well these two are artists you haven't met." He finished for me. At this point I was confused. It was then Roger spoke up.

"It took us several meetings with the 'Big man' himself, to allow you to meet these two who have been waiting an eternity to see you again."

"Again?" I asked. They all smiled widely at each other and that's when Deacy opened up the slide in door and two figures came walking in.

PLAY VIDEO

Two figures I had not seen, in a very, very, very long time. The man looked to be in his mid-30's with shoulder length (h/c) and (e/c) eyes, he was semi built not overly muscular but not quite twig-like thin. The woman was around her early 30's if not late 20's the youngest being 28 with midback (h/c) and bright (e/c).

"Again." The man said. I was gaping, my body froze and I felt like collapsing there crying hysterically.

For standing there before me were none other than my parents.

"We've been waiting a long time for you (Y/n)," my mum started off.

"It's been far too long but now you're finally here." I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes began to fill with tears as I choked out.

"After all this time you two were both here just waiting for me to finally arrive just so that I can fall to the ground and cry hysterically. Dreaming of the day when I—I would try to figure out what to say to you both when I would see you if I ever saw you. And now it—it's finally happening. You two standing before me....." as I spoke, both my parents slowly walked toward me with soft eyes. "And I can't even......I just can't believe it. You two are actually here?"

"Yes my darling little cub, every day for your whole life." My mum said as she cupped my face in her hands. Tears of happiness glistened in her eyes as she praised me through a lump in her throat, "And we are so, so proud of you." I looked down but she still kept hold of my face.

"Oh mummy, daddy!" My mum immediately hugged me as tight as she could as we both wept. I nuzzled my face into her chest as she held onto me so tightly while stroking through my hair.

*3rd Person POV*

As they watched the two women hug each other, Freddie and Deacy who stood side by side each other couldn't help but have their hands over their hearts at such a moment. They all have heard the stories of her parents and whatever photos she had saved back home, so they knew what her parents looked like.

But now finally seeing (Y/n) reunite with the parents she had lost at such a young age, forced to being verbally abused by her aunt and uncle it was just heartwarming yet heartbreaking to see this touching and well-earned reunion.

After being tightly embraced and kissed beyond oblivion by her mum, (Y/n) felt a hand at her shoulder and saw it was her dad. He smiled and allowed his tears to fall as he embraced his daughter.

Roger and Brian, being the father figures for her down on earth were all smiles and teary eyed at seeing their surrogate daughter finally reunited with her real father once more. They had the privilege to help protect her in her young adult life, but they knew they'd never compare to the actual love this man had for his little girl.

(F/n) cupped his daughter's face gently in his strong, calloused hands and wiped away his daughter's tears before giving her a kiss on the nose, like he's done in the past. A move that Brian never knew her own father did, but was honored to have given (Y/n) a piece of affection that her real father had done.

By the end of it all, (Y/n) ended up sandwiches between her parents by the end as they were now on their knees. Her head buried into her father's chest as his arms were wrapped around her back while her mum rested her head against her daughter's and had her arms wrapped around her daughter's waist. (F/n) looked up at the four band members and said gratefully.

"Thank you." The four queens nodded and Deacy said.

"We'll give you three some privacy."

"No, please stay!" (Y/n) whimpered out. "I want my whole family here right now." At hearing that statement, who were the boys to deny their Rock Angel. With acceptance from the parents, the four men all got in on the group hug.

(Y/n) once more surrounded by the people that had loved her the most.

With some major convincing as well to bring her parents here to the 'Rock heaven' Queen and the Rock Angel had here, they also managed to move a quiet little cottage just up the road for (f/n) and (m/n) to live in.

When (y/n) and the boys went to visit the house, (y/n) was amazed to see that it looked exactly like her childhood home before she was forced into the hell house of her aunt and uncle. It was all the same, the tan wallpaper, the curtains, the bookshelves, the little TV, everything.

*My POV*

Wow, my parents and my boys together. I can't believe how lucky I am. Now my heaven really is the best of both worlds. And I never want to be away from it again.

We were all gathered around the dinner table for some well deserved breakfast. My mum was cooking in the kitchen with Deacy helping her out while me, my dad and Brian were setting up the table and as for Fred, Roger and my dad were out talking in the backyard.

"Breakfast is ready!" my mum called out from the window. Her and Deacy began bringing in the dishes and even Brian helped out with some of the biscuits.

"Mhm, mum this is so good. Just as I remembered breakfast being." As I took a bite of my pancakes.

"I'm glad you still love it dear. I was worried I had prepared it wrong."

"Nonsense, your cooking is superb (m/n) darling!" Freddie proclaimed.

"That's what I've always told you love." My dad said.

"You're just saying that because I was the cook of the family. Poor man can't even boil an egg without setting it on fire."

"Well that's one thing you and Rog have in common." Deacy teased.

"I got better didn't I?"

"Ten years later, the guy tried to poison us one time during our Japan tour." Brian spoke up.

"You know what Brian?" Roger started as Brian gave him a mocking look.

"Alright boys enough. No fighting at the table!" My mum scolded.

"Sorry Mrs. (l/n)." they both said. Even though they were technically older than my mum, she still had them on their toes. My mum maybe a sweetheart but I guess I inherited my fierceness from her. Screw with her and she blows up and attacks like a lioness.

"Anyways I can't tell you how proud we were of your performance last night (y/n)."

"You both saw the concert?"

"Of course. The Heaven rock and roll concert is open to everyone in heaven that has passed on. So long as you have a love for music and respect the artists that go up there, anyone is welcome to watch. And you were amazing up there love." My dad said.

"Taught her everything she knows, poor dear completely changed after I helped her gain some confidence to own the stage." Freddie said as he playfully ruffled my hair.

"Oh don't we know it, she was always such a shy girl." Mum said.

"Mum." I groaned out.

"In fact, wait right here." She stood up and went over to the bookshelf and pulled out a familiar red album book.

"Oh my god." I muttered.

"Now I have seen that you boys have been neglected in seeing your beloved Rock Angel in her childhood years."

"Mum, mum no!" I begged her. She then turned to Roger and said his name with a wide smile. "Mum, mum please don't!" It soon turned into an all breakout of me trying to take the album away before anyone could reach it, while my mum and the guys were all saying yes.

My mum and I were having a bit of tussle with her trying to give the album to Roger and me trying to stop it. But Roger soon intervened and grabbed the book and it was then I was screwed. I let out a groan and tapped out.

"Okay that's it, goodbye. I'm outta here."

"Oh no you don't, come back here dear." I was pulled back by Fred who kept me in his lap as the album was opened and the guys all either pulled pictures out from the album or passed the book along. My parents each explaining what either photo meant or how old I was in the picture.

Freddie had the picture of me petting a goat and riding a pony. He fawned over the pictures and flipped it over to see that those pictures were from my 5th birthday at petting zoo that was located on a farm about 20 miles away from our house.

"She always wanted to be a ballerina when she was 3 years old." My mum explained as Deacy soon turned a picture over to show me a picture of 3 year old me in a princess tiara and ballerina outfit and tutu. Giving me that pouty face of his almost as if saying 'look at you baby sister.'

"That girl never took that leotard and tutu off for a straight week. Even slept in it every night." I buried my face into my hands as I heard the boys laugh.

Oh god this was embarrassing!

This is why I never wanted the boys to see this album but I should've known that if my parents were in heaven, they'd have this album with them.

I don't know how long the torture was but I was relieved when it finally ended. Of course the boys kept fawning of just how adorable I was and why I kept the fact that I was such a cute child from them this long.

"Alright you all done now?" I asked impatiently as I finally stood up from Fred's lap.

"Oh come off it love, do you have any idea how long we have waited to see these pictures?" Brian stated.

"Too damn long. Now I've got eternal blackmailing against you sister dear." Deacy tormented as he came over to me and got me in a headlock and gave me a noogie.

"Mum! Deacy's trying to blackmail me!" I whined out.

"Tattletale." He grumbled.

"Now, now Deacy don't go blackmailing my daughter." My mum stated firmly as she and Brian began cleaning up the now finished breakfast plates and pans.

"Sorry Mrs. (L/n)." Deacy said. But Roger stood up and whispered something in Deacy's ear and I could see the mischief in both their eyes as they shook hands with each other.

God I only knew trouble was going to come from this, whatever it was that they had planned.

As the day went on, we were back at Garden Lodge studios merely relaxing under the warm sun out in the gardens. I was sitting with Brian and Freddie going over our next concert game plan for tonight's show.

Occasionally I was petting either Bucky or Freddie's two cats Oscar and Romeo who were lying right side by side with Bucky. While Roger and Deacy were playing frisbee with Sammy.

"Something troubling you darling?" asked Freddie. I turned toward him and Brian who were both looking at me concerned.

"I guess."

"You guess?" questioned Brian.

"This may sound silly but....how do you check in on the family and friends you've left behind?"

"You miss Jack and the kids, don't you?" Freddie said. I looked down solemnly.

"It was just so painful for them to see me as I was in my final years. I—just want to make sure they're all okay, especially Jack." They nodded and that's when Freddie said.

"There is a way. Come with me darling." He stood up and helped me onto my feet and we walked back to the house.

We were up in the basement studio and said as he stood in front of the window separating the booth and the lounge area with the controls.

"If at any time we need to see the ones we love, the way to them is through the thing we love. Touch the glass and it'll show your heart's desire." I looked at him like he was crazy but he just nodded telling me to do it. I placed my hand on the glass and said.

"I'd like to see my husband and children, please." Soon the glass shined a light and soon an image of Jack came up.

He was lying in what looked like a hospital bed and I saw our four kids surrounding him, looking like they were about to break down crying.

"Jack." I muttered sadly. "Is he....."

"I don't know darling. He may or he may not. We cannot determine that. All we can do is watch. It pains me because I had to live it so many times seeing you, the lads, David, Elton and my family pass on."

"But he promised me he'd watch out for them after I was gone."

"Guess he couldn't live without the love of his life." The image then disappeared leaving me feel empty and heartbroken. "Oh (y/n)." he softly cooed before I felt his arms wrap around me and I buried my face into his chest as I softly wept.

By around supper time we were back at my parent's place all getting ready to sit down and eat. I was sitting between my dad and Roger while in front of me was Deacy.

I was currently piddling around with my mashed potatoes suddenly not having an appetite after what I had just witnessed.

"Everything okay love?" I heard Roger say.

"Hmm." I hummed.

"Use your words baby girl, now c'mon what's going on?" asked my dad.

"I—I guess I'm not in the mood for potatoes."

"I've got a nice apple pie cooling in the kitchen." Suggested my mum.

"No thanks mum." I set my fork down and sighed solemnly as I leaned against my chair. Before any other questions could be asked we heard the doorbell ring. I felt Rog gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear before standing up giving me a gentle peck on the top of my head and heading towards the door.

I felt my dad wrap his arm around me allowing me to lean against him.

"Hey (y/n)." I heard Roger say. I looked up at my dad and he told me to go on before kissing the top of my head just like Rog did and I walked from the kitchen over to the front hallway. "Someone's here to see you." He stepped aside and standing there was Jack.

He looked about the exact age when I first met him. The short sandy blonde hair, same outfit, and those same gentle greenish-blue eyes that made my knees grow week.

"Hey (y/n)." I walked right up to him and didn't say a word. "I—god I didn't expect to be here like this but.....look at you. It's like you hadn't aged a day. I—" I gave him a firm slap across the face. He looked at me in shock and I snapped.

"I thought you promised to take care of our kids! The grandkids!"

"I'm sorry but I....when I told you on the day we sailed to Capri for our honeymoon that I would die rather than live a lifetime without you, I literally meant it. I did try to be strong but the stress of the press of them bringing you up. Hounding our children and grandchildren just....." I cut him off by cupping his face and kissing him.

He was stunned for a moment but he relaxed as I felt his arms wrap around my waist and he deepened the kiss. I felt him pick me up and spin me around along the front porch before finally setting me down.

"I've missed you." I whispered.

"I've missed you. I've missed you soo much." I could just see the pain in his eyes. He wasn't just meaning after my death. Since he's had to suffer for 3 years due to my dementia making my mind deteriorate, making me forget him most days or who our kids were. He cupped the side of my face and captured my lips once more.

"So this is the young boy who stole my little girl's heart in the end?" we were forced to separate as not only my parents but the rest of Queen now stood by the front door entrance. Jack looked at my mum and dad wide eyed and said.

"Are—are those two....."

"Jack darling, there are two very special people you haven't met yet. I'd like you to meet my mother (m/n) and father (f/n). Mum, dad this is Jack." Mum was the first one to walk up to Jack with a warm smile.

"So this is the famous Jack Kline. Let me get a good look at you," she placed her hands on his shoulders forcing him to separate from me just a bit as she observed him. She nodded and said with a warm smile, "I'm glad I can finally say this to you in person (Y/n), you definitely picked yourself a handsome young man."

"Thanks mum."

"Thank you Mrs.—"

"Please Jack we're family. Call me mum." She said as she gently cupped the side of his face. He smiled and said.

"Okay.....mom." She hugged him and even though he was at first shocked, he gladly embraced my mum back.

After their embrace he came back towards me and he whispered in my ear, "You look so much like her."

"That's what the guys have been saying all day." I whispered back.

"So glad to see you here with us Jack darling." Freddie said.

"Freddie!" Jack said happily as the two of them hugged each other. Freddie kissed both of my husband's cheeks and said.

"You've done good Jack dear. I've been watching you along with that beautiful wife of yours. And thank you for naming your last baby after me."

"It was really (y/n)'s idea. I just agreed to it. It—felt right at the time."

"Well I appreciate it nonetheless." Jack then turned to Brian who smiled at my husband and the two of them embraced each other as Brian also ruffled my husband's hair.

"Good to see you again Jack."

"And you too Brian. It wasn't the same without you. I still never got the chance to beat you at Scrabble."

"And you never will." Brian bragged.

"It's true my dear, even I have yet to beat him once again, you bastard!" Freddie pipped in. When Jack finally turned towards Deacy, I thought he was going to just breakdown.

"Jack."

"Deacy, I—is it......"

"Who else did you expect, John Lennon?" Jack softly choked out a laugh before Deacy brought him into a hug. I couldn't help but awe at the sweet reunion.

I knew Jack had waited so long to be reunited with his brother, his mentor and dearest friend.

He blamed himself after Deacy's death thinking had he been there for him more, he could've somehow prevented him from dying, even when I assured him that there wasn't anything he nor I could do.

So this was his closure, and I was happy to see that he got it.

After they separated from each other, Deacy playfully ruffed Jack's hair much like Brian did in that typical 'big brother' kind of way.

"I'm sorry. If I—had I know I could've....."

"Hey, it wasn't your fault okay Jack. Listen to me, okay? None of it was your doing. You understand that?" he nodded and embraced Deacy once more.

"I missed you Deacy."

"And I missed you too, my little protegee." It was then the only person he had yet to meet face to face was my dad.

My dad approached him and eyed him up and down as well as circled around him a few times like a lion circling its prey before going for the kill.

"I have seen everything that's happened with my little girl." He told him straight forward.

"E-everything?" Jack choked out nervously.

"Oh yes, everything. But if I had to say out of any guy that tried to win my baby girl's hand. I'm glad it was you son." It seemed to ease Jack's nervousness that was until, "and I was thankful to have another set of eyes looking after my little girl the way I would see fit of the situation, don't you agree Roger?"

"Indeed (f/n)." Roger stated smugly as the two of them clasped hands with each other.

"Dad!" I whined out which made both my real and surrogate fathers chuckle. "But we don't need to worry about this one. He's a good chap."

"Alright enough with the interrogation. Now that we have an extra guest, let's adjust the table and get him some good quality food." I smiled and we all returned back inside for a good meal and some long catching up and family bonding.

Now I won't deny it but I refuse to state that Jack finally got his wish of seeing all of my baby pictures and of course the guys wanted another look at them along with Jack as both my parents told every embarrassing story they could remember from when I was 2 till before the crash.

About a month later the theme for this coming concert was a 'cover performance'. Each artist got the chance to do an entire set based off of their own cover versions of different artists songs. The boys and I got to do songs from Bowie, Elvis, and the Beatles and right now we were gonna take things down a notch.

Brian and I stood by the piano, me sitting on top of it and he sitting at the benches.

"Right first of all we'd like to thank you all once again for coming to see us, it's really been a blast. This next song was written by the wonderful, talented and legend Diana Ross. This song was written for an animated film that hit number 1 in Japan. This is 'If we hold on together'." Brian then began playing the piano and he looked right up at me as he began the song first.

PLAY VIDEO

I joined in on the second bridge staring right back at him before the two of us joined in together in a beautiful duet. His high range angelic voice and my mellow but soft alto voice blended like a beautiful concoction.

*Brian*

Don't lose your way With each passing day You've come so far Don't throw it away

Live believing Dreams are for weaving Wonders are waiting to start *Me*

Live your story Faith, hope and glory Hold to the truth in your heart

*Both*

If we hold on together I know our dreams will never die Dreams see us through to forever The clouds roll by For you and I

Bri and I touched forehead with each other smiling lovingly at each other. The spotlight shined once again but this time on Roger as he lead the next verse gently beating on the drums before being accompanied by Freddie's voice.

*Roger*

Souls in the wind Must learn how to bend Seek out a star Hold on to the end Valley, mountain There is a fountain Washes our tears all away Waves are swaying Somebody is praying Please let us come home to stay

*Roger and Freddie*

If we hold on together I know our dreams will never die Dreams see us through to forever As clouds roll by For you and I

Freddie soon took over for a brief solo, his powerful voice moving the crowd before Rog and Bri joined in. Showing off the three voices that helped make most of the Queen songs as powerful as they were.

*Freddie*

When we are out there in the dark We'll dream about the sun *Freddie, Brian and Roger*

In the dark we'll feel the light Warm our hearts, everyone

Much like Deacy always did whenever they performed Liar, he came right up beside me up close to my mic and the two of us sung together the brief duet before the other three members joined in. And I couldn't help but wrap my arm around my big brother as the two of us sang, and I even felt his arm go around my waist as out heads touched each other's lovingly.

But as we reached the final part of the song, Freddie and Roger joined Brian, Deacy and I at the piano. The five of us coming back together as a family as our voices sung in perfect harmony.

*Me and Deacy*

If we hold on together I know our dreams will never die *All*

Dreams see us through to forever As high as souls can fly The clouds roll by For you and I

We all looked at each other before finally embracing each other in a loving group hug. I patted Roger and Deacy's backs rubbing them as the crowd roared with applause and if anyone had no heart, I'm betting everyone was probably crying, just like we all were at this very moment.

"I love you guys." I said to them into my microphone.

(A/N GO TO 1:37)

The five of us were gathered at the top of a cliffside hill right by the old oak tree with a swing set that once was near my childhood home back on Earth. We all were sat along the edge of small cliff just looking out toward the sky, speaking not a word just enjoying the company of just being together.

As the sun began to rise, the guys all looked down at me and I looked up at them. All four of them just smiling lovingly down at me. Brian pulled me up onto his lap resting his chin on my head, giving it a kiss, Roger rested his head against my left shoulder wrapped his arm around me as he nuzzled against my head kissing my cheek or temple every now and then, I soon felt two different pressures on my lap.

I looked down to see Freddie and Deacy laying head to head of each other on my lap. I stroked through their hairs and down their faces and I felt each of them kiss either my palm or the back of my hand. While they each lifted up a hand to caress my face or wipe away a hidden happy tear that wanted to escape.

This is how I wanted every post-concert performance, every day, every eternity to be like. Here with the four boys that weren't just rockstars to me, but family.

If there was anything I had to say about all of this; if you had told me to describe my life in three simple words, I would always tell you this.

Best. Internship. Ever.

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mistabullets · 4 years

Note

ok that dirty talk with fugo and the make up sex made me feel some type of way man, can you write a scenario for that? thanks homie

Riunione

Characters: Pannacotta Fugo x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It's been a while since you last saw Fugo but your reunion doesn't go out as planned.

Content Warning: n/s/f/w, aged up characters, makeup sex, coming side arguing cw, mentions of death cw, spoilers for part 5, gender neutral reader and pronouns.

Note: God, this took me ages to finish and I’m so sorry.

It had been two weeks since you last spoke to Fugo and his words still played with your mind over and over, like a record. Just thinking about him hurts and you ponder if things can easily go back to normal.

Bruno... Narancia... Abbacchio. They’re all gone.

You told him he should have come. That deciding to kick it back and remain in Naples had crushed your soul and made you questioned if he had truly loved you or your self-made family. His reasonings flew over your head, you were being sunk by a heavy heart in a sea of uncertainty. He promised to remain with you.

Of course, the blonde man proceeded to flip his shit, slamming his fist down on the table, splitting the furnished wood in half. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut, instinctively pulling away from the small destruction and the ruins of his kitchen table. “I told you it was fucking suicidal—they understood the consequences, even Narancia! You even understood that yet you went anyway, so how do you think I felt?!” This was the first time he ever yelled at you with such venom and his words poisoned you.

Before rage could further consume Fugo, he had noticed your tears swelling and his battered knuckles. And before he can say anything else, an apology for behaving in such a way, you were already grabbing for your things and heading out the door. He attempted to follow after, explaining that’s not what he meant, that was happy you were okay... but you just couldn’t tolerate being in your (ex? you didn’t know anymore) boyfriend’s presence. Before storming out of the door, you turned toward back to your former lover, wanting to have the satisfaction of saying the last words, despite it never helping.

“Fuck off, Fugo! They didn’t die in vain!” you spat one last time before slamming the door and rushing back to your vehicle. You cried all the way home as the argument looped in your head...

Your mind lingered to another realm, dissociating from the cold side of your bed which used to be filled by Fugo’s warm body. At this point, it was a waiting game; who would break first and apologize. The phone was next to you at the bedside yet you only received concerned calls from your fellow gangsters. You were disappointed to see a different number on the caller ID and found yourself longing to hear the familiar voice, rough around the edges, attempting to keep composure. But you didn’t see yourself at fault! He had said such cruel words... and that was only the tip of the iceberg, frozen around your heart with so many negative emotions, all stemming from that day. When Bruno betrayed the former don of Passione...

But you wanted to melt and thaw out your miserable heart. Even if you were hurt by Fugo’s actions, you still loved him. You missed all of the wisdom he taught you, how safe you felt by his side and the passion which danced in his lavender eyes, quietly declaring his love and adoration for you with just a look. Abbacchio would have told you to suck it and apologize, saying it sucks bottling it all up. Narancia would have attempted to be a mediator, eventually just growing frustrated. And Bruno would have given the best advice, knowing you and Fugo so well. Huffing a sigh of defeat, you reached for the phone. While things couldn’t be normal again, that’s okay.

“Not everything is going to be easy. You’re going to suffer heartbreaks, you’re going to cry, and it may feel like living hell. But despite how out of control things may seem, remember this, Y/N. You do have the will to change the outcome if you put your heart into it. Be in charge of how you resolve the conflicts within the journey of your life.” Bruno had once said, whenever you confided with him about your fears of possibly facing Fugo again.

Fingers softly clicked the familiar sequence of numbers. But before you could press dial, the phone in your hand buzzed and your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the name. Swallowing down your pride, you answered, sweat already beaming your hairline and your stomach jumping with adrenaline and anticipation.

“Hey...” came from the other line, hesitation and doubt quite obvious.

“H-Hey...” you gulped, “funny, I was just about to call you myself,” you admitted.

“R-Really?” he was surprised but he tried to hide it, not wanting to ruin his chances of seeing you again.

“Heh, yeah... anyway... what’s up?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could come over? If you want to, of course. If you need more time—“

You interrupted, “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Did you really miss me that much, tesoro?” said that familiar voice but you notice how he seemed so bewildered by your fast appearance.

It only took mere seconds to be whisked inside of Fugo’s apartment once you knocked on the door. And it only took a few more seconds to have his lips crashing down on yours, desperate and wanting to validate your existence, that you were alive and here. You couldn’t help be let out an uneven breath when you felt a warm whisper up against your ears, “I’m sorry for being such an asshole but god... I really did miss you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, wondering if you would hate me or even come back alive.”

You swear, there was a slight edge to his voice as if trying to hold back tears but before you could confirm this, kisses began littering your neck while hands eagerly grabbed for your hips to keep you anchored in the moment. Fugo led you to the bedroom, despite his needy lips burning your skin, melting into his touches. Your clothes were mostly gone by the time you fell into the soft bedding, both of you had become acquainted with each other’s bodies again. Despite the initial hurt, the heartbreak which eventually boiled into a deeply rooted resentment... you couldn’t let go, not after what you’ve been through, not wanting to lose another piece of you and have it slip away into bittersweet memories of better days. Fugo was always going to be your boy, your amore.

If he wasn’t inside you, the young man feared he may wake up and perhaps discover you were dead. Now wasn’t the time to whisper how he longed for you with filthy words of lust or rediscover the spots that made your toes curl and your fingers dig into the sheets in absolute pleasure. With haste, Fugo tore off the remainder of your clothes and allowing himself just a moment to digest that yes, this was reality and you were as beautiful as ever, even with a plethora of the scars which told the story of betrayal. “So, so beautiful... god, I’ve been wanting to fuck your brains out since I last saw you, amore.”

You gasped when you felt the tip of his cock align against your entrance and moaned from the welcoming sting of his girth as he pushed himself inside of you. Fugo groaned his obscenities along with I love you and God, I fucking missed you as he quickened his pace, enjoying how you held him tightly, with your nails digging into his back and marking him up. Rather than pounding into your heat with abandon, Fugo wanted to take his time and enjoy this reunion.

Too bad it had been so long and he already felt himself facing the brink of climax. Fugo continued his sensual fucking, making sure to grind into your sweet spot that had you seeing white stars. The hands which he had branded your lover’s skin reached for his face, wanting to see the intensity of his lavender orbs. And you saw them, along with the tears threatening to cascade down his flushed face. The young man took in your pretty (e/c) eyes, the same ones that kept the storm from brewing, that kept the tsunami at bay... now so glazed with comforting adoration as he began to ram into your tightness.

“Say my name, amore. A-Ah fuck--please...!”

“Mmph--F-Fugo, Fugo...! I-I love you!” you moaned, clamping onto his cock as orgasm fast approached.

“S-Shit, Y/N, I love you so much, I-I’m cumming!”

His hot seed painted and coated your insides as you reached your own climax, smashing your mouth against the blonde and moaning into him. You milked out his cum and felt glowing satisfaction from being so full. You whimpered as he pulled out but he cuddled up, laying his head against your chest. Tears spilled but you held him close, not ready to leave his embrace anytime soon.

God, did you miss this.

#pannacotta fugo #fugo x reader #not sfw #scenario #arguing cw #mentions of death cw #my writing #golden wind #vento aureo #jojo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #Anonymous

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duhliriouss · 4 years

Text

Joker One - Shot

Grind on Me

Based on @jokerflecker’s anon ask rollplay that got a little too REAL , I’m sorry if this is a flop. I tried writing it as fast a possible for all you horny clowns and kinda went over board 🥺

A/N: plug in those headphones! I like to add music to fics a lot and find that listening with headphones on while reading really brings in the mood ❣️ well at least for me it does (I don’t do anything without music blaring in my ears) I’m sorry if I made it too musical :/

Summary: Joker has made you sexually frustrated so you end up grinding yourself on his thigh. That’s it really except for the insanely added random stuff😅🖤

Word Count: 3,625

Warnings: Swearing, SMUT

You’ve never committed a crime in your life. You can even say that now; as you waited in Joker and yours’ shared apartment for him to come home from his daily tasks of being his clown prince self.

You always had followed him blindly after his transformation. You’ve been together for so long now. And you were okay with his new-found confidence. You were okay with him switching the gears in your relationship; he was in charge now, and thank god for that...you were never good at taking the lead anyway. Now don’t get yourself all wrong, you loved Arthur dearly before he changed. It had always made sense when you soothed his laughing attacks before bed, when you gave him a warm soothing bath and kissed his bruises tenderly to make them feel better. You would do it all over again if you had to, even if it meant to go through mountains and valleys, hell and back just to protect him from the cruel world that had ambushed him vigorously day in and day out.

But you didn’t have to anymore. Instead, the tables had turned. It was Joker now that went though hell and back to protect you. Although this time it was to save you from the consequences of his own actions, the actions that you justified each time he added a number to his kill count. He never killed for the fun of it. It was for solid reasons; They deserved it, and he shows you just how much he appreciates you every day for staying by his side. He was only blossoming, and you will blossom with him in your very own way. You’ve become more loose, not caring what others think; Dancing in the rain with your beloved after he had just blown up the bank, splashing your feet in the wet remains and ash that sprinkled down with the cold water droplets that sent chills up your spine, mingling with the adrenaline you were both high on. And you have never felt more alive.

And that’s exactly what you did in this very moment..

( Listen To: Just the Two of Us - Grover Washington )

The radio trumpeted throughout the flat. Joker would be home soon and what better way to celebrate than lighting a cigarette and letting your head boom so loud you couldn’t even think straight? It sounded great to you, as it did everyday since it had become routine. You’ve grown bored most days since you liked to stay home all curled up in just your clown shaped slippers, one of Joker’s sweatshirts and your messy (y/h/c) hair, watching the news in anticipation to possibly see what your Joker has done now.

You smiled mischievously as you lit your cigarette, bobbing your head slightly to the vibrational thumps of melody that traveled from the floorboards up to your legs.

Just the two of us

Building castles in the sky

Just the two of us

The song certainly didn’t match the gracefulness of your sun dress you decided to wear today, but you danced anyway.

You lifted up your arms above your head with the cigarette in one hand, swaying your body back and forth and singing along, with your head held up high. The twilight sky seeped though the opened window, turning your living room into a lush blue hue, illuminating your already light blue floral adornment while darkening the rest of the flat into darker shades of purple contours.

You boogied and let yourself free, your body finding its way to each corner of the flat. You kept your eyes closed for the most part, letting yourself feel the strains and chords of the day, melting into a simple bliss of song. You moved your fragile, elegant body in ways that would be hard for anyone to keep their eyes off of; especially Joker, since he was already silently watching you from the doorway that led straight to the living area. You kept going, completely oblivious to his presence that had been muffled to the unnecessary loud music that seemed like it could shake the whole damn building.

He moved his forearm against the opened door frame, getting himself more comfortable as he watched you in complete amusement. This was clearly a routine for him too. He enjoyed nothing more than coming home and catching you in the act at your most tasteful state. He was infatuated by the way you’ve changed, with your afresh freedom that he created for you. For the both of you.

He started to tap his foot, his green oceans flicking back and forth as to follow your every move. His red painted lips turned upwards into a wicked smirk, nodding his head with chuckles escaping his throat.

“And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you”

Joker sang out loud to you. You wiped your body around to find him leaned lazily against the door frame. Pure excitement boiled up your spine to the site of his return as you smiled broadly. Joker’s eyes twinkled to your contagious, beaming grin, causing his smile to grow even wider. You lifted your arms outward with your cigarettes still in your hand as you sung back:

“We can make it just the two of us!”

The saxophone that played in the song had begun as Joker swayed his way over to you, graceful in his bouncing steps, pulling his hands in front of his face in a silly attempt to fake-play the instrument. He kept going in a desperate plead to make you laugh until he was up close to you. And oh did it work. You couldn’t get enough of his absurdity. You laughed audibly over the fading out music, flicking your cigarette to the ash tray by the table that laid next to you so you could stretch out your open arms for a well needed embrace.

“There’s that laugh” Joker cracked out lovingly.

He reached in for your welcoming embrace and held you for what felt like forever. The only sounds now just being the radio talk show host:

“And there you have it folks. Our next song here will get that fog out of your brains. We are all disheartened from all the terrible riots that have been happening all over here in Gotham. So wind down, grab a glass of wine, and kick back to this one..”

(Listen To: Come and Get Your Love - Redbone)

“I’ve missed you” you breathed as you clung to his red suit.

“Shhh, I fucking love this song”

“Wha—“

“Shh” he hissed again “dance with me love”

You complied with a over dramatic eye roll along with a smirk as Joker grabbed your hips and gently started to move your body along with his own. He didn’t even give you any time to take in more of his scent or even be greeted with his usual array of kisses that he leaves all over your face and chest. Once there was music involved, no matter where or what time of day, Joker was clearly unable to contain himself from boogieing down and giving his full attention to anything else. You didn’t care however...actually, you fucking loved it. Nothing was hotter to you than watching him dance. Music or no music. It didn’t matter. His moves would never look as good on anyone else but himself. It sent you in a trance and always sent sparks of butterflies up your core. Actually, it was even more hot when he dances up against you; especially to music like this that forced the both of you to rub up against each other, other than the usual slow dancing and floor dips. Dancing to songs like this made you desire more of him. His confidence dripping off like pure honey, drizzling off the spoon.

Joker spun you around so your back was flush against his chest. He crossed your arms in front of your own chest and kept hold of your forearms as he moved his own hips back and forth, grinding against you. His unruly green locks bounced against the back of his shoulders enticingly. You followed along matching his rhythm, leaning your head back slightly so you can look up at his authentic, painted features. A smile plastered on your face as Joker leaned down and kissed the front of your exposed neck. You both continued to dance back and forth.

The bass that reverberated the entire building enveloped the moans that cracked out of your throat when he forced his tongue out to lap at the sensitive skin. Joker didn’t have to hear it to know what he was doing to you. He actually smirked against the pulsing point of your throat as it quickened. He could also feel the vibrations from your throat too as you whimpered.

“Heeyy“ He sung against your neck, you could feel his hot breath as his face nuzzled against you.

“Heeyy” you replied for the next verse. You both kept your eyes closed, both very aware of each other’s giddy, foolish smiles.

You gasped internally as Joker brought his mouth up to your ear, tucking a strand behind it as he spoke:

“I know what this does to you. I can feel your legs trembling”

“Then do something about it.” you teased back, making sure to keep the innocence in your voice as you spoke softly, though you couldn’t hide the shudder that ran through your body to his words.

Joker hummed in response. Your bodies just kept moving in a silent game of who can make the other give in first. It was Joker’s turn as he let go of your crossed arms and slid his rough hands down the seem of your dress, stopping at the front of your hips and grabbing down. Your breath hinged, cursing internally to yourself for telling him long ago that this was your sensitive spot.

Your heat was starting to drip to the inside of your thighs, you swallowed hard in anticipation of realizing it was now your turn. But before you could even think of what to do to get him going, the music ended.

“That’s alright” you thought to yourself. “I don’t need music to win”.

Apparently you did as you realized Joker had let go of you now. You stayed facing away from him for a few seconds as the talk show host invaded the silence that resided the room. You turned around to meet his gaze which you thought was right behind you, but instead watched as he was actually over in the kitchen area, pouring 2 glasses a wine for the both of you.

“Hey! That’s not fair! It was my turn!”

He seemed to ignore your clamor but held a small, smug grin which didn’t seem so small with that exaggerating, red stained smile. He made his way over with the 2 wine glasses, passing one over to you. You snatched it out of his hands, waiting for an explanation on leaving you this flustered.

“Your turn for what darling? I can’t dance all night. And besides..” he paused to reach down to the coffee table, grabbing his cigarette and lighting it. “That radio guy was really making me crave some wine”

Your lips parted slightly in bewilderment. Joker on the other hand took a long drag off his cigarette, looking deep into your dilated pupils. He was eating up all of your sweet reactions, it was such a drug to him, watching you be a writhing, flustered mess. You were completely unaware of the fact that this was still Joker’s turn. And he was winning. You never stood a chance and deep down you knew better.

You didn’t move and kept your eyes locked on him as he gave you a half chuckle. He held his cigarette with his mouth while he walked passed you to get to the tv, switching it on before making his way back to the couch. You turned to get out of his way but stayed standing still with the wine glass in your hand. You were feeling rather speechless on what to do or say next. Joker sat down gently on the couch as to not spill his brim-filled beverage. He kept his legs spread out and reached out his arms to the back of the couch lazily. He stared at you for a moment again, so you crossed your arms childishly and formed your lips into a pout.

“Yes?” You asked.

“I can’t see the T.V doll, could you move for me?”

His words stung straight to your chest. You were still completely unaware of his little game, prudishly under his control and he knew it. This was only making him radiate even more confidence. You stepped out of his way and stood to the side. You held your glass of wine with both hands, as if suddenly forgetting how to properly hold it due to how unnerved you were still feeling. You were extremely frustrated with the arousal you were still experiencing. It had all stopped so abruptly and all you craved in this moment was his hands on your soft skin again. Your skin tingled from being especially touch starved in this moment.

Your frustrations got the best of you as you failed to notice Joker’s enlarged pupils boaring into your innocent form. He was clearly satisfied with himself for thoroughly throwing you off. He was in control now. Your thoughts were finally interrupted as Joker cleared his throat. You snapped your head up to look him in the face, causing him to grin widely at seeing your flushed cheeks. You waited for him to speak but instead watched as he placed his already half drunken wine glass gently down on the side table, then using that now free hand to pat on his lap.

“Come”

He didn’t even need to say anything for you to know he wanted you to straddle him while he watched T.V. It had also become a routine for you and Joker’s down time. You sighed, ultimately giving up and walking over to him with a sheepish, tired smile painted on your lips. You sucked down most of your wine before taking your place on his lap. He didn’t move a muscle as you tried to get yourself comfortable, though it was hard seeing how, for some reason, he wasn’t closing his legs enough for you to be able to saddle him with one leg on each side of him. You didn’t think much of it though, you got comfy anyways by placing one leg on each side of just one of his legs, then lying down your head against his red suited chest to close your eyes and let the wine lull you into a dizzy nap.

You were struggling however, you couldn’t stop thinking about Joker’s hands on you just minutes ago. You felt slightly ashamed by how wet you were still getting underneath your sundress. You needed some friction more than ever right now. So you slowly started to move your hips against his thigh, oh so carefully as to not get him to notice. You acted it out as if you were just repositioning yourself.

Joker smirked wickedly as he kept his eyes to the T.V. , he had the news on which played a segment about himself. Though it wasn’t the purpose for his smug smirk - he knew exactly what you were doing. You had fell right into his trap, just how he wanted it..

“It’s okay darling, go ahead, rub yourself on me” his voice cracked a little

Blood rushed to your ears from his words. Your head snapped up drastically as you looked into his eyes, which flicked casually from the T.V to meet yours. You could see his dilated pupils now.

Was this his plan all along?

Joker watched as your rosy cheeks turned into a deeper red, flushing down all the way to your breasts. His gaze dipped down until stopping at your heaving chest. He swallowed trying to rewet his mouth, then licked the button of his lip before bringing his thigh up just gently enough to reach your heat, causing you to twitch slightly.

“Come on, don’t be shy now”

His words mixed with his relaxed posture was driving you crazy. Juices were soaking your panties at this point as butterflies continued to dance in your veins. You’ve never rubbed yourself against your Joker’s thigh before, so you complied timidly, steadying yourself first by placing your hands gently on his broad shoulders. You positioned and grounded your swollen bud on the right spot, instantly feeling the warmth that took shelter under his pant leg. You were a little too embarrassed to look him in the eyes yet, so you curled your back forwards slightly to give yourself room to rest your head into the crook of his neck. You could feel his pulse point quicken as you began to move yourself back and forth. Once you leaned down under his chin, Joker lifted his head slightly to give himself room to place his cigarette between his lips without interrupting you. His cigarette hung loosely from his mouth while his hands found their way back to the backs of the couch.

His eyes stayed locked to the T.V as you continued to grind on him; He wasn’t watching it however. His eyes stayed locked in on the reflection of the television, observing each and every motion of how you got off on him. How your (y/h/c) hair fell messily around your shoulders, down your back as you moved yourself on him.

Your breathe was getting more and more rigid as you continued. You were already feeling the tightness build up in your abdomen and your breath started to turn into whines that muffled themselves into his suit. You twisted your arm around the back of his neck more to get a better angle, you needed as much friction as possible. You were starting to get really close to your release. And Joker could tell because you finally brought your head up to face him. He his eyes caught yours in a heavy glare. Your flushed face watched him. He still acted almost careless but you could tell it was still his game since his eclipsed, barley visible green rings around the pupil of his eyes gave it away. His stare alone was enough for you to come undone.

Joker’s cigarette still stayed loosely between his thin red lips but his arms finally made their way off the couch and his hand traveled to your hips. Your maneuvers were becoming way out of sync so he gripped down hard with his calloused hands, moving you rapidly and roughly. His eyes flicked back and forth casually, multiple times until eventually resting where your blue floral trim met with your silky skin. The skirt of your dress had risen quite a bit from Joker’s hands. His head tilted just slightly enough to get a better look at how your juices were visible on this part of your thigh, shimmering from the dim light of the living room. You finally heard a low grumble accumulate in his throat. And your left knee could now feel the bulge that started to take over his pants.

This was enough for you now. You couldn’t take anymore as you threw your whole being into Joker’s loose embrace, sending out a loud cry as waves of your orgasm washed over your trembling frame. Joker let go of your hips, now just ghosting his hands over them to let you ride out your climax. You grabbed fistfuls of his red suit in your hands. Your legs shook violently around him until you could catch your breath. You were calming down but you were still a writhing mess. Joker didn’t move yet so you slowly brought your head up. His eyes looked at you for just a second before taking the last drag of the stub of a cigarette that still poked out of his mouth. He took one hand and discarding it in the ashtray next to him on the side table. He leaned his attention back to you, now looking straight down right on his suite to see all the drool you had left on it. His eyes then traveled to the bottom of your skirt again that displayed delicately to cover all your cum faultlessly. Your eyes darted all around him desperately waiting for any kind of reaction from him. Anything

“Lift up that pretty little dress of yours and show me the mess you’ve made” his voice came out hoarse and flat. Almost unamused

You obeyed, but you couldn’t tell what game he was playing now. Was he really unimpressed with you pleasing yourself on him for the first time ever? Did you really do that bad of a job? Was the way you did it unattractive? You internally nodded your head no, since you still could feel his hardened cock against your knee. He was obviously pleased.

With one last hesitating look, you slowly hiked up your skirt; you were wearing white panties but when Joker’s eyes fell on your mess, he saw how you have came so much that your thong was completely soaked, and see through. The white fabric clung to your pussy, defining your glistening folds. Joker swallowed hard and you could almost hear his heart beating faster in his chest. He let a few rigid breaths before letting out a small series of throaty chuckles. He lifted his head back up to you and you were caught off guard by a charming, wide smile:

“I win..”

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

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quarantined-with-bucky · 4 years

Text

Crash

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~ 4,900

Summary: Bucky learns what he likes about life: you

Warnings: Angst, but also fluff

A/N: Mildly inspired by “Crash” by You Me At Six!

...

Wait, where you say you've been? Who you been with? Where you say you're goin'? Who you goin' with?

There was a knock on your apartment door. Plucking yourself off the couch, you trotted towards the door, pulling it open. You were met face to face with Bucky, a smile immediately finding your lips. His visit was a surprise, he hadn’t said anything about stopping by. “Hey,” you greeted, about to stretch out your arms for a hug, stopping immediately when he didn’t return your smile.

Oh. And that’s when you peaked over his shoulder and noticed Steve standing on the street, leaning against the car. “Sorry, doll,” Bucky apologized, offering you his arms for a hug.

You accepted, pulling him close and tucking your face into his chest. “’S okay, Buck.” He told you earlier that he may have to be leaving to go on missions, he couldn’t say exactly when or where. But this took you by surprise; it was the first mission he’d been sent on since he’s met you – since he started dating you.

“So, it looks like I’m going to have to raincheck dinner on Friday,” he mumbled shyly, pulling away, but still holding you firmly at the waist. He awkwardly chuckled, hoping you’d at least find light of the situation in his old charm.

You smiled up at him. “Let me know when you’re back?”

“You’ll be my first stop.” He moved a hand to cradle your jaw, leaning towards you for a goodbye kiss. You obliged, biting your lip and watching him saunter back towards Steve.

Bucky stood next to the man, giving you a stiff wave. “Make sure he comes back in one piece,” you call out to Steve, waving back at the both of them.

Steve laughed, waving back. “Will do, (Y/N).”

You stood frozen in the doorway, leaning against the frame as you watched the boys climb into the truck, pulling away, heading off to wherever the hell they were going.

Wait, keep me in your skin, Keep me in your chest. I'll wait for it to start, I'll wait for it to end.

Bucky sat at the camp sight, the soft light of the fire illuminating the picture before him. He held the edges carefully, the image creased perfectly in the middle from where he’d folded it up to fit in his pocket.

It was a photo of the both of you. You were at the bar, one around the corner from your apartment, that you took him to months ago. It was the night of your friend’s birthday, and you wanted to bring Bucky along to meet a few of your friends. He was nervous at first, not sure if they’d recognize him, if they knew his past, if they’d be scared of him.

However, everyone welcomed him with open arms. They didn’t ask him too many questions, didn’t pester him about his arm. Instead, they told him extremely embarrassing stories from your past. And, damn, it made him laugh; you were blushing like crazy, trying to cut them off after every story – doing so by buying rounds of shots if they promised to stop talking about you.

It ended up not working, everyone growing more and more intoxicated as they continued teasing you. But you found it to be all in good fun, just enjoying you night out with your boyfriend and your friends. You spent the whole night attacked to Bucky’s arm, linking your own two arms around his, his hand resting on your thigh. You buried your face in his shoulder to smother your laughter or after they said something embarrassing about you.

It was one of the best nights he’d had in such a long time; he doesn’t remember laughing for so long or so genuinely in a while. Your friend had secretly snapped this picture of you, sending it to you the next morning. You groaned and rolled over in bed; your few hours of sleep interrupted by your phone buzzing loudly. Bucky handed you your phone, holding back his laughter at your raging hangover. You mumbled an “oh my god” and showed your phone to Bucky, cheeks tinted pink.

It was dark, the bar had been dimly lit where you were sitting. Cups half full, empty shot glasses, and beer glasses littered the sticky table in front of the both of you. Your face was buried in Bucky’s shoulder, unable to conceal the drunk smile taking up your whole face. You held on tightly to his metal arm, the glare of the metal prominent in the photo. Bucky was gazing down at you, a similar grin painting his own lips.

As you tucked yourself into his side to resume sleeping, he took your phone and placed it on the bedside table, but not before sending it to himself.

That was the picture he carried with him on missions. He tucked it away into his breast pocket, hidden underneath his armor-plated vest, right above his heart. He patted atop his armor for safekeeping.

He couldn’t wait to see you when he got home.

Just crash, fall down, I'll wrap my arms around you now. Just crash, it's our time now, To make this work second time around.

It was eight days later when he showed up on your doorstep again. This time, when you opened the door, you were met with a smiling Bucky; he was clean shaven, his hair pulled back behind his head. He was wearing that red Henley you loved so much, and his arms were open wide, waiting for you to run into his arms.

So that’s exactly what you did: hopping off the front stoop into his warm embrace. He caught you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, intertwining your hands behind his neck. The two of you stood on your front steps, embracing each other, kissing each other, for what felt like an hour. Eventually, Bucky made his way into your apartment, plopping down on the small sofa, not taking you off his lap.

That became routine for you two. Whenever he had to leave, you’d spend a whole day holding each other when he came back.

We grew up, We worked and changed our ways. Just like wildfire, Been burning now for days. Tearing down those walls, Nothing's in our way. I said, nothing's in our way.

Time flew by; before you knew it, it was your two-year anniversary. Two years of bliss, two years filled with commitment and trust and love. Despite taking it slow at first, after that first mission, you two became inseparable. Given the fact that he spent a lot of time with the Avengers: working, training, and on missions, you had no choice but to spend every bit of free time together.

You’d spent your fair share of time at the Avengers Tower, spending the night at Bucky’s place, joining him at parties, watching the sunrise on the roof of the skyscraper. But there was something about your place that Bucky felt more comfortable. He was like a giant in your tiny apartment. Meager living room, tiny couch, lined with pillows and blankets; modest kitchen, two small chunks of countertop on either side of the oven, shelves crowded with spices and utensils, pots and pans hanging off the pot rack on the ceiling above the island; crowded bathroom, utilities barely able to fit in the small room, no room to maneuver, shower head just too short for Bucky; humble bedroom, packed bookshelves, clothes strewn about, bed pushed under the one window, narrow enough that you have to sleep half on top of Bucky – not that he minded, except for the fact that his feet hung off the edge.

It made him feel small and safe. He hadn’t felt a home in a long time. He went from the frontlines of World War II to the empty cell of Hydra to a block of ice. He’d spent the majority of his life without comfort. And when he was welcomed to the Avengers, he hadn’t received much either. There were shrouds of hospitality, yes, but something about it lacked an intimate feeling. Vast corridors, high ceilings, large rooms; Bucky decided he wasn’t a fan of minimalism. He much preferred “cottagecore” as you liked to call it.

He loved to garden, taking care of your houseplants almost too much. He’d named all of them, from each viney philodendron to the splaying palm trees. He had an almost aggressive watering schedule. Soon, he began spontaneously bringing you flowers and houseplants – your small apartment turned into a jungle.

It was the morning of your second anniversary when Bucky asked if you wanted to move in together. “Do you mean you want to move in with me?” You clarified smugly, flitting your eyes above the coffee mug currently held to your lips.

He giggled childishly, happily. “Maybe,” he mumbled, drawing out the first syllable. He sipped his tea, mimicking you as you couldn’t contain the smile pulling at your lips.

You sauntered across the kitchen – as in, you took two steps closer to him and you were already chest-to-chest – and tilted your head up to his. He kissed you on the tip of your nose before you could respond, the grin on your face already confirming your answer. “You think you can fit all your clothes in my bedroom,” you teased, eyebrows raised in challenge.

He rolled his eyes, pointing his chin towards the open door of the bedroom. Piles of your clothes and his clothes thrown over chairs, folded on top and in the dresser – he practically lived with you already. “I think my clothes fit just fine in our bedroom.” His tone dropped, as did his face, burying it into the crook of your neck, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your collarbone.

You hummed, setting your mug down on the counter beside you, wrapping your arms around his neck and broad shoulders. You traced the top of his spine on the back of his neck, barely dragging your finger on the surface of his skin; the tickle brought a smile to his lips against your skin. “It seems so.”

And then he moved in. It’s not like he had much, anyway; everything he had technically belonged to Tony. He spent one Saturday bringing over his clothes – in which you graciously shoved into the dresser beside yours – knickknacks – to which you’d decorated throughout the apartment, displaying them on shelves, on the walls, between pots of plants – and boxes of memorabilia. Bucky thought about stealing his king-sized bed, just so he’d be able to fit without curling up into you (also so you’d have more room to roll around), but he wasn’t even sure it would fit through the door. He wouldn’t change anything about it, though. Everything felt like home, it felt like you.

You shared countless memories in that apartment: long nights spent talking instead of sleeping as the New York City traffic blared through your window, endless nights of baking (and burning) desserts, numerous movie nights that half-the-time ended in the two of you having sex on the couch or falling asleep innocently in each other’s arms.

No matter how many times he woke up with cramps in his legs and a sore back from falling asleep on your tiny plush couch, he still couldn’t wait to do it again the next night.

…

“(Y/N),” he whispered your name, face pressed up inches from yours, pillows smushed together and against the wall. Your sleeping eyes fluttered, eyebrows twitching, and bridge of your nose crinkling slightly. Soon, though, you were completely relaxed again, and Bucky almost felt bad waking you up – but not really. “(Y/N),” he murmured a bit louder, this time smoothing your wild hair down against your head, pulling his fingers through the knots.

You hummed, stirring in the bed, inadvertently stretching, pressing your palms against the wall, toes lengthening to the edge of the bed, pulling the bedsheets off you (and Bucky). “’Sup,” you mumble, immediately closing your eyes again, burying your face into your pillow and tucking your hands underneath your chin.

He smiles, gazing down at your tired form, obviously exhausted from the night prior’s festivities. “Baby, wake up,” he almost groans, faux upset that you weren’t giving him attention.

“I’m up,” you hum, not moving – not even opening your eyes.

“Let’s get married.”

You laughed in your pretend sleep, reaching your hand out blindly up his arm and up to his cheek, patting it lightly. It wasn’t the first time he said it; although the other times he had either been extremely intoxicated or sleep talking. “Do you have a ring for me, darling?”

“I do.”

And with that, your eyes popped open, meeting his staring back at you. You then narrowed your eyes at him, crinkling your nose. He was beaming at you with a shit-eating-grin, hand curled under the pillow propping up his head, curled up like a goof. You couldn’t find any words.

“So,” he continued, filling the gap of your shocked silence. “Will you marry me?”

Sitting up in bed, you propped yourself up on your elbow, staring down at him. He quickly took the cue, flipping around and digging his hand around under the bed. He returned facing you, sitting up next to you, sheets pooling at his hips. He held up the box, opening it with his metal hand.

Your breath left your lungs.

“Bucky,” gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, eyes flitting between the ring and his eyes: blue, glossy, and glazed over with passion. “Oh my god, Bucky.” You kept repeating yourself, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

“So…is that a yes?” He chuckled, nervously holding the box, gesturing it towards you.

“Oh my god, yes!” You nearly screamed, tears now fully flowing down your face, holding your hand out for him to place the ring gently on your finger. You then threw your arms around his neck, kissing your fiancé. He smiled through the whole kiss and you felt his heart beating next to yours.

You pulled back to fully look at the rock now sitting on your left hand. “I hope you like it; I had to go through my sister’s daughter, who had to go through a ton of old keepsakes and it took a while so I would’ve gotten it sooner, but – ” he cut himself off, realizing he was rambling when he met your growingly perplexed facial expression. “Anyway, it was my mom’s ring. And my pop saved up forever for it. I know it’s not huge and probably out of style and you deserve a million diamonds – ” he cut himself off again with a deep breath, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. “I just thought it would be nice – but if you don’t like it, you can just tell me and – ”

This time it was you who got him to shut up, leaning forward, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to yours. “Bucky, I love it.” It was beautiful. The diamond was small, still in perfect condition. The gold band was twisted intricately around the stone, newly polished and sparkling in the light shining through the window. What was even more appealing about the ring was the sentiment behind it. There was no two people that Bucky looked up to more than his parents; he often told you stories describing how much they loved each other, how hard his dad worked to finally convince his mom to go on a date with him. He beamed with pride when he spoke of them, recounting their hardships but how that never impacted their love for each other.

There was nothing more he wanted – then or now – than to give pass his mother’s ring along to you. He just happened to be lucky enough that his sister and niece saved it after all this time. He admitted that he could’ve gotten you a new ring, probably through a loan from Tony. Bucky technically didn’t have an income – just Tony’s money. And he did, in fact, offer to buy you the most expensive diamond ring in the world, a ten-carat ring from Antwerp; but that didn’t feel right. This was the only thing that Bucky had actually felt right about in a long time.

…

One month from that day, it was your three-year anniversary.

It happened during dinner – one random Thursday while the two of you sat at the edge of the kitchen counter, enjoying a casual plate of spaghetti.

“What – ” You choked on your mouthful of noodles. Coughing slightly, you sipped some wine, washing the rest of your bite down. Then you repeated yourself firmly: “What?”

“You heard me,” he responded, casually, mouth full of garlic bread.

“Now?” You ask, eyes wide, but unable to stop the smile forming on your lips.

“Yeah, why not?”

You stood from your stool, holding your palms against the island counter on either side of your dinner plate. “You were the one who said you didn’t want to do anything special for our anniversary.” You laughed, completely knocked off guard, mind moving a million miles per hour.

He raised an eyebrow. “You really thought I’d say that without some trick up my sleeve?” And, in fact, you were surprised when Bucky wanted to have a very low-key anniversary – he’d always been one for romantics. “Thought you knew me better than that,” he smirked, throwing a wink your way.

You rolled your eyes and swatted at his arm. “Are you being serious?” You leveled with him, leaning over so you were staring directly into the eyes of the man sitting beside you.

He smiled back kindly at you. “What do you kids say these days? Deadass.”

And you burst out laughing. Maybe you were a bit wine-drunk – but, god, this was something you’d never grow tired of. And that was perfect, considering you had already agreed to spend the rest of your life with him. There, in all honestly, was nothing that made your heart flutter like Bucky being an old man. “Okay,” you then whispered, cupping his jaw in both of your palms. “Let’s elope.”

So that weekend, that’s exactly what the two of you did.

Bucky had “borrowed” one of Tony’s cars – he assured you that he asked to take it for the weekend, but the smile and laugh in his voice told you otherwise. There was no time to question him further – no need, in fact – as he threw your suitcase in the trunk and opened the passenger door to you, ever the gentleman.

It was a short drive to Brooklyn Botanical Garden. You’d taken Bucky’s word for it, a place he remembered from his childhood; it was somewhere his mother used to drag him to and roam around – obviously with time he grew to appreciate not only the memory but also the serenity. He knew that was where he saw the both of you getting married; he knew that seeing you adorned in white surrounded by the beautiful trees and flowers was a sight he would never get tired of imagining.

Now, it was a sight burnt in his memory, holding your hands in his, a simple white gown falling perfectly on your body, veil pulled back that made it seem as though you were surrounded by clouds, the beautiful angel you were, anyway. Your hair was free, moving ever so slightly with the soft breeze; cheeks tinted pink as your skin glowed in the sun that shined before you; a bright grin painted your lips, so genuine that it made small crinkles form around your eyes. God, those eyes – gleaming in the reflection of the bright light before you, sparkling with love and laced with anticipation.

You faced a similar view, Bucky donning a casual grey suit; you insisted that was the one he brought with, a light grey contrasting his dark hair and deep blue eyes. While you had no doubt that seeing Bucky in an all-black suit was one of your all-time favorite looks, this was much more fitting for the occasion. The bright morning sun, the light-colored leaves surrounding your union; black was too harsh. Black, after all, was the color associated with the Winter Soldier. His uniform was black, his mask, his pants, his boots – his whole life was shrouded in darkness. This could not have been more the opposite; it was untraditional color, but so was your wedding and, hell, your whole relationship.

It was you and him, the officiant and the witness. You couldn’t remember either of their names, and you didn’t care, either. The only thing that mattered was Bucky’s eyes staring down at you, your hands held in his large ones, him slipping the wedding band on your finger.

And the kiss: perfect. You didn’t have the words to describe it. One hand found your waist as the other snaked through your hair, holding the back of your neck, guiding your lips up to his. Your arms folded around his neck, allowing you to pull your entire being flush against his body. He gave you two pecks on the lips before pulling away, letting his forehead rest against yours, staring into your eyes, glazed over with tears. His heart was full, it took all of his willpower not to breakout in tears. “I love you,” he whispered.

Your smile never faltered as you repeated those words to your husband.

…

“Buck, I have to get ready for work,” you called to him, yelling over the sound of the shower running.

“I’m almost done,” he responded, peaking his head from behind the curtain.

You stood at the vanity mirror, holding your hairbrush in one hand, flat iron in the other, makeup bag propped skillfully on the corner of the sink, one wrong movement away from spilling all over the floor. The mirror was fogging up ever so slightly; Bucky always insisted on taking the hottest showers possible. You began work on your hair when the water shut off, curtain swinging open, Bucky stepping out to grab a towel.

The two of you were practically pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, your elbow actually jutting out to nick his side as he toweled-off his hair. He laughed, maneuvering so that he stood behind you, his reflection towering over yours in the mirror. “I think we need a bigger place.”

He frowned, holding his hands against your hips. “But I like this place.”

You set the hot instrument on the edge of the sink, turning around in his arms. “I think we’re out of room,” you replied, thinking of the stacked up boxes of wedding gifts everyone sent you; you didn’t have anywhere to set them out or store them, thus everything remained in their boxes stacked up in your living room. Books and clothes lined every wall of your bedroom; you couldn’t fit nearly anything in the bathroom – and, hell, Bucky didn’t even fit without having to crouch under the showerhead.

He smiled down at you as you ran the brush through his freshly washed brown hair. “I guess so,” he mumbled shutting his eyes, reveling in the feeling of you softly brushing out his hair. “Plus, we’re going to be needing some more room to grow.” He peeked open his eyes, shooting a wink in your direction.

You cocked an eyebrow and yelped when his hand tucked against the underside of your thighs, pulling you up against him; you locked your ankles around his back and held onto the back of his neck, droplets of water still rolling down the nape of his neck and down his back, tickling your skin. You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah, why’s that?”

“You’re telling me you want little baby Barnes running around this place? It’s kind of a hazard, (Y/N),” he teased, then pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You rolled your eyes and pressed your hand against his chest, signaling him to drop you. Once he did, you turned around, back once again against his chest. “House first, then baby.”

“Really?” He gasped, staring at you in the mirror, wrapping your frame in a backwards hug. His eyes lit up, a huge smile creeping on his lips.

“Better get house hunting,” you said, shooing him off to get dressed so you can finally get ready for work.

Crash, fall down. I'll wrap my arms around you now. Just crash, it's our time now, To make this work, second time around.

There was a knock on your front door. You set down the sponge you were washing dishes with, placing the bowl in the drying rack next to you. Wiping your hands on your jeans as you walked over to the freshly painted door. Bucky had painted it a deep forest green before he left. You’d been waiting for ages to find the perfect color, the best shade to match the cozy, rustic – cottagecore – living space the two of you had cultivated together.

Once the door was done, you felt it was finally finished. Everything was so much bigger, but you two made sure to fill it with large, comfy furniture, displaying all of your wedding gifts graciously (and obviously Bucky’s plants). He made you wait outside while he painted the door; he didn’t want you breathing any fumes in that could harm the baby growing newly inside you. You rolled your eyes: “It’s the twenty-first century, Buck. We don’t use lead paint anymore. It’s okay – plus I want to help.” You picked up a paintbrush, reaching towards the paint can.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, grabbing a hold of your wrist, instead holding it up to his chest. “I just don’t want anything to happen. Please,” he pleaded, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes, curling out his bottom lip.

A soft smile pulled at your lips and you quit protesting. “Okay, baby,” you giggled, gazing up into his blue eyes. He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, blushing hard as he did so, laying a hand to your lower belly. It hadn’t grown much, only three months – hell, it was still the size of a plum (which also happens to be your husband’s favorite fruit) – you weren’t even showing yet, nonetheless he was still so excited, so proud, so in love. And nothing had changed since he met you on day one. He still looked at your with the utmost admiration, a lustrous gloss in his eyes as he stared down at you. You’d only grown more beautiful by the day, to him. You were his to come home to, his to protect, his to love.

You spent the afternoon out front in the garden, pruning bushes, watering flowers, and pulling weeds. You’d detested yardwork – everybody did – but there was something about doing it while you called across the lawn to Bucky, still positioned at the front door, cracking jokes and sharing anecdotes that made it all worth it. You wouldn’t trade this for the world: to be able to do chores with Bucky, even the most menial work, because he enjoyed doing them, just because he got to do them with you.

You walked to the door, kicking a few rogue shoes out of the way, and swung it open.

You were met with the sight of a uniformed chest, straight ahead in your line of sight.

You dropped to your knees, holding your hands to your chest, feeling your heart race. You couldn’t breathe – you were almost feeling yourself for a pulse.

He knelt down and wrapped his arms around you.

It was just the two of you in that moment.

You buried your face into his chest, the tough leather scratching your face. The wetness of your tears smeared across the surface of the material, painting your cheeks. His hand rubbed up and down your back, cooing softly in your ear. You didn’t know if he said anything in that moment, your mind couldn’t register anything coming out of his mouth, your ears clouded with a loud ringing behind your eardrums.

It was a loud, open, ugly sob – you sounded like a toddler throwing a fit; damn, this was quite the tantrum.

You pulled back suddenly, fisting at the chest of his uniform. It startled him; he tore himself away from you quickly. There was no way of knowing what you looked like – eyes red and puffy, cheeks glistening with wet tears smudged along your lips and chin as well. You couldn’t even stop, as you pulled away to look into his blue eyes, your own tears kept flowing, eyebrows knitted together and breath still hitching. He looked tired – exhausted; you didn’t know how long he’d been torn up like this. His face was pale, cheeks red and irritated with tears, blue eyes filled with tears exactly like yours.

“Is he really gone?”

He stared at you for a moment, new, fresh tears flooding in his eyes and down his cheeks. He bit his bottom lip, unable to trust his own voice. But Steve found the strength to muster up two words, the words that made you bury your face into his chest again, crying harder than before:

“I’m sorry.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #angst #bucky x you #angsty bucky

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heartofsnark · 4 years

Text

This Is Love (Chapter Nine): That Melts To A Shriek

Notes: Hello~, school has been stressful af, but luckily(?) for y’all I sometimes write to ignore my feelings/schoolwork. So, chapters have been getting done anyway.

Word Count: 11596

Chapter Warnings: Implications of abuse, not sure the best way to word this; acts of violence/property damage done against cops for being cops but very nearly hurt/killed a civilian.

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here

Taglist (trying this out, these are folks who interacted with the post over on my personal or contacted me privately, if you’d like to be added just message me): @enchantedbythebidders, @tender-wounds, @satanscaffeinatedfriend

Dahlia skids her bike to a stop in the diner parking lot; Cassie is sitting in the dirt just outside the building with her knees pulled up to her chest. She parks and makes a beeline to the girl, as she pokes her head up, looking at the deputy through a curtain of dark curly hair. Her cheek is red, just beginning to bruise, the imprint of a hand visible in the moonlight.

“Cassie,” Dahlia speaks her name delicately, seeing the tears tracking down the girl’s face. And she sinks down next to her and hugs her. Cassie hugs her back and sobs into Dahlia’s shoulder; trying to talk but everything muffles through chokes of crying.

Eventually, Cassie’s tears slow and her sobs lessens, fading into soft hiccups as she clings to Dahlia.

“I know it’s hard, but can you tell me what happened?” Dahlia asks once the young woman has calmed.

“My mom,” she wipes away her tears as she breaks their embrace, “I, I guess, I crossed a line. She kicked me out.”

“She hurts you?”

“She’s intense….I guess.”

“She’s put her hands on you.”

“Yeah.”

“A lot?”

“Yeah…” Dahlia wipes away the fresh tears that fall from the girl’s eyes, heart breaking for her.

“You didn’t cross any line, you know that, right? Nothing you’ve done makes it okay.”

“I just wanted to keep one paycheck, one, that didn’t have to go towards her bills or her clothes, or her whatever. Just one I could keep for myself and it was too much to ask and now…,” she searches for her next words, “I don’t know where to go…”

There’s no homeless shelters in Hope County, no emergency housing for people struggling, the exact reason so many of the drifters in the area sleep in abandoned train cars. It’s ridiculous, no rehabs despite the county having a drug problem and no shelter for people who need it. How the fuck are people supposed to get through?

“You can stay with me,” Dahlia offers, she sleeps on the couch anyway, no reason not to offer her bed to someone in need.

“No, I, I couldn’t. I bothered you enough, I-“

“Nonsense, we need to get you somewhere safe and I can’t think of anywhere safer, right now. Unless you wanna go out of county.”

“No, no, god no, I don’t wanna leave Hope…”

“I ain’t got much, but I got room for you.”

“Thanks…”

“You got anything with you?” Dahlia asks, when she notices all Cassie has are the clothes on her back, a thin jacket thrown over her waitress uniform.

“No…couldn’t grab anything…”

“Okay, then, we’ll make do tonight and tomorrow, I’ll see about getting your clothes back. That alright with you?”

“Yeah…just don’t…”

“I won’t do anything crazy, promise.”

“Okay…”

“Here you,” Dahlia says, handing over her motorcycle helmet to Cassie. She takes it and Dahlia knows Cassie is taller, a little older too, but in this moment, she seems so small and young, almost like a child.

Once the helmet is secure, Dahlia gets on her bike, allowing Cassie to climb on the back of it, instructing the girl to hold on as tightly as she can. Thin arms wrapping tight enough to dig into Dahlia’ s skin. The night air is cold, Cassie’s body all that much warmer in comparison as it presses in against and around the deputy.

There are a few eyes watching the girls as they ride into the trailer park, Dahlia coming to a stop by her porch. She’s gentle as she helps Cassie off the motorcycle, taking the helmet from her, the taller girl’s dark eyes dart around nervously, straying near where a Moonflower resident is glaring at the pair. Dahlia rubs a hand through the back of Cassie’s hair, ruffling the dark curls, mimicking Sheriff Whitehorse and his method of calming her. If it works for her, maybe it can help Cassie.

“Don’t worry about them, go on inside, I’m gonna lock up my bike okay.”

Cassie nods her head and walks off into the trailer. Dahlia catches eyes with the man who was glaring and she glares right back, flipping him off before locking up her bike. She could give a damn less what anyone does to her, but she’s not going to let them give Cassie hell. The girl has been through enough.

The older girl is on the couch when Dahlia walks back into the trailer, Cassie’s eyes looking over everything.

“Hey, you, uh, want anything to drink or eat? I don’t know how to make coffee, but there’s coke, water, uhhh…?” Dahlia pauses, arm still gestured outward as she tries to think of what else she can offer.

“Actually, I just wanna grab a shower and sleep, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, I’ll go grab some clothes you can sleep in, the bathroom is just right here,” Dahlia tells her, tapping a hand to the bathroom door.

“Thanks.”

Dahlia scurries off to rummage through her clothes, finding warm oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants, finding the warmest but least…Dahlia’s aesthetic to offer Cassie. She knocks on the bathroom door, giving Cassie a warning before she opens the door and quickly drops the change of clothes in the room before scurrying off. Trying to be welcoming, homely, nice, she doesn’t even know; she tries to get some food together. Store bought cookies and instant bag mix cocoa with hot water. It’s bad and shoddy, but she doesn’t have much to offer in the way of hospitality. This entire night has been a whiplash for her and she can’t even imagine what it must be doing to Cassie, she doubts shitty hot chocolate or mass produced cookies can fix it, but it’s something.

A few moments pass, Dahlia cramming cookies in her mouth as she waits, and finally Cassie leaves the shower. Despite being taller than the deputy, the baggy black clothes look big on her, the skulls along the sleeves don’t suit the woman much either.

“Thanks for the clothes.”

“No problem, uh, sorry they’re…so, me, I guess?”

Cassie laughs and a bubble of tension bursts inside of Dahlia, her shoulders finally able to relax as she smiles back. It no longer feels like walking on eggshells around a scared animal, Cassie at once seems more comfortable and happy even if only for a moment.

“It’s okay,” Cassie tells her after a moment, “seriously, I just appreciate, all of this. Don’t worry so much.”

“Hey, I’m happy to help, uh, help yourself to anything I shitty whipped together and oh I know. I need to show you where you can sleep,” the deputy fumbles about and then walks down to the bedroom, opening the door, “I know it ain’t much, but hey, bed’s a bed, right?”

“You have a second bedroom?”

“Huh, oh nah, I sleep on the couch.”

“You don’t have too, I don’t expect you to give up your bed for me, I-“

“No, no,” Dahlia gently touches Cassie’s shoulder before she can get too worked up, “I just do that, nothing to do with you.”

“Oh….that’s…weird.”

“I appreciate your honesty…I think?” Dahlia makes a huffy laugh, unable to hold down the corners of her mouth, the little insult? Dig? Whatever, someone might call it has brought a bit more levity to this and fuck knows the situation needs it.

There’s not much conversation for the rest of the night; Cassie visibly exhausted, only grabbing a cookie before excusing herself to sleep for the night. Dahlia eventually falling asleep on her couch later that night.

It’s back to work the next day, Dahlia planning on making a visit to Cassie’s mom during a quiet moment, claiming it as a lunch hour. She has no intention of using force or being aggressive, but she knows her uniform could add some….incentive for someone to be more helpful than harmful towards her.

Maybe it’s that, knowing she’ll want the full effect of it, or maybe it’s because she missed working, but she wears her uniform the proper way and with a bit more pride than she did before. She says goodbye to Cassie, the words clumsy and stumbling from her lips, as she tries to grow more comfortable with someone else in her home.

The morning hours pass by without much of note, harassing Pratt whenever the time presents itself and searching for affordable housing or shelters, or whatever the hell is available for Cassie. And she comes to the same conclusion she had when searching for her own housing ; The Moonflower is the absolute most dirt cheap.

A buzz and crackle over the radio, dispatch starting to break through.

“Boshaw’s parked out in Falls End at his bullshit again.” Dispatch doesn’t even pretend to have decorum and Dahlia knows there’s more than one Boshaw, the owners of the Moonflower being Boshaw’s themselves, but given his history and the tone she immediately thinks of Sharky.

“Oh god, really, can no one else go?” Pratt asks, looking like he wants to jump into traffic more than deal with this.

“Nope, everyone else passed the buck, so just go tell him to scram.”

“Fine, fine, fine.”

“It that Sharky guy?” Dahlia asks once Pratt starts to drive.

“Un-fucking-fortunately, pain in my goddamn ass.”

“He stealing again or…?”

“Hmm,” there’s a sudden glint in Pratt’s eyes, a smirk on his face and Dahlia already regrets coming into work, “actually, this seems like a good welcome back for you, Rookie.”

“I’m gonna want to strangle you after this, aren’t I?”

“Definitely.”

She groans as the police cruiser makes it’s way through Falls End, ultimately coming to a stop in a store parking lot, a few other cars are around but it’s mostly deserted. Pratt points out a dark green jeep within the lot.

“That’s Boshaw’s truck, go knock on the window and tell him to scram.”

“Jeep…”

“What?”

“You called it a truck, that’s not a truck, that’s a jeep.”

“Does it fucking matter?”

“Not really, but it bugged me, and I don’t know why.”

“Go knock on the fucking window.”

“What’s he even doing? Drugs? Or?”

“Go knock and find out.”

“I swear to god,” Dahlia grumbles and finally opens the cruiser door, she has no idea what the fuck she’s walking into.

She’s able to see Boshaw through the driver side window of his jeep, eye closed and head leaned back. Dahlia speeds up, she’s heard of residents overdosing in their cars, he never struck her as a hard drug user but one can never really tell. Dahlia raises her fist to knock on the window and then she sees it. Boshaw’s hand rubbing up and down the length of his dick. This is her life.

“What the fuck!” She yells out and closes her eyes, because she does not need the image of his dick burned into her brain, she’s still dealing with the image of John fucking Holly rattling around in there. What is wrong with people?

“Shit,” she hears him curse, a shuffling of something, a window being rolled down, “what the hell-“

“Get the fuck out of here or I’m charging you public indecency, right fucking now, christ!”

She waits until she hears an engine starting up and then makes a beeline back to the cruiser, not wanting to even chance seeing that weirdo’s dick again. Dahlia stomps her way back to the patrol car, Pratt’s laughing hitting her as soon as she opens the door. She kicks into the car, not hard, just a quick jab of her boot into his arm before she pulls back.

“What the actual fuck, Pratt!?”

“What, get an eyeful?”

“What the actual fuck, does he just do…that!?” She’s cringing as she climbs into the passenger side seat.

“Yeah, he just, is like that if he isn’t jerking off in public, he’s setting something on fire. Or both.”

“Dear lord, what is wrong with people? What’s wrong with you doing that to me, asshole!?”

“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Save your apology food for tonight, I got something to take care of during lunch.”

“So, you’re abandoning work?”

“For an hour max and you can call me if anything comes up.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just giving you shit, it’s fine.”

She rolls her eyes as they go back to the station, just a short drive away in the small town. The young deputy waves off her patrol partner as she climbs onto her bike, making sure her ringer is turned on this time, just in case something does manage to come up. Cassie gave her the address this morning and she quickly finds the little house surrounded by woods, as so many of the houses in Hope County are.

Dahlia lets out a breath before knocking her knuckles against the door, firm and heavy despite the knot twisting her insides. After a few moments pass and then finally the door opens; an older woman staring back at Dahlia. The resemblance between her and Cassie is strong; the same pitch black hair and dark eyes, just to an older face.

“Oh god, she didn’t drag you all into this did she?” Her words drip with condescension and venom and a muscle in Dahlia’s cheek twitches, her jaw tight.

“I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but I was hoping to collect Cassie’s clothes and personal items.”

“Pff, what’d she tell you, some sob story, I’m sure.”

“This isn’t a criminal matter,” yet, Dahlia would like to add, but decorum or something, “if that’s what you’re concerned about and I don’t have a warrant either, for full disclosure. I’m just kindly asking to get her things, I can collect them myself or you can hand them to me if you’d rather I not enter the home, whatever you like.”

“You can come on in, I don’t have anything to hide,” Cassie’s mother lets her in.

“Thank you so much, where is her room, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Right this way, I swear she’s so fucking dramatic.” Her mother bitches and complains, taking Dahlia there and showing her an open duffle bag that she can put clothes in.

“I just know she asked me to get her things.”

“I’m so sorry she dragged you into this deputy, I’m sure you have better things to do.” Her mother talks as Dahlia tries to gather as much as she can into the bag, not only clothes but things that could be important, books and a laptop.

“I’m always happy to help out where I can, thank you so much for your time and patience, ma’am.”

A hand catches Dahlia’s bicep, Cassie’s mom stopping her. She turns to look, not sure what exactly is going on now.

“So, where is she staying?”

“I don’t know ma’am, I was only asked to bring her things to the police station, but I assure you she’s in a safe place. No worries. Have a lovely day.”

Dahlia pulls away from the woman’s grip and leaves the house, she keeps an eye over her shoulder as she leaves, insuring that the mother isn’t following her. Just in case she takes a few odd turns to make sure and then finally makes her way back to the Moonflower.

She’s compelled to knock on her own trailer door, not sure what Cassie might be doing with her alone time. Cassie’s dark eyes peek through the window and Dahlia waves, before the door opens. The girl’s head tilted to the side slightly, eyebrow raised.

“Did you forget your key?”

“No, I uh, just wanted you to know I was here, I guess.”

“Okay, uh, you really act like a guest in your own house, don’t you?” Cassie points out as Dahlia walks into the trailer.

“Ehhh, like ya know,” she makes a vague noncommittal wiggly gesture with her shoulders, “anyway, I got your clothes. No trouble, no issues, check through and make sure I grabbed everything.”

“Thanks, really, you have no idea how much this means to me,” Cassie gushes as she looks through it.

“It’s not problem at all, there is one thing I wanna talk to you about.”

“What’s up?”

“So, I’ve been trying to look around, see what options are available for you to move into. The cheapest housing in Hope is right here, if you wanna save up to rent a trailer. Then things get pricier, you’re looking at the trailers at Silver Lake which are twice as much, and even more than that for renting an apartment in Falls End or god forbid you’re trying to buy a house.”

“I…don’t really wanna live here on my own… The people here are…”

“Rough?”

“We’ll go with that. But, it’s not like I can afford anything else.”

“Well, there’s affordable housing like section eight in the bigger places, b-“

“I don’t wanna leave Hope either, I-, oh god.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not trying to freak you out or overload you. You don’t have to know right now, you don’t have to know anytime soon. You can stay here as long as you need, no rush or pressure. I just wanted to let you know what I found.”

“Thanks, I just gotta save up some money and then…”

“Hey, I still got some time for my lunch break, I’ll treat ya if there’s anywhere you wanna go.”

“Uh, I could go for some pizza.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Dahlia takes them both to the 8-Bit Pizza Bar, the rest of her lunch break isn’t very long, so they don’t get much time to chat. Finishing off a pizza and talking about video games before Dahlia has to drop Cassie back off at the trailer to head back into work; warning her new roommate that she’ll be going to The Spread Eagle after her shift. And finding out what she can bring Cassie home for dinner.

Whitehorse is out in the bullpen style offices when she arrives back to the precinct, discussing something with an officer. She waits as patiently as her baseline personality will allow her, unable to help tapping her fingers against her thigh, also brimming with some sort of uncontainable energy. Surely, Whitehorse might know someplace Cassie can turn to? Someplace that can help her.

“Something on your mind, Rookie?”

“Yeah, you remember that waitress, Cassie?”

“Something happen with her?” There’s a furrow in his brows and a clench in his jaw, worry and concern darkening his eyes.

“She called me, her mom hurt her, threw her out, she’s not interested in pressing charges. So, she’s staying with me right now, safe. But, uh, she’s…not really happy at the Moonflower. Rough folks ya know, give her dirty looks ‘cause she’s hanging out with a cop, that whole mess. So, I was wondering if there’s literally anything available to help her out?”

“I’m sorry to say, there’s not a hell of a lot around here, Rook. Moonflower’s cheapest place she’d find to live, but as far as charity goes, Hope County runs low on it. Churches use to help out when they could, you can always try with them, but not sure they can afford to help anymore.”

“Never thought I’d be upset at a lack of religious involvement in anything, but what do you mean they can’t afford it.”

“Most of ‘em are bleeding members. Pastor Jerome’s church in town and the old Lamb Of God Church only got a few regulars right now. Most folks jumped to Eden’s Gate.”

“Does….Eden’s Gate do any sort of help?”

Dahlia raises an eyebrow, Joseph certainly seems nice. The way Layla and Waylon talked, the church is no stranger to helping the crestfallen. Certainly, they do some sort of outreach? Even the worst of churches tend to do something; hell her own shitty step-dad’s church helped rebuild the community after the hurricanes. It’s good PR and a way to draw people in.

“Sure, but for most people they’re a last resort and for good reason.”

“’Cause they’re buzzkills and no one likes them?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze, “good luck and if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know, alright?”

“Will do, thanks, Sheriff.”.

Later in the night, shift ending with little trouble, the three deputies make their usual Spread Eagle trips. But Dahlia can’t seem to settle. She assumed it’d feel easy and nice to be back to her completely usual routine, a celebration when she returned, but everything draws her mind back to Cassie. Dahlia can’t help but feel guilty when she thinks about it, despite opening her home to the older girl, she can’t say she’s been there much. Having to go to work today and only sparing her a half hour for lunch. And now she’s out with friends… She tries to focus on what Pratt and Hudson are saying, but only finds herself worrying about Cassie. She’s alone in an unfamiliar place… probably still scared and worried about every shadow.

“You alright, Rook, you seem out of it.”

“Yeah, uh, actually, my head is starting to hurt, injury and all that. So, if it’s cool, I’m gonna split early tonight.”

“Alright, but if you think you’re getting a rain check on that free food, you’re out of your mind,” Pratt taunts her and she laughs, flicking his ear.

“Somehow I’ll live, see you guys tomorrow.”

She orders some food to go for her and Cassie then heads out. There’s that familiar end of shift exhaustion as she pulls into the Moonflower, bones and muscles always a little leaden. The desire to just stuff her face and veg out in front of the tv for a while. It’s an all too familiar feeling of trudging back to her trailer, but this isn’t the same as all those nights.

Darkness and silence don’t greet her as she opens the door, the clawing feeling of loneliness doesn’t strike her like a snake hiding in underbrush. Her trailer is alive, it seems, lights and tv on, brightness and a burble of noise. Cassie sitting on the couch, curled up as some romantic comedy plays on the tv. Her entire body turning to greet Dahlia, bright eyes and a soft smile welcoming the deputy.

“Hey, I thought you were gonna be late?”

“Yeah, turns out I wasn’t feeling it tonight, brought dinner though,” Dahlia shows the bag off, “what’re you watching?”

“10 Things I Hate About You. I know it’s cheesy as hell, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“Never seen it.”

“What, oh my god, you have to watch it with me! It’s so good.”

“Okay, okay, let me settle in and we’ll have a movie night.”

Once she’s changed out of her uniform, Dahlia settles in on the couch with Cassie, who’s rewinded the movie back to the beginning. They’re cramming food into their mouths as it plays and it’s adorable. A guy being paid to date a girl, so another guy could date her sister due to some dumb dad rule, but then alas he falls in legitimate love. Cassie says lines along with the actors, showing just how many times she’s watched it, able to quote characters verbatim. She does a nervous little glance over at Dahlia now and again as it plays on, checking Dahlia’s interest, the deputy makes sure to smile a little brighter when those eyes land on her.

“I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I’m begging you to beg me~!” Cassie sings along to the final song that plays the movie out, a band conveniently located on the schools roof, because why the hell not?

“I see why that’s one of your favorites.”

“Sorry I couldn’t shut up,” Cassie apologizes, cheeks red.

“No, no, it’s cute. Shows just how much you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I still remember when they showed it to us in class, I just fell in love.”

“They showed that in school?”

“Yeah, it’s actually based on an Shakespeare play, Taming of The Shrew, so they showed to us in English. Along with the DeCaprio, Romeo and Juliet.”

“Ah, I haven’t seen that movie either.”

“You haven’t seen many movies have you?”

“My family wasn’t big on tv and honestly, if my school played anything, I probably slept through it or don’t remember it well.”

“I mean, your memory can’t be that bad, high school was probably not that long ago for you, was it?”

“Hey, you don’t know that, I could be pushing forty for all you know.”

“Oh yeah, and dermatologist just hate you,” she rolls her eyes, “seriously, how old are you?”

Maybe, it’s the food warm in her belly, the comfort of her own trailer, or the shared smiles; but she feels a little more honest than usual.

“Twenty…ish,” she says, with a little smug smirk, knowing the question to follow.

“Ish?”

“Hmmm, well, between you and me, I may be a little shy of it.”

“You’re nineteen?”

“Only for the next three months or so, but, yeah…” She admits, trying to do the math, she turns twenty in September.

“So, you’ve just been lying about your age?”

“It’s three months, okay, nineteen just hits the ear differently. I have a hard enough time getting anyone around here to respect me without being called a teenager.”

“But, you are a teenager.”

“Technically, my age does contain the word teen in it.”

“And what do you plan on doing when everyone expects you to turn twenty-one and you don’t?”

“The only people who know when my birthday is would be the Sheriff, you kind of, or in Louisiana. As long as you and Whitehorse don’t run around alerting everyone, there’s no way of any of them knowing, I can play it off as my birthday being further away.”

“Is that worth it just to not be called a teenager?”

“Considering all the shit I get about my age and rank already; yes.”

“I mean, you do look like a baby faced high schooler.”

“Oh you’re one to talk,” Dahlia laughs, reaching out to pinch Cassie’s own round cheeks, the girl giggles and shoves at her in response.

“Shit, it’s late,” Cassie says after a moment, catching the time.

“You headed for bed then?’

“I, uh, actually needed to ask you something first?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I got today off because of…everything…but if I wanna start saving money back up, I gotta go into work. But…I don’t have a car…”

“What’d you do before?”

“I just used my mom’s car, she didn’t let me have my own, said it was too much…”

“And public transport ain’t exactly booming out here.”

“You can’t even get rideshares out here.”

“What’s your shift hours?”

“Nine to five.”

“You okay with getting there early and hanging out there later? If so I can drop you off on my way to and from work, my shifts are just a bit, lengthier.”

“Yeah that’s fine, hell, I could chock it up to overtime and probably get a coworker to drive me home at the end of my shift, if you can just get me there in the morning.”

“We can do that.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Cassie throws her arms around Dahlia, “seriously, this just thank you.”

“You’re welcome, you’re gonna get through this and I’m gonna help you every step of the way, promise.”

She rubs a hand up and down the girls back, then she hears it. Maybe it’s just everything hitting Cassie, maybe it’s the deputy’s words, or the comforting touch; but something pushes the older girl to tears. Broken whimpers and cries, tears wetting Dahlia’s shoulder as she does her best to comfort Cassie, holding her tight and letting her just let it out.

It’s unclear how long it lasts, the outpour of emotion, but at some point, Cassie is finally able to pull away with red rimmed eyes and apologies on her lips.

“Nothing to apologize for, mon cher. Why don’t you head on to bed, morning will be here before you know it.”

“Okay, night, and I know I sound like a broken record, but thanks again…”

“No problems, now go get some sleep.”

Cassie leave for the bedroom and Dahlia chews her lips, thoughts racing through her brain. There’s a thought pressing on her, she didn’t bring it up to Cassie and likely won’t until she settles in a bit more. But, she wonders if Cassie could once she gets her footing, just chip in for rent here? She said she feels more comfortable in the Moonflower with Dahlia around, they get along well, and Dahlia likes having a friend to come home to… But a conversation for another day…

It’s the following afternoon when Pratt and Dahlia are called out to a local veteran’s house. Redler is an older man, older than Whitehorse, with steel gray hair and deep wrinkles creased into his face. Despite his age, he’s strong and sturdy, shaking Dahlia’s hand with a near bone crushing strength when she greets him the next day under the afternoon sun. She can feel the years of work in the rough calluses that mar his hands. Pratt told her that he fought in Vietnam when they got the dispatch call, someone tried to break into his home last night and they were asked to check everything out.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Dahlia says after introduction, feeling the need to straighten her shoulders around the veteran.

“Thank you both for coming out, I’m sure I’m just being paranoid, but I’d appreciate if you’d check everything out. I can’t get around quite like I use to.”

“We’re happy to help, Redler.”

Pratt and Dahlia start to walk around the house and property, searching for anything that could be considered suspicious or out of ordinary. There’s nothing that jumps out at Dahlia, Redler said he heard something last night but when he yelled out, whatever or whoever it was went away.

“You think they managed to do anything before he scared ‘em off?” Dahlia asks Pratt.

“Nah, some of the local teenagers just like to be a pain in his ass.”

“Why?”

“He’s an old sometimes crabby guy, kids are pains in the ass, like you.”

“Haha,” she mocks dryly, “you’re so funny.”

“I’m hilarious, in fact I had a very eye-opening experience this morning.”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“I woke up.”

“Ughh,” she groans what an awful fucking joke, “you corny dumbass.”

She raises her fist to give him her usual playful punch against his shoulder, then he steps out of the way. Her knuckles swinging through empty air before connecting with the glass behind Pratt. Blood drains from her face as the window shatters from the force of her punch. She…broke Redler’s window.

“What the fuck, Rookie!?” Pratt looks at the window and at her, hazel green eyes wide with shock.

“I, I, you moved!”

“Oh no, oh no,” he shakes his hands emphatically and smirking, “you’re not blaming this on me.”

“Why did you move!?”

“How hard were you trying to hit me?!”

“No harder than usual, I, I-“

“What the hell was that?” Redler’s voices rings out, steps following after his question, no doubt he heard the shatter.

“Oh god.” She buries her head in her hands, embarrassment and shame hot in her face, she broke the man’s window over a shitty dad joke. Pratt is cackling at her expense and she knows she’s an idiot. But why did he move?

“What the hell happened here?” Redler asks as he comes around the corner of his house, seeing the broken outside window. She’s sure the inside is a mess of glass, oh god, what is wrong with her?

“I’m so so so so sorry,” she gushes out loudly from behind her hands, “I accidentally punched your window. I didn’t mean to, really. I’ll clean it up and fix it, I promise, I’ll pay for everything. I’m so sorry.”

Her words slur and run into each other, as guilt forces her to practically beg for forgiveness.

“Dear lord,” Redler sighs, the heavy sound a vice around her heart, dear god he must think she’s the stupidest person ever and he’s right, “I have the supplies to fix it up, you know how?”

“Yes, sir, I could build you a brand new house if you gave me the time and supplies,” she tells him, which okay, maybe an exaggeration. But, if he asked her to, she’d try her damndest.

“That won’t be necessary, c’mon now.”

There’s two different sheds, or shed like structures on his property. One is locked up tight, a keypad on the door and she finds herself wondering what might be in it as he brings her to the other building; helping her gather what she’ll need. Dahlia gets to work on fixing the disaster she’s created, first by cleaning up the broken glass inside and out of the home. Pratt on standby to snicker at the young deputy.

“You punched a window…” He says, voice straining to contain laughter.

“I know.”

“Because of a dumb joke.”

“I know.”

“Why are you like this?”

“I don’t know!”

If it wasn’t for the guilt and embarrassment; she’d probably be laughing at the ridculousness of the situation. But for now, every chuckle from her superior officer just fills her with a fresh dose of shame. Once she’s moved onto fixing the broken window itself, glass cleared, Pratt’s finally shifted his focus away from taunting her.

“Hey, Red,” he talks to the veteran while she works to clear out the dirt and old caulking from the window frame, “you going to the Rye barbecue tomorrow?”

“Yeah…”

“You don’t sound thrilled.”

“Gah, it’s nothing, Grace and her dad are taking me, since I can’t drive or walk too well anymore. Just-“

“Don’t like having to be helped?”

“Yeah, hazard of being my age, I’m afraid.”

“It’s nice to see the veterans looking out for each other, though.”

“Pff, use to see it a hell of a lot more because that damn Eden’s Gate bought the veterans center out from under us,” he sighs, heavy and deep for a moment before the older man looks over at her, “what about you, gonna break some of Kim and Nick’s windows tomorrow?”

He’s smiling and Pratt laughs; at least Redler finds some humor in this she supposes. Her face is beet red as she tries to search for a response through her embarrassment.

“Not that it stopped me from breaking yours, but, uh, I don’t know Nick or Kim. So, I’ll be steering clear.”

“Still hung up on that,” Pratt rolls his eyes, “I told you, just show up with some food, no one gives a shit.”

“I’m not showing up at a strangers house for their barbecue; that’s just asking for awkwardness and I have enough of that in my life as is.”

“C’mon; me, Hudson, Whitehorse, even Beau will all be there. Ain’t like you won’t know anyone.”

“All done,” she cuts off the barbecue talk, finished glazing and setting the window, it’s good to go.

“Would have preferred you didn’t break it, but thanks for getting it fixed so quick.”

“No problem and like I said,” she pulls cash from her wallet, more than enough to cover all she had to use, “’cause no reason you should be out for the stuff. Sorry again.”

“And goes without saying, we didn’t find anything amiss, so you scared the brats off before they did anything,” Pratt chimes in.

“’Preciate you two coming to check it out and despite the trouble, I suppose having some company was nice, I’ll see you around.”

With that the pair of deputies leave the veteran to his evening, hopefully one that will contain significantly less broken windows. Dahlia rubs a hand down her face when she sits down, tension leaving her back and shoulders now that she’s managed to fix the mess she made.

“You should seriously come to the barbecue.”

“Pratt….”

“It’ll be a chance to meet some more folks, you’re talking about not knowing people, this is how you meet people.”

He’s not wrong and she knows it, if she ever wants to make friends beyond him, Hudson, Cassie and Eden’s Gate members who’re hated by everyone else, then surely she needs to try to be social.

“Fine, fine, I’ll buy something to bring tomorrow.”

“Store bought crap isn’t exactly a way of winning folks over.”

“I can’t cook, Staci.”

“Who the hell can’t cook?”

“Me, asshole.”

“Oh please, you can throw something together.”

“I mean if you want me to give the county food poisoning, I can.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” he rolls his eyes and starts up the cruiser, he doesn’t seem to understand just how incompetent she is in the kitchen.

The moment her shift ends, Dahlia is in a grocery store with her phone on searching for recipes. She needs something good, but more importantly, absolutely idiot proof. She wonders for a moment if she could get away with just freezing juice and sticking toothpicks in them for popsicles, that might be the only thing she’s incapable of fucking up. Though knowing her luck the freezer would just explode.

She’s gonna kill Pratt; actually, physically kill him.

No bake cookies, she spots on a list of recipes, that should be easy enough. Probably, it doesn’t even have to be baked, what’s the worst that could happen? Dahlia gathers up ingredients, enough for a few batches, in case she fucks up the first few attempts. Which she will. And some store generic brand sugar cookies in case she fucks up every attempt. Which she probably will.

Cassie is on the couch watching movies, having grabbed that ride home from a coworker, when Dahlia comes home with bags filled with ingredients. The older girl raises an eyebrow, watching as Dahlia drags these bags to the kitchen, which she hasn’t touched since she made shitty instant hot chocolate.

The deputy rubs her fingers idly against the burn across her palm, her step father having held it to the stove when her mother tried to teach her to cook and she hadn’t listened. It stands out among her colorful history of abuse at his hands, the burning of her own flesh a sharp and brutal contrast to the bite of a belt or the strike of a hand. It may only be second to the snake incident…

She shakes her head, trying to shake off her memories like a dog drying itself. She’ll have time to review Father Monroe’s greatest hits later, for now she needs to try to make cookies without destroying her trailer.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to the Rye barbecue tomorrow, so I have to make something…”

“Oh those have always been fun.”

“You’ve been?”

“Yeah, everyone loves Nick and Kim.”

“Well, I’ve never met them and I’m terrified.”

“Pff,” Cassie laughs, “they’re sweethearts, though Kim’s a little hormonal with baby.”

“I…ya know what it doesn’t matter, what does matter is; you wanna play hooky from work and go with me?”

“I need money.”

“Ugh, you and your need for basic survival requirements,” Dahlia dramatically roles her eyes, “if you must disappoint me by ‘needing money’, you can least make up for it by making the cookies.”

“Not happening.”

“God damn it, fine, I got this.”

Dahlia dumps the ingredient out on her counter; sugar, milk, butter, cocoa powder, vanilla, peanut butter, and oats. So, she needs to line baking pans with parchment paper… the fuck is parchment paper? Why was this not mentioned in things she needed?

“I don’t think I got this,” Dahlia announces.

“It’s been a minute.”

“What the fuck is parchment paper?”

“Its paper so it doesn’t stick to the pan, I think you have some non-stick spray, that may help?”

“Okay, okay then.”

“Do you even have pans?”

“Yes, I have pans, I’m not a cavewoman.”

“You sure about that?”

Cassie merely laughs at Dahlia’s pout, the deputy then grabbing the pans and spraying them down, this should be fine? She shrugs to herself, what’s the worse that could happen if she uses spray and not paper?

“Okay then,” Dahlia starts to read the rest of the recipe, “wait what?”

“Do you already have a new crisis?”

“…maybe… These are supposed to be no bakes, why am I heating shit up on the stove? That makes no sense.”

“Well, that’s not baking.” Cassie shrugs like it’s obvious and maybe to her it is.

“What?”

“Baking means it’s in an oven,” Cassie speaks slowly, eyes wide at the realization of how deep Dahlia’s incompetence runs, “if it’s on a stove that’s more like cooking.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck? Why do you need more than one word for making food hot?!”

“Do…do you know anything?”

“Clearly not!”

Dahlia curses under her breath, already frustrated at her lack of knowledge. Why is she such a fucking idiot with this stuff? She just wants to make a good impression on people and she’s such a fucking mess. Ruminating will get her nowhere; she ties her short hair back into a sloppy little ponytail and takes her deputy uniform shirt off to tie around her hips, knowing the stove will quickly heart up her small kitchen then sets her phone to play some music.

“You need music to cook?”

“Need it to function.”

“Some parts of my brain are probably still sleeping I wish I could tell but I'm probably still sleeping.”

Dahlia starts following the instructions , humming along to the music, something upbeat to help her not want to die through this entire process. She eyeballs the amount of sugar, butter, cocoa powder and milk into the saucepan; trying to make it look like the pictured amount and turns on the heat. The recipe calls for her to whisk it, but she doesn’t have one those, so she stirs it off and on with a spoon, this isn’t too hard so far.

“Uh, are you measuring that?” Cassie asks and Dahlia leans on the table to talk, tapping her fingers along to the beat.

“The recipe doesn’t say how much, but like, it can’t be too hard.”

“Uhhhh deputy….”

“I look to the window, I look through your eyes

I can see my reflection, but I can't close the blinds.”

There’s a burbling noise followed by sizzling and Dahlia turns in time to see chocolate milk boiling over the pan. It runs down onto the floor, sizzling as it hits the burner. The word shit is said under Dahlia’s breath like a chant as she shuts off the heat.

“So…too much milk?” Dahlia wonder out loud as she cleans up the mess.

“Like I know.”

‘Someone has to, ‘cause I sure as shit don’t.”

“It's like someone's determined to change how I think

But if I just close my eyes I'll wake from each dream”

Dahlia cleans up the mess and dumps out the chocolate milk soupy mess within the pan, ignoring Cassie’s snickers of laughter as she works. She just had to do this with a peanut gallery, didn’t she? But hey, she was prepared for the first couple attempts to fuck up. She combines the ingredients again, using much less milk this time.

“Maybe you should find a recipe with measurements?”

“I already have the ingredients for this recipe,” Dahlia says, if she switches now there could be shit she doesn’t have, right?

“You’re so stubborn…”

“What?” Dahlia asks when she notices the trail off, storing the new mixture which is thicker and becoming harder to stir in seconds, is that good?

“Holy fuck.”

“You okay?”

“I don’t know your name.”

“Yeah, you just realized ? Umm, is that smell normal?” The chocolate mess is starting to smell like burning tires…which is probably bad.

“Would it let you down if we don't grow up?

Would it make you proud if we gave up?

What about anybody?

They're all just chasin' money”

“How is that possible? I’m living with you and don’t even know your name.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Whitehorse is the only one who knows my full name.”

“What the-do you not tell people your name?”

“I mean, I never avoided it, but I usually just call myself the new deputy and we move on. Just sort of happened and now I just think it’s kinda funny, uh this is definitely not good is it?”

“Jesus fuck, no that’s not good!”

Pitch black smoke has started to roll off the pan; solidifying burnt chocolate sticking to it. Dahlia swings the pan around to the sink, rolling it under cold water before it can spark fire. She huffs, blowing lose strands of hair up and out of her face, sweat and flush on her skin as she turns to face Cassie.

“So, not enough milk that time.”

“You giving up?”

“Of course not, third times a charm, mon cher,” Dahlia bolsters her fake confidence as she grabs a new pan, surely she can salvage one batch?

“Would it let you down if we don't grow up?

Would it make you proud if we gave up?

What about anybody?

They're all just chasin' honey”

Dahlia recombines finding a middle ground for the amount of milk to avoid burning or boiling over; she hovers over it, stirring the entire time as she watches for any signs of a new disaster. The entire time Cassie seems to be watching her, but she doesn’t talk as much this time, Dahlia can feel eyes on her arms in particular. She looks down at her arm, half expecting to see a spider, a pimple, or something that’d draw attention. But all she sees is her own bicep, maybe it’s the tattoos. Nothing complicated, as she couldn’t afford much, two solid black bands around her right bicep.

“If ever you want me, if ever you need me

I may not be conscious but baby I'm honest

I'll look to the mirror, I'll look through your heart

I can see good intentions but we tear them apart”

“Do you like tattoos?” Dahlia asks, wondering if that’s why Cassie’s eyes have been drawn to the ink.

“Huh, oh, uh they’re alright, I don’t have anything against them, do you have a lot?”

“Just these and one on my lower back.”

“You have a tramp stamp?” Cassie raises an eyebrow, a smile to her lips.

“No, tramp stamps are across the middle, it’s on the left side, so ha.”

“So, it’s tramp stamp adjacent?”

“Shut up.”

“What is it of?”

“A quote from Lady Lazarus; ‘and like the cat I have nine times to die,’ Sylvia Plath.”

“That’s,” Cassie blinks, taken aback, “a lot more…pretentious than I expected from you.”

“Someone I use to live with had all these books of poetry, philosophy, all the deep shit you could dream of. It was my first real time reading that kind of stuff, so a lot of it stuck with me. Cats are kind of a…theme in my life. They called me their stray, got me the helmet, I even had a cat for a…short period of time. So, it’s the quote from it I picked.”

She can’t help but smile thinking of the shelves of books that Lloyd and Caroline had; when they first took her in, after years of being hidden away from anything ‘sinful’ or ‘worldly’, she was desperate to consume any media she could. She read every book in their house, spent days in front of the tv just binge-watching stuff she wasn’t allowed to watch as a kid. Mostly pokemon cartoons, horror movies, and Sailor Moon if she’s being honest. Caroline was the one with the love of poetry, telling Dahlia about Sylvia Plath when she found the books of poems one night.

The idea of constantly being killed only to be brought back, over and over, a constant revolving door of pain. A cycle you beg for release from but are never afforded the mercy of it; Caroline explained how Plath struggled with suicidal thoughts… Dahlia never thought herself suicidal through her childhood, but she couldn’t deny how often she wished for death, an escape of any kind… The symbolism with the condemnation of Jewish people, knowing the half of Dahlia’s background that her mother threw away for Father Monroe and made Dahlia throw away too, yet still they were called such vile and slurs… It just stuck with her.

“Was there another contender?”

“Yeah, I love the poem all around but two parts of it have always been my favorite.”

“The cat one and…?”

“Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.”

“God, you’re a dork.”

“So rude, what am I gonna do with you,” Dahlia laughs, shaking her head as she moves the pan off the burner. So far, it’s going alright, all she should need to do is mix in vanilla, peanut butter, and oats. Wait…she may be dumber than originally thought, which is saying a lot.

“Something wrong, you look like you’re doing math in your head or something.”

“A lot of people are allergic to peanuts…aren’t they?”

“It’s like one of the most common allergies, yeah.”

“And I chose food with peanut butter in them…”

“Wasn’t gonna burst you bubble quite yet, but I’m pretty sure Nick is.”

“What!? Why would you-!? What were you waiting for, me to kill a man!?”

Cassie just laughs and Dahlia’s face feels like absolute fire, she’s frustrated and dumb. And between this shit and Redler’s window, who let her be like this? Did no one ever realize that she clearly does not have a brain? Was she born like this and the doctor was just like eh it’s fine and threw her little empty headed baby body out into the world?

“It’s not a b-“ Cassie tries to speak through red faced laughter, because Dahlia’s misery is hilarious.

“That’s it! I’m moving to Alaska, bon voyage, I’m out!” Dahlia claps her hands and swings her arms dramatically before dropping onto her back on the kitchen floor, crossing her arms over her chest. It’s so dumb, eyes stinging and throat feeling tight. It’s just cookies, she actually wants to cry over cookies, but dear god she can’t even make fucking cookies! It just feels like another failure.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Cassie stands up and comes around to talk to the dejected puddle of deputy, “it’s not a big deal, don’t be dramatic, alright?”

“I’m not being dramatic, between this and Redler’s window, I’m just gonna dye my fucking hair and run away to Alaska so no one knows who I am and no one can find me.”

“What happened to Redler’s window?”

“I broke it…”

“Why’d you do that?”

“I was trying to punch Pratt and he moved!”

“Holy shit.”

“Aren’t you suppose to be helping me?”

“Umm, pack plenty of coats and I wouldn’t recommend going blonde.”

“I hate you. Why do all my friends bully me?” She asks, thinking of both Cassie and Pratt being shitheads with her. She expects it from him, but Cassie, really?

“We do it with love, I assure you, now get up.”

“No.”

“I’m serious, okay, you can write a note and put it by them, most people expect no bakes to have peanut butter anyway.”

“I can’t write a note.”

“Wh- oh yeah your handwriting is…”

“Dog shit, I know.”

“I’ll write it for you then, okay, now get up.”

“Thank you…” Dahlia reluctantly climbs up onto her feet, still pouting when she looks at Cassie who just smiles at her before ruffling her already messy hair.

“You got this.”

“Do I?”

“No. But I’m trying to be positive.”

“Okay, fuck you too I guess?” Dahlia says in mock anger, laughing at the ridiculousness of all of this.

She rubs a hand down her face and gets back to mixing up the rest of them mix, then spooning it onto a pan, after that it’s a matter of letting them set so they can solidify. When she sucks some of the mix off her thumb, she’s pleasantly surprised, half expecting with her luck for it to be inedible, but it tastes fine. Chocolate, hint of peanut butter, and oats. Nothing fancy, but she’s not gagging which is something.

“Here, that should help, if you end up taking these,” Cassie says, showing a notecard with a warning for peanut butter on it.

“What do you mean ‘if’ I end up taking them, they’re not bad, they actually turned out pretty well.”

“Well, they might not set.”

“What?”

“Sometimes no bakes don’t set properly and you end up with just puddles of chocolate oatmeal instead of proper cookies.”

“What the fuck…what?”

“Not to literally bring you down again, but, um, no bakes are kinda finicky and not a great choice for beginners.”

“I’m never baking, cooking, broiling, roasting, or whatever the fuck else you call this shit ever again.”

“That’s probably best for everyone…”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. I’m gonna head to bed now.”

“Yeah, now you got your fill of entertainment.”

“Don’t stress too much.”

Dahlia sighs as Cassie leaves, shoulders still tense. She just wants to make a good impression, she nearly ruined her chance at that with the church barbecue, only by the grace of far too patient people did she manage to come out of it with hopefully some friends. Dahlia doesn’t have the religion barrier in this situation, so she should be better off? She hopes, she doesn’t expect to be best friends with anyone or be welcomed like family, but the more people around here like her the better. Hopefully with Pratt there, some of her nerves will be tamped down on. She’s closer to her coworkers now and has a few friends, so it shouldn’t be too bad, despite her struggle with crowds and socializing. She crashes down onto her couch, yanking her hair tie out before she goes to sleep.

She’s up early to take Cassie to work before she goes to the barbecue, the older girl bustling to get ready as Dahlia checks on the cookies. Her finger sinks right into one, still wet. Oh no. Maybe they just need some more time, yeah, that’s all.

Once Cassie is safely at work, confirming a coworker is going to take her home, Dahlia heads back home. The cookies are still wet… She’s going to scream. There has to be a way to make them set? She considers holding a hair dryer to them, but on second thought the heat may just make them melt further.

Frustrated and the time to leave getting closer, Dahlia goes to get ready, hoping by some twist of fate that they’ll be set by the time she’s showered and dressed.

Hair still damp, dressed but with a towel across her shoulders to catch stray droplets, she checks again. Cursing under her breath when they’re still just lumps of wet chocolate oatmeal. She might as well show up with a Tupperware container of slop.

Dahlia slam dunks her failure cookies into the trash a little harder than needed before grabbing the store made sugar cookies. It’s probably for the best with the peanut butter anyway… She throws on her jacket, boots, and helmet before headed out west towards the Holland Valley. Pratt told her the Rye’s property is just outside of Falls End.

Her shitty directional skills manage to not get in her way, thanks in no small part to the signs for Rye and Son’s Aviation. Small blessings she figures. There’s a driveway that cuts through the woods, a cozy house closer to the drive-way, then an outside building and the hangar beyond it.

People are gathered in open space near the hangar, picnic tables and a grill set up. There’s an airplane out, a vivid yellow seaplane with a shark design. She parks her motorcycle along with the rest of the cars and trucks, still a short walk from where the party is. She’s searching for familiar faces, before she walks forwards, Pratt mostly. She doesn’t find him.

Hudson is speaking with Mary May and two women she doesn’t know. One with long dark hair and fatigues, the other a noticeably pregnant woman with hair shaved at the side. They talk and laugh. Despite having felt a little less awkward with Hudson, since spending more time with her, the idea of interrupting or cutting in feels wrong.

Whitehorse is talking to a man she doesn’t know, but judging by the pastor’s collar she can assume his job. Catholicism isn’t particularly common out here and the only catholic church she can think of is the one in Falls End. Not exactly comfortable jumping in there either.

There’s not really an easy place to put herself in, nothing that feels comfortable or right. Everything feels like an intrusion.

“Everyone’s gonna think you’re a creep, if you keep staring like that,” a familiar voice taunting her, Pratt’s standing beside her and she can’t help but smile, tension easing. He’s a jerk, but he’s her jerk.

“Shut up, dickhead, I was trying to see who I knew,” she explains, grabbing the store-bought cookies from the under-seat storage. If Pratt’s by her side, she feels a bit more confident joining in. She’s not sure when he became a rock for her in a situation like this, but maybe it’s best not to question that.

“So, you just bought store crap?”

“Okay, judgey, what did you make?”

“Pff, I can’t fucking cook, the hell are you talking about?”

“What,” she glares at him, if this was all an excuse to fuck with her, she’s killing him, “you said everyone cooks, no store bought crap!”

“And you believed me? Food is food, no one gives a fuck where it came from, well there’s the one time the Seeds brough this gross ass mac and cheese, but that’s another story.”

“What the fuck Pratt? I was up all night trying to make something edible.”

“Take it that didn’t go well?”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Hey Beau, hey Nick,” Pratt calls out and then goes rushing off towards the crowd, he’s leaving her.

“Where are you going?”

“Sorry can’t hear you, need to be near witnesses, bye,” he’s laughing through his words and she finds herself wanting to grab the back of his shirt, to drag him back just so she won’t have to go in alone. But that’s childish…so she watches as her rock runs off to join everyone else.

And once again she’s the sore thumb and maybe if she tried, she could make a new friend. And maybe if she’d just get the courage to talk to someone, she’d be fine. And maybe if she wasn’t such a damn coward, she’d do that. But she’s been the outsider looking in for her entire life and there’s a level of comfort in the loneliness; familiarity in isolation.

When she thinks of it, the people who breach that comfort zone rarely do so because either of them make that step. Circumstance, not courage, is what always brings people into her life. Pratt and Hudson are her friends, because they work together, Pratt more so because they’re made to spend almost everyday together. Cassie because she was in an awful situation and needed a home. Lloyd and Caroline because she needed one. Hell, Eden’s Gate members are the closest to it, but they still sought her out for another body in the flock, not because they wanted her as a friend. Circumstance, desperation, pity, and religious duty.

And as her throat tightens, feet frozen in place as she debates trying to socialize, she realizes…maybe that’s okay. Not happy or pleasant to think of, but okay. She’ll stay in her bubble for another day or the rest of her life; one of the two.

Dahlia throws the cookies back into the under storage and slips her helmet back on, climbing onto her bike, riding away from the barbecue. Music blasting in her ears and racing down backroads on her motorcycle; it feels like home.

Songs change, hours pass, the sun sets and the moon takes it’s place with the stars keeping it company. She’s spent the entire day riding and her heart feels lighter for it, she thinks as she pulls over to get gas, filling the tank. The entire barbecue and cooking thing is a fucking fiasco, but she’s happy now and that’s what matters, so fuck it. She got to spend an entire day doing one of the things she loves most in this world and she has a friend, no matter how they got there, who’s waiting for her at home.

Then her phone rings and Dahlia feels her heart leap into her throat, the hair on the back of her neck raising. That little sixth sense warning her that something is wrong. Because as she’s learned quickly, even her most minor of happy moments must be interrupted by total fucking hell. It’s Cassie and her fear only raises.

“Deputy…” And she’s brought back to the night Cassie called her, that broken and scared voice asking for help, no longer the happy woman who’d taunted her last night. There’s something in the background; some sort of yelling and music.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t know, someone broke a window, I, there’s yelling, they’re doing something, I’m scared to check.”

“You’re at the Moonflower.”

“Yeah, I, I don’t know what going on.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Dahlia keeps her on the phone as she races back, a repeat of Wednesday night it feels like. Just when Cassie was feeling safe, just when things felt good, because of fucking course. She has no idea what hairbrained idea the Moonflower folks got in their head, she knows they hate her and fine, she gets it, but to scare Cassie like that is so fucking wrong.

It looks like they decided to have their own party while so much of the county was away at the Rye’s. There’s a stench of booze around the entire trailer park. Rage is white hot inside of Dahlia when she sees the cluster of them around her trailer, a few cursing when they see her getting closer. She could give a fuck less about the damage, the broken windows or the PIG spray painted across the trailer, but Cassie is there. Curled up and crying, surrounded by broken glass as they shove and push at the home.

“Everybody stand back!” Liam calls out; lighter in one hand, bottle of booze with a rag in the other. And she’s on him, tackling him to the ground beneath her. The lighter and would be Molotov thankfully fall away without igniting. Instinct and anger pushes her to raise back her fist and slam it into Liam’s face.

She’s blacked his eye, skin breaking at his eyebrow and making his blood stick to her knuckles; then someone is grabbing her from behind, pulling her off of him. Dahlia slams her elbow back into the person’s gut, making them let go of her, she watches as Liam gets up, The crowd is surrounding them, no doubt ready to dogpile Dahlia if she tries to go after him again. He’s smiling and laughing, like an asshole, she wants to punch him again.

“Quite a temper you got there, deputy.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Fuck is wrong with me? You’re the cop running around hitting people over a trailer,” he taunts her, reminding her that she should be better than this.

“Fuck you, this ain’t about the god damn trailer!”

“Wh-“

“Deputy…” A broken timid voice rings out from behind Dahlia, Cassie… When Dahlia looks over her shoulder, she can see her friend on the porch, just poking her head out from behind the door. Her eyes are wide and Dahlia wonders just how much of this mess she’s seen.

“Shit…” Liam murmurs and the smirk is wiped off his face, eyes wide.

“Everything okay, Cassie, I’m taking care of it. Go back inside, okay?” She watches as Cassie goes back in with a timid nod.

“I… we didn’t know anyone was home…”

“Oh so it’s all okay, everything’s fine ‘cause you didn’t fuckin’ know! You could have killed her, you dumb fuck!”

“I-I’m-“

“Save it! Get the fuck away from me before I do something I regret.”

Liam gets the picture, he has something more to say, everyone else there seems to too. But, no one’s stupid enough to test their luck or maybe smart enough to know this isn’t the time to talk. Once they’re all gone and she knows they’re not going to do anything stupid, again, Dahlia goes back to the trailer.

Cassie is curled up on the couch, knees pulled up to her chest. The inside of the trailer is a mess; broken glass from windows, beer bottles, trash, rocks, and a brick that was probably used to break it. All thrown inside while Cassie sat horrified.

“I’m so sorry,” Dahlia says and sits next to her, extending an arm to hold her.

But Cassie flinches away, curls up deeper upon herself, as if Dahlia’s even attempt to comfort had scalded her. And the deputy’s heart seizes in her chest, pulling her arm back, seeing the blood on her knuckles. Did Cassie see her hit Liam? How much of her rage did she witness? Bloody knuckles, red faced, and nearly frothing at the mouth as she screamed her anger out… She must have seemed more like a monster than a friend.

And Dahlia’s reminded of Genevieve all at once, the child of Dahlia’s mother and Father Monroe, the deputy’s half sister. The young girl, she’d be no older than eleven or twelve by now, was his blood and his golden child for it. And he told her of every one of Dahlia’s so called faults, sins he believed she committed, and convinced the child Dahlia was a monster in their home. And for so long she treated her like it; flinched from her affection, cowered at her sight, and shrunk away from her at every moment. As if Dahlia was the boogeyman, she fought for years with silly stories and blanket forts to coax her own sister into loving her. But, progress was always quickly undone. Every effort to chip through the wall he’d built between them was met with abuse, egging on her anger so he could make a show of her sin , so Genevive would always see Dahlia as the monster who’d spit her blood and bare her teeth rather than give in.

Now, she’s there again, another person flinching from her, terrified of the monster she’s shown she can be. Scared that one day those bared teeth will be at her throat instead of at another's. And Dahlia truly can’t blame her.

“I…know it’s the only option…but I really don’t like it here…”

Dahlia had wanted to offer an invitation for Cassie to stay, those passing ideas of having a roommate, how nice it’d be. At the time Dahlia thought she could keep Cassie safe, that this is better than the hell she had with her mother. And maybe for a few days it was, but if this is the kind of shit that can happen, all Dahlia’s done is taken her out the pan and placed her in the fire. Almost literally… Cassie could have been burned alive if Dahlia hasn’t made it back in time…

Cassie needs someplace else and the conversation with Whitehorse resurfaces, Eden’s Gate. They take people in, the only conflict she was saw was when Layla was at a store, but the church and the compound were safe…protected. They have plenty of land to house anyone who needs it and apparently they have the heart to do so. The Seeds can be a little off, but they’re not bad…

“I got an idea,” Dahlia speaks up.

“What’s that?”

“You got anything against Eden’s Gate?”

“I mean, I’ve heard some stuff, but I don’t know much about them. I’ve seen Faith a few time and she seems nice.”

“She is, they, uh, they take people in sometimes…I can take you up to Joseph’s church and we can talk to them.”

“You think they’d help me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I think I’d like that.”

“Okay then,” Dahlia jumps up from the couch, “get dressed and lets get you packed up.”

“Right now?”

“You wanna spend the night here?”

“God no, lets go.”

It doesn’t take long for Cassie to get dressed and pack everything up in the bag Dahlia got from her house. They may be counting their chickens before they hatch, already getting her things packed up, but Dahlia can’t see Joseph turning Cassie away. He’s too kind for that. And even if he were too, Dahlia will find something, even if she has to go barge on Whitehorse’s door.

Dahlia has an arm around Cassie as they leave the trailer, hoping to offer even the smallest modicum of support. Cassie pulls on Dahlia’s helmet, at this rate maybe she should invest in a second helmet. And then with Cassie’s arms wrapped tight around her waist she rides out of the park.

Eden’s Gate is quickly becoming one of the only good places to be in the whole damn county; they got to help her… All Dahlia can do as she rides through winding roads is hope that her faith in the church isn’t misplaced.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #faith seed #this is love #dahlia hale

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wanderingtrash · 5 years

Text

Adore you

Part two to Chèrie

Walk in your rainbow paradise (Paradise)

Strawberry lipstick state of mind (State of mind)

I get so lost inside your eyes

Would you believe it?

There again Y/N found herself. On her oh so familiar white couch that was placed pushed up against the wall of her living room. The walls of her white living room that is. Her body was clad with a baby pink take top and her legs were dressed with a pair of black adida leggings. After such a rough few days she finally got the courage to reply to Harry’s message to her. The voicemail he sent her while she was in the midst of crying and hearing the voice of his ex in the form of a fucking song. Y/N wasn’t going to lie and say she wasn’t hurt or angry. Because she very much was. However Harry did nothing to her-per say. If anything he saved her from pain by breaking up with her until he could get himself figured out and how he was feeling. So he could give that woman as much love as he could without him having to deal with the memories of his ex.

To many that wouldn’t be so great, especially when you loved your ex boyfriend in the months of your relationship. And you DID still love him.

A soft sigh escaped Y/N’s lips. It had been a long day no doubt (not really, but to Y/N it seemed like. Laundry, gym, and then the dishes were quite exhausting if you asked her). Her heart pounded as she saw the flash of Harry’s name across her phone. The wallpaper of her glass iPhone was that of a simple pretty sunflower. It took Y/N a while to figure out how many songs in Harry’s new album were written about her. Or at least the ones she knew of. Sunflower was one and she knew it because that’s the nickname Harry gave her the first month of their relationship. Once he had found out about her undying love of sunflowers that is.

“Why ‘ave you got these things all around your front yard?” Harry chuckled as he entered her home. His dimples smile so bright. He looked happy and content with his life. A bag of groceries in his hand. The smell of vanilla and rose petals embraced his nostrils. His girl did have a way with scents. Especially fruits. The man had come by her house to cook her some dinner as work had infested her day and Harry refused to go to sleep without knowing she ate a proper meal.

“They are not things Harry, they’re my sunflowers. Planted them a couple of day’s ago and they’re already flourishing aren’t they?” Y/N hummed as she lit some candles on the living room. Her obsession with cleaning made for a roomy and welcoming environment in her home. “Besides, it’s nearly that time of month where sunflowers are in season. I’d be a fool not to plant my favorite flowers.” His girlfriend spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re my sunflower all year round though”

Closing her eyes and feeling the pit of her stomach ache as she read the message wasnt something Y/N preferred. She could be snuggled on her couch watching a Christmas movie instead of sitting on her couch nearly wanting to vomit. Her leg shook and she finally unlocked her phone. Clicking on the iMessage app.

‘I’ll be there in a few minutes, traffic in LA is bad today xx H ’

A small roll of her eyes to keep herself from smiling at the small ‘H’ he always put next to his messages as if she didn’t know who has texting her. It was one of those few things that made her love Harry that much more. He was never awful to her. In fact he was the best boyfriend and lover Y/N could’ve asked for. He was amazing in every way. And not just in a emotional type way, but in every physical aspect too.

“Jesus Christ...” Y/N inhaled shakily as she looked up at her clock. It was rush hour in LA, nearly 4 pm. Meaning people were going home from their jobs or even stopping by for some quick lunch or early dinner with their loved ones. What could she reply to him? Hadn’t spoken to him in nearly 9 months. What could she reply? A simply ok would seem too blunt and she wanted to give him an earful when he came for sure. Let him know how pained she was. What she couldn’t tell him before he left for his vacation to Japan after they had broken up. Because now Y/N had time to gather her thoughts, listen to all the songs, and finally learn from a long break of not speaking to him how many issues he himself had been dealing with at the time. As well as just how much of an impact in Harry’s heart Camille’s actions had torn.

There wasn’t much she could do now except hear Harry out. At least in that way she could tell him how she was feeling as well and wouldn’t have to carry a burden of wondering hat would happen if she didn’t get to speak to him.

In what seemed like years for Y/N which was basically only 10 minutes max a knock on her door distracted her from her thoughts. Really her just singing Sunflower for the 100th time in her head (but that was besides the point). A lump in the woman’s throat formed. Tears stung her eyes as she knew who was at the other side. The knock wasn’t rough or loud. But instead soft and gentle. As if the man she loved was trying to let her know that he came with nothing but new energy and a new attitude just for her. Y/N didn’t know that though.

You don't have to say you love me

You don't have to say nothing

You don't have to say you're mine

As Y/N’s knees wobbled and her head felt itself get lighter each second she walked across her living room and her feet touched the soft white carpet under her, it made thinking difficult. She as afraid she would cry all over again in front of him. Because quite frankly Y/N had enough of crying. Her hand finally reached the knob of her front door.

‘Come on Y/N you can do this, stop it’ She mentally scolded herself. With one more huff, Y/N finally yanked the door open. The sun radiated behind the man standing infront of her door. The palm trees moved gently with the LA air too. Harry Styles. The man whom she had loved with her whole heart like it’s the only thing she’d ever done stood at her door step. Wide green eyes full of regret and maybe just a little hope. Wearing a number she wasn’t familiar with as his fashion sense had grown Y/N had learned to see from articles and of course from his Met Gala appearance. It was simple, and so Harry. Y/N hated to admit that she loved it.

His hair had grown out, he looks healthier. Much healthier. He had grown muscles, he had a radiance that she had kind of missed when they were together. He was all in all better. And the pearl necklace around his neck just seemed to sum it all up. Harry Styles had emotionally grown.

Harry could do nothing but offer his ex girlfriend a smile. His eyes crinkled up like she remembered they did and his dimples made deep caverns in his cheeks that were adorned with a stubble. “Hello...” Harry started off. And I’m his point of view the woman in front of him looked Godly. She was amazing in every way and not in just her looks although he loved that about her so much as well. But her overall radiance. He sure had missed her a lot, more than a lot actually.

“Harry” Y/N acknowledged him as she moved to the side. Her hand grabbing the door knob still as if she was using it as a defense mechanism in case she would have to shut the door if things got too much.

Harry placed his hands in his pant pockets as walked in. He didn’t deserve to be back in her home, the same hike in which they shared so many memories. And Harry only hoped they could continue to create many more. Nothing much had changed from what he could see. The curtains were new, but the soft white carpet was still the same, and so were her couches and some of her furniture. One obvious change was photos of them together were no longer up. Even some of the one’s Anne had gifted Y/N of Harry when he was just an itty bitty baby. The man wondered if maybe she had burned them, threw them out, hell maybe she had given them back to Anne. He didn’t know- and Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

They both consciously sat down on Y/N’s couch. Harry looked ashamed and Y/N didn’t look much better. Every fiber of her being and brain was trying to put a hault in her tears as if to warn her that crying would not fix anything. Instead it would just add more fire to a fuel that had been burning for as long as she could remember. Or more specifically 9 months.

“I didn’t come here to ask for you to be in my life again.” Harry spoke after he had coughed into his hand. His fingers rings galore. A H and an S on one hand and a red ruby ring and a rose ring in the other. “I know that’s a privilege that I lost a long time ago when I decided to break up with you in the time that I did. I’m not here to tell you that I love you because as much as I do I don’t think that means shit to you now, and I’m not here to...” Harry sighed and wiped a quick tear away from his eye. It was too late because Y/N had already seen it fall. It made her chest tighten even more. “M’ not here to reminisce in memories that we had, because in my time in Japan while writing this new album I think it was very edvident that I was still thinking about you- amongst other things as well. Y/N I’m just here because I left with no explanation other than the pain that Camille left me with. I didn’t get a chance to pour my heart out to you as my heart at the time was still aching with something else that had absolutely nothing to do with you. N’ it wasn’t fair to keep you in a relationship with me in that state.”

Y/N nodded. Her hands held eachother for dear life, as if she didn’t her whole world would fall apart around her. But she knew it already had.

“I’m so fucking sorry Y/N.” Harry’s voice cracked. His breathing got heavy, swollowimg a heavy lump that formed in his throat only did so much.

Honey (Ah-ah-ah)

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey (Ah-ah-ah)

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

“I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry for leaving you with nothing but your own doubts that I loved her more than you, because I swear to you that’s far from the truth.” Harry said sadly. His eyes were already red. His hands played with his rings. “I just had something in my heart from my relationship with her and I didn’t know what is was until I got away from you. I didn’t know how much I wasn’t giving you my all until I heard that voicemail from her again and it made me feel...nauseous. I’m so fucking sorry you had to hear it in that song dedicated to her. I’m sorry. It was the only way I could deal with it and move on.” Harry begged her, and he didn’t know why he was begging her he just was.

It was quite again, for only a few seconds but it was quiet. All Y/N could hear was Harry’s weak sobs and his rings clinking against eachother as he played with them.

Until finally it was her turn to speak.

“I don’t blame you for still feeling the impacts of her and your relationship with her. That’s far from why I was so upset and angry.” Y/N said. She looked up at Harry. His face was contorted with pain and sadness. It was hard to see a man that was always so silly and always so loving be so sad and angry at himself.

“It’s not your fault that you felt the way you did even in our relationship. And I won’t lie to you and say that I didn’t hurt like a bitch because it one hundred percent did hurt to know you still felt some way about her, but that pain was nothing compared to feeling like maybe I wasn’t enough, like our relationship wasn’t enough.” She heard Harry let out a sort of whimper that sounded like it was full of pain. “I asked myself that night you left for Japan what I could’ve done right...when I heard you in that song beg her not to call him baby...I wondered if maybe when I called you that I reminded you of her.” Y/N let a soft sob escape her lips.

‘Way to go Y/N, you’re crying again’ she thought to herself.

“For fuck’s sake Harry, you talked about her in that interview with Zane Lowe just a few weeks ago and for the first time you addressed her as your ex girlfriend. I don’t know what hurts more, loving you so much it hurts even after this or questioning your true love for me after all these months.” Y/N said softly as she looked down at her hands. The poor woman was just broken, and she was so hurt it aches her heart to see him like this but it aches even more to know how much he was hurting in the time of their relationship. “But Harry I realized that it wasn’t me, it was never me. It’s not my fault this happened and that you felt this way. It was a tough pill to swallow to admit that to myself.”

You're wonder under summer sky (Summer sky)

Brown skin and lemon over ice

Would you believe it?

“I know...I know, m’a fuck up. She was the first serious relationship I had. Then you came and you made me view that what I thought was a perfect relationship with her, was nothing of the sort.” Harry croaked out. He fixed his view on the floor and shook his head. A pity laugh at himself escaped his lips. Camille hurt him but he hurt Y/N more. What did that say about him?

When he found out she wanted to break up it stung. Camille had been on tour with him and they had the time of their lives. He truly thought he found the love of his life. After the break up he found out she had been talking to someone the entirety of the tour. And she left him for that Grecian billionaire.

“Harry do you think I’ll just be smiling finding out everything you’ve admired through those fucking songs?” Y/N said angrily. “Saying that you miss her and that you still talk to her friends?!” Y/N yelled. She was in so much pain. So, so much pain. Harry winced but he sniffed and nodded. Those were feelings from long ago, but he had to let her take her anger out. Something that had been coupled up inside her for months. He could name the songs he wrote about Y/N, because as much as she didn’t know most of this songs are about her.

She, is about their secret sexual innuendos in the beginning of their relationship. When her and Harry would have sex at least five times a day in the comfort of some hotel before they went back to their lives, because both of them didn’t want anyone to know. And Harry would daydream about the days until he could have her again.

Watermelon Sugar, is about how amazing she tastes when he would go down on her. And he would suckled on her sweet nectar. The reference to berries is because that’s her favorite fruit. And Harry always told her that’s how she tasted. Told her it made him high especially because her taste was just so amazing. He would often find his hand down his sleeping pants while his head would be tossed back in a hotel room in Japan as he vigorously rubbing his hand up and down his cock thinking about her and the sexual escapades they had together. And after he would feel like absolute shit because he truly does love that woman and she was probably hurting while he was thinking about her in such an intimate way, he had no right.

Adore you, Sunflower, Golden, Canyon Moon, Fine Line. They were all about her. Just that one song Cherry, was about Camille. And Falling had regencies to both of them but mostly Y/N. Because truth be told Harry thought about the perfect woman in front of him throughout his getaway in Japan.

“I don’t deserve you and I know that, I was hurting Sunflower, I don’t know what you want me to say. I-“ Harry paused and looked at Y/N. Who no longer looked angry but she did look like she was ready to kick him out of her house. Maybe it was betrayal what she was feeling, and Harry never felt more like shit in his entire life. “I still love you a lot. I’ve finally gotten over her, I had gotten over her it’s just...she hurt me a lot and I needed time.” Harry mumbled to Y/N.

“I never stopped loving you, you big dummy.”

You don't have to say you love me

I just wanna tell you somethin'

Lately, you've been on my mind

Honey (Ah-ah-ah)

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey (Ah-ah-ah)

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

It's the only thing I'll ever do

Harry felt a sigh of relief escape his body at the realization by his love. His heart filled with heaviness was light and suddenly he felt himself smile through through teary eyes. Y/N scooted clsoer to him and she sobbed into his chest.

She just missed him so god damn much.

And he was just so filled with love.

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey (Ah-ah-ah)

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do (Ah-ah-ah)

(It's the only thing I'll ever do, it's the only thing I'll ever do)

I'd walk through fire for you (It's the only thing I'll ever do)

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey (Ah-ah-ah), oh, honey

(It's the only thing I'll ever do, it's the only thing I'll ever do)

I'd walk through fire for you (It's the only thing I'll ever do)

Just let me adore you (It's the only thing I'll ever do)

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles fanfic #one direction imagines #one direction one shot #1direction #1d preferences #one direction preferences #harry styles imagines #1d #harry styles cherry #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #fine line

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broken-hearts-lives-among-us · 5 years

Text

Pretending (Part 4) Jughead J. x Reader

Hi~ Long time no read haha, I honestly drop this story because my life became busier with college, and then I stopped watching the show as the plot lose my interest. Yet, as I was reliving my Tumblr I came across with Part 3 and Part 2, which I really enjoyed, so I thought I might just give the story an end, since I’m fond to the characters of the show and my own OCs, Not really sure if anyone is gonna read it, specially since I won’t be following the exact plot and timeline as the original show, but, I kinda feel that’s what an imagine is about, so ooopsie

—

Summary: Drama in Riverdale seems to never end, your home-life was a mess, your past was still hunting you, yet, breaking up with your boyfriend was the last straw that broke the camel’s back. How are you supposed to go through all the chaos that was coming? Are you going to keep pretending to be the normal nice girl? Or his your heart willing to reveal it’s true skin?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Jughead Jones x reader

Words: 4583

Note: English isn’t my first language, I deeply apologize for any mistake.

Disclaimer: Since I’m writing this as someone who doesn’t follow the current plot of the show, I’m unaware of the fandom’s situation, so I just want to clarify that this fic is only meant to entertain, it doesn’t hate or trash in any character, I still love the cast of the show so I’m not here with any negative vibes, pls keep it like this, I’ll try my best to write the most human, imperfect, mistake makers characters, you’re welcome not to read if you don’t like it, thanks y’all!

“Easy there, Hot Dog.” you said calming down the little dog that seemed overwhelmed by the presence of the beanie-less Jughead Jones III. “He’s family.” You added smirking at him, quite pleasant by the shock in his features.

Tall Boy started talking, dragging his attention from you to the man. “We heard your dad could have named names, but he didn’t.”

His eyes were on you just as he heard that, you just winked an eye to him.

“We wanted you to know, no matter what happens to him, however long he's gone, we've got your back.”

The serpents were all looking at him, some with decision and compromise, some with thankful welcoming eyes.

“This is yours… If you want it.” You mentioned, giving him a leather jacket with the Southside Serpents’ logo.

Your heart flattered as you saw him putting on the jack.

Good Lord, he’s hot.

No one could deny how good Jughead looked in that jacket, it suited him perfectly, he belonged to them. You looked at him, smiling as you with that quirky sparkle in his eyes, and he smiled to you slightly.

Like it was meant to be.

“Juggy?”

Snap.

That’s how you felt your world while you and the Jones kid both turn around to see a pretty blonde girl hiding her body behind the wall, confusion marked all over her face. It didn’t take you long to notice the state of her clothes.

His clothes too.

Oh.

Noticing the sudden mood in the air, Jughead spun around seeing at your figure with horror in his eyes.

“I think we might have interrupted something, gentlemen.” You said towards the group without looking at him. “We should leave.” You got down the stairs as you suggest the departure.

“Dismiss.” Ordered Tall Boy, everyone following you, as you became smaller and smaller with the distance.

You collapse in your homemade bed as you arrived at the Whyte Wrym, you’re staying in a little room at the second floor thanks to the fact that the manager owned FP a favor. You felt Hot Dog jumping by your side.

“Can you believe it Hot Dog?” you said looking at him incredulous. “I mean, yeah we waited because when we started to date we were too young to make that kind of things, but even tho, hell they have just been some months together.” You covered your face with your hands, memories of Jughead’s touch filling your mind.

He was so fucking good and lovely at bed.

And now all of that was in hands of the Cooper girl.

“Here comes the green-eye monster Hottie.” You announced looking at the puppy. “How he dares forgetting me so easily? I’m glad we ruined their night.” You huffed crossing your arms.

As your head started to hurt you decided it was better to sleep than overthink. You cuddle as you could, embracing Hot Dog between your arms, closing your eyes hoping that the next day you would be blessed to avoid the beanie boy.

Successfully, you hadn’t see your ex for a week or so, apparently, he kept dumping classes to go to the northside, but who could blame him? With all this Archie’s father being shot and The Black Hood thing going on, it was pretty normal for him to be there.

If not, he was shut in the Red&Black newspaper office. It was kind of funny, yet kind of sad how you two would remain like strangers under the same roof, even if not so along you were soulmates.

With that being said, today was an odd day, you entered your class as normal, your presence shutting down everyone as usual, walked to your destined seat, in front of Toni, diagonal to Sweet Pea and beside Jughead. What?

You faced at your left being welcomed by those intense blue-greenish eyes that could make everyone in the room faint with a stare. You looked sights for a second, broke apart when the professor entered the room.

He started to talk, the class started to become noisier, making the teacher fight for the attention, it made you grew impatient at the idiotic attitude of your classmates. You harshly kicked the desk at your right startling everyone, the room fall in silence just a second later.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.” said the professor continuing with the lecture, you nodded absently as you tried to focus on his words rather than the handsome boy next-desk that couldn’t keep look away from you.

The class kept the same pace you had managed to achieve, your mind spaced out as the clock’s tic-tac rhythm filled the room, making everyone count the seconds unconsciously. Distracting you from the pass of the time a little paper ball was throw to you from your left.

You opened cautiously, no bothering in turning around to see the paper’s owner.

“What was that?” was written in a small quick handwriting.

You furrowed your eyebrows crumpling the paper and throwing it away.

Just a few seconds later another paper ball landed in your desk. You sighed no bothering open it, you just set it aside.

A minute later it wasn’t a ball what arrived, it was a full paper plane with the words ‘Stop ignoring me’ written at a wing.

You opened it tired of the little game.

‘What was that?’

You rolled your eyes taking a pen answering. ‘What was what?’ you threw the paper at his direction not even looking, you could hear Toni chuckling behind you, well at least she was having fun.

The paper was with you a minute later, his plane form was built again.

‘Earlier you hit a desk, and everyone shut up.’

‘Yeah, you’re welcomed.’

You extended your arm to pass him the paper this time, your hands touched as he took it.

‘I owe you my life ;P but my question was why did they shut up because of you, they looked afraid.’

You couldn’t help but smile a little at the little face he drew in the paper. ‘Oh no, they weren’t afraid. Well, not at all, they just respect me. And lets just keep it like that.’

You looked at him finally, leaving the paper at his desk. “End of the conversation.” You said quietly, the bell ringing just a second later, you took your stuff and stormed out of the class before anyone else.

Jughead’s PoV

I sat at the canteen with the other serpents, my eyes instantly scanning the place to see a certain Y/H with Y/H/C.

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked as she was nowhere near to be seen.

“She doesn’t sit with us.” Said Sweet Pea bluntly.

I just throw a confused look to Toni.

“She just sits there.” She said calmly pointing out at her in a desk a little far away, all alone.

“What the hell?!” I felt by heart sinking in fear at her sight “You just let her sit alone?! The Ghoullies are gonna eat her alive!” as sudden as I said that the table broke in laughs.

Noticing my unbelieved face Toni faced me. “I kind of think she sits there to protect us.”

“How?” I asked as her answer didn’t make any sense.

“Well, she used to sit with us, but the Ghoullies did come to bother her even if we were with her, after that she started sitting alone.”

“The Ghoullies stopped coming, just focused on her.” Continued Fangs.

“Why?”

“Because she was Southside’s bookworm.” Answered Sweet Pea making me glared at him because of the nickname he has given to her.

“And even if we tried to help her she stopped us.” Fangs sighed as everyone else nodded.

“But now none of the Ghoullies has the guts to face her.” I looked up at Sweet Pea who was smirking at Y/N’s direction.

I arched a brow confused. “Are you kidding me?”

“No” said Toni smiling. “It’s true, it was awesome Jones. One day an idiotic asshole Ghoullie mentioned her family and threated her about hurting her cousin.”

“She exploded.” Fangs concluded with a glint of joy in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I said gulping the anxiety out of my voice.

“She beat the hell out of him and his friends.” Sweet Pea nodded fondly at the memory.

“Sweet Pea had to stop her when she took the fire extinguisher.”

He nodded again. “I’m still curious about what she would have done with it.”

“That’s how she finished earning the respect of all the gang and the school.” Toni finished, all looking at Y/N’s desk where she ate an apple reading a little book in her other hand. “She looked so hot. The serpent’s loner wolf.”

“Riverdale’s Sweetheart.” Argued Fangs earning a glare from Toni.

“Southside’s bookworm.” Said SP taking part of the argument.

I felt my blood boiling at their comments. “That’s enough.” I scold them loudly dragging their attention to me. “Stop tagging her for God’s sake. She hates that. You can’t just classify her in a category you know? Y/N is just too unique to fit in one of those mundane descriptions.” I ranted taking my tray.

I leaved the serpent’s safe zone and proceeded to walk towards the girl with the serpent jacket and the book.

“Mind if I sit?” I said taking the seat in front of her.

“I actually mind, yes. But as always you’re just gonna do whatever you want.” She said not even looking at me.

I took a moment to appreciate her, with all the shit that has been going on the town, I hadn’t notice her subtle change, her makeup was just a smidge more notorious and rebellious, her hair was more wild, her soft face was now contrasted by her hard expression, her Serpent jacket embraced her body in all the right places, she emitted this new sensation of power and sassiness, even with the sweet glimpse that was still in her eyes.

“You know Jones? That look you’re strolling all over my body can be consider sexual harassment, jail won’t be seen good at your curriculum.” She said quietly, yet cold enough to freeze my train of thought.

I blushed furiously as she noticed it. “Sorry, it’s just… You look different.”

“I guess.” She muttered bluntly.

“It suits you.” I smirk at her slightly.

She looked at me for the first time in all the conversation. “Thanks.” Her eyes sunk down at her book again, I didn’t feel her blush, her voice didn’t stutter neither, her eyes didn’t look at mine with warm, unlike every time I used to compliment her, and it hurt me, the fact that she treated me like a stranger was slowly killing me.

“Y/N… Listen, I’m being honest. I don’t like our current status.” I said snatching her book to have her full attention.

“Oh, you mean ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend? Well I’m sorry it bothers you, but it wasn’t my decision.” She took the book away from me.

“I know… I know I hurt you and I’m sorry for that, I didn’t mean to screw up the things between us, but, can’t we just be friends? Please…”

She locked eyes at me, thinking quietly, she slowly began to open her book, ready to ignore me again. Being as fast as I could I took the book again this time my other hand has gripping her wrist.

She sighed. “I guess I could pretend to.” I could her the bluntness in her voice.

“Pretend?” I repeat quietly amused. “I was expecting something more real… Like a true friend, I need you here Y/N.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s disappointing to you but is the best I can offer you.”

“Why can’t we just be friends, like when we were kids… Come on, don’t you miss me…?” I hold her hand between mine, craving to feel her warming soft skin.

“No. We can’t.” She removed her hand from mine.

I silently cursed, her rejection hurting me down my soul.

“Why not?” I asked bitterly.

“Because friends don’t love each other like I love you. Because friends don’t crave for the touch and the kisses of the other. Because friends can be okay to see you with your girlfriend. But I can’t, I can’t be your friend because I’m in love with you, you idiot, I want to be your girl, I want to be your best friend, your confident, your person. But I’m not, so don’t ask me to be okay and be your friend. Because I can’t, I just can pretend to.”

I saw her eyes growing watery, but I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t react I didn’t know how, she has never talked to me so harshly. She blinked, stopping the tears from falling, she avoided my eyes and stood up, walking trough the door, leaving me there, with her book between my hands, in the cold lonely bench, in a cold lonely mess.

I saw the book’s cover, it was a little antique poem book we stole from the library some years ago, I flip the pages until end, there in the back face of the book, was a little photo attached with some tape, it was an old polaroid photo of us, with Tobias, the baby was in her arms giggling, I had my hands in her waist as I embraced her, she between my legs, her back leaning against my torso, I was looking at the camera with a faint smile, and she was…

She was looking at me…

I tighten my grip on the book as I exanimated her face, her pupils were slightly bigger, and her smile was little, but warmly breathtaking, her eyes were soft, I knew that expression, it was the same she put whenever she admire something, like an art piece, or when Tobias said his first word, I loved that expression, yet, I never knew…

She saw me like that.

My heart sunk as the realization that maybe, maybe all this time I never took a moment to realize those little things about her, and our relationship, and now it was too late to think of them, maybe…

Maybe I got too used to have her around, that I looked at her, but I didn’t see her.

Life has mastered the irony, as the loner boy was now the one to say hi, when he was the first to say bye, and the sweet girl refused to answer back as she tried hard not to fall apart.

I went to the Red&Black office to clear my mind, I took the local newspaper and my heart pound as a read the headline, a cryptograph from the Black Hood to solve? Sounds like a case for Sherlock Jones, I sat starting to analyze it when the creaking sound of the door caught my attention.

There she was, Y/N herself entering the office with Toni, some boxes in their hands.

“Oh, you’re here.” Toni said putting her box in the desk.

“Yeah… Hey have you seen the news?” I said looking at both.

Y/N just left her box next to Toni´s and stormed out of the room.

Toni looked at me with a scold on her face. “Did you do something to her?”

“W-What? No, she’s just… We’re in the middle of the ex’s war zone.”

“Ex?” She said widening her eyes.

“You didn’t know? I thought you knew her!” I replied mimicking her expression.

“And I do, but she never talked about her love life, I didn’t get to ask her neither.”

I sighed covering my face with my hands. “Don’t tell anyone.” I asked sternly.

“May I ask what happen?” She said raising a brow. “Like bro, who dumps a girl like Y/N? or what did she did for you to leave her. No wait, did she dumped you? That makes more sense.”

I looked at her, too tired to explain myself or to discuss, I just told her everything vaguely.

“So, Mrs. Pony Tail and you started to grow closer, you both develop feelings and she convinced you to try a relationship even tho she knew that you were Y/N’s everything.”

“No!” I yelled angry. “When you say it like that it sounds cruel.”

“And you really just left an almost three years, relationship like that. You’re easier than I thought Jones.”

I growled. “Thanks Toni.” I give her the newspaper changing the subject. “Wanna solved it together?”

She sighted looking at me, smirking faintly. “Hell yeah.”

Y/N’s PoV.

There was an awkward silence in the room, just the sound of the pencils on the paper or the flipping of the pages filling the mood.

I can’t really tell how I ended up in this situation, I just know that I gave up at Toni’s begging for me to join she and Jug to decipher the Black Hood’s code, but she never mentioned it was going to be at Jug’s trailer, neither she told me that Betty was coming too, although the pissed expression in her face makes me believe she had no idea.

The bright side of this was that Kevin had come too, I was so happy to see him that I just jumped into his arms when he noticed me, he was currently resting my back against mine as we helped each other to reach a comfort

“These symbols look so familiar to me.” Said Betty breaking the silence, catching all our attention. “It's like I've seen them before and it's driving me crazy I can't figure out where.” She added sounding frustrated.

“Maybe if you loosened your ponytail.” Said Toni bluntly. I facepalmed internally as I saw the offended faces of the Northsiders. “What? That was a joke, guys.” she cleared, yet it was already too late, I sight hearing Kevin’s indignation.

“Betty's ponytail is iconic and beyond reproach.”

“Kev. It's fine. And at this point, I'm willing to try anything.” Betty said loosening her ponytail as Toni said, being free from it.

I looked at her for a moment as the other returned to discuss the important matter of the night. Betty wasn’t a bad girl, not even close, yet I couldn’t help but be mad, she knew all my story with Jughead, every single fucking detail, and yet she didn’t even think about it when they started dating… But then again, I didn’t have any right in the Jones boy… He was free to fall in love and leave, so was Betty.

I heard vaguely part of their conversation as I started to feel dizzy, getting even sicker as I notice the tension in their voices, there was a war getting near, I could feel it.

“No, I mean like why, why is he killing people? Or at least, why now? We know the Hood's obsessed with cleansing the town of sinners and hypocrites, right? And he seems to be attacking anyone with ties to the Northside.” I tried to focus in Betty’s analysis as my head spun around.

“Here we go with the fake news again.” Said Toni getting in a defensive attitude, I slapped myself mentally finally waking up as I knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“Toni.” I said calmly looking at her. “Breath.”

“No! This Northsiders and their privilege. All you do is demonize the Southside so of course you think the Black Hood's from there.”

“It's not demonizing, Toni. It's stating facts.” Betty excused herself not helping Toni to calm down. “There's way more drugs and gangs.” The little Cooper continued, yet it didn’t take long for Toni to interpose.

“And the drugs you mean which were sold primarily to Northside crackheads? And what about the Northside Neo-Nazis?” Perfect, Archie´s little gang was now on the discussion. I looked at Kevin’s awkwardness, sharing the feeling, as we were the ones in the middle watching all the drama.

“The Red Circle?”

“The Red Psychos, you mean. Hell, Betty, I'm surprised you haven't just come out and said it yet.”

“Said what?”

“That you think the Black Hood's a Serpent. We all know how much you hate us.”

“Okay, Toni. I don't hate the Serpents.”

“Oh, yeah? Says the girl who stole a good friend’s boyfriend, mostly just as a whim than for love. Then, tell me why is it that your boyfriend here lies about the fact that he sits with us at lunch?” She ranted her breath getting heavy, I took her arm as I stood up.

“That’s enough Toni, we should go okay?” she scoffed taking her arm back from my grip but starting to gather her things.

“Yeah I’m gonna go too.” Said Kevin looking away from the situation. “Maybe I can walk you home.” He added looking at us, Toni just glared at him. “Or you can walk me home.” He muttered as we exit the trailer, making me chuckle a little.

I took a last glance at the quirky couple we had left behind, being slightly worried for the fight I knew we had caused.

I sighed shaking the thoughts from my head and I looked at Kevin. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“I don’t know, then you’re gonna be all alone walking in the middle of the night when you return.”

“Who said we were going to walk?” I smiled at him passing him a helmet.

He gasped at the sight of it and looked at me in disbelieve. “No way.”

I just laughed. “This way.” I said guiding him to where I had parked my motorcycle. “Beautiful right?” I said caressing the seat.

“Who would imagine little sweet Y/N in a beast like this?” He said amazed. “Boys most be head over heels for your bad girl version, right?”

“Just a smidge” I winked at him jokingly “Wanna do a bad boy version yourself?” I said sit think in the motorcycle “Come on lazy turtle, hop on.”

After dropping Kevin at his house, winning a worried glance from our local sheriff by the way -I guess laying to him didn’t help our relationship- I returned to the White Wrym ready to shut everything down and gain a good night of sleep.

Since the day after the “solve coding party” was Saturday you decided to help serving at the White Wrym thing you usually did whenever you got the time as a way to show gratitude for your little room and your food. Life was just easier like this, not worrying about anything or anyone, your only problem now was, ironically, Forsythe Pendleton Jughead Jones III. Screw him for interrupting your peace.

“What are you thinking about?” The voice of the pink haired serpent girl woke you up from your thoughts.

You looked at her for a straight second without saying anything as if you were still on a trance.

“Um.. . There’s a murderer on the loose, I have to finish my report before Monday and Hog Eye is running out of tequila” you listed as you cleaned some glasses from the place “There’s a lot to think about Toni”

She raised an eyebrow skeptical “Yeah… Sure… That includes Jughead Jones, am I right?”

“Not quite actually, but it does include the little war that was throw yesterday at his trailer” You looked at her putting a glass down and sighed “They’re not bad Toni, Betty is not just a basic mean girl… She’s nice”

“Are you really defending that white Northside girl? And after she stole your boyfriend?” She asked indignated.

You took a heavy breathe “Northsider or not, that doesn’t matter at all, she’s not bad, and I still appreciate her as a friend. Am I hurt? Yes. Am I angry? Yeah, a little bit. But Betty didn’t put a gun in Jones’ head, he could have said no, yet he didn’t, and is his right, and is her right to fall in love with whoever she wants… I believe in sorority and I can’t just judge her and shame her or hate her because of this… This things… They just happens sometimes. She’s not the bitch you think she is.”

Toni looked at the floor taking your words in, thoughtfully, maybe even a little ashame.

“But” you continued, smiling at her truthfully “I highly appreciate the fact that you like me enough to acknowledge and worry about my feelings, thank you Toni, for real, you’re a great friend” You took her hand squeezing it a little bit, she looked at you slightly surprised at this new face you had never show to her.

You didn’t saw, or heard about anyone from the other side of the own in the whole, it was just as usual as before everything in Riverdale started falling down.

And even if you felt comfortable with the mood, you couldn’t help but think it was a bit strange too, as you saw the moonlight walking down the rain, an uneasy feeling started forming on your gut. Maybe it had something to do with the serial killer on the loose, maybe.

You heard a spray paint can, the unique sound of the paint being ejected against the wall caught your attention, yet you didn’t look for the source, since that wasn’t unusual in this part of the town, you decided it was better to ignored it, but after hearing Archie’s voice you couldn’t help but turn around.

“You can’t just come here and tag our turf.” Said Sweet Pea with anger in his voice. “So why don’t you get your ass back to the Northside before someone gets hurt?” He snapped at Archie threatening.

“Get my way, or someone will be hurt” said Archie without a glimpse of fear in his voice.

“You just made a terrible mistake” you saw Sweet Pea taking his knife out of his pocket, your blood turned cold and you ran as fast ass you could.

“Sweet Pea! NO! Stop!” You yelled, your words trying to reach him. Yet your steps stopped abruptly as you saw with fear the gun Archie had in front of you three, as you heard his heartbroken, heavy, tired and paranoid voice screaming “Who made a mistake?!”

“What the hell?!” Was the last thing you heard from the pair of serpent that was there before they ran off, yet you didn’t run, looking straight into Archie’s eyes.

You watched him carefully as he put the weapon down, breathing heavily squeezing his knees.

You contemplated the big red circle on the wall for a minute “I’ll guess you need a ride” He looked at you saying nothing, still in shock.

“It’s been a long time” You commented as you stopped in front of Archie’s house “The last time I was here Jughead broke my heart” a bittersweet laugh scape from your lips but you shut it as you saw Archie’s uncomfortable expression.

“Sorry, that was something dumb to say” the blush in your face creeped as you apologized.

Archie nooded, not knowing what to say “Do you want to come in and dry yourself?” He asked with concerned seeing your wet dripping because of the rain.

You smiled at him feeling that little nostalgic warmth “Yes, yes please” he opened the door as you followed him, both of you oblivious of the worried blonde her next door.

“Veronica? I think you better come here, quick!” Said Betty, concerned following her trembling voice.

“Archie might cheat on you!” Was the last thing Veronica Lodge heard before hung up her phone.

Hi again~ if you read everything till here and you liked it, thanks for the support! I’ll do my best to not disappear again oopsie

Tag list:

@somethingweird168 @evanpeters3826 @trumpettay @oxoxo0 @superhalsteads @the-mad-girl-with-a-book @beforethebraces @agusdoti @zarinnaaaa @unaveragewriterfreak @k-n-e @letsdosciencekids @immanuelreblogs @prettyylamee @honeyveeeee @sineadgereal @buttercups145

#riverdale imagines #jughead imagine #jughead jones #jughead x reader #cole sprouse imagine #cole sprouse #forsythe pendleton jones iii #x reader #riverdale

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raichoose-gone · 2 years

Text

@lachrymosestorm - Cont. ~ X

Lucy’s legs are screaming in pain, particularly the one she’d injured that fateful night with her sister, but she can’t stop running now. Because this town isn’t safe; because she isn’t safe; because her companion isn’t safe. She has to keep going until the danger has passed, however temporarily that may be, and she at least has to keep going until Dez is safe, too.

“Head for that door!” she agrees, smashing a Creeper away with her steel pipe, praying that upon entering the room up ahead, the endless blare of their radios’ static will cease.

“Get in, get in, get in-” Words frantically leaving her lips as Lucy paws at the handle, grateful that it’s one of the few unlocked doors -

And equally grateful that, aside from a hospital bed and a nightstand, the room appears to be empty.

“Are you all right? Do you need one of these health drinks?”

#lachrymosestorm #welcome to the show. ( I C )#and you will go to mykonos. ( L U C Y )#and welcome home ; embrace your hell. ( S H )#does the darkness know your name? ( V )#hey there to my future self. ( Q U E U E )

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steveusesfaberge · 5 years

Text

Sunsets Back Home (pt. i)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Billy longs to see a California sunset again, he misses the way the sun kisses the rim of the ocean; how the wind carries salt...how the sand feels. He doesn’t think it can ever be the same now that he’s stuck in the middle of Indiana... But...it seems in his dark days, he’s forgotten that despite where you are...the sun always sets the same. A few hours talking with little miss Y/N and he can’t help but give in to a ridiculous arrangement...too bad she can’t make it happen....or can she?

Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): None really...a bit of angst (it’s Billy, c’mon now..)...lots of fluff...and...a hopeful promise to be fulfilled!

Word Count: 7k

a/n: I thought of this on a whim!~ I decided that Hargrove needed a lil’ more love because that boy is....so much more than what people cookie-cut him to be <3 (sorry it’s a bit long, got carrrieddddd awayyyy...<3)

Also...that wink in that gif...hadddd meee weakkkkkkkkk -- WEAK; I say!

Please send requests! I’m excited to write for you all! I have many stories coming out soon, as I’ve got burs/ideas of them written out and ready to be flushed out and made reality! Can’t wait! I wish there was more time in the day..what can ya do? What can you do...<3

Part 1 (you are here) - Part 2 - Part 3

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Most wouldn’t think it, but he liked sunsets. Yes - the Billy Hargrove - enjoyed witnessing the sight of what most would consider; sentimental and considerate. The dance of light finally meeting its downfall finding solace in the horizon and touch of land as a welcoming embrace. Yes, Billy enjoyed them. If you spoke anything about it though - you’d surely never be able to speak again - he’d make sure of it...(that classic Hargrove style of his).

Back in California, he’d drive down the winding roads linning the coast; to one of the many piers, or find a nice, withdrawn, abandoned stretch of beach and watch the sun dip into the water; simmering with the last lights of day. The smell of the ocean, the feeling of sand underfoot, the sounds of tranquility, and the sight of such a beautiful phenomenon...how could one not love it?

He found himself at peace when watching the great ball of flames and gases have its own tragedy - reminding him that everyone and everything has its own weaknesses; its own flaws. Reminding him that even with those flaws, the sun is still able to rise once again - banishing the darkness of night to the corners of the world. An endless, honorable cycle.

He knew that even if his father’s heart was made of what the sun chased away - Billy could still wake up each morning and go on living. Sitting in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandered back to The Golden State.

He had a cigarette hung loosely from the corner of his mouth, one hand on his chest, the other jaded off the side of his bed. He was in a plain, white tank top, accompanied by denim jeans hanging shyly off his hips. His door was shut and there wasn’t anything he wanted to do on this early evening besides brood in his own thoughts and emotions.

Hawkins, Indiana was nothing like California...nothing like it. They didn’t have beaches - not the kind Billy was looking for (lakesides didn’t count, they didn’t carry the same grand-gestures or even the vast mileage of just...ocean). It was drab, cold, and shit always seemed to be lurking around every damn turn. Hawkins didn’t have the same style as Cali either - with its energy, the air of freedom... Here, Billy felt trapped. Suffocated. Alone. Nothing. He felt nothing here.

They say home is where the heart is, but Billy forgot long ago what such a phrase meant. Throughout his years, he found that if you gave away such a vulnerability, you’d only end up stabbing yourself in the back. People were not to be trusted, because they were snakes who had venom dripping down their fingertips, hiding in the grasses ready to strike a weak heart down without a second thought. A handshake was a deathwish, and a smile was worse.

Home is where the heart is - to Billy this meant: you cannot trust anyone, because if home is where the heart is - your heart is in your own goddamn chest -- and who else better to trust than yourself? Yes. That was the motto of a lifetime.

And Hawkins...Hawkins...was not home, to begin with. There was nothing to keep him here (besides...begrudgingly...Max, he knew he wasn’t always kind to her, but...he needed her to learn to never rely on someone else, because it would only end up in tears and disappointment. If she knew how to keep herself guarded and hold a level mind...he’d say success to his job as an older brother). He’d always felt alone, even back home...but...now? Billy had nowhere to go. Nowhere at all. Home being miles away from...here.

There wasn’t a California sunset waiting for him at the end of the road; just some crappy gas station adjacent to downtown Hawkins. At the end of the paved road, all Billy could see was his own violence, longing, frustration...he figured driving slowly would only prolong those feelings within him. So he drove fast. Always, always driving fast. If it was all a blur around him, maybe he’d forget who he was and where he was...

Because God...all he wanted was to be found...maybe if he drove fast enough, wished hard enough...someone would see him. The pitiful man he’d become - and they’d see he needed someone...anyone...just...a hand to hold, a heart to love, and a mind to cherish.

And as they say; (though Billy thinks they say a lot of things...can’t they shut the hell up and mind their own goddamn business?) there is more to life than simply increasing in speed. Billy hoped someone would stop him one day. Ask him why he was driving so recklessly...he’d only ask them a question in return. Did I lose the road yet? If they told him no; he’d sigh. I guess I’ll have to be faster then.

Knock, knock, knock.

It came in threes, followed by a soft, even tone. “Billy...can you take me to El’s house?” Max’s voice was heard from behind the door, only muffled to a slight distortion. He rolled his eyes; he wasn’t doing anything - but...the silence of collecting his own mind was more than enough to be doing for an entire decade. It would keep anyone busy if they decided to take a look in that head of his.

“Yeah, yeah - whatever. Just be ready by the time I’m out the door or your ass can walk for all I care.” He heard a soft okay and her gentle footsteps were gone. He wondered briefly if Max too felt alone - but...the images of her smiling and laughing with her friends...that...that was all the family she needed, besides she had Susan (his step-mother) as well, it wasn't like she was completely on her own...He was there too... Billy wiped a troubled simper from his lips, throwing the butt of his joint out the window.

He slid his boots on, grabbed his car keys, and slung his leather jacket over his left shoulder. “C’mon, Max!” He yelled down the hall while tapping his sunglasses down.

The drive was quiet. It always was. Maybe it was because Maxine couldn’t ever speak above the music Billy played, or maybe she just didn’t have anything in particular to say; not to him anyway. He didn’t mind. Her presence was enough.

He slammed on the breaks, and out of the corner of his eyes, catching the redhead brace herself readily (she’d been in a car with him enough times that his driving was more than normal). He watched her climb out, carrying a small bag with her. He raised an eyebrow in question, fingers rapping the steering wheel.

“She asked if I could sleepover,” Max explained while holding a hand up to close the passenger door. He gave a curt nod. “Call me--,” “Yeah, yeah, I know...if I need something or whatever.” He wondered if Max thought he said that out of mockery and habit. Billy meant it...despite how he may sling it, as much as he’d hate to admit it - he’d be back here in less than six minutes if she asked...

He watched her knock on the door, and expecting to see the sheriff - he was greeted with a face he’d never seen before. Leaning forward in his seat, he tilted his head in slight curiosity, not really caring if it was odd he was still parked outside.

His window was open, and their conversation flowed through with ease. He even turned down the radio a few notches; to make sure he didn’t miss a single note.

“Hey, Max! You here for El?” the y/c/h haired girl chipped, holding the door open.

“Yeah! Are you babysitting tonight?” Mayfield asked hopefully.

“Yup, Hop asked me to -- he’s got a late shift at the station, I think,” the young woman explained.

Billy wasn’t quite sure who this was, but he could tell Max was well acquainted. She looked roughly his age - she’d probably gone to Hawkins High without him even noticing; Hargrove rarely ever forgot a pretty face - especially if it had been hers (names, sure - but he remembered their face at least)...he’d have known if they’d met before.

She had y/l/h y/c/h hair, and from what he could make out - y/c/e eyes that seemed excited to see his little sister. He wondered who this babysitter was. So, instead of leaving right away, as he usually did - he killed the engine, the music freezing abruptly - both heads turning just as Max was entering the house.

“Does uh, your brother need something?” Y/N asked while tilting her head, looking down at the younger female.

“Beats me, he never really sticks around this long,” Max didn’t waste much breath on it - not really caring what Billy wanted. Disappearing into the cabin a second later, calling for El.

The y/e/c-eyed girl stepped outside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. “Hey! It’s Billy, right?” She greeted kindly while walking to meet him at the front porch’s steps. Of course, she knew who he was...No one knew his name without his face to match (not a face like his anyway...and certainly not a name like his).

Sure, she’d seen him a few times when dropping Max off - or picking her up. A few more times around the halls at school, and at the basketball games (almost all of them to be truthful)...and once at the pool (deciding to hide instead of being caught by the particular lifeguard).

“Glad you know the name, do I get the pleasure of yours?” Y/N was taken back by his wave of...charm and confidence. She’d seen him around school, philandering up a storm; walking like he owned the place...but...that didn’t matter anymore, because they were both graduated. There shouldn’t be a single title to his name; other than Billy Hargrove. No, Billy The New King, or Boy Toy Billy, or even The Billy Hargrove...as of now - he was just Billy Hargrove...the kid dropping off Max for a sleepover.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N,” she offered, leaning against one of the support pillars holding up the roof over the porch.

“L/N? By chance, you have a--,” “Brother? Yeah, he used to play basketball with you for the school.” Y/N filled in for him. She wondered if he had ever realized that she’d been to all their games, had seen Billy play, and how much of a commotion he made when he got fouled...(she’d laugh about it on the car ride home, her brother only rolling his eyes telling her that if Hargrove ever found out you make fun of him - he’d have your neck).

Billy had no knowledge of this, he didn’t think L/N had a sibling - let alone a sister as attractive as the girl before him. How come he’d never heard him talk about her? Not even a hint of lockerroom talk from any of the other boys either...

“Who knew little Davy was hiding you at home,” he chuckled while lifting one foot to rest on the second step of the porch. Leaning back on his grounded leg, hands in his jacket pockets. He looked like a god on earth and Y/N could understand why David told her to stay away from him. All he cares about is alcohol, sex, and his own skin, Y/N/N -- don’t even think about bringing him home. She’d never believed all of it - well, some of it...from first-hand experiences of watching him have girls fall to their knees with just a wink... Nonetheless, Y/N liked to judge a character for herself - which was why she got along with the party so well -- she lives next door to Henderson for Christ’s sake! She can smell the geek on him...(not that Y/N cared, she’d often go to his house and just hang out with the kid - seeing as he was an only child, and his darling mother worked most of the time. Y/N was an avid babysitter for him - a good friend of Harrington’s at that; which explained why Dustin had a hard time deciding who was his favorite sitter; he told Steve it was him...but...he was really only protecting the brunette’s, dainty heart).

“Ha, well -- little Davy -- is literally, the most overprotective guy, you’ll ever meet,” she explained with a shake of her head and a good-natured sigh. The number of boys David had run off “for” her...He wasn’t any good! He was looking at your ass! I just don’t like him! He was acting out of line... If he saw Y/N now - talking to Billy Hargrove, the catch of them all...he’d have had a heart attack for sure.

Billy only nodded, he understood why. The same reason that he cared for Max in his own way...what did they call it? -- Brotherly love.

He fancied the way Y/N could pull off a solid grey T-shirt like she was wearing Ralph Lauren - preparing to walk the runway. He liked her casual air...a lot.

“Well, seeing as you’re still here - is there something you need?” Y/N asked while trying to steer the attention away from herself and back to the topic of babysitting El and Max (she had a strange feeling that Hargrove didn’t just come here to make sure his little sister went to bed on time).

“Just wanted to see who’d be watching Max for me,” he shrugged earnestly. He ran a hand along his chin and the dirty-blond pushed back a few curls from his view. “Glad to see she’d be in good hands.”

The conversation carried on longer than Y/N and Billy both thought it would, he ended up coming inside when it got dark.

He was sitting at the small kitchen table, the distance so short, if he reached out his hand, Billy could grab Y/N’s. The girls were in El’s room - intimations of laughter would bubble up every now and then, allowing for both Billy and Y/N to breathe easy that both were okay and not doing anything troublesome (so they assumed).

“So, you just expect me to believe...that?” she snorted while shaking her head, using her hands as if to push away the thought and the words he’d spoken, back to where they’d come from.

Billy was leaning in his chair -- slouched -- having one arm resting on the tabletop, the other hung over the back of his seat. He shared a smile with her (and damn did he have a nice smile...whether it was fake or not, Y/N found herself staring for a second too long. Even with the sneaky wink he’d shoot her when he noticed her gaze - she still felt that Billy was being...genuine), while lightly drumming his fingers on the table. His left leg was bouncing up and down...up and down...Billy was clearly the jittery, go-go-go type.

“I’m for real! She didn’t even realize she’d left without them!” He chimed, noting the way Y/N’s y/c/h hair was held back messily with a polka-dotted scrunchie; thinking it was kinda cute how she held such a childish essence.

“But...they were her underwear!” Y/N sputtered, lowering her voice as she spoke, pulling a hand to her lips in obvious disbelief.

Billy shrugged, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “What can I say? One night with me and you’ll forget your own damn name, sweetheart.” Oh, he was smooth...

Y/N had so far taken him as a flirty guy - but she’d also noticed he’d listen when she spoke. He’d give her all his attention, and it washed her in a sense of simple understanding. He’d not be a step out of line when not necessary, and he hadn’t raised his voice once (like he was oh-so infamous for).

Yet, Y/N was reminded by the small voice in her head, that he had almost killed Steve and Lucas only last year...and she recalled the multitude of fights and parties Billy’d pick and crash; sleeping with anything with legs and a pretty face...remembering the distaste the majority of the party held for him (she’d even comforted Max once when she was frustrated with the said boy, claiming that he was just the worst to live with - so moody, so cold, and hateful of everything).

It shocked her honestly, to see Billy act so...normal. It kept her on edge, curious to see if this was just a facade or his charm acting up - assuming those old habits would die hard with him.

“What’re they doing out there?” Max questioned while pressing her ear to the door. She’d heard laughing and talking, and when she and El realized Y/N had invited Billy in - and he’d accepted it...both were left suspicious and confused. Max had expected Billy to burn rubber as he left, the second she got out of the car, heck, he’d have done it with her half-way in. So, she was more than astonished to see he’d come in the damn house.

They were both pressed to the door, trying to understand why Billy was being so...weird. “He better not try anything with her,” Max grumbled while listening to her brother’s hearty chuckles - narrowing her eyes at the sound. Max couldn’t tell if he were being serious or not, his charm held such a captivating lure...no one was safe.

“Maybe he likes her.” Eleven’s honesty had always shocked Max and the gang. She always spoke her mind, and always had something to say with such heart and interest (of course, she knew that El wasn’t the most versed in speaking, but she could speak well enough by now).

“Maybe...,” Max offered lightly, her eyes dodging to the girl,” But Billy doesn’t like girls - he doesn’t like people, for that matter! Not like that anyway,” The redhead explained, only partially listening to the conversation held between the two eighteen-year-olds about Billy’s job as a lifeguard. She was too fixed on but Billy Hargrove hates getting to know people...Billy Hargrove hates small talk and cuts to the chase of whatever he does...Billy Hargrove hates going slow...

“Maybe it’s different this time,” El proposed while offering a shrugged solution, lifting a hand to scratch her neck.

“Maybe.”

“Are you sure you wanna go now, Billy? It’s really la--,” “It’s fine, dollface. This isn’t my first time driving in the dark, L/N,” he chuckled as he stood himself to full height. His sunglasses now hanging from the collar of his tank top.

Y/N frowned, playing with her fingers as she glanced outside the nearest window. “Yeah...but...it’s...really dark, and the road here is like - at this weird angle - you know? Like, right where you turn in to get to Hop’s cabin? Yo--,” “If you wanted me to stay. You could’ve just asked.” He cut through her rambling, smiling to himself as he watched Y/N’s face paint pink at his “humor-filled” suggestion.

“O-oh! I mean...I...uh..It did kinda sound like that,” Y/N offered sheepishly, not believing her own feeble-minded mistake (saying such a thing in front of him...of course, he’d take it as...an offer...). That hadn’t been her intention, she just wasn’t sure if she liked the idea of Hargrove driving blindly without a proper road, save for dirt cut through the woods...

Billy only waited, watching her; arms crossing over his broad chest. “You want me here or not? Make up your mind, princess...I can’t just stand here forever.” His tone was teasing, and yet, it was sincere in the oddest way. Y/N bit her lip and glanced around the small cabin, trying to decide what to do with this...rather sticky situation. The girls had long gone to bed - Y/N had peaked in for a check-up, and found them asleep on the floor for some reason...by the door at that. (Billy had been kind enough to carry each to the bed and help Y/N tuck them in, seeing as she wasn’t apt enough to do it as effortlessly as he. She was thrown off to see him so willing and so helpful for someone who Max described as senseless and selfish).

“Um...,” she brushed past him, Billy eyeing her as she did, wondering what she was up to - turning to watch her step to the couch. “This pulls out into a bed - I know that ‘cause Hop lets me stay here a lot.” Y/N confessed a bit shyly.

Billy was so surprised to hear that, that he didn’t even fight her while she was casually offering him to spend the night. “You...stay here...a lot?”

“Oh...uh, since Davy left to Virginia for college, the house is...kinda..ummm...lonely,” she admitted softly. Now that, had Hargrove stunned. He was surprised to hear that leave her lips as a follow-up.

“What about the rest of your family?” He asked while walking over to help Y/N remove the cushions from the pull-out. He was interested in her response, Billy hadn’t known the L/N estate was...lonesome.

Y/N pulled the left seat off and plopped it to the floor. “The only person there is my aunt - but she works....like...a lot. So, I don’t see her very often. She’s a businesswoman or something like that.” Y/N told while struggling to pull the actual pull-out bed from its original placement. “Here, let me do it.” Billy offered.

He didn’t even break a sweat...usually Hopper grunted in inconvenience, as the stubborn old thing was always a bit finicky - it seemed those muscles of Billy’s weren’t just for show (Y/N had presumed they helped him pick up chicks or just to be manly). She thanked him, and then shuffled down the short hallway, looking for the pillows and blankets - Hop usually had them in the closet in his bedroom.

“You home alone most of the time?” Billy asked while following her a bit awkwardly - not really knowing if she’d need help again, nor knowing what to do with himself still there. He hadn’t expected...well...any of this to happen. He was hoping to snag Y/N’s number and leave, or even persuade her to ditch the babysitting and come home with him...(the options had been endless in his mind...Billy supposed he just hadn’t thought of this being one of them).

Y/N didn’t really tell people about her absent home life - from what she knew, she had it easy (she’d heard a few stories from Max...and it had her heart twist for Billy). Y/N was surprised she was so easy to tell him (of all people) - maybe it was just the heat of the moment...

“Yeah - well, since Davy’s gone now - and my aunt doesn’t come back for weeks on end...it’s just me,” Billy admired how she could say such a sad thing without faltering - in fact, he thought the smile on her face was too gently worn for such words.

“Oh, I have a cat named Lolly...-- but I know you meant...like...real company,” Y/N added with a soft laugh. Finding the spare pillows and blankets on the top shelf in the sliding door closet (Hop’s rather messy closet, that is) she reached up on her tiptoes to seize them.

Getting a hold, Y/N passed them down to Billy who stood behind her (closer than she’d like to admit, and closer than Billy realized). He chuckled.

“You sayin’ Lolly isn’t real company? That’s harsh,” he joked.

Y/N could only giggle - she didn’t take Hargrove as the...witty type. She expected a poke about pussy-cats or something lude, she almost felt shameful for how much she undermined him.

“She’s good enough I suppose...likes to hide more times than not though, so really...I’m the victim here.” Billy only offered a crooked grin.

“There, you’re all set up!” Y/N announced, clapping her hands together at the finalized work. Billy was standing a few feet to her left, an eyebrow raised as he glanced over the mismatch pillowcases and random maroon comforter - along with a few other sheets that clearly didn’t make a set. Not that Hargrove was complaining, he had learned to take blessings in life with ease; as they were rarely given out and when they were, they didn’t last long).

He ran a hand down his chin, nodding at their so-called quick thinking and handy-work (as Y/N placed it). “Okay...and where are you sleeping? Hopper’s room?” Y/N hadn’t thought about that...she wasn’t a fan of sleeping in a someone else’s bed (some could argue that sleeping on their couch wasn’t any different, but she begged to differ. The bedroom was a private space and she didn’t feel swell invading that).

She also wasn’t sure if she even had permission to do so - Jim was only expecting Y/N and Max to be staying the night...and not a third guest as well... (if she called him asking about it, he’d get suspicious - and as it was, Hopper treated her as a second daughter - and would drill her about who was there, and if he found out it was a boy...Hargrove at that...he’d flip his lid. Probably never trusting her again - goodness sake...Hopper would hire another babysitter for her as she watched the kids...a sitter for the sitter...).

“I um...I mean yeah...I guess,” she replied while thinking over her options thoughtfully. Hop staying the night at the station meant he’d be back by...she calculated...maybe sometime tomorrow morning. She could fix his room back the way it was, still leaving enough time for Billy to wake up reasonably and---

“Look...if it’s too much trouble, I’ll just go,” Hargrove answered quickly, seeing the slight alarm in her y/c/h eyes. As much as he’d like to stay over - he wasn’t going to stick around if he were a bother. He knew what it was like being bothersome to someone...he didn’t need to add to a new list.

To be frank, Billy himself wasn’t sure why he was being so considerate to someone else’s troubles in the first place. Normally, he’d kill to be out of the house - unsure of what mood his father was in...and how he’d react to Billy being home so late...

Maybe it was because he learned Y/N’s favorite bands were The Rolling Stones, Queen, and Guns N’ Roses (all of which, he approved of). Or that she liked talking with her hands - allowing him to be entertained as she told her stories (Billy thought it was amusing to see such excitement over something as little as that one time I fell because I missed a step and everyone saw it moment). There was also the fact that Y/N talked about Max so highly (while Billy had rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly - as he had a reputation to keep up... he was beaming to think that Y/N thought so of his little sister).

She’d also mentioned a taste for late-night drives and hating a kid named Vance Kerr back in her Junior Year (You wouldn’t know him - he moved to Ohio before you and Max came ‘round. But God...was he awful - let me tell you about this one time he--), and the time Davy and her snuck out to met with Harrington (to which Billy groaned on cue, earning a smack to the chest and a laugh. Oh, shut up, Hargrove!) for a party...

Point being...Billy didn’t do much for other people. He didn’t see a point in putting more energy than it was worth. People were disappointing; conniving; and cruel...that’s what they said about him anyway. That’s what they’d made him believe...

So, for Billy to give Y/N a soft smile - reassuring her it’d be fine if he just...drove home...it took a lot out of him. But...for her? He didn’t mind letting his reputation slip.

Standing on the front porch, arms rubbing away the chills of a summer’s night; Y/N watched as Billy strode to his car. “Billy, I really don’t--,” “Relax, princess. I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy, and fully capable of driving fifteen minutes down the road without losing my way in the dark,” he eased while chuckling. Billy’s left arm holding himself up on the side of his Camaro. While he came off calm and collected, he was truly shocked at her display of...care.

Billy didn’t think it was possible to be so sincere and endearing with someone you’d just met less than twelve hours ago. No one had ever cared enough to ask him to stay the night - not for sex - but to simply make sure he wasn’t driving in the dark...that was honestly...something...he’d consider....sweet (and he rarely used said word; You want your ego stroked? Go ask Harrington to give you a-- it was too...soft...for a guy like him to use and, or be referred to as).

“Will you be okay here with the girls?” He asked, switching the attention back to Y/N, his eyes never leaving her as he popped his driver’s door open. She stood there, leaning against the wooden pillar, arms holding her heat as close as possible before the chilled summer swept it away.

“Oh, yeah! I’ve done this plenty of times! - Though I’ll admit, sometimes I have Steve’s help - I’ll be fine, really! He’s usually only around when all the kids are with us, but I’ll be fine with these two.” Hargrove didn’t like when people talked too much (nor when they brought up Harrington), but for some reason...he didn’t mind Y/N’s rambles...he almost...enjoyed them.

Noticing the slight shiver run down her figure; Billy clicked his tongue shaking his blond head of hair - walking back in her direction. Y/N raised her eyebrows, going to question his actions - wondering if he’d decided to just spend the night instead of going home. She was tempted to crack a joke - but he stopped her.

“Here, you’ll get cold standing there like a moron,” he muttered, sliding his leather jacket around her shoulders. “Bu--,” “I’ll get it back when I pick Max up. Don’t worry, L/N,” he paused, and she swore it, that her heart skipped a beat at that smile of his. Illuminated by the soft glow of the cabin’s porch light, Billy’s skin was glowing golden and his eyes were rimmed with a glittering warmth, their blue color seeming to intensify at that moment. Hargrove’s curly hair had a golden hue - and Y/N had to blink away a faint streak of fatigue to realize that it was simply a few out of place strands and not a halo of sorts...

“No seriously, I’m just gonna go back inside--,” she was cut off again as Billy sighed, a roll of those pretty blue orbs and a tug of the coat to be more snuggly fit about her torso. His hands stilled as he fixed the collar; lingering there for a few heartbeats extra.

Billy licked his lips, glancing away from her for a short instance (but all Y/N could see was the way he bit his lip nearing the end - and the way his long eyelashes brushed his cheeks gently). “Can’t you give a dog a bone, Y/N? I’m trying to say, I wanna see you again...but you’re not lettin’ me do it!”

She was speechless. His hands slowly falling from being so close to her neck, dropping to dig into his jean pockets. “I’ll keep the jacket, Billy. Until you come back tomorrow.” He smiled at Y/N’s response - her gentle blush even evident in the dim lighting. He thought that despite having her back to the light; it really wasn’t fair - because a soft glow seemed to haunt her silhouette anyway (and that just wasn’t fair for him to have to walk away from without looking like a fool).

“Thanks, princess,” he hummed while winking, trekking back down the set of stairs and towards his car. Y/N admired the defined muscles of Billy’s arms, seeming to show-off without him even having to try. She also thought his white tank top was tastefully tight. Shape up, Y/N! You’re drooling! God...

“Oh, and Billy?” He hummed, slowly spinning back to Y/N on the balls of his feet. He was just a few steps from his (still) open car door and questioned her by cocking his eyebrow.

“I-I...I liked talking to you...,” Y/N admitted while playing with the edge of the too-long sleeves (Billy’s jacket fell down to meet her mid-thigh and it was still warm with his presence). “You’re...a...a nice guy.”

Billy only smiled, offering her a soft goodnight, Y/N, and then he was in the car - and pulling out without another word. The music still as loud as ever. Y/N only waited a minute or so before she could no longer see him - silently crossing her fingers that he’d make it home okay...

Closing the front door, she pressed her back to it, soaking in the night’s events at their truest form. She’d talked to Billy Hargrove...and it hadn’t been about sex...(he’d made a few cracks at it - but it was lighthearted nonetheless). Y/N wasn’t even sure why she offered him to stay the night; she told herself it was because she didn’t feel okay with him (or anyone) zipping down the road in the dark...but...Y/N knew there were other reasons. She wasn’t the type to invite guys to stay over; heavens no! (Steve and the boys didn’t count because they were honorary family - even Steve who she’d agree was good-looking...he was too much of a dork to even attempt flirting successfully).

Maybe it was because Billy’s favorite drink was Jolt Cola (an overly spiked energy drink, bursting with caffeine...so much, that she didn’t think it was safe for anyone to be consuming), and he liked late-night drives just as much as she did - windows rolled down, music turned up.

Or how he hadn’t interrupted her unless he had a suitable reason (like when she nervously rattled off, Billy had put a hand to hers and gently changed the subject) - staying respectfully quiet and nodding when Y/N spoke, as a sign of acknowledgment to him listening.

Maybe it was the fact that Billy had a sweet-tooth, claiming he could introduce her to the best kinds of chocolates she’d ever had...or...maybe it was because he enjoyed watching sunsets. Yeah...Y/N liked that about him.

Oh, and the other night - this was after the whole pranking Harrington thing - I saw the most beautiful sunset, like...you won’t believe how gorgeous it was! I...um...know it’s kinda stupid to...rememeber... she’d trailed off when he began chuckling under his breath. A hot new color finding her face, hands tampering with a chipped corner of the kitchen table. No, no -- I don’t mean to make you embarrassed! I...I just think it’s ironic. I...uh...like sunsets too.

When Y/N had asked Billy if he’d seen the one she was talking about, he’d only shook his head, tapping the table with his pointer. Not the sunsets here, L/N. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the ones back home in Cali. I haven’t watched a sunset since I came to this crappy little town. Y/N hadn’t taken offense; too focused on the fact that Hargrove had been missing out on such pretty moments in time - the only chance he’d get to see the sun ready itself to rest, draped in painted colors of pink, red, and orange... It happened every day, and he still managed to miss it.

God -- you’re crazy, Hargrove! What’s the difference! He’d only shaken his head, his tongue skimming the skin of his teeth as he leaned back in his chair. Billy had explained that back home, the sun was different. A California sunset is better than any skimpy one you see here, kid. I’m sure the sunset you saw, was nothing compared to the one happening three hours later in Cali.

Tightening her scrunchie (gifted to her by Eleven - promising to always wear it), Y/N pursed her lips. Well then, Hargrove - you haven’t seen everything this... ”skimpy” town has to offer. Using hand gestures she’d used air-quotes on his words - narrowing her eyes playfully.

Billy had rolled his eyes, lifting his eyebrows once in understanding, though Y/N could tell he was still unconvinced. Sure, doll. Whatever your little heart wants to believe. Y/N had then and there, decided one thing - Billy Hargrove -- I’m gonna show you the most...amazing sunset you’ve ever seen! It’ll blow those California ones out of the water! They shared a smile, Billy’s bordering smirk (at her poor attempt of a clever pun) while competing in a short staring contest. It was as if Billy was trying to have Y/N take her words back if she blinked. She hadn’t. And so he ruined the lovely moment by mentioning she could always blow something else...

Y/N tried settling down on the pull-out bed (previously set up for Billy), drawing the maroon quilt to her chin. She had the radio humming lowly in the background, as she found white-noise the most excellent way to fall asleep. Y/N lifted the jacket, still adorning her body, up to her nose. The collar smelt of cigarettes, a classic Aramis cologne, and what she could only describe as...Billy Hargrove (Y/N made a mental note to tell Billy when returning his jacket that he pulled off Aramis’ scent flawlessly...woody, with a fresh smell she couldn’t place...spiced with cinnamon maybe...and garnished with that masculine touch she thought represented Billy perfectly).

She drifted to sleep with only good thoughts of her night - hoping to prove to Hargrove that he could truly enjoy a sunset...even if it wasn’t Cali’s beach dime reflections and beauty.

Who would’ve known...Billy Hargrove enjoyed sunsets. Y/N wasn’t sure what to anticipate anymore - he’d already thrown all of her expectations out the window (and of course, she’d thought some of it was simply for appeal...as he was notorious for flirting, to which by now, Y/N suspected him to have perfected it - she did not deny him that). Either way, it made her smile as she fell asleep, thinking it possible she had Billy Hargrove all wrong...

The drive home was quiet. Though it was always quiet. Billy didn’t have someone to talk to - the melodies of music being his only company. He was speeding down the road, nodding his head lightly to Scoprions ‘You Rock Like A Hurricane’ as it lulled the night’s silence to something more his pace.

He was rewinding and replaying his night spent with Y/N... Puffing an air of smoke out from his lungs - he held his hand out the window to get rid of the ash (he didn't like getting it in his car after all).

She was unpredictable. Absolutely someone Billy wouldn’t have given the time of day if they’d met in a different situation (and if it hadn’t been Y/N that he’d met, it wouldn’t have been worth a single breath - he’d be certain of it).

Y/N had this...enchanting air surrounding her - leaving Billy with more questions than answers. He wanted to ask about how she felt - now that David was gone...how did she...feel...being home...alone. And if she didn’t mind; he wanted to ask her - shaking her by her shoulders either for the truth - or for an answer of how? How she managed to be okay with being alone... weren’t nights dark and days indifferent? Y/N had mentioned staying at Hopper’s house more times than not - so maybe being alone bothered her more than she led on. If so...they had more in common than he’d originally pinned her for.

Billy would also criticize what Y/N thought was a good sunset. Throughout their talk, he’d learned that she had never left Hawkins - not once in her lifetime. He’d been floored. So..you’ve like...never...been to the beach? She had bashfully said no. God, you would love the beaches in Cali! Our house was like...on the beach...and surfing -- wait, don’t say you haven’t even thought about it before?! Y/N had only rolled her eyes, grin on her lips as she reminded him where they were. She was admiring the way he seemed to lit up like a little kid at the topic of something he really loved. No beaches around here, Hargrove. I’ve never even dreamed about it. Billy had promised, then and there - that he’d one day, take her to the beach to teach her to surf. And as a payment...I suppose you’d need to wear a bathing suit...I like the color red, by the way, L/N. He just had to go there.

In return, Y/N had promised him the most amazing sunset he’d ever lay eyes on. I’m gonna hold you to that, L/N. He’d teased. Oh, I won’t disappoint, Hargrove! On my word! Why he even told her his interest in gentle dying evenings was beyond Billy... He had never told anyone; as it’d totally throw off his image of being this badass, chick-magnet, with no regrets or regards...mainly because desolate failure who missed his old home, dragging daddy issues wherever he went, who also squealed at sunsets didn’t have a ring to it, nor did it fit...

Now pulling up outside his house, Billy cut the engine quickly, his music having already been turned down to a low muted static. Neil wasn’t a fan of Billy’s favored engine roars and revving. Getting out of the midnight blue Camaro, he stepped out his cig and made his way down the busted walk-way in easy silence.

Slipping into the house undetected was a blessing, and he was able to make it to his room without any issues. Kicking his shoes off, he stripped to his boxers. Laying on the bedsheets with nothing but the ceiling to look at...Billy wondered how Y/N was seriously going to pull off a sunset better than California’s.

Billy still believed that leaving your heart carelessly on your sleeves would only result in disaster...but, he was reminded that he’d given his entire jacket away - so screw the sleeves...he had neither.

He could only hope Y/N spared him that...mercy was the gift of a genuine soul...and good God...he hoped she was forgiving - because Billy wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but he’d found himself slowly letting his guard down. All of that time spent building it up - brick by brick with stones of malice and contempt.

All that being threatened by a lonely girl with a grey T-shirt and a polka-dotted hair-tie...topped off with (a now) sick leather jacket.

“This damn sunset better be worth it, L/N,” Billy mumbled to the darkness. Lord knows how she’d have answered such a remark.

Falling asleep, Billy thought it possible he had Y/N L/N all wrong...

Sooooo~ what do you think about part 1 of Sunsets Back Home? I wasn’t planning on it being a possibly two-parter (or three), but here I am...XD

Part 2 anyone? <3

Tag List: @novaddictx @mairalynn416 @wefracturedmotivation @truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @billyhargrovescigarette

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove fluff #stranger things #billy hargrove stranger things #dacre montgomery

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bubblegumholland · 5 years

Text

I Fell in Love with the Devil (KOH! Tom Holland X Reader) 3/3

Y/N woke the next morning to the feeling of the bed shifting next to her. Her e/c eyes fluttered open to be faced by Satan’s Tom’s black iris’.

“You watching me sleep?” she teased, pulling the blanket over her bare bosom. His devilishly handsome smirk didn’t falter, “Just admiring the view, love.”

She laughed breathlessly, “So that was... something.” His smirk widened, “Have a Hell of a good time?” She burst into full laughter, “Did you seriously just-?” but she stopped short.

He froze to observe her face, “I love you,” he gently stated.

She stared at him for a moment before looking away. Y/N cleared her throat before climbing out of bed to find clothes. She changed the topic, “Wanna go for a walk?” Tom ignored the pang in his chest. “Uh, yeah...”

____

A couple of weeks passed since Tom declared his feelings for his wife. She continued to pretend it never happened. His demeanor turned cold and he began to ignore the profession as well. If she didn’t care, maybe he shouldn’t either. But when did pretending you didn’t have feelings ever work?

Y/N felt bad after realizing Tom was distancing himself from her. But his proclamation of love was surprising, and she couldn’t shake that he was Satan, he lied all the time. Sure, she did feel something for him, but she wasn’t about to say she loved him. He started coming to bed late and getting up early, in an attempt to avoid her no doubt. He didn’t hold her as she slept anymore. Which was fine...

One day felt different than others, he came into the library, her favorite place in Hell, to drop something she wasn’t expecting.

“We’re done here.”

Her mouth gaped, “What?” He straightened up, “You’re done here.”

“Here? Like Hell?”

Tom’s eyes rolled, “Yes, your new home is much..holier.” Did he mean...? A bright light overcame Y/N and in a flash, she was gone.

______

Tom’s day went from bad to terrible in a matter of minutes. He was off in Purgatory doing deals and “welcoming” subjects when a white shimmering light appeared. A pretty man with sandy hair and blue eyes stood before him. The Angel’s pure white wings spear at attention.

“Hello, Satan.” The handsome blonde greeted.

“God,” Tom replied. “What brings you here?” questioned the devil.

God smiled gently, “Is that any way to greet an old friend? I heard about a deal you made with a mortal by the name of Y/N L/N.”

Tom’s stature stiffened, “What of it?”

God chuckled, “Well, I know what she did and why, and I can’t let her rot in Hell with you.”

Satan moved to object but was cut off, “I’m here to save her Lucifer.”

Tom almost flinched at his given name.

“I’m taking her to Heaven with me to continue her eternal journey where she belongs.”

The black-eyed man’s fists clenched, “You can’t break one of my deals.”

The blue-eyed man smirked, “I can if I grace her with wings.”

Tom was dumbfounded, “You’re gonna make her an angel?”

God nodded, “And no, you can’t do anything about it.”

Before the Devil could argue with him, he left as suddenly as he arrived.

____

Y/N was getting really sick of being knocked out and waking up in strange places. This place could be the definition of the opposite of Hell. Unlike the last two realms she woke up in, she immediately knew where she was. Heaven. What she couldn’t figure out, was “why?”

“Welcome, my Angel.” An incredibly gorgeous man spoke. Y/N felt her cheeks flush but ignored the red blemishes.

“Why am I here?” she asked.

“I couldn’t stand by knowing a good woman was a slave to Lucifer.”

“But, I don’t want to be here” for a moment she couldn’t believe she had just told the Angel she didn’t want to be in Heaven. “I-I mean, I was happy with Tom.”

His blonde eyebrow raised, “Tom?” She blushed.

“Yeah, I didn’t like calling him Satan, it felt weird.”

“Is that not a red light?” He reprehended

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care. I made a deal with him, and I don’t regret it. Even on bad days.”

God smiled, “And now you never will if my words don’t persuade you perhaps your wings will.”

Her what now? Her e/c eyes widened and she turned her head to glance over her shoulder. Her once blank shoulder blades now were covered by folded wings, her wings.

“What did you do to me?” She cried, slowly spreading the 6-foot-span feathers.

“I saved you from Lucifer, I didn’t want you to face something for horrifying just for saving your sister.”

“How do you know that? And what business do you have making me an angel?”

He chuckled, “I think as God I have a business doing anything I want.”

Y/N couldn’t fathom that she just sat there and argued with God for five minutes.

“Let me show you your new home.”

____

Heaven was amazing as expected. Y/N could see her sister whenever she wanted, although S/N couldn’t see her it was nice to see her healthy for a change. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something or someone was missing. God reminded her that she was just adjusting, telling her she wasn’t actually feeling what she thought she was. He claimed she was developing Stockholm syndrome. But the feeling never subsided. Months went by and Y/N found herself forgetting everything about the handsome devil until she couldn’t remember his name. Eventually she didn’t remember anything about him, but the nagging feeling in the hole of her memory knew something was wrong.

Y/N glided gracefully down the pearly marble floor, approaching the sturdy white doors. She knocked carefully before allowing herself to enter.

“Ah, hello my dear,” God greeted her. His smile was gentle and caring, but felt so fake to the h/c girl.

“Hello..um... I was wondering about my memory.” She confessed. Y/N swore she saw a dark look briefly glaze over his face, but as soon as she thought it appeared it was gone.

‘Whatever do you mean my dear?” He questioned.

“I’m missing memories, I can feel the blank spaces and... I feel like something important is missing.”

“My dear, you’re being delusional-”

“I’m not being delusional!” She snapped.

God looked genuinely taken aback, “oh?”

She stared at the handsome man, “There is something different about me, I’m not like the other angels, they never would’ve spoken to you like that! The angel to defy you was-” That was it. “Lucifer...” she whispered.

The giant door slammed shut behind her with a sudden gust of wind.

“Do not speak that name here!” God shouted.

Y/N raised her gaze from the floor to meet his angry blue eyes.

She swore she had seen the fire in his eyes before, and the name that triggered him was familiar also.

“Who am I?” She asked.

“You are my angel,” he replied cooling.

“Who am I really?” She challenged.

God scoffed and faced his back to her.

“A stupid harlot to the Lord of Hell.”

Y/N was speechless, such dark words had never fallen from his thin lips, and they were so cold.

“Why am I here?” She voiced, parts of memories piecing together.

“Lucifer was growing stronger in confidence, when I discovered the reason was some whore, I knew the loss of her would tear him apart.”

“You ripped me from Hell to ruin Satan? That’s insane!” She stepped back.

He spun to face her, “how was it that the bloody devil could find love in a woman destined for heaven?”

“Maybe he wasn’t the twisted one,” she defended.

He glared at her, “I gave mercy to you. Your crimes were enough for me to dissolve your soul, but your sacrifice was noble to I let you live. My mistake.”

His hand glowed with a ball of energy as he thrust his hand forward, Y/N raised her arms in defense of the impact, that never came. She opened her eyes to see the energy stopping directly in front of her. She quickly shoved her arm towards God and ran for the door as he dodged her blow. she narrowly avoided his next hit as she sprinted down the halls. She was not so fortunate for the next explosive, her large wings embraced the impact.

“GAH!” She cried out and the force knocked her off her feet, her body hit the floor. Y/N rolled onto her back gasping looking up and God with his arms raised.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, she clenched her eyes in anticipation, but once again the pain never came. She slowly opened her eyes when she felt a tear hit her exposed skin. She gazed up at the blonde, his eyes were glassy.

“Just go,” he begged.

“Wha-”

“GO!”

Y/N didn’t need to be told a thrice, she bolted down the corridor with only one last look over her shoulder at the crying man. Biting her lip she dashed down the rest of the steps to the gates of Heaven. Heaven was easy to leave and she knew as soon as she stepped foot out she would never be able to enter again, and she couldn’t care less.

_______

After landing in the land of the living, Y/N wasn’t sure what her next move was. Her wings magically hadn’t disappeared, but the magic blow turned them from a perfect white to an ashy grey. It was the last thing on her mind. She just had to get back to Tom. Tom. That was the name she couldn’t remember, but now she knew that face was something she could never forget. She sacrificed herself to meet him, but that wasn’t an option again. Or was it.

She walked through the park she used to enjoy as a child with her sister, those memories forever engraved in her mind. She knelt at the riverside planning her next words.

“Hi Tom... It’s been awhile, I know, and I don’t know if you want me anymore. But as soon as I remembered you, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I never thought I’d find myself in Hell and enjoying it, but with you. It wasn’t so bad. Somewhere along the way I fell in love with you, and it made the deal entirely worth it. So if I mean anything to you-”

_____

“If you mean anything to me what?” She opened her eyes to meet his hazels.

“Tom!” Y/N ran up to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Y/N...” he murmured into her hair, holding her equally as close.

“I love you,” she stated.

His lips widened into the kindest and most sincere smile she had seen in months.

“I love you, my queen, never leave me again.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

His hands gingerly touched her wings, “They’re grey...” He observed.

She glanced over her shoulder consciously, “yeah, color is kinda damaged.”

“It’s okay,” he pecked her lips, “I like them better broken.”

A/N I finally finished this series. I know it took forever and it isn’t amazing but I had a hard time finishing it so once I got it I had it. Hope you all enjoyed and Thank you so much for 300 followers :) Enjoy my aestetic for the chapter

@loxbbg @saxgirl21 @peterbrokenparker @sam-mercurry-sixx @retrobhaddie @spideyboix @tom-hollands-blog @classysaracsticsatan @i-love-superhero @aaliyah-lampley99 @furiouspaperfarmegg @zabdisamor @babylsn @hamiltoneitownanotch Permanent Taglist: @zabdisamor

#Tom Holland X Reader #KOH Tom holland X Reader #KOH Tom #Tom Holland #Peter Parker #Peter Parker X reader #I fell in love with the devil #Deal with the devil #A Dance with the Devil #BubblegumHolland

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pancakebutton · 5 years

Text

Teacher X Reader Part IV

Summary: Miss Crossland (obviously) doesn’t get off easy after being caught hitting you and you’re comforted by the one and only. Who is this mysterious man who also asks you on a date? Will you comply?

Warnings: *Slightly Abusive* language in the beginning warning, Foul Language, Sexual Content

Word Count: 2,698

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Sexual, Series.

Pairing: Insert Teacher X Reader

A/N: (F/H/P) is favorite hockey player (if you have one if not just replace it with your last name). And (T/NN) means teacher’s nickname.

Masterlist

She slapped me.

My eyes went wide as tears finally began to pool. I was now sitting on the floor, looking up at Miss Crossland who was hovering above me with that same damn smirk on her face. I cover my head with my arms as a shield and cry, “please don’t hurt me.” But I knew no one could hear me as everyone had gone home since it was the end of the day.

“That’s what you get you ungrateful bitch!”

She lurched forward and grabbed a fistful of my hair, I waited for another hit...but it never came.

I open my eyes and see my hero. Matt. He yanked Miss Crossland by the arm away from me and held her as she struggled. I scramble backwards in an attempt to get further away from her, only to bump into something. I look up and suddenly I’m embraced. I didn’t know what was happening behind me since I was too busy crying into the chest of this stranger, but I noticed the room was quiet and we were alone.

Whoever it was began to rub my back and finally spoke, “it’s fine (Y/n) I’m here, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

It was (T/C).

I then felt a wave of safety wash over me and I cried even harder. It’s all I could think of doing.

After a few minutes, I calmed down and finally looked up at him.

“Don’t worry beautiful, Miss Crossland was taken away by Matt and principal Dubois and she was handed over to the police. Matt left his phone recording in the room so there is evidence and you won’t have to deal with her ever again.”

I clutched onto him like he was my lifeline.

“Thank you Mr. (T/C).”

“Of course, anything for you. Do you want me to take you home?”

I let go of him, surprised, I looked up at him to see his smile that melted all my worries away.

“Are you sure sir? Can’t you get in trouble for that?”

“I think taking you home for your safety is the last thing they’ll consider troublesome after this whole predicament.”

He then helped me up and examined my face.

“Damn she really left one hell of a mark on ya.”

“Don’t I need to talk to the police or something to make a statement?”

“If you’d like we can stop by and have them take note of that bruise on your cheek as it can be used as evidence.”

I touched my left cheek to find it was indeed tender and probably bruised. I nodded in agreement and (T/C) took my stuff and we walked to the front office.

After about a half hour of questioning and them taking pictures of my face and arms, they finally let us leave. Usually I drive, but since my parents took the car for work, I told the police I would drive myself so they wouldn’t have to escort me and let me go with Mr. (T/C). After we turned the corner, (T/C) looked down at me and I looked back up, our eyes locking for a few seconds. He coughed, “your backpack is heavy, are your hands the same way?”

I smiled and furrowed my eyebrows in confusion only for him to answer the questions he knew I had.

“Mind if I hold them for you?”

It took a minute to understand what he was getting at, but when it came I blushed profusely and nodded. He quickly looked around to make sure we were alone and took my hand. After turning down a few more hallways, we passed through the back door, and arrived at his nice ass giant white truck.

He opened the door for me and stood close to make sure I got in alright so he could shut the door. I stepped onto the bottom bar and slipped, but felt a pair of firm hands steady me by my ass. My blush deepens and so does Mr. (T/C)’s as he awkwardly chuckles and let’s me go.

“S-sorry (Y/n).”

“It’s fine (T/C).”

And with that I sat down. He closed the door, got on his side, and started the truck and we were off.

After a long silent drive, he eventually spoke up, “you can call me (T/n) you know.” I smile and laugh, “(T/n)? It’s weird calling you that I’m so used to your cool last name haha.” He gave me a lazy but sweet smile in return.

“But only when we’re not in school alright.”

“And when will I be seeing you outside of school hm (T/n)?”

In a split second he bashfully looked down then back at the road, us approaching my home.

“Well, do the leafs play tomorrow?”

“Why yes they do, why do you ask?”

“So many questions from you huh? Well if you’d like, you can come over to my place and watch it with me.”

I was taken aback. We come to a stop and I grab my stuff. I rest my hand on his and softly smile, our eyes meet and I give him my answer.

“I’d love to sir.”

He pulls out his phone and we exchange numbers. As I’m getting out he responds with, “see you at seven then beautiful.”

I squeal internally and could only nod. I close the door and make my way up my porch, once at my front door, I turn back and wink at him before heading inside.

God she was so perfect.

My heart was pounding in my chest as she finally closed the door behind her. I was so scared she’d reject me or worse, but she welcomed me with open arms. I found my fingers tapping along to the radio music on my way home. Once there, I immediately began cleaning everything and went grocery shopping so I could impress her with my cooking skills.

After quite the eventful day, as I drifted off to sleep, I dreamed up every scenario in my head. Some dirtier than others of course, I’m a man don’t blame me! And I fell asleep dreaming about her in my arms, hoping she was doing the same.

The next day, when her class came to an end, she caught my eye as she was walking out and I returned her wink she gave me yesterday. I could tell my coworkers observing the skip in my step, but I didn’t care. Today was my date with (Y/n) and no one could ruin it, especially with Madeline gone. Matt sped walked into my classroom at the end of school bursting with questions.

“How did it go? Did she say yes? Did you use the pickup lines I gave you?!”

“Yes, yes, and yes. She’s coming over to my house to watch the game at seven.”

He fist pumped, making me laugh.

“Hell yes dude! This is perfect, now we can move onto phase two! Making her your girlfriend!”

It felt like my smile couldn’t get any bigger because of him.

“Gosh, how could I ever repay you Matt?”

“You already have Mr. (T/C). You gave me an A, didn’t get me kicked off the hockey team, and you’re making (Y/n) happy. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

I pat him on the back as I felt as if my heart was gonna burst.

“Thanks kid. Now I need some advice, do you think spaghetti is a good first date dinner? Or should I go with steak?”

Matt chuckled, “I’m sure whatever you make she will love. As long as you put effort into it and it doesn’t make her sick.”

He laughs and I roll my eyes, “I’m not that bad Matt geez…do you think I should make a move on her or?”

“I don’t think you should yet, no offense but I don’t think she sees this as a date quite yet though I know she hopes it is. This is more of coaxing her into liking you more, learning more about you, and having her feelings for you grow until she’s yours.”

I nod, “yeah good thinking Matt, glad to see you can use it somewhere” I joke.

“Hey! I’m street smart not book smart ya nerd.”

We both laughed and parted ways, I now had about two hours before she came over so I had to prepare myself and dinner.

I decided to make spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner and to wear my ‘Matthews’ jersey to keep it casual knowing she’d be wearing her own. I showered, got dressed, and began dinner and before I even knew it, seven arrived. (Y/n) knocked a few minutes after seven and I swiftly, but not too swiftly, opened the door. She of course came in her (F/H/P) jersey, but she still looked stunning with her hair done and a little bit of makeup and perfume.

“(Y/n)! Hey come in come in.”

She gave me a warm smile, stepped in, placed her bag by the door, and took off her shoes.

“(T/n)! Thanks for having me over.”

“Oh and of course always a little late huh Miss Maine?”

Her smile then turned playful.

“Oh shush come on the game is about to start!”

She then grabbed my hand and led me over to the couch, but before I sat, I grabbed us some drinks.

I hand one to her, followed by a, “thanks” and I flip to the channel it was on. It was in the middle of the American anthem, as they were playing the Washington Capitals, and she immediately stood, causing me to laugh.

“Come on (T/C) you gotta stand for our country!”

We both laughed and I stood to entertain her and it was over. The Canadian anthem starts and she of course sings (screams) along making me laugh harder. I had barely done anything and it was already going great.

The game starts and ten minutes in the leafs score causing us to both jump up in cheer, her more enthusiastic than me. The second period came and I grabbed some plates with food on it and handed it to her.

“Thanks (T/NN), and you have a beautiful house by the way.”

She dug into the food and hummed in enjoyment a little too loudly making me smile.

“Of course. And thank you, it’s almost as beautiful as you.” I wink, causing her to blush deeply.

She excused herself to the bathroom, but five minutes later when she returned, she sat next to me rather than her old spot on the other couch.

“So (T/NN), have you ever been to a game?” She asks.

“Yeah I’ve been to a bunch of games, every time we go on the Washington trip me and the other teachers sneak out to a game. What about you?”

“I’ve only been to a few, but I go when I can. I should have assumed you were a chaperone of that trip seeing as you are a government teacher.”

We both laughed and the commentators came back on, signaling the start of the second period.

“Why didn’t you sign up to go? I thought you loved traveling? Your water bottle is filled with stickers from all over the place.”

Way to go (T/n) now you sound creepy.

“Oh, well now I would have loved to go if I had known there was gonna be a cute guy on the trip.”

My breath catches in my throat.

Did she just flirt with me?

I realized this had been the first time she had and my eyes quickly darted away from hers. I was at a loss of words, “w-w-well I’m sure Mr. Macmara would still let you go if you asked him. He’s a pretty chill guy after all.” She simply smiles, unaware of what her words did to me.

“Oh yeah? Cool then I’ll totally come!”

The puck drop pulled us from our conversation. I was too engrossed in the game to realize that (Y/n) had slowly gotten closer to the point where she was right up against me.

Then of course to ruin the moment, Zach Hymen rips a nice wrist shot that ends up in the back of the net, causing her to stand enthusiastically.

“Yeah that’s Hymie for ya! What a guy!”

I chuckle, too tired to stand with her but still matching her excitement. She sat, but this time she pushed herself onto me, resting her head on my shoulder.

The third period comes and goes and soon the game was over. We both stood and I walked her to the door while she talked my ear off about how amazing Mitch Marner was after he scored in overtime. I walk her to the door and she turns to me, “thank you for letting me come over (T/N) I had a wonderful time.”

“Of course, if you’d like, would you wanna go on a picnic under the stars with me at Frontenac Park this Friday? It’ll be dark so you won’t have to worry about anyone seeing us.”

She smiled sweetly, “yes I would love that (T/N), well I’ll see you Friday then goodnight.”

Then she leaned up and kissed me on the cheek making both our faces flush pink. She quickly turned and left clearly nervous about what she had just done. I close the door and instinctively my hand reaches up where she had kissed me.

She really does return my feelings.

It felt like my chest was going to explode with how fast my heart was pounding. And my cheeks began to hurt as I noticed I was smiling like an idiot all this time, but I couldn’t help it. She made me this way.

I rummage through my purse to immediately grab my keys to my car. I fumble with them, of course, as my hands shook from the embarrassing moment I had just caused. I hoped he wasn’t watching me through his window or something to make sure I left safely but it’s all my mind thought of. I unlock the door, hop in, start it, and sped off back home. I had told my parents I had gone to Mo’s house for a bit, knowing she’d cover for me, but I hated lying to them like they could see right through me.

My phone goes off, I see it’s from Mo and answer it, putting it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“So you gonna tell me why if your parents called to tell them you were here?”

“Okay okay. But you can’t make fun of me or tell anyone because this means a lot to me, understand?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

I heard what sounded like something dropping on her end followed by a ‘shush’.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

She sounded a bit frantic but playful, “oh it’s nothing, go on.”

“Okaaaayy, so you know how Mr. (T/C) is my favorite teacher?”

“Yeeeeesss, whyyyyyy?”

“Well...he asked me to come over to his house to watch the Leafs vs Caps game and I might have kissed him on the cheek before I left.”

She squealed, “Oh my gosh (Y/N) I’m so happy for you! Oh and don’t be mad but Matt was in the room when you said that.”

I pause, “...wait why is Matt at your place? Ooooooooo I know why!”

“Yeah yeah Matt asked me to be his girlfriend no big deal.”

I then hear a “no big deal?” In the background knowing it was Matt.

I laugh, “oh and he might have asked me out on an actual date.”

I then hear two squeals over the phone.

“What makes this an actual date?” Matt asked.

“Well we’re going on a picnic under the stars this Friday so that seems more romantic than watching a hockey game dontcha think?”

“Omg (Y/N) you HAVE to come over and get ready with me!” Morgan said, taking her phone back. I laugh, “fine, but only if you keep vouching for me.”

“Deal.”

#teacher #teacher x reader #teacher x student

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