#each wheel is still a whole wheel but you remove one and the mechanism stop working

[spoonietimelordy]

Trying to ingrave into my mind that I should not feel invalidated by other systems functioning differently. Most did systems don't know about p-did, when they say things that hurt it's because it's true for them not because they think we're doing it wrong or something.

[shealolz]

HIGH ENOUGH - DABI/TODOROKI TOUYA

warnings & notes: branding skin, mild blood, swearing, guns, creampie

summary: dabi & y/n have seggs. it's that simple. or is it?

genre: smut/nsfw

Dabi/Todoroki Touya x Female League of Villains Member

word count: 2,483

----

your hand rested on Tomura's arm, the man's flaky skin shuddering beneath your feather-light touch.

it would've been an innocent gesture to everyone but you, Tomura, or him.

a light blush covered his cheeks as you stood behind him, maybe a little too close.

of course, nobody would see your hips rocking against his ass and the breathy hitched gasps from his mouth.

they were all too concerned with their own villain agendas.

and also maybe the fact that Dabi was literally smoking from his staples.

so maybe you were grinding on your boss who you were friends with benefits all the while being fucking his second in command.

nothing wrong with that, right?

"y/n-" Tomura hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"pleasuring you boss. why? do you wish for me to stop?" you whispered into his ear, chuckling lightly.

"during our biggest meet-up? yes, I do." Tomura said more steadily only for a whimper to leave his lips.

"aw. it seemed like you liked it." you pouted, detaching from his back to stand next to him. "guess I'm not good enough, huh?"

"what?" he asked like the idea was atrocious. "no, no- you're fine, your wonderful y/n but just not right now."

something swelled in your gut, a certain heat.

so you had a minor praise kink, nothing to be ashamed about.

you smirked and turned to face him. "then I hope you don't mind if maybe this weekend we could meet up."

a manicured grip wrapped around his wrist, your manicured grip.

"Yeah I don't mind just don't be earlier than ten." he sighed.

"good, now if you don't mind I have downfalls to plot." you breathe out, going to your given workspace as you tie the apron around your waist.

you head for your table, your nails tapping against the wood as you map out certain alleyways.

sure the heat in your gut that made your pussy pulse wouldn't leave, that was the whole reason you were trying to get into Tomura's pants, but you could deal.

you had worse anyway.

once some dude edged you on till you were about to orgasm then left you to fucking make eggs.

to put it simply after fingering yourself till you cummed you broke the relationship.

if it could be called one. the two of you really just fucked each other till you were tired.

nothing special.

two hands slammed down next to you and a body pressed against you.

the smell of ash infiltrated your nose.

"what the fuck did you think you were doing with Tomura? I thought you were mine." Dabi growled into your ear.

you smiled a bit and wiped your chalk-covered hands on your jeans. "I dont know what you're talking about." you feign innocence.

his hand grabs your jaw to turn to face him, metal biting into your skin.

"I'm not blind like the others. don't think I didn't see you grinding on his pathetic ass." he snarls.

you shrug. "What can I say? people who melt in my palms intrigue me."

"oh? I don't think I do that, princess." Dabi huffs, letting go of your jaw.

you look down at the chalky mess in front of you and let out a silent breath.

the staring and eye contact had gotten to you and your panties were growing wetter by the second.

"if anything your melting in my palms," Dabi mutters, grabbing your forearm and pulling you away.

"Where are we going now?" you prompt.

"you'll see," he replies shortly.

letting him sit you in his car your hands run over the leather.

sure the League wasn't driving around in Spinner's beat-up van now that the Paranormal Liberation Front was around but the car still never ceased to amaze you.

he climbed into the front seat and adjusted the gear stick and pulled out from the building's parking lot.

there was a gun tucked into his pants.

to avoid showing your curiosity you looked out the window.

"I can see your legs trembling." he sang lightly as he made a sharp turn.

"can you? why don't you fix that then?" you shot back.

"hm? did you want me to bend you over that table and shove my dick into you?" he chuckled, the wind rustling his hair.

"it'd be embarrassing but quicker." you hum.

"calm your tits dollface we'll be there soon."

he drove into a parking garage, one known for being empty.

Dabi didn't stop till he got to the roof of the garage then he parked the car.

unbuckling his seat belt he reclined his chair back a bit.

you shimmied out of your jeans, already preparing for what was about to come.

"I think you know what to do?" he acknowledged.

"yes, I do." you agreed, climbing over the mechanics of the car to sit in the area between the wheel and Dabi's sit.

removing the gun Dabi waved it in your face, making sure you knew it was there.

he wouldn't be merciless if he didn't like it.

from your view, he seemed majestic.

the black cloudy skin in the backdrop, rumbling with thunder, the blue lighting of the car, his spiked belt, and wind tousled hair.

so similar to a god.

one of death.

your life was in his hands.

slowly your hands undid the belt, moving it to the side where you previously sat.

you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his feet to reveal plain black boxers.

Dabi's boner wasn't full-blown but it was still there.

it seemed he got pleasure from looking down on you.

you can let him have this one, you can be his plaything today.

fingers looping into the boxers you pulled them down along with his pants.

his cock seemed to jump out at you and you stared at it.

"it's big." you blinked.

"you're acting like you haven't seen it before." Dabi drawled.

your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into surprisingly soft skin.

beads of blood rose and slipped under your fingernails.

your lips wrapped around the tip, your tongue slipping under and dragging against it.

Dabi rested his head back, his tense posture loosening greatly.

"fuck, I forgot how good you are." he groaned.

the two of you hadn't done anything major in a while, just a couple of heated make-outs nothing more.

with the war rising after all there wasn't a lot of time to do that kind of shit.

tongue wrapping around his dick one hand wrapped around the area connecting to his hips and pumped slowly.

another groan as Dabi's hand found its way in your hair.

"c'mon princess, you can do better. I know you can." he purred, lidded turquoise eyes gazing down at you.

you squinted at him but nodded and sucked on his dick harder.

you were into it after all.

teeth nipped at the slit slightly before pouty pink lips pressed a kiss to it.

you swallowed as you pulled back, a trail of saliva connecting your mouth and Dabi's dick.

letting yourself breathe a bit, you went back in.

his dick slammed against the back of your throat and you didn't mind.

the way his deep moans bubbled from his chest and his grip tightened in your hair were worth it.

choking slightly you sucked, bobbing your head back and forth.

his nails scratch against your scalp, tugging harshly.

without a warning Dabi orgasms, the creamy liquid flowing down your throat and into your stomach.

his semen is at the corner of your lips along with a shit ton of saliva when you pull back.

"asshole could've told me you were finishing." you glare up at him.

he smirks. "that would've ruined the fun of it."

rolling your eyes you push his seat back to recline fully.

"so you wanna be the dominant one now?" he prompts, placing his hands on your hips as your straddle him.

"not really, I just want your dick." you deadpan.

he chuckles and rubs at your hipbones. "Whatever you say, princess."

his dick was already out and hard, his jacket wasn't on in the first place so he was just in his oversized white button-up.

you only had your panties and your bra left so you were almost closed to a state of undressing.

looking up at him you then glanced at your pussy so he would get the hint.

"damn thought I could watch you masturbate, gotta do all the work myself huh?" he huffed.

his finger sneaked under your underwear till they were tugged down.

Dabi frowned. "this won't do."

his finger lights aflame and you blink at the new idea.

your underwear burn to ash and the blue flame goes back. "better."

swiftly you grip his hand.

he looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.

you lean forward so you two were eye to eye.

"turn on your quirk," you order, your hot breath ghosting over his cheeks.

"Oh?" he questions but his finger flames again.

you bring it closer to your inner thigh and you see his breath hitch as he sits up a bit.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

you nod steadily.

he lets out a breath and lays back down, the flame never flickering as you slowly let go.

his other hand grabbed at your thigh, squishing the soft skin between his hands as he starts to brand your other thigh.

your nails dig into the leather of the seats as you bite down on your lip, the metallic taste of blood soon entering your mouth.

a moan leaves your mouth though as your lips stain red.

though it was painful the joy you felt as you were marked as Dabi's made your heart swell.

why did you like the feeling so god damn much?

the flame disappears and you glance at your thigh.

'𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐘𝐀'

"T-Touya?" you stutter out as you pant heavily.

"my name, the birth one," he replies.

you smile at him and press a kiss to his lips which he reciprocates.

"well it's a beautiful one," you whisper against his lips.

you could hear the amused chuckle.

his hand sneaks onto your thigh and rubs at the burn lightly, gaining a whine.

slowly his hand creeps for your vagina and he massages the skin.

soft moans leave your voice box. "a-ah!"

his smirk widened as he adjusts you so his fingers are facing your vagina.

you lower yourself onto him as his fingers pushed through your folds and into you.

the steel of his staples is cold compared to the muscle inside you as Dabi shifts around.

a gasp leaves your lips as your hands gripped onto the leather seats tighter.

then your phone rang.

turquoise eyes looked at you curiously. "Answer it."

you swallow and pat around for your phone, finding it in the passenger's seat.

" 'COCK FACE' IS CALLING "

you press the answer button and place it against your ear.

"eh? y/n? you there?"

Hawks.

"y-yup," you say hesitantly.

"so, you wanna meet later tonight? maybe a couple of rounds?" Hawks suggests and you can hear the pure arrogance through the phone.

he was fucking high.

"why'd you only ever c-call me when your high?" you scoff, pausing briefly when Dabi thrusts his fingers into you rather roughly.

"high?" Hawks echoes only to be cut off when you hung up.

you threw the phone back into the passenger seat and attached your lips to Dabi's scarred neck.

"Who was that?" he groans out, his hips bucking up.

"Hawks," you reply as you bite into his shoulder.

he lets out a moan and turns his head to you.

"so you're just fucking everyone you meet?"

"only the attractive ones."

he snorts but wraps his arm around your waist to tug you closer as his fingers thrust into you harder.

Dabi's fingers move around in a scissoring motion, hitting both sides of you.

your teeth puncture his skin and his grip on you tightens as he pushes his fingers in deeper.

"p-please just f-fuck me!" you cry out.

"you think your ready, dollface?" he hums.

you nod vigorously, turning to face him with desperate eyes.

"if you insist."

he takes his hand out of you and his arm slides from your waist as he picks up his dick.

the boner was fucking big.

how the hell was that supposed to fit in you?

he flips your positions, you now on the bottom as your boobs bounce in their bra by the force.

Dabi lines his dick with your entrance before shoving it in you.

you grip onto his sides with shaky hands as he lets you adjust to his size.

while he waits his hands slide under your shirt and bra and begin to squeeze at your boobs.

"ngh." you mewl. "m-move."

"Your wish is my command." he teased but started to pull out before thrusting back in.

you gasped and your hips bucked forward only to be stopped by his other hand.

"patience love," he mumbles.

he rubbed at your nipple, squeezing your breast, and pressing down onto the skin.

eventually, he just lifted the whole shirt off you and began to suck at the skin all the while thrusting into you.

moans and gasps fell from your lips.

"ah!" "ngh." "h-huh!"

tears pricked at your eyes from the pleasure, it was too much.

your legs were trembling again, signaling a nearby orgasm as Dabi thrust in even harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin sounding through the car.

soon enough your orgasm squirted all over him and he finished into you.

as he pulled out he smiled when looking at your whole.

"d-did you have to cum inside?" you whine.

"what? the cum running out of you looks pretty." he shrugged as he pulled the seat back up.

your legs hit the floor and you sat there, watching the world spin for a second.

then you climbed back into the passenger's seat and began to put on your clothes.

when your shirt was halfway on something cold pressed against your temple.

the gun from earlier.

"did you not like it?" you ask, buttoning your blouse.

you weren't exactly afraid. if you were to die Shigaraki would probably get mad at Dabi and that'd be funny to watch from hell.

"Nah, I enjoyed it, just liked to watch you squirm." he puts the gun back into the glovebox.

he was already dressed, his pants and boxers were put back on and his belt was draped lazily over his hips.

the moon was out indicating you'd been gone for a while.

you licked at your lips as Dabi began to go down the ramps back onto the main street.

"tonight was surely interesting," you say dryly.

"When have things ever been uninteresting with me around?" he joked.

things with Dabi were nice.

even if it was just meaningless and bored sex.

[gotnofucks]

Master of His Own Fate-2

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, jealousy, spanking, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Probably gonna be a four-part series.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

+++++

Why did it feel like everyone had to do their shopping exactly when you had to? You’d bet it was not this crowed earlier. Or maybe it had something to do with the two super-soldiers flanking you that drew people in. You should have just ordered stuff online since this was super embarrassing. Steve’s hand was in the back pocket of your jeans and Bucky was on your other side, pushing the shopping cart with one hand while holding your waist with other. You’re sure you must have made quite a picture, a little woman sandwiched between them.

“Can you remove your hand?” You asked Steve under your breath and he looked away from the cereals he was perusing to glance at you.

“No” He answered and then pinched your ass for good measure. You jumped, your face flushing and you vowed to look at the floor until you left. You had no desire to see what other people thought about you.

“Why are they so colourful? Why can’t it be simple? There are too many!” Bucky exclaimed and you almost snorted. The cereal aisle was like wonderland for Bucky and you’d been walking back and forth here for 10 minutes now.

“I’m gonna go with this” Steve said throwing in a pack of Cap’n Crunch and you rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe Bucky can get Frosted Flakes and we can leave?” You suggested. Steve chuckled, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss on your head while Bucky took your advice and got Frosted Flakes.

“I’m gonna eat them off of you” He muttered in your ear and you bit your lip, flushing dark. You let them lead you around the store, checking off items off their list. It was so domestic you felt sick. This was not normal, and you unconsciously kept scratching your soulmark hidden under a wristband. You tried not to look at it if at all possible.

Bucky had stopped in front of the shelves containing condoms and quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He asked with a sinful grin and you wiggled until free of their holds. You had to bear their presence at home anyway, anymore and you’ll be smothered.

“We’ve forgotten the cheese dips. I’ll go get some while you finish here.” You said and turned away before they could say anything. You heard them chuckling softly behind you and willed your tears of frustration away.

Your life had changed drastically in the past few months since the night Steve and Bucky marked you as theirs. Try as you might, you couldn’t escape them, not when they are two of the most powerful and influential people in the world. You lived with them in their apartment at the compound now, and to say life was hell would be an understatement. Steve and Bucky have separate rooms but most nights you’re sandwiched between them in one bed since neither wants to spend a night away. You’d had more sex in these few months than people probably did in years.

You veered left into the sauces and spreads aisle, absentmindedly looking at the display. It wouldn’t matter what flavor you got, it would end up spread all over you and licked by your two lovers. You randomly took a jar off the shelf and were about to go back when you bumped into someone standing behind you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to the man behind you. His hand took hold of your elbow for a second to steady you before he stepped away and shook his head.

“It’s alright miss, not a problem.” He said with a small smile. You got a look at his face and your heart skipped a beat. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his genuine smile framed by a well-groomed beard. You saw his eyes dart to the jar in your hand and his lips twitched in amusement.

“I’d advise against this” He said pointing to the jar and you looked down at your hands in confusion. “While one may handle blue cheese, you don’t want to try its dip.”

You winced once you realized what you had picked and the man behind you laughed a little as he saw you put it back.

“What will you suggest?” You asked him. This was probably the only normal interaction you had had in a long time outside of work. It did help that this man was what some would call daddy.

“Oh, I am not a good cook. I just stick to the basics you know, less chances of messing up a dish.” He answered and handed you a classic cheese dip. You took it from him with a smile and thanked him. You lingered a moment, for some reason wanting to stay. It seemed like he had the same idea for even though he had picked his own jar, he didn’t leave.

“You, uh – you should get nachos to go with this. They have them on sale.” You said and internally cringed.

“Oh, alright then. Will you show me the way?” He asked and you nodded, leading him around as he followed with his cart.

“You new in the area?” You asked him since all locals knew the store layout pretty well.

“Ah yes, just moved here from Newton, Massachusetts. My name is Andy Barber” The man said and offered you a hand. Your smile vanished even as you mechanically accepted his hand and shook it. Andy Barber. AB. Like the initials on your wrist. Your hand squeezed around your wristband, your heart beating a mile an hour.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy asked and you realized he’d been speaking to you.

“Ah yes, yes I’m okay. Just lost in thought. Here we are, nachos.” You said and uselessly pointed at the display. You told yourself you were being silly, a lot of people with same initials existed. He may not even have a soulmark. Yet as you looked at him selecting his flavors, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than you had in months. You felt belonged, stupid as that may sound.

“So, you live around here?” You wished Andy would stop talking. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to stay and talk the rest of your life away with him.

“Yes, I am a doctor at the Avenger Tower.” You managed to say and saw his eyebrows raise appreciatively.

“Damn, that’s so cool” He said, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I am a lawyer, starting as a professor in NYU from next term.”

“Damn, that’s so cool” you mimicked him and you both breathed out a laugh. You didn’t realize it as you spoke to him that you were walking aimlessly with him around the store, telling him about the sites he absolutely must visit in New York and the best places to get coffee and hotdogs from. You had circled back to the spreads section and stood awkwardly facing each other.

“Uh, it may seem a little forward, but will you show me around the city?” Andy asked, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt. You wanted him to take it off and see if your initials were tattooed in his skin like his were in yours. You were about to open your mouth when a hand wrapped around your waist from behind.

“There you are sweetie, you had us worried.” Steve’s words felt like a splash of cold water. For a few glorious moments you had forgotten your predicament, lost as you were in conversation with Andy. Your eyes met Andy’s and you saw him frown, his gaze narrowing on Steve’s arm around you and noticing how you tried to get out of it.

“I – uh, couldn’t decide so settled with the classic.” You showed Steve the cheese dip, but his eyes were fixed on Andy whose face was clouded with suspicion.

“Steve Rogers” He offered his hand to Andy, a useless introduction since most people recognized him with ease. You thought Andy would almost decline the handshake but, in the end, politely shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service to the nation and the world.” His words were polite and yet there was a mistrustful edge to it. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything and just walk away. You knew how Steve and Bucky could get about other men in your life, and right now you wanted Andy far away from here.

“Don’t mention it” Steve said preening and you took off his hand from your waist and laced your fingers together, trying to pull him away.

“We gotta go, lots to do back home. Thanks for the suggestion mister” You unnecessarily pointed at the jar again and tried to move back but Steve stood still. You were careful not to mention Andy’s name in front of him and you prayed with everything in you that this interaction would be over soon enough.

“Steve, you find her yet?” You closed your eyes in defeat and shame as Bucky walked from the other side and joined your little party. He closed in on you, hands cupping your face and drawing you in a deep kiss. You kept your eyes downcast, not looking at Andy and hoping the Earth will swallow you whole.

“Yeah, she’s was just having some trouble selecting the flavor until this gentleman here helped her.” Steve said and Bucky turned to look at Andy who was frowning harder than ever now. Andy’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t let yourself meet his. Your shame and fear were profound and all you wanted was to leave.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Andy to Steve to you and he straightened, his arm curling around your shoulder, hand resting near your left collarbone just inches away from the scarred initials of him and Steve.

“Thank you, our girl here can be a little iffy when it comes to food” Bucky remarked affectionately but his emphasis on ‘our’ was not lost on either of you.

“Not a problem.” Andy finally nodded and took hold of his cart, ready to wheel it away. You almost sighed in relief, but your heart broke a little when he started retreating. Your eyes met for a brief moment and it seemed as if he would stop but then you looked away and he continued moving.

“What are we going to do with you Y/n?” Bucky muttered once Andy was out of sight. They didn’t care they were in a public place, both of them standing almost on top of you.

“I don’t know what you mean” You whispered and felt Bucky’s metal hand tighten over your arm. You hissed and tried to pull away but found your chin being raised up to face him with rough hands.

“Do you want another lesson on how to behave around strange men?” Bucky asked and your eyes widened, head shaking in negation.

“No, no Buck. Please, nothing happened. We were just talking” You begged, trying to convince him. You watched in horror as one of his hand outright cupped your left boob, fingers splayed so they pressed into the scars over your heart.

“You sure? I can show the whole store who you belong to my love.”

You were ready to start bawling when Bucky started fiddling with the neckline of your top, but it was Steve who saved the day. He gently pried Bucky’s hands from you and tucked you under his arm, pushing your head in his chest with a hand while the other kept Bucky away.

“Not here Buck, look at her. Honestly!” Steve started a swift walk towards the exit with you at his side and you couldn’t help but look back. It was one of those situations where you found the precious thing lost within a sea of garbage when you spotted Andy, his eyes not on you but your arm. You followed his gaze and suppressed a sob as you saw your wristband had shifted after your struggle with Bucky, bringing into view the initials that made your soulmark.

ASB: Andrew S Barber

You didn’t know his middle name but you couldn’t be any more sure of who your soulmate was when Andy’s eyes darted to his own covered wrist the moment Bucky shouted, “Steven Rogers and Y/n Y/l/n you both come back here this very second!”

Bucky was getting your stuff checked out, standing at the cashiers with his grumpy dad face on. Steve ignored him and continued dragging you away towards the exit. Your eyes watered and you tried to stem their flow so you could have one last glance at Andy without tears blurring your vision. You both stared at each other and just before you walked out the doors, even from the distance you saw Andy mouth a promise:

I will come for you

+++++

Fate was a cruel bastard, and you cursed your destiny as you lay curled in Steve’s lap after dinner. No one spoke much once you got home but you knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You were wearing a short nightie, Bucky’s favorite and Steve’s hands were absently massaging you as he read through a new mission briefing.

“Wanda was asking about you again” Steve said, and you blinked at him. Just another thing you loved that they had snatched away from you. Wanda was obviously very suspicious when you announced you’ll be shifting from your apartment to Steve and Bucky’s since she knew you wanted to wait for your soulmate to show up. You would have confided in her had you not been aware of the damage your lovers could cause if displeased. Bucky had strictly ordered you to keep away from her until you were in control of your thoughts, which he was afraid Wanda would read. You had looked to help from Steve, who was softer out of the two, but he agreed with Bucky, “Better she not know anything than us having to eliminate her if she did.” They talked of death and violence with such ease it made your skin crawl.

“Can I see her now? I don’t think my texts are keeping her satisfied.” If only you could get a few hours away from their stifling presence maybe it would be more tolerable. The both of them clung to you like a babe to his mum, and your only respite were the hours you spent working.

“Do you think you’re ready to see her now?” Steve questioned you, finally looking up from his mission briefing. Before you could answer Bucky came behind you and plucked you from Steve’s arms like you weighed nothing and perched you in his own lap. Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“The better question would be if you think you deserve to see her.” Bucky commented, his hand fondling your behind under the silk nightie. You shifted under his touch and gaze, uncomfortable under the stern look.

“I’m minding my thoughts, I promise.” You whined and Bucky’s hand cracked against your ass suddenly. You squealed and he held you down with one hand, the second blow even harder than the first.

���You and I both know that’s not what I meant. I don’t like it when you act dumb.” Bucky snarled and you flinched as he raised his hand again. To your surprise, the slap barely had any force behind it and Bucky rubbed your ass softly as if in apology. You turned your face to peek at him and saw him and Steve locked in one of those silent eye contact conversations that you absolutely loathed. Steve was almost glaring at Bucky as if displeased and Bucky had enough grace to look a little ashamed.

“I wasn’t!” Bucky cried out suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and huffing. It was as if they were continuing a conversation that went from telepathy to verbal and your mouth parted in awe when Steve continued speaking too.

“You would have if I didn’t stop you.”

Your gaze moved from one man to another, confused beyond measure. In a flash Bucky was gathering you in his arms, holding you to himself like he was afraid papa Steve would take away his favorite toy.

“I know my limits Steve. She’s mine as much as yours. Stop it.”

You were sure if you tilted your head up you would see Bucky pouting but instead you observed Steve who was in classic captain pose with hands on his hips and disapproval on his face.

“Do you really? Because it sure seemed like you were about to strip her naked in a supermarket of all places.”

“I wouldn’t! I was teasing her.” Bucky said, his head buried in your neck. He took your hand and placed it on his head and you slowly scratched with your nails, making him purr in satisfaction. Steve didn’t look the least bit convinced and his eyes kept bouncing between you and Bucky. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh before getting up.

“She is sleeping in my room tonight.” Your head snapped up just as Bucky’s hold tightened around you in rejection of the idea.

“No, you can’t take her from me.” Bucky snapped and you resisted the urge to slap them both. It bothered you how they went on talking about you like you weren’t even present here.

“I’m not taking her away from you, pal. Just like she learns her lessons when she fucks up, so will you.”

Bucky didn’t look like he would want a lesson, but it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this talk because he said nothing more. He almost didn’t let you leave when Steve took your arm to take you away but finally relented.

“When can I have her back?” Yep, he was definitely pouting.

“When you learn that teasing is pinching her ass in public, not stripping her bare in front of strangers.”

+++++

It had been a while since there were two people in bed and not three. You stretched your feet out, glad to have some extra space. Even cuddled up in Steve’s massive arms, your thoughts returned to Andy. You had finally found him after years of searching, only to lose him on the same day. It was a cosmic joke to have you cross paths now when it was too late to do anything. Your hand unconsciously traced the letters on your wrist, a slight thrill running down your spine as you finally realized what and who these initials stood for.

It wasn’t just a legend anymore. They were right when they said that soulmates completed you. In those precious few moments you had spent with Andy, all your worries had fallen away. You both had built a bubble around yourself where the outer world was nothing but a distant blur and you saw only each other. Conversation didn’t sound strained and you felt so connected despite having just met. You wished you knew he existed a few months ago. How different would life have been then if you were laying in his arms and not Steve and Bucky’s?

You bit your lip when you felt Steve take your hand in his from behind you, his fingers too tracing the initials on your wrist. You stiffened and held yourself back from snatching your hand away. It was never a very good idea to resist when it came to them both.

“Bucky doesn’t know yet” Steve murmured in your ear as he tapped your wrist. You felt your heart drop in your stomach, your fingers curling in your palm. “He thinks it was just some man you were speaking to. His jealousy makes him sloppy and he doesn’t notice details.”

You were turned around to face him, your eyes locking on Steve’s which were a vibrant blue even in the dark. His hands played at the hem of your nightie, teasing it.

“I noticed of course. How could I not, I have never seen you smile the way you smiled at him” You didn’t seem capable of speaking or protesting when Steve’s hands slipped up your clothing and caressed your thighs and belly. His hands were moving but his eyes were fixed on you and try as you might you couldn’t look away. Slowly, gently like one does to precious cargo you were stripped, your body baring itself inch by delicious inch. The calluses on his fingers rubbed against your nipples and you let out a moan, your slick coating your walls and thighs. Your lips met his in a desperate kiss and you couldn’t help but make pathetic mewls as his tongue raced across your throat. He came to rest above your heart, tracing the scar over it. JBB and SGR

“How are these any different to those on your wrist?” He questioned as he entered you slowly, looking deep into your eyes like trying to search your soul. “If we carve your name on our body, would that make you look at us like you looked at him?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to, the heat of Steve warming your insides. You met in a familiar dance, bodies slapping, and moaning together until pleasure took over every cell in your body. Steve pulled out and released on your thighs, rubbing his essence in your skin, his breath warm on your cheek.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if I find you talking to that man again” It was not a question and you shook your head, tears travelling down the sides of your face and getting lost in your hair. “Good girl. We can forget it and Bucky will never know. Because if that happens, even I won’t be able to help you.”

You reminded yourself that Steve was just as much of a monster as Bucky was. He had taken you against your will too, and while he may as well be the lesser of the two evils, you could not trust him. You turned to your side, automatically curling into Steve out of habit when he held you. That is what this relationship felt like. A habit. It was a routine you were stuck in with no way out. You closed your eyes, seeking the escape of sleep and tried to sooth your broken heart over a love it may never find again.

+++++

Bucky was a terrible stalker and you wondered how he remained a ‘ghost story’ for all those decades. Steve had been hoarding you in his room for nearly a week and you knew Bucky was at his wit’s end. He wasn’t even pretending to hide anymore; he’d just stand across the med bay and ogle you like a roadway creep. You didn’t even know what to do, who should you listen to. Being caught in the crossfire between them is not fun.

You finally had enough and made your way over to him. You were a few feet away when he snatched you in his arms, crushing you to his frame and kissing you soundly. Pulling away, he put his forehead on yours and bit your lip.

“I’ve missed you baby.” He cooed and you sighed.

“Is that why you’re lurking here and scaring my nursing staff away?” Bucky nodded, pecking your lips once more before you moved away.

“I’m sorry about the other day you know. I just…lost control.” It was rare that he would apologize, and you were too smart to reject this small consolation. He will probably be kind and soft for the coming few days and you took what you can. You smiled at him, promising him you forgave him.

“I have just one public hour and then we can go home together. Sounds good?” You asked and Bucky’s smile was almost shy when he agreed. Sometimes you believed it when they say they loved you, but how can someone hurt whom they love?

“You asked me once what I see in you, but have you ever looked at yourself the way I look at you? Here you are, one of the most accomplished doctors working for the Avengers, and yet you give your time to general public to treat their common cold and flu. That’s what I see in you. Your kindness, that light, it guides me away from the darkness in me.” Bucky confessed and you looked away from him. He could be so sweet when he has to be. Both him and Steve. You wonder again if they could always be like that, will you be able to love them.

“I – uh, I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Wait in the common room for me.”

You watched Bucky go and returned with a perturbed mind. The hot and cold behavior almost gives you a whiplash. In the past few months, you have spent several nights crying, but just as many moaning in pleasure. Maybe it could have been easier if you’d given in and just accepted them, but love does not come by force. They can carve their names in your skin a hundred times over, and yet it won’t leave a mark on your soul.

Your assistant entered, informing you that general patients were waiting for you and you nodded. Tony gave you an hour free every day to treat patients outside the tower for free. You believed being a doctor your job should be more than saving just superheroes. One by one your patients trickled in, most with common diseases. Some you prescribed for additional testing; all costs covered by the Stark Industries.

“Your last patient ma’am”

You nodded to let your assistant know you heard her and entered the room. You were looking over a report as you entered, the door shutting itself behind you automatically.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You looked up and the report fell out of your hand. Sitting in front of you was Andy Barber, his eyes crinkled at the sides due to the wide smile he supported.

“I believe I have a heart problem doctor. A beautiful lady stole mine.”

+++++

 Taglist is open for all characters

[houseboatisland]

Henry’s Day Out

***

The driver tapped despairingly at the murky pressure gauge.

“Come on, old boy!” he coaxed, “Try harder!”

The tapping reverberated through the smokey gloom of the shed, even overcoming the din of the other engines slowly sizzling to life themselves. The fireman bitterly wiped a ticklish bead of sweat off the tip of his nose, and dug noisily down into the tender for yet another shovelful of coal.

“Ohh, it’s no use, I’m shattered,” moaned Henry, “I’m not fit to boil a pot of tea...”

“Not talking rot like that, you won’t!” his driver scolded, but the encouragement behind his words was clear, “You’re my engine, and no one can put’cha down, least of all yourself!”

The skinny brown needle twitched behind the greasy glass, almost shyly.

“That’s right, more of that!” he ordered, and feverishly wiped the face of the gauge with a yellowing rag, “Y’know why they call it ‘The Early Bird,’ dont’cha boy?”

Henry rolled his eyes. So did the exhausted fireman, raking the coal fastidiously with his shovel tip for a lump of coal just the right size.

“Because the Early Bird gets the worm, and it’s the first train of the day, and we are out for a worm of our own,” Henry replied mechanically, like all the other times.

“There’s a good lad, I knew you hadn’t given up on me, yet!” The driver’s teeth were pearly against the soot and smut on his face.

A corner of Henry’s mouth quivered hesitantly, but he quickly let the smile flourish.

“No, Theodore,” he hummed tepidly, “I haven’t, and I won’t.”

“Let’s ease you out into the sun, there’s still a bit’ta time before we need to be coupled, yet,” Ted patted his side of the cab, and peered his grease top cap out down the yard, “I want the whole railway to admire my engine! He’s gotta be SEEN to be believed!”

With conservative little whooshes of steam from his cylinder drain cocks, Henry tiptoed gently out of the shed, and drew to a stop.

The waxing light of dawn caught his blue paintwork and red boiler bands, and he seemed to radiate light of his own where he sat. His princely copper chimney cap still sparkled even after all the coal they had burned. He wasn’t an ugly engine by any means. With sweeping frames, tall driving wheels, and a tender of The Fat Director’s own design, any run of the mill passenger or porter would even call him handsome. Several had. Henry didn’t look too far removed from the engines on posters advertising nonstop expresses to Scotland, or boat trains in and out of Southampton.

But that was just the trouble.

“Try not to lose too much steam sitting,” groused the fireman, chucking his second cigarette into the firebox and shutting the door snappily behind it, “At some point, all the coal against the tubeplate’s more trouble than its worth!”

Theodore glared.

“You know and I know the boy can’t help it,” he practically murmured, “If he needs coal, he needs coal.”

“I need arms like an Olympian, feeding him,” the fireman pressed on, “They ought to give me two-and-six for each pound of coal I put on, then maybe it’d be worth it!”

Henry stayed silent. It was better to pretend not to have heard.

“Just leave us a minute and get two pots from Oil Issues, and come back with a smile,” Theodore ordered darkly.

The fireman hopped down, and dusted off his overalls.

“Sure and I will, for two-and-six,” Henry clearly heard him, before feeling him disappear.

Henry gulped.

“I’m... I’m sorry, Mr. Robbins, sir,” he quavered.

“You call me ‘Theodore,’” harrumphed the driver, absentmindedly wiping between the various gauges and handles on the backplate, “It’s that shifty little sod that just went for our oilpots that oughtta call me ‘Mr. Robbins.’”

Henry didn’t laugh, or even try to.

“You know I can’t help the way I am?...”

“Of course I know, boy.”

“And you’re not upset?”

“Bless you, no, boy.”

Henry sniffed. The sun was rising fast and strong now. The rails felt warmer. Vicarstown Station’s all-over glass roof twinkled and glistened in the distance, like a mountain of diamonds. Horses trotted, and their carts squeaked and banged. Somewhere, a policeman blew his whistle. The streets behind the retaining wall were coming alive with throngs of people chattering. The church bells gonged, meaning it was six o’clock. Not long now till coupling.

“...I can pull that train, can’t I, Theodore?”

Theodore firmly held his hand onto the regulator, twisting himself back for a sign of the fireman approaching.

“You what, lad? O-Oh, yes, sure ya can, and I’ll be right here to see to it. It’d be swell if that blasted fireman could get back, though. If I find out he’s knocking about the canteen again, I’ll make him eat your shovel for supper.”

Henry choked. He could feel the time slipping away. The crowds of people, really quite far away from where he stood, seemed to become louder and louder by the second. He needed to go, he needed to go, he wanted to cry. If only he could be allowed to go. Even if he were to need a pilot halfway down the line, even if he needed to be taken off the train altogether, he could bear more than to keep sitting here. He felt so helpless, so trapped by a million forces pushing down on him in that moment from every angle.

It was so unfair.

[mrvltwimagines]

You Deserve Better

SPENCER REID X READER

SUMMARY: Most coping mechanisms weren’t that healthy, you just couldn’t seem to give yours up.

WARNINGS: Self-Harm, Self-Deprecation, Insecurities/Low Self-Esteem

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

REQUESTED PROMPT: Hey. I was wondering if i could request Spencer Reid x Reader where reader struggles with self harm (cutting mostly) and self esteem issues, half convinced he should leave them for someone more mentally stable? - i changed it up a bit so it’s not that he should leave them, but more so go after someone “better”

You groaned at the sound of your phone ringing, pulling you out of your deep sleep and waking you up in your room that was still only lit by moonlight. 

“This is y/n,” you answered your phone without looking at the caller id.

“Good morning, or rather good night, whatever - it’s three am, either will work,” the bright voice of Garcia sounded out over the speaker. You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth.

“Do we have a case?” you ask, getting her back on track.

“Unfortunately so, can you get into the office soon?” she asks.

“Yeah, i’ll be there in twenty minutes or so,” and with that you both said your goodbyes and you were quickly getting out of bed. 

With your first initial stretch you flinched at the pain that spread through your arm. You lightly soothed the ache you felt on your wrist, refusing to pull up your long sleeve and look at the horrible work you did to yourself last night.

You loved your job. You couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else, but most of the cases were hard on your mental health. It made it all that much harder that while you’re an official part of the team, you still feel less intelligent and needed as everyone else. They never said anything to indicate that you could be better, or that you were even a bad team member to begin with, it just sat badly with you that you didn’t know as much as Spencer did (although, no one does) and that you weren’t able to piece things together quite as quickly as everyone else on the team. You were the youngest one, and also the newest one having joined just under two years ago. You were always learning and picking up skills to better your ideologies and techniques to catching serial killers, but in your head you could do better.

You knew there were better ways to cope with your stress and feelings of incompetence than taking it out on your own skin with a razor, but it’s what you’ve been doing for years and with your job it was the quickest way to feel any type of peace. 

Luckily for you, your job was also one that made you forget your own emotions and issues, at least during the time of working the cases. There wasn’t much time to dwell on your own problems when you were busy trying to find a murderer. At least your job can remind you that there is worse in the world than the hatred you hold for yourself.

In just under thirty minutes you were dressed, packed and walking into the conference room just as J.J. showed up too, the whole team ready to get a move on with the case. You made eye contact with Spencer and he sent you a gentle smile as you took your usual seat in between him and Rossi.

“Alright team, it’s a doozy,” Garcia chirps, filling us in on the details of the case we were about to set out on. After reading through the files and seeing the pictures, it was a quick “wheels up in thirty” from Hotch that lead everyone out of the conference room to do whatever they needed to do or gather before heading off to the jet. 

“So, did you guys plan on matching, or is that just a soulmate thing?” Derek asked as he drank his coffee and walked backwards in front of you and Spencer leaving the conference room at the same time. You looked at Spencer’s outfit seeing his purple attire and couldn’t help the smile from forming on your face seeing you were wearing a long sleeve shirt about the same shade as his.

“Maybe I felt it in my soul that he was going to wear that so I chose my purple shirt,” you quipped, rolling your eyes at Derek as he winked and turned back around to head to his desk and grab his bag. 

“So how was your day off?” Spence began, “Did you do anything fun?”

Your mind flashed back to the last twenty-four hours, thinking about how you spent it. The burning on your arm became more apparent and you could feel your face flush at the secret you were hiding from him. The two of you were closest on the team. It might have helped that he was only a few years older than you, or that you had the same views on everything, or that you were able to understand a lot of what he says or even just his nerdy jokes. You loved being around Spencer, and if you could have it your way you two would be more than just friends. Within the few seconds after his question the air was silent and you felt yourself go through a range of all your emotions. 

“It was fine. I just laid around, read some books, watched some tv. The usual,” you shrugged, removing your eye line from his, feeling as if he was able to see inside your mind and see the true things you actually did. Like standing in front of your mirror pointing out all the flaws on your body, or working out until you felt like you were going to faint, or not so carefully carving lines into your own flesh. You were a mess, and you knew that, but the less the team knows the better. You were terrified you’d be kicked off the team, and not only did that mean losing your dream job, but also losing the chance to be working alongside the only man you’ve ever felt even the tiniest bit of love for. 

“What about you, did you do anything fun?” you asked, not wanting to give him the chance to question you more about yourself. As you both grabbed your bags and all the way to car that was driving you to the jet he told you about the little things he did, and all the things he learned and read up on. One thing was for sure, you never felt any true resentment towards how knowledgable Spencer was. If anything you were just always astounded that someone could retain as much information as he does. You knew Spencer was an impossible standard to hold yourself to considering he was an actual genius, you just wish you had something as astounding as his intelligence that others looked to you for. Instead you were just the young, average agent on the team. 

You made small chat with the others as you boarded the jet, and after Garcia hopped on the cam to tell us a little more information as we bounced ideas off of each other, we were left to be on our own for an hour long flight. You and Spencer always sat with each other, but just a few minutes into our own personal time he got up and went across the jet to sit with J.J. to talk to her about something. As much as you just wanted to look out the window and space out, you couldn’t take your eyes away from their interaction and see how hard he smiles when he’s with her. It was dumb to think anything of it considering she has Will and Henry so you knew their interactions weren’t romantically intwined, but you still couldn’t help from floating over her frame and seeing all that you were not. You weren’t skinny like her. You didn’t have a beautiful face, and beautiful hair to frame it. You were average, and you hated that.

You quickly stood up and made your way into the bathroom, locking the door and pressing your forehead against it with a big sigh. All you wanted at the moment was your razor, but you knew the only one you had was buried deep in your bag that was still out where you were sitting. You felt ashamed with yourself that you even felt it was necessary considering all that you did last night, but you were hurting. Without thinking, you pulled your sleeve up, wincing at both the sight of your wrist and the feeling of your shirt sleeve running along the lines. You scratched a bit, letting out a sigh of relief when you felt and saw some of the scabs come undone, leaving small beads of blood to sit on your skin. You felt satisfied enough to grab a wet paper towel and clean yourself up some before pulling your sleeve back down and leaving the bathroom again. 

When you got back out, Spencer was back in his seat and awaiting your arrival. 

“You feeling okay? You look a little pale,” he acknowledged, tilting his head a bit as he inspected you. You habitually connected your hands behind your back as you nodded, telling him you just feel a little nauseous from having woken up so early and not ingesting anything other than coffee. You sat back down next to him, not hesitating to close your eyes and lean on his shoulder. You didn’t see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking down at you and smiling. You had your feet tucked underneath you, and your arms resting on your lap. 

He would’ve usually felt a bit creepy looking at you so closely, but the sight of the tiniest bit of blood seeping through your shirt cause his brows to furrow and his attention to be stuck on it.

“Hey y/n?” he whispers, gently nudging you with his shoulder enough for you to groggily open your eyes back up. You looked up at him, concern written all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting yourself up fully so you can take in his entire face. He seemed to be battling with himself on what to say, and for a second you held your breath thinking he was going to say something along the lines of professing his feelings for you, but instead he just offered a “never mind” and shook his head before looking back down to the files on his lap. You couldn’t hide the disappointment from you face, so you simply turned your head the other way and settled in for a short nap, this time not wanting to touch him. 

Throughout the rest of the jet ride, and all the way to the police station Spencer couldn’t get his mind off of your shirt sleeve. He didn’t know whether it was his business to even question you about it, so he backed off, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to just forget about it. 

He watched you while you worked. He couldn’t help it. He did it out of both concern and admiration. He considered you two best-friends. You had never judged him or made fun of the little things he knows. Instead you always laughed at his jokes or asked him more about a topic if you didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. You had been there for him both inside of work and outside of work, helping him cope with tougher cases, and also helping him cope with his sick mother. You know just about everything in his life and have never showed an ounce of judgement, so he’s trying to do the same, but it deems harder the more he sees the signs. You’re constantly pulling on your sleeves, as if they’ve somehow rolled up your arms on their own. Sometimes you’ll squeeze anywhere between your wrist and elbow and display a look of relief. If he looked closely enough, he could still see the little droplet of blood that he saw earlier, but he determined that if there was anything wrong going on with you, you’d tell him. Right?

You hadn’t missed how Spencer was watching you more than usual. During cases you’re used to working closely considering you bounce off of each other so well, but he doesn’t usually spend so much time looking at you when you’re not even talking. Your mind goes on overdrive, your insecurities settling in. While in one sense all you want is for him to see you, like really see you in a romantic way, in another all you wanted was for him to never look at you that way because then he’ll see your flaws. He’ll see your disproportionate body or your anything but clear skin. You hated to think he’d see you how you see yourself. So when you caught him looking at you for the millionth time that day, you escaped to the bathroom to look at yourself. Your reflection showed nothing out of the ordinary. Your clothes hid whats underneath relatively well, and your makeup hadn’t grown splotchy or anything. You looked how you usually did when you were in your professional setting, so you really can’t pinpoint what the hell he could be looking or thinking when looking at you, but it sure as hell made you uneasy. 

The rest of the day working on the case felt like it went on forever, and then the second day, but finally on the third day you were able to locate and arrest the unsub, saving yet another person from being killed. You loved that part of your job, and you tried to embrace the days you get to the unsub before they’re able to kill another innocent person. 

You reminisced on the flight home, and felt a feeling of personal victory. Due to rooming with Prentiss, you didn’t have enough privacy to do anything harmful to yourself, but the entire trip was a bit of a success in the sense that you didn’t feel the need to bring your blade out. 

You sat in your usual spot next to Spencer on the flight and spaced out as you looked out the window. Your focus was disturbed at the feeling of his elbow nudging you. 

“Would you want to have a movie night tonight? I think i’m finally down to watch that one cheesy vampire movie that you’re always going on about,” he suggested. Your eyes widened as you let out a small squeal, sending a small but gentle clap to his arm.

“Yes! I’d love that! It’s really bad and cheesy, but i love it and definitely want to experience making fun of it with you,” you laughed, your cheeks burning red. You knew he had an eidetic memory, but the fact that he wants to spend time with you and watch a movie that you’ve only talked about wanting to watch with him over the span of months made you feel a bit warm inside. You both agreed on going to your apartment right after you get your reports turned into Hotch just in time for the jet to land and you all to head back to the office. 

Time flew and before you know it you were back at your apartment, doing a quick clean of the small messes you created before leaving for the case as you waited for Spencer to show up with the Chinese food he said he’d grab on the way over. You went into your closet, opting to change into a pajama shirt and shorts before turning to your mirror and grimacing. You’ve worn pajamas exactly like this in front of Spencer many of times, but tonight just felt different. You looked bigger than usual, and you couldn’t stop yourself from turning to the side. Did you somehow get fatter over just a few days away?

The sound of knock at the door and it opening alerted you that Spencer was here.

“Hello!” he calls out just as you walk out of your bedroom, trying to forget your previous thoughts. 

“Sorry i took so long, i decided to stop at home real quick to put on comfier clothes,” he commented while setting down and spreading out all the food on the coffee table without looking your way. You gnawed on your lip, thinking about how you weren’t hungry anymore but leaving it be and forcing yourself to be in the mood for Chinese for the sake of not wanting to seem rude.

“It’s fine! Thank you again for picking up dinner,” you mumbled out, walking closer to him and taking a seat on the couch. He didn’t hesitate to sit down right next to you and put his arm on the back of the cushion behind you. 

“So, you have the movie ready?” He asks while looking down at you. Your mind was on overdrive at how close he was and how you could smell his cologne coming off of him. You could feel the warmth of his side on your own and in that moment all you wanted to do was cuddle into him, but you doubt he would want that. 

You cleared your throat, declaring that it was ready, and you quickly leaned forward to grab the remote and hit play. The beginning scenes to Twilight began to play, and Spencer leaned forward with you to begin plating his own plate full of chicken, noodles and rice. You watched to see how much he put on his plate, envious that a man his size could eat so much and not gain any weight. You plated your own, only taking a little of each entree he got, not wanting to seem ungrateful. He didn’t seem to notice, and you both poured all your attention into the movie.

He watched you plate as little as you could of each entree, and a frown settled on his face. He wouldn’t say you’re a big eater, but he knows for a fact that you would usually plate more than you had. He ignored it this once, assuming you just weren’t that hungry and it wasn’t his place to comment on what you eat. He was just happy to be as close to you as he was, and embraced the warmth he felt radiating off of you. 

All throughout the movie, his mind kept floating back to him watching you over the last case. You definitely had something bothering you, and he took notice that you wore long sleeved shirts every day even though the case was in Louisiana in the middle of spring, so it was at the very least short sleeve weather. Even now you opted for a long sleeve pajama shirt.

“Hey y/n, can i ask you something?” Spencer spoke up in a quieter scene of the movie. You took your eyes off of the screen and looked towards him, your brow furrowing a bit. He sighed, and leant forward to grab the remote and pause the movie entirely. He lifted one of his legs up on the couch to face you more, leaving you with a slight tint to your cheeks at even more of his body touching yours.

“I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, but i consider you my best friend so at this point i feel like there aren’t many boundaries,” he started to ramble, as you just nod at his words. He paused to look at your face, and in that moment you felt a bit exposed.

“I’ve just noticed some habits of yours that concern me a bit?” he stated, but it sounded more like a question. Your heart rate picked up, and your eyes grew wide. This conversation could go so many ways, and to be honest you didn’t think there was any one way you wanted it to go. He took your silence as a go to continue what he was saying, even though he could tell by your facial expression that you were a bit uncomfortable. He just wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t at least question you about it.

“Can i look at your wrists?” he bluntly asks. You’re taken aback, your entire body physically flinching away at that question, and your eyes grow wider than before. You didn’t know what to say, or if you could even say anything that wouldn’t make you seem guiltier than actually showing him your wrists. You kept opening and closing your mouth like a fish stuck on dry land, and you could tell by the look on Spence’s face that he already knew the truth behind the habits he was taking notice of. Your eyes welled up a bit, before simply laying your hands in his lap and looking away from him. He knew what you meant and you shuddered at the feeling of him rolling your sleeves up. 

You were embarrassed. You were ashamed. You were really fucking scared. What if he thinks less of you now? What if he reports you to Hotch? What if he’s disgusted by you and this ruins everything? Your mind was going crazy, and he still hadn’t said anything even though you know he’s had plenty of time to take in the sight of your cut up wrists. 

“Oh y/n,” he sighs, and the sound of his voice gets you to look at him again. He didn’t hold judgement or pity in his features, simply just concern and something else that you couldn’t pinpoint.

“I know it’s a stupid habit and that i shouldn’t do it. But it helps and no one’s found out so far,” you shrug, a few of you tears falling before you grab your wrist out of his grip to wipe them away. You felt more guilt than sadness building up inside of you, along with a large amount of insecurity. 

“Well i just did, so what are we going to do about that?” He asks. you shrug again, looking away from his face and down to your exposed arms, quickly pulling your sleeves back down.

“How about you tell me why you do it? Or things that make you feel like that’s your last resort.”

You look back up to him, so badly wanting to tell him everything that goes through your mind, but if him finding out about your self harm isn't enough to drastically change your friendship, telling him all about your insecurities sure as hell would.

“I don’t know, Spence. I don’t want to put all of this on you and have it ruin our friendship,” you whispered out, using your sleeve to wipe another escaping tear. 

“I’m telling you right now that nothing you say could change the love i have for you, i can promise you that,” his words struck you. You both have said you love each other, it comes with being best-friends and living a dangerous life where you never know where the next moment could bring you, but this confession of love felt different and made your already faster heart beat raise a bit more.

“I...” you pause, not knowing how to form your thoughts into sentences, “I just get frustrated about- i get upset about everything about myself,” you start off. You looked at him semi expecting him to have something to say but instead he just nods, like to indicate for you to keep speaking. You let out an exasperated sigh, almost in disbelief that you were even in this situation and having this conversation.

“I’m not good enough for you,” you spit out, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth as you just stared at him. His brows furrowed and you knew he was thinking deeply about your confession.

“I’m so in love with you, Spence. I love how smart you are and how you can answer any of my questions. I love the tangents you go on, and how you’re still able to be charming and funny. But you’re also crazy attractive and i feel beyond selfish to even think i deserve to be with someone like you. I’m so average. I’m not skinny, i’m not that pretty, i have fucking cuts lining my entire arm. The only good thing i’ve accomplished in life is graduating college and landing a spot in the team, but even then i feel like i don’t deserve my spot when there are so many others who are smarter and quicker to do my job better than me,” you spoke. Your words came out without you making the connection between your brain and mouth, and by the end of it you were embarrassed. You let yourself say too much, and you were worried this would be where Spencer would want to leave.

“I never mean it lightly when i say I love you, you know that right? Both within the team and outside of it, i’ve only said I love you to five or so people, and never have i meant them like i do for you,” he started off, grabbing your hands back from you so you were forced to face him and look him in the eyes, “You’re fucking beautiful, scars and all, i don’t care about them. Well, i do because i hate how they got there and i want to help that stop, but i don’t care that you have them. I don’t look at you and see the imperfections that only you seem to notice. I see my best friend that’s helped me through so much. I see a sweet, intelligent, beautiful person who treats me well and brings me so much comfort. I think you’re a badass agent, and i know the team would agree with me on that, and hopefully i can help you see that, but it’s fine if you don’t see any of this right now because now i get to stay by your side and help expose the truth about you to yourself.” he spoke. you nodded throughout everything he was saying, taking every word in and finding so much comfort in everything.

“okay,” you mumbled out. 

“Okay, you’ll let me?” He questioned, “You’ll let me stay by your side?” 

“Of course, Spence. I love you, and i’m so grateful for you,” at that point you didn’t know what else to say. You were surprised to hear him say so much good about you, but you knew Spencer didn’t lie. He found telling the truth was always the best and easiest option, it was something he took pride in. 

The rest of the night was spent with him actually physically not leaving your side. After a bit more talking, he unpaused the movie and you joked throughout the rest of it with your head leaning on his chest while he combed through your hair with his fingers. You felt the ball of guilt leave your system and instead felt your body flood with relief. He knew your secrets and he was still here. You should’ve never doubted him, and you had wished you confided in him earlier, but now that you have you feel like you have a second chance. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a constant someone in your life, and now having the man that you love know your deepest secrets, things are bound to look up.

[your-eternal-muse]

I’m Getting Colder

Heather Series Part 6 (Were halfway through it!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Bonus! Readers Card Confession

Summery: Reader leaves the BAU for some personal time, and turns to her vices to deal with the voices in her head

Warnings: Description of someone falling into a deep depressive episode, self-deprecation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, description of emotional breakdown, reader is not in a good mental state so please be prepared for that before reading

Words: 1.8k (she smol)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Charmical, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

A/N: So, this is not a light chapter. It’s not that long in my opinion, but it is very depressing. I do not recommend reading this if you are not in a well state of mind. Reader is very depressed, and she is falling deeper into that hole as we speak. I promise it does get better, but this chapter is just sad. I took from some personal thoughts and feelings I had when I was at a low point in my own life, which made it kind of difficult to make it any longer than I did, though I’m going to try and make the following chapters longer. I do recommend reading the bonus episode I posted, as it gives a lil insight to something said in this chapter. If you did not see, I sadly had to close both my permanent and my heather tag list, so if you are not already on there, and you want to be notified when I post a part, I suggest turning on my post notifications. Okay, that’s all. Love You!

~~~~~~~

“You really think he would love someone like You?”

“I will never love you.”

“Look at you. You’re disgusting.”

“I did love you. And then I met Heather and realized how much better she was.”

“Worthless.”

“Stupid Girl.”

“Useless.”

“UGLY!”

My eyes snap open.

My room is dark, and the sun is just barely rising over the horizon, the dim blue light leaking through my curtains.

The alarm on my phone goes off.

5:30 A.M. Meeting with Hotch at 8.

I slide my thumb across the dismiss button, and rub my face. All I want to do is go back to sleep, crawl deep under my covers and stay there until the end of time.

But I can’t.

My therapist's voice echoes through my mind.

“You’ve been through some emotional turmoil, y/n. It’s okay to take a break to get yourself better. But you need to talk to your unit chief in order for that to happen.”

So, that’s what I’m doing. I have a meeting with Hotch to discuss medical leave, where I’ll turn over my badge and gun and leave.

I sit up in bed, running a hand through my hair, trying to convince myself to get up.

Spencer comes home from his honeymoon today.

And if I haven’t been in the right head space when he hasn’t been here, then I’m definitely not okay to be shooting a gun when he is.

He called.

I didn’t answer.

He left a message.

I didn’t listen.

I don’t need to listen to him telling me that there's nothing we can do.

That it’s over.

That I have to move on.

No thanks.

I’m good.

I get up, and walk though my dark apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as I go.

I strip in the pitch black bathroom, only lighting a candle so I don’t trip and break my neck.

The water is cold, and I let it run over my spine.

I leave once my teeth are chattering.

I get out and hastily dry off, before running a brush through my hair and cleaning my teeth.

I avoid my own eyes in the medicine cabinet mirror, but they slip back, and I don’t recognize the girl staring back at me.

I blink, pressing my palm to my eye, using my other hand to open the cabinet, turning the mirror away from me, so I don’t have to look anymore.

By the time I’m dressed and ready to leave, it’s 7:15.

I grab my purse, and my keys and head out of my apartment.

Once outside, I light up a cigarette, walking the short block to where I’m parked, climbing in and cranking the heat.

I used to stop and get a bagel and coffee from the bakery around the corner, but my appetite has left me.

My smoke will suffice for breakfast.

It’s a quiet ride to Quantico.

Mornings of listening to the radio, turning up my favorite songs have all but disappeared.

I pull my chin into my chest to keep the cold from biting my nose, as I walk up to the building.

The eyes of the security guards that I used to greet each morning follow me, as I keep my gaze glued to the floor.

The warmth of the elevator is no longer welcoming.

I’m the only one in the bullpen, as I walk past desks covered in files and papers.

I knock on Hotch’s door at 7:56.

“Come in.”

We’re the first ones here, and I know any moment, the others will trickle in, and their eyes will scan and find me standing before him, through his open blinds, where they will proceed to profile and figure out why I am acting the way I am.

I enter the office, and close the door behind me.

“You didn’t give a reason for this meeting, just stating that it was urgent that we met.” He sets his pen down, and gives me his full attention. “May I ask why?”

I rub my forehead, a headache already forming. “I didn’t know what to put for a reason. Every time I thought about what to write down, it seemed stupid.”

“Y/N, if something is bothering you, it’s never stupid.”

I nod, sniffling, taking my purse off my shoulder and pulling out the note from my therapist, handing it to him.

“I need at least two weeks of mental medical leave.”

He’s quiet as he reads through the letter, looking up at me every now and then.

I look out the window, and see all their heads turn to avoid eye contact, as if they weren’t just sitting and watching the whole exchange.

I bet they’re talking about it right now.

When he’s finished, he simply folds it and places it on his desk, waiting for me to speak.

I look down at my shoes.

I know he knows.

I'm pretty sure everyone knows now.

“I can’t be around him, Hotch.” My voice is no louder than a whisper, but I know he can hear me. 

Jesus, I’m so sick of crying.

“Everything changed that night. I can’t even look at him without wanting to cry or…” I pinch the bridge of my nose again, harder, trying to distract myself from the pain.

“I can’t. At least not yet. Not now. And I’m not in the right state of mind to turn it off during the work day so we can work like a team.” I turn to look out the other window, so I don’t have to deal with the eyes.

“I just need some time to work through it. And I don’t want to put the team at risk during that time.” I shove my hands in my pocket, and bite my lip.

He nods. 

“I understand. I hope you know your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready.”

I nod, breathing in to keep the tears at bay. “I know.”

“Good. I need your badge and gun please.”

That’s when the tears start falling.

I love this Job.

I love these people.

And here I am, abandoning them all because I can’t get over myself.

Yeah because you’re weak. Letting a boy take over your life. How Pathetic.

I untie my jacket, removing my badge from the inner pocket, placing it before him on the desk. I then remove my gun from the holster from my hip, making sure the safety is on, before setting that by my badge.

He stands, as I make my way for the door, moving out of the eyesight of the others.

“Y/N,”

I stop and turn, only to be met with his arms wrapping around me. 

I fall into the embrace, so uncommon for Hotch, but oh so needed at this moment. 

Hotch is a father through and through, and right now, a father’s embrace is what I need.

“I’m always here if you need to talk. No matter what time. I’m here for you.”

I squeeze my arms around him, taking in his scent before backing away. “I know. Thank you, Hotch.”

He nods, smiling softly, before stepping back as I open the door, and walk out into the bullpen.

The team stands, unashamedly staring at me as I walk down past them.

Now including Spencer.

I hastily wipe my cheeks, and shove my hands back into my pockets, beginning to walk past them.

“Baby girl,”

“Don’t, Derek.” I spit. If he hadn’t been a dick….If i had just watched where I was going.

Spencer is closest to the door, and I turn my head away from him, not wanting to engage in anything with him.

He reaches out and grabs me by the crook of my elbow.

“Reid.” Hotch says, but Spencer’s eyes are burning into the side of my face. 

“You asked me to come and catch you.” His voice is soft, and once again, I wish someone would scream at me.

I swallow hard, and pull away from him, stepping back, retreating as far into myself as possible.

“I’m not yours to catch anymore.”

I place a hand over my mouth and practically run out of the glass doors.

I don’t stop running until I get to my car, where I collapse into the cold, and sob against the steering wheel.

“Come and catch me?”

“You asked me to come and catch you.”

He knows he’s killing me.

He has to,

He can’t say shit like that and not know.

My phone lights up with his name, and I slide my thumb across decline, before starting my car and pulling out of the parking lot.

The minutes blur by as I make my way home, just wanting to collapse into bed, and sleep away my problems.

My apartment is lighter now, but it’s still relatively dark. Light seeps through my curtains, but it doesn’t reach far.

I kick off my boots, and take off my jacket, tossing it across the counter.

A full length mirror hangs from my corridor wall, watching me. Taunting me.

“He’s just trying to talk to you.”

I pinch my eyes close. This isn’t happening. Not again.

“But you’re too selfish to accept him as anything other than a friend.”

The voice talking is high-pitched, and stings like a bell.

Heather.

“Seriously? You think he would ever want someone like you? When he could have someone like me? You’re pathetic.”

I turn to the mirror, where she stands staring back at me in the reflection.

“Shut up.”

“You are so stupid. No one wants you. No one will ever want you. The team will be so much better off without you.”

“Shut up!” My teeth grit, and I know I’m talking to a figment of my imagination, but I don’t care.

I can’t care.

“You’re so useless. You’re so stupid. You’re so pathetic. Do you know you’re the last thing on his mind? Especially when he’s deep within me, and I’m making him feel so good.”

“I said shut up!” 

I grab a stray book laying open on my counter, and throw it at the mirror, watching it shatter upon impact, the pieces looking like snow on my floor.

I bawl into my hands, leaning over my counter.

Who have I become?

I pull myself together long enough to grab the bottle of whiskey sitting open by my sink, taking a long drink from it.

With it still clutched in hand, I shuffle over to my couch which is pushed up against my windows.

I lean over the back of it, opening the one above it, the cool air freezing the tears on my face.

I set the bottle down and pick up a stray smoke, lighting up and leaning back, exhaling the smoke up into the air and out the window.

My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, seeing Spencer’s face pop up yet again.

In the photo, he’s smiling, birthday cake on his face. I hit decline.

Another swig, another hit. 

My brain is becoming fuzzy.

A text comes through from Derek.

I swipe the notification away. 

I lie down on my couch, holding a pillow close to my body, my cigarette hanging from my fingers, the bottle down on the floor next to me.

Another text.

I turn my phone off.

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[slippinmickeys]

Five Seconds (8/8)

If you’d like to read this work in its entirety, you may do so here.

October 24, 2018

Scully was half-elated, half terrified when her children escaped from the cabin and their captor. It removed them from harm’s way, but gave the mercenary who held them a sole focus -- herself and the child she carried, and Mulder.

Luis seemed to be even more amped up by their escape, checking his watch and trying his phone twice as often. When she rose and requested a drink of water, the man stood so quickly from the chair he sat in that it fell backwards to the floor.

He stood, twitchy and suspicious, looked at her a moment and then nodded tersely. She turned to go into the kitchen when a powerful force seized her and she stumbled, grabbing onto the back of Mulder’s chair.

“Scully!” he said, alarmed. He rose and moved to her side as the gunman watched them, tense but otherwise expressionless.

The pain wrapped around her middle and went all the way to her back. She’d experienced back labor during her labor with William and remembered the agonizing sensation. This was the real thing.

“Mulder,” she whispered, dragging her eyes up to him. She saw realization dawn on him, saw the mix of tender excitement and abject fear.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side to look at her. They rarely used pet names for each other, but the sound of those words on his lips made her stalwart exterior crumple. Tears fell from her eyes. She looked at him and tried to tell him silently all the things he’d ever meant to her, and all the things he ever would.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” the man said, to Lily. “We are going to unload the ATVs off of the trailer. We are going to drive them to the camp where your family is staying. You will be on one, your brother and I will be on the other. I will have a gun to your brother’s head the entire time. You try anything, I shoot him. He tries anything, I shoot him.”

Lily nodded, and she could hear Will swallow with some difficulty next to her. “My colleague at the camp… Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Lily said, not taking her eyes off the barrel of the gun.

“Good,” he said “Do what I say, and no one has to die.”

Lily could feel the weight of the burner phone in the front pocket of her sweatshirt and sweat broke out on her upper lip. Maybe, she thought, maybe she could still use it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Scully grasped his hand tightly, eyes closed, breathing hard. As the night wore on and windows outside the cabin turned pale, her contractions seemed to be progressing as they ought, but she was in pain -- terrible pain -- and his heart clenched for her.

He hadn’t done this since Lily was born nearly two decades before -- holding the hand of his wife while she battled to bring his child into the world.  He still felt an overriding guilt for not being there for her during her complicated and troubled delivery of William.

He remembered walking down the hallway toward her room the day he was born, his breath shaky and halting, not knowing what he’d find. There had been a strange sense of deja vu as he approached her door that night, and he had an odd mental picture — an actual phantasmagoria — flash through his mind unbidden of walking in and seeing Scully, her hair shorter than she had ever cut it, her body on the bed thin and reedy -- most definitely not pregnant. He could still see it in his mind’s eye, Scully lying on her side in the hospital bed, wires and IVs coming out of her, a nasal cannula over her ears. She wore a teal hospital gown and the look on her face was one of horrified surprise. The flash had so disturbed him that he ran the last few feet to her labor and delivery room and crashed through the door, which knocked into the rubber stopper on the wall. There Scully lay, in a pink gown, her hair long and her face pale, but smiling, their son lying peacefully on her chest.

He shook himself of the memory and concentrated on his wife.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The man had Will unhooking the ATVs as he pushed them back and off the ramp of the trailer, his gun strapped to a holster on his leg. Lily had her hand in her pocket thumbing the phone, trying to remember which button was “on” from memory. She depressed the button and the ancient phone beeped once, the sound covered by the merc turning on and revving the first four-wheeler, luck on her side, for once.

He moved to the side of the van and pulled out a mid-sized black canvas attache case that had a biohazard warning patch on the side. He secured it to the back of one of the vehicles and then winked at her. Lily’s insides went cold, thinking of her mother.

He pointed at the ATV and looked to Will. “Hop on, William,” he commanded. They had not told him their names. Her brother mounted the four-wheeler, licking his lips nervously. The merc turned to her.

“You know how to drive one of these?” he asked her. She shook her head. He pointed, impatient. “Throttle. Brake. Get on.”

She did.

“You know where to go,” the man said, then revved his engine, the noise a loud mechanical crank in the sleepy peace of the forest. A flock of birds were startled into flight from the trees above, taking wing into the autumn sky, a flutter of panicked commotion.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Mulder, I need you to promise me something,” Scully said weakly. She was tiring and had refused food. She was laying on the narrow cot by the stove and he was sitting next to her.

“Anything,” he said, brushing back the hair from her forehead.

“Don’t be a hero,” she half-whispered. “I need you. The kids need you. Don’t… don’t try anything.”

Luis, listening in from a few yards away, spoke for the first time in an hour.

“‘S good advice,” he sneered.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily slid the phone out of her pocket and took a surreptitious look down. It was on. She glanced back up to watch where she was going -- the trees here were much closer together -- saplings growing like weeds in a field. She had to swerve quickly to miss one and she heard the mercenary shout from behind her. Her quick turn had lifted the right side of the ATV’s wheels almost off the ground -- if she’d been leaning the wrong way or even at all, the whole thing would have gone over.

Straightening and watching her path on a fresh surge of adrenaline, she glanced once again at the phone -- there was a single bar of service showing. She was so shocked she almost dropped it. Licking her lips, she kept her eyes ahead and dialed 911, glancing down once or twice to make sure she’d entered it correctly. She pressed “send.” She was driving one-handed and was hoping the merc didn’t notice. Even with the roar of the engines, she could hear the phone dialing.

They were almost to the cabin. She could smell woodsmoke. If they cleared one more rise, they’d be there.  

The burr of the phone ringing was the only thing she could hear.

Up the rise, she knew the ATV was still right behind her, knew that there was still a gun trained at her brother's head.

"9-1-1, what... your emergency?" she could hear the dispatcher through static.

Then she was over the hill. The cabin sat before them, a squat building standing stalwart in a field of trees, smoke leaking from the chimney and sinking to the ground like an escher painting.

She felt the machine under her go over an unexpected bump on the right side and the wheels rise up slightly. She took a chance on creating enough of a distraction for emergency services to trace her call. She leaned hard left and gravity did the rest, tipping the ATV in what felt like a slow motion fall onto its side. Lily, wearing neither helmet nor seatbelt fell hard onto her shoulder, her head snapping into the earth.

She rolled, and the machine missed her leg, but the phone went flying out of her hand, arcing through the air and into the leaf cover. The other ATV revved to catch up with her and then stopped close to the cabin on a spray of dirt and leaf pieces. Then the engine cut, and she could hear the voice on the other end of the phone several yards away cutting in and out in static.

Stars burst behind her eyes like fireworks popping in the night. When her vision cleared, the man was standing over her, his boots so close to her face that she could smell the leather. Her brother was close, but was clearly wary of the mercenary, and she saw him take several steps backward toward the cabin, his eyes on his sister and the dangerous tableau before him.

The man before her lifted a foot and she braced herself for a kick or a blow, but instead he took several steps off into the duff and then once again lifted his heavy booted foot up and this time slammed it down hard onto the staccato-voiced cell phone in the leaves, the static turning into silence with an almighty metallic crunch.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Scully’s contractions were extremely close together. She was lying on the cot, her face a sheen of perspiration. Mulder almost didn’t hear the sound of the engines over her groan.

Luis, who had been watching Scully intensely, his brows knitted together, stood quickly when he heard the motors. There was a chaotic sound outside and then the engines cut, close to the cabin.

“About fucking time,” Luis hissed and then was out the door, leaving it open. Mulder looked to Scully and then, very slowly and deliberately leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“No matter what happens,” he whispered, “I always have and always will love you.”

Scully nodded and then another contraction pressed on her and she winced.

“Mulder, I’m feeling really pushy,” she said.

“Shit,” Mulder swore, standing without much hope of doing anything.

Scully opened her mouth and let out an unholy yowl.

And then, from outside the cabin, they heard the unmistakable voice of their fifteen year old son: “Mom?!”

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Shut up,” said the merc to William from where he stood by the cabin’s door.

Lily rolled up to her knees and shook her head, standing woozily, just as the man Luis came barreling out the door.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Luis hissed at the other man.

“Get your panties out of your ass, Cardinal,” he said. “I’m here.”

“She’s in labor, you greasy piece of shit. We’re on the fucking clock.”

Another dump of adrenaline hit Lily’s bloodstream and she took several steps toward her brother, who was still looking at the cabin in alarm.

He nodded at Luis and unstrapped the black attache kit from the back of his ATV, walking to the open doorway, where he paused. He pointed to where Lily stood, not far from her brother.

“Watch these two,” he said, “and maybe don’t lose them this time?”

XxXxXxXxXxX

“...and maybe don’t lose them this time,” Mulder heard from the doorway. The voice was familiar, and when he looked to the man’s face, he was taken over by such an unholy rage that his vision quite literally tunneled, going black from the sides.

He’d launched himself before anyone knew quite what was happening, even himself. His body hit the other man’s full force and they flew outside, landing in the duff and scattering dirt from the force of their impact.

“Krycek,” he hissed, “you son of a bitch-” and then he reared back his fist and delivered a haymaker to the man’s chin -- all the pent of fury of finding Scully at the top of Skyland Mountain all those years ago crashing back -- Krycek’s head whipped back, spraying blood onto the O horizon.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She’d say this for her brother: his time on the ice had served him well.

Cardinal was as taken by surprise as everyone else by their father’s furious launch at the other merc, and Will, who had been standing several feet away, took the opportunity to grab his improvised hockey stick, which had been propped up by the door on the outside of the cabin and swung it with everything he had at the man. It connected with Cardinal directly across the temple; the dull, sickening thud the best thing Lily had ever heard. Cardinal hit the wall of the cabin and crumpled, sliding to the ground like bubbles down wet skin.

Her father’s head whipped around to see what had happened behind him, and Krycek seized the opportunity to kick Mulder hard, sending him flying backwards. Both men scrambled up to standing when Scully appeared in the doorway of the cabin, taking two shaky steps outside. Everyone turned to her.

“Mulder,” she rasped, looking at her husband, distraught, “I think it’s time.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder looked to his wife.

Scully then let out a scream and stumbled forward, grabbing onto a nearby tree for support. Lily dashed to her side without thinking, giving Krycek the opportunity to swing the gun he still held in his hand up to train it on both of them. Mulder’s heart rose to his throat.

From nowhere, Krycek produced another pistol, which he aimed at Will, who had been attempting to get around the side of the cabin after felling Cardinal. Mulder froze.

"This ends one of two ways!" Krycek shouted, stopping everyone in their tracks. There was a smear of blood running down his chin. "All of you dead, or everyone alive. I really don't care one way or the other."

Krycek flicked the gun once at Will, who dropped the stick and made his way over to his sister, who was still several feet away from Scully, who had taken a few staggered steps before slumping to her knees, knocked back by another powerful contraction, this one right on the heels of the last. She was panting, and swung her eyes up to Mulder drunkenly. Krycek had a gun on her and one on their children.

"All right," Mulder said, anguish gripping him, "all right."

He was out of options. He looked to the functioning four-wheeler that Krycek had come in on. Krycek could have Scully on it and to the county road in less than ten minutes. The other four wheeler was still on its side, smoking, the smell of gas and oil ripe in the air. He'd never be able to get to them.

Mulder looked at Scully. He looked at his children. Hopelessness rose in his gut like vomit, consuming and poisonous. He thought vaguely of bum-rushing Krycek once again, one last sacrifice to save those he loved.

The moment slowed to a honied drip. Five seconds to make a choice, each one ticking by more slowly than the one before it. One. He thought of Lily as a baby, of William; the newborn smell of their sweet red hair. Two. He thought of Olivia Kurtzweil, sitting across from him in his office. Lying dead on her own floor. Three. He thought of Samantha, her thick braids flying out behind her, laughing as she ran down the beach in Quonochontaug. Four. He thought of his first day of firearms training at Quantico. His instructor laying a pistol on the countertop and saying: “It takes only seven pounds of pressure to pull a trigger.” Five. He thought of Scully. Of their first meeting in the basement office, her bright seafoam eyes and her chipper little handshake. He thought of her terrified face atop Skyland Mountain, how her hands felt around his neck as he carried her all the way down. He thought of how she gasped when he touched her, of the dusky way her skin looked in the moonlight.

He moved to take a step toward her, but was shocked into stillness when a gun shot rang out out of nowhere and Krycek slumped to the ground. Mulder turned to where the shot had come from and there, standing in the middle of the Northwoods forest in a pristine white blazer and jeans stood Lauren, the archaic rifle that had adorned the deer mount on the cabin wall pressed expertly to her shoulder. Smoke wafted out of the barrel, and she slowly lowered the weapon.

“You stopped answering your phone, Fox,” she said. “We had a deal.”

XxX

Will and Lily were both facing away from where Krycek had fallen, looking at Lauren in surprise, and Mulder took three large strides to get to them before they could turn and see what was left of the man. He grabbed them by the shoulders, one hand on each of them and leaned down.

“It’s okay,” he said, in a quiet voice, “we’re all okay.”

Will turned into him and buried his face into his father’s chest. Lily put her hand over his and turned toward Scully, who was leaning against a tree, one arm wrapped tightly around her stomach. Luis Cardinal was still out cold by the cabin’s wall, his arm thrown out an odd angle. Mulder hoped it was broken.

“Can you guys help your mom into the cabin?” he said and both kids went immediately to her.

He heard the crunching of leaves and found Lauren at his shoulder.

“I called the county Sheriff before I came onto the property,” she said in a low voice, “I don’t know how long it will take them to get here.”

Mulder turned to her in full.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice shaky, “You saved my family.”

“You’re all the family I have left,” she said, “and you would have done the same for me.”

He pulled her tightly to him. She gave him a brief squeeze, the rifle she was holding pressing into his hip. She pulled back.

“Please tell me Dana’s not in labor,” she said.

“Dana’s in labor.”

Lauren took a deep breath and glanced down at the man whose life she had taken not moments before.

“Don’t look,” Mulder said gently.

Lauren nodded stoically and shouldered the rifle.

“There’s another merc by the cabin,” Mulder said, “alive. Can you help me secure him? See if there’s some rope or something inside?”

Lauren nodded and headed into the cabin, and Mulder turned to Krycek and pushed him over onto his back with his foot. The man was looking straight up with sightless eyes. Then Mulder noticed several pairs of zip ties that Krycek had had secured to his utility belt. He tried not to think of what he’d planned to use them for, and pulled one from the dead man’s waist.

“We need to make this quick,” Lauren said as she came out the door, her statement punctuated by a low, feminine moan from inside the cabin. Mulder’s gut roiled.

“Let’s go,” he said, and dragged Cardinal roughly by the shoulders to a medium pine not far from the cabin door. Mulder wrenched the man’s hands behind his back around the tree and Lauren cinched the zip tie on tightly. He gave a light moan but was otherwise still.

When they trotted back into the cabin, they found both kids at their mother’s side, wearing panicked, wary faces.  

Scully had settled onto the cot that had been set up near the woodstove. Her eyes were closed and her hands gripped the steel frame. Mulder asked the kids to collect clean linens and blankets from the cedar cabinet and then went back outside to pull Krycek’s body over behind a large tree, knowing he was disturbing evidence, but not caring. He didn’t want it anywhere the kids could see.

When he came back inside, Scully was propped up on pillows, Lauren kneeling next to her. They both turned to him. Scully reached out her hand and he walked over and grabbed it.

“Any sign of the Sheriff?” Lauren asked in a low voice.

Mulder shook his head.

Scully winced and squeezed his hand, gritting her teeth.

“Her contractions are one on top of each other, Fox,” Lauren said.

Lily had drifted over and spoke from Mulder’s elbow.

“Can you give me and Will something to do?” she said, “he’s kind of freaked, and so am I.”

“Hey Will,” Mulder said, “can you take the bucket to the pump and bring us water?”

“Yeah!” Will jumped up and grabbed the bucket by the kitchen wall and scooted outside quickly.

“Lily,” Mulder said, and she looked up at him. “Do you think you can help your mom?”

“Yeah, I can,” Lily said, and went to Scully’s other side.

Scully looked up to Mulder.

“I’m feeling really pushy,” she said once again and gave him a this is serious look.

“You pitch, I’ll catch,” Mulder said easily, trying to project a confidence he didn’t feel, and moved to the end of the bed. He helped Scully pull down her leggings and get situated back on the bed.

Scully was breathing hard and took another deep breath, trying to slow herself down.

“Lil,” she said, pausing to close her eyes and breathe through her nose, “you hold one knee, Lauren will hold the other.”

Lily nodded bravely and grabbed her mother’s leg firmly. Lauren did the same on Scully’s other side.

Mulder could see a bright thatch of hair already crowning between Scully’s legs and grabbed a clean towel, reaching forward.

“Oh my god,” Lauren said, just as Scully gave another almighty yell. The baby’s head was all the way out. One more push and Mulder caught his second son as he careened into the world, registering his complaints loudly for anyone who would hear them.

Will came banging through the door just as Mulder was placing the child on Scully’s chest, a full bucket of water sloshing over where it hung from his hand.

“The Sheriff is here!” he said, as he took in the sight before him.

“Come and meet your brother,” Scully said, smiling tiredly, sweat beaded on her brow.

EPILOGUE

Lily stood in front of the building nervously twirling a lock of hair around her fingers, over and over; a tic she’d had since childhood. Her father was parked not quite a block up the avenue waiting for her -- not totally out of sight, but enough to afford her some privacy. She glanced at his car's taillights once and then looked back at the old building with its colossal white columns and bright red brick.

She knew Travis's schedule well enough that she shouldn’t have been surprised when he emerged from the double doors of the Old Engineering Hall, but her heart skipped a beat anyway.

He was several steps out when he noticed her standing at the base of the old cement staircase, and he pulled up short, cinching his backpack once contemplatively before continuing his descent. He stopped in front of her, but made no move to touch her or talk. He merely looked at her, waiting for her to say something.

She gave him a tentative smile that he didn't return.

"Hi," she finally said.

"Hello," he said. He didn't sound angry or upset, merely expectant, maybe a little resigned.

She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She couldn't think of a thing to say -- where to possibly start telling him her story. He must have sensed how overwhelmed she was, as he took a breath and said, not unkindly:

"You were supposed to meet me for lunch. You never showed up."

She pressed her lips together and nodded her head, remembering the feeling of being pursued through the student union, of holding her father's hand and running from Darlene's house, thinking she may have gotten her whole family killed. Of running through the trees. Of gunshots and the hot ozone smell of cordite.

"I called you," he went on, "I called you like thirty times."

"I didn't have my phone," she finally said, "I couldn't-"

"-you didn't have to ghost me, Lillian," he interrupted, "I was afraid something happened to you... I was about to call the cops when I realized that I didn't actually know where you lived." His tone was serious, a touch disappointed, and it made Lily's insides feel like iced lead.  

"My... my name's not Lillian," she whispered, and the tears finally fell from her eyes.

He tilted his head like a confused pup and looked at her, puzzled and upset.

So she told him. Everything. She took a breath and let loose with everything she and her family had been through for the last nine months. In a teary voice with hitching sobs, she told him about her family's genetic legacy, about going on the run, about how she had managed to feel safe and happy when she was with him, able to forget -- at least for a few hours -- about the dangers pressing on her from all sides. And finally about the last 72 hours and her life at the other end of a pointed gun.

He stood, staring at her in fascination and what looked like disbelief. When the last word of explanation had been said, she could feel her insides wilt a little in relief; everything out in the open, the last of her words falling out of her mouth and sinking to the ground, heavier than air.

“I… I would understand if you didn’t believe me,” she finished.

Just as she steeled herself for his withering incredulity and disbelief, he took one giant step toward her, dropping his backpack as he moved, and wrapped her in his thick, sturdy embrace. She felt herself melt into his caress like liquid, felt his hand come up to hold her head tightly to his chest, his fingers threading through her hair.

“I believe you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair.

She experienced a relief so profound she gave an involuntary sob into the solid mass of him, as he murmured words of encouragement and comfort into her ear. She figured out in that moment what love was. It was this.

She wasn't sure how long they held each other, but he didn't pull back until she did, and even then he reached out and grabbed her face in both hands lightly, his thumbs rubbing her cheekbones in a gossamer wisp.

"Jesus," he finally said, searching her eyes with his intense hazel gaze. She gave him a shaky smile and a half laugh and he dropped one hand to her arm, leaving the other on her face, which she leaned into. "I don't know your real name," he chuffed kindly, "What do I even call you?"

She smiled, sniffed -- probably unattractively, she thought -- and closed her eyes once before looking at him with affection. "I'm kind of partial to 'Frisbee,' to be honest," she said. He leaned down and kissed her with everything he was worth.

[rmtndew]

Begin Again

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff) 

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist 

 Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0​, @gearhead66,  @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents,  @xxxkatxo

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The last Wednesday in October was a gray, misty, windy day. It was cold, the kind you felt more in your bones than anywhere else, with the sky occasionally spitting out sleet. I spent the entire twenty-minute drive to my job at Waverly Catering clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my hands were cramping by the time I arrived from white-knuckling it the whole way there. Usually, I would get to work early enough to enjoy the silence and finish off my coffee before officially starting my workday. That day, however, I spent the very little extra time I had trying to get my hands to stop hurting, then chugged down my coffee that had cooled dramatically to a gross lukewarm temperature. 

Before going in, I checked my phone. I always kept it on silent while I drove. My mom had a tendency to text me, make a dozen spelling mistakes because of auto-correct, then correct them one by one, leaving me with about thirteen separate texts to read. It didn’t use to bother me, I thought it was charming and very distinctly Mom. But when she’d gotten sick at the beginning of the year, every text she sent that I couldn’t read immediately made me panic, worrying that something terrible had happened to her, even when I’d just seen her at home a few minutes before. So for my sanity - and hers - I started putting my phone on silent until I got to work, or wherever else I was going. It was a habit I’d kept even after she’d gone into remission because her cancer may have been gone, but my anxiety over her wasn’t. 

That morning when I checked my phone, I saw that I had two texts, but they weren’t from Mom. 

Marshall:  Good morning, Fi. I hope that I get to see you today. I’ll be chained to  my desk with paperwork for a while. This is the first time I’ve not dreaded it. You’re my silver lining.

That was cheesy. I’m sorry. I’m bad at this.

And just like that, all of my stress melted away. The weather didn’t matter, my disappointing coffee didn’t matter, even the cramping in my hands didn’t matter. All that did matter was that Walter Marshall thought of me as his silver lining. Yes it was early days, yes we’d barely known each other a month, yes we’d only gone on two dates, but he made me happier than I’d been in a long time. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for two years, starting when my dad had died in a car crash, followed by my boyfriend Ezra breaking up with me, then losing my job as an interior designer, and capping off with my mom’s cancer diagnoses. Then Walter came along and it was like I could finally breathe again. 

Me:  Please don’t apologize. You have no idea how much I needed to read that this morning. Feel free to be as  cheesy as you want. And I hope I get to see you today, too, even if it  means you’re chained to your desk.

Marshall:  If I don’t see you for some reason,  can I call you tonight? I miss your  voice and you make me want to get better at this talking thing. 

I could feel myself blushing. Even over the phone he made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I had no idea that anyone could make me feel that way as an adult, but he did every time he texted me. 

Me:  Of course you can. Even if we do see  each other, you can still call, if you want? Practice makes perfect, and all that.

Marshall: I’d like that. Talk to you soon.

I sat back in my seat with a sigh as I looked out at the sleet falling from the gray sky, spattering my windshield, blurring out the image of the trees in the park across from me blowing and bending in the wind. 

It was going to be a good day. 

“You look...dare I say it? Happy?” Darcy said as I walked into her office.

I smiled. “You may dare to say it because yes, I am quite happy.”

“And what brings you to such an extreme emotion so early on such a disgusting day?”

I went to her desk and sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, for one, I know that you’re about to do me a big favor that I will forever be grateful for.”

“Fiona Sparks asking for a favor? I’ll mark the day in my calendar,” she joked. “What kind of favor do you need?”

“I need a copy of the peanut butter cookie recipe.”

“For what purpose?” 

“See, that’s where the happiness part comes into play and you, being one of my dearest friends, would love to see me happy.” 

“I would but I’m unsure how a cookie recipe is going to do that.”

“It’s not for me,” I said, smiling wide. “I met this guy -” 

“What? Who?” she asked enthusiastically, her eyes wide with excitement.

“His name is Walter Marshall. He’s our detective who never changes his lunch order.”

“You’re dating one of the homicide detectives? You can feel free to thank me later for giving you that order, by the way. But right now I want details: How long have you been dating and why am I just now finding out about it?”

“We’re not technically dating. I met him a few weeks ago for the first time and we went on two dates last week.” 

“You haven’t dated anyone in over two years, and then you go on two dates in one week?”

“Well, the first was just a coffee date. Saturday we tried having a proper one.” 

“Tried?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. 

“He wanted to take me to dinner, so we went to an Italian place, but before we could order, his daughter called. She was supposed to be at a Halloween party, but some of her friends had lied to her, I guess, and it ended up being a basement party with slightly older boys and she felt uncomfortable, so we went and picked her up. Then we all went for pizza together.”

“He has a daughter, which is some heavy baggage to begin with, but you met her on your second date? That’s a lot, Fiona.” 

“I know it seems like it, but it’s really not. She’s a good kid. And he’s an amazing father, which, oddly, just makes him more attractive,” I said. “But that’s not the point. The point is that his daughter was, understandably, a little iffy about me being with him when he picked her up until she found out that I’m the one who brings the cookies. She apparently loves them and I told her that I might be able to get her a copy of the recipe and that seemed to pave the way for her not hating me instantly. And she’s thirteen, so that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I have so many questions right now but I can’t sort them all out so I’m going to be annoying you with them all day, just be prepared for that. All I want to know right now is if you want the recipe laminated or not?” 

I let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. And thank you so much, Darcy. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do know. You never ask for anything, even simple things, so the fact that you’re willing to ask me for a favor means this is a pretty big deal,” she said. “He must be a good guy.”

I nodded. “He really is.” 

I arrived at the police station that morning a little before eleven. I’d left the shop early, worried the weather might get bad again and didn’t want to be late for my delivery. Thankfully the sleeting had stopped, allowing me to get there a few minutes early. A few minutes that I used up trying to pull my dolly through the parking lot. The lot had been salted, which was good in that at least it wasn’t icy, but the wheels on my dolly didn’t seem to like the brine mixture. They kept locking up on me. Between that and having to fight against the roaring wind, it took me an embarrassingly long time to reach the station door. Before I could push it open, someone opened it from the inside for me. I looked up, expecting to see Officer Bates. He was the security officer that was posted downstairs and always went through the containers full of lunches that I brought to the homicide unit every week. Instead, I saw Marshall.

“Hello,” he said with a smile. 

I immediately felt like giggling. The last time I’d seen him, we’d kissed. And seeing him right then, seeing his beautiful, handsome face, I wanted so badly to kiss him again. Instead, I felt myself grow shy as I blushed so fiercely that my cheeks stung with the new heat that rushed to them. 

“Hi,” I said. He pulled the door open all the way, then stepped back, allowing me to walk in. My stomach fluttered as I looked back at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He closed the door behind me. “May I help you with your cart?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Would you let me help you take it back to your car when you leave, at least?”

I fought every instinct inside of me that insisted I say no. Darcy was right: I hated asking for even simple things. I never wanted to burden anyone. But since I’d met Marshall, I’d learned that his way of showing interest or affection was to do things for me. But he always asked first, wanting my permission. It challenged me, but in a good way. I didn’t need to always go it alone if I didn’t have to. 

“Um, yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I said. “The wheels didn’t seem to agree with the salted parking lot. You could probably pull it a lot easier than me.” 

Marshall stayed with me as Officer Bates went through the containers I’d brought in. He wasn’t close enough to make anyone passing by question it, but it was close enough that my hand hanging at my side could feel the heat coming from his hand and forearm, that was visible from the blue henley that was pushed up to his elbows in a way that I found incredibly attractive. My fingers itched to seek out his, but I fought it. Keeping them obediently beside me. Once Officer Bates was done and gave me the all clear to take the food up, Walter walked me to the elevator and pressed the button to call it down. Then he held the door back, letting me in first before following me. After the door slid closed, he fell back half a step, putting him right beside me. His hand bumped mine, his fingers snaking through, gently holding mine. I smiled, knowing I wasn’t the only one itching for contact. 

I turned without a thought and placed a kiss on his shoulder. Then I paused, a moment of panic rising in me that maybe we weren’t at that level yet. But before I could move or feel too worried, he placed a kiss on the top of my head.

“I keep thinking about Saturday,” he whispered. 

“Me, too,” I said. I looked up at him. “It was...pretty amazing.”

He smiled. I could see his sharp canine teeth. They were oddly charming. “Yes, it was.” He laced his fingers with mine more securely, properly holding it. “I know I mentioned calling you tonight, but I hoped that we might have dinner again instead. If you’re not busy?”

“I’m exceptionally not busy tonight.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning his head back to face the elevator door. “I won’t be able to finish all my paperwork today, there’s too much and it keeps multiplying like rabbits, so since I have to do it tomorrow anyway, I’m going to knock off here around five. Could I pick you up after that? Around five-thirty, perhaps?” 

I nodded, smiling. “That sounds great.”

The elevator dinged as we reached the homicide unit floor. He gave my hand a couple of gentle squeezes before letting it go as the door slid open. He stepped out, then held the door for me like he had before, letting me pull my cart out. He walked with me almost all the way to the break room before a shorter man with glasses stopped him. 

“Lieutenant Marshall, can I speak with you in your office for a moment?” he asked. 

“Of course.” Walter touched my shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said to me quietly before leaving for his office. 

I continued on and was met by most of the detectives waiting for me. Like usual, they didn’t talk to me much, just thanking me for the food before taking their box and going. I took my time, hoping that by the time that I was done, the man speaking with Walter would be gone before I brought him his lunch. When I was done, I packed up my cart before taking Marshall’s boxed lunch and walked down the hall, finding the door to his office open. I could hear him talking still and wasn’t sure what to do. I’d made a deal with him a few weeks back to always bring his lunch to his office whenever I delivered - the first time was because a uniformed officer looked like he was going to swipe it, after that, it was to thank him for rescuing me from a pushy creep while I was with my ‘friends’. We’d never discussed if I should interrupt while he was working. I chewed my lip, debating what to do for several seconds before deciding to just take a chance and knock on the door frame. The worst case scenario was that I looked like a very dedicated delivery woman making sure that all of my orders reached their proper owners. 

“Yep. Come in,” Walter called out in response to my knocking.

I entered his office only far enough to be seen and not a step further. I didn’t know if Marshall wanted people to know about us, so I was prepared to make a quick exit if I needed to. “I have a delivery for Detective Marshall,” I said. 

He looked at me and smiled, then waved me in further. “Harper, this is Fiona Sparks. Fiona, this is Commissioner Harper.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I said. 

“You, too.” He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “You don’t happen to be related to Rodger Sparks, by any chance?” 

I felt speechless for a moment. I hadn’t heard anyone other than Mom say Dad’s name in months. Finally, I forced myself to nod. “Yes. He was my dad. How - how did you know?” 

“We went to college together. You’re the spitting image of him,” he said. “I was sorry to hear about him passing away. I lost my wife around two years ago as well. A brain aneurysm.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t get any easier.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

He looked at me for a moment longer, then back to Marshall, who was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked back at me briefly before taking the folder he was holding and tapped it against Marshall’s shoulder. “You know what? This can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll bring it by in the morning.” He left Walter and stopped beside me before leaving the office. “I’m very sorry about your father. Rodger was a horrible sport when he lost at cards, but other than that, he was a great guy. And probably the smartest man I ever met.”

I smiled slightly. “He was a horrible sport at cards.” 

He smiled back. “The worst.” He gave me a wink. “It was a pleasure seeing you.” 

“You, too.”

When he left, he closed the door behind him. I looked at Marshall as he walked towards me. “Did I interrupt something important?” I asked. 

“No. He was just asking about a cold case.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in since he was here. Next time, if you’re talking to someone, would you rather I left your lunch in the break room?”

He stopped in front of me. He was so close. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice. I swallowed thickly, trying to meet his gaze as he looked down at me. He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No. I’d still like you to bring it to me, please. If that’s alright?” 

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

“You won’t,” he said. “But I’ve let my job get in the way of other things for too long, so maybe it’s time someone got in the way of it for a bit.” 

“You have an important job, though. If you were a boat salesman, I might feel a little differently about disrupting your work.” 

His smile grew as he tilted his head at me. “A boat salesman?” 

“I mean a job where it wouldn’t really matter all that much if you were distracted every once in a while. If someone doesn’t sell a boat, it’s not that big of a deal. But if you don’t solve a murder case...that has very real repercussions. I wouldn’t want to be a reason for something slipping by in a case.” 

He put his hand on my cheek, directing my eyes back to his. “That won’t happen,” he said. “I take my job seriously. That’s never been a problem for me. My problem has always been figuring out how to balance it with the rest of my life, which I never could, and I neglected a lot of people because of it. Especially Faye.” He shook his head. “I’m still not good at it. But I had a case back in the winter that...put Faye’s safety in jeopardy, among other things, and it made me realize that I need to put more of an effort in my life outside of this job. Despite how hard that is for me.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “You motivate me to slow down a bit. And that’s a good thing.”

I took my free hand and placed it over his, then turned my face slightly and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I would be happy to slow down with you,” I whispered. 

Marshall had a smile that somehow showed in his eyes more than his mouth, and that’s how he was looking at me right then. “I’d like that.” 

A knock on the door startled me. I took a step back, his hand falling from my cheek. He then ran it over his face, almost like he was trying to scrub the irritation of being interrupted off it. Then he folded his arms across his chest before calling out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and a man stepped up to the doorway. He was wearing plain clothes like Walter, so I assumed he was a detective, too. He all but ignored me as he and Walter spoke. Half of what they said was in a jargon I didn’t understand, so I just stood there, head down, waiting. After a few minutes, the guy left, only halfway closing the door as he did. When Marshall finally turned back to me, I could see that he was frustrated. I knew he wouldn’t admit it, but me being at his work right then was only going to cause more irritation with every interruption we had. 

“As much as I hate it, I should probably get back to the shop. We have a big order going out tomorrow, so there’s quite a lot to do today to prepare for it,” I said. “Plus, I have a date with a very handsome detective tonight that I want to get ready for.”

The frustration on his face seemed to melt away as he looked at me with a smirk. “Is it anyone I know?”

“Possibly. He does work in your unit.” 

“Is that so?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, if I see him around, I might have to have a talk with him.”

“And what would you say?” 

“I’d tell him that he better be good to you because you deserve to be treated well.” 

My stomach fluttered. “You can rest assured that he treats me very well. Better than any man ever has.”

“All those other men were idiots.”

I smiled. “Maybe so.” 

He shook his head. “Definitely so.” He reached out and took his lunch from my hand, then turned and placed it on a filing cabinet behind him. “Will you let me help you to your car now?” 

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

He put on his coat and followed me to the break room. He pulled my dolly for me, moving it like it was as light as a child’s toy. Even when we made it to the parking lot, he didn’t seem to have any issue with the wheels fighting against him. Then he picked it up and placed it in my trunk with ease, despite how I very often fought to get it back in. I thought about telling him that he was welcome to help me anytime he wanted, but I was afraid it wouldn’t come across as a joke and he would feel obligated to actually help. 

“Thank you. You made my morning a lot easier,” I said after I closed the trunk. I looked at him. “I guess I’ll see you around five-thirty?”

He nodded. “I’ll call you when I leave here, but yeah, I should be there by then,” he said. “And I promise it’ll only be the two of us and no cheap pizza.” 

“To be honest, I quite liked the pizza. It didn’t taste cheap. And I really, truly didn’t mind Faye joining us, but it'll be nice to have dinner with just you tonight,” I said. “But that reminds me - I put a copy of our cookie recipe for Faye in your lunch box.” 

He smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be very excited about that.”

“You’re welcome. And let her know if she has any issues with it, she can call or text me.” 

The crease between his eyebrows appeared as he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I’ve made them enough times over the last year and a half to make every mistake you can with them. If she has a problem, I can probably diagnose it over the phone.” 

“You don’t mind her having your number?”

I felt my facial expressions mirroring his, but from confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. As long as you’re okay with it,” I said. “Unless you think your ex-wife would mind? I don’t want to step on her toes or anything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think Angie would mind for that purpose, and I don’t have a problem with it. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t but I’ll leave it up to you. If you’d feel more comfortable being the middleman you can always call me for her.” I gave him a big smile. “And I can help you practice the whole talking thing. Then it’s a two birds with one stone kind of deal.” 

He smiled back, nodding his head. “And if she doesn’t need help?” 

“You can still call.” I shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to have a reason for calling. If I’m not at work, I’m usually pretty free. I may be cooking, or watching ‘The Golden Girls’ with Mom, but that’s about it,” I said. “I’m afraid you’re courting quite a socially boring person.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure if you’ve caught on, but I’m not exactly a sociable person, either,” he said. “So perhaps we make a good fit for each other.”

“Perhaps so,” I agreed. “We can be selectively social together.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

I let out a sigh and watched my breath turn to steam in front of me. “I better let you get back to your paperwork and I need to go help Darcy at the store. We have over fifty loaves of bread to bake before the end of the day, so depending on when I get home, you may have to deal with your date smelling like freshly baked bread.” 

He squinted slightly. “I’m not really opposed to that,” he joked with a smile that showed off the sharp ends of his canine teeth. 

I laughed. “Good to know.” 

He gave me a short hug, kissing my cheek as he pulled back. “I’ll see you this evening.” 

“I’m looking forward to it.

[pawprintsmoon]

The dust settled around him, and he wore it like glitter.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724879

“You’re not the one who slagged off the crown and your own family in the emails that everybody in the world has read. I’ve got to handle that on my own before you come back over.”

-page 384

It was two days after Henry had been cuddled awake in the Queen’s Bedroom, tangled up in fuchsia sheets and Alex’s legs. After an international flight, two sleepless nights, and a whirlwind of damage control, Shaun dropped him off for therapy. 

As he walked from the car to the clinic, he thanked God for his PPOs and empty parking lots. Paparazzi on his way to therapy would’ve been just too much. In his state of constant apprehension, he noticed the creeping chill of autumn air forecasting the upcoming Presidential election. For the past few days, he had felt like he was burning through the sky at the speed of light, but apparently the world was still turning at its normal pace.

He sat down on the sofa in Shanon’s office gingerly, because his body ached as if he’d just run a marathon. Mostly he’d just been pacing in his bedroom.

Shanon sat down in her chair across from him and said, “So, I hear you’ve had a bit of a week, huh?”

“You could say that.” Henry’s breath was shallow, as it had been ever since they’d been outed. “How much do you know?”

“Henry.” She gave him that therapist look. “You know that I try not to read news about you. I just saw that the whole world knows about you and Alex, and I know that can’t be easy for you. That’s all. I want to hear what you want to tell me about it all.”

“Right, I… well.” He wasn’t sure if he was ready to hash through it all, but he knew he could try. Despite the excess of cortisol that had been tensing him up into a knot of adrenal fatigue, he knew he was safe in Shanon’s office. He had been going there for an hour every week for the past four years. The familiarity of twinkly lights dangling in her potted tree and the meditation cushions in the corner encouraged him to speak.

“The entire world saw my insides.” He looked at the twinkly lights and took his time telling the story. “They took a picture of us through a windshield, you know, after the er, date with June. They took another through my bedroom window, but it was grainy. They didn’t publish it because it wasn’t enough to prove anything, but still. I haven’t opened my bedroom curtains since. It’s been rather dark in there.”

“They invaded your privacy,” Shanon said, understanding. “It was wrong, and it makes sense to feel vulnerable.”

“Yes, well. Then there’s our emails.” He stops and tries to take a deep breath. It doesn’t work.

She gives him some time before gently prompting, “Your emails?”

“Yes.” He was glad he got to tell her this himself and that she hadn’t read the news. It gave him back an ounce of control. “All of them. Every… every word. They were published and anybody in the world can read them. The things I said, I… That was for him. For us.”

“Wow.”

“It’s too much.” His throat was dry and his temples pounded. “It’s worse than feeling vulnerable… it was violating. Obscene.”

“Super violating, yeah. That’s a lot.”

“Indeed.”

“So, how do you feel about all of it?”

“I’m… er.” It’s odd how easy it is to spill every part of him into his writing, but as soon as he tries to talk, his stiff upper lip takes over, even with his therapist. He looked up at the feelings wheel poster on her wall to pick out some of the right words. “I feel… angry, apprehensive, overwhelmed, kind of helpless. Er… stupid for getting caught too, I suppose. Definitely experiencing some bursts of hysterical panic. I’ve been eating Jaffa cakes, and took a couple lorazepam, and Bea hasn’t left my side. So that helps.”

“Well yeah, this huge thing happened to you, completely out of your control and without your consent. Of course you’re overwhelmed.” She must know the gravity of the situation, because Henry very rarely used his ‘just in case’ benzodiazepines. “And you’re effectively using some of your coping mechanisms, so that’s admirable.”

“Thanks, yeah, I’m playing a lot of piano too.” Despite the list of negative feelings, Henry felt the corners of his lips twitch up. “Lots of Elton John.”

“You’re smiling,” she said, mirroring with a small smile of her own. “I know this smile. It’s an Alex smile, isn’t it?”

Henry actually laughed a little in response with a shrug in confirmation. His shoulders relaxed a miniscule amount. She knew him so well.

“So you’re scared and overwhelmed and angry, but what else are you feeling?”

“You see, that’s the thing. I also feel absolutely amazing.”

“Amazing! Tell me more.”

“I’m, well… I’m free. It’s exactly like Bea said, they already know everything, so I don’t have to hide anything. I kissed Alex in front of people! And I introduced him to my mom. As my boyfriend.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Shanon, it’s… I haven’t faked a smile in days.”

They sit there, just grinning at each other. That shortness of breath? Sure, it was the crippling anxiety of his secrets laid bare. But it was also the sweet flutterings of lovesickness, clear as day.

“In some ways,” Shanon said, “this is the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”

“I think you’re right. I’m...” He was positively giddy and he shrugged again letting his thoughts be nonlinear. “Well. There’s also the public support. You know I hate the spotlight, but, well. I’ve never felt so… like England loves me.”

“Your country matters to you.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded. “And I always thought the only way I could be their Prince and fulfill my duty was to be what Philip and the queen wanted. But now I don’t think that was ever my duty at all. See, I try to avoid social media because it’s all too much. Way too much. But Bea keeps showing me anecdotal stories of how I’ve helped people come out. Poor, rural teens. It feels good.

“You see, I could go to pride this year, and wear a bloody rainbow cape. I can tell everyone that my dog is named after Bowie. I could geek out about queer history -to the press! And that picture they dug up of me from uni? I looked so gay and I was embarassed and hid it, but now I’m thinking… I can look like that if I want. Hell, I could wear eyeliner if I wanted! I mean, I won’t, obviously. But the point stands.”

“That’s really exciting.”

“Yeah. It is. And bizarre. See, also, I had completely forgotten about Lord Ivar Mountbatten, my third or fourth cousin, once or twice removed? He married his husband a couple years ago and he called me yesterday,” he continued. “He’s not, like, an heir, and most people don’t know who he is, but you know. He called and it made me realise, even though this is a huge deal, even though we’re putting a dent in history, it also isn’t so big of a deal, is it?”

“Two seemingly contradictory things can be true,” Shanon agreed.

“I know,” he nodded, remembering the basics of dialectical behavioral therapy. “Like, it’s empowering to be dealing with everything on my own for once, but I also just wish I was with Alex again. I can’t seem to breathe when he’s so far away.”

She hummed, nodding.

“I’m trying to put it all together, set up the formal courting thing, adjust to mum’s new found investment in my wellbeing… it’s a lot.”

“It sounds like you’ve been really brave, deciding to come back to England alone to take care of everything,” Shanon told him. “But it’s really hard and I can tell you’re holding a lot of tension in your body. Being outed like this… it’s traumatic.”

Henry looked at his shaking hands. He hadn’t thought of it that way, but he knew she was right. “I just… we wanted to do it on our terms. Like we talked about. And now I just, I haven’t slept in days. I just feel all of the feelings and my brain won’t shut up.”

“I know,” Shanon said, voice full of compassion. “Would you like me to guide you through a body scan meditation? Then perhaps we can set some specific goals and action steps, once you’re de-escalated a bit.”

Henry agreed. His parasympathetic nervous system could use a little wind down. So she led him through a meditation and his body relaxed. After that they were able to walk through how he would relate to his mum, to the press, and to his new future. They talked about how much he loved Alex. And Bea, Pez, June, and Nora. How he was proud to be able to tackle the royals on his own, and how he was so grateful to have his support system. By the end of the session Henry’s shoulders hung heavy, and his breath deepened and slowed.

“Thanks, I’ll see you next week,” he said as he left the office.

“I’ll see you next week, Henry.” They shook hands as usual. “You got this.”

He nodded, believing her. On his way out to the car he snapped an exhausted selfie to Alex with the caption: ‘You got this.’

Within seconds Alex responded with an equally frazzled smile. ‘Love you.’

So, his steps were long and the autumn air did not spook him with it's implications of their very public future. His world had exploded and now the dust was settling around him. He would wear it like glitter.

And maybe he’d take a nap.

[trashyswitch]

Cold-Hard Eyes, With a Soft Heart

It's Scott's very first night on the job. Though Scott remembers William to be cold-hearted and critical upon first impression, The Entertainment business's main mascot happily shows Scott Mr. Afton's true, soft colors.

I've felt a craving to write more FNAF fanfics for some reason. It's just been hitting me more and more, and I'm finally getting to it!

Also: This fanfic gets into some third-person experiences with Alzheimer's Disease. If you are sensitive to this topic, then click off and find something else to read. I have experienced watching such a thing, and it is sad. But, keeping yourself level-headed and your relative happy, is key to living with a relative with Alzheimer's Disease. Anyone else: I hope you enjoy this fan-fiction rollercoaster!

Scott pulled himself up to the front of the pizzeria, and let out a breath of nervousness as he held onto the car wheel. There was a second car in the parking lot, which told him there may have been a custodian in the pizzeria. Pulling down the mirror flap on the car ceiling, Scott looked in his mirror to make sure his hair was pinned up right. When his hair appeared to be in working order, Scott put the mirror flap back up and removed the key from his car. Opening the door, he hopped out of the car and closed it behind him. The car was a little run down, but it looked somewhat newer thanks to the car wash he got for it a few hours prior. So, Scott looked like an irresistible new worker. Checking to make sure he had everything, Scott felt his pockets and mentally cursed as he felt that his usually-filled pants pocket was empty. Scott opened up his car door again, and took a minute or two to look for his stainless steel flashlight. Finally finding it in the front seat cup holder, Scott slipped the handle around his wrist before closing the door and locking it with a semi-loud *Beep!*.

Scott walked into the pizzeria, and took a few moments to admire the sight that was in front of him. There was a few set up tables with dozens upon dozens of chairs, and a stage with the animatronic robots standing on them. Though the animatronics were often seen moving around and entertaining the kids, the animatronics were shut down from a long day of entertaining kids for their birthday. Scott walked closer to the stage, to look closer at the animatronics. They didn't look metal whatsoever. They almost looked mechanical in their outside anatomy, but the fur covering seemed to mess with Scott's head a little bit. The furry look on the animatronics made them look...cuddly.

Scott frowned as he inspected them. The animatronics were kind of creepy-looking when they weren't moving. They looked dead inside when they were shut down. It was very...nerve-wracking. It almost reminded him of the creepy amusement park characters. It was not nice-looking...Though, these guys seemed a little more...friendly looking. He couldn't tell if it was because of the animals they were based off of, the general design of them, or if it was because they actually had proper-looking eyes implanted into their face. He kind of wanted to touch them...just to feel what the fur-covered front was like...

"Ah! You must be the newbie night guard." someone said beside him.

Scott jumped and yelped in surprise. Scott placed a hand onto his chest to make sure his heart was still beating, and quickly attempted to gain back his composure.

"Yes...I am. Sorry. I'm a bit jumpy." Scott told him.

The shadowy figure came into view and revealed himself to be William Afton. "Don't mention it. Checking out our beauties of the company?" William asked.

Scott mentally winced at the word he used to describe the animatronics. "Uuuh...You could say that." Scott replied. "Would I be allowed to feel it?" Scott asked. William was taken back by the strange request. "I know it sounds weird, but the outer cover...it looks fuzzy. Is it?" Scott asked.

William walked closer and looked up at the Fazbear suit. "Yes, it is." William replied. Scott reached his arm out in front of him, and felt the top of the bear's foot out of curiousity. The foot WAS fuzzy! It was somewhat hard though. It felt like thick felt was wrapped around an electronic skeleton. It was strange...It felt foreign. "Whooooaaa...It's a little like felt. Is it felt?" Scott asked.

"Nope. It's sweatshirt fleece knit fabric." William replied.

Scott removed his hand and looked down at it. "Huh..." he hummed. When Scott looked up, William had gotten much closer to him. He was standing really close at eye level, examining him. Feeling uncomfortable very quickly, Scott attempted to back up a bit. Thankfully, William didn't take any more steps forward to make up for the distance. But, the man did narrow his eyes in suspicion. "...uuuuuhh..." Was all that came out of Scott's mouth.

William looked Scott up and down one last time. "You're too good-looking for a man with this kinda job." William said bluntly in a monotone voice.

Scott was taken back by the strange comment. Was...was it a compliment? Was it an insult? Was it a bit of both? Scott didn't really know how to react. So, as to not risk losing his opportunity, Scott took it as a compliment and smiled back. "Th-...Thank you." Scott replied politely.

"In a good way." William added in a monotone voice. "I could see you being a butler with a good complexion." William added, unintentionally slurring his speech a slight bit.

Scott chuckled at the last part. Then, Scott put on a British accent and held his right hand up on the side, to make it look like he was holding a tray. "Good morning sir. How may I help you?" Scott asked, being a little silly to try and get a reaction out of the stone cold man in front of him. William lifted his chin a small bit and raised an eyebrow in curiousity. "Perhaps I could interest you in a cuppa tea and a biscuit?" Scott asked, even going as far as to lift up his right pinky finger, to make fun of Britain's manners.

William didn't really react at first. But, his lips did perk up somewhat. He even showed his teeth for a couple seconds. Scott had managed to get a small smile on his face for a few minutes. It wasn't a laugh like he was hoping, but it was definitely an indication that Mr. Afton had a bit of a humorous side. If Scott knew him a lot better than he did, then he may have teased him about showing off even the slightest smile. But, this was their first time meeting each other.

Scott slowly lowered his hand down back to his side. "So...what are you doing here? I didn't expect to meet someone else here, besides the custodian." Scott asked.

William narrowed his eyes as he looked at Scott. He crossed his arms. "The custodian comes in the morning." William told him.

Scott opened his mouth to say something, but only let out a quiet "...oh." in reply. All Scott could think about, was how hard this person was to try and talk to. For a business man, he's not much of a people person...

"I was finishing up some repairs." William replied. "Freddy needed a couple parts tightened up." William explained.

Scott's lips perked up into a small smile. "Cool! Sounds fancy." Scott reacted.

"It is a little complicated. But Mr. Emily taught me how to do the simple repairs." William told him.

Scott smiled and looked up at The Freddy Fazbear suit. It was quite big compared to him. But, it reminded him of a big, chubby teddy bear. Cuddly and loving, with a bubbly personality. An animatronic capable of moving its head, opening and closing its mouth and eyes, capable of singing, capable of leaning forward, capable of winking, capable-

Wait...Did Freddy Fazbear just wink at him?

Scott blinked and dropped his smile for a moment. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched all of Freddy Fazbear's movements carefully.

"Scott? You're zoning out." William said. "I don't want you zoning out, especially while you're working." William warned him. Scott mostly ignored William's voice and continued to focus on Fazbear's movements. "Hellooooo?" William asked, waving his hand in front of Scott's face. Scott turned his head a little to the side, and looked at William out of the corner of his eye. "He just winked at me." Scott told him.

William lifted an eyebrow. He looked at Freddy Fazbear. "The animatronic winked at you?" William clarified.

Scott nodded. "Uh huh..." Scott replied, looking back up at Freddy Fazbear. Scott very carefully watched any slight bit of movement. At one point, the hand began spinning, bit by bit. Scott's eyes widened more and more by every twitchy spin motion. Scott pointed at the bear. "His hand! I-It's spinning! Look, Mr. Afton!" Scott said, growing more and more nervous by the second. William seemed unphased. He put his hands on his hips and leaned in a bit. "Is-is he on?" Scott asked.

William looked over at him with a 'really?' expression. "Yes, he's on. He's in resting mode, but he's never truly off unless we store him away for repair or storage." William told him.

Scott began to grow slightly angry. "He's MOVING! His arm is twitching! He WINKED at me!" Scott yelled.

William sighed and closed his eyes as he rubbed his nose. "Why...Why is it always the night guards?" William asked, before looking at Freddy Fazbear.

Freddy stopped his twitching completely, and made himself completely still. William grunted. "Okay, if you're gonna show yourself, you minus well stay consistent with your moving." William ordered, snapping his fingers at the Fazbear suit.

"Wait...you-you know he's moving?" Scott asked, struggling to believe his boss or his own eyes.

"Yup. He doesn't even twitch when he moves. That's just the Freddy persona he puts on when he's hesitant on whether to move or not." William replied.

Scott looked at the animatronic again, to see if it would move on its own again. Suddenly, its whole body started moving! All at once! The animatronic frowned as it looked to its right. "Mr. Afton! Why did you have to spoil it? Getting the night guards' reactions is my favorite part!" Freddy spoke, crossing his arms and pouting like a little kid.

Scott jumped back, pointed at the talking animatronic and shouted in horror and surprise! He walked himself a few steps backwards, and began yelping and whimpering instead of full-blown shouting. Scott, through his panic, dropped his arm and watched as Freddy Fazbear jumped off of the stage and ran up to the scared man. Fearing the worst, Scott closed his eyes and got himself mentally and physically ready for his own demise...

"CUDDLE TIME!" Freddy shouted, before picking up Scott and giving him a big hug. Scott's eyes widened as he felt his whole body get wrapped in metal and fuzz, and let out a low squeak as his lungs were quickly squeezed empty by Freddy Fazbear's arms.

"Ohokay...Um- Freddy..." Scott said as best he could, with what little air he could put into his lungs.

"Freddy, buddy? Let's be careful. This is Scott's first day. Let's...warm him up with your talking first. Then, when you get his permission, you can hug him and maybe cuddle him." William told him.

Freddy opened his eyes and slowly released the newbie. "Awww...Okay." Freddy replied, placing him down carefully. As soon as the newbie was dropped, Scott took in a large breath to make up for the lost air. While Scott was trying to continue existing, Freddy had started running up to William with his arms spread wide.

"That means it's YOUR TURN!" Freddy declared, picking up William and giving him a big, fat hug. William yelped at the sudden surprise hug, but slowly melted into the tight cuddle. Scott's eyes widened. The animatronic was...cuddly and loving? What are the chances?!

"Look at you! You're more cuddly and soft than usual! I can tell!" Freddy Fazbear commented, nuzzling his snout into William's face a little bit. William rolled his eyes, but smiled as his face was squished in a loving manner.

"What's that supposed to mean?" William asked.

"It means you want the cuddles!" Freddy replied. "And you want LOTS!" Freddy specified.

William lifted up his head and lowered his brows at him. "Since when?" William asked suspiciously, wanting to know what Freddy was even talking about.

"Since now!" Freddy replied. William lifted an eyebrow up, puzzled. Freddy gently let him go, spun him around to the front, and hugged William again from the back this time. William's eyes widened at the SECOND hug he was given, but allowed him to hug him. He even patted the top of Freddy's hand with his palm. After a few good minutes of hugging, Freddy smirked as an idea came to mind. "...And I know what else you want." Freddy teased.

William turned his head to the side, and attempted to look at him from an angle. "What?" William asked, genuinely curious as to what he was gonna do. Freddy lifted his chin off of William's shoulder, and moved his right hand from across the man, to William's right hip. William's eyes widened as everything clicked. William began yelping and attempting to squirm out of his grip. "Oooooh nononononono. NO. WAY. Let me go! I'm done with the hug now PLEASE letmego- LET ME GOOO! AAAAAH!" William ordered before pushing at Freddy's hands. Freddy's hand didn't move whatsoever, and only started squeezing his hip. William grunted in fear and fell into an endless swirl of frantic squirming. He did not want to be tickled. He did NOT! WANT to be TICKLED! ESPECIALLY, in front of the new guy!

Scott's fear quickly turned into curiousity as he watched the friendly chemistry between the robot and its co-creator. It was almost reminded Scott of Luke Skywalker and R2D2's friendship. He watched as William struggled, and ultimately failed to stop Freddy from tickling him. Finally, after about 5 minutes of squirming, William thought he had gotten the upper hand. William had Freddy's wrist in both of his hands.

"Finally! I've gotcha now!" William praised himself.

Freddy smirked as he eyed up his free left hand. "I don't think so!" Freddy sing-songed, before wiggling his left fingers under William's left armpit. William gasped and clenched his teeth as giggles threatened to leave his lungs. But, he wasn't going to let him. No way, no how! William attempted to shake Freddy's hand out, but only ended up opening his armpit just enough for Freddy to tickle MORE of his armpit! Scott watched eagerly as the stone cold man that he was talking to, slowly lost his composure right in front of him. If it were himself being tickled, it'd be another story. But since it was his tough and emotionless boss, Scott loved it!

Finally, William's lips spread apart to reveal an uncontrollable, toothy, wobbly smile. "Wow! Look at that beaming smile! This smile could brighten up an entire room! That is, if you actually give it a chance to show itself..." Freddy teased. To make things go a little quicker, Freddy turned his left hand so his palm was facing Will's middle, and began wiggling his fingers on the exposed side of the stomach. William tittered as he lost control of his lungs, and slowly lost his grip on Freddy's wrist. With a little wiggling, Freddy was able to get his hand free easily, and go right back to tickling his right hip.

William couldn't take it anymore. He had to breath! So, he finally broke. "PFFFFFTHAHAHAHAHAhahahaha! HAHAhahahahaha! Cuhuhuhut ihihihit ohohohohout!" William tittered, falling into somewhat softer, but bubbly giggles as the compressed laughter finally left his lungs.

Freddy gasped and cheered! "Yes! I did it! Keep it going, Will!" Freddy said, genuinely excited.

"PRAISE the LORD, he HAS A LAUGH!" Scott cheered excitedly, chuckling at his own reaction.

William pushed against Freddy's hands as much as his weak body could, and struggled as he giggled up a storm. "Scohohohohott! Hehehehehelp mehehehehe! Pleheheheheahase hehehehelp!" William yelled.

Scott smirked and giggled at him. "...Nah. I'm good." Scott replied, waving his hand to signal his refusal. William shot Scott a desperate face. In reply, Scott only shook his head with a smug smirk.

"Now, which ticklish spot is worse? The hips?" Freddy asked, before tickling both hips.

William shrieked and kicked his feet helplessly. "OHOHOHO GAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHONONONOHOHOHOHOHO!" William yelled, hanging his head as he lost himself in his laughter.

"Ooooor the tummy?" Freddy asked, before scribbling his fingers all over William's stomach. William gasped super quickly and threw his head back.

"GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THAHAHAHAHAT'S SOHOHO MUHUHUCH WOHOHOHOHOHORSE!" William shouted outwardly for the whole pizzeria to hear.

"Who's laughing?" Someone asked.

"I recognize that laugh!" another voice added.

"Is that William?" a third voice asked.

Scott widened his eyes as he began to hear the sound of metal footsteps coming towards him. Scott awkwardly turned himself around and was met by Bonnie, Foxy and Chica.

"Hi." Scott said.

"Hey look! It's a new night guard!" Chica reacted, elbowing Foxy's arm as he looked at Scott.

"Hi. I'm Scott." Scott introduced himself, still getting used to the idea of moving animatronics. "But, I'm not important right now...I think Mr. Afton is the main attraction at the moment." Scott said, pointing at William who was squirming around in Freddy's grasp. Bonnie had already walked over, and was giggling as he watched William get tickled by Freddy.

"Hi Bonnie! Foxy...Chica...Welcome to the tickle Trap! Here, we have a special contestant by the name of William Afton! This man, right here, is the most ticklish man you will ever meet on the planet of the earth!" Freddy declares.

"Hell yeah he is. I've managed to nearly kill him with giggles, without even needing to touch him!" Chica added.

Scott covered his mouth as he giggled at the cuteness of that. "Awww! That's adorable!" Scott reacted, treating William's brand new mannerism like a newborn puppy.

"So this is how this trap works: I hug him," Freddy explained, pausing his tickling and pulling him into another tight cuddle. "I get him all comfy, maybe even nuzzle my nose into his neck," Freddy explained, shoving his bear nose into the side of William's neck. William fell into a small fit of giggles from the nose, and the teases effecting him all in one. "And then I tickle him!" Freddy concluded, tickling his fingers all over William's belly. William's giggles exploded into loud, strong laughter. "GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHO BEHEHELLYHYHYHYHYHYHY!" William pleaded, his voice ending up higher-pitched near the end.

Scott, along with the other animatronics, giggled as they watched the silliness unfold. It was very interesting to see a man with a tough wall built up around him, to just crumble to the teasing and the childhood bonding that comes with tickling.

"The best part is that he enjoys this! He loves the attention." Foxy tells him.

Scott gasped and looked at him. "Really?!" Scott reacted.

"Yeah! If you look really closely, you'll be able to notice how much he's enjoying it. If he wasn't enjoying the attention, William would've fought harder, gotten out of Freddy's grip a lot earlier and would've probably threatened us with shut-down. But...He doesn't wanna stop Freddy." Foxy tells him.

Scott looks back at William as he hears William's laughter die down. Freddy was holding onto him under his armpits, while William fell limp into his arms. "You okay William? I didn't take it too far, did I?" Freddy asked.

William lifted up his forearm and gave the 5-people audience a 'give me a second' signal. When he gained back more of his breath, William smiled uncontrollably as he breathed. "Ihi'm...okay *huff* This is *huff* Great. *huff* comfyyyy." William replied, giving Scott the 'Okay' sign and going limp.

Freddy smiled and calmly placed William down onto the ground. When William was comfortable enough, Freddy got back up and looked at Scott. "How do you feel now?" Freddy asked.

Scott placed a finger on his chin as he hummed in thought. Scott's lips slowly perked into a smile when he decided how he thought. "I think this is cool. moving, communicating animatronics? A huge robot teddy bear that hugs you? Count me in!" Scott replied. Foxy, Bonnie and Chica smiled and reacted to the nice reaction. Freddy Fazbear was smiling widely, and trying not to jump around and scream like a toddler, in front of the newbie. Scott giggled at the clear amount of restraint Freddy was using on himself to not turn into a gigantic toddler in a matter of seconds. But, Scott could handle it. William was practically dead on the floor, so he'd have to handle it whether he liked it or not.

"So hugs?" Freddy asked, opening his arms.

Scott gave Freddy a toothy, excited smile. "Definitely hugs!" Scott replied. Scott looked at Freddy's arms, and immediately sensed what Freddy wanted. "Do you want a hug now?" Scott asked.

"I mean, if you're comfortable with it, then absolutely! Freddy's welcoming you with open arms!" Freddy replied. Still spreading his arms, Freddy kneeled down on one knee so he was a bit shorter for the shorter-statured man. Scott giggled as he ran up to the bear and wrapped his arms right around the huge bear. Freddy happily wrapped his own arms around him, and stood back up with the human in his arms. Thankful for the human's quick warm up to him, Freddy gave him lighter squeezes that didn't squeeze the air out of his lungs. Rather, Freddy slightly squeezed the man so that little giggles left his lungs. Scott could still breath enough to let in more air after he giggled as well! I guess Freddy had developed some kind of concept of how fragile and needy the human functions are.

William sat himself up and smiled at the sight. It's honestly incredible how quickly Scott was able to warm up to the robot bear. Perhaps exploiting his weak spots and his laughter somewhat helped in the process? William wasn't sure. But, he sensed the possibility.

"EEEEEEK! Freheheheheddyhyhy! Yohohohohou're tihihihicklihihing mehehehe!" Scott giggled as his neck was tickled with Freddy's nose.

"You have a ticklish neck too!" Freddy declared. Scott nodded his head amidst his giggly mood. Then, Freddy decided to start early with the tickles. "Are you ticklish anywhere else?" Freddy asked. Freddy started wiggling his fingers on the sides for a second, to test the waters.

"EEEEEP!" Scott squealed! He covered his mouth almost immediately after the sound left his lips. Freddy dug his fingers further into his sides. "EEEEEhehehehehehehe! Tihihihickleehehehehehehehehe!" Scott bursted, falling into high-pitched, cute giggles.

William's face slowly developed a pink, light blush. That was the man's laugh? It was so innocent! So cute! So...bubbly! William began to lose control of his lips as they perked up into a wobbly smile from the cuteness overload. It was almost too much for him to handle!

I think it was also too much for the other animatronics to handle as well!

Foxy quickly ran up to Scott and Freddy, and began cooing! "Awww! That giggle is so adorable, I could burst!" Foxy cooed.

Chica was giggling as well as he walked up next. "Awwww! Is someone a widdle tickwish? Is someone too tickle-tickle-ticklish for their own good?" Chica teased, wiggling a finger on his belly to test out the spot.

Scott bursted into actual human laughter, and began attempting to push away Chica's itchy finger. "NAAAAHAHAAAAH! CHIHIHIHICAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT YOHOHOHOU TOOHOHOHO!" Scott begged.

Bonnie walked up to Scott and Freddy last. "You know what? I think this is all you need to get a job at a pizzeria with us: A loving heart and very ticklish nerves!" Bonnie added.

William chuckled. "Maybe to you guys...But it's the bosses that discuss...the daily night-guards." William told him.

Freddy gasped, paused his tickling and waved away Chica's finger before spinning towards William with Scott in his hand. "Can you hire him?" Freddy asked. William lifted both eyebrows up in surprise.

"Pleeeeeeeeaaaaase?" Chica begged.

Scott's entire face was a little red from the tickling, but his cheeks were the most red out of his entire face! The animatronics were really making him blush! And he really didn't know how to handle it.

William lowered his eyes back down and stood up onto his feet. William kept his eyes on Scott as he walked himself up to the man.

"Uuuuhh..." Was all Scott said as he watched William's face get closer and closer. When William's body got as close as it could, William leaned himself in a bit to make up the difference. Scott widened his eyes, and awkwardly looked to his left and his right before looking back at Mr. Afton. Suddenly, William's facial expression softened into a smile. he looked down at Scott's tummy with a smile, and lifted up a finger. Reaching it down towards the new night-guard's tummy, William ignored the wobbly smile and the nervous giggles that left Scott's mouth and focused on poking his tummy with his index finger.

"AAhahahaha! Mr. Afton, wahahahait! Whyhyhy yohohou too? Ihihi dohohon't gehEHEHEhehet ihihihit!" Scott asked, his laughter heightening in volume when William wiggled his poking finger on the man's stomach.

William shrugged his shoulders before retreating his finger. Looking at the man with a genuine smile, William pointed his finger calmly at Freddy. "Can you please put him down?" William asked kindly.

Freddy nodded and let him go, placing Scott onto his feet. When Scott turned himself to look at his potential boss, William's smile got wider as he held out his hand for a shake. "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Scott." William told him. Scott gasped and eagerly shook his hand. "Call me William." the boss said with a wink.

Scott nodded his head and let go of his hand with excitement spreading through his body. "I will!" I certainly will!" Scott said excitedly.

William's smile remained for a good 5 minutes or so, before disappearing behind the invisible walls of his outer, emotionless self. But, Scott understood it. He didn't feel a need to kick William out of the emotionless void he created for himself. What mattered to Scott was that it's his bosses way of coping, and that he can get him out of it.

Scott ended up getting an extra training day that night. He got to learn how each camera worked, what cameras showed him which rooms, and where his emergency exits were in case of emergency. Though there were day shifts that Scott would need to take, Scott mostly took the night shifts while someone else took the day shifts. Though Scott never really figured out who the day time security guard was, Scott became somewhat close to William as time went on. Scott got to know William from lots of repair visits, and Scott would update William on how the animatronics are doing.

During the night shifts, Scott started out just remaining in the security room. But as time went on, Scott would get visited by the animatronics at least once per day, and would grow to love the animatronics like close friends. When Scott was feeling a little down, Freddy would give him one of his signature cuddles to cheer him up. When Scott was bored, Chica would happily play games with him. One of the times, Scott gave Chica a walkie-talkie and tell him to go hide. When Chica was ready, he would tell him on the walkie-talkie and Scott would start looking for him on the security cameras. When the games ended quicker and quicker, Chica would start risking more and more so that he could get a longer game. Through running from room-to-room alone, Chica had managed to make a game last a good 45 minutes before Scott just gave up and told him to come out.

With all the fun times Scott had with the animatronics, he began to work overtime, just to volunteer and happily play with them! When Scott was technically off work hours, Scott would hang out in the game room with the animatronics. There have been multiple occasions where William has found Scott hiding from one of the animatronics during hide and seek. There's also been silly moments where Scott will be rocking out with the animatronic band! William actually stayed to watch them for a few minutes, before focusing on his task that day.

Though William liked seeing Scott play and hang out with the big robots, William wasn't much of a player himself. William was more of a watcher and an observer who loved saving bits of footage of funny Night Guard moments with the Fazbear suits. William even managed to get a video tape of Scott doing an impression of Freddy Fazbear! Bonnie, Foxy and Chica were laughing, while Freddy was shaking his head with a smirk on his face. That funny moment ended up turning into a one-sided tickle fight between Freddy and Scott. William thought Scott's impressions were absolutely phenomenal! And accurate! William couldn't stop laughing at the amount of bear jokes he made!

So when William and Henry began explaining their plans for a fifth and a sixth animatronic, Scott was ecstatic! He was so excited to meet a couple new animatronic faces and add more animatronic robots to the Fazbear crew! So, Scott offered to meet the new animatronics and introduce them and everything. While Henry was a bit hesitant, William happily allowed Scott to help! He's seen what Scott can do with them. What could go wrong?

Well, Scott's excitement turned into confusion when he saw that the new animatronics were golden versions of Bonnie and Freddy. Scott...didn't know how to react. Though he put on a really good acting face for the introduction, Scott walked away feeling...hurt inside. The new animatronics were...cold. Very cold-hearted compared to Freddy and Bonnie. To make matters worse, it looked like William Afton was trying to replace Freddy Fazbear and Bonnie with golden, upgraded animatronics. Scott was a little hurt by this. He felt like the singer and the guitar player were getting taken for granted, and felt...nostalgic and judgmental of William's choices. Even though the animatronics were going to last longer than the original Freddy and Bonnie were, It felt like a rock band was getting pulled apart. Scott felt like he was witnessing the split of The Beatles band. It was painful to watch unfold. Though Scott tried to create a relationship with the golden Freddy Fazbear, it was a lot harder thanks to its cold-hearted nature. Something about a cold robot that was meant to give kids joy and excitement, seemed to scare him. The animatronics should be able to show emotion! Not sit there like dead animals!

And then came the bite of 87...Turns out, Scott's predictions were unfortunately correct. And oh boy...did that sting...

But through the years, Scott stayed true to his relationships with the original band of robotic animals. As years turned into a decade though, Scott began to watch the happiness fade from their eyes, little by little. Freddy, Foxy, Chica and Bonnie were beginning to forget human faces versus animatronic faces. Eventually, Scott had to start wearing bear masks to keep himself safe from being physically harmed by the animatronics. To add to the sad news, The Fazbear suits began giving off a smell that was sort of...off putting. Scott couldn't explain it. It didn't stop him from visiting them, but it certainly made him question what was going on. Perhaps it was the animatronics getting old? Maybe their brains were getting a little mixed up from malfunctioning wires and parts? Scott couldn't tell you.

What Scott COULD tell you, was that he warned William and attempted to ask for a reason behind this robotic version of depression.

In reply, William only told him this: "They're probably going insane from singing the same songs over and over again. If a human mind can go insane from hearing one single song for too long, I'm sure the Fazbear band can lose their mind as well".

Scott decided to trust William on his judgement. Though the animatronics' version of Alzheimer's got worse, Scott made due with as much of it as he could. He didn't give up on them. He just couldn't. Not yet. When he missed them, Scott would have to ask them for cuddles and tickle attacks to properly remember the more playful times they used to have together. That would sometimes cheer him up. But...it wasn't a long-term solution...

Meanwhile, William had grown quite fond of Scott and his ability to stay committed to the animatronics no matter their strange and worrying behaviors. So when Henry and William's partnership ended, William felt bittersweet about it. William had lost a close friend of his, who meant the world to him. But at the same time, that allowed a new job opening for Fazbear Entertainment. William, knowing how well Scott worked with the animatronics, invited him to come be his new partner in the Fazbear Entertainment company. Absolutely honored to take on such a role, Scott accepted his offer and became a full-time partner in the entertainment industry. Though saying goodbye to the night guard job was very hard to do, Scott told them all that once he gets his new schedule, Scott will find time to visit the animatronics as much as he can.

On the Monday evening, Scott picked up his phone and called the night guard phone line in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. When the phone wasn't picked up, Scott still recorded a message for the brand new night guard:

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay? Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced." Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.

So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?

Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.

Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."

Scott hung up, and sighed into his hands. Please let the animatronics be good for the new guy...

[bethagain]

I saw a post the other day lamenting that Din probably hasn’t felt the sun on his skin in years, and it reminded me that I never did share a tumblr version of this fic.

So, here's part III of my series On From Here. In which Din moves some rocks, eats some cake, and sits in a sunbeam.

Honest Work

The inn has a mechanical lift. It’s a small square box that lowers on a pulley. A thin cable rises from its roof and disappears into darkness above. Din looks at it skeptically and then takes the stairs. They’re narrow and dark, the treads shallow.  

“Leave the key!” the innkeeper calls after him, as he strides across the dimly lit lobby toward the exit. 

Making an enemy of his host here is not a good idea. 

He pauses to lay the key on the counter. The dull brass shank of it clinks against its worn metal fob. There’s nothing in the room to steal, anyway. 

-

The town center consists of a handful of low-slung buildings, all with the same tile roofs. Din pauses at the window of a repair shop. Everything inside looks old, mechanical, un-streamlined. They’d probably know exactly how to fix up the Razor Crest, with its pre-Imperial control system and antique wiring. If there were still a Razor Crest to fix.

Next is a general store, with bolts of fabric, tools, and fresh produce all for sale together. There’s a four-legged riding beast tied outside, a simple saddle on its back. A woman is choosing meemfruit from a bin near the door. She turns to watch him walk by. 

There doesn’t seem to be a proper drinking establishment. At the end of the row is a small cafe, with a handful of tables and a bar at the back. Several of the tables are occupied. Some people on their own, some groups of adults, a couple of families. Most have plates of food in front of them. A shelf above the bar holds an assortment of liquor bottles. 

This place will have to do. 

He orders a glass of whiskey, for the sake of manners, and settles in at the bar to wait. The armor serves as its own advertisement. 

"You're not going to find what you’re looking for here."

He turns toward the voice. The words are from a grizzled man seated at a corner table. 

Din doesn’t bother answering, just squares his shoulders back toward the bar again. Every place has someone who’s hiding. And someone else who wants them found.

The man has come over to the bar, now, and is sliding onto the stool beside him. 

Great.

"This is not that kind of town."

"Every town is that kind of town." 

"Not here." The man signals to the waiter, who pours something from a spigot and sets it down. Tiny bubbles break its surface, making a faint sound of static. He takes a drink. "We didn't hold with the Empire. We don't hold with the New Republic. We live and let live, around here."

"Fine." Maybe if Din agrees, this man will go away.

"You try to bring somebody in, the whole town's going to stop you."

"Look," says Din, "I have no quarrel with anyone here. I'm just looking to earn a few credits."

The helmet’s interface lets him know that someone’s taken the barstool on his other side. The screen fills the gaps in his peripheral vision. It’s a woman, long hair in a braid, sleeveless top and arms of solid muscle.

“Not here,” she says.

The other tables are emptying, more townspeople coming to form a semicircle behind him. Even the children are glaring at him.

Damn.

“All right.” He knows better than to move his hands without a warning. “Let me pay for my drink, and I’ll be on my way.” He reaches slowly for the pouch at his waist, keeping his hand well clear of his blaster. “What do I owe you?”

The bartender names a figure. Din doubles it, setting down the small stack of credits before rising to leave. 

The bartender tries to give the extra back. “That’s too much.”

“You keep it,” Din says. “Payment for the trouble.”

“Hold on.” It’s the man on the barstool beside him again. “You really just looking for work?”

Din waits, standing there by the bar. The townspeople stay there in their circle, but hands are starting to drift away from holsters. The weapons here seem to be mostly slugthrowers. Mechanical things, not blasters with their circuitry and electrics. Interesting.

“Any kind of work?” the man asks.

There are limits, even for someone like Din. “Honest work.”

The man grins at him, white teeth flashing through his unruly beard. “You look strong enough,” he says. “If it’s not beneath you, in your fancy armor there. I need somebody to move some rocks."

-

The job is not at all what Din had in mind, but it does, indeed, sound like honest work. And he’s not in a place to be picky. 

He’s sitting next to the bearded man on a plank across the front of a high-wheeled wooden cart. The cart is pulled by two solid-looking beasts, four-legged and shaggy. Their pace is sedate and steady, the cart rolling easily over grassland. They’re headed toward a row of trees in a valley, between rolling hills. 

The trees mark a stream, the man says, and on that stream is an old stone dam that diverts the water. “We’re opening up new farmland. Need to get that water back in its proper course. Get it down to the right place on the land. My regular crew could do it, but it’s heavy work. They’re not itching to volunteer.”

“Why not use an antigrav lifter?” Why pay a man for a whole day’s work, when a simple machine would cut that down to a couple of hours. 

“We’re not big believers in tech around here. Parts have to be imported. Electric’s complicated to repair. We don’t care to be dependent on anyone, any more than we have to.”

That explains the shop in town, then, with its antique machinery in the window. And the hotel lift, and the drying jets that don’t work anymore.

“That’s why the slugthrowers?"

-

“You noticed. That’s right.” The man chuckles. “Keeps things calmer, too. If you have to forge a new bullet every time you use one, you’re a little less likely to draw.”

The cart trundles along. The sky overhead is a clear blue, the sun warm. Din nudges up the cooling system in his armor. 

They go along a little way among the trees, until they’re beside a narrow stream of clear water. It emerges from a low pile of stones at the edge of a pond. 

From his seat on the cart, the man points to a smaller valley that runs off to the right. “The pond drains over that way, now. Pull the dam out, and it’ll run the way it should again.”

Din takes in the clear stream, the small oval pond, the branching valley. “Who’s using that water now?”

“The folks over yonder were a little too friendly with the Empire,” the man says. “Town asked them to leave.”

“Did they leave?”

“I thought you bounty hunters had a rule about asking questions.”

“This isn’t a Guild job,” Din says.

“Suppose not." The man turns to reach toward the back of the cart, and Din tenses. But he’s just picking up a wooden box by its leather handle. He hands it to Din. "Here's lunch. We're not fancy but our crew eats well. Water in the stream's safe to drink. And don’t worry, there’s no one left to come bother you.”

He waits while Din climbs down from the cart. “You could walk out when you’re done, but it's a long way after a day's work. I'll be back to get you at sundown."

Din watches the cart make its sedate way back through the trees, the shaggy beasts pulling at their traces, the man humming off-key as he goes.

He finds a flat rock to put the lunch box on. It contains a dented metal cup, a stack of wrapped sandwiches, some pieces of a fruit he doesn’t recognize, and a generous slice of cake that smells of ginger and dark sugar.

He closes the box back up again and goes over to inspect the dam.

This certainly isn’t his usual kind of work. But a ship needs fuel and a man needs food, and pushing on to the next port with just the credits he has on hand feels reckless. Unwise. Plus, being in debt to Boba Fett is like a deep itch under his skin. It’s not comfortable. He wants it gone. 

Din is no engineer, but piloting a ship means he’s used to thinking in three dimensions. He considers the shape of the dam, the way the rocks are stacked atop one another, the chinks where the water flows through. The thing looks like it was hand-built, the stones large enough not to move with the water but small enough to be picked up. The original stream cut a gully into the soil, but it’s shallow, the dam itself only a bit over knee-high. 

The forest floor here is carpeted with broad, leathery leaves. Wide-trunked trees are spaced far apart, with little undergrowth between them. Their canopies cast shade across the ground. Here and there, a few sunbeams find their way through. 

If he starts at the far side, removing the rocks in vertical columns, the stream should come slowly back to life. His gloves will protect his hands from the roughness of the stone. His boots are already sticking in the mud at the edge of the water. They’re water-resistant, good for a while in a rainstorm, but they’re going to be soaked through by the time he’s done. 

At first, muscles complain at being asked to move in ways they’re not used to. This steady pattern of bend, lift, bend is very different from the sudden, sharp quickness of a fight. His daily workouts are rigorous but they’re precise, prescribed patterns. Each of these stones has a different shape, a different weight. Keeping his feet out of the water, keeping his balance on the slight slope makes each one its own physics problem, its own little challenge.

Soon enough, though, he’s settled into the rhythm of it. He remembers to use his legs when lifting, to save strain on his back. He kicks up the cooling system again, as sweat begins to gather under the armor. 

The armor’s physiological monitors are simple, but they register heartbeat, breathing, temperature. Normally, he ignores the ping that says it might be time to take a break, to drink some water and catch his breath. Because normally, when that ping goes off, taking a break would either be desperately stupid--in the middle of a firefight?--or stupidly desperate, like during the hours walking the Tatooine desert back to Mos Eisley, carrying the wreckage of a speeder bike, no water at all on board.

This time, he gets the dented cup from the wooden box and carries it over to the stream. It’s already flowing faster, but his work has kicked up sediment. Din goes back to the box, grabs one of the wrapped sandwiches, and sets out to find the pond’s other outlet. 

It’s not far. The other stream burbles over a few rocks at the edge of the pond, then curves through another shallow gully and off down a gentle slope and away. One of the great trees rises nearby, a couple of its wide roots undercut by the water. 

He’s starting to feel chilled as the cooling system interacts with sweat-dampened clothing, so he switches the cooling circuits off. The helmet’s interface tells him the air outside is still warm. 

Din considers, sandwich in one hand, cup in the other. There is a sunbeam crossing over the tree roots, making the water sparkle.

The forest around him is quiet. 

Decision made, he dips the cup in the stream, then chooses a spot to sit on one of the wide tree roots, back against the trunk. He balances the cup on the leaf-covered ground, sets the sandwich down beside it. Then he lifts the helmet from his head, setting it in his lap as he rests his head on the tree’s rough bark, eyes closed against the brightness of the sun.

When did he last feel sunlight on his skin? It’s been a while. Before he picked up the child, surely. It hasn’t been safe to let his guard down. How long before that, though? He thinks back, but it’s a blur of work, the halls of the Nevarro covert, the streets of strange towns. 

Din knows better than to stay in the sun for long. Skin that’s always covered has no defense against UV rays. After a few minutes he shifts to the shade, sitting crosslegged on the forest floor. The water from the stream is sweet, with a slight mineral taste underneath. The sandwich isn’t bad either, fresh bread dotted with different kinds of grain, slices of some kind of tender meat and crisp green leaves with just a hint of bitter.

He makes his way back around the pond to continue the work. Wiggle each stone free. Lift, carry. He’s building a sort of stone cairn, setting each one down neatly, just because it feels good to see the thing take shape. 

His gloves are soaked by now, as he has to reach into the water to get at the lowest rows of stones. The water can’t be good for the circuits in the vambraces so he sheds those, too, setting them down on the flat rock beside the wooden lunch box, where his helmet already sits. 

He could keep the cooling system running, but it’s not designed for this kind of exertion. The constant movement will keep the power cell charged, but he’s sweating in spite of it, and the chill from the beskar is a distraction instead of a comfort. 

He’s already vulnerable without the helmet and the vambraces. He lays out cuirass, pauldrons, hip and thigh plates on that flat stone. His hand pauses on the blaster, but if it’s waterlogged it’s not going to work at all. 

He looks down at the thick fabric of the flightsuit, already wet at wrists and ankles. He's got another layer underneath it. May as well leave that too. 

He makes a detour through another sunbeam on the way back to the dam. 

Without the armor to filter the outside world, he’s aware of the warmth of the sun on his back. Of the change in temperature between sun and shadow. 

Without the helmet’s interface, he marks time by how the patches of sun creep slowly across the forest floor. 

When a rush of water takes him by surprise, soaking him from elbow to wrist and chest to hip, he sheds his shirt, laying it out on the stone cairn to dry. 

The air is still warm. The water that splashes his wrists is cool. He pauses again for food, then sets back to work. At one point he cups his hands in the running stream and drinks, then runs wet hands through his sweat-soaked hair. 

Clearing the last few stones means sinking his hands into mud to wrest them free. When he’s carried them over and set them atop the neat pile, he looks down and finds he’s covered in mud from chest to waistband. 

His employer said he’d be back at sunset. Din looks up, judging the height of the sun in the sky. Late afternoon, he guesses, edging into evening. It’s unpleasant fitting the helmet back on over wet hair, his face still damp with sweat, but he does it. The chrono built into the interface tells him there’s a good two hours until sundown. 

He turns a slow circle, heat and motion sensors overlaying his vision, sound turned up high. There’s birdsong high above him, but otherwise the forest is still. 

He fetches his shirt, piles the armor and flightsuit into his arms and carries it all to the edge of the pond. Then, thinking what the hell, he shucks boots, socks, and leggings and wades on in. 

Din doesn’t know how to swim. It’s not a skill he normally needs in his work. It’s not a skill he particularly needs now, either. But the mud is pleasantly soft against his feet, the water soothing to tired muscles. He ducks his head under, scrubs at the dirt on his chest, rinses away sweat. 

For the second time today, he uses his shirt to dry off. The approach of evening is bringing a slight chill to the air, so he pulls his other clothes back on, fastening the flightsuit over his bare chest this time before setting the pieces of his armor in place. 

Back at the flat stone he considers another sandwich, decides on the cake instead, and then sits there a while, licking sugar from his fingers and watching the stream at its full strength now as it sparkles its way down the valley. 

True to his word, the man is back with the wagon just as the sunbeams finish fading. He takes note of the neat cairn, and of the unfettered stream. “I wasn’t sure you’d really do it,” he says. “Guy like you. Work like this.”

Din just looks at him, impassive behind the helmet. He’s pretty much done with dignity these days, but this man doesn’t need to know it. 

“Well,” the man says. “We’re clearing more land tomorrow. If you want another day’s work.”

“I’ll take my pay for this one.”

“Of course.” He counts out the amount they agreed on and drops it into Din’s hand. “I mean it. We can always use a strong set of hands.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Where are you staying?”

Din names the inn. 

The man nods. “I’ll drop you there?”

“That would be fine.”

-

The first stars are out by the time Din steps down from the wagon, credits in his pocket and the last two sandwiches in his hand. He picks up the key from the innkeeper, climbs the narrow stairs, locks the door of the room behind him. He hangs his wet shirt in the shower room, lays out his wet gloves and socks to dry, strips off the armor and sets it carefully on the floor. His skin smells faintly of mud and minerals, but he can’t be bothered to shower. He sits by the window to eat, watching more stars emerge from the clear, dark sky. 

The money in his pocket won’t buy much. It’s a little more fuel, another day or two of getting by. 

He’ll leave in the morning. Probably. 

He still has no idea where to go.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

The “Rescue”

Slade Wilson x reader

Summary: Arkham Knight era, the boy needs a hand after he gets caught

Word Count: 1830

If someone had asked that morning how he thought this whole “attack Gotham on Halloween” thing was going to go, Slade probably would have said literally anything other than the way it actually had gone. Months of careful planning somehow ended with him sitting in a cell at the police station with every crazed idiot that plagued the cesspool they called a city. The man poorly singing opera in the middle of said cell especially grated on his already frayed nerves.

It hadn’t helped that all of those irritating criminals had gotten especially antsy about ten minutes prior when damn near every cop in the precinct rushed out with whispers of something happening at Wayne Manor on their lips. Slade could only hope the Knight made it out okay. But it didn’t matter, not much he could do to help the kid until after he got himself out of here. An annoying task in and of itself considering that his gear had been confiscated upon arrival; he was lucky no one had had the balls to try and take his mask. So he chose to bide his time, head leaned back against the bars as he sat on the ground and tried to ignore the other prisoners around him.

The phrase ‘Time is an illusion’ came to mind while Slade sat waiting for something to happen, something that would give him the chance to escape. Cops weren’t back yet, so it hadn’t been too long. Still, he was getting antsy, eager to leave the company of Gotham’s Craziest. Though, he wasn’t so eager that he was happy when the power suddenly cut out. Predictably, there was a sudden hush among the prisoners before the chatter returned twofold.

This can’t be good.

“You look like shit, Wilson.”

His eyes slid closed and he sighed, automatically recognizing that voice. He’d better after all the times and contexts in which he’d heard it.

“He’s wearing a mask!” Cobblepot argued. “How the hell can she know that?”

“Shut up!” Dent snarled. “You fucking idiot. Do you not recognize her mask? She’s almost as bad as him!”

Ignoring them, Slade turned to look at her. Sure enough, her mask (one much like the Knight’s) was blocking whatever facial expression she had, but her body language spoke volumes about her attitude. The outfit she was wearing fit poorly; something she’d stolen from a militia member to blend in most likely. “Why are you here?”

You crossed your arms, weight falling to one hip. There was a little time to spare before the skeleton police crew came to check on this particular group of criminals. “A mutual friend of ours asked me to make sure you made it out of town.”

“I don’t need your help, Y/N.”

“Like it or not, you’ve got it. The Bat’s dead; his manor blew sky high with him in it.”

That sent a wave of murmurs through everyone that was openly listening to the two of them argue.

The crowd was loud enough to cover the quiet, “Allegedly,” that was for Slade’s ears only. “So, do you want out of here or not?”

“Suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” he grumbled, rising to his feet slowly.

“Who are you callin’ a horse, Wilson?” you challenged even as you pried the door open.

None of his cellmates were stupid enough to challenge Deathstroke as he exited the cell and closed the door behind him. “The woman that felt the need to break her ex-husband out of jail without even getting paid for it, Ms. Wilson.” It was always amusing to him, the fact that you never bothered to change your name back to what it was before. Well, it amused him about as much as it hurt him.

“Well, everybody always says I have shit judgement, so I figured I’d say ‘fuck it’ and lean into it this time.”

It was only once both of them were in one of the militia’s armored transports that Slade started to relax the slightest bit, and even then it was in no small part due to the fact that you’d handed him a duffel full of his gear. Apparently you’d made a pit-stop by the evidence lockup before grabbing him.

“So the Knight sent you?” he asked as she drove, the vehicle headed out of the city. He wasn’t leaving your presence anytime soon as far as he could tell, so he might as well make nice in the meantime.

You nodded, eyes remaining carefully trained on the road. Looking at him . . . well, it was never a good idea for you. “He messaged me as soon as things went sideways with the Bat. Took me a few hours to get here.”

“Little shit had no faith that I’d get the job done?”

A smirk tugged at your lips. “You don’t exactly have a winning track record going against Batman alone, and your thugs--trained or not--stood no chance. Don’t get mad at him though; he was worried about you.”

“And you’d do anything for him.”

You nodded, and out of the corner of your eye you saw him echo the gesture. It was against your better judgement, but you couldn’t stop the admission from sliding from your lips as easily as curses normally did. “And for you.”

Every muscle in Slade’s body froze at that; for once he had no idea what to say. “Y/N. . .” 

You just sighed.

There was a reason for your relationship in the first place, after all, as well as your divorce. The love you two had was a dangerous one; there were no lengths one of you wouldn’t go to if it meant saving the other. The only people that could claim something similar from Slade were his children, and that was only after you helped them reconcile. And the love you shared had never faded. In fact, the problem was the exact opposite. You two had hated to be apart, hated that your separate contracts often made you go weeks without seeing the other, and more importantly each of your enemies started going after the other in an endless search for weaknesses. For Slade it was no problem. For you . . . Let’s just say it was a shame that you didn’t have his enhancements.

So the two of you staged a massive fight and ended it between you. That was ten years ago, and not a day went by that you didn’t wish things were different.

When you glanced over, you saw that he’d removed his mask, and yeah looking at him was never a great idea for you. Confirmed. It only reminded you how much you loved him. And the fact that he was still handsome even years after all the years since he was the young brunet mercenary you met so long ago.

Slade found himself in a similar situation over in the passenger seat. As much as his first wife taught him he was bad at the whole feelings thing, you taught him that he could be more than that. His cold heart gave a solid thud at the sight of you removing your own mask with the smooth familiarity of someone who’d done it a thousand times and carelessly tossing the marvel of mechanical headwear into the back seat. You’d gained some wrinkles over the years you’d spent away from him as well as some grey hairs, but you were still stunning. Maybe it was a good thing you never took it off around him while the two of you were working with the militia down in Venezuela . . . 

“I thought we agreed . . .” he muttered, normal confidence put aside for honesty just like it always was when talking to you.

“Do you remember what it was like back then?”

“When?”

“That trip when we stayed in that backwater beach house in South America.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Second honeymoon. Rose wanted to kill us for getting her to dogsit.”

You nodded, fingers flexing on the steering wheel as you fought the urge to reach over and touch him. “She agreed, and I paid her.”

“It was a wolfhound you trained to help you on jobs; it was a beast.”

“Rover was a good boy, and you loved him.”

“You knew she couldn’t say no to you.”

“Okay, that I can’t argue.”

There was a moment of amused silence where Slade simply enjoyed your company for a moment. But all good things in his life had to end, so, “Why do you bring it up?”

You hesitated, face nervous, a rare thing when you were talking to him even after the divorce. “I miss it.” Even someone as emotionally stunted as Slade Wilson could hear the unsaid, “I miss you,” in your tone.

“Did something happen?”

You shook your head. “Been thinking about it for a while, actually. Ever since we started helping the Knight.”

It really had been a while, then, since Jason Todd hired both of you over a year ago to help gather and train his army. You buying and programming the drones and equipment as well as building the Knight’s mask in a style similar to your own, Slade training the people how to actually fight. Crossing paths had been both inevitable and painful.

“What you’re thinking . . . Y/N, it isn’t a good idea.”

Abruptly, you slammed on the brakes. Slade absolutely would have hit the windshield if his reflexes had been any slower and he hadn’t been able to brace himself in time. Your eyes were practically blazing when you turned to glare at him. “Slade Wilson, if you can look me in the eye right now and convince me that you don’t want the same thing, I’ll drop it and you’ll never see me again.”

The thing was he couldn’t do that. You knew how to hit him where it mattered, that was sure. Mentioning his kids (both of which still loved and looked up to you), that trip . . . Yeah . . . He wanted you around just as much as you wanted him around. God only knows why she wants me.

He sighed heavily. “If we do this, we’ll have to be partners. None of that working separately shit that got us in trouble before.”

“Lucky for us, we already know how each other works.”

Slade rolled his eyes, relaxing into his seat once more as you started driving again. “Why do I feel like the kid set this up?”

“Because he’s a manipulative little shit just like the rest of our kids except he has the Bat’s subtlety?” you offered ‘helpfully.’

Meaning that he has none? Slade chose to focus on that instead of the way a little thrum of pleasure passed through him at the way you talked about his children like they were your own; though, he supposed you were right to address Jason as one of them. Despite himself, he’d grown pretty damn fond of the little bird. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

7 Days to Die - Part 4

Threats

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: gun fights,  mild angst, injuries, SPN level blood and gore, scary situation, cliffhanger ending

Summary: All seems like a normal day  in the woods, but when two camps fight for whatever reason, leaving Jensen and the reader in the crossfire. It becomes a fight against the unseen enemy.

a/n: if you’ve ever played the last of us, you’ll know what is gonna come next…no, the cannibal part was the last one…I got twists up my sleeve. ENJOY! :)

Word Count:  1,494

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Main Masterlist

7 Days to Die Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

~

She woke up to Jensen holding her close, she noticed she feels safe and well rested.

“You were crying out in your sleep.” He says. She stiffens, she didn’t realize he was up already. But relaxes right away.

“I didn’t wake you or anything?” she asks.

“No, I got in the house and heard you yelling my name.” he says.

“It’s just…” she says, trailing off. Before casting her eyes away from his, letting tears escape.

He felt her shudder, letting sobs silently escape.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetie.” He says. He brought up a hand, brushing some hair behind her ear, getting it out of her face. Cupping her cheek when he brought his hand down.

“I never stuck around a group before. Or been in the company of other people. Either they use me for sex, or to get them supplies like cheap labor. Or, they die off, like I’m some kind of bad luck or curse.” She cries. “It’s like I’m getting these poor people killed.” She sobs.

Wheels in his head began to work in her direction. “Wait, do you blame yourself for Jared?” he asked.

When she didn’t answer, his heart sank.

“Sweetheart, that wasn’t your fault. Shit happens, you just have bad luck. You’re not the bad luck. Just, call it bad timing.” He says, as he holds her close in a tighter embrace. She sobbed, crying hard in his arms. Part of her believed him, but the demons in her head kept trying to convince her otherwise.

He plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay sweetheart. I don’t blame you for anything, I bet Jared wouldn’t either.” He says.

She pulls away to look at him, to see if he’s lying to her. But she sees a soft and gentle look from Jensen that tells her he’s telling her the truth.

“Have a few extra minutes to yourself, I’m gonna get us something to eat.” He says, getting out of bed, working her out of his arms doing so.

She turns onto her back, wiping her tears from her face taking a deep breath, relaxing.

 After a quick breakfast of apples picked from nearby trees, they hit the road.

“What were the kids odds with the fever and all?” she asked after some hours on the silent walk.

“Misha said with JJ, she has a shot. The twins it might be hard to tell since their immune systems are still developing. But with Danneel, it was attacking her hard-core. Said it threw her immune system into overdrive, she might not have a chance.” Jensen said.

“Well, we just need to hurry with these meds. She might have a shot.” Y/N said.

“How can you remain so cheery, and positive?” he asks.

“I don’t know. But it’s how I am. I always smile, because I have to. It keeps me somewhat sane. Keeps me from ending it all.” She says.

“Like hell I would let you kill yourself.” Jensen says. “It just amazes me in all this, death and despair, you’re still happy and all smiles. Well, maybe not always happy.” He says.

“I amaze myself sometimes.” She says.

A loud boom interrupts their conversation.

“That sounded close.” She says.

“Yes it did.” Jensen says.

It all happened so fast. A shot rang out, and Jensen was on the ground clutching his side, just near his hip. Y/N ducks down, low to the ground. But once they were out of sight, the shots kept going but not towards them.

“We’re near camps.” Jensen says gasping. He held on to his injury for dear life to stop the bleeding.

“A war?” she asked.

“More than likely,” Jensen says. “We gotta get out of here.” He adds, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain.

“You’ve been hit.” She says. Crawling over to him. She assesses his injury. “God you’re just gushing,” she says, shimmying out of Jensen’s flannel he lent her. She moves his hands briefly to place the flannel over the wound to help with stopping the bleeding.

When she tried to look around, after she got Jensen set with slowing the bleeding, the shooting began to come back to her. She gets down low.

“We’re surrounded.” She cries.

“We’re gonna die if we can’t get out of here.” He says, voice rough from him fighting the pain.

“We might have to back track, wait them out.” She says.

“However long that may be.” Jensen says.

“Jay, you’re bleeding out, if we try to get around them, you’re injury will get worse, with ducking and dodging bullets. Yes, we lengthen our time out here if we head back to the cabin, but we need to get you out of the open, and patch you up.” she says.

“You’re right, god I know your right I just want to get back home.” he says.

“I know, I want to at least make a home for myself, and we’ll get there. But first, we have to actually get there first. Alive.” She says.

He nods. She can see him growing tired.

Shit, he’s still losing so much blood. She thought.

“How much do you think you can move?” she asked.

“I’ll make do, let’s head back and wait them out.” He says. As he rolls to his stomach and prepares to army crawl out of the crossfire.

Once they were clear, crawling for what seemed like several feet to nearly a mile. She helped Jensen to his feet, and they hurried to the nearest cabin.

Y/N checked to see if it was occupied, silence confirmed they were alone.

Jensen plopped down on the couch, the color leaving his face quick.

She searched each and every pack Jensen had on him, finding a kit for stitching and removing unwanted items.

“Okay, this is happening.” She says. “I didn’t see an exit wound, so the bullet is still in you. We need to get it out, despite it holding the bleeding, kind of.” She says.

“I know the drill, trust me. I’ve been through worst, Jared’s removed bullets from me before.” He says.

“Don’t…don’t tell me the stories yet…” she says, getting worked up. “Now, take this.” She says, handing him a strip of leather. He puts it in his mouth, biting down on it.

She takes a flashlight, putting it in her mouth aiming it at his wound. She heads in with the surgical plyers. He jerks, grunting, even holding back a yell.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She tells him, holding back tears.

As she enters deeper, she doesn’t feel anything.

He turns his head, working through the pain as he continues to writhe in pain.

“Jay, I don’t feel anything.” She says.

He spits out the leather. “Keep looking, get it out of me.” He shouts. She nods. Grabbing the leather, putting it back in his mouth for him. He bites down on it hard. Letting out a yell of pain.

She kept going till she felt something hard. She clamps down on it, and begins to slowly pull it out.

“I think I got it.” she says. Pulling out of his wound, revealing a bullet. “Got it.” she says with a sigh, panting a bit. Getting worked up and anxious.

He spits out he leather once again. “Fantastic.” He pants.

“Okay, from the looks of it, no artery was severed, so I’m gonna stitch you up really quick.” She says.

Grabbing the kit, some thread she begins to patch him up like she did before.

Jensen was out of it the whole time. In and out of consciousness as she stitched him up.

Once done she coaxed him awake. He weakly opened his eyes.

“We need to get you to a bed to heal, the couch is no place for it.” she says.

Not arguing it, he nods and gets up. Only to wince, and jerk back down on the couch. Clutching his side.

“I’ll help, try to keep your torso straight.” She advised. Taking his hand, she helps pull him up to his feet. Letting him lean against her as she helped him to a bed, just down a short hall from the living room.

She takes off his shirt, pants and boots. Leaving him in boxers and socks. She put a large bandage on  his wound to keep it protected, prevent it from getting infected as best as she could.

 As the day wore on, she could still hear the battle rage on down the road. All she could do was shake her head.

We should all band together, unite, not fight. She thought.

She stayed up the whole night, keeping watch.

 One day, turned to three, she noticed Jensen wasn’t getting better.

She changed his bandage. Seeing it red, it was infected. She had used the antiseptic from earlier, but now they’re out, when she checked their packs.

“Shit.” She says.

Jensen, stayed asleep. His body fighting.

She noticed his color never came back. She placed a careful hand on his forehead.

He’s burning up.

I got to get him antibiotics, fast. She thought.

 TO BE CONTINUED…

~

Jensen Tag list:

@luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @mlovesstories​, @salt-n-burn-em-all​, @moonlight-on-her-skin​, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 10/19/2020

[percywinchester27]

About a boy (Part-13)

Word count: 3.7K

Warning: Suspense, feels, physical abuse, child-trafficking, kidnapping, child-violence, bullying, angst, this gets really really dark, rest of the warnings in the tags.

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: Please pay attention to the tags if you have triggers. Also, things get better after this!

Kudos to the lovliest @deanssweetheart23​​​​​​​​ for beta reading this story <3

About a boy masterlist

The adrenaline had taken over his body. That was the only explanation for how Dean could even remotely function with this sort of efficiency, let alone calmth. The first part of the plan had played out without a hitch. It had been easy to walk out of the Orphanage with Andy gone. They had walked too fast- almost sprinted- all the way till the edge of the town and it had taken Dean all of five minutes to fuse the wires and have the first car they saw running. It was an old Toyota XUV, stick shift, but nothing Dean hadn’t handled before.

So they had set out into the night. Dean in the driver's seat and Cas in the shotgun. Behind, Gabriel and Benny were sitting on either sides with Michael wedged between them. Gabriel had insisted on tying Michael’s hands behind his back. Dean couldn’t care less. It wasn’t like Michael was going to try anything funny. All he could do was point out directions when Dean was about to make turns and furtively steal looks at Cas who was sitting as passively as a stone besides Dean. 

Dean knew Cas was distraught. Everything that Cas had believed in had been shattered in front of his eyes. Moreover, somewhere deep down he was wallowing in guilt that countless others had been sacrificed while he enjoyed his privileged safety. Both he and Gabriel must be feeling it. Dean should have been feeling something, too. Sadness, empathy… something for his friend. But in reality, he was feeling nothing except a haunting and all encompassing numbness.

His brain was processing Michael’s instructions, and his muscles were responding accordingly, steering the wheel in the right direction, but that’s all. Somewhere he knew that this odd disembodiment wouldn’t last, that it was his body’s defense mechanism to save him from the overloading of emotions and crippling fear each time he thought of Will. So he just didn’t. He didn’t think about anything except getting to the damned warehouse. Because, he knew if he waited long enough, allowed himself to feel, he’d be folded on the floor, paralysed in terror at the prospect of what might be. 

If the numbness was the only thing keeping him upright and functioning, then so be it. Dean welcomed it.

“Take the second left and drive until the end of the road,” Michael said quietly. “That’s where the barn-house is. Turn off the headlights when you hit the country road. They have guards watching.”

There was a rough grunt from behind and Benny made a disapproving sound. “Stop hitting him,” Benny said. 

“This is not about you, Lafitte,” Gabriel hissed. “This son of a bitch rode his high horse all these years and ruled the fucking place like he was some sort of king. All the while he was letting all those boys get bloodied and cut open and sold.”

Despite himself, a shudder overcame Dean, and he could feel a tiny crack in his numbness.

There was another hit.

“Stop hitting him, Gabe.” It was the first time Cas had spoken since they had left the orphanage.

Gabriel made an incredulous sound. “You of all people are saying this, Cas? You? Don’t tell me this bastard doesn’t deserve it!”

Cas shook his head. He looked haunted and his voice was dry, parched even. “You aren’t really angry at him. You’re angry at yourself. You’re angry because you always suspected that something wasn’t right with this place, that Andy was abusing his power. You always doubted that the privilege that came with being from Michael’s orphanage came at the cost of something horrible that he knew about, that he was a part of. You knew it in your gut and you ignored it. Overlooked it. Because confronting Michael would have meant giving up your freedom and comforts which you were so used to, which you loved. Don’t kid yourself by thinking that you’re angry with Michael. You’re angry with yourself. Angry and feeling guilty because you could have easily been one of those kids but you aren’t. You are safe and sound while some poor kid died instead of you.”

His words were followed by silence. An uncomfortable, too deep silence.

Dean looked over at Cas who was still glaring straight ahead into the night, eyes completely dry now. When he spoke next, his voice was softer, more like the Cas Dean knew and cared for.

“Gabe,” Cas said, “I know how you’re feeling. But now is not the time for it. You can’t let it get to you, can’t let the anger overpower you when you need to think straight. You have to get a grip on yourself because we need to save those boys.”

“You’re right,” Gabriel sighed. “I’m sorry.” And Dean could hear the crushing guilt there along with severe self-loathing. 

How had he never seen this? All those weeks and months spent in the same room, he had never suspected that Gabriel’s outlandish, extravagant behaviour could be a direct sign of him acting out… because he felt miserable inside.

“It’s okay, man!” Benny said quietly. “Nobody is holding anything against you. Ain’t that right, Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Besides,” Benny continued, “We’re here.”

The grey outline of the building was visible even from a couple hundred yards away. Yellow lights pouring out of the windows lent a sinister glow to the structure. 

Dean cut the engine and climbed out of the car, everyone followed suit. 

“Okay, here’s what we do,” he said. “Cas and I will try to get in from the front door. Gabriel, is there anyway that you can cause a distraction?”

“Distraction is my middle name,” Gabriel said with a small tilt to his mouth. He reached out into his pockets and casually removed what looked like detonators. “You say it, I got it!”

“Benny, I need you to go out back and see if there’s another entrance there. It seems likely.”

“Alright,” Benny said, bending to buckle his shoes.

“What about me?” Michael who was staring defiantly at him. At least as defiantly as one could, with their bound hands trussing up the shoulders awkwardly.

“Oh, you’re staying in the car,” Gabriel said, jerking him back in.

“You can’t do this to me!” he protested

Gabriel smirked bitterly as he pushed Michael inside and shut the car door to his face. “We can and we will.”

There was no point in discussing the nuances of the plan. Each minute spent standing was a minute wasted, a minute more of Will’s life in danger. 

Dean signaled and all of them made a move, hurrying as stealthily as they could along the tall outgrowth that ruled most of the property. At the very edge of it, with a single nod, Benny split from them and sprinted towards the south. Gabriel too gave a sly grin, eyes full of his usual mischief. He saluted once and headed in the opposite direction from Benny.

With bated breath, Dean listened carefully for anything that was unusual. He wasn’t sure what Gabriel’s detonator was supposed to do, but it had to be something noticeable. 

Cas was squinting into the darkness, trying to make sense of what lay ahead of them. It was hard to tell, but from the light that filtered out of the ghastly grey windows, they could make out the shapes of about five men. Two of them were guarding the entrance and three were making patrol rounds. All of them wielded guns.

Dean felt a shooting fear for Benny who was out there by himself and even Gabriel. They were both unarmed and alone. If anything happened to them… on Dean’s watch…

A sudden, brilliant light lit up the night followed by a loud blast far along the western edge. All of the five men abandoned their post and hurried towards the commotion. 

“Where the hell does he even get those things?” Cas muttered next to Dean.

They waited for a few more minutes then crept further ahead. They were right in front of the warehouse now with just a few thinly spaced trees in between and a line of cars. There would be no hiding now. 

“C’mon,” Dean said and they made a beeline for the car closest to the building and ducked behind it. The guards at the door had been replaced by two more and from inside the warehouse, a couple more were hurrying to join the others who had rushed to find the source of the blast. 

When enough time had passed for Dean to be sure that no one else was coming out from inside, he gestured to Cas and they dived at the two guards. It was crucial for it to be a surprise attack or else they were going to start firing guns and alert everyone. It started out well when Dean jumped on top of the sturdier looking man, knocking the gun right out of his hand; but the other guard was quicker. He grabbed Cas’s hand and twisted it around till there was an audible crack and Cas went down with a yelp. The man standing over him hit Cas with the blunt end of his gun and then turned it around to aim the barrel at Cas’s face.

Before Dean could even register what was happening, there was a guttural cry and a fist landed on the guards neck, who immediately crumpled next to Cas. Dean noted Michael’s face in the flurry of movement but his instincts led him to kick the guy he was holding down and then land a blow to his neck. He slumped down as well.

“You were in the car!” Dean scowled. “How did you get out?”

Michael bent down to check on Cas. “No thanks to you, asshole,” he said. “I’ve spent my whole life being kicked out and pushed into sinkholes. You think a leather cord around my wrists and a locked car was going to stop me?”

Dean did not retort. He was worried for his friend. Cas looked faint and in a lot of pain. He had sustained not one but two blows to his head tonight, and from the looks of it, his wrist was broken. Even then, he shrugged out of Michael’s grasp.

“You should hurry, Dean,” Cas said through gritted teeth. His face was beaded with sweat and he looked ready to pass out.

Ordinarily, Dean would have never trusted Michael with anything, but when it came to Cas, there wasn’t much Michael wouldn’t do. Hadn’t that already been proven in the most horrible way possible already?

“Michael,” Dean barked. “You stay with Cas. He’s in no shape to go anywhere. Help him over to the edge of the outgrowth. He should be well hidden from view. I don’t care about what happens to you, but we both care about Cas. Protect him!”

Cas protested vaguely and Dean knew he would be mad about this later, but right now it was the right thing to do.

Fortunately, Michael didn’t waste any time in coming up with a comeback. He hauled Cas’s good arm over his shoulder, and led them both out the clearing. 

This was it. Dean bent down and grabbed the weapons lying around. He tucked the smaller gun into the waistline of his jeans and held the rifle in his hands, then, he dove into the warehouse.

The inside reminded him of the west wing. It was just as dirty and stank of old blood. He shuddered as he made his way into the interiors. There were noises to follow and an obviously well used corridor leading towards them. Dean followed it as carefully as he could, keeping his eyes and ears open should there be any more of the henchmen around. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out that the noise was a decoy and then head straight inside.

His ears picked up the distinct sound of careful footsteps around the corner and Dean raised the rifle as he made the bend, poking it into the person who emerged from the other side.

“What the hell, Winchester!” Gabriel hissed. “Why’re you trying to kill me?”

He wasn’t alone. Next to him Benny was trying to keep a straight face at Gabriel’s panicked expression. Even being in a murder building with weapon wielding mercenaries couldn’t faze Benny all that much.

“Here!” Dean handed Gabriel the other gun. “Hold on to this. Nice work with the fireworks out there.”

“It’s like the 4th of July, baby,” Gabriel said. “Ran into Lafitte out back. The dumb guards there abandoned their post without waiting for backups. Where’s Cas?”

Dean quickly explained what had happened in a low voice. He could tell that neither of them were happy about Michael being with him, though nothing could be done about it.

“We figured out the surgery rooms from the backside,” Benny said. “They’re this way. C’mon!”

Dean followed their lead, watching the rear end. Benny wasn’t wrong, the operation rooms were right there. But they weren’t anything like the ones in hospitals. They were dirty and grimy; disgustingly so. The walls were bathed in old, brown blood and the floor was caked in it. It looked more like the underground torture chambers in gore movies than anything else. Dean felt a chill run down his spine. The stench made him want to barf.

Benny came to a halt ahead of them. “Dean,” he said in a muted voice. 

It felt like a deja vu from when he had found the holding cells in the left wing as Dean walked by him and looked into the room. Inside, in the middle of the room, next to a trolley of bloody and rusted instruments was a stretcher. Resting on the stretcher with his brown hair drenched in blood was Barry. With each step that Dean took, he could see more of it. The blunt incision at the side of his stomach, roughly sutured, and the bloody cloth draping his body from his stomach down. There was blood everywhere on the floor. Bright and fresh.

Dean reached out to touch his face. 

“Barry?” he whispered. The voice didn’t sound anything like his own. It was empty and echoed around the room.

Barry’s half open eyes stared at nothing. Dean reached out with shivering fingers and closed them shut. Then, he collapsed to the floor, face in his hands.

“Dean, Dean!” 

The voices over him were coming from a distance. It seemed unreal. All of it.

A hand gripped his shoulders.

“I had assured him that I would come back for him. And now he’s… he’s… “

Another pair of hands seized him by his arms and shook him violently. “Snap out of it, damn it!”

“But he’s dead!” Dean pointed out, unable to move more than a finger. “Look at him. He’s dead.”

“I know,” Benny whispered urgently. “And he won’t be the only one if you don’t move.”

“Think about Will,” Gabriel said, his voice subdued. Dean looked up to see that he was crying. “Will needs you.”

Dean got up on his knees; his whole body was shaking. He didn’t want to think about it, but if Barry was dead…

“No!” he said out loud. “Will is alright. We’re going to find him.”

“Yeah, that’s my boy,” Benny huffed, hoisting Dean off of the floor, and edging him out of the door. They reached the end of the hall and to the last door. The scene that met his eyes was beyond horrifying. Someone small lay on a raised platform and a man in a white apron was bent over it. Two others were standing around assisting him. Andy and a dark haired man in an expensive looking suit were standing at the edge of the room. The man’s face betrayed no expression. He was simply overlooking what was happening with a passive look. Andy on the other hand looked revolted. 

Dean leaned over just a little further to get a clearer view. Just enough to see the face of the figure laying on the platform. It was Will.

He didn’t know what came over him, but one minute Dean was standing at the edge of the door, the next he was bounding into the room, thrashing left and right at any obstruction he could see to get to Will. Again, the shock of it all was on his side. Before any of them could react, the two assistants were down on the floor. 

Andy started into action. “What the-” Before he could finish his sentence, Benny had jumped on him, hand to the throat. All of a sudden the room burst into a flurry of action as the dark haired man whipped out a pistol and took shots in the air.

Out of pure impulse, Dean threw himself in between the man and the platform, shielding Will with his own body. But there was more shooting, and more men poured into the room. At first Dean felt a surge of defeat, assuming them to be the henchmen, but as more and more of them came in, he realised they were uniformed police officers. He turned to face Will, completely blocking out the chaos behind him.

Will lay on his stomach, his face turned to the side and his eyes closed. He could have been only sleeping if it wasn’t for the long cut at his side. The dirty cloth under him was soaked in his blood. His hair was falling over his eyes and the tiny mole on the left side of his nose. It was really small, and Will had a habit of scratching it when he was nervous. Dean reached out to brush away the hair, leaving a bloody trail on his skin. He looked at his own hands to find they were blood smeared. In fact most of him was, after he had slid into Barry’s blood. 

A logical part of him knew what he should do; check for the pulse, but he simply stood there, not taking his eyes off Will’s face.

“Dean.”

The voice came from behind him and it was unexpectedly soft. He felt warm arms envelop him, felt a brush of lips against his temple.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Jody said, sounding heady with relief. 

“Jody,” Dean sniffled, and he realised he was crying. “Will.... Will!”

“He’s alive,” she said. “Look, he is breathing.”

Even as Dean turned, to ascertain for himself, a group of EMTs blocked most of his view. He watched one of them tape the wound close and the others gently lifting him on to a gurney. Then they were taking him away.

Dean struggled against Jody, yanking free of her hold to follow them, but she held on tight.

“I need to go with him,” he shouted. “Let go!”

“Only family can ride with the ambulance, Dean,” she said sympathetically. 

“But I need to be with him!”

“And you will be.” Jody let go of him then. “C’mon. You’ll ride with me.”

Most of the drive to the hospital was a blur. Jody told him about how the Orphanage was a middle house for the kids. And at the very minute that they were driving, it was being raided by the police for evidence. The suited man was Jacob Styne, and the warehouse had enough paper evidence to convict the whole Styne brood. They had taken into custody everyone present including Andy.

He barely paid attention to any of it, except what was happening to his friends. Cas was being driven to the hospital as well, so were Benny and Gabriel, where after ascertaining their well-being the police would record their statements. 

By the time they reached the ER, Will had already been taken into the Operation Theater. There was nothing to be done except wait. At some point Dean felt the seat next to him dip and looked up to see Bobby beside him. He flung an arm over Dean’s shoulder, holding close, grounding him to reality. No words were spoken, but Dean was comforted in a way that only a father could.

When Jody came back, she looked worried. Dean got to his feet immediately.

“How’s he?”

She bit her lip. “They didn’t take out his kidney. You got there just in time… But, I don’t want to lie to you, Dean. He’s lost a lot of blood and the doctor is worried.”

“So get them to pump him up with more blood,” Bobby said, speaking for the first time.

Jody’s brow furrowed. “It’s not that easy, he has a rare blood group-”

“Let me help!” Dean said suddenly. “I can give him my blood. We have the same blood group!”

“What?”

“Jody,” Dean said, hurriedly. “Michael said that they were saving Will because he has a rare blood group, AB negative. That’s the same as mine. Ask them to take mine. As much as they need.”

Jody’s eyes rounded in worry, but she didn’t question Dean over it, and went to speak with the doctor. 

Soon, Dean was put onto a bed. They first tested him, and then when it was confirmed that it was indeed, miraculously the same blood group, they hooked him up to a tube. It was killing Dean to just lie there watching the blood drain. Everyone should be hurrying, they all should be concentrating on saving Will. But it was a hospital. Every patient was just the same to them. And Will was an orphan at that.

The seconds bled into minutes and then excruciating hours as Dean waited. He was aware when Benny and Gabriel came in, quietly sitting besides him and Bobby, just waiting for the doctor to come out. When she did, all of them stood up at once. 

The doctor lowered her mask and gave them a tentative smile. Then she said the words that actually let Dean breathe again. 

“He’ll be alright,” the doctor said. “He just needs to rest.”

Dean sat down on the chair again. The relief had knocked out any and all strength that had been holding him up. There were hoots of exultation all around him, but Dean simply let the words seep into his heart. 

Will was alright. He was going to be alright.

*******************************

A/N 2: Things will get better after this, trust me! two more chapters to go! (Plus and epilogue)

Please do tell me what you thought of the chapter? I live for comments!

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[hanawrites404]

Part 3

"Des-pa-ci-to, na na na na na na na na na Burrito, pa ta pa pa ra pa pa na ra Secco, na na na na ta ra ta ta ta ta Procciotto~ Mmm...I love this song".

"Give me a break" Jotaro said, and his prayers were answered because the radio started to get all distorted.

"What the??" Noriko got disappointed and sulked as her song got ruined. Jotaro was smiling to himself from the inside, but the happiness didn't last for long when the car abruptly stopped in the middle of the road.

"The hell??" Mr. Kujo tried to start the engine again and again, but it didn't respond back.

"W-What happened??" Noriko asked him. "Don't know. I need to check the engine".

As soon as he said that sentence, on fat drop of water fell on the window with a thud, and it was soon followed by many and eventually it had started to rain cats and dogs.

"Fan-fucking-tastic" Jotaro remarked sarcastically as he slapped the steering wheel from frustration.

Jotaro noticed how Noriko was silent the whole time. He took a glance at Noriko and found her mumbling something to herself. She then rubs her chin, looks back from her seat and then opens her seatbelt and starts to get off the car.

"Wait, where are you going??" Jotaro took hold of her wrist to stop her. "Checking the engine. Why??". "Let me do that. You stay inside". "No, let me go" she struggles to get her hand out of Jotaro's grasp.

"Fine. Do what you want to" he then lets go of her wrist.

Noriko smiles and opens the door, but it wasn't even budging. She looks at Jotaro who shows her the car keys, which means that she won't be able to get out as he had locked all the doors automatically.

She glares at Jotaro and tries to get the keys from him, but he kept it inside his pant pocket, making it out of reach.

"Ha!! I don't need keys to get out" she smirks. She then goes to the driver's seat and does something down the steering wheel and the door opens with a click.

Now let's ignore the fact that Noriko had her boob pressed on Jotaro's knee when she was unlocking the door, shall we??

"How did you do that??" Jotaro asked her and Noriko just smiles and winks at him.

She then gets off and naturally the rain started to drip intensely on her. But ignoring all the awful wetness, she opens the front of the car and starts rummaging through the car parts, being careful not to disturb the other components.

Jotaro had gotten off too but he had an umbrella with him. He observed how Noriko was concentrating on her work and was not getting distracted by the cold rain.

Her whole attire was wet and Jotaro could see her small figure as her clothes clinged onto her body. He also noticed how the little girl was shivering from the cold, but still she was focused.

Her hair had turn darker due to the water and her hair waves had been straightened up, making her hair look longer.

The only thing which was intact was where her eyes and hands were and how her lips were slightly opened in order to take air in and out and also vibrating a little due to the cold.

However, her bangs were continuously disturbing her as they dropped on her face frequently. She always pulled them back but they kept falling on her face, hiding her vision.

To add some ease to the already struggling lady, Jotaro brushes her hair gently behind her ear.

Noriko looked at the owner of the hand with a slight hint of longing for a second and then continues her work. Jotaro's heart skipped a beat when the girl locked her amethyst eyes with his.

He was now truly in love with her, just like how he fell in love with his highschool sweetheart.

"Oh.....so the battery is dead" Noriko came to the conclusion. "Is that so?? Let me call the service center then" he was about to grab his phone.

"No wait" she stops him. She then looks around and sees a bus stand which was lit up.

"Perfect!!" she exclaimed. She then gets out the battery of the car.

"Do you have the battery charger??" She asks Jotaro. "Yes, I have it in the back". "Get it, quick".

Jotaro gives it to her and she then connects it to the battery. She then bites the other side of the wire's coating so that she could connect it with the bus stand's source.

"Pick the battery up and come with me" she orders him, and Jotaro picks up the battery and follows the girl.

The girl gets up the stand and rummages to find the wires which were connected to the source, and luckily she found it in no time. She then disconnects the wires and the bus stand's light goes off.

She then connects the wires of the charger to the source. It took her a minute, but after she was done, Jotaro was surprised to see that the car battery had started charging now.

Noriko grinned at her work and got off. She then casually goes and sits on the seat of the stand and looks up at the dark rainy sky while humming to herself.

"How do you know all of this??" Jotaro asked her with wonder.

"I worked as a mechanic at one of my part-time jobs, so I know the basics. Also, I want to become a mechanical engineer when I grow up" she told him.

"When I was a kid, I used to have a dream where I make a flying car which would be better than any vehicle which ever existed. It would be like a vision of the future" Noriko told him.

"That's great" Jotaro said. Noriko smiles at him. She then asks him "What about you Jotaro-san?? Why did you became a marine biologist??" Noriko kept her face on her palms.

"It's......a very long story" Jotaro told her. "I'm listening. We have a lot of time anyway. The battery will take only half an hour to charge, and I think Jolyne wouldn't mind us being a bit late" she told him.

"Fine.......I used to have these dreams........where I am standing in front of an aquarium and a plethora of marine species appear in front of my eyes. There were fishes, shrimps, corals and what-not.

But the most intriguing part was how my younger self and my lover were inside there too, and we were in each other's arms as we stared longingly at each other and went deeper and deeper into the waters.

Although the creatures of the dreams were always different in every dream, two things were common in it. One was us and second was how we pressed our lips against each other's as we submerged deep into the vast sea at the end of the dream".

"Wow, now that's very......poetic" Noriko was amazed.

"So was she your wife??" She asked next.

Jotaro shook his head no.

Noriko's eyes widen a bit, she then moved closer to him and asked him with curiosity.

"Who was she then?? Tell me!!" She asked like an excited baby.

"It's a he, Noriko". "A he??" Noriko raised her eyebrows, and Jotaro slowly nodded.

"Y-You mean, you are gay??". "I cannot really say. It was.........something that I had never expected from myself.

When I was of your age, I was not interested in girls as they were all annoying, and I usually got into fights with the boys.

He was a transferred student by the way, and our first time meeting each other was not pleasant at all, but I didn't know that eventually we would become so close to each other that we would be afraid to lose one another, and also that his death would still haunt me" Jotaro started to rub his eyes.

"Wait, he is dead?? What happened to him??" Noriko asked him. "I......He got a very fatal wound which literally passed through his stomach.....And I was not there for him at that time...........And he was only 17.........."

Jotaro's voice cracked at the last sentence as he had started to sob over his lover's memories. He covered his eyes with his hand but the tears weren't stopping at all.

Noriko's heart broke on watching the professor crying like this. She then moved more closer to Jotaro and hugged the man. She then started to rub his shoulder and back as she whispered sweet nothings in his ear to soothe him. Fortunately, Noriko was successful in comforting Jotaro for a bit as he stopped crying.

"I.....I'm sorry. I got a bit carried away" he wiped his eyes. "It's alright......I know how it feels to lose someone dear to you" she admitted.

"And you know what's the worst part?? I can never find peace ever again in my life after his death" Jotaro continued. "What do you mean??" Noriko asked.

"I got married and Jolyne was born. I was hoping to find love once more and have a normal family by my side, but it didn't work well. My profession had distanced me away from my family, and I had began to barely give any time to them.

I am also a target to one of the most dangerous people, and I don't want my family to be one of the targets because of me. That's why I got a divorce from my wife, and Jolyne now has an incomplete family.........".

"Yeah.....she had told me about the divorce. But I didn't know that you had left your wife because you wanted her to be safe"

Noriko then holds his hand and caresses it with her smaller ones.

She then smiles to herself and says "You are a very good person Jotaro-san. There is no way one can call you unjust or crude".

"The time when you offered to come with me to the hostel, I had already got an impression that you cared for me even though it had been only minutes since we met.

And the time when you defended me from that perverted manager, I got to know that you didn't like evil even a single bit, and that you protect weaker people if they are in trouble. Now that's a trait I love in a man" she told him.

Jotaro's cheeks got heated up and he looked away from her. Noriko chuckled as she spoke next.

"Not to sound creepy and all but, if only I was a bit older, I would have loved to marry you" she grinned.

Jotaro's blush worsened. He desperately tried to hide his face by hiding in his hat, but the red girl was smart, as she removed his hat and cupped his face. She then turned his head towards herself and pecked him on his cheek.

"A small thank you, for everything" she said and caressed on of the curls of his black hair. Now Jotaro was helpless, he cannot hide his flustered face now as it was fully exposed to the red lady.

She chuckled at the cute expression of the professor. Their relationship had now evolved from formal to informal from the very time Noriko kissed the man.

Noriko didn't regret it and Jotaro pretty much enjoyed it to the most. Speaking in a nutshell, both of their intimacy just went to the next level.

"Well, I think 30 minutes have passed now. Let's go home" she then lets go of Jotaro and goes to disconnect the battery.

Jotaro touches the cheek where the girl had kissed him. It reminded him of his lover's sneaky kisses which he used to give while he was sleeping or when no one was looking.

He also remembers how he used to hit him in the head for that and it pained the red head for the whole day.

*10 minute time skip, brought to you by Cock-yo-ween*

Both of them had now successfully reached home. They then got off the car, grabbed the dinner and rang the doorbell of the door.

Jolyne was quick to open the door. She then asked "What took you two so long. Do you even realise that it's 11 now??".

"Sorry, we had some problems with the car. The battery had died so we had to charge it" Noriko replied as they both entered the house.

"Alright. And what about the manager?? Did you kick his ass??" Jolyne asked.

"Ummmmm.....About that....."

"I had taken care of him for her".

Noriko looked at Jotaro with a bit astonishment. "Wait, you did?? For me??". "Yes. I wanted to--"

"Jotaro-san!!! Not fair!!" She then punches him in the chest and goes away in the kitchen to keep the food.

Jotaro then facepalms and mumbles "Ugh, give me a break". He literally saved her from harassment, and this is how she repays??

"Jotaro-san~ Huh Dad??" Jolyne was next to tease him. Jotaro blushed and looked away from his daughter.

"I-I just wanted her to drop the formalities with me" he defended. "Oh is that so?? Then what's that on your right cheek??" She asked.

Jotaro touched the area where she was talking about and felt something silky and slippery. He then looked at his hand and found a red substance which smelled like cherries.

"You might be wondering what the hell is this?? Well this is cherry lip gloss, and Noriko is the only one I know who puts it and she was with you the whole time, wasn't she??" She crossed her arms.

Jotaro was busted. What he feared the most has now happened. He braced for the harsh impact and was expecting Jolyne to shout at him, but all he got was his daughter speaking to him in a soft manner while holding his shoulder.

"You love her, don't you??" She asked her father.

Jotaro did not look into her eyes. Though her suspicions were correct, he was afraid to agree with her as he thought that it might lead to certain unfavorable consequences. He would have not given a shit to anyone else but this is his own daughter we are talking about right now.

"Dad, please tell me. I'm not going to judge you or anything" she assured him. He then finally nodded without saying anything else.

Jolyne was silent for a moment, processing everything in her brain. After some seconds, she lightly chuckled to herself.

"Honestly, it's not surprising to me. She really is an attractive individual. Not to mention, she really looks like your lover, uncle Noriaki".

Jotaro shot his eyes up at her face when he heard that name. So she knew it the whole time??

"Dad.....you have gone through a lot and you deserve to be happy. If being with Noriko does the trick then so be it. Although I'm sad that Mom was not enough for you, but it's alright. All uncle Noriaki wanted after his death was you to be happy, so do it at least for him".

"B-But what about--". "Age gap?? Are you really worrying about that?? You are Dr. Kujo!! The big, bad professor who doesn't give a fuck to anyone and won't hesitate to kick bones and break ass" she winked.

The alternation she had done to her sentence seemed to make Jotaro chuckle a bit.

"And also, remember how great-gramps married great-aunt Tomoko when she was way younger than him??".

"Don't compare me to that old man" his said grimly. "Alright, sorry. But you do get my point right?? Tonight, you are going to give it to her hard" she punched his shoulder motivatively.

"Give me what??" Noriko came out of the kitchen to see what was going on.

"O-Oh it's nothing Noriko" she grins innocently at her while keeping her hands behind her.

Noriko shrugs and then calls both of them to have dinner as it has been reheated.

"Oh great. I was starving anyway" Jolyne went to the dining room.

"Jotaro-san, come on". "Yes, coming" and he too joined the girls for supper.

*Time skip till bed time brought to you by the lazy author*

"I'm really sleepy now. It's good that I don't have to wake up early tomorrow and see Anderson's owl face" Jolyne yawned.

Noriko chuckled as she scratched her red head. "But that doesn't mean you are not going to study tomorrow. And do note that I am going to clench you hard".

"Yeah yeah I get you. It's better to get lectured by you instead of that excuse of a teacher".

"Oh come on, he is not that bad". "Oh he is very bad Noriko. Don't even ask me where he comes in my ultimate list of total bitches and assholes".

Both of the girls then laughed happily as they gossipped about school and many other things. Jotaro was happy to see both of them bond with each other.

It reminded him of when Noriaki used to tell him facts about everything he ever spotted on their way.

'Jotaro, did you know that Jaipur is also known as the Pink town??'

'Jotaro, did you know that Singapore is one of the greenest cities??'

'Jotaro, did you know that you have more than 100 million bacteria in our nose??'

Though it pissed him how he always acted like a nerd on a trip, he enjoyed listening to his factual rambling.

In turn, he too used to share some information on marine life he read in magazines and Noriaki listened to him patiently. A few kisses here and there were inevitable which made the session even more interesting.

"Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight Noriko" Jolyne then retired in her room after their night conversation was over.

After bidding Jolyne goodnight, Noriko turned to the man who had his eyes on her the whole time. She then calls out to him with a small blush on her cheeks.

"Jotaro" his name slipped from her lips like petals, and it turned him on. The taller man approached her slowly, eyeing her from top to bottom. He then caressed her rosy cheeks and cupped her face, their faces only inches away.

Noriko was looking directly into his ocean green eyes, loosing herself in those orbs. Jotaro had his eyes on her plump lips as pink as peaches. She could not hold on anymore, and so could not Jotaro himself.

Both of them finally pressed their lips together and it was as if two opposite ends of magnets finally met. The kiss was gentle at first, but then it got more passionate as he pulled her closer by her slim waist.

The smaller girl had wrapped her arms around the broad shoulders of her partner. She being way shorter than him had to stand on her tippy toes to reach his level.

Jotaro noticed how she was struggling, so he offered. "You want to do it in bed??".

Noriko blushed a deep red, but then nodded at him. Jotaro picked her up in bridal style and she held onto him. He then took her to his elegant bedroom.

Though is was a decorated simply, it was looking very exquisite. The floor was wooden and it creaked softly under Jotaro's steps.

The taller man laid down the smaller lady slowly and carefully on the bed as if she was made up of delicate glass. The girl stared longingly at the man hovering over her as she leaned up to kiss his lips.

(Part 4)

[voorheehees]

Just Being Nice

Lester Sinclair x Reader

1000+ words 

The inside of his truck looked like something ripped straight out of an i-spy book. With all the old bones, assorted bird’s heads, and collection of colorful bottle caps, there was no way you could focus on just one thing. Not to mention, the whole interior smelled of rot and tobacco and God only knows what else. You shifted your attention to him, the man behind the wheel who had picked you up a ways back. He was every backwoods redneck stereotype rolled into one dirty man. There was a large bowie knife tucked into his belt, a detail that you couldn’t possibly ignore. It would be a lie to say the whole situation didn’t put you at least a little on edge. But at this point, it was either ride to town in a strange car with this even stranger hillbilly, or sit back on the side of the road with your broken down car. 

“What did you say your name was again?” You asked. 

The driver looked to you and smiled, exposing a row of yellowed teeth. He resembled a wild animal, yet somehow charming, innocent.

“I didn’t. It’s Lester.” He replied in a heavy, scratchy southern accent. 

Your smile back was a bit uneasy, yet sincere. Although Lester was a... unique character, he also happened to be your knight in shining armor of the day.

****

‘Fuck.’ 

It was all your mind could think. Your car was parked helplessly by the side of the road, steam rising from it like a train, while fluid dripped menacingly below it. You didn’t know much about cars, but you knew that a leaking radiator was not something you could take care of alone. But there was no town nearby that you were aware of, and no cell service for you to call a tow truck. In some fit of frustration you kicked the front fender of your car, immediately regretting the action as you felt a surge of pain run through your foot.

You nearly began to weep when you saw a car heading in your direction, bringing a blizzard of dust with it. It looked as though fate was in your favor after all. Without sparing a second, you stepped out into the road, waving your arms above your head. You thought you must have looked pretty ridiculous, but at this point you didn’t care. The car began to slow down, proving your attempt to get the driver’s attention a success. Your joy was quickly snuffed out, however, when you finally got a good look at the vehicle. The first thing you noticed was the traces of blood that lingered on the front bumper of the truck, and you could see small tufts of fur and what could only be gut residue poking out of the grills. Then you noticed the smell, a smell that made you feel as though you would vomit right there on the side of the road. You were so distracted by the scene in front of you that you didn’t notice the man step out from the driver’s side door. 

“You lost?” He asked, startling you enough to emit a helpless yelp.

“N-no!” It came out louder than you had intended. “I mean yes, well, uh…”

The man raised his eyebrows at you expectantly as you attempted to form a coherent sentence. You took a deep breath and continued.

“It’s my radiator.” You pointed towards the open hood of your car, which was still puffing out a steady cloud of steam.

The man let out a long, shrill whistle.

“Well that don’t look good at all.” He said.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a mechanic, would you?” You asked, half jokingly.

The man removed his hat, revealing a head of messy, light brown hair. He ran his fingers through it, gaze not breaking from your damaged car.

“Afraid not-”

Your heart sunk, although it was the answer you expected.

“But I know a guy. There’s a town about twenty or so miles from here, I can give you a lift if you’d like.”

The offer was intimidating, and seemed rushed. This man, Lester, he didn’t know you at all. And you sure as hell didn’t know him. For all you knew, he could be a serial killer, and all that blood could be from people and not unfortunate deer as you had originally suspected. Which was why you were so shocked by the single shroud of trust in you, telling you that you should in fact get in the truck with this odd man, and that he would help you out. And somehow, it overpowered the rest of your internal thoughts that were screaming out at all the red flags. Perhaps this was due to the fact that you didn’t really have any other option, besides sitting by your car alone and waiting for a more “trustworthy” person to drive by. No way that was happening. 

“That would be great, thank you.” you said hesitantly.

The man grinned from ear to ear, obviously pleased with your answer. He made his way over to the passenger side door and opened it, giving a little arm gesture like he was imitating a chauffeur. 

“Hop in!”

That was about half an hour ago now, and it seemed as though the entire duration of your trip had been filled with Lester going on about how collecting roadkill not only put a good sum of money in his pocket from selling antlers and deer heads to nearby bars, but it also cut his food costs by a landslide. Although you found it humorous that a guy like him was talking about finances, you tuned out when he began talking about how “It’s good venison, once you pick out the gravel”. However, as the time increased, so did the apprehensive feeling in your gut.

“Um, Lester? Are we getting close?” 

You tried your best to not convey the ever growing fear in your tone. Lester was not convinced. He looked over to you with an expression you couldn’t exactly read. His brows knitted slightly, but he carried a somewhat phoney, or perhaps unsure smile. 

“It’s just around the bend. Je-Sus! Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna kill you.”

You couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances. For some reason, the strange attempt of reassurance was calming. 

“Good,” you said, “I really thought you were going to turn me into a hood ornament.”

Lester chuckled, then snorted. In that moment, you thought he was sort of cute. In a weird way. Like a possum, or a feral child. You realised that he had dimples on his cheeks, they were soft but still noticeable. Catching yourself staring, you quickly changed the subject. 

“So, what’s this town called again?” You questioned. 

“Ambrose.” He answered, his laughter winding down to a giggle.

“I’ve never even heard of it.” you said.

“It’s not much,” the driver began, “Just a tiny town, don’t even think it’s on maps. But it’s got a mechanic, Bo.”

“Bo..” you repeated, almost in a whisper. 

This time, it was Lester who looked you over. And yet it wasn’t in a perverted way, as was usually the case when he had beautiful people in his passenger seat. He admired how the afternoon sun cast across your figure like a painting. You turned to face him, offering an innocent, still somewhat guarded smile. Lester’s mouth went dry at the sight. He thought he could fall in love right then and there. 

Due to his distraction, he had to slam on the breaks rather harshly when you finally reached Ambrose. Or rather, just outside Ambrose. 

“Welp,” Lester said hoarsely, “here we are.”

He parked the truck and cut the engine.

“I hope you don’t mind me dropping you off here.”

“Oh no! You’ve done so much already I don’t mind at all.” You said.

Seconds, which seemed more like minutes passed, yet you didn’t exit the truck. The two of you sat awkwardly, quietly, each one trying to think of what to say. You glanced to Lester, who tapped anxiously on the steering wheel. With another deep breath, you gathered your wits and spoke.

“Thank you, Lester. Really.”

His face visibly went a shade or two more pink. He coughed slightly as you places a gentle hand on his arm.

“Oh,” he stammered, “Don’t mention it. I was just trying to be nice. Y’know, civic duties and shit.”

The words had to force themselves out past the lump in his throat as he watched you get out of the truck. 

“Well, bye.” You said finally, almost wishing that he might ask you to stay a bit longer. You knew it was a useless thought.

“Bye…” he replied.

You shut the door and began walking towards the town, your travel companion waiting in the parked truck, face twisted with concern. When you reached the “Welcome to Ambrose” sign, you stopped suddenly, turning to wave one final goodbye to Lester. You regretted judging him, as he turned out to be a really sweet man under all that dirt and animal blood. You mentally promised yourself that you would not do the same to the people you met in Ambrose, no matter what. Lester’s heart skipped a beat as you waved to him. He gave a subtle nod back to you, guilt weighing on him like a ton of bricks. He wanted to stop you, but what would he say? What could he say? ‘Don’t go to this place that I brought you to, you’ll get turned to wax’? Yeah right. You would not only run away from Ambrose, but from him as well. 

Unconsciously, he stroked the spot on his arm where you had touched him only moments earlier, a million scenarios running through his head. He could be a hero, he could run out there, grab you, kiss you. Then the two of you would drive the hell away from that place, with nothing but the small stash of money he kept in his glove compartment and each other. What a stupid thought.

He started his truck, which sputtered to life, truly showing its age and shape. Lester had never questioned what he did, never questioned his brother, Bo. Why now? He didn’t need to think hard to know the answer, for he already knew. Mother had always said he was a lover. He rolled down the window, letting the fresh air in and the stink of the interior out. As the crisp autumn wind blew onto his face, he wondered if Bo would let him visit the museum tomorrow. He just wanted to see you one last time.