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squiggledrop · 4 years

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Frayed Ends - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1: No Strings

Part 3: Tying the Knot

Summary: Strings Part 2 -- Spencer and Reader have a friends with benefits arrangement. The only problem is, they both have feelings for each other. After Reader ends things between the two of them they are both heartbroken, yearning in silence for the other.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: crying

Note: The third and final part will be up next Friday! Thank you so much to everyone who left kind feedback on No Strings and asked for a part 2

Spencer walked into the bullpen the next morning, his bloodshot eyes sulking into the deep bags that hung below. He wanted to stay home and just bury himself beneath a mountain of blankets, but he didn’t want to give you that too. He had given you everything. He poured his heart out for you, placing it into your hands, only for you to throw it away. He hated that you left, he hated that you ended things, and he hated that he would have to work with you every day, knowing there was nothing he could do but wallow in his hurt. But he didn’t hate you.

No matter how much he wanted to, he could never hate you. But he sure could hate himself.

He couldn’t let you know that, however. He couldn’t let you know how you destroyed him. How when you stormed out of his apartment less than six hours ago, you took all of him with you. He needed to be strong.

His plan was simple. Avoid you at all costs. It was easier said than done, however, considering your desks were across from one another. He slumped down into his desk chair, busying himself with paperwork, not daring to look up, no matter how much he was itching to spy on the glass doors.

You grasped onto Emily’s hand in the elevator, willing the tears that threatened to breach your waterline to stay at bay. She gave your shoulder a gentle nudge, silently asking if you were okay. Taking in a deep breath, you nodded, breathing out as the elevator doors opened.

You had made your choice and Spencer had made his. All you could do now was focus on your work, and try not to break down every five seconds like you had been doing all night.

When you walked into the bullpen, you saw Spencer hunched over his desk, not even sparing a glance up. You didn’t blame him. He had every right to be mad at you and hate you. You sighed, slowly making your way to your desk across from his.

You gripped the back of your chair, slowly pulling it out in an attempt to be as quiet as possible. After setting your bag down on the ground and pulling out some files, you granted yourself a moment to look at Spencer. His eyes were trained on the documents in front of him, never faltering from their vertical trajectory. He had a slight scowl on his face, his eyebrows scrunched and his lips pursed. You knew him, and you knew he was hurting. The pang of guilt rose in your chest, clawing its way around your throat. Its grip tightened, pushing the tears from behind your eyelids. You cleared your throat, hoping that it would mask the silent tears that trailed down your cheeks.

Upon hearing you, Spencer immediately looked up, only to be met with you avoiding his gaze. Your head was down, causing your hair to drape around your face, hiding it from him. He scoffed before aggressively shoving his chair back.

“Spen-,” you choked out at his abrupt movement. But, before you could finish, he had walked away, not even sparing a glance back at you. You sighed in defeat, wiping away the tears that burned your face. Fine, you thought to yourself, if he wants space, he can have space. He can have whatever he wants. The sad part of that was, you knew Spencer could have whatever he wants, and he had made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t you.

Spencer was bubbling with rage, fueled by the pain he was trying to quell. How dare you waltz in here and sit across from him as if nothing happened. You were the one who left. You were the one who said it was over. Spencer ran his hand across his face in frustration as he approached the kitchen. His feet faltered at the doorway, however, when he heard hushed voices coming from within.

“What’s up with (Y/l/n)?” Derek asked. Spencer felt his heart stop at the mention of your name. She broke my heart and wants to pretend that nothing happened is what’s up, he thought in spite.

“She said things ended with this guy she was seeing,” Emily said, sympathy lacing her voice. “She came to my place crying last night, and she didn’t stop until the car ride this morning”. A frown made its way across Spencer’s face at Emily’s hushed words. Despite how much pain he was feeling, it hurt, even more, to know you were upset. He still loved you, no matter how hard he tried not to. Spencer took a deep breath, finally walking into the kitchen.

“Hey kid, what’s up?” Derek asked, turning away from Emily.

“Coffee,” he smiled weakly, motioning towards the cupboard. Emily and Derek nodded as they began to make their way back to the bullpen.

“Did (Y/n) say who this idiot is?” Derek inquired, “Because if I need to go pay someone a visit, I will.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he grabbed a mug.

“No,” Emily replied with a shrug. “But she said she still loves him, so I don’t think a visit is necessary,” she smirked. Both Emily and Derek turned around, hearing a loud crash on the counter.

“Reid, you okay?” Emily asked. Both she and Derek looked at him with concern as his hands fumbled to pick up the mug.

“Y-yeah, um,” he said, placing it down on the counter, “w-what exactly did she say? A-about the guy-- the t-the guy she loves?” He looked at them with eager eyes, and he could feel his head buzzing.

“Not much else,” Emily sighed, slightly confused as to why Spencer was so interested. “She said she loves him but she can’t be with him, and she was really distraught so I didn’t want to push her any further.”

“Oh o-okay,” Spencer nodded, “thanks.” He brushed past both of them, hastily walking back to his desk.

“Your coffee…” Emily called out, but it was no use. Spencer’s head was spinning, and all he could hear were the thousands of thoughts consuming his mind. You loved him. You still love him. He wanted to run up to you and just kiss you. He wanted to forget everything and just hold you. But, one of the downsides of having an eidetic memory, is that he can’t just forget. He can’t forget the pain in your eyes when you told him you guys were over. He can’t forget the countless hours he spent crying over you, and apparently you him. He wants to be with you, but he doesn’t think he could handle another rejection.

He sits back down at his desk, causing you to look up. You open your mouth, about to say something, but you think better of it. You already put him through so much, and he doesn’t deserve to be strung along. It’s best that you just let him be.

The rest of the day drags on, both of you averting your eyes, trying your best to ignore the other. With every tick of the clock, the silence becomes less deafening. The chattering hum of the office slowly filling your senses. For a moment, you almost forget about the person on the other side of the desk. But just for a moment.

Out of habit, when something Spencer was reading reminded him of something he read in a journal last week, he looked up, wanting to share it with his best friend. You gasped, looking up at his sudden movement, the normalcy of it all washing over you. Spencer opened his mouth, but you could see the gears turning in his mind, as he remembered who he was looking at. His lips rejoined, forming a faint frown as you both sat there, looking into each other's eyes for the first time since you told him to try to forget you.

In the split second that you hold each other's gaze, all the emotions from the previous night come flooding back. You could still feel Spencer’s hands gripping your skin, his hot breath on your neck as he moaned that he loved you. But, you could also feel the anxiety coursing through your veins at the thought.

Spencer could still feel the way your thumb would brush against his cheek as he looked into your beautiful eyes. The sound of you moaning his name and how soft and warm your skin was still replayed in his head. Looking into your eyes, he could feel all of his love for you grow. But, with every ounce of love he felt, it was followed by a cascade of doubt and betrayal.

Just as palpable as the love between both of you was, the fear and pain pierced it just the same. The uncertainty of the moment held you both, stuck in between wanting to just let go and come together, but also wanting to run and hide. The dreadful reality being, that whether your hearts collide or grow further apart, they would still shatter nonetheless. You were two oppositely charged atoms, attracting one another. When you are apart, you are drawn together, the pull undeniable. But, when you get close enough, one of you will be ripped apart so the other can survive, and neither of you were prepared to do that to the other.

Quickly, you both looked down, dread and regret consuming you. Spencer got up to finally make himself a coffee, fearing he would burst out in tears if he stayed any longer. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t look at you and pretend that he’s fine. He knows you aren't either, but that doesn’t change anything. You were the one to tell him to forget about you. But what you didn’t understand was that he couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, trying to escape the reality of you in his life, he was only met with you clouding his dreams. You were everywhere, and even if he could, he’s not so sure he would want that to change.

Watching Spencer walk away for the second time today was too much. Once he was out of sight, already feeling tears trickle down your face, you wiped them away, heading straight for the bathroom. You closed the door behind you, locking it before you sunk to the ground. You gasped, trying to hold back the boulder of sobs that had been building in your throat throughout the day. You wished so badly that you could just give in. You wanted to fall into his arms. But you couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself constantly falling to the ground, choking back tears for a man you loved with your entire being. But he could never know that.

When Spencer makes it to the kitchen, he lets out an aggressive sigh, roughly turning on the coffee maker. His fingers grip the edge of the counter, the pain from his white knuckles a welcomed comfort from the pain that had been throbbing in his chest all day. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, letting his tears fall freely. When he opened them, he reached for the mug from earlier that still sat on the counter. With shaking hands, he picked it up, looking at it and letting out a pathetic whimper.

He rubbed his thumb across the slightly worn decal on it, and a weak smile graced his lips. You had gotten this mug for him a while back. The team was away on a case and the precinct only had paper coffee cups. After ten days working on that case and it still not being over, you had joked with him that he had probably deforested an entire country by that point. The next morning, you had walked in with a ceramic coffee cup, with the words ‘Best Grandma’ written on it. You had smiled, claiming it was the only one the pharmacy across from the hotel had in stock. Spencer smiled nonetheless, grateful you had thought about him. That night you two slept together for the first time, starting the whole arrangement.

Spencer admired the mug through glossy eyes, reminiscing on all of your memories together. Sure, you weren’t perfect, but to Spencer, you were the most beautiful, funny, and caring person he had ever met. He loved you. There was no denying that. He loved you, and he wanted his friend back. He would wait for you as long as it took, even if it was forever.

Placing the mug down on the counter, he grabbed a second one from the shelves, filling them both with coffee. He filled one with cream and a spoonful of brown sugar, just the way you like it, before filing his with a Spencer approved amount of sugar. He picked up both mugs, taking a deep breath before he walked back into the bullpen.

When he reached your desks, he noticed you were missing. He sat down, placing your mug on your desk. He nursed his drink, pretending to focus on paperwork as he waited for you to return.

After a few more minutes, he turned, hearing the door to the bathroom swing open. He watched as you slipped out. Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, he could see the red splotches that surrounded your bloodshot eyes.

You slid back into your desk chair, your eyes focused on the ground. At first, you didn’t notice the mug on your desk, but the smell of coffee slowly wafted over. Hesitantly, you looked up, seeing the cup of coffee. Spencer peaked above his mug, looking back down so you wouldn’t notice. You did, however. You noticed everything about him. A shy smile crept over half your face, and you picked up the mug, cradling it in both your hands. You brought it up to your lips, taking a small sip. Spencer did the same, both of you glancing at the other from behind your mugs. Although the other couldn’t tell, you both had a slight smile on your lips. You placed the mug back down, Spencer following suit.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the day, but it was a comfortable silence that fell over the two of you. The sound of your beating hearts mixed with the flipping of pages and the scrawling of pens, melding into the gentle buzz of the office that filled the room. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. You may no longer be tangled in each other, but you were closer than you were at the beginning of the day, and that was enough.

-----

tagging people who asked for a part 2: @bugg-zee

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imjustwritingg · 4 years

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you can hear it in the silence

This takes place after Jay gets shot and the hospital scene in season 7, loosely based on the song “You Are In Love” by Taylor Swift. I’ve had this stored away half-finished for quite a while and put a crazy spin on it after seeing a prompt on Twitter. It also seems pretty fitting that I finished this specific one on the same day that JLS’s interview came out where he politely disregarded Linstead and said Upstead rights. Enjoy and let me know what you think. 💜

Also here: AO3 & FanFic.Net

cause you can hear in the silence

you can feel it on the way home

you can see it with the lights out

you are in love, true love

you're in love

XXX

“I can’t figure him out. He’s the first one through the door, a war vet, and he’d rather take a bullet than get the flu shot.”

“It’s hard because you love him.”

“When you were in surgery, no one knew what was going to happen and it made me realize I wanted to tell you something.”

“What were you gonna say?”

Hailey has replayed those moments from the hospital every day in her head since they first happened. Vanessa had straight up called the blonde out on her feelings, that it wasn’t just about her partner, Jay Halstead, but everything else he had become over the last few years of he and Hailey working together. A trusted confidant. Her best friend. Someone she could depend on endlessly. The man she had fallen for without even realizing she was falling in the first place.

When Jay had been given the all-clear to go home Hailey had somehow found the courage to finally tell him about her feelings for him. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something else were to happen and she never got the chance to tell him the truth about how she really felt towards him. Her heart always seemed to ache in that way where she could barely breathe around him and she wanted nothing more than to admit her feelings and hope for the best.

The words had been there right on the tip of her tongue, but with one ring of his undercover phone she was pulled back to reality. The walls shot up around her heart again, made her second guess everything up to that point, and she retreated back into herself as if it were some twisted sign from the universe screaming at her, “no, don’t do it!”

Could she really tell him the truth? And should she? Or would it ruin their friendship and the partnership they’d nearly perfected over the time spent working together? She just wasn’t sure. All of these questions plagued her mind since that day, but she knew she couldn’t voice them out loud. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

XXX

Jay had returned to work a week after his release from the hospital, but he remained on strict desk duty. He was itching to get back out into the field, but Voight had made it clear that, that wasn’t happening until the sling was off his shoulder and he got explicit written permission from his doctor. So, he stayed in the bullpen, pushing paperwork and helping to find leads for his team however he could.

When he saw his partner and Burgess at Platt’s desk that night after his first shift back, he couldn’t help the pride he felt inside of him knowing what Hailey had done to capture the perp.

“I heard you made a nice disarm,” he says while looking at Hailey.

Her face immediately breaks out into a shy smile. “Oh man. You want details?”

“Yeah, I’m losing my mind,” he tells her.

“After six days?” Kim teases.

“After six minutes,” Jay emphasizes with a slight shake of his head.

Before the three of them can make a quick escape from the district, Platt calls out to Kim making her hang back. She says a quick goodbye to the duo, leaving Hailey and Jay to themselves. Hailey looks at her partner and nods to the door, and the pair make their way down the stairs towards the exit.

The bitter winds of Chicago’s winter season meet them eagerly as the pair exit the district. Hailey isn’t sure how it happens, but they end up nearly shoulder to shoulder as they walk down the sidewalk towards the parking lot. Each time they almost brush against one another she feels a rush of heat move through her body from the proximity alone. Trying to ignore her feelings was proving to be more and more difficult with each moment that passed between her and the man at her side.

“Beer and story-time at my place?” Jay suggests as they near the lot.

“Give me about an hour?” Hailey counters. She just needs a little bit of time to herself to try and clear her head.

“Sure. I’ll order food from that Greek place you like,” Jay says.

She smiles at him. “Sounds good. I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Jay gives her one of his grins, one that Hailey has come to realize is only ever used with her and one that should be considered illegal, and then the two go their separate ways.

XXX

Hailey’s nothing if not punctual. If she says an hour, she means an hour. So when there’s a light knock on Jay’s door thirty minutes after leaving his partner at the district, he’s a bit perplexed. He’s got a pep in his step though as he walks to the door, a grin plastered on his face, and ready to spend his night with Hailey.

“You said an hour. Food’s not here ye-,” his teasing tone fades out as he pulls open the door and he stands silent as he looks at the woman in front of him who most definitely is not his current partner.

“Hi Jay.”

“Erin.”

Every emotion a person could ever possibly feel is felt by Jay within seconds of each other as he stands in front of Erin Lindsay for the first time in almost four years. Her dark hair falls down past her shoulders in waves and she’s not dressed in some fancy pantsuit, but there’s still something about the way she stands with her hands clasped together in front of her that seems like she’s got things all figured out now.

All he can do is stare at the woman in front of him, as if he’s just seen a ghost. And maybe he has, as memories of their days spent together, both professionally and privately, overload his brain. It causes him to grip the door handle so tight his knuckles turn white.

“What are you doing here?” He finally gets out.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m here for work. Heard you went and got yourself shot again.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Hank tell ya that?”

Erin raises her eyebrows at him then and finds herself smirking at him. “First name basis with him now, eh?”

“You’re a little late. It’s been a few weeks since the shooting,” he says, ignoring her comment. His voice is strong and curt, the complete opposite of what it’d been mere moments before when he thought it was Hailey at his door.

“I was deep in a case. I didn’t know until about an hour ago when I talked to Hank on the phone,” she explains.

He just shakes his head at her. “Doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here, Erin?”

“He told me how bad it was. I was in town and I wanted to know that you were okay. Can I come in? Please?”

Jay stares at her for a moment, wanting to say no, but something inside of him doesn’t let him get the word out despite the whisper of a voice in the back of his head telling him it was a mistake. He lets out a long sigh and steps aside instead, opens the door fully, and allows her to enter. He closes the door behind her after she steps inside and the two of them stand across from each other in his living room. Jay leans back onto the top of his couch, his arm still in the sling and his other hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans while Erin stands off to the side with her hands in her jacket now.

“What could you possibly have to say to me after all this time that a phone call couldn’t do?”

“I know how I left things Jay. I know I hurt you and I know I’m probably an idiot for showing up like this after everything we’ve been through. I just wanted to see you and make sure you were okay.”

Jay scoffs at her, shaking his head. “After everything that happened? You mean when you left without saying a word to me or to anyone besides Hank? Or do you mean when I texted and called and left a dozen messages, and you didn’t have the decency to respond to a single one to let me know you were at least okay?”

The combination of the last few years of keeping it all locked up inside of him, then unloading it during therapy, and now seeing her in front of him like nothing ever happened pushes him over the edge. She really showed up, expecting years of anger and hurt and pain to be swept under the rug as if her leaving hadn’t destroyed him for a period of time.

Erin just stares back at him and doesn’t speak. Hearing the anger in his voice and seeing the pain of what she’d left behind in his eyes wasn’t something she had prepared herself for on her way over to his apartment. She takes in the lingering stain of almost healed bruises on his skin, the sling in which his arm rests. She’s beginning to think this was nothing, but a mistake. That the look in his eyes now is going to be another memory that haunts her.

Erin pulls her hands out of her pockets and takes a step forward. She doesn’t touch him, she won’t, but she needs to be closer to him, needs him to hear her words and look him directly in the eyes when she says them.

“I’m sorry, Jay.”

His eyes immediately close as he hears the words come out of her mouth. He hadn’t realized all this time that he was waiting for something from her. An explanation. An apology. Some sort of something that would make him feel some sort of relief or closure. Anything.

He opens his eyes a moment later when there’s another knock at his door and he thanks the heavens or the universe or whatever it is for the interruption.

He lets out a deep sigh as he walks to the door and when he pulls it open, he feels both relieved and panicked when he sees Hailey standing in front of him. It takes all of two seconds for her eyes to meet his and for a grin to appear on her face when she sees him. And then another two seconds later, her eyes find Erin standing behind him and her smile is gone. She glances between them, noticing the obvious tension that hangs in the air around them all now.

“Erin,” Hailey breathes out.

Erin offers a smile and a small wave. “Hey Hailey. Long time no see.”

“Yeah, it‘s been a minute. How ya been?” Hailey asks. It’s a poor attempt to be polite and make small talk, but she’s not dumb. She knows what she’s just walked in on and all she wants to do now is to turn around and leave and return home.

Erin shrugs. “Busy. Work has been crazy.”

Hailey nods then, not saying anything else and not wanting to continue the conversation. She knows exactly who Erin had been to Jay at one point, and seeing the woman who caused him so much pain and heartache causes Hailey to immediately be defensive and cautious.

“So um, rain check then? We’ll catch up another time,” Hailey says a second later, looking at Jay.

That was the last thing Jay wanted, but he nods anyway. He can tell she’s uncomfortable and he can’t exactly blame her. He’s not so comfortable himself.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells her.

Erin watches the two, a small knowing smile appearing on her face. She watches Jay as he watches Hailey, his eyes following the blonde as she walks away from him and down the hallway. The look on his face tells Erin everything she needs to know.

Jay only closes his apartment door when he hears the elevator doors chime open and sees Hailey step inside the elevator car. He turns back to Erin, running his free hand over the back of his head, while she leans against the back of his couch now with her arms crossed in front of her.

“How long has that been going on?”

He quirks an eyebrow at her. “How long has what been going on?"

Erin nods to the door, a smirk on her face now. “You and Hailey.”

“There’s nothing going on there. We’re just partners,” Jay tells her.

Erin nods, but the smirk doesn’t leave her face and despite everything, Jay still knows her well enough to know she isn’t gonna let it go. “You and I were just partners at one point too, ya know? We may not be in each other’s lives anymore, but I can still tell when you’re lying.”

“How long you in town for?” He asks her, ignoring her words.

She’s still smirking, but lets him deflect. “I head back to New York tomorrow afternoon.”

“You should go and see Voight before you leave. I’m sure he’d like to see you,” he tells her.

Erin nods, but doesn’t move. “You’re good, right? You’re okay?”

He knows she’s not only asking about the shooting, but everything else. His PTSD, his past, his life.

“I’m good Erin. I’m really good,” he assures her with a smile.

Erin nods again, looking down at the floor. When she raises her eyes back to his again he sees the tears and a look of realization in them.

“We won’t ever be friends again, will we?” Erin asks even though she already knows the answer.

“I don’t think we were ever really friends, Erin. Not really. You never let me in. I mean, really let me in. And I know I didn’t do the same with you either. Especially near the end. We both said and did things back then. We just didn’t work,” he says.

There is a sense of relief that overwhelms his senses as he says the words out loud, like he’s been needing to say them to her. And they sting like a slap to the face, but Erin gets it. She can’t hold any of it against him because he’s right. Things had been messy between them, to put it lightly. They both had their issues, together and apart, and they’d never quite learned how to deal with things. She knows he isn’t being vicious. He’s just being honest. He’s just being Jay.

“I wish things had been different for us. If I could go back and do it again, I would do it right,” Erin tells him, her voice sincere as she stands up straight and takes a step toward him.

“Can I at least hug you goodbye? We didn’t get that the last time I left,” she says quietly.

Jay nods and reaches for her with his good arm, wrapping it around her shoulders while Erin’s snake around his waist, careful of his sling. He gives her a squeeze and she does the same before the two separate, and Erin makes her way to the door. She pulls it open, but then turns around to face him one last time.

“If she doesn’t already know, you should tell Hailey how you feel,” Erin tells him.

He doesn’t try to play it off this time. He knows he’s been found out and he doesn’t have the energy to try and lie about it anymore, so he just shrugs.

“Not sure getting involved with another partner is the smartest idea. Didn’t work out so well last time,” Jay says. He makes a bad joke, a jab at them, and it’s a lame attempt to downplay his feelings and the conversation at hand, and Erin just rolls her eyes at him.

“Look, you can lie to me all you want, but don’t lie to yourself. You should tell her Jay. I can see she feels the same.”

She gives him one last smile and then she’s gone. And he’s left with the closure he never got from her before, but also with more questions than ever plaguing his mind now.

Jay makes his way to his sofa, plops down, and leans his head back against the cushions. There’s another knock on his door and he curses as he stands. It’s the delivery guy with the food he had ordered earlier. He pays the delivery guy and closes his door, looking down at the bag in his hand for barely a moment before a smile appears on his face. He’s exhausted and his shoulder is throbbing in discomfort, but he realizes right then there’s only one place else he’d rather be.

XXX

Hailey’s head is reeling by the time she gets back to her place. She kicks her shoes off as soon as she walks through her front door and then goes straight to the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey and a glass. She’s still in disbelief and shock that Erin had shown up out of the blue. A part of her feeling angry, annoyed, but mostly she’s just confused and curious.

Why had she come back? And why now, years later? Did she want Jay back? Did he want her back? Too many questions were clouding her head and she needed them to disappear immediately.

She pours herself a glass of whiskey and knocks it back quickly, enjoying the momentary burn as it slips down her throat.

She’s not sure how much time passes between knocking back her first drink and now sipping on her third, when a loud knock sounds at her door. She groans out, slightly annoyed, thinking it must be Vanessa. Her roommate was quick as a whip and damn good police, but the younger officer had a bad habit of forgetting her keys.

Hailey makes her way to the door, shuffling her socked feet against the hardwood floors and pulls the door open hastily. She doesn’t expect to see her partner standing on the other side and takes a small step back in surprise.

“Hi,” Jay says to her with a shy smile on his face.

“Hi,” Hailey breathes out.

Jay doesn’t miss the way her voice seems to crack with just one word. Her eyes are glassy, but he can’t tell if she’s been crying or drinking, or both. He nods down to the bag of take out and beer in his good hand.

“Too soon for that rain check?” He asks her with a smirk now.

Hailey offers him a small smile and pulls the door open further, taking another step back so Jay can step inside. She closes the door behind him and leads him through the kitchen. He clocks the bottle of amber liquid on the counter as he follows Hailey to the living room, and then the two sit down on the couch.

“Whiskey huh?” He asks, pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen with a slight smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I was thirsty,” Hailey claps back with a smirk of her own.

Jay shakes his head at her before reaching for the bag of food. He pulls out several containers, handing Hailey’s food over to her, and the two dig in.

They eat in silence, stealing glances from the other every so often. Jay can tell something is off with his partner and he’s certain it has to do with the fact that she’d seen Erin in his apartment not even an hour ago. He can also tell she’s keeping her distance from him. Had it been any other time they’d be sat together knee to knee, eating their food, knocking back beers, and griping over some sporting event playing on television. Instead, Hailey sits with her legs crossed like a pretzel, keeping space between them, as she stays as close to the end of her couch as she can.

What he can’t gather is why she’s so distant with him. And then he remembers Erin’s words from earlier.

“I can see she feels the same...”

Did Hailey feel something for him? Something more than normal partners should feel for one another? She couldn’t think anything happened with Erin, did she? Not after all this time. Not after everything the two of them had been through together.

Jay knew this was new territory for them. They’d never crossed this line before. The line of professionalism and friendship. But looking at her now, Jay was sure there was never a time before tonight that he’d felt so awkward around Hailey. That he couldn’t get a solid read on her and it was killing him.

“You okay?” He finally asks after they finish eating. He turns his head to look at her and leans against her couch with his arms spread out over the back.

“I’m fine. Guess I just didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” Hailey tells him as she takes a pull from her beer.

“How come?” Jay presses.

Hailey raises an eyebrow at him, silently asking if he was serious, and he just shrugs making her laugh. The sound alone makes him smile. Despite whatever was or wasn’t happening between them, he could at least still make her laugh.

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that to happen. I thought it was you knocking on my door,” Jay says, reaching for his own beer.

“What did she want?” Hailey asks, unable to help herself.

“See how I was doing. Apologize. She’s here for work and Voight mentioned the shooting. I don’t know. Guilty conscience, I guess.”

“And how do you feel about that? Her being back, I mean.”

He takes a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.

“She’s not back. She’s leaving tomorrow.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Hailey pushes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jay counters.

Hailey shrugs. “Lot of history there.”

“I feel like there’s too much history, but there’s also nothing left between me and Erin. There are no feelings there whatsoever. I’ve moved on,” Jay tells her.

Hailey nods slowly, taking another sip of her beer and taking in his words as she looks down into her lap. She starts fiddling with the label on her beer bottle, needing to busy herself with anything other than looking in his eyes. A part of her is nervous at what she might find in those green eyes she had come to enjoy looking into so much. Maybe lies, or worse, truth.

“Hailey.”

How was it possible to both love and hate the way his voice sounded saying her name?

She takes a quick breath and looks up, meeting his eyes. Green. Smiling. Honest.

“Yeah,” she breathes out.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” she says as she runs her free hand through her hair.

Jay shakes his head at her. “Tell me what’s really going on in that head of yours.”

He needs her to tell him. He’s practically begging her with his eyes, but Hailey just shakes her own head at him then and stands from the couch.

“I really am tired. Maybe we should call it a night. It’s been a long day for both of us. Thanks for stopping by and for dinner, but I just wanna go to bed.”

He realizes she isn’t exactly asking for him to leave, but rather telling him as she carries her beer and grabs their empty food containers, and then makes her way to the kitchen. He lets out a deep sigh before he gets up from the couch and follows her. Her back is facing him as she puts her glass from earlier in the sink and stores the whiskey away in a cabinet.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Jay walks up behind her and reaches a hand towards her. He feels her body go rigid the second his hand lands on her waist, and then he hears the deep breath she takes.

It’s the first time they’ve touched one another in such an intimate way that wasn’t case related or him comforting her or shielding them from flying bullets in a surveillance van. It was just them.

He pulls at her side, forcing her to turn around and his heart aches at the sight of her blue eyes. Erin was right. Hailey does feel something for him. It’s splayed out all over her face and the tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Do you really want me to leave?” He asks. His voice is so quiet he’s not sure she even hears him.

He watches as she sucks in another breath and then shakes her head slowly, almost hesitantly. He feels his fingers twitch at her waist and he takes another small step closer towards her so they’re nearly chest to chest. His arm is around her now, his hand on her lower back.

“Can I stay?”

All she can do is nod her head. And then she reaches around her back for his hand and leads him up the stairs to her bedroom. They don’t say another word to each other. When they reach her room, Hailey releases his hand and grabs a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt from her dresser, then disappears into the bathroom. Jay slips the sling from his shoulder to remove his sweatshirt before carefully sliding the contraption back on over his t-shirt. He kicks off his jeans then as Hailey enters the bedroom again.

Her eyes linger on him for a moment as he stands in the middle of her bedroom in just a t-shirt and boxers. She gives him a shy smile and then nods to the bed. She takes the left side; he takes the right. And it feels so natural, like it’s not at all the first time they’re about to share a bed together.

They lay next to one another, ample space between them under the covers because he is still a gentleman and doesn’t want to overstep with her. He hears her blow out a deep breath next to him, and he turns his head slightly to look at her. There’s just enough light steaming in through her bedroom windows from the streetlights outside that he can make out the profile of her face, the angle of her jawline, and how she’s got her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

The awkward tension from earlier still somewhat lingers, but there’s a strange sense of comfortability around them now too. Because no matter what happens they’re still just Hailey and Jay. They’re still them. And before he can think twice he’s reaching his hand out under the covers to find hers. The sudden contact of his skin and the squeeze of his fingers against hers makes her jump and she turns her head to seek out his eyes in the slight darkness.

There’s a strange look on his face, one that she has seen before, but has tried to ignore. The look that tells her he feels it between them too, even though neither have admitted it or said anything out loud yet.

“You’re my best friend. You know that right?” He asks her then. His voice is deep and quiet, and he squeezes her hand again.

Hailey nods, realizing she’s been staring at him in silence this whole time before she says, “you’re my best friend, too.”

Jay squeezes her fingers once more and it’s quiet again as they lay side by side in her bed. He can feel it in the silence though. He can feel it in the slow brush of her thumb moving back and forth over the top of his hand. He can feel it in the way her eyes stare back at him.

There’s something palpable between them. Undeniable. It’s in everything they do and don’t do, everything they say and don’t say. They both know it, but say nothing else as they drift closer together in Hailey’s bed, not letting go of one another’s hand.

They don’t need to say anything because they know it’s just a matter of time before things change again for them. Until they finally break from their stubbornness and trepidation and insecurities that have stemmed from their broken pasts. They know this thing between them is inevitable.

#chicago pd #upstead #upstead fic #hailey upton #jay halstead #jay x hailey

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order-of-river-phoenix · 4 years

Note

I think this is like my third or fourth request to you, I hope you don’t mind! I was wondering if you’d write something with Joe Toye? I don’t mind what, but please can it have a happy ending? ♥️♥️

To Find You; Joseph Toye

Fandom: HBO War; Band of Brothers

A/N: ahhhh I have been trying to get this written all week, but words! hate! me! Also, I was supposed to have today off but uhhh that didn’t happen. Anyway, I hope the happy ending is to your liking 😊 thank you for the request!!

Warnings: ooh boy it starts a little angsty there

Taglist: @liebegott @stressedinadress @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @floydtab @hbohmygodx @meteora-fc @punkgeekchic @vintagelavenderskies @hoosiers-hoe @alienoresimagines @hannahbear1 @easy-company-tradition

__________

Hold my hand, you murmured in the back of your mind.

And it was like he read your mind, every time.

Bringing your hand to his lips, Joe kissed your chapped knuckles. "Shh, it'll be alright," he mouthed against the skin still held close to his face. "I won't let nothing bad happen to you."

Your eyes closed a moment longer than a blink. "I want to promise the same, but..." You didn't have to finish. You both knew you were a realist at heart; nothing was ever certain. Shades of gray, never black and white. "I gotta walk around. My feet are going to sleep."

He squeezed your hand once more before letting you go.

It didn't ease your conscience that you hadn't gone against your word when you heard it. The explosions, the cries for help. It was like the air had grown thicker, like trying to run in water. It felt so much longer getting back than it had to walk away.

You stumbled upon the place you'd left him, and you had never wished to be deceived more than that moment. You hoped and prayed your eyes were wrong. The scene laid out before you was heartbreaking. You looked across to Buck, who had gotten there first, and you could see the horror he felt.

The urge to comfort Joe was so exceedingly strong, but you couldn't move. You couldn't bring yourself to go to him. So you stood and watched as he and Bill were taken away.

"L/N," Lipton said softly. When you didn't react, he put his hand on the back of your shoulder. "L/N, hey. Why don't you come sit down?"

Finally you blinked. You'd been staring at the large area of dirty, bloody snow.

"Come on." He led you somewhere where more people could keep an eye on you.

__________

You spent every day since thinking about Joe. Whether he was okay or if he made it home safely. It made your own journey home feel less joyous. You tossed and turned at night, replaying that night over and over again, wishing you could have helped. Wishing you had at least gotten over yourself enough to say goodbye.

It was to no one's surprise when your family found a note on your pillow saying you loved them but you had to find someone—"Maybe I'll be back soon. No promises."

Rolling into his hometown, with nothing but an old camping pack with some necessities haphazardly thrown into it, you quickly decided that you'd just have to ask around until you found him.

You lucked out with the third person you stopped.

"Sure, I know Joe,” the stranger pleasantly answered. “They live not too far from here.” He gave you directions, and you were on your way, once again.

The house wasn’t hard to miss. Not that it stuck out, but he’d described it to you one night he was feeling homesick. And this one was exactly what you pictured when he talked about it.

The woman that answered the door had a familiar smile, which promptly fell when you told her why you were there.

“Joe’s not, uh, well... Joe isn’t feeling too well today.”

You laughed dryly. “All due respect, ma’am, but he wasn’t feeling too great the last time I saw him either. I really need to see him.”

She showed you to the room he had been sitting in all day. It was a sunroom with potted plants sitting near the windows and some sparse furniture.

Joe was lying on a small sofa, watching the wall across from him like there was a show on.

“You’ve got a visitor,” his mother announced, hoping for a reaction. She gave you a pained look before leaving the room.

You stayed by the door, unsure of where to put yourself. “Hi, Joe.”

He turned to look at you briefly, and he seemed unsure if you were really standing there. “What are you doing here?”

Facing down at your shifting feet, you felt small under his gaze. “I told you I’d come see you.

“Guess you did.” He turned back to the wall. “Well, now you’ve seen me.”

You thought you’d grown used to his dry sense of humor, but at the moment, you huffed a little. “You’re not even a little curious about how I found you?“

“I know you’re clever, Y/N,” he shrugged. “I don’t need to ask how you found out where I live.”

You decided to take a seat on the chair across from his sofa. “It’s just how you described it.” When he remained silent, you continued to babble. “This room is really nice. Do you spend a lot of time in here? I would if we had a room like this.”

“Ma thought I needed the sunlight. My bedroom window’s too small apparently.”

You nodded. The silence was almost palpable. You weren’t sure where to direct the conversation—you never had to try with him before—and for all you knew, he wanted you to leave him alone.

"You remember when you promised me you'd never let anything bad happen to me?" you blurted.

Still facing the wall, he answered with a quiet, "Yeah."

"And how I couldn't promise the same?"

"What are you getting at?" he sighed.

You shifted your feet again. "I feel like I should be apologizing."

He sharply turned to look at you. "Apologize for what? This isn't your fault, Y/N. You didn't break me."

A breath was sitting in your throat, waiting.

He decided to take advantage of your loss for words. "You sure as hell can't fix this,” he said, gesturing to his absent right leg. He almost laughed.

"I know that," you managed. "I just want you to talk to me at least."

"What have we been doing for the past 5 minutes?"

"You know what I mean."

His eyes averted as he nodded. "I know," he relented, but that was all.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I love you,” you admitted. “I’m sorry that I just stood and stared while you were in so much pain. And that I didn’t kiss you every single time that it felt like the right time. And I’m sorry I let you go so long without knowing that I love you in every imaginable way.” Your heart threatened to beat its way out of your chest and your neck itched with the blood rush.

“You came all this way to tell me that?”

You released the breath you’d been holding. “That’s all you have to say?”

Finally expressing somewhat more of the Joe Toye you remembered, he animatedly shrugged again. “I mean, most people would just write their heartfelt confessions. But no, no, I admire your flare.”

“Joe, how could I have written you? I didn’t know your address until I got here.” A smile crept onto both of your faces.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he said finally, putting your heart at ease. “I thought about saying a million different times too, so don’t feel like you have to apologize.”

__________

You moved into a boarding house a couple blocks away, making daily visits to the Toye house. The sunroom saw a few more bad days, but it also contained the many laughs and heartfelt conversations you two shared.

You wrote home a few times, first explaining you had found who you’d been looking for, and then recurring excuses as to why now was not the time to come home—“I just got a job here...Joe asked if I could help him with something next month...I couldn’t bear to leave now when...” Eventually, they got the message and just asked for an invitation to the wedding.

A year later, the occasion arose. You had agreed to a small ceremony, but by the time you’d addressed all the invitations, there were over a hundred guests on your list. They ranged from your respective families to some of the Easy company men to a few childhood friends.

It was easily the happiest day you two had shared, and neither of you could believe that it had finally come. You had both come a long way from those terrified soldiers fighting in Europe. Anyone could tell from the smiles glued to your faces that you were far from regretting your spur-of-the-moment decision to find him.

#mariah writes: band of brothers #mariah writes #band of brothers #joe toye #joe toye x reader #band of brothers imagine #hbo war

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elsb-hrngtons · 4 years

Text

We can help each other, You and me- Chapter 3.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Links to Ao3 in notes.

Holy shit, Steve was walking towards them. Steve who usually has all the grace of a skittish animal on ice is walking towards them, grace or lack thereof completely exacerbated by the combination of cheap booze he’s managed to consume in one evening. Tommy feels his heart rate pick up, of all scenarios he had imagined of this night turning out, this wasn’t even on his radar.

He’s content with this thing he’s got going with Billy, Billy who’s all testosterone and hard edges, solid muscle and golden tan skin. Yeah Tommy’s got the luck of the draw as far as attractive guys go, and sure Billy does tend to lean towards behaving like a prize asshole more often or not, he’s actually not an asshole, not really. Tommy knows now it's all an act, a facade to protect himself, from what exactly he’s not entirely sure, but he knows it's all bravado.

But despite what he has going on with Billy, Steve’s still Steve and Tommy isn’t sure anything in this world could stop him from wanting him, and now Steve’s walking over. Well swaying.

Billy tenses next to him, they’re gazes meet one another, both a mirror image of shock and mild panic, before inevitably both their gazes return to Steve who’s weaving through the crowd to get to them. Shit.

Subconsciously Tommy’s reaching for Billy, looking for something to ground him before his mind goes off into a tailspin, Billy seemingly getting the idea, or needing it himself slings an arm around Tommy’s shoulder just as Steve stops in front of them.

“Harrington” Billy nods. Steve looks like a deer caught in headlights, looks like his brain is about 5 seconds behind the rest of his body and that he could literally bolt at any moment. He’s swallowing thickly, gasping for breaths, eyes all glassy and glazed over and he’s swaying on the spot trying not to lose balance. He fails . Steve falls forward, his arm flying forward and landing on Billy’s shoulder to catch himself. Tommy feels a slight pang of jealousy at that. “Jesus Harrington, how much have you had to drink?” Billy asks, swinging around catching Steve before he falls all the way, supporting his body weight from one side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Steve slurs, a dopey smile plastered on his face, arm jerking out before he boops Billy on the nose, and Tommy warms slightly, Steve’s smile was always enough to reduce him to mush and the boy has always been just a little ridiculous. Billy gestures his head at Tommy indicating he should come up the other side of Steve, lend a hand keeping him up right. Tommy like always does as he’s told.

Tommy is scanning the crowd for Robin, he knows Steve came with her, but she’s nowhere to be found, and he’s not really sure what to do. Steve’s mumbling incoherently between him and Billy, and Tommy would be amused if he wasn’t genuinely worried that Steve wasn’t ten seconds from passing out.

“C’mon Stevie boy, let's get you outta here” he coos as he and Billy haul his ass outta the living room and towards the front door.

“I thought you’d never ask” Steve slurs again flashing them both a grin before tripping up over his own feet on the way out of the house.

###

Mission accomplished Steve thinks to himself smugly as he’s placed into the back seat of Billy’s car. He impressed even himself tonight, he always knew he could be smooth when he needed to be, but even he hadn’t expected that putting on the charm would be quite so successful. He smiles quietly to himself as Tommy and Billy both get into the front seats and they begin their journey into the night.

Steve feels hazy, definitely not sober, definitely leaning towards too drunk, but it's fine, he’s done this plenty of times and he’s been far drunker than this, if only the world would stop spinning for 2 seconds so he could focus on his game plan.

The car comes to a slow stop and it takes Steve a herculean effort to lift his head from where it's resting on the window so he can access his surroundings. It's not his house they’ve stopped at. Good he thinks to himself, it means they’re not just gonna dump him in his bed and then leave.

Suddenly the front passenger seat is being pulled forward towards the dashboard and Steve is being hauled out of the car by strong arms.

“C’mon on pretty boy, let's get you inside” Billy’s deep gravelly voice is both soothing and lighting a fire in the pit of Steve’s gut, he wonders absentmindedly as he’s being half guided and half dragged towards what he now recognises as Tommy’s house, if he’s too drunk to avoid popping a boner right there and then, the being manhandled was doing things to him, his brain was far too muddled to really comprehend right then.

They’re taking him down to the basement, of that he’s sure. Tommy’s basement; the designated hangout of his youth whenever his parents dared to actually be in town. He can feel the slight drag of his feet along the carpeted floor as they move towards the couch, why aren’t his legs working? Oh that's right he’s drunk. Steve is silently willing himself to sober the fuck up, he can’t concentrate like this, he can’t successfully make his play with all the booze and adolescent attraction swirling around his brain and clouding his vision and thoughts. He physically shakes his head as if that is somehow gonna reset his brain back to normal functioning Steve. It does not.

He’s been unceremoniously plonked in the middle of the couch, while the boys fall heavily either side of him. He’s trying to be attentive to what's going on around him, but he finds it almost physically impossible to raise his gaze from the coffee table, the bloods rushing in his head and all he can hear is static and white noise, until the world comes back into startling focus, when he’s being nudged in the side by Tommy’s elbow.

Tommy’s handing him a joint and Steve knows realistically this is a bad idea, he needs to keep what wits he has left about him, but Steve’s never been accused of making good decisions or being particularly smart. He inhales the thick smoke, sweet and heavy in his lungs, smooth as he exhales and it dissipates around him, he takes another drag and melts further into the couch. His world is quite literally tilting on his axis as he tries desperately to focus on his present company and what they’re saying, his vision is spinning and he feels sick, he’s gonna throw up and he hates himself right now for effectively being his own ridiculous cockblock.

The guys must read his mind or he must voice his intentions out loud because next thing he knows they're scrambling to put a bucket in front of him as he lurches forward and violently expels the contents of his stomach.

Someone’s stroking his back, rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades, he’s not sure who but he appreciates it as he gags and heaves through his misery. Someone says something but he can’t hear them over the sound of his own retching but he thinks maybe it might be something soothing. The bucket is taken away once Steves finished dry heaving and his breathing has calmed down, and he can feel his eyelids getting heavier, his head lulling to the side and forward as if his neck can’t physically support its weight anymore, he’s being guided back down onto the couch, his head resting in someone’s lap while the other throws a blanket over him and settles under his legs and feet. Sleep is pulling at him now, insistent and stubborn and he can’t stay awake much longer, despite how much he wants to fight it, he nuzzles his cheek into whoever’s thigh its pressed against, while they pet his hair gently and softly massage his scalp, the other is rubbing firm but soothing circles into his calves and it doesn’t take long before Steve drifts off into the sweet embrace of sleep.

###

Well this wasn’t ideal.

Billy’s feeling frustrated and a little disappointed, and he can tell Tommy is too because that kicked puppy look makes an appearance again, before Steve mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and nuzzles his cheek further into Billy’s thigh, and it's quickly replaced with a look of fondness.

Billy replays the evening's events in his head, he wills himself not to get hard thinking about his earlier activities with Tommy. He thinks back to the party, his brief moment of jealousy, turned to an even briefer moment of hope as Steve approached, the anticipation and apprehension as he worried about the other boy's intentions. The amusement at a clearly inebriated Harrington, and was he trying to flirt?.

Billy’s playing with Steve’s hair and it's just as soft and fluffy as he imagined it would be, he’s frustrated sure, had Steve not been so infuriatingly drunk, so far gone, the evening might have taken an interesting turn and his wildest fantasies may have become a reality, but here he is pinned to a couch under Steve who’s lightly snoring and making adorable little noises in his sleep. Its cute, but it also makes him itch with a combination of feelings, disappointment, the slight tinge of anger, fondness for the poor drunk mess, fondness for Tommy who’s cradling Steve’s feet as if they were some kinda precious thing, and he can’t help but agree with that sentiment, and ultimately he’s annoyed that even if the likelihood of bedding Steve was low to begin with, he could always rely on Tommy to be a sure thing, but even now that's a no go as they find themselves trapped under the weight of Harrington, too far apart to touch each other, and too scared to jostle Steve awake.

He knows he can be an asshole, and while in most situations he’d wear it like a badge of honour, he’s not so much of an asshole that he’d take advantage of a black out Steve and put him in a situation where he might not be comfortable in, sure it would have been easy to let him flirt, to maybe steal a kiss or two, but he could risk it all by doing that, and it just isn’t worth it, not right now anyway.

Billy wants to sleep, can feel the exhaustion in his bones, but his mind is racing and every time he thinks he might be blessed with sleep claiming him, he jerks awake as if he’s just woken from a bad dream, or he’s heard Neil’s footsteps outside his door, and isn’t that just great? Can’t get laid, can’t move and literally under the boy of his dreams and he can’t even sleep, he wonders if someone upstairs might be mocking him.

###

Consciousness doesn't come genty to Steve, it's not sudden, but it's not a soft transition from the land of nod to the land of living, like when the sun streams through his curtains on a sunday morning, and Steve can relax in the knowledge he doesn’t have to physically move util at least midday. The first thing Steve notices is the incessant pounding in his head, much like one of Robin’s band friends, beating a drum near constantly right in his brain, shaking loose all his grey matter and making his ears ring. The next thing he notices is the dry yet tacky feeling in his mouth and throat which brings back vague memories of him throwing up, confirmed by the bitter taste on his tongue and the fuzzy coating of his teeth and gums.

The next thing Steve notices is that he’s absolutely 100 percent sure he’s not in a bed, if the aching in his bones and joints is anything, and whatever coach he had the misfortune to pass out on is lumpy, hard and so very uncomfortable. He’s not brave enough to open his eyes just yet, scared that whatever light there is might just burn out his corneas, he’s also scared to confirm the niggling feeling the back of his brain keeps screaming at him, That he is in fact not alone.

Turns out Steve doesn’t need to open his eyes to confirm that, as whatever, whoever he’s laying on shifts under him and grunts slightly, and then adds to the mix of disorientation there's snoring coming from the direction of his feet. He wills himself to force his eyes open and looks towards the snoring figure, Tommy H in all his freckled glory is fast asleep, hugging Steve’s legs, head rested sideways on the armrest of the couch and a tiny stream of drool falling from his open mouth creating a wet patch under him.

For the briefest of moments Steve admires the scene before him, regards Tommy’s sleeping form with a swell of affection, before the ice cold reality of the situation at hand washes over him when he realises his face is quite literally next to Billy’s dick, and Billy isn’t immune to the plight of morning wood.

Panic swells in Steve’s gut as he’s bombarded with hazy memories from the night before, tableau's of a sequence of events that led him to his current predicament. He cringes as he recollects his attempts at being smooth, attempts being the operative word, and ultimately wants to die at the thought of being so absolutely wrecked he threw up in Tommy’s basement and literally passed out on top of the two boys he’s been lusting after. He’s pissed off at his behaviour, especially as he didn’t even manage to get lucky.

He needs to get out of here before the reality has chance to settle in further and he has to face Tommy and Billy awake, he’s not proud of dipping out without waking them, but its not like he actually slept with them, and he’s too embarrassed to acknowledge the train wreck that was the night before. He gently removes his legs from Tommy’s vice like hold and rolls off Billy’s lap and falls between the couch and coffee table with a thud. He freezes for a moment looking towards the boys, checking for any signs of life and when he finds none he sags in relife and creeps out before either of them have a chance to stir awake.

###

As if things couldn’t get any worse he’s late to work, Robin’s already there greeting him with a smirk and a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Look who finally decided to show up, sorry to drag you away from your boyfriends”

Steve stomps past her towards the back room so he can clock in.

“Shut up,” he bites, kicking the door open with more force than was strictly necessary and heads to the coat rack to hang his jacket and retrieve the worst hat he’s even had the displeasure to wear.

“Well good morning to you too” Robin responds, following him and leaning on the door frame, “What's crawled up your ass and died?” her expression is pinched and fraught with worry, Steve can feel her eyes on him as he moves about the back room preparing for the shift from hell. He meets her gaze and huffs out breath, blowing some of the hair that's gathered in front of his eyes.

“Sorry, I'm just not in the mood” He goes for the puppy dog eyes, hopes his expression is enough to convince Robin to drop the inevitable onslaught of questions that are certainly going to be headed his way.

“Obviously. What happened?”

“I really don’t wanna talk about it” he pleads, to Robin to God he’s not sure all he know is he wants out of this conversation as quickly as possible, and maybe to down a strawberry shake in the desperate hope of curing the hangover that keeps threatening a fate worse than death on him.

“Well tough. I need to know what happened Steve, I wouldn’t be a very good fairy gay mother if i didn’t” she states matter of factly as she follows Steve back out to the front.

“Nothing happened!” Steve mumbles

“Bullshit!”

“I swear Robin, nothing happened” he defends, he’s actively avoiding eye contact with her now, busying himself making a shake and anything that might keep his attention away from her knowing gaze.

“If nothing happened” she says leaning in “then why are you acting all grumpy” she swipes the milkshake from Steve’s hands and proceeds to take a sip.

“Hey!” He squeaks snatching the milkshake back “and i’m not grumpy i’m just hungover” he turns away from her, half to protect his shake and half to protect his dignity as Robin’s probing continued.

“Nuh uh, i’ve seen you hungover and you’re never like this” she gestures with her hands up and down towards Steve.

“Like what exactly?”

“Like a prissy bitch” she’s smirking now, fully in the knowledge she’s successfully riled Steve up.

Steve sighs, shoulders hunched and deflated as he accepts defeat, if he has any hope of getting out of this shift alive he’s gonna have to talk to Robin.

“I got too drunk”

“Duh i could have told you that Dingus”

“I threw up and then passed out on top of them.” he’s blushing, the embarrassment from last night and this morning too much to bear.

“Kinky.” Robin wags her eyebrows

“No. not like that” Steve huffs

“Like what then?”

“I’m pretty sure all i did was get drunk, make a fool out of myself and fall asleep. Literally achieved nothing and they probably think I'm nothing but a mess, which lets face it I am.” He’s sitting atop the back counter,legs swinging down, slowly sipping at his milkshake which does little to settle his uneasy stomach, and he’s not sure if that because of the hangover or anxiety.

“You’re not a mess Steve” she tries to reassure.

“Yeah right” He scoffs.

Robin, determined in operation wingman, steps closer to him and grabs him by the face by both hands.

“Listen to me asshole. You. Are. Not. A. Mess.” Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, you’re not! You may act messy, but you’re not a complete mess” she’s smiling up at him earnestly as she lets go of his face. “ you’re funny, you’re charming, and objectively even i, a lesbian, can say you’re attractive, like disgustingly so, and even beyond all that you’re actually really sweet, i bet if you were just yourself, you’d have them eating out the palm of your hand” she squeezes his knee in what Steve's sure is an attempt to comfort.

“Okay , sure,” Steve says, voice dripping with sarcasm, which earns him a cuff around the back of his head. “Ow! Hey!” he protests.

“I’m serious Steve, trust me they’re crazy about you, you gotta stop thinking so little of yourself.”

“I’ll take your word for it”

###

The next morning after the party Tommy felt his heart sink at the empty space Steve had occupied only hours before. He’s not sure how long it's been since he left, but the warmth of Steve’s body heat has long since dissipated as Tommy blinks awake.

Tommy’s mind races as he tries to think back to anything that might have spooked Steve into taking off without a word, and he comes up blank, he worries if he and Billy may have come on too strong, but reconciles that they in fact didn’t come on at all, if anything it was Steve that was laying on the moves. That thought, for a moment consoles him, eases his troubled mind, until he realises with a pinch of rejection that maybe Steve hadn’t meant it at all. He was always a flirt when he drank, girls and boys alike he didn’t discriminate when it came to a bit of cheeky banter., and Steve had taken off either because he was disgusted with his own actions, or disgusted at the idea of Tommy and Billy not discouraging him.

Dejected and sad he shifts on the couch so he can shuffle closer to Billy, lean into him and find comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

###

It’s a joint decision really, to give Steve space, to avoid contact, give him a chance to overcome his embarrassment/disgust/shame from the night of the party, let him adjust or whatever.

It’s been a week since they last saw him, more since they last graced scoops with their presence, under the thinly veiled guise of loyal patrons, but actually for the sole purpose of ogling Steve and maybe riling him up a little. He is extremely cute when he gets flustered. That was a sentiment Tommy couldn’t help but agree with when Billy first said it.

Tommy, still without a job, and without much else to do during the hot summer days while Billy’s working at the pool, finds himself lost. He follows Billy around like a lost child, and what's worse Tommy’s fully aware he’s doing it and he can’t stop. He’s worried he might be pissing Billy off, by getting under his feet, cramping his style , not giving him enough room to breathe, but without Billy’s sure and constant, albeit sometimes volatile, presence, Tommy feels like he might spiral into a pit of despair, generated by a combination of conflicting emotions and boredom.

So Tommy clings to Billy, doesn’t much care about anything else, just that against all expectations he finds comfort in it, and everyone be damned he’s not about to give that up, for anything.

They’re at the pool today, Billy’s working, perched up on his lifeguard chair, like some proud sun-kissed Adonis, chiselled personally by the gods. Tommy is amused at how Billy revels in the sense of authority the job provides him, how drunk on power the blonde can get, and if Tommy’s being totally honest with himself, how all that authority, that power trip and not to mention the quite frankly scandalous uniform, makes his toes curl. He can’t think too hard on that, he’s pretty sure if he did he’d end up on some kind of register for sporting a half chub in the presence of all these snotty kids who have taken permanent residence at Hawkins Community Pool.

It's just as Tommy’s getting lost in his thoughts of rock hard abs, and an authority complex, that he’s snapped out of his daydream by several cubes of ice falling from above him and landing square on his chest.

“Hey watch it asshole!” Tommy squawks as he flings himself into a sitting position, prepared to send a truly devastating glare in Billy’s direction for fucking with him. It's only until he shields his eyes from the glare of the sun that he realises that Billy’s not fucking around. If it were possible the boy atop the lifeguard chair would be as pale as a ghost, as his jaw tenses and his eyes trail from the entrance and track the movement of someone. Tommy tries to follow his stare and feels a brand new and cool rush of panic begin, as he spots Steve and fucking Robin make their way over to some loungers on the far side of the pool decking.

Tommy chokes and before he has a chance to process anything else, Billy is jumping down from the lifeguard chair and dragging Tommy to his feet by his arm. Tommy squeaks at the sudden movement, but his brain soon catches up and he’s falling in line matching him step for step. Billy’s still half dragging him along, and Tommy’s certain drawing attention, but he can’t argue, can’t question Billy, not when he’s being like this.

Billy glanced over to his colleague Heather, sat on the table top of a picnic bench just outside the pool’s changing rooms.

“Hey Holloway! Cover for me while I take my break?” Billy yells, half asking, half demanding, not waiting for a response, before dragging Tommy into the staff changing rooms.

###

Steve’s wondering what awful things he’s done in a previous life and this life to deserve this fate. It’s bad enough that he has to face Robin every day, with her constant nagging and interfering in his love life or more accurately lack thereof, but to finally grow the balls enough to face his ‘Billy and Tommy problem’ head on, with a little liquid courage to aide him on his way, for him to totally fuck up and end up at square one. Worse than square one in fact it’s more like square minus 10.

And now as if his constant torture couldn’t get any more painful Robin’s dragging him kicking and screaming to Hawkins pool, in a vain attempt to get him back on the horse, if there is even a horse still to get back onto.

“I’m sick of your whining Steve” she said “you’re never gonna achieve anything moping around all the time” she chastised.

“What if i don’t wanna achieve anything?” he argued. “What if I like moping” he pouted.

It’s not as easy as she’s making out to be, Steve thinks to himself, the whole getting back on the horse thing, getting back in the game. It’s not as straightforward as if it were a girl or girls he was chasing, and Robin of all people should understand that, what with her unrequited crush on Heather Holloway of all people.

He knows he’s dragging his feet, being a brat, but he just can’t help himself, it's a defence mechanism . She’s literally forced him to pick her up and drive her to the pool, and when he was a hair's breadth away from having a full blown panic attack, she talked him down, dragged him out of the pool and shoved him into the men's changing rooms, claiming to guard the door to make sure he didn’t make an escape attempt.

So now they’re changed and walking across the decking towards some sun loungers, prime location to scope out the landscape of the pool and keep half an eye on their ‘target’ until Steve grows to courage to approach them. Robin had got some insider information that Tommy was hanging out at the pool everyday while Billy worked, and thought it was an excellent idea to go to them, go to their territory so that Steve could slip away at any point he needed to, if he needed to.

Steve’s making a point not to raise his gaze any higher than the ground, he’s letting Robin be his eye’s for him, she keeps mumbling ridiculous shit like ‘target acquired’ and other shitty lines she’s probably heard from overrated spy movies or some crap. It’s because of this Steve doesn’t notice Billy jump down from his chair and hoist Tommy up by the elbow.

“Oh shit” Robin whispers.

“What?”

“They’re moving” it’s at that point Steve raises his head and spots Billy practically dragging Tommy into the staff changing rooms, in what appears to be a blind panic, he’s not sure if that’s a good sign or not. He swallows the lump in his throat and settles onto a lounger, eyes never leaving the door that just swung behind the two boys.

After a what feels like a lifetime, but in reality was probably at most a minute, he looks over to Robin who’s settled in next to him, she looks as if she’s having a crisis of her own, cheeks flushed, staring intently through her sunglasses towards the lifeguard tower where Heather has finally decided to perch herself on, Robin’s mouth hangs agape, and Steve would bet good money that if she had less self control she'd be drooling right about now. He reconciles the fact that with Heather in her sights, she’s actually gonna be less help that Steve had hoped for, less help than she had originally intended.

Steve steels himself, wills his anxiety away chanting an internal monologue of “You’ve got this.” and “you’re Steve Harrington for god sake, what are you worried about” the same mantra he had practiced in his mirror for at least an hour this morning when Robin called to tell him her cunning plan.

He’s far too sober for this, can’t blame the booze and feign ignorance if it all goes wrong, but after the latest disaster, alcohol has been completely removed from the playing field until he’s at least talked to the two boys.

With a shaky breath and a false sense of bravado, Steve stands up from where he’s perched and tries to walk as nonchalantly as he can towards the door he’d seen Billy drag Tommy through only minutes ago.

###

Steve’s stealthy, like a ninja. It’s like his thing, he opens the door as gently and as slowly as he can so not to make a sound, as he creeps into the dark depths of the changing rooms. His heart is going a hundred miles and hour as he takes in his surroundings.

He can’t see them immediately, but he can hear them. A shower’s running somewhere in the distance, and he can also hear muffled moans and stifled groans as he silently moves closer. He thinks he can hear the distinct sound of skin slapping skin, the undeniable sound track of a quicky in the shower, his imagination runs wild, is it them? He’s not sure, but it doesn’t stop his brain, or more accurately his dick from jumping to that conclusion.

He’s hard in his swim shorts, as his mind conjures images of Tommy and Billy fucking in the shower, skin on skin, dirty talk and filthy moans providing excellent kindling, to the fire burning in his loins.

“Fuck yeah, don’t stop” that was definitely Billy voice he heard, Steve claims a spot on one of the benches torn between interrupting and letting it play out, he ultimately leans towards letting it play out, he’s not rude . He’s staring at his traitorous dick tenting his shorts, contemplates the risks of touching himself, needs to touch himself so badly, who knew Steve Harrington was such a fucking pervert. The irony isn’t lost on him that he’s essentially doing exactly the kind of thing he gave Jonathan so much shit for back in high school, but god, when they’re making sinful noises like that can he really be blamed? His eyes snap up to the sound of Tommy’s voice.

“Jesus baby, you’re so tight” he grunts. So it's definitely the boys going at it like bunny rabbits in the shower, no need for imagination, and well that's all the encouragement Steve’s lust addled mind needs to pull at the waistband of his shorts, setting his cock free and giving it a few strokes.

He’s not even sure how long he stays there, pumping his fist up and down, revelling in the sweet sounds of fucking. He’s entirely lost in his own pleasure, must have tuned out the outside world, all the background noise, eyes screwed shut and groaning loudly as he cums all over his fist and stomach, because he fails to notice the shower shut off and the curtain being pulled back. He’s so consumed in the aftershocks that he’s completely unaware of the two figures standing directly in front of him.

“Damn Harrington.” Billy admires.

Steve’s eyes fly open, flush overtaking his entire body as he meets the stars of Tommy and Billy looking down at him. Steve regards the state he’s in and silent wishes the floor would swallow him up right then and there.

#Keg Boys #Keg Girls #Keg Gang #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Tommy H #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove x Tommy H #my fic #Fan fic

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anns-lgbt-inclusive-anime-blog · 4 years

Note

bucci gang's first stand battles

awright, a little vague but i got this

also, trigger warning, graphic depictions of violence and drug use and rape!!!

~~~

Bruno wasn’t sure what he was doing. He had this brand new ability that Polpo had called a stand. And this was his first time using it.

Polpo had said it was named Sticky Fingers...weird name.

The enemy was also using a Stand. His Stand was much faster. And much stronger. It’s punches landed on Bruno’s much smaller body relentlessly. When he let up to breathe, Bruno was sobbing on the ground. Obviously, this man had no problems killing a child like himself. He was already bleeding from multiple wounds on his arms and chest.

His Stand reached up one more time to land a final hit before he blacked out, but on instinct, Bruno cried out his Stand’s name. A humanoid figure, similar to his enemy’s, blurred into existence before him and threw a fierce punch at the older man.

Immediately, his head was detached from his body. His body from the neck down went limp and collapsed. Bruno wanted this man to suffer. He was willing to make a child hurt for his own goals.

Bruno hoped he rotted. The zippers disappeared and the man was left to bleed out and die.

Then, he realized that this was the first time he had ever used his Stand ability. And it was zippers. How interesting. He was excited to learn more tricks that his ability had to offer.

===

Pannacotta was an interesting anomaly. He passed Polpo’s test and had already called out his Stand once before. But, he never used Purple Haze. He just...stared at the Stand for, like, ten minutes, before dismissing it.

Purple Haze was disgusting. A monster. Pannacotta didn’t believe that this thing was a reflection of his soul. He didn’t even know what it could do.

But he discovered that soon enough. While on a walk home from the grocery store, he was shifting the bag between his arms to reach his phone. He was knocked to the ground by another person. He looked crazed. His eyes were dilated and he was trembling. When Pannacotta looked closer, he could see flecks of white dusting his nose.

Oh, so this guy was that kind of person. Bruno warned him that these types of people were unstable and dangerous.

But now, Pannacotta was sure, he was going to witness it first-hand.

The man swung a fist at him, which he’d easily dodged. “Watch where you’re goin, punk! I’m walkin’ here!”

“I was watching where I was going! Watch where you’re going, asshole!”

Oh, now Pannacotta is fucked. Bruno always said to never engage with a druggie. They can and will attempt to harm you.

The man called out, “Nice Guy!”

Oh, now Pannacotta was really fucked. This guy was a Stand user. A pink monster-looking thing emerged from his torso and towered over the both of them. It reached for his throat and he rolled out of the way.

Pannacotta wasn’t going to call out Purple Haze unless he was in immediate danger. He hated that thing.

‘Nice Guy’ continued after him as he sprinted away from the attacker but the thing was gaining on him. He growled in frustration. He could feel Purple Haze bubbling under his skin, itching to get out. Pannacotta forced himself to calm down.

But this man was so persistent. He couldn’t help it. Purple Haze burst from his figure and threw a barrage of punches at this man. There was a sound of glass shattering and then the man was melting. But Pannacotta was so full of rage, he didn’t notice.

When it was over, and he came to, there was a pile of quickly dissolving flesh at his feet. It smelled horrible.

He stepped away from it and turned the other direction. And he fled. And with that, he knew exactly what it was that his Stand could do.

~~~

Narancia remembers very clearly getting punctured with the arrow. He remembers how the lighter went out and he panicked, only to relight it. Then, he remembered the thing dragging him up into the air. He remembers it was saying something and then the arrow came from deep in its throat and it stabbed him through his neck.

It wasn’t a very good memory that Narancia liked reliving, but it gave him his awesome Stand! An aeroplane! How cool is that?!

And it shot real bullets and bombs! That was so cool!

Buccellati had been hesitant to send him on a mission, but eventually, he had to. As his capo, it was his duty to send his soldatos on missions. But as his caretaker, of course he would be hesitant. He was supposed to make sure Narancia stayed safe and out of harm’s way.

Buccellati supposed he couldn’t do both at the same time. It was impossible.

Anyway, Narancia was sure he’d have fun on this mission! It was going to be his first time using his stand for fighting. And not something dumb, like looking for Fugo or Buccellati just because he was bored.

It was a solo mission. It took Bruno a lot of convincing just to let him go on this one mission alone.

But now that he was here, in this situation, he could see why Bruno would be concerned. This Stand user was strong, and quick. Narancia could barely keep up with him.

Aerosmith was quick, yes, but it was also not precise enough to hit just his target and leave no casualties. Of course, Narancia hadn’t thought of that, and had used Aerosmith prematurely.

He injured a total of maybe fifty-seven bystanders. He should’ve thought about his surroundings, like Panna had taught him several times.

Well, no harm done if Buccellati and Panna don’t find out.

“FIFTY-SEVEN INNOCENT BYSTANDERS SHOT AND INJURED, NARANCIA,” Panna’s voice rang throughout the hall. Luckily, the hall was empty and nobody but the two boys arguing and Buccellati were there.

“YEAH I GOT THAT, FUGO, QUIT YELLIN’ AT ME!”

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO USE YOUR STAND UNLESS YOU ARE POSITIVE NO ONE AROUND WILL GET HARMED!”

“I WASN’T THINKING!”

“CLEARLY!”

“ENOUGH, BOTH OF YOU,” Buccellati’s voice boomed around them, they both flinched and stood at attention.

“Narancia, I understand that you were panicked, but you should’ve kept a level head and we’ll work on that.” Narancia ducked his head with shame. “And Fugo, you shouldn’t have yelled at Narancia. He’s new to this, yelling at him won’t make him learn.”

That night, both Narancia and Panna slept restlessly.

~~~

Leone Abbacchio knew he was absolutely useless in a Stand battle. It was just something that felt like common sense to him.

After manifesting Moody Blues for the first time, he knew immediately that she would be useless against other Stands. She just wasn’t meant for fighting. Her stature was lean, but not lean enough that would indicate she could stand herself in a fight. Her movements were delicate, graceful.

Leone was always amazed at how gentle she was, compared to how brutish he was. She was his soul, essentially. So why was she so different?

For his first Stand-affiliated mission, he was sent with Narancia to keep him safe. Buccellati knew that Leone was more than capable of taking care of himself in a hand-to-hand fight.

But he also knew that Moody Blues would be essentially...worthless for any Stand battles that were to take place during this mission. It only needed her to replay whatever deal had taken place here and then they were supposed to leave.

Of course, things rarely ever went his way. There was a Stand user already waiting for them, apparently having been stalking them. He had listened in to their conversation and formulated a plan.

As any cocky antagonist, he monologued about how he was so confident that he was going to win this fight. He obviously hadn’t encountered Narancia’s Aerosmith before.

That fucker left no survivors.

But, for some reason or another, the man didn’t target Narancia, who obviously had the stronger stand. He targeted Leone, who was vulnerable at the moment, due to Moody Blues having started rewinding to the scene they needed.

The pale-haired man readied his fists, but he knew it would be for nothing. This man had a Stand. Any Stand user could look at him and tell.

He exuded a sort of aura that gave him away. Every Stand user did. No matter how well they tried to fit in, they would always have that aura surrounding them.

But Moody Blues, without his volition, stopped her rewinding and launched a punch at the dude’s Stand. His Stand was much larger, and much meaner looking, but Moody didn’t seem to have a care.

She threw her punch with as much ferocity as she could muster and landed it onto the larger Stand.

It did little to deter it. In fact, her arm seemed to be shaking where it was still implanted in the larger Stand’s torso.

Leone had never seen her do that before.

But then he hears Narancia’s cry and the mighty roar of Aerosmith’s propellers. Then, there was the sound of the Stand’s guns going off repeatedly and Moody Blues called herself back before she was a casualty in Aerosmith’s range.

The Stand and the man both became littered with an unimaginable amount of bullet wounds and dropped dead. Aerosmith probably hit a vital organ. Or he bled out. Whichever came first, I guess.

After Leone let Narancia catch his breath, they continued the replay of the scene they needed in the first place. The older man made Narancia promise he wouldn’t tell anyone about what Moody had done to protect him.

The boy reluctantly agreed.

~~~

Guido Mista was a strange man. Or, rather, boy. No older than seventeen, wandering the streets of his hometown of Napoli. It was getting late, but he knew his siblings were out with friends that night. No need for him to go back and watch them that night because nobody was home to watch.

Unfortunately, he had the horrible luck of encountering something that he should never have had to see.

A woman was being beat, her shirt was falling off her shoulders, and there were three men surrounding her.

He felt calm. Which was weird. He should’ve felt enraged, disgusted. How dare anybody do this to someone? It was wrong. It was unjustified. It was disgusting.

But he only felt calm. He walked forward with a staggering amount of confidence and tore the men off of her, respectfully averting his gaze from her.

All three of them were shouting at him, pulling out firearms and firing at him. He stood unusually still, somehow able to direct every bullet away from him. When he looked closer, he could see small creatures on the bullets, kicking them away from him. He didn’t know what they were, but they were helping him, so he didn’t dwell on them.

He used the little guys to his advantage and as they kept redirecting the bullets, he stepped closer to them and disarmed them.

Stealing one of their pistols, he pointed it at them. The two who still had their pistols also directed it at him. They fired at him, but he’d already shot. He wasn’t sure when he’d shot, but he was so sure he did.

Bang!

Four shots. Three dead men.

As Guido came down from the calmness, the high of murder, he let his arm fall down to his side. The woman was rushedly tugging her clothes back on so he averted his glance away from her.

As he observed the scene around him, he realized the gun was humming in his hand, vibrating against the skin of his palm. He was pretty sure guns didn’t do that normally.

He brought it up to face level, seeing the little creatures crawling out of the ammunition. “Mista,” they cried.

“What are you…” he mumbled, holding his palm out so they could climb on.

“We’re you, Mista,” one shouted.

“Yeah! We’re you! We’re hungry, Mista,” another one cried.

“Feed us, Mista!”

~~~

Giorno had always been laughed at, jeered at. For as long as he could remember. But now that everybody wanted to be around him, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He was definitely much more attractive than before.

He remembers being very sick, unable to move, unsure if he wanted the blankets on or off. But when he woke the next morning, his hair was blond and his face was sharper.

Nobody recognized him. Or remembered him, for when he told him their names, there was no trace of recognition there. He wasn’t sure why.

But he was sure about one thing: the ghost following him around. It was gorgeous, if not creepy. It looked sleek and smooth, but when Giorno touched it- him, he thought to himself- he was rough and coarse. He felt like a naked cat.

Giorno didn’t know the ghost had superpowers until he was fiddling with his pencil while he studied, thinking about how much he’d rather be at the frog pond, playing with the frogs.

His pencil slipped from his hands and it became pliant, soft. It morphed into the perfect shape of a common frog. It even croaked!

He leaned down to take a closer look. It was a beautiful frog.

With his hand brought down to its level, it hopped onto his hand.

What a beautiful specimen. A wonderful little pet. He knew, however, that holding the frog for too long in a dry hand would be harmful to the creature, so he set it back down on his desk.

It hopped onto his window sill and sat there for the rest of the time he studied.

He thought this was the most it could do. He was wrong. He was very very wrong. On his way to school from the dormitories one morning, a woman approached him. She was tall. Very tall. Her head was shaved and her eyes were beady.

She stared at him for a long while, not doing anything. When Giorno attempted to walk away, she put her arm out to stop him. “May I…help you, ma’am?”

“Are you Giorno Giovanna,” she questioned, no hesitance.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Who’s asking?”

No sooner after that, she stepped back and a ghost appeared behind her. This ghost was a lot smaller than Giorno’s own, but from the sheer power it resonated, the blond felt it was safe to be cautious.

The ghost readied its arms as if it were going to fight Giorno, which was ridiculous. It was the size of a ragdoll, he could just swat it away. But then, the ghost’s arms and torso and legs had actual spikes growing out of them.

Then, it lunged at him and he rolled to the ground to avoid being cut and tackled.

“Your father and his group of followers took everything from me,” she snarled. “I’ll make sure he pays. By killing his son!”

The ghost attacked him again, firing something at him. He had to duck before it hit him, so he couldn’t get a good look at it.

He didn’t even want to, he just focused on getting to school and away from this psycho woman. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for him. The ghost chased him all the way to his school. He was huffing and puffing clouds of steam against the cold winter air.

“Dio will pay!”

There was another attempt at stabbing him with her stupid ghost thing. He wasn’t in a position that would allow him to move fast enough and his own ghost stirred up in front of him protectively.

He watched his ghost with wariness. What was he doing?

Then, it gently touched a pebble on the ground, watching as it mutated and grew bigger- a tree. A huge sycamore tree. Those don’t even grow natively in Italy, let alone on the side of a canal.

But the woman targeting him huffed indignantly and stomped her foot. “Stop struggling! Your father deserves this! He deserves to suffer!”

She was being unbelievably childish. He didn’t even know his father.

So, his ghost could not only make frogs, but sycamore trees, as well? He wondered if he could make any species of tree or frog…

Her stand continued to bat at him and he continued to evade and dodge every attack. It was tiring. He was going to run out of stamina soon. The woman seemed to be aware, as she smirked and jutted out her hip smugly. “Tired yet, Giovanna?”

He grit his teeth and, as a last resort, had his own ghost create a wall of some sort of vine between him and the lady. She gawked in surprise and he took this moment as an opportunity to regain his stamina for a short moment.

When he looked closer, he realized that these were grapevines. With ripe grapes. He plucked one from the vine and winced as he felt a strand of hair from his head was pulled out. By what, Giorno didn’t know. There was a sinking suspicion that it was from the grape he’d just pulled off the vine. He tossed the grape onto the ground to be safe.

He stood back up and willed his ghost to fly towards her and punch at her stomach. Apparently, she wasn’t expecting it to happen and she grunted with the impact. She flew so far away and he took this opportunity to run. He didn’t bother calling the police, he knew they weren’t much help and by the time they’d get there, he’d probably be dead.

So he just ran and ran and ran away from her. He got to class just as the bell rang and a few other classmates sent him weird glances. He sat in his seat and slumped so he wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. He was sweaty and he was out of breath and he couldn’t even focus in class. And it was only 8:30 in the morning.

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clearcorona · 5 years

Text

playing with fire pt 3 // dabi x fem!reader

Part Two

"Can you not stand so close?" you hissed at the bald man practically breathing down your neck. You despised Enji Todoroki for having him send his men along with you for something as simple as grocery shopping. Oh, how you longed to do such simple errands on your own. You shoved the box of cake mix in his face. "It's cake mix, nothing special."

You rolled your eyes and tossed the box into the carriage, pushing it further down the aisle. You glanced over the items on the various shelves, thinking over what else you wanted or needed.

You turned the corner, only to see a head of fiery red hair. He stood with his back towards you, but you'd recognize it anywhere. Especially when he was wearing that trench coat of his, regardless of the weather.

"Hey, Fuyumi! I have no clue what you're looking for," he called out and tears welled up in your eyes. After four years of solitude, other than the constant bodyguards following you, you never expected to see the same person you were trying to stay away from this whole time.

Your hands itched to run your fingers through his hair and you longed to be in his arms, but you held yourself back, even though to urge was strong. You forced yourself to pull your gaze away, quickly turning your carriage around before you could give in to the temptation.

Your little escape plan was quickly thwarted when you crashed your carriage into an unsuspecting bystander.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you quickly apologized and your eyes widened a bit as you realized just who you had bumped into.

"(Y/N)?" he called out softly, his face morphing into one of shock. He had grown into a fine young man and you hated that you weren't there to see it. You were nearly the same height now, yet you were sure he'd probably get taller as he still had room to grow. You ducked your head, pushing your carriage away.

"I believe you have the wrong person, sorry." You frowned and bit your lip as you continued to make your escape. Shouto quickly grabbed your carriage, stopping you. You were amazed by the strength he had gained in the last four years, but knew now wasn't the time to be impressed. He could easily call over his siblings and all the years you did Enji Todoroki's bidding would be for nothing and the person you loved most would be dead all because of you.

Shouto gave a glance to the men standing behind you, who hadn't done anything but observe. You technically were still in the clear, you hadn't spoken to Touya. "Stay here, (Y/N)."

As soon as Shouto walked away, you abandoned you carriage and bolted. Did Enji place you in the city on purpose? To see if you'd crack? You heard the sounds of feet behind you, knowing Enji Todoroki's men were following and the siblings probably weren't that far from them.

You made it outside, squeezing by pedestrians on the sidewalk, hoping to lose your pursuers.

"(Y/N)!" You suddenly stopped, nearly tripping over your own feet into a young woman who glared at you. You glanced back, seeing the unmistakable red tresses that were once black and the bright blue eyes that always had you mesmerized. You had never thought you'd hear your love call your name again, but here you were.

Your eyes met his in the surge of people and you gave him a small smile. He only seemed more eager to get to you and you were so focused on him that you didn't even notice Enji's men were nearby until they both grabbed you by the arm, dragging you to who knows where. You had bolted in the opposite direction of your apartment, so there was no way you'd make it back without being caught by one of the Todoroki siblings.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you allowed yourself to be pulled away by the your two bodyguards. "Goodbye, Touya... I'm sorry things have to be this way..."

"Damn it!" Touya threw his fist at the brick wall again, not caring about how his knuckles split and bled. "She was right there!"

Fuyumi cringed as her older brother threw his fist against the brick wall again, adjusting her glasses. "Yeah, but she was also running away from us."

"Who do you think those guys were that were with her?" Natsuo asked, kicking at a rock.

"She seemed well off. Those guys' suits seemed pretty expensive," Shouto spoke up, looking over at his oldest brother.

"Do you think that she's with-" Fuyumi began, quickly interrupted by Touya growling and slamming his fist against the brick wall again before turning towards his sister. His eyes burned with fury.

"Don't finish that sentence!" he snapped. The look of fear Fuyumi gave him in return filled him with remorse. Why would you stay with him anyway? He was a monster. "I'm sorry..." Tears welled up in his eyes, slumping against the wall.

Of course the siblings couldn't possibly imagine what he was going through, but they had a hard time interpreting your actions.

"She's been alive all this time and yet she hasn't contacted us? I know this may be hard to believe, but maybe Fuyumi is right. Maybe she did find someone else," Natsuo spoke up.

"You didn't see the way she looked at me...," Touya muttered, not caring about how vulnerable he looked in front of his siblings. "It was like she was happy to see me, I don't know..." He tangled his fingers in his hair, replaying the scene in his head.

"Yeah, but do you still think our father is behind it?" Shouto asked from where he stood. Touya thought back to when he saw you being dragged away by those men, thinking for a moment if he had noticed anything important. He then remembered a small flame embroidered on the collar of the suit jacket one of the men was wearing. He swore he saw the same thing on one of his father's suits.

"Hello? Earth to Touya," Natsuo said, waving his hand in front of his brother's face.

"Looks like we're going to snoop through dear old Dad's closet," Touya said, earning a look of confusion from each of his siblings.

"I'm telling you," you growled, staring at the two way glass in front of you, "I didn't talk to him!" The all white room you were placed in was starting to become stained red with your blood, but you'd endure any amount of pain to make sure Touya and his siblings stayed safe and sound. The guard who was delivering the onslaught of punches to your stomach seemed smug as you spat blood on the ground, trying to at least get some air in your lungs.

You'd love to just lunge at him and beat him to a pulp.

The speaker in the corner crackled as Enji spoke. "You aren't making this any easier, (Y/N)."

"You aren't listening, old man. I talked to Shouto, not Touya. You told me I couldn't talk to Touya. You said nothing about the others," you hissed, wishing you could just punch him right in the face. You were almost positive that he had a smug smile on his face. Of course he wanted a reason to hurt you.

He could easily use you to get to Touya. That monster wasn't even afraid to kill his own children.

"Well, maybe we'll have to change those conditions." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, struggling with your bindings. "There are so many ways I could hurt you, you do realize that, right? How should I start?"

Your stomach filled with dread and you knew there was no way to stop this. No matter what you said or did, Touya would be called to this place in the end and it would be your fault if he got hurt.

"Maybe your eyes? They could get me quite a bit if I sold them." You shuddered at the thought, immediately feeling a prickle of fear at the thought of your eyes being ripped out of their sockets.

"You're sick!"

"Hmm... I believe your heart is worth more. You are decent looking, I suppose. Some might even want parts of your hair. We'll figure it out after my damn son shows up. He's still completely in love with you and it makes him weak."

You knew he was wrong. Touya was the strongest person you knew. He was the one who was bandaging his siblings' wounds and reassuring them everything would be okay. You had even seen him take a beating for something he had nothing to do with. It wasn't just his love for you that kept him standing. It was for his siblings and his mother.

"Newsflash, asshole!" you yelled, glaring at the glass. "Touya isn't weak, you arw. You're too much of a coward that you can't even give me a proper beating." You knew you were probably going to regret that statement, but it was fine. You'd defend Touya to your death.

"Well, if you insist." Your whole body tensed as the crackling of the speakers stopped and the door opened again. Enji's massive body squeezed through the doorframe and you tried to force back the nausea you felt. He could easily snap your neck if he wanted to.

The older Todoroki made a gesture, which caused the man who gave you your previous beating to bow before stepping out of your cell.

"I knew you were all talk. You can't ever shut up. Good to know you're so afraid, you shut your mouth." You dug your nails into your palms, glaring at him. He picked up a large needle from the cart, stepping closer to your bound form. "Let's get started, shall we?"

#no quirks au #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #dabi is a todoroki #mha dabi #dabi bnha #dabi #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #x reader #dabi is touya #touya

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supergirlimagine · 5 years

Text

Who Knew

Funny Thing! I was shuffling through an old Playlist and ‘Who Knew’ by Pink came up. This popped into my Head and wouldn’t let me go until I wrote it. So here you ✌🏽

•

Alex Danvers x Fem!Reader.

Where R was the rebound after Maggie. After the Relationship also fails, they meet again in a Bar 3 years later and are at very different points of their Lifes.

Thanks for Reading🖤

It had been a long and stressful day, a stressful week even, for Alex. All she wanted to do was to grab a quick drink and then pass out in her bed. She stopped at a random bar just a little outside of town and walked over to the bartender waving him down and ordering. She sat at the bar and looked around while she waited.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a familiar face sitting in one of the booths. It’s been 3 years, but she would recognize you anywhere. She weights out her options, you hadn't seen here yet, so she could just run out and never think about this again or she could go over and say hello.

You were sitting with three other guys in the tight space, the one next to you had his arm around your shoulders and was in deep conversation with the other two, while you were just staring blankly ahead. The expression in your face seemed so lost and vacant, it made Alex itch to get to you and hold you close, even if things didn't end so great.

"So, this is it then?" You were standing in the door with your bags packed.

A picture all too familiar to Alex at this point. It had only been 6 months since she and Maggie broke off the engagement and she had meet you shortly after and thought you would be able to fill the hole in her heart. She had finally come to realize that no one else could heal her, if not herself. You guys had a long conversation, which ended with you packing your bags and buying a bus ticket for somewhere that was anywhere but National City.

"This is it. I'm sorry, but all of this... It's just not what either of us need right now."

You always knew you were the rebound of a failed engagement, but never thought it would end like this.

"Maybe if we just talk about it some more. We can try to find a solution?"

"No Y/N. I'm sorry there is nothing left to talk about. It's over."

You were holding on with everything you had. You had never been as happy as you had been in these last months and you were trying to fight for the two of you, not believing it was truly over.

"But Alex..."

"I've never loved you. I honestly think I never will, not like..."

Alex’s words faded off before she looked at the floor in shame, but also relived to finally let out the truth. She had to make you see that this was for the better and she looked up at you for the next part, seeing the heartbreak in your eyes.

“...not like I loved her."

The silence hung thick in the air and tears stung behind your eyes, but you held them in. Not wanting to give her the pleasure of letting seeing them fall.

“I don't ever want to see you again!"

You screamed before turning your back, hurrying out the door, slamming it behind you and never looking back.

---

Alex let the last encounter replay in her head, trying to make up her mind on her next step. The last words you had said to her echoed in the back of her mind, but looking at you now, you just looked sad and uncomfortable. She made up her mind and walked over to your table.

“Y/N?"

You were sitting at the table with your boyfriend and some of his friends, when you heard a voice call out to you. You were in deep thought, you felt like more of a bot these days, but that voice pulled you out immediately. What was she doing here?

You turned around and stared at Alex, it had been three years, but she still had the same effect on you.

"Alex..."

Everyone at the table was suddenly quiet and watched as the two of you started at each other.

Your boyfriend was the first to speak up.

“Who are you, Lady?"

He asked lowly and you cringed on the inside as Alex looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm Alex… I'm uhm, an old friend of Y/N."

That's all the information he really cared about, as he shrugged and went back to talking to his friends, picking up the conversation like they never stopped.

You were left staring at each other until holding eye contact seemed too much for you to handle. You got up on unsteady feet and told your boyfriend you needed some air. He either didn't pick up on your discomfort or just didn't care enough to ask you if you were okay.

"Alright Babe! Just grab some more beers on your way back."

He said and slapped your ass when you got up to leave.

You cringed once more on the inside and stumble past Alex, not looking at her as you head for the door. The cold air hits you as you step outside and you realize how drunk you really are at this point. You take a few deep breaths when that voice calls out behind you again.

"Y/N! Are you okay? Who was that Asshole?"

Anger makes its way through your veins when you hear the concern in her voice.

"Why do you care?"

You turn around a little too fast and lose your footing for a second but manage to catch yourself.

"He's my Boyfriend and he loves me!"

You raised your voice and make sure she understands that you were doing better without her. So much better.

"Oh Yeah?"

She crosses her arms, not believing you for one second.

"Yeah!"

You threw back, well aware you sounded like a child arguing, but not really caring.

"Is that why your arms are bruised, and your make-up is covering up a black eye?"

You subconsciously pull down your sleeves and try to turn your face. How dare she say something like that.

"That's none of your god damn business."

"Y/N.."

Alex eyes soften, and she takes at step towards you, reaching out to touch your shoulder.

"Don't you dare touch me!", you jerked back, the thought of feeling her hands on you again was more than you could handle.

"Alright!" She raised her hands in surrender.

"Fair enough… Just, Y/N, please. I know I have no right and I know I deserve your anger, but you’re not safe, I can see that. So, just let me help you. Let me take you home, where you can sober up and I can help you out of-"

"I don't need your help! Or your pity! I am just fine without you! Screw you for thinking you can just come in and fix me after what you did!"

There was hurt in Alex eyes, but you were too far gone to even care about it.

"Y/N... I know, but-"

Just then the door opened, and your boyfriend stepped outside. Great.

"Hey! What going on out here? I've been waiting on those beers forever."

Alex was about to say something back when you answered in her place.

“Yeah...uhm, sorry. I'll be there in a minute."

"I didn't say a Minute now did I? I said now."

He moves towards you and grabs your arm, making you gasp in pain, while trying to drag you back inside.

He barely had his hands on you when he was abruptly pulled away and pressed face first into the nearest wall, arm twisted behind his back.

"Listen! You better not ever touch her again or you will have hell to pay!"

Alex growls as she instinctively twists his arms more and all he could let out were some pathetic whimpering, which kind of made you happy, but also made you snap back into reality.

"Alex! What the hell! Let him go!"

As stunned as she was at your request, Alex slowly lowered his arm. In his mind, that was the right moment to attack, so he turns around and tried to swing at Alex. However, she easily side stepped him and knocked him out with one quick punch to the face. He stumbled a couple feet and fell against the wall, sliding down and deciding to stay down for now. To drunk and out of it to try and fight back.

"Y/N! Why would you defend him?"

"He loves me!"

"He hurts you!"

"So, did you!"

Your outburst echoes through the alleyway.

“So, did you Alex! You hurt me more than anyone ever has and more than he ever physically could!"

Alex was shocked to see how much you were still holding on to what happened all those years ago.

"You broke me, because you were broken!"

You were in her face now, drunkenly yelling and trying to make your point by pushing your hand against her with every word, which she let you.

“You were broken so you dragged me down with you! And I kept quiet and let you! All this time I was there for you! When you cried over a different woman! When you called out her name during... When you drank to make yourself forget!"

There was no stopping your rage right now Alex knew better then to interrupt you.

"I. Was. There! And then you tell me you never loved me! How fucking dare you!"

You were crying at this point, not even trying to hide your tears from her anymore.

"Y/N... Please, just-"

"No! No Alex! You promised me forever and I believed in everything you said to me! I loved you!"

You scream as you start swinging your arms in a weak attempt to hurt her back, which she easy catches.

"Please just calm down!"

Alex begs as you grab her collar and look into her eyes.

"Why? Why am I never good enough! I'd give you everything."

You look into her eyes again and the world around you is spinning.

“Everything…"

You breathe out and rush forward connecting your lips with hers. She lets you for a short moment before pulling away.

"Y/N… you're drunk. Stop."

You don't listen and pull her closer again, trying to get the feeling of her lips on yours back, but she holds you away.

“Please... Alex, please, I just need…"

Your words turn into sobs and you feel your knees give out, but her strong arms hold you up before pulling you into her chest. You cry… for everything you know you could never have and for what your life has become.

#supergirl #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #alex danvers x reader #alex danvers #alex danvers imagine #reader interactive #reader input

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divineangelix · 5 years

Text

Hiraeth pt.1

Summary: (set in season five) As the daring group left to steer a herd of walkers away from their safe haven, Alexandria, Daryl and Celia become separated. Daryl was far beyond the safety of the walls and Celia was now trapped inside the walls homesick for her love to return to her.

Hiraeth: A concept of longing for home. To some, it implies the meaning of missing a time, an era, or a person

Warnings: fluff, angst, violence

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC

Word Count: 3k+

A triangle of golden light began to seep its way through the shades of the curtainless window. The early rays of the sun coating her exposed skin in sweet honey making her already tanned skin a more even complexion.

As the warmness and illuminating glow reached her eyes they fluttered open showing the vibrance of her light green orbs. With a groggy sigh she brought her palms to her eyes and began to wipe the shield of tiredness away. After she contracted her hands from her face she glanced next to her only to see that the man who was once sleeping beside her had vanished.

Seeing as the sun was still rising Celia knew exactly where her beloved archer had run off to. Throwing the sheets roughly off her person she dragged her feet off the bed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn. As she prepared to leave the house Daryl Dixon was outside in the morning light crouched next to his new bike tampering with greasy parts. A cigarette was evident as he completed his tasks as he held it propped between his lips.

He sucked the smoke deep into his lungs, letting the warm contents of nicotine fill him during the chilly early air. When he woke just minutes ago he felt warmness that couldn’t ever be mistaken for anything else — her. But, now that he has left the house’s aroma he’s left his shinning light behind. As he took another drag he thought about her again. The way she smiles, they way she made him feel safe, made him feel like him; the real him. It wasn’t too long ago that his brother would have bashed himself upside the head for him thinking these romantic thoughts.

His brother never was accepting towards women. He had a strong belief that every woman had a mission double cross him, that they would leave him high and dry, but Celia wasn’t them. She’s not the women that Merle used to surround himself with day in and day out. In some remarkable yet twisted way he could see Merle accepting her as a woman fit to care for his little brother during his absence.

~~~

“That woman, the one that almost broke my damn nose,” Merle grumbled as he stalked towards his little brother, his looming figure sprawling over his shorter one, “She trusts you, all these people do. You used to call people like that sheep,” Daryl could sense the distaste in his brothers tone, “What happened to you?”

Daryl never moved from his spot, planting himself firmly to face his brother, “What happened between you, Glenn, and Maggie?”

“I’ve done worse,” The venom on his tongue made the hunter feel like he was a boy again; taking the blame and the whip for his older brothers mistakes, “Your people look at me like I'm the devil. Now y'all wanna to do the same damn thing I did — snatch someone up and deliver ‘em to the Governor, just like me.”

Daryl’s voice, though quiet, held meaning, “Can't do things without people anymore, man.”

Merle seemed to reject his statement as a look of amusement itched across his face, “That woman’s got ya all kinds a’ messed up, don’t she?”

~~~

In her Daryl found a will to keep going, a strength. He had made an unexpected discovery when he came across her at the quarry. At times he wished he could have comprehended the amount of significance she woman would hold to him when he first laid his eyes upon her as the quarry. Feeling this way about someone was new, his relationship with her was something new. And even though he felt uncomfortable at times he relished the experience and even welcomed it.

His brother always told him that a house with a picket fence was nothing but a dream for a Dixon. But what Merle never realized was that he didn’t need a house or even a picket fence for that matter, Daryl just wanted her and that was enough for him to die happy. As he removed the cigarette from his mouth he blew the smoke into the air, watching as it swiveled and morphed into nothingness. Trapped in thought he continued to stare, not breaking his gaze at his worn down boots.

With a huff he hoisted himself up grabbing a metal zip tie and crouching down to began preparing his newly built motorcycle for the days activities. Only minutes had passed since he brought his attention back to the bike until he was interrupted by the door of the house opening. Familiar sounding boots made their way down the creaky wooden steps and in knowing exactly who it was Daryl opened his mouth to speak.

“So is he okay with it?”

“It was pretty much his idea. Morgan gets it.” Rick responded, his southern drawl mixing with the grogginess of the morning’s humid coating of dew.

Daryl quickly readjusted the zip tie, tightening it to the cold metal of the bike, “It’s got a bed and a bath but it’s still a cage, you know.” He said feeling pity for the man who saved his life.

“He gets it,” Rick reassured, holding his hand above his eyes to block the sun from his view, “He told me what happened with the trucks out there.”

Daryl stood to his feet with a grunt as his muscles adjusted themselves back into place, “He tell you ‘bout those people out there. The ones with the Ws?” He questioned with a slight grumble as he brushed the motor grease off his hands and onto his already dirtied jeans.

“Like the walker we saw, yeah. I’m gonna tell Deanna that we need more watch points and I’m also gonna tell her that we don’t need to go out lookin’ for new people anymore.”

The last words coming out of Rick mouth made Daryl study him more closely, searching for any signs of regret. But he found none and only gave his friend a slight glare, waiting for him to continue.

“You feel different about it?” Rick asked, sending a look not only to Daryl but over his head to the person who was opening the front door of the house they shared.

Daryl cleared his throat before he spoke,“Yeah, I do.”

Rick squinted his eyes at him, the sunlight momentarily blinding him as he carried out the conversation, “People out there, they gotta take care of themselves. Plus, we’ve both got things here that need to be taken care of. Things that we can’t risk loosening.”

Daryl knew exactly who his friend was referring to and had no objections towards his final statement. If he had to choose to save a stranger over Celia he would surly pick his girl. There was no question in his mind, it was her or nothing.

“Well, good morning to you.” Rick greeted, a genuine smile reached the corners of his mouth as a spark of joy flashed deep in the blue of his eyes.

Celia smiled as she held Judith to her hip with care, “Good morning to you too!”

Celia walked down the porch steps, barley making a sound as she kept her steps light. As the woman walked onto the pavement and into the sunlight the brown hair on top of her head absorbed the warm rays as it was pulled back into a messy bun. The two men watched with a steady gaze; Rick keeping his eyes glued on the baby in her arms and Daryl watching the caretaker with a look of pure admiration.

~~~

Celia knew the moment she saw him at the quarry that he’s been through a lot throughout his life, anyone could see that. Even though she was always warned to stay away from this certain intimidating individual she just couldn’t find it in her power to do so. But after she saw him hold Carol back when she tried to run to her dead but still walking daughter she felt something spark in her. She could see he was a decent person and if she could guess, knowing that simple fact made her drawn to him even more. When they were in the line of fire she always found herself feeling safe by his side, finding herself by him whenever they were one the run.

The mess at the CDC crossed her mind in a constant replay as she walked the distance from the farmhouse to the isolated camp that the man had set up only a week ago. He took her arm, dragging her out of the building and into the safety of his truck, the two of them watching in terror as the building exploded in a fiery wave with his arm still holding her tightly to his chest.

When she first appeared in front of him with figity hands she wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him, but she knew he was in pain from not only an arrow wound but also knowing that the wound from that arrow would forever mark him for nothing. There was no little girl to show for his effort and she felt the need to check on him.

Before Daryl had the chance to acknowledge her presence Celia spoke, “How’re you holding up?”

At first the unexpected woman had startled him, as he sat against the log of his camp sharpening his knife. His blue eyes darted to her green ones, giving her a smug and judgemental gaze. Before he could say anything snappy to the woman she made her way to him and sat down with a kind smile. He found himself fall motionless, afraid that if he moved a little too much that his shoulder would brush against hers. No words formed in his mouth, they all fell away the instant she showed her face.

She just sat there without saying a word enjoying the new scenery clueless of the masked fear that had befallen upon him with her sitting next to him.

“What do you think yer doin’ ‘er?” He tried, amazing himself that he could speak.

His voice was meant to sound angry, but it came out more gentle than he had expected. She shrugged her shoulders, folding her knees to her chest as she rested her chin ontop of them to look out across the field, “As I said before — I’m checking to see if you’re okay.”

He was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why the hell wouldn’t I be alright?”

This time it was Celia’s turn to meet his darkening blues with confusion. One glance was all it took for her to feel weak, to feel that pull to fight back. Her mind began to cloud as her heart thumped against her ribcage.

“If you’re saying that you’re alright, it’s bullshit.” She whispered, ignoring her anxieties as she heared her voice drifting away into the passing breeze.

His eyes didn’t narrow, they didn’t judge, they didn’t shoot daggers, they remained calm while meeting hers. Under his intense gaze it felt as if his piercing blues were interrogating her seemingly innocent orbs. His eyes trailed away from her eyes to the features of her face, trailing them with his eyes. A few moments passed before he looked away from the flustered woman and tuned his concentration back to his blade, sliding the sharpener down the already whetted steel.

“Guess yer right, I am spittin’ bullshit.”

“Was she already awake?” Rick asked walking up to his daughter to place a loving kiss on the hair that was fluffed and frizzy on top of her head.

Celia shook her head as she stared down at the soft blonde curls that bounced around the small child’s head, “I woke up and heard her crying. Didn’t want this little angel waking anyone up.”

Rick nodded his head, “You think you could take care of her for a few more minutes? I’m about to talk to Morgan, see if he could be one of us.”

Judith reached her small hand out pulling on the leathered charm necklace that accompanied Celia’s neck. Making her shift her attention away from Rick and down to the curious child with a bright smile. The necklace was the one that Daryl had found on his first run as Alexandria’s new recruiter with Aaron. He remembered being trapped in that car with the walkers gnawing on the inch thick glass that made up the windows. Assuming that there was no way to escape his fate he pulled out a crushed up cigarette and gripped the heart shaped necklace tightly in his clenched fist. He began to think of her to calm his nerves as death was only inches away from him, fogging up the windows. In seeing the new piece of jewelry hanging around her neck Rick spared a glance away from Judith to the man behind him, staring at his friend with a knowing glimmer behind his eyes.

A small cry soon interrupted the birds soft hymns of the morning and Celia bounced the little girl correcting her cries with a flood of giggles, “She’s probably hungry, might as well feed her some breakfast,” She looked up locking her gaze with Daryl’s, “Stay safe you two.”

And just like that the woman made her way back into the house with a mission to feed the hungry and upset child. When the door closed it left the two men as they were before, with themselves. “You’ve found something great, something to keep you going. I’m proud of you.” After Rick turned towards the so called jail house he didn’t need to look back to know that had left the redneck with a slight blush to his cheeks.

Inside the house Celia walked into the kitchen keeping her steps quiet for the sake of the sleeping people that remained upstairs. She kept Judith in her arms as she searched for their breakfast occasionally taking to her as she gathered the necessary items. Even though the child was cranky she was also hungry, and those things combined were never a good combination, “What’re you wanting, Judie.” She coaxed as she searched the cabinets.

With an exaggerated gasp and beckoned the small girl to look at her fake surprised face with wide teary eyes, “How about some apple sauce!”

The baby’s innocent eyes were no longer glassy as she saw the preparation of her breakfast. Celia put the remaining amount of apple sauce back in the cabinet and gently closed it, again not wanting disturb anyone, especially Carl, knowing that the boy probably stayed up late to finish up the comic that he had found in the attic a few weeks ago. She pulled out a clean spoon from the drawer and hummed a soft tune as she walked to the table with Judith and the apple sauce in hand.

She sat herself down on the wooden dining room chair with Judith curling into her chest as she sat on her lap. With a small smile Celia managed to feed the sleepy child with a few tricks.

“Are you ready for the airplane?” She questioned, swirling the spoon that was filled with cinnamon flavored goodness to Judith’s mouth, “One, two,” She counted down with the little girl once again giggling at her precious innocence, “Three!”

The mushy food made its was into Judith’s mouth and she downed it with no problem, finding entertainment in the older woman’s tactics at getting her fed. With the front door opening the two them looked up to see Daryl walk in with his crossbow in his hand. Daryl gave her a nod, as he acknowledged her presence and without hesitation he leaned the weapon against the wall and he walked to her pressing a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Mornin’, C.” He mumbled against her lips just before he pulled himself away.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at the man, a delicate smile snaking it’s was upward, “Morning.”

“See you got Lil’ Asskicker to calm down.”

The smile disappeared as she covered the small girl’s ears, “Daryl don’t, she’s picking up words.” She hushed, seeing that Judith was reaching out to him with her small arms.

Daryl plucked the child off of Celia’s lap and held her to his chest. She laughed and put her little hands on his face, feeling the scratchy stubble that was on his chin with her little hands.

“Ya know Rick’s arranging a meeting with everyone today. Says there’s a valley of walkers headed this way. He wants a group to go out there and lead ‘em away somehow.” Daryl mumbled, keeping his eyes on the child in his arms.

Judith found comfort in him and snuggled into his chest, gripping the fabric of his plaid button up shirt with her hands, “Are you going to volunteer?” She whispered not daring to look into his eyes, already knowing the answer to her question.

“Mm.” He responded gruffly, pacing to the available chair next to Celia.

With a content sigh he sat down with Judith, who was close to sleep as she listened to the melody of his beating heart, “You know I can’t just sit here and let them do all that on their own. These people, their inexperienced. The moment they go out there they won’t know what the hell their doin’. Rick needs everyone whose able pitchin’ in,” He reassured, keeping his voice low.

Judith soon fell asleep, feeling the rumble of his low voice against her ear that was pressed to his chest, “You’re good with her, “ Celia whispered, changing the subject, “You’d be a good father, Dixon.”

“Ain’t never been a good enough role model fir that.” He muttered, the tips of his ear growing red with embarrassment at her compliment.

“Now, that’s not true.” She whispered, leaning over to place a sweet kiss to his cheek, “Want me to get you anything for breakfast. Seeming that you’re somewhat occupied at the moment.”

Daryl nodded his head now feeling the emptiness of his rumbling stomach, “Yes, ma’am.”

Tags-

@jodiereedus22 @crossbowking @nikki082489

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead imagine #thewalkingdead #twd x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus #twd daryl #daryl x reader #twd imagine

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ain-t-bovvered · 5 years

Text

Epiphany 2

read first ACT 1

EDIT: @waywardbaby

Summary: Less than two years later, you finally passed the men of letters’ initiation and, finally, you now set foot in America eager to be reunited with the Winchesters. But if Dean thought that you spent your days only with your nose in books and hands in monster’s guts, he was dead wrong. Your mission? Something that the British branch tried and failed miserably, or at least that’s what they told you anyway.

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel and Jack

Warnings: slow burn guys…slow burn. Also, some fluff, humor, feels and angst.

Some laughs and some shuffling later Cas and Jack left you and Dean alone again. After a little moment of awkward silence, during which a particularly interesting drop of condense rolled down the neck of your beer bottle, Dean clicked his tongue annoyed.

“By the way, big fan of how you masterfully avoided any talks about that scar of yours.” he blurted out.

“Well, nobody asked.”

You stood up, the old stool protesting, slowly moving in front of him. He removed his legs from the table as you bent over, both your hands on the armrests of his chair. Leveling your eyes to his, you saw how he tried to hide how his breath caught in his throat and his own eyes flicked to your mouth. You smiled because, holy shit, and then leaned in, grabbing the coffee and the Moka beside him.

“Take me to the kitchen. I’ll show you how to use this.”

Dean blinked confused before registering what you had just told him, quickly scrambling to his feet as the chair legs scraped the floor.

“Don't use tap water, and fill it to the valve, not over and not under it. Just exactly in the middle.”

“Yeah yeah, how many rules are there?” he said, watching you from behind, bending over your shoulder. “I want to drink coffee, not defuse a bomb”

You shushed him, “Do as I say and you’ll thank me later”, you went on, opening the packet of grounded coffee. “Pass me a spoon, would ya?” you asked him without turning towards him, while you tied your hair up and out of the way. The spoon came hovering in front of your eyes, Dean’s breath was on your neck, and shivers spread down your spine.

“Y-you need to put the coffee in carefully, ok?” you faltered, “... however, there are two different opinions. We DO like to tear each other apart over that”

Dean was watching what you were doing, intensely but he was also distracted.

Dean’s thoughts, even if he was, barely, paying attention, were all over the place. She was talking nonstop, about this and that…

Jesus, whatever!

He actually did not care right now. She was here. How long had it been since he last saw her? Almost two years? It certainly felt a lot more than that, but she looked the same and completely different at the same time. There was something offbeat in the way she carried herself. However, when he saw her blushing again he knew she was still the girl who mumbled and hit her head under a table and spilled special whiskey on his hand.

She definitely looked like she could still eat his face if she didn’t like what came out of his mouth and he was pretty sure she could slap him silly if he gave her a good enough reason, and holy shit he got real close to that.

When he had first seen her, in his bedroom, he had thought he was hallucinating or something. Then she manhandled him and he knew right away that she was real.

Then came anger when he saw her tattoo and what the fuck. She said she was deep in books and guts not guns and also guts.

Oh, she’ll hear him alright he had thought before she came back with needles and anti-Vamp biotic or whatever that was. And she looked so proud, all twinkling eyes and pure confidence, his resolutions went flying right out the window.

She was doing well, she looked well. Maybe just a spank or two.

He gulped, suddenly feeling his mouth dry. No, okay maybe don’t go there Winchester.

When Sam had left to get dinner, he had a moment to let his eyes wander over her, taking her in. Fieldwork surely looked good on her. She looked strong even in her ridiculous height. Layers of clothes didn’t hide what all that training did. She looked sturdy, she was wearing jean shorts, her thighs tanned and full and-

“The fuck is that?” his eyes had widened at the sight of a long scar. He dropped between her knees without thinking, and only now did he realize how their position must have looked to Sam’s eyes.

He cleared his throat as her fingers brushed along his when he handed her the tablespoon.

“Actually that life found me, you found me ….”

He never had what she had and she was willingly diving into this life. They did encourage it when they had left, but she had made it clear that she would just help, not actively participate, or at least...be that involved that would justify a scar that big.

What else has she been lying about? Was she alone? How many times did he risk los- had she risked her life?

“OH SHUT UP! You want to know what I’d be if I hadn’t met you? I would be dead, in my car, that night. You saved my life and I’m proud of what I’m doing with it… Do not fucking spit your fucking contempt on it”

Her outburst caught him completely by surprise. There she was, standing proud, teary eyes, lips trembling, red-faced and she looked magnificent. His anger had melted into something else, pooling at the pit of his stomach. He had wanted nothing more than to take her there and then. He didn’t care that Sam was there. He had taken a moment before he followed her, but not before throwing Sam a glare to stay, the fuck out of that. His brother had lifted his arms in surrender and shaken his head, and fuck that, Dean saw the smirk on his face.

He had found her packing the few things she had brought in earlier.

Oh, hell no!! She wasn’t going anywhere. For once he had decided that he was going to swallow his pride just a bit. She smiled at him and his insides melted once again.

Her face at the sight of Jack had been priceless, and she had brought nougat for Satan’s baby. Yep, the kid had been so grateful for the gift, he kissed her and before he could stop himself he actually shouted at him in front of everyone.

Smooth Winchester! Real smooth!

The last night he had seen her replayed in his mind. Her skin, and scent, his fingers through her hair and how his name sounded, whispered and gasped from her lips when he had pressed her against the wall, her whole body opening for him and-

when Sam had told her she could stay, he saw her hesitation.

“…this is your home too, now” he blurted out without thinking, and it almost scared him how true that felt.

And now there they were, making coffee at the crack of the fricking dawn, probably trying to fight jet lag as he scooted closer, hands itching to touch her.

“So you have two choices here…” you continued trying not to think about Dean looming behind you and his warm breath on your neck, “... pack your coffee very tight and once you reach the edge smooth it down. Or you could gently let the coffee settle by itself and just let it breathe. In my opini-” you stuttered feeling his nose grazing your skin, his arms moving around you, hands resting on the counter.

“Dean?”

“Mmm, your opinion?” he murmured and you could be mistaken but you were almost certain he had buried his nose in your hair and maybe inhaled.

You cleared your throat, “I - in my opinion, the first method gives you a stronger and sharper taste. The second makes the taste smoother and gentler. So it depends on what are you in the mood for…”

“I can think of a few things,” he said low, and you swear you could hear the smirk on his stupid mug. Spinning around you faced him, hands bent behind you on the counter, looking up in his dark, hooded eyes gazing down at you. You just needed to stretch on your tippy toes to…

“OH.. " you cocked an eyebrow, “I’ll be happy to listen to those…” your hand lifted to his face, brushing his cheek lightly before gently grasping his ear. After all, two can play this cruel game and tugging him down to your level, added: “... after you make me the perfect coffee as I just explained it to you.”

Half an hour later, you were satisfied.

“Mmm yep! This is great. I can almost taste you” you said moaning, around escaping your lips that may not quite be appropriately fitting a coffee sampling.

Dean choked in his mug, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I-I m-mean ...I can tell this has been made by you”

“Oh, so you could tell who made you coffee?” the corners of his eyes crinkled.

“To some extent, yeah. Everybody can tell different people making coffee”.

He leaned back and crossed his arms, “Ok, close your eyes then and tell me which one is which.''

You felt him putting a cup in each of your hands. You slowly sipped from both. After a moment you held up the right one, opening your eyes.

“This is mine”

“How in the hell …”

“Because it tastes different. Here…” he took a sip from the cup you held to him and then one from the other.

“This is good,” he said, lifting yours. “Tastes soft in the beginning and then bam! All the flavor hits you at the end. That one though,” he said pointing at the one he had made, “That one just tastes bitter.”

“That’s not true. It’s rich and complex. You’d think you know what you are tasting, and end up with something totally different” you pointed at yours, “mine is just…bland”

“Let’s just agree to make each other’s coffee?” he offered.

“Yeah, I think it’s better” you chuckled.

“So how long you planning on staying?” he asked peeking from above his cup.

“I - I, uh, don’t know. For as long as I’m gonna be useful? Actually, I’m here because I sorta um …lied to my bosses...?”

“Lied?” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, I guess I told them I was going to…sort of ...train …you” your voice lowered almost to a whisper, and you blushed deeply.

“I - 'm sorry what?” he laughed, “Did I hear that right?”

You bumped your forehead on the hard cold table embarrassed. “I needed an excuse to leave my post and this was the best I could come up with!”

“…so you said” he had another fit of laughter, “that you were going to train American hunters?” His eyes gleamed as he continued, “And they believed you? Damn, Y/n!”

“Well…I… uh... volunteered to bring you some new equipment and knowledge. And before you say anything, they don’t know that I was talking about the Winchesters.”

“Why?”

You fidgeted with the handle of your cup, not looking at him in the eyes. “Well ...you two are pretty famous both as hunters and as legacies, and not in the best way. If I had told them you were my contacts they would have never let me leave-”

“Oh…?” he said smugly.

“-not that I think the same!” you quickly added, “I have the utmost respect in what you did and do. I've told you that already.” You looked down at your wringing hands “Don’t ever doubt that” you whispered trying to show him how truthful you were.

“I know you do,” he said softly. Your hands itched to grab his but you didn’t know where you stood.

Were you friends? More than that? Lots of time had passed and things were muddy and he was being his flirty, asshole self as always but-

“Um, I guess I’m gonna crash with you guys for a bit, if... that’s ok”

“I told ya, this is home, you can stay as long as you want”

“Thanks” you smiled. “I’m gonna start unloading my car, for my luggage at least. The rest, I can do tomorrow.”

Putting your empty cup in the sink you walked toward the exit.

“You can go to sleep, you know?” you looked over your shoulder when you saw Dean tailing you.

“I know. It’s fine. I’ll help”

“Your shoulder’s fucked”

“‘Tis but a scratch,” he replied with a British lilt, his stupid grin brightening up his eyes, and damn those eyes, and his smile, and his whole face.

You laughed climbing up the stairs “Don’t quote Monty Python to me”.

Once out, you walked to your rental car and grimaced even before you heard Dean’s whistle.

“Nice car” he taunted.

“Yeah, I know. Well, I just needed to drive here, and since you brought it up, how about you find me a nicer one? “

“We have a full garage here. Some cars need a little kick but nothing I can’t fix.” he proudly said.

You opened the trunk and dragged out a big trolley and another big backpack that you gave to Dean. Easier to carry on his good shoulder.

Walking in the sterile green corridor, you tried to be as silent as possible. The acoustic must be terrible here, and you didn’t want to wake up Sam.

“You can choose any room, Sam’s down there, mine’s number 11 from before.”

“…yeeeah ...I'll need one with a bathroom for myself. You know…one bunker, two guys, one angel, and the antichrist. A girl needs her space.”

“Oh…sure. Mmm, there should be a service bathroom, I think it’s mid corridor? Aaah, you’ll find it. But ..ah...showers are common. No luck there until you say otherwise, though” he said wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, sure Dean,…just to be safe, if there is a towel on the handle, please knock “ You chose a room that was almost at the same distance from both of them. Opening the door, you grimaced.

“Spartan” you sighed entering and threw the suitcase on the bed. A cloud of dust rose and tickled your throat and you coughed waving your hand in front of you. “I guess I know what else I'll do tomorrow”

You turned to Dean who was waiting at the door. He handed you the backpack and put his hands in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yes, Dean?” you asked while unpacking.

“You…you know that I’m happy… we… we are happy that-” he waved a hand towards you.

You stopped to look at him, “Of course” you smiled. "You just need to stick it into your head that I make my own choices. I’ll be fine. I need to finish unpacking and you should go to sleep”

“Yeah…ok. Uhm…goodnight then”

“Night”

You tossed and turned in your new bed, the jet lag hitting you hard and probably the dawn coffee hadn’t been a great idea. You had hoped that maybe listing all the things you were gonna do tomorrow would help, but nope, you were still wide awake. The phone said it was just past 5 am; you could explore the bunker and maybe make breakfast for everyone...?

Tossing your blanket aside you padded silently down the corridors, shivering as the cold tile floor hit your naked feet. Nobody had switched off the lights, thank god and now you were wondering if they ever switched them off?

Arriving in the main room, the one that looked like an old library, you lost yourself between the shelves. This room alone had so many rare things and so much knowledge that was thought to be lost back at home. Maybe you could ...no… what the hell? You put the book back in its place with a loud thud.

“Y/N, you are not gonna steal these books, you are not gonna steal these books, you are n-” you repeated to yourself in a mantra-like tone.

“You want to steal books?”

“Wh - Jack! Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack”

You jumped at the sudden voice behind you. His face suddenly grew worried, “You need a doctor? W - wait, I’ll call Castiel to-”

“No no, I’m joking! I was joking” you said quickly as you gripped his arm.

“Why would you joke about that? It’s a serious human, medical emergency,” he said confused and honestly, he looked offended. You put your hand on his shoulder.

“No, you are right. Sorry if I scared you. It’s just a figure of speech”

You saw his brain gears working to assimilate the new information. God, he really looked like a normal kid, a normal confused kid with so much power. Your hands itched. No, it’s - he’s not another monster to put on your table. He is…

“Jack …what are you doing awake anyway?”

“I don’t sleep much and I heard some noises. What are YOU doing up?”

“Ah, jet lag, can’t sleep; I was looking for something to pass the time before breakfast. Tell me, you know the bunker well?”

“Yes “

“Great, want to show me around?”

Jack showed you all the rooms and sections of the bunker. They even had an indoor shooting range. The garage made you giddy and you already eyed one of the bikes, the black Norton Commando. Your eyes were hooked on that when you felt Jack scooting to you. Looking at him, confused, you saw him eyeing the black Impala that was parked inside.

“It’s just a car, Jack”

“Dean said I can’t go near her. He calls her baby and treats her like she’s a person. I don’t think that’s normal”

“No, no, it’s not.”

Chuckling, you approached the car, Jack anxiously trying to stop you. You let your hand slowly caress the sleek, polished, black hood and you peeked inside. It really was a gorgeous car.

You went out of the bunker, enjoying the crisp morning air and you paused to watch the sun rising. You felt at home and you were so happy right now.

“Say Jack…?” you began, facing him as he squinted his eyes at the first sun rays of the new day, “... care for a quick drive?”

The phone buzzed a couple of times and you thought nothing of it. Probably your parents asking about minor stuff and that could easily wait.

“After last year Dean doesn’t like me going out without telling.” Jack was nervous but at the same time, he looked around the store excited even to be the one pushing the cart.

“Yeah well, I’m not Dean, am I? Just stay close ok?”

“I will “

Jack looked like an excited kid, pushing the cart between the aisles, eyes sparkling as you asked him to choose the cereal, while you looked for something that resembled what you knew about American breakfast. He came back with 4 different kinds, face falling as he told you he couldn’t decide. You just took all four and tossed them in the cart.

You let a fascinated Jack put the items on the rolling mat while you went to the other side to bag the groceries, getting confused looks from people because you refused help to do that. ‘I can bag my own, damn, groceries, thank you very much’ you thought.

After paying, you also let him park the cart with the others, laughing when he connected them and looked at you all proud, waving the coin. He picked the bags from you and walked to the car. Suddenly the screech of tires broke the silent morning in the mostly empty parking lot and you jumped, startled as Dean’s car stopped right in front of you.

The three jumped out, a scary look on Dean’s face, a worried one on Sam’s and you could not tell what was on Cass' face. Amusement and something that looked like he was gonna spank the two of you.

“Y/N, what the fuck ?”

“Wh-?” you didn’t have time to respond and Dean was in your face, Sam trying to get between you two.

“What happened? “ you asked, startled

“This! This is what happened,” Dean stated gesturing between you and Jack. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You and Jack shared a look “…pancakes?”

“Pancak-” Dean began and he had to stop himself from freaking out. “Ok…you can’t take Jack to buy groceries alone”

“Why? “

Dean threw his arms in the air, exasperated.

“Y/N…” Sam pushed his brother to the side, “... we woke up and you were gone and Jack was gone too. We were kinda worried”

“Oh...I’m sorry, next time I’ll leave a note “

“There is no ne-” Dean began.

“Dean, it’s fine. Nothing happened.” Cass’ calm voice interrupted him. You watched them, and suddenly it clicked, and you peered at Jack who looked guilty and kinda sad. Your heart broke but he was still the most powerful being in the known universe and you took him shopping for groceries.

“Oh ...I see, guys I’m sorry. In my defense…” you grabbed Jack and pushed him in front of you. “Look at him! Look at this face” you put your arms around him. “He would never hurt me, right?” you asked and he looked at you from above his shoulder, nodding shyly.

“I can’t believe this,” Dean said rubbing a hand on his face. He breathed out and looked at you. “Get in your car, we’re going home. Jack, jump in,” he said, opening the passenger door of Baby.

“He can ride with me” you challenged, lifting your chin “I promised to teach him how to drive later”.

“Okay Jack, now slowly pour the batter in the center. Try to keep it as round as possible.”

Leaning on the counter near the stove, you watched Lucifer’s kid, cooking pancakes, his tongue peeking out his lips in concentration. “When you see bubbles at the edges, flip it over quickly as I showed you.”

He looked at you panicked when the first bubbles started to appear, and carefully picked up the half-cooked pancake, flipping it over flawlessly. His head snapped up at you, mouth opened with amazement and your fists shot in the air triumphantly. “You did it! Nice job” you opened your palms waiting. He looked confused, “Dude, slap your hands on mine! Come on! Don’t leave me hanging “.

Dean‘s head popped in the kitchen right at that moment. “We hungry here”.

“Almost done. Jack, can you take those to the table? I’ll join in a moment.”

Dean started to follow him.

“Deeean…” you chanted, “... can you help me with something here” your tone glacial, now.

“S-sure. Um- whatcha need?”

“I need…” you turned to face him smiling sweetly, hands behind on the counter, “... to tell me, how did you manage to find us”.

You watched as he shifted awkwardly on his feet. “You put a tracking device somewhere in my shit, right?”

His shoulders sagged and you exhaled “It’s not my phone because it would have been neutralized, so what?” your face contorted in disbelief, “Is it my car? Did you bug my car?”

He did not say a thing but his expression told you everything. “Seriously?!.... Oh my God, don’t you trust me?”

“What? No, of course, I trust you, don’t be stupid!” he retorted and you blinked at him, “Uh...sorry...we all do. We had already tested if your GPS worked but it didn’t...”

“So, you bugged my car?”

You turned around to pick up the pitcher with the freshly squeezed orange juice and walked up to him, looking like you wanted to tell him something and he lowered himself.

On your tiptoes, you brought your lips near his ear and grazing it because you, too, are a little shit sometimes, and whispered, “Next time just ask me or I’ll smack you so hard that not even Castiel can raise your ass from where I’ll send you.

“Yes ma’am,” he stuttered.

Patting his injured shoulder a little bit harder than you should but believing that he deserved it, you joined the others.

The table in the library looked great. A huge pile of steamy pancakes in the middle, fresh bite-size cut fruit, greek yogurt, because Sam, Nutella and the juice alongside the still fuming family sized Moka. Sam was already piling fruits into his yogurt bowl, Dean hadn’t even sat yet that he already had his hands full of pancakes, bouncing the stack from hand to hand because they were still hot, the entire jar of Nutella under his arm.

“Leave some for us, would you?” you said to Dean who was spreading a nauseating quantity of chocolate cream between the layers.

“This jar is-” he said looking at the number on it “-500g…whatever that means. I think it’ll be enough” you snatched it from his hands and passed it to Jack who thanked you and did the exact same thing that Dean had.

“Jack…are you sure you can eat all of that? “

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Sam “he’s imprinted on Cass and Dean and has been imitating them since his birth “

“Oh, that’s why he kissed me yesterday,” you said just to be a bit mean to Dean who was currently choking. You poured him some coffee while turning to Jack, “I mean, you must have seen him kiss some girls. Please, tell me that’s all you saw”

“Do we need to talk about that?” Dean said, his voice still strained. “Now?!”

“Yes, that happens on cases. Sam always takes me to get ice-cream or at the movies… he says-” his forehead furrowed, “-he says that it’s best if we wait a bit before going back to the motel, but every time we come back Dean is sleeping drunk and clothed. I don’t understand”

“Dude! Come on!!” Dean groaned.

You snorted, and the coffee stuck in your nose.

“Is that everything?” Dean grunted, putting down the last case. Straightening up, he massaged his hurt shoulder. “What’s all this stuff, anyway?”

“Equipment.”

You crunched down and opened one of the crates, Dean and Sam peering down curious. At the sight of piles of books and manuals, Dean’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“You think I would have been able to go on a plane with all the weird shit without problems? They shipped all the toys in a container. They should arrive in a few days”

“Toys? What toys?” Suddenly Dean’s eyes sparkled.

“Most of it, you’ve already seen from the British. The rest is mostly prototypes I was helping with. Shouldn’t really have taken them out the lab but, what the hell? They don’t know what you have to face. They could be more useful to you than to them”. You passed the manuals to Sam’s eager hands. “Now, can you show me an empty room you don’t use so I can set up my stuff?”

The next 3 hours were spent setting up a makeshift lab with what little you were able to bring from HQ. Jack offered to help and he was now sitting on a chair while he checked the list. “Is that everything?” you asked, clapping your hands to get rid of some dust.

“I…think so “

“Let me see.” You walked behind him and scanned the list. “Yep, that’s everything. Thank you, Jack.”

He smiled proudly. You really couldn’t see evil in him. Your eyes fell on the exposed skin on his neck and your hand twitched. If you could just take a bit of his blood…

“what’s all this crap?” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your trance and you looked up at him.

“Your new lab!” you announced, gesturing around, proudly.

“The new what, now?” he walked in and looked around. “Not to be an asshole sweetheart, but we don’t need this stuff.”

Your smile fell, before frowning. “You say that now, but after I’ll show you how this works you’ll thank me. Besides …” you said walking up to him, “... this is just a little one. It only has the basics. You’ll learn in a flash, don’t worry and I translated all the procedures”

“Y/N, we are hunters…” he began.

“And I’m a lab nerd, I know. But…” you turned to watch the room, “... this could help you with the medical problems and… ” you faced him again, “...preventing nasties, ok?”

“Such as..?”

“…Mmm, like… not having to worry about vamp blood accidentally falling in your mouth or, even better, werewolves’ bites. You inject this-” you said pulling out a vial and shaking it in front of his eyes, “-and no worries. You are safe for up to 4h from doggie genes. Awesome right?” you said wiggling your eyebrows.

“…that’s…ok, yeah that’s actually pretty sweet, but ...why needles, Y/N? Aren't there any…vitamins, gummies?”

“….-then there’s this spray that can partially transform your scent to nonhuman or something. It confuses the nose,” you said waving a can to him. “Oh, oh and this! Oh, this is one of my favorites. Need blood to draw a sigil or some spells? Forget about cutting yourself and….” he and Jack watched as you went around the room grabbing things and dropping them in a pile in Dean’s arms.

Suddenly Cass appeared on the door, “I think Sam has a case”

“Really?!” you stopped with another one of your tools mid-air, throwing it to Dean, who barely caught it and followed Cass.

“She’s very energetic” Jack commented beaming to Dean, who stared down at his full arms and at the door where you disappeared.

“Yeah, …she is” he answered smiling softly, before almost dropping one of the vials. “Aaah, crap-”

When Dean, followed by Jack, arrived in the war room he came to a harsh halt making Jack almost crash into his back. As Sam was explaining the case, you had your elbows propped up on the light table, stretched to reach the laptop laying in the middle. Your hips swaying casually as you listened to what Sam was saying, unaware that the shorts had ridden up your thighs. His hand flew up to cover Jack's eyes, and he cleared his throat. You straighten up smiling at Sam and spun around.

“I’ll go grab my things. Sam’s gonna update you.” hopping past him you heard him yelling at your back:

“To the car in 20 …and change your pants!”

“…and change your pants” you mocked while shimmying out of your shorts. “Like, I don’t know any better”. Hopped to squeeze in your leggings, you felt your heart beating fast, excited for your first real hunt with them. A chance to prove your worth, finally! Maybe after this, Dean would stop being an asshole. Grabbing your medical kit and duffel bag, you stopped by the new lab and grabbed a few things. You were going to hunt what was probably rogue werewolves. Should you bring…

“Maybe I should ... yeah, ok.” You went back to your room and dragged out the soft case from under the bed, which you had hastily placed there, the night before.

“Hello beautiful “ you cooed, stroking the straps across your chest.

You found everyone in the garage. Jack and Castiel, you noticed, had no luggage.

“You not coming?” you asked, disappointed.

“No Y/N. I and Jack will stay here for this one”

“Why?”

“It’s probably a milk run, nothing fancy. They can rest this one out and focus on the search for mom” Sam told you, leaning out the passenger seat.

“We’ll stop along the way for a bit before going to Grantsburg” Dean called from the driver seat, “get in”

“Where are we stopping? “ you yelled over the music. Dean lowered the volume, looking over his shoulder to you.

“Sioux Falls “

“Oook, why?”

“It’s a 10h drive to Grantsburg. We’ll stop to rest and visit a friend.”

“Another hunter?”

“And a sheriff and a friend of ours,” Sam added.

You nodded and caressed the leather seats, Dean’s eyes watching from the rear-view mirror. “This car is gorgeous, by the way…” you mused and heard Sam scoffing and Dean, pleased, hummed gently as he patted the dashboard, “...and you have an unhealthy relationship with it,” you added, earning a laugh from Sam and glare from Dean.

The rest of the drive passed slowly, listening to the same 3 cassettes. By the look Sam gave you, you realized that suggesting something else was out of the question. Like, not even try to ask, it's out of the question, kinda look. Finally after a drop of temperature that made you put on your old ratty jacket, and the “Welcome to Sioux Falls” sign, Dean parked outside a simple, little house.

You slid out of the car slowly, groaning, stretching your legs painfully. “Man, I’m not used to these long drives “

“How do you travel long distances back home?” Dean asked retrieving your duffel bag and swinging it on his good shoulder.

“Humans have these amazing inventions called airplanes, you can cover great distances in 1⁄4 of the time”. He mumbled something while Sam simply shook his head. You followed them to the door and watched as a short-haired woman appeared before they could even knock.

“Hey, guys! Couldn’t mistake that car’s sound for anything else.” She hugged them both, warmly. “How are things?”

“Oh, you know Jody. No rest for the hunters. This…” Dean said moving aside, “... is Y/N. We told you about her, yes?”

Jody looked at you with a critic's eye. You smiled uncomfortably, her gaze quickly softening, as she offered her hand.

“Hi…I’m Y/N” you repeated as you took it, smiling.

“Jody Mills... they told me you are Men of Letters?” she asked you while inviting you in.

“More like Ladies of Letters, from the family that initiated me. Ladies run things where I come from”

“Love that!” She closed the door and pointed you to the couch where Dean was already slouched on, Sam occupying the armchair which although quite spacious, looked extremely small with that soft giant on it.

“Are you here for a case that I missed?” she asked from the kitchen.

“Nah, just visiting. Tomorrow we're driving to Grantsburg for a possible werewolf case… thanks” Sam said, grabbing one of the beers from Jody. Dean was next and she paused a moment, sizing you up.

“…I know I have a baby face but I’m past 26” you smiled bitterly. She blinked and smiled back, handing you the bottle.

“Don’t sound so salty. Give it 15 years and that baby face will be your best ally. Trust me”. Sitting down, she turned to Dean. “I’ll call Donna later to give her a heads up”

“I think this will be a milk run, but sure. Maybe she picked up something. Where are the girls?” Dean asked looking around.

“Alex’s at work, Patience’s gone home for finals and Claire she is ...well…you know” she sighed.

“Looking for trouble again, I assume” Sam chuckled.

“Yeah …” She confirmed while taking a large gulp of her beer. Looking at her watch she stood up slapping a hand on Dean’s knee. “Stay for dinner?”

“I thought you’d never ask” Dean answered, excited.

#Epiphany 2 #Epiphany #dean winchester #reader insert #reader fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction

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plotbunnyshipper · 6 years

Text

Visitation - [Draft/WIP/Missing middle and very end]

So I started writing two short fics at the end of Season 6, just little one offs, then a massive case of writer’s block and real life stress hit, so I haven’t worked on any of my in progress works.

But then the trailer came out and kicked me in the “get this one written before you see anything that makes you feel the need to change it so it fits with what is out there” nerve. Thankfully what I saw already fits with what I’ve got. I need to finish up the middle and very end of this, but by posting what I have I’m less likely to change things.

There is no clock, only shift changes, meals, and what little sunlight that comes in through the window to track the time. Every other day, when not in lockdown, I get a scant hour of the ability to walk around the small fenced in area they generously call the yard, followed by an optional shower for a few minutes. The monotony makes the days blur and time feel like it’s slowing. Only the tally of soap marked on the wall gives me a record of the days passing.

It’s not safe, I know it’s not safe, to get visitors, or at least the visitors I want. A couple lawyers wrote, wanting to file an appeal for me. They were not added to my approved list. I had a flood of mail for the first month, as many letters from fans of The Arrow as haters. The guards comment on the ones that are deemed not conductive to my rehabilitation and don’t make their way in, especially the rather explicit pictures of the fans. I only read the fan and hate mail to make sure they’re not coded, letters I wait for, hope for, the ones that don’t come. Eventually a single one does. It holds a photo of Felicity and William from home, and a short line of text stating that they’re safe, written and sent by John.

Drinking a handful of tepid water from the bare sink I mentally catalog the contents and space of the dark cell as my eyes linger on that one picture.

I don’t really know what I expected when making this deal, other than the fact that I was sacrificing my privacy, right of choice, and freedom to protect everyone I cared about when I couldn’t do it myself. I had been imprisoned before, but the boredom that leaves me dwelling in my thoughts is the worst of it. Nearly the worst. Not knowing how they were doing, replaying those last few days, every missed or foiled opportunity to end things and try for the life we wanted. Over and over they play out, while I sleep, while I read, while I pace and push myself to exhaustion using my own bodyweight to strengthen muscle.

No stranger to lack of privacy, I kept to myself at first, trying to block out the sights and sounds of the inmate across from my cell as he made baited comments and jerked off during lights out while the guards made their rounds...a few weeks went by before it really got under my skin and made my self control itch for a better outlet than my workouts.

The first fight was anticlimactic. One idiot, dangerous to be sure, but he thought he could take me on and win? By himself? I had him on the ground, incapacitated while I walked away before the guards could even notice a disruption.

That didn’t go over well with the pecking order of those who thought they deserved a bit of revenge for my putting them here. It also didn’t help that as I started getting more frustrated, more bored, more angry, I started baiting them and picking fights, especially the ones who thought they were untouchable. The pain felt better than worrying for a few minutes, aggression a razor focused distraction, even if I lost privileges for it, even if they sent me to solitary a few times when my restraint was gone. No one died, but the challenges grew fewer, further between, and with a larger ratio of them verses me.

It’d been over a week since I got a real shower, stuck in my cell after leaving someone unconscious after John’s visit. He couldn’t tell me much, he didn’t know where Felicity and William were, but Lyla said they were still checking in weekly and were “doing fine” in their faked identities. No word from my sister, the threat of Richard Dragon still looming over Star City, and just the other day apparently someone in a costume that looked like mine decided to make themselves known, which would explain why I got the extra attention from the guards between standard counts. I had instigated the next fight, pressed a few harder than they could let drop and just broke someone’s face through a tiled divider when a trio of guards entered the showers.

The only reason I didn’t end up in solitary was due to the fact that it had the appearance of an ambush. After all, it’s hard to look like the guilty party rather than self defense when the others were fully dressed and had a few well made shivs while I didn’t have so much as my towel within reach. I still ended up with two weeks loss of privileges and by my count I was slightly over halfway through. But a cage is a cage, losing a couple minutes of sunshine wasn’t going to break me, and damp towel scrub downs at my sink to keep the grime and stink of sweat away to make up for the lack of antiperspirant.

I stare out into the dark, too bored to sleep, which is the only reason I see it, the emergency lights flicker to life once as an alarm somewhere starts to blare. I am on my feet as a different red glow enters my cell. Instinct has me starting to twist the thing that grabs me into a throw before my mind catches up and I recognize the voice from right beside it.

“No! Oliver wait!” That voice that is a dream and nightmare at once and the strong familiar scent of her perfume has me stopping myself from the instinctive urge to stop anyone from touching me in here as the glowing blur lifts from the floor.

My voice is barely a whisper, “Felicity?”

Barry wheezes out, “Choking me-,“ before my hand drops and I take a step back. He slows enough to come into focus and lose the glow of speed.

The bright colors are glaring in contrast to the dull monotony of beige and gray, even in the shadows. “Get out!” I don’t know why the alarms haven’t continued, why the raucous attention of the other inmates hasn’t started, but they need to get far away from here before they’re caught. Barry doesn’t let go of his grip on my wrist and there isn’t enough room in the cell to get out of range. “You can’t be here, it’s trespassing, they’ll-“

Felicity ignores the warning, reaching towards my face, “Oh god, Oliver, what happened to you? John’s message said you were looking rough but your face…”

Shame or embarrassment, something I haven’t felt in nearly half a year, burns under my skin as I duck away ever so slightly out of her reach despite the urge to lean into that attempted contact. The thought is quiet but slips out as I think it, “You should see the other guys.”

Barry’s grip is tight on both of us, but if I let her touch me…I haven’t seen her other than the single picture since that news conference, and even in the near dark I try to reassure my mental image of her is still correct. It’s too dangerous for her to be here, for her, for me. I can’t let her work through the protective mask I’ve put around myself, “Flash, get her out of here, get yourself out.”

She has no such qualms, launching herself at me. I fight with myself, free arm wrapping around her, taking a deep breath as my chin bumps the top of her head.

Her voice is muffled against my chest, “I cashed in all my favors when I heard about the new perk of his powers, this shared ‘Flash Time’ that he didn’t bother to tell me about himself!”

“You’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“I had to read about it in the future time-traveling-daughter’s, who use you also didn’t bother to tell me about, notes!”

“Possible, future daughter, you know how the timelines are. And don’t say time-traveling like you’ve forgotten about the Legends.”

“They need a ship to do it.”

The scolding banter is something I didn’t realize I missed, “You both need to leave before you’re caught.”

My wife scoffs, “We can’t exactly move you out of here if you’re not coming permanently. Their security factors in metas like Vibe, and magic, but they haven’t figured out how to factor in for him.” She nods over at Barry. “Not even a fraction of a second has passed for anyone else, it’s Flash Time, and if you think I’m just leaving without clearing a few things off my chest then you sir have taken too many hits to the head in your stupid prison brawling!”

I spare a glance at Barry, he nods, “Yeah, as long as I’m touching someone I can push the speed force to manipulate time around them, it sticks for a little bit. The best we were able to practice at earlier was getting a relative half hour in a single second by repeated contact, though it hit her hard as soon as she dropped out. It’s not much for uninterrupted conversations, but as long as I recharge the focus every, again relative, few minutes I don’t need to be touching you constantly.

“That’s-“

There is a snap, and Felicity points at him then the door, “Your cue to leave speedster.” She laser focuses on me, ignoring that fact he hasn’t left yet, pulling out a phone and angrily pressing buttons. “I’m so angry with you right now! Not only did you make a decision that dramatically altered our whole family’s lives without any hint of consultation, now I find out you’re apparently picking fights, because there’s no way all this is from some accidental altercation!”

It’s not a question, I nod as the streak of red lets go with the glow of lightening, and vanishes from the cell.

I can hear the ringing, but she doesn’t stop talking, voice is tight, pained, “For you to get like this…I’ve seen what you can do one-on-one, one-on-five, one-on-a small army of professionally trained killers, No one would be stupid enough to keep going after you, why would you-?”

“I could have stopped Dragon. I could have, I should have killed him, ended this. I didn’t.”

An automated recording states to leave a message and she curses under her breath about having wasted time dropping the signal blockers on the way in if the mountains are just going to keep it from going through. “You’re not a killer, we’ve-“

“I’m not taking that risk, I’m putting the fear of me into these guys so they and theirs won’t go after any of you while I’m in here.”

“I’m so angry with you!”

“I know.”

“I hate that you always go it alone and sacrifice yourself, always, instead of letting us figure out…”

“I know.”

“I had to break ties with the company. You outing yourself as the Green Arrow meant investors either think I’m stupid, or the more familiar comments were along the lines of, ‘Your husband’s plea deal may keep you from being prosecuted for lying under oath, but that is not an investment risk we’re willing to take.’ The threats, the bounties Dragon put out on all of us…He’s still fucking livid. Then we can’t even visit, can’t even call because they keep reminding us it would make us easy targets, traceable, vulnerable.” The bitterness is not hidden from her voice. “Even at super speed I hacked into the system not to report faults, he’s obscured the cameras, we took down every sensor that could be taken down from outside the prison and will get everything back to ‘normal’ before we leave.”

Her fingers skim over my head, “Now, explain what your thoughts behind this hair so short I can’t get a grip and growing out this hipster beard at the same time?” She pulls me down into a kiss and my hands instinctively cup her face. It hurts, I’ve missed her so much, wanted to know she was safe, how they’re doing, everything and to have it, here, it’s like heartbreak. The feeling doubles down when I feel the tears sliding down her cheeks to hit my thumbs.

She shakes her head, not breaking the kiss as I try to swipe a tear away. Dragging my hand down, a startled noise escapes me as the fabric of her leggings parts and my fingers meet slick heat. “You’re not forgiven! I’m pissed at you, but I’m not stupid enough to waste these few minutes.”

I can feel the surprise showing on my face, “What- what are-?”

“It’s called easy access.” She rubs herself against my palm, “I may be furious with you but I’m not stupid and not in a patient mood. You know how hard it is to get yourself off when you're sharing a room in a crowded safe house?“ I look at her and the realization dims the frustration in her eyes. Replacing it with sorrow. She steels herself. “I was trying in the shower and apparently one of the guards...at least she knocked, but I was being as quiet as I could and still…

We spent about 6 hours in one place, then had to move to a different one, but company was waiting, so we tried one more option, then William and I split off to the ass end of nowhere so they couldn’t find us in yet another ARGUS locale. They haven’t found us since, but that meant losing the support, so now it’s the two of us in a one bedroom apartment, he gets the bedroom and I get even less privacy.”

[The middle stuff that isn’t revised enough to post, so mental image a couple small arguments and sexytime to be included later, and awkwardness on Barry’s part]

Felicity sighs, snuggling as tight as she can under the cover, “How bad is it here?”

There are a lot of questions insinuated with that, but she doesn’t need to know the answers to most of them, “Not as bad as the prisons in-“

That earns me a frown, “I’m serious!”

I play with the ring on the chain around her neck. “So am I, it’s not the worst, being away from my family, not being able to talk to William about his day, or hold you while you ramble about whatever runs across your mind.”

She rubs her head on my pillow and I give her a questioning look. “I know you noticed the perfume. I went heavy, I’m trying to get it embedded in here so can smell it and have good dreams.”

“How’s where you are?”

“Well if you like slower than dial up from the early Aught-y Naught-ies, cell coverage in exactly half the town, muggy stifling heat with mosquitoes the size of your fist, than it’s great!” The false enthusiasm fades from her voice, “But…I guess it’s better than in here. Oh! I should try him again!” She reaches for the phone on the ground and hits redial. “Five months, and I couldn’t even get a job at something like Tech Village because they were certain I’d be too easy to trace. The first week I went through three positions. Menial, repetitive, boring, and crappy hours. I didn’t even make it an hour making drinks at a the only club in driving distance before…walking out.” The ringing goes to voicemail again and she huffs out a frustrated noise. “William is doing self study at home in the evenings because he has to do the standard level classes because of the tracking concerns….he’s having nightmares.”

I close my eyes. There’s nothing I can do about that. Nothing I can do to help. “How bad?”

“Most nights. I’m not the mom he wants when he wakes up not knowing what’s real and not. Some nights he doesn’t sleep at all. Went through a bad stretch where he swiped a couple of my Ambien and tried daytime functioning with them. He ended up having a pretty intense hallucination and a blackout.”

My Ambien? “You’re having nightmares.”

“Don’t act like that’s new!” Half teasing, half morose, she continues quietly, “I just don’t have you as a security blanket, swooping in with snuggles because of your uncanny ability to notice when my breathing changes...What about yours? The usual?”

Nodding I try to shrug it off like she did. Her arms clench me tighter and I mimic the action.

“But maybe this little rendezvous will help us both for a few nights, right?”

“Hopefully.”

Felicity presses her lips quickly against mine, “Everything’s…everything will be fine. It’s just a rough patch.” Our foreheads lean against each other. “I just really needed your lips to be the last ones that kissed mine, and now th-” Stopping mid-word, she cringes as her mind catches up to what she was saying.

“You…kissed someone?”

“No, someone kissed me.”

The discomfort in her features…her insinuation earlier…I ask as gently as I can, forcing the words out as I both dread and need to know the answer, ”Did someone hurt you?”

Her hand touches over my heart as she quickly shakes her head, “No, but I chipped her tooth after I reacted with one of the moves John had taught me, and dropped her aggressively drunk self to the floor. I told you, I didn’t even finish the shift as a bartender.”

Logically I should not feel the level of pride I do that she took the instinct to protect herself and applied the training without hesitation, but she’s watching my face and I can’t hide it from her.

“Did you just give me your ghost smile?”

“Does that sound like something I’d do?”

Her hand leaves my chest to fingerbrush through the hair that’s fallen from her ponytail, a few strands tug away. “Yes, husband, that sounds exactly like something you’d do.” She kisses my palm, then circles my ring finger with the hair just tight enough that it won’t slip off. Tying a small knot with the ends, she laces her fingers with mine, “There, that’s better.”

It’s nearly invisible but I can feel it, like a promise, a reassurance, and it soothes a raw part of me. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well if they wouldn’t let you keep wearing yours on your finger, they definitely wouldn’t let you wear it on a necklace like mine. Whole new identity has me playing as William’s aunt, and with it being such a small town if I wore it wear they could see it they’d never stop asking about who gave it to me. Meth has taken enough parents that they don’t ask much about family taking care of relatives, but they’re still gossipy into the rest of people’s business.

[Again, not tightened up end will be finished later]

#Arrow #Olicity #MyFic #WIP #Partial

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