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iheardarumorthings · 3 years

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Not like a request just me wanting to be like hey look at my idea. But like five finding a kid in the apocalypse and raising that kid and then when they go to 2019 everybody is like wtf that kid from-✨

ok well now it's a request so there's that-

warnings: apocalypse, guns, knives, vigilante justice, cop stuff, isolation, bad writing possibly, very long headcanons, probably doesn't encompass all of the ideas we've thrown out and for that i am eternally sorry, death, fire, other stuff, reader being sick, reader busting eyes and kneecaps, mention of kneecap busting

HEADCANONS WITH FIVE WHO HAS A KID

INFANCY

Your mother was clutching you to her chest, whispering things in your ear when he found you two. You were trapped under rocks that offered you protection from the fires.

Your mother was dying, and therefore you had no one to rely on and you would perish as well.

“I don’t know who you are,” she rasped, lacking water. “But you need to take care of them. They’re likely all you have.”

His face was pale, his seventeen year old form was shaking as he took you from her, tears streaming down her face.

Your bundled form began to scream.

His heart broke.

Your mother died that day and that’s when he became your father.

He’d stay up all night sometimes, watching, waiting. He didn’t know whether to cover your mouth and nose from the toxins that were airborne, possible contaminants for your lungs.

“I got you, kiddo,” he’d whisper.

CHILDHOOD

He wouldn’t let you out of his sight.

Especially because the both of you were rather sickly due to lack of nutrition.

Along with this, the contaminants in the air had taken root in your lungs, making you even more vulnerable to the harsh conditions of the apocalypse.

However, that didn’t stop the utter chaos of having to live with you.

After the big jump, Five didn’t time travel but he could still spatial jump places and there has been more than one occasion he’s had to jump on top of a building to save you from attempting a tightrope escapade.

“DAD LOOK AT ME!”

“OH, FuCk-”

OH MY LORD THAT’S ANOTHER THING

YOUR L A N G U A G E

Bad y/n

“Why the fuck is this knocked down, Dad?”

You actually asked that sweetly, thinking that the f word was just a normal word.

“Don’t use that word.”

“What word?”

But, let’s move on to some plot-moving pieces here… the handler

She comes while you were alone, sitting and swinging your legs off a ledge of a slab of cement a few feet off the ground (nothing like the top of a building)

“Why hello, darling,” she smiled, venomous. “Is your father home?”

Your stubby fingers slid down under the slab for the little handgun Five had taught you how to use in case of an unlikely emergency.

You brought it out in front of you and aimed for her chest, little hairs flying into your eyes from your braid

(You didn’t have many materials to cut your hair with so both you and Five had long hair)

“Leave.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m here for Number Five, have you seen him?”

He was gathering. He wasn’t there.

“You heard what they said,” he shouted, his rifle coming out from next to him, pushing you behind him with your mother. “Leave.”

“Oh, but I think you’d like to hear my offer first. My offer for the both of you.”

You hugged his leg with one arm, the other hand clutching the plastic fingers of the woman you called mother and Five called Dolores.

He hissed at her, she smiled back. They went back and forth, sometimes mentioning you.

Whenever she did mention you he blocked you from her view just a little more.

But, in the end, the twenty one year old Five accepted, leaving your mother behind and putting you on his hip.

“I got you, kiddo. Trust me on this, we’re going to be okay.”

He enrolled you in school, that’s when he got his work done, until he didn’t.

At night he refused to leave you alone, but he never told you why.

Probably for fear of the handler toying with your brain. He heard what she did with moldable young children: she turned them into soldiers.

The only time he left you in the hands of the commission was for the treatment of your lungs.

He wouldn’t let you become a soldier unless it was on your own accord, and even then you’d rise in the ranks, ruling them all.

He knew it and he made sure you did too.

You never settled for less than number one because of him, and god were you thankful for it.

You could read ancient texts and speak quite a few languages by age five (that time in the apocalypse had to be spent doing something, right?)

That’s where you found the book that taught you how to pop out eyes and joints and other stuff like that.

He took you on a mission one night, making you sit outside as usual (but still where he could see you)

A guy ran out, about to come at you

You took his eyes and then his kneecaps

Five just stood there, clean cut (you weren’t used to that part), and shocked.

“Diego would love you,” he whispered, looking at you and your bloodied hands.

You were never supposed to be like that. He supposed that was when he realized that he needed to leave the commission sooner rather than later.

However, the commission only seemed to swamp him with more work.

And so he had no time to himself unless it was with you- meaning no time to work on equations that would get you two to 2019.

And so the years flew by.

TEENAGE YEARS

You were still in school, putting up a bored and bitter mask.

Teachers didn’t mess with you and students didn’t talk to you.

The last time that happened there was a call to Five- they were screwing with you anyway. He gave you ice cream after.

You knew everything already- the algebra, the geometry, the shakespeare (though that one was a little awkward)

You. were. Bored.

And, knowing this, Five took you on jobs frequently so you could help him with his equations.

You told him he screwed up. He didn’t listen.

He’d be a bit of an awkward parent with teenagers- not knowing the ins and outs himself. He’d gotten the talk, but it was overly factual and only about the male body.

RANDOM THING FOR AFAB READER

He would scream if he found out you had your period.

He wouldn’t know what the hell to do.

He’d take the day out and just rock back and forth- you’d have to comfort him.

BACK TO THE NORMAL STUFF

You told him he was wrong and he didn’t listen. So, the thirty-something year old man became thirteen and you were six again.

You chewed him out for that one.

So now you have the family, he introduced you as Y/N Hargreeves, much to everyone’s shock.

But they got over it- they have had a lot weirder.

Vanya babysits when Five does anything particularly dangerous, though you always seem to escape her grasp within those few days.

Five was pissed when he found out about Leonard- especially when he found out that he took you out for breakfast with Vanya.

You had said something about a shady dude. Along with this, you also managed to make your way into trouble.

That’s how you landed in 1968 with Klaus- you were kidnapped by Hazel and Cha Cha.

Klaus took care of you the best he could with Dave, but even then you had too much time to yourself.

Along with this, your lungs were acting up again because of the timeline of your treatment.

You taught yourself how to grow up, building a time machine, trying to get back to 2019 and back into your teenage body.

You successfully time traveled (just before Klaus used the briefcase), but landed in the wrong year: 1955

THE 1900s

You would make your money by becoming a singer, even at just a young age.

Someone came across your cold and neglected form on the streets (luckily you had retained some survival skills from the apocalypse so food was an issue, but not as bad as it would’ve been if you hadn’t retained those skills)

Your lungs were killing you but you still squeezed out a few notes, people walking around you sometimes handing you a few dollars to help.

They came and took care of you in exchange for your voice.

You did this until you were 14 again and Five found you: even more grown up than you were before.

He was more grown up too, being about 25 this time.

Still, you had your reunion and saved the world.

ADULTHOOD

You didn’t need college, you had enough expertise in solving way too many cold cases, but you still had to go through the academy.

You graduated top of your class, the academy cheering behind you.

But behind all the cases you solved in the daylight, the night was your time to shine as well, sometimes featuring Diego.

Knives, swords, anything you could use to catch the bad guys and drop them at the station.

It made your day job easier.

Five was behind you all the way, sometimes popping up at random crime scenes, testing you on the random details.

He was there every step of the way, even when he wasn’t physically there.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x you #tua #tua x reader #tua x you #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader

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obxsummer · 3 years

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jj maybank // masterlist

full masterlist here

navigation

✩ angst ♡ fluff ♛ trigger warning * smut

defending you // after jj and his friends cover for you with the cops, you find yourself interested in the boy and want to see if it leads to more. in the process, rafe starts a whole other issue that leads to jj getting the revenge he’s always wanted ✩♛

three times // the two instances where you flinch at jj’s touch and the one where he finally finds out what’s wrong ✩♛

half a brain cell // you’re tired of the kooks taking advantage of your boyfriend so you finally decide to put a stop to it yourself

who you are // jj finds you deep in your head on a particularly bad day but he has zero hesitation to let you know how much he loves you ✩♛

bored of books // after literally eleven hours of studying for finals, jj decides it’s time for you to take a break and give him some attention ♡

in for it // in which you’re an absolute tease at a party and jj takes you home to show you who’s in charge *

heart of gold // a royalty!au series // welcome to pogue kingdom! as resident princess, you’re hiding your relationship behind doors with jj until one day, he’s left to solve the puzzle of your abrupt disappearance ✩♛ (routledge!reader)

found family // despite the constant reassurance that the pogues loved you as a part of their group, you have doubts but they’re quick to prove you wrong whenever they’re given the chance ♡

drivers license // late drives mean late night thoughts which get you missing jj more than ever ✩

lifeline // john b told you there was no doubt that jj would always be there for you. neither of them expected rafe to put your life on the line when he started shooting bullets five minutes later ✩♛ (routledge!reader)

in your defense // while on the way to get supplies to pull out the twinkie, jj’s dad tests your limits and patience ♛♡

careful for me // with john b in prison, jj’s coming up with crazy ideas to get him out and it’s more concerning than it should be✩♡

bend the rules // being a kook isn’t as nice as it seems and jj’s tired of watching you crumble every morning at the words of your parents. enough is enough in his book, and he’s determined to get you away from that life if it’s the last thing he does ✩♡

without you // while in the middle of a pogue argument, jj's thrown back to the moment he almost lost you forever ✩♡(maybank!reader)

shattered // in the midst of your sister's return, your emotions are exhausted and things only get worse when rafe causes you to chose between what's left of your family and jj (cameron!reader)♛♡

lean on me // as much as you love being the go-to person for your friends, it's not all sunshine and rainbows. all it takes is a shitty week and an argument with your boyfriend for your strong exterior to break ♛✩♡

end of the line // jj's used to doing stupid shit most of the time, he's just never put you in the path along with him. until now, that is. (spoilers for s3!)✩♡

love me or leave me // for as long as you could remember, jj maybank hated you. all it takes is a trip to kitty hawk to realize that maybe, that's not so true (carrera!reader)✩♡

dreamcatcher // all it takes is one nightmare to change everything between you and jj✩♡

pieces of you // you had grown tired of JJ's reckless nature and were suffering the silent treatment post-argument. so it's only fitting the next time he's careless it's to save you ✩♡

broken pieces // when jj, kie, and pope get the notification that you escaped the camerons again, they decide they're done sitting on the sidelines. it's up to jj to talk you off the ledge that you've been pushed on. (routledge!reader)

series

ghost of you // the day john b died in the ocean, you lost everything. you suffered without him, hovered a thin line with your life. when you find out he’s alive, your world comes to a crashing halt and it’s john b’s turn to realize that maybe it was him that lost you ♛✩ (routledge!reader)(eventual jj x reader, series rewrite)

#masterlist-jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank #jj maybabnk fic #jj maybank series #jj maybank outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks writing #outer banks one shot #jj maybank smut #jj x reader #jj maybank x you #maybank!reader #jj maybank x sister!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader

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the-modernmary · 4 years

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 1)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you’d probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Thank you for all of the love on the prologue!! like WOW i couldn't have expected that big of a response so THANK YOU!!! As a reminder: I already have the first 17 chapters out on ao3, so I will be updating on here pretty quickly! This takes place two years after the prologue, and this is where the actual storyline starts!

masterlist || read on ao3

Anything you say can and will be held against you

So only say my name

It will be held against you

-Fall Out Boy, “Just One Yesterday”

Present Day- Two Years Later

You tugged at the handcuff that was attaching you to the interrogation table, hoping that if you glared at it enough, it would just go away. One minute, you were at your apartment and getting ready to go out with some of your friends, and the next minute Metro D.C. police were banging on your door, ordering you to go with them, no charges and no explanation.

So now you were just stuck, sitting and waiting for somebody to tell you what the hell this all was about. Law school had taught you enough about interrogation tactics, and they were pulling out all of the stops- turning down the room temperature, forcing you to sit in the most uncomfortable chair you’ve ever been in, and just making you be by yourself in the metal room. A small part of you was nervous, but mostly you were just confused. You couldn’t think of anything you’d done that would warrant your arrest.

Just as the isolation of the room was about to get to you, the door swung open and in walked two people. The first one was a petite blonde woman and following her was a younger looking man in a cardigan. You narrowed your eyes slightly at the site of them. You had expected the usual “good cop/bad cop” technique, but neither of these cops looked very intimidating.

“Hi there,” the woman spoke, sliding into the chair across from you. “My name is Agent Jareau and this is Dr. Reid. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

Her name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite place where you knew it from. You raised an eyebrow and jutted your head towards Dr. Reid. “Is the handsome one not an agent?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.

Dr. Reid seemed unphased by your question, as if he was used to that question. “I am an agent. But I also have three doctorates,” he answered.

You just smirked at him before looking back at Agent Jareau. She had placed a file on the table, the seal of the FBI practically staring you in the face. Whatever they brought you in for was an FBI matter? Oh, you were definitely screwed. You tried to keep your cool. “So are you guys going to actually charge me with anything, or are you just going to hold me for 72 hours until you find something to stick?” you accused.

Agent Jareau shook her head, and you were still desperately trying to remember how you knew that name. “The faster you cooperate, the faster we can let you go.” It didn’t go unnoticed to you that she refused to answer your question. She leaned over the table slightly to slide the file towards you and you caught a glimpse of her ID. Everything came back to you at once.

Jennifer Jareau. FBI. Business cards. “You can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU…” Holy shit, you did know that name.

You laughed softly to yourself and crossed your legs as the memories came flooding back. “Okay, I’ll cooperate,” you agreed, but you were looking directly at the two way mirror. “But only if I can speak to your unit chief. It still is Aaron Hotchner, correct?” Your voice was innocent enough to not be too suspicious, but you knew it would drive Aaron crazy. It was the same voice you would use when he had a fistfull of your hair and you were promising to be his good girl.

You could only imagine what was going on behind that two way mirror; Aaron’s team looking at him with complete and utter confusion, trying to figure out how you knew him, all while Aaron was probably clenching his teeth, red with anger. Maybe if you made him mad enough, he would bend you over the interrogation table once everybody else had left.

Jennifer and Dr. Reid shared a quick glance before looking back at you. Dr. Reid spoke first. “It would be best if we could go over our questions with you first.”

You bopped your head, pretending to think it over. “I get it, the two of you have a job to do and you have a strategy to stay in control, so I’ll give you guys a choice. You can let me speak to Agent Hotchner or I lawyer up and invoke the 5th.”

Like clockwork, the door swung open violently and Aaron stormed in. “I’ll take it from here,” he ordered, and the other two agents quickly shuffled out of the room.

He sat down in the seat across from you and you just raised the hand that was handcuffed to the table, wiggling your fingers. He was pissed, you could tell, and you loved every second of it. You leaned over the table, signalling for him to move closer to you. He hesitated, which earned him a roll of your eyes, but he eventually leaned over the table too.

“If you wanted me in handcuffs again for you, you didn’t have to go through all this effort. My phone number hasn’t changed,” you whispered, low enough so that the group watching on the other side of the mirror couldn’t hear. He refused to answer and instead just pulled back to his normal seated position. Ever the good agent, Aaron’s face went back to it’s normal, stoic look, and it made you pout. You wanted to get more of a rise out of him.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he said cooly. “Why don’t we get started?” You realized with a sinking feeling that he was already starting to lose interest in you flirting, his attention focused back on the task at hand, attention that you selfishly wanted all to yourself.

You slipped off the heels you were wearing and stretched your leg out so that your foot could brush against his leg. If you couldn’t touch him with your hands right now, you were going to make sure he could feel you in some way. His eyes shot up to yours, giving you a warning look, as if to say “Stop right now or I’m going to make you.”

You knew that look too well, craved for it even. You just responded with a smirk and dropped your foot, relishing in the fact that he actually looked slightly disappointed that you stopped.

“How are Haley and Jack doing, Aaron?” you asked lazily, leaning back in your chair. “Visiting them more often?”

Aaron cleared his throat and ran his hand down his tie to flatten it, as if it had come out of place. He was always so put together at work. “Jack is fine. Haley passed away a while ago,” he said quickly, and guilt immediately engulfed you.

You lowered your gaze so that you were staring at the interrogation table. “Oh,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry.” And you really were sorry. Sure, your relationship, or lack of relationship, with Haley was weird. You were sleeping with her ex before the divorce papers had time to be fully submitted, and even though Aaron was well in his right to be with whoever he wanted, the two of you still found yourselves sneaking around with each other. But you never had anything against her personally- she seemed like a great mother and obviously made Aaron happy for however long they were married.

Besides, you could take a guess as to what happened to Haley. Your fling with Aaron lasted for a fun few months, neither of you ever expecting anything other than sex whenever you met up, so when you and Aaron had decided to stop seeing each other, it was completely amicable. He had explained that the BAU was closing in on a serial killer who was going after him and his family, and you did not want to be involved in that mess. The fact that Haley died right as a serial killer was chasing her… that definitely wasn’t just a coincidence.

The tension was thick in the room as the two of you desperately searched for how to continue the conversation. What were you supposed to say after finding out your fuck buddy’s ex wife was murdered?

You started talking before your brain could even process what you were saying. “Well, like told you, if you ever need somebody to help you pick up those broken pieces...”

He ignored you, electing to direct the conversation in his own direction. “You know, I read the paper you were working on,” he said casually, and that sure caught you by surprise.

“You did?” you asked.

“You piqued my interest,” he admitted. “Your professor and I worked on a few cases together, so he gave me a copy. It was good. You are much more professional on paper.”

“I could say the same about you,” you countered, and he gave you a hint of a genuine smile.

“Although I did notice that you didn’t mention The People vs. Michaelson anywhere in it.” There was something in his voice that put you on edge. You could feel yourself walking into his trap, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know more.

You shrugged. “Well, I got some shit information about the case.”

For a split second, you thought you saw a flash of the old Aaron, but just as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and he was business as usual. “What intrigued me even more, however,” he continued, completely ignoring your previous comment. “Was that you didn’t mention recidivism at all, which is what that case is all about. Your thesis was on jury selection. Why ask me about the case if you weren’t going to use the information for school?”

You glared at him and clenched your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. What a dick. He knew why you were interested in the case- it mirrored your father’s situation almost perfectly. You were 12 the first time your father was arrested. When your mom realized that your dad was involved with some shady people, she immediately turned him into the cops to protect you. The prosecutor barely even tried during the case and your dad was in and out of prison within two years. The day he was released, he came right back to your home and killed your mom out of revenge. He’s now rotting in a max security prison for life, but you were still angry that he even had the opportunity to come after your mom. It’s why you wanted to become a prosecutor in the first place, so that you could ensure these criminals were actually brought to justice.

Aaron knew all that. You realized as he began to inch the case file closer to you that he was just trying to knock you off balance. The actual interrogation hadn’t even started yet. “And you say that I’m the one who gets under people’s skin,” you snapped at him.

Aaron humed to himself, arrogance oozing off of him. If you weren’t so angry at him, you would have thought it was hot. “You’re currently interning at DuPont and Associates?” You nodded, annoyed at him brushing off your last comment. “What do you know about the recent string of murders in the area?” Aaron asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his question. “Um… Just what they’re saying on the news? Somebody has been killing a bunch of people whose cases were dismissed because of technicalities- their Miranda rights were read incorrectly and that kind of stuff. I haven’t really been keeping up,” you admitted, still unsure of why you were there.

Aaron flipped open the case files, and instead of gruesome crime scene photos, you just saw legal briefs. More shocking, however, was that they were all legal briefs you had helped write. “Each of these victims had their initial cases through duPont and Associates, and we found that you were the only person who assisted on every case. What did you think about those dismissals? Some of these people really should have been locked up, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried desperately to find the words to say. Unconsciously, you started to tug at the handcuff again, as if they would suddenly just release you if you fought it enough. “Maybe, but that’s not really my decision,” you said disdainfully. Then the fear and realization slowly creeped into you. “Wait you don’t… you guys don’t think I did this, do you?” Your voice was rough and panicky.

Aaron placed his hands on the cold metal of the interrogation table, his fingers interlocked. His FBI Unit Chief exterior melted away ever so slightly. “No, I don’t,” he said softly, and his use of “I” instead of “We” did not go unnoticed by you. You weren’t sure if you were comforted by that or not. “But you are our best lead right now, and I think you know more than you realize. We have reason to believe that the unsub works for the law firm you’re interning at and is playing out a vigilante fantasy and considering you are the only one who actually worked on every single case, we need to use you and your position at the firm to get more intel.”

We need to use you. He realized his slip before he even finished his sentence. It was innocuous enough that his team probably didn’t even notice it; He was just letting a potential witness know that they were going to be an important part of the investigation. But you knew Aaron better than that, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain as he tried to figure out how to go back on what he just said.

You gave him a smirk and brought your elbows up on the table, steepling your fingers. Of course you were going to help them, whatever they needed. You’d do that even if Aaron wasn’t involved. But after being forcibly brought to the interrogation room, you figured you could make him sweat a little. “Oh Aaron, I’m flattered that you think I could be an asset to the BAU’s investigation. But if you want something from me, you’re going to have to ask for it.”

You got him right where you wanted him. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy with the roll reversal, using his own words against him. But you missed the playful banter between you and Aaron, and nobody knew how to get you off the way he did. Aaron had quite literally ruined sex for you, much to your disappointment. The other people you had slept with since meeting Aaron all lacked the confidence and intelligence that Aaron brought to every meeting, and they could never walk that fine line of fucking you like they adored you and hated you at the same time.

The way that Aaron would demand you to ask and use your words was more than just a way for him to remain in control, although you knew that was definitely part of it. And it was more than just checking for consent- that always came earlier and you had your safeword. No, it was more than all of that. He wanted to hear you beg for the things you wanted, as if he wanted to be validated; He always wanted to know that you still wanted him, which you did. So you just kept asking him for things, and he happily kept giving them to you.

Aaron looked downright murderous, his eyebrows scrunched together and his breathing getting heavier. He stood up and slammed the case file shut. “I’m not going to ask for anything, because where I’m standing, I have the control here. In case you forgot, you’re in handcuffs and I can walk out of here whenever I want.” But even as he said it, he stayed exactly where he was, his hands on the table and leaning down so that he was closer to you.

In return, you just arched your eyebrow at him, waiting for his question. He had to ask you for the sake of his job and the case and you both knew it, and you got a strange satisfaction from watching him have to ask you for something for once. He stared at you for a few moments, jaw clenching, until he realized the entire BAU team was behind the two way mirror watching this situation go down. “Will you please help us with the case?” he asked through gritted teeth.

You gave him a smug smile, which only served to irritate him further. “I would love to,” you told him, your voice too sweet and too innocent. “Now can you please take my handcuffs off?”

Aaron walked towards you wordlessly, taking the keys out of his pockets. “You’ll still have to wait here for a few minutes so that you can sign some papers,” he told you, keeping his voice even, but it all changed as he kneeled next to you, slowly unlocking the handcuffs. His fingers lingered on your skin for far too long to be considered appropriate. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he whispered in your ear, voice low enough so that nobody could hear what he was saying. “You’re going to be in handcuffs for the rest of night while I punish you for that little show you decided to give everybody. Did you already forget how to not be a brat? Do I have to teach you again?”

His words made your arousal shoot straight to your core. You were released with a soft click! and you rubbed your irritated wrist lightly. “Yes,” you practically moaned, and you were sure that your face was flushed. And just like that, it was as if only a few days had passed since you and Aaron had last seen each other, instead of two years. The two of you fell back into an easy rhythm. “I still live in the same apartment. Five minutes from here.”

With that, Aaron stormed out of the interrogation room, already barking orders at the cops. “Get her processed and out of here quickly, I don’t want to spend anymore time on this,” he demanded, making a beeline to grab his stuff. Unfortunately for him, Rossi was standing right in front of Aaron’s bag, a knowing smirk on his face. Aaron stopped mid step and groaned in annoyance. “Dave, don’t.”

Rossi just ignored him. “Old friend?” he asked, stepping aside just enough to let Aaron grab his bag.

Aaron looked around quickly and was relieved to see that there were no other BAU members near them. “You could say that,” Aaron mumbled and started to walk to the doors.

To his dismay, Rossi just followed him. “She’s pretty,” Rossi hummed, and Aaron hated how easily Rossi was able to keep this conversation so casual. “Not your usual type, though.” It didn’t take a profiler to get the underlying comment: She’s young.

Aaron took an audible breath, keeping his eyes on the exit sign that seemed to be getting further and further away. “Yeah, well…” His voice trailed off, unable to find a good response.

“When did you meet her?”

Aaron paused, deciding how honest he was going to be. He figured that if anybody was going to find out, it would be Rossi, and if he was honest with Rossi now, they would be able to keep it a secret from the rest of the team. He cleared his throat. “An alumni event at George Washington. Before Foyet but after the divorce.” Another pause. “Right after the divorce,” he clarified.

Rossi just nodded understandably, a soft “Ah” coming from his lips. He would push the full story out of Aaron later, but it was obvious that Aaron was just desperate to get out of the police station. “Okay, well... I will let the team know about your emergency meeting with Strauss that she just called, which is why you’re leaving so quickly. And if they ask, from what you’re telling me, Y/N is just one of Sean’s old friends from before he dropped out of law school. I’m pretty sure you never got along with his friends, am I correct?” Sometimes, Rossi was too good at thinking on his feet.

Aaron turned to face Rossi, his mouth open and ready to argue, but he knew there was no point. With Rossi’s lie, it would keep the team from asking too many questions, at least until Aaron got his need for you out of his system. Just one night, he promised himself. That’s all I’ll need. So instead of arguing, Hotch just nodded at Rossi, a hint of a smile on his face. It made it all worth it, in Rossi’s eyes. Aaron hadn’t been this excited about a girl since Haley’s death. He deserved a night of fun. “Thank you,” Aaron breathed before swiftly stepping out of the police station.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotcner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #my best habit #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #my writing

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lesbianlotties · 3 years

Link

follow you to the beginning (just to relive the start) - Sam/Deena - Fake Dating AU

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Simon Kalivoda, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Deena Johnson & Kate Schmidt, Deena Johnson & Simon Kalivoda, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Lesbian Character, Slow Burn, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Best Friends, High School, Angst, Humor, Fluff, First Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Jealousy, Mutual Pining Summary: Sam and Deena are next-door neighbors, and they inevitably and enthusiastically become best friends... until childhood gives way to tragedy, grudges, and regret.

By the time they make it to high school, Sam and Deena are still next-door neighbors but also sworn enemies... until high school introduces bigger threats that they will need to face together.

Faking a relationship might be a bad idea. But it might be the only way for Sam and Deena to understand their shared past and their feelings for each other.

Chapter 2:

If they had known from the start the rollercoaster that their lives would be because of each other, there is a chance Sam and Deena would have done things differently. But that is the thing about roller coasters, before you get in, it seems like a good idea. And going up and up toward the sky feels like the easiest, most effortless thing in the world. But then there’s the fall…

Sam and Deena’s friendship evolved similarly. Since that perfect summer day, life only got better and better for them. Every game was a life-changing adventure, every afternoon was endless, every evening they promised to do it all over again the next day. Without noticing, they were slowly but surely growing up. They were becoming girls with likes and dislikes and things that made them unique. In all their pictures Sam smiled widely even with her missing front tooth, and Deena always seemed to have some kind of stain on her overalls, but they were always happy, always with their arms around each other.

The promised land of the backyard behind their houses was growing and changing too. A set of swings appeared one day on the Frasers’ side, even if it was just an apology from Sam’s dad, or maybe he would have to apologize for it, Sam was starting to lose track of the things that angered her mother. But the two girls would the best of times on it. Then came a small treehouse on top of the big tree that Deena spent her childhood climbing. The two girls would spend hours up there, and sometimes Mrs. Johnson would join them, until she started claiming it was too much to get up there at all.

For Sam, the Johnson family was heaven. Mr. Johnson called her kiddo and ruffled her hair, Mrs. Johnson helped her clean up before returning to her house, and gave them sandwiches if Sam helped Deena up to look into the kitchen window from the garden. Since little Josh started talking he appeared to be enchanted by Sam, and a little terrified. Everyone thought it was adorable, except for Deena, who made her best friend promise that she’d never choose Josh instead of her.

As content as Sam and Deena were in the glory of their backyard, they also had to attend school like all other kids at some point. The two girls were still inseparable, but it was a matter of time before two other kids joined them. One day, Sam guided a little blonde boy by the hand to introduce him to Deena. Simon had on his face three of the cute bandaids Sam carried with her at all times, and his smile was so bright and harmless and he made Sam laugh so much that Deena was happy to have him stick with them at school. Then there was Kate, who held her head so high it made her look taller than all the other kids somehow. And the day Deena tried to pick up a fight with her, she ended up being scolded by Kate and asking her to hang out with them. Their small group of friends was completed. They all were happier than ever. And then… the fall.

Things started to change. Shadyside kids always had to face things much younger than children in more privileged towns. So, Deena asked Kate to search for the meaning of chemotherapy in the dictionary, so she could understand why her mother stopped going to work and why her dad couldn’t buy her a new bike. Next door, Sam decided it was worth it to stop doing some things she liked, and playing the games she wanted, and even laughing as loud as she felt like, as long as her mother would be less angry, and her parents yelled a little less. And Kate and Simon couldn’t always hang out with them, they had to help in their own houses in any way they could until they were old enough to get part-time jobs, which wouldn’t be too long anymore.

Real roller coasters, after a big fall, they go up again and again. But, for a while, all Sam and Deena and their respective families knew was falling down and down until they crashed and burned to the ground.

Deena’s mother couldn’t leave her bed anymore. Instead of helping, her father was drinking. Josh wouldn’t eat anything Deena tried to cook. Her best friend was locked in the house next to hers, grounded for something stupid like getting a stain on a dress. It was all too much. That was the first time that Deena threw a rock at the Frasers’ window and broke it.

Sam appreciated the way Deena hated her mother on her behalf, admired the way Deena stood up to her, and couldn’t help but hate the way that Deena’s courage only made things worse for her.

Sam’s mother had a lot of reasons to be angry. Her daughter spent too much time with the girl next door who was clearly a bad influence, and she idolized the woman next door in a way that would hurt her soon enough, and the then man next door was inviting her husband to go out and get so drunk she had to clean up his vomit from their carpet the next day. Her husband, friendly and charming as ever, was cheating on her but he always played the good cop and Sam adored him more than she’d ever liked her. Her greatest dream had been to leave Shadyside but right before her escape she’d ended up pregnant, and when she made one last desperate grasp for freedom with a threat of divorce, her husband, the “good guy”, told her to keep the house and the daughter, because he had a “friend” in Sunnyvale who could help him.

Sam, however, didn’t know any of that. She only knew an unreasonably angry mother that slapped her when she felt like it and locked her in her bedroom when her best friend needed her the most.

Deena, similarly, didn’t know Sam was risking her own wellbeing every time she sneaked out the window to console her whenever her mother had to go to the hospital, or whenever Sam took the blame for the broken windows that were Deena’s only outlet for her anger.

Among the things they didn’t know yet, were the reasons why they were starting to feel so tense and nervous around each other, and why their friends made it all even worse. Because one day Simon confessed he had a crush on Sam, and Deena didn’t know why that made her punch him. And one day Sam saw Kate kiss Deena’s cheek, and she didn't know why that made her start crying. They were all supposed to be friends, just friends forever, but not in the same way Sam and Deena were friends.

It was the last summer before high school started and instead of perfect days, the tension between both households was higher than ever. The Frasers built a fence between their backyards, and the shock of that unfathomable barrier suddenly separating them and putting an end to their precious childhood, made Sam and Deena cry in shock. They decided to do something in protest, and they sneaked out of their houses, took their bikes, and got a little lost in the familiar Shadyside streets.

Deena’s mother died while she was out there having the time of her life with Sam. Maybe Sam was the only one to hold Deena for hours and cry along with her behind the big tree at the end of the fence that separated their homes. But Deena’s brain couldn’t separate the feeling of having Sam’s company and having her heart ripped to shreds by her mother’s death.

The day after the funeral, the windows of the Frasers’ living room were all broken. Mrs. Fraser, surprisingly, didn’t have the guts to demand that the grieving family pay for it, but she prohibited Sam from ever hanging out with Deena again, and to kill two birds with one stone, she announced the divorce. So Sam was losing her father, getting stuck with her evil mother, and losing her best friend… all because of her best friend.

In the end, they couldn’t hold back anymore. Deena returned home one day and this time Sam was waiting for her in her front yard.

“It’s the last time I take the blame for you, Deena,” Sam said.

“It wasn’t me,” Deena replied, and rolled her eyes.

Sam tightened her hands into fists and pushed past the sour taste in her mouth to say, “You’re selfish. You’re destructive. And you don’t bring anything good to my life.”

“Nice,” Deena answered quietly. Her jaw clenched and she frowned. In the back of her mind, she knew those weren’t Sam’s words, but they had come from her nonetheless. “You’re not the first one to tell me that so don’t feel special.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam blurted out, she couldn’t avoid it. “But if you attack my house again I’ll…uh, I’ll tell the police.”

Deena laughed and Sam couldn’t help noticing it was a mean laugh that never before had the brunette sent her way. “That’s cute, Sam. But I have bigger problems than your fragile home.”

Deena tried to walk away, but Sam chased after her. “Deena!” Sam yelled her name and tightly grabbed her arm to turn her around to face her. “You’re ruining my life!”

“Well, good! Because you’ve ruined mine!”

They were yelling at each other faces, but not even in the quietest of whispers they could have explained what they meant. Sam couldn’t say she blamed Deena for her parents’ divorce. Deena couldn’t say she blamed Sam for her mother’s death. They couldn’t even put into words why it was even more than that. All they knew is that Sam’s hand was still gripping Deena’s arm and though they both felt the pull to bring each other closer, they ended up doing the entire opposite.

They pushed each other, again and again. Sam was the first one to fall, but she brought Deena down with her. It was the first time they fought, but they were in the front yard, not in the safety of the rose bushes and trees of the backyard where they grew up. Their neighbors were watching, their families pulled them apart, and it was the official ending of their friendship. They couldn’t erase that fight, and they didn’t manage to move on from it.

The moment Sam and Deena met, there were no witnesses. Occasionally, Deena’s mother looked out the window and saw her daughter smile brightly, the way she would rarely do for years after her death. Or Sam’s mother would go out to drag her daughter back in after seeing her fall on the mud with the other little girl again. As the years passed, Josh would see the way his sister treated him better whenever Sam was around. Their fathers, when they were home, learned to play with both girls, accepting they were inseparable. Kate and Simon would almost but not quite end up annoyed by the perfect friendship between Sam and Deena. They were witness to their friendship, of course, but not entirely. Because nobody was there for the most important moments.

Nobody ever got to see Sam brush Deena’s hair after her mother started slipping away, or Deena always carrying an extra sweater because Sam was always cold or uncomfortable in her own clothes. There was nobody eavesdropping when they promised to be friends forever, promised not to leave, promised nothing would pull them apart. It was just them, when they laughed until they cried, when they hid in the treehouse from Sam’s mother, and shoplifted candy bars from the local store, and put the prettiest flowers on each other’s hair.

But then, when everything changed, there were just too many eyes on them.

The rumors reached the Shadyside high school before Sam and Deena first set foot there. Gossip spread like fire in that little tragic town of theirs. People said Sam’s father had cheated on his ex-wife with Deena’s mother before she died. People said the Frasers put the fence because Deena was robbing them. People said Sam’s father left town to avoid paying back a debt to Deena’s father. But the one thing everyone in high school was saying was that Sam and Deena had hated each other their entire lives, all their neighbors had seen them fight every day in their front yard, the two girls couldn’t stand the sight of each other.

Sam and Deena started high school and then they just didn’t do anything to stop the rumors. It was easier to let people believe whatever they wanted than to explain it all. Why would they attempt to explain to strangers that they never hated each other, that they used to be best friends in a way that felt as vital as breathing, and that even now the absence of the other one was more significant than the majority of things in their lives? That they couldn’t actually hate each other if they tried, and that they were too young to make sense of the way that thinking of the other one brought pain and joy in equal measures, that each other’s names were a synonym of the best and worst days of their lives and that it was just too much for them.

It was easier, then, to go along with it, and even feed the rumors. Deena pushed Sam on the hallways, and Sam made Deena stumble on her way to her seat in the classrooms. Deena flipped Sam off from a distance, and Sam called her a bitch when she passed by. During soccer, Deena kicked the ball toward Sam’s face, and during lunch, Sam dropped her food on Deena’s lap.

It was petty, it was annoying, but it was one way to still have each other in their lives. Maybe they could have stayed enemies for their entire lives until they inherited their parents’ houses, vices, and grudges. But that’s when a much bigger threat finally took them by surprise and put their lives completely upside down. It was time for their own personal rollercoaster to start moving again, faster and more violently than before.

#helloo please support #fear street #sameena #sam x deena #sam fraser #deena johnson #deena x sam #fear street fanfic #fear street fanfiction #fs #my fic

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

Wrongly Accused - Jack Thompson

Pairing: Jack Thompson x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Leave a comment a let me know what you think xx

Wordcount: 2006

Summary: You’re picked up from the street by two SSR agents and brought in for questioning as a possible suspect in a case you have nothing to do with, and Jack is shocked, to say the least, when he finds out.

You’d had a few things planned for the day, none of which included being picked up on the street, put in cuffs and forced into the back of a police car.

And yet here you were, cuffed to the table in a dimly lit up interrogation room at the SSR, leg bouncing up and down anxiously and your fierce glare set on the two agents in front of you, anger pulsating in your veins and fear causing your heart to beat violently in your chest.

“I’ve told you probably like ten times now but seeing as both of you seem to be hearing impaired, I’ll tell you again.” You snapped, leaning forward and staring them straight into their eyes. “I’m not saying anything else before my lawyer gets here so you might as well go make the call now.”

One of the agents sighed, sinking into the chair on the other side of the table and leaning forward on his elbows, giving you an annoyed look. “If you would just cooperate then this would go a lot quicker. Just tell me what you know and you’ll be free to go.”

You immediately scoffed. “Do you actually expect me to believe that? Do you think I’m an idiot?” You asked. “I know how your system works. All you want is someone to put the blame on so that you’ll get the case off your back. You don’t care who goes down for it, if he, she or they are guilty or not, you just want it to be quick, over and done with.”

The second agent walked up to your side, crossing his arms over his chest and giving you a pointed look. “Now, that’s very rude misconception.” He said. “But if we’re going to talk about misuse of power then that would be the cops you’re talking about, and we’re not cops, we’re agents. The only thing we want is to make sure the guilty one gets the punishment he deserves.”

“Cops, agents, you’re all the same.” You scoffed again. “It doesn’t matter what I say, so I won’t say shit without a lawyer, even though I have no idea why you would think I’m involved in some fucking trafficking circle in the first place.”

Both of them stared at you for a moment, before the agent sitting down heaved a heavy sigh and stood back up, turning to his co-worker. “This is a lost cause.” He said. “We should go get Chief Thompson.”

You instantly picked up on the familiar surname, eyes growing wide and you head nodding rapidly. “Yeah, go get Chief Thompson.” You encouraged. “I’ll talk to him.”

The two turned and gave you a strange look, and you quickly wiped the excited look off your face, replacing it with a glare once more.

They shook their heads, and one of them pointed a finger at you, giving you a stern look. “You stay here.” He said, and you had to stop yourself from laughing out loud.

How stupid could they be?

“Well, yeah. It’s not like I can go anywhere.” You deadpanned after you’d successfully suppressed the laughter, tugging on your cuffs to further prove your point.

But they were already walking out of the room, the door slamming shut behind them a second later.

You sighed, beginning to impatiently tap your fingers on the surface of the table, your leg bouncing quicker than ever at this point. You may not have showed it to Tweedledum and Tweedledee but on the inside, you were panicking.

All you could think of was your father, and being in the situation you were in was bringing up all of the memories you had been trying to forget, all the trauma.

Luckily, however, you didn’t get too much time alone to think about it, the door soon opening again and bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

Your eyes were wide as they met Jack’s, and his were even wider, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he saw you sitting there.

When he had been fetched from his office and asked to help his agents with a “difficult suspect”, this was not what he had been expecting.

As the shock slowly wore off, he opened the door fully, stepping inside the room. “I- What are you going here?” He asked, and you snorted, your leg finally stilling now that he was there.

“I’ve been asking myself and your brainless co-workers the same thing for the past twenty minutes.” You replied and he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and bringing one of his hands up to rub the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He heaved another heavy sigh, and then brought his hand back down, giving you an apologetic look. “I’ll go get the keys. I’ll be right back.” He promised and after getting a nod from you, he walked back out the same way he came in, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone again.

He marched through the corridor and into the room next to the interrogation room, the room in which you could be seen sitting all by yourself, cuffed to a table, through the big one-way mirror.

“Why the hell is she in custody?” He wasted no time in asking, slamming the door shut behind him.

The two agents who were watching you through the glass jumped at the sudden sound and turned around, giving him a clueless look. “She’s one of our suspects.” One of them answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But Jack only glared, walking up to them and getting into their faces. “Suspect for what, exactly?” He asked, and they exchanged a look.

“Being an informer for Kobra.” They replied. “She claims he has an alibi but she refuses to give it to us. She’s replying to all our questions with questions, says she won’t say anything without her lawyer present, acting guilty as hell.”

Jack once again brought his hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose, an annoyed breath leaving his nose.

“I am.” He said, and the agents immediately exchanged another glance, a confused look growing on their faces.

“What?”

“I’m her alibi.” Jack clarified, bringing his hand back down and crossing his arms over his chest. “She's been with me every night for the past six months.”

The agents exchanged yet another look, realization crossing over their face, their attitudes suddenly turning unsure as they continued to argue with their boss. “That doesn’t mean she can’t be a suspect. You haven’t had your eyes on her twenty four seven, have you?”

“Do you really want to go there? Do you even know who she is?” Jack glared. “Her dad was Mitch (Y/L/N). Ring any bells? No? Well, let me refresh your memory.”

He uncrossed his arms from over his chest and slowly walked up to them, causing them to back up. Jack wasn’t fazed, bringing his hand out to jab a harsh finger into one of their chests.

“Her dad was put on trial and sentenced to death row for a crime he didn’t commit, all because the cops on the case wanted to get it over and done with and he was one of the witnesses, easy to pin the blame on. All of the evidence proved he wasn’t the one and yet, the blame was put on him. He was proven innocent when they caught the real murderer, five minutes before his electrocution was scheduled.” Jack looked between them as he spoke, jabbing his finger into his chest again. “He died, because the system let him down. The system let his entire family down, including the woman you have in handcuffs in there. She was only thirteen years old. Of course she’s gonna put up her walls and fight back when she randomly gets picked up without an explanation.”

They were speechless, finally remembering about the man who was wrongfully killed at the hands of the system, and finally realizing their mistake.

“I- We didn’t know.” He said, smoothing out the front of his shirt as Jack removed his finger and stepped back. “We thought that she was just fighting back because she had something to hide.”

“No, you didn’t know.” Jack pointed a finger at him. “Because you didn’t take the time to pull out her file and read it, because you don’t know how to do your jobs.”

“We just thought-“ He hesitated, swallowing. “She matched the description that one of the witnesses gave us and she was hanging around the same corner that-“

“Well, now you know she’s not involved.” Jack interrupted him, and both of them bowed their heads.

“Yes, our apologies, Chief. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right, it won’t, because I’m assigning someone else to the case.” Jack said.

Offended looks crossed over their faces but they didn’t say anything; they didn’t have time to, as Jack held his hand out.

”Give me the keys to the cuffs and get out of here.” He ordered and they sighed, but did as they were told, reaching into his pocket for the keys and dropping it in his hand.

He said nothing else, wasting no time in leaving the room and heading back into the interrogation room where you were still waiting for him to come back, impatiently so judging by the glare he received once he entered again.

“So, what happens now?” You wasted no time in asking, yanking at the chains annoyedly. “Are you letting me go or am I gonna have to claw my wrists out of these cuffs?”

Jack chuckled, slowly walking up to you where you were sitting and shaking his head. “Every time I think they’ve reached their full capacity of stupidity, they surprise me by doing something even more stupid. I’m sorry, about all of this.”

“It’s fine.” You said, sighing in in relief as he moved to unlock the cuffs. “I’m just glad my knight in shining armor was here to save me from another moment alone with those idiots. I swear their poor methods of questioning were making me lose brain cells.”

He hummed, sticking the key into the lock and twisting it to the side. “That’s usually how they get people to confess.” He mumbled. “They bore the truth out of them.”

You snorted. “I can imagine.”

The cuffs finally came undone and you wasted no time in getting to your feet with a heavy breath, rubbing your red and sore wrists.

Jack watched you, sitting down on the edge of the table and raising an eyebrow at you when you looked up to meet his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow right back at him, silently wondering what he was looking at, which only probed him to raise his eyebrow further, a teasing glint in his eye.

“You’re sure you don’t have anything to do with the kidnappings and trafficking, though, right?” He asked then, and you scoffed, your arm shooting out to shove his shoulder gently.

“I’m joking, I’m joking.” He laughed as you did so, pushing himself back off the table and stuffing the keys into the pocket of his slacks, before walking up to you and taking you by your arms. “On a more serious note, though, I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“Yeah? How are you going to do that?” You questioned, calmness and contentment filling your body at the feeling of his thumbs rubbing the bare skin of your arms soothingly.

He smiled, reaching his hand up to touch your cheek. “Dinner at my place, tonight.” He said, his words causing your lips to pull into a smile much like his own.

“Cook me up some of that pasta of yours and you’re forgiven.” You answered, leaning in to press your lips to his.

He hummed, his hands finding their way to your waist and his feet taking him a step closer to you, his voice coming out in a mumble against your lips.

“Deal.”

Tagged: @corishirogane3 @trenchcoatedwings @fandomsandxfiles-writes @microwaved-timmies

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#jack thompson #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson imagine #agent carter #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #chad michael murray #peggy carter

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platypanthewriter · 4 years

Text

See You On the Other Side

Febuwhump: Day 5, Take Me Instead (got a lil derailed though) WIP

Steve was driving at night, listening to the radio. The Eurythmics were blasting out his windows, the breeze whipping his hair and drying the sweat of Indiana in August, and there was nothing ahead of him in the road, when suddenly Billy Goddamn Hargrove stepped out right in front of his car. The headlights lit up his bloodied wifebeater and the cigarette in his hand as the bumper of Steve’s car passed through him, and Steve yelled.

The brakes screeched as Steve’s car came to an angled stop, and he panted, his arms up as he stared around, his heart thudding in his chest. He scrambled out to look back, and his tail lights showed a dark shape standing, idly, where he’d just driven his car. Steve jogged back.

It was definitely Billy, sweaty, blueish, and bloodied as Steve had last seen him. He was smirking past Steve’s head. “...that you, pretty boy?” he asked, with a rasp in his voice Steve didn’t remember, and black fluid dried down his chin and neck.

“Don’t cream your pants,” Steve said automatically, jerking his head to squint at his car, then back to where Billy was standing, smack between the rubber marks where he’d tried to stop.

“...move along,” Billy said, turning away, and Steve dodged around him, staring into his face, as Billy laughed, hunching his shoulders. “...you want something from me, King Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, reaching out, then yanking his hand back. “What the hell is going on?!”

“You wanna know more about me, your majesty?” Billy asked, stalking forward so their faces passed through each other, and Steve stumbled backwards so fast he nearly fell on his ass. He caught himself in a crouch with one hand behind him, and pushed himself back up as Billy laughed his ass off.

“Screw you,” Steve muttered, dusting himself off, but he could hardly just leave Max’s dead brother wandering the highway. “Why’re you...streetwalking?”

“...I am not doing that,” Billy snorted. “Sounds kinda unsatisfying, who’s gonna pay a ghost for a fuck?”

“What?” Steve asked, squinting, and Billy shrugged, raising his eyebrows. Steve sighed. “Jesus, I forgot what a dickhead you are.”

“Drive on, then, Harrington,” Billy waved him off, and Steve had to trot after him again as he wandered down the road.

“Does Max know you’re out here?” he asked, and Billy snorted.

“The fuck would she care.”

“She cares,” Steve told him, stubbornly. “No idea why, really—why’re you here, anyway? You didn’t get run over—”

“Actually, I just did,” Billy pointed out.

“You died at Starcourt,” Steve finished, and Billy tucked his hands in his pockets again, and started walking away. “Why aren’t you—”

“What, in hell?” Billy snarled back. “I don’t know where the fuck I am—”

“Johnson’s Texaco’s like three minutes thattaway,” Steve pointed, and Billy cocked his head, frowning over his shoulder, then pointed hesitantly the other way. “...so the mall is…”

“Yep,” Steve told him, and Billy stopped, sighing. Steve opened his mouth to talk, then closed it, and blew air into his cheeks, feeling like a frustrated chipmunk. “...I dunno if I can give you a ride,” he said after a while, and Billy snorted.

“Pretty obvious you can’t,” he said, sitting down right there in the road. “The fuck d’you even want.”

“...come on, get out of the road, you’re gonna cause a wreck,” Steve told him, his hands passing through Billy’s arms, and Billy laughed.

“Yeah, even dead I’m causing problems for everyone,” he said, lying back, so he was sprawled across both sides of the road, his arms and legs outstretched. “Fuck off.”

Steve sighed, stalked back to his car, and swung it around, pulling over to the shoulder. He looked for headlights before he stepped into the road, and walked over to kick through Billy’s starfished leg. “The hell are you doing, man,” he sighed, and Billy raised one arm to flip him off. Steve crouched, considering. He’d heard a fair amount about Max and Billy from Dustin—Billy’s mom wasn’t in the picture, he gathered. “You want me to tell your dad you’re here?”

Billy sat up, glaring at him. “No, I fucking don’t, fuck off, leave me the fuck alone—”

“Oh,” Steve said, thinking.

“Don’t you dare,” Billy hissed. “Only good thing about being dead, him having nothing to say about it.”

“...oh,” said Steve, grimacing.

“...why are you still here,” Billy sighed.

“Uh,” Steve said, thinking. “Uh, El is fine,” he said slowly, and Billy laughed.

“You think I give a shit?!”

“...I mean, you died saving her,” Steve told him, “—so yeah, kinda.”

“Got her in trouble in the first place,” Billy said, so low Steve barely heard it. “If I hadn’t gone fucking—crazy—” Steve opened his mouth to answer, and heard a car coming. He stood, frowning, and Billy scrambled to his feet and waved his hands through Steve’s torso. “Get the fuck out of the road, Harrington—”

Steve allowed himself to be waved to the side of the road well before the truck even came around the curve and its headlights lit them up. “...how come you’re out here?” he asked again.

“...you should go,” Billy said, following him to his car. “There’s shit out here worse than me.”

He walked off into the woods after that, making no noise in the underbrush, and Steve couldn’t see him outside the area lit by the streetlights.

There hadn’t been much reason to go to Starcourt, before that, but he swung by after he spent his whole shift the next day wondering whether he should tell Robin he’d met the ghost of Billy Hargrove, or be honest, and admit he was going insane.

Billy was lying along a car-sized chunk of fallen cement, and Steve wandered closer, watching him. He looked...like a dead guy, Steve thought, he wasn’t glowing, or transparent—he was just there, his tank top stained with dried blood and black ooze, staring up at the sky. “...Hargrove,” Steve called, and Billy sat up and glared at him.

“You checkin’ me out?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, grinning, and then trotting over. He walked right up to Steve again, and Steve dodged back as Billy’s face brushed through his.

“You made it back,” Steve observed, wiping his face off with a reflexive reflex, and then feeling dumb, because it wasn’t like it actually had Billy’s brain on it.

Billy shrugged, smirking. “The hell else am I supposed to go,” he laughed. “They didn’t dig me out.”

“Shit,” Steve agreed, raising his eyebrows, and Billy snorted, watching him. “...what’d you mean, there’s shit worse than you?”

“Fuck you very much,” Billy laughed, tensing, but he didn’t answer. His eyes raked over the parking lot.

“I didn’t tell anyone you were, uh. About you,” Steve told him, and Billy barked a laugh.

“Because that always goes well,” he said, baring his teeth in a grin. “How come I didn’t just—tell you I’d lost my shit, Harrington? You’d’a put me down. Beat my fucking head in.”

“...what?” Steve asked, blinking at him.

“Before I turned into—fucking Zodiac Killer,” Billy said flatly, his hands shaking. “What’d my body count even end up being?”

“Wait, no,” Steve held his hands up. “You—you were like, um, y’know, that movie with the little girl who pukes pea soup on a priest?”

“...you’re saying demons are real,” Billy scoffed, but watched him warily. “...I was wondering if you were real, and then you said dumb shit about the Exorcist, and thought I’d wanna see my dad—”

“They’re...sort of real,” Steve said, biting his lip. “I mean, you weren’t...you. There was—there’s a—” he fumbled around, trying to explain, and Billy listened, waiting. “...it drove you like a car,” Steve said finally. “The uh, the car doesn’t—you couldn’t pick where to go. Right?”

“...sure what it felt like,” Billy said, clenching his fists. “I couldn’t—I could—sometimes, I could—I could go to work, or—but then I’d—” he took a deep breath, and then growled into his hands. “...I tried to call the cops,” he whispered, and Steve ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, trying to think of something to say.

“Wasn’t your fault,” he said first, and Billy snorted a laugh. “It wasn’t,” Steve told him, and when Billy opened his mouth to argue again, Steve waved his hands wildly. “No, no, listen. Look. Okay. There’s a lab—no,” he bit his lip, thinking, and tried again. “The government started giving people these drugs, like, my mom’s age, when they were like—in college, like the seventies,” he began, and Billy listened. After a while he sat down, glowering intently between questions, and Steve sat down crosslegged on the ground facing him.

Billy didn’t have a ton of questions, but most of the ones he did have were about Will, and how Joyce Byers had saved him, and he stared down at his hands, licking his teeth in a fidgety way, his eyebrows raised like his brain needed the space.

As Steve kept talking, Billy laid down, rubbing his face, but he listened to the end, staring at the sky as Steve told him about Hopper dying, and El and Will moving away.

When the whole story was done, Steve sat and thought, watching Billy. “...so it wasn’t your fault,” he said again, and Billy laughed hoarsely, curling onto his side, towards Steve.

“...yeah, sure,” he said, his eyes distant.

The sun was setting, the sunset bright through the fence around Starcourt Mall, and Steve wondered, in passing, whether there was anything worth stealing in there—the quarter rodeo ride, or the candy machines.

Billy sighed, closing his eyes. There were dark circles under them, and Steve wondered, grimacing, whether the Mindflayer had let him sleep before he died. He was grimier than Steve remembered, too, and it occured to him to be glad Billy’s ghost hadn’t kept whatever broken bones he’d gotten in the wreckage.

He looked exhausted, and filthy, his curls greasy and tangled, but he walked fine, and there weren’t—Steve thought, with a shudder—bones jutting from a crushed ribcage, or a squashed eyeball dangling from a misshapen skull. He just looked...asleep, Steve realized, as Billy curled up a little tighter, frowning, and making a little noise under his breath.

Steve bit his lips together, watching Billy Hargrove bury his face in his arms, and then got his homework, and the flashlight from his car. Every time Billy would start to squirm, and mumble, Steve would hiss “Psst! Billy!” and he’d jerk, and roll into a different position, his shoulders relaxing, and Steve bit his lips together, feeling helpless.

He was through his math problems, his essay on the Depression, and halfway through The Great Gatsby, when Billy sat up, glaring at him. “...what the fuck,” he breathed. “What—” he glanced around, his eyes narrowed against the darkness. “What the fuck, why—why are you—what are you doing?!”

“Homework,” Steve said stubbornly, rubbing the back of his neck, and sitting his book down to stretch.

“Why are you doing it here,” Billy asked, sounding pissed. “Fuck off home, Harrington—”

Steve sighed, and did, stopping as Billy ran up alongside him. “...what.”

“Just being a ghost,” Billy whispered, leaning in to brush their faces a little through each other again, and Steve staggered back, yelling.

“Stop putting your brain on my brain,” he growled, glaring, as Billy cracked up, leaning in Steve’s car door like a prick.

“You sure?” Billy licked his lips, and Steve rolled his eyes, and took off the parking brake to head home.

Steve took his bag of McD’s and parked in the lot of the charred ruin of Starcourt Mall. He ripped the salt packet open, sprinkled his steaming-hot fries, and watched the floaty stuff start to rain down around his car as Billy approached, his weird Upside-Down atmosphere around him. Steve heard the seat settle deeper next to him, and took a bite of his burger.

“Jesus, that looks good,” Billy said, and Steve glanced over, still chewing.

“You can see it, but you can’t, like...touch it?” he asked, and Billy demonstrated, waving a hand through Steve’s fries. He was like Barb in Steve’s pool. Steve watched him, until Billy licked his lips.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer. You can jack off to it at night.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and settled back in his seat, sighing. “...you think maybe you can show me where you are?”

“Here,” Billy snorted, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know, dumbass,” Steve sighed again. “I mean, y’know...you.” He took another bite of his burger, after stuffing a few fries in his mouth.

“Why, you gonna throw some holy water around,” Billy shot back. “Fucking...exorcise me.”

Steve chewed slowly and swallowed, as Billy glared moodily at his dashboard. “Nah,” he said, finally, and Billy glared over warily. “I thought maybe...if you’re like...haunting your, uh,” he waved a hand at Billy, grimacing, and Billy bristled.

“What,” he hissed.

“Thought I could like…” Steve frowned at the french fries, grabbing a handful, “—take you with me. Maybe.”

“...what,” Billy growled, his eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you—”

“Fine, jesus,” Steve said, rolling his eyes, and taking his car out of park. “Have fun haunting a burned-out mall.”

“Wait! Wait,” Billy shouted, scrambling up onto the seat. “Wait, Harrington, what the fuck—you gonna—you gonna, like, drive my skull around?”

“...I guess,” Steve said, wrinkling his nose, and putting his car back in park. “Maybe. I mean, we could—we can try and figure out where you are, maybe—maybe I don’t need the whole thing.”

“Put my middle finger on your keychain,” Billy breathed. “That’d be metal.”

Steve snickered, watching his grin. “Do you know where you are?” he asked, and Billy shivered, swallowing. He shook his head.

“I...I don’t know,” he breathed, staring at the mall through the window. “I don’t, uh,” he took a shuddery breath, and Steve wondered whether it helped. “I don’t remember too clear,” Billy whispered.

“Okay,” Steve nodded, grimacing. “Okay, uh, I’ll—I’ll bring a shovel, okay. I’ll—I’ll find you.”

Billy turned and glared at him, his eyes reddening, a little. “...why?”

“Dude,” Steve glared over, smacking his fists, holding the burger, into the steering wheel. “The hell d’you mean why.”

“...I coulda killed you,” Billy said, and Steve grimaced, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, well, then you got yourself killed saving El, okay, we’re even. They’re gonna tear that shit down,” Steve pointed with a french fry, his eyes narrowed at Billy as he chewed, and Billy’s mouth quirked. “You’re gonna end up in the dump, or something,” Steve said, throwing a french fry through him, and Billy snorted a laugh. Steve threw another one. “You wanna haunt the dump, asshole?!”

“Sounds like a wild night,” Billy said, holding his hands up as Steve threatened to throw another fry. “...not sure you’re gonna find much, though.”

“Oh, I will,” Steve told him.

That Friday night, Steve went back and tossed a shovel over the fence before climbing up it himself. He wandered through the ruined mall kicking wreckage until he heard Billy’s voice.

“The hell are you gonna do, dig me up and like...throw me in a trash bag,” he asked. “I’m gonna smell like shit.”

“Oh, crap, yeah,” Steve said, stopping. “You’ve been dead what, a couple months, in the summer.” He sighed, and kept kicking rubble around.

Billy yelled “Harrington, move your ass,” and Steve scrambled to the side as the charred, twisted metal he’d kicked collapsed, and he ran, stumbling into where the roof had already fallen. He dropped to a crouch, panting, as Billy’s bluish hands waved through him.

“Shit, Harrington,” he whispered.

“...I can’t figure out where the dome was, even,” Steve groaned, stretching. “Come on, work at it a little.”

“You’re still trying?!” Billy panted, staring at him in the dim evening light, as Steve coughed cement dust, perched unsteadily on rubble.

Steve sighed, steadying himself on a rusty hunk of exposed rebar. “Yeah, shithead, I’m still trying.”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered, frowning around. “Look, go—go back. I’ll try to find it, okay, it’s—it’s a fucking deathtrap here, in the dark.”

“I can’t dig during the day,” Steve reminded him, rolling his eyes.

“You can get the fuck out of here,” Billy hissed. “Go home and fuck that bitch Wheeler, I’ll find it, jesus—”

“Euuugh,” Steve groaned, but he let Billy lead him out, squinting after the slightly darker shape outlined by the traffic lights. He tripped once, and Billy was half through him, waving his hands at Steve’s, before they both remembered the whole reason they were there, and Billy turned away, taking a deep breath. “...it’s okay, man,” Steve said, and then felt like an idiot, because it really wasn’t.

“...are you bleeding from anywhere?” Billy asked hoarsely, and Steve was the one who reached out that time, and then muttered angrily to himself.

Steve went home and called the Byers’, said hello absently to Jonathan, and asked for Joyce. “Um,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Uh, I know this—sucks—but I need to ask some questions. About—about Will. About how you—knew.”

Part Two

#harringrove #Febuwhump #Happy Ending I swear #Billy and Steve both think Billy is dead #Billy keeps taking chances to 'kiss' Steve #That habit definitely won't lead to anything awkward #When he and Steve are both on the same physical plane

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fvrxdrm · 4 years

Text

City of the Living Dead

Chapter 6

"September 28, 2:30 am... It's down to just me and 3 others. No weapons...no ammo...and too many skirmishes have drained us mentally and physically. We're not gonna make it... Officer Phillips once suggested we escape through the sewers. Apparently, there's a secret tunnel under this place left over from its museum days. I brushed her idea off before, but now, it's not sounding all that bad. Yeah, there's no proof there's even a tunnel or that the sewers aren't infested with zombies, but I don't wanna sit here and wait to die, either. It's a long shot, but I'm gonna try to find out what I can about that tunnel... Elliot Edward," you read, "Shit. Rest in peace, buddy." You placed the transcript back to where you found it and proceeded in scanning the room you and Leon were in.

It was an office of some sort with mahogany desks occupying the center, swivel chairs pointing towards every direction, some paperworks piled in a stack and some (or rather most) cluttered all over the tables and floor. It looked like a hurricane together with an earthquake and a tsunami clashed and crashed in the area.

"Leon, w-" your head twisted and turned as you looked for best friend and even called out to him when you found him just staring at something on the ceiling, his trembling lips pinned in between pearly-white teeth, eyebrows furrowed upwards, and eyes looking like a dam was about to breakdown because of too much pressure. You went towards where he was standing and followed his gaze. You gasped. He was looking at stringed triangle banners with letters printed out on each of them

WEL COME LEON

Your face began to mirror Leon's but a pained smile differentiated yours from his as a sudden rush of memory enlightened your brain. "Hey, look, the design's the same as the banner I surprised you with when we were 15," you said, raising an arm to point at the triangular flags.

Leon chuckled softly at what you said and nodded while a sneaky tear flowed down his cheek in a tiny stream. "Yeah."

"Come on, Leon! I worked hard for this." You hauled on your friend's wrist and led him towards his room with a strain as Leon's languor held him back.

"This better be good, Y/N. You fucking woke me up and I'm really close to fucking strangling you." His voice was a little hoarse from having just woken up right before you pulled him off of the couch and he was still lowkey tired because of the three-hour rest he had last night, but as much as he wanted to throw you out of his house and fall into a well-deserved slumber again, he was into surprises and was curious as to what you had in store. So, he went along with it even though he was pretty much a sloth still.

"I promise you'll love it." You chortled.

Leon sighed in defeat before loosening up and letting you pull him towards where you wanted to take him for this so-called surprise with a rub of his crusty eyes.

When a familiar door came into view in front of you, you covered Leon's eyes with one of your hands and twisted the door knob, revealing a bedroom with a banner hovering over Leon's messy bed, before lightly pushing him inside.

"All right, here we are," you spoke as you removed your hand from your face, moving right beside him to watch Leon's face as it shifted from being enraptured to crestfallen real quick. You guffawed in a boisterous way at his reaction and plummeted down to the ground whilst clutching your stomach in a joyful pain.

YOU SUCK LEON

"Really, Y/N? This-this is what you wanted to show me?"

"It's true though, you actually suck!"

"Come on, you know you only won in Street Fighter because I let you," he whined. You stood up from being laid on the floor before clutching onto Leon's shoulder for dear life.

"For 20 times? Really?" You laughed again, "nah, you just suck, bro."

Leon narrowed his eyes at you with lips pressing tightly in a thin line and turned towards you, his feet moving slowly in tandem as he approach you with a spurious anger, his hands closing into fists.

"What?" You asked with a nervous chuckle and feet backing up in rhythm with his laggard advances.

"You think I suck?" His voice imitated a dark tone. Had you not been slightly scared - which you hated to admit - you would've busted a gut at how ridiculous it sounded.

"I mean, yeah, it's already said in the banner, dimwitt."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Well, let's see who sucks now!"

Welp, that's my cue!

You dodged Leon's attack by the skin of your teeth, stumbling on a stupid pencil for a bit, before proceeding to run around the house to avoid Leon's "spider fingers" as you call it and making a tiny bit of a mess. However, your luck has gone away and he eventually caught you when you accidentally tripped over the leg of a chair, throwing you into his bed and tickling each spot that would make you squirm and and laugh.

"I still suck, huh?"

"N-no, fine...y-you don't...s-suck," you cried in between heavy breaths and hysterics. Satisfied with your remark, Leon stopped his fingers from moving and plopped down beside you, taking a moment to catch his breath before he pulled you closer to his body and spooned you. "You still couldn't win yesterday though."

"Yeah, well, I know a million ways to win your heart though."

"Fuck off, Le-le." Leon tsked at the nickname.

"Y/N, that sounds awful as fuck."

"Whatever." You felt his lashes kiss the nape of your neck as he closed his eyes to give them another four hours of rest, your own following afterwards when you heard Leon's muffled voice vibrate against your shirt.

"Hey, you wanna be my date for homecoming?"

"I thought you already asked Lexee to be your date."

"Dante already asked her out, so..."

"Okay, fine, I'll be your date." You squeezed his hand before intertwining your fingers with his and smiling when you felt him kiss your hair.

"Thanks, Y/N. Good night."

"It's 10 in the morning, dumba-"

"Shh... Rock-a-bye baby..."

"You do suck though." You light-heartedly nudged Leon's side and wrinkled your eyes in a grin, chuckling when he returned the gesture with a titter.

"I really don't," he retorted back.

"Sure." You took his hand in yours and gently squeezed it in a comforting way to ease the two of you before placing a feather's kiss on the back of it. "Come on, we still have a job to do."

*****

Leon S. Kennedy, we're putting you on a very special case for your first assignment. Your mission is...to unlock your desk! The key to your success is in the initials of our first names. Input the letters in order of our desks. There are 2 locks- 1 on each side of your desk. Make sure you get them both. Basically, your first task is to remember your fellow officers' names, but you figured that much out, right? Good luck, Leon. By the way, it might take a little work to get Scott to give you a straight answer.

Lieutenant Branagh

Scrawled in a corner between drops of blood on the paper was an additional note the lieutenant had written while he and his fellow officers were isolated and trapped, and it read:

Be glad you're not here, rookie.

"Remember your fellow officers' names..."

"I think that means the initials of my supposedly co-workers' names should be the password to open these locks on my desk." Leon stood up from where he was knelt down on the floor and casted around from desk to desk, unlocking the padlocks on his table and claiming the prize after accomplishing his "first assignment" - a magazine for his beloved Matilda.

You smiled when Leon pulled out the gun he's had since the beginning of his adult years, another retention reminding you of the peaceful days you once had before you started walking right into confusion.

Matilda was a gift Leon's father had given him on his 18th birthday, a few months before he died of cancer. He was happy about it, and knowing how his family had supported his decision on him becoming a cop, his heart fluttered inside and he couldn't be more grateful about it. Leon held onto it everyday, even becoming a bit hesitant about leaving it behind whenever he went to school. And when his father passed away because of said illness, he grasped onto the weapon the same way he did when his dad was still alive, if not more.

"Happy birthday, Leon. Happy birthday, Leon. Happy birthday, happy birthday... Happy birthday, Leon... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEON!"

Leon's cheeks stretched in an almost painful way as everyone erupted into cheers and confetti fell from the ceiling. Each person was wearing cone-shaped hats and the living room was decorated with different ornaments colored in his favorite hues. His family was there and so were his friends, and oh, how could he almost forget...

It was his 18th birthday!

"So, what do you think?" You spoke from behind him. He turned around to see you smiling like an idiot and tugging on the string of a party you picked up from the floor.

"This," he began. "This is amazing! Wh-"

"Well, son, the candle's almost melting. Wanna make a wish?" Leon's dad emerged from behind the small crowd with a three-layered cake balanced on top of his palms. The icing of the pastry was blue, edible police-related finishing touches garnished it with such perfection he almost didn't want to eat it for the sake of admiring and staring at the cake, and a single candle formed into the number 18 as an emphasis to his recent age was placed on top with a tiny flame dancing around in the air. Leon closed his eyes and wished for the best before blowing the candle, watching as the fire disappeared into a swirling smoke. Everyone rejoiced once again.

When voices had began dying down one by one, Leon's father called his name and picked up a box from underneath the table after placing the cake down where it wouldn't fall down.

"Leon, you're going to be attending the police academy soon and in the next few years you'll be the cop you always wanted. So, as a gift, I give you this gun." He opened the rectangular cardboard box where a gun laid and presented it to his child, Leon's eyes sparkling in delight at his very own weapon. "I know you'll be taking good care of Matilda."

"Matilda?" Leon asked in confusion.

"You know, like, Mathilda from Leon: The Professional," his dad replied. Leon chuckled in response before he carefully took the gun out of its container, still a bit iffy about touching it.

"I'll be taking good care of this, dad."

"I know you will."

"You still have that gun?" You spoke as you gestured towards his firearm.

"Yep, she still looks good as new. I didn't want to break my promise," Leon responded. He turned his gun around to show you just how much he kept it safe like a mother would to a child. Your E/C orbs twinkled in admiration, a feeling in your heart you had kept for a very long time flittering in a joyous manner for the first time since you last saw him.

"Nothing's really changed, huh?"

"I don't want to change anything for now...especially now that you're back here with me."

*****

So, I found this image on google and an idea suddenly popped into my head lmao.

Anyway, WE'RE BACK! I was busy in school blah blah blah. I think yall know that already.

#leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leonxreader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #residentevil2 #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic

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myonechicagoworld · 3 years

Text

CHICAGO FIRE – A COFFIN THAT SMALL (S01E19)

[TRIGGER WARNING: kid trapped in laundry chute gif under the cut]

Matt Casey: Hey.

Heather Darden: I am so sorry. I completely zonked out.

Matt Casey: No worries. I didn’t want to wake you.

Heather Darden: What time is it?

Matt Casey: Uh, 7:00.

Heather Darden: Oops, I, uh, I have to pick up the boys from

grandma’s.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Heather Darden: Uh, the baking dish is still dirty, so I’m gonna

wash it.

Matt Casey: I’ll clean it.

Heather Darden: Matt.

Matt Casey: I saw this swing set fort type thing at True Value.

I’ve been meaning to build it for Griffin and Ben.

I’ll bring it and the dish by after shift. If that’s cool

with you.

Heather Darden: Thank you, you’re… that’s very sweet.

Matt Casey: Oh, come on.

Heather Darden: Mind if I use your bathroom?

Matt Casey: Of course.

[knocks on door]

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Matt Casey: Hey.

Kelly Severide: My dad wanted me to drop that off. His way of

apologising for you catching that elbow.

Matt Casey: Thanks.

Kelly Severide: All right, well, I-I’ll see you at the house.

Heather Darden: Do you have any mouthwash?

Matt Casey: Eh… it’s not what you…

Hey.

Hey! It’s not what you think!

Kelly Severide: Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out.

[car door slams, engine starts]

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Hey! Any of you guys know John Pritchard,

or are you all too young?

Matt Casey: He was gone before I came on, but I heard stories.

Mouch: Piece of work, that one.

Otis Zvonecek: What, he died or something?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah! You know, Boden, Mouch and me,

we all knew him back in the day. He

must have been 20 years older than

Boden if that tells you anything.

Otis Zvonecek: What did he die of?

Christopher Herrmann: Old man stuff. I don’t know.

Matt Casey: [chuckles]

Christopher Herrmann: Funeral is tomorrow up at Grayslake.

Otis Zvonecek: Are you guys going?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, I guess, you know? We should

pay our respects.

Matt Casey: All right. Hydrant’s good to go.

Christopher Herrmann: [grunts]

Peter Mills, you get to flush the next

one.

Mouch: By the way, saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

Otis Zvonecek: What the hell’s that?

Mouch: You bet me I couldn’t say a sentence in Japanese. I just

said one. You owe me 20 bucks.

Joe Cruz: [chuckles]

Otis Zvonecek: Okay. (A) I don’t remember that. And (B) how do

I know you’re not just speaking gibberish?

Mouch: It’s a sentence.

Otis Zvonecek: What’s it mean?

Mouch: Pay me 20 bucks, I’ll tell you.

Otis Zvonecek: Ridiculous. You tell me and…

Boy 1: Help! Help!

He fell!

We were playing hide and seek upstairs.

Victim 1 (Little boy): [groans]

Matt Casey: Hang on. We’re coming.

Victim 1 (Little boy): [strangled grunts]

- title -

Joe Cruz: (into radio) This is 81. I need a paramedic across from

our firehouse.

Dispatcher: (over radio) What’s the address?

Joe Cruz: (into radio) Look for our lights!

Let’s go, bro!

Peter Mills: Hit it!

[siren wailing]

Victim 1 (Little boy): [strangled grunts/breathing]

Matt Casey: His neck’s twisted. He can’t breathe.

Boy 1: I told Taye not to go in that chute. He knows better.

Matt Casey: Come with me.

All right, we have to get through this block.

[buzzing]

Boy 1: [crying]

[sirens wailing]

Matt Casey: (over radio) 61, we need you on the second floor.

It’s a child.

Gabby Dawson: What’s going on?

Otis Zvonecek: Kid hid in the laundry chute.

Joe Cruz: Mills, get in here.

Peter Mills: Yeah!

[drilling]

Lady 1 (Mom): Dougie?

Boy 1 (Dougie): [cries] I told him infinity times not to hide in

there [cries]

[indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Okay let’s peel back the front.

Lady 1 (Mom): Taye?

Chief Boden: Ma’am. Ma’am, don’t look.

Lady 1 (Mom): [gasps]

Chief Boden: We’ll get him out. Let them work.

Matt Casey: Get his head.

Lady 1 (Mom): Dougie… Honey, go upstairs.

Chief Boden: Okay.

Lady 1 (Mom): Oh God. Oh Lord.

Matt Casey: Let’s back him out.

Chief Boden: Don’t look.

Lady 1 (Mom): [cries]

Joe Cruz: [grunts]

Grab his legs.

Otis Zvonecek: He’s conscious but barely.

Lady 1 (Mom): Taye! [cries]

Chief Boden: Okay, okay. Okay.

Lady 1 (Mom): [cries]

Joe Cruz: Grab his legs.

Lady 1 (Mom): Taye.

Leslie Shay: Let’s board him quickly.

Chief Boden: Hold on to me.

Lady 1 (Mom): [sobs]

Gabby Dawson: One, two, three.

[grunting]

Gabby Dawson: You the mother?

Lady 1 (Mom): Yes.

Gabby Dawson: You can ride in the back with me. Let’s go.

Chief Boden: Go on.

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: I’ll be right back.

What have you heard?

Lady 1 (Mom): Um… the doctor says it looks bad. It’s a

damaged windpipe, so his brain was…

without oxygen.

Gabby Dawson: Well, they’ve got great surgeons here. They’ll

do everything they can.

Lady 1 (Mom): You know… Taye has been to your firehouse.

Gabby Dawson: Oh yeah?

Lady 1 (Mom): Yeah. His whole class went on a field trip last fall

when the school year started. It was all he could

talk about for days [chuckles] [sniffs]

He said he wants to be a fireman, help people.

Gabby Dawson: That’s… that’s sweet.

Lady 1 (Mom): [sniffs] Gangs are always calling, but he won’t bite.

He’s gonna be straight and narrow, and I believe

that.

Gabby Dawson: I’m sure he will.

Lady 1 (Mom): [sniffles] Thank you.

cutscene

Matt Casey: You gotta be kidding me.

Mouch: I don’t know if I can handle another season like the

last one.

Christopher Herrmann: Hope springs eternal.

Mouch: Hope never met a Sox September.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, well at least you guys have a series win

in the last century. Try being a Cubs fan.

Christopher Herrmann: There’s plenty of room on the

bandwagon if you want to move to

the south side.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah. What are you, Pouch? You Cubs or Sox,

huh?

Christopher Herrmann: Look at her feet. She’s definitely a

White Sox fan.

Joe Cruz: Guys, put a cork in it. I’m trying to listen to the

Hawk.

Mouch: Saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

Otis Zvonecek: What does that mean?

Matt Casey: Hey, if they score, come get me.

Otis Zvonecek: [muttering] Saikensha… Sai…

Chief Boden: Hey Lieutenant. I want to bring you up to speed

on what Kelly’s just filled me in on.

Kelly Severide: I’m gonna push to fast-track Peter Mills to

Squad. The youngest anyone’s every made

it was 23.

Matt Casey: You.

Kelly Severide: I think Mills can break the record. And I talked

to Chief Walker over at District, and he thinks it

would be great for CFD morale.

Matt Casey: Is that what you think, Chief? Great for morale?

Chief Boden: As long as he qualifies.

Matt Casey: Well, sounds like you guys have all the answers.

cutscene

Peter Mills: You wanted to see me, Chief?

Chief Boden: As you’re aware, Lieutenant Severide thinks

that you’ll make a strong addition to Rescue

Squad.

[door closes]

Peter Mills: Yes.

Chief Boden: I just want to hear your take on it.

Peter Mills: I’m gonna bust my ass to make it happen.

Chief Boden: Why?

Peter Mills: I’m sorry?

Chief Boden: Why’s it so important to you?

Peter Mills: ‘Cause I want to be an elite firefighter, sir.

Chief Boden: And this has got nothing to do with your

father?

Peter Mills: No, sir.

This has nothing to do with what my father did

or did not do with his time at the CFD. This is

about me

Chief Boden: Well, since you’ve been here you’ve put on ten

pounds. Which, from where I sit, doesn’t look

like a candidate willing to bust his ass.

[slurps]

[door closes]

Gabby Dawson: Hey, how’s it going?

Peter Mills: Been better.

Gabby Dawson: You need me to take care of someone? Give

me a name.

Peter Mills: Not now.

cutscene

Matt Casey: Heather Darden and me, we’re just friends. She

came over to talk and fell asleep on my couch.

Kelly Severide: Right. Got it.

Matt Casey: I don’t know what you want me to say here.

Kelly Severide: I saw what I saw, Casey. Sell your clean whistle

act to someone else, ‘cause I ain’t buying.

Matt Casey: You can’t imagine you might be wrong about

something, can you?

Kelly Severide: I can imagine a lot of things, just not the idea

of you rolling around with Andy’s widow.

Matt Casey: Come on.

Kelly Severide: Explain to me why Heather barely talks to me,

but she’ll sleep with you, even though you’re

the guy who put her husband through that

window?

[gunshots]

[shouting]

[glass shattering]

Firefighter: Get down!

Get down!

[gunshots]

Christopher Herrmann: What the hell is going on in here?

[tires squealing]

Chief Boden: You okay?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Chief Boden: Casey, are you okay?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Chief Boden: What the hell is going on here, Detective? This

has always been a neighbourhood house.

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): You tell me. No run-ins recently? No

fires where one of your guys tried to

pop off to the local…

Chief Boden: No.

Christopher Herrmann: We’re not cops. People are happy to

see a firefighter show up.

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): Could this be Voight related?

Matt Casey: Voight?

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): When it comes to gang violence, the

man has a long reach. He’s got a

dismissal hearing soon.

Matt Casey: Not like Voight to stir up the nest if he’s trying to

free himself.

Joe Cruz: Man, why don’t you pick up one of these bangers

for something small and trade the bust for what

they know about the shooters?

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): Corner boys in this neighbourhood

are good. We can’t catch them with

the drugs and make the bust stick.

We’ll keep our ears to the ground.

In the meantime, I’ll make sure we

have a conspicuous police presence

around the station.

Chief Boden: Meaning what?

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): Put a special detail on it. Squad

outside. Officer posted in the

house.

Firefighters: [muttering in disagreement]

Chief Boden: Well, that’s fine. So long as the men are safe.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs]

Chief Boden: What?

Christopher Herrmann: Cops in the house is a bad precedent.

Sends a message to the good residents

around here that… we’re not a safe

haven.

Mouch: You rather have one of us be killed?

Christopher Herrmann: Of course not.

Chief Boden: We will let the police handle their business, and

we… will handle ours.

Joe Cruz: [sighs]

cutscene

[police radio chatter]

Otis Zvonecek: Never seen anything like this before.

Joe Cruz: So much for being the neighbourhood’s house.

[engine starts]

[dramatic music]

cutscene

Lady 2 (Barista): Here you go.

Leslie Shay: Thanks.

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Kelly Severide: Hey, any word on that kid pulled out of the

laundry chute?

Leslie Shay: I haven’t heard anything yet.

Hey, what’s going on with you and Casey? It

seemed like…

Kelly Severide: Oh, I don’t… I don’t want to talk about Casey.

Leslie Shay: Okay, fine. We’ll just enjoy watching you two

mark your territory.

Kelly Severide: Ah…

Leslie Shay: So what do you want to talk about?

Kelly Severide: So how would this work? With the, um…

insemination?

Leslie Shay: Well… basically, you know, I’d get a hormone

injection once a day for 12 days to boost

ovulation, then we’d go to a clinic where they

have rooms set aside for collection. Meaning

you know, they give you magazines or

whatever and you go in and do your business.

Kelly Severide: I mean, I get that part

[chuckling]

Kelly Severide: How much does it cost?

Leslie Shay: Uh, all-in, 10 grandish.

Kelly Severide: 10 grand, are you serious?

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Kelly Severide: You have that kind of cash?

Leslie Shay: I’m gonna stretch some card limits and cobble

it together.

Kelly Severide: I’m in.

[laughter]

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: What?

Mouch: You picked him up first?

Christopher Herrmann: Just get in.

Mouch: Now I gotta stare at the back of your head for an

hour?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Mouch: Guess it’s better than getting shot at at the

firehouse.

Boden & Herrmann: [laughs]

[laughter]

Chief Boden: So I come home, try to climb in through the

window, but it’s shut. It’s locked.Oh, okay. I

thought I got a clean getaway, but no. Now

I gotta go around and ring on the damn

doorbell.

[laughter]

Chief Boden: My old man, he’s just sitting in his chair.

Waiting for me. For hours.

Mouch: 3 o’clock in the morning.

Chief Boden: Alcohol on my breath

Mouch: Ooh! [laughs]

Chief Boden: He just stares at me, hard as nails. He says,

“boy, you got four choices where you’re going

to college… Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines…

pick one.”

Mouch: Wow.

Chief Boden: [scoffs]

Christopher Herrmann: At least your old man gave a damn.

Mouch: Oh, Bill Herrmann wasn’t so bad. I’m friends with

Chris’s older brother, Larry. Your dad would throw

the ball with us when he was home.

Christopher Herrmann: Larry did not disappoint him the way

that I did.

Chief Boden: You never told me about your dad.

Christopher Herrmann: Aw, sold luggage to department

stores all over the Midwest. He

was on the road more than he

was home.

Chief Boden: Is that right?

Christopher Herrmann: He wanted me to chase him into

the business like my brother

Larry did, so naturally I took the

fireman’s test.

[chuckling]

Christopher Herrmann: They got this whole thing…

Larry and my dad.

I don’t talk to him that much

anymore.

Mouch: You should call him.

Christopher Herrmann: I should. It’d be that much worse

when he didn’t call me back.

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: [panting]

Peter Mills: What are you doing here?

Gabby Dawson: Maybe being quiet and keeping to

yourself is how it works in the Mills

family, but that’s not how the Dawsons

Dawsons do it.

Peter Mills: Is that so?

Gabby Dawson: Look, if you want to fly solo, you better do it

in bed with your eyes closed, okay? But if

you want to train for Squad, you better get

ready to talk while you run, ‘cause I’m

coming with you.

Hey. I want to be a part of whatever comes your

way.

Peter Mills: Well, then you better tie your shoes first.

Gabby Dawson: Oh!

Peter Mills: [laughs]

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] Oh I’m gonna get you!

cutscene

Chief Boden: This is the right time, right?

Christopher Herrmann: Paper said 3:30.

[organ playing in background]

Christopher Herrmann: Excuse me, is this the Pritchard

funeral?

Man 2 (Mortician): Yes. Yes, we’re about to get underway.

Christopher Herrmann: Oh.

Man 2 (Mortician): Have a seat.

Mouch: Thanks.

Chief Boden: Thanks.

Christopher Herrmann: Are you kidding me with this? Didn’t

he have, like, five sons?

Mouch: Yeah.

Christopher Herrmann: Where’s his family?

Man 3 (Preacher): Welcome, friends. We’re all here today not

to grieve but to celebrate the life of…

John Aaron Pritchard. Matthew 5:4 says,

“Blessed are they who mourn for they

shall be comforted.”

Mouch: Let’s get outta here.

Chief Boden: Amen.

Christopher Herrmann: So, like, I mean, that’s it? I mean

what… half a dozen people, and

no family, and a preacher who

doesn’t even know his name

without looking at the program?

And where’s the truck with a half-

raised ladder and salute to a fallen

firefighter?

Chief Boden: Chris…

Christopher Herrmann: No, I’m serious. What’s my funeral

gonna be like when I kick it? Or

yours, Mouch, huh?

Mouch: Doubt I’ll care.

Christopher Herrmann: All the same, he deserved a funeral

with respect for all of his service.

And just because he waited a dozen

years to die and moved out to the

sticks doesn’t mean that he wasn’t a

hero.

Chief Boden: Let’s go.

Mouch: Shotgun!

Christopher Herrmann: This… this ain’t right! Grr!

cutscene

[indistinct police radio chatter]

Matt Casey: Any word on the shooters?

Uniformed Cop: Nada.

Matt Casey: How was the funeral?

Christopher Herrmann: What’s worse than terrible? It

was that.

Peter Mills: [groans]

Otis Zvonecek: What?

Peter Mills: Oven’s busted.

Christopher Herrmann: What? Blender is too.

[buzzing]

Joe Cruz: Bad news. Remember that kid from last shift?

Trapped in the laundry chute?

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah?

Joe Cruz: Didn’t make it.

Gabby Dawson: He came here, this kid. He was here on a

class field trip.

He told his mom he wanted to be a fireman

when he got home.

Peter Mills: Wow, I recognise him. It was my first day. You

guys had me give the tour.

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales] Man I remember that.

Joe Cruz: Funeral’s on Friday.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey pop, it’s Christopher. Just…

checking in. I know it’s been a

while, and… anyway just call

me back.

cutscene

Kelly Severide: You know what the worst part is?

Matt Casey: What is the worst part, Kelly?

Kelly Severide: That you don’t have enough sack to

admit you’re sleeping with Heather.

At least come clean.

Matt Casey: Keep walking. I’m done explaining myself.

Kelly Severide: You haven’t explained a damn thing!

That’s the point!

Matt Casey: ‘Cause you’re wrong!

Don’t come up on me again like this.

Kelly Severide: Really?

Chief Boden: What the hell is going on here?

In my office, now.

[object clatters]

Chief Boden: We’ve been here before. Almost tore

this house apart.

Kelly Severide: This time, it’s different.

Chief Boden: Tell me about it.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, Casey, tell him about it.

Matt Casey: No offense, Chief.

[door shuts]

cutscene

Leslie Shay: So what do you think about the whole

Casey/Heather thing?

Gabby Dawson: Uh… I don’t know.

Leslie Shay: Hmm. You haven’t asked him?

Gabby Dawson: We’ve said like two sentences to each

other in a month.

Hey, what’s your name?

Man 4: Phillip.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] All right, let’s get you up, Phillip.

Come on.

Here we go [groans]

Leslie Shay: Whoa!

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Leslie Shay: Phillip, that is not the kind of full moon I was

expecting to see today.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs]

Leslie Shay: Come on.

Gabby Dawson: Here we go.

Leslie Shay: All right, keep your pants up.

Gabby Dawson: Whew! So Severide’s, uh, little swimmers,

huh?

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: And who’s paying for this?

Leslie Shay: [sighs] I don’t know.

Gabby Dawson: You know, there’s another, cheaper alternative.

Leslie Shay: Oh, come on.

Gabby Dawson: What? I’m just saying.

Leslie Shay: Oh boy.

Gabby Dawson: Nature has already worked out a lot of these

details.

Come on. Oh!

[engine revving]

[tires squealing]

[horn beeping]

Leslie Shay: (into radio) I need a 10-1 to East Van Buren, now!

Dispatcher: (over radio) What’s the nature of the call?

Leslie Shay: (into radio) Someone’s stealing our ambulance!

[horn beeping]

[tires screeching]

Gabby Dawson: Hey!

Man 5 (Thief): What the hell?

Gabby Dawson: Pull over!

Man 5 (Thief): Shut up!

Gabby Dawson: You can’t steal an ambulance!

Man 5 (Thief): I said shut up!

Gabby Dawson: Listen to me, moron!

Man 5 (Thief): Quit talking to me!

[horn honking]

Gabby Dawson: This ambulance has GPS. They can track us in

the city so they know where we’re at at all

times. When you hear the beep that means

that they’re about to shut down the engine!

Man 5 (Thief): What are you talking about?

Gabby Dawson: They’re gonna turn off the engine, lock up the

tires, and send your face flying through the

windshield.

[sirens approaching]

Man 5 (Thief): That ain’t true!

[police sirens wailing]

Gabby Dawson: Here it comes!

[beeping]

Gabby Dawson: You should buckle up!

[beeping continues]

Man 5 (Thief): Damn it!

[tires screeching]

Gabby Dawson: [heavy breathing]

Man 5 (Thief): [groans]

[siren whoops]

Gabby Dawson: Somebody call for an ambulance?

Leslie Shay: Come on, Philip.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

[door closes]

Leslie Shay: [clears throat] I know this may not be the best time,

um, but I have a new proposal. So please don’t

say anything or make any funny faces.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

Leslie Shay: Okay. Uh… I can’t afford the insemination. So I’ve

been thinking about Plan B. And I propose…

when the time is right, you go into your room with

magazines or Skinemax or whatever you need to

get yourself ready. And then with the lights out,

you signal me by calling out my name once. You’ll

hear your door open, footsteps. And… and then

you’ll be mounted. You will finish your business

inside of me as quickly and efficiently as possible.

And then I’ll be out the door, so you can clean up

or whatever you need to do. At which point, I will

need to be alone. Most likely to cry. And we will

never speak of this to anyone ever [chuckles] for

the rest of our lives. And… I thank you for

listening. Just think about it.

[door shuts]

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: [sighs]

[phone buzzing]

Gabby Dawson: Here we go. Here we go.

Sit. Sit.

Mouch: What the hell are you doing?

Christopher Herrmann: I’m not standing near any windows.

Mouch: Well, it ain’t exactly easy to watch the ballgame with

you staring back at me.

You think the shooters are going to text you before

they open fire?

Christopher Herrmann: I broke down and called my old

man. I got nothing back.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] Mills, what’s for lunch?

Peter Mills: Oh, um, I was bringing in some beef tips but I

don’t think they’re gonna taste that good raw,

so, uh, we can do some pimento cheese

sandwiches…

Joe Cruz: How about Al’s beef?

Peter Mills: Okay, all right. We’ll do Al’s beef.

Matt Casey: Call it in.

Peter Mills: I will. All right.

Mouch: Oh Otis!

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah?

Mouch: Uh, saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

Otis Zvonecek: Seriously, up yours, Mouch.

Mouch: [chuckles] Hey, you know who knows how to

translate that? Andrew Jackson [laughs]

Chief Boden: Dawson, where’s Shay?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, I don’t know.

Chief Boden: This is Tara Little. She’s a candidate. She’s

gonna be riding along with you guys for the

next few shifts for evaluation.

Gabby Dawson: Cool.

Lady 3 (Tara Little): Hey, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard

a lot about you.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, don’t pay any attention to what these

guys have to say. Especially Frick and

Frack over here.

Lady 3 (Tara Little): Oh, which one’s Frick?

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] Come on.

Matt Casey: What’s that?

Peter Mills: Oh, it’s… yeah I keep the cooking club cash

hidden here. That-that’s cool, right?

Matt Casey: Yeah. Yeah it-it’s fine. I’ll get the food.

Peter Mills: No, I don’t mind. I’ll grab it.

Matt Casey: I got it.

[car door shuts]

Matt Casey: I want to talk to whoever’s in charge.

Young Man 1 (Dealer): Nah, get back in your truck.

Matt Casey: Not a cop. Not armed.

Young Man 1 (Dealer): Nah man, get back in your truck.

Matt Casey: I just want to talk.

[game sounds on TV]

Young Man 1 (Dealer): [clears throat]

[door closes]

Matt Casey: You in charge?

Young Man 2 (Greshawn): Who wants to know?

Matt Casey: My name’s Casey. I’m the Lieutenant at

Firehouse 51 down the street.

Young Man 2 (Greshawn): So?

Matt Casey: Someone tried to pop a couple shots into our

house in broad daylight. Could have killed

someone. Someone who works to protect

this neighbourhood every single day. Now I

know why. You guys hide your drugs in the

hydrants, don’t you?

Look, we have to flush those hydrants twice

a year. Otherwise one of these buildings is

on fire… yours maybe. It burns down

because there’s no water in our hoses. You

know, I’m not stupid enough to think that

you’re gonna give up selling your junk

because I come in here, but I’m telling you,

you hide it in the hydrants, it’s gonna get

flushed.

Young Man 2 (Greshawn): You done?

Matt Casey: No. Like it or not, we all gotta coexist here,

right? This is our neighbourhood. You

don’t own it.

[door closes]

cutscene

Leslie Shay: Hey. Guess what?

Kelly Severide: What’s up?

Leslie Shay: Well, my dad just called. He’s gonna pay

for the insemination. Says he was

worried that he’d never be a grandpa.

Kelly Severide: That’s great.

Leslie Shay: Yeah. So you know, back to Plan A.

cutscene

[indistinct radio chatter]

Otis Zvonecek: You know what? Fine.

Mouch: Saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

Creditors have better memories than

debtors.

[train passing]

Mouch: Hey, Lieutenant, okay if we make a quick

stop. Won’t take long, I promise.

Matt Casey: Sure.

Mouch: Cruz, take a right here.

Matt Casey: This is the right place?

Mouch: This is it.

Christopher Herrmann: Aw, come on Mouch. What

is this?

Mouch: Just wait. I want you to see this.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Man 6: Randy! How are you?

Mouch: What do you say, Larry?

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): Good to see you man. Hey.

Chris.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, Larry, how you been?

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): You’re not getting away with

a handshake. Come here,

little brother.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, good to see you.

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): [chuckles] All right.

Hey.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey. Wow you guys have grown.

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): Yeah. How long has it been since

you’ve been here?

Christopher Herrmann: I… don’t remember. Uh, dad around?

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): No, he’s in Boston. He’s supposed

to be selling socks to Filene’s

basement, but he’s probably

already in line for bleacher seats at

Fenway. Randy called and said you

were down about dad. So come on.

There’s something you should see.

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): You should hear him talk about his

son the firefighter. I can’t get him

to shut up about it.

cutscene

[dishes clattering]

Chief Boden: Okay.

Mrs Leppert.

Lady 1 (Mom/Mrs Leppert): Chief.

Hello. I’m sorry to bother you.

Chief Boden: No, not at all. We’re all very sorry about your

son.

Lady 1 (Mom/Mrs Leppert): Thank you. You may know he was

here once. And… he wanted to

be a fireman ever since. Anyway,

he would have been happy to

know you guys were there at the

end. And he would have wanted

you to have this. Thank you for

what you do in this

neighbourhood.

Chief Boden: Thank you.

We owe this kid. We owe Taye better than this.

We are better than this.

[somber music]

Christopher Herrmann: I have an idea.

Chief Boden: Ten-hut!

Chief Boden: Present arms!

- end -

Definitions:

Saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi = Creditors have better memories than debtors

Hope springs eternal = Said when you continue to hope that something will happen, although it seems unlikely

10-1 = Fireman/firemen needs emergency help

Frick and Frack = English slang term used to refer to two people so closely associated as to be indistinguishable

Filene’s Basement = Department store company

Ten-hut = Come to attention!

14 notes · View notes

5289belle · 3 years

Text

Captain America’s Legacy

Summary: When Katerina Rogers watches as the flags smashers cause further mayhem, she knows she needs to come out of hiding and go help Sam and Bucky take them down, all while dealing with the fact that the United States government replaced her dad with some idiot as Captain America.

Meet Katerina (Katy) Rogers, the daughter of Natasha and Steve. Will take place during the falcon and the winter solider with some flashbacks to black widow and civil war. Also Tony is alive in this timeline, Steve did that snap instead, Natasha still died getting the soul stone.

Part Two

Walking along the road the three had been silent for twenty minutes now. Then Sam spoke up, “Wait, how did you know where to find me Kat?” He looked at her with questioning in his eyes.

“Oh that, ha easy. I tracked you through your phone, GPS can be really helpful.” She said with a laugh.

“Since when do you know how to hack?”

Looking at him with a smirk she responded lightly “Tony showed me how, about nine years ago. I just never felt the need to use it much on missions. What with Tony and all his techno stuff, and then when we went on the run it just never came up.

Bucky had been just staring ahead stoically the whole time, Sam just shook his head as they continued on. Looking over to Bucky Sam asked

“What going on in that cyborg brain of yours?”

“It’s computing”

Sam chuckled at that, while Katy broke out in a smile and tried not to snort. “You know what I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning. Oh, they’re malfunctioning shutting down. Yep, they’re on fire.”

Ignoring him Bucky interrupted with “We gotta figure out where the serum’s coming from.”

“Yeah. And how in the hell after 80 years are there eight super soldiers runnin’ loose?”

“Well, lets first ask where do we start? Who made the serum?” Katy spoke up from between them.

Slowly they heard the car come up beside them, honking. Looking over she noticed it was Walker and Hoskins, great she thought and tried not to roll her eyes too hard.

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” Walker asked the trio.

Pointedly ignoring him they continued walking on, a few moments later Walker continued on “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh?

And were pretty sure it’s one of the big three, so..”

Sam replies with “Aliens, androids, or wizards right?

“Pretty sure” Walker say’s looking at them hopefully.

Annoyed Bucky interrupts with “There’s no such thin as wizards.”

“Alright then it’s aliens or androids”

Sam responds with “Or super soldiers.”

Surprised Hoskins asks “Shit, super soldiers, for real?”

“Yeah”

“All right, well then we gotta work together” John says to them, having enough of the conversation Bucky say “That’s not happening”, which is quickly followed up by Katy with “Yeah, no. Were good, we can handle this ourselves.”

John replies “I think we stand a much better chance if we all just..”

Interrupting him Bucky yells quietly “Just cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean your Captain America.”

“Exactly, just saying you’re Captain America just doesn’t make it so. It’s title that has to be earned, and its sacred.” Katy responds with a scowl on her face. She can barely contain her rage at his presence. This was not good for her mental health.

“Look, I’ve done the work, okay?”

Looking at John, Bucky asks “You ever jump on top of a grenade?”

“Or put your life on the line for the greater good?” she adds on.

“Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It’s a thing I do with my helmet, it’s a reinforced helmet and I’ve put my life on the line many times in the heat of battle.” John responds, trying to defend his honor. “Look, it’s twenty miles to the airport you three need a ride?”

Katy just scoffs at this and looks ahead with her jaw clenched

“Guy’s. Gary stop. Get in.”

Reluctantly they stop and get, leaving her to be sandwiched between Sam and Bucky.

“Okay, so we’ve got eight super soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?”

Thinking it over Sam respond’s “They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip. Maybe they’re just trying to help.”

“They had a funny way of showing it.” Bucky says.

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record.” John says then looks over to Bucky and Katy and says “No offense”

She merely raises her eyebrow and declines to responds.

“We need to figure out where their going. How’d you track ‘em

Here? The flag smashers?” Sam asks.

Hoskins joins in “uh, no we didn’t track them, we tracked you, uh, through redwing.”

“You hacked my tech?” Sam say’s angered

Chuckling Walker replies “Sorry, it’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property.

Meanwhile Bucky was just staring directly towards Walker, noticing he voices out “Does he always just stare like that?”

Sam glances at Bucky and responds, “You get used to it.”

Clearing his throat John say’s to them “okay look, you know things have gotten kind of, uh…” Hoskins finishes his sentence with “Chaotic”

“Yeah. The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post blip.

Ignoring them for a few seconds she just tunes them out. Living in Europe for the past six months and moving around from place to place she’s seen the displacement camps and knows that the GRC has been useless for they people who never disappeared. As always the government was ignoring the larger picture in order to fix a smaller picture with a quick fix. Leading to more problems, like the flag smashers… If her dad was here he would know what to do…

Sighing she stopped her train of thought, with her heart constricting in sadness at the mere thought. It still hurt too much to think about them. She would drive herself insane if she kept thinking what if?

Coming back to the conversation at hand she heard Walker say “If you guys, if you joined up with us we could..”

“No” Bucky and Katy said in unison.

“I got mad respect for the three of you, the falcon, the winter soldier and Captain Widow. But you were getting your asses kicked till we showed up” Hoskins said to the three.

“What?” she asked in confusion, looking over at Hoskins she continued “What did you call me?

“Captain Widow, that’s your superhero name right? Cause your dad was Captain America and your mom was Black Widow”

Shaking her head in confusion and annoyance she asks

“Is that what everyone refers to me as?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Just no, I just…” she sighs and doesn’t know how to respond. Since when did she get that moniker? The Captain Widow? Seriously!.. Well, it was at least better than the other one she had been given…

While she pondering over the recent revelation Buck asks “Who are you?”

“Lemar Hoskins”

“Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter on tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins.”

“I’m Battlestar. John’s partner.

“Battlestar!?” Bucky says, clearly his hurt by this. With that he’s had enough and calls for the car to stop and leaves, she happily joins him. Glad to be gone from that situation. Walking side by side, she looks over to him and notices the grimace on his face. Clearly he was not taking the news well.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” he says dismissively. Sam then walks up to them and joins them on their silent walk back to the airport.

With that Bucky stands up and walk over to Sam and sits down next to him and looks between him and Katy. “There is someone that you two should meet.”

Some time later, Bucky is sitting on a crate thinking pensively while Sam and Katy are laying on the seats.

“Let’s take the shield. Let’s takes the shield and do this ourselves.”

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it.”

“Why not? It would certainly make me happy” Katy says, now she can’t stop picturing it, she doesn’t know why but something about his face just makes her want to punch him.

“Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?”

“Maybe”

“Possibly” she says.

“I’ll help you two in case you forgot. Sharon was branded enemy of the state, and Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Kat and I were on the run for two years. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca. We just got our asses handed to us by super soldiers, and we got nothing.”

Interrupting she say responds “Not entirely true, we know there’s at least eight of them, and that they steal supplies, like medicine and stuff. Plus, they know how to handle themselves in a fight.”

With that they head off to Baltimore Maryland. Where Sam and Katy find out there was a black super soldier since the fifties and no one knew about it, not even Steve. Sam is angry at the revelation, how could no one tell him, why was it a secret. Katy is just shocked, she had no idea that the U.S had also had their own batch of super soldiers they were using, she thought it was just the Soviet Union with the Black Widow program.

While Sam is having it out with Bucky suddenly a siren wails out as a cop patrol car rolls up and stops in front of them. “What could they possibly want?” She asks out loud.

“Hey, is there a problem here?” One of the officers ask.

“No, we’re just talking.”

“We’re fine” Bucky adds on, Katy responds dismissively “We’re good, thank you though. We don’t need your assistance, have a good day”

The officer walks up to Sam and singles him out asking him for his ID, at this Bucky says “Man, seriously?”

“I don’t have ID, why?”

“Okay sir, just calm down.”

Affronted Sam goes on “I am calm, what do you want.”

“Just give him your ID”

“NO, I’m giving him shit We’re just talking”

“Hey is this guy bothering you two?”

“No, he’s not bothering us. Do you know who this is?”

The other officer walks up to his partner and whispers something to him, then the other one apologizes to Sam.

Before long, Bucky is being arrested for missing his court mandated therapy.

A couple hours later the three find themselves at the precinct. In the lobby Sam and Katy are waiting to hear news about Bucky when his therapist walks up to them.

“Sam. I’ve heard a lot about you.” turning to look over at Katy she asks “and who are you?”.

“Hi, I’m Katerina Rogers, but you can call me Katy. May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’s therapist”.

Walking up to her he shakes her hand and replies “So nice to meet you. Thank you for getting him out.” Katy smiles at her nodding her head along.

“That was not me”

“Christina, it’s great to see you again.” Walkers voice rang out.

“You got to be kidding me you know him?” Sam asked Dr. Raynor.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in. Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer. walking up to her he smiled.

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?”

Pointing to himself “Um..”

Rolling her eyes on the sideline Katy thought to herself at least he did something good for Bucky, this way they can carry on the mission. He’s still pretentious, but I suppose he not the absolute worst…

Just then they released Bucky and he came walking up to the group.

With that Walker told them he would be outside waiting for them.

“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam and Katy.”

“That’s okay. I’ll be out here with Katy..” Sam replied while Katy also rang out “Oh, no I couldn’t join in..”

“That wasn’t a request”

The two looked to each other in defeat and then followed after Bucky and the Dr.

Sitting down at a table with Dr. Raynor on the other side the three were all seated next to each other with Katy in the middle, each were silent and brooding, clearly not wanting to be there.

“So.. Who would like to start?”

Pursing her lips Katy stubbornly remained silent. Sam chose to speak first “All right, look Dr. Raynor? I get it, why you want me to talk to freaky magoo over here. But I’m 100% fine”

“It is my job to make sure that you’re okay. You to Katy, I heard that you just disappeared six months ago without a trace after your parent’s funeral. I can imagination how hard that must have been. I know your friends here were worried about you. And so yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional but it’s the only way I can see if you’re getting over whatever’s eating at you guys.”

“Look I appreciate the concern I do, however I’m perfectly fine. I just needed a break, all good now..” Katy said trying to excuse herself. The Dr. just looked at her and then to the other two.

“This is ridiculous” Sam said afterwards, Bucky followed up with “Yeah. I agree.”

“See making progress already. So who wants to go first? No volunteers, wow. How surprising. Okay. We’re going to do an exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

“Absolutely not”

“Of course, not”

“What is that?”

“Okay it goes like this, suppose that while you’re sleeping a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?”

“In my miracle he would talk less.”

“exactly what I was gonna say, Isn’t that ironic?”

“These two would banter less.”

“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.”

“I like this one better” Bucky says with a smile while Sam smiled and responds “Oh, God. He’s gonna love this.” Katy merely says, “I’m good, I’ll just watch.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“This is right up your alley”

“Katy, you have to join in. I really think this would be helpful for you three.” Dr. Raynor responds to the three’s remarks. “Turn around, face each other.”

All three scoot out with their chairs and then scoot right back in forming a triangle with their knees touching.

“You should really enjoy this.” Sam says aloud to Bucky.

Looking right back at him with a sarcastic smile he replies, “I’m going to” While nodding his head. “This will be fun” Katy remarks, trying to lighten the mood and her nerves. Just great.

“Face each other”

“Let’s do it. Let’s stare” Bucky says to them.

“Get close”

“How much closer can we get? Our knees are touching?” Katy says confused. Bucky looks to his doctor and says “This is a good exercise. Thanks Doc.

“All right, good. All right, get close.”

With that they mange to get closer by arranging their knees to open up and allow the other ones to slide in closer on her left side Sam sits with his knees by hers, while on the right Bucky sits with his knee on hers, their other knees our on each other’s. All three our extremely uncomfortable.

“It’s a little close” Bucky says. “That’s what you wanted right?” Sam replies, Katy just sits there shaking her head. Dr. Raynor interrupts with “Guys, good. Now look at each other.

Looking up they look into each other’s eyes, Sam and Bucky are just staring at each other, both refusing to blink. While Katy looks right at their eyebrows refusing to make eye contact, fed up with the whole situation and their childish staring contest.

“Wait, what are you doing? Are you having a staring contest?” Snapping her fingers, she says blink to them repeatedly until they snap out of it. Katy looks up relieved.

“All right James, why does Sam aggravate you?”

Looking up her with a smirk he’s about to respond when she replies, “and don’t say something childish.”

At that he licks his lips and looks down, getting serious. Looking to Sam he asks, “Why did you give up that shield?”

At this Katy looks to Sam with the same questioning look, she desperately needs to know that answer to this. Why did he give it up to the museum when he could have given it to her…?

“Why are you making such a big deal out of something that had nothing to do with you?”

Finally, she speaks up, “Why didn’t you pass it on to me? If you didn’t want it?”

Looking over to her he responds “You went AWOL, we couldn’t find you. How could I have given to you when you weren’t there. I thought you would like that it went to the museum with the rest of the Captain America exhibition.”

Looking down in pain, she purses her lips and then glances back up

“Okay, so maybe it would have been hard to give to me if you couldn’t find me. I just don’t know why you thought I would rather have it collecting dust in a museum…”

Speaking up Bucky looked to Sam “Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.

“Shut up”

“So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you he was wrong about me.”

“Or me” she muttered.

“You finished?”

“Yeah”

“All right, good. Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand. But can you except that I did what I thought was right?

Bucky just looks down; Sam absorbs this and scoffs “You know what Doc? I don’t have time for this. We have some real serious shit going on. So how about this? I will squash it right now. We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations, and never see each other again.”

“I like that”

“Great”

“You two can’t mean that!?”

Nodding his head Sam responds “Well, let’s get to work. Thanks Doc, for making it weird. I feel much better. I’ll see you outside. Getting up Sam walk out with Katy right on his heels, she looks back to check on Bucky and then continues on outside.

Meeting Walker and Hoskins outside they conclude that it would be better to work apart, all thought now they know the leader’s name is Karli Morgenthau. While walking down the street Bucky speaks up and says he knows a place to start. So now their heading to Germany, off to see Zemo..

Walking along the hallway in the prison Bucky lets them know he’s going in there alone.

“Why?”

“You two are avengers. You know how he feels about that.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together.”

“He was obsessed with hydra. We have a history together. Trust me. I got it.”

With that Bucky walks off leaving Sam and Katy to wait there.

An hour later they find themselves in a old building while Bucky explains he wants to break Zemo out of jail, how he could escape.

Sam is not having it, and neither is Katy.

“You want to break out the guy who tried to break up the avengers and framed you for a bombing?” she asked him shocked. She knew they were desperate for leads but not that desperate.

“Where are we, Buck? Have you lost you mind?” Sam called out.

“We have no leads no moves, nothing”

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars. “

“And we also have eight super soldiers that are loose.”

“It’s not the worst plan I suppose. Better than joining up with Walker and Hoskins.” She joins in.

Looking over at her incredulously Sam continues “Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours. No offense.”

Turning on the lights he says “Offense”

“Why are we on a mechanic shop? That where we are right?” she says looking to Bucky for answers.

“Super soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy but he still has a code.”

“I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you and Kat. He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans for about it? It’s a rhetorical question. They didn’t I know why this matter to you, buts it pushing you off the deep end.”

“Sam, we don’t know how they’re getting’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I?”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything” Bucky empathizes.

Tilting her head at that Katy looks over and ask, “So what’s this hypothetical?”

As Bucky is explaining the gears in her head are turning and she starting to figure out that everything he is saying has either already happened or currently is. Half expecting Zemo to come walking in any minute now. She’s not disappointed when he does. Sam however is livid.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa”

“No listen”

“What are you doin’ here?” Sam questions.

“I didn’t want to you, cause I knew you wouldn’t let this happen. “

“What did you do?”

“We need him”

“This has gotta be good” she says.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam shouts

“If I may” Zemo begins before both Bucky and Sam interrupts yelling “NO”

Zemo mutters “apologies” as Katy watches and tilts her head. How polite she thought to herself.

Looking to both Katy and Sam Bucky say “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me.”

“Of course, you were innocent, and those accords were utter bullshit, just another way for the UN to try and make the avengers their very own weapon to be used when they so desired.” She looks to him, and licks her lips, “I would do it all over again”

“I’m asking for you to do it again” he says while looking into her eyes, mesmerized by his ice blues eyes she mutters “Always, I’ll always help if you need. Until the end.” Turning to Sam he looks at him questioningly, waiting for his answer.

Zemo breaks in with “I really think I’m invaluable..”

“Shut up” Sam breaks in and looks back to Bucky and Katy.

“Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair”

“Okay Zemo, where do we start?”

#bucky x y/n #bucky x oc #KaterinaRogers #bucky and reader

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Eyes on the Road” (Rated M)

Summary: Driving down the highway while on vacation, Kurt notices how tense his husband looks and decides to try something he saw in a movie once to loosen him up. It does the job a little too well ... (1970 words)

Notes: This is a re-write I decided to do for Halloween because I think it's really funny. XD Inspired by the movie 'Parenthood'.

Part 58 of Daddies.

Read on AO3.

“That was the insurance agent,” Sebastian says, putting his jacket around Kurt’s shoulders and rubbing his husband’s arms to keep the chill of the night air away. “They're sending a tow. We're gonna call an Uber to take us to the hotel, but they’ll have a rental for us in the morning.”

“That’s … that’s great,” Kurt grumbles. "Just peachy."

Sebastian snickers. Kurt's cheeks flame red and he hangs his head. He can’t look Sebastian in the eyes, but he also doesn’t want to see Sebastian’s baby - his Porsche Cayman - wrapped around the trunk of an ancient English Oak.

Kurt isn't angry at his husband. This isn't Sebastian's fault. And for as bad as this night has been, Kurt is more embarrassed than upset.

“Are you alright? Nothing hurts? Nothing broken?” Sebastian asks for the fifth time, and for the fifth time, Kurt answers, “Yeah … sure … great.”

There’s nothing else Kurt can think of to say. Physically, he’s fine. Emotionally, he could live a hundred years and never, ever live this down.

Plus, Sebastian is being such a good sport about this.

That makes this whole situation suck worse.

They’re supposed to be on vacation. They got Thomas excused from school and took one week away to visit Kurt’s dad over Halloween. That way, Burt wouldn't have to travel hours to see his grandson dress in costume and go begging for candy.

But Kurt and Sebastian had ulterior motives. They planned this trip to Ohio to escape everything: PTA meetings, stress, Sebastian’s ultra-needy clients, and Kurt’s new winter clothing line, coming together slowly, but on time for the Vogue Winter Extravaganza.

They'd been traveling to the city more than normal, and they both agreed that they'd forgotten how crowded and hectic it could be, especially at the start of the holidays. It's just Halloween, but that's the top step of a slide that shoots straight into Thanksgiving, loop-de-loops for a few weeks, then slingshots into Christmas.

Isabelle is pretty good about leaving Kurt be when he needs time away and diverting business calls to his receptionist. But Sebastian’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing, which tends to happen when every client you have thinks they're your only client. He shut the damn thing off, but that didn’t solve the problem. It only delayed it for a while. Once he turned it back on, he found he had a million messages, both text and voice, and in less than a minute, it began to ring again.

Sebastian had to change his ring tone. As much as he loves the song Running Home to You, he got sick of hearing it so much.

He didn't want this vacation to be the catalyst that made him hate it.

Driving down the interstate from the Hummel house to their hotel, Sebastian looked tense, gripping the wheel so tightly, Kurt thought he might tear it off the steering column. Kurt's dad and stepmom had noticed Sebastian on edge, too. They offered to take Thomas for the night, giving Kurt and Sebastian some alone time at their hotel.

But Kurt couldn't wait till they got there.

He had to do something. He’d never seen Sebastian so wound up.

He was afraid that if he didn’t find a way to calm Sebastian down, he’d snap, veer off the highway in a rage, and drive straight into a tree.

Not really, but Kurt had an appreciation for the dramatic.

At most, Sebastian would get back to their room and spend the whole night watching Battlestar Galactica reruns on TV.

He'd been prescribed medication for a chronic case of stress-related acid reflux and had suffered three major bouts of insomnia since the beginning of the fiscal year. Kurt didn’t want that to happen again, not here, where they had come back to the familiar to get away from it all.

Kurt had an idea, but he didn’t know quite how to execute it. It wasn’t exactly his idea. It came from an old movie his dad had been watching during A&E’s Salute to Steve Martin. Kurt had rolled his eyes when he saw it, thought it immature and uncouth. But looking at Sebastian, a vein throbbing in his neck from the anxiety of phone call avoidance, Kurt thought he would give it a try.

What could it hurt?

Kurt had given Sebastian countless hand jobs while driving before. A blow job couldn’t be much more difficult.

Sebastian was focused on the road, his brain caught in a web of issues that had nothing to do with Lima, Halloween, visiting his in-laws, or even Kurt. He didn’t notice Kurt undo the buckle of his belt, unbutton the fly of his jeans, then sneak underneath his arm to get at his flaccid member. It took Kurt grabbing his husband’s cock and sticking it in his mouth before Sebastian reacted, jumping at the unexpected sensation of hot and wet, then letting out a long gasp as that heat crept under his skin.

“God, Kurt,” Sebastian moaned. “W-what are you doing? You can’t … we shouldn’t … be doing that now.”

"Wow," Kurt mumbled. "That's quite a change of tune for the man who used to accept a b.j. pretty much anywhere."

"True, but I'm older. Wiser. Undecided as to whether or not I want my obituary to mention that this is how I died."

“You don’t think you’re a good enough driver to handle a little distraction?” Kurt looked up from Sebastian’s lap, a half-smile on his moistened lips.

“I didn’t say that.” That, to Kurt, was as good as the go-ahead, and he went back to circling the head of Sebastian’s cock with his tongue. “B-but …” Sebastian interrupted in a shuddering voice, “w-what if a cop notices your head in my lap and we get pulled over?”

Kurt climbed up Sebastian’s chest - right hand stroking slowly, the fingers of his left threading into his husband’s hair. “I’ll just tell that nosy officer that I was sitting here beside my sexy husband, getting hard and bothered, and I couldn’t help myself. I just had to have my mouth on him. Then I’d tell him to move along.”

Sebastian smirked. “You’d say that, hmm?”

“You bet your gorgeous ass I would.” And Kurt sank slowly back into his husband’s lap to get his mouth around him again.

“But I wanna be able to properly enjoy it,” Sebastian whined as his husband’s talented tongue began long laps up and down his shaft.

“If you don’t enjoy it,” Kurt purred, “I promise a repeat performance back at the hotel.”

“Mmm, I'm gonna hold you to that.”

“Please do.” Kurt paused a moment to kiss Sebastian gently down the length of his erection – soft little pecks he knew drove his husband wild. “So relax, keep your eyes on the road, and try not to kill us, okay?”

“O-okay,” Sebastian agreed, adjusting his seat as far back as it would go and toeing the pedals to let Kurt work his magic.

Kurt hadn’t meant to make this the best b.j. of Sebastian’s life. He didn't even think that was possible at this point in Sebastian's sexual life. He had hoped to keep his husband at a low boil, relax him but leave him a horny mess so that when they got back to their room, the real fun could begin. But Sebastian sounded like he was enjoying it so much, that he was so desperate to cum, it spurred Kurt on. He found himself doing everything he could to make his husband moan louder, buck up into his mouth, swear like a sailor.

It didn’t take long to get Sebastian to the point where he was shallowly, but rhythmically, snapping his hips. And even though Kurt had intended on torturing him all the way back to their hotel, he was kind of relieved. He had heard Sebastian’s car engine rev twice now. Kurt couldn’t get a good look at the speedometer, but he had a feeling his husband might be exceeding the speed limit.

“Oh, God, Kurt. I’m … I’m cumming, Kurt. I’m …” It was at the moment of his fantastic climax that Sebastian shut his eyes for a split second, opening them when a horn honked too loud and much too close for comfort. Sebastian turned the wheel abruptly, swerving out of the path of oncoming traffic and plowing into a tree. How ever he hit the aged oak, the airbags malfunctioned, which turned out to be a blessing since the force behind one of those deploying might have snapped Kurt’s neck. As it was, Sebastian had managed to slow down enough that, even though the damage to the vehicle looked tremendous, the two shaken men were able to unbuckle their seat belts and exit the car.

Kurt’s mother always said that a separate God looked after fools and children.

Kurt peeks up at the smoking remains of Sebastian’s demolished engine.

Kurt is a thirty-five-year-old man. That definitely makes him a fool.

Flashing lights approach from the slow lane and pull up beside Sebastian’s wrecked Porsche. Kurt knew a highway patrol officer would probably be along any time, but he still didn’t want to have to face up to what happened. Not to a man with a badge and a gun.

The officer doesn’t get out of his patrol car right away, which unnerves Kurt. But he has to remember that the man has things he has to do first: run Sebastian’s plates, check the secret police database to make sure it’s not stolen, that two men fitting their descriptions aren’t wanted by the law. When the officer does leave his car, he has in his possession the brightest flashlight Kurt has ever seen. He shines it almost in their eyes, its beam bouncing from Sebastian, who raises a hand and waves; to Kurt, who nods solemnly and looks down at his shoes; to the once immaculate black car, folded almost in half. Luckily, no one had pulled over with them, either to help them or harass them, so the only two people who know what happened are Kurt and Sebastian.

And Kurt intends on taking this to his grave.

“Good evening,” the officer says. “You gentlemen look like you got yourselves into a bit of trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian says. “I’m afraid we did.”

“Are either of you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

Kurt curls in on himself further, but Sebastian shakes his head, cool and calm, as if his husband isn’t trying to disappear into his own skin like the house at the end of the movie Poltergeist that crumbled inside out before blinking out of existence.

“No,” Sebastian answers. “Luckily, we both came out okay. Not even a scratch.”

“That’s good to hear.” The officer approaches them, wearing a genuine-enough smile. “Do you need a tow truck?”

“No.” Sebastian continues to carry the conversation while Kurt, maintaining a low profile, is quietly impressed by how collected his husband sounds. Maybe that blow job helped a little. Kurt has that to be proud of. It probably wasn’t worth a $60,000 car, though. “I contacted my insurance company. They’re sending a tow.”

“Great. In that case, can either one of you tell me what happened?”

Sebastian glances sideways at his mortified husband, a smile on his lips hiding multiple embarrassing remarks at Kurt’s expense.

“Uh, do you want to tell him what happened, Kurt?” Sebastian asks. “You did say that you’d handle it.”

“No,” Kurt replies quietly, holding himself tighter, thinking that now is not the appropriate time for his husband to be teasing him. Though, if Kurt had stuck to what was appropriate and waited till they got to their hotel room before deep-throating his husband, they might not be in this mess. “No, I do not.”

#kurtbastian fic #kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt

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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

Text

the dark side (jj maybank x shoupe’s daughter) ch. 4

word count: 3.6k (oops)

warnings: underage drinking, cannabis use, vomit, physical violence, unedited

summary: catherine shoupe has the perfect life. when she gets hired by heyward to run groceries, she has a new coworker - jj maybank. as the deputy’s daughter, she can’t help but hate him. but when jj decides to bring her to the dark side and woo her over, cat not only has to hide her activities from her father, but learn who her father really is.

a/n: hi i wrote this in two days and it’s unedited but i’m living for this (also v important for plot)

please consider reblogging this if you enjoyed it, a lot of my tags still aren’t working!!!

get caught up on other chapters here! or check out my masterlist!

---

Being drunk was weird. On one hand, it was what Cat thought it would be like: she could see how so many people she knew would get plastered at parties with their friends. The world seemed a lot more beautiful to her, her happiness amplified. On the other, it was scary. She caught herself thinking things she would have never even considered. Maybe I’ll have another drink, she had thought when she was in the water with the Pogues. She liked the feeling of being free, and perhaps a little defiant.

She also liked the feeling of JJ’s hand on hers.

When John B pulled the boat up to the dock, Cat stood to help tie it off, but JJ pushed her back down. “Let us,” he said, and she pouted while JJ and Pope jumped off, tying the boat, while Kiara gathered the empty cans littering the floor of the boat.

“You good, Cat?” John B asked, holding out a hand, which she took graciously.

“M’fine,” she replied.

“JJ, get over here,” she heard John B call, and John B helped Cat to the side of the boat. “Up on this ledge here,” he said, and Cat carefully stepped up onto the side of the boat, John B behind her, holding onto her by her hips.

“It’s like the Titanic!” she exclaimed. JJ was suddenly in front of her, reaching out for her.

“Alright Rose, come here,” he teased, helping her off the boat. Her bare feet hit the soft wood of the dock.

“My shoes-” she started, but was cut off by John B.

“I’ve got your stuff, don’t worry,” he said. He dropped the shoes onto the dock before handing her clothes to JJ, and she drunkenly shoved her feet into the flip flops. John B whispered something into JJ’s ear before following Kiara and Pope up to the house.

“You think you can make it to the house?” he asked. “You can stay and sober up for a bit, until you’re okay to drive home.”

“I’m good,” she said, lurching forward, JJ’s grip tightening on her arm. “M’ dad’s gonna kill me.”

“You’ll be okay, Cat,” JJ was saying as she took careful steps.

They didn’t make it far until Cat was bent over the railing, vomiting. It was sickly sweet yet burned. JJ held her hair, and when it was all out, her body was shaking.

“Over here and sit down,” JJ was saying, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the wood of the dock, her knees up and her head between them.

She was still shaking, her head foggy, everything around her not seeming real. Was she really here, drunk, puke covering her bare stomach, with JJ Maybank?

The thoughts running through her head caused her to break down. A sob wracked her body.

“We’ll have to work on your tolerance,” JJ said beside her, jokingly, trying to ease the tension.

“I’m sorry,” was all Cat managed to choke out.

“Don’t apologize, it happens to the best of us,” he replied quietly from beside her.

“God, I can’t go home like this. My dad will kill me.”

The sinking realization of what she had done was almost enough to make her puke again. It warranted her shaking and her tears. She was smelly and drunk. She couldn’t even drive home. She had a curfew she couldn’t make and didn’t know what she was going to do.

“You’ll sober up soon, did puking make you feel better?” he asked, and Cat nodded slightly. “A cold shower always helps me. Do you want to go up to the house?”

Cat nodded again, and JJ carefully helped her up. She noticed her clothes draped over one of his shoulders. “Where’s my phone?” she asked, spinning towards him, panicked.

“I’ve got it in my pocket, kitty Cat, it’s okay.”

The nickname. Usually, she loathed it, but now, she loved it. She laughed softly before turning back around, slowly making her way up the dock and to John B’s house.

Going up the back stairs was almost too much. JJ practically had to carry her up them, and balanced her on his chest as he pushed open the screen door that led inside.

The house was warm and cozy. Everyone was waiting up, strewn about the living room watching Aladdin. It flipped a switch inside her, easily drawing her brain from the situation she had put herself in.

“I love this movie!” Cat exclaimed, earning laughs from everyone else.

“Don’t mind us,” JJ called, guiding Cat across the room and into a bedroom. “Nothing to see here.”

“Is she okay?” Kiara asked, and Cat threw a thumbs up towards her as JJ pushed her into the bedroom.

She wanted to collapse onto the bed, but JJ rerouted her into the bathroom. “Get in,” he said, holding back the shower curtain for her.

“What a gentleman,” Cat praised as she climbed in, sitting down on the floor of the tub.

“Holler if you need anything,” JJ said, turning the showerhead on, closing the shower curtain, and leaving.

Cat sat in the cold rain. JJ was right - it worked to sober her up quickly. She became more and more aware of her headache, and the feeling in her stomach was toned down to a constant slight nausea. It made her realize how tired she was, and that got her to thinking about how screwed she was.

JJ came back after half an hour, turning off the water and throwing her a towel. “You feeling better?” he asked, and Cat just nodded, her hair disheveled from drying it off.

“What time is it?” she asked from her spot on the toilet, her head in her hands.

“About ten,” JJ answered, and Cat groaned. “You need to be home?”

“I can’t drive,” she sighed, pressing the butt of her palms to her eyes.

“I’ll drive you and walk back. Does that work?”

“I just need a few more minutes here,” Cat said, not looking up.

“I’ll go get you some water,” she heard JJ say. He let out a soft grunt as he stood, closing the bathroom door gently behind him.

When he got back, he found her on her knees on the floor, vomiting into the toilet again. Cat instantly felt better; she sat and took sips of the water JJ gave her. She was vaguely aware of JJ slipping the scrunchie off her wrist, the fabric still wet, and gently tying up her hair so it was out of her face.

“Okay. I’m good,” she decided eventually, and wordlessly, JJ helped her stand. “Do you have my keys?”

A jingling sound was JJ’s only response as he opened the door. Cat was aware of the others watching them, eyebrows raised, eyes begging for information. “You alive?” Kiara asked from her spot on the couch.

“Yeah. Barely,” Cat replied, and she heard JJ chuckle, his hand resting on the small of her back, guiding her towards the stairs. She stopped and turned to the group before they exited the house. “Thanks for letting me come out with you guys tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“Well, you’ll have to come again sometime,” Pope said, grinning. She noticed John B wink, but didn’t know who it was directed towards.

“Homeward bound, let’s go,” JJ said, and they stepped into the warm, muggy air. A mostly full moon lit up the sky as the two walked to Cat’s car. “This is a nice car, kitty Cat.”

“Don’t get any ideas, JJ,” she replied, climbing into the passenger seat and putting on her seat belt. She noticed JJ made no move to secure his. “JJ, you’re driving to a cop’s house, put your goddamn seatbelt on.”

“Oooh, where’d that come from?” he asked, and Cat could see his grin in the dim light. “Someone’s bossy.”

“Just shut up and drive.” Cat slouched against the window, her headache returning in full force as the car started moving.

“Do you have a good excuse thought up?” JJ asked, nodding at the clock on the dash. It was 10:39.

“No,” she grumbled, reaching for a pack of gum, hoping it would mask the smell of the sickly sweet alcohol-laced vomit her mouth tasted like. “I’ll probably just say I bumped into an old friend and we went out for desserts to catch up.”

“Where’d you two go? It’s late, not much is open.”

She realized he was right. “The dairy bar.”

“They close at 8 on weeknights, kitty Cat.”

“McDonald’s then, I don’t know. You have any better ideas?”

“Hmm,” she heard him muse, noticing him look over at her. “Say that you went to their house and went swimming, and you didn’t have your phone on you so you lost track of time?”

“That works too,” Cat responded quietly. Her mind was too muddled to think of any better excuse than that.

“It’s mostly true, anyway. So it’s technically not a lie.”

“But what if my dad asks questions?”

“Then put a spin on them. If he accuses you of something, you know what you should do?” he asked, and Cat shook her head. “If he accuses you of something, then you deny it, okay?” Cat nodded and the conversation died.

Luckily, the driveway was dark and the living room lights were off. They sat in silence before JJ made the first move, getting out of Cat’s car. Cat followed suit, meeting JJ in front of her car, and they stopped as they met each other.

“Thanks for taking care of me when I overdid it,” she said quietly, not able to meet his icy gaze.

JJ chuckled. “You handled it well. A hell of a lot better than JB handles going overboard some nights.”

“Really?” she asked, looking up, and he nodded.

“I’ll see you at work in a few days?” It was Cat’s turn to nod, and JJ smiled slightly. “Cool.”

“Be sure to drink some water before you go to bed and have water for when you wake up, okay?” JJ’s tone was soft in a way she had never heard before. Nodding, and found herself wrapping her arms around his waist, gently leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

“Thanks, JJ.”

There was a slight hesitation from JJ until he returned her hug. They pulled away after a couple seconds, and JJ stepped to the opposite side of Cat, beginning to disappear into the shadows.

“Sleep tight, kitty Cat,” was the last thing he said before he vanished.

---

“How you feel yesterday, kitty Cat?”

JJ’s voice made her jump as she was unlocking the cabin of the boat. He was strutting down the dock towards her, wearing only his cargo shorts and his black boots. His work shirt was thrown over his shoulder.

“Not that bad after about ten in the morning,” she answered, opening the door and throwing the key ring onto the table inside.

“Ah, well you got most of it out of you the night before then.” He easily jumped onto the boat, looking over the clipboard that detailed the day’s deliveries. “Pretty quiet day today, huh?”

“Looks like it. Pope said he’d get here with the first round of groceries in five.”

JJ busied himself with topping off the boat’s gas, while Cat met Pope and started loading up the groceries. “JJ, put your damn shirt on, boy!” Heyward had yelled at one point, packaging fish for their first customer.

“I’m working on my tan,” JJ claimed, posing with the nozzle of the gas pump. “How else am I supposed to get the ladies?”

“You don’t got much going for you,” Cat heard Heyward grumble.

She couldn’t help but feel like JJ’s last comment was directed towards her. Even Pope looked from JJ to Cat then back to JJ, but the blond had quickly brushed the whole encounter off and was carrying the gas cans back towards the boat.

Cat took both of them and placed them on the boat before JJ climbed up and began hooking up the gas line.

“We ready?” JJ called, and Cat yelled back a response and started the boat. Pope untied them and pushed them off as Cat brought the boat out into the water.

They had an uneventful day. JJ kept his shirt off until they hit land, basking on the bow of the boat in the sun for most of the day. Cat couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t done that before; something had definitely changed between them. She remembered the way that he put his hand on hers and held her while he was sick, and how he drove her home and his hands lingered just a little too long while they hugged.

She didn’t know JJ well, but based on what she had heard about him, he was a different person around her.

How did she feel about it? That question had been nagging at her. She liked this new, strange JJ. She liked knowing that he trusted her with at least some secrets, that he went out of his way to invite her to be with him and his friends. Was corruption the right word?

They docked at the Cameron residence for their second to last delivery. There was a note left with their order, that Ward nor Rose would be home, so they left a temporary code to the keypad that led into the house from the back door of none of their children were around to help.

As usual, they unloaded the groceries from the boat, opting to skip the carts since they didn’t have that long of a walk. It would only take two trips back and forth.

“Well this is a sight,” a voice called out, making Cat instantly roll her eyes. She looked over to see Rafe Cameron sitting on the patio, alongside Topper. Barry was there, too; the guy was treated almost like an urban legend in the Shoupe household, her father talking about him in a similar way he did about JJ. Rafe continued, leaning back in his chair. “Catherine Shoupe and JJ Maybank?”

“Some people don’t hold grudges. You should try it sometime,” JJ said, continuing towards the hose. Cat could hear the animosity in his voice and see the tenseness in his body. “Hey Rafe, how about you help us put these groceries away? Daddy’s orders.”

Rafe started laughing, and Cat was close enough to see two lines on the table, a plastic baggie nearby, held down with a cigarette lighter. Barry was grinning at the obvious tension within the group.

“Catherine, your daddy know you’re workin’ with Maybank?” Barry asked, his words slightly slurred but midly enthused.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Barry,” JJ scoffed, setting the bags of groceries down by the back door. He gave Cat a look, and she did the same.

“It’s called ‘mutualism’. You ever learn that in biology?”

“Yes, Barry, I know what ‘mutualism’ means. Don’t act so surprised at us working together, Barry.”

“Ah, so you’re using her?” Topper was standing now. His voice sent chills down her spine; she had loved him, once. Two years ago. Topper was her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first love, until he got caught up with Rafe and his illicit activities.

It had ended badly, and it was Cat who left him. She had threatened to tell her dad about what he was doing. He panicked, lashed out, and Cat ended it then and there.

At Topper’s comment, JJ had moved in front of Cat. “That’s not what it is!” he yelled, and Cat took a step back. Topper shook his head; he and Barry were standing now, Rafe still sitting back and enjoying the show.

“Cat, don’t let him-”

JJ punched Topper before he could finish his sentence. Cat was motionless, not knowing what to do, only springing into motion when Barry and Rafe jumped forward to pull Topper off of JJ. A flailing limb knocked Cat to the ground as she went in to grab JJ, and she winced as she felt her knee bust open on the hard rocks of the patio.

“That’s enough!” Barry yelled, shoving Topper into Rafe.

JJ had started back to the boat, leaving Cat alone with the three of them. Barry was staring at her, almost like he was urging her to ask questions.

“Cat…” Topper started, taking a step towards her, but Barry shoved him back into Rafe.

At that, she turned following JJ back to the boat, where he was dropping bags of groceries onto the dock. “They can get their own goddamn groceries,” he muttered. “We’re leaving.”

Cat untied the boat before climbing on. JJ was manning the controls, and she noticed he wasn’t heading back towards Heyward’s. Sitting down on the bow, Cat sat and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the words that came out of Topper’s mouth.

JJ soon pulled the boat into a quiet cove and dropped the anchor before climbing up onto the bow, his vape between his lips.

“Are you using me?” she asked him suddenly, looking up at him.

He slowly exhaled a thin cloud before answering. “I don’t think I am, no.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

JJ sighed. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know, kitty Cat.”

“Then tell me.”

Now it was JJ who looked up. Cat was aware of her shaky breaths, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes ever since she first saw Topper sitting at the table. “You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“I thought you wanted to get me out of my bubble?” she countered, and JJ smiled softly.

“Well… it’s about what Barry said. About mutualism.”

“Okay…” Cat said, thinking it over. Two species benefiting each other. It started to make sense in her head. “Explain.”

JJ took another hit before responding. He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, even though they were alone in the cove. “Your dad, he’s… not really a good cop.”

Of course you would say that, she thought.

“But hear me out. I know he doesn’t have the best opinion of me. That’s okay. But Barry, he sells coke to my dad. Other people too.”

“Like Topper?” she grumbled, and JJ nodded before continuing.

“Your dad knows about his whole operation. Nobody on the island moves more product than Barry does. Shoupe agreed to let it slide for a 25% cut of everything Barry makes.”

Cat’s heart stopped. “He would never do that,” she said quietly. The tears were threatening to spill over. “He hates Barry.”

“Has he ever surprised you with anything? A vacation, gifts?” JJ pressed. Cat nodded, remembering the trip to Hawaii. Her car. Her brother’s purebred dog. “That’s drug money, Cat. Or stolen money.”

“Stolen?” she echoed.

“I’ve seen him pocket money from a hotel safe, a crime scene. About a year ago, it was fifty grand.”

If it wasn’t for the fact that her father had bought Cat her car, costing somewhere around fifty thousand dollars about a year before, she wouldn’t have believed a word JJ said.

“He spends the cash as quickly as possible,” he continued, trailing off as he saw Cat’s expression. “Hey, you good?”

Cat could only shake her head as tears dripped down her cheeks. She was too shocked to break down into sobs. These were angry tears, angry that this was being kept from her, angry that it even happened.

She was suddenly in JJ’s arms. He smelled faintly of weed, his juul laying abandoned opposite of her on the bow. Shaking, she buried her face into his shirt, forcing herself to take deep breaths.

“Are you using me too?” she couldn’t help but ask again. JJ shook with a chuckle.

“No, kitty Cat, I’m not. Hey, is your knee okay?”

She pulled away from him to look at her knee, which was bloodied and still slightly oozing from when she intervened in the fight. “It’s fine,” Cat quietly answered, but JJ already got up to fill a towel with ice from the cooler. He hopped back onto the bow and sat down next to her, gently putting the ice on her knee.

Cat shivered. The bubble she had lived in for so long had been popped, thanks to JJ. Her easy, simple life disrupted. She would have to go home after work and see her dad, knowing what she learned that day. She would have to drive her car and feed her brother’s dog, knowing why they were there.

She hated it.

After half an hour, when JJ got up to drive them back to Heywards, she tried to thinking about the good things that came out of all this. Remembering the feeling of the other night, how she got one final f-you to Topper, and the new friends she made the other night.

The low-lying sun outlined JJ dramatically as he brought the boat into the marina. He caught her staring and tossed a wink her way before easing off on the throttle, drifting to the dock and the awaiting Heywards.

Cat had JJ to thank for all this new knowledge and experiences.

Whether he was a blessing or a curse, she didn’t know.

taglist @letsgofullkook @stargazingstarkey @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks @shawnssongs @queenk00k @broken-jj @danielle-yeah @wicked-laugh @obxhoe @talksoprettyjjx @kt219567 @abrunettefangirlnerd @apoguecalledjj @rollinsstuff

#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction

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jay-and-dean · 5 years

Text

I don’t need you Chapter 7 : Borderline Villains

Dean x reader

Summary : She’s a warrior, she’s a loner. Nothing can stop her, nothing ever had. She doesn’t need Dean, does she ?

This is a request by @magssteenkamp that I decided to turn to a serie, see the original request on the serie Masterlist.

Serie Warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. Smut, probably all kind from rough to fluffy, I’ll precise in the chapters if there are specific warnings. Fluff. Angst of course.

Chapter warnings : Swearing. Angst. Implied smut. Fluff

Words : almost 3k

Note : I’ll try to stick to the 3k rule, like for Rescue You

I thank @roonyxx because I would never have made it without her. She kept me motivated when I was exhausted and discouraged. And for the calculations...

If everything goes as planned, you’ll get one chapter every wednesday (Thanks to @magssteenkamp, I call it WednesJay, lol. Sorry okay, I shut up).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

*** I don’t need you MASTERLIST***

_________________________________

7. BORDERLINE VILLAINS

Reader's Pov

My fingers hurts from gripping Dean's belt so hard, and my throat is sore from holding back screams.

I'm panting, focused on him still inside of me, on his shaking sweaty palms under my spread thighs.

I want him there forever...

I fight against this thought with all my brain but the truth is I really want him right there for the rest of my life. And it's not my brain asking for this... Just being one with him, his lips on my neck, his arms holding me tight. Like nothing could happen to me, like everything was right for once.

And his smell.

The crush kid-me had on him evolved, despite my will to curb it. And I have to admit now that it's not just about the hero... But about the man. This is terrifying.

"Y/n" he whispers in my ear, like he was asking me to be with him and I close my eyes at his voice resonating in my core.

He's softening inside of me and, deep down, I want to cling to him. But I have to let him go... I can't take that risk.

I look down, his scruff tickling me, and see the gun on the ground, sighing. When he puts a shy kiss on my collarbone, I finally find the strength to push him.

I can't get attached to Dean.

Because close is dangerous. Because he would be so disappointed if he could see me, stabbing humans in the chest, cutting throats like a serial killer. Bad men I'm killing... but still people.

And Dean is not a man of one woman, I know that, I have read the books about his life a hundred times, studied him, I have seen him flirt without even realizing it during the hunts. Who could be enough for a man like that ? No one deserves Dean Winchester for them alone.

I know myself. That's what a lot of lonely times does to a person, that's what being confronted to your limits does. I do know Y/n... And I know that give in to Dean would mean love.

I can't do that. Not love. It would break me.

"Move" I say low.

He takes a deep breath and withdraws, his cum dripping from me like the world was telling me it was too late to not get my heart too close to fire.

He puts me on my legs cautiously and searches my face, but I avoid his eyes, trying not to look too cold, but inaccessible in a way, to make him understand.

"That was really hot" I state, bending to reach my pants. "You're... really good at this" I try to compliment him.

"Good at this" he repeats, stern.

"Yeah" I whisper, feeling like I could suddenly cry at the hint of hurt crossing his manly face.

"Good at this" he says again, like he was trying to digest my words, putting his cock back in his pants, and closing his belt harshly. "Can we talk ?"

"About what, Dean ?" I shrug, my armor getting thicker.

"About us" his green eyes hitching on me, he sighs.

"There is no 'us'. Don't..."

He nods, biting his lower lip, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Yes..." he sighs.

Adjusting his flannel, he poses a second, still looking at me, and finally turns to leave.

Dean's Pov

I could kill her right now. I could...

I rub my face on the parking, not wanting to go back to Sam and I's room right away. I don't want to face my brother and I don't want to see that stupid bedroom again.

I just want to scream, and fucking kill her ! My anger is making my blood boil and I have to stop myself from running back to her room three times.

Why do I even care ? She doesn't want me, she doesn't care. She's a good friend and an awesome hunter, it should be enough. The only one I can blame is me.

Talk about us.

Stupid !

How desperate do I sound now, huh ? What would I have said anyway ? It's not like we were going to, I don't know, date ? I can't have a relationship, and it was always fine like that. And Y/n... She's not like the others, she's not someone you can bring home to cuddle, she's not someone you can own or tame.

Y/n is wild. And even if she was not...

She doesn't like you. Not because you have those... damn feelings !

"Stupid !" I groan, hitting the wheel of Baby with my foot.

What do I do now ? What am I supposed to do ? I can't forget us, she lives with us... I can't seduce her, I can't have her, I can't let her break me. And when she decides to go, I won't hold her back.

She will leave. She will.

Maybe I just need to be a good friend. Stop whining and be a friend... I admire her, and I really like her being around, so I will just take that, and suffocate those unrequited feelings that are making me crazy.

I have no right to be angry.

I enter the room and avoid Sam's eyes when I go to the shower. I can feel his glare on me but I don't want questions, I don't want him to ask me if we "talked"... He called her a time bomb...

Well guess what Sammy, my heart just exploded.

***

The victim is talking to Y/n, she saw her friend being hunted by a weird man with claws and sharp teeth... She is in shock and shaking. But somehow, Y/n makes her calmer, like magic ; and she does with a softness I wish I could seen in her eyes when she looks at me.

But it is not going to happen, because she barely looks at me anyway since that evening three days ago.

I can't help but wondering : Did I hurt her ? We were rough and wild. Or did I scare her ? How could I... She was the one holding a loaded gun to my head. No... She just regrets it.

Simple and hurtful regret.

Sam is staring at her like he was trying to understand how she can be so fierce, and so sweet. She just can, she just is. Both leather corset and Hocus Pocus t-shirt. She's a kid that grew up too fast, she built defenses no one can really understand, but her heart is still all new and shiny under it, too sensible behind the walls.

Walking to us, she bites her lips anxiously and I can tell she's sincerely pained by the young girl grief.

"She said it was before midnight" she states. "She's absolutely sure. Sorry Sam, it doesn't match. Maybe we should just... take a little break ? You guys look exhausted. I say we go eat something, and we take turns to sleep. Sam you need a nap, I'll keep searching okay ?"

When I'm about to decline her offer, my brother sighs, and accepts, admitting he's so tired his head hurts.

"We've been hunting for months, I really think we need a serious break after this one. Dean you look like crap" he says and I chuckle.

"Thank you Sammy, always a pleasure."

The room is silent, and I would appreciate the calm if my heart wasn't resonating so hard in my skull.

Sam went to sleep a little, giving us a thousand orders, and Y/n wrote everything down, winking at me. I understood later that she just wanted him to be relaxed enough to sleep, so she made him think everything was going to be exactly like he wanted to while he was resting...

She's focused on her screen, reading something with a light frown, now and then writing down something on a notebook she bought a few days ago. And it makes me think of all those notebooks she had.

"When did you start writing on notebooks ?" I break the silence, clearly surprising her.

"I... uhm" she hesitates a second, then dive her eyes deep inside mine. "I had no laptop when I was... when I had no home. So in my bag I could only fit a notebook... Later it kinda became I don't know, a habit ?" she chuckles lightly, almost OCD if you want my opinion."

"It is an awesome idea, my dad's journal saved my life more times that I can count" I smile shyly.

"Yeah... well" a sad look appears on her face. "Your dad's journal didn't burn. When I think I could have saved everything if it was a numeric file..."

"I'm sorry" I sigh, not knowing what else to say.

"It's life" she shrugs. "And I'm used to lose everything at once."

I swallow hard, her words hurting me right in the chest, getting up to get two beers and a few snacks. Handing one to her, I dare :

"How long ?"

She looks up at me before I sit again, closing the book in front of me to make her understand I really intend to talk now. She always thinks she has to be by herself, she doesn't, she has friends now, she has me, and if I can't be anything else than that, at least I'm going to be a good friend.

"What ?" she takes a sip of her fresh beer.

"How long did you stay alone in the street ?"

She freezes, looking down for a minute, playing with the label of her beer, like there was anything to be ashamed of. There isn't.

"After my parents died... When I was 12. I... I tried to get out of the city to join that aunt I heard of in Main, my father used to say she was a nice person. I had never seen her but I knew her name" As I listen, I sit back in my chair, giving her all my attention. "I didn't want to go to a children home, because I knew cops would interrogate me... and, well I also knew vampires controlled some cops."

The more she speaks, the more she looks like that beautiful woman that got up in the middle of the night in her apartment with her messy hair. She pushes some strands out of her face and takes a shaky breath, still not looking at me.

"But, yeah, the vampires were looking for me, and of course, everyone was. The daughter of the murdered couple had disappeared, my face was everywhere. That stupid picture of me sitting on the couch with my Nintendo..." she shakes her head like remembering that picture was making her uncomfortable. So I hid. It was... really pathetic, Dean, nothing was heroic about it."

She takes another sip of her beer, closing the zipper of her hoodie, like she subconsciously needed to hide.

"Time passed. People concluded I was dead, and my face disappeared from the streets. The first year I didn't have enough money to go to Main anyway... Why am I telling you all that ?" she sighs.

"Please, you know everything about me because of those books, just... tell me a little more" I almost plea, and she bites her lip.

"The next years, I just thought it was better for my aunt too, if I stayed dead. Thanks to the Supernatural books, I knew about hunters... It was a book, but has vampires existed for real, why not hunters ? It took me years to find signs of their existence. When Joe..." she swallows hard, holding back tears. "When Joe found me turning around the bar like a stray cat and offered me food, then that first job, I was eighteen. It saved me from the cold and the hunger. I couldn't work with alcohol but he trusted me to clean after he closed the bar. Hunters didn't ever acknowledge me. But at some point, I asked about you, you know..."

"Really ?" I raise my eyebrows, my own voice annoyingly interrupting her story.

"Yes... Th-they told me to forget about you, they said you were dead 'again' after fighting leviathans."

When I really thought talking about her parents death, or Joe's would be what crushes her, she wipes a tears saying that.

"Y/n" I say getting closer cautiously, my chair aware that this could make her close totally for good. "I... I came back."

But she doesn't close, her wet eyes finally come up to mine and search my face.

"You don't understand Dean. You were the... the hope. I used to hold on to those books and sleep with them against me like a bible" her voice breaks. "And the very second I learn my hero actually exist for real... they tell me you are dead."

I put my hand on hers, holding back tears ; my brain suddenly randomly realizing she's way younger than me, I never actually thought of it.

"It's..." I try but what to say after that ?

"That's when I understood if I needed a hero, I had to become one, and only count on myself."

I lower my head, my heart pounding in my chest, still convinced that any faux pas could make her shut me out completely.

"That's why you can't... grow attached to anyone..." I dare.

Reader's Pov

His hand is sending shivers in my spine, and his words hit me like a fucking train.

"Among other reasons, yes" I whisper, my emotions strangling me. "But yeah... Look what happened to Joe..."

I wish I could push him away, tell him to leave me... But the strength irradiating of him is wrapping me like reading books used to. I feel both safer and exposed...

"What reasons ?" he asks after a while, like he was weighting his words.

Dean is not someone that usually insists on talking, so I guess he really wants to understand something.

"Dean... Your brother is right... I'm a time bomb" I free my hand from his. "Not the fun kind. I... I get angry."

"I get angry too" he states, serious.

"Dean... listen. You said killing humans was the definition of monsters..." I swallow and take a deep breath. "Then I am just that."

"Me too... you and me... we're borderline villains" his index finds my chin and lifts it to make me look at his face.

I just can't get used to how beautiful he is.

"Sam did researches on you, Y/n... With help and a witch friend... he found some things, and a trail of human monster corpses in your wake... We watched who you killed and... I'm so sorry you had to face all of this so young... Who would I be if I told you that you should have bought them to justice ? Violence brings violence..."

My heart falls from my throat and I nod.

He knew. I knew and he's telling me that he would have done the same... Suddenly, the high walls around my soul fall apart and I burst in tears.

He quickly bends and wraps his arms around me tightly.

"I'm not in Purgatory... I'm not in books, I exist... I'm right here, Y/n. I'll stay here. I'm so sorry you were confronted with all that sick crap so young..."

I cling to him, hiding in his neck to cry, my hands fisting his flannel like my life depends on it. His palms are flat on my back, and it feels like he was holding me together.

The door suddenly opens, and I slightly jump, but Dean puts a protective hand on my head and I know I have nothing to fear.

"We will be here in a few, Sammy" Dean says softly.

"N-no problem..." Sam stammers and clears his throat. "Rowena found something on the vampires but you take your time."

"Okay, thank you" my hero says, still holding me.

The door closes and I let go for a second to wipe my face, afraid to soak his skin with tears.

"Y/n..." he catches my eyes.

And before I can see it coming, his soft plum lips slowly crushes on mine, my salty tears wetting both our lips.

I close my eyes and forget with kisses are too important. Nothing is really important anymore. So I let him kiss me, his lips tasting mine shyly...

Too late for not falling in love.

________________________

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