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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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By Your Doorstep (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader is looking for her teenage sister’s service dog one day, she runs into Dean Winchester who thankfully saw him run past. When she arrives, her sister is fine aside from a sprained ankle but Dean’s decided to follow along and help get her sister home...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, mention of car accident/death

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Please enjoy this first part! …

_________

“Toast! Toast!” you shouted as you ran down a street. “Toast boy!”

“Uh, you okay?” said a guy walking on the other side of the street. He was raising an eyebrow and you shook your head.

“Toast is a dog,” you said.

“Oh, gotcha. I thought you were nuts for a minute,” he chuckled.

“You haven’t seen a german shepard around have you?” you asked.

“I saw one run down the block a few minutes ago,” he said. You looked the direction he pointed and you started sprinting. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Can’t talk!” you shouted back. You ran down the block and across the street over to the park. You ran over to the basketball court and saw Toast there next to Tessa. She was sat up and holding onto his vest when you jogged over to her. “Tess. Are you okay? Did you have a seizure?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. She was holding her ankle and you saw the swelling. “I think I broke it playing. My phone’s over in my bag. I told Toast to get it but I guess he ran home and got you instead.”

“He barged in through the doggy door, I thought he was just nuts at first,” you said. You heard footsteps behind you and the man from the street was there panting.

“You found your dog,” he said as he caught his breath.

“Yeah,” you said, the man wincing when he saw Tessa’s ankle. “We’re all set.”

“She needs a doctor,” he said.

“Tessa, you okay here while I run home to get my car?” you asked.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she said. “Toast’ll stay.”

“I can carry her,” said the man. You both stared at him and he shrugged. “Save you a trip.”

“Are you some kind of weirdo?” you asked.

“Says the woman running through the neighborhood shouting Toast,” he smiled back.

“Alright. Tess if you’re cool with it…” you said, the man nodding.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean will carry you back to the house and I’ll drive you to urgent care,” you said. “If you do try anything though Dean, Toast will rip your face and junk off, just to be clear.”

“Got the message,” he said. Tessa climbed on his back and he was careful of her ankle while you grabbed her bag. You walked with Toast by Dean’s side back the few blocks towards home. “I think it’s just a sprain actually. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You play basketball?” you asked.

“No. I’m a doctor is all. First glance it doesn’t look too bad.”

“Are you single? Y/N’s single,” she said.

“You’re a little shit, Tessa,” you said. Dean chuckled and Toast bumped his leg. “He wants you to get on the sidewalk.”

“Will do,” he said, Toast giving some space once he’d stepped up off the road. “He’s very intelligent.”

“We’ve only had Toast two years but he’s been very good with us,” you said. “He’s Tessa’s. I just feed him and pick up his poop.”

“I have school, loser.”

“I have work, loser,” you said.

“You guys must be sisters,” he said. “I’m a big brother. I would know.”

“If your younger brother is single and half as good looking-”

“Keep it in your pants, Tess,” you said.

“I like you two,” he chuckled. “Sorry Tessa but he’s probably a little too old for you.”

“They always are,” she sighed.

“You’re seventeen. You’re fine,” you said. “Besides college has way more attractive guys and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, Elmdale community college. Known for it’s hotties,” she mumbled.

“Elmdale University has some good choices,” you said.

“I thought it was too expensive,” she said.

“Well I was gonna tell you this at dinner but I applied for a different job awhile ago. I heard back this morning. I accepted. It’s double what I was making before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. With your grades you can get a half-ride and I figure between inheritance and my new salary, you can do your four year out of the gate without loans,” you said.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said quietly. “Really.”

“You still need your part-time job if you want to get stuff for yourself though. I’m sorry. I can’t make it work if-”

“S’okay,” she said. “I can’t believe I can go to the university.”

“I called up the school earlier and talked to your guidance counselor. We gotta work on your application but we can make it work,” you said.

“Can I get a car? I know I can’t afford room and board but maybe I can get something used so you don’t have to drive me all the time?” she asked.

“Tessa…” you sighed. You knew you couldn’t afford insurance on two cars at the moment and everything else and she wouldn’t make enough part time to cover all the car expenses herself. “I-”

“I can pick up more shifts,” she said.

“Tessa, I want you to enjoy college. I sure did. I’ll give you rides whenever you want. I’ll drop you off in the morning and pick you up at night. That would work, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t even care about my ankle. I can get my art degree!” she said.

“Tessa.”

“I’m joking,” she laughed. “Art minor?”

“You can minor in whatever you like but please for my sanity major in something you can get a job in?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. You rounded a corner and started to walk up a driveway, Dean setting Tessa down in the passenger seat of your car. You opened the back and Toast jumped in, Dean smiling when you shut both the doors.

“Thanks,” you said. “For helping us out.”

“Sounds like you two know how to solve problems on your own,” he said. “Happy to help. Here.”

He dug in his back pocket and pulled out a card.

“If you ever need a doctor, I’m two blocks over,” he said. “Or just to talk.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, Dean.”

It was around nine when you were sitting on the front porch with a glass of whiskey in your hand. You drank slowly, eyes catching a man in a baseball cap and reflective shirt jogging by.

“Do you always run at night?” you called, Dean stopping at your front walkway. “Cause I never see you run at night and I sit out here a lot.”

“Whew well let’s stop that charade cause running is so not my thing,” he said. He breathed hard for a moment as he walked up the steps. You nodded to the other chair and poured him a glass, Dean drinking it down. “Your sister okay?”

“Yeah. Just a sprain,” you said. “Still gotta pay the deductible for the x-ray though.”

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” you asked.

“Thirty one,” he said.

“Twenty eight.”

“Where are your folks?” he asked.

“They and Tessa were in an accident two years ago. It’s just us two now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m slowly getting used to be a guardian,” you said.

“I raised my little brother. My parents are still around but they fought a lot. I get becoming the parent when you’re not ready.”

“Do you ever get to just be a sibling again?” you asked.

“Yes. But they have to grow up first and you got a few more years ahead of you before it happens,” he said.

“I figured.”

“What does she have? Toast is a service dog I saw.”

“She gets seizures sometimes. It’s from the accident. She hasn’t had one in seven months. Fingers crossed we got her on the right mix of meds finally,” you said.

“So who takes care of you?”

“My buddy Jack Daniels. Sometimes I hang out Jim Bean too.”

“I’m partial to Johnny Walker,” smiled Dean.

“Very nice. I don’t drink much. Too tired most of the time,” you said.

“So nobody takes care of you then.”

“Who takes care of you?”

“Good point,” he said. “But I didn’t have it this rough.”

“We’re getting by. We always do.”

“I have no doubt that you can,” he said. “Take care of yourself every once in a while is all.”

“When she’s done with school I will.”

“She’s got five years left. You won’t last that long,” he said.

“Watch me.”

“Who worked on your sister at the urgent care tonight?”

“Dr. Novak. Why?”

“Cas is a good friend. I’ll see about getting that x-ray test off the bill,” he said as he stood up.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, heading down the steps. “You want me to leave you alone from now on?”

“...No.”

“You want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at noon? I’m buying. Nothing too fancy,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He smiled and nodded, spinning around and sliding right off the last two steps to his bottom. You rushed down them and he groaned, shaking his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he said, grunting as he stood. “Oh my ass hurts.”

“That’s what she said,” you said, Dean laughing.

“I definitely like you,” he said as you helped him take a few steps. “I’m alright. I’ll swing by tomorrow then.”

“Bye Dean,” you said.

“Bye Dean!” called Tessa from her bedroom window upstairs.

“Oh my God, go to bed!” you shouted back.

“It’s nine and I’m not twelve,” she said.

“Goodnight ladies,” chuckled Dean, waving as he headed back down the path. You gathered up the bottle and glasses, bringing them inside and locking up for the night. A few minutes later you were upstairs in Tessa’s room, frowning as she giggled while looking through her phone.

“Oh come on,” she said as she rolled her eyes at you. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor, he’s single and he’s a dork that just fell on his butt in front of you cause he’s so nervous and trying to play it cool. Like what is wrong with him?”

“Nothing. We have a date tomorrow,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“We used to talk about guys,” she said.

“I know,” you said. You picked at the wood, Tessa putting her phone down.

“Y/N. You’re not my mom. I know you gotta act like her sometimes but you’re not. Mom and dad would want you to go on dates and stuff. I haven’t seen you do anything fun in years.”

“I barely knew how to be an adult for just me,” you said. “You’re my priority now.”

“I’m not in a hospital bed anymore. My seizures are under control and I got Toast to watch out for me just in case. Dean had a point. You gotta take care of yourself,” she said. “Including me going to community college.”

“Tessa-”

“It’s both our inheritance and you can’t spend all of it on me. I can do two years at community and transfer to the university after.”

“Tess. You don’t have to do that. I did the math and it’ll work out.”

“When’s the last time you bought something for yourself? Seriously when?”

“I bought a new bedspread two weeks ago.”

“You needed one. That doesn’t count. When-”

“Before mom and dad died, Tess. Is that what you want me to say? They made good money but you had medical bills. Do I want a new winter coat? Sure. Do I want to splurge and by myself a nice pair of leggings? Of course. I want things. But I want us to stay in this house. I don’t want us to get shoved in a tiny apartment. I want you to be able to go to college like I did and not worry about this crap. I’m the grown up, not you. I choose how to spend the money.”

“Fine,” she said. She grabbed the crutch by her bed and got up, going to her dresser. She opened her jewelry box and grabbed a wad of cash, holding it out to you. “It’s three hundred. I want you to have it.”

“Tessa, no.”

“I earned it. I get to choose how to spend it,” she said. “You’ve always told me that. Buy a coat and leggings and whatever else you want.”

“Tessa. It’s yours. You were saving up to buy an iphone.”

“I don’t need a fucking phone. I need my sister to stop looking like she cries herself to sleep every night. Just take it,” she said. You shook your head and she shoved the money in your hand. “Y/N, take it.”

“Alright,” you said.

“Good.” She waited a beat before pulling you into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said. “You got plans tomorrow night?”

“I was gonna sleepover Hailey’s house if that’s okay?” she said.

“Yeah. You guys have fun,” you said. “Just be careful on your ankle.”

“Duh,” she said. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I’m kinda beat. Sunday for sure?” you said.

“Okay. Night,” she said.

“Night, Tess,” you said. You went next door to your room, opening your desk drawer and opening the envelope inside. You counted the money she’d given you and added it to the front. You definitely had enough for her phone now and her birthday was only a few weeks away. You smiled and put it away, writing out a few bills before you gathered up your pajamas and walked down the hall to the bathroom. You kept going though, down to the shut door. You pushed it open, the room cold and dark. You flipped on a light, a coating of dust on everything again.

“Y/N?” said Tessa from the other end of the hall. You turned off the light and shut the door, Tessa by the bathroom when you walked back. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna shower quick before bed. Shout if you need something.”

“Yeah. Night.”

Dean POV

“Hey, Sammy,” said Dean after he’d gotten out of the shower and was laying in bed.

“Hey, Dean. What’s up?” asked Sam on the other end of the phone.

“I think I just went full on weirdo on this girl I met today.”

“Well that’s obvious but what’d you do? You didn’t like stalk her or anything.”

“She lives in the neighborhood. I kinda went jogging past her house tonight and she was sat on the front porch.”

“Okay that’s kinda creepy,” said Sam. Dean ran his hand over his face and sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I gave off creeper vibes but she might have just been polite. I don’t know. We’re going out tomorrow,” said Dean. He was quiet as he shut his eyes. “Which sucks cause I really like her too. I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird.”

“Maybe she’ll have pity on you and let it slide. Where’d you meet her? I thought you swore off women after your last hookup went bad,” he said. Dean didn’t speak and ran his hand over his face again. “De I know something happened that night.”

“Sammy I got tired of hooking up. I’m too old for it. I just want a girl to go home to at the end of the day and laugh with. That’s all there is to it,” said Dean.

“Dean I was still living with you at the time. You were off for days. I know-”

“If you’re gonna bring this shit up again-”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to hear you excited about a girl again...and you can tell me anything. Anything, Dean. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re twenty seven. You’re a kid,” said Dean. He rolled over on the bed and lay on his stomach, putting his hands under his chin. “Some things I just don’t tell you about, Sam.”

“Dean, I asked you to stop raising me awhile ago. You’re not my father anymore.”

“I still gotta protect you from stuff,” said Dean with a shrug.

“I get that. But my mind has gone to the worst case scenario on this more than once. Just promise it wasn’t that,” said Sam.

“Sammy, I called to talk about a girl.”

“You want things to work out with her? Then figure out whatever the hell happened in the past so it doesn’t happen again.”

“You don’t understand,” said Dean.

“Whatever. Just crack a joke next time you see her,” said Sam. He hung up and Dean looked at his phone, sighing before he jammed his face in the bed. He gripped the sheets tight and felt his heart rate pick up, bile rising up in the back of his throat.

“Stop. It,” he said to himself, forcing himself to sit up. He wiped off his eye and dropped his head to his chest. “It’s just a fucking girl. It’s just a girl, it’s just a date. It’s all it is.”

He saw his phone light up and Sam’s name appear. He swiped and put it on speaker before he faced away from it.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam.

“It’s okay,” said Dean, freezing when he sniffled. He stared at the phone and Sam cleared his throat.

“You alright?” Dean stared at the phone and shook his head. “De, you there?”

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Yes…” said Sam. “It’s just me.”

“You repeat a word of this to anybody or you laugh or you tease me or-”

“Hey. I’d rather we not have this conversation over the phone. I can be there in an hour.”

“...Fine but you better bring some pie with you.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, Dean.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean x #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #doctor!dean x reader

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berkmansimagines · 3 years

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Taken (Part 4/7)

A/N: I have an endgame now. This will be seven parts. Parts 5 & 6 go together and I’m going to try to post them next week within a few days of each other. Thanks for reading!

Summary: Fuches kidnaps Barry’s daughter.

← Part 3 | Part 5 →

You’ve been on the road all day, tied up in the backseat of Fuches’ car since he pulled you out of the trunk. You’re still anxious but a lot calmer now. Even though Barry’s been forced to sit in the front seat next to Fuches, having him in the car with you has helped. Your father kept an eye on you and made sure Fuches didn’t try anything. You felt safer with him there.

You had overheard some conversations between Fuches and Barry throughout the drive. Fuches kidnapped you so he could pressure your father to go on some hits. You hate the role you’ve been forced to play, a pawn in Fuches’ sick game.

The three of you finally arrive in Cleveland late at night.

“Welcome home,” Fuches nods to Barry.

Barry looks at the city lights out the window with complete dread. He hates being back. This place isn’t his home anymore.

As Fuches continues driving, the streets become more recognizable to Barry. It’s his old neighborhood. Then Fuches turns onto a side street and Barry immediately sees his old apartment building.

Barry hasn’t been here since he first went to Los Angeles. Fuches told Barry that the Chechens bombed it as a warning shot for dragging his feet on the Ryan Madison hit. Barry never bothered going back after he decided to stay in LA. He assumed there was nothing left for him in Cleveland. The move reset Barry’s entire life.

Fuches parks right next to Barry’s old car. Barry thought that piece of junk was impounded long ago.

“What are we doing here?” Barry asks.

“I continued paying rent for your place after you left. I knew you’d be back eventually. Figured you’d need a home to go back to,” Fuches explains.

“You told me it got destroyed,” Barry tensely replies.

“I lied to try to motivate you to get moving on the Ryan Madison hit,” Fuches admits, “I was going to tell you the truth but then we got caught up in all that Chechen shit.”

“WHAT?” Barry raises his voice so loudly that it startles you.

“Well maybe I would’ve remembered to tell you if you didn’t abandon me with the Chechens for so long. I waited days for you to go on a hit and you were with your little acting class,” Fuches complains.

Barry clenches his jaw, as if he’s holding back what he really wants to say. He’s exhausted, his hands are numb and his kid is tied up in the back seat. He doesn’t have time to argue with Fuches.

“Fine, whatever. Why did you take us here?” Barry shrugs.

“I’m dropping you off. You can go in,” Fuches tells Barry.

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a Swiss Army Knife. Barry gives him a confused look. There’s no way Fuches was letting him go that easy. There has to be a catch.

“I’ll call you tomorrow with the client’s address. And don’t bother looking for any of your old guns, I swept the place already. You’ll be unarmed until you go on the hit…. Oh and the girl’s staying with me until the job is done.”

You gasp. No! Barry can’t leave you, not now.

“No fucking way,” Barry adamantly shakes his head, “Wherever I go, she goes. So either she leaves with me or I stay with her. She won’t be alone with you again.”

Fuches takes a deep breath and a moment to think.

“Fine. I moved all your guns to my place and I don’t trust you around them. We’ll all stay here. Tomorrow we’ll go on the hits,” he reluctantly agrees, turning off the car.

Barry eyes you in the rearview mirror and you meet his gaze. He gives you a reassuring nod. He’s not going anywhere.

“Thank you,” you quietly mouth to him.

Fuches gets out of the car and opens the door to the backseat. You nervously jump back trying to get away, but he takes hold of your ankles and drags you toward him.

“No stop!” you beg.

“Fuches, what the fuck are you doing?” Barry yells, pulling at the ziptie binding him to the front seat.

“Calm down, will ya?”

Fuches cuts the duct tape binding your ankles and pulls you out of the car. You land on your feet and Fuches roughly grabs your arm before you can even think about running. He leads you around the car and opens the passenger’s side door.

Using his free hand, Fuches cuts the ziptie. Barry’s hands are still tied with duct tape in front of him but he’s able to move his arms more freely. Barry unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car.

“Walk ahead of us,” Fuches instructs Barry.

Barry quietly nods. He looks at you once more before heading towards the building’s entrance. Fuches keeps a tight hold of you, following Barry a few feet back.

Barry mindlessly punches in the code to get into the building. No matter how long he’s been away, it’s something that will forever be ingrained in his memory.

Your father leads you and Fuches through the rundown apartment building, eventually stopping in front of a door at the end of the hallway. This must be his old place.

“I don’t have my key anymore,” Barry sighs.

“Don’t worry, I do,” Fuches holds up a pair of keys.

Fuches drags you towards the door and unlocks it. He turns on a light and shoves you inside. Your father gives Fuches a cold look before following you into the apartment.

Barry’s jaw almost drops when he sees the place. It looks exactly the same, like he never left.

“W-Whoa! Dad, did you really used to live here?”

You look around the cold and dreary space. It’s nothing like the home you and your dad built back in LA. He told you once that he used to be depressed when he was living in Cleveland, now you can see why.

“Yeah,” Barry looks down to his feet.

On the bookshelf you spot a large frame with a picture of Barry in his Marines uniform, a paddle and few medals. You take a few steps towards it to get a closer look.

“Oh wow, dad, is that you?” you use your bound hands to point at the photo.

Barry nods.

“You look so young! And kind of dorky too,” you tease, letting out a little laugh.

Your father grins to himself. It’s the first time he’s seen you smile since this whole ordeal started.

CLICK

You and Barry turn your attention towards the door. Fuches just locked and deadbolted it. Nobody was leaving this apartment tonight, he’d make sure of it.

“Look, man, you got us here and we aren’t going anywhere. You need to untie us,” Barry tries.

“You must be joking,” Fuches scoffs.

“Seriously. I’m staying here and doing those hits tomorrow. If I don’t do them, we’re fucked and I’m not gonna let us get caught. I can’t go to jail. Y/N needs me,” your father says.

Fuches sighs. He’s slowly caving. Barry can see it. He keeps pushing.

“I won’t be able to shoot a gun if I can’t feel my hands.”

“What about the girl?” Fuches points to you, “If I untie her, she’ll make a run for it.”

“I told you she’s staying with me. She won’t leave,” Barry insists.

Fuches takes a deep breath and shakes his head, “Don’t make me regret this.”

Fuches pulls out his Swiss Army Knife once more. He grabs your wrists and cuts the duct tape binding them together. Then he goes to Barry.

“Don’t do anything stupid or the girl is gone. You hear me?” Fuches quietly warns your father.

Barry solemnly nods. He understands. Fuches cuts him loose.

While shaking your wrists trying to get circulation back, Fuches brushes past you. You reflexively cross your arms across your chest to protect yourself.

“Y/N,” Barry gets your attention while walking towards you.

Your father pulls you into a big hug. You hug him back tightly, burying your head into his shoulder. You feel safe now.

After you both pull away, Barry rests his hands on your shoulders and looks you over to make sure you have no injuries.

“You doing okay?” Barry asks in a concerned tone.

“Well isn’t this a cute father/daughter moment?” Fuches snickers at the two of you.

You once again cross your arms against and nervously shift your weight onto your back foot. Barry senses how uncomfortable and afraid you are. He moves directly in front of you, like he’s trying to block Fuches from even looking at you. Barry stares him down, wishing he can wipe the smug expression off his face.

That’s it. Fuck Fuches and his stupid plan. Barry’s getting you out of here tonight.

You passed out not long after Fuches untied you. You’re tired and sore and it all finally caught up to you. Barry offered his bed to you, saying he can sleep on the floor. He didn’t care if it was uncomfortable, he just wanted to be close to you. It also positioned him between you and Fuches. If Fuches wanted to get to you, he’d have to go through Barry.

Fuches took the couch. He insisted on remaining close to the front door in case you and Barry tried leaving in the middle of the night.

After the lights go out, Barry patiently waits for Fuches to doze off. Everything is quiet until Fuches begins to lightly snore. That confirms it for Barry. With Fuches fast asleep, it’s time to make a move. Barry quietly sits up and lightly taps you awake.

“Y/N, wake up! We’re getting out of here,” Barry urgently whispers.

“What?” you groggily ask.

“Trust me.”

Barry takes your hand and helps you out of bed. He keeps hold of your hand, leading you through the dark apartment towards the front door.

Suddenly the lights turn on. You see the only exit now blocked by Fuches. He’s holding a gun.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You gasp. Barry quickly pulls you behind him, putting himself between you and Fuches.

“Fuches, hey. Just relax,” Barry puts his hands up in defense.

“Barry, now what am I going to do about you two?” Fuches wonders aloud.

“This was my fault. Don’t take it out on her,” your father tries.

Fuches shakes his head.

“You, brat...” Fuches points the gun at you,“There are two pairs of handcuffs on the coffee table. Bring them to me.”

You freeze in fear, holding your breath. You can feel the knots in your stomach coming back.

“NOW!” Fuches raises his voice.

“Ok… ok,” you nervously stutter.

You get the handcuffs from the coffee table and then skittishly approach Fuches. Before you can walk past Barry he puts his arm up. You stop in your place.

“Dad?”

“Give me the handcuffs, Y/N. I’ll give them to Fuches,” Barry says with a quiet seriousness in his voice. His eyes are on Fuches the whole time.

You anxiously nod and give your father the handcuffs.

Barry steps forward and slowly walks towards Fuches. If he can get close enough during the exchange, he thinks he can steal away the gun. Barry holds up the handcuffs for Fuches to take when-

Fuches abruptly reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his taser.

ZAP

Barry winces in pain, drops the handcuffs and falls to the floor. He’s temporarily paralyzed, just like what happened when Fuches tased you.

Fuches stands over the incapacitated Barry. He picks up a pair of handcuffs and takes hold of your father’s wrists.

“Get away from him!” you charge towards Fuches.

You try to push Fuches away from Barry but he doesn’t budge. He cuffs Barry and then he shoves you down on the floor as hard as he can.

“Y/N...run…” Barry weakly tells you.

You get up and race towards the door. You can hear Fuches’ footsteps closely behind you, but you’re afraid to look back. You clutch onto the doorknob when you suddenly feel an arm wrap around your waist. Fuches roughly picks you up.

“No!” you scream, then look to Barry for help, “Dad!”

Barry’s paralyzed on the ground and his hands are cuffed behind his back. He can’t stand up and save you. All he can do is helplessly watch.

“Let me go!”

Fuches covers your mouth with his hand, muffling your screams. You struggle and squirm in his arms as he drags you out the door.

Taken series taglist: @midnightseance, @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression

#barry berkman imagine #barry berkman x reader #barry berkman #barry hbo imagine #barry hbo #barry berkman x teen!daughter #barry berkman daughter #bbtd

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amarauder · 4 years

Text

Criminal Girl Relates to Garfield - Percy Jackson x Reader

005. criminal girl relates to garfield

PAIRING; High School AU! Percy Jackson x Reader

REQUEST; Not Applicable

GODLY PARENT; Not Applicable

DATE; June 12th, 2020

WORD COUNT; 8053

WARNING; Bruh so freaking much. friends and families being dicks, panic attacks, crying and pubic humiliation, you're gonna read this and just keep cringing because of reader's dumb ass.

A/N; I think I like High School and Soulmate AUs too much. This isn't a soulmate AU. It was going to originally be but it just didn't match with the plot so I didn't. Still this is my first one and I had so much fun writing it. I think I just related to this reader more than normal. I think this is my favorite one shot to be honest. I'm so happy, I feel like I've fallen in love with writing again. The last few one shots I've just had the best time writing them and it's been difficult to stop writing.

TRAILER; Reader is Percy Jackson's soulmate, potentially a criminal and more than kind of cute.

REQUESTED BY; Not Applicable

Y/N was more than ready for this week to be over. It had started out horribly and only got worse as the days ran their course.

On Monday her Aunt's insane dog, that she had been forced to dog sit, had torn up her favorite shirt. On Tuesday she had forgotten her entire binder at home and received zeros on all of her assignments, and then one of her exams for being blamed for talking when it had really been the kid behind her. On Wednesday, Y/N was supposed to be presenting one of the most important projects of the entire semester in her first period only for her car refusing to start. Of course, when her Dad came home it ran perfectly. Thursday she had found out her position as President of the Economics Club had been handed over to some kid she didn't even know, despite how long she had been working for it. Friday, she had found out her best friend since kindergarten had lied to her face and was hanging out with a girl she loathed.

Her best friend ditching her had hurt her the most. It left an ugly slimy feeling in her chest that felt like some kid attempting to learn CPR for the first time, except she was the mannequin every time she thought of them hanging out together. Despite the chest compression, her self-depreciating thoughts never seemed to leave her. It was like she was trying to torture herself which didn't hurt any less.

To say the least, Y/N was completely drained. Blinking took way too much effort, and yawns seemed to be effortless. The kind of tired that took over after crying too much, so stress relieving that the tightness in her chest released, leaving her slap happy.

After grabbing two boxes of mac and cheese and a huge jug of orange juice, Y/N was on her way to her car. The bagger asked her if she needed any help carrying everything to her car.

She stared blankly at him for a few seconds before looking at her three items. He smiled sheepishly and Y/N felt fortunate to have been blessed with more brains than him.

It wasn't until she reached her car and caught sight of her reflection that she wondered if he had asked because she looked so miserable.

His so called thoughtfulness really didn't make her feel any better. In fact she felt worse. It was like when her Mother's wine group would come over and compare stories of who had been more disrespected. From grocers deciding they were age appropriate to buy wine without asking for an ID to being called Ma'am instead of Miss, Y/N had heard it all. Somehow it all had to do with old age and the grocery store. The wonders of Motherhood in the suburbs.

Placing her groceries on top of her car, she tried to unlatch the trunk. It wouldn't budge.

Hmm, Y/N was pretty sure she had left her it unlocked. Whatever. She wouldn't put it past herself if she had forgotten to lock it.

But when she tried to unlock it, nothing happened. Her car didn't beep or flash it's stupid lights, or anything. The battery in her key had been flickering on and off all week, it was the reason her car wouldn't start on Wednesday morning. But her Dad had said it had at least a few months of life left, not three days.

Her stomach dropped and she felt unshed tears build up in her eyes. Not now, not today. She had enough this week.

Her thumb hovered over the unlock button once more. Y/N almost didn't want to press it, because that would mean finding out her fate and she just wasn't that kind of girl.

She did it anyway. And the old piece of junk sat there like it was ready to retire to the car graveyard. Y/N wasn't ready for her freedom to retire so quickly.

Feeling her tears build up again, more rapidly this time, she dug the palm of her hand into her eyes and leaned against the car. Her throat tightened. She promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore today. She promised...

"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," she whispered to herself, her voice to low to crack. Face screwed shut and her toes curled to will the tightness in her throat away.

The tears eventually made it through which only made her want to cry harder. She was so embarassed. Thoughts ran wild, making her panic harder to control.

How was she going to get home?

How was she going to pay for her car to be fixed?

She really didn't want to go back to walking.

Wouldn't her parents be mad?

What if this was one of those stupid kidnapping schemes that she had seen during a school assembly?

Don't be stupid. Calm down. Focus.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a lady with her dog, eye Y/N warily. A man sitting in his car with his feet propped up on the dashboard and a cigarette hanging between his finger laughed at her despair then ended up in a coughing fit. A woman ushered her child away, who was pointing at her, and gave Y/N a dirty look.

Y/N remained like that until her Mother's advice that she never took to heart rang through her, "Pick yourself up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Life isn't that hard."

She was right and Y/N wiped her tears away hurriedly.

As the knots in her stomach washed away, a new one settled it self in her chest. She was pissed. Furious at life for making her feel like shit, betrayed by her best friend, grades flustering down to nothing, and a position she worked harder than anything in the world for was snatched away before she could even think of savoring it.

It was just shit and completely unfair.

Wiping her tears, Y/N turned towards the driver's handle and pulled on it so hard, that her feet started to slip and she fell on her but.

She could have screamed, but instead she started to curse loudly and kick her car still laying down. She just about to kick the car for the sixth time when someone said behind her, "Uhh, hey, it would be really cool if you could stop trying to destroy my car? I don't know what he did to you, but at this point I think you're in danger of giving him PTSD."

Turning around, she noticed a blurry figure. Tears were still in her eyes making it hard for her to make out who it was but she could tell closing her eyes that he felt awkward. Hell, her guardian angel, no devil at this point, probably felt awkward.

When she blinked her tears away she saw him look suprised, and stumble back a few steps as if her presence shocked him. Which was stupid because unless there was some other person trying to break into the car, she didn't know why he was acting like she had come out of nowhere.

"This is my car, dude."

The teen scratched his neck, then pressed his car keys and suddenly the piece of junk came to life. She blinked hard, trying to comprehend what had just happened in front of her.

A flash of heat surged up her body that couldn't have came up from the exhaust pipe right next to her. She couldn't have been more aggravated and embarrassed. The guy seemed to realize that, because he shifted his weight to his side as he glanced at her. He was right, she was an idiot.

Quickly mumbling an apology, she ran off into the parking lot. Her car had to be around here somewhere and Y/N had never been more than ever determined to find it, or maybe just determined to get away from this situation as soon as possible.

She found it in the exact same spot, just a few rows away. Her brain kept replaying and replaying her embarrassing moment over and over again, leaving her to cringe and try to shoo it away.

If there was a list for the most embarrassing things Y/N had ever done, this would be on the top of the list. She could imagine herself years later, watching her husband struggling to change their kid's diaper as she laughed and talked about this. But right now all Y/N wanted to do was forget that she even existed.

It almost funny the amount of relief she felt just to have her car unlock. Her car, her piece of junk did it's little half-hearted beep, but it sounded rejuvenated as if it knew what she had gone through just for it.

She started the engine, and then let her forehead rest against the wheel in relief. At least that went well.

She was in the middle of her breather when a knock on her window startled her. Y/N took a few more seconds to herself before looking up and seeing the boy from before looking more awkward than when she he was before.

She rolled down the window, and right when he opened his mouth to speak the engine died.

"No," she whispered to herself, her stomach sinking, "No, no, no."

"Um, here's your groceries?" the boy said with a smile, but Y/N only opened the engine after getting out of her car. He stood there for a second before setting them inside the drivers seat and following her. He leaned over the hood and started to hack violently. The engine was fuming and Y/N wanted to cry for what seemed the millionth time that day. "Did you beat this one up too?"

She gave him a look but he only smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, it just slips out sometimes."

"It's okay... You're a boy."

The boy smiled. Did she just notice now? "Nice observation."

"Do you know anything about cars?"

"I know they aren't supposed to smell like that."

Pursing her lips, she rolled her eyes, "Thanks, so helpful."

"I try."

Letting out a laugh of disbelief, she leaned against the car and groaned. What was she going to do know? Even though breaking into the guys car was one of extremely embarrassing, she had been filled with a little bit of hope. The shitty day would end and she could go home. But now... There was no decent solution.

"Umm, would you want a ride in my car?" Y/N raised an eyebrow and he tried to hurriedly explain, "It's just I saw the sticker on your back window and we go to the same school. My Mom would kill me if I just left you here, so..."

The car ride home was so awkwardly silent, Y/N had even asked for his name.

"Percy Jackson," he said and flashed her a smile that she didn't return. She was too tired, and this guy was too happy. He probably shit out sunshine rays and Y/N just... was not about that life. Plus, his name sounded irkingly familiar, as if he had been in one of her previous classes.

"Nice to meet you," she said after a while, her imaginary Mother shaking her fist at the girl during that silent moment, "I'm Y/N L/N."

"Y/N," he repeated, and she almost looked for that feeling that all her friends talked about. The one where their stomachs churned pleasantly and it seemed that they don't even remember what happened before and after seeing him. All the memories from that day were separate. The life they knew before and after her friends met the one. But there was nothing, no shocking realization or fireworks. She could have just met Zeus himself and Y/N wouldn't be able to tell the difference. "Nice name."

"Thanks," she whispered quietly and played with the hem of her shoe. She had originally placed it on the dashboard but Percy sucked in a harsh breath and then the foot was back balancing on her thigh.

"Ya," and then it was awkward silence again.

Inside her mind, Y/N was cringing. This boy was nice, way too nice, and probably the most good looking kid she had ever seen. It was a wonder how she had never noticed him, or at the very least seen him around her school. Now, she had murdered his car, almost broke into it, screamed at him about her engine, and he decides to drive her home because well, she didn't know. It shouldn't matter because she was just repaying him by being awkward.

"Umm, why are you being so nice to me?"

What? God, why was she such a nerd? And an introvert. She needed to go out more.

"Uh," he said and glanced at her as she pointed to the left and he put his blinker on, "I don't know what you mean."

"I beat up your car, probably would have made the stupid alarm go off if you hadn't stopped me and then you follow me to give me my groceries that I had forgotten. My car doesn't start and you offer me a ride home even though you don't know my name." Y/N finished with a huff. Surprisingly, she felt better as if she had just finished crying and got it all off her chest.

"So?"

"So? It's not very high-school boy of you."

Percy laughed, "Well, I'll try harder to be more high school boy if you want."

"No, I like whatever you've got going on here," She said and waved her hand at him.

"Good. I don't feel like pulling over and dropping you off at a random street. Besides, Mom would be pissed at me. When I tell her what happened today, because I'm sorry but I have too. She's going to wonder what took me so long. But, umm," he paused for a second to collect his thoughts, "When I tell her what happened, she's gonna ask if I brought you home or not, and this way I won't have to lie."

He flashed another smile at her and she felt a slight tingle on her face that her friends talked about. But then again, maybe it was her nose going numb from the air conditioning. It was like this boy secretly lived in Alaska. "I'm a shit liar, by the way."

"Couldn't have guessed."

"What gave me away?"

Y/N stared at him for a second before laughing, "You said it."

He had the audacity to look embarrassed, yet please at the same time. "Well, you looked like you needed some cheering up."

Her laugh died from her eyes as the words sunk in. It was not the first time Percy put his foot in his mouth, sometimes he wished he could actually think before he would speak. He would try, but it's not socially acceptable at his age for long periods of silence in between conversations to take place so he can run over his words.

She huffed and crossed her arms, and it felt like Percy's insides were crushed between the space of her chest and twisted limbs. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He gave her a gentle little thing that somewhat resembled the corner of his lips titling up.

Percy didn't know her at all, but she seemed like the girl that was disappointed with the world. Y/N was too pretty to be disappointed. Percy's Mom had always told him that the prettiest people in the world were dreamers, and the world never held up to their expectations.

Percy didn't really like that for Y/N.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, her face never wavering from the road ahead.

"Umm, what's your favorite animal?"

He took Y/N so off guard that she answered, "A cat."

"Why a cat?"

Y/N hesitated, who questions their favorite animal? "Umm, because I relate to them, I think."

"Why because you like lasagna and are scared of accordions?"

"I'm sorry, what?" He had her full attention now. She wasn't even trying to pretend to be mad at him. Her entire body, despite the restrictions of the seatbelt, was turned towards him.

"Have you never heard of Garfield?"

"Of course, I have." Y/N answered, "Who hasn't? But I thought Garfield was scared of scales and diets."

"He is. But he's also scared of accordions. I have to impress you with my extensive Garfield knowledge somehow right?" Y/N snickered, her fingers massaging her forehead. This boy was something else, she liked it.

"Well, do you relate to Garfield?" he asked a minute later.

Y/N laughed so hard that the back of her head hit the seat and she snorted, which only set her into another laughing fit. "I'm sorry," she said still giggling a little bit, "It's just who relates to Garfield?"

"A girl who tries to break into cars, I guess."

Y/N didn't think Percy had it in him to be so sarcastic. After spending a little under fifteen minutes with him, she had judged him as the boy who apologized despite doing nothing wrong and had fallen in love with his best friend but would never tell them. The boy who lived next door type.

He was sweet, and funny, and so incorrigibly cute that Y/N was shocked that she had been able to have a decent conversation with him.

So, she did what she did best with cute boys: pretend she wasn't attracted to them.

She shoved his arm even though he was driving, ignored him after with a fake pout, and even refused to say goodbye to him as she got out of the car. He had laughed at all of her antics and kept repeating his goodbyes over and over, getting louder and louder with each one.

After the door was shut, she snuck over to the window where the curtains were drawn and peeked through. He was still there, staring at the door. She watched him until he drove off.

A surreal giggle peeked through her, her smile seeming unable to wipe off. Her body thrummed with energy. For the first time in a while, her chest felt light and airy, as if drugged with hope.

The magical energy in the form of Percy Jackson had worn off by the time school started that Monday. She had gotten to school as late as possible that day, her stomach twisting and turning itself. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was see her best friend. Y/N had ignored her the entire weekend, all her calls and texts had gone ignored. Her own actions had almost been surprising to her, she had a knack for forgiving others who didn't deserve her mercy. Y/N supposed she had finally had enough.

Fortunately, she had gotten through the entire first half of the day without seeing her by ignoring her texts and calls, dodging her attempts at meeting Y/N at her own locker, and even purposely coming into Y/N's class with the excuse of office aid.

It was now lunchtime and Y/N was lucky enough to have her first meeting of the Environmental Club scheduled today. Her best friend would never even think of stepping in here, Y/N had too many good friends who would love to give her a good shove.

Even though she was thankful to have somewhere to hide from her friend, Y/N was anxious to enter the classroom. Her nerves felt fuzzy from toes to her hairline, which only made her more nervous. Y/N had a habit of stumbling over her words when she was nervous, and she did not need that today.

The meeting room was just an empty classroom with her biology teacher from freshman year eating a sandwich in the corner of the classroom. Y/N was almost 100% sure he was a biker version of Santa Claus. Sure, he was a lot less generous with his grades, but he looked exactly like the Santas at the mall just with tattoos and a tommy bahama shirt.

The turnout varied. There were the usual, Y/N, Triton the President of the club, this random freshman named Tyson, Grover and his girlfriend. That was about it. Sometimes it was just them. Other times, usually when there was pizza, a lot more people showed up.

Today was one of those days. A group of giggling freshman girls eyed Triton appreciatively, while a girl named Ella and Tyson went over notes in the corner. Grover smiled and waved from the pizza stand and Y/N grimaced but waved back.

Gods, this was going to be at the top of her list of embarrassing moments, right next to having a mental breakdown with Percy's car.

Triton started off the meeting with his usual greetings of putting Y/N in charge. He grinned down at her menacingly once he announced she would be taking over the rest of the meeting. She had never wanted to flip off someone so much that Y/N pressed her hand against her thigh and flipped him off secretly.

Triton moved off the stand and sat on his phone by Tyson and the freshman girls, they giggled and moved closer to him.

She rolled her eyes and smiled at everyone from the platform despite her trembling fingers and her tongue feeling as if it weighed tons.

Y/N tried to focus on the light from the windows lighting up dust like tiny stars and the way the crank from the air conditioning reminded her of boring days in this classroom where there wasn't the threatening future looming over her.

Triton expected her to announce her own failure. She wanted to cry.

Triton was the biggest asshole she had ever met. He had been held back so many times that no one truly knew how old he was, and nobody dared to ask. The one thing he somewhat cared about was this club. He had been President for the past how many years he had been here despite that he did nothing.

As it was her Senior year and Y/N had never worked so hard to keep a club going, she decided to run for President. It turned out that Triton was finally graduating but it never occurred to him that he would have to give up his position. Y/N had never seen him so mad in her life, and he decided to punish her for his graduation.

She took a breath and smiled at everyone. She could do this. "Hey guys. So thank you for coming today. Pizza will be served at the end of the meeting, as per usual." She said and leaned against the podium. Her voice was shaking but Y/N had to pretend she didn't realize for her own sanity. Looking more casual would hopefully calm her down. Maybe looking around the crowd would help. "Umm, today we are revealing next year's President which is really exciting-" As people started to clap, she choked on air, and suddenly she was stuck in a coughing fit struggling to catch a breath. Percy had been sitting in the back. They had made eye contact and then she had forgotten how to breathe.

Hands were on her back, and she was guided outside the classroom then sat down by the lockers. The feet left and she coughed some more but it died down. The tickle in her throat felt like someone was itching her throat with a feather. Y/N had to clear her throat multiple times to try to get it to go away but nothing worked. Her lungs burned as she filled them with air. She felt her hands shaking violently again and she leaned her head against the lockers.

She hadn't even gotten to the announcement part.

A water bottle was handed to her but she didn't move to open it. Pretty, tan hands did it instead, she watched them languidly.

"I think I have a knack for creating your breakdowns," Percy said with a smile. She looked up at him with her hand still against the locker. Her lips felt too heavy to give him a real smile, so she settled for a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "I don't know about you, but sleeping in the hallways isn't really ideal."

Y/N snorted and her chest fluttered. She sat up then and took the water. Her throat was so parched it burned as the water went down.

"Ya, I'm not one for naps on floors that haven't been cleaned since the school opened either. Just when I start yacking so hard, you have to bring me outside."

Percy laughed and it was so contagious that she caught herself giggling with him.

"How's Garfield?"

"Garfield?" Y/N questioned.

"Ya, you know," Percy said and stuffed his hands into his hoodie. She wondered how often he did that. "Garfield, your car."

"What?" Y/N said laughing as she looked at him. He was already looking at him and Y/N hurriedly turned towards the lockers in front of her again. Yay, now she made things even more awkward. But Y/N couldn't help it, he really liked eye contact and Y/N didn't. End of story. "I've never named my car anything."

"I had a feeling. You don't seem the type, so I named him for you. Garfield in honor of your favorite animal."

Y/N hit him with the water bottle. If any other person had done this, then they probably would have remembered to put the cap on. It was too bad she was a world class idiot. However, to her horror, Y/N had only realized that would happen once it did.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Y/N scrambled around for anything to dry the water with but all she found was a disgustingly dirty straw wrapper and a dried piece of gum. Y/N didn't know him that well, but she figured he wouldn't want to use that. She settled for using her own shirt instead.

Percy was laughing the entire time, and was pushing away her hands. It was like Percy was made just to embarrass her, as if baby bunnies were going to die everyday if she didn't embarrass herself every time he was around. "Y/N, Y/N," he repeated, grabbing her hands and placing them in his lap, "It's fine." She wouldn't look up at him and continued to look at their hands. He was so close to her that her focus had gone out the window. Her hands were abuzz and Y/N felt another coughing fit coming along.

It was just like her friends had explained. Oh god, it was exactly the same. Her tirade of a crush smashing Y/N with the weight of it.

"Y/N, I don't care honestly," her heart pounded in her throat and Y/N started to laugh nervously. She was screwed. "If anything it will just piss off Octavian which makes this even better." Percy said, mistaking her panic for spilling water on him. Gods, he probably thought she was a freak.

Fortunately, Grover came into the room. She had never been more thankful for him, Y/N had a feeling that if Percy spend anymore time this close to her she was going to either faint or have another coughing fit, maybe even both. "Come on, Percy. Triton just announced that you were President, he wants a little speech."

"Speech?"

Grover shrugged, "That's what he said. Although, I have a feeling that you could tell him that the world was dying and he would be crying tears of happiness."

He patted Y/N's head, and she tried to engrain this feeling into her brain. "You'll be fine right."

She nodded, and his hands left her. It was like a light switch had turned on and suddenly her brain started working again.

Y/N grabbed Percy's wrist before he left, "You're the President."

Percy nodded and Y/N muttered a little, "Oh," under her breath. She didn't know quite how to feel anymore. How had she not noticed before? It must have been why his name sounded so familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on where she had remembered him from.

Percy went to kneel next to her again, but Grover cleared his throat. He looked torn, and looked at Y/N then Grover and back again before leaving with a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shy away but wouldn't look at him either.

Just as they crossed the threshold Y/N heard Grover tell Percy that Y/N was supposed to be President. Her lip quivered, but she pressed them together. She could practically feel Percy's glance at her. She wanted to hit Grover in the back of the head and also wanted to run away. If she wasn't so emotionally drained she probably would have.

Y/N met her fate at the end of the third period. Her next class was a free period, fortunately. It gave her just enough time to wait in line for the food line.

"Hey, criminal girl," someone whispered into her ear. She just about jumped four feet.

She turned around to see Percy. Her chest hurt a little, and she wasn't sure it's from the scare or Percy giving her all of his attention. Y/N settled for both.

"Umm, hey," she said and eyed the two boys behind him. The pair looked almost identical, except for their different sized scars on their face, and the one on the left was taller. They were giggling like elementary school children and making suggestive faces at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Hoping to cut in line with you," Percy says, a plea in his voice.

Y/N meant in a general, in a what are you doing here talking to me? kind of way. If Y/N were Percy, she would have stayed as far away from his as possible. But then again, she knew that wasn't true. Percy could have told her he was half god and the son of the god of fish poop and Y/N would have swooned.

"What are you doing here?"

She gave him a look when he started to snicker, then marched past him and threw out her hand with a smile, "Y/N L/N."

Both boys looked shocked that she had started to talk to them and Y/N couldn't lie. She was just as surprised by her actions. Fortunately, they didn't seem to mind and kickstarted into action. The taller one of the left with a faded scar running down the side of his face said, "Luke Castellan. Nice to meet the girl Perseus hasn't stopped talking about for the last few days."

"Your name is Perseus?" Y/N asked a shit eating grin creeping up her face. Percy looked like he just found out Gaea was coming after him. She turned back to the Luke kid who had turned red from trying not to laugh, "I want to personally thank you for that information. It's priceless."

Percy grumbled.

"Hey Y/N," the other one said. She was surprised he knew who she was. Jason was less boisterous than the other two, but still just as mischievous. He had a a type of quiet confidence and grace to him that made her want to hang onto every word she gave him. Y/N also spent a day with him each month, trying to figure out the balance of money she could spend on the club. "So, you're the girl who tried to steal the piece of junk."

"Hey!" Percy exclaimed, "Leave Blackjack out of this!"

"Blackjack?" Y/N questioned.

"My car," Percy said softly to her then scratched his neck.

She laughed quietly, then studied the three boys. "Are you two related?" Y/N asked and pointed to Jason and Luke.

"Nah, I'm dating Jason's sister but Percy and Lightning Skull over here are cousins."

Y/N nodded, processing this information. How had she not seen Percy around? Jason Grace was the Senior Class President, she had to attend monthly meetings to go over the Environmental Club treasury.

A voice cut through their conversation, making Y/N look over Luke's shoulder to see who it was. Piper McClean, the TV anchor and Speech and Debate finalist was walking over with a smile. Her grin was directed at Jason, but just being in the crossfire felt like a gift.

It seemed Jason felt that way too because he suddenly straightened up and turned red in under 2.5 seconds. He walked away with a halfhearted gesture that could have passed as a wave goodbye.

Luke snickered then pointed towards the potential couple with his thumb, "I'm gonna go find Thals while the idiot is love sick."

The line had moved up while Y/N had been distracted, and she flashed a smile at her fellow seniors then ran up to join Percy. He was already forking out some money to pay for whatever food he wanted.

"They seem nice."

"Hmm," Percy said, not looking up from his wallet, "Oh, ya. I've known Jason since Summer and Luke for even longer."

"I thought you and Jason were cousins."

"We are," Percy said and smiled triumphantly when he found a ten dollar bill. She couldn't help but bask in her contentment. Her breaths were coming in deeper and easier. She felt like she had fallen into Sally from Spongebob's little bubble house, there were no threats to take away this short-lived happiness at the moment. "My Dad and my uncle don't get along. Besides, my Dad left when I was young. It wasn't until Jason came over the Summer after meeting at Summer camp and my Mom hugged him for longer than normal that she told us."

Y/N didn't know what to say. She was fortunate enough to have all her family members with her, it wasn't perfect and her parents seemed to really adore fighting. But something is better than nothing. "Shit," she paused, "I know we don't know each other too well, but I'm sorry, Percy."

Percy shrugged with a smile. His hands were buried deep into his hoodie. He looked like the main protagonist in some cheesy coming of age movie, where a cheerleader decides to scoop up the hot but oddball kid in her Shakespeare class. "I mean, you can't really miss something you never had."

Y/N tilted her head from side to side and considered his words, "I never thought of it that way."

"That's why I am known as a secret genius in these halls."

Y/N laughed, "Known? My ass." She was impressed with herself. Y/N hadn't embarrassed herself yet, and she even had introduced herself to one if his friends.

"No one's gonna know the new kid."

Now, that took Y/N by surprise, "You're new? That makes so much more sense." She leaned her head against her hand which was resting on the sill of the window as they finally reached the front of the line.

It was why she had never noticed him before, why Jason and Luke were hanging out together, why Percy knew Jason. It just all seemed to connect under seconds.

"Hey Rachel!" Y/N grinned, perking up from seeing her old friend. Rachel had been on her sports team freshman year. Y/N spent most of her time on the bench, still did, but Rachel had been there along with her so it was okay. She was a good friend and an even funnier person. Rachel had no licensee, which left Y/N's sophomore season screaming the entire way to their away games.

"Hi," she smiled and Y/N wanted to laugh. Rachel's smile was incredibly contagious, something about it being too mischievous to be anything good. "What can I get for you two?"

They ordered and Rachel nor Percy wouldn't let her pay. "It will make your payment easier for breaking into my car. Then you can drive me home and buy me lunch. Maybe even a little beating up the car sesh."

Y/N looked at Rachel wide eyed. Her heart picked up at the thought of spending time with him outside of school. "You never said anything about a repayal." She objected, and tried to swipe food from him.

He pivoted and held everything over his head, out of her reach. She crossed her arms and glared at him. His green eyes twinkled, and she marveled at how shockingly handsome he was. It truly wasn't fair. If she had his beauty, she would have used it to her advantage but then again, he probably does.

"Well, you kind of beat up my car, criminal girl. I was hoping for at least a thank you."

Y/N rolled her eyes. He had this way of backing her into her own corners. He turned his back and continued his purchase, shooting a victorious look over his shoulder as the receipt printed out.

Y/N stood alone by the cashier for a whiplashed moment. Jesus Christ. What the fuck was going on? She felt like she was meeting Percy over again. He acted so differently than when he was in the car.

It was like she'd been sucked into a tornado, tossed around, and then spit out alone in the front of the lunch line.

He threw away the cover at the trashcan and Y/N reluctantly walked up next to him, the condiments were right next to the trash can. He grinned at her and she struggled not to return it. "We're going to spend a lot more time together, so you're going to have to turn that frown upside down."

Y/N snickered and elbowed him. He grinned and leaned against the trash can. She eyed him and wrinkled her nose. So disgusting.

He quickly got off it, as if he hadn't realized what he was going. Percy brushed off the sleeve of his hoodie then smelled it. It only made Y/N laugh harder and shake her head. "What do you mean spend more time together?"

"Well, one you owe me," he said and shot her a look. The smirk on her face made her wary. "And the Environmental Club rulebook states that co-presidents have to spend loads of time together."

He was walking backwards and Y/N couldn't lie she was impressed until he stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not co-President then."

"What if I told you, you were." Percy said, studying her. Her head shot up so fast, her vision blurred. It was as if an airplane from the sky had just dropped a bunch of wooden skewers right on her. They didn't hurt her, she was more shocked than anything. "Grover told me what happened and I just thought it was entirely unfair what Triton did to you. And you're fun to be around so during my speech I said that you were co-president but couldn't come in cause you were still coughing. Everyone seemed to believe it, so."

Y/N was quiet. She had never been so touched in her life. Being everyone's second choice sucked, but Percy had just admitted he thought she was fun. For a lot of people it wouldn't seem like such a big deal but Y/N felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I mean, you don't have to do it, if you don't want to. I can always tell everyone it had been a mistake. You're just a cool person and stuff. I would have a better time being president if you were doing it with me."

"I'd love to, Percy."

"Really?" Percy looked up from where he was tracing the sidewalk with his shoe. She had never seen him so happy yet shy. Y/N bit her cheek to keep herself from smiling too big. She felt tingly all over, it was stupid but she liked it. It wasn't electricity like how her friends had said they felt with their boyfriends, Y/N had never been electrocuted so she didn't know how it felt. But somehow she knew that Percy was more than just tiny shocks.

They were assigned their first project together a week later. Co-Presidency was a lot more fun than she had thought. Percy had used the excuse of inviting Y/N over to his table for lunch to 'discuss tactics'. Y/N knew that wasn't what he meant but she didn't mention anything.

Her best friend had asked to speak to her when she was studying with Percy. It was more like Percy whining about how senior year was supposed to be easy and how his life was so hard, while Y/N asked him questions from her stack of flashcards.

But the second Percy saw the panic on her face, he had asked her politely if she could talk to Y/N later because he had a test next period and really needed the help.

Y/N had thought he was bad at lying.

Once she left, Percy had put an arm around her and brought Y/N closer to him. He whispered into her ear, "I got you, criminal girl."

She smiled at her lap, and risked a glance at him. He was staring at her as if she was some question on a test he couldn't figure out. He held her intimacy of being understood in his hands.

She leaned into him.

At the end of the day, Percy met Y/N by her car. Their cars were amongst the last few left, except for some of the athletic representation and staff. Her shoes squeak against the pavement, but he doesn't even flinch; he just smiles at her.

She knocks his hat down as a makeshift greeting and a way to distract him so she doesn't see her double-checking it is in fact her car. Y/N already made a fool of herself before, she didn't want to do it again.

Unfortunately, he notices because he snickers behind her and jabs her sides. Her heart leaps into her throat then drops down to her feet, like some rollercoaster ride. She has to lean against the car to calm her racing breath. He laughs even harder at that and grabs her keys from her purse before getting in the passenger seat.

Once Y/N feels confident enough that she won't have a stroke around him, she gets in the car. Percy already has plugged his phone into apple car play and is playing some dumb song from his playlist. She faintly recognizes it as some song from the Little Mermaid.

"I don't think I needed the keys to get in here, did I?"

Y/N laughs and starts it, fortunately Garfield doesn't stall, "Probably not." She is about to pull out when she remembers that Percy is still in her car. "Now, get out. I have to go home."

"To do what?"

Y/N huffs and feels embarrassment climbing up her spine like the slimy snake in Adam and Eve, encouraging her to make up some lie so she can look cooler. But unlike them she doesn't fall into that pit, "I dunno."

"Okay, so no plans for the rest of the night then."

Y/N gives him a look that lets him know he isn't even a quarter as casual as he thinks he is. Percy takes it in stride, since Y/N answers his question despite his glaring obviousness. "I mean the only thing I planned on was going home and finishing my book, unless someone has a better idea."

She hopes Percy supposes he's supposed to be that someone, but sadly, he hasn't thought this far ahead into the conversation. He fumbles, stammering out little nonsensical half-sentences, but Y/N is blissfully unbothered. "Don't we have to work on the project?" His head is leaning against the headrest and Y/N wonders how someone stuttering can look so casual, and composed, and pretty.

He lights up then, and Y/N smiles unconsciously. Her heart beats a bit faster when his eyes met her own. She doesn't look away, and she feels this pull. The rest of the world turns into white noise, non-existent and unimportant. Y/N wants to reach out and touch him, just feel his skin against her own. It's addicting and exhilarating. "Ya," his voice comes out deeper than normal, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again, but even then it comes out softer than normal. He's doing this thing with his eyes, it makes her stomach flutter. And even though she shouldn't, she wanted to kiss him. "That's a good idea."

They stared at each other unapologetically as they sat there. Her eyes traveled from his aqua green eyes that resembled the ocean so much that she felt a serene feeling wash over her, as if she had just taken a whiff of salt water. Then, she realized that it was just Percy. Something about knowing how he smelled made her heart pound. She wondered how he kissed, whether he liked to go fast or slow. She knew that with him it wouldn't matter to her. Her eyes moved down to his throat and watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She saw the tilt of his lips and a flash of a dimple, the dip of his collarbone, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

By the time she looked back up, neither of them moved, even though Percy had just admitted that he wanted to leave.

And then suddenly he was moving. He put his phone in the cup holder, and his fingers brushed against hers in a split second of what felt like life. Then he slid across the seat and slipped her cheeks into his warm hands, his fingers raked through the back of her hair, and Percy kissed Y/N.

He barely touched her. Just a light brushing of lips against hers, the slightest feel of his breath on her face.

It shot through her in milliseconds. Even though it was just a press of lips, her breathing was ragged.

His hands were still stuck in her hair, and he was still so close to her. It made her a little breathless.

They stayed there, just taking each other in, neither moving or breaking eye contact. He looked at her like it was work not to look at Y/N. It's silent until it's not.

"You know those people you just sort of... vibe with?" Percy whispered, his eyes closing as he leans his forehead against hers. Her breath shudders.

She was glad he asked the question before invading her personal space again, her focus always went out the window. "Vibe with?" She giggles a little at the choice of word.

But Percy doesn't, he looks at her with a kind of seriousness that silences her immediately. Then, she thinks about his question, really thinks about it. Y/N was familiar with it. There are some people that when you meet you just click with, their vibes just vibe with yours. Those are the people you want to keep in forever because at the end of the day, they are who you want to be and Percy is more herself than she is.

But instead of staying that she just nods, and their noses brush. His lips quirk up. "Well, you are that person for me, I think."

Y/N smiles, and plants one of him. When she peels herself away from him, he chases her lips and she lets him. Choosing instead to murmur against his, "You're that person for me too."

#percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson #high school au #percy jackson imagine #PJO #pjo imagine #pjo x reader

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kelyon · 3 years

Text

Golden Rings 15: A Home

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Mrs. Gold puts herself to bed

Read on AO3

Mrs. Gold rested her forehead against the passenger window of the squad car. The cold glass gave her something to focus on. Something real and solid in this swirling haze of booze and impossible facts.

Sheriff Swan was driving her home. Graham had done this, more times than she could remember. Whenever she was out making too much trouble to ignore, Graham would take her back to Mr. Gold.

Emma Swan was taking her away from him.

Graham had always been quiet, but Emma kept trying to talk. Mrs. Gold kept her face to the window and let the words wash over her.

“I know it’s hard to get out of a bad relationship. I can’t imagine what it’s like to get out of a bad marriage. But it’s really important that you learn to put yourself first. Put your own safety first. And if that means walking away--then you just gotta do the brave thing.”

Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.

The words felt weird in her head, foreign and familiar at the same time. Like something she had known once, but forgotten. What was she remembering it from? A movie? Some hokey book she’d read as a kid?

Mrs. Gold had never cared much about being brave. It didn’t take courage to do what Mr. Gold ordered her to. If she was being honest with herself, she did tend to obey him out of fear--fear of disappointing him, fear of his disdain. Fear of losing everything he gave her, especially those scant, precious fragments of himself.

“And I will help you! I just need you to tell me you need help.” Emma Swan was still talking. “Just give me a reason. I’m not afraid to use excessive force.”

She looked up. “On Mr. Gold?”

Emma pulled into the driveway of Mr. Gold’s house and parked the car. “Why not give a wife beater a taste of his own medicine?”

“He’s is not--”

“Yeah, but he’s not a responsible dominant either,” Emma cut her off. “The kinky stuff is based around trust, so you gotta find someone who’s trustworthy. Good for you if you like pain play, but for the love of God, don’t give that kind of power to someone who isn’t going to care about you.”

“I told you in the station, the problem isn’t how Mr. Gold uses me. The problem is that he hasn’t done anything with me in months!” Fighting off tears, Mrs. Gold unbuckled her seat belt and tried to bolt out of the car.

She got two steps toward the house before everything got all spinny again and she had to slow down. Before she knew it, Sheriff Swan was beside her, holding her up by the elbow.

“Okay, lightweight, whatever you say.”

Mrs. Gold jerked her arm away. “I’m alright on my own.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She was still walking beside her. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tuck you into bed. Unless you invite me in or I have reason to believe a crime in progress, my jurisdiction ends at the front door.”

“Whatever,” Mrs. Gold muttered. She had Mr. Gold’s keys in her coat pocket. The weight of them was like ballast on a sailboat. They steadied her.

Emma followed behind her as she went up the porch steps. She waited by the door while Mrs. Gold fumbled with the keys. There were so many of them. Months ago, Mr. Gold had sent her out to have copies of the house and shop keys made for herself. That was one of the first strange things he’d done. Those keys were in her purse in the front hall. She still wasn’t used to letting herself come and go. Mr. Gold’s key was original to the house, a brass skeleton key from the 1890s. It wasn’t any trouble to open the door and walk in.

“You gonna get the lights?” Emma asked.

“No,” Mrs. Gold held her head high. “I like the dark.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Guess that’s your choice. But before I go, I gotta say it again: Call me, if you need help. Or if you have questions about how other people do BDSM. Or if you just wanna talk. Okay?”

Safe in the darkness, Mrs. Gold gave a condescending smile and a nod. “Sounds great.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“Sure,” she said. And shut the door.

****

She didn’t turn the lights on as she made her way to the kitchen. Mr. Gold’s house was big enough and clean enough that she never worried about bumping into things or stumbling over a pile of clutter. Nothing like the place where she’d grown up--cramped and filthy, piled high with junk. They never wanted to throw anything away. You never knew when you might need something that you hadn’t used in ten years, but you knew it was wrong to waste money on getting a new one when there was a perfectly good one around here somewhere.

Mr. Gold’s house was a better home than her father’s house had ever been.

She didn’t stop moving until she got the refrigerator. Wincing against the blinding light, she searched for a bottle of sparkling water. She put the cool glass against her swollen eyes and sighed. She kicked away her heels and leaned against the refrigerator door. When she drank, the bubbles popped sharply against the inside of her mouth. It was a needle-sharp pain, soothing in its way.

She’d never drunk sparkling water before she met Mr. Gold. They always used the tap, and if it tasted like dirt or sand, well that was just extra minerals. Not like they could do anything about it. If it tasted like chlorine or carcinogenic runoff from some factory upstream, they couldn’t do anything about that either. People like them just had to keep drinking what life gave them because they couldn’t afford anything better.

She’d have to go back to that--if anything happened between her and Mr. Gold. If he decided he didn’t want to be married to her anymore. Their pre-nuptial contract was very clear: If the marriage ended for any reason, Mr. Gold kept everything. Even her clothes and jewelry. Even her wedding ring.

And her father would have to start paying rent again. She’d never hear the end of that. Of course, she never heard the end of it when Mr. Gold told him he didn’t have to pay rent anymore. Or, more specifically, that whether or not he had to pay rent was entirely up to Mrs. Gold.

The idiot florist had hated hearing that. Mr. Gold had given his daughter financial control of his shop and his house. She could waive the rent or charge him double or kick him on the curb and burn the buildings to the ground as she saw fit. Her father had sputtered and raged and sworn a blue streak when he’d found out. But marrying Mr. Gold meant she didn’t have to listen to his tantrums anymore.

Would he take her back? If Mr. Gold kicked her out, would she even have the option of living with her father again?

He’d told her she could, on the day that she left. Her father had said that she could always come back. But she knew that he meant she could leave Mr. Gold and apologize for the unforgivable crime of liking sex. She could live with her father if she was willing to put herself on his idea of good behavior. If she never told him what she really thought about anything. If she was willing to cook and clean and slave away in the flower shop just so the two of them could have enough money to scrape by. Like she was a fucking teenager again.

Shitty as it would be to be back in that house, it was probably better than being homeless.

She finished the bottle and threw it in the trash. She still hadn’t turned on any of the lights. She could walk around Mr. Gold’s house blindfolded. In fact she had, many times. And on her hands and knees. And on a leash. And with a ten-inch dildo in every hole she had. That was how Mrs. Gold paid rent.

Do you have somebody you can stay with tonight?

Emma Swan’s words had been ringing through her head since she’d first heard them outside of Granny’s. She’d told the Sheriff that she didn’t have anyone. That was probably true. No one who would pick her up at the police station, at least. No one who would want to deal with her while she was drunk and emotional. No one wanted Mrs. Gold when she was at her worst.

Not even Mr. Gold.

****

The door to the bedroom was open. The bedroom, where all this trouble had begun. She’d had a dream that her husband loved her, and when she’d woken up, she’d tried to make it real.

But he had been dreaming about Belle.

Belle.

The name had a weird echo in her mind. The other woman. Her husband’s lover. The only other person she could blame for her unhappiness. Was Mr. Gold thinking about Belle now? Would he tell Belle that he had spent a night in jail?

Would he tell her he had done it so Mrs. Gold wouldn’t have to?

In the bathroom, she ran a washcloth under hot water and pressed it against her face. Most of her makeup had been cried off earlier, so the wash was more for warmth. When Mrs. Gold looked at herself in the mirror, all she saw was her own exhaustion. Red eyes, flushed cheeks, quivering lips. Even cleaned up, she was still a mess.

But Mr. Gold had put himself in jail for her.

She looked closer at her reflection, so close that she pressed her forehead to the glass. So close that she couldn’t see the whole of her face. She was just an abstraction, broken apart into pieces. What about her was worth that kind of sacrifice? What about her was worth anything? In the mirror, she was nothing but pink skin, dark lashes, sky blue eyes.

Mama’s eyes.

Mrs. Gold jerked away from the mirror like it had electrocuted her. Maybe it had. Something had to happen to make her hear a voice in her head.

It was her own voice. Only sadder, more gentle. That was how her thoughts had been in the squad car too. And she’d heard it before then. Off and on, in little flashes just like this. She’d been hearing it for weeks.

If there was anything creepier than hearing a voice in your head, it had to be agreeing with that voice. It was right, she did have Mom’s eyes. Sky-blue, just like Uncle Peter and Andrew used to have. Just like Janine and Chloe still did.

But she had never thought of her mother as mama. That sounded like something from some historical drama where everyone wore ball gowns and corsets. Maybe she was being possessed by the spirit of a Regency aristocrat. Maybe one of her past lives was trying to communicate with her from beyond the grave.

Or maybe she was very, very drunk.

She turned the light off in the bathroom and peeled off her dress, then looked around her armoire for something she could sleep in. Mr. Gold had never bought her any comfortable pajamas, only negligees and skimpy short sets. In the past--which Mrs. Gold was about two weeks away from thinking of as “the good old days”--she’d rarely worn anything to bed. Once they got home, the only reason she wore clothes was so Mr. Gold could take them off. Especially her lingerie. Mr. Gold liked nothing more than to rip her underwear off her body and leave her in tattered rags before he fucked her

Mara Trudine probably couldn’t have kept Sugar ‘n’ Spice in business if Mrs. Gold hadn’t needed to restock on panties every week. Well, that was one way to help out an old friend.

There was one long sleeved tee-shirt in her wardrobe. It was mostly see-through, with a pattern of red velvet roses dotting the thin red mesh. In the magazine, the model had worn this shirt with a camisole underneath. Mrs. Gold was lucky if Mr. Gold let her wear a bra when she went out in this shirt.

But it was the closest thing to comfortable that she had. A pair of leggings would keep her legs warm. Mrs. Gold didn’t own any sweatpants or yoga pants--or any pants at all for that matter. Mr. Gold had always treasured the ability to grab her whenever he wanted her. Skirts and dresses provided the best access, so that was all he let her buy.

She sighed. Of course, that was in the past. The way Mr. Gold was acting now, he might as well have bought her a space suit to wear around town, helmet and all.

This was the first night she’d ever spent alone in this house. This was the first time she’d ever gotten into this bed and not expected Mr. Gold to join her. As she pulled back the quilt, Mrs. Gold was struck with a memory from last night: Her husband, trembling with rage, throwing this same blanket over her body before he left. She had tried to make love to him. She had tried to pretend to be Belle, just to get him to touch her. And he had seen it as a betrayal, a violation.

He was right.

Mrs. Gold knew that she had done wrong. Her actions were not just immoral, but incorrect. In trying to force her husband to be near her, she had only made him want to be further away. He had run away from her to the guest bedroom. Run and hid, like she was a monster.

Emma Swan kept trying to protect Mrs. Gold, but she didn’t understand. Mrs. Gold hadn’t just done wrong, she was wrong. She was the wrong person. It felt like she always had been. Wrong as a daughter, wrong as a friend, wrong as a student, wrong as a girlfriend.

Wrong as a wife.

For as long as she’d been married, she had told herself that the feeling of wrongness didn’t matter. No one’s opinion of her mattered except for Mr. Gold’s. She didn’t have to be good at anything else, as long as she was the slutwife he wanted. But over the past several months, he had made it clear how little he wanted anything to do with her. Maybe he hated her as much as everyone else in Storybrooke did.

She couldn’t sleep in this bed. This was their marriage bed. If their marriage was broken she’d be better off sleeping on the floor. At the very least, she would follow in Mr. Gold’s footsteps and run away to the guest room. There, she knew, she wouldn’t have the memory of Mr. Gold hating her. If he thought of Belle while he had waited for sleep last night, she didn’t know it for certain. She wouldn’t have to think about it.

With the lights still out, Mrs. Gold went across the hall to the other bedroom. Mr. Gold’s dressing gown hung from a hook behind the door. She buried her face in the silk and breathed in his scent. Before she could think about what she was doing, Mrs. Gold had wrapped the dressing gown around her body. She pulled it tightly over her shoulders, hugging herself, pretending Mr. Gold was holding her. Pretending that Mr. Gold would ever hold her again.

This bed was smaller than the one in their room. It felt less empty with only one person in it. The pillow smelled like Mr. Gold’s hair.

I love you.

The voice in her head again, saying what she wanted to say. She had never told Mr. Gold that she loved him. Until recently, she didn’t know that she had. Now the knowledge was a burden. It was an ache in her heart, a hole that would never be filled.

Everything was over.

****

He leaves her in a swirl of wine-red smoke, at exactly the stroke of midnight. He goes, to walk into a trap the two of them have all but set themselves. He goes, to keep her safe from his enemies. He goes, to lay down the final pieces of the plan that will--someday--lead to their complete happiness.

As he leaves, he keeps his face turned away from her. She understands. When he gets to where he is going, he will have to wear the mask of a devious trickster. Tears would spoil the effect.

Her eyes are moist as she watches him disappear.

Candlelight reflects the golden sparkles in the skin of his hands, the glinting crinkles of his hair. His leather-clad back has a dark gleam to it. He keeps his shoulders straight, his arms poised--ready to put on a show.

She cannot look away from him. She would say that she is memorizing him, but she already knows him by heart.

They will be together again.

She must believe that, even when he is gone from their home. She trusts her husband. She trusts the plan they have made together. She trusts herself. She will ensure that they are together again. She can do the brave thing and know that bravery will follow. Though the power she has is small and meager, there is enough determination in her to move the world if she needs to.

If Rumple needs her to.

She cannot stay staring at the place where he was. There is work to be done. Her husband is doing his part of the plan, now she must do hers.

Since she is already in the dining room of their castle, her first task is to fetch the chipped cup. It sits in a place of honor on top of the magical cupboard that creates their meals.

The sight of this cup never fails to make her smile. She had dropped it, on the first of many times one of her master’s orders had shocked her. For a time, it was a shameful thing for her, a sign of failure. Over time, she had decided that she liked his orders, and that she wanted him to give her more. She had offered him the imperfect cup, and he had understood what she had wanted--and he had given it to her.

When she had left, her lover had destroyed this room. He had smashed all the plates and cups, except for this. Later, he told her that he had wanted to throw it against the wall, but instead he had broken down in tears. He had it clutched to his chest when she found him in the dungeons.

Since the wedding, the meaning of the cup changed again. Now they serve each other, whenever they wish to play. The cup is imperfect, but it is beautiful because of what it means to them. It was the first object they shared together, even before their wedding rings.

She holds it delicately, as she walks to the next room. The night is dark, but torches light at her approach. Even if they didn’t, she knows the way. The castle is her home, and she walks without fear through every hallway.

The small room at the end of the corridor holds everything Rumple has of his son. There are clothes and toys and even a few battered schoolbooks. This is the boy that he lost a lifetime ago. This is the boy that he will destroy the world to get back. She has never met Baelfire, but she loves him. She will do anything she can to reunite her husband with his son.

If she could, she would take everything in this room. The memories are so precious. She would give them to the boy, once they find him. But her husband has given her specific instructions, and she trusts him enough to follow them. Magic can be fickle, especially when there are too many variables. If they ask it for too much, there is a greater chance that something might go wrong, and an even higher price to pay. They will only need one object of Bae’s to be able to find him in the new world. She can only take the shawl.

It is yellow wool, a little ragged and dirty from belonging to a young boy. Her husband knitted it himself. She feels the love that was woven into every fiber of it.

She cushions the chipped cup against the shawl and holds both objects in one hand. With her other hand, she draws out a single glove from the pocket of her gown. It is a magic glove, made of black velvet and her husband’s golden thread. As soon as it is on her hand, she is transported to the next room.

This is a room with no door. It can only be entered by using her husband’s magic. This is where he keeps things safe, including his secrets. This is where he stores the remains of his life before he had magic.

There is a wide bed, stuffed with straw. A rough-hewn farm table with a bench and pair of stools at either end. A spinning wheel wound with simple yarn instead of the gold her husband is famous for spinning. She looks over these furnishings with familiarity and with fondness. She has been in this room many times before.

Often enough to know where to find what she seeks.

A small table serves the function of a desk. It is piled high with papers, mostly drawings. Rumple’s first wife drew pictures of their son when he was a baby. And when the boy had grown older, he had developed the same talent.

Her mental image of Baelfire comes from a sketch he made of himself: Wavy dark hair and steady dark eyes, a boy who has already suffered and struggled more than he ought to have, a boy who smiles rarely, but is rarely afraid. She would rather take that drawing than handle what lies on top of it.

The dagger that controls her husband is an evil thing, but he has made her the mistress of it. When he proposed, he gave her the dagger, and submitted to her all the power of the Dark One. Together, they have studied its magic, tested its limits. While she does enjoy having some authority over her beloved, the thought of anyone else using the dagger on him--or hurting him with it--is enough to make her blood boil.

She cannot allow that to happen. She cannot allow the dagger to fall into any hands but her own or Rumple’s. This is the only weapon that can hurt him. She will never allow him to be hurt. She holds the dagger to her chest, just like the shawl and the cup.

She takes off the magic glove and finds herself in the tower room where her husband does most of his work. He knew that he was leaving, so he has put away most of his potions and equipment.

He may never see these things again.

Tears burn in her eyes. Stumbling to his work table, she lets their things slip from her arms. Her satchel is up here, Rumple must have placed it in this room. He gave her this satchel, the last time they were separated. The last time she had to leave her home. It is brown leather, with a design of a red rose blooming among the thorns.

She sets the cup and the shawl inside the satchel. Then she takes the dagger and slashes the glove to shreds. Golden sparks and wine-red smoke emanate from the glove as magic destroys magic. Now she will never be able to enter the safest room again. But neither will anyone else.

Everything she needs to carry fits inside the satchel. She could probably fit the entire potions cabinet and her husband’s spinning wheel inside and never feel the weight of it on her shoulders.

Her mission is done, but she has no will to rest. Their bedroom is at the bottom of the stairs below this tower, but she cannot bring herself to go there now. She has never slept a full night in this castle without her husband, without at least expecting him to join her. Their marriage bed is large and luxurious. It will feel so empty without him. She cannot sleep there.

She wanders over to the window. A waning moon and hundreds of stars cast a soft glow over her husband’s spinning wheel. When he needs to think, he will spin straw into gold, working continuously from dawn until darkness. A day’s work fills up a bobbin of thread, and he has more bobbins than she could ever count. They mark centuries of pensive isolation. He starts every spinning day with one empty, and the work isn’t over until it’s full.

But when she looks at the flyer, a bobbin is already waiting there, half-filled up with gold thread.

For a moment, she is perplexed. It is unlike Rumple to leave a loose end. But then she smiles. She understands. Her husband has left her with a message. An unfilled bobbin means the day is not done. There is still more work to do.

They are not finished yet.

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic

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sterekchub · 4 years

Text

Feeder for Hire

Fat!Derek and feeder!Stiles Get Beached: Challenge Week Word Count: ~3000 Prompts: Captive/Captor Relationship, Size Pride, Too Fat for Things Read on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25550704 “You sure about this guy?”

For the last time, yes, Scott. I’ll text you his address and a photo and if you don’t hear from me -”

“ - by five in the morning, call the cops. I know the deal. You haven’t gone to anyone’s house in years. I thought you said no more?”

Stiles shrugged. “He’s hot as hell, we’ve done some video sessions before, and he pays…really well. A few nights a week with him and I can pay off this semester.”

“Have fun! Text me if anything…comes up.” Scott grinned, although Stiles knew he was still hesitant about how he made his income.

Stiles nodded, making sure he grabbed his keys, doubled checked he had his phone, the contract, and his preference lists in his pocket before leaving their dorm. Derek – although that could very well be a fake name – had met Stiles through a gainer website three years back, admitting he had followed Stiles’ page for awhile before messaging him. It had been a few months of exchanging back and forth conversations before Derek had asked about paid video sessions, and then in-person feedings. Scott was right, Stiles very rarely offered to do in session feedings, but Derek was a special case. Not only did he live only a few towns over, unlike most of the guys he dealt with, Derek was polite, almost embarrassed of his wants, tipped extremely well, and meshed well with Stiles. He had a snarky, quick wit and, from what Stiles had seen through a few pictures and fuzzy video screens, was exactly Stiles’ type.

Tall, dark, handsome, a wide bubble butt, thighs that rubbed together with each step, and a slightly furry pot-belly that was quickly becoming more of a blubbery gut as he passed three-hundred and fifty pounds, and kept going. Stiles has asked once if he had a goal weight. Derek admitted he didn’t know. He had already gained seventy-five pounds since he had first messaged Stiles.

Stiles had read through Derek’s profile a hundred times. He had requested short scenes, getting Derek through a stuffing, teasing and humiliating and forcing him to finish if needed. It was a little colder and more forceful than what Stiles usually liked to do with partners, but he wasn’t going to judge Derek for his interests.

1) Teasing and humiliation only. No praise. 2) Hitting/spanking/pain, okay. 3) I will provide the food. I expect to be forced to finish it all, by any means. 4) Funnel and tube feeding okay. 5) Tying down okay, rope or cloths only. 6) No blindfold. 7) You are not to let me come or touch myself until I’ve finished eating. 8) I will pay half up front, half when you leave. 9) Safe word: Triskelion

In return, Stiles provided a similar list, including his safe word, Scott. His were more focused on what he wouldn’t do, regardless of his clients’ request. It was a short list, mostly consisting of bodily fluids like spitting on clients, inflation, and serious pain. He had a feeling most would be a moot point with Derek, but he hadn’t felt the need to adjust his standard contract.

*******

Their second session went similarly to their first, minus the awkward introductions. Once again, Derek had set out the same spread of food on his table. Pan of alfredo pasta, chicken, blender full of gainer power and ice cream, and peanut butter brownies.

“You must really love pasta.”

“Highest calories.”

“Do you like it?”

Derek only shrugged.

“Do you cook? I don’t have an oven or anything in the dorm, but if you don’t mind me using your kitchen, I could come earlier and help – ”

“ – I order delivery.”

“That’s a crime, man. You have a brand-new kitchen! Stainless steel!”

“More work.”

“Is that why you don’t talk much? Too much work?”

That earned him something that was close to a smile. “You talk enough for both of us.”

“Guess it is hard to talk with all that food in your mouth, Big Guy.”

“Does it look like I’m eating?”

“You better fix that, then. I’m surprised a pig like you could hold back around all this food.”

That did it. Derek’s eyes darkened in arousal and he immediately sank into his chair and pulled the chicken closer towards him. Dutifully, Stiles pulled up a chair next to him, poking him in the stomach periodically and making remarks.

“Slowing down already? You only finished the chicken; I know you aren’t done yet.”

“You didn’t get that figure from moderation.”

“Jeans a little tight? Hold up that flabby gut for me and I’ll unbutton them. Wouldn’t want that to stop you from stuffing your face with even more…”

It was more natural with Derek. Stiles often had to revert to a script with other clients, repeating a few phrases he knew they wanted to hear. He did have to bite back his urge to praise Derek for his sizeable appetite, tell him how good he looked blissfully stuffed, panting and belching even as he reached for more. It was a shame Derek didn’t want to be worshipped or hand fed, treated softly like Stiles would have loved to do.

“Can’t – urp – too full.”

Stiles held up the half empty pitcher. “Drink it.”

Derek groaned and rest both hands on the side of his overstuffed stomach. “’m gonna pop.”

Stiles desperately wanted to slide his hands under Derek’s shirt and ease some of that fullness for him. It took a lot of self-control and mental reminders of Derek’s request to instead push down on the curve of his gut, eliciting a huge belch. As soon as he opened his mouth, Stiles tipped the contents of the pitcher slowly down’s Derek throat.

“See? Plenty of room.”

“No – urp- no more. URP.”

“Too bad.” Stiles told him, making sure Derek swallowed another mouthful before pulling the pitcher back slightly. “Should have thought about that before you finished all that food like a greedy hog.”

“ ‘S not my fault,” Derek panted, dutifully gulping down a few more mouthfuls.

“No?” Stiles knelt down besides Derek, slipping a hand under Derek’s paunch to palm his throbbing erection. “You haven’t been getting hard, thinking about how much you’ve been eating? How fat this is going to make you?”

“I – fuuuck. How much – urp- left?”

“Only a little bit. Why don’t you finish it off?”

Derek took the pitcher from Stiles, breathing heavily, clearly pushing himself to finish the little remaining.

“Getting too big for this,” Stiles told him, pinching his fleshly lower belly with one hand as he took his time jerking Derek off with his other. “Going to need both hands just to hold up all this blubber. Can you even get yourself off anymore? Or is your belly in the way?”

Derek came with a breathless moan, cut short by him cursing and stifling another belch. Stiles wished he could see Derek’s face in its entirety, but from his angle on the ground, the mountainous sphere blocked his view.

Grinning, Stiles got to his feet. “Knew you could finish it.”

He gave Derek a few minutes for his breathing to slow, then gestured at his swollen midsection. “Want help with that? I give amazing belly rubs, dude.”

“Don’t – urp- call me dude.”

“Is that a no?”

“Yes. Go home. I’ll send you the other half of your payment.”

Stiles nodded unhappily. “Fine. Text me if you’d like to schedule another session. Goodnight, Derek.”

He left, leaving Derek slumped uncomfortably in his chair, jean unbuttoned, come splattered on his lower belly.

*******

“Derek, sorry, hi! I’m here. Only…thirty minutes late. Shit, I’m sorry. The jeep was having problems starting and then it started raining….”

“I started eating without you.” Derek shrugged. “What was wrong with the jeep now?”

“Same thing. It’s an old car. It was pay for textbooks or pay for a new engine.” Derek looked guilty, like he was responsible for Stiles’ financial hardships, even though he was the main contributor to Stiles’ bank account, so Stiles added, “I’ll have it fixed next semester, probably.”

“If – if you ever need a ride or anything, you can borrow the Camaro.”

Stiles gaped at him. Derek was very protective of the car sitting in his driveway. Stiles had never seen a spot on it. He wasn’t even allowed to park the jeep anywhere near it because Derek was so afraid of it being damaged.

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I’ll have to get a, ah, roomier one, eventually.”

“Too much of a spare tire?” Stiles laughed, pressing himself against said belly so he could, just barely, reach behind Derek to grab handfuls of his ass. “Too much junk in the trunk?”

“Both. And if you’re done with the bad metaphors…. you’re soaking wet. Take off your clothes before you catch something,” Derek said gruffly. “You can borrow some of mine.”

Derek had a clear wet splotch on his shirt from where Stiles had leaned into him. Now that he was inside and less frantic about being late, Stiles realized he was shivering and dripping on Derek’s floor.

“Or we could both get out of these clothes and go upstairs.”

“That – yeah. Or that.”

It wasn’t what they usually did. Derek had rarely seen Stiles undressed, and normally Derek was too full to do much of anything in the bedroom. Stiles was happy to do all of the work, relishing the feeling of Derek’s belly resting against his back or riding Derek, watching his breasts and belly wobble. He frequently had to remind himself that Derek was a client, who requested teasing, not admiration and compliments, no matter how badly Stiles wanted to give them.

The contrast between them was even more apparent when they were together in the bedroom. Stiles threw his wet clothes by the doorway and eagerly got Derek out of his own. Pressed up against Derek, he had the chance to really appreciate how massive the other man was. Stiles’ leaned against him to press their lips together and Derek’s waistline spread out to either side of him.

“It’s official. Can’t wrap my arms around you anymore.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Nope. You’re that fat.”

Derek pushed him down on the bed. “Not to fat to fuck you.”

“Yet,” breathed Stiles, grabbing Derek’s side rolls as he was pinned to the bed by Derek’s lard. Derek had himself propped up with both arms. His doughy belly still hung low enough to press against Stiles, but it kept his weight from being completely crushing. “Keep gorging yourself and you will be.”

“Think so?”

“It’d be a good look for you. Stuffed, too fat to get out of bed, laying there like a beached whale and letting me do all the work.”

“Mhmn. You’d be up to that?”

“I’d be my favorite job,” Stiles told him honestly. “How long do you think, Der? Ten years? Five? I’ve seen all the ice cream in your fridge and the fast food wrappers the trash. Immobility isn’t that far away.”

“’S your fault.” He moved one hand to smack his gut, watching it quiver. “Getting harder to jerk off with all this in the way.”

“Awww, no wonder you need me. Your belly weighs more than me. Gonna be too much effort to try and find your dick buried in all that flab.”

“Fuck,” Derek moaned, rutting against Stiles. Beads of sweat were forming on Derek’s forehead from the exertion of holding himself up. Stiles swatted at his arm and tried to wiggle out from under him. The heavier man got the hint and collapsed on the bed next to Stiles, trying to catch his breath.

“Still up to pounding me into the mattress?”

“Give me…a minute.”

“Take all the time you need. Want me to bring the rest of your dinner up first?”

“…yes.”

******* Derek was dressed in a suit when he answered the door for Stiles. It was clearly an expensive piece, tailored to a man a few pounds smaller. The pants were stretched thin over Derek’s thighs and the jacket button was equally as stretched.

“Hey, Derek! That suit is a good look.”

“Work ran late,” Derek told him gruffly. “I didn’t have time to order the food. I’ll pay you for the extra time.”

Stiles waved a hand. “No worries. Rough day at work?”

“Yes.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Derek looked unsure. Stiles took a step forward and unbuttoned his jacket, helping Derek shrug if off, then started on his shirt buttons. After a few seconds, Derek burst out, “I hate being the asshole boss! I know – I know what they say about me behind my back. But they don’t understand! A missed deadline means we all look bad and with talks of layoffs and restructuring, we can’t afford any mistakes.”

“They’ll warm up to you. You’re secretly as soft as you look.”

“You don’t know me, Stiles,” Derek said tiredly.

“I know enough. You’re a good guy. Why don’t you relax? Take a bath, change, and I’ll order food. Sounds like you need chocolate. If you like chocolate.”

“What?”

“Chocolate. For bad days? Like chocolate cake? Or ice cream?"

“It’s been awhile since I had either. I was going to order the usual.”

Stiles shook his head. “Trust me, if you’re upset, you’re going to feel awful if you stuff yourself. I had something else in mind, if it’s okay.”

Derek looked hesitant.

“I was thinking, you eat your weight in desserts while I eat you out?”

“Let’s- yeah. We can do that.”

“Then get that fat ass in the shower,” Stiles laughed, “and I’ll bring the food upstairs when it arrives.”

******* Stiles had been hesitant since he walked in the door. Derek had been less talkative than usual, admitting only he stopped for fast food on his way home from work, before he had started on their nightly feast.

“Eating without me?”

“Ran into my ex,” Derek admitted through a mouthful of food. “Said a few…choice words about my weight.”

“So you went into McDonalds to spite her?”

“She’s a bitch.”

Stiles laughed uncomfortably. Derek was acting nonchalant, but still seemed upset. “Guess so. Look on her face must have been priceless.”

“Can’t have anyone thinking I got to be this size on accident.”

“The way you eat? I doubt anyone thinks that. How much did you order at McDonalds?”

“Twenty-piece nugget, double cheeseburger, milkshakes, two large fries.”

“Jeeze. Still think you can finish all this?” He saw Derek struggling more than usual to take bite after bite. Derek took a bite and then gagged; hand clamped over his mouth like he was going to be sick. “Are you okay?”

Derek took a few seconds, hand still clamped over his mouth, before swallowing and nodding weakly. “I’m fine. Must’ve swallowed too fast.”

“Maybe you should take a break for a little?”

“No,” Derek told him firmly, stabbing his fork back into the chicken, “I’m fine.”

Stiles could tell he wasn’t. His stomach was stretched out further than Stiles has ever seen, stretch marks an angry red. Derek had to be in pain. His arm was wavering, breath coming in shallow pants, each burp looking like it would result in a total upheaval of his entire meal. Stiles wasn’t sure he could sit and watch Derek force himself bite by bite to finish the sizeable amount of food left.

“Scott,” Stiles gasped out, “Derek, Scott.”

Derek immediately froze. “Fuck, are you – is it a panic attack? What…urp- can I do?”

“No. No. I’m fine. It’s – I can’t watch you do this.”

“You haven’t had a problem with it before.”

“Usually you’re enjoying.”

“I can – urp – keep going.”

“You almost threw up. Tell me you didn’t, Derek.”

“Jus’ need a few minutes….”

“No.” Stiles slid the food a few inches away. Derek reached forward, belly grumbling audibly as he groaned in pain, and fell back into his chair, glaring at Stiles.

“Then you can go. I’ll pay you for the full session.”

“Dude, no way I’m leaving you like this.”

“Mmpppfh. S’fine.”

“No, it isn’t. Think you can make it upstairs?”

Derek made it, but it was a laborious task. Stiles helped him slowly to his feet and kept a steading hand on the small of Derek’s back as he waddled up the stairs, taking one step by a time in agonizingly slow steps, trying not to jostle his overstuffed middle weighing him down. He finally made it and sunk with a groan of relief on the bed.

Stiles bent down and pulled off Derek’s shoes and socks. “Stand up, Big Guy. You’ll be more comfortable with less clothes.”

“Ngggh.”

“Come on,” Stiles laughed, pinching his inner thigh, “only a few seconds and you can lay back down.”

Derek reluctantly got to his feet so Stiles could pull his jeans down around his ankles while Derek tugged off his shirt. As soon as it was done, he fell back on the bed.

“’M too full to do anything.”

“No sex tonight,” Stiles promised. “This might be better.”

He rubbed circles over the top of Derek’s gut, which was so taut with food it had lost its usual softness. Occasionally, he would stop to trace over the multitude of stretchmarks, or press a little bit harder, massaging away the soreness. Eventually, Derek’s heavy, labored breathing, belches and groans fell away to snoring and snuffling.

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harryshollands · 5 years

Text

HERE FOR YOU ( T.H )

Requested: Nope!

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: A few months after your break up with Tom, you run into his brothers at the grocery store. Paddy manages to convince you to come to his football game by bringing up the pinky promise you’d made almost a year ago.

A/N: Let me know if you want a part two! I really really love writing imagines that involve Paddy and Y/N being adorable. This is no exception. Feel free to send me requests for the Hollands + Haz!

Masterlist! Send a Request!

Word Count: 2.3k

You were doing good. You were drinking your water, you were getting the right amount of sleep and your skin was pretty clear.

That was the overall definition of good, right?

But by your definition, your heart was hurting and you couldn’t bring yourself to chuck out all of the crap that your ex-boyfriend had left you with. It sucked. You’d given five years of your life to Tom Holland and now you had to find yourself once again. Your routine had always revolved around Tom. When you’re dating a movie star you take what you can get.

During your post-breakup slump, you’d managed to eat all of your junk food and now you needed to stock up in general, because once you ran out of sweet stuff you managed to eat all of your cereal.

So, here you were, in the middle of Tesco’s with a shopping cart full of cereal, ice cream, frozen meals and milk, trying to choose between two different types of Oreos.

“Y/N?”

You spun around, glancing at the person who had called your name before breaking out into a grin.

“Hey there, kiddo” You joked as Paddy flung himself into your arms, squeezing you tightly as if you were about to disappear.

“Paddy! Jesus, where are you- oh! Y/N! Hi!” Sam was rushing after his sibling, coming to a halt as he saw Paddy wrapped around you.

“Hiya” You laughed awkwardly, setting Paddy back on his feet as your finger’s gripped your shopping cart in an attempt to calm your nerves.

“I made it to the finals” Paddy blurted, a grin on his face as he watched your own light up.

“I knew you would! Congrats, Paddy! That’s so cool” You congratulated, giving him a high five as Sam glanced around the isle awkwardly.

You and Sam had been the closest. You had considered him your best friend, so when Tom had ended everything with no warning you both snapped apart.

“Can you come?”

“Huh?”

“Can you come to the game? You’re always there and we miss you” Paddy clarified, a hopeful look painted on his face paired with his best puppy dog eyes.

Your face fell slightly, but you quickly masked t with a small smile.

“I miss you guys, too, but I can’t just turn up, Padster. It’s different now” You told him softly, attempting to let him down easy before his older brother piped up.

“You should come. You’ve always been the only one who can stop Mum from screaming at people on the other team. Dad made her stay home at the last game” Sam admitted, trying not to laugh at the memory.

“I don’t know, you guys-”

“Tom is still filming in Italy so you won’t have to see him. Pleaaase, Y/N? You promised to be at all of my big football games” Paddy cut you off causing Sam to choke on a laugh at his little brother pulling out the promise card.

Everyone knew that you kept your promises, and so, reluctantly you nodded your head, caving in to the youngest Holland’s puppy dog eyes and fake pout.

“Yes! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Paddy cheered, hugging you before rushing out of the aisle in search of Harry who had been flirting with an employee in the freezer section.

“I think you made his day” Sam joked as he gave you a grin, you smiled back awkwardly before nodding.

“He definitely made mine” You mutter softly causing Sam to frown.

“I’ll text you the details for the game. Maybe we could get lunch beforehand? It’s been really weird without you” Your eyes lit up at the thought of hanging out with your best friend again.

“Righty-o, my number is still the same.” You agree, a goofy grin your face matching Sam’s.

“I’ll leave you to your big Oreo decision. Let me know who wins, yeah?”

And that was when you knew that you were going to be okay. With or without Tom, you were going to get back on track and you weren’t going to let him stop your friendship with Sam just because of a break-up.

“I’m stuffed” You laughed as you split the check for lunch with the Holland family. Harry let out a groan of agreement as Nikki and Dom tried to persuade you to let them pay for your meal.

“Really, I can pay. You guys don’t have to pay for me when we go out anymore” You stated, your tone soft but firm and you saw Nikki’s face drop. The reality of the break up was back in her mind.

She’d loved you. You were always a daughter to her, and she really thought that one day you’d be her daughter-in-law.

“I want to” She replied, equally as firm as she squeezed your hand, pressing a kiss to Paddy’s forehead and walking over to the counter.

Sam gave you a grin from beside you and by the time his mother had come back, it was time to pile into the minivan and head to Paddy’s game.

“He’s got this” You muttered to Nikki as she sat beside you, passing her camera to Harry for photos.

“I don’t trust those punks on the other team. Broke poor Toby’s ankle last year, you remember how distraught Paddy was for his friend? Disgusting. Should be banned” The woman grumbled causing you to giggle as the kids poured out onto the field.

You were always the calm one at these games. It was always you. But not today.

You decided to stand up and cheer.

Sam’s eyes were wide and Dom watched in amusement.

“You’ve got this, Paddy!” You shouted as the game began, Nikki grinning and standing up with you.

It didn’t feel like it used to. It felt better, you felt at ease and happy.

Harry was laughing to himself as he recorded the two of you screaming encouragement at his brother, not thinking twice before posting it on his Instagram story.

Nikki was laughing loudly and holding you close to her, almost like she was scared that you would slip away from her and her family again. But you wouldn't. Nothing could make you leave them.

Tom was whining as Harrison drove carefully through the crowded parking lot at the football field.

“Just get out, you div. Walk over there while I find a park” Haz grumbled, eyes squinted as he tried to find a small spot for his car.

“Good idea. Good luck!” Tom called to his best friend as he rushed out of the small Prius, slamming the door behind him.

It felt weird being back in London so soon after his break up. He’d pretty much left the day after he’d called it quits with you due to filming. It felt abnormal.

The brit weaved his way through the crowds, looking for a glance of his family, but his eyes landed on you. Cheering next to his mom whilst his family laughed along.

Tom felt like he couldn't breathe.

Seeing you again was like a kick to the gut.

You were with his family.

Not that he forbid them from seeing you, but he thought that you’d all go your own ways considering he broke up with you.

It really was because of the distance. It sucked. He’d let some things that he didn’t mean slip out, too, and then you cried and broke down whilst he wheeled his suitcase out the front door, not looking back.

Before he even knew what he was doing, his feet were carrying him towards his family.

Harry was the first to spot him.

“Look at what the cat dragged in!” He laughed as he pulled his older brother into a hug. Tom laughed along with him before hugging Sam and his dad.

His mom had her hands over her mouth in shock. She hadn’t expected him to be home for another three months. You, on the other hand, were trying not to frown at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

Nikki glanced at you before pulling her eldest son into a hug and turning back to the game, screaming tactics at her son and his teammates.

“Hi, love” Tom greeted you softly, his eyes drinking you in.

He didn’t think that you could have changed much but he was wrong.

You looked stronger. You oozed capability.

“Tom.” You nod back before shrieking as Paddy scored a goal.

“GOOD JOB, PADDY!” you screamed causing Tom to jump a little.

Paddy had won. Everyone was ecstatic, except for Paddy. You’d all gone for celebratory ice cream and Paddy was quiet the whole time.

“Why are you back?” Paddy asked Tom suddenly, the whole group falling silent. Tom frowned, seeing the grumpy appearance his little brother was maintaining.

“I wanted to see your game, Pads, what do you mean?” He questioned feeling slightly dejected as Paddy frowned at his reply.

“It took me two months to see Y/N/N and get her to come to the game. I don’t want her to go away because you’re here” Paddy replied bluntly, looking between his brother and you.

You narrowed your eyes at the child lovingly, shaking your head.

“Padster, I would’ve come anyway. I’m really happy to be here, but your brother came all this way for you and I think he’s feeling a little left out. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon but Tom is. Catch up with him while you can” You told the kid, and he listened.

Tom looked at you in awe as his brother finally warmed up to him again.

God, he missed you.

“But I don’t want you to go again” Paddy mumbled causing your heart to shatter again.

“Hey now. I’m here right now, okay? And that’s what counts. Don’t blame your brother. Breakups are a two-way street” You console, pressing a kiss to Paddy’s forehead before motioning to Tom.

“Now go and hug him”.

The whole table was back in their bustle of a conversation, Paddy and Tom getting along marvellously and you and Sam cackling about Harry’s blurry photos from using the wrong lens.

“So you guys are still close, huh?” Tom asked you eventually. You glanced at him with a grimace on your face.

“No. I haven’t seen them in a few months. I’m only here for today”

Tom grinned and you already knew what he was thinking.

“I’m not here for you. I’m here for Paddy”.

You glanced around the table, looking at the faces that were permanently ingrained in your memory. It was time for you to go and let them be, you thought to yourself. You leant across the table to Nikki, a small smile playing at your lips.

“I think I’m going to head out now” You inform her, trying not to linger on the way that her smile turned sad.

“Are you sure? You could always crash at our house, sweetheart. You always have a home with us” The mother of four offered, trying not to sound desperate. You shook your head, playing with your fingers.

“No thank you, I think I’m going to call it a night” You whisper back before pushing your chair back, gaining the attention of all of the family at your table.

You cleared your throat and smiled awkwardly,

“I’m going to head home now. It was nice seeing you all again” You address the table, a sad smile on your lips as Paddy rushes over to you.

“Do you have to? We can make Tom go? Will you stay then?”

“Pads, you can’t boot your brother out” You laugh lightly, pulling him into a hug and smoothing his hair down.

“I’ll see you guys around eventually, yeah?” You mutter, pressing a quick kiss to the youngest Holland’s temple bone.

One by one, the family stands up and hugs you before sitting down once again. Tom doesn’t know what to do with himself as he says goodbye.

“I’ll see you around, Tom”.

The young adult watched as you walked out of the parlour, his eyes following you until you were out of sight.

Nikki looked at him with a frown, shaking her head at her oldest son.

“Why did you have to let her go again? It hurts every time, Tom. Every godforsaken time” The woman sniffled, leaning her head on Sam’s shoulder and grabbing napkins to dab at her tears.

Tom looked at his mother, jaw slack and completely flabbergasted at his family’s drop in mood. They were all less lively than they had been only moments ago.

“I didn’t- she wanted to leave. I’m confused.” Tom admitted, his eyebrows furrowing as his mother continued to sniffle.

“I haven’t seen her since you left her, Thomas. I loved that girl like she was my own. She would walk in the other direction if she saw us in public. Can’t even look at us, Tom. I thought that one day we’d be sitting in a church watching you marry her and now all I have is a photo of her from Christmas last year and the birthday present she got me. Today was the first time we’ve seen her since everything happened and I saw the way you looked at her as soon as you saw her with us. I thought that maybe- just maybe you would stop her, talk to her- something! Anything! But you didn't and it’s like I just lost a child all over again.” Nikki ranted, shaking her head and standing up from the table, brushing off her husband’s attempt to comfort her by grabbing her hand.

“I’m glad you’re home, darling, but I wish that it was different.”

And with that, Nikki paid for their ice creams and told Dom that she’d see them all at home, leaving Tom and the rest of their family in silence.

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deanwinchestermydaddy · 4 years

Text

TO SEE YOU AGAIN (DEAN WINCHESTER STORY) PART. 1

Your POV:

Since I was pretty young I knew about the Supernatural things, while other kids thought those were just tails and I knew that they weren't.

Now I was in a small town looking over a case that seems to be just some 'salt and burn', something easy. I arrived at the crime scene and showed my fake batch to the officers so they will let me go around to confirm my suspicions of being a revengeful ghost. I started to look around until one of the officers called me, "Agent Wilson" he said and I turn around to see two guys dressed on some suits one was taller than the other. The one with shorter hair smiled at me like if he was in trance or something while his partner pushed him slightly, "I'm Agent Signer and this is my partner Agent Wanek" the tall one said extending his hand which I shook and smile, "Agent Wilson" I said as I went to shake the other guy hand I felt a little shock wave hit me as our fingers touched. It was a weird feeling and I noticed that the guy felt it too, but I had to continue and finish this case to go to another town to continue with another hunt.

Later I needed to rest and go later to the house to get rid off the ghost. I arrived to a local Motel on your black 1964 Pontiac GTO. It was still early for me to go to the house and I decided to go to the local bar, " what can I get you beautiful?" the bartender said and I smiled, "just a beer please" I said and just in a couple of minutes he handed me the beer. Suddenly the door open revealing two men entering the bar I didn't pay that much attention cause I was focused on my papers. With the corner of my eyes, I saw them sat on one of the booths.

Dean's POV:

On the booths Sammy and I sat down, when we arrived to the bar I saw a beautiful black 1964 Pontiac Gto and I started to wonder who was the driver of it. "I'm telling you the driver of that car has really good taste on them, and probably if is a girl is really sexy" I said after the waitress left to get our beers, "yeah, Dean. Don't you think that the Agent that as there at the scene was suspicious?" Sam asked and I had my thought somewhere else specifically with the other Agent that touched my hand, "not suspicious but very sexy" I said just remembering her.

"can I get you something else?" the waitress said and I looked at her, "I will let you know sweetheart," I said with a wink, she stayed a little more until someone called her, "excuse me can I get another beer" the person said and I look up to see who it was and by my surprise I meet those beautiful hazel eyes that I got lost in the morning. I guess I was staring at her for too long as she smiled at me and them Sam moved me so I could stop looking at her, "you're looking like creep" Sam said, "what?" I said looking at him, "I think I'm heading back to the motel to do more research before we go to the house" he said announcing and I just nodded still looking at that girl that caused a weird sensation on me.

Sammy was gone and I saw that she continue to look over some papers so I decided to join her by sitting next to her on the stool, as I was walking towards the bar some guy approached and grabbed her ass which made my blood boil and I started to walk faster but before I could react she grabbed the guy by the collar and pointed her gun to his junk, " I dare you to that again asshole and I'ma make sure you cannot have any children anymore" she said and pushed him to the floor, I swear that was so fucking hot.

" Is this seat taken?" I asked and she nodded, "so we see each other again Agent Wanek"she said as she turn to me with a smile and I felt like I turned into jelly, "well I guess I’m lucky tonight," I said with a wink and she laugh, "so what’s your name Agent?" she said turning completely to me and resting her elbow on the counter, "Dean and yours sweetheart?" i said and she took a gulp from her beer before speaking, "Y/n" she said and I whisper her name so see how it felt, "beautiful name for a beautiful girl" I said trying my best to be smooth. There was something about her that caused me to get nervous. We spent quite a time there just talking, she was really easy going and funny and she laugh at my stupid jokes and it was a genuine laugh that I was loving more each second I listen to it.

Both walked out of the bar, "so do you think I can get your number?" I said and she smiled, "only if we see each other again Dean"she said walking to the parking but not before giving me a kiss on the cheek, "deal" I said and I started to walk to wards baby with a smile that no one could take from me.

I arrived at the motel and went to find Sam doing research, "it took you long" he said and I just chuckle, "we are leaving on an hour Sammy, so get ready"I said as I plopped down on the bed smiling at the ceiling.

Your POV:

I changed from my FBI outfit to my normal clothing that consisted of some boots, jeans, a shirt and a leather jacket. Arriving at the house I saw her a beautiful Impala from 1967. 'The guy that drives that car most be really sexy' I thought. I gather my stuff from the trunk of my baby boy, I enter from the back which I left open so when I enter would be easy for me. I was in the kitchen when I heard noises so I instantly grabbed my shotgun with salt, I walked into the living room with my gun aiming everywhere in case the ghost appear or some else. I saw a tall figure walking on the living room but giving me his back, I saw that he had headphones so I knew i had advantage over him.

He turn at the moment when I was going to tackle him so when I did I ended up straddling his legs and used my shotgun to immobilize him, "who are you and what do you want in here?" you said and he looked shock, "y/n?" he said and I recognized him, "Dean, what are you doing here?" I asked as I took my gun away from him, but I was still on top of him, "I have the same question for you... wait are you a hunter?" he said and you nodded, "yes I am and I supposed you are one and that your "partner" too"you said and some cleared his throat and both you and Dean look up to see the tall man. I look down and saw that I was still on top of him, "Umm... sorry"I said getting up, "no problem sweetheart" he said and the other guy rolled his eyes, "I'm Sam" the tallest one said and you smiled at him and shook his hand, "y/n" I said.

Suddenly something started to make a lot of noise and Dean looked his hands where he had a walk-man, "is that a Walkman?"Sam asked and both looked at Dean, "It's an EMF meter. It reads electromagnetic frequencies" Dean explained, "Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted up old walk-man?"Sam said and you look back at Dean waiting fro his answer, "'Cause that's what I made it out of"he answer proudly, "i like it, that is really creative"I said with a smile.

It was later and I and the 2 brothers were coming back to the motel after we finished the job. Me and Dean stayed out with our baby's, "great car you got there"he said, "thanks I take a lot of care of my baby boy. She's really great too I can tell you take care of her" I said patting my baby boy and sitting on the hood and then and got closer to me and I felt my heartbeat go faster, "yeah I do, so Umm... do you... i mean of course you do.... Umm have someone to go home to?" he said, "nope, not even a dog or fish, is just me and my baby boy" I said and he smiled.

"I gotta go and rest I'm kind of tired from the hunt" I said and he kind of frowned, "oh okay. Goodnight y/n"he said and I got off my car and both walked together to the rooms that ended up being next to each other, "goodnight Dean" I said with a smile as he started to walk to him room, "Dean?" I said and he turn and looked at me, who was now behind him biting my bottom lip, "yes y/n"he said so sweetly and I grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, it was like his lips were molded to fit perfectly on mine. He kissed me back with even more passion and I felt like I was melting each second that we continue kissing, I run my hands through his short hair and he pulled e closer to him. We finally broke the kiss and both were panting cause of the lack of breath, I slipped on his hands some paper and he looked at me weirdly, "remember what I told you if I see you again?"I said and he opened and smile seeing my phone number.

" I keep my promises Winchester" I said as I walked to my room and he stayed there just smiling.

Dean's POV:

I started to fist pump the air I got her number and a kiss from her, "I’m a lucky bastard" I said as I walked in and Sam looked at me, "I got her number Sammy! I got it!" I said and jumped onto the bed, "that was all the fuzz about"Sam said trying to not laugh at my excitement, "just let me be happy for a moment okay" I said closing my eyes and picture y/n, "jerk"Sam said and I didn't even look at him, "bitch" I said and went back to picturing Y/n.

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn #reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester story

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the-angry-pixie · 4 years

Text

camboy AU... but make it romantic

Camboy Bill AU feat. the OT7.

- basic stuff really

- Bill is a camboy (billoncam) on those websites that I don’t know enough about to be able to give a name.

- and he does sessions every few days in private chatrooms

- mostly solo stuff - either a vibrator or dildo in his ass whilst jacking it to the camera

- his fans love him because he is really chatty and responsive. and when he gets really turned on, he stutters. he always moans and thanks the person when someone sends him a tip - its like the tip button is directly connected to his vibrator, the way he moans every time it *dings*

- he has regulars. people who always seem to tune in and leave lots of tips. he comes to recognise their usernames.

- “welcome mikey-mike. i hope you’re having a good week.”

- “its good to see you again bigdickrich, what filthy things are you gonna say to me today?”

- stuff like that.

- he holds competitions among viewers - whoever gives him the most tips in a session gets to choose a name for him to call out when he cums

- as a result billoncam ends up moaning out “oh fuck carsforeddie! oh fuck you feel so good carsforeddie! oh fuck OH FUCK!” a lot.

- like previously stated, he’s known for his highly interactive solo stuff but every now and then his audience gets a guest appearance from other people. it always seems to be the same guys but we never get to see their faces

- one has lovely golden skin that matches his golden curls that Bill loves to grab onto when he’s fucking him

- the other is this buff dude with dark blonde body hair that makes the most delicious sounds when he’s railing Bill

- thats right, billoncam be versatile as fuck

- even more versatile than first anticipated because one time during a session Bill is holding a photo on his phone up to show the camera and he accidentally swipes to the next photo which is of some redhead woman lying on a bed in lingerie

- the comment section goes wild and Bill is like “oh fuck, oh fuck you weren’t meant to see that, ah ha ha ha lets forget that happened pls” and he goes on with the session. trying to ignore all the questions hounding him about who the fuck that was and why was she on his bed??

- two days later when billoncam is next scheduled to cam it is immediately obvious that things are very different when the session starts on a shot of Bill sitting fully-clothed talking straight to camera

- “thanks for tuning in everyone. I just felt I wanted to do something a bit different today. There’s been lots of discussion and questions about what happened the other day and I’ve thought about it a lot and have decided that I would like to be honest with you. This is a part of who I am and I don’t want to feel ashamed of that. So the truth is... I’m bisexual. And this...”

- Bill holds up his phone showing a photo of Bill and the redhead from the lingerie photo hugging each other and smiling giddily at the camera

- “... this is Bev. She’s my girlfriend.”

- again, the comment section goes wild. Obviously Bill has been camming himself on a website for gay men and well... gays can still be mean and weird sometimes when it comes to bisexuality.

- “I know. I know. It’s not what you’ve come to expect from me. I’m sorry if you’re offended or something. Well actually I’m not sorry at all. I would never be sorry for being in love with Bev. She’s my rock. We’ve been together for so long and she means the world to me. And the only reason I’m showing her face on here is because she’s given me full permission. In fact she has her own camming channel. Which I can link you to if there are any fellow bi’s out there.”

- Because the internet is the internet, Bill notices he’s losing viewers quickly, but he’s kind of happy to note that some of his regulars are among the ones being super supportive

- sitonthis: you’re not really gay. get the fuckk outta here!

mikey-mike: thanks for being honest with us Bill. I’m bi too and some people on here need to be quiet and stop being rude.

erotic-cum-on-my-hole: where’s the dick??

bigdickrich: daaaaaaaaaaamn Bill. she’s fuckign hot! gimme dat link please >______>

br000ny: sick of these bi s trickin on us. im out.

carsforeddie: YO EVERYONE NEEDS TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE BILL ALOONE!@! WHO WOULDN’T WANT TO DATE BILL?! HE’S FUCKING GORGEOUS AND PERFECT!! I SWEAR TO GOD YOU ALL NEED TO MEET ME IN THE PARKING LOT RIGHT THE FUCK NNOW!!e@!

- but it doesn’t stop there. Bill has more to tell. He doesn’t get naked at all that session. But he does come clean about being polyamorous. Apparently Bill and Bev were together for years before she started dating Ben. Who then eventually started dating Bill as well (mystery solved on who buff dude is). And then a little while after that Bill started dating Stan who also began dating everyone else eventually (mystery number two solved on who golden curls is)

- of course to respect privacy Bill doesn’t give names or photos for those two (they’re not into camming and only ever fuck Bill on cam as a favour cause they know Bill loves it so much). But he does wax poetic for a further half an hour on just how much he loves all his partners and then unexpectedly signs off.

- billoncam disappears for awhile. his sessions just suddenly stop. his fans reckon its probably got to do with the negative response he got to coming out as bi.

- they try to reach out to him on his social media but never with any luck. its funny, billoncam’s sessions have weirdly become a bit of community thing. its strange. the regulars all kind of know each other and it feels wrong to not be coming all together (pun not intended) a few times a week on Bill’s channel. but whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore because it seems billoncam is no more. he’s been scared away.

- struggling radio personality Richie Tozier is definitely not expecting to run into Bill aka. billoncam in a random Los Angeles Starbucks one day. But he does. Thats him. That’s totally fucking him. The only way Richie could be more sure is if Bill whipped his junk out in the middle of this cafe.

- Richie is so stunned he can’t even think what to say. How to approach this guy that he has been jacking off to for the last year or so.

- He ends up chasing Bill down the street and kind of pouncing on him.

- Bill is understandably wary at first. But of course he’s kind of charmed by this nervous motormouth with his ridiculously syrupy-looking frappuccino concoction. Its strange how familiar he seems. He almost whispers the name to himself just as Richie practically yells “Oh by the way. I’m bigdickrich. Did I mention that? I might have forgotten to mention that. Fuck!”

- And well, a week or two later... billoncam makes a comeback suddenly.

- And he’s got a companion. A companion who is showing his face. Bill’s regulars know they definitely haven’t seen this guy (or his body) before but they don’t mind at all since the session is so much more intense because they can see both participants for once. And this new guy is very cute. In a hairy, gangly, bedraggled kind of way.

- Bill introduces the guy as his new friend. He says his new friend convinced him to come back online. And his new friend even gave permission for their first time together to be filmed live.

- New Friend’s eyebrows wiggle at the camera behind his thick dark-framed glasses

- this sends a thrill through the audience obviously. such an intimate thing that theyre witnessing. New Friend doesnt seem to mind though. In fact he seems to lap up the attention and is very willing to take suggestions from the audience of just what he should do to Bill.

- the vibrator and dildo remain untouched on the bed that day.

- and its right at the end, still panting and sweating and coming down from their highs that Bill mentions that his New Friend is a previous audience member.

- “some of you might recognise the username. This is bigdickrich. Sooo... I guess we now know he wasn’t exaggerating with that name ha ha” to which Richie just grins at the camera holding his hands up under his chin.

- the comment section goes BONKERS!

- carsforeddie: THAT ANNOYING CRUDE SON OF A BITCH!! WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS THE UNIVERSE SO UNFAIR! FUCK!”

mikey-mike: good for you bigdickrich. you’re a real lucky guy.

twinksfordays: i want to choke on bigdickrich’s cock

carsforeddie: HOW?! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! EW I JUST JACKED IT TO THAT ASSHOLE! FUCK I NEED TO SHOWER”

- Bill and Richie giggle and converse with the commenters for awhile and then sign off.

- billoncam returns to regularly camming again. much the way he was before. mostly solo. though sometimes with guest stars. and Richie becomes a more and more frequent feature. He’s the only one (besides Bev popping in now and then) who shows his face.

- and then, billoncam hits 100,000 subscribers

- and Bill. Well he has to make it special right? So he auctions himself off. There has to be some careful wording and labelling so that he can’t be done for prostitution but... essentially Bill auctions off the chance for him to travel and spend the night with the highest bidder.

- of course carsforeddie is not going to let this opportunity slide by him. He’s a successful businessman. He might only be 25 but he’s got money to burn and he’s been loving lusting after billoncam for a LONG TIME

- its undisclosed just how much Eddie Kaspbrak, luxury car rental business owner ends up paying for billoncam to fly to New York and spend the night with him - for legal reasons obviously. And no, Eddie does not give permission for the deed to be filmed.

- But! Its perfectly legal to say that the 2nd time Bill fucks Eddie - the 3rd, the 4th, the 5th and the 6th and all the times that follow - are done completely for free!

- Ben jokes to Richie privately about them going to need to move into a bigger house if Bill keeps adding people to this relationship.

- It becomes less of a joke and more of a reality as Eddie moves permanently to Los Angeles 6 months (and lots of trips to LA) later.

- And thats it. Theyre nearly there. There’s just one more thing missing. One more piece to the puzzle. Bill doesn’t know why he feels this way. He just does.

- Luckily Mike Hanlon (aka as mikey-mike) has been unknowingly working away on this very thing for months. Not that he would have dared to assume that anything would happen when he slid into billoncam’s DM’s 18 months ago.

- He’s just a country boy from bumfuck nowhere. There’s no reality in this universe where he and the likes of billoncam would ever cross paths. But he enjoys talking to him. They have a lot of laughs. And Bill is surprisingly sweet and very well spoken. They like a lot of the same things. The same literature, the same sports teams. Bill is always asking after the animals on Mike’s family’s farm. Mike wishes he could get to know him better.

- Bill wants the same thing. He’d give anything to meet the sweet-souled farmboy from Maine who brightens Bill’s day whenever he gets a new message from him. I mean, it helps that he’s also gorgeous with the most wonderful smile, but thats beside the point.

- Bill ends up putting his money where his mouth is. Just enough to buy a return plane ticket to LA, so that Mike can come visit him, and cover the cost of a hotel room (ya know, in case he doesn’t want to stay with Bill and the rest of them. Bill would never want to make him uncomfortable).

- Needless to say Mike fits right into the family almost immediately.

- its a couple of months later and billoncam still exists, but its like a relic now. Bill pours all his creative energy into his new channel “the-lucky-seven”. Its a channel shared by everyone and its outrageously popular. Sure there are still a few individuals who are too shy or anxious to show their faces but the audience doesn’t seem to care. There’s so much variety to be found on the channel. Different combinations of people doing a live cam nearly every second day.

- they’re all unapologetic, they all love each other, and they don’t mind sharing it with the world.

- :) :) :) :) B) :) :)

----

Did I really just write a romance story about camming? Why yes, I think I did. Ha Ha. Hope you enjoyed. :)

#sorry - you were probably expecting more smut #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#i do what i can #i was inspired and so i HCed #poly losers club #the losers club #pixie writes #pixie headcanons #IT movie #notsfw

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zazu75 · 3 years

Text

Closer

Eko and Ray belong to @thethird-eye

The night sucked. The whole week sucked, that whole day sucked, but this night sucked the most.

Ray sat in the hotel bar and stared daggers at his nonalcoholic drink. He didn’t know why he let his coworkers drag him in here, especially since they all left for the casino soon after. He didn’t want to go there, he wanted to stay in his room and zone out on his phone. But he was here and got left behind and if he hadn’t paid for his overpriced drink, he would have left already.

At least the place didn’t smell like alcohol.

The doors of the hotel’s event room suddenly opened. Said room was across from the bar, so Ray had a front row seat to watch the people leaving. They were all dressed in fancy suits and evening gowns and Ray suspected that it was a wedding party. Then the bride and groom came out and confirmed it.

The wedding party crowded into the bar, and suddenly Ray couldn’t care enough about his drink. He shoved it away and quickly made his escape. He headed to the hotel elevators to get back up to his room, but the bride was there with some of her bridal party. So he quickly swiveled around and headed to the doors.

There were very little people outside, but it was still a walkway, so Ray walked down the sidewalk until he was away from the main traffic area. He then stopped and leaned against the building, sighing tiredly. He looked at his phone’s clock then and stared at the sky. Just had to wait for a few minutes then head back to his room. Then tomorrow would be the last day of this business trip and he can go back home… To his empty routine working nine to five…

“Rayhat?”

The name made him jump. The voice was familiar. The name was like home. No one called him that. No one called him that except--

“‘Ko?” The name was out of his name before he even turned to look for the other man. It was a reflex, a reaction. Home.

He turned his head and saw Eko on the sidewalk coming from the hotel. He was carrying things, big and small cases with handles. He wore a backpack. He looked older. His hair was longer. It was a different color. His piercings were still the same.

They stared at each other, frozen. Then a passerby bumped into Eko and almost knocked him off balance. Eko swore and tried to rebalance himself and his heavy cases. Ray acted instinctually and moved in to help. He grabbed Eko’s shoulders and steadied him, until he and his cases stopped swaying. Then...just stayed there.

The two of them stared at each other. Ray had so much he wanted to say, but none of the words came to him. He couldn’t think of the words to tell Eko how much he missed him, how he thought about him a ton. He couldn't find the words to ask how Eko had been, how the world was treating him. All he could think of were how pretty Eko’s eyes were. He’d forgotten what they looked like up close. All he could think of were the times they had cuddled and watched movies...studied together...shared their food…

“Help me with my stuff?” Eko asked, breaking the awkward silence between them.

“Y-yea, sure man.” Ray let go of Eko and awkwardly took the big case from Eko. His friend gave him a big grin and motioned for him to follow. Ray fell in step behind Eko and followed him to...a car.

“Huh. I never imagined you with a car,” Ray spoke without thinking.

“It’s a company car,” Eko laughed, “can’t carry these on my bike.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Ray watched Eko unlock the car and the trunk. He helped him load the cases then slammed the trunk shut. No sooner than he did that did Eko grab him and pull him into a tight hug.

“HOLY SHIT, DUDE!!” Eko exclaimed, way too excited, and pulled back with a huge grin on his face. “I never thought I’d ever see you around here!!!”

Ray felt a grin split his own face. All of the awkwardness melted away and he gripped Eko’s shoulders again.

“I can’t believe it’s you!!!”

The two of them hugged again, tighter this time, with big smiles on their faces. Eko let loose a few more happy swears before they pulled away.

“Dude what are you even doing here?!” He asked.

“Business trip,” Ray replied.

“In that hotel?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, that’s fancy!”

“I can show you my room if you want.”

“Nah, I’m starving. Let’s go get dinner!”

“The hotel has a good diner—“

“And be stuck with that wedding party? No way.” Eko opened the driver’s door and sat inside. “Now get in! You’re buying dinner~”

“Fine, but I call shotgun,” Ray laughed.

Once they were both seated and buckled in, Eko pulled out of the parking lot and drove off. He didn’t go far and stopped at a McDonald’s to order a drive through. Ray laughed at the whole thing while they ordered, because some things really never changed, and readily held their food in his lap when they drove off.

“Where are we going?” He asked after Eko drove away from McDonald’s. His friend gave him an excited grin and didn’t say anything. It occurred to Ray then, that if this was anyone else, he’d be scared of his life right now. But this was Eko. Eko was never scary to him. Eko was home.

Eko drove out of the city and up a dirt path. Ray could hear the rocks on the road hitting the bottom of the car. He was mildly concerned about it, but Eko didn’t seem to care. So he stayed quiet and watched the scenery—or as much of it as he could see, anyways. There were no streetlights around, and the light of the crescent moon was weak.

“Okay! We’re here. Come on!”

Eko parked the car in the middle of the road and turned it off. He jumped out of his seat, buzzing with excitement, and took the food from Ray. Ray stepped out of the car and shut the door, then looked around.

“Whoa…”

The area around them was dark, with only the car’s lights and the crescent moon lighting it up. But in front of them—in front of them was the whole city. They were up on a cliff and the city sprawled in front them. Ray gaped at the scenery then turned to Eko.

“Dude, this is awesome!”

“I know! I’ve been wishing I could bring you up here since forever!”

“Why the secrecy, though? You know this isn’t my normal scene.”

“Psh, I knew you’d love it and didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.” Eko put the food on top of the car’s hood then pulled himself up. “Now come up here so we can eat!”

Ray managed to keep his blush down and climbed the hood of the car to sit by Eko. They talked while they ate, eagerly catching up (“The hell happened to your hair?” “I want to try out new colors”) and cracking jokes. Ray felt so good to be completely himself around someone. He felt so good to be around Eko again, even if just for a little while.

Ray pulled out his cigarette pack when they finished eating. He took a cigarette out then wordlessly offered the pack to Eko.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke anymore.”

“What?!”

“My boss said he’d give me a bonus if I quit.”

“So you quit?!”

“It was a pretty big bonus.”

“What the hell. When is he even gonna pay you?”

“Every six months. I’m coming up on my third one.”

“Holy shit. Why, even?”

“He hates the smell of smoke.”

“Damn. Need me a boss like that.”

“I can put a recommendation for you. Not sure what positions he has for IT guys though.”

“Damn--wait, what do you do there?”

“I’m a DJ!” Eko grinned wide. “It’s a huge ass club and I get to take on freelance jobs!”

“And a company car?!”

“I get awesome benefits.”

“There has to be a downside.”

“The boss is uh...quirky,” Eko looked like he was choosing his words very carefully, “and the pay isn’t as good as my old IT job. But honestly, I love it. Way better than my old job.”

“Huh…” Ray looked back out to the city and stayed quiet while he finished his smoke. A part of him was in awe that Eko got to do what he loved so fast. Another part of him was extremely envious of that, however. But he stayed quiet and let his thoughts go.

He didn’t look back to Eko until after his cigarette was done. His best friend was staring at the city ahead of them with a content smile on his face. The light reflected off his eyes and his odd colored hair, and Ray couldn’t help but scoot a little closer.

“I missed this,” Eko said when they were shoulder to shoulder. His friend turned his soft smile to him and Ray forgot how to breathe.

“I missed you,” he replied shyly. His eyes kept flicking between Eko’s eyes and mouth while his mind was thrust to the past. He thought about watching movies with Eko, the two of them curled up together and eating junk food. He thought about the two of them going out together to eat, thought about them taking food to the dormitory rooftop to eat in peace. Thought about them leaning against each other while they smoked, while they talked, while they played on their phones…

...Eko’s eyes were always pretty up close…

Ray snapped back to reality when he felt Eko’s breath against his face. They were too close--their faces were too close--when did Eko lean in--when did he lean in--he needed to pull back immediately--

--Eko’s lips were salty. From the fries. That was the first thing Ray noticed. Then he noticed that Eko was kissing him. Eko was kissing him. He had wanted to pull away but Eko was kissing him now--

--He kissed back. His breath was stuck in his throat and his face was hot and he kissed back. This was something he had wanted to do since they were still students. This was something he dreamed about when he was younger, something he still wished for guiltily on bad nights. And it was happening. Eko was kissing him and he was kissing back.

They broke apart with a hot breath. Ray opened his eyes to find Eko’s eyes still closed. His friend’s cheeks weren’t as red as he knew his own were. He pulled away and licked his lips. They tasted salty…

Eko used a hand to cup his cheek then leaned in again. Ray didn’t hesitate to lean back in. They kissed again, a little longer with a little more confidence, before they broke apart again.

“I thought you weren’t into guys,” Ray said after a few moments. His lips tingled.

“Yeah, that’s another thing that’s changed. I kinda...don’t care so much anymore.” Eko looked back out to the city, a serene smile on his face.

“About?”

“About the gender of who I wanna kiss.” Eko looked back at Ray with a shy smile. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Ray’s cheeks turned redder. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time too.”

Eko beamed at him and nudged his shoulder with his own. Ray blushed and looked away. They both sat in silence for a while before Ray spoke up again.

“I think you just managed to convince me to just move here.”

“What? No man, don’t move here because of me.” “...You know I’d follow you into hell, ‘Ko. Besides, I don’t really want this to be a one night stand.”

“Ohhhh~” Eko looked at Ray with a cheshire cat smile. Ray looked away and blushed. “You’re gonna need a job.”

“I’ll find one.”

“What time does your plane leave tomorrow?”

“Early evening, why?”

Eko sat up and pulled out his phone. He texted someone, who replied, and the two of them carried on a conversation for a few minutes.

“Boss says if you bring by your resume tomorrow morning, he’ll look it over and interview you,” Eko said when he put the phone away.

“Eko!!” Ray looked at his best friend, shocked. “Dude! I need to settle things on the other side before I can come here!”

“You might as well have a job waiting for you when you come back,” Eko smiled, “besides, working at the same place as me means you get to hear all my sweet tunes.”

“...Can’t argue with that.” Ray gave him a tentative smile and extended his hand so his fingers touched Eko’s. Eko responded by holding Ray’s hand properly and looked out to the city. Ray followed suit, heart beating happily in his chest, and enjoyed the silence.

“It’s beautiful out tonight,” Eko said after a while, eyes still on the city.

Ray leaned his head against Eko’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “It is.”

#zazu writes #lariat #ray #eko

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sheilarice1 · 3 years

Text

(Silver Death - Part 5)

Car Rides and Memories:

On the way into town I drive and Widow watches me from the corner of her eye. I can tell that she and Scarlett are having a conversation in their heads, just by the small nods Widow is giving every so often.

It's rather strange going to town in complete silence. I always have the radio or the music I have saved to my phone going so I don't have to deal with silence.

Getting into town and getting out of my truck anyone near looks at us.

I don't go to town very often, and when I do I always keep my hood up and head down because I don't like people seeing my face, or becoming familiar with me.

These girls are different.

Hoods down, and chins held high, accepting the looks they are given.

"Over there is the Bargain shop. Over there is CP Casuals. Up the street is Mal's. I will be in the grocery store. Good luck." Pointing to each shop as I say its name I leave the girls alone.

They go and get clothes.

I don't worry about where they go knowing they can handle themselves.

I go to the grocery store and get food knowing that I must be getting low with the extra mouths to feed.

With lots of healthy stuff in my cart I wander towards a section I rarely go to; the junk food.

I despise junk food. It's fatty and makes you lazy. HYDRA hated food like this. It is one of the few things I agree with them about.

Knowing that Thor wanted pop tarts I get 3 different kinds not knowing what kind he likes. The kinda I get are: strawberry, smores and blueberry.

Getting chips, dip, pop, and a few other things from this section I pay and leave the store after being in it for over 45 minutes.

Loading my haul into the box of the truck I can see the girls leaving the store across the street from me with three bags each.

They ignore me and walk to the next store that I had pointed out. Rolling my eyes I follow them and hold my hands out to take there bags once they notice me behind them.

Slowly they hand them over. They obviously don't trust me. I am fine with that. I do not need anyone other than Winter to trust me. I don't want anyone to get hurt by having people I trust betray me.

"I will wait in the vehicle."

"Are you not getting anything?"

"No Scarlett. I am fine with the clothes I have. Besides. I was not the one needing the trip in. I simply wanted to observe how you two were somewhere other than my house."

"You know Silver that's really creepy. Like, were you trying to see if we trusted you? Cause the answer is no."

"Natasha! Don't be so-"

"No. I don't care if you trust me. It would be wiser if you didn't. I just wanted to see if you would stick near me or stay together. I will be in the vehicle."

Turning I could feel their eyes on the back of my head.

I was mad that she called me creepy considering we had almost the same upbringing.

(Natasha's pov)

"Why would you say that Nat? You made her mad."

"Well sorry. I wanted to know what her reaction would be. Now, next store?"

"Do you think she's going to be fine on her own?"

"Seriously Wanda. She been in her own for how long? She'll be fine."

"Okay."

** time skip cause I suck at writing**

Walking out of the store with bags and Wanda in tow I head back to the vehicle we came into town in. Halfway across the large parking lot I can start to hear music. Knowing that it's from Silver's vehicle I guessed that what I said upset her.

With Wanda glaring at me we approach the vehicle putting our bags in the box of the truck and I get into the front while Wanda gets in the back.

The music had been turned off as soon as the tailgate of the truck had been opened. Silence seemed to bother the ex- HYDRA assassin.

Pulling out of the parking lot we turn onto the highway and begin our 40minute drive back to our 'safe house' in silence. Not being able to take the silence anymore Silver makes a swift move to turn her music back on to the same song that was playing before.

"See you made her sad when you said you didn't trust her."

"You're the one that can't get in her head. Is it not bothering you that you can't see her memories?"

"Yes it is. But I think she's doing it for my own good. I can understand the reasoning to why she won't let me in."

"And what's her reasoning then?"

Realizing that I said this out loud I sneak a glance at Silver who only has an eyebrow raised slightly because of my random words.

(Silver's P.O.V)

Turning off the music I stare out the windshield and say

"If you mean the reason I won't let Scarlet into my head it's because of the things I've done. The killing without mercy. And the treatments and procedures I have gone through. I don't want her to experience that."

"What have you been through to be scared for her? To be scared for her of you?"

"I killed my father. And I killed so many women and children that were in my way and innocent. She doesn't need to see that. It would easily harm her mind."

"Okay. So show her some better moments in your life."

"I have little memory of a time where there was no blood shed, torture, or pain."

No one said anything.

After a few minutes of silence Widow slowly leaned forward and turned my music on, so a new song came on.

Letting the music play I watch the gravel road and the trees on either side. I can Feel Scarlett watching me through the rear-view mirror, and am able to see Widow watching me from the corner of her eye.

I try finding a memory that's not painful while maintaining the wall that blocks Scarlett out.

Finally finding one I look at Scarlett through the mirror and tap my head. Raising an eyebrow Widow looks in the back seat to find Scarlett with her eyes glued to the mirror.

Realizing I had forgotten to allow her into my head I try to drop my walls.

"Now try."

**The Memory**

Winter and I are sitting on the roof of a HYDRA base that was beginning to shut down and move. The base had been getting to large and was drawing unwanted attention.

Winter and I had snuck out of our shared cell after the key master- a nickname Winter and I had pinned on our main guard- had drunkly forgot to lock the cell after Winter came back from a mission.

It was a warm day. Well as warm as you can get for Russia. Sitting side by side Winter and I were having a silent conversation.

With a few nudges I finally got him to tell me where he went.

"США" the USA.

"Зачем" Why?

"убить человека, который помог создать Капитан Америка" to kill the man who helped create Captain America.

"это был успех" was it a success?

"К сожалению" unfortunately.

"Can we speak in English? It is harder for others to eavesdrop that way."

"Of course."

"Winter. I don't want to be a killer anymore. I want to be normal."

"Don't speak like that. I know you want to be normal but since I've been training you I have seen the higher ups watching. They would make us immortal if they could. So they could have killers that know each other and never die."

"It's stupid, how we're always being sent off to do someone else's bidding. How you get erased and yelled at. Your words. My words. All of this is stupid."

"I know Silver. But until we can escape we will have to continue."

"I know Winter bu-"

I stop short when I start hearing someone coming up the stairs to the roof.

"пришло время уйти." It is time to move out.

"на нашем пути сэр." On our way sir.

No matter who it was you always said 'sir or on rare occasions ma'am.'

Standing Winter and I follow key master down the stairs through our base and into a room we knew to well.

The Freezing Room.

I turn to Winter my eyes wide. He looks sad and scared.

They start to put him in his tube and I resist. He hates it in there.

"Det" five

"Рис" rice

"мечи" Swords

"отец" father

"ребенок" child

"пуля" bullet

"Канада" Canada

"Серебряный" silver

"готовы соблюдать" ready to comply

With I horrified look on Winter's face I stop resisting key master and his friends shoving as they shove Winter into his tube.

"шаг в свой собственный убийца трубки" step into your own tube assassin.

Stepping into the tube and turning to face the door only to have it slam loudly breaking the words hold on me, I begin to panic

I try to get out.

But my arms had been strapped down.

It was starting to get extremely cold within my tube. There was ice already forming in Winters. Realizing I couldn't get out of this I didn't even try to use my abilities seemingly forgetting I had them.

I end up blacking out.

**Memory over**

"Winter took care of you."

"He was and is the only person trust in this messed up world."

"When were you unfrozen after that?"

Not realizing that Scarlett had projected the memory to Widow I am confused to here her words.

"Wanda showed me."

"Ah. Well I am not sure when it was. But I was sent to track Scarlett after she joined the avengers. Then I was sent out on a different mission when I reported back."

"That was to get rid of the Hulk?"

"You are correct Widow."

"What- what did you tell them of me?" Scarlett practically whispered trying to ask her question.

"I believe that I said that you were in good hands. It earned me a slap and then a few good hits from a confused Winter. But I know I didn't tell them where you were. When I saw you you seemed happy. You seemed to belong there."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

The rest of the ride home was quiet but comfortable.

#marvel #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bruce banner #tony stark #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #pietro maximov #sam wilson #thor odinson #agents of shield #nick fury #peter parker #maria hill #hawkeye #clint barton #captain america #black widow #iron man

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

The Land Of The Midnight Sun - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - Not particularly festive, but sometimes it’s cathartic to write a sad, but ultimately happy “we’re going to be okay” moment, and so I did. Shorter than I would normally like, but it’s the holiday season so you have to be nice. Here’s my little gift to you xx

Sharon had more regrets than she had adult teeth. The balls of her feet ached, throbbing with blisters from her ceaseless walking. Nettles had been stinging her exposed ankles for the past few miles, and the pain had graduated from irritating to numbing to agonising over time. She smelt bad, looked worse, and was beginning to wonder if she had turned invisible.

Cars passed without so much as a glance towards her outstretched hand. If anything, they probably saw her haggard appearance and sped up, trying to get away from her as quickly as they could. It wasn’t like she could do anything to them, anyway. She walked empty-handed, her stomach growling, a packet of smokes and a lighter in her pocket as her only belongings. No wonder they assumed she was some kind of runaway junkie murderer, hoping to be picked up and driven off into a nightmare.

They weren’t far from the truth, but Sharon had no intentions of killing anyone.

It was a weird time of night, and Sharon didn’t feel sure that she was still alive. As she walked, endlessly walking on a road to nowhere, she studied her hands with a scholarly focus. They were veiny, pale, grimy. Dirt beneath her fingernails. Scratched up. The sky was mauve and the world looked like a bleak 70s horror movie, unusually coloured, unusually silent. Never serene, just unsettling.

Against the unchanging background of the countryside, the gas station lights seemed too jarring, too bright. Sharon headed towards them, light-headed and thoughtless. Gas stations meant food, water and smokes. Given her lack of money, they could also mean police. In that case, gas stations meant a car, somewhere to spend the night, and civilisation again. It was a win-win.

Sharon had been walking for so long. It might have been 7pm or 2am. She had no idea what day it was, or the month. She wasn’t even entirely sure of her own name.

There was an old hunk of junk car hastily parked up beside a pump as Sharon approached. It was dented, a foul peachy-vomit colour, with huge silver scrapes along the rear doors. The thing looked like it had been pulled from the 60s and driven straight into a wall. But it was a car. The driver was busily filling it up.

The less witnesses, the better, Sharon knew. To her surprise, the door above the small shop didn’t have a telltale bell on it, and given that her location was in the middle of nowhere, the cashier likely didn’t expect customers. Good, because they wouldn’t be getting any. Sharon was a thief.

She didn’t need much; a few granola bars and an extra packet of smokes slipped into her pocket and then she was done. Funny how when it came to the middle of nowhere, the laws seemed to slip away and melt. Cigarettes should’ve been behind the counter, not lined up in shiny silver rows for Sharon to take as she pleased. She would call herself lucky if it wasn’t such an exaggeration. Being a runaway was fun.

As she stepped outside, the driver of the shitty old car had stopped pumping gas. She was stood on the other side of her car, kicking the side of it as hard as she could and screaming obscenities.

“A golf club would do more damage. Or a baseball bat.” Sharon told her, slowly coming closer.

The driver stopped kicking and looked up, surprised that she’d been caught. Her eyes were warm green, like grass in midsummer. It was a refreshing change from the maudlin sepia tones of the fields Sharon had been trudging alongside.

“I don’t have either of those.” She responded. Her eyelashes were long, and she smiled prettily as she spoke. Nobody had smiled at Sharon for a long time.

“Me neither.”

Sharon wasn’t sure what it was, but it seemed as though a flicker of trust appeared in the driver’s eyes. She was clean and seemed outwardly normal, but Sharon knew she was damaged too. Not a soul who was so far into the land of the midnight sun wasn’t a dented can, damaged goods, a runaway or a no-hoper or a useless junkie. This woman had seen battles, like Sharon. She appeared to think the same thing.

“I put the wrong gas into this stupid thing.” She kicked the car again for good measure. “I can’t call anyone for help because I stole it from my step-dad, and it’s a missing vehicle. But now it won’t drive.”

Sharon nodded. “No license plate. You’re smart. Not that there’s anyone around here except us.”

“You’re right.” The driver agreed. “Help me siphon this out and I’ll refuel and give you a ride. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Weirder things had happened. Sharon, on her knees, in a gas station, accompanied by a pretty blonde; in times not too far in the past, yet a million miles away, she had earned herself a modest few dollars in such situations. Only this wouldn’t earn Sharon a penny - just oily, grimier hands and a sense of surreal camaraderie with this stranger. The world around them just stood still, as Sharon and a stranger somehow emptied the tank together as though they had been a team for their entire lives.

In a way, they had. Sharon saw the hard glint in the driver’s eyes, the firm line of her jaw, her outward strength and resolution. The small patch on her jacket, clearly ripped and frayed from someone’s fit of anger, showing half of what she was sure had once been two interlocking Venus symbols. Whoever she was, she was running away for the same reasons as Sharon. To free herself.

They were strangers, and had no reason to trust one another. For all Sharon knew, once they were done, the driver would fuel her shitty car correctly and speed off into the horizon, disappear at the point of no return and fall off the edge of the earth, leaving Sharon in her dust. She would fade away into nothing, in the middle of nowhere, leaving Sharon to question her sanity as well as herself.

But she didn’t.

With a wry smile, the blonde finished refuelling her car and offered Sharon a filthy rag to help clean her hands. Then, after a moment, she opened the passenger door.

“Get in. I don’t think I’m gonna pay for this one.”

The luxury of sitting was a pleasure Sharon had almost forgotten. Her feet still throbbed, her shoes sticky with what she was sure was her own blood, but she could finally rest, nestled in amongst magazines and empty cups and discarded wrappers. Around them, the mauve of the sky had faded into a darker, duller purplish-grey, devoid of stars, as bleak and lifeless as the dead cornfields that rolled past the windows on an endless loop. Their soundtrack was radio static, occasionally interspersed with a soothing guitar twang.

“Who are you?”

Sharon tried to remember who she was. It was a loaded question, really. Who was she? An innocent young girl - no, not for a long time. A dented can, yes. Damaged goods. A jaded, scarred, exhausted girl, separate from the world, freakish and unwanted and strange. She was a lesbian, a punk, someone’s lost sister, someone’s estranged daughter. She was so many things, and she had no idea who she was anymore. She was a zombie, who had walked miles into the land of the midnight sun and now found herself gazing up at the harvest moon.

“My name is Sharon.”

The driver’s voice was unique, and Sharon liked it. “I’m Alaska. Where are you going?”

The land where the sun doesn’t set. The land where phones won’t take calls. The land of the midnight sun. The land of nothing.

“Somewhere that no one can ever reach me again.”

Alaska smiled a second time, pretty still in the diminishing light. “Me too. We can find it together.”

Her face was so beautiful, smooth white skin and long dark eyelashes and an elegant curvature to every single one of her bones. It was marred only by a bruise on her cheek, which Sharon gazed at unabashedly. Even her bruises were perfect, vividly purple, the only bit of colour in Sharon’s world.

“Who did that to you?” She asked, too exhausted to bother with propriety and tact. “Walked into a door? A lamppost?”

She chuckled without mirth, but she seemed unoffended. “Stepdad. Caught me with a girl in my room, starting beating the living shit out of us both. You know what they say.” She paused, her voice taking on a tone of bittersweet sarcasm. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

Sharon didn’t offer sympathy. She knew her flowery words would bounce off of Alaska’s armour and thickened skin at this point. There was no sense in offering meaningless comfort to this harrowed stranger. Alaska had been hurt. Sharon knew exactly what she meant.

“Yeah.” Sharon pushed her sleeve up, her fingers tracing the cross-shaped red scar that stretched from her wrist to the middle of her forearm. “I understand. Made the mistake of coming out in a religious town that already thought I had a demon inside me. Got sick of the exorcisms and white-hot crucifixes, so I left a note and got out of there. I’m hoping they assume I’ve committed suicide and don’t come looking for my body. I left without a trace.”

“Amen to that, sister.” Alaska bit her lip. The words hung heavy in the dead night air. “Or not.”

Things seemed dark, morose, grim. Yet - and Sharon was sure Alaska could feel it too - there was a pull, a light switch, a sudden shift in the universe, a change in the wind. Everything had been so bad. But things were going to improve. Running away had felt like cowardice, and giving up, and losing the fight. Running away had been an end, and ever since then the world had felt weird, off-kilter, faded. But this was a beginning, and starting with Alaska’s mesmerising green eyes, the colour was going to return.

Life wouldn’t be bleak forever.

“We can stop and camp tonight, if you want.” Alaska suggested. “I have an old tent bundled up in the trunk, and I’m tired of creepy lay-bys at the side of the road. Might be nice to pitch up and light a fire for the night.”

Sharon smiled. It felt so good to smile, after everything. Despite the dark, Alaska carried an infectious lightness within her that seemed to be spreading. “Well, it’s not like we’ll struggle to find somewhere flat enough to sleep. There’s nothing out here.”

“Right.” Alaska giggled. “We got an abundance of nothing out here. How spoiled are we?”

“Practically royal,” Sharon laughed, her voice rasping slightly as she slipped into quiet, jokey song. “I’ve got plenty of nothing, and nothing is plenty for me…”

It was almost completely black when Alaska came to a stop and started to pull out the tent, deciding they had travelled far enough. It could’ve been twenty miles or two hundred miles later, Sharon wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that Alaska was enchanting and even though every single fibre of her aching body was screaming for sleep, she would happily defy her own needs if it meant she could look at Alaska for a little longer.

With only the help of Alaska’s headlights, they managed to assemble a somewhat pitiful tent. Nonetheless, it was a shelter, and Alaska’s assortment of random jackets, blankets and shirts made a pretty decent mattress in the grand scheme of things.

“Wait here,” Alaska grinned, her mood heightened by their small success. “You’re gonna love this.”

She stepped away from their camp and reached into her trunk, pulling out two bags and then slamming it shut. As she came closer, Sharon grew confused.

“Wood?”

“For the fire.” She shook her head. “That’s not the exciting part. This is the exciting part.”

She held up the smaller bag, turning slightly so that the headlights of her car could illuminate the packaging inside. Through the thin plastic, Sharon could make out a bottle of red wine and a bag of marshmallows.

“We get to wine and dine?” Sharon asked, only half kidding. “God… I wish I’d found you sooner.”

She was so beautiful. Her smile alone could battle the warmth of a thousand roadside fires.

“You have a lighter, right?” She asked, then laughed as Sharon rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Go light the fire, I’m gonna open these up. This is our late-night dinner, like it or not.”

As she flicked her lighter again and again on the wood, soothed by the hypnotic dance of the flames, Sharon sighed dramatically. “Not. Marshmallows are gross, they’re all sugar. It’s like eating a diabetic cloud.”

Alaska laughed appreciatively. “I can’t deny that…” She let the words linger, her accented drawl becoming more and more charming. “But hey. This is just… one of those serendipitous moments in life where two strangers who share a common denominator can sit together and roast marshmallows over an open flame and talk about their lives. I think there’s beauty in that, somewhere.”

It was so difficult not to tell Alaska that she was the reason Sharon could see beauty again. She held her tongue and reached for a marshmallow, skewering it on a stick and settling herself down. The two of them nestled in the entrance of the tent, their knees hugged to their chests, reaching towards the fire to warm them and melt their marshmallows at the same time. With the headlights off, there was nothing but the firelight to wash over them.

“I wanna know happier things. Things we can both relate to. Something that can connect two girls who love girls who are lost in the land of the midnight sun with no intention of ever going back.” Alaska’s voice was dreamy, slow. Sharon was sure she wasn’t real. She was too perfect to be real, more like a hallucination than a person, and yet she was living and breathing and soft to the touch.

They were holding hands, toasting marshmallows with the other.

“How about… girls?” Sharon suggested, with a quiet laugh. “You have a type?”

Their voices were low, like it was a secret. Alaska spoke louder, breaking the secrecy of it all. They didn’t need to be secretive anymore. They were safe.

“Any girl who looks at me twice, really,” She giggled. “I’m kidding. I don’t think I have a type, I wouldn’t know. Just… pretty girls, I guess.”

Sharon pretended to pout as she brought the roasted marshmallow to her lips, but it was hard. “Oh, shame. I haven’t stopped looking at you, so it only counts as looking once, right?”

“Look away,” Alaska instructed her, the smile evident in the tone of her voice. “Then look back.”

“And then what?” Sharon teased, studying Alaska in the firelight. It softened her features, made her look gentler and sweeter and less damaged. Her sweet soul could shine right through her pain, and Sharon knew it. They were healing. “You’ll kiss me?”

There was no answer.

Sharon could smell burning marshmallows and fresh night air. She could hear the flame crackling, and feel the warmth of the fire. She could see stars, and skin, and constellations of freckles. She could taste Alaska’s lips on hers, breathing new life into her body, awakening sparks from embers she thought had long died out. She was reborn, renewed, rejuvenated. Alaska tasted sugary sweet, like marshmallows, her lips soft and welcoming and full of promise.

They were okay.

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #tw homophobia #the land of the midnight sun #submission

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