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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

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Simmer #8

CH8. Boiling Point | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

You wished the diner was busier.

You would’ve done anything for more customers to serve. Anything. But Jim’s was quiet, only a few regulars scattered around the tables, only wanting coffees, no refills, scowling if you came too close, blocking the sunlight that fell onto their newspapers.

Robin and Steve were by the bar, throwing a crumpled napkin between them like a baseball, talking softly about nothing important and you felt too hot as you stood polishing the cutlery, shoving napkins into dispensers with clumsy hands. You could see Eddie through the kitchen hatch, prepping the burger buns for the dinner rush that you hoped would come. His eyes were trying to find yours as he rolled out the dough but you were avoidant, moving around each empty table with your head ducked.

Eventually, the rolling in your stomach became too much and the sight of Chrissy loitering in the kitchen was making that hot flush creep higher up your neck, across the back of your ears. You slammed a pile of menus down on the coffee bar, ignoring the way Mr Creel grumbled at you, looking at Steve and Robin as if they’d be able to fix the way you were feeling.

“Did Eddie and Chrissy used to date?” You came right out with it, voice rushed and quiet, speaking low in hopes that your question wouldn’t carry into the kitchen.

The radio was on, a female voice crooning from the speakers and you hated the way Chrissy was swaying to the beat, powder blue uniform skimming the tops of her thighs as she stood too near Eddie, refilling the salt and pepper shakers.

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want, cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too, if it happened to you…”

“Chrissy?” Robin wrinkled her nose and looked into the kitchen, too obvious. You tugged at her arm, pleading. “Don’t look.”

Steve snorted, hopping off of the bar to block lean over it instead, knocking his knuckles against yours. “Nah. I mean, I don’t think so?” He squinted at you before he shared a look with Robin and the girl shrugged, confused. “Chrissy just likes to flirt. With like, everyone. Her and Eddie were friendly, I guess?”

“Friendly,” you repeated, swallowing the word with the lump in your throat.

“It’s not, it’s not like that,” Steve murmured softly. His eyes were searching yours, watching the way they turned glassy. “It’s not like it is with you, trust us, you don’t have to worry about that, okay?”

Robin nodded, reaching out to hold your hand. She squeezed your fingers and smiled. “Yeah, you seriously don’t have to panic. Eddie doesn’t worry about our eating habits,” she grinned when you rolled your eyes. “And can we talk about that hickey yet? ‘Cause, shit…”

You groaned, cheeks warm but your friends had succeeded in quelling the ache in your chest, if only just. You felt like the new kid again with Chrissy around, watching her sit on the stool - your stool - at Eddie’s station, laughing at a joke you couldn’t hear, pocketing tips from the truckers who came in for coffee and cake, asking her how her summer was, if she was still working seasons at the camp a few towns over.

Chrissy was confident and bright, a bubblegum pink smile and rosy cheeks, a pretty, bouncy thing that made you feel two inches tall and every time you caught her near Eddie, your heart sank a little. She touched him a lot, a delicate hand on his arm, shoving at his shoulder when he made her laugh, brushing a crumb off the lapel of his chef whites after he whisked up a new batter.

You stayed away from the kitchen, only taking orders that Jonathan handed you from across the hatch and you could see the way Eddie’s brows knitted together every time you turned your back on him but the jealousy was too overwhelming. The uncertainty, the self conscious ache that made your neck feel too hot and you knew you were being ridiculous.

You did. You knew.

But it was too soon to be marking your territory and scaring away the boy with questions like, ‘what are we? Have you kissed her? Have you kissed her like you kissed me? Are we more than friends now? Are we more than what you have with her?

“Chicago,” Jonathan’s voice interrupted your pity party. He was pouring a coffee for Mr Creel, the man’s seventh refill of the afternoon. “Chef’s asking for you.”

Your stomach flipped and you grimaced, trying to pull off the expression as a smile. You weren’t sure it worked. You held up the cloth you’d been walking around with for an hour to look preoccupied, shrugging half heartedly. “Busy,” you told the boy.

“He said he’s made you lunch,” was all Jonathan replied.

So you sighed and tried not to let his words tug on your heartstrings too much. You smiled and gave in, throwing the cloth onto the workstation by the kitchen door and you didn’t even bother announcing your arrival when the diner was so quiet. Eddie looked up the second you appeared, eyes wide and he was just finishing plating up a stack of pancakes, a bundle of chopped strawberries in a bowl beside them.

“Hey,” he breathed, wiping his hands on his apron. “Hey. You okay? I’ve not seen you all shift.”

The kitchen was empty, no sign of Chrissy. The stoves were off and only one grill was still sizzling, leftover pancake batter crisping in the corners as it cooled down, a simmer in the quiet. You smiled weakly, unable to stop the wobble in your lip.

Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby.

You coughed, clearing your throat until the lump there disappeared and you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry, it’s, uh,” you winced as you gesture back to the empty diner. Steve was sleeping in one of the booths, his head against the window. “It’s been… busy.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, a frown on his face. It was soft, concerned. “Sit, yeah? Have lunch with me?”

You took a step forward, aching to walk to the boy, to let yourself push your face to his chest and let him smooth his hands over your hair. You got to spend the night into the early morning with him, draped over his lap as you shared triangles of grilled cheese and then kisses after it but you missed the way he felt already.

Then the fire exit door opened and Chrissy sauntered back in, cooing at the sight of the pancakes on the worktop. Eyes wide, she skipped over, ponytail bouncing like something out of a damn daydream and you didn’t know what to say when she picked up the fork Eddie had laid out for you and speared it through the stack. Her lips were sticky with gloss and maple syrup as she licked them, moaning sweetly as she looked at Eddie.

“Oh my god, Eds,” Chrissy sounded pornographic. “I missed your cooking so much, you know that?” She turned to you, grinning. Oblivious - maybe. “Does this cutie pie cook you up some food too? I swear, I used to get three meals a day when I worked here full time. Oh my god— Eddie! Remember the triple stacked pizza—?”

You didn’t hear the rest of the story. You really didn’t care to. And as rude as it may have seemed, you walked right past Chrissy and Eddie and the pancakes that were no longer yours. You could feel the tears burning the corner of your eyes and it made your nose itch, your cheeks burn. You weren’t doing this where people could see.

The door to the walk-in was heavy but you yanked it hard, breath catching in your throat like a hiccup and you were quick to close it behind you, the thud making the shelves inside rattle but it was suddenly quiet as it was cold. The heat of embarrassment faded, the burn crawling up the back of your spine disappeared and you sniffed, gazing up at the ceiling as if that would quell your tears. You stared at the patches of ice, focusing on the goosebumps rising across your bare arms instead.

It was silly, you thought, to feel such a way. To let someone make you feel that way. But beside Chrissy and her perfectly curled ponytail and her pretty Mary Jane sandals, you felt small. Unimportant. Like you suddenly didn’t belong in the stupid diner with its stupid chequered tables and its broken soda machine. Chrissy hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. It was mean of you to dislike her, with nothing more than a name and her connection to Eddie to fuel your jealousy.

Feeling petulant, you decided that was enough. You swore, mostly at yourself, and pressed the heels of your palms to your watery eyes. You felt replaced and it was an awful, ugly feeling. As much as you tried to remember what Robin and Steve had told you earlier, you couldn’t get over the way Chrissy looked at Eddie, like she really knew him, like she had some sort of claim on him. It was a very female thing to pick up on, only seeing the subtle signs through the eyes of being a girl.

The glances, the quick up and down she gave you as you arrived that morning, weighing up the chances of you being competition. The touches on Eddie’s arm, the territorial way she barely left his station, the too sweet smile she gave you as she ate the lunch Eddie made for you. The chit chat that seemed pleasant enough, the not so hidden reminders in her stories that she knew Eddie for longer than you had, better than you did. They had inside jokes, old memories, shared stories.

There was a knock at the door.

An odd thing to hear, on the other side of a walk in refrigerator, but you knew there was only one person it could’ve been. So you sniffed again and swiped meanly at your eyes, leaning against the door, ignoring the chill, the way your cheeks were both hot and cold at the same time.

“I’ll be out in a second,” you called through the steel. “I’m just… trying to find some—” your mind blanked as you looked around the space aimlessly, eyes landing on crates of vegetables. “—some asparagus.”

You made a face, annoyed with yourself for such a lame excuse and you heard a shuffle from outside before a familiar voice came through. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?” Eddie sounded muffled, mainly from the inches of steel and insulation between you but you could still pick up on the concern in his voice.

You sighed, bottom lip wobbling and you opened the door, the brief wash of warm air hitting your cold face. The fridge didn’t lock. Eddie could’ve bathed in whenever he liked. But there was something about the way he’d asked you that had you giving in easier than you thought you would. You stepped back, arms goosepimpled and crossed over your chest as you made room for the boy inside the walk in. Back against the metal racking, your hip bumped against a pallet of butter, boxes of it stacked high. You didn’t look at Eddie not yet.

“Why’re you crying?” Eddie asked gently, ducking down and bending slightly at the knees so he could look at your face, so he could try and coax you into meeting his gaze. It was a soft question, not anywhere near an accusation and he said it so sincerely, like he really wanted to know what was upsetting you.

All you heard was crybabycrybabycrybaby. So you turned your chin and hid your face in your hair, letting the strands stick to your wet cheeks and you swiped at your eyes again, too harsh for Eddie’s liking. Your breath left you in a hiccup, a holding thing that made the boy’s brows pinch together.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie reached out and curled a hand around your wrist, wide and still warmer than your own skin. “Hey, c’mon, c’mere.” The boy pulled you in closer, hands coasting over the apples of your cheeks, tutting softly as he wiped the way the tears there.

You cringed, embarrassed at being caught in such a state but Eddie pushed his thumb into your cheek until you let him lift your face and your gaze met his. He frowned, eyes big and earnest and he made a noise that was meant to soothe. You couldn’t help but lean into his palm, eyes watering again and you moved away, stumbling over your words, not sure if you should be apologising first or asking the questions you didn’t wanna know the answer to.

“God, I’m sorry,” you scrunched your face, mortified. “I’m— I don’t know why I’m getting myself like this, m’tired or something.” Before Eddie could respond you pulled back to stare at him, cheeks hot. “Is Chrissy like… did you and Chrissy— are you—?”

Eddie blinked at you, surprised. “I—”

You regretted it immediately, the accusatory way you asked such a personal question. It had been two months, one date, one kiss. You felt so stupid. “I have absolutely no right to ask you that,” you rushed out, eyes wide. Fuck, you felt worse than before. “I’m sorry, that’s— that's none of my business.”

“Sweetheart, you spent the majority of last night with my tongue in your mouth,” Eddie tried to joke, smiling weakly. “I think you’re allowed to ask that question.”

You looked at him, mournful, the lump still stuck in your throat and an awful feeling of unease clinging to you. You shrugged, a little hopeless. “Were you guys like.. a thing? Are you a thing?”

“No,” Eddie answered, soft and sure. “We’re not. We’ve never been— not like that. Chrissy…” Eddie swallowed and pulled at his apron, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Chrissy just likes to be the centre of attention. And well, I guess you could say, uh, I used to have a crush on her?”

Eddie noticed the way your shoulders tensed. “But that was way, way back in high school. Nothin’ happened. Ever. And— and I don’t want anything to happen now.” Eddie grinned, wry, awkward. “She just likes to make sure she’s got everyone’s attention, y’know?”

You did know.

“You used to make her food too,” you noted sourly and you hated the way your voice came out small, delicate. Moody. “She said she was your favourite.”

“Babe,” Eddie said a little gruffly, fondly. He reached back out, hand catching yours and you let him. He played with your fingers, the ring on your middle one, his touch delicate and comforting. “I’m a cook. I make food for everyone, they just— they just gotta ask me.”

Well, didn’t you feel silly. So you bit a little, heat rising up then back of your neck again, embarrassment tingling, your voice rising. “I don’t know! It could’ve all been part of your— your moves, or something.”

“Moves?” Eddie choked out, incredulous. “Sweetheart, it took me two months to kiss you, you think I’ve got moves?”

You squirmed, embarrassed still. You shrugged, unsure what to say because in your eyes, Eddie had all the moves. You could still remember the way he kissed you, the feel of his hand on your jaw, your waist, in your hair, on your thigh. The way he kissed you between making you your grilled cheese, the bread almost burning as he got too caught up in you, in the way he pressed you back into the counter, dotting kisses over your cheeks, your nose.

“I don’t know,” you said again and you ducked your chin, hiding.

Eddie tsked but it was a soft sound, sympathetic and he pulled at your hand, tugging you into him until you relented. Your face found his chest, nose pushed to his fresh chef whites and he smelled like his cologne, lemongrass and something sweet like leftover icing sugar. He let you hide there instead, your hands clinging to the front of his apron and you only pressed closer when his hands smoothed over your shoulders, climbing down your sides until he could hold you to him. His lips were on your hairline, a little hesitant, because all of this was so new, because you were clearly upset, because he didn’t know what this was yet, how this worked.

“What can I do, hm?” Eddie asked you softly, voice a low murmur. The walk in didn’t seem as cold with the way his nose was pressed to your temple. “What can I do to make you feel better, tell me.”

That hopeless feeling melted away with each pass of Eddie’s hand up and down your back, fingers trailing over the curve of your spine. You mumbled something intelligible, shrugging your shoulders again and hoping that Eddie couldn’t feel the heat that radiated from you. “I dunno,” you whispered. You swallowed, throat tight. You didn't know what to ask for too much, not so soon. “I don't want to— I’m not trying to—”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” You could hear the frown in his voice.

“Last night meant something, right?” You didn’t ask for the world. No labels, not yet. Nothing too scary. Nothing too deep. “That wasn’t just a, uh, one off or whatever?”

Eddie laughed, the sound softened by the way he buried his face in your hair and the arms he’d wrapped around you tightened, squeezing, affectionate. “I have absolutely every intention of doing that with you again…” he murmured, coaxing you out of hiding only to cup your jaw, thumb pushed to your cheek. He grinned down at you, all flirt and charm. “And again and again and again. If you’ll let me.”

It was unnerving, what those words did to you. The tilt of his lips, the pretty cadence of his voice. Eddie’s thumb coasted over the apple of your cheek and suddenly you forgot all about the other waitress who was no doubt still outside in the kitchen. “That sounds nice, yeah.” You nodded, warm all over again, all for the right reasons.

“You gonna let me take you out too?” Eddie asked and he leaned back against the racks, the cold metal doing nothing to deter him as he spread his legs a bit, pulling you between them by the tie of your apron until you were framed by his thighs. Closer, closer. “A proper date this time, please. A movie, some dinner, a walk somewhere real nice so I can kiss you goodnight and all that stuff?”

You grinned, cheeks aching, surprising yourself with the suddenness of it because now? Right then? Nothing else mattered but Eddie. “That sounds even nicer,” you told him and your eyes crinkled with the brightness of your smile. “Please.”

“Can I kiss you now? Been wantin’ to kiss you for ages,” Eddie murmured and his eyes were on your mouth, thumb moving closer to your chin, the tip of it ghosting the curve of your bottom lip and you nodded, eager in a way that should’ve been embarrassing but you pushed yourself to your toes and clung to him a little tighter.

A soft kiss, much, much softer than the ones shared the night before but still not appropriate for the workplace. Especially not a walk-in that was cold enough to make your toes ache. Not that you cared. But Eddie didn’t seem to either, humming in appreciation when you pressed yourself against him, face tilting to the side for him to deepen the kiss a little, lips moving a little more urgently against your own.

“Need to stop,” he breathed as he pulled away, grudgingly, giving in again to press a peck to the corner of your mouth and then another to your cheek. His palms smoothed over your jaw, up across your temples to swipe away the baby hairs there. “Gonna get carried away.”

You felt dizzy, miles and miles away from the kitchen, from that awful feeling, from Chrissy. You knew exactly what he meant.

“Can I make you some food now?” Eddie nosed at your cheek, arms winding around your waist and you felt so adored, the affection pouring from him by the bucket full. “You’ve not eaten all day.”

“Because someone ate my pancakes,” you said sourly and you regretted it immediately. You didn’t want to be the jealous girl, the insecure girl, the petty girl. But Eddie made it very hard to want to share. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Eddie snorted and just kissed your head, a touch so casual it made your heart jump. “C’mon,” was all he said. “Get your butt out of here before you freeze.”

It was easier to shuffle out of the walk-in when Eddie was leading you, his hand holding yours, the burning embarrassment you’d once felt fading to a shameful simmer. Chrissy was still at the boy’s station, picking out pieces of strawberry from the bowl, the plate of pancakes now empty. Steve was placing a bucket of dirty coffee cups into the sink and he looked up as the two of you appeared.

“Oh hey,” he frowned in concern at your red rimmed eyes. “I wondered where you’d gone to, you ok—?”

“Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” Eddie interrupted, smiling as if nothing had happened. He sent Steve a look and Chrissy watched, sucking fruit juice and sugar from her fingers. Eddie grinned at you, squeezing past you and the counter, his hands on your hips as he passed. “Had to lend a helping hand, didn’t I? Short stack.”

Your heart ached, your chest feeling too full with the kindness, the affection. So you could only nod, looking sheepish and even if Steve didn’t believe Eddie, he stole a knowing glance at Chrissy and nodded. The kitchen was filled with the kind of tension that had made you run off in the first place, but the feeling of being out of place disappeared when Steve asked Eddie:

“I’m going for a smoke, you comin’?”

Eddie shook his head and busied himself with pulling an old stool out from Argyle’s prep station. It had one wobbly leg, but you didn’t care. Not when Eddie took your hand and helped you hop onto it, the chair closer to him than the stool Chrissy was sitting on.

“Nah, man,” Eddie said. “M’gonna make my girl some food.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #linecook!eddie

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megalony · 20 days

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Be Our Midwife

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, a lot like my latest Buck imagine. I hope you will all like it, I enjoyed writing this one and have a lot of requests lined up for you all. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While (Y/n) is spending some time with Buck, she suddenly goes into labour. They both pray Eddie will be there in time.

Enjoy.

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A smile curved on Eddie's lips as he walked back into the bedroom and locked his eyes on his wife. She was stood in front of the dressing table, wearing only her bra and a pair of Eddie's lounge shorts while she gathered her hair up in a loose bun.

He finished tucking his shirt into his trousers and padded across the carpet until he was stood behind her and he curved his arms around her waist.

His hands moved to cup her bare stomach with his elbows pinning into her hips and his chest pressed up against her back. He felt the shiver that bolted down her spine when he pressed his lips just below her ear and started to nip at the skin.

(Y/n) let her head fall back on Eddie's shoulder and her hands moved to hold his wrists when his lips started to make a trail down the side of her neck and over her shoulder. Her eyes closed and she held her breath, trying to sink into his touch, but if they carried on he was going to be late for work.

"Eddie, baby…" Her words trailed off into a groan when Eddie bit her neck like a vampire and she was sure he had drawn blood.

She tightened her hands on his wrists as his fingers started to feather up and down her stomach. She could feel his lips curving into a wicked smile when he turned her to the left and slowly started walking her over to the bed. Her knees bumped into the mattress before she managed to turn around in his arms, turning to jelly in his tight embrace when he kissed her.

His lips stole her breath and devoured her like he was trying to take all of her oxygen and inhale her like a drug. His fingers squeezed her hips and he nudged her back until the back of her knees pressed into the mattress and she had no choice but to sit down.

She parted her knees to the sides so Eddie could stand between them and she smiled when his hands drifted up from her sides to cup her jaw instead.

"Baby you'll be late for work." (Y/n) strained to lean her head back until her lips were level with his and she gingerly kissed his lips, soft and quick, barely even there, to tease him back.

(Y/n) could have swooned when she watched the way Eddie grinned down at her. He towered over her like a skyscraper and when he was stood over her like that with his knees pressing into her thighs, he looked mesmerising.

She moved to lean forward, moving her arms around his waist so her hands could grip his back and she pressed her face into his chest for a few minutes, breathing in his scent. She knew he had to get going soon or he wouldn't be on time for his night shift at the station. He was doing a double, working from tonight until late tomorrow afternoon.

"Hm, you gonna be okay if I go?"

"You mean can I sleep without you?" (Y/n) countered, moving her hands up and down his back while Eddie leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

"Hm, no. I meant you've barely left the bed today, so are you gonna be alright if I'm at work? You didn't look so well this morning."

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine and she loosened her arms around Eddie's torso when he bent down until he was crouching between her legs. His hands moved to her thighs and he gently raked his fingers up and down her thighs and beneath her shorts, creating pins and needles in his wake.

The way he perched his chin on her upper thigh made him look somewhat boyish and his soft smile made her heart leap in her chest. But it was the way he brushed his nose against her abdomen and pressed a soft kiss to her curved stomach that made (Y/n)'s hands move to grip his shoulders.

He didn't want to go to work tonight and be away for most of the day tomorrow if (Y/n) didn't feel well. He had been worried this afternoon when (Y/n) barely ate lunch and took herself back to bed. She wasn't the kind of person to stay in bed all day unless Eddie was there pinning her to the bed, or she wasn't well.

The last thing she needed was Eddie going to work and leaving her if she wasn't okay and needed him to look after her. She was eight months pregnant. If she wanted or needed Eddie to stay home, all she had to do was say so.

"No, I'll be okay, I feel better now anyway. And Buck's not at work tomorrow, I thought I'd annoy him for a while."

As much as (Y/n) felt better, she didn't want to be on her own tomorrow while Chris was at school and he was going to a friend's house for tea tomorrow too. And she hadn't spent a lot of time with Evan recently, they had all been busy. She was heading round to his apartment tomorrow to have a catch up.

If she didn't feel great, she would at least be around someone and wouldn't be on her own.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, you don't need to worry, baby." (Y/n) dragged her fingers through his hair slowly and methodically while his lips merged with her stomach and his hands gave her thighs a squeeze.

"If you say so," His eyes locked with hers for a few seconds before he moved his attention back down to her stomach he was still kissing. "You gonna be good for daddy, hm?"

His lips curved into a grin against her stomach when he felt the baby wriggle around. And he wasn't sure whether that was a yes or a no.

***

"Want another drink?"

(Y/n) tilted her head back on the arm rest and turned to the side as much as she could to look behind her towards the kitchen.

One hand clutched the arm rest and her other hand moved to press against the base of her stomach. She wasn't sure the baby agreed with the mocktails Evan had been making. Mixing different juices and fresh fruits must have been a bit too acidic; the baby was doing summersaults.

"Just a cup of tea please," Her eyes fell closed and her palm smoothed circles over her stomach.

All morning she had been over at Evan's apartment, killing the time together and catching up. He'd made at least four mocktails and he stuck to the non-alcoholic ones himself to make it a bit more comfortable.

"Here you go, you okay?"

Inching forward, (Y/n) straightened her back out and clicked her spine into place. She kept one hand around the arm rest to steady herself and shuffled to the edge of the chair so she could be closer to the coffee table. Her eyes followed Evan as he set a cup down in front of her and moved to sit in his seat on the sofa, sitting on her left.

"Just uncomfy, and probably tired."

"Eddie said you weren't feeling well." Evan took a large gulp of his coffee, grimacing when he realised how hot he had made it.

"Oh, he did?" She prevented herself from rolling her eyes, but she could feel a smile forming on her lips despite herself.

"He's a worrier. What time's he coming over?"

"Shouldn't be too long, why, you want rid of me?" When she messaged Eddie earlier, he said he would pick her up on his way home from shift so Evan didn't have to drop her off. It was too far to walk, especially when Eddie knew she hadn't been feeling well these past few days.

"Hey, you can stay as long as you like." Evan slouched back in his seat and grabbed the remote, flicking through to find something for them to watch. They were both sick of the music channels by now.

(Y/n) looked back down at her phone that was on the arm rest beside her. She hadn't gotten another message from Eddie yet. He said he would come over when he finished, but he didn't say what time he expected to finish or be over here. (Y/n) missed him. She wanted her husband; and their bed.

She turned her attention to the tv while Evan flicked through the movie channels a bit too fast. She could barely concentrate on reading the titles before he went onto another channel to find something interesting. Or at least something they had seen before that could be on in the background and not cause a big distraction.

Reaching forward, she carefully picked up the navy blue mug of tea from the table and took a sip before her eyes locked on Evan again.

"Are you okay?" He must have seen the confusion in her eyes because he pointed towards her hands. "You're shaking."

Her eyes cast down to her hands and her teeth sank down in her lip when she realised he was right. Her fingers were tightly curled around her mug, but it was trembling and shaking up the tea causing small ripples to bubble to the surface.

"Probably a sugar rush… just popping to the bathroom."

She set the cup down before she ended up spilling or dropping it and moved to grip the edge of the chair. But when she lifted her head, she smiled sweetly at Evan. He was already stood in front of her with his arms out in her direction.

With a tender smile, (Y/n) placed her hands in Evan's and let him help her up, mumbling a quiet "Thank you," in his direction.

But once she was on her feet, (Y/n) tightened her hands around his and waited a few seconds. Spots danced in front of her eyes and a sharp twinge tore through her abdomen. Why did the baby have to move at the same time (Y/n) did?

After a few seconds, (Y/n) felt herself going back to normal and she gave Evan's arm a squeeze before daring to start walking. Her hand cradled the underside of her abdomen and she rubbed in circles where the baby was moving. She took a slow shuffle away from the living room and beside the stairs to get to the bathroom that was thankfully near the front door, right opposite the kitchen.

"Thank God your bathroom's downstairs," She threw over her shoulder, hearing Evan laugh as she bypassed the stairs.

It was a very big relief that (Y/n) didn't have to climb the stairs to get up to the bathroom. She wasn't sure how long it would take her if she tried, and she had been relieved when she arrived that the lift was working. (Y/n) would still be climbing the five flights of stairs now if the lift didn't work.

Her left hand stayed cradling her stomach while her right hand reached out for the wall to steady herself.

She flicked on the bathroom light and pushed the door, but just as she walked over the threshold, she stopped.

A crippling shooting pain tore through her stomach and stole her centre of gravity. Her right shoulder slumped into the wall and her breath got caught in her throat when she looked down at her feet.

Oh God.

"Buck…?"

"What's up- oh… hey it's okay. I can grab you a pair of joggers, um,"

She felt Evan's hand on her elbow and he gently pulled her off the wall so she could lean on him instead. Her hands switched so her right hand was cradling her stomach that suddenly felt like it weighed ten stone. And her left hand grabbed Evan's arm with urgency as she tried to look up at him.

Evan's eyes danced over (Y/n)'s frame and the floor before he looked towards the stairs. He had seen (Y/n) in Eddie's clothes enough times to know she would easily fit and suit some of his stuff. Accidents happen.

"No, it's… Buck I don't know if t-that was my waters." (Y/n) pulled on his arm as if he could magically find the answer for her, but when her stomach tightened, she let out a groan. Her knees weakened and she moved her hand from her stomach to pin to the wall so she didn't drop down.

"Oh shit. Are you-"

Whatever he was about to say next got cut off when (Y/n) groaned and tears started to well up in her eyes.

She didn't know what to expect or when she thought her waters would break, but (Y/n) thought it would hurt more than that. She thought her stomach would burn when it happened and she would be in agony beforehand. But the twinges and sickness she felt must have been leading up to this.

"Eddie." (Y/n) looked up at Evan, trying not to cry but she couldn't help it.

She felt his hand move round to her back and he held his other hand out for her to hold. He took most of her weight for her and carefully turned her away from the bathroom she clearly didn't need anymore.

"I'll call him, don't you worry. Let's get you sat down, then I can get hold of him and call for some help. You're fine, so don't worry."

(Y/n) found herself nodding along with him and she gave his hand a squeeze and tried to hold herself upright. She couldn't seem to lift her feet so she settled on dragging and shuffling along, moving as fast as she could which seemed to be very slow, especially for Evan.

He helped her back towards the living room and when they got to the sofa, Evan turned her around and slowly helped her sit down.

Once she was down, Evan sat next to her and looked around for his phone which he snatched.

(Y/n) watched him ring Eddie's number and she moved her hand, silently asking for the phone. She wanted to be the one to tell him. Eddie would panic, she had to tell him it was okay, that she was okay but he needed to come and get her. Now.

But her lips rolled together and a wave of panic overtook her when Evan shook his head. "He's not answering… he might be on his last call of the day."

Evan knew how it went. They would take one last call before their shifts changed over and it could drag or go quickly but that meant they left their phones either in their locker or in the truck. Eddie would answer when he got the chance. He was always checking his phone recently to make sure (Y/n) was okay and that she didn't need him for anything.

"Eddie, it's me I need you to call me when you get this… (Y/n)'s going into labour."

"He needs to be here- oh!" Her hand clenched around the arm rest and she leaned over, smothering her face into her arm to try and stop herself from crying out.

She wasn't doing this without Eddie. This was her first baby, (Y/n) didn't know what she was doing. Eddie was supposed to be here to coach her through this and tell her what to do and that she was doing great. She wanted to hold his hand and lean on him and feel his lips on her skin.

She wanted Eddie.

"Hey, he's gonna be here, just give him a little time, he might even be in the car on his way here. Let's get you comfy, and I'll call an ambulance-"

"Ambulance? No, no not without Eddie! I don't, I can't- oh Buck, it hurts!"

When she took his hand, Evan tried to smile and shuffled a bit closer until their knees were touching.

"Okay, okay that was just as a precaution… let's get a stop watch to count these contractions, yeah?"

At least Evan had had some practice in this department. He'd delivered quite a few babies on shift, he knew the basics and what he was doing. And this was his niece or nephew and he was happy to be here at the start of labour. As long as Eddie made it for the birth, everything would be fine.

Eddie had to be here.

***

(Y/n) closed her eyes and buried her face in the arm of the sofa, smothering a groan. Her back was starting to ache and twinge from how she was sat hunched over, but she didn't know what to do with herself. She could feel Evan's hand on her shoulder, running along her upper back as he sat behind her on the sofa.

She took as many deep breaths as she could manage, but it felt like her lungs were on fire. They were burning like she was breathing in smoke and she could feel her lungs inflating and deflating which was something (Y/n) never normally took notice of. And it was horrid.

"Less than two minutes now… (Y/n) I think I need to take a look, see if your dilated."

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes but she tried to nod and pull up so she was sitting upright again. She knew he was right. Evan had called an ambulance because he knew things were moving quickly, but help wasn't here yet and he was starting to panic.

He couldn't move (Y/n), it was too risky to try and get her down to the jeep and to the hospital. And he had a gut feeling (Y/n) wasn't going to go anywhere without Eddie, who still hadn't answered his phone yet.

(Y/n) tried to sit up straight and she darted her eyes up to the ceiling when Evan crouched in front of her. This wasn't how she thought the day would end up. With Evan in front of her trying to see if she was about to have her baby here on his sofa.

"I think you're gonna be having this baby here." Evan cringed when (Y/n) slammed her fist down on the sofa. Her other hand moved to smother her face and she bit her lip, swallowing a cry. "I'm gonna go grab some towels and water- just until the paramedics arrive though, okay?"

"You've done this before… right?" (Y/n) pressed her chin down into her chest and clenched her jaw until her teeth felt like they were going to disintergrate into dust. She remembered Evan mentioning before that he'd delivered a child on the job once or twice before. That was a comfort, at least they weren't going into this blind. Evan knew what he was doing and (Y/n) knew what to expect.

"Oh yes. Hang tight, one minute."

Evan patted her thigh before he got to his feet and headed over to the stairs to get what he needed.

He'd never delivered a child off-duty before. He'd never delivered a child in his own home before. This was going to be exciting.

He found a few towels and blankets upstairs and pinned them under his arm and jogged downstairs to the kitchen. He filled a plastic bowl with water and tried to keep it steady so he didn't drop it everywhere, but he felt a bolt of panic rush through his chest when (Y/n) cried out. He steadily walked back through to the living room and placed everything down on the table while his eyes set on (Y/n).

She had one hand on her stomach and the other clenched so tightly into a fist he knew her nails would be piercing through her palm.

"Here we go," He tried to smile to see if it would help calm (Y/n) down while he doused his hands in the bowl and laid two towels down, one over his lap and one over (Y/n)'s thighs. "If it's a boy, will you name him after me?" The cheesy look that came over Evan's lips showed he was only joking and told (Y/n) he was a lot calmer than she thought he would be right now.

She wanted to laugh. Evan had asked Eddie that before but Eddie refused point blank. He might consider changing his mind now when he realised Evan was going to be the one delivering their baby.

When another contraction tore through her, she pressed both palms down on the sofa and tried to sit up and lift her hips up to see if it would ease the pain or not.

"Deal." She spat but all she felt like doing was melting into a puddle and crying until her throat went raw and her chest ached. Where was Eddie? Why wasn't he here by now? Why was she having to do this without him?

"Alright… I think you can start pushing soon."

She didn't want to. She didn't want to be doing this here. As much as (Y/n) loved Evan as a friend, having him delivering her baby felt a little too close for comfort. She was changing the boundaries. Ruining his living room. Giving him a scarred image burned into his mind for life.

"I'm scared," She could barely find her voice and when she did, her breathing hitched and her voice came out higher than usual but at half the volume. She was barely talking above a whisper.

"You don't have to be scared, you're not alone. I'm right here-" Evan placed his hand on (Y/n)'s knee and gave a reassuring squeeze. But they both jumped and Evan jolted into her knee when there was a knock at the front door.

Who was that?

Was it Eddie? Why hadn't he answered the phone if he was already off shift and on his way here? Hadn't he got the four voicemails Evan left him? Didn't he see the ten missed calls he'd had and the texts telling him it was an emergency. Call him. Hurry up. Answer the phone.

"Perfect timing!"

(Y/n) tilted her head back and tried to follow Evan with her eyes as he bolted out the room and beyond the stairs to reach the front door. She could feel the tears streaming freely down her face and sobs bubbled up in her chest like hiccups. Whoever it was, whether it was her husband or the paramedics, it was impeccable timing and (Y/n) needed them to hurry up inside.

A wave of relief rolled through Evan like a tsunami and he felt his knees shaking, threatening to give out on him when he yanked the front door open.

Eddie.

Stood before him with his usual quirked smile, flashing his teeth. His chocolate eyes were squinted, his hair was neatly brushed and rolled back on his head. He was wearing jeans, a tight grey shirt and his usual leather jacket that looked two sizes too small for him and made his arms bulge out.

"Hey Buck, you both had a good day?" Eddie slipped a hand in his back pocket and leaned against the doorframe when Evan just stared at him.

Was he not allowed inside? They had over an hour before Eddie and (Y/n) had to go pick Chris up from his friend's house. Eddie told (Y/n) he would come by and pick her up and he would stay for a drink before they left. He wasn't exactly late.

Despite the two hour call he'd been on just before his shift ended, he got back to the station bang on time to leave. Eddie got changed, grabbed his stuff and made a quick exit rather than hanging around to wind down and have a drink with the B shift. He wanted to come by and check (Y/n) was okay and take her home.

"Where's my girl?" Eddie leaned to look into the apartment, but the kitchen looked deserted and he couldn't see down into the living room.

"On the couch, in labour."

The smile dropped from Eddie's face instantly and his jaw dropped but he couldn't find any words. That had to be a joke. (Y/n) wasn't in labour- not without him here. She wasn't having the baby now. She wasn't due for another three weeks.

"What?!" Eddie barged his way inside, shedding his jacket in the hall before he ran to get into the living room where he could now hear (Y/n) crying out for him. Hearing his name pass through her lips like that made his heart drop down to his stomach that was tying itself up in knots.

"Eddie-"

"Fuck, fuck mi amor I'm here! Oh God," He pressed his knees down into the sofa and leaned over until his arms could wind around (Y/n).

He could feel how badly she was trembling and he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. While (Y/n) tried her best to sit forwards, pushing herself into his chest. Her face smothered against his sternum and she let the relief wash over her and let herself sob loudly into his chest.

Her hand scrunched up in his shirt and her other hand moved to hold his hip, as if reassuring herself that he was actually here with her. This wasn't a figment of her imagination trying to calm her down. She didn't have to do this alone. Eddie wasn't going to miss anything. He was here.

Feeling his lips pressing kiss after kiss against her temple made her cry harder and she clung to him, despite the pains wracking through her abdomen.

"We called you- Eddie I left hundreds of messages-"

"My phone died when I tried to check it, it's been in my locker all afternoon!" His eyes burned fury in Evan's direction. He hadn't intentionally ignored them. His phone died in his locker and he presumed (Y/n) and Evan would be fine and would have had a chilled day. Obviously he was wrong. "Baby I'm sorry."

His lips continued to press wet kisses against the top of her head until (Y/n) finally leaned back so she could look up at him. She felt his hand move round from her neck to cradle her cheek and he brushed away her fallen tears before he stole a kiss from her lips.

"How far gone is she- have you called an ambulance?"

"Yes, yes but they're not here." Evan resumed his place on the floor in between (Y/n)'s legs and took a peek before he grimaced up at them both. "She's crowning."

"Then I guess we're staying here and Buck can be our midwife, right?" Evan's quirked brow and lopsided smile was enough of an answer for Eddie.

Unravelling his arms from (Y/n), Eddie shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the armchair before he shifted round so he was sat down rather than kneeling up.

When his name mewled past (Y/n)'s lips and her hand batted out for him, Eddie reached across for her. He slipped his hands beneath her arms and carefully eased her his way so she could lean back on his chest rather than slouch back into the sofa.

His elbows pinned into her waist and he held his hands out so (Y/n) could take them both and deadlock them in her grip.

She let her head slump back on Eddie's shoulder and she turned so her forehead pressed against his cheek and she could press a quick, panting kiss against the side of his neck. Just the feeling of his hands gripped in hers was a comfort and a relief like (Y/n) had never felt before. She couldn't exactly reach down for Evan's hand when he was playing midwife.

"Okay (Y/n), I need you to do big pushes, let's have this kid." Evan dunked his hands back in the water, suddenly wishing he had a box of gloves handy from the station. He pushed up on his knees and moved his hands to (Y/n)'s thighs, seeing the familiar sight of a head being born.

"You're doing so well… as if you started without me, hm?" Eddie smothered his lips against the side of (Y/n)'s temple but his eyes stayed completely focused on Evan.

The last thing Eddie expected when he came round was to be sitting on Evan's sofa having their baby here. He was expecting to have a drink, go get Chris and then find (Y/n) tucked up in bed. This was going to be a surprise for Chris. He thought he would be having a sleepover with Evan when (Y/n) had the baby. Now he would find out his baby brother or sister had been born without anyone else knowing. Delievered by his uncle Buck.

"I know y… you love surprises," (Y/n) heaved in between pushes, closing her eyes so she could lean into Eddie's touch as he laughed into her hair.

She pulled her knees up a little higher and leaned forward, feeling grateful when Eddie leaned with her. He was like a backboard keeping her up straight and letting her lean her weight onto him so she didn't have to think or bother with holding herself upright.

"And the head's out, take a breath. Then little pushes, okay? You're doing great (Y/n)."

(Y/n) tried to nod and it was a relief to see Evan smiling broadly while his attention was focused on the baby. Just a little more effort, and she would have a baby in her arms. All the pain would be worth it when she saw their baby and watched Eddie hold them.

"(Y/n)… hey, you're doing great, but I need you to keep pushing as swiftly as you can for me, okay?"

Her hands tightened around Eddie's and crushed his fingers into her palms when she noticed Evan wasn't smiling anymore. He looked focused, pale, wrought with tension and a sudden need for things to move quickly.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Pressing a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek, Eddie held her tighter and tried to lean over her shoulder so he could look down at Evan. Trying to see what had him so rattled.

"Cord's round the neck." Evan nudged the towel on (Y/n)'s thighs back a little so Eddie could just about see the problem, but (Y/n) couldn't. She was too busy panting to strain enough to hear what he whispered. He didn't want to panic her because she might stop pushing or lose momentum in a panic.

He couldn't risk moving the cord now when there wasn't enough of the umbilical cord exposed and Evan didn't want to pull on it at all.

"Keep going, mi amor. So close now, keep pushing, good girl."

(Y/n) closed her eyes and smothered her face in the side of Eddie's neck, leaning back into him as much as she could until she almost pushed him down on his back. She could feel her feet fidgeting against the floor, anxious to try and push up or move or slide against the floor. She wanted to move, to do anything to relieve the tension and get this over with.

Her breaths came out in small pants and she all but screamed just as Evan lifted the towel and started to nod rapidly. "You've done it!"

When she felt Eddie leaning over her shoulder again, (Y/n) tried to look up at him, but he wasn't smiling. His brows were furrowed and he was watching Evan closely like a hawk.

She brought a trembling hand up to cradle the side of Eddie's jaw, feathering her shaky fingers across his sharp jawline flecked with stubble. "W-what's wrong?" She tried to look between Eddie and Evan to find out the problem, but her stomach tensed when she finally managed to catch a glimpse of the baby on Evan's lap.

Her stomach tensed as she watched him quickly unravel the cord that had pressed around the baby’s neck, but (Y/n) didn’t know if it had been tight or rather loose. She didn’t know if that had happened during the struggle of labour or if possibly it had been like that before. But it couldn’t have been, she felt the baby moving so it couldn’t have been strangling them for very long.

"Alright, there we go." Evan seemed to be speaking to himself more than to the couple in front of him as he fumbled to grab the pair of scissors from the coffee table. He hastily clamped and cut the cord before he turned the baby on their side so he could rub his hand up and down their back to get them breathing.

(Y/n) felt her chest heaving as she tried to regain back the breaths that she had lost but her eyes were focusing on Evan as much as they could with the tears beginning to distort her vision. The moment a small cry flooded through the air, she felt like she was going to faint.

She felt Eddie's wet lips smother the side of her head and he started to sway them from side to side as they tried to catch another glimpse of their baby.

"It's a girl." Evan wrapped the towel tightly around the little girl on his lap while he rubbed a hand over her back to make sure she wasn't in any state of shock and was still breathing well.

Pushing himself up on his knees, Evan leaned over and ever so gently settled the newborn into (Y/n)’s arms before he grabbed another towel ready for the placenta. At least this part was easier and Evan knew to keep the placenta so a doctor could check it was all there. The last thing they wanted was (Y/n) having a retained piece of placenta and needing surgery to get that out.

(Y/n) could feel a mixture of her and Eddie's tears running down her face when he smothered his lips against her cheek. They had a little girl. They'd had their baby. She was here, and she was okay.

She felt Eddie's arms move around her so his left arm was curved around her waist, keeping her pinned and snuggled back into his chest. And his right hand came up to rest on top of their girl with his thumb brushing up and down her chin.

"She's beautiful."

Nodding, (Y/n) glanced up at Eddie and stole a kiss from his lips before she turned to look at Evan. Once he'd bundled the placenta up in a towel, he scrubbed his hands in the water bowl and wiped them up and down his thighs. While he moved to sit down on the coffee table, bumping his knees into (Y/n)'s with a smile like none she had seen on him before.

"Thank you." She nudged his knee, unable to lean and take his hand to thank him properly for what he'd done for them today.

"I guess you can't name her Evan after all then, huh?" He scratched the back of his head and straightened his shoulders out, hearing a sinister crack that jolted up his spine.

"What?"

A frown etched onto Eddie's lips as he looked between his wife and best friend. Why would they name the baby Evan? Eddie had already told Evan months ago that he was not naming his child after him just because they were best friends and because Evan was Godfather.

Biting her lower lip, (Y/n) pressed her cheek into Eddie's shoulder and melted into him. But she couldn't hide her tired smile, especially when Evan was smiling like an idiot in front of her.

"I said if it was a boy, we'd name him after Buck… he- he did just become our midwife."

It was a big consolation that (Y/n) hadn't decided to stay home today. If she did, the emergency services might not have gotten to her quick enough like they clearly hadn't gotten here today. She might have resorted to calling Evan if she had been home alone in labour.

But being here when it happened was a Godsend because Evan knew what he was doing and he had done them the biggest favour in the world by delivering their daughter safely. (Y/n) couldn't have done this on her own and Eddie had barely gotten here in time. They owed Evan for this.

"What about Evelyn?"

(Y/n) looked up at Eddie, surprise pooling in her eyes when she realised her husband was deadly serious. He wasn't trying to tease Evan or make light of the situation. He was honestly suggesting naming their daughter after the Godfather that had just delivered her.

"Really?"

"You just delivered your Godchild, we owe you something." Eddie would have caved if they had a boy and named him Evan anyway. They couldn't thank him enough for helping them today. And this would give Evan something to boast about at the station for the next few weeks.

No one else at the station could say they had delivered a baby and had the baby be named after them. And this was a special occasion, this was his niece for all intents and purposes. Evan had delivered his best friend's baby.

"That's good enough for me."

#eddie diaz x reader #911 imagine #imagine #eddie diaz imagine #evan buckley #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #pregnant! reader

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mangowafflesss · 9 months

Note

- [ ] (Platonic or romantic) 141 react to a reader (with an established friendship with 141) who has ‘magic hand’s’ basically something I have, I can give great back massages and haven’t ever had any training or much experience just something I’ve been good at my whole life and sometimes when a friend of mine (whom I work with) is feeling achy they ask for a back massage or like I’ll offer one, just to be clear lol I mean like just a small one I’m not like taking off their shirt in the middle of work and it’s usually on out breaks or my break, but how would the boys feel with a teammate who has ‘magic hands’ and would be more than happy to offer one for a friend after a stressful mission?

- <3

I could do with a massage rn like my neck and shoulders are hurting so bad. I did not read this back so if it makes no sense that is not my problem :)

Relaxing after your hard mission was the easiest thing you could possibly do, lying on your bed with your pillow placed comfortably under your neck and head. As you closed your eyes to doze off a knock to your door made you open one of them in confusion.

No one would surely need you right now? right?

Trudging over to your door you swing it open and lean against it, your eyes glance over the man before you and you raise an eyebrow at what he could possibly want.

"Yes Soap?" he didn't say anything back to you and instead stood there watching you while playing with his fingers - which was totally unusual for the cocky Scotsman - you grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into your room, just in case he needed some privacy. He stood before you and finally looked you in the eyes, he looked embarrassed almost.

"I was wondering... if- youwouldgivemeamassage?" he took a deep breath and blurted out the words he was thinking. You were taken aback but you understood what he was saying to you and gave him a warm friendly smile. "Of course! come, lay down for me" you readjusted your blanket so it was flat and patted it so he would lay down on it.

"Where does it hurt?" you asked while limbering yourself up, ready to give him a massage. "My knee" he mumbles into his hands as he was clearly in discomfort. He was wearing shorts so it was easier to gain access, and he most probably wore them on purpose.

You have a physiotherapist stationed here who will give massages out to anyone but for some reason everyone goes to you to relieve their ache.

As you were halfway through your massage your door knocked again and you excused yourself from Soap to go and answer. Outside was Gaz who was stood awkwardly hunched over while holding onto his shoulder. "Can I help you?" you asked but you already knew why he was here - due to him being one of your regulars - he doesn't say anything and walks into your room uninvited.

"Soap move, its my turn!" Gaz grumbled angrily, the man didn't move from your bed and instead lay there stretching out his knee and bending it.

You pulled Gaz over to the chair in the corner of your room and sat him down in it. Your hands found the point in his shoulder straight away and soon enough the pain in his shoulder started to lift. "God- that's so good" he breathed out and you heard a snicker come from Soap who was still on your bed.

"Sounds like you're having a good time there Gazzy boy" he wiggled his eyebrows at the young sergeant who in retaliation threw a pen that was sitting on the table next to him.

"You should've heard the noises he was making weeks ago, got a noise complaint from next door" you said into Gaz's ear and you both giggled as you watched Soap grow red in the face. "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!" he huffed and you just laughed at him again.

They both left after that without any pain in their bodies, they gave you a hug in thanks and promised to bring you something in payment. Which was usually just a drink when you go out to the bar.

You looked at the time and knew that the remaining bodies of the group would be coming along soon. They preferred to come later into the night, not wanting anyone to know they too also seek you out for massages.

You were reading a book in the dimly lit atmosphere of your room in complete silence. It was soon interrupted when a hard solid knock came from your door. Placing your book down and glancing at the clock you see its currently eleven at night - perfect time to massage your higher ups.

You slid off your bed and trotted over to your door, opening it with a smile on your face ready to greet your most stubborn 'patients'.

"Hey guys! What're you doing here?" you say pretending as if you don't know why they're currently here. You always loved the way they roll their eyes as if to say 'seriously?'

And they did exactly that - Rolled their eyes so far into their skulls they could've probably saw their brains.

Pulling your door open wider you watched as they gave you a nod of acknowledgement and also thanks for letting them in. You could already tell the Captain was suffering with his lower back pain again but Ghost you couldn't tell.

"Who's going first? Captain?" you asked pointing to your ready made bed. Price nodded while taking off his hat and placing it on top of the book you were just reading.

He was about to tell you where the pain was but your hands were already on the problem before he got any words out. He relaxed under your touch and all of his problems and stress was brought out of him with just the touch of your hands.

It was nice knowing you could bring comfort and ease to your teammates, they've helped you so much with stuff that it just felt right to pay them back in a way that was beneficial.

"I think you're in the wrong profession Sergeant" is what he mumbles into your pillow as his face was smashed into it due to him being on his stomach. He let out grunts as you dug deeper into his back and then he breathed out a long satisfied sigh. He patted the spot of the mattress next to his head signalling for you to stop and so you did. He sat up and stood up bending and flexing his back.

"Fantastic job like usual" he claps you on the back and then proceeds to put his hat back on, he goes over to Ghost who had his arms crossed over his chest while sitting in your chair.

He stood to his full height and when you fully looked at him you could've sworn he was taller. He moved over to you and then lay down on his stomach with his arms placed above his head, baring his whole muscular back to you.

"My back" he said quite coldly but you know he was just in pain and he meant no harm by it.

Running your hands along his back you hit the spot next to his spine and you swear you heard him make a noise under his mask. You could feel the stress in his back and worked desperately to make it better for him. It had been a while since you started working on Ghost and his arms seemed too limp and loose.

Stopping for a second you glance to the side to see that his eyes were closed, the small silent breaths you could hear signalled that he was asleep.

You had just made big bad Lieutenant Simon Riley fall asleep with the work of your hands. You let out a laugh and when you turned around you saw your Captain also asleep in your chair with his hat tipped over his eyes.

Smiling softly you walk over to the lamp and turn it off while settling yourself on the floor of your room. You close your eyes and listen to the soft noises of your friends and fall asleep from exhaustion.

Mission Accomplished

#captain john price x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty

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imjustasimpxd · 9 months

Text

My Angel (Part Two)

➬ Reiner Braun x Fem reader

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

Summary : Reiner was always taught that the devils of Paradis were vicious creatures, but what is he supposed to do when he soon finds himself reluctantly falling for one? Or when he is forced to go back to Marley and leave her altogether?

Word count : around 5, 200 words

Warnings : Again, very angsty. Reiner feels guilty about what he’s done, reader is angry with him. Crying, mentions of heartbreak. Spoilers for season 4 part one.

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

❗️Important Note❗️

There will in fact be a part three! While I was writing part two, it ended up becoming so long that I just decided to split it up. That’s why this chapter leaves off on a cliffhanger (and that’s also why it took me so long to post this one). But I thank you all for your patience. If anyone else wants to be tagged for part three then let me know in the comments! :)))

“Can I please ask where exactly we’re going?” Reiner questioned, his voice lacing with a hint of annoyance as Falco gripped his arm, anxiously pulling him towards the city’s back alleys.

“I told you it’s a surprise! A friend of yours wants to say hi before the show starts!” Falco explained, glancing backward at his superior with a cheerful smile as he continued to pull him in the opposite direction.

“Is that right?” Reiner spoke sarcastically, scoffing quietly to himself as he took in the boy’s words.

What was Falco really up to?

Surely the whole “a friend wants to say hi” explanation was made up; because Reiner Braun wasn’t exactly a man you would think of as having friends.

Sure, he was surrounded by people a lot of the time, and he even had allies with whom he got along pretty well with. But even so, Reiner knew he was nothing more than a comrade to them; nothing more than a vessel to wield the armored titan.

But that was okay, because they were nothing more than comrades to him.

With being born Eldian as well as being a warrior for Marley’s military force, Reiner Braun didn’t exactly have the time, luxury, or frankly, the mental strength to seek out any social interactions beyond strictly work-related ones.

Well, at least, not anymore.

He made that mistake once, and in doing so, it cost him the demolition of a poor woman’s heart; as well as his own.

In fear that opening up to another person again might cause that beating vessel in his chest to truly see itself past repair, Reiner Braun had decided to close himself off from others, refusing to repeat those tragic events of his past.

So, with that in mind, who exactly was this “person” that Falco was happily dragging him by the arm to see?

It couldn’t have been anyone he was genuinely close with; there wasn’t anyone like that for him, not anymore at least. Any authentic connections he once had with people were now severed, collapsed by the calamity he caused back on that forsaken island.

So who on earth was he being forced to see?

“It’s just in here!” Falco said excitedly, his finger pointing toward a wooden door as they rounded the corner; one that lead to a basement stationed under an older apartment complex.

From the outside, the place looked dim and run down, its location secluded to a quiet and unfrequented street.

The very sight had Reiner scratching his head in confusion. Of all places, why here? Why pick such an isolated area to meet with him? Not only that, but why would this person send a naive little boy to escort him to this place instead of just contacting Reiner directly?

Was this a trap he was walking into?

Should he leave?

Like a flame set to brush, panic began spreading through Reiner’s veins. His free hand was gripped into a strained fist and his eyes darted in all directions, watching out for any surprise attacks.

If this really was a trap, if someone was anticipating charging at him, then he’d be ready for it.

Suddenly, the wooden door opened. Loud groans from the beat-down hinges filled the air, followed by the sound of footsteps; footsteps that belonged to a dark, hooded figure.

Reiner’s eyes widened at the scene before him, an eerie feeling twisting in his stomach as he watched the mysterious person walk out the door; heading in his direction.

Whoever it was, he thought about fighting them off, even going as far as raising both his hands in the air to assume a defensive stance.

However, that’s when he caught a glimpse of Falco next to him. The little boy had started to head towards the figure, almost as if he was acquainted with the human; if it even was human.

“Falco wait!” Reiner quickly followed in the boy’s footsteps, gripping his arm before he could walk any closer to the person. “We should leave.” He suggested, anxiously tugging on the boy’s limb in hopes to urge him back in the opposite direction.

“It’s okay Mr. Braun,” Falco smiled, quick to reassure his superior. “This is where he said to meet him.”

Who’s he? Was it that person lurking around with the cloak draped across their face? Or was there someone inside as well?

Reiner didn’t have any answers, nor did he have a definite resolve on how to react in this situation. Should he trust Falco’s judgment and allow this “meetup” to happen? Or should he grab the boy and run while he still had the chance?

The latter seemed like the best option, especially considering the fact that Falco was just a child, and therefore could’ve easily been manipulated into something dangerous.

He wanted to trust Falco’s words, but it was too risky. If something happened, the boy’s blood would be on Reiner’s hands; and he couldn’t bear the weight of any more sorrow, or any more guilt.

“We’re leaving, Falco!” Reiner insisted, readjusting his grip on the boy’s arm to forcefully pull him away from the situation.

Although, just as he’d turned around to take those first few steps, he heard something that made his body freeze, and his heart clench.

“If you’re done arguing you can go on ahead. He’s waiting for you inside.”

That voice. Reiner knew that voice.

It was the same one he used to hear nagging at him to wake up in the early mornings. The same voice that used to comfort him whenever he was feeling disheartened.

It was… the same voice he never thought he’d have the pleasure of hearing ever again…

All he received was one simple sentence, but that was all the verification he needed. There was no doubt in his mind, the voice he heard: belonged to you.

“Y/n?!” His body immediately turned around to face the hooded figure. His eyes then squinted, trying to see more than just the gentle silhouette of a pair of lips and a jawline that was exposed by the moonlight’s glow.

The figure froze at his words, saying nothing in response; almost as if they didn’t anticipate being recognized.

“Y/n, is that you?” Reiner asked again, hoping to earn a response this time.

However, there was none; at least, not a verbal one.

All he gained was a sudden flinch that occurred once he spoke that name a second time, followed by the subtle shaking of fingertips that poked out from the sleeves of the cloak.

You must’ve been scared, embarrassed; perhaps even both.

And who would blame you for it? The last time you saw him he had slaughtered more than half of your comrades. Who knows what he’s capable of now after four years have passed?

“Falco?” Reiner finally broke the silence, glancing down at the boy he was still holding on to. “Why don’t you go on inside, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

However, before the boy could open his mouth to speak, he was quickly interrupted. “There’s no reason for him to leave! I’m not staying to chat.” A stern voice echoed past the cloak covering your face, but that didn’t phase Reiner.

He knew it was you from the moment that first syllable left your lips, even more so now that you’d spoken a second time.

Your tone was serious, added with a hint of aggression in order to scare him off, but he wouldn’t be turned away by that. Not when this was the chance he’d been silently praying for ever since he left that island four years ago. The chance to finally see you once again, even for just a moment.

Now that this chance was finally here, standing in front of him, there was no way he’d let it slip away; regardless of the tone you used with him.

“Just a few minutes?!” He insisted, taking a few steps forward in case you were preparing to run away. “Please?” He asked in a much quieter tone, his eyes practically begging for you to give in, to grant him even the smallest portion of your time.

Even after all these years he still knew how to persuade you, didn’t he? He must’ve, otherwise, your mouth would’ve never opened to let out a frustrated “Five minutes and that’s it!”

Reiner’s shoulders quickly relaxed at your words. His head then turned towards Falco subsequently, giving him a quick nod of his head: which apparently was his signal to “get going.”

Falco’s gaze switched between Reiner and the person he was apparently dying to speak to. The boy was unsure of what was going on, or who that unidentified person even was, but nevertheless, Falco knew better than to argue with his superior; so he’d comply with the orders given to him.

“S-sure…I’ll just, be inside then…” Falco spoke hesitantly, slowly backing away to walk toward the wooden door. He stopped momentarily after placing his fingers on the handle, almost as if he was waiting for Reiner to change his mind. But after receiving no signs of a change of heart, Falco reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside; closing it behind him.

The moment that wooden door shut, an unpleasant silence filled the air. Instead of partaking in the “conversation” you were supposed to have, the two of you just stood in silence.

You didn’t dare speak up. Reiner was the one who made you stay after all, if anyone should be the first to start this conversation it was him.

Your eyes were fixated on him with a calloused glare, your lips refusing to part even the slightest bit.

Reiner on the other hand, wore an expression more timid and anxious than yours.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, fingers fidgeting with each other as he contemplated the best way to start this conversation.

“I uh…” He tried to speak, but the words fumbled in his mouth, leaving just as quickly as they came.

It’s ironic, just a moment ago he was begging for you to stay so that he could have the chance to talk to you, but now that his chance had finally arrived, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

As he stood there, overanalyzing a potential response, he noticed the way you scoffed, clearly annoyed at his delay in response.

You were growing impatient with him, and if he didn’t take the opportunity to speak with you now, you’d most likely never allow him another chance to waste your time again.

So, after what had seemed like hours of silence, when in reality was more like 1 minute, Reiner finally spoke up.

“Can you take off the hood?”

Your eyes quickly narrowed in confusion at his odd request. Out of everything he could’ve asked, everything he could’ve apologized for, this is the first thing he says?

“Why?” You questioned, still unsure of his intentions on the matter.

“I just…” He began, but his words quickly started to fade out, almost as if he felt unworthy to be asking in the first place.

Nevertheless, you were persistent.

“You just what?!” You snapped, frustrated at his apparent dedication to withhold information from you; a recurring dedication at that.

“I just…” he inhaled shakily before speaking, “I want to see your face.”

You paused at his words, taking a moment to process what he’d just said. After expecting something pitiful, or perhaps even bitter coming from him, it was quite a shock to receive this: a fairly tender request.

He wanted to see your face? Why? What difference would that make?

It’d be the same one he saw four years ago, nothing’s changed; at least, not to you.

Despite asking for something which would require him to look upwards, Reiner kept his eyes glued to the ground, as if he felt undeserving to see you again. It wasn’t until he heard the heavy sigh that jerked past your lips, along with the quiet “fine” you gave in response to his request that made him finally look up.

As his gaze lifted, watching you pull that gloomy hood off your head, Reiner was met with a flashback of memories.

It all reappeared in an instant: the sound of your adorable laugh, the way your hair looked when the sun glistened across it, even the small little habits he’d discovered about you as time went by; they were all coming back, recollecting in his mind clearer than if it all happened a day ago.

Reminding him, painfully, of a time when things were simpler, when he was happier, and, most regretfully, a time when he had you.

Pulling off that hood allowed him to finally lay eyes upon a face he hadn’t seen in ages. A face he used to watch soundly sleeping next to him at night, placing gentle kisses all over when no one was around.

It was the same face he used to stare at in fascination; taken back by the beautiful way your lips would curve upwards into a smile, or even the way your eyes radiated the most alluring shade of color when the sun shone across your skin.

That face was one he had desperately longed to observe once more for the entirety of four long years, and coincidentally, it was the same face that now stared him down with an irritated glare.

Absent was the sparkle your eyes once held for the man standing before you, and gone was the loving countenance you were never hesitant to grant him.

Now your face lay still, your features refusing to move even the smallest bit in case it were to form some sort of pleasant expression towards him accidentally.

Who was this woman?

If not for the fact that he had easily identified her face, Reiner wouldn’t have recognized her.

Where was the kind and loving woman he fell in love with? Was she not the one standing before him now?

No, this woman was different. This one seemed to hold an inkling of abhorrence towards him, easily provoked by just his presence alone.

Was this… the product of his own making?

Was this… what he’d turned you into?

As if he wasn’t tormented enough by his decision, now he was witnessing the consequences of his actions unfold before his very eyes.

“How.. how are you here?” Reiner stuttered, still in shock over the fact that you were actually standing there; that for whatever reason, his prayers to see you again had finally been answered.

“I’m only here in service of a friend; nothing else.”

Your response was so vague, so cold; nothing like the endearing way you used to speak to him.

“Which friend?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You replied forbiddingly. Your tone sounded so distant, so unfriendly towards him.

To think, the last time he heard your voice, it had told him “Goodnight, I love you.” But now that voice was harsh as it spoke, probably regretful of saying those very words after waking up to find out he’d abandoned you that next morning.

The difference in your tone was beginning to eat away at Reiner, straining that beating vessel in his chest more and more with each look of your indignant expression. As if you’d just picked up a shovel and started digging, deepening his guilt further than it already was; if that was even possible.

“Your minutes are up by the way, and I have to leave.” You suddenly spoke, hoping your statement was bleak enough to end the conversation, meaning you could finally leave; finally be free of him.

“Wait!” Just before you could escape, Reiner quickly reached forward and grabbed your wrist, clinging to it as if his life was hinging on it. “Wait please, don’t leave…”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He deserved that. Honestly, he deserved more than that.

Call him whatever names you could think of, and he would let you, he’d allow every single one of them, no matter how excruciating, because he knew they were true; because deep down he knew he deserved them.

“I’m not interested in what you have to say, Reiner.” Your words were like knives to his heart, causing the already aching organ to shudder yet again. “Whatever it is you should’ve said it four years ago.”

Was that true?

If he really did explain it to you before he left, would things be different now? Would you have understood his situation? Understood why he had to do it?

Why he had to leave?

“Please,” he implored, desperately maintaining that grip on your wrist. “Please, just let me explain it to you.”

It was pathetic, how he was begging like this, pleading for you to stay and hear him out as if he wasn’t the one that left you in the first place.

“Nothing you say will change what happened.”

He knew that was true, but in spite of that, he still refused to let you go again without telling you, without apologizing at the very least.

“I know,” he admitted, a glossy haze shimmering in his eyes as he looked at you. “But please, I want you to know the truth.”

A part of you wanted to leave, to deny him any further chances to cause you more pain with an explanation. However, another part of you wanted an apology. You wanted to hear his side of the story; to hear whatever excuse he had for abandoning you. No matter how twisted, or pitiful, his reasoning was, you couldn’t deny you had questions you wanted him to answer.

“Fine then. Tell me.” You quickly adjusted your posture, staring at him with your eyebrows raised; a gesture he remembered you only used when you were serious about something.

“Why did you betray us?”

Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for since this conflict arose: his chance to finally be understood, to be seen as more than just the traitor he was made out to be.

“I was given orders,” he started, retracting his hand from your wrist now that you’d clearly abandoned the option to run. “I had no choice but to follow them.”

“And what were your orders?” Your voice sounded heavy, almost as if it was hurting to bring all this back up again; like a wound that was still fresh, still desperately trying to heal itself.

Reiner’s mouth remained shut, his head lowering as he closed his eyes, not wanting to answer your question. He knew he’d be made to look like the villain no matter what he said, no matter which way he worded it.

Did that mean he really was the villain?

In your eyes, maybe.

Perhaps you’d never accept his side of the story, never be able to see past the wretched sins he’d carried out. But regardless, even if he never got the forgiveness he so desperately wanted from you, he couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. It was time to embrace it, all of it.

“They told us to sneak in and make allies first, that way we had the people’s trust and no one would suspect us.” He sighed, his eyes refusing to look up at you in fear of the face you’d make upon hearing his confession. “Once the time came, we were ordered to steal the founding titan by whatever means necessary. And if anyone tried to stop us, we had permission to silence them, using whatever tactics we deemed fit.”

Reiner’s heart felt tight as he let those words out, his shame growing stronger now that he was remembering it all, remembering what he’d done.

How did things end up like this?

He was just trying to do what he was trained to do: save the world from ruin; that’s all. But here he was now, that mission an embarrassing failure as he reminisced on his actions; the same actions that caused such sorrow for so many people, including himself.

And as if things weren’t bad enough, as if Reiner wasn’t feeling guilty already, he heard a sudden change in your breathing that could only mean one thing: you were beginning to cry.

“No, wait!” His head quickly lifted to look at you, instantly regretting it as your distressed face came into view. “Please, don’t cry.” He begged, using his thumb to wipe away the liquid collecting on your skin; which you surprisingly allowed him to do without putting up a fight.

“Don’t cry, okay? Not for me.” He demanded, despite his own eyes welling up with tears as well.

He just couldn’t bear it, knowing he was hurting you yet again.

It was almost as if nothing had changed, even after all those years. As if he was reliving those horrors of his past once more, reliving that anguish he saw imprinted across your visage when you found out he was the armored titan; the same armored titan that had killed so many of your friends.

You didn’t understand it, even now.

Was the man who used to dote on you really the same person as the one who carried out such violence and hatred against your people?

How could that be true? How could he have done such a thing, committed such betrayal against the woman he loved?

What changed? Was it something you did?

Or perhaps a more gut-wrenching explanation: he never loved you to begin with. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to give you up, maybe, this was his plan all along.

“What else?” You asked, your voice trembling in the process.

Reiner’s face quickly scrunched in confusion, unsure of what you were getting at. “What do you mean?”

“Were those your only orders?” Tears quickly began trickling down your face faster than Reiner could stop, your gaze looking more despondent than ever. “Was there really not anything else?” Your lips parted to let out a stinging sob, one that seemed like it’d been held in for too long.

It was obvious you were waiting for some sort of answer from him, and every second he delayed with a response was only tormenting you further.

But, even so, it didn’t change the fact that Reiner didn’t understand what you were asking of him; or what you wanted to hear so badly.

Your eyes stared at him in sorrow, more tears absorbing into your skin before you asked your question one last time; phrasing it differently now.

“Was falling in love with me a part of your mission too? Was I just another means to accomplish your end goal?”

Reiner’s heart convulsed at your words, his mouth agape to let out a pained gasp.

Did he just hear that right?

A tool?! Is that really what you thought? Is that really all you assumed you were worth to him?

As if you could ever be such a thing.

Granted, he understood how you may have assumed that, given the matter of his betrayal and all. But, despite that, he never expected such an absurd accusation.

There was a wide range of names you could’ve called him: a traitor, a liar, a monster; anything, and he would’ve accepted it; He would’ve owned up to it.

But this: questioning whether or not his affection towards you was genuine; that was one accusation he’d never admit to.

You were never a tool, you weren’t even a part of his plan to begin with. Falling in love with a woman of Paradis wasn’t exactly one of the orders he received when he was assigned to that mission. In fact, getting involved with you went against the sole purpose of him being there; the sole purpose of his assignment.

He was sent there to exterminate the Eldian race, to wipe out every last one of those despicable beings so that the world could finally be safe.

Falling in love wasn’t an order laid out in his job description at all, much less with a woman of Paradis. And yet, he did.

Reiner was a strategic man, he wasn’t one to easily abandon orders, no matter how difficult they may be. That in itself should’ve been enough to prove his affection toward you; because he never would’ve done such a thing had he not felt it was worth it, had he not felt you were worth it.

Nevertheless, here you were, teeth gritted in frustration as you impatiently awaited his answer.

Your face spoke only of torment, and it pained Reiner to have to witness it. The way your eyes were slanting together in an unsuccessful attempt to subdue your tears, your fingers curling into fists to help better contain your irritation, all of it was a clear sign of the repercussions his decision to abandon the woman he loved had caused.

It was just like the last time, you were falling to pieces over him once more, and Reiner couldn’t stand the sight of it.

Your gentle cries may not have been as loud and mournful as they were four years ago, but it didn’t matter; the fact that you were even crying in the first place was enough to make that twisting sensation return to his stomach; possibly becoming permanent at this rate.

Reiner stretched his arm out to grasp your hand, hoping to console you, however, you quickly backed away, refusing to let him touch you.

“I don’t want your pity!” you spat, your fragile body trembling from both the anger and suffering fueling inside. “I just want the truth! Did you ever love me?”

Was that even a question?

Yes, he was fully aware that it would’ve been hard to believe the authenticity of someone who’d abandoned you; someone who so easily decided to turn against you, as if doing so didn’t phase them in the slightest.

But regardless, ignoring the heinous crimes he’d committed, did you still believe he never loved you?

Were his actions before this messy conflict never enough to convince you of his sentiments?

What about all the times he’d hold you in his arms, whispering to you about how happy you made him feel? Did you really not believe any of that? Was he pouring out his heart’s inner-most secrets for nothing?

Or what about the times he’d surprise you with food, despite rations being low? He almost got caught stealing food for you so many times; which was unwise of him considering the fact that it could’ve possibly had him kicked out of the survey corps: meaning his whole plan to infiltrate the military would’ve gone up in flames.

Or, perhaps how he’d always try to keep an eye on you during missions, making sure you never encountered something too dangerous for you to handle. You always complained that he was being too paranoid, but it was only because, unlike you, he was aware of the kind of power titans held; the kind of pain they could’ve, he could’ve, inflicted upon a tiny human being.

All he ever wanted was to protect you, to do what was best for you. Did you really never realize that?

Even after he made Annie and Bertholdt promise not to lay a hand on you during their countless fights with the survey corps, even after all the times he put your saftey before his own mission, was it still never enough?

Even when he left you behind, did you really never consider the fact that he could’ve been doing it because he thought it’s what’s best for you?

You would’ve never been safe with someone like him, so he spared you from that danger by leaving.

Even though he caused you much pain by doing so, did you still never put that together?

“I understand if you don’t believe me when I say this,” Reiner began, “But I never stopped loving you.”

Even before any words left your lips, the doubtful look stringing along your face was enough to tell Reiner that you didn’t believe him; or were highly skeptical at the very least.

“If that’s true, then why wasn’t that enough for you to stay?”

He’d asked himself the same question so many times before. Why didn’t he just give up on his mission and stay with you? It’s not like he wouldn’t have preferred that option in comparison to the one he chose.

Why didn’t he just let the Marleyans presume him dead, forgetting his life in Marley and starting a new one with you on Paradis?

He wanted to, he considered it even. But there was one factor he was forgetting that made all the difference; one tiny reminder that convinced him to abandon that option in the end: you deserved better.

If he stayed behind like you would’ve wanted him to, like he would’ve wanted to, then he would’ve been living a lie; deception would’ve been rooted at the heart of your relationship.

He would’ve never been able to fully open up to you because doing so would mean he told you the truth about his past, about where he’s from and why he came here in the first place. He’d have to fabricate every detail about his life up until this point; tricking you into believing he was born inside the walls just like you. He’d need to have an excuse for everything: why his parents weren’t around, where he was born, what his home life was like, everything.

Nothing about his life would be real anymore, from the moment he’d wake up, to the second he drifted off to sleep at night, he’d be living a lie.

Every time he’d look at your innocent expression he’d be reminded of the secrets he was keeping from you, the lies he was tricking you with; and he couldn’t live like that. He refused to live like that.

“Staying would’ve only put you in danger, so I left, taking the danger with me.”

“I see.” Your voice was strained, as if you were having trouble processing everything. The shock from seeing him again so unexpectedly still hadn’t exactly worn off yet, and with the addition of all this new information piled on top, you didn’t necessarily know what to say; or how to react.

So, instead, you remained silent, hoping some ideas might materialize inside your head as you waited.

However, you weren’t kept waiting for long because Reiner quickly took an initiative to speak once again, asking something that left you stunned,

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Your head quickly flung upwards to look at him, contemplating whether or not you heard him right.

“What??” You asked, aghastly, desperately hoping you misheard his question.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He repeated, unfortunately proving that your ears were working just fine, and that you did in fact hear him correctly the first time.

He only meant it as a farewell, nothing more.

He knew this might very well be the last time he ever saw you again, so, with that in mind, he wanted to leave you with something pleasant to remember him by.

He had every intention of letting you go, he’d walk away and you’d never have to see him again afterward.

Just one last memory with you, that’s all he wanted. One last moment to reminisce on the merriment of his past before he let you go for good.

That’s what he wanted at least, but, when you finally uttered a response, he realized it might’ve been too much to ask for.

“I’m with someone else now, Reiner.”

Part One | Part Three | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

(YES THERE WILL BE A PART THREE. So comment below if you want to be tagged).

Tags : @thebadbatch @mvteria @nervouslad @ah-finally @usagikookiejams

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atinylittlepain · 6 months

Text

Chapter Four

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: 18+ violence, physical injury, but there will be hope

a/n: this is a heavy chapter, i am not going to lie. as always, i have done my best to treat this heavy content with respect and truthfulness. i am not out for shock and horror, but honesty, yes.

..........................................

The burdens that you carry now

Well they're not of your creation

So let's not weep for their evil deeds

But their lack of imagination

Sweetheart Come - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

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There’s no denying winter now. Fall is always fleeting, and by the end of November, there’s no calling it anything other than cold. Sarah didn’t come home for Thanksgiving this year, a new boyfriend with parents to meet and a promise for Christmas. A small hurt still, tempered by how he and Dolores spent the holiday. No turkey, no stuffing, no stir or stress to any of it. A meal shared, simple as that, like any other day.

It’s been a slow gift, this new and unfurling closeness. Touch is always cautious, and quietly asked after. Every new okay, allowing for a bit more so that now, some things have become simple comfort instead of anxious and unknown. Like in the evenings, nothing even has to be said, already expected that they will settle down and around each other on the couch, and if she has grace to give, she’ll read aloud to him from whatever book she’s currently working through. Like in the mornings, sleep still making everything small and quiet, it isn’t uncommon for his hand to find the dip of her spine as they pass around each other in their shared routine, and it isn’t uncommon for her to lean into that touch, to pause in his palm. And around noon, whenever he stops into the diner, his hand will often catch hers when she slides his check across the counter, the slow sweep of his thumb over her knuckles.

“I might be late picking you up today, gotta help John with all the end of the month paperwork. You okay hanging here a little after four?” He tries to ask it casually, but the truth is, he doesn’t feel very okay about it at all. And he has no business feeling that quick curl of worry in his throat all because of the smallest, stupidest deviation from their usual routine.

“Of course. If it’s easier, Sal can drop me at the station after we close?” He isn’t sure which idea he likes less, her waiting around for him at the diner, or her coming anywhere near the station when she doesn’t have to. But closer to him always feels better these days, so he nods, a reluctant break of his hand from hers.

The thing about all this closeness is that it has only made that meanness, that hate blossom in their separation. Sometimes all he can think about when she isn’t around, the things he would like to do to husband. She has told him more, quiet in the night, things that make his heart stutter and then clench like a fist, like a jaw snapping shut. And today, moving through the day, he works all the poison over in his mind until John asks him from across the office what he’s scowling about. Oh, nothing. Nothing that anyone else could ever know about.

“Well, you got the last of this under control? I gotta pick up the kids from the bus stop pretty soon here.” Joel nods, working his mouth around civil words, polite words, sighing the instant John closes the door to the station behind him. He isn’t sure if husband has called this month. John hasn’t mentioned it, and Joel doesn’t want to ask. And there’s no point in telling himself that he shouldn’t. Shouldn’t be in the slow spiral of whatever this is with her. Because he is, and all the good of her makes him forget about shouldn’t. But the reality remains. That there is a man in Nebraska who called her his wife. That there is a man in Nebraska that Joel has imagined violence upon. An equal and accounted amount of it.

“Hello?” Sudden and startling, he nearly jumps in his chair at the sound of someone at the front desk. Not dressed in his uniform, but he’ll have to do, getting up and walking out to the front of the station.

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” Just passing through, no doubt. Tall man, thin man, wiry and a little worn-looking. A strange time for him to be here, though. One of the extreme types, he figures, cross-country skier or the like. The kind that enjoy pain, probably looking for directions up into the mountains for a novel excursion.

“Are you Officer Davis?”

“No, he just stepped out. Did you speak to him over the phone or something?”

“Oh yeah, a couple of times. I tell you what though, he hasn’t been much help.” Yes, definitely a tourist, probably out from Denver, full of himself and full of shit. Wearing an expensive-looking flannel beneath a puffer jacket, Patagonia, and making some snit, some little tiff about something, calling John like that.

“Well, what exactly are you needing help with?”

“Are you a cop?” Said with a raised brow and a once-over, and Joel has to remind himself that yes, this is part of the job, grinding his teeth to hold back a grimace.

“I’m Officer Miller, yes. Could you tell me what you talked with Officer Davis about so I can see about helping you?”

“My wife, we talked about my wife.” A strange feeling. A sick feeling. Pinpricked vision and a hard rush in his ears. Not just passing through, not just a tourist, and not from Denver. Suddenly, he’s not sure how he imagined this man, even though he built him in his mind over and over, a piecemeal Frankenstein that’s full flesh and bone and body before him now.

Smaller and slighter than he imagined. But aren’t all monsters much bigger in our brains? Easier to fight something that looks just as evil as its rotten core. But this is just a man wearing an expensive-looking flannel beneath a puffer jacket, Patagonia. A tired-looking man at that, drawn and dark circles under his eyes. A man that wears glasses. Men that wear glasses aren’t supposed to be the ones beating their wives. Give him someone with tattoos up and down his arms, someone with enough muscle for it to menace, someone with greasy, long hair and a sneered scowl. This man looks like he goes to work everyday from nine to five in a cubicle, this man looks like anyone else, this man looks like someone who would never be suspected, someone who would never be caught. And just like that, it starts to make sense to Joel.

“Your wife?” His wife, who is going to be dropped off here any minute now.

“Yessir, I’m Charlie Wright? I’m sure you’ve heard about what happened back in June. There was a car, reported stolen around your parts and well–”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. With all due respect, I’m not sure why you’ve come all this way after five months. Wherever your wife has gone, I can assure you she ain’t here.” At least for a few more minutes, at least enough time for him to get this man far away. No time for fight, not with the fine line of risk he’s currently walking just by having this man in the station.

“Are you sure of that, officer? Has there been any kind of a search effort for her? I’m sorry, if you could just empathize with me here. I’m only a man who’s trying to bring home his wife.” No, not now to that quick flood of fury threatening up his throat. He clenches his fists behind his back until it feels like the skin over his knuckles may split.

“I’m sorry, but it’s like I said, after five months, I reckon your wife is long gone from anywhere around here.” Whatever the man says back to him, he doesn’t hear it, eyes flickering over his shoulder to movement in front of the station.

And what comes next happens so slowly, so stupidly.

Dolores no longer feels anxious around the station. After five months, a figuring that it’s fine, that there’s nothing to fear or fret over. So when Sal pulls up and drops her off, she is barely even considering the building, idly walking over to it as she reads the back of a book she picked up yesterday from the library, using her shoulder to open the door and step inside.

“Lori?”

The rest does not happen slowly. A flash, a bright burst of motion. Something that sounds like a curse, a garbled, grunted you fucking bitch. Her book drops to the ground, spine splayed and cracked open, all the pages getting smeared to the side in an unfortunate crumple. And Joel can’t move. Husband has his hands on her. And Joel can’t move. It’s like husband knew exactly how he was going to move the next time he saw her, fingers closing around her throat, cage and crush as he walks her back until the terrible length of his body is pinning her up against the wall. And Joel can’t move. But husband isn’t just out for fear, a method to the way he takes one hand and clamps it over her nose and mouth while the other stays wrapped around her throat. Husband is looking to take something from her that’s past the point of fear. And Joel can’t move.

Husband is saying something to her, sneering something to her, though Joel can’t hear it through the pure panic flooding through his brain. His whole body screams to move faster, to get big and mean and loud, but he feels so very small, shocked into a slow, stuttering step that stops just as soon when suddenly husband lets out a curdled scream, his whole body recoiling from her in a tight curl, bent at the waist and clutching at his hand.

There’s blood, and that’s not right. Not the fact of it, of husband’s blood. The not right comes in how husband’s blood is smeared on her lips and dragging down her chin. In how there is nothing behind her eyes as she slumps back against the wall, a slow slide into a posture that he recognizes, curling in on herself, hands clasped behind her neck and her head ducking between her knees as she comes to sit on the ground. It’s a posture that’s taught to people to take when they’re afraid for their lives, a last hail Mary of protection to all the most vital, soft parts of the body. And Joel finally moves.

Second drawer from the bottom in the front desk, a pair of cuffs that he’s never been sure why they’re kept there. But now he doesn’t have to think at all about grabbing them, doesn’t have to think about how to pinch the back of husband’s neck in his hand and take him all the way to the ground, a knee pressed between his shoulder blades as he collects his flailing wrists and snaps them together in metal. There’s a fine flood of red dripping down husband’s left hand, perfect punctures on his pointer finger. It looks deep, it looks like it hurts, and Joel is glad for it.

The station has a single cell, used mostly and infrequently for folks needing to sober up after a particularly miserable night. Husband is still groaning and panting in pain as Joel hauls him down the hallway and behind the bars. All a bit cartoonish, all a bit garish. Lock and key and all that. And he only lets out a breath when the door to the cell is shut behind him. Much more important things that must be tended to.

His thoughts had been moving so slowly, if there were any thoughts at all, that suddenly it’s like a rubber band snapping back into place, breaking the surface, big gasp and a quick flood of frenzy and fury and fret, needing to make all of this right when he got it so very wrong. She’s still curled into and over herself, the heels of her palms pressed into her ears. And he’s not sure if it’s okay to touch her right now, erring on the side of caution as he kneels down in front of her, calls for her once, twice. Dove, Dovey. It’s enough to get a flicker of her eyes, seeing him, enough for her hands to fall from her ears, though she still stays all tucked up. The blood has already dried, rusted flakes of it on her skin, and he has to tamp down his own want to get it off of her as quickly as possible, settling instead for something slow, a careful coaxing of it’s okay now, please, let’s clean up, please, let me, please.

She’s still not quite looking at him, not quite looking at anything, something unfocused in her unblinking stare as he leads her to the bathroom, a small mercy that it’s down the other hall. A hand on her shoulder, an ask that she doesn’t say no to, lets him move her to sit on the edge of the toilet. A hand held on her knee as he fumbles to get a paper towel damp in the sink, still afraid that she will be gone if he doesn’t keep a pulse running to her.

He kneels down in front of her, and he tells himself that he has to be so careful, so gentle, violence already starting to split all her seams, all that slow stitching, all five months of it. And he can, for her, slow fingers tilting her chin for him. He is meticulous in his work, every last reminder of red until all that’s left is the suggestion of it and the shake in her lip. She doesn’t say a thing, shrugs out from under his touch, all he can do to make space as she stands up and shuffles over to the sink. And it is a shuffle, a limp, something heavy held somewhere in her body that she’s dragging with her. She dips her head under the tap, like prayer, like holy, lets the water run over her turned face until Joel starts to get worried. Pink water in the porcelain when she straightens back up, a slow unfurl of her spine. Still in her uniform, his stomach curls when he sees the spatter on the starched blue collar of it.

…

“You sure you got this covered for the night?”

“Not a problem, reckon your wife would have my balls if I kept you here any later.”

“Well if he gives you any trouble, I’m a phone call away, you know?”

“Yeah, John, I think he’ll be just fine once he sobers himself up.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for taking care of this.”

“Sure thing.”

Joel made two phone calls. The first was to Patty. No explanation needed, not a thing said, already understood when she came and picked up Dolores, a careful arm curled around her shoulders and a murmured promise of home and clean clothes. Only a cursory glance to Joel, an implicit command for a conversation later.

The second call was to John. And he had been ready to tell him the truth when he got to the station. But husband didn’t say a thing when the officer asked him what the hell happened, just kept his hands tucked between his thighs, a blank look on his face. Drugs, alcohol, drugs and alcohol, enough of an excuse for John to sigh and shake his head and agree that yes, he would have to be held overnight. And Joel is doing him a favor really, by staying overnight to keep an eye on things so he doesn’t have to. Joel is doing him a solid, Joel is a real pal, Joel is a real good guy for letting his partner off the hook like that. And really, Joel doesn’t mind, craning his neck to watch John’s car pull out of the parking lot, no, he doesn’t mind at all. Really, Joel is happy to stay at the station with the man in an expensive-looking flannel and a puffer jacket, Patagonia, getting striped and slanted between metal bars.

The thing about the station is, it is very old and very small, and not very serious at all. Just enough power behind those silver stars to keep things in order over the years. But because the station is very old and very small, there is nothing like a security system, nothing like cameras recording anything. So no one else will get to see. Only him and husband bearing witness when Joel steps into the cell and closes it behind him.

“Here’s how this is gonna go.” Husband scoffs, tips his head back until his skull rests against the wall, slumped on the paint-peeling bench.

“You’re gonna get in your car, and you’re gonna go back to Nebraska. And you ain’t ever gonna come looking for her again.” Husband thinks this is a joke, Joel can tell, the way he tilts his head to the side, grimacing up a smile.

“Like it or not, officer, that’s my wife you’re talking about. And by law, I can drag her sorry ass just about anywhere I want to.” Only him and husband. No one else will get to see how silence falls, only for a flicker, before Joel takes two steps toward husband. And she isn’t here now, so he can get as big and mean and fearfully fast as he wants to.

Easy, really, anger makes it feel like nothing. Like nothing to get husband back down on the ground, prone and gasping little broken breaths with Joel’s hand clamped around the front of his throat. And he could, right now, he could. Break this man and bring what’s left of him to lay at her feet. He wants to, so very badly, let his hand crush that flutter, that pulse. But just on the heels of that anger is something else. Something small and sodden and sighing. All he can do to let a flame of frustration tamp it down, hauling husband up onto his knees, giving him enough coughed-in oxygen so he can understand what words come next. Speaking slowly, right in his ear.

“By law, I could show the bruises that will surely be on her throat to any cop in a fifty-mile radius and have you put in jail for a very long time. But I don’t think that’d be enough, do you?” What did Dolores tell him at the bar that night? Once, right here. To temple, that’s right. Where Joel settles the mouth of his gun now. And there is no monster. Something far more pathetic before him now, beneath him now. A blubbering man, a begging man, tears and snot shining up his face. Please, please don’t, please don’t do this.

Fear feels good, right. Making something right when his finger curls against the trigger. A burst of sound, a sob tearing through husband’s chest as he keels over, breathing hard, relieved and retching all at once. Joel lays a single kick to his stomach, sending him skittering back on the floor.

“Here’s how this is gonna go.” A hand gripped tight in husband’s hair to hold his face up, to make sure he is listening so very closely.

“You’re gonna get in your car, and you’re gonna go back to Nebraska. And you ain’t ever gonna come looking for her again. And if you don’t do as I say, that cartridge won’t be empty the next time you and I cross paths.” He lets him go, lets him slump back on the floor, still heaving.

Not another word is spoken. The door to the cell is left open. By morning, husband is gone.

…

“She didn’t eat anything.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know if she slept, I doubt it.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“You and I are gonna have a talk.”

“Okay, Patty, later.”

“Yeah, later.”

The house is quiet and still when he goes inside, ears pricking to the sound of Patty’s car pulling away. Her door is cracked, the thin light of morning slipping and slivering down the hall. He’s not sure how much of anything is okay right now, silent and standing in the doorway. At the very least, she’s not in her uniform, an old sweatshirt he had offered her when the nights kept getting colder. Not bruised yet, but blooming fast, a smear of dark red across her throat.

“Is he okay?” It shocks him, startles him. He almost asks who, is who okay? But he knows who she’s asking after, asking for, and it makes him dizzy, makes him sick.

“He’s gone, Dove. You don’t have to worry about him now.” Her brow pinches and pulls down, a full-tilt crumpling of her expression that forecasts tears, though they don’t come, just that tremble to her lip.

“I hurt him.” Like confession, like sin, and he can’t stop himself from trying to sweep it away, two big steps to kneel between her legs where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on her knees to hold her where she is and tell her no, you did the right thing, you had to, it wasn’t that, it wasn’t bad or wrong or regretful, do not regret what you did, what you did was right, what you did was escape. And something else too, sorry. Sorry that she had to, because he didn’t, at least not in time.

“Is he really?”

“He is.”

“Forever?”

“He’s not coming back, I promise.” And this startles him too, the wrecked wail she lets out, head held in shaking hands, shaking shoulders, and shaking ribs that ache with sound and sob. And this isn’t relief, at least not entirely. It’s a mournful sound, it’s a losing sound, it’s a lost, longing sound.

The thing about a cage is that it becomes comfort once it is familiar. And the thing about monsters is that it doesn’t take much to become one. Just power and presence and taking something that does not belong to him, and never did. Part of her still loves that man, part of her is still kept by that man. And what Joel did, well, a keeping of his own, wasn’t it? A deigning and deciding of his own.

Something inside of him cracks, fine fissuring lines that splinter and snap, slumping back on his haunches, his hands slipping down to only a weak curl around her ankles as her whole body heaves. The loudest he’s ever heard her, a pure posture of agony in the way her spine snares and snarls up tight. And because of the crush of pain around her throat, the sound is near terrifying, broken and rasped, wounded animal, and so very not right, big, hot gasps of not right.

At first, he isn’t sure what it is, maybe just her body acting out some deep desperation in her hands reaching and grabbing onto his coat, still in his coat. Fists in fabric, asking him for something he is afraid to give her, though he does. An awkward contortion, lifting up onto his knees so he can bring his palms to span the shake of her back. She curls over him, into him. And what she says, what warbles up from her chest is an even sharper devastation. She thanks him, quiet and caught between gasps, thank you. Once, twice, his arms tightening around her to steady his own shake now. She thanks him for this undoing he has caused, and it in turn is his own quiet destruction. Because he would do so much more, unasked and unbidden. Dangerous, what he would do.

There’s no making sense of it, of the strange stir of grief and grace. Eventually, everything slows down, turns silent, and he’s still holding her, and she’s still holding him.

Nothing is said, not when bodies have already made so much clear. She lets him lead her to the bare light of the window, careful palms tilting her jaw so he can see what must heal. Asks her where it hurts the most and she just makes a dry sound that tries to be a laugh. There have been much worse hurts than this, he knows.

Maybe mercy, that there is always something that must be done around the fact of the land and the animals. They sniff into the morning cold, silent but close. Bleats turn into puffs of pale air, the flock already beginning their slow wander for the day, snow crunching under foot.

It’s a leap, a lurch of his heart to take her hand in his. She lets him, unspoken relief. Unspoken, all of it. But staying, both of them.

.............................

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fics #joel miller series #joel miller story #deliver me from nowhere

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a-aexotic · 1 year

Text

half & half. part 001. next

warnings ; mention of abuse, trespassing, weed, arresting, mention of mental abuse (lmk if i missed anything)

main masterlist. obx masterlist.

The summer in the Outer Banks was never dull, always an adventure around the corner. That's why you loved it so much and why it was going to be so hard for you to leave.

You were going to college on the mainland in the fall and it was going to be hard for you to leave your hometown. Everything you cared about was here, including your reckless little brother.

Ever since you were kids, you was always getting him out of trouble. You tried to believe that he was going to fine without you watching out for him but it was hard for you believe, especially when he does stupid shit like this.

You waited in the police station's waiting room, awaiting the cop to get JJ from the cell. Apparently he had trespassed on someone's property and was found with weed. You were glad Sheriff Peterkin had called you instead of his father, you knew that would've caused more harm than good.

As soon as JJ saw you, he waved at you like a little kid waving to their parent at a talent show. You resisted the urge to groan. The cop escorted him to the front desk so you could sign his release. You walked over to them, a tight smile on your face. You were already planning the lecture in your head that you were about to give him.

"Hey, Y/N." He flashed his signature smile at you. You ignored him and looked over at the cop, giving him all your attention.

"Sign here," the cop explains. "And here, here, and there."

You obliged, signing the papers before the cop gave you the okay to leave. You grabbed JJ by the sleeve and walked out of the station.

"Ow! Be careful, I just got this shirt." He joked before you glared at him. You were trying to save the lecture until you guys got into your car but JJ was making it hard for you to hold your tongue.

You ignored him as you unlocked the car, JJ getting in the passenger seat. You put on your seatbelt before sighing heavily.

"God, JJ, how reckless could you be?" You said as you turned to your brother. "I had to leave work early so I could bail you out. It was like, 500$, out of my pocket! That could've went to my school, JJ." You started the engine as you turned back. You were working at the country club so you can save up and pay for your expenses for college. You didn't want to take the money from your parents even though they'd be happy to give it to you.

"I'll pay you back, Y/N/N, promise." JJ states but you knew he couldn't. He doesn't have a job and even if he did, you knew you'd feel guilty taking money from him. "Thank you for bailing me out."

You sighed and glanced over at him. He had a sweet smile on his face and you could tell that he felt bad. You couldn't help but smile back at him. "Always, J."

You lent him the AUX and he started playing music.

"I'm gonna grow grey hairs 'cus of you, JJ." You stated as you two drove through Outer Banks. You had the windows down, feeling the summer heat on your face.

"Honestly, Y/N, I saved you. I mean, you're spending the afternoon with me instead of those country club assholes." He grumbled as he mentioned the Kooks. He wasn't wrong, they were assholes - but not to you.

Your father owned the country club so they had to be nice to you. If not, your father would have their heads and exiled from the country club.

"They're not too bad." You said simply. You didn't like to talk about the Kooks with JJ - it was a sensitive topic for you two. "They give me good tips, and without those tips, I wouldn't be able to bail you out of jail for trespassing."

JJ rolled his eyes and nodded, "I guess you're right. The Kooks are good for some things, like good tips."

The rest of the car ride was spent with you and JJ talking about everything and anything - you two were always extremely close. You had always taken care of JJ, even when you had moved to Figure 8. With your money, you bought him anything he desired.

JJ was two years younger than you and technically your half sibling - you two had different fathers. You had spent the first 8 years of your life with his father and not only witnessed the abuse, but endured it, too.

You and your mother were lucky to get out once your biological father had decided to come back to OBX after a few years. JJ wasn't so lucky. Your mom always said she couldn't get custody of JJ but you knew she was lying. Part of her didn't want JJ with them since he looks so much like his father. You tried not to resent her for it.

The only thing that ever came in between you and JJ was the fact you were a Kook and he was Pogue. He couldn't help but envy you and your happy, wealthy family.

You had arrived at the Chateau and you smiled at JJ. "I'll see you later, JJ. Stay out of trouble-"

Before you could finish you heard John B shout and you both turned your head to the home. John B ran happily to your car.

"JJ! Y/N!"

You rolled down your window and grinned at the brunette. "John B, how've you been?"

"Great, good to see you. I'm so happy JJ is still in one piece, I thought he-"

"I'm good, no thanks to you. You, Kie and Pope just ran off without me and left me. I'd expect it from Kie and Pope, but you?! I guess the 'no pogue left behind' doesn't apply to me!" JJ feigned hurt as John B sighed. You tried not to laugh at his dramatic words.

"Well if you weren't so slow-"

"Me? Slow? I got 7 minutes for my mile in P.E, so-"

"7 minutes? That's impossible, JJ, not with all the weed you smoke-"

"Listen, boys, I'd love to stay but I have somewhere to be. So..."

They both stared at you before JJ finally got out of the car and smiled at you. "Okay, I'll see you, Y/N/N. Have fun, be safe and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's nothing you wouldn't do." You joked before JJ glared at you. "Okay, shoo, you two. I'm gonna be late. Love you, see you later."

"Love you, too!" John B and JJ both replied before he scowled at the brunette.

"She was talkin' to me."

You drove away before the argument ensued. You drove to Figure 8 and as the sun went down, the air become cooler but not any less humid.

You drove towards the Cameron estate and you stopped the engine before taking off you seatbelt. You lived a few houses away from the Cameron's and when you moved to Figure 8, you had become close to the family.

Your father had expected you to become closer with the oldest son because you were his age but you and him never quite clicked. The more you hung around the siblings, the closer you became with Sarah and the more you grew farther from Rafe.

You had never had a pleasant conversation with him. He always seemed irritated with you, acting like you were just one of Sarah's little friends. Which you were, but he acted like you were the most annoying person on the island. Sarah assured you that's just how he acts but you couldn't help but wonder if there's more to Rafe Cameron than what meets the eye.

You exited your car and walked towards the big house, bikini in your small tote that hung from your shoulder. The Cameron's invited you and your family to a barbeque party for the celebration of the beginning of the summer.

Of course you had to be late because of JJ but you were sure they wouldn't mind since you had informed your parents. You knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer it. You weren't sure if Sarah was home yet and it was awkward if you had just waltzed in there.

Rafe had opened the door and his face immediately dropped when he saw you. He was wearing his usual polo shirt and bright shorts with his slides. You internally prepared yourself for another unpleasant interaction with the Cameron brother.

"Look who decided to show up, Kook princess #2." He feigned excitement. He had a bitter smile on his lips.

"Hello to you too, Rafe." You held back your tongue. You didn't want to be mean to him back, wanting to be the mature one.

"Who's at the door?" You heard Sarah shout before she came to the door and her face immediately morphed into a excited expression as she saw you. She pushed Rafe out of the way to embrace you.

"I was waiting for you! I heard what happened, JJ can be so stupid sometimes." Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you to the pool, leaving Rafe to close the door. He grumbled.

"Sometimes?" You added as Sarah laughed. You and Sarah have been close since you had moved to Figure 8, she was your first true friend. She and Kiara were your closest friends despite the age difference.

You were all friends until they had their fight. Ever since then, you had to spend time with them separately. And god forbid if you mention the other in front one of them, hell would break loose.

You greeted Ward and Rose. Apparently your parents are out getting some beer since they had ran out.

You and Sarah sat at the pool, gossiping about the most recent drama in Figure 8, including her most recent date with Topper.

"Yeah, he paid for me and opened the door for me, he was such a gentleman." Sarah blushed as she explained, making you giggle and hit her arm playfully.

"Wow, he has you blushing. He must be nice, then. I mean, I wasn't expecting that since he's friends with Rafe." You whispered his name, not wanting to accidentally summon him. "But to be fair, what he's doing is the bare minimum. You deserve more than that."

"I know, but that's a good start!"

You nodded, "Yeah. Now that I think about it, Topper's always been nice to me. I just always assumed he was an asshole because he hung out with the biggest asses on the island."

"What about Topper?" Wheezie suddenly appeared, sitting next to the older girls.

"Nothing!" Sarah quickly says before Wheeize rolls her eyes.

"Sarah, I can hear your phone calls through the walls, they're very thin." Wheezie explains as Sarah goes red. "Oh, Topper, you're so funny! Oh, Top, you're such a loser!"

"Wheezie! Shut up!" Sarah shouts as you and Wheezie laugh at her reaction. "God, do I get any privacy in this house?"

"We got the beer!" You heard your father open the sliding door as you whip your head to him. Your mother followed him as he carried the cases of beer. You got up to greet your parents.

"Finally, I need another beer." You heard Rafe groan as he walked over to your father as well.

Your mother smiled and hugged you. "Hey, sweetie."

"Hi,"

"What happened with JJ? Is he okay?" Even though she had technically disowned JJ, you knew that somewhere in her, she still cared for him.

"Nothing, don't worry about it, he's fine."

Your father turned to you and he grinned. "Missed you this morning, kiddo. Breakfast was exceptionally delicious this morning." He gazed at his wife. Your housekeeper takes Sundays off and your mother usually makes breakfast.

You laughed, "yeah I bet. Did mom make her special blueberry crepes?" You embraced your father.

"Yep, and they were delicious."

Your mother had smiled at his words and started to blush. "Oh, you're flattering me."

You laughed at her words, knowing that she was just being humble. You let go of your father, taking a beer from the case and turned. You saw Rafe staring at you. He looked dejected as he watched you and your parents interactions. As soon as he noticed, he looked away and turned his attention back to his phone as he took a drink of the beer.

You had always felt bad for Rafe, knowing that Ward doesn't treat him as good as he does Sarah or Wheezie.

As the night progressed, Rafe had decided to go to bed early. Ward had made some burgers even though it late. You ate them though, you were starving and they hit the spot for you.

After a bit, you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you walked up the stairs, you heard some shouting.

"Why can't you get a job, Rafe. I'm tired of giving loan after loan, when are you going to pay me back?"

"Oh, suddenly I'm the problem, huh? Sarah can ask for money but as soon as I do, it's a problem. Sarah is just the perfect daughter, right, dad?"

You heard Ward let out a loud angry groan. "I always have to clean up your messes and make sure you don't fuck up the Cameron name, Rafe! Sarah has never disappointed me a day in my life. You have disappointed me more than she ever has and you're older than her. Why can't you be more like your sister-"

"I'm not Sarah, dad! I never will. I can never measure up to the goddess Sarah, can I?"

Before Ward could refute, Rafe stormed out the room and looked straight at you. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Rafe-"

He walked away, scoffing at your words. You heard him storm down the stairs, slamming the door before you heard his car start and drive away. You stood there in shock for a few seconds before finally processing what you just heard.

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gucciwins · 1 year

Note

how are firefighter!harry and yn doing this winter?🎄i feel like harry would be constantly worried about yn because it’s so cold. like making sure she has hot water bottles every day when he’s not there to warn her himself. or even they go ice skating hes so worried for her safety. or yns worries when harry gets called out on a join in like blizzard weather :((☃️❄️

I love you, no one has asked about firefighter!harry in the longest time. So thank you so much for allowing to write about him again. enjoy this 1.8k blurb

____

“Angel, your gloves,” Harry places them in her hand, taking her hot cocoa from her hand as he waits for her to put on her black mittens.

“The cocoa was keeping me warm,” she mutters.

Harry shakes his head; he constantly worries about Y/N, but that triples during the winter. She shared how the winter is her least favorite season until it snows, then it’s all she will talk about. He’s sure if he wasn’t around, her poor hands would have been close to falling off from the cold.

“You made me put on a hat and two extra layers, Harry.”

He sighs, tugging her to sit on his lap; her purple corduroy puffer covers her face. He moves it to the side, happy to see a smile on her face. “My angel, you know I don’t want you falling sick.”

Y/N lets her hands rest over his shoulder, happy to be wrapped up in his warmth. She lets her hands play with the small curls that peek from the beanie on his head, showcasing his firefighter house.

“But I’m going to get hot as we skate, H.”

“Rather you start sweating, firebug, than for you to be cold.”

She nods, giving in. He’s only watching out for her, and she isn't making it easy. He had even helped her lace up her skates before getting her hot cocoa. She didn’t even have to ask. He knew that she would want one as soon as they arrived because of the aroma, and she never said no to a good warm cup of yumminess.

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

The grin on Harry’s face is something that will always fill her with warmth. He leans his head, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Always, angel. Now drink up. We got skating to do.”

“Will we get donuts after?”

Harry chuckles, “only if you’re good.”

She presses kiss after kiss to his cheeks and then his lips, and Harry knows he’d get her anything she wished for.

After their successful ice skating date, where Y/N happens to be more graceful than on her two feet, they went home to coffee and donuts. Y/N loved the shop right by their house; as always, Y/N ate one before exiting the shop. It’s a reason Harry always buys seven instead of six.

Sundays are their favorite days together because they both have the day off and dedicate it to each other. Sometimes it’s going out, and other times it’s staying at home under the covers watching old seasons of Survivor on their TV. Harry was a big fan, and Y/N was quick to fall down the rabbit hole with him when he played her his favorite season. It’s always their day.

Monday is a work day for both of them, where Y/N goes in for her 12-hour shift at the hospital, and Harry goes to the firehouse for his 24 hours. They might not see each other, but there is a constant string of texts on their phone to show that they are constantly thinking about one another.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you, angel?” Harry asks his girlfriend this morning as they both finish getting ready.

She shakes her head as she puts away her mascara. “Promise I’ll drive safe, H.” Y/N drapes her hands around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss he happily leans into. “Plus, I don’t want your hard work to go to waste. I know you cleared the driveway and cleared off the snow on my windshield.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, angel,” he mutters against her lips.

Y/N gives him one last peck before pulling away. “It does to me. Plus, how will I get home after my shift if you’re at the fire station?”

He sighs, giving in, knowing you’re right. “But you’ll call me when you arrive and get home.”

She smiles; he’s such a worry wart. Not that she blames him, she’s given him many reasons to worry from the moment they met after so many accidents. Yet, since he’s come into her life, there has been none because he’s always a moment away to save her from trouble, whether it’s an overflowing pot on the stove or maintaining the upkeep of her car.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry grins, happily showing off the dimples she loves to see. “I love you, too, firebug.”

_______

Y/N had been inside all day making her rounds with the young patients, ensuring their vitals were good and giving them new activities to have in their room. Most wanted colors and paper to make drawings for nurses and their families to hang around. She did not go out for lunch instead ate pasta that her friend Crystal offered, telling Y/N that she brought an extra plate for her. It also meant she did not see the snowstorm that had been growing since the morning.

It wasn’t until a patient was rushed in by a father and his daughter coming home from the market that a truck ran into them, the conditions not letting the drivers see the traffic light or any other cars. It was a head-on collision. The father was rushed to emergency surgery while the daughter was sent to have a scan as she only seemed to have a few cuts on her face. The other driver suffered a broken leg and arm; thankfully, no surgery would be needed for him.

Soon after, the emergency alerts landed across all phones, the beeping loud and insistent as they were warned of the blizzard taking place. Y/N knew she would be safe staying inside the hospital, but her worry increased as she thought of Harry and all the calls they would be getting. She knew he was trained and prepared, but it did not decrease her worry.

Y/N excused herself, finding a quiet room to give Harry a call knowing that hearing his voice for even a second would calm her. The phone rang, and she knew he was out on a call.

“H, I-I know you’re out doing your job. I know you promise me that you’ll do your best to stay safe every time, but some things are out of your control. But for me, please come home to me. I promise to stay warm,” she giggles, knowing it’s always his biggest concern about her never dressing appropriately for the weather. “I love you.”

She hangs up and holds her head high. She’s seen him work and knows he does everything with his heart. At the end of the day, she trusts him and will wait to see him home.

There was a constant flux of patients coming in from injuries or to simply wait out the blizzard. The cafeteria was buzzing, and so was the Emergency room, but Y/N was still aware that her phone had yet to ring but knew that meant he was okay. It was only a few more hours. She could make it through.

As her shift was ending, the storm was still intense, and she was too nervous to drive home and stayed the night in the hospital instead. She knew she could sleep in one of the cots in the break rooms, but for now, she’d work. Being there meant she was an extra hand to help. There were endless blankets passed around, something she was thankful for was that the power did not go out, meaning the store had not progressed. The news had informed them it would be gone by morning, but for now, she had to swallow her worries and continue to work. It wasn’t until close to the early morning that she sent Harry a final text and tried to rest a few hours before driving herself home.

“Angel, come on.” Y/N hummed as she felt Harry rubbing her back and felt safe to turn and snuggle closer to his warmth. He laughed, “Come on, let me take you home.”

Y/N blinked her eyes slowly and was surprised to see Harry sitting next to her, “Harry,” she breathed out.

“Hi, my angel.” Harry grins as she quickly sits up and throws her hands around him, burying her face in his neck and allowing herself to breathe him in.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she repeats over and over again.

“Mhmm…we had a busy night. I’m sorry I couldn’t call.” She shakes her head because it doesn’t matter, not when she has him in her arms.

“You’re okay.”

Harry pulls her back, wanting to see his angel’s face. Her eyes are teary, and he feels his heartbreak knowing she was worried for him, but he’s so proud of her because she stayed here instead of bracing the store. He knows she was his strong girl, but tonight she was his brave girl for staying, not trying to brave out the storm. She also did it, he knows to ease his worry. When Harry’s on call, they’re all reminded to leave family and all other concerns behind because, as Lieutenant, he has other lives to worry about, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t take time to think about his love. Y/N was always at the forefront of his mind. She was never something he pushed aside because she was his home. She was who guarded his heart, and knowing that she was okay was enough to ease his beating heart.

“I’m okay, angel.” He promises her. “Nothing happened. Promise I was careful.”

“I’m sorry for all the calls and texts,” she looks away bashful, knowing she might have gone overboard.”

Harry shakes his head, guiding her face gently to look back at him. “You’re okay, angel. I appreciated each text and voicemail. It left me calm knowing you were okay and that you were thinking of me.”

“Always think of you,” she shares, and Harry coos he really needs to get her home.

He presses a chaste kiss to her lips, but she follows after him deepening it, and he lets it go for a moment too long before backing up. “Let me drive you home, angel. We can take a warm shower and sleep before our next shifts.”

“The storm?”

“Long gone,” he promises.

“My car is here.”

Harry chuckles. She’s always one to worry about every little thing she must have learned from him. “I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.”

“Okay, H.”

He helps her up, helping her slip her hoodie on and then zipping up her puffer until she’s all bundled up, ready to brace the cold outside. He knows she’s pouting at all the layers but is thankful Y/N indulges in his small worries.

“I feel like a marshmallow.”

“At least you’re a cute marshmallow,” he teases.

“Harry!” She drags out.

“Let’s go home, firebug. Got some warming up to do.”

“Hot chocolate?”

“Mhmm.”

“And kisses?”

“Lots of them,” he promises.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles firefighter #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb

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skulla-rxcks · 9 months

Text

Because you’re mine. {Chapter 1}

next chapter

Paring: bangchan!afab reader, ot8! Reader

Rating: explicit (eventually)

Genre: mafia au

Warnings: eventual smut but not in this chapter, kidnapping, slight yandere!chan

Thank you for 100 followers :) ! Ily guys sm

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

Chapter 1: stranger

“Fuck!” I mutter stamping my foot, realising I walked in a completely different direction I was supposed to.

Hell, I guess that’s because there’s hardly any phone service in this area which means I have to find my way to a job interview so I can finally earn more money for myself; a cashier at a gas station, pretty lame but hey. Money is money.

As soon as the reception is back I go into maps and reload the page, my phone battery dying almost immediately. How am I going to get to this interview on time? What if they reject me on the spot? The questions jumble across my mind.

“Hey, are you lost?” a mans voice comes up behind me, his breath ticking my neck because of how close he’s getting.

“excuse me I’m talking to you.” He repeats.

“Oh Uh, I actually am, I’m looking for the l-local gas station around here, I’m late to a job interview and my phones dead.” My body trembles slightly as I turn around and look up at the man who’s talking to me.

“You know, you could’ve taken a short cut, tho it seems a bit late now doesn’t it, mmm? You did say you’re running late after all.. how about I give you a lift home? It’ll just take longer trying to find your way around..”

“I don’t know if I can trust you.. I-I don’t even know you!” My voice is shaky, eyes watery, scared about what to do.

“Shhh shsh.. first off; you can call me Chan or Chris, and it’s okay don’t worry, look if you’re that scared you can hold my pocket knife while I drive.”

The car ride is silent. My hands starting to get sweaty from gripping onto the pocket knife. It’s a bit too quiet so I decide to talk, asking a simple question.

“Hey Chris? What do you do for work? Your cars pretty nice and everything so I’m wondering.”

“It’s personal business.” he replies in a tone cold enough to send brutal shivers throughout my body.

Personal.. business? What the hell does he mean? I probably shouldn’t ask any further questions who knows what he can do to me, he’s just a random man who offered me a ride home.

“Hey uh. My house is that way…” I reassure him. “Chan, i s-said my house is that wa…” my body goes cold as I say that, a sharp and cold sensation thrusts into my arm; almost like a needle. I can’t see anything. It’s just black and red. Red and black, my whole body feels numb

A few hours later. I find myself waking up tied to a chair.

“oh so your finally up..” foot steps approach me.

“Chan..?Where am I..what did you do?” I say scared, feeling his hands on my face as he takes off my blindfold, finally letting me see where I am. It’s a dark room with one singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling, looking down I notice I’m tied to a chair.

“i had to do this, otherwise probably wouldn’t have seen you again, going out isn’t really my thing.. I could be caught..”

He reassures me, moving behind the chair and placing his hands on my shoulders.

“C-Chan.. w-why I am tied up.. please let me go.”

“Mmmmm… we were attacked recently and you could’ve got taken if I didn’t secure you in one spot..” his hot breath tickles my neck, making me gasp at how close he is.

He continues talking but I zone out, instead focusing on the way his breath feels on my neck, making my legs shaking under his touch. “What do you think I should do with you?” “what do you m-mean..” I mumble.

“you’re so easy..” I feel his lips move along my jawline. “I could kill you right now and be done with you like everyone else I bring back here.. but i want something else.” He continues.

His tongue traces along my neck, I swallow hard, unable to form words. “I like you, princess, you have a certain charm that intrigues me.. maybe I’ll untie you, but only if you stay here with me… hm?”

“Chan? Are you in there?” Someone pounds on the door, from the voice it seems like another man. “Yep, Just uh, give me a minute Felix.”

Chan turns back to me and whispers into my ear again. “I’ll be back soon, Okay? Stay here.”

He leaves a light kiss on my earlobe before opening the door and leaving me all alone.

Many questions run through my mind; what does he do? Who is he? Why is he treating me like this?

I want to get out of this chair, i need to. But I’m forced to sit down. I want to cry, i want to scream. I hate it. The sound of nothing fills the air, i look around for anything to help me get out. There’s literally nothing at all. Only the chair and a lightbulb.

I could yell, i have the ability to speak but who knows what this man is capable of? The only thing I can really do is stare at the empty space around me, as much as it is useless it’s better than overthinking about everything. After what feels like hours i hear the door click, a man with a mask enters, i can’t tell who it is due to the mask hiding all of his facial features, i can tell that his arms are buff and he’s fit though, with a similar figure to Chan.

“C-chan..?” I mumble out, lip quivering as i look at the guy in front of me.

“Yeah. Don’t move, need to take you out of this room.” He groans, untying the ropes around my legs and wrists, making me fall to the ground as he takes the chair away.

“H-huh? Why..?” I question, taking his hand and walking out of the room with him.

“Stop asking questions. I’ll explain it all soon” Chan snaps back. Once we’re out of the empty room the area around us changes drastically, red carpet, lanterns on the wall. Almost like a palace, enough to make me gasp in response to my surroundings.

“Follow me.”

#~skulla rxcks #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #skz x reader #skz fic

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lambertdiary · 8 months

Text

The Big Vision

Summary: Y/N and Dalton work on an art project together, but after a few hours they end up confessing their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: fluff, language, arguing, mentions of the further

A/N: Hey! This is my very first Dalton fic so i really hope everyone likes it! pls feel free to let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated!!

MASTELIST ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎✩ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎SEND ME A REQUEST

It was a rainy day on campus and Dalton was getting ready to work on his big art project with Y/N. Professor Armagan usually had students work on their art by themselves, but for the first time she thought it would be a great idea to have them work in pairs to create what she called: ‘one big vision’.

Once he was ready he gathered the art supplies they would need and left his building. Y/N’s dorm wasn’t too far away, they agreed to work there after Y/N reassured him her roommate wouldn’t be there. Not that he had anything against her, but he needed a lot of peace and quiet for a project like this. And he also would prefer to be alone with Y/N.

He thought about how much easier it would have been to work in his dorm, due to the fact that he didn’t have a roommate and had way more space, but since Dalton got possessed, Y/N had a harder time being there.

Y/N and Dalton have been friends pretty much since the first day of class, when they sat next to each other and Dalton caught her eying his painting instead of working on her own.

After a 10 minute walk, Dalton arrived at Y/N’s dorm. He knocked and waited a few seconds before she happily opened the door for him.

“Hey” She said with a big smile, taking a step back signaling Dalton to come in.

“Hi” He replied, stepping in and dropping his stuff in Y/N’s desk “I brought a few things we can use to get started today” Dalton informed her.

“Great” Y/N squeaked, looking through the things the tall one laid across her work station “I see you got some new brushes” She said, grabbing the mint condition box.

“Well yeah, I thought we might wanna try something different, at least for one of them”

“How are we gonna do this anyway?” Y/N questioned. The assignment was simple but tricky. They had to make two collaborative paintings, switching every 30 minutes to complete each other’s vision.

“I’m not sure” Dalton took a deep breath as he sat on one of the the chairs “We could start both paintings right now so we don’t waste time”

“Yeah, I think that would be the best idea” Y/N agreed “So different techniques for each one?”

“I guess” Dalton whispered, getting a few more things out of his bag.

Y/N could feel something was wrong, which was a little unsettling considering what had happened with him the month prior. She cared for his friend, and she wanted to ask him if everything was ok, she really did, but they also needed to get started as soon as possible.

They started to plan how they would actually do this, making rules to make sure they wouldn’t ruin a painting and discussing the techniques and supplies they would use for each canvas. After deciding on everything, they finally got started, each grabbing a canvas and setting a 30 minute timer.

The first two rounds were slow, not much happening on the canvases but their proguess started showing after the first hour. They kept working and switching paintings for two more hours, until Dalton’s eyes were too heavy to fully concentrate on their project.

Dalton sighed as he fell down onto Y/N’s bed. It had been nearly a month since he closed the door and things have been a lot better. His relationship with his dad, his fear of the dark, his nightmares, he didn’t even project as much anymore. It seemed like everything was finally going his way. Except for one thing.

“You look tired” Y/N said, eyes still focusing on the canvas in front of her.

“I am tired” Dalton replied, closing his eyes for a bit.

“What’s up? You’re not projecting again, are you?” Y/N finally turned around to look at his friend, paying close attention to his face.

Dalton opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, feeling his face turn red as he thought of the reason why he wasn’t getting enough sleep “No, no need to worry about that” He giggled, in hopes of lightening the mood. He knew how his friends felt about The Further. Especially Y/N.

“I'm glad cause I can’t imagine going through that again” Y/N joked, still examining his face. She looked at him shuffling in her bed, any sign of discomfort would instantly worry her “Talk to me, Dalton”

He closed his eyes again. He wasn’t the best at opening up about his feelings, so being in this position made him feel a little weird “I’m just really tired, I guess. I didn’t get enough sleep last night”

“Come on, don’t do this to me” Y/N insisted “If you’re projecting again, or if you have entities chasing after you I would like to know”

Dalton sat up facing Y/N “It’s nothing like that, I promise” He gave her a little smile to assure her he wasn't lying.

“What is it then?” Y/N questioned again.

“Y/N, don’t worry about me” He said standing up and stretching his legs.

“Please don’t ask me to not worry about you when just last month you had one of those… demons inside of you or whatever”

“There’s a different reason why I’ve been losing my sleep, it’s not demon related” Dalton promised, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, I’m still your friend” Y/N stood up and carefully grabbed Dalton’s hand. She cared about him and she just wanted to make sure he was ok “You can tell me anything, even if it’s not demon related” She giggled.

Dalton looked at how their hands were touching and felt his face burning again. The reason he was feeling this way was pretty obvious, but he could never say it out loud. Dalton was a very shy person and he never really did anything about his crushes, he never bothered but Y/N… she was different. She was sweet, funny, talented, beautiful and the way she cared about her friends (especially about him) was admirable.

“Hey” Y/N snapped him back to reality, forcing eye contact “I understand if you want me to get out of your hair, but if you wanna talk I’m right here” She said giving him a comforting smile. He wanted to be honest but he was scared that a confession like this would ruin their friendship.

“I’m just- I’m really stressed with homework” He lied. Again.

Y/N knew he was lying, he wasn’t very good at it “Yeah, me too” She grumbled, dropping Dalton’s hand and sitting back down.

‘Coward’ Dalton thought to himself. Y/N returned her attention to the canvas she was working on, wondering how much time had passed since she got distracted.

“Are you hungry? We could take a lunch break” Dalton asked, sitting next to Y/N, desperate to change the subject.

“I’m ok, you can go get some tho” Oh.

Dalton was surprised at the attitude, she never really acted that way, not with him “Everything ok?” He questioned.

Y/N scoffed, but her eyes were still glued to the canvas. Suddenly the timer went off, making both of them jump and an unwanted line appeared under the brush she was holding “Fuck” Y/N said under her breath.

Dalton turned the loud timer off “Don’t worry, we will cover it up” He tried to make her feel better.

Y/N sighed “I’m sorry” She said as she put down the brush, Dalton wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for “I just get worried about you, I don’t want you to get hurt” Y/N went for Dalton’s hand again, this time intertwining their fingers.

Sometimes he thought Y/N felt the same way about him, and right now was one of those times. With a random boost of confidence, Dalton knew it was now or never.

After seeing no reaction, Y/N was about to drop Dalton's hand but he stopped her, holding her tighter “I like you” He blurted out. He could feel his heart rate get significantly higher when Y/N looked at him, seeing the surprised look on her face Dalton felt regret fill his body. He was even more nervous now, feeling his hands sweat wishing he never said that.

“What?”

“I- I’m sorry”

“You do?” Y/N still had that surprised look on her face, but her tone made Dalton hopeful.

“Yes” He smiled at her “I do, and I’m sorry if this makes things weird from now on but… I’ve been thinking about you a lot and I wanted to tell you” Dalton directed his attention at their hands, his heart was still racing and he knew for a fact his face was bright red.

“Dalton” Y/N whispered, cupping his face with her free hand forcing him to look at her again “I like you too”

“Really?” Dalton tried to hide his smile but failed.

“Of course I do” His smile grew bigger and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Good, cause I don’t think we could’ve finished this project on time if you had rejected me” They both laughed and finally relaxed for the first time today.

“Can I kiss you?” Y/N asked softly and out of nowhere, looking at his blue eyes anxiously waiting for an answer.

Dalton was speechless and his face was burning again “I’ve never kissed anyone before” He forced the words out.

“I thought you and Chris-”

“No” Dalton quickly interrupted her “She kissed me and it was only to get out of a weird situation, it doesn’t count”

Y/N gave Dalton a soft smile, without taking her eyes off of him “That’s ok, I just- if it’s ok with you-”

Before she could finish the sentence, she felt Dalton’s lips on her. His soft lips. For a second Y/N was frozen, but soon enough she was kissing him back, letting go of his hand and moving her own to Dalton’s long hair.

After a moment, Dalton pulled back and studied Y/N’s face “What now?” Y/N breathed.

“Now I take you out on a date”

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #insidious #insidious the red door #insidious 5 #ty simpkins #horror films #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert imagine #movies

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heartelysia · 4 months

Text

tomb for two

cr: lalalycheeee

"dance with me the gallowdance" ; in which you can't stand the mercenary but he's determined to change that.

cw ; special jill appearance, caught, semi-public sex, train sex, hatefucking/hate sex, rough, enemies to ?, forced eye contact, p in v, begging, coworkers to ?, viktor mikhail appearance

note ; another repost from my ao3! ill work on a new piece (soon) :3

you hated him. you hated - no, despised - everything that he had to offer. so your first meeting sure was unfavourable, even if you both were in the UBCS.

"did the UBCS really hire a mercenary captain?", you said, your usually soft voice carried a heavy weight of malice and disdain. Viktor chuckles, glancing at you as he notices the big change in your demeanour as Carlos' heavy steps echo in the barren train carriage.

the mercenary avoids your harsh glare, simply scoffing as he exchanges greetings with the captain. your ears perk up at the sound of softer footsteps approaching, slowing down as their boots hovered over the gap between the platform and train. you glance at the figure, a beautiful brunette girl who had blood splattered on her body with a few minor scratches.

you render their rather lengthy conversation out from your ears, the sound of feet scuffling from the next carriage of citizens filling your senses as your gaze stares intensely at the special tactics officer. raking your eyes up and down her, almost like you were trying to carve a mental image of her in your mind.

"hey y/n."

the husky voice rips you out of your trance, you glance over at the source of the voice, your captain. the older male flashes you a small smile, "go with carlos. you two need to learn how to bond anyway.", he said with the heavy accent everyone recognised him for. your face scrunches up into one of disdain as you begrudgingly sigh, pushing yourself off the walls of the train, you wouldn't want to disrespect your superiors anyway.

jill's eyes follow your movements curiously as you snatch a radio out of carlos' large hand and walking off first. captain viktor lets out a chuckle at your childish attitude before glancing at carlos, giving him an expectant look to go with you. carlos looks back at the captain, sighing softly as he leaves the train, tailing you close behind.

light huffs and desperate heaves for air echo in the chilling night, the cold breeze brushing against your bare skin causing goosebumps to form, the streetlamps on the main roads used to light up the area and now they were in ruins with flames to light the path instead. you place your hand over your knees, trying to catch your breath as silently as possible whilst a wave of infected stumbled past.

you grunt softly, clutching the cut in your thigh that had been slashed by an infected, almost immobilising you as it tore through your ligaments but not deep enough to completely neutralize you. "fuck-... can't we just take them on? we both know we can.", you grumble whilst wincing in pain just a bit, carlos turns around to face you, still slightly catching his breath before gently scoffing. "look at the state you're in. can't be loosing my favourite coworker now can i?", he mumbles, dragging his eyes up and down you, eyes landing back onto the wide gash.

"if i'm your favourite coworker, how about you help me out?", you quickly snap back, glaring daggers at him as you lace your voice with disgruntle and sarcasm. the mercenary softly chuckles before turning around and beginning to walk away, you sigh before clicking your tongue in annoyance. you two seemed to never pair well.

"come on, this way.", his gruff voice rings in your ear, you couldn't help but feel the burning agitation growing in your stomach as his very sexy voice ricochets off the walls of the alleyway the two of you were traversing through. you drag your feet towards him, following him from behind.

the walk back to the train station was oddly serene - well aside from the crackling of flames and the groans of infected - the air felt fresh, could you be going insane? possibly.

the mercenary leads you into the train carriage, patting at seat beside him as he pulls out a first aid kit. you glance between the seat and carlos before sighing to yourself and taking a seat, "wow. must be your way of helping me hm?", you sarcastically ask, deadpanning at the handsome man.

he simply laughs it off, pushing the hem of your shorts further up your thigh as he begins to disinfect and clean the wound. "i don't know much about first aid aside from basically training but this will have to do.", carlos softly murmurs, a surprising side of the mercenary. you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter despite the itching disdain you had for him.

you scoff, grabbing onto one of the poles beside the train seats, "fuck you mercenary. you're the bane of my existence.", you grumble, glaring down at the man patching you up. "is that a good thing?", you sigh at his response, simply not bothering to answer the mercenary.

as silence rolls over the two of you, carlos finishes patching your wound up, wrapping it once last time with a thick cloth. you quickly stand back up, getting used to the feeling of cloth against your thigh. in almost a blink of an eye, you feel the wind get knocked out of your lungs as your wrists are suddenly held together with your back against the cold wall.

"what the fuck-?!", you yelp, heart racing as you glare at carlos. "jesus christ! a little warning next time?", you huff, brows knitting together as you frown softly.

carlos smirks, his hands firmly holding your wrists against the train wall as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "sorry, darlin'... couldn't resist the temptation. you've got this fiery spirit that drives me wild.", he chuckles softly, his voice low and husky.

it felt wrong but so right at the same time, you couldn't help but melt into his grasp, all of the agitation from him slow dissipating. he wastes no time, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he presses his body against yours, trapping you against the wall once again. the mercenary's lips crash against yours, a passionate and hungry kiss, his tongue teasingly exploring your mouth as your fingers tangle themselves in his messy hair.

the mercenary slowly pulls away, you slowly catch your breath, panting softly as his hands roam your body, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin. his fingers trail along your curves, igniting a trail of desire in their wake. "fuck-... do you still want it?", he softly mumbles, his voice much softer as he checks in with you.

you nod, cheeks flushed with heavy breaths. you might not have said much but your eyes told carlos everything, every single filthy fantasy you've had. carlos grins, a glimmer of primal desire in his eyes as he watches your movements. "hold on tight then, 'cause I'm about to give you exactly what you're asking for." with a single swift motion, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as he positions himself between your thighs.

carlos' hand snake down to your pants, skillfully undoing the belt buckle with one hand as his lips latch onto the side of your neck. the mercenary pulls down your pants until they rest on your upper thigh, the material pressed up against his visible bulge. he quickly unzips his fly, pulling his cock out, the angry tip gently tapping his abdomen as it leaks beads of precum.

without any further hesitation, he thrusts into you with a forceful intensity, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the empty carriage. the rough friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation combining pain and pleasure in an intoxicating mix. carlos' grip on your hips tightens as he sets a relentless pace, his primal instincts taking over.

he doesn't hold back, each powerful thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the sound of your moans and his grunts fill the air, the raw intensity of the moment consuming both of you. carlos's free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, forcing you to peer into his eyes, "what happened to the bitchy attitude hm?.", he teases, his voice condescending his he ruts his cock into your tight cunt.

his hips slam into yours at a violent pace, the train seats squeaking with each sloppy thrust. the mercenary grunts against your skin, his brows knitting together as a string of moans and groans spill from both of your lips. with your back pressed flush against the cold train walls, his hands rest under your thighs, pushing his nails into your skin as it leaves small crescent markings of him.

your eyes trail down his arm, trying to resist the urge to throw your head back as you cuss him out, watching the way his veins bulge against his tight black shirt, his pants tossed somewhere else as hes lost in a trance. "fuck- fucking bitch... so much attitude but- but now, look at your slutty pussy sucking me in.", carlos groans, fighting back a cocky smirk as his hips rut into you at a feral pace, almost like hes trying to carve himself into your insides.

he releases a hand from your thighs, dragging his thick fingers from your ribcage to your tits, harshly pinching your nipple through your thin shirt as he tries to add a hint of pain to your sexual experience. you grit your teeth, glaring at him past the lustful gaze you have, "i-it fucking hurts-!", you hiss, hands shakily wrapping around his wrist. carlos scoffs, a hint of laughter in his voice as he jerks his hips into yours, his cock digging into your plush g-stop.

your hand instinctively pulls away from his wrist at the pleasure, your body writhing in lust as the man pounding your sopping cunt continues to toy with your sensitive bud, the coil in your tummy tightening. as the pleasure builds, carlos' rhythm becomes more erratic, his thrusts deeper and harder. his lips find yours once again, his kiss claiming and possessive, as if he wants to imprint himself upon you.

he continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more erratic, his own release building. the coil in your stomach suddenly comes undone, your walls clench around him, he groans loudly. the sound mixing with your cries of pleasure with the lewd noises of wet skin slapping. "fucking hell-... what a pussy," he growls, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and satisfaction. carlos' thrusts become more urgent, his own orgasm crashing over him as he spills his seed inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.

carlos softly sighs with relief as his cock spills his warm cum inside of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. as the two of your highs die down, he peers up at you. "are we good now...?", he asks, breathily chuckling. you simply scoffs, pressing a small peck on his cheek, "sure. we're even now.", carlos playfully rolls his eyes.

"the tension needed to be broke... but like this?"

a sudden voice breaks the comfortable quiet environment, both of your heads snap in the direction of the voice. "ugh... get a room for gods sakes..", the brunette grumbles, closing her eyes as she turns on her heels just to leave.

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveria x reader #carlos oliveria smut #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil 3 #re3 remake #re3 smut

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shelby-fangirl00 · 8 months

Text

Lie To Me-part two-(Irene (OC) x John Shelby x Tommy Shelby)

Summary: Irene has been seeing John Shelby for a year now on and off. In John's absence, Irene begins to feel a pull towards Tommy.

Warnings: (MINORS DNI, 18+) smuuuut, swearing, drinking, MMF (slightly))

The next few days, all I could think about was my night spent with Tommy. It was refreshing to not be constantly thinking about what John was up to. I was getting ready to close up shop at work with one of the tailors I worked alongside with. It wasn’t hard to find work near Small Heath a year ago, with my background in dressmaking. This small fitting shop on the outskirts of Small Heath was owned by an older man, Rory. He was the closest tailer to town. I offered him my services a year ago and we have been working together to help both men and women now. I love the work I do, even though it was a bit of a walk to get there every day.

I was sitting in the back work station alone, putting some finishing touches on an evening gown I had been working on for months now. It was a long and fitted forest green with golden lining. I held the dress up, marveling at the work I had done. Pulling my bottom lip in, I worried it wasn’t fancy enough for the socialite woman I was making it for. I decided to find Rory to ask him.

‘Roryyyyyy….’ I sang casually as I made my way to the front of the building, dress in hands. I waltzed into the main area, to find a much younger and dashing man instead. I gasped a bit in surprise, not expecting to see Tommy standing alone, hands placed casually in the pockets of his perfectly tailored gray suit. Rory must’ve left for the day it was getting dark soon.

‘Evening Thomas...’ I managed to squeak out as he smiled lightly a me.

‘What’s that you have?’ he asked gesturing to the long gown. I looked down and back at him. ‘Oh…a dress I’ve been working on forever. Supposed to be picked up in the morning…’ My voice trailed off as my eyes fell back down on the dress. I studied it a few seconds longer before looking back at him.

‘Want a second opinion?’ He asked, seemingly sensing that I was unsure of my work. I smiled walking closer to him. I laid the dress down on a longer table for him to examine. I watched as his eyes scrunched up and studied the dress. He let his fingers brush over the shimmery green fabric, looking back up at me with those sparkling eyes.

‘I hope whoever is wearing it paid you well enough. It’s very beautiful, Irene. Then again, I’m no dressmaker so my opinion might not mean much to you.’

My face bloomed with color at his approval and a wide smile crept up my face.

‘No, no it means a lot coming from you! Thank god, I’ve been in my head about it all,’ I giggled, grabbing the dress and placing it behind the front counter.

‘What’re you doing here anyways? I know you don’t come here for your fancy suites.’ I questioned, grabbing my jacket from behind the front door.

‘No, I don’t. I was coming to see you, actually.’ My heart was fluttering at this point. His eyes never wavered from mine as he spoke. I stood there at a loss for words.

‘Arthur is throwing Polly a birthday party as the Garrison tonight. I wanted to extend the invitation. Polly has always liked having you around.’ I nearly fainted. John would most definitely be there too. My mouth went dry but I tried to conceal my nerves.

‘I’d love to, thank you for thinking of me, Tommy.’

-------------------------------------

Walking up the cobbled sidewalks towards the Garrison, I clutched the small giftbox in my sweaty palms. It didn’t take long for me to hear the vibrato of instruments playing from inside. Muffled sounds of people yelling and laughing were nearly pouring out of the wide double doors. I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to be wearing, so I just wore a simple black dress that hugged my frame nicely and hung off my shoulders, exposing my neck and chest. A simple pearl necklace hung from my neck, accentuating my cleavage nicely. I chose to leave my hair down in its natural wavy state. My lips were covered in a light shade of red that matched my blushed cheeks.

‘Irene!’ A familiar feminine but strong voice yelled immediately after I entered the bright and lively bar.

I smiled wide as I drew her into a hug. “Happy Birthday! God, you look gorgeous in that dress!’

Her beautifully crooked smile made my heart swell. Her presence was always breathtaking. Her fire-red dress glimmered off of the twinkling chandeliers in the room.

‘Thank you, love! You look stunning, as always. I was so happy to hear from Tommy that you were coming!’

I smiled, handing her the small box I had been carrying. A red bow rested on top.

‘Oh, dear that was not necessary!’ Her laugh was cut off by a gasp when she opened the box. Resting inside was a sparkling hair comb that was studded in white rhinestones. I had stayed a little later at the shop after Tommy had invited me tonight. I decided to quickly make something small and elegant for Polly, something I knew she’d appreciate.

‘Did you make this?!’ I giggled and shook my head yes.

‘I’ll definitely have to keep this hidden from Ada, its beautiful! I hope it didn’t take up too much time?’ She asked me, concerned.

‘It was no trouble at all, Polly! Happy birthday again! I need to grab a drink, I’ll see you soon, yeh?’

‘You surely will, dear!’ She sang as she drunkenly but confidently pushed through the tall crowd of eyeing men.

I made my way past the lumps of people, finally making it to the end of the bar. I took my glass in hand and rounded back through the bar just to be shoved face first into John’s chest. His eyes were surprisingly bright with interest, not glazed over from drinking.

Instinctively, I smiled up at his dazzling features. His hair was slicked back, unmoving and a toothpick hung from the end of his splitting smile. There were so many people around that we were practically squished together. I was suddenly very aware of the height difference between us. I was nearly 5’2’’. He was looking down at me in a hungry way.

‘You look very handsome tonight, Mr. Shelby.’ I giggled as his greedy hands swiveled around my wide hips, squeezing all of me between his fingers in a way that might have been inappropriate in this crowded bar. I couldn’t care less. We rarely saw each other outside of my dark flat. I was practically melting in his strong arms, I loved that he was being affectionate in front of his friends and colleagues. It made me feel special, stupidly.

‘And you look good enough to taste, love.’ He whispered in my ear before planting a soft and quick kiss to the exposed skin on my neck. I was so responsive to him, it was embarrassing. I couldn’t help how my back arched towards him slightly; he was intoxicating to be around.

I attempted to laugh in order to play off how tightly wound up I was.

‘You’ll have to work for that from now on.’ I shot him a wicked grin before turning on my heels back to the bar. John was on my heels, though, which is what I wanted. Somehow, through the crowd of people, he jumped in front of me, stopping me in my path.

‘Listen, I tried to stop by. But I got stuck at the bloody fights with Arthur. He was so fucking drunk. I couldn’t leave him there alone. I would’ve stopped by if I could’ve.’ He said all this while holding his hands gently in mine. His eyes were waiting for an answer, to forgive him, like I always do so easily.

‘You could’ve told me that days ago.’ I sighed out.

‘Yes, I should’ve, but I’m an arse and didn’t. Forgive me?’ He pleaded, pouting his bottom lip out.

I took a sip of my drink before placing it back onto the bar, getting a good look at him now. I didn’t want to think about my complicated feelings for John or how he blew me off. The only thing I could think about was how badly I needed him to touch me. “Let’s have this conversation another time, yeh? I want to have fun tonight.’ You said before shoving a drink at him.

He studied me for a few seconds, before letting go of the protest in his mind. ‘Fine by me, love.’ He laughed before downing his drink.

An hour had passed and John couldn’t keep his hands off of me, which I didn’t mind. We sat at the bar and the conversation and jokes came naturally, like they always do. On the other side of the bar though, I could feel Tommy’s eyes watching me. Every time I looked up at him from the opposite end of the bar, his eyes were already on me. Shyly, I always looked away. But I was now several shots in. I didn’t want to admit that I liked his eyes on me. God what is wrong with me? I finally get John’s attention and now I can’t stop thinking about him and his brother?

John was shouting at the bartender about more shots and joking around with the other men sitting near us. I took the moment to lift my eyes up to meet Tommy’s, and I almost floated over to him before stopping myself. His intense stare never broke. He chuckled from across the bar as I instinctively nibbled my bottom lip at my wandering thoughts. God, what I would let that man do to me.

Breaking me out of my thoughts, I felt John’s warm hand slide up my thigh, eating me up with his eyes. My skin broke out in goosebumps and my breath hitched. I could still feel him watching us from across the room.

John’s eyebrows creased in question, until he found where my line of vision kept wandering off to. He shot a devilish look back at me.

‘Tommy told me about his little visit with you the other night.’ Shit. My heart fucking sank.

I sat there in silence, not knowing what to say in order to keep John from completely freaking out and causing a scene. I wondered why he hadn’t already if he had known Tommy came over,

To my surprise, he started to giggle, sensing the rigidness in my body. To my surprise, he lifted my chin up and planted a sweet but passionate kiss to my lips, knowing that his brother was looking. I couldn’t help the satisfied whimper coming from the back of my throat that only John could’ve heard. I was melting in his hands. He pulled back and smiled. ‘Stop worrying, Irene. You’re a free woman, you can do as you please…whether that’s me or my brother…or both of us.’

My hand clamped down on his thigh, squeezing it in comfort. ‘John…nothing happened with me and Tommy.’ He smiled down at me cheekily, already sensing the hesitation in my voice. He already knew exactly how I felt about Tommy.

‘That doesn’t mean you didn’t want something to happen. Doesn’t even mean it won’t happen eventually’ he leaned in to whisper, ‘Is that what you want, love? You want the both of us? It’s written all over you. You’re such a greedy girl.’ He giggled in a haunting way as his fingers brushed the exposed skin on my arm. The room seemed to spin and I couldn’t believe the words coming out of John’s mouth. I never would’ve expected John, the most possessive man alive right next to his brothers, would be ok with sharing.

‘What’re you two love birds whispering about?’ Tommy’s low voice boomed from behind us. My eyes shot up to meet his beautiful blue eyes.

‘Tommy! Perfect timing, brother. We were just talking about you.’ Tommy’s eyebrows curved in curiousity.

‘Yeh? What about me?’ He sat on the stool next to me, placing me right between the two of them.

‘I think Irene’s got a little crush on you!’ He yell-whispered to Tommy sarcastically across from me. I shoved his arm harshly to hide the glow on my cheeks.

‘Jesus John!’ I scolded, making the both of them chuckle in an eerily calm and collected way. Had they already talked about this together?

‘Is that true, Irene?’ Tommy laughed.

I shoved my face into my hands in embarrassment. “I’m not drunk enough for this.’ I sighed.

A strong hand found its way to the small of my back, making me straighten out. Only, the hand that was rubbing small circles into my back was Tommy’s, not Johns.

My eyes shot between the both of them in shock.

‘How about John and I walk you back home, hm? Is that ok with ya?’ Both of their eyes were planted on me, not bothering to notice the entire mob of people around us. My hands grew clammy and my red cheeks bled down my chest.

‘I’d like that.’

------------------

The walk back to my place was short. Full of constant laughter and chatter. John annoyed Tommy the whole way there and I couldn’t help but admire the way they bickered back and forth. I never got to see the two of them together like this, so playful. Tommy always had a layer of seriousness, but some of those walls seemed to crash down in John’s company. It was hard to be in a bad mood with him around.

As we approached the front door of my flat, I turned to face them, they both stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for me to speak. I had a feeling on how this night was going to play out and I couldn’t miss the opportunity. I didn’t want the night to end. I’d love to live in this tipsy and light state forever.

‘You’re coming inside, aren’t you? Or is it past your bedtimes?’ I giggled as I fiddled with the keys and doorknob.

John threw his head back and clutched the front of his coat dramatically. ‘Christ, I thought you’d never ask!’ He laughed before pushing past Tommy and through the front door.

All three of us sat around my kitchen table playing cards and drinking for a while. The tension would’ve been air tight if it wasn’t for John breaking the ice by making jokes all night. I couldn’t ignore all of the small touches both Tommy and John were giving me. Tommy’s hand would brush across my back occasionally, but nothing more. John was less subtle, sneaking kisses and sitting inches away from me.

‘I missed you this week, Irene.’ He sighed, leaning forward and pulling my chair forcefully in front of his. As soon as we were practically nose-to-nose, he enveloped me in a searing kiss. His lips moved slowly but no less passionate. His hands slid down my back slowly, stopping at my ass and squeezing lightly. I playfully pushed him off, laughing. Tommy was still seated beside me and John, watching.

‘John, don’t manhandle me in front of your brother, you’ll make him uncomfortable.’ I half-joked.

John threw his head back in laughter. ‘Tommy doesn’t get uncomfortable. I’m sure that’s the last thing he’s feeling right now.’

I looked back to Tommy who seemed even more angelic up-close. He had shed his jacket and was only in a white button down, his gun holster strapped around his shoulders and chest, showing how large this man actually was. I looked at him in question, never knowing what he was thinking.

‘Come here.’ He said in such a deadly tone that I could never disobey. I looked back at John for a reaction or some sort of protest, but there was none. In fact, he was silent. His eyes seemed to almost turn black as he watched me in anticipation.

I slowly stood up, walking a few steps to stand right above him. His dangerous star made me shiver. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be doing, just standing here in front of him. Sensing my nervousness, Tommy was level to my stomach. His eyes never left mine when he reached up to caress the skin under my dress. As his hand squeezed softly around me, he took note of the way my body relaxed.

Still sitting lazily in the chair from under me, he used his foot to kick my leg open. All in one motion, he grabbed my hips tightly, and led me to cradle his lap. I yelped slightly, not expecting this all to move so quickly, but I wasn’t upset about it. I was full of excitement which weighed out my nervousness.

I could hear John moving back and forth in his seat, but all I could focus on right now was how close my face was to Tommy’s. All of my senses were filled with him. I rested my hands on his shoulders as his hands slid up to cup my face before reaching up to kiss me. My body pressed into his chest, instantly feeling addicted to the taste of him and the feeling of his mouth on mine. Sparks shot through my body at every touch and every movement he made. His lips were soft and plump, fighting for dominance. Quickly, his tongue snuck its way into my mouth, teasing me slightly. A loud moan crept up my throat and I could feel Tommy smirk into the kiss, satisfied with the effect he had on me. His hands slid up my back to unzip the back of my dress.

All too quickly, Tommy pulled away, leaving us both breathless. His eyes were wild and full of desire. I smiled down at him before he spoke. ‘How about we make John watch us play as a punishment for neglecting this needy body.’

I heard John chuckle eerily from behind us. I turned my head around and raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

‘No fair! I don’t get to play?’ He whined childishly.

‘I told you that you’d have to work a little harder from now on.’ I teased at him.

He slouched back in his chair, spreading his legs a bit farther apart, giving me a challenging look. Finally, he nodded to me in a sort of agreement.

‘Irene.’ My name coming off Tommy’s lips like this almost put me in a trance. I would do anything he wanted when he said my name like that.

I stood up, leading Tommy to my bed which was only a few steps from where John was in my tiny flat. As I plopped down, John scooted his chair in the direction of us.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ He sat beside me on the bed, squeezing my hand lightly.

I shook my head a bit too eagerly. ‘I trust you.’ His lips crashed back into mine. I was still aware of John’s eyes watching us and the small sounds he was making from his chair.

Tommy’s hands brushed down my skin as he pushed the rest of my unzipped dress down. Tommy eyed every inch of exposed skin.

He pushed his holsters off his shoulders swiftly, tossing them the floor. My hands greedily unbuttoned his shirt to expose his tight chest that was sprinkled in small scars and a couple tattoos I didn’t know about.

My hands fell into his soft hair as he inched down my body, not hesitating when pushing past the fabric covering my pussy. Completely naked now, he pushed my thighs apart, letting both himself and John get a view of my pussy. I felt so vulnerable and so exposed to both of them, but the nerves quickly left as Tommy’s head lowered between my legs, letting his fingers graze down my slit. He dipped his finger into my tight hole, collecting the slick wetness into his finger. He watched my face methodically as he sucked the finger into his mouth.

‘She tastes so sweet, doesn’t she?’ John said huskily as he began to fidget with his zipper, struggling to not stroke himself off.

Tommy’s eyes were focused on me when he spoke next. “Sweeter than I ever imagined.’

Tommy leaned over my body, pushing his lips onto mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue. I inhaled sharply at the contact. My hands shot to his pants, quickly fumbling with the zipper. I wrapped my hand around his throbbing cock, pulling it free. He grunted loudly, giving me a boost of confidence.

‘Are you ready for me?’ He whispered in my ear, setting me on fire again. I needed him inside of me now.

‘Please, I need to feel you, Thomas.’ His face softened instantly for a few quick seconds at the use of his real name. He lined himself up with my entrance, staring into my eyes with such passion that I’d never seen before. Pushing his way inside me slowly, he hissed, but his gaze never wavered. He pushed deeper and deeper until bottoming out with a small whimper that made me tighten around him. I felt so full, but in the best way possible. His lips hovered over mine as his forehead fell onto mine. He adjusted to the tightness of me before moving again.

‘Christ, you feel incredible.’ He said, finally pulling all the way out and pounding back inside of me over and over again, make me gasp for air. Lost in the sensations, I wrapped my legs around his waist, clawing lightly at his muscular back. Finding my center, I peeked over at John, who was now standing to get a better look at me. He was stroking his cock in time with Tommy’s thrust, chest heaving up and down frantically.

Reality suddenly set in as I watched John, thinking he might hate this. Would he be upset with me for this later? Am I betraying him like this?

Tommy must’ve noticed my body’s rigidness and the nervous look on my face. He pushed my face back under him, holding my head in place with both his strong hands as he fucked me so gently now. Each gentle thrust helped me fall farther into the moment with him. I relaxed around him finally, allowing him to move a bit faster.

‘You’re doing such a good job, love. Focus on me, yeh? Make him pay for not worshipping this beautiful pussy.’ God, I couldn’t deny how sexy this was.

His thrust were slow and deep now, drawing every moan out of me for Tommy to devour. My hips started to meet his in a steady rhythm, fucking myself up into him. My hands were everywhere, falling down his chest and caressing back up to his pretty face panting over me. His breath held a strong scent of whiskey, sending my head spiraling.

‘Does my cock feel better than his? I know it does. Tell me how good I feel inside you.’ He said in a slightly submissive and approval seeking way, whispering so that I was the only one to hear him. I couldn’t deny that this felt so much different than with John. This was all so unfamiliar and exciting. Tommy had a way about himself that I couldn’t explain.

‘God, you feel amazing in me Tommy. I feel so full of you.’ I panted into him, only for his ears to hear. A small chuckle escaped him and he pressed his lips onto my neck again. I turned to face John who was about to come undone.

Before I could think, Tommy pulled me up to his chest before flipping me over, so that I was on-top of him. He looked stunning laying underneath me like this. His eyelids were heavy and his chest was heaving up and down. It started to feel like it was just Tommy and I here alone in my room.

I pressed my hands firmly into his chest as I fucked myself down on his dick. I threw my head back and focused on my movements. I was bouncing up and down so harshly, each time I moved down, a loud grunt left Tommy, edging me on. His hands grabbed firmly onto my hips and he fucked up into me so much more harshly. I gasped, mouth hanging open and unable to move. Each time his cock shot up into me, I came closer and closer to the edge of my building orgasm.

‘You’re close?’ He panted out, redirecting my attention on his angelic features. I shook my head yes, unable to form words right now. His hand moved down in-between us, rubbing fast and tight circles into my clit. I clamped my eyes shut, trying to contain the building pressure. I was a total goner now.

I felt his soft hands gently brush across my face, making my lids flutter open.

‘I am too. Come for me, love. Can you do that?’ He said, still fucking my core relentlessly.

‘Yes, Tommy…I’m gonna come…’ I moaned out loudly before the flood gates broke open. My mouth hung in a silent cry and my hands clawed down his chest. I came so hard around him black spots clouded my vision. My entire body slowly lit on fire, every inch of my body shaking with pleasure. I came harder than I ever have in that moment. Tommy lifted my ass up with his hands and fucked me through the extreme pleasure. His thrusts became sloppy as his orgasm followed close behind mine. With a few final thrusts, I watched his face contort and then finally relax completely as his hot cum filled me up completely, spilling out the sides of me. I might become obsessed with this expression. After what felt like minutes of whimper and moans of bure bliss, I laid my head on his chest, still buried onto his cock. I felt him twitch inside of me as I tried to catch my breath. His hands rubbed up and down my back lightly, reminding me that we had company here still. It was so silent, the only sounds that filled the room were the panting coming from me and Tommy. He stared up at me in awe, giving me the softest smile that made me melt. I never wanted him to leave my bed.

Finally, I moved off of him, falling to his side and turning to look at John who was fully clothed again, looking a bit pissed off. I hadn’t even known he had came and recomposed himself all while we were fucking. Did I not hear him at all?

‘If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed you two were in love. The fuck was all that about?’

Taglist: @lyarr24

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#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby smut

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bluejaysandblackbats · 29 days

Text

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 5/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Five: Blackout

A few months later, Barbara let Jason go off to the park and play across the street. She worried about him being alone, but she had to remind herself that he was used to being on his own. "Where's your partner in crime?" Max asked. Barbara looked up from the cart. "Jason? You know, the little guy, dark hair, blue eyes—."

"Yeah, he's at the park—." Someone ran into the library and announced a fight. Barbara followed the girl outside and across the street to the park where Jason fought another boy. Jason was on top of the other boy, punching him, and he never heard Barbara call for him. She pulled him off of the other boy and dragged him aside.

"Jason, stop!" Barbara yelled, and Jason wriggled loose and lunged at the boy a second time. "Jason!" She grabbed him by the back of his collar.

"Gun," Jason panted as he pointed to the other boy, and Barbara let him go and looked around. She got up and took a pen from her pocket to pick the gun up. Jason lay back on the pavement and closed his eyes. His face was all bruised and bloodied from fighting. "Barbara, I'm sorry—."

"Don't be... You did the right thing," Barbara replied as she used her free hand to call Jim. Jason felt a wave of guilt wash over him for what he did despite Barbara's words. Barbara hung up, and she walked over to Jason and crouched down. "I'm not mad at you..." She slipped her phone into her pocket, and out of concern, she nudged him.

"Mama's boy!" one of the children teased. Jason didn't react.

"Shut up! And I'm not his mom! I'm his sister," Barbara snapped. Jason sat up and looked at her. She hadn't realized what she said, but Jason did.

They waited until Jim came and took the gun in, and Jason blanched as soon as he saw Jim approach. "I didn't mean to. I know it was—."

Jim picked him up off of the ground, and Jason tensed up and shut his eyes. "Are you okay?" Jim asked. Jason nodded. "I've got my first aid kit in the car. Come on." Jim put him down and took him by his wrist to the car. It would've worried him to have anyone else grab his wrist like that, but he realized Jim didn't plan on hitting him. Jim just wanted to help. They sat in the backseat with the door half-open, and Jim wet a napkin outside the car. He cleaned Jason's face, and Jason tensed. "That hurt?"

Jason shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really am. I wasn't trying to start trouble. I just saw he had—. He was asking for trouble. He really was," Jason whispered as Jim held Jason's face still.

"You could've gotten yourself killed... But your heart was in the right place," Jim replied. Jim put a little vaseline on Jason's cuts and scrapes before bandaging him up and checking his hands. "You really okay?"

Jason sniffed. "I don't wanna cause any trouble. You've been good to me. You've been a good Pop—." Jason stopped speaking, and Jim smiled and messed up Jason's hair. "You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. I was more worried than anything. I know you're a good kid... Do you want to come back with me? Or do you wanna stay with your s—. With Babs?" Jim asked. Jason hesitated.

Barbara walked over and stuck her head in the door. "You should go with Dad," Barbara whispered.

"Are you mad at me?" Jason asked. Barbara shook her head.

"I just don't want any of the kids bothering you. Besides, I think Dad's jealous that you go to work with me all the time," she joked. Jim nodded, and Jason agreed to go with Jim.

On the way to the station, Jason started feeling a little sick to his stomach, and he asked Jim to pull over. "Wanna go home?" Jim asked. Jason shook his head and waited for the feeling to subside. "You know, you can call me Pop if you want to. I know it's probably a weird subject for you, so we don't have—."

"I'd like that, Pop," Jason whispered. Jim smiled and rested a hand on the back of Jason's head. Jason relaxed. He knew that everything was okay.

He closed his eyes, and Jim nudged him. "Hey, did you hit your head out there?" Jim asked. Jason shook his head. "You sure?" Jason nodded. "Okay." Jim took a deep breath and let Jason go to sleep.

When he got to the station, Jason awakened with a sharp inhale. They went in, and Jason sat on the couch in Jim's office. "Who's the little fella?" an officer asked.

"This is my boy, Jason," Jim replied, and when he looked to introduce Jason to the officer, Jason lay fast asleep on the couch. "He was at the park just a minute ago."

"Well, I'm making a lunch run real quick. Want anything?" the officer asked.

"Two of those new burgers from across the street and fries. No sodas," Jim replied as he gave the officer cash. After he left, Jim called Barbara, and they had a short conversation about what happened.

"It was like he couldn't hear me. Is he okay?" Barbara asked.

"He's fine. He's all tuckered out, but he'll be alright," Jim answered, and Jason mumbled something before sitting up. "I'll see you at dinnertime." Jim hung up and took his glasses off. "You can sleep if you want. You don't have to stay up."

Jason sat up all the way and looked at Jim. "Did I do something wrong?" Jason asked. Jim shook his head. "I know I should've—."

"You're alright," Jim reassured him, "What happened?"

"He was messing around, pointing it at kids, so I hit him... We fought, and he hit me a couple of times—. I shouldn't have gotten so mad," Jason stopped himself. "Barbara," he whispered as he realized what she'd seen.

"She's alright... Jason, you did—."

The officer came back with Jim's food and his change. Jim thanked him, and the second the man left, Jim opened the bag and gestured for Jason to come and sit with him. "You were doing the right thing. You just have to work on controlling your temper under pressure, that's all... But you aren't in any kind of trouble," Jim added. Jason opened his burger and started eating.

Once Jim started eating, Jason asked, "Did Barbara sound mad?" Jim shook his head. "You sure?"

"Eat your fries. If Babs was mad at you, she would've told you that," Jim replied, "Besides, I think we were both more worried about you than anything."

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heartbreakgrill · 1 year

Note

soo, i've an idea for an one shot if you would like to write it.

I was thinking about a Pedro Pascal x reader where the reader is making dinner while is listening some music, and it comes Pedro that wants to "help" them, but the two end up dancing and singing instead of cooking or something like that; yk just Pedro being all flirty and cheesy as always.

Idk if that sounds good but that's what i was thinking about.

dancing in the kitchen; pedro pascal.

a/n: i really hope you enjoy! not super long, but very fluffy <3

"what's on the menu this evening, esposa?"

pedro's voice from the doorway caught your attention. you looked up from the recipe your phone, focused expression growing into a grin.

"hi, baby," you replied as you set down your phone and shuffled over to him.

pedro slid his arms around your waist, and yours came to rest over his shoulders, fingers tugging at the hair curling down his neck. pedro pushed into you, bending you backwards with kisses to your neck, face, hair. you giggled into his shoulder, pushing back until you were straightened in the air.

"stooooop," you complained, though you didn't actually mean it.

pedro groaned in satisfaction that he had you back in his arms. "never! i missed my beautiful woman."

after all these years together, you couldn't help but blush. "oh, i missed you too, baby. however, my stomach is already screaming at me, and i've got to get this recipe going."

pedro squeezed you tighter to his chest, pressing another kiss to your forehead. then, he left you go, "alright, alright. i'm gonna go get showered."

"good, you stink," you jested and poked his side.

pedro gave you a warning look, finger pointed towards you. "watch it, esposa."

raising your hands in a playfully defensive stature, you giggled again, before turning back to the counter. you heard him shuffling up the stairs as you refocused on the recipe.

with a shuffle to your playlist, you began gathering the ingredients needed. just when you finished chopping up the vegetables needed, pedro padded back into the kitchen, shaking out his wet hair with his hands.

you grinned, “feel better?”

“i do,” he rounded the kitchen island, socks shuffling against the floor, and wrapped his arms around you. pedro nuzzled his nose into your neck, peppering kisses to your skin. cornered against the counter, you shoved all of the vegetables into a bowl.

“honey,” you whined and pushed your back begrudgingly against his chest. “i’ve gotta get this going.”

“here, let me,” he quickly took the bowl from you and placed himself at the stove.

“no, go relax!” you turned after him in an attempt to steal back the bowl.

pedro held it above your head, wagging a finger in your face. “i don’t think so, pretty girl. go work on something else.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes. before you could walk away, he grabbed the waistband of your apron with two fingers, tugging you back against him.

he smashed a kiss against your cheek, and you giggled at the ticklish display. pedro squeezed you, tight, and let you go. you did as he said, working on another portion of the food, swaying the music playing on your phone.

pedro sang under his breath from his station at the stove. you hummed, too, more so focused on your dancing. soon, his voice carried closer to you, “yeah, get it, mama!”

his chest pressed against your back, and he swayed side to side with you, singing loudly. you giggled and your head landed on his shoulder. he peered down at you and sang sweetly, pointed finger keeping your chin back.

you let go of the spoon in your hand, grabbed his, and kept dancing. pedro spun you around to face him, pulled you close. he held your waist, and your other hand, while your other landed next to your chin on his shoulder. pedro’s left leg intruded your own, ensuring your hips stayed on his, as you moved side to side.

you laughed as his terrible singing filled the kitchen. soon, the song trailed off. you thought you were done dancing until your guys’ favorite slow song ramped up. pedro pulled you back against him, a happy grin growing out of his surprise.

“oh, esposa,” he murmured.

you giggled, pulling your head back to look at him, “what?”

“i just can’t wait to marry you,” he shrugged, a silly expression on his grinning face.

you blushed, deeply, “well, what are you waiting for?”

pedro tugged you back to him, a pep in his step. “oh, just wait. i have…plans.”

the oven started beeping then, and you stepped away from one another to plate dinner. as you were sitting down at the table, glass of wine to your lips, you hesitated from taking a drink.

you looked to pedro, drawing your brows together, “why haven’t you ever said anything?” pedro stabbed a piece of broccoli and paused before it reached his mouth. you continued, “ i mean, i’ve always known. but…we’ve just never realistically talked about it.”

pedro shrugged, a nonchalant frown on his face, “i call you esposa everyday. and it means wife, so…it was always realistic to me.” you sat there stunned, a pleased smile on your face.

it was always realistic to you, too.

#pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal x oc #pedro pascal x you #pedro #pascal

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padfootagain · 2 months

Text

Where We Kept Our Magic (IV)

How We Parted

Hello lovelies! Here is a new part for my Muggle!Reader AU!! I hope you like this new scene, tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Warnings: it’s a little sad :(

Summary: You and Sirius meet when you’re still young, and yet you fall head over heels for each other. But everything gets complicated when you learn that Sirius is a Wizard! Now, your whole world has to be reimagined. -This series is made of many independent snippets taken from Sirius and Muggle!Reader’s lovestory –

Word Count : 1792

The weather isn’t so warm anymore. September is upon you and with it, a cool breeze has settled over London. The trees remain green and lush for now, but you know they will soon colour themselves in warmer tones, before letting their leaves fall.

Sirius is lying in the grass, by the Serpentine. His head on your laps, he lets you run your fingers through his hair, heaves a content sigh at the soothing feeling. It’s a quiet afternoon, or perhaps it’s only getting late, and families are home already. But Sirius has no intention to move. After all, you’re here, with your fingers in his hair, why would he want to leave?

Besides, tomorrow morning, he’ll go King’s Cross station, run through a wall and board the Hogwarts Express. And then he’ll be off, just like that. Just like that…

He doesn’t see how this can work. How can he even write to you? He can’t use an owl… Euphemia and Fleamont have offered to go the post office, but Sirius is reluctant. He doesn’t want to bother them…

Still, he doesn’t want this to end. He likes you. An awful lot. Actually, he’s starting to truly fall for you, all the way down towards love, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud or to even think of the word. It’s too hard for him. After living with his family, love is too close to hatred for him to look at you and think of that word. After all, there isn’t an ounce of hatred in his heart targeted towards you.

Anyway, this is not the point. The point is that he’s about to leave for Scotland, and you won’t. The point is that he has no clue how to contact your properly. He’s given you a fake address that will lead to the Potters’ house so you can write to him, but again, he doesn’t want to bother them. He bothers them enough already…

“What’s going in this busy head of yours, honey?”

Honey. You’ve started calling him that about three weeks ago, and he adores it. It sounds so sweet, so much like you in your yellow sundress. So unlike him, in his dark t-shirt and heavy boots. So unlike him, with his name tainted with night…

Sirius merely hums in response, closing his eyes again, the leaves of the oak tree you’re leaning against disappearing beyond his eyelids. You don’t let him get away with it so easily though, he’s almost endeared by it. He would have been, any other day, if the wait of separation wasn’t so heavy on his heart today.

“Sirius? You’re alright?”

He shrugs. He knows he’ll give up in a few seconds, your fingers are too gentle as they get lost in his hair, your warmth too soothing.

He looks up at you again. He’s put his leather jacket on your shoulders about half an hour ago, before he lied down, because he noticed you were shivering. You look adorable. You look beautiful. He never wants this to end. He wants to keep his jacket on your shoulders forever…

“Just… a little sad that I’m leaving,” he admits. “Which is weird, cause I’ve always been eager to go to Hogwarts before.”

You nod, a small smile on your lips.

“Is it because of me?”

“Who else could it be? Certainly not because of Jackie, she’s insufferable.”

“You like her. And she likes you too.”

He can’t refrain a smile at that. He’s surprised when one of your hands leaves his hair to reach for his fingers instead.

“I don’t want us to break up,” you admitted, earnest and suddenly vulnerable, perhaps more so than what you intended.

“Me neither.”

“I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you to come back. It’s only a few months before Christmas. Besides, I’ll write to you, daily if you miss me too much.”

Your tone is teasing, but Sirius winces, and your heart shudders at the sight, a crack runs through the porcelain of it, ready to break altogether.

“You don’t want me to write to you?”

You see Sirius hesitate, and you hate it. And he knows you hate it. It hurts him too.

“I want you to write to me,” he finally answers, after a rather long pause, choosing his words carefully. “But you can’t write directly to my school, it won’t work. And I don’t want to bother the Potters too much…”

Slowly, you nod.

“I see. I understand. Perhaps… not too often?”

Slowly, he nods. He looks worried now, sad even. And he is.

You run your thumb across his knuckles, the tip of your fingers grazing his silver rings, the metal cold against his warm skin.

“They’ve already taken me in after I ran away last summer… I don’t want to be a burden.”

Slowly, you nod. You don’t ask anything, even if Sirius guesses that questions are burning on the tip of your tongue. But you don’t ask. About his family, about why he ran away… you never do. And he’s grateful for it, but sometimes he wonders why you don’t.

Are you afraid? Or simply kind?

He sits up without warning, and his back is almost to you now. He heaves a sigh, putting even more distance between the two of you, and you hate it.

Still, you don’t ask.

His eyes drift towards the river, towards the dirty, muddy water filled with lost feathers. A group of swans swims away, without taking a single look back.

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re okay?”

“Of course.”

A pregnant pause. An expectation. You take him aback with your statement.

“I don’t want you to leave. I’ll miss you.”

The ghost of a smile grazes his lips, he reaches for your hand, but doesn’t turn to you for now.

“I’ll miss you too.”

His hold is a little too tight, you know he’s holding back. You’ve grown used to it. Gently, you splay a hand across his spine, the fabric of his t-shirt soft under your palm despite the dust and the dry grass that have clung to the material here and there.

“Please, don’t hold back,” you ask so gently, Sirius’s eyes fill with tears. “It’s our last afternoon together before Christmas. Don’t hold back. What’s bothering you?”

He clears his throat, the tears gone, replaced by a tightly set jaw.

“You never ask.”

“What do you mean?”

“You never ask about my family.”

You shrug.

“I know that it’s difficult for you to talk about it. I reckon… that you’ll tell me more about it when you’re ready. I don’t want to push you, if you’re not ready.”

At long last, he turns to look at you again, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, anyway…

He hesitates before speaking again. Because it sounds silly. He reckons you won’t understand. And it would hurt a lot more than he can admit. But there’s a weight on his heart, and he wants to lift it, even if it can’t last for long.

“I’m going to see my brother at Hogwarts.”

“Regulus?”

He nods.

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” he confesses. “I miss him. But… I also hate him.”

“Do you hate him? Are you simply angry?”

He considers the question. It’s a little too accurate, and he smiles.

“Yeah… I think I’m angry. I’m angry he chose to stay. I’m angry I can’t protect him anymore. I’m angry he doesn’t have the guts to break free. I’m angry he’s uncertain about my parents beliefs.”

“But you still miss him.”

“Yeah… yeah, I miss him.”

He sets his gaze on the river again, lets go of your hand to wrap his arms around his knees.

“The first time I took the train, my mother was so proud. And I both loved it and hated it. And I think… I’m angry because it didn’t really change. I don’t believe in any of the conservative bullshit my parents are so adamant to defend, and I’ll never forgive them for how much they hurt me and my brother. And yet I… every time I get on that train I see my mother’s face beaming at me and looking at me as if I was the most extraordinary thing in the world, and I long for this feeling again.”

He heaves a sigh.

“I want you to write to me. But the Potters… they didn’t have to take me in, and they did. I don’t want them to regret doing that.”

“I’ll write to you once a month. Would that be alright? That’s not too often.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Okay, I’ll wait for your letter, and I’ll reply.”

“Okay.”

He’s surprised when you wrap your arms around him from behind, when you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade. He loves it though. He feels soothed all over again, his busy mind quietened again. The face of Walburga disappears, and the muddy water is back instead, with its white swans almost disappearing now, in the distance.

“Why do I miss them, when I hate them?”

You tighten your hold on him before you answer.

“They raised you. They loved you, even if it hurt. They taught you how it is to be loved first. You have to rewrite that definition, with better people, better examples. But they’re still your family, even if they hurt you. Your mother still looked at you with pride that day, even if she hurt you only a few hours before. It’s not black and white, like everything else in life. I reckon… it was so familiar a feeling, such a mingling of pain and love, you can’t really tell them apart anymore. Am I wrong?”

Sirius shook his head, stunned.

“I don’t dare asking you questions about your family, because I know it hurts,” you go on, your tone infinitely kind. “But I still care. Do you understand? I care about you, about who you are… I just… don’t want to hurt you. But you can tell me about it whenever you feel ready, okay? I’m… it’s not disinterest, it’s just… caution.”

Slowly, he nods.

“Thank you.”

He holds your hands in his, twisting his neck to press his temple against your hair, closing his eyes.

And his gratefulness tastes like love, but he’s not ready to admit it. You’re right, he needs to redefine the word, before speaking it again, and aim it at you.

When he kisses you, a few minutes later, it tastes like goodbye, but it’s not as sad as you expected it to be. And when he tells you he’ll wait for you, that he’ll wait for Christmas, that you can count on him, it’s easy to believe him…

#sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black series #series #hp fanfiction #hp #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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stardustbarbarians · 4 months

Text

Why'd You Go?

A Sequel to Dial Drunk

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Tags: angst, almost fluff (Danny takes care of Sam), making amends

Trigger Warnings: alcoholism, blood/injury, vomiting, fighting, implied drunk driving, referenced car accident

Words: 4.4 k

A/N: This is for @runwayblues specifically and also that anon who asked about a part two. I love you both <3. Cover made once again by the wonderfully talented @ofthecaravel. Title taken from Orange Juice by Noah Kahan, or my favorite Noah Kahan song. Also yeah this is riddled with angst and I'm not sorry. But enjoy! <3

+++

Feels like I've been ready for you to come home for so long

The ride from the Sheriff’s Station was tense, filled with nothing but silence. Though Sam knew to keep his mouth shut and attempt to stay Daniel’s anger, he still couldn’t help but smile as he sat beside him. His batshit, backwards, insane plan of getting Daniel to talk to him again had somehow worked in his favor.

Periodically, Daniel would glance over at Sam. And every time that happened, his frown would deepen as he took in the sight of Sam’s saccharine grin. But he never commented on it. Instead, the pair remained silent as they drove on through the night, nothing but the sound of the rain pelting the windshield filling the vacuum of voices.

Sam hadn’t even realized they had pulled up to Danny’s house until the latter had gripped his steering wheel so tight his knuckles bleached of color. He couldn't see it, but the man was gritting his teeth fiercely as well, but he’d realize as soon as Daniel spoke.

“How drunk are you,” he growled through his teeth, not even bothering to look over in Sam’s direction. He kept his gaze locked so intensely at the rain slithering down his windshield, Sam irrationally believed that it would start boiling.

“What?” he dumbly asked, feeling like his brain was swimming in molasses.

With a measured, yet heavy breath through his nose, Daniel asked again.

“On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you?” It was spoken so slowly, each word deliberate and pointed like he was speaking to a toddler. Which, to be fair, Sam was acting like one.

Taken aback by Daniel’s malice, Sam blinked a few times as he took in the sight of his ex. Danny was still pointedly looking in the exact same spot he had been, his nostrils flared and the steering wheel creaking beneath his grip. It was dead silent, save for the windshield wipers squeaking against the glass every second that passed. That was how Sam knew it took him ten seconds to respond.

“I guess an eight and a half…” he slurred, already regretting consuming as much tequila as he had. If he closed his eyes for too long, his head would spin worse than that fair ride that pinned you against the wall as it twisted around.

Daniel’s sigh was heavy as he bonked his head against the steering wheel. Sam thought he heard Danny muttered a “god help me” under his breath before turning the car off and throwing his door open. The rain was incredibly louder outside. Before Sam even fully registered what happened, his door was being opened and his seatbelt became unbuckled.

“Let’s go,” Danny barked, wrapping Sam’s arm around his shoulders and slamming the car door closed with his foot.

Sam didn’t say anything, able to ascertain how bad Daniel’s mood was even through his alcohol muddled brain. But he couldn’t keep that stupid grin from his face. This scenario was bringing up a lot of past memories of the two of them going through nights just like this one where it would end with them both satiated sexually.

And then Sam was rudely thrown out of his reminiscing when Daniel all but tossed him against a brick wall so that he could unlock his front door. And due to that, Sam felt the scrape on his arm reopen.

Before Sam could say anything about it to Danny, the drunken idiot was being tugged inside and manhandled into a seat so that the sober man could take off his shoes. It was probably the most aggressive Daniel had ever taken care of Sam, and frankly, Sam didn’t understand what he’d done to deserve that.

“Dan, are you maaaaad at me?” Sammy asked, whining like a child. Without really meaning to, he also flashed the man his puppy dog eyes.

All he got in return was a scowl.

“Did you really just ask me that?” Daniel’s response was clipped, his tone laced with uncut rage just barely repressed for the sake of accommodating the stillness of the early morning hour.

“You’ve been angry at me since you picked me up from the station and I deserve to know why,” Sam demanded, attempting to sound as adult as he didn’t feel. Attempted to, anyway. He was way too drunk and his demand had come across as a child threatening a temper tantrum if he didn’t get his cookie.

For a moment, Daniel seemed as if he was going to answer that honestly, Sam noticing how his body was tensing up like it used to before he rose to Sam’s bait before one of their huge arguments. But then, like a balloon deflating, Daniel just cast his attention away from the drunken idiot and stood from his spot.

“It’s too early for this shit and you’re way too drunk for this,” he breathed, rubbing his temples with his fingers, “so lay down on your side and try to sleep. I’m going to leave my door cracked so I can hear if you throw up, but do not even think about going in there, you understand?”

Sam, not knowing anything Daniel just said at him, stared blankly at the sober man.

“Do you understand me?” Daniel asked again, clamping his hands on either side of Sam’s face so that he was looking Danny in the eyes.

“You’re so pretty,” Sam gushed. If this were a cartoon from the 60s, hearts would’ve been floating out of his head.

“You are fucking unreal,” Daniel spat in disgust, ripping his hands away from Sam’s face when the latter melted into his grip.

Able to recognize that Danny was leaving, Sam grabbed at his sleeve and tugged Danny towards him. “Noooooo, you’re not done taking care of meeeeeeee.”

Sam swore that he heard Danny growl under his breath before he turned to face Sam. If he hadn’t been so drunk, he might’ve jumped at the amount of annoyance and anger burning in Daniel’s eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Daniel hissed, yanking his arm away from the drunkard’s grip. Sammy was pulled forward just a touch before he let go of Danny’s sleeve.

“My arm! It’s all cut up and-” Sam made the mistake of glancing over to his actively bleeding elbow, a river of red sluggishly making its way down towards his hand. As he noticed how much blood was pouring out of his wound, he felt his stomach violently churn and lurch.

Suddenly, Sam felt his skin turn cold as bile began to climb its way up his throat. He clamped a hand over his mouth to ensure that he wouldn’t vomit all over Danny’s floor before he shot up from his spot in the chair. His eyes snapping open to the size of dinner plates, Sam ran for the kitchen sink. It was only a few paces away, but he still sent a prayer to whoever would listen that he made it.

The sound of his retching was disgusting to his own ears. Sam couldn’t imagine how vile it was for Danny who was stone cold sober. It wasn’t pleasant. He’d always hated throwing up, the way it would burn your throat and leave your teeth all gritty and coated in plaque. The taste was the worst part. Sour like the Devil and repulsive in the worst way. Liquor never tasted pleasant the second time around.

With a tremendous sigh Sam heard between bouts of sickness, Daniel walked over to the drunkard and gathered Sam’s long locks in his hand and stood by as Sam puked up the sorrows he attempted to drown. Sam noticed how he’d grimace with each retch, but he stayed put. And at one point, Danny even patted Sammy’s back when he moaned in absolute misery. Though, if Sam could see Daniel’s face, he’d have been able to see the exasperation written all over his features.

When Sam’s stomach stopped convulsing and forcing all of the tequila he drank out of him, he spit into the sink to attempt to rid his mouth of the horrible taste. Of course, it was no use and that godforsaken bitterness lingered. With another pathetic groan, Sam slowly pulled his head out of the sink. Daniel dropped Sam’s hair and turned the faucet on, spraying away Sam’s vomit from the stainless steel.

Sam, his head no longer spinning but feeling as though it was comprised of television static, sank to the floor as he leaned against the cabinet beneath the sink. He held his head in his hands and simply closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the water rather than his own shame. He didn’t know how long he had sat there like that before Daniel interrupted his pity party by handing him a glass of water.

“Stay there,” Daniel tiredly sighed before Sam heard him leave the room. The drunkard downed that water, saving the last gulp to swish it around in his mouth and spit it back into the glass before setting it off to the side.

Sam, not knowing what to do and simply wanting his misery to cease, began humming Old Man by Neil Young to try and calm himself. It was halfway through the first chorus that Daniel returned. He held a tube of toothpaste that was half empty, a toothbrush still in its packaging, and a white box with red letters nearly entirely rubbed off. Sam instantly recognized it. It was the first aid kit that Danny’s mom had given to him after he had cut himself while cooking and had no band-aids to speak of. She insisted that the two of them keep it when she showed up for dinner the next Sunday, Sam taking it from her because Daniel was stubborn about the whole affair.

After Danny had set the items on the counter, he kneeled down next to Sam. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Sam felt himself be hoisted to his feet by his not-bleeding arm. His wooziness returned as his blood rushed from his head, having to lean on the counter to stay up-right. He still had to keep his eyes closed lest he allow himself to be overtaken by his headrush. He heard Daniel ripping open the packaging of the toothbrush before poking Sam with it. Sam blearily opened his eyes before accepting the toothbrush and reaching over Danny to grab the toothpaste. Once Sam finished brushing his teeth, he held up his arm towards Danny who was holding a cotton ball and rubbing alcohol in his hands.

Sammy hissed in pain as Daniel wiped down Sam’s wound, seeing Danny roll his eyes from the coroner of his. Biting back the urge to call him out like he would’ve ten months prior, Sam simply let out a sigh. He thought Danny was being unnecessarily rough with him, but also knew making a comment would result in a fight. But then, thinking about it, anything Sam would’ve said probably would result in a fight.

With that thought, Sam realized how he felt significantly more sober than before he had thrown up. And here he was just thinking that was just a myth.

“Seeing blood has never made me throw up like that before,” Sam tentatively spoke, hoping to make some kind of conversation with Danny that wouldn’t cause a row. He watched as Danny threw one bloody cotton ball away before picking up another and pouring isopropyl on it.

“Well, drinking a bar dry of their liquor might have that side effect,” Danny spat, refusing to look at Sam.

Sam, forgetting himself, scoffed at the statement.

“That’s fucking rich coming from you.”

With that, Daniel finally looked Sam in the eye again. And Sam wished he hadn’t. Just like every other instance that night, Daniel’s eyes were burning with an unfettered rage. But, unlike the other times, Sam realized that Danny’s restraint had snapped.

“So that’s how this is gonna go, huh?” Daniel’s grip on Sam’s injured arm tightened; not enough to hurt but enough to feel it.

“You and I both know there was a point in time where you could drink me and an entire bar of drunks under the table,” Sam spat, each word forcefully delivered as he stared down his ex.

“That was a year ago, Sam!”

“Oh, so that makes you better than me, right?”

“I wasn’t the one tossed into the fucking drunk tank tonight, was I?”

Once again, Sam laughed bitterly. “Yeah. You’re right. You weren’t. Tonight, anyway.”

Sammy watched Daniel’s hand holding the cotton ball curl itself into a fist. He also watched as his jaw clenched in anger. Danny, before he could really get into his anger bred out of offense, took several breaths to center himself. Perhaps needing a distraction, Daniel went back to tending to Sam’s bleeding wound.

“You have no right to act all holier-than-thou with me, Daniel,” Sam hissed, gripping his free hand onto the side of the counter so hard his knuckles drained of color.

“Don’t you bring up my past-”

“Our past.”

“Right. Our past. You were right there next to me while we drank ourselves nearly to death. What’s your fucking point, Samuel?!”

Sam was gritting his teeth, his jaw going sore from the sheer force of it. “My point is that you can’t only blame me for what happened!!”

Danny ripped his hand off of Sam’s arm, the action making the drunk man’s skin throb. It only fueled Sam’s anger.

“I changed! The whole fucking town changed after that! You, Samuel, are the only one who didn’t!! Dont you find that fucking strange?? Or are you too busy trying to drown yourself in alcohol every night to fucking notice?!” Daniel cried, his tone beginning to border on hysterical.

“Oh, I am so sorry, your highness! I guess that I am the fucking problem!! It’s my fault, everyone, because you weren’t an adult responsible for your actions!!” Sam argued back rather immaturely, waving his arms around as he yelled.

“You know that last time I drank I ended up passed out, face down in the snow of our backyard. That was ten months ago,” Daniel growled, his hands curling into fists.

“Oh, so I’m just pulling you down, huh?! God, you always had to blame everyone else besides yourself,” Sam spat back.

Again, Daniel stopped. This time, it was right before he said something, his mouth poised open ready to strike. But, then he snapped it shut and closed his eyes again.

“Why did you call me, Sam? Why do you always call me?” The only way Sam could describe the look Danny was giving him was “wounded puppy”.

It was spoken so quietly, so frailly that it made the other pause. He was far from prepared for how the atmosphere had shifted on a dime. While Sam struggled to comprehend the change, Daniel finally finished cleaning and bandaging Sam’s wound, dropping his arm and shutting the first aid kit.

How could Sam answer that? With the truth?

I always call you because every minute that passes without you is pure agony for me. I call you when I’m drunk because I’m too much of a coward to do it in the light of day and sober. I only call you when I’m arrested because it’s the only good excuse I have to call you. I love you and I need you to come back, no matter how toxic what we had was.

When Samuel failed to answer and the oppressive silence of the darkened hours before dawn became too much, Daniel spoke again.

“What do you want from me?”

That… That was something Sam could answer.

“I want answers, Daniel.”

Danny let out a tired sigh at the statement, his eyes casting downwards. It was silent once more after that, only the sound of Danny’s nails nervously rapping on the counter filling the void of sound.

Sam counted. Two minutes had passed before he scrounged up the courage to speak again. It felt like a century.

“Why’d you go?”

Daniel turned his body away from Sam, placing both hands on the counter before him. “You know why.”

“No. I deserve better than that. You can’t just pick up in the middle of the night without a fucking word and expect me to be satisfied with ‘you know why’!” Sam felt his heart rate pick up as his anger spiked again.

“You would know if you ever paid attention to me,” Daniel growled under his breath, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenched it.

“Maybe if you hadn’t screamed at me every fucking night, I would’ve been more inclined to listen!”

That made Danny snap again, his palm slamming down onto the counter so hard that it rattled the rest of the house. With that, Sam took a step back involuntarily.

“IT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO GET THROUGH TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE TOO DRUNK TO STAND! AFTER-”

Daniel cut himself off, his words seeming to catch in his throat as his emotions changed from outraged to haunted in the blink of an eye. Instantly, Sam knew what Daniel was remembering.

Sam could hear them too, the sound of the tires screaming against the pavement as they braked too quickly, the glass shattering around them as Sam covered his neck to save it from the razor-sharp shards. The feeling of traveling in slow motion as the ice of the road sent them careening into a telephone pole to avoid the bright headlights speeding towards them head on. The sensation of no sensation in Sam’s right arm until he attempted to move it, and was suddenly overtaken by blinding pain. The wail he released at the agony sounding foreign to his own ears.

“I had to leave,” Daniel shakily finished, his hands quaking as he ran them over his face, “Being around… being around alcohol like that…”

At that point, Danny looked up at Sam, his eyes dripping with sorrow and repressed guilt. Sam felt tears of his own threaten to fall, his chest painfully twisting at the sight of his love in such turmoil. He felt especially helpless when Danny broke down into tears, folding in on himself as his shoulders began shaking.

Biting his lip and throwing caution to the wind, Sam took the steps to get to Daniel before wrapping his arms around the crying man. To his complete surprise, Danny leaned into Sam’s embrace and clutched at Sam’s still damp shirt.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam soothed, resting his head atop Daniel’s. He began running his hands over Danny’s back, praying it would offer any comfort to his ex.

“You weren’t the one driving,” Danny whispered between sobs.

“But I was the one who convinced you to go out drinking that night,” Sammy reminded, his guilt punching open a previously haphazardly bandaged bullet hole in his gut.

Danny remained silent after that, save for his sniffles.

“It’s just as much my fault as it is yours.”

“We were lucky no one died,” Daniel squeaked, his voice cracking halfway in. He burrowed deeper into Sam’s embrace.

“You were lucky you walked away without a scratch. I had to wear an arm cast for months,” Sam teased, even laughing weakly. Well, he attempted too, anyway. It seemed to only manage to make Daniel feel worse.

“I’m sorry-”

“I’ve already forgiven you.”

Another bout of silence permeated the air, this one much less tense, however. Sam, selfishly, was happy. He was finally holding onto Daniel again after almost a year of not even seeing him once. Not for lack of trying, of course.

“And, really, I should be the one apologizing to you.” Sam suppressed his very strong urge to kiss Daniel on his forehead, knowing it was inappropriate. But, damn, if he didn’t want to shower him in kisses until it got through to Daniel just how sorry he was for all the pain he caused him.

Daniel pulled away. And Sam, reluctantly, let him. The both of them wiped away their tears, their eyes casting anywhere that wasn’t each other. This was different from earlier where they feared looking at one another would result in a fist fight; this time around, it boiled down to awkwardness.

After a moment of wringing his hands, Daniel cleared his throat and made an aborted motion with his hand. “I’m… let me get you some dry clothes before you catch death.”

And with that, he disappeared down the hall. Sam, now alone with nothing but the darkness and his thoughts for company (both of which he despised), distracted himself by looking around Daniel’s kitchen for something to eat as his stomach rumbled. But as it clenched in phantom pain of how violently he had retched not even an hour earlier, he settled on finding something to drink.

Right as Sam finished pouring himself a glass of orange juice, Daniel returned with fresh clothes clutched to his chest. Without a word - despite him making a failed attempt at speaking - Danny simply handed them over to Sam.

“The bathroom is down the hall and to the right; first door,” Daniel informed, not able to hold eye contact with Sam for more than a second.

With a quiet “thank you”, Sam accepted the clothes and went off to change. He couldn’t help the wistful smile on his lips as he recognized the pair of sweatpants Danny handed him as an old pair of his own. He thought he’d lost them. After he pulled those on and an old t-shirt, Sam threw his wet clothes over the curtain rod so that they could dry properly. Taking a deep breath, Sam left the bathroom and went to face Daniel again.

“I wasn’t sure if they would fit,” Danny admitted, playing with the hem of his own sweatshirt.

“Y-Yeah, they fit well…” Sam nervously played with his hair, pushing it out of his face and tucking it behind his ears.

Once again, the air was permeated with an awkward silence. There was so much still left unsaid between the two. They both wanted to say so much, yet didn’t at the same time. More accurately, they didn’t know how.

Sam, his heart pounding harder than a war drum, was the first to speak.

“Is there any reality where I get to call you mine again?” Sam smiled nervously, the poor thing only lasting on his lips for a second before it fell.

That made Daniel look Sam in the eyes, clearly caught by surprise. Sam watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes darting away from Sam again.

“I… I don’t know. You haven’t seemed to grow or learn from our… the incident.”

“I’ll quit, I swear,” Sam quickly promised, taking a step towards Daniel in his haste to prove his willingness and eagerness. It seemed to be the wrong thing to do as Daniel reacted by taking a step backwards.

Judging by the other man’s reaction, he hadn’t meant to. But it was too late. Danny’s actions spoke louder than his words. Sam hung his head, dropping the hand he had reached out to his former partner.

“We weren’t good for each other, Sam.”

“Please, just give me one more chance. I promise I’ll be what you deserve this time around,” Sam begged, knowing that if he didn’t have that one last shred of dignity left, he would be on his knees before Daniel.

Still, Danny didn’t seem convinced. And Sam, knowing that he wouldn’t change Daniel’s mind that night, simply sighed and resigned himself to that.

“I know my behavior tonight or over the past few months proves nothing, so how about this. I get help and quit drinking; and if in three months I’m not sober or close to it, I leave you alone forever. I want to prove to you how much you mean to me, Daniel. Please give me the chance to do that.” Sam was trying his absolute best to try and catch Danny’s eye, achieving his goal at the last moment.

Sam felt studied beneath Daniel’s watchful eye, his very soul being peered into by that amber gaze. After what felt like an eternity, Danny seemed to come to a conclusion.

“I’ll help you.”

“W-What?”

“If you really mean it, I’ll help you get sober.”

Sam froze for a second. It was hardly what he was expecting. But once his brain kicked back online, Sam felt his entire body come alight with hope.

“I am. I really am. I hate the direction my life has gone. But, won’t you be at risk?”

Daniel failed at suppressing a smile. “While I appreciate your concern, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think I was strong enough to handle it.”

“Then I would love nothing more,” Sam breathed, a smile of his own spreading across his lips.

“But, this does not mean we’re back together, you understand? I won’t even consider that until I think you’ve proved you are worth a second chance,” Daniel firmly reinforced, gesturing with his hand as he spoke.

“Completely understood,” Samuel enthusiastically confirmed, all but buzzing with excitement at simply the prospect of a second chance at being with Danny again.

It was at that moment that Sam realized that the sun had begun to poke its eager head above the horizon, weak rays of light needling their way into the window of Danny’s kitchen.

“We should at least try to get some sleep,” Daniel implored, his eyes staring regretfully at the very early morning rays of sun, “you can sleep on the couch.”

Sam nodded, glancing at the couch aforementioned.

“Can I hug you?” he blurted out, regretting it as soon as the request left his lips. Of course he would say no, it was still way too early in their very tentative attempt at rebuilding their relationship. He was a fool for even thinking-

“Alright.”

Not for the first time that night, Daniel Robert Wagner had surprised Sam.

With a smile on his face that displayed exactly that, he carefully took a step forward. When Danny didn’t move, Sam took another. Then another. Then another. Finally, he tentatively wrapped his arms around the man in front of him; Daniel copied the act.

Sam had to blink rapidly to keep himself from crying. It was no use. The tears fell down his cheeks on their own accord as Daniel squeezed his former lover, pulling him closer.

“Thank you,” Sam shakily whispered.

When the two pulled apart, Daniel gently wiped away a tear on Sam’s cheek and then made his way to get some sleep. As Sam stood alone in his ex’s living room with dawn rapidly encroaching, he felt, for the first time in a very long time, like he had something to look forward to. For the first time since he awoke alone in his formerly shared apartment ten months ago, Sam finally cared; it was freeing. With Daniel at his side, he would conquer his demons.

+++

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#greta van fleet #greta van fic #sam kiszka #samuel francis kiszka #sammy gvf #danny wagner #daniel robert wagner #samuel kiszka x daniel wagner #sanny gvf #sam x daniel

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