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soaps-hoe-141 · 1 year

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Drowning In The Depths

I don't know if you all saw the reblog I made yesterday on here but look at this gorgeous piece of art that @foreverrunningfree made!!!! I love him!

Part 7

Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader

WC: 14.9k

Synopsis: My boy getting some clothes, got some op planning, and then the op itself of course

Warnings: Violence and cursing but when is that not present in a COD fic really?

Light streamed in through the open blinds of the window casting the bunkhouse in the early morning sun. The black and brindle furred radiator breathed deep beside you still deep in sleep, a few light snores even coming from his dark muzzle. It was a peaceful sound, one you'd grown used to after years of living your entire life around those animals. The snores put you at ease, lulled you back into a half-sleeping state, your mind still not quite ready for the day to begin. Dreams called to you, the sound of a sleep filled voice that you'd never actually even heard before rattling around in your mind. What you wouldn't give to hear John this early in the morning.

A loud buzz came from across the room rattling your thoughts around in your skull nearly as much as it rattled the table. Who the hell? And then you remembered, your phone was broken, you were on a military base in a bunkhouse with a Lieutenant whose face you'd never even seen. And not to mention the fact you'd interrogated a man the evening before. Must be Laswell calling everyone in for the target package and op briefing. You lifted your head up to peek over Cerberus’, searching for the perpetrating phone and its owner. Another buzz filled the room a few seconds later and you finally saw the masked face turn into the pillow before he reached for the short bedside table and knocked it off to effectively cease the ringing.

Ghost was definitely not a morning person it would seem. At least not when it was someone else doing the waking for him. You couldn't relate, well to be fair you rarely slept especially when it was just you and Cerberus. Your eyes turned down to the big dog you had wrapped your arms around beside you. A thin sheet up to your hip and a quarter way up his long body as well. Cerberus was the only living thing you'd actually admit to loving but you had to admit, sleeping next to him sometimes was near torturous. Sweat slicked your body, casting a musk of you up into the air despite the shower you'd taken last night. Surprisingly you'd actually made it all the way to the bed last night though you'd been sure you were going to come short there a few times. Time to get up now though, he wasn't up soon but the Lieutenant at the other side of the room would be awake at some point and you weren't going to have him waiting on you if you could help it.

Stretching your free arm you heard your shoulder pop, the pain hitting you a moment later as you winced, letting it slowly subside in your mind a few seconds later. You slid your other arm slowly out from underneath the dog’s neck and rolled to your back, taking a few deep breaths. You’d spooned him all night, the Dutchie always enjoyed being the little spoon if there was room for him to be. The moment he felt you sitting up though his snores went quiet and he was wide awake. Tail thumping hard against your thigh as his big head lifted. You watched him slide off the bed and circle once on the floor before he shook his fur out, tongue lolling as he panted, ready for the day. Chocolate eyes found you then as you stretched your still aching muscles, glancing down at the unbandaged wounds to make sure they still looked relatively normal. You should probably go see Soap before this mission started, the last thing you needed was for these to get infected because you were too busy getting your ass eaten in the Captain's office.

The thought made your cheeks warm, body reacting to the mere memory of him kneeling between your thighs. Even as you shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, you bit at your bottom lip trying to suppress your body's reaction. When your feet found the ground though Ghost shot up from his place in bed, sitting bolt upright with his fists clenched. His chest was bare and he was taking in deep, heaving breaths as he stared across the room at you. You didn’t move for a few seconds, just staying quiet as he came out of his nightmare and remembered the two of you were bunkmates. No stranger to them yourself you gave him his space, giving him the time he needed. Cerberus crossed to his side of the room, tongue lolling as he sat about a foot away from the now calming Lieutenant. The hazel eyes flicked from your face to the Dutchie and you watched as Ghost relaxed again into the mattress, seeming to center himself as he reached a hand out to pet the patiently waiting dog.

Cerberus stepped closer slowly and you took advantage of the few moments of quietness to stand up, stretching your legs as you did. Tilting your head to pop your neck and stretch your back out as well. A quick glance out the window and you caught sight of John leaving his bunkhouse across the small path, definitely a call from Laswell to get going then. He glanced up at the window and paused on the steps, taking in your nearly naked form. Clothed only in a pair of underwear and framed like a postcard by the window frame. A small smile turned up your mouth as you watched him frozen in place, thoughts running through your mind of the show you could have given him if it wasn’t for Ghost laying down barely ten feet away.

Unwilling to break his gaze from you though, you moved a little closer to the window and leaned on the wood. Your forearm bracing against it as you watched his burning gaze across the way taking in everything he could get his eyes on. Your free hand reached up, scratching against the coarse hair of your growing beard. His hand instinctively mirrored yours, reaching up to run across the brunette hairs of his own. A smile found your face as the fingers ran down your neck, stopping at the dip between your pecs. You flattened your palm against the short hairs on your chest, seeming to scratch absent mindedly at the skin all while the Brit across the way watched. Leaning against the railing on the stairs with what you knew was a smirk on his face. He always had a smirk on his face.

Suddenly his head flicked to the side and his attention was stolen from you much too soon. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him continuing down the stairs and then heading off down the path. Leaving the sight of you in the window behind without so much as a second glance. Shit, were you really that bad of a sight this early in the morning? What could he have- Your internal question was cut off by a knock at the door. Eyes from all sides of the room shot to it and you stepped back from the window.

A quick glance Ghost's way told you he had no idea what was going on so it probably wasn't Soap then, or normal. Moving across the room you pulled open the door, staring at a pale blonde nearly as tall as you. He was holding several sets of clothes in his hands as his brows raised questioningly, “Speck I presume?” Well he sounded a bit pretentious with his British accent and perfectly kept appearance. You nodded in answer and he handed the clothes out to you, “Laswell said that these were to go to you.” Taking them slowly you inspected all of them, there were enough fatigues for every day of the week and just as many sets of casual clothes for blending in. She had gone all out it seemed. Not to mention the numerous fresh pairs of underwear, thank God for that because who knew how much longer yours would have lasted.

Setting them down on the table next to the door you gave him a polite smile, “Thanks. Wade yeah? Laswell mentioned you handled all this stuff,” he smiled and gave you a quick nod. You reached a hand out towards him, shaking his hand firmly as he clasped yours. “Nice to meet you, Wade. She said I should talk to you about Cerberus’ food too, you handle all the supplies and stuff for the team?” The man nodded as he held up a finger to stop you from asking anything else, retreating down the steps quickly.

The man grabbed a big bag of food off the ground and hauled it up the stairs towards you, “Is this good? It’s all we have on base right now.” He dropped it into your open arms and you nodded a quick answer, barely able to wrap your one good arm around the huge bag. As you stepped back Cerberus let out a couple loud barks. There was one thing that dog knew for sure and it was what a bag of dog was.

As you set the bag down next to the leg of the table his tail waved excitedly behind him. The Dutchie made his way over to inspect it as you returned your gaze to the blonde still outside the door, “Also I handle laundry for the team. So while you’re here just know I’ll be doing it once a week. Today is laundry day. I know you and the rest of the squad are supposed to be getting called in today though so if you don’t leave anything out don't worry I’ll just grab anything that smells out of your duffel.” You gave a quick nod before he added, “But I'll get a hamper for your bunkhouse before you get back, please use it. I'm not a maid." Well that was amusing considering that was exactly what he sounded like. But no need to cause trouble, you simply gave him another polite nod before he continued, "It’s my job to keep you supplied with anything you need so just let me know whenever you’re running low on something. I'll get it as soon as possible.”

You gave an amused huff and nodded in answer, “Sounds good man. I could actually use a new phone if you can handle that. Oh! And a pack of smokes, are we allowed to smoke on base?” The blonde man nodded and pulled out a notepad from his chest pocket along with a pen and started the list quickly. “And another vest and lead for Cerberus, his spares got ruined,” another quick nod of the blonde head as you tried to think of anything else you might need. “Only other thing I can think of is another pair of shoes, lost mine a couple months ago but other than that-”

A deep, sleep-wrecked voice behind you cut you off before you could even thank the man, “We have to go Speck. Get ready." His chest pressed against your back as he leaned around the door and cast a glare at the blonde outside, "Fuck off Wade.” The masked man shut the door in the man's face and you turned to glance back at Ghost a bit incredulously. The Lieutenant didn’t even bother to look at you though, instead moving back to his side of the room as he grabbed his clothes and started getting dressed, “He’s an idiot. Don’t talk to him,” he grumbled out as he buttoned his pants and started searching his duffel for something.

Your head shook at the statement but you didn’t bother to say anything in opposition. Wade’s problems with the rest of the team weren’t about to become yours as well. Looking through the clothes you’d been given you stripped out of the underwear and pulled on the freshest clothes you’d had in months. The feeling of clean fabric against your skin was heavenly, you had to admit. It had been too long since you'd worn freshly cleaned, brand new clothes. Way too fuckin long.

Ghost waited until you’d both finished making up your bed before getting your attention with a quiet grunt and nodding to the door as he opened it. You threw the other sets of fresh clothes on the bed, leaving the duffel open at the foot of it so Wade could find it when he needed to later today. “Fuss Cerberus,” the Dutchie attached himself to your hip as you hooked his lead to his collar and followed Ghost outside. Even in the early morning hours it was still suffocatingly hot, but it was better than the alternative mid-day hours.

You had to adjust to the longer strides but you quickly fell into step beside him as he led you through the maze of halls. Surprisingly it was back to the same door you’d followed John through the evening before. He punched in a string of numbers and pushed the door open, holding it for a second to make sure you didn’t get locked out as he headed inside. It was a surprisingly kind gesture you hadn’t expected from the mostly mute and faceless man. Huh, maybe he knew that you’d seen him and Soap the other day and didn’t want you blabbering to anyone else about it.

Wasn’t your business to blab either way though and you were more than content to mind your own. Thinking of the loud Scotsman, as you walked in you saw him and Gaz both with fake guitars in hand and standing in front of the couch with their eyes intent on the TV. The dark-skinned Brit was holding a fork in his mouth while his fingers flew across the different colored buttons on the neck of the guitar. Empty plates sat in front of them, Soap’s fork still on his plate as Gaz’s yell was stifled with his lips still wrapped tightly around his own fork.

Meanwhile Watcher was on a handheld device with a microwave breakfast burrito in his freehand. As you walked behind the couch you caught a glimpse of the surprisingly large screen. You caught sight of a little gray cat in a suit with glasses and an eagle in a leather jacket talking to one another as you passed. Eyes following the image for just a moment before it was out of eyeshot.

Konig was sitting back reading quietly with a cup of something in his hand. Something hot by the looks of it and as you passed you recoiled at the strong smell of hot tea. His green eyes flicked up to you and narrowed but not in the same way the Lieutenant’s usually did. You got the impression he was giving you a smile underneath his black half mask. It immediately drew out your own polite smile in response, a reaction you couldn’t stop after years of being trained in the way of Southern politeness.

The sound of a fridge door opening caught your attention though as you turned to find Ghost opening the top door on the other side of the room that you’d failed to notice yesterday. Food sounded perfect right now, might as well get yourself something while you still can. The dark haired Scot’s outburst though broke your focus on the freezer as your eyes shot to the two Sergeant again, “Are ye feckin kiddin me!? How did ye- That’s-” Gaz was holding his fists up in victory with the guitar in one hand and his fork in the other while he stared at the TV.

He pushed Soap hard in the shoulder with a shit eating grin on his face, “Pay up Soap. That was the deal,” Gaz tossed the fork onto his plate sitting on the coffee table in front of them. Soap was glaring hard at the Brit as Gaz held out his hand and shook it with expectation. It was funny, you remembered seeing the same interaction at the bar all those months ago but it was Ghost who was getting paid then.

A stubborn shake of the Scot’s head though made it clear what his position was on the matter, “I amnae givin ye shite ye bastart. It isnae fair,” Watcher snorted from his chair, glancing up from what he was doing for just a second. Long enough to see Soap cross his arms over his chest still holding his guitar in his hand in a white knuckled grip. You swore his face was getting redder by the second.

The Lieutenant shut the door on the microwave and turned around, narrowing his eyes as he leaned back against the counter. But even that couldn’t break your attention away from the unfolding scene in front of you. Gaz dropped his guitar onto the couch, his lip curling up in frustration, “You made the bet, Soap. What are you even talking about?” Soap shook his head and the other Sergeant threw up his hands, “Are you serious, mate? You lost fair and square, Soap!” The pitch of his voice was climbing an octave, his frustration growing by the second. Things were about to get dicey if someone didn’t cut in here in a second.

Finally, you managed to move yourself towards the refrigerator in search of a quick and hot meal for breakfast even as you heard Soap give an answering, “I dinnae ken what yer talking about. Ya cheated ye bawbag,” Gaz scoffed and his hand hit his chest like he’d been struck there. Your own eyebrows raised in surprise at the insult, widened eyes flicking between the two men and just waiting for the shoe to drop. Soap tossed his guitar on the couch as well and grabbed his plate off the table, turning his back on the Brit with a huff of anger.

For all of a second before Ghost cleared his throat and the Scot froze in place, his shoulders visibly tensing underneath his shirt. Another quick clearing of his throat and Soap turned to look at Ghost over his shoulder. The way his eyes found the Lieutenant was something akin to fear but not quite. The big man was staring at the Scot with an intensity unlike anything you’d ever seen before and Soap’s lips flattened into a thin line as he shifted nervously underneath that gaze. “Pay the man, Johnny,” the Scot seemed to deflate when Ghost gave the order. His head tilted back as he sighed so loud you could hear it from across the room. The air left his lungs in a rush as he did so.

Soap tossed the paper plate into the trash and dug into his pocket, fishing something out of the depths. When his hand pulled out and he extended it towards Gaz, palm opened in the offering. The other Sergeant was quick to snatch away his prize and you barely caught sight of the little bag full of what looked like candy. Maybe gummy bears? Or something made of gelatin at least.

Soap muttered something as he took a seat on the couch, but you couldn’t hear it as the microwave went off and Ghost turned to take out his breakfast burrito. Oh yeah you needed to eat something too, that’s why you were standing in front of the fridge. You opened the top door, inspecting the contents inside curiously. You’d never seen so many breakfast burritos in your life.

They weren’t even in the boxes anymore. Just shoved inside the freezer in their plastic wraps so you had no idea what you were going to be biting into in about two minutes. You pulled one out, almost afraid they were going to come toppling out on top of you when you did but they held steadfast. Unwrapping it you threw it into the microwave and punched in a few numbers before leaning back against the counter and waiting.

Ghost didn’t bother to find a seat, he just ended up standing beside a door. It wasn’t the one John had pulled you into yesterday evening though. Glancing towards that door you could see the light was on inside that room too. So that’s where he had disappeared off to this morning when you saw him leaving his bunkhouse.

When Laswell came through the door everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Ghost even stopped mid bite of his burrito with his mask shoved up to the bridge of his nose. Everyone stayed quiet as she moved to the door Ghost was standing beside and unlocked it with a key she pulled from the pocket of her windbreaker. When she turned back she glanced at everyone in turn, “Let’s go, we’ve got a lot to discuss.”

Soap didn’t hesitate to hop over the back of the couch getting cut off by Gaz’s long strides in front of him. The both of them nearly tackled each other in their haste to get to the door. Watcher pressed a button on his little handheld device as he stood up and knocked on John’s door a couple times. You watched as all the men stopped before they entered, each of their electronic devices being deposited one at a time onto a little shelf before they headed inside.

Your eyes shot behind you to the microwave with a little bit of annoyance as you saw the timer on the microwave was still at a minute. A sigh fell from your mouth before you followed the other men, you could get it later. You filed into the room behind the tall German, watching everyone sit like they’d been assigned seats. With how long they’d been together they probably had assigned themselves seats at this point. Well all of them except for Ghost who just stood at the far wall with his burrito still in his hand and mask still shoved up to the bridge of his nose. You could smell the food from here and your stomach growled in response. Damn, you should have made your food sooner.

Soap sat near the back of the table with Konig to his right. While Watcher was across from the tall German with Gaz sitting to his left. You took the seat on Konig’s right and across from Gaz, leaning back into the chair with your chin resting on your fist as you inspected the room quietly. There was a model of some kind of warehouse sitting at the head of the table that everyone seemed to be looking at with interest.

When the door opened again John stepped inside the room with a file in one hand and held up a burrito with a questioning look around the room, “Whose is this?” My God the man was a saint, the timer must have gone off as he was leaving his office. Perfect timing John, always the most perfect timing. You lifted your hand in response immediately and he tossed it over the table to you with a subtle smile. Then the brunette took his seat beside Gaz, his hands wiping along his thighs before he found Laswell, “Ready when you are Kate.” You turned your eyes to the front of the room as you set yourself to eating the steaming burrito.

Your mouth caught fire immediately and you watched Gaz across the table barely holding in a smile. The Brit across the table watched as you tried to breathe your way through the pain. It felt like you were exhaling literal fire as you huffed a few times. When a large hand smacked you on the back you turned a look of shock on the man next to you. Sucking in a gasp of air at the pain and searing your throat even more than before. You saw him put a fist to his mouth even with the mask already covering it, “Oh Scheiße! I thought you were choking. I'm sorry Speck,” you forced the hot food down your throat and coughed a couple times to ease the burn.

You waved him away and shook your head, “Oh don’t worry about it.” You coughed again and cleared your singed throat with a shake of your head. “No worries Konig,” you turned away and towards Laswell then to avoid letting the tall man see your wince. Shifting against the back of the chair, still feeling the sting from where his blow had landed. If that was him trying to help you, you had no intention of ever finding out what it felt like when he was aiming to actually cause harm.

The blonde woman looked up from the laptop she was working on and cast John a smile, ignoring the little interruption that you and Konig had caused. “You’re always ready John, it’s one of your redeeming qualities.” Your eyes glanced back and forth between them as you continued to dig into your burrito, turning in the chair to let Cerberus settle between your legs as he looked up at you. Laswell stood up straight after a second longer of typing, hitting a button on the remote she was holding as an overhead projector turned on. Then she turned her attention to the group of men gathered around the table, “The man we captured in Pakistan was Labeeb el-Haider. An ex-resistance faction member from Pakistan, a General according to Speck.”

Eyes found you as you tilted your chin down, passing off a chunk of your burrito to Cerberus. It wasn’t the first time you had used him to avoid the stares from others. Attention was not something you often sought. Laswell didn’t wait for you to look up before she continued, “He was a well of information following your interrogation by the way Speck. We just mentioned your name and he was telling our translator whatever we wanted to know.” Eyes flicked to you from around the room again but you were staring straight ahead at Laswell. Labeeb had really fucked himself bringing up the Admiral.

“We now have an ID on our head of operations,” the picture changed from Labeeb to a face that felt familiar. You sat forward in the chair, narrowing your gaze as you tried to place it. “Amaan al-Mustafa,” you snorted and shook your head as you sat back. That face was familiar for a fuckin reason and now you remembered why. Laswell turned a curious look to you, one eyebrow cocked in question. And when you looked away quickly you noticed the others had their eyes trained on you once more as well. Damnit they’d just forgotten about you. Just had to laugh like an idiot in the middle of a meeting didn’t you, son of a bitch.

You shook your head in answer but she didn’t continue like you’d hoped she would. Laswell was clearly waiting for you to explain yourself now. Clearing your throat you answered her silent question as quickly as you could, “Amaan al-Mustafa, I know him. Well I know his face. He was at the market when it was bombed.” John turned towards you then, curiosity in his eyes as his hands clasped one another on top of the table. They were all waiting for you to explain how the hell you knew that it seemed.

Laswell narrowed her eyes at you though and you were quick to clarify, “He was posing as a guard. Could have killed me with a gun and been sure I was goin down. Then he still tried to do it with a bomb. Just thought it was funny, sorry,” she glanced at the picture still being projected. Missing your small shrug, but as you explained your awkward laugh and seemingly poor sense of humor they all turned back to the woman at the front of the room. Your interruption had obviously caused her to be thrown off her game somewhat though, at least for a moment.

When she flicked to the next picture everyone went quiet once more, “This is where Amaan is apparently holed up right now. It’s in the heart of Zabol’s warehouse district, and we got the schematics for it last night.” This op wasn’t looking very heavy-rollout friendly right now, “I had a model made to help plan the op but we’ll have to move fast. Labeeb was kind enough to inform us that they are going to be moving off-site soon.” She gestured towards the model setup at the head of the table.

John sat forward as he looked it over, pulling the top off to inspect the inside of the building. His beard twitched as his jaw worked, deep in thought as he moved pieces in his mind like it was a game of chess. “We’ll need a quick entry and escape. The building being in the heart of Zabol’s warehouse district means a pretty quick response time from local law enforcement.” There were sounds of agreement from around the table before John asked, “Do we have any details on security measures?” His eyes shot up to Laswell questioningly.

The woman nodded quickly as she answered, “As far as we know there isn’t anything strong enough to resist a breaching charge, and no high tech security that was on the schematics. You’ll just have to contend with ground forces and whatever doors you come across.” She took a seat at the table next to you, still watching John as he worked through everything in his mind.

The Brit glanced down the length of the table at Watcher, “You’ll be our getaway driver then. Don’t want you in the line of fire if you don’t need to be.” The ginger gave the Captain a thumbs up as John’s eyes turned back to the model and he stood up. Moving around to the front of the table to get a different angle on the model he stood quietly. His hands reached up absently as if he was going to hook his thumbs into the straps of his tac vest but it wasn’t there. The realization seemed to hit that he wasn’t actually wearing his vest yet and instead he braced himself against the side of the table.

You watched as he leaned down to inspect it closely, his hand reaching up to run over the side of his jaw before finally he spoke again, “We’ll split up in teams. Gaz and I will go up the outside stairs and clear the top floor. Ghost and Konig you’ll go in the front door and clear the bottom floor. Soap and Speck will go in through the back door here,” he pointed to the back of the model, “You’ll bypass most everyone to get to the stairs and then clear the second floor. We’ll hit them all at the same time” You leaned forward then, honestly that was more than surprising.

He was putting a gun in your hand and sending you into a building without even being on the team himself. John either trusted you or he didn’t trust himself, which one it was though remained a mystery to you. None of that mattered however. You were getting a shot at the man who tried to kill you and you weren’t in the habit of missing. It didn’t matter how you got to that point, only that you got there.

John continued a second later, “Ghost, Gaz, and Soap,” John made sure he had the three men’s attention before he continued, “Carry light breaching charges, we won’t have our packs. We’re going in light and quick,” there were quick nods of response from the men. John stood back up then and motioned for Ghost to join him at the head of the table. You’d nearly forgotten the big man was even in the room. John pointed to the lowest floor, “How long do you think it’ll take to clear?”

Ghost tilted his head in thought, “So long as nothing gets fucked I’d say two minutes max.” John nodded in answer and everyone around the table stood. All of you were moving to get a closer look at the floors you would be clearing.

Gaz was the next one to pipe up, “It shouldn’t take us, at most, a minute and a half.” John nodded his agreement as he inspected the top floor. “Push up here,” he pointed to a choke point in the hall, “a flash down the hall and then one in each of these rooms as we clear. We’ll be in and out the fastest probably.” He looked up at the brunette looking to see if he agreed with the assessment.

John was already nodding, “We’ll head down to the second floor to assist them when we’re done. Keep an ear on your comms,” he glanced at you and Soap. “It’ll take the longest time to clear the second floor with all the rooms and this door separating one half from the other. You’ll definitely need a breaching charge for that one.”

Soap nodded his agreement to John’s suggestion, “I’d say a heavy breaching charge, Price. I don’t think a light will do it.” John didn’t seem to like the sound of that as his mustache flicked up and he sucked in a breath. There wasn’t much he could do about it though as he gave a slow nod of agreement.

“Cerberus can keep it, he won’t get weighed down and he always has his vest anyway. That way Soap won’t have to worry about a pack,” you glanced between John and the Sergeant earning a beard twitch from the Captain and a smile from the other man. They both obviously liked the idea and besides, Cerberus would probably get thrown off if he wasn’t carrying something.

Glancing down at the second floor of the model you pointed to one of the rooms behind the security door and glanced at the sitting woman, “Are these sleeping quarters?” Laswell nodded an answer after she took a quick look at the rooms. “If he’s in there it’ll be hard to take him alive. There’s a lot of places to hide and there are likely to be a lot of people in there,” you glanced around at the circle of men. Soap nodded his agreement even before John did.

Without glancing up at you the Captain pointed towards the dog then, “That’s why we’re putting you with Soap on the second floor. Cerberus can detain a hostile so long as there isn’t too much foot traffic, yeah?” You gave a quick nod when he finally looked up at you, “Should give you a bit of an edge then.” John put the top back on the building then and crossed his arms over his chest, “When we get the HVT we’ll exfil through the first floor where Ghost and Konig have cleared through and out the back door. Watcher will be waiting out there with our getaway van.”

The ginger nodded quickly and that was it. There was no room for further discussion as the team all seemed to agree on what they would all be doing. It was going to be weird working with someone else after so long. You could only hope it would be like riding a bike. Time to get geared up and get after the man who had tried to murder you.

As you followed the team out of the squad room they led you back across base towards the bunkhouses. Confusion was beginning to set in but before you could wonder aloud they stopped in front of a small building you'd overlooked on your first few days here. But looking back you suddenly remembered it was where a few of the guys had disappeared to when you first got back to the base.

Price punched in a code next to the door and then shoved a key into the lock before he pulled the door open and held it. The team filed in quickly with you and Cerberus hot on their heels, the Captain stepping in behind you. The guys split up into their individual cages, each man with their own key as they set themselves to getting their gear ready. Leaving you to watch quietly in the middle of the room.

Damn if this didn't bring back memories though. Your chest was beginning to feel heavy with the thoughts of the last time you’d been in a room like this. Gearing up for an op that should have been an easy knockout and had instead sent your entire life spiraling out of control. You saw their old faces, burnt and bloody, in those of the other men around you and it made your palms feel clammy. The muscles of your back were starting to tighten in response to the anxiety currently pouring off of you in waves.

It was hard to swallow your throat felt so tight and the dog at your side could sense that something was off. Even as you actively hid it behind that careful mask he was pressing into your leg with his whole body, a velcro dog if there ever was one. His familiar warmth and weight a comfort as it always had been. Since the moment you'd first taken him with you Cerberus has never failed to keep you sane. You had found him at the lowest point in your life and keeping him alive, keeping him safe, was the only thing that had ensured your survival back in the worst of those dark days.

You barely even heard the sound of the door opening again behind you before a familiar voice caught your attention. Dragging you out of your own dark thoughts by the ankles and forcing you to pay attention. You turned to find the blonde from this morning, holding more than a few items as he sat them on the table beside you. "This is for you, Speck. Standard issue gear, you just have to sign for it since it's a loan out," he held up a clipboard to you. You stared down at the line that was awaiting your legal signature. Awaiting the name you hadn't heard from anyone in years and had honestly forgotten then sound of.

When you looked back up at him though he could see the slight tilt of your head and the humor in your eyes. Yeah that shit wasn't happening. Thankfully John stepped out of his cage though, grabbing the clipboard from Wade and the pen before he put a hastily scribbled signature on the blank line. "I'm signing for all his stuff Wade," the blonde glanced down and for a moment you swear he was about to refuse. To say something in opposition to the commanding Brit in front of you, but the look currently being leveled at him made him think better. Well he wasn't a complete idiot, not always anyway.

Wade gave a slow nod and turned another look to you, "Any preference on your loadout? I can't do any modifications really, but I can outfit you with something standard for the time being." John stepped back into his cage then, he'd done his job for now it seemed. Your eyes followed him as you watched him pull his vest on, setting himself to buckling and velcroing respectively. Keeping his focus on getting ready like you should have been doing but seemed unable to do. The sinking feeling that you'd have to suffer through everything again pressed into your gut like a knife. Twisting into you and souring your face even through the mask.

Keep your distance, Speck, don't get close cause then it gets messy. You'd told yourself that for two years now. Repeated that mantra in your head every single time you were forced into work with someone. And yet the second you'd gotten here you'd forgotten it all. Forgotten the pain that had come with the loss of that close bond you had with your brothers, with the SEALs who fought at your back.

You had thrown yourself directly back into the line of fire the moment it had been John standing at that door and not one of the others. Anyone else and you'd have shot first consequences be damned, anyone else would have been lying on that pavement bleeding out while you made your way to the nearest vehicle you could hot wire. But it hadn't been anyone else and now look where you were, exactly in the place you needed to avoid. Don't get attached, Speck. Keep everyone at arm's length cause if you don't it'll come crashing down around you. Get out of your head now, you had a job to do and you would do it. Focus on the job, not the people you were running it with. Stop thinking about the fuckin Brit and focus you-

A clearing of a throat beside you caught your attention and once more forced you out of your own swarming thoughts. You turned that look of nonchalance back to the blonde, blinking a couple times as you cleared your head. "Yeah, you got a PDSW 528? Short range sights?" You had always preferred either an LMG or a submachine gun. Quick and accurate or fast and dirty, those were your only two modes and it showed in your choice of weapons. Wade pulled out his little notepad with a nod before you added, "And a 9mm would be good. X12?" It felt like ordering from McDonald's as you watched him nod again and write it down in his notepad. He turned like he was about to go before you stopped him, "Oh I'll need a first line EOD kit as well. And I like to roll with four flashes and two grenades usually too," the blonde seemed to hesitate then.

His eyes shot to the Captain behind him in his cage getting, at first, a sigh of annoyance from the Captain before the brunette nodded in response and Wade wrote that down as well. He slid the pen and notepad into his chest pocket and gave you a half smile, "Be back in a few minutes." He left through a side door then, stopping at another keypad to punch numbers into for only a moment before he disappeared.

You turned back to your newly assigned gear and gave it a once over before you started to pull it on. They were outfitting you with a tactical vest, a helmet, a radio, some ear protection, shooting glasses, a thigh holster, and a small pouch that would attach to your tac vest. It'd been a long time since you had been given a full setup. God it'd been two years since someone had outfitted you with an actual team radio and ear protection. And then of course you'd been given a new harness for Cerberus to boot with its own body length pack for anything you needed for him to carry. It was even the same style that you usually used so at least you wouldn't have to adjust to anything there.

Inspecting it closely you checked every buckle, every strap, hell every seam on it. There was no way you were gonna trust anyone else to assure Cerberus' safety, not this time and not this dog. "Hopp," you patted the table and the big Dutchie hopped up easily, standing eye level with you on top of the tall piece of furniture. The dog certainly looked his part with his thick fur, straight back, hard muscle, and proud stance. A sight that could strike fear if you saw that missile streaking towards you.

You unhooked his lead as you strapped the new vest on him. It was as black as the stripe of fur running from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. And it blended in perfectly until it met with his deep, russet, fawn colored sides and their brindle patterning. There were three handles on the back portion, one close to his neck running perpendicular to him and another near the end of his back with the same orientation. The other handle ran parallel with Cerberus' spine ensuring no matter how you and the dog were standing you would always have control over him if you needed it.

Lifting him up you watched him go limp, the seventy five pounds of muscle completely pliant in midair. The handles held fast and you let out a breath, taking a close look at the harness one last time before Soap wandered over. He held up the heavy breaching charge and you tilted your head at it as you took it from him. It was bulkier than you'd initially expected but you could make it work. "Hopp," you issued the command again and Cerberus was at your eyes again with Soap watching. You grabbed the small pack meant to attach to Cerberus' vest and zipped it up inside before buckling it onto the harness and giving it a hard tug to make sure it wasn't going anywhere.

The second you and Soap both saw it stick easily he headed back to his cage to finish what he was doing. Just in time too because a moment later Wade returned. He placed the weapons down in front of you along with an ammo box and a few magazines for each of the weapons. Then he slid the flashes, grenades, and EOD kit into the little pouch before zipping it up and helping you attach it to the vest. "Anything else?" He asked quickly and you shook your head in answer, watching him basically run out of the room before he was assigned with something else to do. You had a feeling he was probably overworked and very underappreciated if Ghost’s earlier reaction to him was anything to go by.

As you finished loading the magazines and sliding them into their respective pockets on the vest a hand clapped you on the shoulder. You turned to find Soap's blue smiling eyes, "I'll put some fresh bandages over those stitches on the way there since you never came to see me last night." A quick answering smile and a nod and you slid the pistol into the thigh holster. "Why was that by the way? Ye trying to get them infected or something?" His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously as you steadfastly avoided them.

Attaching Cerberus' lead to the new harness John's loud voice rang out, "Let's go!" Saving you from answering the hard question, you could act with the best of them but good God you couldn't lie. The team filed out, everyone geared up to go into hell and back twice over.

-------

The car ride was long, especially with everyone packed into the same van. At least this time though it wasn't as small as the last minivan you'd been shoved into. Gaz was driving the cargo van for now, he'd switch places with Watcher whenever yall made it to the warehouse but it was safer to let him drive until you got there. You would have been the only option that was safer but you had no idea where you were or the roads to take to get there. And the Captain seemed more than content to keep it that way for now.

Everyone else other than the dark- skinned Brit was sitting in the back of the cargo van in varying degrees of wakefulness. A false wall keeping you all close in, in case anyone got any ideas in regards to inspecting whatever you were hauling. Bags and crates had been set into the back just beyond the wall as cover should it be needed. The space you were all in was just big enough for y'all to fit comfortably. Though the addition of an extra person would be a bit of a tighter fit you would all manage. It was still better than sitting squished together in your tac vests with your weapons and gear in the back of a loaded down minivan whose shocks were about to give out at any moment.

Across from you Watcher was laying against Konig's side with one long, heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders. The tall German had leaned over to lay against Ghost as he was about the only one tall enough for him to use as a pillow. Soap had buried himself in the Lieutenant's other side, his face hidden by a rather large bicep. His face was basically shoved in the other man's armpit and while you wouldn't have dared to get close enough to touch him, watching the Sergeant do it was kind of…cute? Yeah, cute. Meanwhile Ghost was staring absently down at a phone in his hand, scrolling through whatever had taken his fancy at the moment though he didn't really seem all that interested in it truly.

You, Cerberus, and John were on the other side of the van, quietly looking ahead. It was a task in and of itself not to lean over to lay against him. To put yourself into a comfortable sleep like the three men across from you had. You could feel him next to you every time he shifted positions on the floor of the van. Every fiber of your being wanted to touch him but there were way too many eyes. And not to mention when the undeniable urge for more set in there would be nothing either of you could do but suffer a round of blue balls in the middle of an all too important op. It wasn't worth the pain in truth. But God if he didn't look like a dream leaning back against the wall of the van, gun in his hands, and a boonie hat on his head. You had to admit that hat looked fitting on him. Like it was made to sit on only John Price's head. You highly doubted anyone else could have pulled it off, that much is for sure.

No, stop it. Job. Gun. Dog. You had an entire op still to get through, keep it together Speck. Quit thinking about him for two damn seconds please, for the love of God and everything else holy. Stop. So you tilted your head back, tuning out the world around you as Gaz took you to your destination.

A back alley that was a block away from your target building and just big enough for the van to fit into without tearing apart the sides. Watcher climbed into the front, dressed for the part in traditional thobe and taqiyah though nothing could really cover his undeniably pale skin and ginger hair. You could only hope no one looked too close into the darkened windows. Gaz joined all of you in the back as the false panel pushed open and you lined up in your respective teams of two.

John and Gaz would go first since they had to climb the stairs to the third floor. Then Ghost and Konig so they could engage at the front door first and draw attention away from you, Cerberus, and Soap going in through the back door. When John glanced back he got quick nods to indicate you were all ready and he pushed the back doors open.

Typically an op like this would have been done in the dead of night, but you couldn't wait that long. It was time sensitive and you'd already lost two days. The chances of your target no longer being there only increased with every minute you waited. So the sun sat on the horizon, sinking into the west but by no means was it nightfall. It wouldn't be for a bit, not yet.

The team stayed together until Ghost and Konig broke off first to head around the building. The rest of you continued around the back, John and Gaz turning the corner onto the street to head up the stairs to the top floor. You and Soap held on the back entrance, one on either side as you waited for the all clear to go. It was on Ghost's mark, whenever the Lieutenant decided to call it. Any second now. His deep voice finally came over the comms with a quick, "Breaching now." In the next couple of moments you heard the sound of voices inside becoming panicked.

Soap tried the door handle but the second he reached for it Cerberus let out a growl and you tensed, your arms already coming up as the door flung out and opened. Your eyes locked onto a face that was contorted in panic, eyes wide and mouth opening to let out a yell. Your hand shot to cover the mouth, slamming the man's head against the wall before you wrapped an arm around his throat and pulled him away from the door. It closed in the next moment and you saw Soap's look of surprise as your back found the wall. Arm locked around the man's neck as he struggled violently in your arms, kicking and trying to break your hold with wild elbows.

After some painful seconds though he finally slumped against you. You let him drop to the concrete as you watched Soap step forward, knife in hand. No witnesses it would seem. None who had seen your faces anyway. That was fine with you. When Soap moved back towards the door he waited until you tapped his shoulder before he moved inside.

No one else was in the halls but you could hear gunfire coming from the front door. Ghost and Konig's distraction was working out well it seemed. The Sergeant opened the stairwell door and you followed behind him, Cerberus at your hip. You kept an eye behind as Soap cleared upwards to the second floor, stepping backwards up the stairs in a cautious and steady rhythm. The door opened easily as the both of you moved quietly, the door of the second floor opening as you slipped inside. It was profoundly silent, almost unnervingly so.

It was so devoid of sound that when John's voice cracked through your headset you nearly jumped, "We've got the families on the third floor. They are saying Amaan is on the second floor. Soap and Speck I repeat Amaan is reportedly on the second floor. We cannot move to help you secure, too high risk with the families up here." Well there goes a wrench in that plan, it was just the three of you then, lovely.

Soap looked your way and took a step behind you as you raised your gun. Your eyes were trained ahead as you watched the hallway in front of you, glancing between each door quickly. Then you heard Soap answer, "Good copy, we'll get him if he's here." A hand tapped your shoulder and you moved forward at that cautious and steady pace. Clear each room and then blow the security door. Easy.

The first room was devoid of anyone. Much like the second, third, and fourth were. Your eyes shot to Soap who was either visibly nervous or confused, you couldn't tell in your own haze of thoughts. It was much too quiet for your liking and with a hitch already in your plan you didn't like the possibility of another. The second you opened the fifth door though bullets whizzed through the open doorway, both you and Soap scrambling away from it as chunks and splinters of wood dislodged. A belt fed heavy machine gun was eating away at the very wall. The fuck were they hiding in there that needed to be defended like that?

You reached for the pouch at your hip and pulled out one of the flashes. You made sure Soap saw it before you pulled the pin and tossed it through the hole that the person inside had shot through the drywall. Reaching down you unclipped Cerberus' lead in the next heartbeat and wrapped your fingers around one of the handles of the vest. The second that the flash went off you peeled around the corner, firing at the man holding his eyes behind the belt fed. You couldn't hear anything else inside the room but your neck prickled even after you felt Soap tap your shoulder to keep going. You held up a closed fist in answer and felt him freeze near your back. "Voran," you whispered and Cerberus darted around the room, tail waving behind him as he searched diligently.

When he stopped and sat down you lifted your gun higher, his eyes staring intently at a piece of plywood leaning against the wall around the corner. Your eyes shot to Soap, pointing towards it and he gave you a nod as you took up positions on either side. Both of you took a corner in your hand before glancing towards one another and pulling it off the wall. A shrill scream filled the air the second that light hit the small face. A child, a little girl, stared up at the two of you from the hiding place she'd been put in.

She tried to scramble further away, further back into the hole that had been cut into the wall but there was nowhere else for her to go. Even with her small size she barely fit inside. You couldn't move as you stared down at the face, it wouldn't have done any good anyway. There wasn't a little girl alive on the planet that didn't make you pause, and your palms sweat. They all reminded you of your own daughter, the one you hadn't seen in so long you doubted she even remembered you existed. That at one point you had actually tried. It always made you remember how terrible you'd been as a father, or at least how terrible your ex-wife had always made you feel. Always telling you that they deserved better, that your daughter needed an actual father not a man she saw maybe thirty days out of the year.

Children were not your strong suit. Just remember what your ex-wife told you. Stay away from them so you don't fuck them up more than you already had. It was easier than letting the stain of your existence cloud their lives forever. So you stepped back as Soap moved forward, whispering a quick, "Fuss," as you took up a position at the door. It'd be easier just to let him deal with her. You'd procreated but that didn't mean you were a dad or had any paternal instinct whatsoever.

The Sergeant spoke quickly to the little girl, his voice immediately soothing even to your ears, "Hey, it's ok. We aren't here tah hurt ye." He pressed the button of his radio as he coaxed the girl out of her hiding spot as gently as he could, "Got a little girl down here Price. You got a mom to match?" The Captain muttered something you didn't catch as Soap helped her out of the hole. "Hey, do ye understand me lass?" The little girl stared blankly at him, she didn't know English, at least not enough to answer him back. "Speck, does she understand ya?" The blue eyes found you at the door, barely keeping your expression neutral rather than full of the nerves that were about to make you sick.

There was a job to do though, so get it done Speck. You motioned to the door and switched places with the Scot, kneeling beside her and trying Farsi first, "Hey, do you understand me?" Light came to her eyes as she nodded quickly, and you smiled at her eagerness. "Good. We are not here to hurt you ok? We are looking for someone, do you think you can help me?" Her eyes flicked nervously towards Soap but she gave you a hesitant nod in answer, "Amaan al-Mustafa. Have you seen him today?" The little girl's face immediately fell into a frown so deep it aged her well beyond the eight or nine years she could count.

You didn't need to hear her say it, or see her nod, she'd seen him and she hadn't liked what she'd seen either. Her eyes were staring down at her feet, refusing to meet your gaze. God you hated seeing that look on her face, scared and just wanting to be held but not by some stranger. She wanted her mother like all children do. Hell it was probably her father currently laying on the floor dead right behind her. You glanced at Cerberus whispering, "Platz," as the dog sank to his belly beside you. Still speaking in Farsi you ran your hand over his head and smiled at the girl, "Would you like to pet the dog?"

"Yes!" Came her immediate response and her fingers immediately reached for the big dog, running her comparatively tiny hands over his head. It did its job in distracting her from the world she'd found herself in. And especially keeping her eyes off the man in the corner lying dead by your doing.

It kept her quiet and relaxed as you both waited for the Captain to get back to you. Not long after she started petting the dog you heard John finally answered, "We've got a woman here saying the girl is probably hers. Jasra?" She certainly looked and acted like a Jasra, brave and courageous even facing the horrors of war head on.

You were quick to repeat it back to the girl in a question, "Is your name Jasra?" Her eyes shot up to you and she nodded, "Would you like to go find your mother, Jasra?" Another eager nod as you glanced up at Soap who was already relaying to Price that it was in fact the girl's mother. "Come here, Jasra," you scooped the girl into your arm, glancing down at Cerberus with a quick, "Fuss," before joining Soap at the door of the room. "You get the breaching charge set, I'll be back in a second." The Scot nodded and unzipped the pouch at Cerberus' side, pulling out the heavy breaching charge before he moved towards the door. The two of you split up as you made your way back to the stairwell. "Captain go to the top of the stairs, I'm sending the girl up with Cerberus." A quick affirmative let you know he'd heard you as you opened the door of the stairwell.

A quick glance down and up let you know that the stairwell was still, thankfully, empty. Setting the girl down on her feet you gave her a reassuring smile as you took her hand and put it on the back handle of the Dutchie's vest. You hooked Cerberus' lead back onto the harness before pulling it off your waist and putting it in the girl's free hand. "Keep your hands here until you get to the man at the top of the stairs, ok?" She nodded quickly and you glanced up as the door above you opened.

Pressing the button on your comm you quickly told the Captain, "Call Cerberus." A second later the big black head lifted curiously, glancing up as he heard his name come from above. "Say hier," the dog's eyes shot to you, his head tilting as John repeated the command above you. He seemed unsure since it wasn't your voice giving the command but a quick, "Again," and the command sounding from John's mouth overhead and he took off with the little girl up the stairs.

Cerberus paused for just a second to glance back, making sure you weren't about to scold him, but when you said nothing he kept going. Closing the door you headed back down the hall towards Soap. "Keep him with you Captain, we're breaching the security door now," you said into the comm before you lined up across from Soap and gave the Scot a nod. The charge blew inwards in the next second and the two of you continued inside.

Three men went down outside any of the rooms the second that you tossed in a flashbang and pushed through the security door. He stuck to one side of the hallway while you stayed on the other side, covering one another in an x-pattern from across the hall. You ducked into your room first, one guy going down nearly immediately and the other trying desperately to dive for the cover of a desk before you put two rounds into him as well. You exited your room just before Soap came out of his, the both of you continuing down the hall in the same pattern.

Your next room was empty save for a few beds, but you heard more than a few shots from Soap’s side of the hallway. You stayed in your doorway, waiting for the Scot to be finished. Just as he rejoined you the next door on his side of the hallway cracked inward and a guy aimed your way out of the door, firing blindly around it. You put four rounds through the wood and heard a yell on the other side as the shooting stopped. The both of you moved forward together before Soap ducked into his side finishing off the guy you'd already downed and you stepped into yours.

The first thing you saw was the gun, the second thing you saw was the woman whose head it was being held to. The next thing you saw was the man behind her and his familiar face. Your HVT. Laswell wanted him alive, she’d said that multiple times as you all headed out, but shit happens right? Your ticking clock was already nearing the red zone anyway, it'd taken you and Soap too long to deal with the girl especially without the help of Gaz and Price like you had originally planned. And with Ghost and Konig busy making sure shit didn't hit the fan outside the building before you were all ready to leave there hadn’t been anyone else who could help the both of you secure the second floor.

As Soap exited into the hallway behind you, you heard him call your name. Just a simple callsign, but the man in front of you finally seemed to recognize just who the hell you were. The gun pointed your way in a second as he fired off a shot, inaccurate thanks to the woman he was still holding. You saw the panic in his eyes then, the gun shaking in his hand before he yelled in Farsi, "Back up!" There was still no shot on him and the gun was leveled at the woman once more. Either you comply or you sign her death warrant. Damn if you didn't wish you could put your signature on that blank line, but she was innocent and while you’d done monstrous things you weren’t inherently a monster yourself. This woman was not a player in all of this. She was being used just like most of the women upstairs had been, they didn’t ask to be in this situation.

Comply. You backed up a step and watched as he pushed the woman forward slowly in tandem with each of your steps. Soap was to your left on the side of the door, biding his time surprisingly patiently. Waiting to strike. He wasn’t destined to get it though as the man tossed the woman through the open door and slammed it shut behind her.

You immediately went for the doorknob jiggling the metal quickly as Soap wrangled the woman to the wall, checking her for weapons. You ignored the both of them as you glared at the locked door in front of you. Glass shattered on the other side of the door and you backed up a step before Soap moved to stop you, "Wait!" You hesitated as the Sergeant continued, his hand wrapped around the woman’s arm keeping her in sight at all times, "Man could have a bomb in there, Speck." Your eyes shot back to the closed door, eyes narrowing at the object between you and the man who had tried to kill you.

The desire for vengeance burned deep though as your glare shot back to the Scot. You then answered him cooly, "Better start running then, kid." Gaelic curses and insults followed you as your foot slammed into the door with a hard kick, busting the frame in as you pushed inside. Your gun leveled aimed head level but there was no one else in the room, just a busted window in front of you. Head empty of thought except for two words, 'Fuck it,' you took off after him. At least until Soap's hand grabbed your wrist and he stopped you dead in your tracks just before you painfully wrenched your still healing arm. "What the fuck are-" you stopped when you noticed what the man was looking at.

A case sat at the foot of the bed. It was unopened but there wasn't much else it could be other than the word currently running through your mind, ‘Bomb.’ Your head hit the clouds, too much had run through your mind before this whole thing started. Too much that was too similar to what had ended your last career.

Christ you'd even sent Cerberus away with someone else and now it was going to happen again. You were going to lose it all and it was going to be your fault. At least this time you wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of a monumental fuck up though, huh? The jostling of your injured shoulder pulled you out of your frozen state as Soap shot a glare at you and started to pull you with him along with the woman, "Come on we've got to get the fuck out of here. There is no telling what will set that thing off." That was probably best, yeah. For anyone else anyway.

Part of you truly wanted to follow him, to just leave without worrying about anyone else in the area but you couldn't. Not when you'd already let two of these things go off in the middle of the market because you hadn’t been paying attention. There was no telling how bad this one would be. How many people would die if you stepped away again? That wasn’t something you were willing to go to Hell with on your hands. Your suffering was already gonna be bad enough with that. "Price local law enforcement are gonna be here any second," Ghost’s voice came through your headset.

It distracted Soap long enough for you to pull your arm free and reach for your EOD kit. Squatting down at the foot of the bed even as he let out another string of Gaelic curses. John’s voice came through the headset next, "Soap status on the HVT?" After this was over you really needed to get him to say that more. It sounded truly adorable coming from him with that accent. You could just imagine him staring intently ahead as he asked for your status with that little hat sitting on his head. It brought a smile to your face even as you began inspecting the case.

The Scotsman backed up a couple steps as he watched you begin carefully. Running your hands over the sides of the case as you checked for triggers on the outside. "Potential bomb Price. HVT is gone though, we'll need the family," you could practically hear everyone in the building cursing. You’d lost the only reason you’d come here and it was your fault. You should have been quicker. Should have gone after him. Should have done something more, whatever you could.

No, focus, there was a potential bomb in your hands, you couldn’t afford to be distracted by the shoulda, woulda, couldas. You flipped the top open slowly, still checking for any kind of wire or trigger as you went. As the lid finally opened all the way you sighed and muttered to the man behind you, "Not potential anymore Soap. Definitely a bomb. Get to running," you leaned up to examine it better, listening to the Scotsman relay the information to the rest of the team.

You could hear the approaching sirens literally counting down the time you had left to defuse this damn thing and get out even though there wasn’t a visible timer as of yet. John's commanding voice growled out orders though in your ear, "Everyone get to the van. Bomb isn't our problem, we're leaving." No, the bomb was most certainly your problem. They could leave if they wanted to, in fact you highly encouraged it. You'd rather not have their deaths on your hands when you met your maker.

Ghost didn't hesitate to answer with an affirmative. And Soap was about to as well when he noticed you still weren't moving. Instead you were pulling another tool out of the kit as you ran a delicate touch over a wire. "Speck, come on, we've got to go," he urged you vehemently. You shot him a look but stayed quiet, keeping the majority of your focus on the most pressing matters right now.

No timer meant remote detonation was most probable. Or some kind of trigger in the room maybe. Unless it was a timer but without a face in which case there was no telling how long you had left until it went kaboom. Another smile at the sound effect you made in your mind before Price's voice came through over your headset, "Soap, Speck, do you copy? We're regrouping on the van. It's time to leave." Soap remained stubbornly still right behind you as you worked, still holding the woman by her bicep as he actively refused to answer the man.

A sigh left you as you pulled away from the case and hit your radio growling out a quick, "Copy Cap." You shot another glare towards Soap before you went back to work. He still stayed stubbornly at your side. At least until you said in the calmest tone he'd ever heard for someone messing with a bomb, "You should leave Soap. Make sure the Captain gets Cerberus into the van for me. I'll be there as soon as I'm done here, alright?" He scoffed at that and shook his head.

The man put himself even closer instead with a stubborn look in his eye, "I mean it Soap. You don't even know me. Don't know my name, you don’t know the things I’ve done. I'm not worth you dying over, kid. Besides, your Lieutenant might kill me again if I get you killed too, so please do me a favor and head on out ok? And make sure everyone else gets far away from here." You had a small smile on your mouth as you cut one wire linking a series of secondary detonators to the blasting cap.

Soap watched, his eyes flicking between you, the bomb, and the broken window you had nearly jumped out of. The sirens were nearly outside the building now. Probably trying to get through the crowded streets to the building's location. Slowly he backed up and shook his head, "You better not die here Speck." You gave a low hum of affirmation as he found the door. "And don't get caught either, we'll find you alright?" Another low hum of agreement and Soap took off back down the hall with the woman in tow.

The calm had overtaken you by this point. Feeling the cool chill of ice rush through your veins that cooled your heated body and stopped the adrenaline coursing through you from causing your hands to shake. No more remote detonation, but there was still the timer with an unknown detonation time. The wires were making your head hurt, or was that the law enforcement outside with their raging sirens. No. No it had to be John's voice that was currently yelling into the comms, "Speck get your arse down to the van now!" Yeah, no problem Captain, be there in just a tick. Little bomb humor, it made you smirk as you kept going. Keep a hold of that one for later.

You traced the wire back to the timing device, blinking a couple times as you held it between your thumb and forefinger. Talented at EOD you were not, but you were competent. Still you weren’t completely sure you were correct in your choice this time. The seconds ticked by in your head as you looked down at it. Tracing it once more to double check you held the cutters up to the wire and pursed your lips. You only mess up once right? Fuck it.

The wire split in half and you waited for the bright light. The searing burn that came with the heat of a bomb and the fires of Hell. Instead there was a click from deeper inside the case. Your heart stopped and you sucked in a breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what did you miss? You'd checked every inch of that bomb, what could you have possibly missed? You’d already disconnected the remote detonator. And the secondary tripwire triggers. Nothing, you hadn't missed a single thing. Your uptick in heartbeat slowly calmed again as you realized the click had been the bomb disarming. Holy shit you hadn't just killed yourself and countless people. Oh thank fuck.

Time to get out of here before you got yourself killed. You grabbed your EOD kit and closed it up, loading your gear back into the pouch at your side. As you slung your gun over your shoulder you heard something clink behind you and turned just in time to see the small looking canister on the ground. Ah shit. It went off right before your eyes and everything went white, your ears ringing as it disoriented every sense you had.

Your head tumbled dizzily with vertigo and you felt yourself stumbling backwards through a minefield of obstacles. Hands grasping desperately for anything to hold onto and keep yourself from falling onto the floor of the room. When your knees buckled and you felt like you were free falling though you felt bile rise in your stomach. The fuck? It wasn’t a grenade, shit was a flashbang what the hell had just happened?

The drop was long and good God did it hurt the second your body hit the ground, nearly falling on your head. Where the fuck were you? What the hell was going on? The bile in your stomach rose again before you could stop it and you turned on an elbow, the few contents in your stomach spilling onto someone’s shoes that had rushed to help you before they too scrambled backwards.

Pain coursed through your body as you stared up at the window you'd just stumbled out of and onto main street out front of the warehouse below. People screamed around you and backed up from your form. You were laid out on the ground on your back now. Your rifle laid across your stomach as you groaned and tried to push yourself up. You needed to go. Move Speck. Get the fuck out of here. Now Speck. Go! Move you idiot!

You stood slowly as the doors of the warehouse opened and you saw the officers beginning to file out, looking for you. Your eyes darted back and forth for some kind of escape route that didn't involve heading anywhere near them. If you didn't get off the main street right now though you'd be in a Pakistani prison by nightfall. You put your back to the officers filing out as you pulled at the straps of the helmet, taking it off of your head as you tried your best to blend in for as long as you could.

Don't look back, just keep walking Speck. You could feel the strap of your gun tugging at your neck as you went. It kept you as hidden as you could in the sea of bodies as the officers searched for you. The crowd was parting around you though like the red sea did for Moses. The second you heard the officers yelling you took off as fast as you could. Don’t look back, just go, the last thing you needed was to get caught.

Darting down an alley you tried to shake your tail in the maze of alleys and backstreets, but they knew the city better than you could ever hope to. Don't stop running though, not until sirens disappear, Speck. Your feet pounded against the hard ground, gun strap around your shoulder as you fled the scene. Another street was ahead, the only option you had for escape at this point. You certainly couldn't head back the way you'd come, not with the officers you knew were currently trying to track you down. Fuck it.

You sprinted towards the street but before you got there the cargo van skidded to a halt in front of you. Brakes and tires squealing in the effort. How the fuck had they found you? The back doors flung open and Soap and Gaz hopped out. Watching the way you were coming from with their guns raised. A few shots popped off behind you and they were quick to return the fire. John looked around the side of the door and yelled, "Get in! We are leaving!" Good enough for you. You hauled ass towards them, John reaching a hand out to pull you up into the van as you hopped inside. Soap and Gaz right behind you as they fired off a couple more shots.

The second John yelled, "Go, go, go!" The van took off before the doors had even shut. Watcher quite literally floored it as John, Soap, and Gaz worked together to pull the doors closed. You were leaning against the side of the van as the Captain whirled on you. Fire swam in his eyes. Barely controlled anger obvious on his features, "What the fuck were you thinking? Were you even thinking?" Indignation flared in your mind as you stood up straight. He was hot when he was angry sure but his questions raised that rebellious side of your mind and your chin lifted and your shoulders squared in response.

The need to rebel against the man trying to put you down fueled your actions, no one questioned your decisions but you. Even when you knew you'd be kicking yourself for it later you couldn't help yourself but to shoot back, "I was thinking I could keep a lot of people from dying. I was thinking I could do my job," you managed to growl out through gritted teeth. A much deeper growl came from behind the false wall and you heard the loud barks echoing through the small space. Claws scratched vigorously as Cerberus tried to get through to you.

John wasn't done with you though, his hand grabbing one of the straps on your vest and forcing you to lock your eyes on him, "I wasn't looking for an actual answer. Keep your mouth in check or I'll do it for you." Your teeth clenched together, watching as he stared down at you. The tension in the van was palpable as he reamed you verbally. Not even Cerberus' thunderous barking could break the attention the both of you had on one another. His anger was a front for his worry. You could see it in his eyes as the waves of fury danced in his eyes, parting for just a quick moment as he let you see it.

Your lips pursed, suffocating your own anger at being questioned, "Copy that, sir," you forced out. Watching as his eyes flicked down to your mouth you continued to stare hard at him. You wanted to call him out, say something that made him understand, but he didn’t need to know the guilt you felt. The guilt you always carried strapped to your back. His hand in your vest pushed you a bit harder, your back hitting the metal hard and drawing out a huff of pain from you in response.

The blue eyes staring down at you narrowed slightly before he growled, "When I give you an order you follow it. I say get back to the van, you get there like your life depends on it because it probably does." John stopped, his gaze not softening in the slightest as you gave him a quick nod of understanding despite the fire in your eyes. His hand loosened in the strap of your vest before he stepped back with a sigh and shook his head. His eyes found the two Sergeants staring between the two of you then, the both of them staying quiet in the suffocating tension. "What are you two looking at?" Soap and Gaz immediately shook their heads in answer, hands raising as they quietly claimed their innocence.

It was the first time you'd had a chance to glance around the back of the van. Ghost was watching with his arms crossed against the other wall. You hadn’t even realized that he too was back here. When a pothole rocked the entire van, everyone immediately reached for the nearest thing they could hold onto. Ghost found the wall behind him just as you did the same on your side. Soap and Gaz braced themselves against the doors and one another. John, who was standing in the middle of the van, fell backwards against you.

He tensed the moment he touched you as you steadied him with an arm around his waist. One of his hands slapped over the back of your own hand currently braced against the wall. While the finger’s of his left latched onto your forearm. Heat flared over your skin as he touched it, the calluses of his palm catching against the hair of your arms. Damn he felt good like this. His back pressing firmly against your chest as you held him against you with one arm. Barely catching yourself before you pressed your lips to his just barely exposed neck.

Your mouth would fit just perfectly right above that tan and black bandana he was wearing. Just lean up to that space right below his hairline where you could see that little string that kept his boonie hat in place. Standing up a bit taller you very nearly did it, blinking a couple times as you remembered just where the hell you were and the fact you had been at each other’s throats not even fifteen seconds ago. Your arm released like you’d been burned by a stove or something and you stepped back, moving your hand to the rifle instead as you huffed.

John seemed just as tense still as he adjusted his bandana, pulling it up at the back and refusing to turn around to look at you. Thankfully no one else seemed to have noticed your impulse control issues. How very near you came to kissing their Captain right in front of them. Soap walked right on by you towards the false wall and released the latch. In the next second a big body shot through the opening he created. Cerberus found your legs immediately, his ears pinned back against his head, tail wagging nervously behind him, and quiet yips like a puppy left his maw.

Soap snorted at the sight and opened the false wall the rest of the way to find that the separator that closed off the small cubby to the front of the van was closed as well. You kneeled down with the dog, whispering quietly to him as you fought to calm him down. When Soap opened the front false wall you glanced up to see Konig’s wide eyes staring from the passenger seat as he said, “Is the dog calmed down now?” His voice was a little higher in pitch than normal, like he was trying to hide his fear.

Your head tilted as Soap gave a slow nod, brows from around the back furrowed in confusion at Konig’s comment. The Sergeant stepped out of the way so Konig could see you with Cerberus on the ground, his belly up in the air in front of you. “I thought he was going to eat me. He did not like your yelling Captain, scared me to death,” you hid your smile as you pressed a free hand into your mouth. The other still running soothingly over the dog’s stomach.

John huffed and shook his head, “S’pose not. Speck needed to hear it though,” he grumbled as he found himself a seat against the wall and Konig made his way into the back once more. Everyone seemed to settle down after that, tiredness after a mission nearly being absolutely fucked weighing on everyone’s frayed nerves.

The only place left for you to sit as everyone piled into the little cubby of the van though was of course next to John. No sense in drawing this awkwardness out though, best not to make it obvious how averse you were to taking a seat beside the brunette. It wasn’t lost on him though, you felt his gaze on you, scalding your face with heat. When you glanced his way though he crossed his arms over his chest, shut his eyes, and tilted his head back against the cool metal of the van. You had a feeling you would end up regretting your decision to stay behind when he got the chance to get you alone later.

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awooga-llama · 2 years

Text

The Ocean

Technoblade x NB Child! Reader

I should've posted this earlier but couldn't bring myself too.

This is for you buddy. Though you'd sometimes get your mythology facts wrong and cause me to yell at you through my phone. Without you my minecraft persona would've never existed. 💙

In the early days of the SMP all was good. Flowers sprouted, animals wandered, and there was laughter. Through the (Y/E/C) eyes of three year old (Y/N) the world was perfect. They strolled through the tall fields behind their grandfather's house as their two uncles searched for them. (Y/N) wasn't supposed to be outside because of their allergies and all the things that could hurt them. Before leaving this morning they had heard their father tell his brothers if anything happened to his child they'd both be dead. Whether if the injury is as small as an ant bite he would hurt them worse. So the uncles did their best to keep (Y/N) in sight at all times, not letting the toddler even look outside because the sun could blind 'em.

"(Y/N) where are you? This isn't funny anymore you little shit." Uncle Tommy called out from far left. The child could hear Wilby scolding his brother for the type of language he used only for Tommy to snap back with, "Well the Blade literally calls them an orphan, what's worse?"

The child just smiled to themselves as they reached a patch of grassy dirt with nothing but blue flowers growing on it. The ground was soft and cool under their feet. In the distance, they could see the ocean. It looked so inviting and inviting looking like they could easily jump right into it. But they didn't know how to swim so jumping into the water would mean going to the doctor and then having to sit in that chair until someone decided they were okay enough to go home. Even when they tried to play outside without a their father or any other guardian watching over them, they never got to experience such joy like the ocean did.

"I found them! Over there!" Wilbur shouted from up behind. The two men came running down the hill. They skidded to a stop as they finally caught sight of (Y/N).

"(Y/N), darling please stop running, we don't want to play anymore." (Y/N) ran away farther from the duo. Their little legs aching slightly but still pumping, being fueled by adrenaline. The small child was filled with excitement. They couldn't remember the last time they felt so alive and free. It wasn't long before they lost sight of the adults who ran after them. Now it was just the wind, the birds chirping above them, and the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore. That's when the feeling hit them; pain. All over.

They cried out, their body collapsing onto the ground while clutching their stomach. Tears streamed down their face. They thought something had happened to their father since the two had a link shared where they could feel the other one's pain. Maybe they were being abandoned again or maybe they died. The child was breathing heavily. Were they dying? They tried to stay awake but it was getting harder to breathe. The child began falling towards the earth. As soon as they touched the ground everything went black.

---

"No no no! Wake up (Y/N)." A man's voice rang out. A deep voice but not harsh, comforting almost. But the man was calling too loud, his voice was loud. And it made everything much more painful. Everything felt warm and fuzzy except for their head and stomach.

"You open those (Y/E/C)ed eyes right now!" Another man yelled. His voice was closer than the first one. He sounded angry. Angry and worried. (Y/N) couldn't make sense of why he'd be worried though. It's not like the man cared. The voices continued to speak louder. Each time it felt worse. There was an ache in their whole chest and stomach. Like something inside their heart or lungs was about to explode. Then everything became dark.

"Child wake up!" Someone was shaking them violently. (Y/N)'s body jolted awake and they began to cry and whimper. (Y/N) felt their head throbbing. Everything seemed blurry around the edges.

"Shh orphan, everything's okay. Everything's okay, I promise." The man said, holding the crying child close to him and rocking them gently. The child began to calm. Soon the tears stopped and their breathing slowed. They reconized the man in front of them.

"Dada!" The little one squealed, throwing their arms around the pigmen's neck, squeezing tightly. Uncle Wilbur arrived finally panting heavily. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an inhaler giving it to Technoblade, who put it to the child's lips. They quickly sucked in the breath which helped the dizziness subside.

They let go, sitting back against Techno's lap and resting his hands on top of theirs. The warrior kissed their forehead as Wilbur took the inhaler back from his brother's fingers and put it in his own pocket. Tommy sat nearby mumbling under his breath not as angry anymore but still worried. The other two men fussed over the three year old for a little longer before deciding it was wise to head home. Philza was probably pulling his hair out in fear of what could've happened while he slept.

Techno stood up cradling their tiny body in his arms. He glanced at his brothers before saying, "Let's get them home." And headed towards the path through the meadow with (Y/N) held tight in his arms. (Y/N) laid limp between the pigmen's chest breathing in his familiar cologne. They felt themself get sleepy but still had one last question before giving in.

"Daddy, can we go to the ocean tomorrow?" The child questioned in a soft whisper, closing their eyes and smiling to themselves. (Y/N) hadn't seen the ocean since the day they were brought here. They'd seen pictures of it but it just didn't feel real. They weren't convinced, quite the skeptic just like their father. (Y/N) could feel their father breathe out deeply and her uncles bickering at each other nearby as they walked.

"Sure thing Orphan. But only after I have a long talk with your uncles." The child nodded and yawned.

"Don't yell at them too much please Dada. I want to see them again in the future." Techno laughed quietly and nuzzled the child in his arms.

"Sure thing kiddo, now sleep.child You ran a long ways from home which means an even longer walk." (Y/N) sighed tiredly and closed their eyes. Within seconds they were snoring softly in Techno's arms. They were so precious and innocent. He didn't deserve the child but would gladdly be there for the trouble they will get into, dragging his brothers into it with them. He couldn't wait.

#technoblade #technoblade x reader #techno x child #technoblade x you #comfort dsmp #techno x y/n #wilbur soot #tommyinit dsmp #dsmp fanfic #cute fluff #oneshot

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batsgetscensored · 2 years

Text

You're Not Leaving This Bed

Pairing: Leon x Male reader

Rating: SFW | Fluff (has a brief moment where it is suggestive)

Parts: 1/1

Word count: there's an amount here.

A/N: Self indulgence is such a hard habit to break huh? I'm feeling like I'm on a small- miniscule- itty bitty roll right now. So I'm gonna keep writing stuff till I lose inspo.

"No, you can't get up. You're my prisoner for today."

You and your stubbornness. You refused to let him get away so easily and you didn't even have to try. The thought made him smile, watching as you shifted in your sleep, the sun streaming from the bedroom window. It seemed you two forgot to shut the blinds last night- oh well. Seeing the golden rays cascade over your form was something that made up for being temporarily blinded.

Leon loved the soft moments you and he spent together- cherished them. For years he didn't get much of this, too focused on his job to really put effort into having a proper relationship- even if he had wanted one. Then you came along.

He carefully reached forward, brushing your (h/c) hair from your face, careful as to not wake you. He knew if you woke up you'd have to go and get yourself a cup of coffee- unless he was lucky this time and you lingered with him.

Leon pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and lingered for a moment, only pulling back to smile and let out the softest chuckle at hearing you let out a tired whine.

"Leon?" Your voice was soft, thick with sleep, and your hands instantly grabbed at him until he rolled his eyes playfully and scooted closer, letting you wrap your arms around him.

"You're awake early." Leon whispered, smoothing his hand up and down your back. "Go back to bed sweetheart."

"You know I can't." You replied with a bit of a pout, nuzzling just that much closer. "I should make a coffee-"

And there it was. The sentence he hated hearing.

"Not a chance." Leon replied easily, winding his arms around you when he noted your attempt to get out of bed. There was no way he would allow this. When it looked like you were about to argue, he fixed you with an intense look. "No, you can't get up. You're my prisoner for today."

You looked at him in disbelief, shaking your head and chuckling. "You're such a clingy man sometimes." You teased, voice like honey. You loved when he got like this, giving in and cuddling into the man's chest again

Leon kissed your forehead firmly and then kissed down the bridge of your nose to your lips. "You love it when I'm like this." He all but purred, continuing to leave feather light kisses across your soft skin.

Rolling your eyes, you nodded, capturing his lips in a firm kiss. It was loving and intense for what it was, and Leon was clearly more than happy to keep the action going as long as you both possibly could and that was fair. You both didnt want to pull back.

His hands smoothed down the flat expanse of your chest and then lower down your abdomen, fingers brushing over your happy trail and attempting to move lower when you grasped him by the wrist.

"Ah ah ah, not before I've had my coffee. You know the rules." You stuck your tongue out.

Leon huffed but nodded, pulling his hand back from your groin. "Fine, I'll wait. But you're gonna get it later."

You ran a hand through your hair, kissing his cheek. "Dont I know it." You mused, slipping your arms around his waist and tenderly rubbing his back. "I'm not leaving this bed any time soon though, am I?"

"Not for another hour at least."

#leon x male reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #sfw drabble #drabble #oc x canon drabble #x male reader

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brooklyns-writing-corner · 2 years

Text

This is my first entry for the 12 Days of Spones event! It's a bit late, I know, but this is the first time I have some free time to do it. I hope you like it, @fuckyeahspones!

Day 1: White

Snow blankets the ground outside and glistens as the rising sun's first rays of day peak over the horizon. The snow takes on a warm gold hue it creates something absolutely magnificent. This was one of the few reasons why Leonard loved winter.

It was early morning and a content smile settled on the doctor's features as a content feeling washed over him. He lay bundled underneath the bed covers that were pulled up to his chin. His head had sunken into his plush pillow. The drapes were drawn closed still, so not much light streamed in to wake him--it was nice, and it just made him not want to move at all. All was silent and still.

Speaking of, there was a soft inhale from the individual that lay with Leonard in that same bed. Spock turned onto his side and draped an arm around where his husband's waist would be. His head rested behind Leonard's, his breath warm against his skin. Leonard took in a deep breath and exhaled, allowing the rest of his muscles to relax completely.

They lay there long enough that eventually Leonard falls back into sleep. The next time he does fully wake up is around a half hour later. He blinked away the weight of sleep from his eyes as he rolls onto his back slowly. The brunet stretches his legs, his blanket cacoon coming loose. A yawn escaped his mouth and he lifted a hand to his head. With his other hand he felt around for Spock, but the Vulcan wasn't there, to his disappointment. He couldn't help but let a small frown slip into view.

Leonard lifted his head from his pillow and briefly glanced around the room. The bedroom was a simple design and arrangement of furniture: on the far side of the room--across from the doorway-- was the bed, covered in a navy blue comforter that Leonard found fitting to his liking (but not completed without the dark green thin sheets underneath it to contrast); the walls painted white with accents of sky blue, courtesy of the carpet and drapes that hung over the blinds. But there was no sign of Spock.

It was likely that his "dark and mysterious" husband was off doing his meditation. So, he was led to getting out of bed and following example.

It would be on (most to every) mornings that Leonard joined Spock in on meditating to release the tension in his aching body, as well as the unsettling thoughts that haunted him in the corners of his mind. You could say that it freed him from his demons--to which some extent it did, but most of the healing was done by Spock.

Spock always was the one to save Leonard from straying thoughts. He was the light that shone brightly amongst the darkness, and he always managed to free him. Even when he "got on his nerves" sometimes, he found a way to make him smile. His nights never were lonely again because Spock was forever in his presence. And for as long as they lived they would forever be together.

"Forever together and always," Leonard softly said to himself. He now stood from the bed and the sheets on his side of the bed were unmade. He held his hands and raised them high above his head, stretching away whatever tiredness there was.

It didn't take him much longer to meet Spock in the living room, where he sat with his legs folded and his fingers poised. His complexion was relaxed and a tinge of green could be visible in his cheeks. Attempting to not break the peace, Leonard sat beside him in the same position, also closing his eyes and taking slow deep breaths.

A giddy feeling suddenly bubbled up in the pit of Leonard's stomach but he quickly pushed it down. He would have to wait until a little later before his excitement could burst. But it was already too late, because Spock, too, felt a rush of excitement through their bond. Opening his eyes he looked over to his partner.

"Good morning, Ashayam," he greeted softly with a twitch of the lips. "I take it you slept well last night."

Leonard's eyes re-opened at the sound of Spock's voice and he bashfully looked over. He offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, darlin'," he chuckled before nodding. "Just feeling good on this fine December morning."

"Might I query if this day has a significance?" The Vulcan rose an eyebrow at him. Leonard laughed.

Shaking his head he said, "Nothin' you needn't worry about." He kissed his cheek. "How about we head out after breakfast, eh? Look for ideas to get each other for Christmas?"

Spock seemed to contemplate this a moment before nodding. "It would seem logical; I would be satisfied to be in your company today." It didn't go unnoticed by either of them that Leonard had been quite busy at the hospital this past week. It was especially around this time of year that most accidents happened: someone slipping on ice, falling through frozen lakes, you name it. Leonard has seen all of it, and even with today's niceties there were still people who got injured around the holidays. (Some of it was due to reckless kids not being too careful.)

To know that Leonard would be able to spend an entire day off work and with Spock, they found more enthralling than ever. They took whatever time they could spend together, and that was more than enough to ask for--it was a gift given every time.

Breakfast seem to fly by for Leonard. His thoughts were consumed, but not in the kind of way you would think. Spock himself could feel the rising adrenaline through their bond, making him all the more curious.

Spock's arm is looped around Leonard's as they have decided earlier to take a walk. The Vulcan (being used to warmer climates) grew cold quicker than his significant other as they made their way through the snow-covered streets. Everywhere you looked was covered all in white, it became a winter wonderland. The city was especially beautiful during its winter days ("It's a known fact that winter's the most romantic season of all," Leonard had said).

The couple went on a little longer, making the occasional stops at shops to warm up before back outside again. Leonard now had his arm wrapped around Spock's waist and pulling him closer for warmth. The sight was beautiful, Spock was too entrapped by it that he didn't notice when they arrived at the next shop. Brought back into the moment of walking in, Spock brought his mitten-covered hands and blew into them.

The shop they stood in currently was a pet shop containing all sorts of species of animals: dogs, lizards, cats, (surprisingly) tribbles, etc. Like all other things, it didn't look quite big until you saw what was inside. At first Spock assumed they would head out just as soon as they warmed up, but out of unexpectance he watched Leonard walk up to one of the workers at the counter. He seemed to ask her something before she walked away with a nod of her head.

Spock walked up beside him. "Was it your intention on coming here?" His voice contained an accent of amusement as he raised his brow again.

Leonard gave him a sideways glance and smirked. He mostly ignored Spock's questions as they waited in the store; the only answers given were vague. Spock could only feel the excitement--that was all he would get until the employee came back.

In both her arms was a cage turned facing her. A kind smile graced her features as she approached and set the cage down on the counter. "Sorry for the wait: took a bit to find her among all the other animals."

Leonard nodded with a chuckle as he pulled out his chip. "It's the holidays after all."

It was only safe to assume that while Spock wasn't around, Leonard took his chance to stop by the pet shop and discover an animal for them to take home. Now the Vulcan contained an eagerness that was his alone, and it was evident that Leonard, too, felt it.

The cage was slowly turned ninety degrees and the employee extended her arm inside the cage. What came into view made Spock's eyes go slightly wide. It was a rabbit with a thick coat of white, soft fur. Her ears rested back on her neck as the employee ran a gentle hand over them. She held the snowy-white animal out and Spock carefully took her into his own arms. He was in awe and at a loss for words.

Leonard laughed again and wrapped an arm around his husband's shoulders. "Merry early Christmas, darlin'," he kissed his cheek.

Spock genuinely smiled as he ran a hand along the rabbit's fur. He met Leonard's eyes with his own endearing ones. He placed a soft kiss to lips. "Thank you, Ashayam." He glanced back down to the adorable animal still in his arms.

"What shall we call her?"

Leonard hummed for a minute. "I remember you talking about once having a pet sehlat." His voice was suggestive and sincere. He heard about how the beloved animal died, and ever since then he's attempted to try to find another sehlat for Spock.

Later during his search--when he couldn't find a sehlat on Earth--it dawned on Leonard that it might've been insensitive decision to get a replacement for the childhood pet. It would be best to make new memories with a new animal that both he and Spock could care for together. That's what led to him ending his search here, at the pet shop just three blocks away from their home.

Spock's eyes become glazed by tears. "I-chaya," he said, trying the name out for the first time in awhile. He nods. "I-chaya."

#brooks writes #star trek #spock #leonard mccoy #spones #12daysofspones #christmas #fluff #rabbit #star trek the original series #star trek tos #tos #leonard bones mccoy #s'chn t'gai spock #i chaya

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

With you, he wants it all.

Part 2!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1! Also, I totally meant to post this earlier but Taylor Swift’s new album wrecked my plans.

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her.

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker

Word Count: 9972

The next time you wake up, the room is significantly brighter. You feel around in the cold bed, realizing Spencer isn’t there anymore. You have to force yourself to open your eyes to combat the overwhelming urge to roll over and sleep for another twelve hours. The clock reads 12:07. You can’t help but think you deserve more sleep as you force yourself into a sitting position. Once you finally sit up, you hear someone shuffling around, whispering in the other room. It’s too quiet to try to make out the voice, but you definitely heard something. Without too much thought, you quickly jump out of bed, grabbing the only thing you can find that even remotely resembles a weapon- the bible from the hotel drawer.

Slowly, you push the door open, getting ready to make a break for the door to the hallway at the first sign of danger. Remembering everything from yesterday has you on edge as you move toward the kitchen area, looking for anything out of place. You duck around the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room only to find it empty. As you finally let your guard down, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Without thinking, you turn around getting ready to slam the book into whoever is touching you.

Spencer catches your arms before you hit him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, dropping the book and hugging Spencer.

“I’m sorry! I just heard a noise and you weren’t in bed anymore and I wasn’t sure where you went and I wanted to make sure nobody else was in the room, but I-“

“It’s okay. Just breathe.” Spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cling to him as if your life depends on it. A few minutes pass, before you calm down enough to pull out of the hug. You run a shaky hand through your hair, moving to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

“I put the coffee on so you can grab some when it’s done. I’m going to get dressed so we can figure out where we want to go for inspiration today!” You wink at Spencer before heading back into the bedroom to shower and change. You throw on a pair of jeans and a light sweater after squeezing the extra water out of your hair. You like to let it dry naturally on days like this.

You make your way back into the kitchen only to find Spencer has already changed into a navy and white plaid button down, khakis, and a navy cardigan. He is sitting at the table drinking his coffee when you enter the room. You immediately put the kettle on, reaching into the cabinet to pull out your tea collection.

“No coffee for you?” Spencer asks, gesturing to the half full pot on the counter.

“Oh, nope. Not for me. It’s only palatable if I add way to much sugar and then I get all antsy. I only have coffee if I have a really good reason to stay up.” You chuckle as you add the teabag to the mug you set on the counter. You sit on the counter, swinging your legs as you sip your tea.

“So, where do you want to go?”

“For what?” Spencer pretends to not know what you’re talking about.

“It’s time to start writing silly!” You grin at his deer in a headlights expression. “Spencer, I told you not to worry. We are just looking for general ideas right now. Anything that could potentially lead to a song. It’s more fun to observe others during this part of the process because the ideas are less specific.”

“I don’t even know where to start!” He actually seems nervous about this.

“Spence, let’s just go to your favorite coffee shop. And don’t tell me that you don’t have one. You’ve already drunk half that pot of coffee.”

“Why my favorite?” He actually looks taken aback at the suggestion.

“Well, for one because I’m not from here, so I don’t know where to go.” You try to backpedal, but you’ve started a list. Something he is all too eager to point out. “And two?” He’s got his brows furrowed, a look of pure confusion adorning his face.

“If it’s your favorite, then you’ve been there before.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well yes, but your point?” The confusion is still present, but his words are laced with exasperation.

“You might just be comfortable enough in your surroundings to suggest a song idea.” You shrug as you say it, trying to make it feel more casual.

“You considered whether or not I would be comfortable?” He seems genuinely surprised now.

“Of course. I want you to help me, so I gotta butter you up.” You try to cover up your blush with a joke.

“Thank you.” HIs words seem surprised, but the two of you move on. Spencer grabs his satchel, and you your jacket, as the two of you exit the hotel to head to the café. You opt for walking since the weather is not too hot. You don’t say much during the walk. After the moment in the kitchen, you feel a bit nervous. A few fans stop you along the way for a picture or an autograph, but mostly you just enjoy each other’s company. Nobody pays much attention to Spencer, rather opting to ignore him to get your attention. Every time someone comes up to you; you make a point to say excuse me or smile at him before addressing the fans though. You just don’t want him to feel left out or like he’s not important.

You finally make it to the café. Spencer opens the door before guiding you in, again placing his hand on your back. You thank him as you make your way up to the counter to order. You order a chai latte for yourself, gesturing for Spencer to order his when the barista asks you if you need anything else. You make sure to add two scones to the order before sliding your card into the machine before Spencer has a chance.

“It’s my fault you’re here with me, so please. My treat.” He shakes his head slightly, a small smile forming on his face.

“How many times do I have to tell you, none of this is your fault?” He gives you a look as you two move to find a table after accepting the scones.

“I know.” You don’t sound sure as you take your seat. He doubles down the staring as you continue. “I promise. I know. It was just a joke.” You sound more sure of yourself that time, earning another smile from Spencer.

The barista brings you your drinks as you settle into the corner booth. You set your phone up on the table, pulling up the recording from yesterday. You pass Spencer your headphones from your purse so he can listen to what you’ve already come up with.

You take this time to really study him. The sun’s rays are streaming in through the blinds on the window, causing slight shadows to drift across his features. You take in the sharp lines of his jaw as he turns to look around the café, listening to the various melodies and lyrics you sang for the team. His brown locks appear golden as the sunlight reflect off the highlights. He’s sporting a slight stubble from not shaving for a few days. His hazel eyes drift across the faces of everyone in the room, not settling for long on any one person.

You shift your attention to his hands. He has one draped across the table, lightly tapping along as he listens. His long fingers are mesmerizing. You begin to recognize he is tapping out the melodies as if he were playing the piano. The other hand is wrapped around his coffee cup. You bite your lip as you think about all the things those hands are capable of. Your mind wonders as you stare. You are staring so intently at the way his hand grips the cup, you don’t notice when he removes the headphones.

Spencer clears his throat to catch your attention. “That was incredible. How do you come up with ideas so fast?” He looks like he knows exactly what you were thinking, but is too kind to bring it up. He’s just doing his job, and this isn’t a date.

“Oh, um thanks. I guess the BAU is just full of inspiration. The song writing process is a little different every time, but sometimes I can think of random lyrics and melodies.” You try to smile as you force yourself to focus. “Think back to a time where you felt an emotion really strongly. It can be whatever emotion you want. Then, try to put it into words. I like to use common phrases or metaphors because it can be fun to twist it into something new.” You close your eyes as you think back to how you felt the moment you understood there was a man out there killing people because he is obsessed with you. Maybe it’s a little too soon to write that one out. The idea does give you another way to explain it to Spencer. “It’s kind of like therapy. You can talk out your feelings and share them with people. It’s just a bit more public.” Spencer looks like he’s contemplating his entire life as you sit in this coffee shop.

“Spence,” you say it lightly to draw him out of his own thoughts, “don’t worry about it. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. Why don’t we try something else?” He looks grateful as he nods. “Great. Pick out someone in the coffee shop, preferably part of a group.” He looks around before his eyes settle on someone.

“Okay, now tell me what they’re thinking about.” He looks confused, like a lost puppy. “It’s called people watching. Just make up a story about what they might be doing here.”

You and Spencer discuss ideas for the next few hours. He picked out a young man, maybe about 19 years old. He was clearly here with friends trying to catch a break from studying if the backpacks on the floor were any hint. Spencer noticed all of that immediately of course, being that he is a profiler.

His story sounded just like the profile Hotch told you yesterday, although much less horrifying.

“White male, late teens to early twenties. He is likely a STEM major. This is the first time he has let loose in a while, normally choosing to forego the party life for studying. He likely has immense pressure on him from his family to succeed and do well in school.” You nod along, not having any idea where this information is really coming from. He sounds so confident, you can’t help but ask how he knows all that.

“You’re incredible. How did you figure all that out?” You stare in wonder at the man across from you. He doesn’t meet your eye, but responds nonetheless.

“His age is fairly obvious to observe. His bag is fuller than the others, indicating a major that requires more coursework. He keeps checking his watch, almost as if he knows he is wasting time that could be spent working toward a goal. The family pressure can be inferred by the other behavior. It is more likely a young adult is studious due to a strict upbringing with a focus on work ethic and goal-driven activities.”

“Amazing.” You sigh as you look around the room. “My turn.” You point to a couple sitting a few tables away from you. “Those two are exploring the possibility of taking their relationship past that of friendship. They obviously like each other and are too nervous to say anything.” Almost as if to prove you aren’t a profiler, the two lean across the table for a kiss. You laugh it off, knowing it’s just a game for you.

“Or maybe not. Either way, their song would be about new love. Something slow and pretty.” You smile as you turn back to Spencer. “Your turn again!”

The two of you go back and forth a few times. His stories were really just profiles, but after a few tries he leaned into the fun, game-like nature of people watching. Of course, his last story didn’t stray too far from profiling, but it was much more dreamlike in the way he presented it.

“The woman sitting by the window,” he said, subtly pointing to an older woman at a table alone, “she’s waiting to see her grandkids for the first time in years. Of course, she’s excited to see them again, but she’s nervous. What if they don’t like her? What if she can’t patch things up with her… I’m guessing daughter?” You smile brightly at the story. Family moments were usually the most inspiring for generic song ideas.

“Good job, Spence! What would the song be about?” The question clearly caught him off guard. For the past few stories, you asked how he came to those conclusions. It was so fascinating to hear how his mind works. This time though, you thought he could really be on to something. You give him an encouraging nod, as you set your phone up to record again.

“It could be about- about family.” He states it so firmly; you know he wants to say more. “She is sitting there thinking about the memories she has with her own parents and grandparents, so the song could be a reflection on days spent enjoying their company. Maybe future memories they can make together.” He smiles, albeit shyly.

“That is a really good idea! It fits with the vibe of the lyrics I came up with for Rossi.” You see the moment it clicks in his head. I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.

He actually seems pleased with himself now. “We could work on that one tomorrow. We should get up and walk around though, we’ve been sitting here for hours.” You reach for his hand as you scoot out of the booth, pulling him along with you.

You stuff your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker as you head outside. You feel an overwhelming desire to be close to him, but you don’t want to overstep. The early evening crowd is out and about, bumping into the two of you as you walk back to the hotel at a leisurely pace.

“Why don’t we go order some room service and just hang out for the rest of the night? All that people watching was exhausting.” You turn to grin up at him as you continue walking. He hums in response, looking down at you in return. You swear you can feel the mood shifting, but the moment is broken by a tap on your arm. You turn to examine the source of the interruption only to find a little girl who couldn’t be more than 10 years old.

“Hi there!” You squeeze Spencer’s arm before ducking down to talk to the little girl. “Are you parents here?” She nods turning to look at a couple a few feet behind her, slightly out of breath, as if they just chased her down the street.

“Carly! Honey, you can’t run off like that! You could have gotten hurt!” The man scolds her, but is clearly relieved she didn’t get away from them.

“Sorry daddy! I just wanted to say hi to Miss Y/N! She sings my favorite song ever!” You wave at the parents before turning your attention back to the little girl.

“Hi Carly, it’s nice to meet you! You really do need to be careful though. You should always stick with the adults so you don’t get lost.” Your voice is playful, but your expression is serious. The only way to truly convey that message to a child you have no parental claim to. She nods in response.

“Mommy! Take a picture!” You pose with the girl as her mom takes a picture.

“We’re so sorry for interrupting your date! She just saw you and took off down the sidewalk.” You blush at what the woman is implying about you and Spencer, not daring to look at him.

“No worries at all. I’m always happy to meet a fan. Have a good night!” You wave goodbye, linking your arm with Spencer’s as you start to walk. He gives you a curious look, but you just laugh before joking “What? It’s so I don’t get lost.” He chuckles at your childlike behavior, but shifts so you can hold him closer.

The rest of the walk is peaceful. You don’t see any more fans, which is good because you aren’t paying enough attention to anything at the moment. You keep picturing the look on Spencer’s face right before the little girl interrupted you. What was about to happen?

Before you know it, you and Spencer are back in the room. He steps into the kitchen to call Hotch while you call to order dinner. You change into the FBI sweatshirt from yesterday and a pair of sleep shorts before settling on the couch to wait for Spencer. A few minutes later, he joins you on the couch after he hangs up. “The team has ruled out all the performers. It’s not surprising as the unsub wouldn’t be brave enough to perform for a crowd. They are still working through the lists of vendors and crew members.”

“Good. That’s progress. Progress is good.” You nod to yourself, trying to convince yourself everything is normal.

“Talk to me, what’s going on inside your head?” Spencer reaches out to take your hand while you stare at the ground.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just hard. It’s hard to have such an amazing day and then think about how it only happened because people are being killed. I guess I feel guilty.” You keep going before he can interrupt you. “I know it’s not my fault that this guy is out there doing horrible things, but I still feel bad for enjoying myself while it’s happening.” You don’t have any tears left to cry. You look over to Spencer to find him staring back at you.

“Y/N, you are such a selfless person. There isn’t anything else you can do right now. We haven’t had any more victims, likely because nobody has posted about how excited they are for your shows since we still have 13 days before the next one. We are going to catch this guy.” You form your mouth into a soft smile before nodding at him. “What movie do you want to watch?”

You smile at his attempt to distract you. “You pick. Anything that will take my mind off things, but not require too much thinking.”

Spencer is racking his brain for a movie that fits your description when you hear a knock on the door. “Must be the food, I’ll get it.” When you return with the food, you find Spencer still thinking over movie choices.

“Okay, how about this. What do you like to watch when you really need a pick me up?”

Again he looks surprised that you would take his opinion into account. “Um, usually Doctor Who, but that’s not a movie it’s a-”

“TV show. Right. Is that the one where they fly around in a telephone booth?”

“First of all, it's a police box, not a phone booth. Second of all, Doctor Who started a quarter of century before Bill and Ted even went on their bodacious adventures. So really, they should just call it Bill and Ted's excellent rip-off, I mean at least then...”

You listen as he rambles about why people always think it’s a telephone booth. You can’t help but smile at how cute he is when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. You don’t realize he asked you a question until he clears his throat with a confused expression.

“Sorry, I was rambling again.” He looks dejected, and you would do anything in the world to make him smile again.

“No, I’m sorry!” You scoot closer to him to convey your point. “I was listening at first I promise. It’s just, you looked so happy I got distracted. Let’s watch Doctor Who.” You turn to face the TV before you say anything else that makes you feel like a complete moron. He sorts through the food as you find the show online, setting it up to play on the TV. There’s random free episodes on demand, so you end up staring with the 11th doctor.

You are completely captivated by the show. Every so often, Spencer would comment on a theory about what one specific prop could mean only to have you cover your ears and warn him about spoilers. During an episode about creepy angel statues, he goes on a tangent about how Amy could have avoided the whole situation. Once he starts mentioning characters you haven’t met, you actually have to reach your hand up to cover his mouth to get him to stop talking. His words putter to a stop, eyes widening in shock as he stares at you.

“Spence, I absolutely love how passionate you are about Doctor Who. But it doesn’t matter how adorable it is when you ramble on about something. If you spoil one more thing before I can actually watch the whole show through, I will not hesitate to smack you.” You stare right in his eyes the entire time, watching as they widen with each word. You had to get a lot closer to him to actually reach his mouth. He had moved forward, animatedly waving his arms around as he talked about various plot points, so you were basically sitting on his lap to avoid being smacked in the face.

You drop your arm from his face slowly, as if any sudden movement would break the spell you were under. You lean forward, connecting your forehead to his. You take a steadying breath as you close your eyes. Your about to close the gap when his phone rings. Again, the moment is lost. You only move enough so that he can reach into his pocket for his phone. As he answers the call, you shift in his lap to cuddle into his chest.

“Morgan, what do you need?” Maybe you’re imaging it, but he almost sounds the slightest bit annoyed. You can just make out what Morgan is saying on the other end of the phone.

“Calm down, Pretty Boy. We might have a lead, Hotch and Emily are tracking it down now. I’ll meet you at the hotel in the morning to go over it all with you and Y/N.”

“Okay, thanks for the update.” He sounds so normal now, you think you must have imagined the annoyance earlier. He hangs up the phone, tossing it next to him on the couch. He wraps his arms around you before shifting so you’re both laying down.

“Let’s just relax and watch more Doctor Who. Morgan is stopping by in the morning to talk about the case.” You nod in agreement, turning to face the TV. A few episodes later, you and Spencer are drifting in and out of sleep. Neither one of you really wants to interrupt what you’ve got going, instead opting to just fall asleep on the couch.

You hear the faintest knocking noise that pulls you out of your slumber. It takes a few minutes for you to recognize you are on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. He must have pulled a blanket over the two of you last night after you fell asleep. Before you can get up to evaluate the knocking, the door opens and Morgan comes rushing in. The concern on his face is quickly replaced with a knowing smirk. You blush, jealous that Spencer is somehow still asleep.

“Hi Morgan. Sorry to alarm you. We must have fallen asleep watching TV last night.” At the sound of your voice, Spencer slowly begins to wake up. He smiles sleepily at you before realizing your attention is elsewhere. He practically throws you off the couch in his effort to sit up when he realizes Morgan is in the room.

“Sorry!” Spencer looks at Morgan, then back to you. “I’m so sorry!” You laugh as you stand up.

“Don’t worry about it.” You settle yourself in the chair, gesturing for Morgan to sit next to Spencer now that he isn’t sprawled across the entire sofa anymore. Turning to Morgan, you ask about the case “What did you want to talk about?”

“We have been focused on going through the people who work for the tour. It makes the most sense for them to travel with you, otherwise it would require a lot more planning.” You can feel the nerves growing in your stomach. “Garcia found a name we wanted to run by you.” He hands you a picture before saying the name. “Ryan Moore. He works-“

“On the instrumentals. I know. He usually runs the sound booth during the shows. I don’t know him that well, but we’ve talked a few times.” You think back over your past conversations. “It couldn’t be him.” You are 100% sure he is not the unsub, and the agents don’t fail to notice the conviction in your voice.

“What makes you so sure?” Spencer is flipping through the case file Morgan brought with him. He doesn’t even look up when he asks the question, too focused on memorizing every detail about this man’s life.

“Well, Hotch told me the unsub wouldn’t be able to talk to me right?” You look to Morgan for confirmation.

“Yes. He wouldn’t approach you or seem confident when talking with you if you approached him.” Morgan confirms what you’re thinking.

“Great. So it can’t be him.” You smile to yourself for actually contributing to the case. “Last week, right after the Columbus show, he asked me out. The unsub wouldn’t be brave enough, right?” The utter joy in your voice startles Spencer enough that he finally looks up from the file.

“Alright then. He’s likely not the unsub, but we’ll finish the investigation into him just in case.” Morgan settles back into the chair he’s sitting in, making no move to leave even though the conversation is clearly over. There is an obvious smirk on his face as he looks at Spencer.

“Well, I’m going to make some breakfast, feel free to watch TV or something.” You smile awkwardly at the two men, unsure of why there is suddenly a strange tension in the air. As you move into the kitchen, you connect your phone to your Bluetooth speaker. Listening to music while you cook has always been calming for you. You honestly prefer baking, but eggs and sausage with toast sounds perfect right now. You pull out the ingredients, humming softly as you dance around the kitchen. You can just barely hear that Morgan and Spencer are talking in the other room, but not enough to make out what they are saying. It just sounds a bit more intense the conversation you just had.

You choose to ignore it and give them their privacy instead focusing on cooking. You end up making scrambled eggs the way your mom taught you, by mixing in some chive and onion cream cheese. You pop some English muffins in the oven under the broiler while you place the eggs and sausages in dishes. After turning the music down, you move all the food to the table. You’re about to invite Spencer and Morgan to have some food when you hear their conversation.

“I’m telling you man. She likes you. You should go for it.” Morgan is clearly trying to encourage Spencer, but he won’t hear it.

“Morgan, it’s not like that. It’s probably just transference because I’m here to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Plus, you saw the smile on her face when she talked about Ryan asking her out. She was beaming.” He sighs, almost wistfully as you consider what he’s saying. Surely you are capable of separating your feelings for him from the situation. Would you like him if you had just run into him on the street? Plus, what does Ryan have to do with this?

You move back to the stove to remove the English muffins before they burn, putting them on a plate as well. Ultimately, you decide to try to straighten out your feelings for Spencer before making a move. You want to be sure. If there is even a shred of doubt in your mind, Spencer will surely be able to see it on your face. Stupid profilers.

Their conversation died down while you were dealing with the muffins, so you walk back to the other side of the room. You mumble out “I made food, you’re both welcome to have some” before returning to the table. You have a lot to think about and the last thing you want to do is lead Spencer on if you aren’t sure. He deserves better than that.

The conversation over breakfast is nice. Nothing too heavy or serious. The three of you are just talking about your lives. Morgan asks you what it’s like to be famous. You ask him and Spencer what it’s like to be in the FBI. You realize just how different your career paths are. The only thing you can relate to is travelling. Neither Spencer nor Morgan have family in the area, but they mention how hard it is for Hotch and JJ.

“That I can understand. The travelling, I mean. Of course, I travel to perform, not to track down killers.” The room is quiet for a few minutes as you think about what to say. Morgan and Reid being profilers know you haven’t finished your thought, so they give you the time to think it over.

“Thank you.” You say it softly, but firmly at the same time. This is the first time you’ve seen either of them look surprised.

“Wh- for what?” It’s Morgan who speaks up. Spencer has a familiar expression on his face. It’s the same look he got when you asked his opinion for coffee shops and movies.

“For everything. For protecting me. For catching bad guys. For giving up so much to do this job. You two, and the rest of your team, you all sacrifice so much to keep people safe. I mean, I’m sure the people you save and the families you give closure to are grateful, and you deserve that. But, you also deserve to have everyone be thankful for what you do. You get into the minds of these people. It must be exhausting to have to think like that all the time. I’m barely dealing with it now and it’s only be on my mind for 2 days! I just can’t even fathom the number of people you have saved, people that you’ve never even met, by doing this. So, thank you. For being strong enough to do it. For being you.”

You spoke every word with every ounce of sincerity you could muster up. You were looking between them as you said it. The shock on Morgan’s face slowly morphed into a small smile. Spencer’s expression didn’t change, but somehow looked more sincere when you were done.

Neither one of them knew what to say. Morgan rose from his chair to pull you into a hug. Patting you on the back, he uttered a soft thank you before saying he should get back to the office to help the rest of the team. You locked the door behind him, turning to see Spencer staring at you from the table.

“Spence? Are you okay?” You were nervous that your impromptu speech made him uncomfortable. He rose from the table, slowly making his way across the room to you.

“I’m, I, I just… that was… thank you. You amaze me.” He barely says the words, practically breathing them into existence. You reach for his hand, squeezing it.

“I meant every single word. Promise.” There is nothing more you want to do than kiss him right now, but all you can hear in your head is Spencer talking about transference. You hug him quickly before pulling back again. Without some distance between the two of you, you won’t be able to control yourself. “Do you want to go to another café today? Or somewhere with a piano so I can finally see you play?”

“We can do what you want today. You let me pick the café and the show yesterday, so it’s only fair.” You grin, knowing exactly where you want to take him.

The two of you get ready in near silence after that. Both of you want to calm down a bit before spending another day together. After you’ve both showered and changed, you drag Spencer down to the SUV. The weather outside is perfect for where you want to go, but the park is just far enough away that you want to drive. You pull up directions on your phone, hiding the address from him. Spencer protests the entire time. He keeps mumbling about how he would know how to get there if you just told him where you were going. Then something about how mobile phones are a distraction, so it would be safer for him to drive anyway.

You just let him ramble on about the many DC streets. Your grip on the wheel tightens when he starts listing off statistics about car accidents.

“More than 38,000 people die every year in crashes on U.S. roadways. The U.S. traffic fatality rate is actually 12.4 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants. An additional 4.4 million are injured seriously enough to require medical attention. Road crashes are the leading cause of death in the U.S. for people aged 1-54.” With every passing word, your knuckles get whiter, your heartbeat gets faster, and your breaths get shorter. Spencer is too caught up in reciting the statistics to realize anything is wrong until he turns to look at you, his next sentence dying on his tongue. “Seatbelts reduce the risk of dying by…” His brow furrows as he takes in your appearance.

“By what Spence? Don’t leave me hanging?” You try to joke with him to calm yourself down, but he obviously sees right through it.

“45%.” He continues before you can even comprehend the number. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m totally fine. 100% A-Okay.” You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Having arrived at your destination, you pull into a parking spot.

“Y/N, talk to me. What is it?” You take a steadying breath as you turn to face him. Honestly, you are embarrassed more than anything else. You were the one who decided you had to drive.

“Spence, really it’s not a big deal. I just get nervous driving sometimes. I don’t have to do it a lot, and I’ve never felt like I was particularly good at it. It doesn’t matter though, we’re here.” You move to get out of the car, but Spencer reaches across the car to stop you. His face is only inches from yours as the realization dawns on him.

“And I was rambling on about how dangerous driving is.” He says it more to himself than to you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you stop me? I really need to learn how to shut up. I just get so caught up in the statistics-“ “Spencer. I love when you ramble. I’ve already told you how calming it is… normally. I’m fine, I promise. You just have to drive us back to the hotel later. Deal?”

“Deal.” You’re both smiling as you get out of the car to walk around the park you brought him to. He doesn’t ask why you picked this place and you don’t offer up a reason. He’ll figure it out soon enough. You talk about random things from childhood as you lazily stroll through the trees. There’s something so calming about wandering through so many trees when you know you’re in the middle of a bustling city.

Before long, the two of you have crossed the park. A few feet away stands an upright piano in front of a park bench. You glance at Spencer as he looks at the piano, realization gracing his features as he discovers why you chose this particular park. You beckon for him to sit down next to you, asking him to play you a song.

He blushes as you whisper pretty please in his ear. The cherry on top does him in. Soon enough, you are hearing the beginning notes of Bach’s Prelude in C. You just sit and listen, watching his fingers gracefully move above the keys. He’s not the most passionate of piano players. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he moves his hands efficiently across the instrument, as if he really is thinking about the math behind it all. Still, you lose yourself in the music, swaying lightly. You find yourself leaning on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you think about everything you’ve been feeling.

You studied music for a few years when you were young. That’s how you started writing, with lessons to learn to play both the guitar and the piano. You took to the guitar more than the piano, but you remember learning about the emotion behind every classical piece you were taught to play. You can’t help but think back to those lessons as you listen to Spencer. This song is always reaching forward, yearning for the next note. It plays into the idea that life is simple and pure. Even good at times. But there is something lurking just below the surface. It’s weirdly fitting of your current situation, but you choose to just be glad he chose the major over the minor.

You feel the breeze in your hair as Spencer finishes the song. For a few moments, the two of you sit listening to the leaves rustling in the wind. Eventually, you look around the park once it is quiet again. It’s mostly empty given that it’s 2 pm on a Tuesday, so there aren’t many people around to witness this moment. You slip your phone on the piano to record before you take over, playing that all too familiar melody that reminds you of Spencer. Neither of you say anything as you let the music and your emotions guide you through the song. You can tell it’s not perfect, but it just feels right.

After that, you and Spencer brainstorm lyrics for Rossi’s song for another few hours. The park begins to fill up as school lets out and the workday ends. A few fans recognize you, asking for pictures. After a particularly strong gust of wind, Spencer drapes his cardigan over you as you walk back toward the car, both of you blissfully unaware of the figure watching you from behind the trees.

The next few days pass in much the same fashion. Spencer takes calls about the case, trying to narrow down the massive list of crew members on your tour. You and he work on lyrics for Rossi’s song, as well as JJ’s. She’s just so pretty, the words flow right out of you. You can tell Spencer agrees. You believe him as he swears up and down that the two of them are just friends, but you can’t help teasing him just a bit.

“Honestly, it would be weirder if you didn’t think she was pretty. The woman looks as if she were sculpted by Michelangelo himself. A living embodiment of Aphrodite.” He nods in agreement, a faint blush on his cheeks.

No matter how much you try, you just cannot come up with anymore good lyrics for Spencer’s song. It could be that he is sitting right next to you all the time and knows the song is for him that’s causing the writer’s block, but it’s still frustrating.

One night, he’s working through the case file for the third time in a row when you interrupt his thoughts with a seemingly random question.

“Spence, can you tell me a story?” He looks up at you, brow furrowed and eyes confused. “I just need inspiration for the lyrics. Everything I come up with sucks.” You pout until he finally gives in. “Yay! It can be anything, even a memory. Just make it overwhelmingly happy.”

Spencer stops looking through the file as he thinks back on his life experiences for an overwhelmingly happy memory. The faces of his team members instantly flood his mind as he sorts through the many good times they’ve had. He keeps circling back to one event, ultimately deciding it is happy enough to fit your standards.

“This is actually the story of JJ’s wedding.” You lean forward, a wedding story could be just what the doctor ordered. “Will wanted to marry her for a while, but she was hesitant. She said everything was perfect as it was, she didn’t feel the need to change anything.” You were honestly a little confused as to where the happiness was at this point, but you let him continue anyway. You could listen to this man talk for days on end without complaint.

“We ended up working a case with Will. It was a bank robbery turned hostage situation. It was a rough case for all of us; bombs, secret partners, kids at risk. I won’t bore you with the details,” he chuckles at your thankful expression, “but it all worked out in the end. Will, he could’ve died. When JJ went to see him in the hospital, she told him to ask her again. She wanted to get married then and there in the hospital chapel. Will wanted to wait until he was actually out of the hospital though, and not wearing a hospital gown.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of loving someone so much, you were instantly ready to marry them.

“Rossi, he overheard everything. So, he started planning. He called JJ’s mom, told her to fly in and to bring her wedding dress. We threw her a surprise wedding the next day. It was such a beautiful moment, to have such a joyous event after everything that we had been through. JJ looked wonderstruck as her mom walked her down the aisle. The lights were sparkling. It was enchanting.” He spoke with such awe about the whole event. He told you stories about doing magic for Henry and Jack, who you came to know as Hotch’s son. It was so easy for you to picture the fairy lights and purple flowers. The team seemed like such a close-knit family, it only made sense that they would share this memory.

The chorus of the song hit you like a ton of bricks. You didn’t even warn Spencer as you jumped from the couch and ran to the piano. He followed behind you, curious to see what would happen. He watched with wonder as you placed your phone to record on top of the piano and started playing the family melody you first hummed while thinking about him.

“This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you.” The verses didn’t pour out of you in quite the same way, but the general storyline of the song came to you in the next few minutes. You rushed to get it all out, speaking directly into the phone.

“The first verse can be about feeling out of place in a room, faking laughter, forcing smiles. Then it all changes when she sees him. It’s as if they have a conversation with only their eyes as they float across the room to each other. Then the chorus. The second verse can be about her wondering if he felt it to. 2 am who do you love? Chorus again. Then the bridge can be about hoping that the one night wasn’t it for them. That she’ll see him again and hoping he isn’t already in love or with someone.” You’re so pleased with the song idea, you don’t notice the shifting expressions on Spencer’s face. After your explanation, you turn to him, the biggest smile he’s seen yet on your face.

“What do you think?” He’s so shocked he doesn’t know how to respond. After a moment of silence, your face begins to fall. You can’t stop your brain from thinking the worst.

He must hate it. Oh god, he’s just trying to find a way to let me down easy. Why do I have to be so stupid? Sure, go ahead. Write a love song about the man who’s sitting next to you. That won’t be weird at all. Oh god, oh god…

Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s beautiful. It will make a wonderful song.” He’s whispering in your ear. The feeling of his lips brushing against you is too much. Everything you’ve been pushing back for the past few days comes roaring to the surface. You can’t stop yourself.

You pull back slowly, only to pull his face to yours so rapidly you’re surprised you didn’t get whiplash. In less than an instant, his lips are moving gracefully against yours. His hands slide down your body to your waist as he pulls you even closer to him. Your arms move up around his neck, your fingers running through his hair. The hunger and passion is slowly taken over by the need for oxygen, the two of you separating just enough to pull air into your lungs.

He kisses your forehead, and you kiss his nose. A few minutes later, and you’re still standing there with your heads pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. Every so often, one of you places a light kiss on the others mouth, just to make sure this is real.

“I know what you’re thinking.” You are still out of breath from kissing him, but you can just tell his mind is moving a mile a minute.

“I’m not sure you do.” He sounds nervous.

“I think I might surprise you.” You can’t help but tease him a little before continuing. “You think its all transference. That I only think I like you because you’re here to protect me. Some sort of white knight bullshit.” You can’t stop yourself from sounding mildly annoyed about it. Although, the look of shock on his face helps. “I heard what you said to Morgan.” He sighs before moving to pull back.

“No, Spence. Listen to me. I heard what you said to Morgan.” You wait for him to follow your train of thought back a few days.

“But that was four days ago?” He looks more confused than ever.

“I know. I wanted to make sure that what I feel is real. I didn’t want to lead you on if I might not actually want this. But I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before. Spencer, you are a light in my life and not just because you’re here to make sure I don’t get murdered. Although that certainly doesn’t hurt. I feel like I can tell you anything and you won’t judge me for it. That I can truly be myself without worry of letting you down.”

“Y/N you could never let me down. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything. I don’t want you to regret me.” He looks crestfallen.

“Spencer Reid.” You move your hands to his cheeks to gently push his head up to make eye contact. “I could never regret a single moment spent with you. I have loved every single one. I loved watching you listen to the songs about your friends. I loved listening to you talk about things you love, like Doctor Who and statistics. I loved sitting next to while you played piano. I loved talking to you about anything and everything. Spencer, I love how I feel when I’m with you and I know for a fact I would feel the same way if I met you walking down the street.”

“Y/N” the way he says your name is music to your ears. “I love how I feel when I’m with you too. I loved listening to you sing about my friends, capturing the essence of who they are. I loved watching you experience the things I have grown so accustomed to doing. I loved the feeling of you leaning on my shoulder while I played Bach. I loved hearing you come up with an entire storyline for one song in a matter of minutes just based on one story. I have loved every single second I have been with you since I first saw you 7 days, 2 hours, and 32 minutes ago. Even if I didn’t say a word to you until after you woke up in the hospital.”

The two of you laugh as you pull him to the couch to cuddle. You put on more Doctor Who, sitting with your legs across his lap and playing with his hands. It’s nice to just be close to him without having to worry. You find yourself getting wrapped up in the show. Spencer is quieter this time. You think he might have something on his mind, but you decide to wait for him to share. Between the third and fourth episode, he speaks up.

“Y/N, are you and Ryan… are you together?” You look up to see a nervous expression once again on his face.

“Ryan who?” You are genuinely confused as to who he could even be talking about.

“Ryan Moore, the sound booth guy.” You look even more confused than before.

“Not even a little bit. I politely declined his offer to take me out. Is that what’s been bugging you for the last three episodes?” You smile at his pout.

“Maybe. You just seemed so happy when you mentioned that he asked you out. You were practically glowing with how big your smile was.”

“Spence, I was happy because I could actually help you with the case. I only have eyes for one guy.” You shift to straddle his lap.

“Yeah, who’s that?” He pulls you even closer.

“Matt Smith” You say it with the best deadpan expression you can manage in the circumstances.

“Wow, your standards must be pretty low to settle for the 11th doctor. He’s not even in the top three best doctors!” He plays along with your joke, although he doesn’t have to act incredulous sat you preference for the 11th doctor.

“Well, my number one doctor isn’t really on TV.” You bite your lip, leaning in until you connect your mouth to his.

Right as you’re both about to take it one step further, your phone rings. “Fuck.” The word is barely a whisper leaving your mouth as you pull back from Spencer trying to catch your breath.

“Hello?” you don’t hear anything on the other end of the phone. “Hello? Anyone there? Hello?” Suddenly the line goes dead. You turn to Spencer. “Well, that was weird.” Spencer frantically moves you off his lap as he stands up, taking out his phone. Without telling you anything, he is frantically dialing a number, mumbling under his breath.

“Garcia! I need to you to figure out who just called Y/N’s phone.” He waits a minute, presumably listening to her reply. “Yes, it just rang and when she answered nobody said anything. Thank you.” He hangs up, swiftly moving back to the couch to pull you into a hug.

“What just happened?” You can feel your heartrate speeding up.

“It might be nothing, but that might have been the unsub. Garcia is tracking down the number that made the call right now. If it’s possible to figure out, she’ll have it done by morning.” He rubs calming circles on your hip with his thumb. “Why don’t you go to sleep? Try to get some rest?” You nod, rising from the couch.

“Spence, will you lay with me?” Your voice is small and scared as you ask the question. He simply nods, both of you changing into pajamas before meeting in the bedroom to lay down. You snuggle up close to him, trying to breathe in the same pattern as him until you fall asleep.

When you wake up, you can hear Spencer in the living room, talking on his phone. You want nothing more than to go back to sleep, but not if you can’t cuddle with Spencer while you do it. Throwing the covers off of you, you get up so you can actually see Spencer. He’s got his back to you when you open the door, so you sneak up behind him. He jumps a little with a surprised gasp when you wrap your arms around his middle.

“What? Oh, uh… I’m fi-fine. Everything’s fine. I was just surprised.” He spins around to hug you, giving you a slight glare. “By, um, a beetle. Yeah, there was a beetle.” The lie is so obvious you can’t help but laugh as you bury your head into his chest.

A few minutes later, he finally hangs up. “What did they find out about the phone call?” You mumble the question into the fabric of his cardigan.

“Less than we were hoping for. It was a prepaid cell, so Garcia can’t trace it back to the owner.” You squeeze him tighter, glad to have him with you through all of this. After a few minutes of standing with him, you reluctantly pull back.

“Well, we should get to work. These songs are not going to write themselves!”

You and Spencer retreat to different parts of the suite to get ready for the day. As much as you would love to jump his bones, it doesn’t feel right to take up his time with that when he could be working. At least if you were working on songs together it was part of the cover.

You ultimately decide to just sit in the park across from the hotel today. Normally, you wouldn’t even leave your room at this point in the writing process. You just don’t completely trust yourself to be alone with him at the moment. At least in public you can control yourself a little bit. Yet, the many people walking around the park do nothing to stop you from grabbing Spencer’s hand and playing with his fingers while thinking particularly hard about a certain lyric.

A bright flash of light draws you out of your reverie. You already know how the picture is going to look. You are laying across a blanket, knees in the air. Spencer is sitting beside you, reading messages from the team on his phone. His other hand is still between yours as you run your fingers over his knuckles. You are absolutely sure there is look of complete adoration on your face. You can’t bring yourself to care that the paparazzi took the picture. You have nothing to hide.

After the shock of the bright light fades, you notice a familiar face behind the few photographers in front of you. The shock of seeing someone for a second time floods your brain while you try to remember the profile Hotch told you that very first night. Without thinking too hard, you fling yourself into a sitting position. You gather everything you brought with you to the park, dragging Spencer along with you. He clearly doesn’t understand the shift in your behavior, but he’d gladly follow you anywhere.

It’s not until you reach your room that you look at him. He can see the fear in your eyes before you even open your mouth. “Baby, what is it? What happened?” He begins recalling everything from the moment the first flash went off, trying to figure out what made you so scared.

“I saw him.” You can barely hear yourself over the sound of your heart beating in your chest. “I saw the unsub. I mean, I think I did. He held the door open for us this morning when we left the hotel, and then he was in the park when the paparazzi were taking pictures. Hotch… he said to tell you if I saw anyone more than once in a day.” The words escape your lips in a hurry, trying to keep up with your flying thoughts.

“Okay, breathe. I’m right here. I’m going to call the team. Did you recognize him from anywhere else?” You try to picture the face in your mind, and suddenly you are seeing him everywhere. In the coffee shop that very first day. Behind the trees in the park with the piano. If you and Spencer were there, so was he. Just, normally you only caught a glimpse of him for a second. Definitely not twice in one day.

You rush to tell Spencer what you’re remembering. At this point, you don’t even know if it’s true. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. Just filling in this man’s face on other people’s bodies to fit the story that he is the one behind it all. Nonetheless, you give him the description of who you saw. White, probably 35ish, brown hair. You didn’t see his eyes, but they looked evil. The expression on his face just screamed serial killer. Maybe that’s in your head too. Who knows?

“I know I’ve seen that face before, I just can’t remember where. God, I’m useless. This man is hurting people and I can’t even remember where I’ve seen him before. Think. Think. THINK.” You’ve started pacing the room, trying to figure out who it could be. Spencer doesn’t say anything else to you until he’s finished the phone call. Even then, he’s more so humming and shushing you than really talking. He pulls you into a hug, trying to calm you down yet again.

“Y/N. You are anything but useless. You noticed he was there. That’s a step in the right direction. We are going to find him, and he is going to go to jail for a very long time.” Somewhere, deep inside, you knew Spencer couldn’t guarantee that, but you also knew it was better for you to listen to him than to force yourself down a rabbit hole you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

A few calming breaths later, and your asleep on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms.

It’s still dark when you open your eyes. You can hear someone moving around, but it’s too dark to see. Spencer isn’t with you on the couch, so it could be him, but something feels wrong. Why would Spencer be up in the middle of the night wandering around in the dark?

“Spencer?” Everything goes still at the sound of your voice. Yeah, that was not the best move you could’ve made… Before you can say anything else, you are knocked out cold. The sound of a lamp smashing over your head is that last thing you hear.

tag list:

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid one shot #Criminal Minds #spencer reid x you

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shotofire · 3 years

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Dream Catcher

•LEVI ACKERMAN x READER

•Overview: In which you own a stand to sell dream catchers, and Levi takes an interest in the concept

•Warning: Cursing, angst, mentions of sex, descriptive gore

•Season: Not specified

It had been going on for weeks now. Levi Ackerman would wake up pretty much every night covered in sweat and breathing so fast as if the air might run out. Nightmares were nothing new to him at this point. They came and went, but it had been a few years since they’d been this bad.

He wasn’t sure what had triggered the dreams. A mission hadn’t occurred in almost two months believe it or not. The reoccurring nightmares were always the same, down to the details. It started with him in a beautiful field filled with flowers, and the sun was warming his skin.

The peace in the beginning was always short lived, and soon he’d hear a terrified scream erupt behind him. The mood of the fresh air would change immediately, and everything around him had changed in the blink of an eye. Instead of a field filled with flowers it was a field scattered with dead bodies. It seemed to go on for miles, bodies covered in their own blood.

Scream after scream filled the air leaving no room for silence. He would watch as titans snatched up his friends and chewed their body parts like candy. He wanted to help them and he was skilled enough to do so, but his feet couldn’t move.

Everyone would be screaming his name and begging him for help. But the ground acted as if it were glue, keeping him in place as he watched everyone die. Every last person in the field would be ripped apart at ease, leaving him the last one alive. Tears would be streaming down his face as he saw the faces of everyone he cared about with fear struck expressions that would stare back at him.

The titans wouldn’t pay any mind to him. He’d be left alone with no one to care about, no one to love. Even though Levi would die before he admitted it, his greatest fear is to be alone. It’s not the fear of dying that leaves him paralyzed, why would he be scared of the inevitable? Being alone is avoidable and a more logical fear in his opinion.

Once a titan looked at him with a gut wrenching smile he’d sit up in his bed at full speed. His shirtless chest would be hot to the touch and sticky with sweat. There had been a few times he’d woken up with dried tears on his cheeks, or still in the middle of crying.

He pushed it aside at first thinking they’d just go away on their own and he’d be fine. None of his nightmares lasted more than a solid week because he’d find someway to get over them. But once it hit almost a month he was beginning to worry. His lack of sleep was catching up to him, and the bags under his eyes were prominent.

Hanji had bugged him about it for about a week now. She constantly pointed out his dark circles and how slow he was starting to move. The women went as far as to call him ‘an old man’ just so he may tell her what’s going on.

“You look older today,” she whispered in his ear, as he drank some coffee, causing him to jump in surprise.

Levi rolled his eyes once he knew who it was. She just never seemed to go a minute without saying something. He’s been in the dining hall for maybe an hour and she’d already insulted him five times.

“Maybe it’s because i’m getting older,” he grumbles in annoyance.

She sits across from him with a loud thud. Her hands immediately reach across the table to grab his wrists which nearly causes him to drop his coffee. The man didn’t even have the energy to ask what the hell she was doing. Her eyes began scanning his face swiftly, taking in every detail.

“When was the last time you had a good nights sleep?” She asks before letting her tight grip on his wrists go.

He scoffs as if what she was talking about was way off. She basically jumps across the table to smack her palms on either side of his face, squishing it a bit. He grabs her wrists to move her grip but it’s no use, he was too tired and she was far too determined.

“I heard you gasp in your room last night when I was going to get a drink,” she says with narrowed eyes, “and I know you aren’t getting laid so it had to have been a nightmare.”

His mouth hands open at the somewhat insulting words that came out of Hanji’s mouth. How would she know he wasn’t getting anything? He pushed his eyebrows together in a knot and wanted to tell her to fuck off, but he kept himself together.

“So what if I did, it’s not a big deal,” he mumbles and she finally lets go of his face.

“It kinda is a big deal if it’s been going on for weeks,” she says while waving her hands in the air, “eye bags like those don’t form over night.”

He looks down at the wooden table so she’ll stop pointing out and looking at his sleepy features. He’s fully aware of how bad he looks but he’s too stubborn to get help. Hanji knows of Levi’s ways and that’s why she’s trying to annoy the hell out of him. She thinks if she bothers him enough he’ll seek help just for her to leave him alone.

“I know a way your nightmares can go away,” she says with her tone laced in excitement, “get a dream catcher!”

The man had never heard of a dream catcher. For a second he thought it was a drug, he wouldn’t put it past Hanji to try something ‘in the name of science.’ His confused features become prominent and she realizes she should probably explain what this dream catcher is.

“About a month ago I was having this awful dream and it kept going on and on. So I went into town to see a doctor for some strong sleeping medicine and then I saw this colorful sign that said,” she stood up to show how big the sign was, “dream catchers for sale!”

Levi was still beyond confused at this point. And his annoyance with how much energy she had this early in the morning was growing. He just wanted to walk away and get some paperwork done, and then hopefully be able to fall asleep without disruptions. Deep down he knew the dream was just going to happen again.

“The girl there will explain it to you, she will do a lot better job than me, but basically they get rid of your bad dreams,” the smile on her face was huge.

That’s when Levi became interested. So all he didn’t to do was get a dream catcher and this would all go away? It seemed easy enough. Hanji noticed the way his shoulder perked up and her smile only grew.

“It’s right next to that little tavern I forced you to go to with me that one morning, and it’s impossible to miss the sign,” she beams, “also the girl is cute, so you may leave with another prize.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and Levi can’t help but roll his eyes at the crazy women. She stands up quickly before strutting out of the room feeling victorious.

“Thank you Hanji,” Levi whispers just enough for her to hear.

“You’re welcome,” she sings back.

He’s left alone with his thoughts. Was he really going to go see whatever the hell Hanji was talking about? When it comes down to it she didn’t explain what it looked like or if it was a damn drug. He really was going into this blind, but his need for sleep was far too high to not atleast check it out.

Going into town wasn’t his favorite thing to do whatsoever. Most of the time he wouldn’t be seen walking around. Hanji would have to beg for hours, sometimes days, for him to leave base with her. In all the years of knowing him she’d only succeeded a handful of times.

Yet here he was walking through town with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was rather noisy and crowded, which is what he hated the most. The sun was shining and children were out playing, running in the streets like no one else was around. He had nearly ate shit when a little girl ran infront of him as if he wasn’t there.

“I’m gonna go crazy,” he mumbled to himself.

Right as he turned the corner he saw that sign Hanji had described to him. Swirls of pink, purple, and blue were painted onto it and white block letters spelled out ‘Dream Catchers For Sale!’ His eyes observed the little stand and watches as a women handed the young girl money with a big smile on her face.

Once the women walked away and no one was occupying it he began making his way in that direction. The girl had turned her back before he’d gotten there, he could only guess she was putting away the money. When she turned back around her eyes widened and she jumped at his presence. The girls cheeks heated up as soon as she realized what she did.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t hear you come up and got a bit startled,” she says nervously.

Levi half smiles at the girl, and he kinda surprised himself with his own actions. He finds her awfully cute which he didn’t see coming. It had been a few years since he admitted to finding someone attractive. He looks behind her to see some sort of art, maybe, hanging on nails imbedded in wood. The girl had gotten a big slab of wood and painted it with the same colors as her sign.

“How can I help you?” She asks with a warm smile that makes his heart skip a beat. What the hell is going on with him right now?

“My uh,” he thought for a second, “my friend told me about this thing called a dream catcher. I wanted to get one possibly.”

She smiles and nods, happy to help someone.

“Well i’m (y/n) and i’d be glad to help you,” she beams.

Levi can’t help but abserve her beauty, and her name had a nice ring to it. She turned around to grab one of the objects hanging on the wall before bringing it back to him. She sets it down on the small table infront of her so he can get a better look.

He observes the object and found it rather interesting. There was a large circle at the top, appearing to be made out of wood, that had red string wrapped around and across it to create abstract patterns. More red string hung off the bottom of it, and at the end of those strings were white and grey feathers.

(y/n) watches as his eyes scan over it in curiosity. She loves the looks on people’s faces when they take in every detail of her hard work. He then looks up at her to see she’s looking at him, and his heart beat increases a bit.

“I’m Levi by the way,” he says, “And i’m guessing this is the so called dream catcher?”

She didn’t expect the stranger to tell her his name but she was glad he did.

“Nice to meet you Levi, and yes it is! Would you like me to explain the dream catcher a bit?” She says excitedly with her same smile that got prettier by the minute.

His answer comes in a nod.

“So, a dream catcher is supposed to prevent you from having nightmares, and it’s the healthy option too. Getting medicine you know little about can be dangerous and have negative effects,” she explains.

Levi can’t help but watch the way her lips move and eyes light up. She was rather endearing and knew how to keep your attention with her sweetness. He could tell she found joy in helping people, and he found that admirable.

“It’s not proven to work so don’t come yelling at me tomorrow if you still struggle to sleep,” she giggles, “it’s more of a positive energy object. If you put faith into it and wish it to work it most likely will, that’s what my grandmother always told me. Plus i’ll be handing it off to you with my positive energy!”

He couldn’t help but smile at how excited her tone was. She was happy to help him, a stranger, with her little creation.

“Basically just keep an open mind and gather up all of your positivity,” she says, “Oh and also you hang it on your wall, preferably near your bed. Even better if it’s above your head.”

She was sorta rambling due to the fact she found Levi extremely attractive. It’d been awhile since a man had found his way to her stand, let alone one who had such perfect features. Sure she’d noticed the bags under his eyes but she knew that was the reason he was here.

“Well uh, i’ll take it. Thank you for explaining to me (y/n),” he smiles softly.

The way her name rolled off his tongue sent a chill up her spine. His voice was so deep and smooth, she wanted to hear it in other ways. She pinched her wrist at the dirty thought that was beginning to creep into her head. This man could be crazy for all she knows.

Before she can tell him the price he’s already digging in his pocket and setting the money on the table. She could quickly tell it was more than what she charged.

“Let me get you your change-“ “No, keep it.”

Her cheeks heat up at his kindness. She was struggling financially right now, not many people found her business appealing.

“Actually,” he grabs more money and puts it with the stack on the table, “I’ll take two more.”

(y/n) can’t help but smile brightly at his actions. She grabs two more for him and puts all the dream catchers in a small basket then sets a note on top that Levi didn’t seem to notice. She hands it off to him and he smiles back at her.

“Thank you so much,” she says with her sweet voice that Levi found comforting.

“Of course,” he says, “I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you if it worked for me, but it’s more of an excuse to see you again.”

Her eyes widen at his words and she’s sure her face reached a shade of red that it never had before. He watches as her features get all flustered at his words and he smirks. This girl truly was adorable and he had to come see her again.

“Have a nice rest of your day (y/n),” he says before turning his back and walking off.

“Y-You too,” she stutters. In that moment she wanted to face palm herself for being such a flustered mess. She’s just met him maybe fifteen minutes ago and he already had an effect of her.

That night Levi hung all three dream catchers on the wall above his headboard. When he went to put the basket on his desk he noticed the small yellow tinted piece of paper laying on the bottom, face down. He picks it up and sees the neat handwriting spread across it.

Thank you for supporting my business!

My positive energy is rooting for you to have a good nights sleep!

Levi smiles at the words, she were awfully kind. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from going to see you tomorrow, even if he had things to do. Her sweat voice range through his head as his eye lids became heavy. He laid down and it only took him a few seconds to fall into a deep sleep.

Tonight was the first night in weeks that Levi slept peacefully. There were no bad dreams, and no seeing his friends die. He’d slept so soundly then when he woke up he was kind of confused. That’s when it hit him, he’d just gotten a full night of sleep with no interruptions.

He stretched his body and it felt amazing. His eyes didn’t feel like bricks in his face, his head wasn’t pounding, and his body felt loose instead of stiff. He looked up at the dream catchers with a small smile on his face. The girls little creation had actually worked, but he thought it was her kindness that contributed to the good nights sleep.

Later that day he walked back to (y/n)’s stand and praised her for his good nights sleep. The blush on her face never seemed to leave the whole time they talked. And Levi couldn’t remember that last time he’d laughed this much during a conversation. If anyone who knew him saw him right now they’d think he was filled to the brim with alcohol. That’d be the only thing they could think of to make his personality do a three-sixty.

Levi ended up asking (y/n) to get coffee with him the next morning. It was the start to a beautiful relationship.

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missscarletta7 · 3 years

Text

The Broken Crown- Chapter 2

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

Hello! Enjoy chapter 2!

OoOoOo

"Keep spendin' most our lives, Livin' in the gangsta's paradise,

Tell me why are we so blind to see,

That the ones we hurt, are you and me"

~Gangsters Paradise~

1919

"Mags." Was the first thing the young girl heard as she was gently shaken awake, "Go lay in your bed, eh?"

Upon half-opening her eyes, she saw it was Tommy who had been talking to her. Maggie only then realized she had fallen asleep sitting upright. She responded by rubbing her neck and slowly nodding. Clumsily she got off the bed with her journal in hand.

It was early. The exact time she wasn't sure, but sunlight wasn't streaming through the window yet. She entered the quiet hallway, navigating herself to her bedroom in the darkness. When she opened her door, she discovered a figure standing in the middle of the half-lit room changing clothes.

"There you are," Ada whispered out, shimming out of her slip, "Was wondering what happened to you."

"Slept in Tommy's room," She explained, yawning lightly. "Just get in? What time is it?"

Her sister nodded as she continued to change into a nightdress, slipping the fabric over her head. "It's just past four." She informed as the younger girl motioned her way around her sister to flop onto the bed, making it creak from the force of body weight.

"How was your night?" asked Maggie, moving to make her head more comfortable on the old shapeless pillow.

"Romantic." The older girl hummed, sliding into bed next to her sister. "I've never felt this way about anyone."

Maggie turned her body on her side. "Wish I could put a name and face to this mystery man." She watched her sister's eyes flash with guilt. At the realization of her thoughts were now said aloud, regret formed in the pit of Maggie’s stomach.

"I promise I'll tell you sooner than you think, I just-" Ada didn't have to finish the sentence for Maggie to understand what she was going to say: 'I just can't deal with our brothers if they find out '.

"I know Ada," was the last thing the sleepy girl said before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.

Eventually, she woke up again around seven in the morning. Carefully, she got out of bed trying not to wake up her sleeping sister, and dressed accordingly in one of Ada's old dresses. She also made sure to pack her journal into her book bag before making her way downstairs. Once in the kitchen, she saw Tommy reading the paper and Finn eating his breakfast.

"Morning." She said, grabbing a bowl and spoon to scoop mushy porridge out of a metal pot, which was sitting on top of the only working stove burner. Polly had most likely prepared it for them. "How did you sleep?"

Tommy knew that question was directed to him, "Better than I have in weeks." This made his sister smile as she sat down in the chair next to him. "Your writing has improved. But then again, I haven't heard you share your work since you were twelve. Pol says you won't even share with her or Ada. Why's that?" He was genuinely curious.

"I don't think it's ready to be shared yet," Maggie shrugged.

He peered at her as he set the paper down onto the table, "You shared last night."

"Only to put you to sleep." She countered, bringing the spoon to her mouth to consume the beige-colored substance.

"Going to have to sometime," he spoke sincerely. "How else are you going to become a writer, eh?"

He was right, she knew that, but right now, her writing felt sacred. As if her words were only meant for her. She was still coming face to face with a paradoxical problem. Every time she would write something down, it would instantly not be good enough. The pages of her journal seemed to have more scribbled-out lines than actual words. She just couldn't explain this feeling properly, and if she couldn't express her feelings in words, how could she write? No, sharing her words would only lead to not being understood. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the opening and slamming of the front door.

"Tommy!" John angrily stormed into the kitchen, "It's Danny! Those fucking Wops got a hit on him."

Tommy answered back by pushing himself out of his chair and hurriedly following his brother out of the home. Finn quickly tried to follow, but Maggie grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, "Let go Mags!" he cried out.

Maggie sighed, "C'mon, let's get you ready for school." Finn could only respond with a groan, allowing his sister to lead him upstairs.

OoOoOo

The next day, a smiling Maggie was squished between John and Finn in the family car. She could barely move without hearing a complaint from John, but she didn't care, she was too excited. They were all on their way to the fair, which had been set up right outside of Birmingham. It had been so long since she had been to one. They were almost there, and she could see the big red and white striped tent peaking over the trees in the distance, so she was confused when Tommy parked the car in a clearing that was still a good distance away.

Arthur spoke up at once, "Thought you said we were going to the fair"

"Yeah, what are we doing?" She asked nervously, leaning her elbows against the front seat.

"We have business first. C'mon, bring your wits." Tommy said getting out of the car with John and Arthur following. He glanced over to his younger siblings noticing they were trying to do the same. " You and Finn stay by the car."

"Seriously?" She just wanted to have a normal day at the fair with her family. Was that too much to ask?

Tommy pointed at her to emphasize. "Stay by the car, Mags."

"What business?" Arthur questioned.

"That's the Lee family," She heard John say.

Great the Lees, thought Maggie sarcastically, as she sank into the seat. Though she did perk herself up when she saw a familiar face walking towards the car.

"Hi, Johnny!" She smiled and waved at the man.

"Well hello pretty lady," Johnny Dogs greeted as he approached the car. "Tell me, have you seen a lass named Maggie?" The teasing tone of his voice was prominent. He had not changed a bit in the four years his presence had been absent.

The girl giggled slightly at his antics, and with a playful air replied, "I'm Maggie."

"You canna be her." He overly acted out in disbelief, "Last time I saw her she was but a child!"

"Hang on a minute," They all heard Arthur say, "You're not swapping the family car for a bloody horse!"

Johnny turned around and quickly walked up to the oldest Shelby, "Of course we're not swapping it. Huh? That would be mad!"

"We're going to play two up," Tommy explained, handing a coin over to the family friend.

"Jesus." Arthur breathed out anxiously, as they all watched the pair toss their coins into the grass and lean forward to get a better view. Silently, Tommy handed over the keys to the car, much to the irritation of the eldest, "I knew it. Tommy, you bloody idiot!"

"Shut up Arthur. I won," Tommy told him, "I promised Johnny I'd let him have a spin in the car if he lost." He watched as the relief washed over his brother's face but was interrupted by collective snickering. He turned to the three men dangerously, "Are you Lee boys laughing at my brother? Are you? Eh? I asked you a question!"

"Tommy! Tommy, c'mon it's just a craic." Johnny reasoned, trying to keep everyone calm, "Get your family out of here and go enjoy yourselves at the fair before they start a war." Johnny then turned to the Lees, and Maggie was able to make out most of what he said. It had something to do about the grandfather she never met before one of the Lees replied, "Yeah, but his mother was a Diddicoy whore."

That had done it. Whipping his weaponized hat off of his head, Tommy slashed at the man's face. Arthur and John quickly joined in. Blood could be seen gushing from their faces as they all yelled obscenities at one another. Finn looked in awe at his brothers, his gaze never wavering from the fight, but Maggie felt sick.

OoOoOo

An hour later they had finally reached their original destination. Looking and walking around the fair was an amazing experience. The many rides, animals, oddities, and food all in one place were a wonderment to the many families that came out from all over the area. Yet, Maggie's level of enthusiasm was less than what Tommy had expected. She couldn't shut up most of the way there, now she was as silent as a stone.

"What's the matter with you, eh?" Tommy questioned as they walked around the fairgrounds together, "Did you want to take a spin on the big wheel ride?" He pointed up to the giant machine with carriages that slowly spun in circles.

She asked quietly, "Did you have to hurt them?" Sure, Maggie knew what her brothers did. She would be naive if she said she didn't, but she had never been a witness to it. The violence that she had often heard others speak of was now forever ingrained in her memory, becoming a standard for their future offenses. "The Lee's." She clarified although she was certain he knew what she was talking about.

"They were disrespecting us Mags," He explained as if she were younger than Finn. "You heard them."

Tommy had always tried to keep her in the dark about their business practices, which was easy when she was younger. Unlike Finn, she had always kept her nose in a book, never really paying attention to the transgressions of her siblings. But now she was beginning to notice and was starting to ask questions he'd rather not answer.

"You couldn't walk away?" Maggie inquired, looking towards anywhere but his face.

He remained silent for a moment before stiffly asking, "Do you want to get on the fucking wheel ride or not?" That was Tommy-ese for 'drop it', so she did, and added herself to the growing line. Tommy followed her lead, standing behind her he pulled a cigarette out to smoke as they waited.

Maggie was quiet the entire duration of the drive back home. The setting sun rays peeked through the gray smog as they entered Small Heath, they all noticed the place had been trashed. Broken and ripped furniture looked like they were just tossed in the streets and all those who watched the Shelby car roll slowly down the street managed to give them all a dirty look.

Arthur was the first to speak up, "Now, what the bloody hells been going on here?"

OoOoOo

Apparently, from what she gathered it had been the new copper that had been behind the trashing of their neighborhood. Maggie and Cara walked through the crowd, as they recounted the events of each other's day. Thankfully the Ryans dress shop had been spared from the destruction and Maggie told her friend everything about the fair, excluding the violent beginning of course. In front of them stood a pile of portraits that had been gathered from around all the homes and businesses of the community. Once they were lit on fire, familiar faces were lit up as well to contrast the darkness. They both soon saw Ross with a crowd of men, most likely coworkers from the BSA. Once he saw them, he waved them off and began moving toward the girls.

"Are you ever going to tell him?" Maggie asked her friend, as they watched the young man weaving his way through the crowd of people.

"I will!" Cara defended before adding, "Eventually." Maggie tried to hide her smile.

"All right ladies?" Ross greeted once he was near enough.

"So, what's all this about then?" Cara questioned somewhat flirtatiously, pointing at the heap of portraits.

"Ask Mags," Ross replied, sending the dark-haired girl a smirk, "It's her brothers that have organized all this, went 'round taking everyone's pictures."

"Oh right, because they run everything by me first." she joked, causing both her friends to chuckle. Cara soon took over in leading the conversation, but Maggie was only half paying attention. Curiously, she watched as Tommy spoke with a man that she had never seen before. He must have felt her gaze because he found her face in the crowd, causing Maggie to quickly divert her stare off her brother. Ross then pulled out a flask from a pocket inside his dark coat.

"Care for a swig?" He asked them, shaking the container slightly. Drinking alcohol was something she had never really made into a habit, for her it was only for special occasions. Without hesitation, Cara took the silver flask from his hand and drank a few gulps before passing it on to Maggie. Maggie glanced back to her brother, who was no longer watching her, but instead had gone back to his discussion with the man who was now writing something down on a pad of paper.

She grabbed the small open bottle in her hand and raised it to her friends, "Cheers." The liquid burned in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow. She coughed at the sensation, making Cara laugh as she took the flask back in her hand, downing what was inside again. The small group of friends joked and drank for the next hour or so, as the flames of the bonfire created a comforting warmth over the burning expressionless eyes of his majesty the king.

OoOoOo

After drinking so much during the bonfire, Cara must not have been feeling too well because she didn't show up to school the next day. Not only that, but it also seemed as though Finn decided to skip again. So unfortunately for Maggie, she was fated to walk home alone. Slung over her shoulder was her book bag which carried a few books, pens, and her journal. As she walked past the first alleyway, she felt a presence quickly appear next to her.

"In need of some company?" Ross asked, tossing his finished cigarette onto the pavement.

"That would be nice." She smiled up at his tall frame, which had a good five inches on her.

He motioned to the bookbag that rested on her shoulder, "Let me help with that."

"I can carry it myself." She calmly asserted, which made the young man grin.

"Now how would it look to all these people around us if I didn't help you with that, Hm?" He waved his index finger around to point at various people going about their day, "Word will get back to my mum, and she'd beat me for not being the gallant gentleman she raised. And you'd be responsible for that. I'm only trying to save you from a guilty conscience later on."

She supposed she shouldn't let that happen. With a small smile, she passed the bag to him which he took gladly.

"Last night was fun, eh?" He continued, slinging her bag over his shoulder.

"It was," she replied, allowing her mind to wander through the fresh memories. "Though I think Cara had too much fun."

"Sounds like her," he snickered out, "Never scared of fun."

"What else do you think about her?" The dark-haired girl pressed.

"Who, Cara?" He asked and Maggie nodded. "I dunno." He shrugged, adding, "Nice I suppose."

"Oh c'mon, you have to see the way she looks at you" Maggie alluded.

"Never noticed." He admitted, looking uncomfortable.

She knew she couldn't push the matter any further than that. It was time to change the subject, "How's work?"

"Factory is on strike again." He answered her, appearing more relaxed, "Freddie thinks we should be compensated more. Guess we'd need that in order to make up for the wages we've lost."

She couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course, Freddy had something to do with this. Though she always admired her brothers' old friend for sticking to his beliefs, she silently judged anyone whose beliefs ranged on the spectrum of radical. "Freddie needs to be more careful. As do you, he's going to get everyone in some serious trouble."

He smiled at her worried words, "He'll be fine. I heard from other workers that he skipped town after the raid. As for me, I think that a bit of trouble is the only way to get what you want."

They had just turned onto Watery Lane, their pace began to slow until they eventually stopped just across the street from the front door of her home. "You didn't have to walk me all the way home, you know," she told him as he handed her book bag back.

His hazel eyes meet her blue ones, "I'd do anything for you, Margaret," he declared seriously. She couldn't help but think that there was a hidden meaning in his words. Was she reading too much into this? He must have meant that as her friend, right?

"I-," she started.

"Maggie!" Tommy's voice rang out.

Maggie turned her head to see her brother as he made his way toward them. The girl's heart clenched at the thought of what he was going to do. Her mind had quickly jumped back to the memory of yesterday, the slashing, the anger, the blood. She glanced over to Ross, whose expression went from nervous to stoic in a matter of seconds.

"Go inside," Tommy instructed once he stood close enough to the two teens.

"But-"

"Now Mags," he commanded with a low voice. Coolly, Tommy took a drag from his cigarette that was resting in between his fingers, not taking his eyes off Ross.

With a huff and a final look towards her friend, Maggie bid him farewell before swiftly walking toward the front door of her family home. Once the dark-haired girl was out of earshot Ross apprehensively spoke, "Mr. Shelby I- I was just walking her home, I wasn't trying to-"

"I know Ross," Tommy assured the anxious young man, tossing his finished cigarette to the ground. Pol had told him that the young Murray lad had helped look after his sister while he and his brothers were away in France. Had even heard a rumor amongst some of the younger men in the betting shop that he knocked the shit out of another boy who was sniffing around Margaret. If that was true, Tommy felt indebted. He was a busy man, so he cut to the chase, "You beat a bloke that was giving Maggie trouble?"

Ross modestly nodded at his question. "You're a good lad." The gangster commended, passing the young man one of his cigarettes from its silver metal casing. He also lit a match to assist him with lighting it. "Is your Uncle Ian still living in Dublin?"

Ross had to admit, he wasn't expecting the line of questioning to head in this direction. Nevertheless, he nodded once again, removing the rolled tobacco from his lips to allow a puff of smoke to escape from his lungs. The young man's confusion ceased when he watched Tommy pull out two pounds sterling from his pocket. Ross’s eyes couldn't help but widen at the act.

"Good, I want you to do me a favor. Call him and tell him to ask around all the local pubs in town if they know anything about a barmaid named Grace Burgess." As much as Tommy wanted to say he didn't care about this new woman who had found herself working at The Garrison, he needed to know exactly where she came from and if she was telling the truth. Digging out another pound he said, "Here send this to your uncle too."

"I will Mr. Shelby," he assured, accepting the coins in his outreached hand.

Tommy turned away and began walking toward his home, without looking back he added, "Welcome to the Peaky Blinders, Ross."

OoOoOo

When Maggie entered her home, she found Polly sitting in the kitchen reading a newspaper and drinking tea. "Hello, love. How was school?"

"Fine." She replied curtly, dropping her book bag onto the floor beside the table. She immediately moved to the window, looking out just in time to see Tommy lighting a cigarette for Ross. Relief washed over Maggie, this conversation thankfully seemed as though it wouldn't involve fists... or razor blades.

Polly's eyes were now on her, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." Maggie tore herself away from the window to sit down opposite her aunt, pulling out her journal and pen from the book bag next to her feet. Tommy ended up entering the kitchen not two minutes later.

"I hope you didn't tell my friend that you'd hurt him." Maggie told her brother much more boldly than she felt, "He was just being kind."

He stared at her for a moment before replying knowingly, "Now why would I hurt my newest recruit." With that, he exited into the betting shop closing the doors behind him. She gapped, still looking at the shut doors trying to process how Tommy could ever involve her friend in whatever schemes he was engaging in.

Her emotions must have shown all over her face because her aunt chuckled slightly. "I wouldn't worry too much about your friend," Polly told her eyes still on the black and white paper. But Maggie couldn't stop herself from slumping into the old wooden chair before she continued writing, ultimately stopping when she felt her sister's presence enter the room.

"Good of you to join us," Polly said to Ada from behind her newspaper. "Where have you been all day?

"In bed," Ada replied. "Couldn't sleep, then I couldn't wake up, then I was cold, and then I had to go for a wee. Then I was with this bear on a boat, but that was just a dream, then I was hungry." Maggie looked up from her journal once again to see that Ada took the empty seat between her and their aunt with a massive slice of bread with a jar of jam in hand.

Maggie looked pointedly at the last of the bread that she had made recently, "Jesus Ada, save some food for the rest of us."

Ada stuck her tongue out, before looking at her aunt, "Why are you reading the paper?" Ada inquired.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Polly questioned back, picking up her teacup.

"I've never seen you read the paper. I've only ever seen you light fires with them." The older Shelby sister continued, taking a bite of her food.

"BSA is on strike" Polly explained, "The miners are on strike. IRA are killing our boys, ten a day." Though when Polly stopped talking, she continued to stare at Ada eating.

The older girl soon noticed her aunt's gaze. "What?" She asked in between her chewing.

"Stand up," Polly commanded.

"Why?" Ada questioned.

"Just stand up," Polly ordered standing up herself, eventually Ada compiled, "Side on," Polly added and Ada motioned her body to face to the side. Maggie was taken aback when Polly suddenly cupped one of her sisters' breasts.

Though Ada was much more reactionary, "What are you doing?!"

"Ada, how late are you?" Polly asked seriously and Maggie couldn't stop her mouth as it fell open slightly.

"One week." Not too bad, Maggie thought. "Five weeks," Ada amended. It wasn't ideal, but maybe she was due any day now. "Seven, if you count weekends." The girl corrected herself once again.

"Holy Fuck, "Maggie shook her head in disbelief.

Ada seemed desperate for this not to be the reality, "I think it's a lack of iron. I got some tablets." She explained to them, as Polly sat back down in her chair.

"But they didn't work." Their aunt concluded.

Ada too sat back down, "No."

Maggie gulped at her sister's answer and looked to her aunt, watching Polly as she took a deep breath. The thought process could not be seen on her face, but the young girls knew that the situation was being meticulously addressed in her mind. "Get dressed. We're going to the midwife. Let's just make sure you are before anyone makes any rash decisions."

Ada nodded, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. Maggie's heart clenched, and moved her hand over her sisters, squeezing it slightly. Whatever was to come, they would weather through it together.

#peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #shelby sister #oc #ada shelby #alfie solomons #john shelby #polly shelby #peakyblinders #1920 #arthur shelby #finn shelby

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fxcking-anon · 4 years

Text

Red Cardigan

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: None :)

Word Count: 2,017

A/N: I just can’t stop thinking about how cute this would be and I’m touch starved from quarantine, what else can I say? (@random-ravings you asked and you shall receive.) Also, it has been years since I’ve written so cut me a tiny bit of slack as I get back on the horse...also I’ve never written a reader insert before lol.

P.S. I did proofread this but I’m also tired and maybe a little tipsy so....

----------

Your eyes fluttered open, met with bright sun streaming in between the slats of your bedroom blinds. You squinted and stretched, letting your back crack as you sat up. You instantly regretted it. The covers had fallen from your chest, leaving you exposed to the icy temperatures of your apartment. Looking around, you found something red and soft folded on your nightstand. You quickly pulled it on, buttoning it as fast as you can with your numb fingers.

As you covered your hands with the sleeves, you realized this was Spencer’s cardigan. His cologne lingered, making you smile as you took in a deep breath. You looked to your left to see him, still asleep and hugging his pillow. His face was always so peaceful when he slept. Spencer cared so much about his cases, something you absolutely adored about him. However, it did make you sad to see how he carried that stress with him. So often you caught him staring off into space, brows furrowed and fingers tapping on his thigh. Asleep, Spencer’s whole body was relaxed. His breaths were deep and even. He didn’t clench his jaw or his shoulders. He just...was. You smiled as you stared at him. It was hard not to, he just looked so soft and small.

He let out a small sigh and squeezed the pillow a little tighter, making your heart flutter. You leaned down to place a soft kiss on his temple. He smiled in his sleep, making your heart swell even more. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. 9:13 am. You and Spencer rarely had a morning to sleep in together. Your work schedules were unpredictable, both of you often getting called in at the last minute. So you decided to make the most of the morning.

You braced yourself for the cold of the apartment as you peeled off the covers and stepped onto the hardwood. Pulling out the drawer of the nightstand, you pulled out your thickest pair of fuzzy socks slipped your feet into them. You then slid over to the dresser to pull on some underwear. Spencer had rid you of those early last night. When you both knew you had the next morning off, you made the most of it the night before. You glanced briefly at the bit of exposed skin on your chest, finding it littered with love bites, and giggled. Spencer had a habit of leaving marks. He would never say it, but he liked seeing physical proof you were his. And honestly, so did you. You always found yourself disappointed as they faded.

You tiptoed your way into the small kitchen of your apartment, lightly shutting the bedroom door on your way. Knowing there were fresh blueberries in the fridge, you decided to whip up one of Spencer’s favorites, blueberry pancakes. Before you pulled out the pancake mix, you started a pot of coffee. Your boyfriend’s caffeine addiction had gotten to the point where he couldn’t function without at least two cups of coffee. Rather than try to have a conversation with a walking zombie, you learned to have coffee on hand when he rose from the dead.

You were just about finished stirring the blueberries into the batter when you heard shuffling behind you. “Y/N?”

You turned around to see Spencer, wrapped in a cable knit blanket, standing in the kitchen door frame. His eyes were half shut, resisting the natural light pouring through the kitchen windows. It certainly didn’t help that two inches of snow had accumulated the night before, reflecting everything off of the bright white surface.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” you smiled at him as you turned back to your batter. You quickly ran your hand under the faucet and flicked a few water droplets onto your frying pan. Hearing them sizzle, you rummaged around a drawer for a ladle. You could hear Spencer shuffle over to the coffee pot and pull a mug out of the cabinet. You ladled the first three pancakes into the pan before turning to your boyfriend again. He was in the middle of adding a fifth spoonful of sugar to his coffee when he sensed your eyes on him and turned.

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy and low. You stepped to him and wrapped your arms around him, letting him pull his blanket around the both of you. Between the blanket, his sweater and him, his scent flooded your body. You wanted to freeze that moment and stay there forever. It wasn’t that you didn’t love the more spontaneous moments of your relationship. There, right in that moment, you were just completely at peace. You could hear the steady rhythm of his heart beat and his warmth radiated into you. This was true contentment. This was peace. “Baby, as much as I love your hugs, your pancakes are going to burn,” Spencer said, releasing his hold on you. You leaned up to give him a quick peck before grabbing your spatula and flipping the pancakes over.

“Do you want to grab some plates? I was going to set the table before I went to wake you up. Seems that coffee went and did that for me instead.”

Spencer just hummed in agreement before beginning to set your kitchen table. You flipped the pancakes one more time, making sure they were golden brown on both sides. Right as you were piling them onto the spatula, you heard Spencer take in a sharp breath.

“Is that...is that my cardigan?” His stare was intense as he raked his eyes down your body from your semi exposed chest to where the cardigan rested at the tops of your thighs.

You rounded the table to place the three pancakes on his plate, standing between his legs. “It is, you left it on the nightstand and it looked so warm. It’s freezing in the apartment today,” you leaned down to peck his nose when he lightly grabbed the back of your neck and guided you into a deeper kiss. Pulling you onto his lap, he started to pepper kisses down your neck. You let out a light moan as he lightly sucked on one of the marks he’d left last night.

Bringing his lips to your ear, he mumbled in his gruff morning voice, “I knew I liked you in my clothes Y/N, but this has to be my new favorite.” You lifted a hand under his chin to pull his lips back to yours. The kiss was soft and slow, making you feel just the slightest bit lightheaded.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, moving to get up to flip the second round of pancakes. His hands slid to your hips and held you for a second. “The pancakes,” you whined at him, shuffling a little bit to try and wiggle from his grip. He pressed another kiss to your lips before releasing you. Even as you turned your back to him to tend to your breakfast, you could feel his eyes on you, boring holes into your back. You flipped the pancakes smoothly, refusing to let yourself turn around to meet his gaze just yet. As badly as you wanted him, your anxiety was screaming that the apartment would catch on fire if you left the frying pan unattended again. So you stood there, still, feeling his eyes on you as you waited for the second round of pancakes to brown. When they finally did, you stacked them on your spatula again and turned off the stove top.

Turning around, you found Spencer halfway through his pancakes. You deposited your pancakes on your own plate and sat down. Your pancakes, however, remained untouched. Now it was you who was staring. His hair curled around his face and stuck up at strange angle in the back. He hadn’t yet had his daily fight with his cowlick. He’d tied his blanket around his neck like a cape so he could have his hands free to eat. It amazed you sometimes how he could be both adorable and drop dead sexy at the same time. Noticing you were staring, Spencer’s eyes flitted up to meet yours. His fork hovered halfway between the plate and his mouth. It took him a moment before he decided to set it down. He sat upright and continued to hold your gaze.

“You are so beautiful,” he said. You felt the blush rush to your cheeks as you broke the gaze. You turned away from him, fixating your eyes on the grout between the kitchen tiles. “Y/N,” Spencer said, urging you to look at him again. You turned back to him hesitantly, barely meeting his gaze. You knew Spencer loved you, that he thought all those wonderful things about you. However, it didn’t make it any easier for you to accept his compliments. Years of insecurity and toxic relationships will do that to a person.

You met his eyes tentatively. “Yes?”

“You are so, so beautiful,” Spencer said again. “Your mind, your soul, your body...they’re all so very beautiful.” You blushed even harder this time and forced yourself to maintain the eye contact. “Every day,” Spencer continued, “I’m amazed by how beautiful your heart is. You care so much about people and you would give any and everything for the people you love. It makes you radiant. You just radiate love and kindness and positivity.”

You wanted to go to him. You wanted to take his face in your hands and kiss every square inch of it. You wanted to show him just how deeply you loved him. Spencer was always better with words than you were. It certainly helped that he had every word in the dictionary permanently imprinted in his brain.

You decided to go to him. You stood and walked around the table before perching on the edge of the table right in front of him. “I love you,” you whispered, cupping his chin in between your hands. He leaned forward to catch your lips in his again. He kissed you slowly, taking his time. He tasted like maple syrup and coffee and in that moment, that combination was the most divine taste in the world. It was your nectar of the gods. He ran his hands up your sides, once again pulling you into his lap. He chuckled into your kiss and you pulled away to look at him quizzically.

“You feel so soft,” Spencer said, chuckling again as he ran his hands over the fabric of his cardigan.

“Babe, this is yours. You wear this. All the time.” Your brow was furrowed as you cocked your head to the side to stare at him.

“I know! But I never feel the outside of it like this. I like it, it’s warm.” He proceeded to bury his face in your chest to press the soft fabric to his face. You laughed as he pulled you closer, his face settled directly between your breasts.

“Spence!” you giggled, “That tickles!” His hair was brushing lightly against your skin as you squirmed against him, just tickling you further. Somehow, you managed to slip from his grip and hop off the table.

As you ran from the kitchen, Spencer jumped up to chase you. “Y/N,” he whined, “Baby, come back!” He caught up to you quickly. His long legs gave him that advantage in your tiny apartment. He grabbed your waist from behind, tugging you into his chest. You spun around to face him and roped your arms over his shoulders.

“I like you in my cardigan, Y/N,” Spencer said again, softly as his lips pressed to your ear.

“Funny, I thought you’d like me better without it,” you said, a coy smile creeping onto your face. His expression darkened slightly. You knew what buttons to push to get a reaction out of him. Spencer liked to be right, he always had to come out on top.

“Oh, so you want to play dirty?” Spencer challenged back. Before you knew what was happening, he’d scooped you up over his shoulder and started towards the bedroom. “Fine, let’s play dirty.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #you in his cardigan #just winter morning cuddly moments ya know

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 3 years

Text

ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴛ | ᴋᴀɪ ᴄʜɪꜱᴀᴋɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ

Y’all thought it was oVER? lolol Blame Admin T--- I asked her who I should write for BNHA and she said this SO ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ As always, thank you all so much for the love and support for this blog~! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did with writing it~!

I do apologize if I don’t capture his character the best ;;”

I won’t lie, I was listening to Might U as I was writing this.

» » Admin Ko

Tedious. At least, that’s what it should’ve been. Yet instead of feeling the normal bouts of irritation at the lack of control he had over the situation at hand, he felt...unnerved. The imaginary seed that was implanted in his stomach all those months ago seemed to only gain in mass.

“...Who are you?”

He shouldn’t have allowed himself to grow these...feelings. Not only did he feel contaminated and utterly sick to his stomach, but the strange ache in his chest did nothing to help soothe his frazzled nerves as those curious yet dim (e/c) hues peered into his sorrowful golden ones.

“...My name is Chisaki Kai...”

“Oh! Hello Chisaki.”

A bout of coughing and another grimace as the pain in his chest amplified tenfold at the horrifying sound. It disgusted him. It truly did, yet instead of feeling the need to get away, he wanted to get closer to her. To comfort her-- hell to shake some common sense into her. Even if it meant he would break out, he just had to do something.

“I...apologize if this seems rude...”

“What is it?”

“...what happened to your arms?”

“...I lost them because I was careless. This...I suppose, is my punishment.”

Her curious stare continued to wash over him as he felt the prickle of goosebumps rise on his shoulders. Turning away, he kept his gaze on the vacant wall of the hospital ward. This was torturous. She was torturous.

Yet still she managed to worm her way into his heart, and he didn’t know whether or not if he wanted to ask for cardiac surgery or to embrace this newfound emotion.

All he really knew was that if he had only been smarter-- hell maybe even faster at coming up with the quirk-destroying drug he could’ve prevented this. He could’ve gotten rid of the parasite that lurked in her veins.

➽───────────────❥

6 Months Ago

“Patient name: (y/n) (l/n). Quirk: Amnesiac.”

Trudging down the corridor, the man once known as Overhaul, walked in step alongside his parole officer / attending doctor. It hadn’t been too long since his arrest and...amputation. In all honesty, he wondered why he was being granted this rare privilege.

An assistant for a patient. That’s all they had told him. Of course Kai had to scoff. How on earth was he supposed to help? With the lack of usable limbs and knowledge limited to that of basic medical needs he didn’t really find a real necessity in this patient’s apparent ‘recovery’.

“...Amnesiac?”

“As it’s name implies, it’s a quirk that deals the user amnesia--- yet in our patient’s case it not only forces her to lose her memories, but practically breaks down her body’s physical state.”

“...In simpler terms?”

“In short every time she loses her memory her body deteriorates along with it. It’s as if her body is, in a sense...rewinding itself forward to make up for the fact that she lost those memories.”

A grimace. If he could, he would’ve spat out that he had been right in his assumption that quirks were just an infestation to the world, this patient clearly being a poor victim of it.

“...And what is my purpose of ‘assisting’ you?”

“As far as I’m aware, you’re pretty damn heartless and selfish. So it should be easy for you to not catch feelings for her whilst being a constant in her life right?”

“A...constant.”

“Yeah, just someone who she sees everyday until well...”

“She passes.”

“I mean...yeah. Damn you really are heartless.”

“Tch. This is a waste of my time is what this is.”

“Hey, you’re helping me whether you want to or not man. It’s just a visit everyday for like, an hour or two at most.”

Another grimace was given as Kai felt a shiver run down his spine. Despite the place he would be in was a hospital, it still brought the ex-yakuza boss a sense of dread. Especially with the amount of infested bodies that littered the place.

“...how long?”

“Holy shit dude, I get that you don’t want to do this but seriously---”

“How long until she loses her memory you dumbass.”

“..Oh. Well, from what we gather they can last from a day, to a couple of months. Though the longer she stays in a...well, let’s call it a session, the more it harms her body.”

“So say she forgets me tomorrow.”

“Then her body moves forward a day.”

“....After a month?”

“She lurches forward a month.”

“Thus leading to a quick progression in her deteriorating health.”

“...Exactly.”

It was, to say the least, unsettling to hear. Never had he heard of such a sickening twist for a quirk. No matter, the deal was simple. If he was lucky, this would last a year-- as fucked up as it sounded, the sooner she passed the less she would suffer in the long run.

As they neared the door, the clear unease that settled on his features was one that his parole doctor could see from a mile away.

“Chill dude, it’ll be fine.”

With that, the door cracked open, and there seated quietly whilst reading a book was a woman. By any standards she was normal, average, easy on the eyes with a slight fae-like feel. Though really it was most likely the early evening glow that cascaded into her room the moment they entered.

All Kai really knew was that it was the moment when gold met glittering (e/c) hues that a seed lodged it’s way into his stomach.

➽───────────────❥

It had started off easy-- well in Kai’s opinion it had. Every other day seemed to be a new start to the ritual that was re-introducing himself to her and making small talk.

In all honesty, he wouldn’t admit it, but the simplicity of being able to have a normal conversation with someone brought a sense of peace in him. Of course this didn’t mean his usual snark and calculating ways-- or so he says.

For Kai, this change in routine was oddly enough, welcomed. With everything he had gone and the collogues he had imprisoned god knows where, the opportunity to engage in small talk was to say the least, enlightening. It had surprised him. As someone who sought out tactical moves in reading his opponents, he found himself at ease with the simplicity of where he was at.

Granted it was albeit dull in comparison to the interrogations he goes through, it was still a part of his routine that he refused to change. Not when he’s been so invested in it.

That changes when the day he enters her room to find that instead of having to reintroduce himself to her, she remembers him. She flashes him a gentle smile with an endearing, “How are you?” and that in itself has the former yakuza leader lose his breath as he can only comically blink at her before forcing himself to adjust to this strange change.

No later did another change occur that brought a wave of new emotions in him. She had touched him. A caress to his cheek, and unsurprisingly in that moment he broke out in hives. His sight blurring as panic shot through his system at the abundance of thoughts that struck his head as the irritation from the hives had him reeling away from her.

He didn’t see her distressed face. Nor did he see the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she desperately sought out someone to help him. Instead, he awoke to his room laying down with his hives treated.

He felt violated. Disgusted, yet still. Even with that he found himself at her door a week later. Prepared to start a new with her and a possible replay of what had happened a week prior. Instead, he found her bowed deeply at the waist as she tightly clutched at the thin fabric of her hospital gown.

“I’m so sorry Chisaki! I didn’t know...I deeply apologize for what had happened!”

“...You...remembered?”

“Of course! You’re someone I can never forget.”

The pit in his stomach grew tenfold as his feet began to walk towards the awaiting lounge chair. Golden hues met truthful (e/c) ones as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat before once again bowing.

“I really am sorry...I shouldn’t have reached out to you like that...”

“...just be more aware next time.”

And like that, the pit in his stomach continued to grow. With each passing day she retained her memories, the more the pit swelled in size, and the more she began to work her way into his heart.

➽───────────────❥

Present Day

He didn’t know why he felt an overwhelming pressure in his gut. The lack of food he ate was odd enough, but to actively avoid something out of his daily routine? It was unheard of. He even made that stupid request to ask his parole doctor to grab (y/n) that stupid drink she liked.

Mentally shaking his head, Kai lightly tapped his shoe against the door before sliding it open.

The sight bestowed upon him though was one that could’ve brought him to his knees as the pang in his chest seemed to duly ache as he dragged his feet into the room.

“...(y/n)?”

It was quiet. The warm beams of the spring sun settled on her pale features as dim (e/c) orbs glimmered at the sight of him. He should’ve seen this coming. Especially after she had remembered him the day it set everything out of pattern. Instead, he turned a blind eye. Out of pure ignorance? He wasn’t remotely sure anymore. All he knew was that she shouldn’t be like this.

She should be her stupid lively self, cracking jokes and sharing her stupid stories with him. Not laying there like a corpse.

“Ah...Chi-- Kai, sorry you caught me waking up from a nap. I’m sorry I don’t look more presentable...”

“Nonsense. Now, tell me what you’ve done today.”

“Straight to the point huh? Sometimes I wonder how you’d ever date anyone.”

Though weak, the teasing tone she held in her voice was one that added more weight to his chest as he seated himself in what she declared the ‘(y/n)’s best friend’s chair’. A stupid name if you asked him, but he wouldn’t tell her that.

And like that, she spoke of her day, simple tasks and duties she’s done during her stay at the hospital while Kai listened to her as the best friend she claimed he was.

As for the new name basis, Kai couldn’t tell anyone when it picked up. All he knew was that it didn’t piss him off as much as it should’ve.

As the time neared for him to leave, she stopped him. A look of hesitance on her face as irritation seemed to grow on his own.

“What is it?”

“....Can I hold your face?”

“What?!”

“With gloves on!”

The statement caught him by surprise. Already he felt the disgusting voices in the back of his head whisper at him yet instead of acting on those voices he found himself mutely staring at her as she fumbled over her words.

All he could really pick out was the light blush that was on her cheeks. The spark of color that brought his feet towards her bedside as she stared up at him with shock in those (e/c) eyes.

“Tch. What are you waiting for?”

Caught off guard, she could only stare at him for a moment before giddily shifting herself to get off the bed. A noise of distaste left his throat at her motion as she merely rolled her eyes and shushed him as she went to fervently clean her hands before snapping on the gloves.

Yet as she did this he couldn’t help but feel the ache in his chest grow even more at the sight of her frail hands and the subtle appearance of a bruise around her wrist at her careless motion of snapping the gloves on. This was immediately forgone as she walked up to him, mindful to keep a distance before she hesitantly held her hands out in a flower cup motion.

At first, Kai had no idea what she was doing, but as he grew to analyze the situation-- as well as remember the odd videos and photos she decided to show him as she sought a sort of relationship herself-- he carefully put his chin into her hands. The hesitancy of her fingers brushing his cheeks pulled a new sort of fondness in his chest as he finally relaxed his cheek against her shy hand.

Golden eyes peered deeply into glimmering (e/c) as he watched her face light up with the most color he had see on her that day. Satisfied, he waited until she finally let go.

“...Thank you, Kai.”

“No problem.”

“No really...thank you...for everything.”

Unease quickly overtook the fondness in his heart as he straightened himself out. Confusion was clearly matted onto his features as he stared down at her.

“...Why are you saying that?”

“What? I can’t say what I want for once? You let me all the time so just let me say this too!”

Finding the whole situation uncomfortable, Kai made his way to the door once more. Though before he left he motioned with his head for her to get back into bed. In response, he got her usual snark as she stuck her tongue out before carefully getting back into bed.

“If you’re on good behavior tomorrow, I’ll have your doctor bring you that drink of yours.”

The light in her eyes was enough to satisfy him and his worries as she nodded quickly before giving him a mock salute as she excitedly got herself comfy in the bed.

“Alright, you promised Kai~!”

➽───────────────❥

“Who are you?”

It should’ve have hurt him as much as it did, but after 6 fucking months. 6 months of her being a daily part of his life where she did not forget him for a single moment came crashing down. The tremble that clutched tightly to his words as he re-introduced himself went unnoticed as he slowly made his way towards the lounge chair that was once considered to be (y/n)’s best friend’s chair.

“...My name is Chisaki Kai.”

“Oh! Hello Chisaki.”

He could tell she was straining with keeping up a happy front. Her appearance was frail. So delicate that he feared anyone who touched her would be the cause of her disappearing before his eyes. The drink he had requested for her sat innocently on the bedside table as she gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be okay...”

“...what?”

“You look...distressed, I wanted to just reassure you things will be okay.”

No they won’t. He wanted to scream it at her, that the rasp in her voice was punching holes into his gut. That the frail breathing she had was worse than his quirk being taken away from him.

And in that moment, they stayed in silence. Merely watching one another with mixed emotions before he broke back into the routine he once thought would be meaningless.

“...What did you do today?”

Her words, though slow, told him of a peaceful day. One with little adventures and many simple moments that he’s come to slowly appreciate in his own life.

Though as the hour of his leave came, he found it hard to get up from the chair. His feet staying practically cemented to the floor as he watched her peer out the window as the warm rays of the early evening sun cascaded over her. Much like it had that day he first saw her.

Forcefully pushing himself up from the chair, he made his way towards the door. Yet each step he took towards it the more the aching feeling in his chest grew as the fear of his last day in that room came to it’s due date.

“...Kai? Can you turn around for me...just once?”

The words caught him completely off guard as he turned to face her. Those eyes no longer were filed with guarded walls. Instead he was met with the face of (y/n). The woman he came to slowly adore within the past 6 months.

He didn’t even think. Instead he surged forward, practically bruising his legs at the force he decided to stop himself with. Though he didn’t care. The bruises be damned, she remembered him.

“...Can I hold your face? One more time? I promise I won’t ask again. I’ll even wear gloves!”

“...No need.”

The aching in his chest grew tenfold as he found it hard to speak. The overwhelming emotions that sat in his chest were ready to burst out of him. Though he wasn’t sure how. Instead he bent down slightly, finding her confused face even more endearing before he rolled his eyes.

“Well?”

“B-But...the hives---”

“I don’t care. Hurry the fuck up.”

Like that, the confusion vanished as she gently put her hands together in that familiar flower cup motion. Worry was clearly evident in her eyes as she looked at him, but before she could even question again he placed his chin into her awaiting hands. Already the prickly sensation of the hives began to pool as he could feel them form across his skin.

“K-Kai--”

“It’s fine. Shut up. You said you won’t ask again.”

“T-That’s true...”

“Tch. You can make it up to me by getting better so I can show you the world.”

“...when you’re not in prison anymore, right?”

“Right...”

It was hard to speak now. The lump that once was in his stomach had traveled to his throat as he watched her warm (e/c) glisten with unshed tears as she gently caressed his cheeks, ever so mindful of his hives as she tried to at least move her hands. Instead, the male pressed himself further into her touch as the tears began to fall. If anyone noticed the strain in his voice, they didn’t mention it.

“...If you’re gonna be greedy that do what you’ve been wanting to do you romantic obsessed moron.”

With that, she shifted forward before pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead as the tears came down harder. The lump in his throat making it almost unbearable to talk.

“...Thank you Kai...thank you so much for these six months...”

“.....”

“Don’t forget me...okay?”

“Idiot...as if I could even forget the one dumbass that made me breakout after my imprisonment.”

A weak laugh was given as she finally pulled away. With her eyes rimmed red, she shifted to make a call for a nurse, though that was cut short as Kai surprisingly climbed into her bed. No words were exchanged as she reluctantly shifted herself down into the bed-- though it did take time, she managed to curl herself in a way where she left distance between them.

“...aren’t you supposed to go?”

Featherlike and faint, he strained to hear her as he shifted himself down to properly face her as he melted in her (e/c) gaze. The slow dimming of life in her eyes was enough to tell him that it was time. However, he refused to believe it. If anything he’d find her awake the next day with that silly smile on her face. Yet even as he thought about this, the tears that he once thought were impossible for him, slowly began to stream down his cheeks as he nestled himself closer to her.

“....one day won’t kill them.”

“...mmm...”

“....go to sleep angel, I’ll be right here...”

“...and...you’ll be next to me?”

“...always.”

➽───────────────❥

Patient Name: (y/n) (l/n) Chisaki Quirk: Amnesiac

Time of Death: 6:05PM

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #overhaul x reader #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki x reader #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #bnha imagines #chisaki angst #we about to drop more angst in this bish #i know i should be working on wips and requests but i can't help it ksksksk

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kiara-carrera · 3 years

Note

34. Having them as a background/lockscreen with Leah & JJ?

NO BECAUSE I WAS PRAYING SOMEONE WOULD ASK FOR THIS ONE SO THANK YOU FOR FULFILLING MY DREAMS

having them as your lock screen/background: leah + jj

By the time Leah’s eyes fluttered open, the sun was already beginning to set. The blinds on the windows weren’t shuttered fully, letting the last bit of evening light stream into the room, painting orange-y gold stripes across everything in its wake. Her body felt heavy, thick with just broken sleep, her eyelids like little lead weights struggling to function.

A few blinks and a half-stifled yawn were all it took for her to blearily peer around the room. She’d spent the day at the Chateau with JJ and now that she was able to pick out her surroundings as the pull out couch in the living room, she figured that she must have fallen asleep at some point.

They’d had plans to go surfing, their days off from work matching up for the first time in two weeks, but they’d gotten rained out before they could even leave. A bolt of lightning and a crack of thunder to follow had been the final nail in the coffin.

It hadn’t been all bad — John B was out working for most of the day, having picked up some oddball jobs around the island taking care of some Kook’s property. That had left the Chateau to just Leah and JJ and whatever they chose to get up to.

In no particular order, it had been complaining about the rain, raiding the fridge for snacks, a very intense wrestling match for the last cookie in the cabinet that had ended up with JJ making a crude joke about being pinned down, smoking the last of the weed JJ had gotten off his cousin Ricky, and a whole lot of making out. Leah couldn’t exactly what the last thing had been that led them to be passed out on the couch, but she was pretty sure it involved cuddling if the heavy arm draped across her waist had anything to say about it.

JJ’s face was nuzzled into the crook of her neck, half-buried in her hair as his short little breaths tickled the skin of her shoulder. She couldn’t see his face and didn’t want to risk turning back and waking him up just to look at him, but she could already picture the content little expression he’d be wearing. The thought made her smile a little.

He was always peaceful when he slept — well, at least, he was peaceful when he slept with her. There were numerous times over the years where she caught him fidgeting and turning over every five minutes when he slept alone, but he’d never been like that with her, sleeping soundly like a rock. Whether he was holding her or, the more likely option, she was holding him, he’d always sleep well, face free of the little wrinkle he sometimes got between his brows.

Sighing happily, she let her hand drift down to where JJ’s was slumped against her, slipping her fingers between his as she readjusted her position on the pillow. Leah was all for falling back to sleep, dealing with dinner and going home later if it meant getting more time relaxing with her boyfriend.

Just as her eyes started to slip close, a bright flash of light in front of her startled her back awake. Squinting a bit, she could see where they’d tossed their phones earlier on the couch beside them, JJ’s lighting up with a few notifications.

Yawning, Leah gently slipped her hand off of JJ’s, her hand patting across the bed for his phone almost blindly through her bleary, sleep-ridden vision. John B’s name was the first thing she noticed, a few new messages about how he was getting off early and was planning on bringing some pizza back home for the two of them, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

What did catch her eye though, just as she was about to shoot him a message to get enough for three and that she’d spot him some cash if he got some garlic knots as well, was the semi blurred image of JJ’s lock screen behind the notifications.

Leah wasn’t sure when JJ had changed the standard preset factory wallpaper, but she knew for a fact that whatever she was managing to make out behind John B’s texts was not it. The majority of the image was blocked, only the bottom half of a person in a bikini left somewhat visible.

What in the world ... she thought to herself, eyes narrowing in confusion.

She swiped her thumb across the screen, getting rid of the notifications with the intent to get to them later. When the last one was deleted, the full picture JJ had set as his lock screen was no longer obstructed or blurred. Leah wasn’t exactly sure what she had been picturing she’d find, but it most definitely wasn’t what she was met with.

A picture of herself that she’d never seen before was smiling back at her. Leah could recognize the marsh in the background and the back end of the Pogue where she was seated, dressed in her favorite yellow daisy printed bikini that had cost a little too much, a wide smile on her face as a can of Natural Light was held precariously in her hand. She wasn’t looking directly at the camera, the photo somewhat candid as she appeared to be laughing at something behind the person taking the picture.

The screen went black but she was quick to click it back on, once again staring at herself. Her cheeks felt warm as the reality of the situation set in, a pleasant flush that complimented the sudden fast pace of her heartbeat.

He’d made her his lock screen and she felt a smile threaten to break across her face at the pure surprise of it all.

There were things that JJ was and things that he wasn’t. A mild kleptomaniac, a fierce friend, a scrappy fighter, her best friend, and a damn good boyfriend if her biased opinion meant anything — those were things he was. But the kind of boyfriend that made his significant other his phone’s background? Yeah, that seemed like it bordered more along the lines of cheesy romcom shit that he’d make fun of.

Hell, they barely even took pictures together. There were the occasional Snapchats they’d take lying in bed goofing around late at night and there were some pictures in her bedside table from when they were younger, crinkled at the corners. And she had some pictures that Kie had managed to snap at the last second before either noticed, a few candids of them being “disgustingly adorable” as their friend had put it.

Any other photos she had of JJ were just of him. Some were of him doing stupid shit that she compiled over the years, sometimes with John B or Pope making cameos. Some were the Snaps he’d send her that she deemed either dumb enough or hot enough to be screenshotted (which was always followed up by a teasing text message from him that would get a prompt middle finger emoji in reply).

She wouldn’t be surprised if he had pictures of her on his phone, more than likely of her dumb Snapchats she didn’t want screenshots taken of (she knew for a fact he had the picture of her ugly crying to a Disney movie she watched a month ago because he’d started using it as a meme when texting her). But she wasn’t really sure how many pictures he’d realistically keep of her.

JJ wasn’t romantic in any traditional sense. Making someone their wallpaper just seemed very out of place in their relationship. So yeah, she was definitely thrown for a loop seeing herself on his phone, partially obscured by the clock displaying the late hour.

Her heart fluttered in her chest, though. Leah wasn’t anywhere near complaining. She was mildly confused, but it was a happy little surprise for her as warmth flooded her chest, another bout of pure adoration for the boy behind her at the sweet little gesture he’d done in secret.

Biting down on her lip to contain the wide grin on her face, she tapped in JJ’s ridiculous passcode (yes, it was 42069 for anyone wondering), replying to John B about extra pizza and garlic bread. A thumbs up was sent in response, leading Leah to lock the phone and toss it back beside her own where she’d found it.

Shuffling in JJ’s arms, Leah managed to gently nudge his head from her neck so she could turn herself around until she was facing him. He was still asleep, gentle little breaths escaping him. It was hard not to look at him and have her heart swell. Absentmindedly, her hand drifted up, fingers running through his hair as she silently admired him. She’d just found such a simple little thing that he’d done, but nothing was stopping her insides from melting and becoming all gooey over the boy in front of her.

That was just something so uniquely JJ, the ability to have her just become a puddle from the tiniest sweet gesture. Most of them were always unexpected — she’d been his best friend longer than she’d been his girlfriend and not once had she ever really imagined him being as soft as he was when it was just them alone, but she appreciated every second of it.

She’d looked happy and carefree in that picture on his phone and there was just a rush of emotions knowing he thought the picture was good enough to want to see it every time he went for his phone. It might have been dumb, but it made her feel pretty in a way she normally didn’t and adored in a way she’d only ever seen in fairytales or movies.

“Keep staring like that and it’s gonna cost you,” JJ mumbled suddenly, his tired voice startling her just a bit. One of his eyes was opened just a smidge, a sleepy smug grin spreading across his lips as he caught her eyeing him. “I’ll give you a discount for being hot, though.”

A laugh escaped her, eyes rolling as JJ began tugging her closer into him, head falling to her neck again as he pressed a kiss to the skin of her jaw.

“John B’s on his way home,” she whispered to him, gentle as she brushed back some of his hair from his forehead. “He’s bringing pizza.”

He paused in his ministrations, turning his head to peer up at her. “Did you tell him to get garlic knots?”

“The knots have been secured.”

An appreciative groan left him, another kiss pressed to her throat. “You’re the fucking best.”

She giggled again, happily squirming against him as he returned to kissing every spare inch of skin he could find on her neck and jawline. He was already a bit of an attention whore when they were alone, but sleepy JJ was a whole other level of cuddly and affectionate, a side of him that was reserved only for Leah.

They fell into silence, JJ still leaving little open mouth kisses on her skin, his hand drifting down to rub the exposed strip of skin between her shirt and shorts. The movement was comforting, her heart fluttering even more as she fiddled with his hair.

“J?”

“I know,” he mumbled against her neck, not stopping his movements. “No hickeys where your dad can see.”

“What? No — wait, actually yes, but that’s not what I was gonna ask ... when did you take that picture of me?”

He paused once again, although this time it seemed more like he froze against her. Leah pursed her lips together, trying her best not to laugh as he awkwardly asked, “What picture?”

Pulling herself back a bit, Leah gave him a knowing look. “The one of me on your lock screen.”

JJ groaned, eyes squeezing shut. The thing about JJ was it took a whole lot to embarrass him. He took most things in stride, letting everything roll off his back. More often than not, he was the one saying things to embarrass other people — usually Leah. Whether they were jokes or dumb innuendos, JJ was the one dishing it out and if something actually did manage to embarrass him, there was a fifty-fifty shot you wouldn’t even know.

But right now, Leah could see a rush of discomfort wash over him as he was caught red-handed being a softie. She thought it was cute.

“Kie took it a few weeks ago,” JJ replied after a moment of thought, slightly sheepish as he began fiddling with a lock of her hair. “Asked her to send it to me.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Saw her take it. I don’t know, you looked nice. Liked looking at it.”

His words were brief, but the simple thought behind it made her heart speed up again. JJ wasn’t good with words and emotions, something she knew from their years as just friends, something even he’d told her himself. He wasn’t good with words, but he was great with actions. There were hundreds of little things she could think of that were just purely JJ’s way of showing that he cared. This was one of them and while his reasoning wasn’t the most articulate, Leah’s heart felt like it was going to fucking burst.

“If it’s weird, I can change it.”

JJ’s words caught her off guard, her head shaking rapidly. “What? No, no. I don’t care. It’s sweet,” she told him. And then, almost as an afterthought, she softly added, “Makes me feel pretty.”

Even in his sleep-induced haze, eyes still not quite focused in the dim late evening sun streaming through the blinds, JJ still squinted at her in confusion. “You are pretty.”

Yup, there goes her fucking heart.

She smiled softly at him, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. Leah could feel him smile against her, his hand still twisting her hair around his finger.

They laid like that for another moment, before a smug little grin crossed Leah’s lips. “So I guess this means you’ve officially earned your simp card.”

JJ groaned at the ruined moment, rolling away from her to flop onto his back. Eyes narrowed, he firmly told her, “I am not a simp.”

“You totally fucking are,” Leah chided. Laughing, she shifted around the couch until she was sitting up. Swinging a leg over him, she promptly deposited herself in his lap, sitting on top of him while he continued to pout at her like a child. Teasingly, she added, “Looks to me like someone has a big fat crush on me.”

“I’m tossing your ass on the floor.”

“I’m sure you will,” she told him dryly, grinning as she swept her hair over one shoulder before leaning down to kiss him.

#asks #fluff prompts #mayson #seize the droid

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years

Text

My Little Secret part 11

Summary: Arthur plans a little date for you. A sweet gesture turns out to be an interesting ending.

Warnings: Some smut mention, but otherwise fluff

Faint golden light shimmered down and surrounded you. The sheets below you were silky smooth against your completely nude figure. Your eyes met his, bright blue and intense, staring hungrily at your body beneath him. His touch however was gentle, fingertips leaving goosebumps in his wake along the curves and swells of your torso.

His cool lips met yours in a tender kiss before he dipped down low, sinking further and further down before he was resting between your thighs. His hands pushed them further apart, his eyes once again meeting yours while he dipped his face to your center. The sensation to follow brought a soft moan to grace the air above you. His name curled from your tongue pleasantly as his serviced you. Your fingers carded through his smooth hair, your hips trembling in his grasp.

Your climax washed over you like a wave, enveloping every nerve in your body. He lapped at you, drawing it out until you were twitching and whining from overstimulation. He pulled himself back up to your face, his chin glistening from your fluids. He smiled and kissed you again and you willingly returned it, your essence heavy on his tongue. His hand caressed your chin, your cheek, tangling his fingers in your hair. His heavy body nearly feather-light against you, pressed to your skin. His hard muscles flexed, bringing your attention to the prominence settling between your legs.

He pulled back to meet your eyes, his expression soft and inquiring with silent words. You gave him a small nod, and he shifted oh so carefully to bring himself closer to you. The distance closed as he pushed in so smoothly, filling you up without hesitation. He whispered your name in a sultry tone it brought a flush of blood to your cheeks.

His hips shifted to pull back, readying himself to continue.

And then your eyes opened.

The sun was streaming beautifully through the blinds. You were sprawled out on your bed, though your shirt had ridden up and your hand had somehow found its way into your pajama pants. You blinked the first few seconds of bleariness and confusion away as reality formed around you. You were alone, and the fire that echoed in your core slowly ebbed away.

“Jesus…” you murmured, yanking your hand out. Your face grew hot with embarrassment. Arthur did warn you of the side effects of consuming his blood, and you certainly hoped that dream started when he was long gone. Sitting up slowly, you sighed and climbed out of bed. Last night felt like eons ago, and as strange as the evening turned out, you were glad Arthur was there to help you out.

Though it will be a while before you think about taking a trip to Saint Denis again.

The rest of the week continued on as normal. You met up with Arthur a few days later for another date, casual and straight to the point. He asked how you were feeling, and you made it a point to avoid mentioning your dream. He already knew of course, and you were saving yourself the shame of recounting what soon became a fantasy for you.

With school drawing to a close and finals looming closer, you’d made it a plan to meet with him twice a week in order to keep yourself reigned in for studying. He obliged, though would stop in at the bar a couple of times per week to entertain you on your breaks. More often than not he would wait to pick you up from work on the designated date nights, usually spending more time with you at home or taking a walk in the park.

A few more weeks passed by and you’d learned much more about him, both as an outlaw and as a vampire. You were growing more comfortable and intimate with him, and he to you. You’d always found a sense of hesitation when he showed affection, whether if it was because of what he was or just nervous and out of practice. Recently he’s become more open, not afraid to hold you close or sling an arm around you in public. He would kiss you whenever some fools would even look in your direction. You loved every second of it.

Tonight was yet another date, a Friday night that you were grateful to have it off. Your mind was on the brink of melting from the studying you’ve done over the course of the week and you were dying for a break. The sun set only a little while ago and you had an hour before Arthur would swing by. A few minutes ago he texted you to not eat, which prompted you to ponder why. While you didn’t mind going out to restaurants, it would be awkward to be out in public and the only one eating.

You cleaned yourself up and got dressed, choosing a casual outfit as you were unsure what exactly to expect. You didn’t see him spending money on anything extravagant, at least when it was still fairly early in your relationship.

You were hungry, and thankful you didn’t eat earlier in favor of spending time on more schoolwork. It would have been just a night of leftover Chinese food.

The hour passed by quickly and you were there to greet him just seconds after he knocked on your door. He looked as handsome as ever, greeting you with a smile and a kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist and held you there for a moment before stepping back.

“So, what are you surprising me with tonight?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told ya, would it?”

“Hmm, I guess not,” You replied. “Shall we leave now?”

“Ain’t you eager?” he said with amusement.

“I’m hungry. And I’m excited to see what you have planned.” You pointed out.

He smiled warmly, sliding his hand to entwine with yours. “Think you’ll like it, sweetheart. C’mon then.”

Arthur led you from your apartment and outside, where his motorcycle sat waiting. It wasn’t the first time you’d ridden on it, though each time felt like a dream. Sometimes you’d imagine it as a horse and you were riding with him back in his time, heading toward whichever exciting adventure he had planned. That daydream however you kept to yourself.

The engine roared to life and you wrapped your arms around his waist. The iron beast vibrated beneath you, rolling smoothly into the street before gaining speed. The damp air curled around you, tickling your exposed skin with moisture. Houses and buildings became a blur around you the further you traveled.

He took you toward the edge of town, the quaint buildings giving away to fields and stretches of long country roads. He wasn’t driving toward Saint Denis; rather the opposite, taking you North.

“Where are we going?” you asked, nearly shouting over the roar of the motorcycle. You however knew he was capable of hearing your voice just fine with his heightened senses.

“You’ll see.” Was all he said, the clarity in his voice sharp over the metallic growl. He’d fallen silent as the two of you continued further, hardly any other cars passing by in the quiet night. He took a left turn on a smaller street lined with charming houses surrounded by thick woods. Lights dotted the porches and windows, setting a dim golden glow amongst the darkness. Sweeping past like fireflies, blinking out as soon as they were out of your line of vision.

After a few moments, the end of the road appeared underneath a streetlight, leading out to a small parking lot. He slowed and pulled in, the tires crunching the gravel beneath as he came to a stop. The bike ceased its growl as he killed the engine and dismounted, then held his hand out for you.

As you stood up and took his hand to balance yourself from stepping away, you squinted around. You hadn’t been here before. The parking lot was surrounded by thick underbrush and what appeared to be a chain-link fence. There sat an opening that gave away to a clearing, on the far end water gleamed brightly underneath the silver moonlight. It was Flat Iron Lake.

You turned to him. “Where are we?”

His head twitched in a gesture for you to proceed. Turning your attention back toward the clearing, you made your way across the parking lot and past the fence. As the clearing opened up around you, the full picture opened to you. Aside from a couple of trees, the area was somewhat vast. The rolling green grass gave way to a small sandy shore as gentle waves lapped against the land. Further into the water were a few small islands, the trees nearly disappearing into the cobalt sky. Off to the side was a small playground and a couple of benches. A lakeside park.

“Clemens Point,” Arthur said from next to you. “My gang n’ I…we camped here for a while.”

You blinked and looked up at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “Never did like Lemoyne, but this place always was nice to look at. Watchin’ the sunset on the lake…sometimes goin’ for a swim. Glad that civilization hadn’t changed this place much.”

A smile touched your lips. “So you wanted to share this place with me?”

His smile mirrored yours, then began to walk forward. You followed him until he stopped at a tree, a large and ancient tree that cast its branches over nearly the entire clearing. He bent down to retrieve what looked like a picnic basket. You watched as he reached in and grabbed a bundle of a blanket, allowing it to unravel before he lay it on the ground. He placed the basket on the blanket, and gestured for you to sit. Moving onto the blanket you knelt down and he dug back into the basket, producing a couple of Tupperware containers and a plate for you.

“Arthur, this is so sweet,” you began. “But it’s not really fair if you can’t eat it with me.”

“Don’t matter to me none,” he responded, popping off one of the lids and you were immediately greeted by a lovely scent. “’Sides, gives me an excuse to bring you out here.”

“You could’ve done that without a picnic.” You pointed out, through your stomach rumbled loudly as he placed a piece of grilled chicken onto the plate.

“I know, but I thought it’d be borin’ jus’ sittin’ here with me.” He answered, scooping some rice and a vegetable medley next to the helping of chicken.

“That’s the opposite of boring,” You quirked an eyebrow at him. “You just told me your gang used this place as a hideout long ago. That’s not something you’d hear in a casual conversation.”

He chuckled lightly and handed the plate to you, along with utensils. “Sometimes I gotta remind myself that you don’t see me as uninterestin’ as I see myself.”

“You’re getting better at it.” You complimented before glancing down at the full plate. The savory smell wafted pleasantly. You took a bite and swallowed, your eyes widening in surprise to how great it tasted. You swallowed and added, “Arthur, did you make this yourself?”

“The kitchen in my house don’t see much use,” he explained. “‘Sit good?”

“Better than good, it’s tasty as hell,” You commented, taking another bite. The chicken was juicy and riddled with different flavors, complementing the sides nicely. “If that bounty hunter thing doesn’t work out, you could always become a chef. Put that kitchen to use.”

Arthur huffed a small laugh. “I ain’t that good, jus’ followin’ a recipe.”

“Still pretty good for someone who hasn’t eaten since 1899.” You remarked, smirking at him.

The conversation quieted down afterward as you focused more on your dinner. Arthur shifted his attention back and forth between you and the lake. He asked a question every once in a while, though polite enough to wait until you’d finished eating. You placed the now empty plate down and leaned into his embrace, watching as the water’s surface gently broke at the shore. A fish in the distance disturbed it, coming up to catch a bug. The melody of crickets and katydids surrounded the both of you.

“Some nights was peaceful, back then,” Arthur quietly mused. “Sat ‘round the campfire, listenin’ to others tells their stories. Whether good or bad, despite the law breathin’ down our necks. Those moments is somethin’ I miss.”

You cast your eyes up to him, noting the glaze of nostalgia painted in his own. “You really miss being an outlaw, huh?”

His chest expanded with a deep sigh. “More than I care to admit. Like I said before, weren’t anything glamorous. But I do miss those I called my family. Sometimes I thought it was a cruel joke that the one with the terminal illness outlived ‘em all.” He chuckled dejectedly, then met your gaze. “Ya know, out of all the questions you’ve asked, you ain’t ever asked why I Turned.”

You tilted your head in curiosity. “There’s a why? I never thought there was a reason…”

“Creatin’ a vampire takes a lot, ain’t a decision that comes lightly. So yes, there is a why,” Arthur began, smoothing his hand up and down your arm, leaving a small trail of goosebumps. “I had Tuberculosis, a death sentence back then. Knowin’ my time was limited, I did everything I could to do right. I told you ‘bout how things was fallin’ apart, how it divided us. I spent my last days makin’ sure those who mattered got out. After I led the Pinkertons away n’ fought Micah, I lay on a mountain, feelin’ my life slip away with each breath I took. Jus’ as the sun began to rise, everything went dark…until…”

He paused for a moment, tilting his head to peer up at the night sky. “Woke up covered in dirt. Thought I somehow didn’t die but got buried alive. Made my way to the surface, where I met my Maker.”

“’Met your Maker’?” you repeated. “Er, what do you mean by that?”

Arthur must’ve realized how that sounded to you, and his body vibrated with amusement. “My Maker, the vampire who Turned me. She was a young thing…barely even 20 years old when she Turned. She’s twice my age n’ three times as powerful. She watched me fight, decided I needed to stay in the world longer. Said it needed more men like me,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Didn’t believe her for a long time. Once a bad man then turned into a monster.”

“But it didn’t end up like that, did it?” you quietly mentioned.

He shook his head and smiled half-heartedly. “No. She taught me how to still be human. How to keep from turnin’ stone cold like others. She wanted me to be the man she saw on that mountaintop.”

“Seemed like it worked. You hunt down the bad guys to help others.” You pointed out, resting your hand on his knee.

“Weren’t always like that,” his smile turned wry. “First 10 years of my new existence I hated bein’ what I was. Ran off on my own a lot, Lucia – my Maker – she let me. She understood. No matter how angry I got, she was patient, but tough. Kept me under her thumb whenever I got too unruly, as fledglings tend to do. After a while I accepted myself. Stayed with her for a long time.”

You nodded in understanding, trying to wrap your head around him as a young vampire. You’d only had that one experience in Saint Denis, the mere memory sending a shiver down your spine that you tried to stifle. You instead directed your thoughts to something else. “Where is Lucia now?” you asked.

“She’s around,” Arthur answered with a cool tone. “Actually…” he shifted to straighten himself, removing his arm from around you. He instead turned to face you completely, his expression serious. “Wanted to mention somethin’ to you.”

You blinked at him. “What is it?”

He reached over and took your hands in his, holding them gently. His eyes never left yours, blue tinged silver in the moonlight. “Lucia’s…kinda my superior. Not jus’ cause she’s my Maker, but she’s also an important person in our world. Vampires may be a secret to humans, but there are some who know of our existence. Since we’re together…they wanna meet you.”

“Meet me? Why on Earth would they want to meet me?” you exasperated with a laugh of disbelief, hoping he was joking.

“To make sure you’re trustworthy with our secret,” Arthur sighed. “Somethin’ they all gotta do.”

“And what if…they don’t deem me trustworthy?” you carefully asked.

“You’ll be glamored to forget our whole existence, even me,” He answered, a touch of grim emotion flashing in his eyes. His fingers interlaced tenderly with yours. “But I ain’t worried ‘bout that. You got a good head on your shoulders.”

You smiled at his words, although your heart began to race at the mere thought of meeting these vampires. Arthur must’ve felt your pulse quicken, he rested his hand against your cheek and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” he murmured against your skin, pulling back to stare at you with earnest. “I know it sounds scary, but I promise you’ll be just fine.”

You were unsure how to respond to him. Your gaze kept even and steady with his. He was silent and waiting patiently for an answer, a sincere smile touching his lips. Anxiety bubbled deep in your stomach the more you muddled over it. Meeting a significant other’s parents was usually a serious and nerve-wracking event, and this was worse. You were to be presented to vampires, one of which was Arthur’s Maker.

In the perturbed sea of emotions, a spark of curiosity formed. It reminded you of the night Arthur revealed his secret for you. Your fear overridden by your strive to learn, and you knew it was a dangerous thought to seek. You trusted Arthur’s word, however the memories of that fledgling from Saint Denis stirred up wary thoughts. He assured you they were not all savages.

Finally, you took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, when will this meeting happen?”

“They wanted it tonight, but I argued with ‘em knowin’ you have your studies. So they’re allowin’ you to choose, as long as it’s soon.” Arthur explained, a touch of bitterness to his tone.

Tonight? Thank heavens for that. “Can we do it after my exams, then? I feel like I’m overwhelmed enough.”

He nodded. “I’ll tell ‘em that.”

You smiled in thanks, though it did nothing to calm your nerves.

#Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan #vampire Arthur #vampire AU

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soursitrus · 4 years

Text

Sticky Notes

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x reader

Description: Izu leaves you sticky notes every day before he heads to work (Sfw, Fluff, Comfort)

Words: 1K+

Hope you like it ☺️✨ ~Ollie

Warm light danced through the open curtains of your bedroom, the sunshine cascading over everything in its wake. It painted the walls a sort of isolated euphoria; a forgotten happiness trapped behind the white paint that lingered there. The brightness of it all had a vibrancy that nicely accentuated the otherwise dull room. In the almost empty bed in the corner of that very same room, yellow rays of sun decorated your figure. You wore the sunlight, the serenity of it highlighting your face in a way one could only describe as beautiful.

You were beautiful.

And yet somehow, you were blinded. That very same light that enriched the essence of your being had somehow managed to shine directly into your eyes. It dulled your once bright gaze, the stars that once lingered there nothing more than a memory. You could no longer see yourself as you were. In the dream world that everyone resided in, you were a Belle. A symbol of grace and elegance that danced in the ballroom of attraction. But in the cold reality you had somehow created for yourself, you were nothing more than a foul beast.

As if on cue, a sudden awareness of the sunshine begins to shake away your dreams, washing away the sleep that lingers under your eyelids. You shuffle underneath the sheets of your bed, body waking up much faster than the rest of you.

Soft eyelashes flutter open and a quiet yawn finds its way past your lips. You stretch, reaching out for wakefulness, and it finds you. Tired arms extend from your body. Your hands search the bed for something, or rather, someone. The very epitome of security that held you tightly while the darkness engulfed the city. While the darkness engulfed you. He was a serendipity, something unexpected that allowed a sort of reprieve from the iniquity inside your mind.

Izuku Midoriya. The man you loved dearly.

His indent on the mattress had long since disappeared from the bed due to his early departure. This had been routine for as long as you could remember. Much earlier than your body would allow, Zuku had awakened from his slumber and made his way to work. He was the number one hero after all, and that in itself was a full time gig.

Amazingly enough, he still manages to make time for you. From nights out to quiet dates in the solitude of your own home, you were astonished with his ability to squeeze you into his hectic life. Even when he was unable to physically be with you, he made sure to guard you. Be it from physical harm or from the egregious preoccupation of your own mind, Deku was always there.

Knowing insecurity plagued your daily life, each morning before he left the tender-hearted boy brought it upon himself to leave sticky notes in his wake. He would write honeyed words on colorful paper, and hide it somewhere around your shared apartment. It was a sweet gesture, really. His flattery had always left you feeling warm.

In all honesty, the hunt for his affectionate words had always managed to get you out of bed. Some days were harder than others, you could admit that, but knowing Deku had thought of you first thing when he had woken up was your usual morning motivation.

Finally, you manage to detach yourself from the comforting hold of your bed. The soles of your feet gently find the cold surface of your floor as you stand. An obligatory stretch is in order, thus marking the beginning of your day.

The clock that found purchase on your night stand informed you that it was 1:37 pm. Sleeping late wasn’t uncommon for you, yet you always felt heavy with guilt when you awoke.

You quietly made your way to the en-suite bathroom, moving carefully as though not to disturb the dust bunnies that lingered around. With just you and your boyfriend occupying the apartment, the house was almost as lifeless as you felt.

Making your way fully into the restroom, you managed to catch a glimpse of your figure stalking by the mirror. You looked awful. Hair was mangled and knotted. Dark eye bags decorated the underside of your dreary eyes. Your skin was a pasty white, giving you an almost sickly appearance. A scowl crawled onto your face as you tore your gaze away from your reflection. How could anyone find something like that beautiful?

A quiet sigh dances past your lips as you reach to turn on the shower. After waking up so late in the day, showering was the least you could do to feel as though you made an effort. Carefully, you undress and step under the stream of hot water. Even just a quick rinse lifted your mood, so on particularly exhausting days, you decided that was adequate.

After finishing up the shower, you did what you could to brush the knots out of your hair, and changed into some comfortable clothes.

Suddenly remembering the handwritten note that hid around your apartment, you decided it was time to begin the hunt.

Oftentimes, Deku would hide his sticky notes in places to serve as reminders. Once, you found one on an orange in the fridge. It was a subtle way of telling you to eat something. Another one was hidden on a shampoo bottle. Even when the hero wasn’t there with you, he was looking out for you in every way he could. Just thinking about it made your heart swell.

You first checked the living room, inspecting any place you think the note might be hidden. Unfortunately, you came up empty handed, and thus decided to continue your search elsewhere.

You checked the kitchen, the office, hell, you even checked the laundry room. The note was nowhere to be found. You wondered if you had accidentally missed it, although sometimes they were rather hard to find. Deciding to check your bedroom before giving up and waiting for him to get home, you casually wandered to your destination.

Of course, it was in there. The bright orange piece of paper was hung on the large mirror in the corner of the room, opposite your bed. You had been avoiding mirrors most of the day, and hadn’t bothered to check here. You smiled, giddy that you had finally found it. The desk the mirror stood on also held a small box with your initials carved into it. Deku had gotten it for you on christmas, and you kept every note he ever wrote for you inside of it. A smile graced your glowing features as you made your way over to the note.

“I love everything about you. From the top of your head, to the soles of your feet, you are perfect. Even if you don’t think so, you are worth the world, and I hope I can spend an eternity with you. Maybe even longer. I miss you, my love, and I hope your day is as amazing as I know you are.”

Having felt particularly awful that morning, his words took hold of your heart and gave you a reassuring squeeze. You could feel hot tears building up in your eyes, threatning to spill over. He always knew what to say to you to make you feel better. Gently setting the note down, you pull the box of older inscriptions close to you, deciding to reread them before going about the rest of your day.

•••

“Y/N? I’m home!” Izuku calls out from the front door, taking off his shoes before fully entering the house. You stand and bolt from your spot on the couch almost immediately, desperate to see him. As soon as he’s within your reach, you tackle him into a hug.

“Woah hey, someone’s excited.” he teases.

“I missed you. And I wanted to say thank you.” You smile, holding him tightly.

“Thank you? for what?”

“The note. I needed it today.” The boy smiles bashfully and looks at you with bright eyes.

“Of course. I’m glad I’m able to help you.” He kissses you on the cheek before picking you up encouraging you to wrap your legs around his torso. You do so, nuzzling your face into his neck and relishing in his warmth. What did you do to deserve him?

“Let’s go watch that show you like so much, yeah? I can order take-out?” He offers, beggining his journey towards the living room. You smile.

“That sounds amazing.”

“You’re amazing.” You pull away from him as he sits down, allowing you to see his face.

“I love you,” you say. “Lots.”

“I love you too.” He leans in and gives you a gentle kiss. “Now let’s get this party started.”

With warmth in your heart and a smile on your face, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s surprises.

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #bnha deku #mha deku #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #deku #deku x reader #deku fanfic #fluff #deku fluff

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kazbrkker · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10: The Price of War

Chapter summary: The events of Highway of Death told from Alex's perspective. Alexis' real name is finally uncovered, and one of her captors' identity is also revealed. (3327 words)

Warnings: Hadir's betrayal, character death, flashbacks of almost death.

"Come on, stay with me!" an unfamiliar voice bounced around her head.

Was Alexis dreaming again?

Alexis was definitely dreaming again. Which was how she knew this was reality. Because she knew when she balanced over the thin line between life and death, she would dream. Sometimes she dreamt of hungover mornings and coffee runs with Maddox and the crew, inhumane circuit laps with Mactavish and Price, or the countless times Alex talked her ears off with the desire for another tattoo.

The pain that ached all over her body, accompanied by the abnormal brush of coldness told her it was time. Time to meet your maker.

She heard this joke once, and this sure as hell was the punchline.

"...keep squeezing... hand–"

Hadir? Was... was she really dreaming? This couldn't be real.

Worse were the dreams conjured by fear. The ones that took her right back to St.Petersburg to stare down the shimmering flames. The feeling of raw flesh after endless interrogations. And the reminder of wearing her blood like a second skin. It was she never left that tiny jail cell.

Alexis remembered the crackling of the flames. It was all that filled her ears. Her captors were missing. She was in the middle of nowhere.

The fire blazed a slow path straight for her like she was the final goal to reach. It tore down wooden crates, engulfed the flimsy curtains and went straight for her. Like the fire had a mind of its own and knew it wanted her.

This was it, the end of her legacy. Her stories were etched in flesh, and her book would be the grey stone in Arlington.

The salty tears streaming down her bruised eyes should have hurt, but didn't. The roaring fire snuffed out most of the oxygen and thinned the air. Her head was growing heavier by the seconds, eventually resting it against the grimy walls.

There are worse ways to go, she tried convincing herself.

When she started to drift away, she summoned enough energy to raise a fingertip over the wall—finding her name carved into the stones. Her real name.

Maybe, hopefully, somebody would remember her.

Her dreams manifested into her sleep over time. When she dreamt of St.Petersburg, she'd wake up with her mouth gaped wipe, like she paused mid-scream. Her fingers would tremble and she'd force herself to give in to her shaking legs and remain seated. She'd whisper to herself that it was only a dream. It'll stop.

Until it didn't.

Today, with her back on the ground, eyes rolled back, Alexis dreamt again.

The worst wasn't knowing she was going to die—that was the price of war. She had long made peace with the Grim Reaper. It was knowing she finally had something to live for.

Maybe this time her dream wouldn't stop.

━━━━━━

FIVE HOURS EARLIER:

29 October 2019, 0730 "Alex" CIA with Urzik militia Darus, Urzikstan

Alex hopped off the truck, inwardly expressing gratitude that after hours, they'd finally arrived at their destination. Though the aura of a village filled with rubble and dust in its silence put him off.

Ribbons of the early sun had already splashed across cerulean blue canvas. Behind him, Alexis blew a low whistle. He turned around to discover her standing in the middle of the elevated road—looking heavenward.

"What a view. Exactly the one I pictured–" Alexis marvelled.

Alia stopped her, "You picture your death?"

"Of course. You'd be surprised how disappointing death can be."

Alex kept a blank face despite feeling his heart drop. Apparently his cold shoulder treatment was starting to draw attention—evident when Farah arched an inquisitive brow beside him.

He returned with a shrug, still nursing his anger. He was pissed to be kept in the dark about Alexis' mysterious call. Her standoffish behaviour was from an all too familiar playbook that Alexis always operated out of—the masterful art of dodging.

It was exactly what happened after St.Petersburg. Which was why Alex had to intervene before it took a turn for the worse.

"You're out of it. Anything I should know?"

"What should you know?"

Answer a question with a question.

"If you want to lie to my face, go ahead. But I won't stand here and pretend to believe you."

"For CIA, you have no idea how to deal with women." Farah nudged him up the flight of stairs.

Only then did Alex realised he was spacing out. Although that couldn't stop him from thinking about how the early sun practically bathed Alexis with a halo. "Or... I know exactly what I'm doing," he smirked, climbing two steps at a time.

Farah smacked his arm, "Ah, don't play the game, play the man. I believe that's what you Americans call it." In combat, Farah was all expressionless and cold, but when the commander was out of the field, sometimes she allowed a certain amount of lightness to grace her smiles. They bumped fists with a knowing grin.

"Zip it," behind them, Alexis knocked Alia's head loudly, "Don't even think about dying."

"They'll have their hands full with her up there," Farah mused.

He heard Alia's terrible attempt at whispering—asking Alexis what he pictured for his deathbed. The cunning young lady certainly deserved an ovation. In more ways than one, Alia really was the splitting image of a young Alexis. Another loud whisper came from the young girl. "What do you mean he's not angry! You must be blind."

Alex recalled that one particular vacation in Bali that birthed this conversation. Just the two of them laying on the beach, free of woes and war. Three years felt like a lifetime ago.

"Throw me out of a helicopter, shoot me out a canon. I want my corpse to rain from the sky."

"Go out with a bang?" Alexis sipped on her frozen margarita, laying on a beach chair unbothered by the world. "That is very you."

Surely that sounded like an exaggeration. But if Alex had it his way, he would. Unfortunately, there was already a plot in Arlington reserved for him.

"Something like a sky burial," Alexis answered for him. Flashes of her chocolate hair loose on her shoulders and sunburnt cheeks left his mind. Alex felt her eyes burn into his back. "He's... weird."

"I heard that."

Several wobbly ledges later, they reached the vantage point that overlooked the highway, Hadir passed them two custom made sniper rifles. A larger than usual smile appeared on Alexis as she geeked at the custom rifle. It was almost comical—her jumping around while donning a ridiculous head gauze. While Hadir's impressive rifle put her in a good mood, Alex suspected it was Hadir, Farah and Alia responsible for this lighter shell of Alex.

He missed this version of her—not haunted by demons of her past. Trust it to be Urzikstan to draw out this side of her again. He'd do anything to make this Alexis stay.

"I'd watch that recoil, Lexi."

Alexis flashed a smile, pushing past him, "And I'd worry about your shots, babe. Trajectory is a bastard in this wind."

He set into a prone position right beside her, getting into tune with the new rifle. Then, Alexis cleared her throat loudly, winking into her sniper scope.

"Say, this cold shoulder treatment is getting a little old..."

A second later, she fired a clean shot into a watermelon 600 yards away. Hadir rejoiced in his native language, "Your fruit killing skills are remarkable, Alexis!"

"Don't I know it," Alexis winked. He sensed her scheming face before she even wore it, "Alex, since we're out here swatting flies, what do you say to a friendly competition?"

That interested him, "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she shrugged. "One minute. Whoever shoots the most is the winner. And the loser..." There was a glint in her eyes, "Has to do anything the winner says."

His eyes landed briefly on her grinning lips before he agreed.

The playing field was set: plastic bottles, some rotten fruits and crates. His index finger rested snuggly on the trigger, head lowered to dial into the scope.

"Okay! One minute starts..." Farah paused, "Now!"

Pulling the trigger was an unconscious effort by now, a steady exhale later and in between heartbeats, he fired. Right off the bat, he shot through one plastic bottle nested across the highway. Beside him, Alexis missed her shot, mumbling about how the recoil was too strong.

"Is the prize not enticing enough?" he mused, aiming for his second trophy.

"Only if you lose," her airy laughter made it hard to suppress another smile.

Within fifty seconds, it was a tie. It came down to the final plastic bottle. It was difficult to line a shot with the sun glaring right at him. Still, Alex kept his shoulders levelled and spoke with confidence, "Any last words?"

"You first."

Exhale.

Shoot.

Heart hammering in his chest, they watched collectively as the single bullet tore through the plastic bottle, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

"And that's how it's done!"

Alex tilted back to reach Hadir's high-fives. "My brother, your biggest fan," Farah smiled.

For someone who lost a bet, she didn't play the role. With a charming smile, Alexis' fingers snaked the curve of his wrist. Alex pretended she didn't just jolt him awake with a simple touch, "So. What am I supposed to do?"

"I know just the thing," a brash grin slipped back onto Alex's face, thinking how he had more luck than skills. Or maybe it was an added motivator.

━━━━━━

Everything went wrong quick and fast.

When Price radioed with news, they expected the Wolf to scramble their way. What they didn't expect was Barkov's company.

Alexis split from the group, taking main overwatch at the next building beside them. Her injuries worried him. But their promise to inexplicably trust each other in the field triumphed his concerns. An enemy sniper across the highway was picking Farah's army off one by one. And Alexis... "Dropped his ass!"

That's my girl.

Winking into his own scope, he burst the tires off a suicide truck with a single shot. The one upside about this shit show was that Barkov's army helped clean up the Wolf's men for them.

He dodged back into cover just in time when a bullet whizzed past him. Shit, they found him. Farah panicked, "We need help! Where is Captain Price?"

"Won't make it in time! We need a Hail Mary for these fuckers!" Alexis shouted over the crossfire.

He spared a quick glance to check on her. In the blinding sunlight, her hair turned into a colour that reminded him of bitter tea. Several stray pieces of hair stuck against her sweaty neck. Alexis was still holding her weight, but it was obvious she was growing weary.

But no amount of energy could change the fact that they'd be boxed in by the enemies soon. And Farah and Hadir had too much honour in their cause to retreat. Alexis was right, they needed an ultimatum.

"I've got more firepower in the truck! Alexis, cover us! And Alex, follow me!" Hadir nudged him. Alex left the rifle at his nest and dropped down the ladder to follow Hadir.

"Hadir! Please tell me you have a big enough stone!" Alexis yelled past the gunfires.

"The biggest, sister! They won't know what hit them!" He followed Hadir in and out of different houses.

Without warning, a spray of bullets burst through the battlefield. Alex didn't think much of it until Farah yelled Alexis' name in a state of manic. His first instinct was to charge back in their direction, but Hadir kept a death grip on his forearm, reminding him they only had a small window to make this work.

This better fucking work, Alex thought. Dying on the Highway of Death would be too prophetic.

"My truck is full of explosives, very powerful explosives, it's time to use them! Open the tailgate, quickly! I'll cover us! Open it, Alex!"

The truck held canisters of– "Russian gas?" The entire time Alexis and he spent looking for leads of the stolen gas...

Hadir stole them?

"Yes! And now we send it back to them!"

It was too late. The tremors of an explosion, the screamings. They were lucky not to be swept in the explosion radius, but from the green gas that now terrorised the air, that was the least of Alex's worries. Soldiers irregardless friend or foe, doubled over to cough their lungs out. Blood sprayed ruthlessly in the air before they collapsed.

"You said we needed a big enough stone. This is it, Alexis!"

"No... No no no! Not like this–" Her sentence cut off.

Alex was on autopilot at this point, blindly following Hadir back into a house. Only Farah yelled through the comms, but it was radio silence from Alexis.

Please be okay. Although the raw coughs outside the bunker made him feel foolish for harbouring hope.

The gas worked quick, already blurring his vision. His head spun wildly and his throat scratched. The deadweight of his combat vest alone was enough to make him flop like a raggedy doll. His weakness fed his panic. Alex held onto the bunker's walls with every bit of strength still inside him.

Alexis, he recited over and over again. Alexandra Ward.

Bring her home.

Find her. Find her. Find her.

If Alex hoped the incantation could hold power for him, he was greatly mistaken. One step forward, he crumpled down the floor like an abandoned puppet.

"Hadir–" Alex's vision floated in and out, unable to see Hadir. He briefly registered a new weight over his face. A gas mask. Alex slurred through his words, "Alexis... Find..."

He fought against losing consciousness, not knowing when Farah ended up in the bunker, but only knew she was alone. "Alexis!" he weakly tried their comms again.

Fuck, stay the fuck awake. Not like this.

He channelled all the remaining energy he had, however little. He didn't stop, not even when his breathing slowed, his vision now appearing in phases, or his urge to vomit his guts out. Frantic, he reached for anything he could get his hands on–

His fingers flexed, not even able to feel the texture of leather of his gloves. All he could do was that, and blink to keep himself awake. Hadir was mumbling incoherently about something, not wearing even an ounce of regret from the mere silvers of sight Alex peeked through.

Hadir ran out the door like a coward. Some part of him prayed for the shred of Hadir's humanity to find Alexis.

Alex swore he saw the sun outside melt away, turning his world blue in twilight. His last thoughts were about a certain Bali sky.

━━━━━━

The buzzing of a helicopter shocked him awake. Alex shot up immediately, realising they were still in the bunker. It was deadly quiet, too quiet. Then he realised it was just his blocked hearing.

His world still swirled on its own axis when Price and Kyle came running in. Staring blankly when Price shouted something he didn't understand.

Alexis. The fog in his brain cleared. He kneeled his way over to the unconscious women who laid beside him. Using all his might, he propped her into his lap, fear-stricken when blood stained his hands.

Where did that come from? He hurriedly wiped the molten blood off her head, finding the opened stitches to be the root source.

"Holy shit, captain," Kyle deadpanned, a face full of dread, "This is bad."

Price wasted no time before scooping Alexis up and away to the helicopter.

Alex was thankful for Price who supported the weight he most definitely couldn't: the weight of Alexis dying in his arms.

━━━━━━

It must have been only a few hours of solitude Alex had since they returned to base. Laswell sent all of them to medical immediately—and Alex answered with a clean bill of health. He might be out of the woods, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

An unmistakable voice roared outside his ward, followed by someone yelling. He cursed loudly when his eyes snapped open. Did everything have to be white and smell of ammonia?

When his door swung open, he immediately shoved his trembling hands into the sanctuary of the hospital gown's pockets. In his doorway, his glazy vision told him someone was propped up by two other figures. Once his vision finally registered who she was, he bolted over. Much like him, she had an IV drip in toll.

Alex caught her by the waist when she faltered. "Farah," he gave her a once-over, "They cleared you?"

The commander nodded, stepping into his room with feeble steps. Although Alex suspected Farah's ashen face wasn't the result of the toxic gas. He passed her the tray of hot porridge that sat idly on his table.

His hands dropped when Farah eyed it in concern. He cleared his throat, jerking his head to the tray. As expected, Farah rejected it too.

"I'm sorry, Farah," he started, tracing the IV needle embedded in his forearm. For strange reasons, it calmed him. "Hadir..."

"Is my brother," Farah said sharply, "I should have known..." Alex rushed to her defence, but Farah raised her voice in both sadness and anger, "No Alex, I should have known. It is my job as his sister. Hadir was losing faith in the militia, but I pretended not to see it."

Alex averted his sight away. Unsure what to say to comfort Farah. He couldn't begin to understand, nor did he want to pretend he could. Farah rubbed an exasperated hand over her face, "Hadir killed most of my men. And..." Her voice wavered, eyes shining brighter under the blinding fluorescent lights.

"Alia," he said on her behalf.

How did everything go sideways so fast? Five hours ago, all of them were squeezed in the back of a truck, wind in their hair and laughter in their words. Alexis had promised Alia to a hamburger after this shitty war passed, because the war-torn girl had never seen one, let alone tasted one.

"Hadir will pay." Again, Alex remained silent. What could be worse than hunting your own brother? "And if Alexis... doesn't make it..."

Alex sighed, still rubbing circles around his IV. Farah's words all but gutted him.

Alexis tried going back for Alia, which prolonged her exposure. Her open wounds sent her condition from dangerous to life-threatening. The ringing in Alex's ears was so loud but he managed to hear something about chlorine poisoning.

Alex tiredly pressed his palm against his eyes, trying to force the memory of Alexis' rigid body out of his mind but only received another vision of her intubated with an oxygen ventilator. "The Cipro and antitoxin are a wild shot. They're more worried about the fluid in her lungs."

To Alex's surprise, Farah picked up the bowl of porridge to eat. The smallest of smiles tugged across her lips and somehow it made Alex feel much better. "I have no doubt she'll wake in a few hours. She's a tough one."

Alex remained silent.

"Maybe we should try dangling that forsaken ration pack she loves," Farah tried to joke, but her tone felt otherwise. A few seconds later, she continued, "Alexis survived worse. She will pull through."

Was Farah talking about St.Petersburg? It almost slipped his mind that she was the reason for Alexis' safe return. Well, her and... Hadir.

Hadir's betrayal would break Alexis... If Alia's death wouldn't.

Maybe guilt encouraged Farah to supplement the gaps in Alex's understanding, but she explained everything. From the burning house, Alexis' threatening to leave, to how she delivered Alexis safely to St.Petersburg. Whatever Alex knew was from the mission report, the gruesome details blacked out for clearance. The way she described Alexis' injuries induced nausea in him again.

But something else Farah said intrigued him. "A few weeks after Alexis left, the mercenaries returned to Urzikstan. Demanding blood for the American, they said."

Alex leaned out of his chair upon hearing this. It was a piece of the puzzle the rescue task force was couldn't collect. Even the joint task force of JSOC, CIA and SAS ran up cold leads as to who was behind the kidnapping.

"One of the men mentioned a name, Gaia."

‧͙⁺˚*·༓

a/n: alexandra... ward!!!!!!! her name is strictly need-to-know so we gotta thank alex for his pov lmao. & i'm pretty sure her injury counter is through the roof rn. but cheers to me for beating up my characters lol.

alia though... i'm absolutely gutted over this.

taglist: @shigarakiluvbot @wanderlustgiant @captain-pikas-world (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

#call of duty x oc #call of duty x reader #alex modern warfare #alex cod #echo 3-1 #john price #captain price #kyle garrick #farah karim #hadir karim #kate laswell #oc: alexis #ysrwrites: kl #killer instinct #modern warfare #fanfiction

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stellar-alley · 4 years

Text

Of Scales and Sea Glass

•Chapter 1•

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(Summary: Eddie deals with the anniversary of his parent's death. After an intense tropical storm, he discovers something has washed up in his pool.)

Also shout out to @ambitiousskychild on tumblr for being my beta!

It’s just water. You’ll be fine God, why do you always worry so damn much?

“FUCK” Eddie groaned as he raked his hand through his hair. “Fuck…” He repeated, letting his voice trail off this time.

It’s been a year, you should be over this by now .

Sure it might’ve been a year, but that didn’t mean Eddie Kaspbrak was any less terrified of the ocean. Its endless blue and unexplored depths made Eddie want to be anywhere else. It didn’t help that the ocean was literally in Eddie’s backyard. All that he needed to know was that exactly one year ago today, that blue, those depths, took his parent’s lives, and that was enough to scare the boy shitless. Only now, on the anniversary of Sonia and Frank Kaspbrak’s death, did he finally decide to do something about it.

Eddie stood about 50 feet away from his back porch, his feet in the sand and a towel wrapped over his shoulders. He watched the waves fall and crash over the sand. Tonight the weathermen were calling for a killer storm, which seemed oddly appropriate in the boy’s head. It was almost like his mother was giving him a sign. It was like her way of saying “Eddie-bear, go back inside! The world is dangerous, so stay in your room!” because that’s what she did.

For most of Eddie’s life, he was fed placebos, convinced he had asthma, and practically forced to be straight. It was all his mother’s doings. Ever since her death Eddie has come to terms with all of his fake illnesses, he’s even been able to come out to his friends! Of course, they all accepted him and helped him whenever he needed it. He was really grateful for the losers he called his friends.

Lighting struck in the distance, it sent a flash of light over Eddie’s face that caused him to shrink into his towel. The dark clouds that loomed overhead only caused Eddie’s heart to beat harder inside his ribcage.

Thunder cackled soon after. Eddie’s eyes teared up as he looked up and into the waves, “I-I’m sorry,” He choked, barely able to get the words out.

Eddie shuffled back into his oceanside house before the rain started, which was good cause when it rained, it poured. The first thing he did when he got inside was close all of the blinds, unable to look out into his backyard without his stomach-turning, the guilt was practically eating away at him. The last thing he saw as he closed the blinds were his pool, the water reflected the dark clouds that loomed overhead, creating a haunting atmosphere.

The realization caused Eddie to sigh, “That’s gonna be a pain in my ass to clean.” Storms like these always brought the most random crap up from the bottom of the ocean, somehow all of it always ended up in Eddie’s pool. He didn’t even want the pool, he lived so close to the ocean, it was kinda useless. Well, aside from the days when it was too cold to swim in the ocean , that’s when he’d usually heat the pool up and swim in there instead. That was when he still swam. Now he hasn’t used that thing in well over a year.

After Sonia and Frank passed, The Kaspbrak’s residence was passed down to their only child, Eddie. That house included an underground pool, a house way too big for one person, and an almost private beach that only he and his next door neighbours had access to. (His neighbours on the left never used it though. They were an elderly couple. Sometimes he’d find them sitting outside on the warm days, but they weren’t the outdoor type. His neighbours on the right had their yard fenced off). Eddie never used the pool but kept it clean for the days when his friends came over. They'd go swimming while he read in the shade.

That night Eddie slept with his ear buds in, music on loud and the covers pulled over his head. He hated how scared he was of the water. He missed the way the waves made him feel. It was something he's never felt before, when he swam he was safe, and free. He's tried to overcome it, but nothing has worked. He'd need a miracle to convince him to get back into the water.

Eddie woke up the next morning to the early morning sunlight streaming in through the cracks of his blinds. He mentally cursed out God for creating the sun before he turned over and shoved his face deeper into his pillow. After about 20 more minutes of internal complaining, Eddie finally dragged himself out of bed. His head was waterlogged, hazed by sleep. So when he opened the blinds to his back doors all he saw was a mass of sea shit that now crowded his pool. Instead of focusing on exactly what had washed up onto his property, he simply rolled his eyes and went to go back to breakfast.

Eddie checked his phone, hoping it’d wake his mind up a little but he sighed as he realized he didn’t have any wifi. His realization brought a thought to the forefront of his mind. “Oh no…. No, no, no,” Eddie mumbled as he padded over towards the nearest light switch. “Fuck,” He leaned his head up against the wall when the lights didn’t turn on. This was something else that happened a lot when they were hit by a storm, the power goes out.

After breakfast, Eddie got changed out of his pyjamas. He opted to put on an older black tee as he knew he’d be cleaning today. He pulled his iconic red shorts on and slipped on a pair of sneakers. He gathered up all of the cleaning supplies he had set aside for storms like these and set them out on his back porch.

The morning air smelled of rain and salt. The temperature had dropped a couple of degrees from the previous day, which was refreshing, but it didn’t change the fact that Eddie had a whole yard to clean.

First, he swept off the porch. He pushed all of the twigs, branches and sand onto the ground below. He noticed one of his neighbour’s palm trees had several fallen branches. That would explain the countless leaves that were scattered across his yard and filled his pool.

After, he collected as much of the debris from the lawn as he could. Stuffing everything into garbage bags, tying them up, then carrying them to his front yard, where they’d sit until garbage day. Once he was in his front yard, he looked around at his neighbour’s lawns and saw they were all going through the same hell that he was. Everyone was out with garbage bins and shovels, cleaning up the mess the storm left behind.

“EDDIE! HEY!” A voice called out to him.

Eddie turned towards the voice and saw his neighbour to the right, Beverly Marsh. He was one of the lucky kids who conveniently lived beside one of his best friends. While the rest of their Losers Club lived no more than 20 minutes away, Bev and Eddie lived the closest, which made it easy for the group to meet up. Even if their meetups almost always ended up at Eddie’s house.

When his mother was alive, she rarely let all of them come over, but now that she was gone, most of their summer break was spent in Eddie’s backyard, in the pool, on the beach, or in his basement watching movies. Eddie didn’t mind, he enjoyed the company. Especially since living alone got, well, lonely. So he made sure to soak up every moment he could get with his Losers.

Eddie’s resting bitch face was washed out and replaced by a genuinely happy smile. “Marsh! How’s it hanging?” Eddie said in his best surfer bro voice.

“It’s totally tubular,” She said, followed by a laugh. “How’s your place? No power?” She asked as she put down the bag she was holding and crossed her yard and onto Eddie’s.

“Yeah, and my yard is a fucking mess. Don’t even get me started on the pool,” Eddie groaned at the thought.

A smug smile spread over Beverly’s lips, “It’s the days like these when I’m grateful I don’t have a pool. Can’t you just get the pool guys to come and clean it?” She questions.

“I would but it’d cost me an arm and a leg. I’m just gonna clean then get someone to refill it. It’ll be fine,” He sighed. Eddie was gonna ask if she wanted to help but he lost his chance when Beverly’s aunt came outside.

“Beverly! Oh, Hi Eddie. How are you doing?” She smiled at him. Beverly’s aunt Katherine was always nice to Eddie, she always helped him whenever he needed it, cooking meals and helping with bills. She was pretty great.

“As good as I can be after a storm like this, crazy isn’t it?” He nods his head.

“It really is, on that note, Bev, we should be getting back to work,” She said as Bev nodded.

“I’ll see you later Eddie. Let me know if you get ahold of the rest of our rat pack, alright?” She winked as she slowly began to back away.

“Yes ma’am!” Eddie saluted and returned to the backyard.

He sighed. “No better time than the present, am I right?” He asked himself as he picked up the big net that was propped against the porch, then walked towards the pool.

The water had turned a dark green-grey. It didn’t smell too bad, which was a blessing as Eddie has a sensitive stomach and wasn’t in the mood of adding barf to his list of things to clean. He swept the net over the surface of the water for a couple minutes before noticing how there were a lot bigger pieces of debris than he had realized.

Looks like we gotta break out the big guns , Eddie left the net on the side of the pool and went to grab some rubber gloves and one of his big grey garbage cans. He stood at the edge of the pool and stared down at the water below him. It was different when he had the net, he barely had to lean over the edge, but now he was worried about falling in. What if I lean in, fall, and drown, or get knocked unconscious and die? Eddie calmed his breathing down before it got a chance to pick up.

“Okay, Eddie, you’re fine,” He let out a shaky breath. He ended up laying down on the pavement, flat on his stomach and stuck his arms over the edge, not daring to let anything below his neck hang over the edge of the pool. Slowly but surely he dragged most of the debris out and onto the pavement, which would then be put into the garbage, but right now he just needed to get everything out of the pool. Amongst the trash and green life he found in the water, he also fished out a pair of glasses, although they didn’t seem like normal glasses. First off, they were pretty big, but the lenses seemed oddly fogged and thick. Reminding Eddie of the sea glass he’s collected over the years of living on the coast. He set them aside and made a note to investigate them further once he was done here.

After a couple of hours of hard work, Eddie stood over the pool and admired all of his hard work. Sure there was still a bunch of shit at the bottom of the pool, but he agreed to clean that out once the pool had been emptied. There had been a particular pile of debris off in the corner that caught Eddie’s eye. It seemed to be a pile-up of plants and what looked to be a fishing net. He walked over to that side of the pool and squinted down at the trash. Something was dimly shining beneath the pile of soggy algae that covered it.

Maybe a fish got washed into the pool? Hm, poor dude, Eddie shrugged, about to walk away when the pile twitched ever so slightly, Eddie could have convinced himself he was seeing things, but something was telling him he wasn’t. Determined to see what it was, Eddie quickly grabbed the net and poked the pile of debris. He shied away after the first poke, then moved to poke it again. It twitched again. Eddie’s brow furrowed as he poked it again, a little harder this time. This time it shifted positions, allowing Eddie to see a little bit more of the creature that sat at the bottom of his pool.

The shine came from scales, and there were a lot of them. How big is this fucking fish? Oh shit- do I have a shark in my pool?! No dumbass, sharks don’t have scales…

Instead of poking it again, Eddie used the butt end of the net to try to move the debris off of the creature. He was able to push most of the algae aside, but the creature must’ve been tangled up in that damned net. The creature might not have been 100% visible, but he had a better view of it now.

“Is that? No way…” Eddie began to speak to himself as he examined the creature. “That can’t be...” He said as he examined the part of the creature that looked like it had hair. Well whatever it had that looked like hair, it was inky black, it slowly swayed around- A HEAD? “WHAT THE FUCK!” Eddie shrieked as he began to stumble backwards. He stammered and wobbled. But suddenly, one of the bricks that lined the pool gave out beneath him, and he fell forwards. He fell into the pool with a big splash.

He didn’t even have time to think, his mind was overtaken by panic. Eddie thrashed and splashed, he tried to pull himself to the surface but the water was blurring his vision, making it impossible to tell which way was up. He barely had time to take in any air as he was randomly tossed into the pool. So his lungs ached and his head throbbed. He wanted to scream out for help or stop moving just for a second, in hopes that’d he just float to the surface. But he couldn’t stop, his legs kicked wildly in the water, his shoes heavy on his feet and his clothes constricting his movement.

He was too busy thinking about his own death to notice the pair of arms that’d wrapped around his waist. Eddie’s lungs began to burn , they begged for air, but Eddie knew that he was not going to let his mouth open. He refused to die the same death that his parents had. With that, his vision began to blur more than it already was. His mind hazed over and his thrashing minimized. His vision was dotted with black spots, due to lack of oxygen.

I’m gonna die .

Suddenly he was gasping for air. His lungs heaved as he spat up water and tried to breathe in as much air as he could. He rubbed the water out of his eyes. It took a moment for his gaze to clear, but once he did he realized he was sitting on the edge of the pool, his clothes soaked and his hair filled with leaves and dirt.

What the fuck happened? How did I get here? The questions overloaded Eddie’s mind as his breathing quickened, there was so much going on, too much .

The water beside him splashed, a light spray of water settled on him. He hesitantly looked over, hoping to see nothing, that he had dreamt it all up. But when he turned his head, he saw something drifting slowly towards him in the water. He hadn’t failed to notice how murkey the water had gotten. It’s green tinge now brown, and a little red. He didn’t even let himself think about what made it red. Eddie panicked and jackknifed, hastily shuffling backwards and away from the water.

Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers, his eyebrows practically in his hairline. His breathing practically stopped as he watched the black hair he’d seen previously slowly poke up out of the water. Eddie wanted to get up and run, call the cops, something , but he couldn’t. He was frozen in fear and anticipation. He couldn’t help that little bit of wonder that filled his head as the creature continued to come up from the waters’ surface.

He watched as the head moved up just enough to reveal a pair of impossibly blue eyes. They stared back at him, partially covered by the black hair hanging in its face. Something about the eyes seemed hazy, almost as if they weren’t clear, they squinted for a moment before opening up wide again.

Eddie could only muster a weak “hi,” as he stared at the creature before him. The blue eyes rolled and bubbles erupted in front of him. The head sunk back down into the water.

A splash caused Eddie to tear his eyes away from where the head once was, and look up. Further down in the pool he watched as a fish like tail splashed against the surface of the water. Half of its fin was covered in the fishing net. The rope digging into the scales. Eddie finally saw what was the cause of the red in the water. The net had various hooks still attached to it. They dug into the scales of the tail, causing it to leak red blood. Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The tail splashed against the surface of the water again. It acted as a reality check for Eddie as he finally mustered the strength to stand up. Once he was on his feet, he wobbled momentarily before marching towards his porch. He didn’t look back as he closed his patio door. He kept walking until he was in his bathroom.

He turned on the shower and waited until it filled the small room with steam. The boiling water practically burned all the dirt off of his skin. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to even realize he began thinking out loud.

“There’s someone in my pool,” He started, his voice distant, “And a fish. A massive fucking fish.” He thought about the mess of hair he’d seen at the bottom of the pool. “No one can survive being underwater that long… No one, but not nothing.”

What if it wasn’t two things in my pool…

He contemplated the idea for a second, “BUT THEY DON’T EXIST!” Eddie shouted in frustration, thrusting his fist against the ceramic wall of his shower. So many ideas floated through Eddie’s head, he hated it, he hated not knowing what was in his pool. And he hated the fact that the only idea that made semi sense, was that he had a fucking mermaid in his pool.

“But they’re made-up. Stories, fairytailes. Not real life, ” He countered, recalling movies like The Little Mermaid and Aquamarine. “But what else explains the tail?” He asked himself in defeat.

Eddie turned the water to the shower off. His skin was red and raw, he could practically see the steam coming off of himself. He rested his forehead against the wall of his shower and tried to clear his head. In and out… In and out , he reminded himself as he took a couple minutes to just breathe .

After the hurricane in his head finally calmed down, he allowed himself to think back to what he’d seen outside. Careful to not open the dam of memories, he focused on the tail, the head, the water, the blood .

The poor thing is hurt , Eddie sharply inhaled. “Shit…” He recalled the net, and how it dug into the creature's tail. He shivered at the thought of what it must be going through. Then he remembered why he took the shower in the first place, he fell into the pool, and that fish thing, it saved him.

With a new game plan, Eddie finished up in the bathroom, got dressed, then got his fist aid kit and all the other supplies he needed. He went back outside, the sun beating down over his head as he stood on his patio and surveyed his backyard. A new level of determination filled the human. He was intrigued to find out what the hell was in his pool, and this was the best way he could find that out.

He marched down and to the water’s edge, but all the bravery he had mustered died the moment he saw the creature floating on its front at the edge of Eddie’s pool.

He raised his hands to cover his mouth, his eyes wide, “Fuck,” he cursed. His mind automatically assumed the worst, death . But he tried to mentally assure himself that it had just passed out as he didn’t want to panic.

Eddie got down on his knees and carefully leaned over to grab the creature. He held his breath, worried about falling in, but he was able to pull the creature to the edge of the pool. He pushed it over onto its back. He wanted to inspect its face and features but Eddie needed to get him out of the water before those cuts got infected.

Quickly, Eddie laid a towel down on the pavement beside the pool, worried about what the heat of the ground would do to the fish’s scales. When it came time to pulling the thing out of the water, he hadn’t thought about how much that fucking tale would weigh. He hooked his arms under the arms of the creature and tried to pull him out. He heaved and tugged.

“Holy shit- you’re so fucking heavy,” Eddie gasped, half way there , he thought to himself. All of the human part was out, and half of the tail, now all he had left was the rest of the tail and the monofin. Eddie took in one sharp inhale before he pulled the rest of it out in one final tug. He gasped as he suddenly landed on his back, the fish flopped down onto the towel beside him.

Eddie didn’t take too long to recover, he was too interested in seeing what exactly he had just fished out of his swimming pool. He sat on his knees and surveyed the creature that laid uncious before him.

It was indeed, a mermaid.

The upper half of its body was made of pasty white skin, as smooth as a shark's skin. It shined in the afternoon sunlight. Its arms were long and fairly skinny with a little muscles. Eddie carefully lifted up one of its hands. He inspected it, noticing how there was an almost translucent webbing that connected his long and bony fingers. Then he let out a small gasp at the claws that laid at the edges of his fingers. They looked sharp, one swipe would surely draw blood. With that, he carefully laid the hand back down by its side.

Eddie leaned forward a little to examine the creature's face. He lifted a hand, gently pushing some of the soggy hair out of his face. He frowned at the slash that ran across its cheeks, cutting through a wild pack of freckles. His pale skin allowed the freckles on his cheeks to shine like stars on a clear night. Eddie thought about counting them, like he had the stars, but he opted not to as he knew he had more pressing tasks at hand. He took one last glance at the face, allowing himself to soak in the mermaid's features in all its beauty. Yes, beauty. Even Eddie couldn’t deny it, the creature was fairly beautiful. But now isn't the time for crushes, Eddie shook his head as he finally made his way down to the tale.

Eddie examined its chest. It was fairly skinny, not malnourished, as in he could slightly see his ribs, but it wasn't too concerning. He noticed a couple bruises and various scrapes that would need to be disinfected. He followed the pale skin down. Suddenly Eddie’s brows furrowed together. The creature had no belly button. But if he had, then the scales would have started just below it.

Now without the water blurring their colour, he was able to see the scales in all their glory. They were a pastel blue, some places darker than others, the shades varying as the tail continued. The tip of its monofin shined a sparkly silver that could give the real stuff a run for its money.

Finally, he got to his feet and overlooked all of the creature’s injuries. Sure he had some scraps, cuts and bruises along the upper part of its body, but its tail got the worst of it. The net was tangled up in its monofin and dug into its scales, causing some of them to flake off.

He raked his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. “Fuck,” he sighed, realizing how much work he had to do. Without wasting any more time, he leaned over to the abundance of supplies he’d brought outside and grabbed the exacto knife to cut the net. Just as the blade popped out and Eddie leaned in, something cold and slimy grabbed his wrist. His body went cold, head snapping towards the mermaids. His eyes locked with the fish’s. The blues of his eyes were wide and determined. Eddie looked down and realized it was the hand with the knife. Quickly he grabbed the knife with his free hand and tossed it to the side.

“Hey-Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie motioned his hands to show that they were empty and he meant no harm. Only then did the creature release Eddie’s hand, his head flopping back against the towel. Eddie leaned over and saw that its eyes were still open, but they were hazed, almost unfocused. Eddie didn’t think too much of it, probably the salt water making him go blind or something.

“Okay, I’m just gonna try to remove the net, alright?” He asked, but received no response. He leaned back over and pulled his bifocals out of his second fanny pack, then leaned back in and began examining the net.

The mermaid’s head tilted upwards, it watched the human’s fingers traced along the edges of the net. Its eyes grew wide at the sight of the spectacles on Eddie’s face.

Eddie noticed the movement and glanced over at the creature. He hummed lightly, wondering what it was looking at. The moment didn’t last too long as when Eddie leaned away from the tail, the creature lunged at him. Its arms out and claws sharp, its eyes filled with determination. Eddie shrieked and fell backwards, his hands flew up to his face.

After a moment of heavy breathing, he realized he felt no pain. He slowly moved his shaky hands away from his face and looked up at the mermaid. He was surprised to see it carefully holding his bifocals.

It held it in his hands as if they were so fragile they’d break. The creature slid them onto his face as if it was a second nature. The blue eyes blinked a couple times before its face scrunched up in confusion. It took the glasses off and held them once again in its hands. Now its face was filled with disbelief and worry.

“What?” Eddie asked, unsure of what was happening.

The creature looked up at the human with sad, hazy eyes. For a moment they just held eye contact, as if they were having a conversation with their eyes in a language Eddie didn’t understand. Then the creature held the glasses out towards Eddie with one hand, while the other pointed towards its own chest.

Eddie’s face scrunched up, he hated charades. “What about the glasses?”.

The creature pointed to itself once again.

“Your glasses?” Eddie suggested, and the blue eyes widened to an impossible size. A new emotion spread over the fish’s face, excitement. “Yeah?” Eddie asked, and nodded. “Yeah!” Eddie said happily. “Yeah…” he repeated, this time with fear laced in his voice as he had no clue where its glasses were.

Since when do mermaids wear glasses anyways? What the fuck?

“Wait- You can understand me?” It finally dawned on Eddie, he’d been talking to a mermaid, and it was responding… technically.

Its eyebrows lowered and their glare became sharp, as if to say ‘ Yeah, so? ’, followed by a slow nod. Now it had used its free arm to prop itself up on it’s elbow so they were almost at eye level.

Eddie smiled softly at the fish, his cheeks a little warmer than they were before. He nervously chuckled, “Oh, cool”. He rubbed the back of his neck, diverting his gaze around the backyard so he didn’t have to stare into those ocean eyes any longer. His sight landed on the pile of trash he said he’d sort through later that laid on his lawn and he noticed a piece of glass that shined in the light.

Eddie gasped, he jumped from his sitting position up to his feet and ran to his pile of trash. He snatched the object up off of the lawn and ran back to the mermaid, practically falling down beside it. Eddie got situated on the ground, a wide smile on his face. He held them and carefully opened them up, without any further wait, he leaned in and slid the glasses on the mermaid's face.

The fish was confused at first, unsure of how to feel about the human being so close. But the small boy didn’t give it much of a chance to react because before he could flinch, his vision cleared. Its hands moved up to its face and felt around, touching the glasses that they knew all too well.

Finally being able to see clearly, it looked up at the boy in front of it. Its lips curved into a wide smile that got a little giggle out of the human.

“So I guess those are yours?” Eddie asks.

The mermaid nods proudly. The moment is cut short when a bolt of pain cuts through the fish’s tail, it grimaces and hisses.

Eddie tenses at the sound, “Oh shit! Sorry, but can I please use the knife?” He beged, eyes wide and worried.

The mermaid lies back down on the towel, eyes forced shut. It nods.

Okay, okay, okay . Eddie’s thoughts pick up at the thought of being so close to the creature. Not because it’s like- cute or anything, no , it’s because he doesn't want to hurt it. Yeah, that’s why .

Eddie gripped the exacto knife with enough strength to make his knuckles go white. His eyes skimmed over the net, deciding on where to cut. He found a spot he claimed to be a good start and began cutting. He sliced the net up and into pieces, slowly freeing the tail from its grasp. Soon enough he was just left with the pieces that had the hooks attached to them.

“Sorry this is gonna hurt,” Eddie said before he carefully pulled the fist hook loose. The fish’s breathing hitched and filled with pain. “ Sorry!” Eddie grimaced as he pulled another one out. This one leaked a lot more blood and the mermaids hand smacked around the ground, causing Eddie to jump at the sudden sound. It felt like it took hours to fully free the tail, but soon enough the deed was done.

Eddie leaned back on his hands and tilted his head up towards the sun. “I’m sorry,” he breathed before looking back down at the mermaid. It sat upright now, carefully examining its tail. It reached out to touch one of the cuts. Eddie jumped into action and slapped the hand away. It hissed at Eddie. “Hey! Don’t do that, I’ve still gotta disinfect them, okay?” His tone grew impatient as he cracked open the first aid kit.

His back began to ache from the hours he’d spent hunched over the blue tail, disinfecting the scrapes and bandaging the deeper cuts. He moved on to the upper half of the creature.

“Tell me if this hurts, okay?” Eddie requested as the mermaid gave him a side eye look. Eddie began to slowly put pressure on different places on the fish’s chest, mainly the places with the bruises to see if- The mermaid let out a loud hiss. Eddie’s hands shot up and away as its claws came into view again. “Sorry! You have an injured rib, so that’s why it hurts. You won’t be able to move much until it heals,” Eddie explained, his mind going through the healing process when he realized it won’t be able to swim in this condition, and it certainly can’t stay on land in Eddie’s backyard.

“Oh…” Eddie’s graze dropped, a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him as he realized what he’s gonna have to do. But before he allowed himself to think over the idea too much, he finished cleaning all of the cuts that needed it.

“O-Okay, so I-um.... I can’t leave you here, and I can’t bring you back to the ocean cause you’re hurt and you need to properly heal. So i’m gonna bring you into my house and keep you in my bathtub, okay?” He rambled in hopes the creature understood what he was saying. God, I sound fucking insane. This is insane! I can’t keep an oversized goldfish in my tub. But I can’t leave him out here… the pool guys are coming tomorrow and if they see him we’d be in so much shit- It’s the only way . Eddie finalized his plan with a sigh.

“You,” he pointed at the creature, “stay,” he demanded before he got up and went back inside. He ran upstairs and into the bathroom, flopped down beside the big bathtub, and began running the water. He set the temperature to warm then took a moment to catch his breath.

Everything began to settle in. The mermaid, the scales, the storm, the future, the creature’s eyes, its freckles- Okay, Eddie stop it. It’s a fucking sea creature, you can’t have a crush on it . He huffed and rolled his eyes at his gay thoughts. Eddie’s been out for a couple months now, to his mother's dismay, and he’s been happy. Sure he’s had a couple crushes before, but he’s never had one on a fish person… So he wasn't too sure what to think of that.

The white noise created by the running water created a soothing atmosphere for the boy, and for a moment, he sat in silence and just breathed . Though the moment was short lived, a low whale-like sound erupted from his stomach, reminding him about the fact that he hasn't had lunch yet. He looked down at his watch and saw it was already 3 pm.

Holy shit, time flies when you're with a merman. If I’m hungry then imagine what it must be feeling, when was the last time it ate? What does it eat? Do I have anything to feed it? Okay let’s just focus on getting it inside first- Also? Finding a fucking name for this thing, I can’t keep calling it, well, IT!

Eddie shook all of the static out of his head and pulled himself to his feet. He turned the knob to the bathtub and turned the water off, he hoped the temperature would suffice, he’d find out soon enough.

Going back to the mermaid in his backyard, he found it in the same place he left it, which was a relief. Still on its back, with an arm on its forehead to shade its eyes from the blaring afternoon sun. It sensed the human before he approached. It moved its arm and tilted its head to look up at the towering figure.

“Hi again, so I need to pick you up to bring you inside. So you don't… die. Is that okay?” Eddie asked awkwardly. The creature simply shrugged, as if to say ‘Do what you need’. “Okay, well , you need to help me out cause you weigh a fucking ton and I am not strong. So wrap your arms around my neck and don’t-don’t fucking eat me,” Eddie instructed as he got down on his knees, bracing himself for the weight he’d soon carry.

The mermaid sat up. Eddie moved his hands underneath the tail, he didn’t wait for the mer to move its arms because he knew if he waited any longer he’d convince himself not to. So he sharply inhaled and lifted the mermaid up bridal style. He wobbled slightly as he gained his balance on his feet. The wobble sent a shiver down the mer’s spine, he jumped to wrap its arms around Eddie’s neck in fear of being dropped.

The sudden motion made Eddie smirk. “Oh, now you do it,” he forced a small laugh. Eddie began to walk forward towards the house, each step harder than the last.

When they got to the stairs, Eddie’s breath hitched when he went up the first stair, his arms almost gave out from beneath him.

The mermaid shook and buried its face in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Eddie felt the glasses dig into his neck. With the sudden change of proximities, the mer’s breath sent shivers down Eddie’s back, it was slow and warm.

The muscles in his arms burned before he even started up the staircase to the second flood. “Fuck… me,” Eddie murmed, as if it was going to take away the fiery pain that ran through his body.

Eddie was practically dragging his feet as he walked, unable to bring them up from the ground. His vision was set on the staircase in front of him, so he didn’t notice the one floorboard that was slightly higher than the others. The toe of his foot collided with the floorboard and they went toppling forward, hitting the floor with a big thump .

The creature let out a ear bleeding shriek as it fell, then pain erupted from its tail as it landed on the ground. Certainly the extra weight of a human on its torso didn’t help at all.

Eddie was in shock for a moment, unsure of what had just happened. Looking around he turned and saw he was now face to face with the mermaid. Their eyes locked, both of them wild and concerned. Eddie snapped himself back into reality before he could get lost in the ocean eyes again.

“I-I’m sorry. Shit , I’m so sorry,” Eddie stammered, his body weak and his arms aching. He rolled off the creature and onto his back. “I’m sorry,” He croaked, the failure settling in.

He didn’t move his gaze from the ceiling over his head. He didn’t want the mer to see his eyes as they filled with tears. Something cold rested on top of Eddie’s hand. Hesitantly, he dragged his eyes over to the creature beside him. The hand held onto his own as the mermaid’s lips offered a tight but comforting smile, as if to say, it’s okay, really . Eddie shifted his hand ever so slightly so the mer’s hand fit more comfortably in his. The webbing that lined the fingers of the mermaid’s hand tickled Eddie’s. Its thumb rubbed slow circles over Eddie’s knuckles.

“A-Are you okay?” Eddie whispered worriedly.

The creature was in pain, for sure, but it nodded anyways, for the human’s sake.

Neither of them were sure how long they stayed like that, hand in hand, breathing laboured and heavy, eyes on the ceiling. Although at some point Eddie’s arms felt a smidge better, and his breathing had returned. That’s when he knew he had to try again.

“1....2...3!” Eddie lifted the mermaid off the ground again. It seemed just a little easier than last time. This time he kept his breathing steady, and kept his eyes going from the stairs in front of him to his goal, the bathroom.

Once they stood in the middle of the upstairs hallway, Eddie took a minute and stood and caught his breath. He noticed the way the mer’s eyes drifted and examined his new surroundings. But something caught his eye and Eddie felt one of the arms slowly move away from his neck. Hesitantly he turned his head just in time to see the clawed hand reaching out for Eddie’s own little creature that sat in a fish tank that lined the hallway. It was his pet betta fish, Goldy. (He wasn't a creative kid, okay?).

“NO!” Eddie exclaimed, almost dropping the mermaid again. The sudden motion caused the arm to wrap back around Eddie’s neck in fear of being dropped. “Do not eat my goldfish. She is a friend, not fucking food,” he practially growled.

The creature shrank away, not a fan of the tone Eddie had gained. As much as it wanted to lean away from the boy who just scolded him, it leaned into Eddie, it liked the warmth his skin gave off. It curled a little deeper into his touch, putting his chin on top of his shoulder and nestling into the side of his face.

Eddie got the mermaid settled into the bathtub and immediately noticed a change in its mood. Suddenly its eyes had a new sparkle to them and his lips were always semi smiling.

Eddie sat on the closed toilet seat and took in the sight before him. A mermaid in my bathtub… This’ll be one hell of a diary entry . “So! I-er, I hope this isn’t rude, but are you a girl or a boy? I know you don’t have boobs but I really don’t know how this whole mermaid thing works,” Eddie stopped himself before he kept rambling.

The mer lifted two fingers in the air. Two, second, second option. “Boy?” Eddie tilted his head. The creature nodded. He sighed in relief, “Good, good… I-I’m Eddie by the way.” The creature nodded again then ducked his head down into the water and blew bubbles up at the human. Eddie huffed in amusement at the gesture.

The human’s stomach rumbled again. He rolled his eyes in response. He didn’t even bother telling the mermaid- merman? Merman. He didn’t bother telling him he was gonna leave cause the mer looked like he was having the time of his life blowing bubbles down under. Once he was in the kitchen, Eddie tried to be quick, opening up every cupboard and checking everywhere for food fit for a fish. The only thing he came across that seemed semi-suitable were fish sticks. Eddie eyed them for about half a minute before ripping the bag open, throwing them into a container then shoving it in the microwave. He made himself a quick sandwich, cheese and ketchup (That was the most unhealthy food Sonia ever let Eddie eat so let him be). He’d barley chewed his first bit before the microwave beeped. He held the sandwich in between his lips and held the container with both hands, moving it between the two cause it was hot.

Once he was back in the bathroom he took his seat back down on the toilet seat and set the container on his lap. Eddie quickly ate his sandwich, only when he looked up did he notice the merman’s eyes were sitting out of the water, watching him like a hawk from behind his sea glasses.

“Hungry?” Eddie asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The merman lifted the rest of his head out of the water at the sight of the food. Eddie held up a fish stick, “Okay, I know this is like processed shit but,” he sighed, tired of all the talking and manual labour he’s been doing, “It’s all I have.”

The mer shrugged and opened his mouth, asking Eddie to feed him. The human was taken aback at the gesture, but he gave in and picked up a fish stick, tearing a bite-sized chunk off. Eddie leaned forward and held it out just in front of the mer’s face. Its lips felt soft against the human skin as it took the food from him. It gulped it down happily then opened his mouth up again. The fish finished the whole container.

He opened his mouth again and Eddie scoffed, “I’m all out fish boy! I guess I’ll go get some stuff tomorrow,” Eddie motioned to the empty container. The fish let out a low grumble as he sunk back under the water and blew bubbles at Eddie, as if showing attitude.

“Oh shut it trashmouth,” Eddie retorted, the nickname just slipped out.

The water sloshed against the side of the tub as his eyes burst back out of the water.

Eddie let out a nervous laugh at the sudden movement, “W-What? You like that, trashmouth? ” Eddie said in a teasing manner. The mer’s lips smirked from underwater. The sight brightened Eddie’s smile.

“Well, trashmouth, I have no clue what time it is but I’m tired as fuck. I’m gonna go to sleep. You should too, so you can heal,” Eddie advised. He stood, took a step towards the tub and ruffled the fish’s hair. The mer leaned into the touch, the both of them enjoyed the physical attention.

Word count: 7604

I hope you guys liked the first chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments. I will see you guys next week with chapter 2, Sushi and Speeches. Until then, So Long And Goodnight.

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