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octoberclidan · 5 months

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This isn't You

Request: I've got this Supernatural idea for some time now and I guess I thought today would be the day ne being brave and sending you a request. I hope you doing fine. I love your stories so much and most of them I read already more than once=) so, sorry in advance, cause I'm a huuuge simp for drama, angst and hurt im case there will be a happy ending :D

Sam and female reader are in a relationship (don't know if I see the reader as a hunter or if she only helps them out with the research). After a hunt, Sam behaves weird towards his girlfriend, but that only when they're alone. In front of Dean Sam is the normal towards her. But when they're alone, it starts with him being distant. And gets worse when he's rude to her, shoving her out of the way etc. She talks to Dean about it, but he can't really belive it, cause he doesn't notice a change in his brother. Bit by bit she gets afraid of Sam and his behavior is getting worse when he is getting also physically rude to her (bruise her etc) and she's also desperate cause Dean doesn't belive her. During one night Sam seems to have a nightmare and hurts her really bad (choking and hitting or something like that), that Dean wakes up from the screaming and protects reader from Sam. So I imagine a witch cursed Sam and now they need to find the remedy and protect reader from Sam. Maybe you like to add after they cured him she's still afraid of Sam and flinches whenever he gets near her, afraid he's still the bad Sam. And it's hard work for Sam to gain her trust and overcome her trauma he being so evil to her.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

[Y/N] was sitting in the back of the Impala with several books laid out beside her on witches, and the two Winchester brothers were in the front, Dean driving, Sam flicking through a book of his own. It was a sunny day, and the windows were down just enough to let some cooler air in, but not enough to mess with the pages in the books.

"You sure it's a witch and not a wraith?" Dean asked, looking in the rearview mirror at [Y/N] and then glancing at Sam. "We've seen this kind of thing before, something sucking the life out of people in nursing homes or hospitals. Several times actually".

"It's definitely a witch", [Y/N] said, turning a page in her book. "It's one specific witch".

"Okay, yeah, but how do you know?"

"Dude", Sam spoke up, looking over at his brother. "She explained it all this morning, did you really not listen to anything?"

"What, before I had coffee? C'mon Sammy, you both know not to try and talk to me before I've had coffee". He tapped the steering wheel before glancing back at [Y/N]. "Mind giving me the run down again Sweetheart?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. Dean was like an older brother to her - she loved him, but he could be annoyingly bad at listening sometimes. She took a deep breath and began to retell her story. "A few years back I was on a case, thought it was a wraith in a nursing home out in the middle of Texas", she turned another page of her book, trying to keep her mind on something tangible, since this wasn't a story she liked her mind wandering to, and she'd already told it earlier that morning. "I was hunting with an old friend, it was before I met you two. When we got there, we couldn't find the wraith. Long story short, it turned out to be two witches, a man and a woman, sucking the lives out of the patients to extend their own. They killed my friend, just caught him completely off guard", she gulped back a lump in her throat and rubbed the book's page between her fingers. "I only managed to kill the woman. I just injured the guy and he took off before I could kill him. I've been hunting him ever since. I think he's taunting me. He has this... signature. He reports unusually high numbers of deaths in nursing homes in small towns, I guess when he's getting close to moving on, to the local newspapers, and he always gives his name as 'Ross Murphy'", she looked out of the window of the car. "That was my friend's name".

Sam looked around at her and reached back to grab her hand, which she graciously took. She'd been in a relationship with Sam for several months now and she couldn't ask for a more caring boyfriend. His capacity for empathy and love after everything he'd seen, everything he'd been through, was extraordinary. "She follows the lead every time it comes up, which isn't very often", Sam continued for her. "Usually it takes too long, it's too far away and by the time she gets there he's long gone". He squeezed her hand. "But she caught the report the day it was released this time, today, and he's only a day's drive away. There's a real chance of getting him this time".

"Okay", Dean nodded and sat up straighter in his seat, gripping tighter onto the wheel with a new sense of determination. "This is your Yellow Eyes, we'll help you get him".

She managed a small smile and squeezed Sam's hand before letting go, nodding at him to let him know she was okay, and they went back to their reading.

***

After a quick stop at a motel to get a room and work out a plan, they made their way to the nursing home that had been named in the newspaper article. The witch would recognise [Y/N] straight away, he'd see her coming, so, even though [Y/N] wanted nothing more than to march inside and kill him, she'd agreed to wait in the car and let the boys go in first. She'd described him to them, and the plan was for them to locate him, let [Y/N] know if they found him, and then they'd get him into a room on his own and keep him distracted with FBI questions about the unusual deaths until [Y/N] made her way inside to face him.

She was trying to keep herself occupied by going through the different books she'd brought, and was just about to text them to ask for an update when she saw them walking towards the car. She was confused, an hour was a long time for them to find nothing, unless they'd decided to kill the witch themselves and leave her out of it. If it was the latter, she would not be happy with either of them. Dean got to the car first, opening up the driver's side and sliding into his seat. "Sorry [Y/N], he wasn't there. Handed in his resignation about two hours before we got here, he could be anywhere by now". Sam was quick to slide into his own seat.

"Sorry, I know you wanted this to be the time you got him", he gave her a sympathetic look and she sighed in disappointment.

"What were you doing in there for an hour?" She looked between both of them, and Sam spoke up.

"We decided to split up and do a sweep of the place just in case, ask some of the residents about him".

"Yeah", Dean said, "I spoke to a nurse there, she listed a few towns that she said he'd mentioned to her recently, so I'm thinking we can go through them, catch him before he leaves his signature". He put his hand into his inside pocket and pulled out his small notebook to hand back to [Y/N]. "What do you think? Want to go to the closest one on the list now?"

"Or we could head back to the bunker and regroup, keep an eye on death counts over the next few days in the nursing homes in those towns? I could call Charlie and get her help with coming up with some sort of monitor or notification system for that kind of thing. It would probably be more efficient than travelling around to all those different towns. I mean, some of them are pretty far apart". Sam suggested. The two boys waited for [Y/N] to say what she wanted to do. She was beyond disappointed that she'd missed him again, by such little time too.

"Can we just go back to the motel? I kind of just want to think it over".

"Sure, we can do that", Dean turned around to start up the engine, and Sam turned to face forward too. [Y/N] stared out of the window for the drive back, trying to keep her hopes up.

***

"Alright, you two out, I'll go grab some food", Dean said as they pulled up outside the motel. Sam and [Y/N] stepped out of the car, and she was too upset with how the hunt had gone that she didn't register the fact that Sam didn't wait for her, he just walked straight to the room. Sam always waited for her, he always wanted to walk with her, especially when he knew she was upset. She followed him through the door and set her bag down on the table.

"Can you put that somewhere else? We're going to eat at the table", Sam looked at her expectantly, and she was a bit taken aback by his tone, but picked her bag up and dropped it down on the floor beside one of the beds. "Thanks", he mumbled, looking through his own bag for a change of clothes. "I'm gonna shower". He turned and walked into the bathroom, locking it behind him. Sam always asked if she wanted to shower first, and he never locked the door when it was just the two of them. She stood in the middle of the room, wondering if she'd done something to annoy him, but she couldn't think of anything. She sat down at the table and stared out of the window, wondering what the chances were of them finding the witch before he made a report this time. Sam was quick in his shower, and when he came out he went straight to a bed, laying down on it and flicking through his notebook. After waiting a moment to see if he had anything to say, and he didn't, [Y/N] went for her shower.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Dean was back. The two of them were sitting at the table, taking food out of a bag. Sam looked up at [Y/N] and smiled, patting the chair beside him. "Dean got your favourite". Now even more confused at his sudden change in attitude, she hesitated, but walked over to take a seat beside him. He leaned his arm on the back of her chair and pulled the bag over for her to get her food out of.

"How are you doing now?" Dean asked, picking up a few fries. She shrugged, not really sure how she felt about how the day had gone. She felt Sam move his hand to her shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll get him. Trust me, with the three of us after him together for the first time, he doesn't stand a chance".

***

Sam remained his usual self for the rest of the evening, chatting with Dean and [Y/N]. He and [Y/N] shared a bed and Dean took the second bed like usual, and also like usual, Sam held [Y/N] close to his chest, stroking her back until she fell asleep. He seemed normal the following morning too, and when [Y/N] asked if they could go back to the bunker and work out the best strategy for hunting the witch down, both Sam and Dean were fully supportive.

However, once it got late enough and they'd all been sitting in the bunker's library for several hours looking through Dean's list and trying to figure out the best way to search for the witch, things changed again. Dean closed his laptop and announced that he was going to bed, and as soon as he left the room, Sam's demeanour changed almost instantly. He suddenly looked uncomfortable in his seat and closed his laptop too. "You going to bed too?" [Y/N] asked and he scoffed at her.

"I spent all of yesterday and all of today working on this case for you, and you're going to make a big deal out of me wanting to get some sleep?"

"What? No? Where's this coming from?" She asked, extremely confused by his defensiveness. She'd only asked if he was going to bed because then she'd call it a day too and join him.

"Come on, it's like I can never do enough to please you", he said as he stood up, tucking his laptop under his arm. He turned to leave but she stood up and grabbed his arm.

"Hey, wait. You can't just say that and then walk off!" She tried to turn him around but he shrugged her grip off his arm and continued to walk.

"Just do me a favour and sleep in your own bed tonight, I need a good night's sleep without you suffocating me". With that, he left. [Y/N] stood there with her mouth open, a wave of pain and nausea hitting her which she could most definitely describe as the feeling of rejection. She'd never officially moved into Sam's room, most of her stuff was in a room of her own, but she couldn't remember the last time she slept in there instead of in Sam's room.

"What's with the shouting?" Dean walked back into the room, now dressed in his MoL dressing gown. He walked past [Y/N] to grab his laptop, then walked back over to her. "[Y/N]? Why are you just standing there?" He looked down at her to wait for a response when he saw a tear escape from her eye. "Hey, what's wrong? Why were you shouting? Where's Sam?"

"He..." She swallowed and cleared her throat when her voice sounded shaky. "He told me to sleep in my own room tonight". Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Why? That doesn't sound like him".

[Y/N] shook her head in agreement. "I think I did something to piss him off, but I have no idea what".

"Maybe he's just tired. I'm sure he'll be all apologetic in the morning", Dean gently patted her shoulder. "Go get some sleep, I think we're all tired". He smiled at her reassuringly before leaving the room to head to his bed for the night. [Y/N] sighed, trying to believe Dean's words that Sam was just overtired and he'd be back to normal in the morning. It was difficult, he'd never acted like this towards her. Sure, he'd been annoyed at her before, but she always knew why - like if she'd taken too big of a risk on a hunt, or if she'd ganged up on him with Dean during a prank war and gone a bit too far, but this time, she couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong. She walked towards her room, which was closer than Sam's was so she didn't have to walk by his room, and sat down on her bed. She'd gone for naps in this bed occasionally when Sam wasn't around, but couldn't remember the last time she spent a night in it. It was cold, and the room didn't smell like Sam at all. She changed into pyjama shorts and one of Sam's old t-shirts that she found in the back of her closet, and got into bed. It took her a long time to fall asleep, thoughts of Sam wanting to break up with her floating around her mind.

***

For a moment when she first woke up, she forgot that she was in her own bed. She stretched, and when the other side of her bed was cold, the memory of going to sleep alone hit her, forcing her eyes open. She looked to her side, where she'd usually find Sam, and there was no one there. Sighing, she forced herself up to go and get dressed and ready for another day of research, trying to push her anxiety about Sam to the background of her thoughts.

Dean was in the kitchen when she walked in, a stack of bacon in front of him and a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked up at her as she walked over to the coffee machine. "Did you get some sleep?" He asked and she looked over to him and nodded.

"Yeah, I did actually", she grabbed her cup when it was ready and sat down opposite him. "Look, if you don't want to research today, please don't feel like you have to. This is my case, it's on me, I've been on it for years on my own and I can continue it like that". She figured if Sam was annoyed at having to work on this case, then Dean must be too.

"What're you talking about?" Dean mumbled through a mouth full of bacon before swallowing. "This is a case, we work cases, it's what we do. I can't start a case and then just give it up when we've barely done anything".

She was about to thank him when a noise caught her attention. She turned around to see Sam walking through the doorway and the blood instantly drained from her face, having no idea what he was going to say to her. He walked over to her and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "Good morning", he smiled down at her and walked away to get his own coffee.

"Good... morning?" What was going on with him?

"You seem to be in a good mood", Dean remarked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, had a good night's sleep, ready to get back into the research", Sam sat down beside [Y/N], his words stinging knowing he slept well without her. "You seem a bit quiet, are you alright?" He gently nudged [Y/N] with his shoulder, she just blinked at him. He turned to Dean to see his confused expression too. "What?" He chuckled uncomfortable, glancing between the two of them. "Do I smell or something?"

"Why are you acting so weird?" She shifted to face him properly. "One minute it's all gentle touches and smiles and then the next you're all annoyed and telling me that I'm suffocating you?"

Sam scoffed and furrowed his eyebrows at her. "What are you talking about? Did you have a bad dream or something?"

"Don't do that Sam. Don't fucking gaslight me". She glared at him and Dean shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable at sitting opposite the two of them right now. He cleared his throat and mumbled some sort of excuse before leaving the room.

"Get a grip [Y/N], no one's gaslighting you". He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, leaving [Y/N] staring at him with her eyes wide open. Sam continued to drink his coffee, not saying anything else.

"Okay", she took a deep breath. "This isn't you. You need to tell me what's going on Sam, you're scaring me".

"Scaring you?" He scoffed. "You're a sad excuse for a hunter if you're scared of a normal person".

"You're not acting normal right now. Not at all. You're being weirdly rude, Sam". She watched as he finished his coffee and stood up, leaving his mug in the sink and walking out of the room without replying to her. She sat there for a moment until Dean walked in, whistling one of his favourite songs. "What's wrong with him Dean?" She asked and he stood beside the table, folding his arms and looking down at her.

"What do you mean?"

"You saw how he was, pretending nothing was going on even though he told me to sleep alone last night".

"I mean..." He shrugged at her. "I just passed him in the hallway and he seemed fine, he said he spoke with Charlie and they're going to work out some sort of algorithm for tracking down this witch of yours".

"So you don't think he's being rude or mean at all?

"Rude or mean?" He chuckled. "This is Sam we're talking about. Like I said yesterday, he was probably just tired, but he's ready to get to work today and help with the case".

***

[Y/N] kept her distance from Sam for most of the day, electing to go out for a supply run and then research in her room. When the evening rolled around, Dean came to find her to tell her that he'd cooked dinner for the three of them, and she followed him out into the kitchen where Sam was already seated. He hadn't come to check on her once throughout the entire day, but just like in the motel, he patted the seat beside him and smiled at her, seeming like his usual self. Once again she pushed all of the strangeness to the back of her mind, and let herself enjoy the meal with the brothers. They discussed their findings from the research, Sam explained the system he'd set up and that as soon as any of the nursing homes in their list reported a higher than usual number of deaths, they'd be notified. The conversation moved on to reminiscing about other witch hunts, then moved to funny stories about strange hunts which left all three of them laughing and relaxed until late into the night.

[Y/N] had almost forgotten about Sam's coldness towards her as they walked down the hall to his room, hand in hand as Dean walked with them. "Night Dean", she smiled at him as he headed into his room, and she and Sam walked into Sam's room. Sam let go of her hand and closed the door behind them, then started to take his clothes off, stripping down to his boxers. [Y/N] took her clothes off too, leaving herself in her underwear, and they both got into the bed. Usually, Sam would pull her over and hold her until she fell asleep, but this time, he turned onto his side and faced away from her. Propping herself up on her elbow to look at him, she paused for a moment before saying something. "Sam?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just go to sleep, I'm tired".

[Y/N] lay down and listened as Sam started to softly snore. There was definitely something up with him. He'd never treated her like this before, and since Sam was big on communication and letting people know when he was annoyed, she really couldn't understand what was going on between them. She tried to close her eyes and fall asleep, but she couldn't. She felt uncomfortable in the bed, like she wasn't wanted there. After twenty or so minutes of lying there, she gave up. She slowly and carefully pushed the covers off and stepped out of the bed, her bare feet cold on the floor as she crept out of the room. She made her way to her own room and slid into her bed, pulling the covers up over herself and hugging her pillow tightly. She cried herself to sleep.

***

"[Y/N]? You awake?" Dean knocked on her door. She groaned and opened one eye, grabbing her phone to check the time. 6am.

"What?" She called back, yawning and stretching.

"Get ready to head out onto the road, Sam got a hit and it's only an hour's drive from here", Dean shouted through the door. Sam. As much as she wanted to get out there and find the witch, she didn't want to face Sam. He'd obviously been up and awake for awhile if he'd gotten a hit and had time to go and wake Dean up. He must have noticed that [Y/N] was no longer in his bed, yet he hadn't bothered to go search for her.

She was quick to get washed and dressed and out to the car, where both brothers were waiting for her. She slid into her usual seat in the back, behind Dean, and Sam turned around to smile at her. "Hey, missed you this morning, was everything okay?" He asked. She searched for any sign of deception on his face, but he seemed completely genuine.

"I slept in my own bed last night".

"How come?" He furrowed his eyebrows at her. She gave him the same look back but turned to look towards Dean's direction instead.

"You said it was an hour away?" She asked, avoiding Sam's gaze. Dean started up the car and nodded.

"Yep, so make sure you're prepared. If he's in there, we're gonna want to corner him quickly before he escapes". The three of them didn't speak for the entirety of the car ride, it was early and neither Dean nor [Y/N] were morning people, and Sam knew well enough not to try and treat them like they were.

Dean suggested using the same plan as last time; the Winchesters would go in first and then call [Y/N] if they found the witch. [Y/N] agreed, but she was even less happy about it than last time with how weird Sam had been acting. She wasn't sure what was going on with him, but she didn't exactly trust him 100% at the moment. She waited in the car all but five minutes before deciding to go in after them.

She was greated by a nurse at the front desk, and she asked which way her partners had gone. After the nurse showed her that they had turned left down a hallway, she thanked the nurse and made her way down the hallway, smiling at an old woman on the way who said hello to her. She checked a few of the rooms along the hallway, but three were empty and one just had an elderly man with his family visiting. She reached the end of the hallway and found a staircase. When she reached the top, she was faced with another hallway. She stopped when she reached the first door on the left, which was ajar. She peaked inside and her heart instantly started to race. He was there. The witch was standing at the window, and when he heard her come in, he smirked at her. "It's been a long time", he said. She instantly pulled out her gun and pointed it at him. "Well, that's a bit rude of you", he sniggered and took a step towards her. "Why don't we try and have some manners? We haven't even introduced ourselves. You don't know my name, do you?"

"I don't give a fuck what your name is". She ground her teeth together. "You killed my friend".

"Ah... yes. He was your friend. Not exactly a fair trade, was it?" He looked back outside the window. "I noticed after I'd killed him that your friend had a wedding band, but you didn't".

"Yeah, his wife and kids were devastated. I had to give them the news". She took a step towards him. "And now I'm going to kill you".

"And they call me a monster", he chuckled. "My victims, my patients, are nearing the ends of their lives. They're in pain, they're lost in their own minds. I put them out of their misery. We put them out of their misery. You killed her. You stabbed her, you pushed her out a window, and she died a painful death. Are we really so dissimilar?" He faced her again and raised an eyebrow at her. "I killed your friend, but you killed my partner, my love, my life. Why shouldn't I do the same to you? Would I not be justified, taking him from you, making you suffer?" He looked over the top of her head with a smirk, and she glanced back to find the door being pushed open wider, and Sam walking through, instantly raising his gun and shooting. When she looked back, the witch was gone.

"Don't tell me you were in here having a conversation with him", Sam snarled.

"I was just about to shoot him when you walked in", she went to walk over to where the witch had been standing, but Sam shoved her out of the way, making her stumble and fall against the wall. She grabbed her arm, a sharp pain resonating from her wrist up to her shoulder. "What the hell Sam?!" She shouted at him, but Sam was ignoring her, looking at the space that the witch had been in looking out the window. He turned to her, his jaw clenched and nostrils flaring; she'd never seem him look so angry. He walked over to her, looking down at her and pointing his finger at her. "If you're going to stop to have a chat with every monster we hunt then we won't have space for you on our team. Get your priorities straight, fucking ridiculous". He scoffed. She cowered beneath him, Sam was a large and intimidating man, and being on the receiving end of his anger was terrifying, even for an experienced hunter. "I'm going to find Dean and tell him you fucked up, we're going back to the bunker". He didn't give her a chance to respond before leaving the room.

***

The car ride back to the bunker was weird. Well, Sam was weird. Dean didn't seem too bothered by the witch escaping, he just started to hum along to his music. Sam kept turning around to ask [Y/N] if she was okay since she was quiet. He asked if her wrist was okay after she tripped. Tripped. She didn't know what to say to him, any time she brought up how mean he'd been to her, he acted confused and so did Dean. It was like they thought something weird was going on with her. She didn't know if it was an act, or if he genuinely was completely oblivious to how he'd been behaving. She ignored him as she stared out of the window, thinking over what the witch had said to her. 'Would I not be justified, taking him from you, making you suffer?' She definitely had been suffering over the last few days, and she felt like Sam was being taken from her.

She was quick to get out of the car and go to her room, ignoring Sam's attempts at following after her. She closed the door behind her and lay back on her bed, wondering how on earth she was going to convince Dean that something was wrong with Sam. She decided to call Charlie, since she knew she'd been working with Sam on the notification system, to see if she noticed anything off about him. After a long talk (rant) on the phone about Sam, [Y/N] came to the conclusion that he was completely normal with everyone except towards her, and only when he was alone with her. She'd have to make sure that Dean was around until she figured out how to fix things, because after he'd pushed her and hurt her in the nursing home, she was scared of Sam.

She kept herself locked away in her room until well into the evening. Her stomach was rumbling, and when it got late enough for the likelihood of Sam being in the kitchen to be low, she ventured out into the hallway. She walked quietly down the corridor to the kitchen, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was empty. She quickly got to work, making something that was quick and easy so she could get back to her room. She felt ridiculous, she was anxious about her boyfriend walking into the room. If she couldn't figure out what was wrong with him, she knew she'd have to leave. She couldn't stay in the bunker like this, she couldn't live in fear of someone she loved.

***

It was late at night when she'd finished eating in her room, and she left to go clean up her plate and cutlery in the kitchen. She'd only taken a few steps out of her room when Sam strolled around the corner, bumping into her. "Shit sorry- oh. It's you. Watch where you're going, will you?" He rolled his eyes and shoved past her, but she grabbed his arm.

"Can we -" She was cut off by Sam grabbing her arm and ripping it off his. He pushed her back against the wall, the same sore wrist being the first part of her to hit the wall. She cried out in pain and slid down the wall, cradling her arm as tears started to spill from her eyes.

"Don't touch me", he snarled at her. "God you're so pathetic, crying on the floor. Get over yourself". He walked down the hallway to his room, leaving her there alone. She sat there, staring after him yet again, and just let herself cry. All of the pain, confusion, coldness, rudeness, the roughness, just crashed down on her. She couldn't help it.

"Hey, hey what happened?" Suddenly Dean was crouching down in front of her, pushing her hair out of her face and pulling her chin up to face him. "Shit, [Y/N] tell me what's wrong". He'd never seen her this upset before. Even when hunts went wrong, or she'd been injured by a monster and needed stitches or a trip to the ER, she'd never cried this much. When she continued to cry he gently grabbed her shoulders. "Breathe [Y/N], come on, you're okay". When she gave no sign of calming down, Dean looked down the hallway before looking back at her. "Okay, I'll get Sam".

"No!" She shouted, grabbing onto his flannel with her uninjured hand. "No, please", she sniffed, "please don't". He gave her a look of confusion but nodded.

"Right. You need to explain what's going on though, like right now".

"I... I think my wrist is broken", she looked down at it, it was definitely red and swollen, and if she tried to move it even slightly, a sharp stinging sensation ran throughout her hand and arm. She looked up at him, blinking the tears out of her eyes. "Could you maybe drive me to the hospital?"

"Yeah of course, and you definitely don't want me to get Sam?"

"Definitely not, he broke my wrist Dean. He pushed me, and not for the first time. I can't be around him, not like how he is. I know you don't see it, I know he seems normal to you, but I'm telling you. There's something wrong with him". She explained as he helped to get her up off the ground. They walked towards the car and she explained exactly what Sam had done and said to her over the last few days, and what the witch had said too.

They spoke about it on the way to the hospital, and Dean told her that he believed her, that he would help her figure it all out and that he would confront Sam about it later without [Y/N]. "You're like a little sister to me, and I know it sounds like a lie coming from me but I don't give a shit if it's Sam or if it's Lucifer that's hurting you, I won't allow it". He pulled up into a parking space before turning to her. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with this and I'm sorry I dismissed you when you tried telling me about it before. I'll help you".

"Thanks", she smiled at him. Dean really was like an older brother to her too, and now that she had someone on her team, especially Dean of all people, protecting her, she was a little bit less scared of going home.

***

"Okay, you should be good to go in just a minute. I'll write you up a prescription for some pain killers and then you can go on home", the doctor smiled kindly at [Y/N] as she finished up putting a cast on her wrist. She had a fractured wrist, not too bad, but it was still throbbing. The doctor left the room and [Y/N] turned to Dean, who'd been sitting patiently with her during the assessment.

"You remember when we went to the first nursing home, and the witch wasn't there?" [Y/N] asked, and Dean nodded. "Did you say you and Sam stuck together or did you say you split up?"

"We looked around the place together, but then split up when talking to the nurses and some of the residents", Dean said. "How come?"

"Just something the witch said. I think maybe he was there, and I think he may have done something to Sam", [Y/N] bit her lip, Sam being the only thing on her mind for days now.

"You think he's cursed?" Dean sat up a bit straighter. "I'll check his room and coat pockets for hexbags when we get back", he nodded.

"Yeah, that would be good. What if it's not a hexbag though? What if it's something we need the witch to undo?"

"Then we'll find the son of a bitch and make him fix it. There's no way in hell I'm letting Sam walk around cursed for the rest of his life", Dean scoffed. "One way or another we'll get him back to normal, I promise".

"Okay", the doctor walked back into the room with a prescription in hand, interrupting their cinversation. "You can fill this at the station downstairs, you'll pass it by on your way out", she handed the piece of paper to [Y/N]. "Come back and see me in six weeks, we'll get that off you and you'll be good as new", she smiled.

"Thank you", [Y/N] nodded and stood up, Dean standing with her and moving to shake the doctor's hand. The two of them left to fill the prescription and drive home. [Y/N] quietly hoped that Dean would find a hexbag and destroy it, and that would be the end of all her problems, but she knew not to let her hopes get too high. It was never that simple.

***

Dean didn't find any hexbags. He did however have a conversation with Sam, who seemed completely oblivious to how he'd been behaving when alone with [Y/N]. He told Dean that he thought [Y/N] was acting weird, he thought she wanted to break up with him because she'd been sleeping alone and avoiding him during the day. He was horrified when Dean told him about her wrist, and he went to apologise to her but Dean stopped him. Sam wasn't allowed to be alone with [Y/N] until they found the witch, and [Y/N] wasn't too enthusiastic about being around Sam even with Dean there. Sam respected her wishes, even though it felt like he was being stabbed through the heart, and kept to himself, only coming out of his room when [Y/N] texted him to say she was in her room and wasn't going to accidentally bump into him. They texted a little bit, and Sam was sweet through text, but it wasn't the same. She missed him. She missed his touch.

It was a week of this arrangement before Sam got a notification about another possible nursing home, and the three of them wasted no time in setting out onto the road. They suffered through yet another silent journey, this one nearly the entire day before they stopped in a motel for the night. [Y/N] had asked for two rooms, not wanting to share with Sam, but there was only one room left.

"I'll take the couch", she said quickly and she dropped her bag down onto it, noting that there were only two beds. Sam looked at her, a mixture of pleading and guilt in his eyes, but he didn't say anything. She avoided his gaze as she pulled out a towel and her pyjamas. "I'm gonna shower and then get some sleep, Dean will you be here when I get out?" She asked, not being able to address Sam without visions of him snarling at her.

"I think we'll take a look at the local bar, Sammy hasn't been out in awhile, right Sam?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at him. This was their silent conversation about how they figured [Y/N] would fall asleep more easily if she had the room to herself.

"Okay", she gave him a small smile, "Don't stay out too late". She finally looked at Sam and his eyes widened in surprise. "We want to have all of our energy to fix things tomorrow". She quickly walked to the bathroom and closed the door before Sam could say anything back. She sighed as she leaned back against the door, listening to the low rumble of the brothers talking briefly before she heard the room's door open and close. She pushed herself off the door and looked at herself in the mirror. "We'll find him tomorrow. We'll get Sam back to normal, it will all be okay", she tried to convince herself, but she didn't sound very convincing.

***

It took a long time for [Y/N] to fall asleep on the couch that night. It wasn't comfortable, there was noise coming from the TV in the room next door, and it was cold. She'd become so used to cuddling up to Sam whenever they were away on hunts that she'd forgotten how cold she could feel without him. It was late into the night when she fell asleep, and when Sam and Dean came back. They were both tired, and Sam instinctively walked over to [Y/N] and kneeled down, noticing that she'd pushed her cover off in her sleep, he grabbed it and gently pulled it back over her. He leaned towards her to kiss her forehead, and he sighed as he smelled her familiar shampoo in her hair. He brought his hand up to brush against her cheek and push her hair out of the way, realising that it had been too long since he'd properly seen her face.

Dean had drank quite a bit at the bar, and mixed with his tiredness from driving all day, he didn't think twice about walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind him, leaving Sam alone with [Y/N]. As soon as the door locked, Sam's hand in [Y/N]'s hair tightened, gripping a handful of it. She gasped as she woke up and tried to grab his hand, but he instantly covered her mouth with his free hand. At first when she looked at him, she thought a stranger had walked into the room. There was no resemblance of the Sam she knew and loved in the man in front of her. He looked angry, dangerous, and he was far too close to her.

"You", he snarled and shook his head. "You disgust me". She desperately tried to pull his hand off her mouth, but with one hand in a cast it was proving too difficult. She had no idea where Dean was, and she was terrified. "You're so fucking pathetic, having Dean act as a bodyguard for you, to keep you safe in your own home. You can't even look at me without terror in your eyes, I don't know how I ever liked you. I don't know why I ever wanted you. Maybe I didn't, maybe you were just there, and easy". He tightened his grip in her hair and pushed her down into the couch. "Life was better before you. Did I ever tell you that? When it was just me and Dean, I had my own room, my own space, and I wasn't constantly distracted on hunts by having my 'girlfriend' there, slowing us down". His grip in her hair suddenly let up, and she was confused until his hand travelled down to her neck and he began to apply pressure. "Life will be better when you're gone too".

She tried to scream, to bite his hand, to push him away, but Sam was far stronger than she was. She was becoming lightheaded, she couldn't breathe, and Sam's face was starting to become clouded by dark spots. She didn't hear Dean shouting, and she didn't know when Sam's touch turned to Dean's. Dean shook her shoulders and his hand cupped her cheek, but she couldn't open her eyes. "Come on", he said, leaning his face down to try and hear her breathing. "Come back to us, [Y/N]", he pleaded.

"D...Dean?" She whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Yes, it's me, you're safe, I promise. Can you open your eyes for me please?"

"Is Sam here?" She asked. "I-" She cleared her throat and it burned. "I don't want to see him".

"Okay, okay, you don't have to. Give me one minute". Dean looked behind himself at Sam, who was sitting on one of the beds staring at his hands in disbelief and confusion. "Sam", Dean said lowly, and caught his attention. He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys, throwing them to Sam. "Hotel Winchester tonight". [Y/N] waited until she heard the door open and close again before she opened her eyes. She found Dean looking down at her, his face flooded with concern. "Do we need to go to the hospital?" His finger traced lightly on her neck, and he frowned at the red fingerprints left behind by Sam. She shook her head, and reached up to grab his hand in hers. As soon as he looked into her eyes, she began to cry. She couldn't help it. The person she loved most in the world had just tried to kill her. She knew he was cursed, she knew this wasn't really him, but it was his face, his voice, and he wasn't possessed, there was no one else inside him.

Dean pulled her up and into his chest, his hand resting on the back of her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He gently rocked her back and forth as she let it all out, whispering soothing things to her, trying to convince her, and himself, that they'd fix everything in the morning.

***

[Y/N] was alone when she woke up the following morning, and she was no longer on the couch, but in one of the beds. She looked around and noticed that the bathroom door was open, it didn't sound like anyone was in there. Her eyes landed on a piece of paper on the table beside the couch, and she got out of bed to see what it said.

You need to rest. We've got this. Call me if you need anything. - Dean

She put it down and looked out of the window. It was raining, the sky was a dark grey and it looked cold, but she didn't feel as cold as she had during the night. She looked down and realised her hands were covered by the sleeves of a flannel that was too big for her. She recognised it as Dean's. She must have cried herself to sleep in his arms, and he must have put her to bed after. She hugged herself and sat down at the table, staring at the note. She stared at the note until the sky lightened and the rain stopped, until the rumble of the Impala filled her ears and headlights flashed through the window, pulling her from dark thoughts. They were back.

She braced herself as the door opened, and she watched Dean walk in. She knew Sam was standing just out of sight, but he didn't come inside. Dean walked over to her and crouched down to look up at her. "Hey", she said. Her throat was still sore, and her voice was hoarse.

"Hey", Dean smiled at her. He glanced at the door and cleared his throat before looking back at her. "We killed the witch. I know you wanted to do it, but we cornered him, and it was the only way to break the curse".

"He's dead?" She looked into Dean's eyes, and all she could see was uncertainty. He had no idea how she was going to react or what was going on inside her head.

"He's dead. You were right, he cursed Sam in that first nursing home. Sam didn't remember it until we killed the witch. And uh..", he glanced at the door again. "And Sam should be back to normal, but we can't really test that without you".

"Yeah", she took a shaky breath. "He hurt me".

"I know. If you don't want to test it today, we don't have to. I won't leave you alone with Sam until you're ready, okay?" He gently squeezed her knees and she nodded her head.

"I want to try it now".

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. He could see Sam fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, trying to listen. "Are you sure?" Dean asked her.

"Yes. You can tell him he can come inside".

Before Dean could even call Sam, he stepped inside. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, desperately wanting to run over to her and gather her up in his arms, but he knew he couldn't. He suddenly felt more clear-headed than he had since the first nursing home. It was like he'd been in some sort of trance, and now he could remember everything he'd said and done to [Y/N] while they'd been alone. "Hey", he said.

"Hi", she said back.

"How do you want to do this? Want me to leave now or do you want me to stay for a bit first?" Dean asked, standing up from his crouching position.

"You can leave now, but can you just stay outside and not go anywhere?" She asked, and Sam nodded in agreement, scared of himself now too.

"Of course. I'll be right outside if you need me". He leaned down to kiss the top of her head before he walked over to Sam and patted his back. He left the room, and for a few moments neither Sam or [Y/N] moved.

"I don't feel... angry or anything", Sam said, his voice slightly shaky.

"That's good", [Y/N] nodded. 'Do you.. um.. feel like you're annoyed at me?"

"No", Sam shook his head. "I only feel love for you". He clenched his jaw in anticipation of what [Y/N] had to say to him. He was extremely anxious that she was about to break up with him and tell him that she never wanted to see him again. He never wanted to see himself again now that he remembered everything he'd done.

[Y/N] let out a cautious sigh of relief. "Sam-".

"[Y/N] I am so sorry", he blurted out, and for the first time, she looked him in the eyes and saw tears threatening to spill over. He was her Sam again. "I... I have no idea how to fix it, I love you, please believe me that I never would have hurt you if I wasn't cursed".

"I know. I knew there was something wrong with you, I knew you would never want to hurt me. I'm not angry with you, and I still love you". She gave him a small smile, but she could feel a lump in her throat as she swallowed back her nervousness.

"Thank you", he took a step towards her, but she flinched back and he froze in his spot.

"Sorry", she mumbled, looking down. "I do still love you, but I need some time. You... cursed you", she corrected herself, "tried to kill me last night".

"You're right", he took a step back again. "Yeah, you take all the time you need, and when you.. I mean, if you want to be around me again, I'll be here".

"Thank you. I've missed you a lot. And thanks for killing the witch, I've been hunting him for so many years, I can't believe he's finally dead".

"He won't be hurting anyone else. Or cursing anyone else", Sam added. He walked over to the door and opened it, signalling for Dean to come back in.

"All good?" Dean asked as he stepped inside, and both Sam and [Y/N] nodded. "Great!" Dean clapped his hands together. "How about getting some food? On me", he winked at [Y/N] and she smiled, getting up to walk over to them but still keeping a distance between her and Sam.

***

[Y/N] kept her distance for the next few weeks. She continued to sleep in her own room, though not very well as her nights were often accompanied by nightmares of Sam trying to kill her. She still spent more time with Dean and kept to herself a lot, but she had begun warming up to Sam more. She no longer flinched whenever he moved suddenly, or whenever he got too close. She no longer hurried to leave a room whenever he walked in. It was a painfully slow process, for both of them, but it was getting better. Sam respected her space, but was no longer too anxious to make small talk with her over breakfast, or discussing something with her while researching.

It was a cool, early morning when [Y/N] woke up from her first night's sleep that went without a nightmare. She felt refreshed and relaxed for the first time since the curse. She took her time getting up, enjoying the warmth under her covers before starting the day. When her stomach started to rumble, she pushed her covers back and quickly slid into her slippers and wrapped her dressing gown around herself. She strolled to the kitchen and paused in the doorway. Sam was at the sink, washing up. She leaned against the doorway and watched as he worked, and she felt no anxiety or fear as he stepped back for a moment to shake his hands dry and grab another mug to clean.

"Hey", she finally said, and he looked around at her.

"Hey, good morning". He smiled and nervously tucked his hair behind his ear, getting it wet in the process. [Y/N] giggled at him and his cheeks turned pink as he turned back around to turn the water off. She took a deep breath and stepped down into the kitchen. She walked over to him as he was drying his hands, and wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking herself into his side. He lifted his arm up and looked down at her, and not being able to help the smile spreading across his face, he lowered his arm down around her shoulders. She took a deep breath, his familiar scent bringing back memories of the two of them cuddling up together, and she relaxed into him. He turned so that she was in front of him, and he brought his other hand up to thread his fingers through her hair, holding her to his chest. He leaned his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. His heart was beating quickly, but it was out of excitement instead of worry. "This is nice", he breathed out, and he felt her nod and tighten her grip around his waist.

"Do you have plans for today?" She asked, looking up at him and leaning her chin against his chest. He looked down at her and shook his head. "Can we just hang out today? Maybe watch a movie or something?"

"Yes. Of course, whatever you want to do, I'm here".

"Sam?"

"Yeah Sweetheart?"

"Can you kiss me?"

He smiled as he leaned down, and she leaned up on her toes to meet him halfway. The kiss was gentle, and neither of them could help but moan into it. [Y/N] slid her hands up to Sam's shoulders, while he let his hands drop down to her waist. When they broke away, [Y/N] could see nothing but adoration in his eyes. "I really missed you", she said.

"I love you [Y/N]. The witch gave me an insight into what it would be like to lose you, and I never want it. I don't want to feel like I have over the last few weeks again, and I never want you to be afraid of me again. I promise that I will love you and keep you safe for as long as I live". There was no hint of uncertainty in his voice, he meant every word.

"I love you too". She said, meaning every word too.

The end

Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

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caassette · 11 months

Text

been on tumblr less than a week and already Trans Discourse is on my timeline front page dash...

idk i kind of just feel like...there are actual real threats right now in the world to all trans people, and like. trying to create in-groups and out-groups within the community is the most braindead thing you can do

they are killing us. they want us dead. any time you try to segregate one fraction of the queer community from another, their job gets a little easier. let me give you an example that happened recently in Texas while I was living there:

June 2022: Log Cabin Republican Praises Trump, "Don't Say Gay", Trans Hate

Also June 2022: Texas GOP's New Platform calls gay people "abnormal"

Log Cabin Republicans are essentially gay conservatives. And as part of trying to be accepted, under Trump, they decided trans people were the out-group and that gay people (specifically, white cisgender gay men) were the in-group.

If I had to guess, they probably figured so long as they also pointed the finger at us and called us groomers and said we were fetishists, they would be more accepted in the republican party.

Guess what happened? Not that! Instead, the Texas GOP, in 2022 (Two Thousand And Twenty Two) decided that being gay was once again Not Okay!

This is what I'm getting at: in queer spaces, always, always, there must be solidarity. There is no such thing as someone who is "not gay enough", or "not really trans", or "just looking for attention."

I, myself, am a binary trans woman. My current partner is a genderfluid transmasculine nonbinary person. Do I spend hours talking with them about how they do or don't face certain forms of oppression, or about how their identity is less valid than mine?

Of course not! We kiss and hold hands and fuck and have empathy for each other.

As a queer person it is YOUR RESPONSIBILITY to be one hundred percent accepting, validating, and encouraging of ALL QUEERNESS, because the second you decide to draw the line, the oppressor wins.

Maybe you're not a Log Cabin Republican. Maybe you're not advocating for trans genocide while being in a same-sex relationship. Maybe you just, idk, use the word "theyfab." Or you think pansexuals should "just call themselves bi."

It doesn't matter that the line you've drawn is farther left, or smaller, or excludes less of the community.

What matters is that you've drawn it at all.

#discourse #transmisandry #lgbtqia #inclusivity

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st4rb3rries · 9 months

Note

OMG I LOVED UR STAN AND KYLE BSF HEADCANNONS!! Can i req one with the main four, like what its like to be in a group w/ them?? have an amazing day <33

BEING IN A FRIEND GROUP WITH SOUTH PARKS MAIN 4

pairings; stan, kyle, kenny, cartman x fem!reader (all aged up 18+)

summary; chaotic friend group hc's!

warnings; cussing

a/n; hi and ty hope you have an amazing day too!!

key colors; blue= stan green= kyle orange= kenny red= cartman pink= reader

late night skate boarding with them. it's always cartman who texts you guys to go. in reality he only wants to go to just to start shit. in my opinion kenny is the best skater out of y'all. but cartman is the worst💀. "you guys you guys look im gonna go down the ramp!!" "cartman that isn't a good idea your not ready-" "WAAAAAHHHHH" laughter is coming out from you, stan, and kenny. kyle wants to laugh but he ain't risking it😭. "GAWDAMMIT KYLE IM BEAT YOUR J-" cartman stops himself because he knows damn well not to rip on kyle in front of you. so he switches up real fast 🙄. "you guys i seriously think i broke a bone" "whatever cartman you just switched up cause you know y/n would kick your ass" 5 minutes kenny is teaching you, stan, and kyle a trick. "ok so next you gotta-" "get a room lovebirds i mean come on🙄" "CARTMAN STFU!!" "yeah dude stay mad because your not psychically able to do any of this🥱" this all happens in less than 15 minutes, like why can't y'all just be a nice friend group😭. moments later stan was about to go off a ramp. UNTIL HIS WHEELS BROKE OFF THE SKATEBOARD. i wonder who unscrewed them..... "AAAUAGHHHHHH" "DON'T WORRY STAN I GOTCHU!!" and there he was, stanly marsh in your arms. "W rizz stan or nah😏" stan could feel his face heating up fr. "damn dude that should've been me not stan😔" "kenny shut the hell up💀" "wait a minute where's cartman he literally almost killed stan tf????" cartman isn't trying to get his ass kicked in front of people so he ditched and went home. classic cartman.

karaoke night. you guys are definitely singing 2000's songs. but it always seems like you guys get interrupted no matter what. karaoke night was started by cartman, which is so surprising?? "I WANNA HOLD'EM LIKE THEY DO IN TEXAS, PLEASE" "FOLD'EM LET'EM HIT ME RAISE IT BABY STAY WITH M-" stan and kyle always hating cause you and cartman sound a little too good. "BOOO GET OFF THE STAGE" "YA MY EARS ARE BLEEDING" "OH FUCK OFF GUYS LET US SING" "you guys have been singing this same song for 2 hours bruh😭" "2 minutes kenny get it right" they just hating cause they can't handle real talent. sometimes when the karaoke gets intense you guys act like judges for americas got talent💀. "is this kenny mccormick from south park colorado?" "yes" "and what will you be doing today?" "YOUR MOM AHAHA" "disqualified poor people can't seem to have talent" "CARTMAN WTF" "NEXT" "no wait i'll sing with him" "oh god" if kyle and stan think you and cartman sound a little too good. JUST WAIT UNTIL THEY HERE YOU AND KENNY. "THIS ONE IS FOR THE BOYS WITH THE BOOMIN SYSTEM" "TOP DOWN AC WITH THE COOLER SYSTEM" super bass by nicki minaj is y'alls go to song. every time you guys finish that song your out of breath and laugh so much😭. "AND THE CROWD GUYS MILD🔥" "NEXT" "cartman we are done playing americas got talent" "dude let me and kyle sing next we haven't sung at all🥹" "fine" "ah hell nah it better not be anything emo💀" *30 seconds later every one starts singing* "BUT IM A CREEP" "IM A WERIDO" "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOIN' HERE" "I DON'T BELONG HERE" suddenly the tv, microphones, and speaker goes out?? "LISTEN UP BITCHES IM NOT HAVING AN ALCOHOLIC, A JEW, A FATHERLESS DAUGHTER, AND A HOMELESS POOR BOY SING RADIOHEAD AT MY HOUSE‼️‼️" guess who got jumped that night🤔???

#south park #south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park x you #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #eric cartman x reader #stan marsh x y/n #kyle broflovski x y/n #kenny mccormick x y/n #eric cartman x y/n

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

Text

When Nico asks him out, there is vomit on his scrubs. His hair is disgusting. The bags under his eyes are actually the size of Texas, and he was born there so he says it in good confidence.

Also, it goes right over his head.

“Gods, yeah,” Will sighs, relieved. “Yeah, I could —” He laughs, a little hysterically, scrubbing his hand over his face and trying to blink the sudden onslaught of dizzy away. “I’m starving. I am — tired of this stupid room. I could use dinner out.”

“Great,” Nico says, rocking back on his heels. He twists his skull ring around his finger, like he does when he’s nervous, but there’s a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth that Will has learned, in the past few weeks of his help in the infirmary, is a smile. “I’ll — um, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Will glances down at the rapidly-drying splatter of vomit spreading from his right shoulder all the way down to his belly button. The nasty brown-yellow colour of it clashes so violently with the mint-green of his scrubs that it might be a felony, actually. The one whole spaghetti noodle smack in the middle of it does not help.

“Yeah, I’ll need at least that long in the shower.”

Nico’s face goes through a very complicated string of emotions. “I think you look nice,” he offers.

“You and I have very different definitions of ‘nice’, di Angelo,” Will snorts. He gestures behind him. “Bye, Nico. I’ll see you in a few hours?”

“Right. Bye, Will.”

“Hey, first name status!”

“Shut up, Solace. Go change your shirt.”

Will snickers, jogging down the Big House stairs with a backwards wave. He hustles past campers jogging towards their daily activities, ducking into the Apollo cabin before someone can ask him for something.

It’s been a busy few weeks.

The Giant War was…well. It’s over, now, is the point, but it was not without casualties, and it was not without injury, and injury, and injury. Plus the flu that just had to hit right before the Romans were about to head back to California. Will has spent more nights in the infirmary in the last few weeks than he ever has, including after the Titan War. Understaffed does not begin to cover it. He had to beg Cecil for his secret Redbull stash after his third straight day on his feet, praying to his father, his aunt, and any other god who was listening to keep his hands from shaking. Without Nico’s help — well, he doesn’t want to think about how things would have gone without Nico’s help.

He’d slept through his promised three days in the infirmary. Will had restitched his werewolf scratching (—his werewolf scratches his fucking werewolf scratches his fucking shitting goddamn werewolf scratches that he stitched with sewing thread and left for gods know how many days and Will is going to quit his job, he is, he is going to live in a hut in the Florida Everglades and chase questers away with a fucking broom—) as he slept on the first day, then spent the next days glaring at him in seething jealousy.

He had wanted to sleep. He had wanted to sleep so godsdamn badly. And yet. He was plastering salve on the translucent fingers of a dumbass who pushed himself too hard.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Will had mocked, ignoring the yelled you’re losing it, Willy! from Kayla as she passed by. “Nyeh nyeh nyeh. I can shadow travel wherever I want. Nyeh nyeh nyeh. Catch me I’m about to pass out. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”

“I never asked you to catch me,” muttered Nico, groggily, and Will had screamed.

Not his best moment.

Luckily, his string of colourful cursing had killed any idea that Will was scared of him, or something, and the list of chores he’d doled out the second he made sure Nico could walk had put the idea in the grave.

He still can’t quite believe that Nico actually, like…listened. But he’s a good bandage cutter (very accurate) and, as a super fun bonus, the Romans were all scared of him, so when they tried to get out of their cots while their limbs were literally hanging onto them by a thread, Will just had Nico stand behind him and glare at them until they sat their asses back down.

(“You are without a doubt the best nurse I’ve ever had,” Will had grumbled, sticking his tongue out at Austin, who lazily tried to trip him. Nico had rolled his eyes, huffing as if he thought Will was joking.)

“Wow,” says Cecil, sitting in Will’s bed for some reason. He rakes his eyes up and down his body, whistling appreciatively at the towel around his waist. Will rolls his eyes and starts digging through his dresser drawers. “Look at you! So human-like! No zombie eyebags to be seen!”

“Showers don’t erase eyebags, dick for brains.”

“True, but you’re so hot when you’re not covered in blood and vomit that I can overlook them.”

“Kiss my ass, Cecil.”

“Really? Is that permission?”

Will laughs, admitting defeat. He tugs on a pair of boxers, then tosses a few clothing options on his bed.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s good to be out, Zeus’ beard. Nico’s taking me to dinner; d’you know if it’s cold in the city? And I should probably wear real shoes, right, Annabeth mentioned something about New York bacteria —”

“Woah, woah, hold on, William, pause there for a second.”

Will looks up, frowning. “What?”

“Nico’s taking you to dinner?”

Cecil’s eyes are wide. Reflexively, Will pats his chin, paranoid he’s got something on his face.

“…Yes? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing! Nothing, nothing.” Quickly, Cecil schools his face back to its usual smirk, leaning casually against the bedpost. (He misses. Mercifully, Will decides to let it slide and wait for him to straighten himself. He’s a good friend, like that.)

“Well, obviously something.”

“Nope! I’m just —” He softens. “I’m glad you’re taking a break, Willy. We’ve been worried about you. Remind me to send him a lock pick set.”

“Most people send fruit,” Will suggests gently. He cuffs Cecil playfully on the jaw, rolling his eyes when Cecil catches his hand and presses a loudly exaggerated kiss to it. “Or flowers. Also, don’t call me Willy.”

“Sorry, Willy.”

“Gods, you’re infuriating.”

“Mhm. And yet you adore me. Oou, wear the grey plaid shirt, it makes your eyes look bluer. And for the love of Hermes, do not wear shorts.”

———

At seven o’clock sharp, there’s a knock on the doorframe.

“Uh, hi?”

“Nico!” Will says brightly. “Hi! You don’t have to wait by the door, dorkus. Come in.”

With a second of hesitation, Nico steps in. The usually creaky floorboards are silent under his black Chucks. Will chooses to believe that’s on purpose, because it’s cooler.

“You can sit if you want! Unless we gotta leave right away. I wasn’t actually sure, are we just going to McDonald’s or something? Also, I told Cecil he couldn’t come, I figured three would make it a party or something but lemme know if we’re bringing friends along and —”

“We’re not,” Nico interrupts.

“—tell them.” Will blinks at him, then smiles. “Just you and me, then.”

Nico clears his throat. “Yeah.” He glances up at Will, and away again, like he can’t hold his gaze for too long. He looks a little flushed. “You, uh. You braided your hair.”

“What? Oh!” Will touches the French braids on either side of his head, smiling. “Yeah, I finally had the time. Keeps my hair back better than much else. Hey, Nico, you good? You looked flushed, maybe you should —”

Nico catches his hand. He smiles.

“I’m fine, Solace. You just look nice, is all.”

Will snorts. “No kidding. Anything’s better than the vomit shirt.”

———

Nico refuses to answer any of his questions about where they’re going.

Or, well. Will asks him and endless string of questions and receives only hums or nods in response, except for the odd huff of laughter when Will pouts.

“C’mon! Can’t I just know where we’re going?”

“You’re about to.”

“I mean now, Death Breath.”

“Well, now I’m definitely not telling you.”

“Ugh.”

Nico places a fleeting hand on his elbow as they reach the base of Half-Blood Hill, stalling him.

“Wait.”

Will pauses, listening. His heartbeat picks up. Monster? Monsters?

He glances over at Nico, noticing the tension in his face, the twist to his mouth, the —

Oh, no he doesn’t.

“Hold it, Gerard Way!”

Nico startles.

“What?”

“I know that face! You are not shadow-travelling us to the city, no way, no how, do you want to dissolve —”

“Will,” Nico interrupts, laughing softly, “Will, trust me for a second. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Nico blinks. Will flushes.

“That was fast.”

“Well! Well.”

“I’m not shadow-travelling,” Nico promises, changing the subject when it’s clear Will has nothing to say. “I’m just summoning our ride. I promise it won’t drain me.”

“…Fine.”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Nico screws up his face again. The tiny freckles on the bridge of his nose are more obvious when he wrinkles it. Will has to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from touching them.

One moment, there’s nothing but empty road in front of them. The next, there’s a massive fucking limo, driven by what Will can only describe as a ghoul.

“There,” Nico says happily. “Our ride!”

He jogs over to the sleek black limo, leaving Will gaping. With a quick hand to keep the driver from getting up, he opens the back door, gesturing broadly.

“C’mon, Sunshine.”

Will recovers quickly. He’s never been in a limo before — hell, he’s hardly ever been in cars. He slides into the black leather seats, gaping, barely noticing Nico ducking in and closing the door behind him.

“Cleveland and Merrick, please, Jules-Albert.”

Limos are crazy.

If hotel mini bars were, like, physical places rather than tiny bottles in mini fridges, they would look like limos. The windows are tinted, so the interior is dark, illuminated a softly glowing red by strips of LEDs. There is an actual TV screen, although it’s not on. Will feels like James Bond.

“Gift from my dad,” Nico explains. “He knows he can’t always be there to drive me around, so he got Jules-Albert to take me places. He’s cool. He even answers to me, technically, and not my dad, so if anything happens back here he won’t snitch.” Nico gets so violently red he damn near goes invisible under the LEDs. “Not that — I mean, it’s more like —”

“That is so cool,” Will breathes. “Oh my gods, Nico, you are literally the coolest demigod in the world.”

“Hah,” says Nico weakly. The limo (!!) slows to a stop. “We are — here, let’s go!”

Nico practically throws himself out of the limo. Will takes one last look, thanks Jules-Albert, and hurries out after him.

———

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“What?” Nico looks at him defensively. The corner of his mouth twitches. “I thought it was pretty funny.”

Apollo Restaurant Diner, reads the garish, flashing yellow sign. Seniors half-off!

Will nudges Nico’s side as they walk in. “You should ask for the discount.”

“Keep it up and you’re paying for yourself, Solace.”

Nico guides them into a booth by the window before he can say anything. In seconds, a server is strolling up to them, popping their bubblegum and grinning.

“Welcome to Apollo’s, where if we don’t predict your order, it’s free! I’ll get you guys some sodas, and…hm. Fries to share, I think.”

They’re off, ponytail bouncing, before either of them can say anything.

“Well,” says Nico after a moment. “I guess we’re having fries.”

Will snorts. “You love fries. You love anything fried and battered, because there is nothing you love more than poor decision making.”

“Caught me, Solace.”

“Aw. I thought —”

Their server pops back in with their sodas, nodding as they thank them.

“— I thought I was bumped up to first name status! You called me Will earlier.”

Nico slurps obnoxiously at his cherry coke.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Did too!”

“Not a jury in the world will believe you, Solace.”

Will blows his straw wrapper at him. Nico barely dodges, laughing — a real, open laugh, where some of the guard drops from his shoulders, where his smile is wide enough to show his teeth, where his dark eyes cringe near shut.

“You’re so lame. Get your stupid straw wrapper away from me.”

Will feels like he doesn’t respond for ages, mesmerized by the crooked curve of Nico’s smile. There’s mischief in that smile, and oddly it makes shyness bloom in Will’s chest, it makes the tips of his ears red, makes him duck his head.

Will’s saved from trying to come up with a comment by the massive — truly gigantic — platter of fries set between them.

“Holy shit,” breathes Will, alarmed.

“Holy shit,” breathes Nico, eyes wide. The smile grows wider. “Holy shit!”

Will’s stomach growls. He’s reminded how truly hungry he is, and without another word, the two of them dig in.

They end up ordering another platter. Will theorizes that, in total, they eat at least seven whole potatoes.

“How many fries do you think is in one potato?”

“A yukon?” says Will. “Like, twenty-five, at least. Wait, hold on, pass me your napkin, lemme do the math.”

“Gods, you are such a nerd.”

Will loses count of how many times they refill their sodas. Too many. Camp food is usually very healthy — as head medic, Will has to set an example, but it’s just Nico, here. Will eats himself into a minor food coma and relishes in it. When Nico asks if he wants to order one of the giant milkshakes, he doesn’t hesitate.

“Duh. Strawberry.”

“Gross, Solace. Vanilla or nothing.”

“Basic ass bitch.”

“At least I’m not vying for strawberry!”

By the time Nico gets up to go get their bill, the sun has long since set. Will realises he forgot to put his watch back on after his shower, and has no idea what time it actually is.

“Nine-thirty ish,” Nico says, opening the limo door for him. “We’ll be back at camp at ten.”

Will grimaces. “Fuck. Will Jules-Albert chill overnight? If we try to go back to our cabins, the curfew harpies are gonna eat us.”

“Scared, Solace?”

Nico’s eyes are bright and teasing. Will wonders how the hell other campers find him so frightening — the little twitches of his mouth are so obvious. Some people are just oblivious.

“Of course I’m scared, you dickhead. What am I gonna do, sing a hymn until they go away?”

Nico snorts. “You worry too much. They’re afraid of me, you know. They’ll steer clear.”

“You have a lot of confidence in how much you scare people, which is crazy for someone who’s five eight.”

“Oh, piss off.”

Will grins. “Never.”

The drive back to camp feels shorter than it is. The limo’s seats are stupid comfortable, and Nico is a warm presence beside him, and more than anything, Will is exhausted. Last time he slept was — Thursday? He’s pretty sure? He definitely slept on Wednesday, and he’s pretty sure Kayla locked him in the back office with a pillow on Thursday. But maybe that was this morning.

“Will, hey.” A cool, calloused hand brushes over his forehead, and he leans into it, humming. “Get up, you loser. We’re here.”

Will groans. “Five more minutes.”

The soft, gravelly chuckles are the most musical things he’s ever heard. “Up you get, Sunshine, or I’ll let the harpies eat you.”

That gets Will up fast. He shoves Nico away, who’s still snickering at him, grumbling as he crawls out of the limo.

“It’s like you want me to die of stress.”

“Nah.”

They wave goodbye to Jules-Albert, who disappears in a blink. Halfway up the hill, a hand closes around his. Will glances over to Nico in surprise, but he looks resolutely ahead.

“I can feel you freaking out.” He clears his throat. “I told you, Solace. I’ll protect you.”

“That’s not what you said,” Will grumbles, but it’s hard to get his attitude across when his cheeks ache from smiling.

Nico ends up being right — the harpies steer clear of them. He looks very smug about being right, smirking all the way up to the Apollo Cabin door. He walks him up the creaking steps, pausing at the door. He lets go of Will’s hand, which is kind of a bummer. Will had liked holding his hand — physical proof that Nico was becoming more comfortable with him.

“So,” Nico says, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“So,” Will parrots, grinning. He grins wider at Nico’s scowl, gently illuminated by the soft glow of the Apollo cabin. “I had fun tonight, Nico. I needed that.”

Nico’s whole face softens. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Will smiles at him again. “Thank you.”

For a second, Nico’s slight smile melts into a more serious expression. Will finds himself lingering, searching Nico’s face. Waiting.

Quick as a dart, Nico leans up and presses a kiss to Will’s cheek.

“Oh,” Will breathes, eyes wide. His fingers come up and brush the spot Nico kissed, skin tingling.

Nico looks at him nervously. “Was that okay?”

It takes Will a solid few seconds to answer. Even then, it’s not any recognizable words — more of an embarrassing hnnnnngh wha.

Nico grins. “Goodnight, Sunshine.”

“Nico — wait.”

“Harpies, Sunshine.”

Will could swear he sees Nico’s shoulders shaking with laughter as he walks away. Which — huh! Pardon! Excuse.

“Nico! Was! Was this a date!”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Will.”

“Nico!”

Nico disappears down the bend without answering. Will manages to catch the curve of his smile before he goes.

He doesn’t sleep a wink.

282 notes · View notes

ay0nha · 1 year

Text

Lament of My Heart | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: “Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Set pre-episode four & post-episode five w/ moments of pre-outbreak

PAIRING: Joel Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

WARNINGS: SMUT (hand job), mentions of blood, mutual pining/slow burnish, skinny dipping (of sorts), canon-typical things, mentions of Tommy x reader, etc.

A/N: Need to post this before it sits in the drafts to collect dust. Joel is just on my mind all the time, so this is the product of that. Thank you as always @from-the-clouds for listening to my blabbering and entertaining all my ideas! Much love.

“No more questions, Ellie,” You reprimanded her lightly, trying to cover the warmth she was discovering you felt. “Get some rest.”

Ellie was a hard-headed person with the responsibility of society on her shoulders. She carried the weight well, but she was still human, still young. But her questions revealed her growing creativity and sharp wit.

“Not tired.” She hated Joel’s coffee, but the stolen sips still coursed through her veins. You knew it was partly due to the anxiety ahead of them. They all felt it, that tense air of the unknown. “You two don’t seem to get along, though.”

Your eyes flashed to the rear view mirror on instinct. Settled on the truck’s dirty cushions and the supplies being used as a pillow, Joel was asleep. But you weren’t sure how long it would last.

“Ellie-

“It wasn’t a question!” She defended quickly, toying with the edge of her sleeve. She’d been dying to know just exactly why you got under Joel’s skin the way you did. “Tell me about Tommy, at least.”

“Ask Joel.” Your eyes were everywhere. You checked the mirror as if there was traffic, but it was the only thing that kept you occupied. She was making you squirm.

“C’mon, you know he won’t-” Ellie’s own frustrations were building up. In her shoes, you’d be just as curious. “Please.”

Through a thoughtful sigh, you resigned, “Before-We just- We’ve known each other for a long time.” You’d been intertwined with the Miller brothers since before everything. You rarely said it aloud, and now, you struggled to put all the history into something coherent. “I met Tommy when he returned from deployment-

“In Texas?” Ellie hung onto every word, mind spinning tales faster than you could keep up with. “Were you in the military too?”

“I said no questions.”

The comment made her smile. Ellie always appreciated a good game. Loopholes were her specialty.

“Fine, then.” She settled in the passenger seat, knees to her chest as she faced you, “You were discharged with Tommy with more medals than you could count!” Her posture then changed with inventive excitement, “Or maybe a bad-ass sniper with too many confirmed kills to count.” You wished your life was as exciting as she made it sound. “You’re going to have to stop me before I start thinking you led an elite hit squad.”

“Close.” You quipped, “I worked on the military base in town.” It was the first job that hired you and offered some stability for someone your age. “I’d help get soldiers back on their feet once they returned…”

“Then you became friends with Tommy,” Ellie encouraged you to continue. She couldn’t stand the lulls.

Too many years passed for you to remember clearly how you became close to Tommy, but at the time, he considered you his soulmate. Not that either of you really knew what that meant.

“Then I became friends with Tommy.” You nodded. You kept your eyes steady ahead, adding, “Joel, too.” Glancing at Ellie, you finished, “Then we all just…stuck together.”

Separation wasn’t ever questioned, even on the eve of all the destruction. That memory was vivid; the way your bloodied body held onto Joel, dragging him away from it all, Tommy trailing behind, surveilling every move. It was how you moved together for years, protecting each other as much as possible.

“He doesn’t talk about it; before,” Ellie commented lowly. You knew she wished for more from Joel. But she couldn’t see what you saw in the way he softened for her.

“That hasn’t changed with time.” Your words felt too bitter. This time you indulged in a glance at Joel. Still settled. “I’m surprised he’s even talking to me now.”

You always described the Miller brothers as a whirlwind. They may not have necessarily meant it, but they had a knack for sweeping you up and consuming you. When Joel came to you with Ellie, there was no question of whether you would help or not, just when and where you were needed.

He’d never leave without you.

“Tell me something about them...” Ellie pleaded. She was a clever girl who picked up on the weight of his misery. But it wasn’t yours to share. “Before they…before this.”

Your shoulders relaxed while your hands moved to the bottom of the steering wheel as you allowed yourself to filter through only the fond memories.

“Alright, well…” You hesitated with your words. Only because you knew, Joel would tell the story differently. “He and Tommy were wasted…I mean…Absolutely hammered that night.”

Your words had their desired effect, and Ellie’s giggles encouraged you to continue. But it felt strange to make Joel’s drinking habits sound so lighthearted when you know how the habit haunted him now.

“Tommy called me.” The phone in Joel’s kitchen woke you up that night well past the witching hour. “The brothers always got into all kinds of mischief, usually Tommy's fault.” You were typically by his side, provoking him. “Always Tommy’s fault.”

“He sounds fun.” Ellie joined in. You knew in another world, the two would get up to all kinds of mischief if they had the chance.

“He can be, when he wants.” You glanced at the map on your lap. With the sun getting low, it meant you needed to find a safe place to stop soon. “That night, though, the two of them had the bright idea to pretend to be bouncers, only to get into a fight with the actual ones.”

“I knew Joel wasn’t a total hard-ass.”

As you continued to retell the story, you hadn’t realized how much nostalgia you carried with you. Nor were you able to see how you talked so warmly of Joel. Ellie knew exactly what to say to get the information she wanted. But you waited a long time to reminisce freely.

“...When I finally got them home,” You blew a raspberry at the unforgettable effort it took. The stench of alcohol and smoke still made your nose scrunch. “Thank god Tommy had enough sense left to make it to the couch.”

Ellie loved how you teased Joel’s hiccuping that he blamed it on being over-served tequila. It was hard even to imagine he had any of that humor left in him. You embellished the story just enough to entertain yourself. But the story's core provided fertile ground for understanding that nothing you added was too far-fetched.

“They remembered nothing the next morning,” You said. “Tommy found all these numbers written on his arm, said he’d close his eyes and pick which to call.”

“....And Joel, he must have been so hungover…”

“You’d think…” You reflected flatly. “He just got up and went to work.”

From your side, you knew Ellie could sense you holding back. She’d gotten more than she asked for, so she left it. She could see how the echo of that night still felt fresh, doubting you provided her with the detailed ending you lived.

----

“You alright?” The question was slowly processed by Joel, who was trying to steady his breathing before the contents of his stomach came up.

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel held onto you every step, arm slung over your shoulders, making you sway with him with each step to his room.

He was mumbling while you settled him on the edge of his bed. You got every few words while focusing on preparing him for the next day. The brothers had work, and doing this would save you the headache of hearing their complaints.

“B-been thinkin’...” His Texan drawl was heightened as he slurred.

“That so?” You half-heartedly replied, rummaging through his medicine cabinet. You looked for something for the morning.

“Mhmm…”

You could hear him shuffling around in his room. Assuming he’d been pulling his boots off and discarding his jacket, you were surprised to find him leaning on the bathroom’s door frame.

“Then you’ve been hanging around Tommy too much.”

“Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

You still held love for Tommy, but you had mistaken it for something that it wasn’t. The two of you functioned better as friends; you were his confidant and partner in crime. Neither of you would change that for the world.

“And you do?”

Your relationship with Joel had a natural ebb and flow that could be but never got to the point of being volatile. But that didn't stop you from stepping on each other's toes, constantly being on the brink of an argument that neither of you knew the point of.

“Darlin’...” You melted his resolve, helping him the way you were. Joel’s eyes flickered down. Nothing about your outfit was seductive, but the way his eyes loitered told you maybe it had been. Covering his tracks seamlessly, Joel continued, “...The things you deserve.”

Your laugh bounced off the bathroom walls, resonating deep within Joel’s chest.

"What?" Joel asked lightly, his smile starting to mirror yours, but not understanding why, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Shit, Joel,” Your laughter lingered, “You must be really drunk.”

“C’mon now.” He tried to stop you. He wasn’t sure he could handle any level of ridicule from you.

But you pushed passed him, drawing his sheets back for the night to be over, “Let’s just get you to bed.”

He stumbled to you willingly, but you could see his mind turning. There was something he wanted off his chest, but you knew you weren’t ready to hear it.

“Come on now, Miller,” You tried again. “We’ve both got work in the morning.”

“What is it you do again?” Joel’s words played with chords of tension. “Besides eat all my food and sleep on my couch.”

"Get by." You joked more for your sake than his.

Joel’s eyes shifted between your own, pupils entirely dilated. Blaming it on the alcohol helped settle your stomach.

“I know y-you don’t stick around for my benefit.”

"God forbid we enjoy each other's company, Joel." Your eyes burned into his. You enjoyed your ability to make him bashful in his stupor. Just a look, and he was crumbling.

You saw it coming. You could have stopped it, but it wasn’t even the length of a decent kiss. It was soft and fleeting because you pulled back to never speak of it again. You doubted Joel remembered, but you could never be sure what he’d admit to.

----

“Did you ever-

“Ellie…” You said her name slowly in warning.

She retracted fast, “Joel and you-

“No.”

Your answer came off harshly. You knew where she wanted to go; she’d circled the topic for hours.

“Can I ask one question?”

“That was a question.” You looked at her again pointedly, “Shoot.”

“Why’d you stay in Boston?”

Sitting with the statement, you focused on the road. Most around you was barren and destroyed but offered an unconventional peacefulness. Sometimes you imagined if you’d be better off in isolation than in a QZ. But you could never bring yourself to just disappear like that.

“As hard as you might try,” You started, pulling the car to the side, “You can’t be alone in this world. With a purpose or not, it just doesn’t work.”

The sudden sway of the car disturbed the sleeping figure in the back. Joel attempted to hide his jolt as he sat up but was already looking out the window for trouble.

“We stoppin’?” Joel’s voice filled the car while the engine cooled.

Joel looked to you for reassurance. Ellie pointed that out to you, the way he valued you despite his resentment.

“We’ve gotten far enough today.” You tossed the keys back to him. “We need food and rest.”

“Alright.”

Your exchanges were clipped.

Yet, you valued the journey with Ellie. Selfishly, the task provided a reason to see Joel again. It had become easier to spend time apart. It became a habit. But even with a quiet meal shared and conversations led by Ellie, it felt good to be with him again.

The pressure shifted. No longer were ration cards on your mind, nor were the curfews you struggled to follow. Something about the night felt freeing despite the heavy responsibility that it meant. Maybe it was the privilege of feeling safe with Joel since he created a protective bubble, sacrificing his rest for yours.

You heard Joel get up when he thought yours and Ellie’s breathing steadied. You were going to leave it, but sleep was hard to come by with your mind racing.

Joel saw your shadow first. But the hand that brushed between his shoulder blades still made him flinch. He spoke in hushed tones, looking to ensure that Ellie was still asleep, “I hope you didn’t come over here to tell me we’re safe.”

“Didn’t say that.” You frowned. He knew you well; you wore your concerns on your face. You just wished he didn’t hold such defiance for them. “But we’ll be alright for the night-

“Don’t.”

Joel wanted to be in control of everything down to the smallest detail.

You knew it was a way of coping, his way, but it never sat right with you. Especially now, as you watched Joel scrutinize the area you chose, you could feel the criticism he was holding back from the moment you parked the car.

Did you even survey the terrain?

Too much open space. No clear route out.

You know better than this.

“We’re the perfect targets.”

“Joel-

“We know how this works,” He voiced over you. Even with you there, his surveillance didn’t change as he remained on a swivel. “It was exactly what we did.”

Joel’s emotions were catching up, but he still held onto a forced restraint. He was expecting resistance, an argument from you. But you heard what he said, how Ellie needed to hear it, to believe him.

No one’s gonna find us.

It was a promise. Something Joel was determined to control.

The wind was picking up the later the night became, and any rustle was faced with a gun barrel. It caused chills to litter your arms out of apprehension. You tried to comfort yourself with your arms tucked to your chest, but it only shifted Joel’s attention.

If you tried hard enough, you could guess what he would say to you. We need to stay sharp. You could feel Joel’s hesitation, though. It happened every time he pushed you away.

There was merit to your diversion, but Joel only allowed it for so long.

“Get some rest.” He nodded toward his forgotten sleeping bag, “No good if both of us are tired.”

----

The car was gone. The brief companions too. Your heart felt permanently caught in your throat. Adrenaline replaced everything. But it was wearing you thin.

“Where are you going?” Respite clung to Joel’s question as his eyes followed your figure up from his crouched position.

Like a cat, you stretched until something deep within your spine popped. You moved towards the shore of the small body of water you all settled by.

Time was at the forefront of Joel’s mind. Time was no longer on your side, meaning the sooner, the better pressured every minute. Daylight became the most valuable thing. And by the looks of it, you were on your way to wasting it.

“We smell, Joel.” You state as you discard the knife strapped around your waist. You were meant to be cleaning them in the water, preparing them for the next fight the way he had.

But your body was sore. You could imagine the pain Joel felt was much worse, physical or not. He put his body first rather than having you or Ellie be the brunt of it all.

Mornings were sacred to you. It was when the birds sang at dawn because the crisp, moist air carried their songs and their meanings farther through the same air that filled your lungs in fluid refreshment.

You pulled your shirt over your head and looped your thumbs in the waistband of your pants as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs.

For the moment, Joel’s eyes lingered. He looked for bites. He knew he wouldn’t find anything, but he had to be sure. Instead, Joel found deep hues of bruises still healing from Kansas City.

Almost wholly above the horizon, the sun highlighted the mist rising off the body of water. It veiled your body the closer you were to where the water and the rocks met. Yet, Joel watched on until your arms maneuvered behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra.

As if the sun was directly in his eyes, Joel looked up, avoiding seeing something that wasn’t meant for him. Except, it didn’t stop him from passing along a warning, “Don’t go out far.”

The dirt from the past days felt like a second layer of skin had embedded into your own, suffocating you. You finally waded into the freezing water to rid yourself of it.

But not before throwing a comment over your shoulder, “Join me, then.”

Your words were like an idle threat that was only met with silence. You knew he was contemplating the offer. Always thinking.

The water was cold, goosebumps littering your skin within minutes and creating peaks where Joel refused to look. He scolded himself for the way his cock twitched at just the idea.

You leaned back so you were nearly floating on your back. Above, a bird glided hypnotically in a wide circle. It seemed you weren’t the only one seeking to rid yourself of a sense of weariness. The cool water swallowed you whole, caressing your skin and relaxing your muscles.

“Someone’s gotta stay with Ellie.” Joel voiced his decision. It was an excuse, what he was supposed to say.

There was no point in fighting it. Instead, you submerged yourself completely; the water consumed you. The longer you stayed under, the closer Joel edged to the water, ensuring you’d come up for a breath.

When you finally reemerged, you held a wicked grin.

“Don’t do that.” Joel frowned at your teasing. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding your eye. The rocks seemed more fascinating than how you became more siren-like by the minute. “I’m gonna find Ellie.”

“She deserves some privacy.” Despite her continuous puns, you were receptive to the fact that she was still impacted.

You all were.

Hyper vigilance became the enemy that threatened to consume Joel whole. Sleep was no longer negotiable. Every movement dragged worry, invited agitation, and controlled his violence. Joel’s chest was tight, and breathing felt hard to come by. He was moments away from unraveling.

“...There won’t be another invitation, Joel.”

Joel’s loaded gaze burned right through you as he took off his clothes. While he was busy shrugging out of his shirt, you took the opportunity to tread out further. Your back was to him, but you heard the swishing of disturbed water.

You reveled in the way your skin burned for him. He’d seen you naked years ago. But not like this, never like this.

----

Joel’s eyes followed the curve of your body. Your chest swayed as you moved around freely. His pounding heart clocked how too much time had passed for him to sneak out. He was frozen.

“You’re not Tommy.” You let out a breath of relief despite your surprise.

The lace rode high on your hips, accentuating your natural curve. Your chest was perked at the sudden attention of being caught so bare. Regardless of the incessant ringing in your ears, you stayed stone still, giving him a chance to say something.

Yet, he shook his head, backing out the door he’d come through, mumbling expected apologies. Joel used the key under the fern and let himself in.

For days he’d been asking Tommy for his tools back. And now, they were forgotten with each hurried step.

You threw on the closest shirt, chasing after him. “Wait!”

“I didn’t mean to-

“Joel, let me explain-

“No, I shouldn’t have-I-I’ll just-”

You found a way to stand before him, blocking his escape route perfectly. “Let’s just slow down…” Your hands were up in defense, mirroring his own. “It’s not what you think.”

Of all people, you wanted Joel to hear you. But the silence was heavy and lacked a proper explanation. You could see the flush that took over his coloring. It was sweet in a way, but you were too mortified to know what to make of it. It wasn’t exactly taught how to handle these sorts of things in school, so you stalled.

“Can I make you some coffee?” An invitation to linger.

Joel looked at you and saw your bare feet moving toward him with hope. He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes scanned your bare legs; the picture of the intricate fabric underneath the oversized shirt made his skin prick. It took him a moment to realize the shirt was his, one Tommy most likely nicked under his nose.

Doubting you knew what that did to him, Joel shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“One cup.” You promised.

The air was tense when you made it to the kitchen. You insisted on a fresh pot, but the drops felt like they took ages to fill it enough for its purpose. The hem of the shirt skirted the boundary of indecency, but you thought nothing of it. Your focus was on the longing stare Joel was giving you.

“Tommy and I…” You started with a shaky breath. You were sure Joel knew all about the drifting relationship. “I thought maybe this would…” It felt strange explaining yourself the way you had. But you wanted it to be known that even to you, it felt out of character. “He doesn’t look at me the same anymore…”

Your words feigned a sense of yearning. But neither you nor Tommy could keep up the act. Your words seemed heavy, but it was so alleviating to say aloud. To be listened to.

But the smell of coffee pulled you back, reminding you to be a good host. Filling the mugs just below the brim, you broke the small barrier of the kitchen island. You held the mug close to your chest, the warmth working as emotional support while Joel toyed with the ceramic handle.

You lifted the mug to your lips, blowing lightly over the piping-hot coffee, “...But neither do I.”

“I can talk to Tommy if you…” No matter how much it made Joel regret the offer, Joel said the right thing. He couldn’t meddle where he didn’t belong. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

You laughed into your mug. “I’d rather this stay our thing.”

“You say that like this is going to happen again.”

“Joel Miller.” You said his name after a pause. He looked like a child in trouble. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, no, I-

“Joking.” You cut in just as awkwardly as he flushed.

You wanted the mood to lighten, needed it to.

But there was clumsiness in every movement, between your ongoing jitteriness and Joel’s restless fidgeting. So, you moved to the window. On the sill held your half-empty carton of cigarettes, the ones you were trying hard not to touch these days.

With a soft glance back to Joel, you asked, “Mind if I?”

Joel could spot the influences of Tommy in you. Or maybe you had passed along your habits. Either way, it was your home of sorts. Who was he to tell you no?

You had such dexterity with the process. It was like a ritual how you rolled the cigarette over your lips before lighting it. Then after a deep exhale, you utilized the perpetually open window to tap the beginnings of ash.

“I don’t mean to drag you into all of this…” You trailed off through an exhale of smoke through your nose. Joel could see the appeal now. “I just don’t-…Tommy’s my friend, and if I…I don’t know what’ll happen if we’re not…”

The end of something always hurt everyone around you. You all were just playing your roles in delaying the inescapable. But the questions of the future haunted you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to let it all go.

“I’ll let you leave…” You toyed with the lit cigarette that was on its last limb as you spoke. Joel’s silence was becoming deafening. “Promise I won’t hold you up any longer.”

You were sure he had more pressing matters than to comfort you through an inevitable breakup.

“Tommy’ll get over it.” Joel sat back with more relaxation now that he spoke his mind. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

----

Joel kept his distance deliberately. He made the venture into the water seem like another task. In and out.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for too long. He knew what it meant to join you, but he made an effort to seem detached.

“Just giving you some privacy.” Joel echoed your words.

“Right.” Your frustration was clear. You carried it with you for the handful of days that passed. Your frustrations didn’t lie with him like Joel chose to believe.

Instead, guilt filled Joel’s chest. It had been gnawing at him since he left Boston. He should have left you there if he were as reliable as everyone claimed he was. You’d be without bruises. You’d be without his burden. Leaving without you meant there would be no return.

But you knew Joel. You had to remind yourself. You knew what he was thinking, what he wanted. That’s how you knew moving towards him would benefit the both of you.

You moved gradually, leading the interaction by brushing his hair behind his ears. The greys of his hair darkened with the water you carried on your fingertips. He looked younger. He looked like your Joel.

You reached for him, pulling him through the cool water to you. Joel was stiff when your chest met his warmly. He thought of pulling away, but you felt so peaceful that it swallowed him. Your arms wrapped around him with comfort. Your body settled in front of his, gently pressing your hips against him, giving him only an ounce of pressure to entice him.

He noted every twitch. Shyness wasn’t questioned; that barrier was broken years ago. It enabled you to trace his face. Every detail was already committed to memory.

You imagined what he’d say to you all those years ago—anything to make a smile crack.

Careful, now.

All you’re gonna find is a whole lot of ugly.

The scar above his eyebrow marked when your feelings for Joel first latched on. You were blinded by anger then, but the blood scared you. He promised you it was a graze and that he still had his life. But that wasn’t enough proof for you.

When your thumb traced over the faint line, Joel finally found his voice again, “Your shooting’s still sloppy.”

The look Joel held was intimidating, scrutinizing, but you knew he was trying to be witty.

“See now, when you say things like that…” You whispered softly due to the proximity, “I don’t regret shooting you.”

He hummed, appreciating your touch that ventured to his shoulders. You could feel under your hands the tension he held. You wanted nothing more than to provide relief.

“Joel.”

Just his name made your desire clear. He wanted to touch you all those years ago, but he’d never betray his brother like that. But now you invited him to you without any barriers. There was hesitancy in the hold Joel found on your hips. His mind wandered; wavered between the need and the want.

Starting at the swirl of hair on his chest, you followed the trail down until Joel’s breath hitched. Joel felt like he was about to lose it when your hand wrapped around him.

“This feel okay?” You moved your hand against him, slow and soft.

Water dripped from his nose to your shoulder as he nodded eagerly. His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your own. You tread in dangerous territory but recognized the privilege of his trust.

This was for Joel. You needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t worry if it functioned as a thank you for keeping you alive, an apology for the trouble you’d caused him, or a confession of your own.

It didn’t matter when you indulged in your own lust.

“Do you think of me when you’re on your own?” You asked, fingers wrapped around his shaft, squeezing him until you felt his pulse in your grip.

“Oh- Fuck-” He cut himself off before he let a pet name slip. Joel’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, imprinting his touch into your skin, burned to your very bone.

“Hmm?” You edged him further. Gently, you continued to pump him and move your thumb over his tip.

Joel’s ragged breath fell on your pulse point with each moan as you continued to pump him rhythmically. His hand came up to your throat in a tender hold. His lips hover over yours but refrained from connecting.

It would be too intimate if you had.

“Do you want me to?” The hold gave him dominance even as he shuddered under your touch. Always desiring control.

The water around you rippled with your continued movements. With his free hand, his thumb rubbed gently at the sensitive skin that was near the pebbles of your breast, but he made no effort to touch it just yet. His words and touch were a deadly combination, the kind that made you ache.

“Would that be so bad?” You spoke on his lips, feeling the tickle of his mustache. The more you worked on his release the more you felt his warm pants turn into deep moans. “Come on now, Miller,” You coaxed softly, moving up and down his length with a lively pattern, teasingly and tauntingly. “Tell me.”

Joel’s words were caught in his throat as ecstasy flowed through his veins as the pleasure crashed. His hips jerked against you as his breathing became ragged and his moans became filthy.

He sighed with relief, abandoning himself. He groaned into you, nuzzling his nose in your neck as the aftershocks made him tremble. He could feel your hand threading in his hair, keeping him in your tight embrace.

“Yes.”

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kairolee2004 · 4 months

Text

I feel like this would be impossible but— HEAR ME OUT!

Imagine if- as a young child, you lived in Texas and had a close friend that you would even consider your best friend. Thomas Hewitt..

And when your younger teenage years came around, your parents moved you out of Texas and all the way to England.

You live there still in your mid twenties and decided to get a job. A Nanny job to an English family by the name of the Heelshires. Of course you thought is was for a real child but it turns out the nanny job is to take care of a life-sized porcelain doll. The two parents tell you that the “doll” is named Brahams… Supposedly, the real Brahms perished in a fire 20 years ago, and he had apparently rejected several nannies prior to being introduced to you. As Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire leave for their vacation, you are given a list of rules to follow in regard to their son.

Turns out, the bastard wasn’t dead but better yet, living in the walls and stalking you. He had become obsessed and in love with you. How couldn’t he? You were so damn perfect and gorgeous… you needed to stay forever. He tried to keep you all to himself. But you got away with only one suitcase.

You tried to think of a place where you know Brahams would never think to try and look for you. Somewhere completely different from where you were right now… how about Texas?

Making your way all the way back to Texas, you decide that it wouldn’t hurt to see some old family. And head on over to the Hewitt family house. When you arrive, you of course see Luda may and charlie (Hoyt) but you don’t see Tommy anywhere. You ask about him to Luda May and she calls for him… you weren’t ready for what you saw.

Tommy wasn’t the same old little boy who was shorter than you, smaller than you, quieter than you- no.

This was a full grown ass man with 2 feet towering over you and more than 200 pounds of muscle to over power you. And when you say he was “quieter than you.” You meant it. As kids he didn’t talk much and now he still didn’t say a word. It was his eyes.. yelled and screamed with ruthlessness. His eyes seemed as if he saw stuff. They weren’t innocent like they used to be. If looks could kill, you would have dropped minutes ago.

Yet his actions spoke other wise. When he first saw you, he was stiff, kinda like when a bull walks around in a china shop. With the intention of not breaking something so precious and fragile. He didn’t want to break you.

Next thing you know, your body without mind, walks towards him and hugs him. He is stunned for a second before he engulfs himself around you. In a protective manner, a way of saying ‘I’m not letting you go…’

You felt off when you hugged him. Sure it was nice when you saw your childhood friend once more but then again… he wasn’t at the same time. This place was different, this family too. They all were dark souls that were covered with a normal family persona. It was wrong.

Luda May promised that you could stay one night and in the morning you could hit the road again. You felt no reassurance behind those words.

As you got ready for bed, you opened the one suitcase that you took from the Heelshire house, you were frightened… you had some clothes in there and some essentials but one thing was out of place. Brahams porcelain mask. You knew how much this mask meant to him… and he would do anything to get it back. Even if that meant going 4,669.21 miles just to get it back.

Later that night in the bedroom, as you were about to fall asleep, you heard blood curdling screaming coming from the basement. As you made your way down from your room, you saw a young woman burst through the basement door and she was covered with blood. Not far behind her, followed Tommy. He looked at the pathetic women, then at you. He looked terrifying… you didn’t move, only stared.

The young woman screamed at you for help, that was until Tommy revived his chainsaw and killed her with it. This couldn’t be real- right?

Reality hit when all of a sudden, Tommy came over to you and held the side of your face softly. And looked into your eyes. He didn’t want you to be scared of him.

You over lapped your hand over his and held it without saying a word. Slightly leaning into his touch. He helped you stand up and held the back of your head, with the other hand on the small of your back.

You let your head lean against his chest. This was wrong on so many levels… you both knew it. Yet it didn’t stop both of you. This was a silent moment needed.

Well… that was until you heard his voice again. The fear of which you knew was bound to come once more.

“(Reader), Why did you leave me?” Brahams child voice appeared right behind of Thomas. When he turned around, he was there. Brahams of course didn’t have his mask but rather yet, pieces of the porcelain dolls face glued together. It was a sight to behold.

Both men stared at each other… you couldn’t tell what they were thinking but you could definitely tell what was about to go down.

Oh no …

Could you imagine that?

I swear! These two men got me by the throat- ;/;

I absolutely adore these two masked men, and I mean come on how could you not!?! <333

#x reader #slasher fucker #slasher community #slashers headcanons #slashers #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #tommy hewitt #brahms heelshire x reader #brahams heelshire #slasher imagines #my obsession #daily thoughts #I LOVE THOMAS AND BRAHAMS!!!

241 notes · View notes

itsjustaninchident · 10 months

Note

I feel like an interesting prompt for Lando would be being with/meeting a girl he likes who isn’t an influencer or popular, just a regular girl who stays more private. (Me for example, a girl who lives in the middle of no where Texas, with a regular business office 9-5 job) lol

You Are in Love

Lando Norris x Interior Designer!Reader

socmed au

summary: seems like mclaren's driver is not available in the market anymore but the real question is, to whom?

warning/s: none

author's note: hello! I am so sorry for taking so long to respond to this request 😭 I didn't know how I would create this and I am still quite scared to take requests but here we are and I hope you enjoy it! A little warning I'm not very knowledgeable about America so I might have overlooked some things and I am sorry for that 😭 and also lmk~ I also chose interior designer as the career for the reader I hope you don't mind >< 🫶 Please request more!

Part 2

yourusername

Texas, USA

liked by yourbestfriend, yoursibling, and 129 others

yourusername another tiring week but at least i get to be a passenger princess hehe :)

view 10 comments...

yourbestfriend tell him to watch his back i CAN take you back 😏

yourusername dont worry bae im all yours 😉

yourfriend is this the london boy 🫢

yourusername well...

yourfriend when will we meet him👀

yourusername he's a little shy😆

yoursibling mom says she miss him more than u

yourusername i guess i have been replaced in the family now

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55, and 320,478 others

landonorris another normal but lovely week

view 1,093 comments...

user1 this is so out of character of him😭

user2 fr why is this kinda lowkey of him to do though👀

user3 am i thinking what you're thinking

user4 is he yknow the d word 😭

user7 okay pack it up people he can have a life that does not concern us at all

danielricciardo 🤠

user9 what's with the emoji

maxfewtrell when will u be back here

user5 oh OH

user6 since when are you interested in architecture 🧐

user6 trying to connect shit...

user7 no you're not go get a life

user8 baes take all your delusional asses elsewhere 😭

yourusername

liked by yoursibling, yourbestfriend, and 218 others

yourusername golf isn't as bad as i thought

view 2 comments...

yourbestfriend am i really about to lose you to some guy who drives in circles???

yourusername nah still urs babe 😆😘

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, pierregasly, and 530,789 others

landonorris golf kinda day

view 305 comments...

maxfewtrell you got beaten up bad...

landonorris she was just lucky

maxfewtrell sure...

carlossainz55 i guess ill replace you as my golf buddy

user1 why are his pictures so boyfriend coded lately?

yourbestfriend that's really a nice pic i wonder who took it? 🫢

yourusername 🤐

user2 the comments from max and carlos😭 who's able to beat this man in golf😭 i need to pay my respect

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, yourbestfriend, and 137 others

yourusername fun week in canada :)

view 6 comments...

yourbestfriend I should've went with you!

yourusername definitely! 😭 It will be so much more fun with u around luv :'(

lilymhe hope to see you again !

yourusername looking forward as well! I miss u alr 🫶

lando.jpg

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 834 others

lando.jpg canada you were fun 😏

view 1,456 comments...

user1 DID HE JUST HARD LAUNCH?!

user2 I AM NOT SO READY FOR THIS

user3 i genuinely think he has no idea what he posted....

user4 LANDO WHO'S THAT IN THE 3RD PHOTO

danielricciardo mate I think you're not supposed to post the 3rd photo...

carlossainz55 she will definitely kill him

maxverstappen1 im here for it

maxfewtrell so much for being lowkey

this post has been deleted

lando.jpg

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, and 234,598 others

lando.jpg canada you were fun 😏

view 5,405 comments...

user1 no way you're trying to gaslight us

user2 man really said nope not today

danielricciardo i saw nothing

carlossainz55 me too

maxverstappen1 me three

user3 twitter fans gonna have a field day with this 😭

to be continued...

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x oc #socmed au #f1 socmed au #f1 #fluff #lando norris au

776 notes · View notes

starrystormwritings · 9 months

Text

Something's Off

Master List <3 Request List <3 Criminal Minds Master List

Spencer Reid x Reader

A/n: Hey so I haven't written anything in over a year and this is my first criminal minds thing ever so any criticism is welcomed. This was written at 3am so any bad grammar or writing can be excused in my opinion lol. Please consider sending me some requests or ideas for anything on my request list, I'm desperate to get back to being active on here but I'm running low on ideas.

Summary: You and Spencer work at the BAU and after a lapse in Spencer's judgment you end up getting hurt.

Warnings: Murder, guns, shooting, stabbing, blood, hospitals, possible death, general criminal minds talk to gruesome murders

Word Count: 2669

(NOT MY GIF)

"There she is, we were starting to think you'd quit on us." Derek joked as me and Spencer walked into the briefing room hand in hand.

After a particularly long and emotional case I had decided to take some time to myself to recover from it.

It had only been a week but in this job that felt like years.

"Yep here I am, no need to worry. I know how much you all missed me." I said with a laugh while sitting down at the round table, Spencer going to grab our coffees.

"Can't argue with that, lover boy over there has been lost without you." Emily said with a laugh smiling at me.

Everyone else had taken their seats as Spencer sat next to me, sliding my coffee in front of me with an excited smile.

"Well as much as I wouldn't use the word lost I have missed having you around here." He blushed lightly, trying to speak in the least awkward manner as he could.

I knew he had missed me at work, everyday he came home to our apartment he'd be glued to my side explaining every detail of the case he'd just gotten back from, wanting to hear my opinions and spend time with me.

As much as hearing about work took away the point of taking time off from it watching Spencer ramble on passionately and excitedly to me was nice.

Plus if I'm being honest with myself I'd be bored without it.

"Six women have been found dead in a suburban town in Texas, all between the ages of twenty to thirty and have appeared within forty-eight hours of each other." Hotch explained whilst Penelope showed the pictures of the crime scenes behind him.

"All girls were found within sixteen hours of being deceased and had already been missing for more than a day, meaning he keeps them before murdering them. He has stabbed them all once in the abdomen, careful not to hit any vital organs so the body doesn't shut down. Instead he stabs them to leave them to slowly bleed out." Penelope added whilst handing folders of information out to everyone.

"So it's likely he already has another girl with him now?" Rossi asked with a frown as he flicked his folder open.

"More than likely yes, and with and increasing confidence and skill set we can only assume he's going to continue at a quicker or more brutal pace the longer he's able to." Spencer added, looking to the group with a smile that matched nothing that he just said.

I sighed and looked at the images in front of me, at least this case seemed fairly simple in comparison to some of what we've had to face.

~~~

"This guy is most likely a social younger man who holds enough respect and familiarity within the area for people to feel comfortable enough to get into his vehicle alone at night. He doesn't force his victims to comply they willingly trust him until it's too late due to his natural charm and charisma. Then he holds them for a day before killing and disposing of them. He doesn't hurt them in their time of captivity, meaning he most likely feels remorse or is unsure of his actions, but the thrill of the kill is to enticing for him to let them go. He's confident within his ability to kill, shown in the slow and precise manner he takes in the murder. He is most likely a local who has lived here his whole life due to his knowledge of the area and the trust everyone has toward him. He also appears confident in his ability to not be caught, since he dumps the bodies rather than hiding them. He believes he's more intelligent than most people and above the law, and his high IQ helps fuel this narcissistic ideal he has of himself. That is all thank you." Hotch walks away from the room of police officers who were noting down his profile, gesturing to Emily, Rossi and Derek to follow him into an interrogation room.

I jumped up from the table I was sat on and gathered my notes from next to me.

"I just don't understand how we could have such a sick individual in our community doing this to women. It's just shocking to me." Officer Davis said from beside me.

He was the head officer on the case and the chief of police in this town, he'd been assisting me and Spencer in the last few hours with trying to create an idea of where to begin looking.

"Yeah it always comes as a shock when a member of your community causes something like this." I offered him a small smile whilst gathering my stuff to head over to Spencer, Officer Davis following closely behind me.

"I just can't believe something like this could happen here."

"Can you think of any groups of people within the community that hold a lot of respect and trust? Like public speakers, church groups, large charity groups or public helpers?" I asked him flicking to the page of possible careers I had, smiling at Spencer as I settled my stuff next to him.

"Well apart from the obvious like the police and fire force, I couldn't think of anything. We're quite a religious area but none of our churches have any well known priests that everyone would know, we have too many churches and priests for people to form personal connections with. Although we do have a large neighbourhood watch group. They do nightly patrols in cars around the streets and main roads. They're a very large group of people."

Spencer's head shot up at the last bit. "Do they have a known leader people would know? Or any type of uniform they wear to be recognisable?" He asked Davis while scribbling something on his whiteboard.

"Not uniforms no. Although, the patrol cars they use do have these stick on lights they use to be recognisable. Pauls the leader, he tells people when their needed for patrol."

"So our unsub could be a patrol member, approaching women in his car so they know he's apart of the watch group and trust him enough to get into the car without any hesitation!" Spencer said turning to Davis "I need a list of names of the leaders of the group."

I opened my phone, calling Penelope "I'll get a list of the people on patrol the nights that these girls were taken, see if there's anyone that was working every night."

~~~

Less than a day, that's all we had to find this woman before it was too late.

I was stood in an office with Spencer and Rossi, bouncing ideas off of each other, hoping something stuck.

"Penelope got him." Derek said with a smile walking into the room.

"Paul Fredrick, thirty-five years old, lived here his whole life, was arrested ten years ago for an assault against an twenty-one year old woman, and in charge of the neighbourhood watch patrol schedule." Spencer read from the paper Derek just handed him.

"Hotch, Emily and that detective are already heading there. We need to go this girl probably hasn't got that long left." Derek said gesturing us out of the door quickly.

~~~

"He's confessed." Spencer said with a smile, kissing me on the head as he took a seat next to me.

I'd been sat in this empty office in the police station for an hour now, something just doesn't feel right.

"Really? Doesn't that seem strange to you? I mean according to the profile this guy is confident and intelligent. Surly he wouldn't confess after an hour of interrogation." I bit my lip lightly as I re-read my notes again and again.

"Well sometimes the profile isn't completely correct. Plus they found the girl in an abandoned warehouse a ten minute drive away from his house." Spencer shrugged "he isn't as confident as the profile indicates, he was also quite anxious and stressed when confronted which was surprising, but the evidence points to him and he's confessed. All of the logic adds up."

"I guess. I just don't feel right." I sigh and look up to him with a frown.

He matches my expression and stands up, kissing my forehead lightly before collecting his stuff. "You probably just need some rest it's been a long weekend. The plane leaves in an hour, I'll go collect our stuff for us."

He gave me one more smile before leaving the room. As I glanced after him I saw the rest of the station basically empty and the time was three in the morning.

With another sigh I gathered my stuff and headed out the door. Maybe ten minutes outside in the fresh air would chill me out.

"Everything alright?" A voice from behind me asked, making me jump.

"Davis hi you scared me." I said with a laugh, holding the door for him as we both walked outside. "Everything's okay yeah I'm just rethinking the case."

"What's bothering you about it?" He asked, lighting himself a cigarette.

"I don't know, the whole thing just seems off, I mean why would Fredrick confess so quickly? He doesn't match the profile at all, he's awkward and of a lower intelligence. I just don't see how he could do this alone. Plus why would he take these woman to an abandoned warehouse that could be accessed to the public or the police whenever rather than his own house? He lived alone in an remote area with no neighbours. It just doesn't add up." I shrugged and pulled my arms closer to me since the cold was nipping at my arms.

All of a sudden I felt a blunt pain hit the side of my head.

~~~

(Spencers pov)

"Everything alright kid?" Derek asks me with a concerned look.

"Yeah, I'm just worried about Y/n." I reply, fidgeting with my fingers as I talk "She's been questioning the case and I'm starting to think she might've been onto something."

"What do you mean?"

"Well didn't Fredrick seem odd to you? He had a low IQ and no charisma at all, even if you knew of him I doubt many people would willingly get into his car. Plus he transported the girls for no reason, he put himself at risk by doing it in that warehouse rather than his own home. There's no way he could've done this alone."

"What are you getting at here kid?"

"Well didn't he come across to you as more of a submissive personality?"

"You think we have two unsubs here? A team?"

I shook my head quickly calling Y/n as I spoke.

"No not a specifically a team. A dominant who lured the girls and killed them, and a submissive who picked the girls out, disposed of the bodies and took the fall. It would make sense, Fredrick was to easy to find, this unsub would be to intelligent to be this simple. Fredrick was on patrol the nights the girls were taken, he most likely saw them first and then alerted the other unsub of them so he could then take them."

"Well if this unsub was so intelligent how come it was so easy to find his partner?"

The phone rang out, that's strange Y/n always picks up.

"He wanted us to. He pointed us in that direction to throw us off, he didn't need Fredrick and he knew he would stay loyal if he was caught. He wanted us to catch Fredrick so we'd leave."

Derek's eyes went wide as he got his phone out of his phone to call someone.

"You know who told us about the neighbourhood watch and the list of likely suspects?"

Derek asked with a frown.

"Davis."

~~~

"Has anyone seen Y/n?" I asked as I walked into the room that the rest of the team were in.

They all looked at me with worried expressions as Emily handed me my bulletproof vest.

"According to the CCTV she was last seen leaving the station with Officer Davis" Hotch said clearing his throat, trying to remain stern and collected even though he was as distraught as the rest of the team.

"What?" my face fell as I scanned the room, everyone either looking away from me or straight at me with concern.

Derek's phone beeped and everyone's heads snapped up to look at him as he stood. "Pen's got an address, lets go."

~~~

"FBI!" Derek yelled as he kicked down the door, letting himself into the house as I followed behind, gun trained ahead of me.

"What am I looking for here Reid?" he asked, clearing the first room.

"A basement most likely." I said walking ahead, spotting a door that appeared to be heading downstairs.

I nodded my head toward it and Derek went ahead, opening it slowly and walking down.

I followed close behind him, a loud smash was heard from in front of us and before I could even see Derek shot, leaving Davis on the floor.

"He tried to run, threw something glass at me." Derek said, gesturing to the blood from the new cut on his arm.

"Can you see her anywhere?" I pushed in front of him as he flicked on the light switch.

I scanned the room before my eyes landed on her figure in the corner, laying on the floor looking pale and bleeding from somewhere. "Y/N!" I ran over there, putting my gun away as Derek called for a medic through the radio.

"Hey your going to be okay. I'm so sorry, I should've listened I'm so sorry. Y/n please. Come on open your eyes. Please..." I felt Derek's hand on my shoulder as I started to cry.

Before I could comprehend what was happening a group of medics came in and surrounded her, Derek pulling me out of the room.

~~~

I paced the hospital waiting room floor, it had been hours and we'd heard nothing.

Emily was asleep on two chairs. Hotch was sat looking at the floor, tapping his foot anxiously. Rossi had been standing up to speak to the receptionist every ten minuets, and Derek had be constantly picking up calls from Penelope who had kept ringing for updates despite Derek promising to call her as soon as we knew.

And I had basically paced a hole through the floor.

"Reid sit down and eat something. Stop punishing yourself." Hotch said with a frown.

I shook my head and continued pacing. "I can't, I should've listened to her, or stayed with her. I didn't even try first aid I just froze when I saw her..." I replied, voice cracking.

A doctor cleared his throat behind us "Y/n L/n?"

We all looked up at him with matching worried expressions.

I held my breath as we waited for him to say something.

"She was stabbed in the abdomen but luckily suffered no trauma to any organs. She's lost a lot of blood but she's going to be okay. She's just woken up so she's a bit out of it but she can take one visitor."

I felt my whole body relax as I took a breath.

"She's okay?" I asked again with a shaky breath.

Derek put his hand on my shoulder and nodded with a smile "She's going to be okay kid."

I let out a little sob and nodded my head with a small smile.

"Reid you should go see her, let her know we're all here." Hotch said patting my other shoulder.

I nodded at both of them and followed after the doctor, taking a seat next to her bed, holding her hand in mine as carefully as I could.

She opened her eyes, slowly turning her head to look at me.

Somehow she was still smiling as bright as ever, provoking my face to mirror hers on instinct.

"Hey you." she said with a small laugh.

"Hi." I kissed her knuckles, a few tears escaping my eyes as I looked at her.

"Why're you crying? I'm the one who's be stabbed dumbass." she joked with a small laugh, causing me to chuckle.

"I love you so much, don't you ever do this again. I really thought I'd lost you. I don't know what I would've done."

"I'll try my best to stay alive then, just for you Spence."

She smiled sweetly at me with another small laugh, I admired her face for a second before leaning in to kiss her lips softly.

#fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer read x y/n #spencer reid x you #x reader #mathew gray gubler

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viking-raider · 5 months

Text

Thankful

Summary: For Thanksgiving, you decide to take part of a military support group event and host a Veteran, having them over for dinner. Forming a lasting bond with a certain Captain.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: G - Cotton Candy Goodness, Angst, Mention of Loss of Family Member, Mourning, Cold Mother, Embarrassed!Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Use, Fluff, Friendly Bets, Southern Charm

Inspiration: It’s for Thanksgiving. 🍗

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS! My Syverson's first name is Austin.

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You had received the message from one of the countless Military support groups you were a part of about the Sponsoring a Veteran for Thanksgiving event, and if you were interested in participating. You had hesitated for a couple days, before finally caving. You didn't have much family left of your own, just your mother. Since your father passed, when you were a kid and your only sibling, a brother, had been killed in the line of duty. Which was why you were a member of the support groups, looking to keep a closeness to him, and find some sort of peace with his death.

“All right.” The lead organizer, retired Lieutenant Sarah Timmans, sighed, looking over her clipboard at the list of names of all the Veterans that had been signed up for the event. “Your mother knows you're hosting a Vet, right?” She asked, cocking a brow at you, knowing how sensitive and touchy your mother was still about being around anything directly Military.

“I told her, I was bringing a friend over.” You answered, biting your lip nervously, knowing your mother's own mood swings on the subject.

“Girl, she's going to flip out on you.” Sarah said, shaking her head, eyes bulging. “Maybe, you should just do something one-on-one with them?” She suggested, trying to bypass a disaster.

“She's expecting us, and I'll get an earful, if I skip another family gathering.”

Sarah snorted at you, smirking. “It's your KP!” She teased, going down the list to find your name and who you'd been assigned. “So, your Vet is Captain Austin Syverson. He just retired seven months ago after nineteen years in the service of the U.S Army. Special Forces.” She informed you, looking up from the clipboard to scan the crowded room for a moment.

“Ah, there he is!” She smiled, motioning behind you.

Turning around and following her gaze, you were surprised for a moment, standing on the other side of the room, in a small cluster of other Vets, was a tall, thickly muscular guy, with a shaved head and well groomed beard. Everything about him exuded authority, self-confidence and calm. He was so damn handsome in his pair of dark wash blue jeans, brown cowboy boots and fleshly ironed, black dress shirt that was tucked in, showing off his belt buckle. Your insides tingled as you stared at him, throat going dry.

“Damn, that's a Texas boy.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Sure is.” Sarah agreed, checking him out as well. “You should go introduce yourself, before he thinks you stood him up.” She added, a hint of encouragement in her voice.

“God, you're right.” You started, frightened he just might, then weaved through the crowd towards him, pausing for a moment, until he noticed you. “Hi there.” You beamed up at him, your knees like a nervous jelly.

“Ma'am.” Syverson greeted you back with a Southern drawl, tipping his head forward.

“I'm your host, Captain Syverson.” You informed him, introducing yourself.

“Oh.” He replied, giving you a proper look over, a smile pulling over his lips as he took your lovely figure in the white, knee-length dress covered in delicate yellow flowers, paired with black flats. “It's a pleasure to meet you.” He said, his bright blue eyes meeting yours once more. “You can just call me, Sy.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Sy.” You answered, cordially extending your hand.

Smirking broader, Sy gently took your hand in his, shaking it. “I'm grateful that you've allowed me impose myself on you and your family's holiday.”

“Oh, it's quite all right.” You waved it off, shrugging your shoulders. “It's really just me and my mom, so nothing major.”

“Well, I'm just a Captain, so it'll literally be nothing Major.” Sy quipped, making the group around him crackle at the inside joke.

You dropped your head, hiding your amused smile, knowing the two of you were more than likely to get along, if he had that sense of humor. “Fair.” You nodded, lifting your head. “More than fair. Well, we can leave whenever you like.”

Sy turned over his wrist to glance at his watch. “We can go now, if you like.” He replied, twisting to a chair that was behind him and picking up a black, denim Sherpa coat off the back. “I'll see you boys later. Have a good Thanksgiving.” He bid the men, patting a couple on the shoulder, before following you out of the building.

“You can follow me to my place or we can ride together.” You told Sy, standing on the sidewalk with him, chewing on your lip.

“I can follow.” Sy answered, smiling down at you. “My truck's just over there.” He said, motioning over to the big, 2021 Dodge Ram, parked a short distance away.

“Okay. I'm just right there.” You informed him, pointing out your little KIA Niro.

“On your lead then, Major.” Sy quipped, winking at you, before heading off towards his truck.

“Christ,” You huffed, watching after him for a moment, your hand moving up to a necklace around your neck. “He reminds me so much of you, Phelan.” You sighed, then made for your vehicle.

Pulling out of the parking space, your phone started to ring, so you connected the car's Bluetooth. “Mother.” You answered, glancing in your rear-view, to make sure Sy was behind you, before you started out of the parking lot and into the street.

“How much longer are you going to be?” Your mother snapped through the car's speakers.

“I'm just leaving now, mom.” You sighed, pressing your lips together. “I had to find my friend and now we're heading there now. We should be there in about ten or so minutes.”

“Why is he spending Thanksgiving with us? Doesn't he have his own family?” She demanded, clearly pacing the house.

“I'm sure he has a family, mother. But I invited him over to ours and he accepted. So, please, be nice to him. He's a very polite and outstanding person, who doesn't need to be pestered and guilt tripped, or reminded his mother is lucky, that her son is still alive and not in the military and so on.” You hoped to warn and deter her from her usual interaction with the males she came into contact with. “Let's just have a nice dinner, for once.”

“How can we, when your brother isn't here.” She growled, then the line went dead.

“At least, I'm here.” You sighed, deflated by her words. “I should really warn Sy before we get into the house.” You thought, then pushed that unpleasantness aside.

Sy managed to keep behind your car, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. He felt a little nervous about going to a random, pretty young lady's home to have Thanksgiving dinner with her mother. However, he didn't have any other plans for the holiday under his belt, other than staying on the ranch he'd started up on his return home with Aika.

“Idle hands are the devil's workshop.” He commented aloud, following you off the on-ramp.

It would have just been him and his pup, working the horses all day, before making another ten minute meal and sitting in front of his laptop, since he still hadn't gotten around to buying himself a proper tv for the living room. So, he let one of his buddies nag him into signing up for the event. Sy wasn't at all disappointed either.

You were more than easy on his eyes.

Finally making it outside your place, you got out and met Sy in your driveway, shifting glances between him and the front door.

“Are you all right?” Sy asked, squinting down at you.

“Okay, look.” You blurted out, not looking back at him. “My mom is super touchy about the military.” You started to explain to Sy, giving him an embarrassed glance.

“Why?” He frowned, confused.

Your shoulders slumped slightly and a tired expression washed over your face. “My brother died in Afghanistan six years ago. My mom has taken that to her heart and soul. So anything military tends to set her off.”

“Then, should I even be here?” Sy asked, concerned about causing your mother any distress.

“It's my house and you're my guest.” You told him, bluntly. “I want you here for dinner. It'll be nice to have someone over that might actually engage with me.” You said, heading up the footpath towards the front door. “And not remind me that I'm not my dead, older brother.” You added under your breath, but Sy's sharp ear heard you all the same.

“Mom!” You called out, toeing off your shoes as you stood in the entry with Sy. “We're here.”

“Took long enough.” Her voice echoed back somewhere in the house.

You looked up at Sy. “I'm so sorry.” You mouthed, shaking your head.

“It's all right.” He smiled, his hand touching the back of your arm.

“Do you want something to drink?” You asked, showing him into the kitchen and pulling open the fridge. “Got wine, a couple bottles.” You twisted your upper half to peek at an upper shelf. “Looks like she's left my Ardbeg whiskey alone.”

“I wouldn't mind a little whiskey.”

Nodding, you shut the fridge and got down two glasses with the whiskey bottle. “Straight or on the rocks?”

“What are you having?” Sy asked, leaning back against your sink, a twinkle of mischievous curiosity in his eyes.

“The rocks.” You answered, a playful smirk tugging on your lips.

Sy drew a breath in through his nose, pressing his lips together as he nodded. “Impressed.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled, grabbing a couple ice cubes from the freezer and dropped them into your glasses, then poured you and Sy a generous amount of amber liquid. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” Sy tipped his head, taking the glass from you and took a sip. “Damn, that's smooth.”

“Mmm, for a twenty year old bottle, it should be.” You snorted, taking a gulp of yours.

“Twenty years.” Sy choked slightly. “Damn, almost as long as I was in--” He caught himself, eyes shooting to the two kitchen entrances. “Well, you know.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, a little stiff, praying your mother was lurking nearby, and polished off your drink, before moving over to the oven, revealing a nice sized turkey, just starting to turn a golden brown, filling the kitchen with a mouth-watering scent. “I started this about an hour and a half ago, so it should have about another hour or so to go. While it does that, I can show you around.”

“And, if you're as much of a Texan as I think you are, I'll pop the football game on.”

“You don't have to put the game on.” Sy laughed, feeling called out. “We can watch whatever you and your mother want. I'd hate to impose.”

“Captain Austin Syverson, you're not imposing.” You informed him, putting your foot down.

Sy's eyes widened and he gave you a half smirk. “I do love a woman that takes charge. Yes, ma'am, if you say so.”

“Besides, I'd love to see the Chiefs kick the Cowboys ass.” You added, teasingly.

“Oh, you're a traitor to your home state!” Sy gasped, horror on his face.

“Texas isn't my home state.” You giggled at him, then tisked. “Kansas isn't either, to be far.” You snorted, amused by the banter. “But I like Mahomes.”

“What's wrong with Dak Prescott?”

“Nothing! He's a great QB. I'm just a Chiefs girl.”

“I may have to call this Thanksgiving off.” Sy said, draining his whiskey glass and set it on the counter behind him and pushed off the edge. “To eat at the same table as a Chiefs girl, may just be too much for this ol' Texas boy.”

You were worried for a moment that Sy was genuine, and felt terrible for bringing it up, until you finally noticed the look in his eye and relaxed. He had a dry humor and pulled it out on you, catching you good.

“Shoot, you had me there.” You chuckled, breathy.

He winked at you, amusing you more with his cute double blink.

“Well,” You sighed, looking at the kitchen. “This is the kitchen.”

“A very nice kitchen.” Sy echoed, nodding and rubbing a hand over the counter top. “Nice and clean.”

“Thank you, I do my best.” You replied, bowing your head. “Out that way is the dining room, where we'll be having dinner.” You said, motioning to your right, and Sy peeked in, finding a long, glass table already set for three people with nice little autumn decorations as a centerpiece. “Over here, is the living room, where we'll probably be starting our football rivalry.”

You showed him into the living room, just as your mother came downstairs, in nothing but a pair of loose shorts, a tank top and an open bathrobe, a half glass of white wine clutched in her hand. You felt a cold shard of embarrassment go down your back. You had hoped, when you told her you were going to get Sy, she would have dressed into something—anything.

“Mom, this is Sy.” You told her, keeping your voice even. “Sy, this is my mother, Dana.” You introduced them, chewing the inside of your lip to bits.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma'am.” Sy greeted her politely, nodding his head kindly, like nothing was out of place.

She looked Sy over, taking a gulp of her wine. “How do you and my daughter know each other?” She inquired, lifting a brow at him.

You stiffened, you hadn't considered fielding that question from her while Sy was over.

“Work.” Sy said, casually.

“So, she's your accountant?” Dana pressed and showed no sign of easing off.

“I am.” You chimed in, hoping to get her to drop the subject and leave Sy alone.

“That she is.” Sy confirmed, backing you up. “Helps me out with my ranch.” He told Dana, tapping that belt buckle at his waist, bearing the Hook Hill Ranch logo on it.

“Hmm.” Your mother grunted, not sounding convinced. “Why aren't you spending Thanksgiving with your family?” She asked, giving Sy a hard look.

“Mom!” You snapped, horrified.

“It's all right.” He assured you, giving you a soft smile. “I'm an only child. I've never known my father and my mother ran off, when I was ten years old, leaving me to be raised by uncle, her brother. He had a heart attack three years ago, while milkin' his cows. So, it's just me and my dog, Aika, nowadays. Your daughter was kind enough to ask me over to your Thanksgiving dinner, and I accepted.”

“Satisfied?” You asked, annoyed your mother caused Sy to divulge such personal information.

Rolling her eyes, your mother turned in a flare of her bathrobe and headed back upstairs.

“Turkey will be done in an hour!” You called after her, with no reply. “I'm so sorry.” You said, turning back to Sy.

“It's okay.” He said softly, more concerned for you. “Is there anything I can do to help you finish up with dinner?”

“Um,” You tapped your foot. “No, I don't think so. Besides, you're my guest. You should relax.” You told him, waving over to the couch. “I can handle everything.” You assured him, rounding the arm of the couch to swipe the remote of the coffee table and turned the tv on, quickly finding the football game. “Ooh, Cowboys are beating the Chiefs by two points!” You hissed, casting a glance over your shoulder at Sy.

Sy moved to join you, holding your gaze. “I bet you a round of drinks, at a later time, that the Cowboys beat your Chiefs.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Syverson?” You asked, surprised.

“I am.” He admitted, unashamed.

“Then, you're on.” You grinned, giving him a cocky look. “But, if the Chiefs win, I want to see your ranch.”

“Bold.” Sy smirked, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I'll even cook for you.”

“Sold.” You agreed, extending your hand out to him.

He shook your hand, then sat down on the couch, getting comfortable to watch the game, while you returned to the kitchen. Pausing for a moment, you refilled his whiskey glass and took it out to him, giving him a soft smile as you set the cool glass down on a coaster and went back to prepping dinner. Sy watched you over the back of the couch, moving and bumping about, taking a deep breath and taking all the lovely smells of your hard work wafting towards him and making his belly rumble.

Lord have mercy, she's gorgeous.

“You sweet on my daughter?” Dana's voice came up behind him.

Sy's head swung around to look back at her, seeing she'd finally gotten dressed, now wearing a pair of black leggings and a loose, cream colored jumper, but no shoes or socks. “I just might be.” He answered, meeting her gaze head on. “She's a sweet, generous young lady.”

“Young lady, how old are you?” Dana huffed, dropping down into a recliner at the end of the couch.

“I'm thirty-eight.” Sy replied, with an odd amusement.

Dana looked Sy over, her gray eyes scrutinizing. “At least you're both in your thirties.” She huffed, curling her legs underneath her and glared at the tv.

What a curious woman. Sy blinked, shaking his head at her.

The two of them sat quietly, not speaking or interacting with each other any further. Which didn't bother either Sy or Dana. You peeked in at them from time to time, scurrying out to fill Sy's glass, whenever you noticed it was empty and always asking if he needed or wanted something, before vanishing back into the kitchen or dining room.

You wanted the dinner to be as great as possible for Sy, and your mother.

“Dinner is ready, everyone!” You declared, coming into the living room, glancing at the football score, discovering the Chiefs had recovered since the last time you'd entered, now ahead by four points.

“Smells delicious.” Sy complimented you, as he and your mother came into the dining room, finding the set table.

The turkey was juicy and golden-brown, slices already carved and on a plate beside it, with sides of stuffing, mashed potatoes, rolls and cornbread muffins, yams with marshmallows, peas and asparagus, accompanied with pecan and pumpkin pie. There were two decanters of red and white wine, a bottle of Ardbeg, and a pitcher of iced tea.

“Thank you.” You grinned with shy pride, biting the inside of your lip. “Sit wherever you like and dig in.” You said, motioning to the chairs around the table, before slipping into one.

Sy joined you, winking at you, as he picked up a plate and started helping himself, piling his plate with meat, rolls, yams and cornbread. “Mmm, this is amazing.” He hummed, nodding his head and chewing his mouthful of turkey and mashed potatoes.

You were giddy that Sy was so in love with your cooking, glancing towards your mother, who was at the end of the table. But found she was sipping a glass of red and nibbling on a buttered roll, to your slight dismay. Pushing the feeling away, you fixed your plate and dug in, moaning at how tasty it was.

“So, your team was winning.” Sy commented, giving you a side brow as he continued to eat.

“Yeah, I noticed.” You smirked, feeling bubbly, as you poured yourself some wine. “Looks like we'll be spending some more time together.”

“That it does.” He nodded, feeling your mother's eyes on him. “I'll have to show you the new foal that was born last week.”

A flood of excitement filled you, you loved the thought of seeing a baby horse. “Oh! I bet they're just the cutest thing on the planet!” You gushed, eyes bright with love already. “What did you name it?”

“Oh, I haven't named the little rascal, yet.” Sy laughed, watching you just gush. “Maybe, you could help me come up with a name for her?” He suggested, looking at you over the rim of his whiskey glass.

“Hmm.” You hummed, falling into a meditative state as you brewed over a name for the baby horse.

“So,” Dana cleared her throat, eyes narrowed between you and Sy. “You're a Rancher?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy nodded, turning to regard her, nothing by polite respect in his expression.

“How long have you been one?” She questioned, swirling the wine in her glass.

“Ranchin' has been in my family for generations.” Sy replied, not letting her trip him up. “My many great-grandfather came over from Ireland, just after the American Revolution. Then, when the Civil War happened, my family fought and were granted land at the end, for their service. We've been doing it ever since.”

“So, your family fought for the South.” Dana said bluntly, causing you to choke on your food.

“Mother.” You rasped, eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“No, ma'am.” Sy said coolly. “We fought for the North.” He told her, and left it at that.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked her slowly, eyes still wide and mouth agape.

“No.” She answered, getting up and leaving the room.

“I'm so sorry, Sy.” You stuttered, ashamed of your mother.

“It's all right, love.” He shook his head, wiping his hands on his napkin. “It's not your fault. It's not hers either, really.” He said softly. “She's mourning her son, and doing so takes the form in many ways. That's how your Ma is coping with your brother no longer being on this Earth.” He told you, resting back in his chair and fixing his blue eyes on you. “You're coping by going to support groups and trying to understand the kind people that he was, that he worked with, that he died surrounded by.”

You bit your lip, a lump of emotion strangling you and blurring your eyes; Sy was right. You wanted to be surrounded by those like your brother. It was like still having him there, in a way. You felt the strong, rough warmth of Sy's hand slip into yours, squeezing it and rubbing his thumb over your wrist as the two of you sat there, quiet and surrounded by your Thanksgiving feast.

“You know,” Sy spoke, breaking the silence. “I could actually use an accountant for my ranch.” He said, smirking over at you. “Plus, how about drinks at my place, while you figure out a new name for my foal? Who cares who wins the game.” He chuckled, arching a suggestive brow at you.

“Are you hinting at a sort of date, Syverson?” You asked, playfully thumb warred him.

“It's possible.” Sy laughed, letting you pin his thumb. “Maybe, I'll even cook you Christmas dinner.”

“Oh, I think I'd like that.” You told him, grinning, thankful you'd decided to host him for Thanksgiving.

#Syverson #Captain Austin Syverson #Thankful *fic*#Thankful #Viking-Raider Fics #Captain Syverson x Reader #Captain Syverson/Reader #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #Syverson x Reader #Syverson/Reader #Fluff #Cotton Candy Fluff #Thanksgiving #Thanksgiving Fic

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