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spnexploration · 10 months

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Pack chapter 22

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Chapter summary: The morning after your night alone.

Chapter warnings: reader self-conscious including about her body, but nothing particularly detailed

Word count: 2.6k (long one!)

A/N: I forgot to add the last chapter to the masterlist when I posted it, which I have now done. Sorry about that! Make sure you read it first.

This fulfils the nesting square of my 2023 SPN AU bingo.

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 21 <- -> Part 23

“Good morning Y/N, how’d you sleep?” Sam asked as I trudged into the kitchen.

I just groaned in response.

He chuckled, “You really are perfect for Dean. There's fresh coffee if you'd like some.” I nodded and he fetched me a cup.

I was halfway through before I thought of sharing my news. “Dean messaged me when he got to Claire, at like 3am.”

“Yeah, he messaged me too. He said he's going to work the case with her today, then decide if they stay for tomorrow. I think he realises she'll rebel even more if he dismisses her work.”

I nodded, focused back on my coffee.

“So what are we doing today?” I asked when I was feeling more awake.

“That’s up to you. We can do some more lore if you'd like, you can spend the day reading or watching TV, or you can put yourself in Madison's hands and let her go crazy keeping you entertained.”

I laughed. “Maybe we can do some lore and then I'll see if I'm up for Madi entertainment.”

“Good choice. Grab some breakfast and then meet me in the library. I'll fill Mads in when she's out of the shower.”

---

Sam had me try reading some lore myself and try to make sense of it, all related to the topics we'd covered yesterday. I didn't realise how complicated killing monsters was!

After a while I was feeling tired and run down, so I headed off to Dean's room for a nap. It was probably just the poor sleep I’d had last night without Dean around. I snuggled into his pillow and fell asleep instantly.

---

I woke later. I was not feeling better. I felt so cold, but I was drenched in sweat. My joints ached, it was hard to move them at all.

It took a lot of effort, but I made it to the door finally. I was going to call out for Sam and Madi, hope that they had medication for whatever illness must've struck me down.

I opened the door but felt out of breath with the effort of crossing the room. I had to get my breath back before I could call out.

Suddenly, I heard hurried footsteps.

“Y/N?” Sam called, sounding worried. “We're coming.”

How did he know I needed him?

He rounded the corner a few seconds later, Madison hot on his heels.

“I think I'm sick,” I wheezed out.

“Omega, you're in heat,” he said gently. “I smelt it as soon as you opened the door.”

“But this feels- I've never felt like I was dying before!” I started to fall as I used up all my energy complaining. Sam quickly caught me and carried me back to Dean's bed. Now that he said it, I could feel slick gathering between my legs, but given how much sweat I was covered in, I hadn't really noticed before.

His phone started ringing. It said 'Claire Novak’ on the caller ID.

He answered and put it on speaker, “Hey Claire.”

“Sam! Dean just went into a rut and he is fucking mental! What the hell do I do?!”

I thanked my lucky stars that my body had settled on Dean, that our cycles had aligned. But now I just had to get to him, to be claimed. I shivered. What if my heat finished before I got to him?

“First, tell him Y/N is in heat,” Sam said to Claire. “It will reassure him some.”

“Sam says Y/N is in heat,” she said slightly muffled, like she'd turned the phone away. “He's growling, hang on.”

There were some strange noises and then Dean’s voice, much lower than normal, “Omega?”

“I'm here Alpha,” I managed.

“You... ok?” he sounded like speaking was hard for him.

“Yeah, I'll be ok.” I didn't want to tell him how unwell I felt.

Sam gave me a knowing look and said, “Alpha, can you put Claire back on? I'm going to work with her to get you two together.” Dean growled slightly throughout, but the sounds of the phone passing happened again.

“Sam?” Claire asked. “He didn't say anything, he just gave me the phone back.”

“Ok,” Sam continued, “The next thing you do is that you submit to him. If you start challenging him when he is in an unfilled rut, away from the Omega he is yet to claim, he is going to go feral. I recommend calling him 'Alpha’ and barring your neck if he gets antsy.”

“Great,” she deadpanned. The teenage sass was practically dripping.

“And then you get him back here, as fast as you can.”

“What about the case?” she asked petulantly.

“Claire, I promise, we will help you on this case. But this is literally the second time he has gone into a rut after finding his mate, their mating has already been threatened by factors outside their control. They cannot miss this opportunity. Plus I’ve got an Omega here who’s about to go through the worst heat of her life, she needs him.”

I gulped at Sam’s words.

“Ok, I get it. Sorry. I’ll get him back.”

“Thanks Claire.”

“Bye.”

Sam hung up and turned to me. “It's gonna be a while before they can get here, so we need to get you comfortable.”

“What- what if he doesn’t?”

“That's not going to happen. You've only just gone into heat, and even your normal heat probably lasts longer than one day?” I nodded. “This one is likely to be longer, and worse. Dean got to Claire in about half a day. There is plenty of time, Omega.”

I sniffled and he stroked my hair gently.

“How about we get you some painkillers and a cool bath or shower to try and drop this fever a bit, and then Madi can stay with you. I don't think you're going to want to be around another Alpha too much, but I'll help with the cooling down because I don't think you can hold yourself up right now. Does that sound ok?”

I nodded, too tired and achey to reply.

“I'm going to take off some of your clothes, ok?” I half-heartedly nodded. “Omega, I need your words. I'm not going to do anything you don't consent to.”

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“Ok, thank you.” He started to pull Dean's flannel off me and I whined. “I know, I know, we’ll get back to Dean’s scent as soon as we can. Now, bath or shower?”

I shrugged. He kept gently removing my clothes until I was in just my underwear. I wished he was Dean. Partway through Madi had brought me painkillers and water, but I didn't feel any better yet. Everything ached and every so often I shivered, although Sam assured me I was actually hot.

“I'm going to carry you to the bathroom, ok?” I nodded and he lifted me up bridal style. I leant my head on his shoulder and, whilst he smelled reassuringly like Pack, I just wanted Dean. I started to cry.

“I know, I know,” he murmured reassuringly. “We’re gonna get Dean back as fast as we can, ok? And you're gonna feel a bit better soon. You're gonna be ok.”

He made it to the bathroom where Madi was standing next to the full bath. “Ready?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I mumbled.

He went to his knees and lowered me into the water. It felt strange at first and I clung to Sam's neck, but after a few moments it felt better and I let go of him.

“Now, ordinarily we'd leave you alone, but I don't think you're well enough for that right now.”

I nodded. I felt too weak to do much more, which was probably Sam's point.

Madi wet a face washer and put it on my forehead. I lay back and closed my eyes. I was starting to feel a little bit better. My joints weren't aching quite as much.

I relaxed.

“Hey, hey,” Sam said, tapping my face. I didn't know how much time had passed. “No falling asleep in the bath.” I blearily opened my eyes and tried to glare at him. He chuckled, “I'm not about to let you drown in our own house.”

I started to get uncomfortable, trying to find a way to position myself. And the water was starting to feel cold. Sam must've noticed my fidgeting as he said, “How about we get you out?” I nodded. “You wanna try standing up?” I nodded again and he reached in, lifting me out and gently placing me on my feet on the mat. Madi wrapped me in a towel.

I was still too sore to do much other than whimper as Madi dried me off. It was like having the worst case of flu ever.

Slick flooded out of me into my wet undies and down my legs. I saw Sam's nostrils flare as he smelled it, and he swallowed thickly.

“Are- are you ok?” I asked him, suddenly worried that he might be unable to control his reactions.

“Yes, sorry I scared you. I'm not going to hurt you. The scent of Omega in heat is just a bit, uh, overwhelming to Alpha senses. But it's fine,” he said with a reassuring smile.

I felt like I knew what he meant. His Alpha smell was starting to get overpowering. I scrunched my nose up a little as I smelled him and he chuckled.

“I think you're entering the horny phase of heat,” Madi observed wryly. “Let's get you back to your room and we can kick Sam out before you start scratching him for getting too close to you.” Sam laughed.

“Huh?”

“I might have clawed Dean when he came into the kitchen and surprised me when I was in heat one time,” she said with a smirk. “He was literally just walking past but I, uh, reacted with claws before my brain engaged. Anyway, enough about me, I think you're dry enough.”

“Are you ok if I pick you up again?” Sam asked me.

I was still feeling weak and shaky, so I nodded. He lifted me into his arms and my skin started to crawl. I didn't like Sam touching me, he was wrong, wrong!

“It's ok, I'm going to put you down and leave in just a sec,” he murmured. I was holding myself tense, probably having my facial expressions tell the story of my discomfort.

I suddenly realised I was starting to growl.

I couldn't stop.

He placed me on Dean's bed and hastily backed away. I grabbed Dean's flannel and rubbed it over my face, utterly enthralled with its scent.

“Message me if you need anything,” he said to Madi. “I'll keep you in the loop if I hear anything from Claire or Dean.”

He left. I stopped growling.

“Alright, let's get you out of those wet things,” Madi said.

I tried to reach behind me to unclasp my bra, but my arms were too weak to undo it. I started to cry, scared and annoyed about what was happening to me.

Madi sat next to me and wrapped her arm around my back. “I promise, it'll get better. I think you're feeling rubbish right now partly because of your massive fever, and partly because you're away from your mate. When Dean gets here, I promise it will get better.”

“Omega biology sucks.”

“Oh, so much! Ruts look way easier to get through than the shit we have to put up with.”

“Was it like this for you? I didn't expect to feel this much like I’d been hit by a truck.”

“No, I had Sam with me. So whilst I felt bad when it started, we pretty quickly got to dealing with it. And it sucks you don't have Dean, but he is on his way. You just gotta hang in there for a bit longer.”

I sniffled. More slick flooded out of me, for no apparent reason, and I felt weirdly like my skin was missing something. I started to fidget, trying to work out what I was feeling.

“Ok, ok, before you get all antsy, let's get you in fresh clothes.” I’d almost forgotten my bra and undies were wet from the bath, so distracted by the various painful and strange sensations from my body. I let Madi help me out of them and into a pair of summer pyjamas.

I grabbed Dean's flannel again, rubbing it over me. Then I smelled his pillow, bringing that to me too. I tried to wrap them around me, whining when it wouldn't work.

“You ever built a nest before, Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I think you’re trying to nest. Hang on,” she pulled out her phone and tapped away at it.

I couldn't focus on what she was doing, I was too busy trying to work out what to do with Dean's things. I'd positioned myself over his side of the bed, throwing back the covers so I could smell it better. I kept moving his pillow and his flannel around, but it just wouldn't do what I wanted. I was starting to shiver again, and Madison held her hand to my forehead.

“Fuck,” she muttered, “you're burning up again.”

A few moments later there was a knock at the door and Sam pushed a laundry basket of clothes in. I growled at him. I didn't mean to, I just couldn't help it. He quickly shut the door.

I finally smelt the clothes, now that Sam's wrongness had gone. Dean!! I reached out weakly to the basket and Madi picked it up and brought it to me.

“I asked Sam to get all of the clothes out of the hamper that were yours or Dean's and smelled like Dean. I thought you might like to use them in your nest.”

I purred at her and set about arranging the clothes. I don't think I've ever purred in my life.

I had to admit, now that I was putting things where they felt most right, I was clearly making a nest on the bed. I was surrounding myself in Dean's scent, picking up each item and carefully deciding where exactly to put it.

Once it was done, I tried to position myself in it. It wasn't big enough. It wasn't quite right. I wanted Dean!! I whined.

My skin was feeling strange again. I tried to scratch it to make myself feel better. But it wasn't quite itchy? It was something else. I rubbed it. Yes, that was better. But it still wasn't right.

I moved my hands around on my body. It felt a bit better. But not enough. Now I was getting frustrated that it wasn't feeling better enough.

I whined again.

“Where are your toys?” Madi asked me.

“What toys?”

“Sex toys. Can't you tell you’re getting super horny?”

Oh. Maybe that's why my skin felt weird. And why it didn't feel like the right touching. It didn't feel like normal arousal, and I’d been so distracted by everything else, I hadn't even recognised it.

I moved my hands lower. I slipped my fingers under the waistband of my shorts and approached my clit. Fuck it was sensitive right now!

I tried to get Dean's scent. I tried to find the best way to be in my nest. I tried to rub myself, but it felt like trying to tickle yourself. I wasn’t getting anywhere. My skin was crawling again and my joints were aching. I was so annoyed!

Madi appeared in front of me. I had forgotten all about her. She held out her hand.

“Try this,” she said as she handed me a vibrator. “Trust me.”

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en-hale-archives · 3 years

Text

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

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melwilson · 3 years

Text

neighbors | b.b

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

rating: fluff, kinda angsty tho

a/n: this gif was made by the wonderful @buckysbarnes thank you for allowing me to use your work, luv.

Not that you’ve been counting, but it’s been exactly four weeks and two days since you’ve seen your handsome neighbor. Four weeks and two days where the sun didn’t seem to shine as bright and the roses on your kitchen table didn’t smell as good.

Bucky Barnes had simply disappeared without a word as to where he was going. You didn’t think much of it at first. It wasn’t uncommon for Bucky to hibernate in his apartment for a few days at a time, but then those few days turned into a week. And so, with the key he had given you, you unlocked the door to his apartment to find it empty. A small layer of dust had settled on the kitchen counter and the blankets that usually inhabited the floor were folded and left neatly on the couch. You assumed that Bucky wouldn’t be gone for too long, considering he was a homebody, but boy were you wrong.

He hadn’t answered a single phone call or text and after two weeks, you just stopped trying. Some would say you were worried, but you opted for anxious and confused. You weren’t Bucky’s babysitter, but you were his friend and you cared for him. You knew who Bucky was and what he did for a living from the moment you laid eyes on him. So naturally, you just wanted to make sure he was okay.

And that leads to now.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of your laptop. You had...something due. Something important. Something for work.

A report.

You had a report due at the end of the day, but your mind was focused on something else. Someone else. You let out a frustrated groan, shutting the laptop closed.

He’s probably in Europe with Sam.

I don’t blame him. Europe is so much cooler than New York.

He couldn’t have invited me though?

The thought of Bucky had completely and utterly consumed you. Maybe it was those eyes that were bluer than the Mediterranean or the warmth he brought to the small apartment. Or it could have been that for once you had an actual friend. Someone who listened and made you feel wanted. Bucky Barnes was all you wanted and all you needed. But he was gone and apparently, had no intent on returning to New York soon.

You’re pathetic, Y/n. Get it together.

You rolled your shoulders back before deciding that a trip to the market would help ease your mind. And you were right. It was a beautiful and unusually warm day in downtown Brooklyn. You shuffled through the mass of people; men, women, and children who desired to enjoy the weather. The brief sound of laughing children filled your ears causing a small smile to turn your cheeks. You had always wanted a few of your own- a couple of boys and a little girl. Your family was extremely close. You were the oldest of four. Family was something you valued more than anything.

“I didn’t know you liked plums, Y/n.”

You glanced up at Douglas Simmons or Doug as he told many to call him. He had been running the produce stand since you were a kid. He knew what you came for before you got their each weekend and would always have it ready for you. “I- yeah,” you paused. “It’s new. A friend urged me to try them. They’re actually more for him than for me.”

“Him?” the fair man asked, eyebrows perking up.

You rolled your eyes, a small laugh covering up the heat crawling up your neck. “Yes. Him. Why? You worried about someone stealing me away?”

He scoffed grabbing the package of fresh strawberries for you. “I was actually hoping so. It’s about time you find someone and settle down.”

“I’m twenty-five, Doug. I’ve got time. Plus, he’s...we’re complicated.”

The older man handed you your bag with a small smile. “Complicated or running from each other?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, the cracked concrete beneath you, seemingly more interesting. He had always been too wise for his own good. Doug was someone you confided in a lot during your teenage years. He was easy to talk to and a great listener. He also had an uncanny ability to tell you what you needed to hear when you needed to hear it. “I’ll see you next weekend, Doug. Thanks for this.”

“Anytime, Y/n.” There was a hint of pity laced in his warm, brown eyes and you hated it. You hated how people looked at you when you talked about finding someone else. The way they would all say they were proud of you and how far you’d come since the accident.

Swallowing thickly, your eyes landed on the flower stand a few feet away. A bouquet of blue, white, and purple hydrangeas caused a smile to tug at your cheeks. He used to buy you hydrangeas. A fresh bouquet in front of your apartment door each month. You hadn’t worked up enough courage to buy anymore. Passing them, you waved to the owner of the stand before making your way back home. Doug’s words rang heavy in your mind. Complicated or running from each other. It would be three years to date in a week. Maybe it was time.

Bucky was nervous. He hadn’t seen you in over a month, not to mention not answering your phone calls or texts. He felt awful. He had called you earlier today, but you hadn’t answered, your phone going immediately to voicemail. He could imagine the disappointment that would be laced in your eyes. You were never mad at him. You were never mad at anyone, just disappointed. You could always see the good in people and would never fail to show them their worth. It was one of the things Bucky loved about you. Ignoring the pounding in his chest, he knocked three times on your apartment door. A few moments later, he heard a soft shuffling before his eyes met yours. Your eyes lit up though Bucky could tell something was wrong. Your usually bright eyes were rimmed red and brimmed with tears.

“Bucky, hey.” Your voice was soft, yet scratchy like you hadn’t spoken in awhile. “Come in.”

The taller man stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed by the warmth your presence brought. “Um, I got these for you.” He held out a bouquet of hydrangeas, the same ones you had a seen a week prior.

You let out a quiet gasp taking the flowers from his hand. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“I was hoping you would like them,” Bucky said nervously, “I wasn’t sure what flowers you liked. I got those because they reminded me of you.”

You sent him a small smile as you went around to the kitchen to grab a vase. The sound of tap water filled the silence between you. You could feel Bucky’s lingering stare, and though you didn’t mind, it made you nervous.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I-“

“You don’t have to explain, Buck,” you muttered. “I understand. I’m just glad you’re here. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” his voice was soft as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. His jacket was long forgotten, arms crossed over his chest, bottom lip tugged between his teeth. “How are you?”

You shrugged grabbing two glasses from the cabinet next to the microwave. “You want something to drink?”

“Y/n.” Bucky’s voice was stern.

You glanced over at him. “Bucky.” There was a look in your eyes that told him you didn’t want to talk about it.

There was a beat of silence. Bucky wanted to question you further, but he didn’t want to ruin what he had with you. “Water...with ice, please.” His blue eyes followed your frame as you shifted around the kitchen. Your body was stiff and rigid, a few sniffles filling the silence. Bucky noticed the way you ducked your head away from his as you handed him his water. As you attempted to slide past him, he gently wrapped his hand around your forearm. A shaky breath fell from your lips as your gaze stayed fixed on the floor beneath you. “Y/n, talk to me, doll. Please. I don’t like seeing you like this. And don’t tell me you’re okay because I know that you’re not.”

When you met his gaze, the tears started to fall faster. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

The break in your voice made Bucky’s heart ache. “Like what, doll?”

“Like you pity me. I don’t- I don’t want your pity.” You shook yourself from Bucky’s grasp, your knees buckling. Before you could meet the ground, Bucky’s hands found themselves weaved around your waist. He eased you to the ground, your sobs breaking his heart piece by piece. He had lived next door to you for nearly a year and had never seen you like this. He had never seen you so vulnerable. So broken. You always carried yourself with such poise and grace, it was hard to believe that anything was able to break and crack you at the seams. But here you were, falling apart in Bucky’s arms proving that you were just as broken and human as he was.

Bucky, feeling the way your body racked with sobs, said, “You gotta breathe for me, darling.” He waited a few moments and after showing no improvement, he took one of your hands and placed it on his chest. His metal hand came to cup your cheek wiping away the tears that fell rapidly and bringing a coolness to your face. “Y/n, you gotta breathe.” Bucky took in deep breath and motioned for you to do the same. It took a few hiccups, but you soon followed after him. With every deep breath he took, you would do the same. Once your breathing was slowed and your tears weren’t falling as fast, you allowed your head to rest on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. You gently pulled away from Bucky’s grasp so that you were sitting next to him knees pulled to your chest. You were beyond embarrassed. You hated crying in front of people. It made you feel weak, but more than that you were always the person to offer their shoulder. It didn’t feel right for it to be the other way around.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, doll.” Bucky’s voice was soft. Warm even. He watched as you fidgeted in your spot, your brain racking with what to say.

“I, um, this is the anniversary of my ex’s death.” Bucky swallowed, his hand reaching out to grab yours in a reassuring squeeze. You sent a weak squeeze back, bringing your intertwined hands to rest on your knee. “He was in the army. We started dating a couple months before he went to basic. We did long distance during basic. After, he was stationed in New York for about three months before we found out he was being deployed to Iraq. The day before he left, he uh, broke up with me. He told me that he didn’t want me to wait for him. A month into his deployment a man from the army showed up at my door with a bouquet of hydrangeas.” Your voice cracked. “He was killed in action. IED. I guess I’m not over it.” You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth turning to face Bucky. “I just wanna be able to get through this day without feeling torn apart. I wanna move on.”

“You can’t just push away your emotions, doll. What you’re feeling right now will pass, but you gotta let it run its course. You lost someone you loved and I don’t know if that pain will ever truly go away. Not like you want it to.”

You exhaled shakily using the back of your hand to wipe away a few stray tears. “Thank you for being here, Buck.”

“I’m always gonna be here for ya’ doll.” He tugged you closer throwing his arm over your shoulders. “Anything you need me to do?”

“I just wanna be held for a little while.”

You allowed your eyes to flutter shut at the soft trail of kisses that Bucky left on your forehead. You’re not sure how long the two of you sat on your kitchen floor, but when Bucky gently shook you awake the sun was making it’s decent along the New York horizon.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed, doll.” The brunette’s voice was barely above a whisper.

You groaned in protest as he tugged you off the ground. You immediately wrapped your arms around his waist and Bucky visibly shivered at the heat of your breath against the base of his neck. “No. Stay. We can eat the plums I bought for you.”

A surprised chuckle fell from Bucky’s lips, his hands running up and down the length of your back. “You got me plums?”

“Us,” you corrected, “I got us plums and we can eat them if you stay.”

“Okay fine,” Bucky sighed, “But just so you know, I’m only staying for the plums not because I wanna spend time with my favorite girl.”

You raised an eyebrow an amused look covering your features. “Favorite, huh?”

“Always will be,” Bucky said casually. “Now, where are those plums?”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #fatws bucky #the winter solider x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Fixer Upper PART ONE (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: Nothing seems to go right in your new house. When yet another thing breaks, a certain handyman comes to your rescue.

W/C: 2k ish

Warnings: language, joking mentions of a house being cursed (it isn’t), reader has dirty thoughts bc it’s Frankie and he’s hot

A/N: this one goes out to my anons who’ve been sending me stuff about frankie as a repairman! I loved the idea and I thought it would be super fun to write! This will be part ONE of three-ish! ps idk if any references to reader’s gender are in this part but there certainly will be some in the future so.

It’s been a while that you’ve lived in this house. Since that day you hauled in the cardboard boxes, you’ve been feeling that your life is the epitome of Murphy’s law. Or rather, this damned house is.

Nothing ever goes right. The heat breaks in the winter and the air conditioning breaks in the summer. The plumbing needs work when you need it to work, and the oven only ever breaks halfway through cooking something. Seriously, you swear this place is cursed by some hex determined to pester you out of living here.

You’ve never exactly been the handy type. You don’t know much about mechanics, heating or cooling, the electricity and wiring in your house, any of it. By now, you wish you’d taken the time to learn it at some point rather than hiring someone every time.

The first sign was that the June heat seemed inescapable. You’d been outside all day, and you figured it was just your body taking its time to adjust to the cooler, indoor temperature. Then you never cooled down. When you stepped out of the bathroom after a shower and found the air to be nearly as muggy as that of the steamed bathroom, you realized that the air conditioning must be off.

Well, it was on. The problem was that it wasn’t working. You opened all the windows, and figured the night breeze would cool you, then you became worried about serial killers and crimes and promptly shut and locked all of them again. With the fan in your bedroom on, the air at least moved, but was still thick and heavy.

In the morning, when you wake with no blankets on and sweaty sheets, you dial the repair company as fast as you can. You inform them of the situation, and they tell you they’ll send someone out your way in the next hour or two.

The air is still somewhat cool outside, so you give the front porch a shot once you get changed out of your pajamas and take yet another cool shower. The heavy dew is an indicator of just how humid the air is, and you relish every little breeze that passes by and cools you down. You conduct your morning business outside, hoping to have this problem fixed before the sun reaches a height where the temperatures will rise exponentially.

About an hour after the call, the repair van rolls up into your driveway and parks. “Thank God,” you murmur to yourself.

Your focus returns to your computer, but you hear the door slam shut and look up to find the repairman there. He wears khaki cargo pants and a gray t-shirt, complete with a ball cap on top, with dark brown curls peeking out from the bottom. He fastens his tool belt around his waist as he walks up to the porch. “Hey there. I’m Frankie. I’ll be taking care of you today,” he informs you, a kind smile on his face. You already like him. “I got the basics from the boss, but can you tell me more about the problem?”

Looking up at him from the seated position you’re in, you give an awkward smile. Suddenly, you wish you’re better dressed, fixed up and looking nice. Even in work clothes, this man is beautiful. It makes you a little nervous, you in your pajamas and him looking like a god even in cargo pants. “I wish I could, but I don’t know anything about the air conditioner and how it works other than how to change the settings. All I know is that it isn’t working.”

He gives a good-natured chuckle, a soft bounce of his chest beneath the shirt. He looks down at his tool belt and his scruff brushes against the collar of the gray. “Well, let’s go give it a shot. I’ll need you to show me around, show me the control panel and the main system.” God, he’s handsome.

“Oh, of course,” you nod and stand, leaving your laptop on the small table. “Well, right this way. And please, you don’t need to take your boots off. Those look complicated,” you laugh as you look at the heavy tan boots at the bottom of his body.

Frankie nods and looks around as you lead him through the house. He doesn’t take his boots off, since you insisted, but he does give them a generous wipe on the doormat, careful not to track anything in. “It’s a beautiful place,” he tells you honestly, with a half-smile that just tugs at one of the corners of his ridiculously soft-looking lips.

“Thanks,” you shrug and show him to the control panel. “I try. Okay, here’s the button thingy.”

“The button thingy?” he teases, which leads to laughter from the both of you.

“If I knew what it was called, you wouldn’t be here,” you tease him back and shake your head.

Frankie uses the tools from his belt to take off the casing. You lean against the wall as he works, admiring the way his hands nimbly check the wires and paneling behind it. He holds a small flashlight between his teeth to look into the wall cavity.

“I can hold that for you,” you offer, and he moves his mouth for you to take it from him.

“Thanks,” he says, popping his jaw slightly to adjust from the awkward angle of holding it between his teeth. “You don’t have to. I’m just here to fix it.”

You point it at the same spot. “I might as well be some help, considering I don’t know shit about my own house.”

Frankie laughs at that, stealing a glance your way that makes your face warm before his gaze returns to the electrical situation. “Well,” he declares after a few seconds. “The wiring must not be the problem here. This all is working fine, so it must be with the actual system.”

“Great,” you groan. “The part I know even less about.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he chuckles and screws the panel back into place on your wall, making sure everything works properly and he didn’t mess with any functions.

Leading Frankie to your basement, you show him the cluttered laundry room and the central air conditioning unit. He’s already analyzing the system, and you back off to let him work. He looks focused. “Holler if you need me,” you tell him as he gets on his knees to look at something, daring to gently pat his shoulder. It’s strong, muscular beneath your palm.

Heading back to the kitchen, you open the fridge and sigh. For a moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes and just enjoy the cold air it produces. Hopefully, your house will be the same soon enough. Grabbing two tall glasses, you fill each with ice before pouring half sweet tea and half lemonade into the glasses.

You stand in the kitchen with the freezer open, sighing at the cool air it provides. Not sure how long he’ll take, you scroll through your phone. It’s surprisingly quick, you find.

“Hey, I found it!” Frankie calls from the basement.

Carrying the two glasses, you return to the laundry room to find him reorganizing his tool belt. “Here,” you tell him with a smile as you hold out the drink. “Least I could do. It’s unbearable in here.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and lifts the glass to you in a miniature salute before taking a sip. Frankie then launches into a detailed explanation of the issue with the A/C unit, using all kinds of terms you don’t understand and mentioning parts you didn’t even know were included in the machine. “I got it all fixed up, though, and it shouldn’t take long before it’s working just as good as normal.”

You sigh in relief, swallowing the sweet drink and smiling at him. “God, thank you so much. You don’t even know how awful it was in here.”

“If it’s anything like right now, I do,” he chuckles. The man takes the hem of his t-shirt and lifts it to wipe his face, revealing a muscular but soft body beneath it, with a beautiful little trail of dark hair leading to beneath his belt. Is it terrible that your first thought is that you want to lick it?

You force the image from your mind with another swig of the drink. “Yeah, just about. Well, how much do I owe you?” You ask the man, leading him out of the laundry room and into the basement that’s already feeling cooler.

“Oh, nothing right now,” he shakes his head as you lead him upstairs and to the kitchen. “I just tweaked some things for you, didn’t need any parts or anything, so it’s just gonna be labor.” He seems to remember something. “Ah, shit. I gotta have you sign something. I’ll grab the paper from the van and be right back,” he tells you and leaves his drink on the counter, half-jogging outside.

While he’s outside, you lean against the cool kitchen counter and let yourself daydream. This Frankie guy certainly is attractive, and his personality is definitely something you’re interested in. What if the situation right now played out like a porno, and he fucked you on the countertop? You certainly wouldn’t complain. You noticed his hands and feet are large. Certainly he must be big somewhere else too. “Oh Jesus Christ,” you murmur to yourself. Why did my mind have to go there? And why is the thought so hot? He’s a sweet man too, clearly goofy and sweet. Why is your mind going there then? Really, upon further pondering, you just want to hug the man, admire his strong body pressed to yours in an intimate but innocent gesture.

“Sorry, what was that?” Frankie calls out as he walks into the house again.

His voice snaps you from your daydreaming. “Oh, just talking to myself,” you say quickly and cheerfully, taking the paper from him. The top is printed with repairman name: Francisco Morales. Francisco. That makes you smile. What a cute name. The rest is filled with the details of what he did to the machine to fix it, and you sign and date at the bottom. “Here you go, Francisco.”

His tanned skin turns a little pinker on the cheeks. “Great,” Frankie smiles and takes it back.

“Before you leave,” you tell him quickly, darting to grab your purse from the entryway, “here.”

Frankie walks to you and you hand him a generous cash tip, with a stupid smile stuck to your face. “Thank you, wow,” he says, voice honest in its surprise as he notices the total of the money.

“Of course. I really can’t thank you enough. God, it’s been painfully hot in here and I really just can’t stand the heat,” you ramble, your voice speeding up. “And… yeah. Thank you. For your company, too.”

“Just doing my job,” he tells you with a smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh, here.”

From his pocket, he pulls a little rectangle of paper with his name and company on it. “The shop number is on here; if anything changes, just call and ask for Catfish.”

“Catfish?” You ask with a smile, puzzled.

“My old military nickname. It’s what the guys around there call me,” he shrugs, shy at the nickname.

It makes you laugh a little, and you tuck the card in your purse. “Well, Catfish, thank you. I’ll be sure to use this next time I have some stupid thing I can’t repair myself.”

“Please do,” he chuckles, a shy smile on his face. “I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks!” You call again and cringe. That’s, what, the ninth time you’ve said that now? He walks to the van and you give him a wave before retreating back inside. God, now you can’t wait for this shitty house to need another repair. You’ll certainly be asking for Catfish.

taglist:

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales headcanons #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales headcanons #francisco catfish morales #francisco catfish morales x reader #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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tsukikento · 3 years

Text

Empathetic Chapter 17

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: Had to write this chapter three times because somehow everything kept getting deleted!! I’m sorry for my inconsistent posting. Please leave comments, reblog, or send me asks if you like! They always keep me motived :)

(masterlist)

When you came back out for dinner, Bakugou was already sitting at the head of the table, eating away, and chatting away with Kirishima and Sero. To his left was an empty seat, but a plate filled with food.

I wonder if Bakugou made that or if someone nicer prepared it, you wonder as you and Ashido made your way to the table. If Bakugou made it, then damn. However, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kirishima made it or Kaminari who was on dish cleaning duty and needed to put away the leftovers. Regardless of who did it, they still sat you down next to Bakugou in your usual seat.

Don’t read into that, you told yourself as your sat down at the table. Instead, you focused on the delicious food in front of you that you immediately began to chow down on. You found yourself, much like Bakugou, simply eating away while Ashido, Kirishima, and Sero kept the conversation going. Both of you were much too hungry to stop and add your own commentary to the conversation.

Bakugou finished before you and chugged down his water before taking both yours and his glass to the kitchen to fill them back up. Gratefully, you mumbled out a “Thank you” before you continued to eat. Play it cool, he’s just being polite, you told yourself and Ashido proceeded to elbow you and wink.

You rolled your eyes at the pink girl and focused back on what was left on your plate.

Conversation flowed easily until Bakugou came back. The blond placed the cups onto the table before holding up his arms and stretching in a way that clearly showed his stomach. At this point, each of you were still in casual athletic clothes and his simple t-shirt lifted just enough to show his stomach.

It was an action you should be used the at this point. The blond often stretched without a care or used his quirk in ways that ruined clothing. And yet, you still found your face heating up and your eyes glued to the sight.

When he finally sat back down, he leaned in close to you. “I’m ready to go whenever,” He explained before leaning back into his chair and sipping on his water.

“Go where?” Sero, who was to Bakugou’s immediate right, questioned.

You looked to Bakugou, expecting him to reply. Not only were you hesitant to explain the situation and possibly misunderstand what Bakugou was thinking, but the blond typically made habit of answering anyways.

“The gym for yoga and cardio,” Bakugou explained, just like you expected. Luckily, it wasn’t any different than what you thought.

“Really?” Kirishima questioned, his eyes lighting up. “That sounds so manly!” He turned to look at Ashido, “Do you want to go do yoga and cardio too?”

“Um,” Ashido immediately turned to you, concerned that she and Kirishima would be intervening on your alone time with Bakugou.

Part of you wanted to welcome the company, ultimately nervous about having to hold up a conversation when neither you nor Bakugou were all too talkative. However, you spent hours alone with Bakugou each week and it wasn’t awkward then so why would it be different?

Bakugou also hates how couple-y they are so he may be more inclined to talk to me and spend time with me if they are there doing PDA, you thought before subtly nodding to Ashido.

“I’d love to go if Bakugou and Y/L/N don’t mind,” Ashido finally spoke after a few moments.

“I don’t care,” Bakugou measly replied.

“What about you, Sero?” Kirishima questioned, “Do you want to go too?”

“No way,” The black-haired boy replied, leaning back in his chair. “I had interning today and had to chase a villain down seven blocks, ugh!”

“Weren’t you using your tape though?” Ashido shot back curiously.

“So? It still drains me and my poor arms. I could not do yoga like this.” Sero flailed his arms around before letting them fall to his sides, effectively showing how absolutely dead they were. “I’ll just stay here with Kaminari and make him watch the new season of Galactic Guard again or whatever.”

“Your loss,” Kirishima jokes before chuckling lightly. “I’m going to go get changed, be down soon.”

Ashido followed him with the same explanation.

Awkwardly, you looked at Sero, expecting him to say something. You and Bakugou were already changed and had your waters with you, there was no reason for you to go upstairs. Unfortunately, due to the silence and the awkward atmosphere of a nervous you and an ever-rigid Bakugou, the black-haired boy immediately slid out of his seat, claiming to need water. However, you watched as he dropped his empty glass on the counter and simply talked to Kaminari.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your water, wishing there was more to do. Thinking on your feet, you stood up abruptly. “I’ll clear the dishes,” You said before stacking the plates and silverware. “Do you want your water anymore?”

Bakugou shook his head so you proceeded to grab his water, place it into your cup, and make your way to the kitchen slowly.

Kaminari and Sero greeted you happily and Kaminari immediately took your dishes.

Their rather boring conversation did not leave room for you to interject, so you simply made your way back to the dining table. Sighing, you grabbed your half-full water and reached for Bakugou’s as well. The blond watched you wordlessly.

You wondered if his lack of comment was a bad thing or if it showed comfortability and a willingness to let you touch his belongings.

As you debated the notion, you silently, almost like you were on autopilot, filled up the waters, and went back to the table. With nothing left to do, you sat back down into your seat and awaited the arrival of Kirishima and Ashido

“Thank you,” Bakugou said as you sat down with the two glasses of water.

“No problem” You replied. Despite this comment being typical for literally anyone to say, it still felt nice for him to say thank you. Maybe it was because he rarely used his manners.

Bakugou grabbed his water from the table and put it back into his bag. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you waited for Ashido and Kirishima. The only noise was the people talking in the kitchen and the small group watching television in the living room.

A few minutes passed by before the couple finally emerged from the elevator and greeted you both with wide smiles. Kirishima had on black basketball shorts with a red stripe down the side as well as a red hoodie. Ashido adorned a matching two-piece set of leggings and a conservative sports bra that was cheetah print. She also had on a black zip-up jacket that was currently wrapped around her waist.

You and Bakugou quickly got up from your seats, grabbed your belongings, and slowly made your way to the door. Ashido was by your side while Kirishima ran the kitchen to fill up his and Ashido’s waters. The pink girl moved from being attached to Kirishima’s side and was now attached to yours.

Giggling, she whispered in your ear, “Yet another double date!”

Sheepishly you rolled your eyes and dismissed the thought. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

“What?” Ashido questioned, moving away from you to give you a confused look.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” You shot back.

“I mean,” She began, emphasizing her words, “What does that even mean?”

“What does what mean?” You replied, absolutely clueless to the confusion.

“She’s asking what ‘don’t count your chickens before they hatch’ means,” Bakugou butted in as he stood opposite you by the front door. “Personally, I think it’s rather obvious.”

“Oh, shut it, Bakugou!” Ashido exclaimed, giving the blond a dirty look.

Laughing, you explained, “It’s just an American saying.” You debated how exactly to explain it before once again continuing, “Just because you have, say, 10 chicken eggs, 2 could break before they hatch and 3 more could be simply eggs, no baby in them. So, they saying means that you shouldn’t expect something until it happens. You can’t expect to have 10 chickens just because you have 10 eggs.”

Ashido harrumphed, clearing having trouble understanding. “Sounds dumb.” Something you also expected her to say considering she was the one ‘counting her chickens before they hatched’.

You shrugged, “It’s hard to understand sayings from other countries if you didn’t grow up around them. I’m sure some common Japanese sayings don’t make sense to me.”

At this point, Kirishima joined back in and made quick work of putting on his tennis shoes.

“My mom used to always say ‘even monkeys fall out of trees’ when I made mistakes,” Ashido explained, testing you to see if you would understand a common Japanese phrase.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” You replied after a few seconds to think it over.

“Dang!” Ashido replied as the four of you made your way out of the dorm and to the gym.

“What about this one,” Bakugou interjected. “My dad would say this all the time, ‘the stake that sticks up gets hammered down.’”

Oh, this one is definitely more complicated.

You tried working through the saying out in your brain, sure it had someone to do with being seen in society. “Um,” You began, “The person who stands out will…” You paused, unsure how to finish. Sighing, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.”

“Ha Ha!” Ashido shouted in joy. “It means the person who stands out is often subject to criticism.”

You nodded your head in understanding as she explained.

“How were you so good at those?” Kirishima asked.

“Well, word association is taught in elementary schools,” You explained, reminiscing on the problems you solved in second grade. “For example, we would get something like “cow is to barn as man is to ‘blank’ and we would have to fill it in.”

Ashido and Kirishima proceeded to exclaim “house!” while Bakugou simply nodded, actions that represented each of them rather well.

“Nice!” You laughed, high-fiving the two who guessed.

You rounded the corner at this point, entering one of the school buildings with multiple classrooms. You followed the group as they made their way upstairs and weaved through hallways. Fairly naturally, the conversation died down as the couple of Ashido and Kirishima clung to each other and dawdled behind.

Aggravated, Bakugou led your group, clearly annoyed with how slow they were. Honestly, you were pretty sure Ashido planned this so you could have alone time with the blond.

Trying to utilize this opportunity, you kept stride with the blond. “Pretty annoying, huh?” You asked, gesturing to the couple and silently apologizing for throwing them under the bus and using them as a conversation starter.

“Aren’t they always?” Bakugou replied, looking to the couple before rolling his eyes and groaning.

“Sometimes they are cute,” You shrugged, flashing a smile to the blond. “At least they’re happy, you know?” You asked, attempting to reason with them.

Bakugou simply “tsked” in reply. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t making me nauseous.”

“Very true,” You responded, unable to stop yourself from chuckling loudly. “Especially when they talk in baby voices and make little smooching noises!” You altered your voice slightly to mimic Ashido’s baby voice that you hear her only use with Kirishima.

Bakugou cackled loudly at the comment, clearly amused by your impersonation. “Or when they go off to each lunch by themselves, cuddling under a tree, and then coming back like giddy teenagers,” He added.

“Oh, yeah!” You animatedly exclaimed, “How could I forget? Kirishima ends up staring out the window all of class!”

As your laughter died down, the two of you arrived at the double doors that led to the small gym. Luckily, no one else was inside due to how late it was. In fact, you four might be here past curfew. Despite this, you entered into the gym which had a few different weight machines and treadmills as well as a room to the left that was dim and specifically designed for yoga.

You knew this was the gym that Ashido frequently used late at night but weren’t familiar with the layout. Slowly, you put down your belongings, chugged down a few gulps of your water and made your way into the yoga room. The room had too large baskets on wheels that came up to about your waist. Inside, were blue and white yoga mats with the school’s logo on it. It was for student use and cleaned every week, a small perk for going to such a prestigious hero school. By the time you grabbed a mat, you heard the large metal and glass doors once again opening. Waiting for the couple, you rolled out your mat and brought your water to your side.

Although you did yoga frequently and could easily start your own routine, you figured the four of you would want to do a routine together. Once inside, Kirishima and Ashido quickly came into the yoga room and set up mats.

“I’ll hook up my phone to the projector so we can play a video,” Ashido explained as she plugged her phone into a wire that connected to the projector.

You watched the pink girl search up a yoga routine that was primarily focused on stretching the body pre-workout. The video was about half an hour-long, so you simply prepared yourself by sitting on your knees and waiting for the introduction to finish.

Yoga went by rather quickly, which each of you silently following the video. You were all in your own worlds, thinking about your own problems or simply letting your mind go black as you followed the routine. You could tell it was something your mind and body was craving after a long day of theorizing and sitting at the desk.

Once the routine finally ended, you let out a big breath and stretched your body one final time before grabbing your water bottle to drink from. “Ah, that was so good!” You sighed, completely satisfied.

Kirishima and Ashido hummed in agreement as they rolled up their mats.

“And now it’s time to put that stretching to good use,” Bakugou added, as he passed by you with his own rolled mat. He grabbed yours, which you just finished rolling, and went to put them away. Once done, he made his way back to you and held out his hand to help you up. “Shall we go run?” He asked while he effortlessly pulled you up.

“We shall,” You replied, a wide smile on your face.

Bakugou had never, not even when he was kicking your ass in training, helped your up or touched your hand. Immediately, you felt heat spreading up your face and your heart beating faster.

Ashido, who was putting her own yoga mat into her bag eyed you suspiciously. Subtly, you gave her a surprised look and shrugged your shoulders. Bakugou inevitably let go of your hand after you were standing up straight. He was surprisingly warm and you held quickly went cold without his touching.

In an attempt to play everything off cool, you simply followed behind him, grabbing your bag and moving to the treadmill next to his. You placed your belongings down, took one last gulp of water, and got onto your treadmill.

Bakugou, who had already started, was going at a slow pace and you decided to follow in line with him. The slow speed was an ideal way to warm up your body and prepare you for a faster pace.

You didn’t have to wait long, however, because Bakugou soon sped up his treadmill by two. He gave you’re a clear look and you didn’t even have to take out your earbuds to know he was subtly saying there is no way in hell you will run faster than me.

After a few more strides, you also increased your speed, clicking three times to be running one faster than him.

Almost immediately, Bakugou gave you another look and increased his speed. This game of tug-of-war continued for a few minutes, each of you slowly increasing your speed in order to one-up the other. It was fun when you started slow, and you even found yourself smiling when you were running at a speed just below a sprint. However, you were now sprinting at a breakneck pace and craving this game to stop.

You once again, and quite stubbornly, pressed the up arrow to increase your speed.

Bakugou attempted to groan under his breath, but he was going too fast to have control over his voice and you clearly heard the roan of indignation. The blond pressed his finger onto the up arrow and increased his speed just as he had done before. This time, however, he notably did not go past your speed.

The both of you were now running at the same speed, and although you were tempted to go up at least one more to irk Bakugou, you knew it was best not to. It was all down to endurance now.

You focused your attention on running, moving your arms to help your speed, and focusing on your breathing to make sure you were taking in big and consistent breaths.

“Woah, Bakugou and Y/N-chan!” Kirishima’s voice rang through your ears. Despite only being two treadmills over and a total of 12 feet, you could barely hear him. “So manly!” If you were looking at him, you would see him send a cheeky smile to Ashido before increasing his own speed.

However, you were all too involved in your own competition to worry about him.

You felt your legs burn and crave for a break. You felt so hot that you were sure you were steaming. In fact, you saw steam.

Steam? You looked to your left from where it was coming and saw steam emitting from Bakugou’s palms. You could have gasped in surprise if you weren’t so already short on breath. The next thing to smelled was an intense caramel. Or is it burning sugar? You questioned as you realized it was coming from the blond next to you.

It smells so sweet, you thought, clearly distracted. It made you think of caramel apples at amusement parks, chewing on the delectable treat as you walked around, surrounded by vibrant lights.

You inhaled deeply, trying to take it all in. Suddenly, you tripped. The floor fell out from under you, and you did not have enough speed or traction to keep up. Quickly, you clutched onto the railings and got back up to speed. The difficult action, which would surely leave bruises on your arms, lasted only a few seconds. Although Bakugou noticed, he didn’t say anything, so you simply kept up with running.

However, now your body ached even more. All you wanted to do was stop and you couldn’t drag your brain away from the idea. You felt your limbs begging to slow down and you could no longer deny the request. Reluctantly, you slowed down the treadmill with a sigh. Bakugou immediately noticed the action and shot his arms up with a small “woop!” in excitement.

At least seeing him so excited was worth it, you thought as you finally stopped the treadmill.

With exhaustion running through your veins, you got off the treadmill and made a beeline to your water. Your legs gave out and you sat against the wall, arching your back to give your lungs room. You chugged a few gulps of the cool beverage before you brought your hands above your head. It was the best way to get air into your lungs and control your breathing again.

Bakugou quickly joined you, copying your actions but while standing up.

“Good job, guys!” Ashido exclaimed, giving you both a thumbs up as she jogged at a much more reasonable pace.

You returned the gesture before grabbing your water again. Slumped up against the wall, you closed your eyes. Mentally, you made a note to not go out running tomorrow.

While you rested, you heard Ashido and Kirishima turn off their treadmills and join you against the wall. They chatted amongst themselves while Bakugou sat next to you.

Immediately, the caramel smell emitting off him wafted into your noise and filled your senses with euphoria and anxiety. He smelled so good, and yet you were certain he was much closer to you now. You could practically feel his body heat against your left arm.

The chatter from Ashido and Kirishima provided white noise, while Bakugou’s sweet aroma and warm body provided the ultimate guide to sleep. Your tired body craved it and you slowly felt yourself falling deeper and deeper.

Too tired to notice, you slowly leaned to the left, your shoulder eventually touching Bakugou’s. It was slight, a small brush of skin, but the blond immediately noticed the action, who stared at your sleeping body which found comfort in the purchase of his body.

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you were woken back up. In fact, you didn’t realize you fell asleep until you were waking up and opening your eyes to the sight of Bakugou’s own crimson orbs.

Quickly, you noticed the feeling of a warm arm against yours and moved abruptly away.

You could feel the heat spread from your neck to your cheeks and ears. If you weren’t in such shock, you would have also been certain that Bakugou’s own cheeks blushed pink. You shook your head in confusion, pushing away the ridiculous thoughts that came to mind.

“S-sorry!” You stuttered out, your voice barely emitting a sound.

“It’s fine,” Bakugou confidently laughed, brushing off the topic. “I just thought you would want to head back soon since you are falling asleep.”

“Uh, yeah,” You mumbled, “Thanks.” Looking away, you set your eyes on all your belongings and began picking them up. Sometimes it was difficult to look him in the eyes. Despite how warm and entrancing they were, they made you feel hot all over and spread nerves all throughout your body. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stood all the way up and awaited Bakugou.

It only took a moment for the blond to stand upright after you. Gingerly smiling, you turned and made your way to the door.

“You guys coming?” Bakugou asked, walking backward so he could face the couple.

“Later,” Ashido mumbled, waving him away as she continued to smile at her boyfriend.

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment and turned to you, a signal to open the door into the empty hallway.

“Today was fun,” You remarked, sparing a glance at the blond as the metal door eased closed. “Although I am sure tomorrow will be tough.” You paused, thinking over your schedule, “At least I only have class tomorrow.”

Although you were too nervous to look long, you saw the blond smile shyly and nod his head. “Yeah, I’m just glad I am done with the assignment due in English tomorrow.”

“Ah,” You replied, “How I wish I only had English assignments instead of extra Japanese assignments.”

“You’ll need to learn if you plan to stay here,” Bakugou remarked.

You scoffed, “I would argue that my Japanese was quite good already.” Rolling your eyes, you spared a teasing smile to him.

“What about when you are given a paper report and expected to read it all in minutes? Or when you have to write a report after a mission?” Bakugou shot back.

You groaned loudly, simply imagining how torturous a kanji-filled report that you would need to run through quickly. “Maybe you’ll be nice enough to write my reports for me?” You joked, opening your eyes and pouting in an attempt to look cute.

Bakugou blew air out his nose in a short laugh. “Bold of you to assume that I would even hire you to work at my agency.”

“Rude,” You replied, knowing full well that this was all a joke. “I think I would be a good hire, I could keep you calm during idiotic interviews or meetings too.” You looked into his eyes, “So, you want to start your own agency?”

“Need to if I’m going to be number one,” Bakugou curtly answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well,” You began, “If I’m still in the area, and you are in desperate need of a hire, I would be happy to help.”

“Thanks.”

A small laugh and a brief look had your insides twisting. You once again felt hot. However, you were now, luckily, in the cool air of the night. You calmed yourself as the two of you approached the dorms.

Bakugou took a few quick steps to get ahead of you to reach the door. He moved to the side so you could enter in first and you smiled and nodded politely.

However, when you entered the dorm, your mood quickly changed. Practically every student was in the living room, some standing, some sitting. Most notably, Aizawa-sensei stood in the dining room, leaned up against the large wooden table, and clearly lost in his thoughts. Multiple sets of eyes turned to look at you. Your anxieties pooled in your stomach as you looked at your teacher.

Is it that bad that we are past curfew?

You felt Bakugou’s body pressed close up against yours. You were too scared to move, so the blond had to squeeze in. He was about to jokingly push you out of the way until he noticed the concerning scene in front of him.

You had no time to think about how comforting the action was, especially as he placed your hands onto your shoulders. He squeezed the slightly, but you were unsure if it was an action that was supposed to make you feel better or to make your move. You stumbled forward, but the blond hardly moved.

Aizawa cleared his throat and moved from his perch at the table. Silently, he approached you. “Let’s talk outside,” He whispered so only Bakugou, and you could hear. “Just you,” He elaborated, looking into your eyes.

You gulped and let Bakugou push you away so Aizawa could reach the door and lead the way out. You only snapped back to reality when your shoulders were suddenly cold at the lost touch.

“Okay,” You mumbled, stumbling to follow after your teacher. Maybe he was going to lecture us separately? You wondered, clinging to the hope that this was a simple scolding and not a disastrous event.

It must be my mom, what else would it be?

“Is my mom okay?” You immediately questioned when the door Bakugou closed was finally shut.

“Yes,” He abruptly replied, “Let’s talk this way.” He led you around the building to where there were multiple benches.

“My siblings?”

“Sit,” He spoke and motioned at a long bench.

You sat quickly, hoping it would make the news come quicker as well.

“There is no easy way to say this,” He began, “Please just listen.” Aizawa rubbed his eyes, clearly drained. “There was a prison escape at the North-Western prison. A total of 117 inmates escaped and are being rounded up. Your father is one of them.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #bakugo #bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfiction

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

Text

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 28: The Pot Boils Over

Warnings:” strong language, sexual themes

Summar: Juniper finally comes clean to Heisenberg…

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Their interactions for the following days didn’t fare better. Juniper was touchy and moody, almost bursting into tears at some of Heisenberg’s comments. He was at a loss, used to her being a bantering partner.

She’d started avoiding the workshop, from a mixture of the smell and her recent lack of patience for his joking. At night Heisenberg would frequently hear her crying softly when she thought he’d fallen asleep or while she hid away in the bathroom.

It broke his heart.

He knew she was suffering, but wouldn’t talk to him. When he would attempt to get answers from her it seemed to push her father away.

So he started focusing on work more, spending more time away from the apartment.

His worry worked its way into a sharp blade, slicing into him when his mind would wander.

Was it his fault? It must be. That’s why she wouldn’t speak to him…

The thought swam darkly around his brain.

How did he fuck up?

The worry was blanketed with anger and annoyance, his usual response to hard to process emotions. He knew what being angry felt like, it was normal. It was easier to handle, he thought.

But it made him simmer like a kettle, ready to boil over every second. The deeper he sunk into worry and self-loathing without any type of answers, the higher the heat rose on the kettle.

After their most recent spout, it finally did boil over…

Heisenberg sat reading at the table, smoking a cigar quietly. Juniper bruised herself with cleaning up the dishes after their most recent meal. The smoke hit her face, making her wrinkle her nose. For some odd reason it sent a sharp bolt of annoyance through her.

“Do you have to do that?” She grumbled as she wiped down the table with a damp rag.

“What??” Heisenberg looked up sharply, confused.

“Smoke at the table while I’m cleaning.”

“And? It never bothered you before.”

“It’s bothering me now!” She snapped.

Heisenberg dropped the cigar in the ashtray, fixing her with a narrow gaze. “Just deciding to be a complete bitch to me or does it just come naturally?” He barked, leaning back in the chair.

“Excuse me?” Juniper threw down the rag, turning to meet his gaze.

They stared down at each other for a long, tense moment. Juniper was the first to break, looking away with glassy eyes.

“You are such an asshole.” She began to walk away, hiding her face.

“Me?” Heisenberg stood, anger rising, “You’ve been treating me like shit.” He went after her, grabbing her wrist in a strong hold. Juniper stopped dead but didn’t look back at him.

“Why have you been acting so damn weird?”Heisenberg asked, his brows knotting together. His voice was rough and accusing.

“Getting all buddy-buddy with Donna?” He walked towards her, “Being quiet as hell around me? Acting like I’m going to bite, what’s going on?”

Juniper’s shoulders shook a bit, refusing to turn toward him. He didn’t take the silence well, grabbing her arm and forcing her to face him.

“Juniper, fucking talk to me!” He almost begged, “If I fucked up just tell me.”

He saw tears start to fall from her eyes, her lips trembling. Heisenberg heard the cups and plates in the cabinets begin to shake and clink together.

He took a breath, trying to calm his voice a bit, realizing she was much more distressed then she was letting on.

“Buttercup?” He wiped a tear away, “What did I do?”

Juniper pushed him away a bit, “W-we messed up Karl.” On the chairs fell away from the table with a loud clatter, papers swirled around them.

Confusion clouded his eyes.

“K-Karl,” she stammered through tears, “I’m pregnant!”

His grip fell from her, his face losing color. In the wake of his silence she started to blurt everything out.

“I've been asking Donna to teach me how to sew and make clothes so I c-could maybe make things later.” Her hands covered her face, “And I've been trying to c-collect things that wouldn’t be suspicious.”

Heisenberg stumbled back a bit, his lips a thin line. His mind was a garbled mess, stomach totally flipping as he almost lost his footing. The floor felt like jelly under his legs and thought hammered through his brain. So much made sense now but damn…it was a lot to take in.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” Juniper cried, “I thought you would hate me.” The papers and small bits of metal began to fly erratically around them, silverware rattled in the drawers as the kitchen knives threatened to pull free from the block.

She gulped, looking up at him, “Please say something. Say anything!”

She almost begged, “Just yell at me Karl, please!”

Heisenberg looked almost dumbfounded, eyes wide, as he asked in a low voice, “Buttercup, you’re pregnant?”

“Haven’t you been listening?”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so…I took a test.” She looked down, “And my stomach feels different…”

“Fuck.” Heisenberg whispered, crumpling into the kitchen chair. His hands balled into his hair.

Juniper stood still for a moment, trying to control her breathing. Everything in the room started to slow until the debris around them fell to the floor. The cabinets grew silent as the soft hum died. Juniper wiped her eyes with a shaking hand.

“How long?” Heisenberg’s voice was hardly auditable.

“About a month.” She admitted, padded closer.

He put his face into his hands, his thoughts a storm in his head.

“D-Do you want me to leave?” Juniper asked, her voice wavering.

He looked up suddenly at her, “Of course not! Just give me a fucking second ok.”

She nodded, worrying her hands.

It was a while before they had a real conversation about the matter, eventually sitting down to talk.

Shocked couldn’t begin to describe how he felt.

He shifted between bewilderment and fear.

“Heis…” Juniper knocked on the side of the doorway to the shop.

Heisenberg didn’t move, his chin resting on his folded hands, “Hm?”

“Can…can we talk?” Juniper’s voice was heavy, almost pleading.

“…sure.” He answered, his voice was not tinged with any ill.

She came forward, pulling up a chair to sit close to him. They sat in silence for a long moment before words tugged at her lips.

“You haven’t broken anything.” She observed, almost surprised.

“I’m not angry.” He said frankly, not moving his head to look at her.

“Then…what are you?” She ventured.

He mulled over his answer, not truthfully sure himself.

“Confused.” He finally admitted.

Juniper nodded in understanding, even though she had time to process everything.

“And a bit upset.” He went on, “That you waited so long to tell me.” Juniper opened her mouth but he continued, “We’re in this together…you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide shit from me.”

His words stung a bit but she understood his hurt.

“I’m sorry.” She reached out a hand, fingers finding his coat sleeve.

He gave a little rumble of acknowledgment.

“This also makes our lives a lot more complicated…everything is fucked.”

“Does it have to be?”

“Well it sure as hell puts me on a tight time limit on the whole ‘revolution’ thing.” He snorted.

When she didn’t speak he rattled on, “Your in danger…so much more than before. I’m not losing you again.”

His voice was determined, almost breaking under the weight of his promise to himself.

“And about…about the baby?” She held onto his sleeve even tighter, worry making her tremble a bit.

His lips were a thin line, eyes clouded. “We’ll figure it out…” he sighed, “Won’t let that bitch have it either.”

His words gave her a bit of relief; hearing his want to protect not only her but the baby quelled her fears of him rejecting the child altogether

“…you said you took a test?” He ventured, words breaking the silence that had blanked the room.

Juniper nodded, “I bought one from the Duke.”

“Where is it now?” He asked.

Juniper shifted uncomfortably.

“What did you do with it, Doll?”

“I…panicked.”

“Where?”

Her eyes teared up a bit, “I-I threw it off the balcony…into the scrapyard.”

Heisenberg gave a heavy, exasperated sigh. There was a silence between them for a moment before Heisenberg stood, “I have to find it.”

He paused, “What does it look like?”

“A little pink and white stick…made out of plastic.” She admitted.

“Of course it fucking is…”

It took him three days of sifting through scrap to find the test. When he found it he burned it until it was unrecognizable then disposed of it in the deepest reaches of the factory. Now that it was gone it gave him a small semblance of relief.

Even now Juniper acted like more of a mother then Miranda had: speaking fondly about the growing life and in the soft tones of her voice. The very fact she strove to learn new skills for the future child’s benefit spoke volumes to him.

He was still on the fence with how he felt, a mixture of fear and confusion. But seeing her be the thing he never had brought hope to flutter about his chest like a young bird.

Neither of them knew, or could recall, their true parents, no memories to guide them now. But they had each other and a dug in desire to keep this child safe.

The most important thing now was secrecy.

Heisenberg knew it couldn’t have just been a miracle of nature. It had to be the work of Mother Miranda, some sick scheme to breed a vessel from her strongest subject.

But fuck all of that.

This was his, his blood, his baby.

And he would do everything in his power not to let her sink her golden claws into it.

That night as they got ready for bed together Heisenberg practically scooped Juniper up and took her to the bed. She made little sounds of protest but he was persistent. Now that the immediate threats were sorted out he just craved comfort.

He flopped onto the bed, nuzzling into her. She wiggled into a more comfortable position on him, cupping a hand over his strong jaw.

“What’s all this for?” She smiled.

“You’ve been so worked up recently that you’ve been a prickly bitch to me for weeks…I just want to hold you ok.” He huffed out.

Juniper looked away, the guilt flooding back into her. She blinked away the threatening salt water, her heart clenching. She hugged onto him, “I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

He accepted the hug, nuzzling into her hair and huffing out deeply. “I know…” he murmured.

They lay there for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other’s heartbeat and warmth. Tension seemed to flow from them, the comfort washing away weeks of stress.

“I love you.” Juniper murmured into his chest.

“I love you too, buttercup.” He whispered back, dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head.

Heisenberg was still concerned for her and their situation beyond words, but the heaviness of the world could wait. He lay back, holding Juniper to his chest as he thought. The fact she carried his baby at that very moment still baffled him. Something deep in his heart sparked to life, burning brighter and hotter the more it all settled into reality in his mind.

He squeezed her softly, earning a little mewl.

Fuck…he was going to be a Father.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Dreams, Chapter 11

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 11

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2616

Summary: Another dream makes things more clear for the reader and less clear for Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w b u r n

The booths are those plastic-coated pressboard swoops that are so easy to clean, one row down either side of the long room once you walk past the counter to order. Like other pizza places, there are red pepper flakes and grated parmesan on the table, but they also keep ranch dressing in a minifridge behind the counter as a concession to Midwestern sensibilities. You know you’re just outside Dayton just like you know the pizza shop is run by a family, father and two older teenage daughters deftly throwing dough and scattering cheese evenly over it in a way that shows their years of practice. Dean sits across the table with his elbows on it, one forefinger and thumb picking through a plate of nachos between you. His black t-shirt, amulet, and lack of flannel make you notice the hum of the air conditioner in the background, straining over the 90’s alternative radio and reminding you that you’d been here in a heat stroke the summer after you and Dean had gotten together, his golden freckles and lightened tips of his slightly messy hair underlining the memory.

“They don’t serve nachos here.” It’s half statement and half question.

“Babe, it’s your dream. They’ll serve whatever you want. Does the pizza suck in Wisconsin or something?”

The two sisters are whispering to each other as they look over at your table, an almost-argument that ends with who you suspect is the older sister poofing a pinch of flour into the other’s face. They’re both cute girls but she’s adorable, soft cherubic cheeks and messy bun piling impossibly glossy hair on her head as she walks over to the table with a gigantic pizza. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a perfect welcoming cheerleader pitch.

“I think we’re good for now, sweetheart,” Dean purrs with a wink. That you remember; you’d playfully chastised Dean for dazzling the teens, laughing in his face when he’d said it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t help it if chicks dug him. The wink had proved your point then and now it makes the girl’s cheeks flush red.

She catches herself remarkably well, the stammer almost slipping under the radar as she assures you that you can “holler if you need anything!”

Dean brushes his fingers free of nacho debris and loosens a piece of pizza from the melting cheese of the ones next to it. “Last time you had all kinds of sweet nothings and questions for me and now you’re Silent Cal?”

“I don’t think this is real, but I’m pretty sure if I push it you’ll either die in this dream or I’ll wake up, so my plan is to stay here as long as we can.”

He drops the pizza back into the box and wipes off his fingers on a napkin before slouching into the booth, arm stretched across its length. “So test me then. Gimme a question only I would know or something.”

“Well if I ask you something that I know the answer to, my brain will just project you knowing it. See the problem?”

Dean squints and pouts in consideration, touch of a smile dancing across his face and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen may you be struck dead right now. “Then ask me something you don’t know the answer to.”

You think about explaining how that too could just be some part of your subconscious recreation of Dean but you don’t want to keep pulling at loose strings in the event that it wakes you up. It’s too hard to keep from smiling, seeing Dean charming and relaxed like this, and when you grin it makes Dean bite his lip. “What’s something I don’t know the answer to?”

“Ah, ah—I thought I’m just a hologram, how would I know?”

“Projection, but okay,” you stall. “Wait, here’s one. Sam said when I first started going on jobs with you guys that you had to have a conversation about staying focused. What was that all about?”

He runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Man, why would he tell you that?” he says under his breath, smirking mostly to himself before leaning forward to meet your eyes. “Fine. I’m not even sure that you’re going to remember this. There was a vengeful spirit in Indiana, some like homesteader guy, ring a bell?”

You have only the vaguest sense of recollection and sort of waggle your head to show it.

“It was way at the beginning of when you started coming on jobs with us. You and Bobby got into it because he wanted you to bring your own car so you could ditch us if we were ‘acting like cretins’ or some shit like that?”

That fits the last puzzle piece in for you and makes you chuckle. “He ended up giving me like $250 of mad money in case I needed a new room or a bus ticket, yeah. I remember.”

“I didn’t know that part but that’s gotta be the same trip. The whole thing was really stupid. Basically we were supposed to have your six but both me and Sammy wanted to carry a shotgun instead of doing that protection spell because it looked cooler. We were arguing about it when the spirit whipped a chunk of the barn’s scaffolding at you and we didn’t catch it in time. You heard it coming and ducked so nothing ended up happening, but it fucking demolished the wall behind you. It was a huge fuckup—thing could’ve taken your head clean off, you know? Sam was so broken up about it he was wasted for like a week solid after we dropped you back off at Bobby’s.”

“Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“I know, usually he does some kind of pouty baby bullshit. But I mean both of us felt really guilty that bitching at each other could’ve taken you out.”

Dean’s eyes rake over your face, seeming to linger over every inch like he’s going to draw a topographical map of it later by memory. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something but you can’t think of anything other than tracing each of his freckles where they dust across his nose.

A hand reaches over the table to run his fingertips along the back of yours, and that certainly feels real enough to send an ache into your gut. “What if you ask Sam? If he says that’s not what happened then you can keep saying I’m not real and you don’t have to listen to me.”

“But he already basically told me that. The only thing I probably wouldn’t have guessed about that is Sam getting drunk about it—these could’ve been just well-informed guesses about when it probably was or the kinds of things it seemed like he was implying.”

His lips press into a firm line and the barest touch of pink rises in his cheeks. “We, um, we pinky swore on it.”

The adorableness of his embarrassment makes you grin teasingly as much as the divulgence does. “A pinky promise? You guys must’ve been pretty serious to take such a sacred oath.”

He rolls his eyes at your ribbing and throws his hands back in his lap with a defeated smirk. “Laugh it up. Would that be good enough proof for you?”

It seems like Dean has figured out a loophole in the system, but you’re sure the light of day and Sam’s scrutiny will figure out why it isn’t actual evidence of communication with Dean beyond death, and you tell him that.

A curtain of suspicious confusion falls over Dean’s face. “Sam being weird about it is what’s keeping you from trusting this? Kid, I’ve been talking to Sa—”

And you woke up.

The bed was empty next to you but you could smell something sweet in the air and hear the light clinking of pots or pans Sam was trying his best to keep quiet. You blinked back a few tears of frustration—who even cared if it was real or not? Reliving a great memory with Dean was more than enough and instead of enjoying it you’d wasted a chance at some small respite from your constant ache of grief. And even then, you hadn’t used any of your time to figure out how the whole thing worked, how you could see him again.

But the most pressing issue was what you thought Dean had been trying to say before disappearing; that he had gotten through to Sam. Sam, of course, deserved to have secrets, but if he had been sitting on the resolution to all the angst you’d been struggling through in the last weeks (months?), you couldn’t imagine a reason why that wouldn’t hurt. Nothing would be solved by laying in your bed to sulk about it, though, so you threw on some clothes and went to brush your teeth.

When you came out, Sam was hunched slightly, the standard stove highlighting his decidedly non-standard height as he shuffled a pan’s handle. He had a dishtowel over his t-shirt clad shoulder, a habit from the bar that sometimes held over when he was in the kitchen at home, and bare feet under old jeans. They were wearing through at the knees, and you knew they were absolutely pajama-soft from having periodically thrown them in with your own laundry. Through the kitchen window, enough snow-brightened sunlight came into the room to cast him in a halo glow that gleamed off of his hair. As long as it had gotten, chunks still swept into his face as he looked down at the stove, and he tucked one behind his ear as he looked up, half-singing a Buddy Guy song that was playing softly. It was stunning—he was stunning, statuesque and strong and right there in front of you. Cooking you breakfast while you slept in, of all things, chocolate chip pancakes he had to have remembered were your favorite from ages ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had them and right now, nothing in the world sounded better. He beamed and tilted the pan toward you. “Morning! I made pancakes, you want some?”

And you should’ve just let the moment rest, sat in the rare bright winter morning and eaten chocolate chip pancakes and relished how well the boiler was working, maybe later in the day read a predictable murder mystery or taped off the living room to be painted and listened to REM until your shoulders were sore from running rollers up the walls all afternoon. Instead, about as stupid and weird a flop as if a toad had come out of your mouth, you said, “Have you been talking to Dean too?”

Sam’s face fell but not in the right way. There was too much angle in his brow and that confirmed it. “What?” he asked, but it didn’t land.

“How long have you been talking to Dean?”

He kept that curious smile for a second, like maybe he could push through by playing dumb and you would forget, but finally his lips flattened and his jaw clenched as he stacked a finished pancake on top of its predecessors. “Just because I’m having dreams about him doesn’t mean it’s really him,” he finally answered, softly and as though he was telling the bubbling pancake batter in front of him, unable to meet your eyes.

You felt the lump forming in your throat and tried to get the words out ahead of its solidifying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“For what?” He let go of the pan and turned toward you, supporting his weight on the countertop. “So we can both—”

“Both what? Be delusional? Is that what you were going to say?”

Sam didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was firm and he kept his eyes locked on yours.

“He told me you were drunk for a week after the hunt you were talking about.” You watched as Sam’s pupils widened a touch. “And that you didn’t just promise each other to buckle down, you pinky swore.” Sam’s Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see in your face that it is. Did you already know it’s really him?”

He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw. “I was pretty sure. Or at least I really hoped I was pretty sure.”

You felt more than consciously allowed your mouth’s falling open. “How? How long?”

“It just—I don’t know, it just felt different. I—uh, the first time was after we made those cupcakes; he asked about the cupcakes.”

You slumped against the countertop opposite him, speechless. He shoved the pan off the hot burner a little too hard, put a palm on either side of the stove to brace himself. The two of you stood like that for a long minute, the smell of chocolate not matching the stiff heaviness in the air at all.

“I don’t—what if it’s not real?” His throat sounded bound even though you couldn’t see his face, hulking mass of him spread across the tiny kitchen.

He seemed so defeated, so young, and then you couldn’t believe how selfish you’d been, not putting two and two together that something challenging Sam’s grip on or understanding of reality must shove him back to the brain melting torture he’d endured in the cage and the months—years, maybe, he was always so tight-lipped about it—afterward. What the fuck were you thinking, not seeing it before, how this could seem like a perfectly laid trap for Sam, the most poetic way to whip his mind into stiff peaks of meringue. It made so much sense why he would need time to really suss it out, see the situation from all angles and investigate, check and re-check. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away. This was not about you or your complicated need for him, it was about Sam, what he’d been through, what he was likely putting himself through even now.

“The, um, the pancakes smell really good.”

“Yeah?” There was half a laugh behind his words, humorless as it was. “I hope they’re okay, I know they’re your, uh, your favorite.”

“I’m surprised you remembered.”

Sam leaned on one arm to rub his face with his other hand. “Yeah, well.”

“Can I help?”

After a beat, he stood up and offered some space next to him on the stove. You worked hip to hip, sprinkling the chocolate chips while Sam flipped. He was scraping the last of the batter into a last little runt pancake with a spatula when you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, if sad, before setting down the bowl and covering as much of you as he could, folding over you like a protective shell. It reminded you of that dirty motel room, months and months ago, when Sam held you together as you cracked in his arms. All he could do then was be steadfast in reminding you he was still there, if nothing else was, and you hoped you were able to give him the same now.

You silently laid two place settings on the kitchen counter while Sam set the food out. He sat next to you and had picked up his fork when you touched his wrist to still him. “If it’s not real for you then I’m losing it too.”

Sam thought for a second, then raised his forearm and kissed the back of your hand where you held onto him before cutting into his pancakes.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 12

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gifted-burnout-archive · 3 years

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BLUE

Part Three

Day 23/93: Dallas, TX.

Word Count: 7.6K+

Author’s Note: it’s the third installment, and things might be heating up. song in this chapter is ‘Let’s Fall In Love For The Night’ by FINNEAS, it gives me such reggie vibes, and it’s most certainly a reggie x reader song. and if you are wondering why i know so much about dallas, texas and the surrounding area, it’s because i visited! it might be one of my favourite places on earth, and i felt required to include it in one of my stories at some point, so here you go.

Context: This is an AU of Julie and The Phantoms. Here, the boys are now alive again, aging alongside Julie and Y/N, and they are all now in their early twenties: Julie is 19/20, Y/N and the guys are 20/21. Same goes for Flynn and Carlos and Ray and all that jazz, basically everyone is older.

WARNING: abusive behaviours, drinking. Please see this post for more information.

If you are in need of help, please consider reaching out to domestic abuse hotlines in your country. This link leads to a wiki page with a few hotlines sorted by country. Remeber there are people who love you, and who support you.

part one is here - part two is here

“Where do I see myself in ten years?” Y/N echoed the question that had been asked of her as the team lounged around the front of the bus. From her spot atop one of the dining tables, sat crossed legged with her camera in hand, she had a view of her entire tour family: from Julie in the kitchenette with Alex, making Poptarts; to Flynn to her right, typing away frantically on her laptop. Luke was the one who asked her the question, sat across from her and throwing an unsolved rubix cube up into the air, and to his right sat Reggie, tucked in the booth seat corner scribbling away at his notebook, a smile on his face that had Y/N warm at the sight. “I asked you a far easier question, Patterson.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. I mean, I can tell you where I’ll be, where the guys and Julie will be. I can guess at Flynn but it depends whether she plucks up the nerve to ask out Carrie or not-” Luke was interrupted by his own chuckle, a reaction to Flynn flipping him off without looking away from her laptop screen. “But you? I don’t know.” He shrugged, catching the rubix a final time before pushing it over the table to Reggie. The dark-haired boy glanced up for a moment, looking Y/N over as she held up her camera and snapped a picture of him.

“Actually, I wanna know the same thing.” Reggie backed up his fellow bandmate, closing over his book and smiling at his friend when she rolled her eyes. “When you’re thirty, Y/N, where do you want to be?”

“Geographically? Emotionally? Ideally?” Y/N found herself avoiding the question because, quite honestly, she wasn’t sure how to answer. She hadn’t really thought what her future might hold, she hadn’t really had the chance to.

But being posed with the question, being asked for an answer, her lips started moving before her brain could register.

“Put me somewhere warm, and green: with enough money to be comfortable, enough friends to be sociable, enough booze to get drunk and enough beautiful things to take pictures of.” She offered, lifting her camera and snapping another picture as Reggie and Luke looked at her with soft smiles. “What about you, Reginald? Luke says he’s got you figured out.”

“I think what you’ve got going sounds pretty good, I might just join you.” Reggie smirked, only taking his eyes off of Y/N to glance over at Luke, the boy’s eyebrow raised and arms folded. “You know, in amongst the fifth album and rock star lifestyle.”

“Would that be the country album no-one expects?” Y/N asked with a grin, and Reggie’s eyes lit up.

“I mean, I’ll still learn fiddle if you’re up for it, Reggie.” Julie commented from the kitchen, returning from her snack making expedition with Alex in tow, the boy munching down on a Poptart like he’d never eat another: the boys had a tendency to eat like it was their last meal. “I mean, perfect place to start learning, Texas bound.” She added, cosying up against Luke, the pair sharing a kiss before she handed over the frosted sweet treat.

“Why didn’t we know you were from Texas?” Flynn questioned, her eyes finally leaving the computer screen to accept a snack Alex offered, who then grabbed another from the plate and handed it to the photographer sat on top of the table. “I mean, I found out from Y/N last week.”

“It never really came up.” Reggie shrugged, sitting up straight to make room for the blonde drummer, their bus taking a sharp turn. “I mean, I only lived here until I was ten: once my dad sold his company off we made the move to California as quickly as possible.” he explained, he and Y/N sharing a small smile.

Their night under the stars had bled into the early morning as they retold their lives to one another, making sure to cover almost every detail: Y/N didn’t mention Stephen, for more obvious reasons than either of them cared to admit. Reggie had told her all about growing up near Dallas, about learning to ride his pony Flash, about his parents thinking the move would fix their marriage, but how it ultimately didn’t. He. Of course, left out some key details too…

The last thing Y/N needed to know about was his dad’s violent fits or his mother’s excessive drinking.

“Glad to be back though… And since we have the whole afternoon and night to ourselves…” Reggie pointed to Flynn for confirmation, her nod causing attention to focus back on the bassist. “Flynn and I have a plan for the night.” Reggie beamed when Y/N clapped her hands in excitement, though his other bandmates looked a little sceptical. “I promise, it’s fun.”

“Reggie, your idea of fun before you met us,” Alex gestured between himself and Luke, who sat across from them, cuddled into Julie’s side. “Was shovelling horse shit at some dilapidated stables and pretending you were a cowboy.”

“Yeah, well, I was supervising.” Flynn sighed happily, closing over the laptop she hadn’t turned off in almost two days. The band wanted to get some recording done in Nashville later on the tour, a surprise they had all constructed for Reggie’s upcoming birthday, but a complication with bookings and the admin over in Tennessee had risked the possibility of it happening. Of course, Flynn hadn’t stopped emailing and calling until it was sorted. “It’s going to be an amazing night. With no horse shit involved, metaphorically and literally.”

“ETA, ten minutes from Dallas folks.” The radio crackled over the sound system, that had spent most of its time being used to play background music as they travelled, with Ronnie sharing their travel information quickly. “Paparazzi inbound, unfortunately.” He added, groans echoing around the cabin.

The last year in particular had been hounded by reporters and gossip columnists looking for the latest rumours to spread about the team. The lies ranged far and wide, from Luke and Julie breaking up to Alex cheating on Willie to them all being part of a cult to Reggie ‘notorious’ love life. The bassist was the last single one of the band, it only made sense that with their rise to fame came constant claims from anonymous girls that Reggie was their boyfriend, their husband, their baby daddy.

“Hotel security say they’ve got it under control, but I doubt it.” Ronnie added, and with that the six set into action to get ready for their swift departing from the bus. Poptarts were quickly eaten before everyone was back on their feet again: Luke and Julie taking on the pre-assigned role of collecting instruments together and packing them away for the moving crew, Alex rushing to his room to grab his last few necessaries that would live in his fanny pack for the next few hours, Flynn disappearing into the back to make one last phone call about interviews happening in Austin two days later with Rolling Stone, leaving Y/N and Reggie alone in the bus’s centre.

“You’ve been looking like Luke the past few days, Reginald.” Y/N spoke up first, slipping off the table and grabbing her camera bag from the overhead storage, beginning to dismantle her device as Reggie fiddled with the rubix cube Luke had left on the table. “Constantly scribbling… I haven’t seen you ever write as much as you have on the bus these past few weeks.” She remarked again, her hands methodical and practised in her work, quick to pack her camera up and close the casing.

“I found inspiration, what can I say?” Reggie said with a smirk, his fingers flicking the cube round and round with practically no effort, his eyes focused on Y/N instead of the colour puzzle before him. “Did you bring any hoodies with you?” He asked, suddenly changing the topic, and Y/N shook her head. She wasn’t really needing to: after all, their US tour was taking place in the summer, they had planned the route rather meticulously to miss the southern heat of July or the rains and wind chill that came to the north in April and May. Constantly travelling away from bad weather meant the need for anything warm had crossed Y/N’s mind, save for the occasional cardigan or blanket.

“Why would I need one?” She asked, walking towards the back of the bus with her equipment as her phone started to buzz in her back pocket. “Shit…”

“We don’t want the paparazzi seeing your face, do we?” Reggie questioned quickly. “Grab one from my room before we jump off.” He added as Y/N picked up the phone, mouthing a thank you as she answered and disappeared into the back of the bus, slipping into Reggie’s room to locate her disguise and shutting the door quickly.

“So we just don’t talk now, is that it?” The voice that came down the line was angrier than usual, and Y/N took her first chance that day to catch a glimpse of the time, Reggie’s bedside alarm clock reading 4.38 pm.

She had forgotten to call Stephen for the third time that week.

“Babe, babe I’m sorry. We were all just chatting and I got caught up in work and completely forgot.” She tried to explain quickly, her face falling when she heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Did… Did something happen at work?”

“I want to bring you home for a few days.” Stephen spoke up after a moment. “After Nashville. I know you guys are busy with the tour, but do you think you could talk with Flynn? Get someone to cover the Florida and Alabama gigs so we can maybe spend some time together?” His voice was sweet, sincere, and Y/N found herself smiling at the idea. Of course, it wouldn’t be great for the team, but would a few days really hurt?

“I, I think that would be a great idea, babe.” She answered as she opened up Reggie’s drawers, taking a moment to pick out her favourite on his hoodies, one with a rather terrible calculus joke printed on the back, and pulling it on over her travel clothes. By the sound of Reggie’s plans, she’d need to change for their events that night, but she had some clothes laid out in her own room, she could scoop them up and change in the hotel. “I’ll have to make sure with Flynn, it obviously depends on whether we can get one of the assistants to step up for a few days, helping with Julie’s make up and the guys’ clothes and such but-”

“You know Flynn will be alright with it, just say yes already.” Stephen chuckled on the other end of the line, and a part of Y/N wondered if she should just say yes without checking, if she should just this once not fight him on it. Stephen was always in the right on these things, she often challenged him regardless.

Unfortunately, she just couldn’t hold her tongue.

“Babe, that’s not how my job works.” She remarked, walking out Reggie’s room and back to her own with a smile to Alex as she passed by him sifting through some music sheets Y/N didn’t recognise, no doubt new stuff the boys and Julie had been writing. As the bus slowed down a little too suddenly, Y/N grabbed for stability on her wall, waiting to straighten herself back out and continue talking as she collected her necessary items for their evening in Dallas. “I do still need to book time off, to run through procedure with my temporary replacement, to plan ahead at least two weeks in case of an emergency, the whole team do. It’s a lot of work, and I’m happy to do it but-”

“Am I really the bad guy for wanting to bring you home for a few days? So we can sleep in our bed together, so we can see our families?” The heavy sigh from the start of the call came back. “Y/N, you’re acting like you don’t want to spend time with me anymore.”

“I do want to spend time with you, Stephen! You know I do!” Y/N promised it, almost pleading. “But this tour was always going to happen; I skipped out on the last tour to spend time together…” She reminded him. The fact that she had done so, missing on a West Coast trip for two weeks that she wanted to go on, that meant something to Stephen at the time. It was certainly a big decision for her to make, choosing her boyfriend over her friends, her best friends…

“You are coming home after Nashville, alright?!” Stephen snapped, and Y/N had to move the phone away from her ear to stop the harsh noise from echoing around her head. “You are my girlfriend, when I ask you to come home you do it. Or is everyone else in the entire world more important than me?” He asked.

“Of-of course not, baby… I’ll,” Y/N took a deep breath as the bus came to a halt, the sound of her friends outside her door forcing her to quickly roll up her clothes and stuff them into her handbag. “I’ll see you in Nashville, we’ll go home after, we will… I’ll be sure to sort it all out with Flynn and the team.” She conceded, the idea of a week off suddenly sounding like much more of a chore than it had a few minutes ago. “I love y-”

The phone hung up before she managed to finish the words, but a part of her was happy she didn’t have to say it.

“Y/N?” Julie’s voice accompanied a rapping on her bedroom door, Y/N quick to grab her things as it creaked open, the shorter girl looking back into the main area of the bus as she entered. “Are you ready to go?” She asked, stopping dead for a moment once she turned to face Y/N.

“What?” The photographer asked, trying to offset the tension created by Julie’s frown with a soft chuckle, but it did little to assist. Julie took a few paces forward, the girls toe to toe, and reached a hand up to wipe a tear from Y/N’s cheek she didn’t even notice was there.

“IS everything alright, Y/N? Did Stephen do something?” Julie asked with more seriousness than Y/N had heard from her in years: the girl was always playful in her tone, a fan of a joke, but this was new, intense, the concern almost scary.

“Everything’s fine. I had something in my eye.” Y/N lied, putting on her smile and giving a convincing enough performance that Julie seemed to let the subject go, the girl nodding and walking out of Y/N’s room, back to the band and Flynn, prompting Y/N to follow behind before she was left alone. She checked in the mirror to make sure her face was clear of signs of upset before joining the back of the queue.

That was too close for her liking.

“I knew you’d pick that one.” The voice was Reggie’s, a happy remark at her choice of camouflage as he let Julie and Luke pass by him, their four friends heading out into the chaos of camera flashes and loud voices badgering for gossip. Y/N froze a little at the noise, Reggie quick to notice and take her camera bag for her, his free hand offering itself to her. “Grab on, I’ll get you through without a scratch.” He said with that same charming smile she had always found so suiting for him.

“Promise you won’t lose me to the sea?” She asked, half-joking, half-serious. She had been lucky enough to miss most of the band’s brushes with paparazzi, or manage to slip by them without a second glance if she was with the crew: but she was on the bus this time, she was going to pass through them no matter what. It seemed to her better to do it with someone instead of alone.

“I promise.” Reggie recited back to her, and Y/N took his hand tight in her grasp as a response, the feeling sending tingles up Reggie’s arms that he did his best to stifle any physical reaction from. With that, and a shared nod, the pair started in a jog out the bus, into the mayhem.

Y/N hadn’t often thought about why she disliked her picture being taken: she wasn’t sure what it was that stopped her from being in front of the camera and instead behind it. And while the utter anarchy of flashes and incessant questioning weren’t the true cause of her strain of scopophobia, Y/N deemed them as reason enough to hate everything about being on camera.

It made her even more grateful to have gotten indoors, the few seconds of exposure from the bus door into the air conditioned hotel lobby feeling like years: gave her an overwhelming sense of relief, after changing into her outfit for the night, a rather lovely white lace dress and accompanying tennis shoes, to find their mode of transport for the evening in the hotel’s basement, an old blue Cadillac, a 62 series in fact, waiting with an attendant who promised any and all reporters had been cleared off.

The early May weather was ideal for the open topped car drive west from Dallas city centre, Y/N tucked into the front passenger seat as Reggie drove them, Flynn, Julie, Alex and Luke squeezed into the back of the car, singing along to the radio over the sound of the wind rushing past them. It was almost movie-like, ‘Amarillo´ blasting as they drove down the highway, Reggie glancing over at Y/N every once and a while to send a smile her way while he kept an easy control on the wheel, one arm holding the car straight while the other rested on the back of the bench seat, dressed like he belonged at the steering wheel with his black muscle tank on.

Despite the unsure waters she sat in with Stephen, Y/N found herself relaxing into her seat properly, with Reggie’s arm moving down to rest against her shoulder as they drove out of the city, here camera poised and capturing snapshots along the way.

“So, where exactly are we going?” Alex questioned from the back as they passed their second possible turn-off, the mounting suspense too much for the blonde to bear. He had come a long way with dealing with his anxiety, but not that far, and when Reggie and Flynn shared a glance, it seemed high time the truth was revealed about their activities for that night.

“So, obviously this is my home turf.” Reggie started off by saying, taking a moment to remove his arm from Y/N’s shoulder and indicate hi changing lanes before returning it to the preferred spot. “But one place I loved more than anywhere else in Texas is Fort Worth. It’s like, cowboy country.” He had the biggest smile on his face as he revealed their location, Y/N snapping a picture. “They have a stockyard and cattle parades and a cowboy museum and this huge maise maze. Of course, we can’t do all of it, I mean by the time we arrive half the places will have closed for the night, so I’ve compromised and with Flynn’s help, we have two stops tonight.” Reggie pulled off at the correct junction, speeding along the slip road towards Fort Worth.

“We’re going to a rodeo, and a honky tonk.” Flynn informed the group, the four friends without any previous knowledge of the evening’s plans sharing glances.

“Uh, that’s great… But what exactly is a honky tonk?” Luke asked on behalf of the group, the questioned directed at Flynn, but when she just shrugged, as oblivious as the others, all focus was on Reggie for an answer.

“It’s a massive music venue, actually this one is the world’s biggest. They’ve got them all over the south, mainly for country music. Huge dance floor, tons of seating: food, drink, pool. Billy Bob’s is the best, hands down: think of any big country artist, I can guarantee they’ve played there at some point.”

“Billy Ray?” Flynn asked first.

“Yep.”

“Willie Nelson?” Alex next.

“Like, a dozen times.”

“Dolly Parton?” Y/N asked next, Reggie nodding fast and smiling at her.

“We are headed to the home of country music history, folks.” He announced, followed by a whoop that had the whole car laughing away, all smiles and sincerity. There was nothing quite like seeing Reggie happy: he just turned into a sun, their sun, lighting up the entire space around them, his joy infectious and seeping into the cars around them.

The rest of the drive into Fort Worth went by as any car ride the six friends shared often did: with an excessive amount of singing, Alex complaining about Reggie’s speed on turns at least four times, and Luke giving Julie the same lovey dovey expression he had kept plastered on his face for her since high school. By the time they were pulling into parking lot nearest the rodeo, the sun was tickling the horizon, close to dusk, streetlights starting to flicker to life on the nearby streets.

One said streetlight sat right by the rodeo entrance, and under it stood a rather short lady waving enthusiastically at their car.

“I can’t decide whether she’s cute or crazy…” Flynn leaned forward and muttered in Y/N’s ear, causing the girl to try and stifle her giggle at the comment. The boys and Julie were first out of the car, Reggie taking the lead and getting to the woman waiting for them before Y/N had even had time to grab her camera bag, though the girl soon rushed over with Fynn to join the rest of the group.

“Uh, right! Guys, this is Naomi. She is a city coordinator, helps visitors like us feel at home. Naomi, this is Luke, Alex, and Julie, who you probably know of. That’s Flynn, our band manager, and Y/N here is our photographer slash make-up artist slash general beauty guru.” Reggie was quick to introduce, Naomi wasting no time in giving each member of the friendship circle a tight hug.

“Well, welcome y’all.” She said once she had let go of Julie, the last to embrace. “Now, the rodeo has another thirty or forty minutes until it starts, and I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you, Miss Molina?” Her accent was thick, the sort of deep south accent you might expect from the state, with the Texan twang that Y/N could sometimes slip into Reggie’s own cadence.

“Oh, right… I forgot to mention.” Flynn muttered, Julie glancing between her best friend and the older woman with raised eyebrows.

“Well, Julie, we were hoping you might do us the honour of singing the anthem tonight? When we heard Julie and the Phantoms would be visiting, well the whole council just knew we would have to give it a shot and ask.” Naomi explained with the sweetest smile and warmest eyes Y/N had ever seen: they were the sort of deep chocolate brown that, when the light caught them just right, turned into a sea of gold flecks over hazel iris. She lifted her camera, zooming in and capturing the woman’s side profile discreetly as Naomi awaited Julie’s answer.

“I’d love to.” Julie responded to the celebration of the council member before them, who let out a squeak of glee.

“Oh, thank you so much darlin’!” She exclaimed. “Now, the rest of y’all can go have a nose around the area, some of the stores around here might still be open, Cavender’s across the way will be. Get yourselves some souvenirs, some hats, try and blend in with the folk round here.” Naomi offered, and it seemed to be sound advice: for the people starting to arrive for the rodeo that night, almost all of them were wearing the signature cowboy hate one associated with Texas, matched with the boots and buckle belts. Naomi herself had a hat atop her black waves of hair. “I’ll take Miss Julie here in and set her up with her mic and all.” She explained, and with nods of agreement shared amongst the group, alongside a quick kiss between Julie and Luke, the lead singer disappeared into the building.

“You, me.” Flynn said, grabbing onto Y/N’s hand and starting a march around the corner towards the bright shine marking their clothing destination. “I can trust you to pick out the best accessories for everyone, Y/N, and I want some cowboy boots.” Her determination left Y/N’s happily helpless, following after her friend in search of head gear and footwear suitable to the region.

The boys wouldn’t have been too far behind them, the three walking in a lazy line towards the same destination, though their amble compared nothing to Flynn’s near sprint, each of the bandmate’s taking in the atmosphere of the place they had landed themselves in for the night, Reggie most of all. He grew up in the Lone Star state after all, and their walk along the side of the rodeo and the connected Billy Bob’s Honky Tonk brought back memories Reggie had forgotten after almost twenty years since his last visit.

He was reminded of the way everything smelled, of how the air tasted, of how the sound travelled from street to street. He recalled the old junctions, walking the memory alongside his younger self, found himself reminiscing about his fond childhood in the area before his parents’ marriage fell apart.

“You know…” Luke’s words broke Reggie from his day dreams, the guitarist walking backwards in front of Reggie and Alex, pulling his backpack around to the side of his body. “I was hoping you might spare me a minute to talk about your latest work, Casanova?” He continued, coming to a stop and prompting his confused bandmates to do the same, though the words quickly began to make sense when Luke revealed a black notebook from his bag.

A black notebook that wasn’t Luke’s own.

“Really, dude? Taking my shit off the bus?” Reggie reached out to retrieve the journal from Luke’s hands, but the guitarist held it back, opening to the bookmarked page and shaking his head as he read.

“Calm those horses, Reggie… This is really good.” Luke was often one to tease the bassist on his writing ability, Luke was definitely the stronger of the pair, but the compliment caught Reggie quite off-guard. Before he could refute the statement, Alex was by Luke’s side reading, mumbling the words as Luke’s sang out the chords Reggie had scribbled down.

“… That is really good… When did you write this?” Alex asked, looking up at the red cheeked raven-haired boy before him and Luke.

“I just… I was inspired, the touring life certainly helps when I need inspiration.” Reggie shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he did.

“Sure, it’s 100% not Y/N that’s got you writing love songs…” Luke teased a little more, Alex punching the boy’s exposed bicep in response. “Ow?” He questioned, but when Alex shrugged in response, the pair looked back at a now frowning Reggie. “Dude…”

“It’s just songs…” The bassist sighed, running a hand through his hair and glancing over towards the nearby store, making sure Y/N was nowhere in sight or earshot when he spoke up again. “Never going to perform them, am I? Not when she’s with him…”

“You say that like we prefer Stephen over you.” Alex snorted, and Reggie glanced up at him in confusion. “What? It’s pretty clear to me who Y/N should be with, think it’s pretty clear to everyone but Y/N who she should be with…” He muttered the last part, arms folding as his head ducked down. The words though, they gave Reggie a sliver of hope he hadn’t been offered before: he had thought his interest in Y/N delusional at best, psychotic and cruel at worst, but knowing his friends thought they were good together, that it wasn’t all in his head, made Reggie feel a little better about the love songs he had found himself writing in the weeks prior.

“What you guys talking about?” A call from across the road had the three boys pretending to act natural: Luke quickly shoving the songbook into his backpack while Alex and Reggie tried to seem innocent, like they weren’t just talking about the girl who had asked the question.

Of course, upon second glance, Reggie was left speechless anyway.

Y/N crossed the road with Flynn by her side, the pair accessorised like true Texans with hats and boots, armed with bags of attire for their friends, but Y/N was more than having fun: she looked absolutely beautiful. Her white sundress with its v neckline pulled taunt against her chest now she had added a brown leather belt to her look at her waist, her tennis shoes swapped for a pair of cowboy boots, a hat finishing the look. She presented herself as a local, and Reggie found himself trying not to gawk too much.

“We have hats to go around.” Flynn announced as they came withing twenty paces of the trio, pulling the first from her bag and tossing it towards Luke, who caught the thing with ease. Y/N passed one to Alex as she came to a stop, Flynn fishing a second from her bag and setting atop her own head.

“And for the homegrown.” Y/N handed over the bag in her hands to Reggie with a smile, watching with eager eyes as he lifted out a deep brown hat that fell somewhere between Wild West Sheriff and Indiana Jones, and a belt with ‘TEXAS’ engraved into the buckle. “Need to rep the home team, Reginald.” She added, clasping her hands in hope of a reaction. “You like it?”

“I love it…” Reggie whispered, nodding his head as he spoke, taking a few seconds to take in the items before putting the first on top of his head, a perfect fit, then standing up to loop the belt through the unused belt loops of his jeans, a silly grin on his face as he caught his reflection in a nearby window. While Alex, Luke and Flynn started their walk back to the rodeo venue, the latter armed with a hat for Julie as well, Y/N feel into place beside Reggie, she too admiring their reflection in the glass surface, taking the hat off her head for a moment to rest her cheek against Reggie’s shoulder.

“We look good, Reginald…”

“We sure do, Bug.”

Alcohol and unchecked emotions never really mix. After Julie’s performance, and then a night of Y/N hiding her eyes in Reggie arm as bull riders were bucked from the creatures, and using the complimentary liquor provided to take her mind off of her paranoia, heading over to Billy Bob’s next door shouldn’t have been on her cards. She was already buzzed; she should have taken up the offer from Naomi for a lift to the hotel…

But she didn’t want to miss Reggie.

The pair had been inseparable for the entire night, like they usually were on tour: except Y/N was drunk for the first time in a while, and trying to work off her argument with Stephen earlier in the day, she wasn’t letting her Reginald out of sight. He didn’t mind, of course, he always liked her attention, and if he let his mind wander it felt like, for a moment at least, it felt like they were something more. Y/N cuddled into his side, his arm around her shoulders, their friends around them.

With the bar doors opening came a wave of music and cheers: a local band were playing that night, one Reggie seemed vaguely familiar with as he hummed along to the song.

“Hi, we’ve got a table booked under Naomi’s name?” Luke called over the noise to the hostess by the door, Julie tucked into his side, more in an attempt to keep Luke walking straight. There were plenty of perks to being a resurrected ghost-human hybrid: alcohol tolerance was not one of those perks.

“Indeed you do, folks! Lemme just take y’all over, we can get you some drinks too if you’re up for it?” The hostess offered with a cheery smile, slipping out from behind the bar and beginning a quick walk down towards the dancefloor. Alex and Flynn were hot on her tail, Reggie and Y/N ambling along behind, keeping the lanky blonde in sight for reference, while Luke and Julie abandoned the group altogether for the dancefloor as a slow song came on.

“Could we get four, beers?” Alex asked as he and Flynn sat down, catching Y/N by Reggie’s side about fifteen paces out. “And uh, could you open it under a tab. Luke Patterson.” Alex added, pulling a backpack from his shoulder Y/N didn’t even realise he was in possession of, and retrieving Luke’s card from the front pocket, handing it over to the hostess.

“I sure can do. Can I just say, I love your guys’ music, we have it on in here before we opening almost every night.” The hostess said with a bright smile, a blush rising to her cheeks as Reggie smiled back at her, coming to sit down across from Alex and Flynn. “I’ll get those drinks right away.”

“I forgot that bedroom eyes were a thing…” Flynn mumbled as the hostess left, reaching out and clasping onto Y/N’s hands from across the table. “We should both be in bed. We have actual jobs. These guys can party but just watch what happens when we wake up with hangovers tomorrow and the whole day falls apart.” Flynn prophesised for Y/N, who squeezed her hands in reassurance. The smile on her friend’s face though as her drink arrived told Y/N that they were too far gone to stop at any point soon, and as such, the four friends clinked beer bottles as their night began.

Minutes were quick to turn into hours, one bottle of beer equally swift in turning to multiple rounds and shots on the side. Within the first hour, Y/N opted to switch her phone from silent to off, tired of the constant calls from Stephen, no doubt wanting to question her whereabouts. By hour two, she had convinced Reggie to spare her a dance or two. By hour three, that had turned to more than twenty songs on the dancefloor alongside Julie and Luke, the four only stopping to grab their refreshments as Flynn and Alex spent a large portion of their evening winning card games against the table to their right.

“Alright, alright, alright! Hey, thanks guys!” A booming voice called as a man ran up onto the stage, the band disappearing off as he took over the centre mic as hour four came close to finishing up. It was almost one in the morning, by what the rather buzzed tour team could tell, and the night was very much still young. Alex and Flynn had joined them all on the dancefloor, the slow dances and coupled dance offs between Juke and Reggie and Y/N forming into a dance circle of the friends showing off their best line dancing moves: Reggie was quite clearly the winner of that one. “We all having a good night?” The announcer asked again, and the crowd of the honky tonk cheered in response.

The place was deceptively large: it had taken Luke a solid twenty minutes just to find the bathrooms earlier in the night, and he got so lost on the way back, a mixture of his over-friendly nature once a bottle of beer was in him and simply the sheer amount of people in the building, that Flynn had to assist Julie in finding him.

The group all stood together near the centre of the dance hall as they watched the stage over the heads of their fellow patrons, Alex boosting Y/N onto his shoulder so she might see better. As she hugged onto the blonde’s back, another few people pushed through the crowd to ask the band for autographs.

This was the other common occurrence of the night: when they weren’t dancing or winning money off of Texan cowboys, the four band members had been overcome with a wave of people asking for pictures, autographs, or just for them to accept the compliment someone was paying. Y/N forgot just how famous her friends were sometimes, but it was overwhelming clarity, that night, that if her four dearest friends got pestered everywhere from the streets of LA to the honky tonks of Fort Worth, they’d be pestered anywhere.

“Now, for those visiting us tonight, I am your Master of Ceremonies for the evening, the name is Jacob Blythe.” As if on command, the crowd shouted back “Well, howdy Jacob!”, causing the man to chuckle heartily into the mic, the sound echoing around the hall over and over. “I introduce myself because a little birdie told me we have some friends from the Sunshine State with us tonight.” He added, and the crowd cheered. The team’s ‘incognito’ night out was truly public record now, but it was far too fun to really care. “So, our band tonight will be back after their break, we don’t wanna tire them out now. But that does mean we are in need of some musical talent!

“Now, I’m not pressuring none, but if any particular individuals wanna come up and give us a tune, I think we’d all be mighty grateful.” The MC stated, Y/N climbing off of Alex’s back as the four bandmates shared glances. “So, do we have any volunteers?”

Before anyone had a chance to stop him, Reggie suddenly disappeared from his spot amongst the group, appearing a moment on the stage behind the MC, who let out a rather high-pitched scream as Reggie sat his hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“What is he doing?” Y/N found herself asking, watching her friend picking up an acoustic guitar from its stand and fixing the strap around him before he clipped on a capo and stood himself in front of the mic.

“Good evening, Fort Worth. I’m Reggie.” He introduced himself to the cheers of the crowd, a spotlight focusing onto him as he spoke. He wasn’t quite sure why he was up on that stage, in fact every bone in his body seemed against it: but his hands settled into place over the strings and his fingers began to play a sweet arpeggio, getting used to the foreign guitar. He was lost to impulse, no doubt partially thanks to the liquor in his system, but he was confident enough to keep going, maybe too scared to stop.

“I think he’s gonna play.” Julie remarked, stating the obvious as she grabbed Luke’s hand and led him closer to the stage, Flynn doing the same to Y/N as Alex followed behind.

“I uh, I usually leave our band’s songwriting up to Luke, right there.” Reggie added as he continued to play, pointing a hand out towards Luke who waved to the surrounding crowd, another round of whoops sounding. “But I dabble, and since this is my home state… I have something new for you guys tonight.” He finally paused the arpeggio, taking one last sigh before using the same chords and beginning to play the mysterious song.

“Let’s fall in love for the night and forget in the mornin’.” He sang out, his voice so soft and sweet that Y/N found herself instantly fixed on the music. She was often this way with Reggie, whenever he sang she could swear that the rest of the world disappeared. “Play me a song that you like you can bet I'll know every line. 'Cause I'm the boy that your boy hoped that you would avoid, don't waste your eyes on jealous guys, stop that noise.” Reggie lifted his hand from the guitar, his eyes scanning the audience to send a wink towards his friends, two of whom recognised the lyrics of his chosen serenade. “I know better than to call you mine.”

“Wow…” Y/N whispered, impressed, lifting her elbow to nudge Alex, but meeting thin air instead.

“You need a pick-me-up?” Reggie sang, Alex appearing at the drumkit on stage behind the raven haired singer and joining in on a drum line, to the cheers of the crowd. “Well, I'll be there in 25. I like to push my luck, so take my hand, let's take a drive.” With a nod towards Julie and Luke, he coaxed the other bandmates onto the stage, leaving Flynn in charge of the entranced Y/N, pushing the girl alongside her towards the front of the crowd. “'Cause I've been livin' in the future hopin' I might see you sooner. I want you ridin' shotgun. I knew when I got one right.” He continued to sing, passing off the guitar to Luke as Julie took her place at the piano and played the chords with a smile Reggie’s way.

“Let's fall in love for the night and forget in the mornin'. Play me a song that you like you can bet I'll know every line.” Reggie sang out, this time accompanied by the harmony of Julie and the backing vocals of Alex and Luke, the four sharing smiles as they performed. “'Cause I'm the boy that your boy hoped that you would avoid, don't waste your eyes on jealous guys, stop all that noise. I know better than to call you mine.”

As Y/N watched on, nestled in the crowd, she couldn’t help but wonder when Reggie was struck with such romantic inspiration. She had spent almost every day for the last near month with him, and with his last big hit being ‘Home Is Where My Horse Is’, she allowed herself the curiosity, a beer in hand that she found herself sipping away at as she observed.

“Where’d you get that drink?” Flynn whispered into Y/N’s ear, who shrugged and took another sip.

“I love it when you talk that nerdy shit. We're in our twenties talkin' thirties shit. We're makin' money but we're savin' it, ‘cause talking shit is cheap and we talk a lot of it.” The song continued, the crowd cheering and dancing along to the music while Y/N found herself fixed to her spot, not even noticing as Flynn played safety guard and relieved her of the drink in her hands. “You won't stay with me, I know, but you can have your way with me 'til you go.” Julie and Reggie harmonised on the line, Luke and Alex suddenly disappearing from the stage, Julie taking her leave, quick to pull Flynn away with her and leave Y/N alone in front of the stage. “And if all your kisses turn into bruises, I'm a warnin’.”

And then, Y/N struggled to breathe, completely paralysed when Reggie’s eyes locked with her own.

“Let's fall in love for the night and forget in the mornin'.” Reggie lifted the microphone from its stand, walking round and jumping off the low stage onto the dancefloor as he sang. There was a confidence in the music he couldn’t dispel, emotions he might have never admitted otherwise coming into the open, at least that was what he hoped. His walk was in time to the best of the drums left to echo as he sang acapella, his feet only stopping once they were toe to toe with Y/N’s.

“Play me a song that you like you can bet I'll know every line.” They had been that close all night, dancing away to the sounds of the country band, or when Y/N had spent half the rodeo hiding in his arms fearful for the bull riders in the arena below them. But it felt different, intimate.

“'Cause I'm the boy that your boy hoped that you would avoid.” His free hand lifted hers from her side, taking her hand in his and lifting their arms above their heads to spin Y/N on the spot: that action too was slow, something that made the rest of the world outsiders looking into a rare moment. “Don't waste your eyes on jealous guys, fuck that noise.”

“I know better. I know better. I know better than to ever call you mine.” The look the pair shared, Reggie finding himself smirking as he let the mic fall, it was nothing either of them had experienced before, and Reggie vanished into thin air as the crowd erupted into cheers.

It was only once he had disappeared, only once the crowd broke into thunderous applause, that Y/N felt herself breathe again. She was overcome with a dizziness she would equate to the feeling after a rollercoaster ride, paired with the sound of her heart in her ears and near pounding out her chest, and that was before mentioning the flush that coloured her cheeks and nose red. A part of her might have called it fault of the alcohol, but Y/N had never felt more sober. His smirk was sketched into her memory, the feeling of his hand on hers burned in her skin, the smell of his cologne a scent she had never noticed was so very enticing before. It was like she had been transported to some kind of paradisal state of being, the way his eyes held her own like she might drown in the deep sea green irises…

There wasn’t much Y/N could make sense of in the few moments that ended the performance, but she knew, deep in her gut:

This wasn’t good.

Y/N’s Instagram Feed: Day 23/93

and the rumours begin...

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altagraye · 3 years

Text

Big Big Love pt 3

Quote:

"Cut myself on Angel hair and Baby's breath…Broken hymen of your Highness."

-'Heart-Shaped box',- Nirvana.

pt 3: Heart-Shaped Box

Dean:

Just like I'd been keeping track of her heat days, I was on alert for any signs of pregnancy. It's been about three and a half weeks, since our claiming. No more rut-crazed Alphas came around. Since that night. To be safe I marked the surrounding trees in the vicinity around Bobby's place. Better safe than sorry, because when I don't prepare, I usually get fucked in the end. I found a slightly dated 'Mega medical textbook among Bobby's extensive nerdy library. I was skimming through it now, with Maia fast asleep in my bed, one of my flannels draped across her. She stirred in her sleep a little but quickly returned to snoring just a bit. The TV was on for white noise, I flipped the page- reading the title at the top. Female Omega Pregnancy: First Trimester- Complications. Reading the title, made me frown. I didn't want to think about anything going wrong with her or my potential pup. I sighed but read on.

The first trimester can often times be the most risky for the mother and pup, especially if there is more than one Alpha present in the household. A newly pregnant Omega in a den with more than one Alpha runs the risk of having a miscarriage. Reasons are generally unknown however, it has been surmised that an unclaimed pregnant Omega loses the child because she has no official mate to protect her and the growing pup. This cruel act of nature works as a reset button, the body expels the child upon the multitude of Alphas confusing dominant scents. Just as in the similar scenario of an Alpha murdering an offspring that is not it's own, so the miscarriage ensues. Great. However, the risk of miscarriage goes down significantly if the mother is claimed. I closed my eyes, hopefully this would work. My eyelids were heavy so I decided to close the dusty dumb book and set it under the bed, underneath where I slept. She didn't need to see me reading it. I got up from bed and went down to the kitchen to fix some of her favorite breakfast food. Call me a servant or whatever, but I just had the strong urge to provide for her and no one else.

Bobby was already up, and running through his notes about Maia's dealer at his desk across from the kitchen, so far we were dead in the water. I wanted to find him and rip his throat out, slow though, make it hurt like he hurt my girl and all the other poor 'Megas who didn't make it. I got out two plates, one for me and for her, Bobby could make himself something. Bobby started to chuckle, he was watching me.

"She's got you wrapped 'round her finger, boy." he said taking off his hat and scratching his head underneath before returning his signature cap back to it's resting place. "I'm happy for you, kid." he concluded. "Thanks, Bobby, anything on Felix?" I asked, my mind still focused on Maia's dealer. She'd remembered his name, and that gave us a little better understanding of who he was on the streets. But it killed me being at this stand-still. If he wasn't dead, Maia wasn't safe. Leaving her alive in the Hole, meant she was a high price commodity. And if these pieces of shits are willing to pay so much money on her because the suppressants worked on her, then they'd want her back.

I'll be damned if I let that happen, I'd die before I let him lay a hand on her again. Bobby got up from his chair and cracked his back. "Yeah actually, there was a recent Mill found about an hour's drive from here, but I haven't heard back from my sources so I think he didn't make it." he said draggin' his feet into the kitchen and opening the fridge, foraging for grub. Judging by our circumstances, if she did end up pregnant, I knew she couldn't have any caffeine so I hid the coffee from her in the upper parts of the cupboard. I also stashed the foot-stool in an obscure part of Bobby's car-yard.

Maia is at least a whole foot shorter than me, another one of her cute features that I secretly loved. I kept thinking of the supplies we'd need for a Mill-raid, when I smelled her sweet essence in the kitchen, before the tiny scuffling of her bare feet. She'd rubbed her eyes and yawned loudly.

"Who made bacon?" she asked hovering over a counter and a plate full of the slices, staring at my cooking. Shamelessly she grabbed two slices of the delectable pork and bit into them, filling her face with bliss. "Mmmm I love bacon." I gave her a smile, tearing my eyes away from the frying pan, working on scrambling some eggs. My observational awareness was paying off, anything to make her happy. I kissed her bacon greased lips, which I enjoyed tasting, being eager to have a sloppy plate full of heaven myself.

Bobby interjected, "Gross, get a room, Lovebirds."

"You're just jealous Bobby. Don't rain on our parade." Maia said with her signature spunk, I'm really glad that she isn't some run-of-the-mill 'Mega. Somebody who nearly enjoyed being stepped on and treated like trash. Some of them were stupidly tragic domestic violence cases, Alpha abuses- apologizes, Omega forgives, submits, and is back in the vicious circle. Just then, the front door flung open, Sam and his gross morning-run sweat filled the room, combating the sizzled bacon smell. He reeked of soggy, rotten, pinewood.

"Dude, take shower." I scolded him wrinkling my nose. Sam looked taken-aback, plodding further into the room, opening the fridge and guzzling down a bottle of Gatorade. Sam gave me a look but brushed off my comment, taking a sniff of his pits. Shameless.

I served Maia and I our food, giving her more on her plate, and sat my plate down, watching her I pulled out her chair for her and pushed it in as she sat down- close to the table. Sam and Bobby stared at my actions. Sam chuckled finishing his drink and leaned over a chair at the table, "Wow. Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be chivalrous." I rolled my eyes at him shoveling a fork full of fluffy yellow eggs in my mouth. "C'mon, seriously, we have a Mill to chase."

"alright, try not to drool 'till I get back." Sam said waving a hand and walking in the direction of the shower. We finished our food and got dressed for the day in our room. I couldn't resist kissing her, fighting the urge to put her down on the bed and fulfil my urges. As she dressed herself I couldn't help but notice her scar on her belly again. Something was up about that, just what did Felix do to you Love? I didn't let her see me staring. I packed a bug-out bag and took them down to Baby's trunk. My attention was averted from packing the trunk and running through the weapons we needed. Strawberries. I turned on my booted heels.

"You're not going." I demanded cutting to the chase. Her head tilted, I had hit a nerve in those chocolatey headlights. Her arms were perched on her slightly boney hips. Here comes the raised voices and gnashing teeth.

"Yes I am. I may not be a hunter, but I'm not a weakling. I have claws. And I can take a hit or two." she said getting closer to me, resting her buns on Baby's bumper.

"Maia, if something happens to you, on my watch." I interjected chucking an ammo cartridge in Baby's trunk making a loud clatter.

"I'll be right next to you, the entire time. I'm a small target, they're harder to hit. And besides, like Brainiac said, no Hail Mary's." she got up and leaned into me, on her tippy-toes landing a firm kiss on my lips, her hand caressing my sandpapered cheek.

"I'm your inside man." she said her small palm gripping at my fingers. I closed my eyes and sighed. I really don't know what I'd do if you got hurt. No, I'd go feral. Out of my wits insane. Don't you see, that's how much I care about you? Fuckin' Kryptonite.

I pointed a finger at her, being dead serious. "Do not leave my side, when we're in there. No matter what." I gave her face a good long stare. "Do you know how to use one of these?" I asked her raising up a spare Glock from the trunk. She smirked at me, took it and demonstrated that she did know how to use one, quite well actually. Checking it for ammo, taking the safety on and off, unloading the magazine, and fiddling with the hammer. She never pointed it at me and said, "it should never be aimed unless you intend to fire."

She handed me the weapon back and I placed it down into the trunk again. I pulled her in for another kiss, worry still stinging the back of my mind but, trusting in my mate. I'd have to be on hyper alert to get this mission done the right way. I broke the kiss for a relieving gasp of oxygen. She smiled at me, sweet and innocent, charming even.

"I love you." she mentioned I touched her mark, now healed and scarred over. Other people might think of it as ugly, but it's more of a beauty mark, something physical to represent an intense ethereal feeling. I smiled at her, "I know." She shoved my arm playfully. My hand left her nape and I could have sworn I smelled something like thick golden honey, but the aroma left as quick as it had appeared.

"C'mon, Star Wars? How cheesy is that." she said with a smile in her voice. I chuckled, "Don't deny it, you love that stupid shit." I told her. We waited for Sam to come out, with Baby's windows rolled down feeling the summer breeze on the wind. As much as I wanted Maia to sit next to me, and steal Sam's spot, she insisted that would be very rude and took her spot in the back, sitting in the center of the mid-section. Sam finally rushed his mountain of a body out of Bobby's house, casting his duffel in the trunk with a thud and joining us in the passenger seat. It was good to have the rubber meet the road again. Is this gonna be the day we finally get this piece of shit?

Maia:

My stomach started to churn like nobody's business once we got up to the complex. I breathed, sucking in deep, resting my chin on the edge of the vinyl seat in front of me. My forehead made contact with the back of Dean's neck. I made sure to get a lungful of his Whiskey-coffee scent. It calmed me like a warm cup of hot cocoa on a snow-day. It didn't make my nervousness vanish but it prevented me from puking.

He turned his head in my direction, and I could feel Sam's gaze thick on my face.

"Ready, wonder woman?" Dean semi-joked, even though his eyes spoke a different story, detecting just how bad I was feeling. I gave the back of his clothed neck a peck before opening the heavy backdoor and heaving myself out of the car. It was the middle of the day in a relatively affluent neighborhood. Frankly it's an odd place for an apartment building, especially one with a name like Pleasant Palms. I spat at the sign in disgust and disdain. Fuck you, Felix. You made my life Hell and turns out I'm the lucky one. I know that Dean wants to take fate into his own claws but Felix, he's mine to slice up. There was a padlock chained to the front door and I had to reach out for dean's hand, interlacing our finger, this action made him look at me, checking to see if I was okay.

My heart was thumping against my chest, a tiny rabbit could have been inside my chest cavity and no one would know the difference. We entered the complex and nothing seemed out of place for now. Until we reached the inside perimeter. This Hole was very similar to my own, having an inner ring where the Omegas were kept. I was sure to follow Dean's earlier orders by staying right behind him, it was almost hard to keep up with his stride, our height differences being a present challenge in this situation. Sam held up the caboose, a simple yet effective protection strategy.

They had their guns drawn ready in case any Alphas popped out and decided to ambush. Once we got into the inner maze it was evident that there was no threat, leaving only a grim gorey scene in their wake. The stench of death reminded me of my own dark times. As we descended further, Sam and Dean put their weapons' inside their belts. Dean opened a random door where most of the stench was coming from. Immediately my eyes welled up and my stomach was doing Olympic quality backflips. There were three Omega's hung from the ceiling like I had been.

They were cut open from breast bone to pelvis; the ribs broken and splayed outward in a macabre display. On the walls behind them written in their own blood was a note meant specifically for me. Can't run forever, sold their products too, want to make me another specimen, M?

I knew exactly what the message meant. My mind was broken into a thousand tiny shards in that moment. I started to hyperventilate and sob at the same time. Is he here? Is he watching me? Sam was out of sight, checking the other rooms. Dean closed the door and embraced me, cradling my head close to his chest in an attempt to quell my episode. My hands were shaking uncontrollably with fear. I hadn't felt like this in a while, plunging me back into my own depths. I was free and now that freedom felt like a rug snapped from under me. I wept into his chest, sending us back into the door. My legs had no feeling to them, crashing to the floor, Dean cradling me in his arms, his chin resting on my head as I rode out my trauma. We were a pile of broken people, tangled in each other on the cold concrete.

"Shhhhh. Shh. I’ve got you. He can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him." Dean's low voice and stronger Whiskey scent, released at the expense of my sudden grief and crippling fear, was comforting. I tried hard to focus on only that, a headache jackhammering itself into my skull from how hard I was crying. The mutilated corpses of the women stuck in my mind and I had to rip myself from Dean's grip to find a corner of the dank room to upchuck. Dean was there, by my side, grabbing my hair away from the splash-zone and rubbing soothing circles on my back until the feeling passed. I wiped some excess bile from my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt.

"Um, guys. We have a problem." Sam said coming into view. He had something in his arms. A blue bundle draped across his arm. Sam got closer to us and I could clearly see that what he was holding was a baby, a pup. A note was safety pinned to the infants blanket that read: return address 78 willow street.

"What the hell?!" Dean burst out at the strange circumstances. Sam tried to shh his brother to no avail and shrilly the boy cried his little lungs out. Sam held him not knowing what to do, looking to his older brother for help.

"Don't look at me, I'll make it explode." Dean replied gesturing his hands up like he didn't want to touch him. Then as if they were thinking the same thought the brothers turned to me. Really? I don't know what to do either.

"What the hell am I? a pup whisperer?" I tried to hide my feelings with a joke. I was afraid. I can't hold it. I've never done it before. Immediately my mind went to my scar and the horrible memories that came with it. Sam went to me handing me the screaming bundle. Reflexively I held him and with no effort at all, the wailing stopped and turned into tiny cooing. The weight and warmth of the little life in my arms, it was too much for me to take knowing my past. I started to tremble. A tear dropped from my eyes soaking into the little boy's fleece blanket.

"Dean, I- I can't do this." what cruel irony this is. Dean came over to me and rubbed my shoulders, "you're doing it now. He likes you. You're beyond a natural." he told me trying to spark my self-esteem. Even though he was my mate, this anchor weighing over me, it was too much. Stifling back an ocean of tears, carefully with my other hand I adjusted his little beanie to fit tighter around his head. I was sure not to press hard, I knew that newborn melons were often times soft. He cooed and sucked at his tiny thumb. He rested his little cheek against my breast, just barely.

Holding this little life, was both a warming form of therapy and a stinging emotional unforgettable pain.

"Hey there, big guy. Where's your momma, at?" I asked him knowing he couldn't answer me but my instinct was to baby-talk him, maybe he'd be soothed further by my voice, even though he wasn't mine. Carefully dean removed the note from his blanket.

"Guess she's here?" he gave the address to Sam and we went down to the Impala. Dean opened up the door for me to scoot in. Sam searched the address on his laptop and found that it was a short 15 minute drive from here. During the drive I could feel Dean's gaze on me. He probably felt a sense of pride that I could do this impossible task, that neither of them could. But I only saw it as this little boy bringing me a kind of relief, one I didn't even know I needed. I patted his back in a steady soft rhythm. Somehow I just knew to do it. Maybe I really was cut out to be an Omega?

Something in me didn't want to let him go, like I needed him. We got to the address and it was a small house with a truck in parked carport. At least it was a baby-safe car. Sam knocked on the front door with his monstrous hands, making a loud sound. The little boy stirred in my arms at the sound so I just swayed him back to bliss. The door opened with a loud creak. A woman stuck her head out she had a bright yellow tank top on one of the spaghetti straps hanging off her shoulder, and short ripped jean shorts that rode up a little to high on her body. In other words, her vagina was eating the fabric for lunch. I immediately had a feeling that something was off about her. She acted visibly funny, like there was an itch on her body that she couldn't scratch away.

"what the hell do you want?" she asked rudely. Dean raised an eyebrow at her demeaner before he answered her question.

"Well, looks like you forgot something up at Pleasant Palms." he told her moving out of the way to reveal her son in fast asleep again in my arms. She gasped and lunged for her bundle.

"Harley! Hi pumpkin. Oh I'm so glad to see you. Thank you guys." we followed her inside her house. It was very messy inside. I followed the woman down the hallway watching her intently. I have a bad feeling about her. Harley started to cry again. And she didn't really pay attention.

"Oh. You. Hush that fussin' you're giving me a headache." What do you expect him to do, Bitch? She put him on her bed, almost on the edge, still crying loudly, his tiny face getting red.

"woah! What the fuck is wrong with you?" I saw his crib in the corner of my eye and picked him up, rocked him as I strolled to his crib and put him in it. She'd slumped down on the bed like she was dizzy. She laughed groggily,

"oh, sorry. Hey you're really good at that. The name's Astrid, nice to meet ya. I could pay you good money if you sit for me, how does that sound?" I gave her a look like I wanted to kill her, my jaw tense.

Harley stopped his crying and I lay him down gently, I found some bath towels and rolled them up, being sure to tuck them between the rails of the crib and Harley's little body, one for each side. His tiny fingers latched on to my pinky. His grip was strong. I didn't want him to let go. I'd read a news article a long time ago, about a local family that lost their baby from it turning in her sleep, causing her to suffocate. I rubbed my thumb on his little fingers, I'm sorry. I turned to exit the bedroom when a bottle of pills caught my eye on her bedside table. My whole body was burning with fury.

Astrid had exited the room, quickly losing interest in her child. I heard commotion from the front room, down the hallway, my feet were steady against the tile floor. Astrid had been bumping up against Sam like he was a human sized lollipop. Dean just stood in awe at what was happening, not touching the predicament with a ten foot pole.

"Oh you smell so good, big boy. I have needs, you want to give me hand?" she mewled loudly pressing against his chest and gripping his firm glutes. I reached her and wrapped my fingers in her hair, mercilessly I yanked her head back and threw her to the ground.

"You want these, huh? How many did you take today? Answer me!" I threw the bottle of Heat inducers as hard as I could, the bottle landing with the screen of her TV. She writhed, her forehead was beaded with sweat. Just looking at her made me sick. I mounted her and took her tank top up to my face.

"You left your son in a Millhouse to die! While you're tweaking on Heat uppers, begging for somebody to fuck you." she didn't respond, her eyes still hazed over deep in the throes of Heat.

"Please, the dealer killed my Alpha. I need another one to protect us. And I need to feel a heat again. I've been dying with out it. You're claimed, how would you feel if Whiskey-man was taken from you?" She picked up quick on my and Dean's relationship.

My face scrunched up with anger. I released her clothes, making her fall to the floor. I punched her face, sending her head to the left.

"I wouldn't be chasing a Heat high. I would put every ounce I had into that pup. I would give a shit! You won't ever get a second chance! 'Megas never do! I would die! I would kill! I would go feral! I got fucking beat for my kid!!" with each sentence I gave her a knuckle sandwich. I was trembling, the cat's out of the bag, the ship has left the harbor. After my last sentence, I heard an audible breath from both Sam and Dean. Being satisfied with my work, her face now a bloodied mangled mess, I got up from her disgusting drugged out frame. My knuckles were scuffed, not realizing it until now I gave them a glance instead of looking my pack-mates in the face.

"Clean up you're God-damned act. You're a mother now. Everything else comes second." I turned on my heel, and put feet to floor. I grabbed Dean's jacket sleeve.

"I'm done here." I let go so that my feet could carry me to the Impala. Dean followed silent, and tossed Sam the keys. My body wouldn't stop trembling. I let my body thud against the back seat. I was so overwhelmed I couldn't even cry anymore. I just stared into the nothingness, numb. Dean hopped in the back seat with me and guided my head down to rest in his lap. He didn't say a word, neither of them did.

We got back to Bobby's by sundown. By the time my shoes hit the gravel I could feel a wave of emotion start to hit me again. I kept thinking of Harley and how he felt in my embrace. I needed the emotion to be gone. Wouldn't this all be better if I didn't feel a damned thing? My first thought was to climb in our bed and throw the covers over me. I ran into the house, ignoring Dean's calls for me. I knew I had to tell them my story. And that terrified me. I sure as Hell didn't want to tell it multiple times. I fumbled with the keys, my body still shaking, I finally got the front door open and flung it, I ran up the stairs. Bobby and another man in a long beige trench-coat were sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hey? Having marital problems already, Princess?" I couldn't answer him. By the time I got to the top of the stairs Dean and Sam were inside. Sam spoke to my surprise, hearing the comment he'd made.

"Drop the sarcasm, Bobby, we all need to talk and listen." I flung my shoes off in a saddened rage, not caring where the landed. Dean took his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders knowing I'd need it now more than ever. I planted myself in the middle of his bed, still shaking like a leaf. Dean didn't touch me but he stayed close, sitting next to me on our bed, ears peeled. Sam, bobby and Castiel stood piled up near the door, silently waiting for permission to enter. Otherwise it'd be rude and would warrant a possessive growl from Dean. I raked my fingers through my hair tears starting to fall again. I absolutely hated that, I felt too vulnerable when I cried. I reached back behind me to grab Dean's pillow desperate for his Whiskey to soothe my nerves. Dean motioned for the three Alphas to come in. they did so, each grabbing a seat or leaning on the dresser, waiting for me to spill the beans.

Dean held my quivering hand, "When you're ready." I sat there for a minute or two, crying more. It's gonna hurt just talking about it, but I know I need to tell them. My grip tightened on Dean's and I let out a breath, my shaking eased. I gulped down some saliva.

"My parents were low on money, so they sold me to Felix. I was a pretty face, unclaimed and untainted. He locked me up in my cell like all the other Omegas he treated. Not long after getting in the Mill, my heat hit. A guard came into my room in the middle of the night and…. He t-took me. Felix watched, that's what he liked. Before the guard could claim me, Felix shot him." more tears fell and I shook them off. Dean hung his head not saying a word. Bobby shifted his hat. Castiel stared at me with very sad blue eyes. Sam turned away, trying to hide his anger.

"The altercation left me pregnant. It was the only little light at the end of my tunnel. Felix waited. He waited until I could feel it writhe inside me. He drugged my food with sedatives, and he'd c-c-cut it from my body." I whimpered saying it and covered my mouth with a shaking hand almost about to break again, before breathing in deep and continuing,

"I went feral after realizing what happened. Felix experimented on me with the Heat suppressants and beat me once a week to keep me tame. I guess he didn't kill me because he just wants to see me suffer. I'm his favorite plaything." there was a long moment of silence before anyone spoke. Dean asked a question interlacing our fingers gently,

"What do the plaques mean? Yours said M-0." my eyes flitted to his.

"Production value. More pups, higher number. I've tried to deny it but my guess is that he killed my baby." I could feel a nausea settle in the pit of my stomach, making me grimace. "Somebody smells like straight shit. Who the hell doesn't know how to take a shower?" I interjected not being able to take my culmination of feelings. Castiel furrowed a brow and lightly sniffed the air, " I think my aroma is adequate."

Dean came to an epiphany and raked a hand across his face, "Holy shit."

"What?" Sam pondered seeing his brothers expression. Dean's eyes pierced into mine.

"Maia, when you were pregnant, did you have any other uh, smells about you?" his grip tightened on my hand awaiting my response.

"Felix always complained about honey, after they ripped it from me, nothing else came up. Why do you ask?" I was confused by his question. My answer took his breath away.

" All day. Today, you've smelled like you've been swimming in a pool of the sweetest honey I've ever gotten a whiff of." My jaw unhinged and drooped. No. I ripped my hand from his and cast his pillow to the floor, jumping off the bed and dashing for the bathroom.

"Maia!" Dean called out following close behind me. I nearly slammed the bathroom door on his nose. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet frantically finding a box of special Omega pregnancy tests. Dean thudded his head against the door. I flipped open the lid of the toilet pulled my pants down and took one test. When that one was done I took the other one. After four minutes passed. My hands had gone back to shaking. Not like this. I'm not ready. Everything was dead silent on the other side of the door. They waited for the outcome. I washed my hands and held my face feeling like I was going to break again.

I capped the tests and held them in my hand. Both of them had two pink lines across them. I opened the door slowly tears welling up in my eyes, not wanting to see Dean's face. His eyes searched my face, his jaden-orbs glossy with emotion. The anticipation was probably killing him. No one spoke.

I handed him the two tests, my lips quivering. "They have to be wrong. I can't be.." my words trailed off. He examined them closely. And dropped them to the floor, kissing my claim-mark before dropping to knees and landing a tender kiss on my belly. I buried my head in my hands and wept. Standing to his feet again he embraced me, resting his chin on my head, landing kisses in my hair and swaying my body for a few minutes until I stopped crying. He picked me up and gently sat me down on our bed.

"What the hell are y'all still in here for? Get out." he commanded. Castiel left first, followed by Bobby and Sam's burley frame resisting Dean who'd resorted to pressing on his younger brothers back, shoving him out of our room.

"Congrats, Sam and Cas you're uncles. And Bobby, you're finally a grandpa." he said elated and closed the door. Sam yelled out for Dean not accepting his reaction, his mind still focused on my mattress confessional.

"Tomorrow, Sammy!" Dean growled joining me in bed. A tear fell and soaked into the pillow below my head. My hand resting over my scar and my miniscule pup. I stared at the ceiling, finding shapes in the nebulous pattern. Dean pressed his body against mine his strong and calloused fingers gingerly interlacing over top of my stomach. He kissed my shoulder, noticing my abnormal upset behavior.

"I'm not gonna let this Felix dick-bag hurt you. I mean it. I'm gonna find him and slaughter him, for you and both our pups. By the way, when you totally decked the shit out of that woman and gave her a piece of your mind,- all manners of hot." his words were sweet but didn't make the overarching ache in my heart lessen. He rested his chin on my boney shoulder gawking at my face.

"I love you." he said bringing back the molasses I heard in his voice. I chuckled and smiled, looking down at his green eyes. "I know."

End chapter 3.

#alpha!dean #alpha!sam winchester #alpha!dean winchester #pups #pregnancy #omegaverse

27 notes · View notes

hournites · 3 years

Text

A lot of ways to love you (teach me through your eyes)

Hournite Week Day 7: Love Languages

Summary: Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Gifts, Quality Time, Touch. Or, Rick, Beth, and their many languages of love.

Thank you for coming along on this first HN week journey with me! ❤️

~.~

Words of Affirmation

Beth found Rick by himself at the corner of their shared history class, carving his initials into the desk. She didn’t understand why he’d put himself there. It was like a brooding corner to be miserable.

“Hey,” she said, taking the seat in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?”

Rick dug deeper to splinter the wood. “They think I cheated on my chem test.”

Without asking, Beth unzipped Rick’s bag to pull out the test. Rick let her.

She gaped at him as she scanned over the F and comments from the teacher. He always treated Beth kindly when they passed in the halls, but she never actually had Mr. Geralds. Chemistry wasn’t her strong suit like Rick, but there wasn’t a doubt that she’d given some of the same answers with a great grade from the other science teacher. “Are you serious? That’s crazy. You’re going to contest that, right?”

“You’re not going to even ask if I did?”

“I know you didn’t, you’re too smart.”

“I used to steal shit,” he muttered under his breath and dropped his pencil. “Haven’t heard you say I’m too smart for that.”

Beth slipped his test into her folder to return to at a later time, right now focusing on Rick.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” When Rick wouldn’t meet her eyes, she leaned in closer. “Look at me.”

Rick did.

“You know you deserved a good grade. And you’ve done what you did to get by.” She glanced at the vandalism briefly. “There are people here who know you’re better than what the majority of the town thinks.” She lowered her voice to keep her next words between them. “You’re a hero. You’ve helped save everyone in this town. So show them who you really are.”

She smiled when he let out a small huff, she knew he was listening. “I’ll go to the principal’s office with you, and we can get Pat to vouch for us. We both know that for Chem you should be in AP.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” he lied, shifting uncomfortably from all her nice words.

“If it weren’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have done that.” She pointed at the roughened mess he’d made of the school desk. “I know you better than you think.”

Act of Service

“Has anyone seen Beth?”

Rick walked around the main area of Pat’s cabin. It was after 2 AM. Barbara and Jennie were making late-night comfort food in the kitchen. Pat was manning the first aid station, tending to Mike, Jakeem and Yolanda’s injuries from Sportsmaster. Courtney was bonding or something with the staff in some strange ritual she had after a life-threatening mission. Rick just stepped out of the shower, washing the grime from his arms and face.

“She’s upstairs, I think!” Yolanda called, holding her ribs from her seat on top of the table. Rick shook his head when Pat admonished her not to yell. Rick made it up the stairs two at a time, stopping when he found Beth with her packed school bag on the floor in front of the couch. She was searching through papers, openly crying. She hadn’t even taken her cape off yet.

Rick crouched down beside her. “Hey,” he said softly. She looked utterly exhausted. “Are you okay? You said you didn’t get hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.” She hiccuped, flipping through more papers, a little hysterical. It looked like it was for school. “I can’t find my math assignment. It’s due tomorrow morning.”

“Did you finish it?” he asked.

“I don’t remember.” She wiped at her tears as she cried harder. “I might’ve left it at home, I can’t find it. I’m too tired, I can’t think.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed. His bones were weary but he had always felt the least affected after battling it out with the ISA. He suffered plenty of superficial cuts and bruises, but he hardly felt them because his hourglass really protected him. He couldn’t imagine the hit the night must’ve taken on Beth’s body. Pat was going to be driving them back to main Blue Valley at 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning to get them back to school. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a random Wednesday. It’s not like they had a choice.

“Did you ask Chuck?”

“No.” Her lip wobbled, face contorting into another sob. Rick regretted asking. It was clear she was far too drained. It would’ve been simple to have asked Chuck to scan her bag to find out, but she hadn’t thought of it.

“Okay, okay,” Rick said. “Go to bed. You’re not going to be able to do the homework now even if you found it.” Rick got up to get to the top of the stairs, calling down for Barbara.

When he returned, he helped her up and managed to get her to let go of her school bag. “We’ll look for it before we leave, okay?” Rick ran a hand through his damp hair, his own eyelids started to droop. “I promise you’ll get it done before school.”

Barb joined them upstairs and coaxed Beth to change out of her suit, leading her downstairs with her regular clothes and a promise of a warm bed and tea.

Rick followed to grab Chuck when Beth wasn’t looking, turning him on once alone to help identify if this alleged math homework was even in her bag. Together they found what she was talking about. Ten problems of pre-calc. She was right. It was rushed and not done.

Rick sighed, tucking it under his arm. He said goodnight to the rest and retired to his assigned room. He turned on the lamp on the desk where he first solved the code of his father’s journal, spreading out the assignment and using Chuck as a calculator. It dawned on him an hour later as he rubbed at his tired eyes how he would be staying up all night to finish homework that wasn’t even his.

Gifts

Beth was immersed in her book when two hands landed on her collarbone. She looked down, touching the skin at the opening of her shirt when she felt the weight of something new at the base of her throat.

“What’s this?”

Rick murmured in her ear from behind. “An early birthday present.”

She let out a soft gasp when he finished with the clasp. A tiny brass hourglass pendant with sand just like Hourman’s trickled steadily beside her rainbow pendant.

“Woah.” She glanced up at him. “You got me an hourglass?” She bit down on her lip, dread creeping into her mind when she realized this had to be expensive. She struggled to voice what she was feeling out loud, but Rick must’ve caught the complicated expression on her face. He smoothed his hand along the sleeve of her cardigan and reassured her the cost didn’t push him into any kind of financial ruin.

“Did you not realize I’ve been working for Pat before school? I had some spare cash. Trust me, there’s nothing better I’d spend my money on.”

The puzzle clicked into place. Beth had been meeting Rick at the Pit Stop every morning before school for what felt like months now. It made sense he was there to work on the cars. Beth felt her face heat up at his implicit soft-spoken confession. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper, still in awe. The necklace was beautiful and she felt fuzzy ever since his hands were on her neck. “I love it.”

His eyes, usually hardened and defensive, skilled at warding off unwanted attention, now creased at the corners. Gentle, quiet, yearning, he watched her accept his gift. “I’m glad.”

Impulsively she asked, “Could you unclasp the rainbow one?”

Rick did. The chain pooled in her palm. She shook her head, pushing it to his chest. “You should have it.”

His brows furrowed in response. “You want to give me your... rainbow necklace?”

She flushed when he said it like that. She toyed with her new one, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “Well…” she said. “I have something of you, now you can have a symbol of me.”

Rick let out a small laugh. Beth was pretty sure if this were anyone else he’d say it was stupid, so she couldn’t help the surge of pride when he nestled her necklace around his own neck.

“How does it look?”

It was actually twisted. She flattened it so it would look the way it was supposed to over the collar of his shirt. Rick didn’t complain, but it was bright and cheery and clashed with his entire self. Beth bit her lip, withholding another laugh, and took pity on him, changing her mind to tuck the necklace underneath. “Perfect now.”

“Beth, I hate to interrupt this moment but you will be late for school if you don’t leave the Pit Stop in the next five minutes.”

Chuck broke them out of their weird double transfixion. They both found themselves smiling shyly at each other, neither truly wanting to move.

“Come on,” he said after another few moments of them smiling at each other without moving. “Put your bike in my trunk. I’ll drive you.”

Quality Time

When Rick stopped by at Beth’s locker, she was talking to Charity, a new close friend she made over the summer volunteering at the Blue Valley Community Centre.

“Hey,” Rick greeted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Beth to visit.

“Hey,” Charity said back. She swept her blonde bangs out of her face to continue their conversation.

“Charity had a great idea that we should enter for the sustainability case competition,” Beth filled in.

“We’re going to need at least a month to prepare. I was thinking we could meet Tuesdays and Thursdays after school?”

Rick stuck a hand in his pocket, sullen. Thursdays were their days, unofficially. Not that they’ve ever said so out loud, but with JSA training afternoons the rest of the week, Beth working on a case competition their days off basically meant not getting to see her. Which was fine. It happened. Rick just wishes it didn’t have to.

“I can’t on Thursdays,” Beth told her. She glanced up at Rick to give him a smile. He straightened up, meeting her gaze with obvious surprise. “Those are our nights.”

Charity paused, watching the two with curious eyes.

“We can cancel,” Rick found himself saying and actually meaning it. “You don’t have to stay on my account.”

Beth’s nose scrunched up as she shook her head, mind already made. “Nah. Sorry Charity, Thursday doesn’t work for me. Take out your schedule, maybe we have a shared free period somewhere.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! Okay!”

Rick ducked his head to hide his smile as Charity fished through her bag for her agenda.

Touch

When Beth stumbled out of the cell she’d been bound in, she hadn’t realized just how long she’d been gone. She was hungry and exhausted and felt horrifically dirty in her soiled Dr. Mid-Nite suit, but then she got a glimpse of Hourman nearly pushing the others in his rush to get to her all she could feel was relief.

Rick cupped her face, eyes squeezed shut as he held her close, his thumbs brushed along her cheeks, under her dry eyes. She felt the buzz of adrenaline rushing through him just by being so near, but the way he touched her was gentle, so gentle.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispered, a startling unfamiliar word to fall in succession like that, coming from Rick. His hands flew to the crown of her cowl, tugging it down to kiss her forehead again and again. “Thank you.”

I’m okay now, she tried to comfort him, though her words were choked, smothered out by the crushing weight of it all. He was crying as his lips brushed over her face. It wasn’t his stamina. The buzz, she felt. Rick was shaking. It hit her then, that maybe he wasn’t sure Beth was ever going to come back. Beth had scared him. He was scared.

Beth vaulted with her tired, numb legs, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. Her mind went calm for the first time since before they left home, muscles relaxing as she let Rick scoop her up.

She was safe. She was home.

Beth was loved.

#hournite week #hournite #hournite week 21 #hournites fic #love languages #fluff #hurt/comfort #i'm proud of this one

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Text

Through the Looking Glass Chapter 12: The Caged Bird

AN: ....I feel like this went by really fast, but CLEARLY it did not, considering this is almost 13000 words and I STILL ended up splitting it into two parts...but I still feel like it happened SO FAST!!! And that worries me...for reasons that will become obvious, cause you all know I want to try and handle sensitive topics properly, and I don’t like the thought I might have rushed through this....

Characters: Levi, Reader, Roy (Original Character), Furlan, Reader’s Father, Various BG Characters

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, Injuries, Blood, Threats of Death, Peril, (SPOILER) Abusive Relationships, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Past Violence, Mentions of Past Abuse, Allusions to Abuse. NOTE (Also a spoiler): If you’re worried that the actual trauma/effects of abuse wasn’t properly handled, most of that is coming in the next part. This part is dealing with the ESCAPE of abuse, dealing with the event/aftermath itself is the next part.

Word Count: 12558

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

(Gif found HERE)

(Four Years Later)

*Levi’s POV*

“Levi--I found something you might appreciate. It was tucked away at the bottom of this crate--I think someone was trying to hide it.”

Levi came over to where Furlan was going through one of the three crates they’d managed to snag in a riskier heist earlier today, taking the tin Furlan was offering him and checking the label. Tea. High end stuff, too. Normally he’d celebrate by instantly taking it for himself, but considering where it was hidden and the size of the payload, he was a little worried. What the hell was it doing tucked into the bottom of one of these crates?

“You don’t think these crates--or at least this one--were going to any of the big shots down here, do you?” Furlan asked, a serious look in his eyes.

Levi set the tin aside for the time being, resolving to take it for himself if they decided it was safe to keep the crates. “Keep looking. If there’s nothing particularly dangerous or valuable in here, we might be able to avoid trouble so long as we sell the goods fast,” Levi rationalized.

“And if there is?”

“Ditch the crates with the high risk stuff and let it be someone else’s problem,” Levi said flatly, crouching back down in front of the crate he’d been looking for, seeing if there was anything else they should keep for themselves.

Finding a friend down here had certainly been...unexpected, and at first Furlan had followed him around like an overly eager puppy, wanting to follow after Levi when Levi turned down following him. They’d been working together for almost two years now, and Levi was finally comfortable being around the other young man, the two of them working well together on the heists they pulled to pool their money together--both to survive, and to save up enough money to buy citizenship on the surface and at least a starting place to live, even if it was just one room. The main goal was getting topside, where they started out living didn’t matter much--improvements could be made after they were up under open sky instead of underground.

Open sky…Crystal blue or dark as ink with thousands of stars burning above, or a cloudy grey with swirls of snow falling to coat the world below. It had been four years, but he still remembered every detail, from the freezing air against his cheeks or droplets of rain sliding down his upturned face, the sound of snow crunching beneath his feet or a roll of thunder in the distance, a warm hand in his or a flash of a brilliant smile framed by soaked hair.

His fingertips patted out the piano keys to a song, the light tapping audible, but no musical sound to accompany it except his memory of the times he’d practiced it with her.

“You’re timing something in your head before you try it?” Furlan abruptly guessed. Levi stopped his tapping, but otherwise didn’t react, shifting through a bolt of fabric in the crate to see if anything was concealed in it.

“No,” he answered bluntly, and Furlan sighed before going back to what he was doing.

He’d been trying to guess what that tick of Levi’s was since he first saw Levi do it, and he so far hadn’t guessed. He probably wouldn’t, either, but it was amusing to watch him try sometimes.

Even if he guessed right by some miracle, Levi wouldn’t tell him. That time...that time was a memory for him. Those little pieces of music some of the only things he could take with him to remember her by, besides the memories themselves. It was why he still practiced in the dirt and open air, or against his leg or whatever he happened to be holding at the time, why he still tried to remember the sound and the pattern after all this time.

Sometimes, if he let his focus drift away from the present, he could almost feel her hands against his.

Levi let the old ache persist for a few more moments, holding the memories at the front of his mind before he reminded himself it did him no good to dwell on what was unreachable to him now. At least when he was supposed to be focused on something else. The dwelling was meant for the quiet moments he was left to himself, or while he stayed up with nothing but his insomnia and the memories to keep him company.

After the first two, three years of not going back, he’d resigned himself to the reality that his worst fear regarding his visits to her world had finally happened. One day the visits had simply stopped, and he had to find a way to move on from the brief glimpses into a better world he’d been given, the door appearing to be fully shut and sealed to him now, with Y/N on the other side.

He hoped she was all right, wherever she was now. He hoped she got into that college she’d wanted to go to despite everyone telling her she couldn’t make it. He hoped she got far away from that town, but she was still in close contact with her family. He hoped she found more friends, that she was able to build up a comfy lifestyle by now. Or at the very least, was well on the way there by now.

He knew how hard that could be, but at least she’d started well above where he was at now. He had longer and farther to climb.

He just wished it could have been to where she lived.

“All right, I don’t see anything with too much heat on it in here. What about you?” Furlan asked.

Levi sighed, eyes roaming over the contents he’d been shuffling through while he spaced out with a much sharper eye, looking for anything he might consider a red flag item.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was usually so focused, he was almost embarrassed how much his memories were sweeping him away and bringing his mind elsewhere right now.

Opening his eyes, Levi was determined to focus and make sure him and Furlan didn’t accidentally bring home anything that was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

The crate was gone. And his hand was hovering just above a dull beige carpet, the light much brighter than it had been a few moments ago, and artificial instead of the usual firelight he was used to.

Levi’s breath had caught, and he held very still, as if afraid the slightest movement might shatter the reality around him. A slight stretch forward, and he could feel the sponginess of the carpet in front of him, which confirmed that what he was seeing was real.

Heart pounding, Levi turned his head to look around him, taking in the sight of a small house, fairly sparse, lots of flat and dull colors, a few cracks in the walls, and he was pretty sure there was a picture strategically placed on the wall to hide a hole. He was standing in a hallway with an open archway behind him and what looked like a back door at the end of the hall, stairs just off to the side in the same direction leading to a second story. He turned enough to see a small dining room behind him with a simple table and two chairs, and just around the corner must have been the kitchen. And from there, he could hear movement.

Y/N...?

Levi got to his feet slowly, his steps careful and quiet just in case he was wrong. He crept towards the kitchen, heartbeat rapid in his ears as he peeked around the corner, hand pressed lightly against the wall.

There she was, standing at a stove in this tiny little kitchen, bent over two pots as she cooked something to eat, a recipe book open just off to her left to give instructions on how to make whatever it was she was focused on.

She hadn't noticed him yet, and he had to swallow a sudden wave of complicated emotions at seeing her again, the most predominant of which was joy and longing. It had been four long years. He was only praying the universe wouldn't be cruel again and separate them before he had time to say something to her.

Well then, he shouldn't be standing here gawking like an idiot if he didn't want that to happen. He needed to say something--anything.

"Y/N?" He managed to get himself to say, tone making it sound like a question, the word feeling strange but reverent falling from his lips after so long not uttering them.

She jumped at the sudden voice, turning with wide eyes to see who had spoken, then freezing like a deer who'd just made eye contact with a predator. Her shock lasted a few moments, neither one of them daring to move and break the illusion before she spoke, the wooden spoon falling from her hands with a clunk into the water and against the metal rim of the pot.

"Levi?" She asked, voice breathless and small as she stared at him, eyes drinking him in as she took two hesitant steps forwards before she suddenly barreled towards him, hands clutching the front of his shirt as she buried her head in his chest.

There was a sharp intake of breath from both of them at the contact. Levi because he'd expected excitement, but not her throwing herself into his arms and...his shirt was damp, was she crying? Not to mention it had been years since someone touched him like this--he'd started to forget how he was supposed to react, how he wanted to react.

As for Y/N, the contact was when she breathed in and held it, the confirmation that he was real. She might have been trying to stem the flow of tears as well.

"Oh my God, you're real. It's been so long since…" she swallowed, a shaken laugh leaving her as she pulled back, looking up at his startled features. “I didn’t think you were ever going to come back! Where have you been? How have you been? How are you here now?”

Those tears were still in her eyes, and she was throwing herself at him with unrestrained...ambition? Passion? He was rusty reading her moods, so he couldn’t quite pinpoint what she was feeling, especially while she was still teary and still recovering from the shock of seeing him again.

She pulled away completely, seeming to realize how emotional she was getting right now as she wiped her eyes with her wrists, trying to regain her composure. “I’m sorry, I-I’m overwhelming you, aren’t I? Sorry, one question at a time…” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Are you all right?” Levi asked in mild concern. There had been far more waterworks than he’d expected in that reunion, and it made him worry.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I just...I really didn’t think I was going to see you again,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Neither did I,” Levi admitted. Now that he was here, and the awkwardness was settling over them…

The last time they’d seen each other, he’d kissed her. And now it had been four years. Was it even relevant even more? Was it even something he should bring up? Probably not right away, maybe save it until a little further into the day.

Levi looked around at the dull-looking house around him, the slightest pull of a frown starting to appear on his features. Now that he was looking...there was no piano. No splashes of color or personal touches, no scattered magazines or little projects she was working on. He’d always felt the places she lived were warm and personal, cozy, comfortable. This place was...indifferent and impersonal. Worn down, even. The cracks along the walls, the low-end furnishings...it reminded him of the Underground, and that didn’t sit well with him.

“You moved again,” he commented, eyes still moving around the surroundings.

“Yeah. I moved out for college, so no living with my parents anymore. They’re both...in different states now. Mom’s still in the same state as before with my stepdad and little sibling, and my dad’s a little closer, but still quite a ways away, and in another state as well...It’s a new area, though. Northwest--very northwest. It’s…” She seemed to struggle not to say dreary, settling instead on simply saying, “it rains a lot.”

Levi’s frown only grew. “I thought you said that school you were trying so hard to get into was out on the east coast?” Levi asked observantly, studying her closely. She turned away, but not before Levi caught a flash of pain in her eyes as she tried to feign that she was reminded of the food on the stove and was trying to focus on it.

“Yeah...but, ah...plans changed,” she said quietly.

Levi’s eyes narrowed at something in her tone he couldn’t pinpoint, but he certainly didn’t like it. “Plans change? Did you not get accepted?”

“I did.”

“Then it was too expensive.”

“No, I had a full ride, it was all completely paid for, nothing out of pocket.”

“Was it not what you expected?”

“It just didn’t work out,” she said much sharper than Levi had been anticipating, agitated by Levi poking at the subject trying to figure out what exactly had changed. “I don’t want to talk about it, Levi,” she said softly, body language stiff and closed off.

What happened in the four years he was gone? What had he missed? And why was she so...different? She didn’t feel like the same girl who’d pulled him into a rainstorm and drove him out to a hayfield simply to look at the stars, who’d marveled at snow and ice right with him and pulled him into so many different situations without hesitation, no reservations, just pure energy and happiness.

Now that he stepped back and looked at her, really took a moment to feel the energy in the room and take the time to get a proper read on her once the excitement of being back started to fade...she wasn’t bright, she was dulled. She was withdrawn and reserved, hesitant and quiet, a slight hunch to her shoulders, hiding her face.

What the hell happened? And why had he missed it?

She sighed over where she was bent over her food, and Levi felt himself rapidly withdrawing inside himself, kicking himself for thinking this was going to be even a modicum of what it used to be. His gaze was turned away, expression going from the worried frown and maybe a spark of hurt in his eyes that she cut him off so sharply to his usual indifferent expression in the silence that hung in the room. He suddenly became painfully aware of a distance that seemed to be yawning between them, four years of distance, so much apparently happening and he had no idea what besides college “didn’t work out” for reasons unknown.

And the last he’d seen, she’d been desperate to crawl out of the place she was living and get to the east coast. Instead she ended up in this dump on the complete other side?

“What about you? Are you still underground?” she asked, her tone suddenly normal and casual, though something about it felt insincere, like it was a front. Maybe not the question itself, it sounded like she genuinely wanted to know what had happened with him the past four years, but the casualness, the appearance that everything was fine--that was what felt false.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, watching as she moved away from the food to reach for the glasses in one of the cabinet and fill them with tap water, offering one to Levi, who left it sitting on the table beside him as he chose instead to watch her closely, his steely blue gaze following her every move and expression.

“Okay...I know you didn’t really talk much about what your life is like, but...is there anything you can tell me about it? How you’ve been, how you’re doing?”

“Only if you tell me how you’ve been in return,” Levi countered quickly. She looked away uncomfortably, going to open the fridge and fish around for the milk. As the door drifted further open, Levi’s gaze zoned in on the collection of brown bottles that clinked as she moved them aside to get to a small container of milk in the back. Whether it was his world or another, beer seemed universally recognizable. And there was a lot stocked in that fridge.

“I didn’t know you drank,” Levi said, his expression and tone as unreadable as he could manage, gaze fixated on her. She quickly shut the door, milk in hand as she headed over to the pots again to add a little milk to one of them.

“I don’t--those aren’t mine,” she said briefly.

“Whose are they, then?” Levi asked before she could try to direct the conversation back towards him. He didn’t want to talk about all his thievery and fights in the Underground, anyway. He wanted to know what had changed...everything, so drastically.

And if those weren’t her beer bottles, what were they doing in her fridge, and whose were they?

She was ignoring him, it seemed, choosing not to answer, her back to him so he couldn’t see her face once more.

“Y/N…” Levi started to say, the worry seeping into his tone this time as a rumble outside grew louder, and for a second, Levi thought that it was raining outside and he just hadn’t bothered to look out a window. Y/N, however, stiffened, then swore, abandoning what she was to suddenly start pushing him down the hall.

“Quick, out the back,” she said frantically.

“What? Why?” Levi asked, thrown off as the rumble got loud enough to be coming from just outside before abruptly ending.

“Because it looks really, really bad that I’m home alone right now with another guy--just, just--down the street to the intersection, take a left, then a right, another left, wait for me by the store that says Wal-Mart on Kensington Avenue, I’ll come as soon as I can get away, okay?”

“Y/N--”

“Just go!” she said sharply in a hiss, pointing towards the back door by the stairs he’d noticed earlier as she disappeared through another door towards the front door, straightening her long sleeve shirt and nervously brushing hair from her face before she vanished from his sight, Levi hesitantly creeping towards the back door even though he had no idea why he had to flee so suddenly when he never had to before.

As Levi quietly opened the back door, he heard conversation faintly from the living room.

“You’re home early, darling. I’ve almost got dinner ready, just a little longer. Let me get that for you…”

Levi paused with his hand still on the doorknob, even though he knew she might be trying to buy him time to slip out the back. But hearing that--darling, home, the beer in the fridge, her comment about being home alone with another guy--

Suddenly he felt like some kind of secret lover being smuggled out the back window. And it bothered him far more than he wanted to admit, the thought of being the other man, even if as far as he knew they were still just friends, considering their kiss had been years ago. She had every right to move on, and he had no right to be jealous. It shouldn’t bother him, he shouldn’t expect her to stay single when neither of them expected to see the other again.

But it still bothered him.

Before he could cause any drama between the two, Levi did as he was asked, shutting the door quietly behind him and hopping the fence of the back yard to sneak out to the street out front. There was an unnecessarily high off the ground truck out front that must have been the source of the rumble sound. Levi spared it a glance before taking a look up at the murky skies up above, a gloominess seeming to hang over the area that seemed like a conglomeration of small, thin houses in various states of disrepair, messy front lawns, cracked pavement…

Levi hesitated in front of the sidewalk, a bad feeling stirring in his gut as he stared back at the house. Nothing about this felt right to him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be here. Yeah, he knew life was shitty, but she’d always made it...brighter. There was nothing bright or warm about this place, and what little conversation they’d had so far left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, her sudden (At least, sudden to him) shift in attitude and demeanor was disconcerting, and he was worried about her.

The chill in the air, however, turned his attention away from the house she didn’t want him inside right now and back towards the street in front of him, mind shifting to finding the location she’d mentioned in the hopes he could find a warmer spot. He wasn’t exactly dressed for a cold breeze, since he was below ground where he lived and currently didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing.

He followed her instructions until he ended up outside a grey and blue building, standing on the sidewalk near the sign that had the street name on it, on the end closest to the direction her place was. He wanted to make sure she could see him when she came, so he stayed outside, even though he was worried it would be a while since she’d mentioned she was making dinner for her and...whoever that was.

Levi sulked, his expression darkening as he stared at the ground, trying desperately not to think about their relationship. Clearly it was further than just dating, they were living together. Were they married? Was she happy with him?

He wouldn’t think so, given her attitude change and the look of the run down house, but who was he to judge? How would he know? He’d been gone for four years, and clearly a lot had changed. Plans for college out the window, she was far from family, she was living in a place that reminded him of Underground houses...It was fucked up how the man’s truck looked more expensive than the house. Wouldn’t you spend more money on where you lived, not your mode of transportation? Y/N had owned a car that was reliable--it wasn’t shiny with a fresh pain of coat, she’d mentioned it was an older car, but it was reliable...and he noticed it wasn’t out front. There was no second car, just the truck.

Is she okay? Is she really okay with this? Is this really what she wants to be doing?

Time continued to stretch by, time that Levi spent simply standing by a street sign waiting for someone who still wasn’t showing up. He was starting to freeze up over here, and while he’d expected it to be a bit of a wait, this was getting a little too long. He was starting to get anxious that he’d spend whatever little time he had here trying to get her.

Just as he started to think to hell with it, he would head back to the house anyway and knock on the front door, she finally appeared on the other side of the street, fiddling with her long sleeves to pull them down again and with a scarf tied neatly around her neck, cheeks flushed and breathing a little heavy like she ran over here. She crossed quickly to reach him, a flicker of that old fire of hers in her eyes as she smiled shyly at him, coming to a stop in front of him.

“Sorry I made you wait,” she said timidly, though she offered no explanation as to why it took so long. “What?” she asked self-consciously, fixing the scarf when she realized he was staring at her with an odd look.

“Why the scarf?” he asked. This was the same girl who rolled around and played in the snow with him without a scarf, leaving it stuffed in her pocket after it kept falling off in all the roughhousing. And that hadn’t been just because they were kids and they didn’t know better or care--this had been four years ago. She hadn’t cared about now sneezy the cold might make her, and she hadn’t cared to even wear the scarf loosely thrown around her neck when she /did/ wear it. Yet now that it was a little nippy out, she wore a scarf tied so neatly around her neck like a second skin, but nothing else? No coat, no hat, no gloves?

She shrugged. “It’s not too bad out--I just wanted something to keep my neck and cheeks warm on the way here.”

Yet the scarf wasn’t pulled high enough to cover her cheeks. Just her neck.

Maybe he was just over analyzing because he was worried about her...

Before he could question her again, she started forward, cutting across a brief green space to head towards the store, pulling briefly on his sleeve before letting go and keeping her hands to herself.

“Come on, let’s get inside where it’ll be warmer. I snuck a twenty, so we should be able to treat ourselves to something. I’d say ice cream for the good old days, but I don’t think the weather’s fitting for that,” she said sheepishly, prattling away. Once more, it didn’t feel quite as natural as it should have been. It felt force, purposeful to distract him. Like she was putting all her effort into putting up a front as she led him through the doors.

What gave it away was her inability to stop talking. Even before, she’d known when to stop and let the silence speak for itself, when to give Levi a chance to talk. She wasn’t doing that right now, prattling on about the store being a chain store found all over the place, talking about how normally the outdoor section they walked through was filled with plants in the spring and summer but they had been put away or pulled inside for the fall and winter seasons, how you could find a general collection for most needs here--whatever came to mind as they walked, she droned on and on about, like it was a nervous tick.

Eventually, when it was just them at the end of an aisle with no one around and he’d listened to the meaningless prattle for a good fifteen, twenty minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he lightly grasped her arm to bring her to a stop. She flinched slightly at the sudden contact, words stuttering to a halt as Levi’s gaze burned into hers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her bluntly. She forced a smile, and it sickened him, made his heart sink. Was this the same girl who’d gotten him to open up and show her some of the broken pieces he kept hidden inside himself? The same girl who’d vented and cried into his shoulder before? Who was at least honest with him before if something was bothering her, simply telling him if it was something she’d rather not talk about, but giving in if it was something she should talk about. Who was this stranger in front of him, thinking forced smiles and lies would convince him that she was fine here.

“Nothing’s wrong--” she started to say, the answer rehearsed and the most false she’d given him yet.

“Don’t pretend. Not with me. It’s insulting,” Levi cut her off before she could continue, wounded that she thought such a thin charade was going to pacify him, and wanting nothing more than to do something if there was something wrong.

The smile faltered, and something deep and dark flashed in her eyes. Not dark as in threatening. The scared kind. The emotional kind. The arm he was still holding trembled slightly in his grip.

“It’s nothing that you can fix, Levi,” she said in a small voice, looking like she suddenly wanted to bolt.

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not. You’re just making it complicated. And I don’t know why,” Levi said, letting a bit of his frustrations leak through as well as his worries as his eyes roamed her face, trying desperately to find the answers of what happened, what changed. “You’re not even yourself right now, you’re just pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. What’s really going on with you?”

“It’s been four years--”

“That’s an excuse, not an explanation.”

“Levi, please, let it go.”

“No. Not this time. Whatever this is, it's not something you can sweep under a rug, Y/N. It’s everywhere I looked in that damn house, and you’re an entirely different person, so tell me so I can try to help--”

“Y/N?”

The new voice made them both look up in surprise, both of them lost in their hushed conversation and as such, completely missing that someone had spotted Y/N from the other end of the aisle and was currently making their way towards a scene that could easily be misinterpreted.

Levi let go of her instinctively before anyone could freak out about the shady guy that wasn’t her boyfriend or whatever that had a hold of her arm, staring at the man that was now approaching them, worry in his gaze as he looked between the two.

Y/N had turned fidgety, staring at the other man with a bit of recognition in her eyes, but not familiarity. “Is there something you need?”

A spark of pity appeared in the man’s eyes. “You’ve wandered a little ways from home, haven’t you?”

Levi’s brows furrowed in confusion at what the man was saying, but Y/N seemed to grow nervous, which put Levi on edge.

“No, I’m just--I’m just out with a friend. For a little while.”

The man’s gaze flickered to Levi, his expression telling Levi that he didn’t really believe her. “Right...but I’m sure Roy is worried sick about you. Let me just call him and let him know where you are so he can--”

“No! No, listen,” she said with panic in her voice, and Levi felt a chill go down his spine as a thought started to take root in his mind, growing with each word uttered in this bizarre exchange in front of him. “I haven’t seen anyone in two years, I know, I’m going home after this, but I just want to spend some time with a friend for a while before I head back.”

“I know what it means when Roy’s not here, you can’t be out on your own like this, you’re confused, you could get hurt--”

“I’m not crazy!” she snapped. The stranger reached out for her arm, she flinched away, and Levi’s hand snapped out to grab his wrist before it could reach again.

The eyes that looked at him were not filled with pity, but hard accusation, apparently deeming Levi as some kind of threat. He wasn’t to her, but he was about to be to whoever the hell this was.

“I don’t know who you think you are taking advantage of a confused girl like this--” the man started to say, but Levi cut him off in a harsh and hard voice.

“I’m a friend who’s known her longer than this Roy guy, and if you don’t keep your hands off her, I will remove them myself.”

The man flinched back from Levi’s grip, which Levi allowed because his attention was elsewhere now, the suspicion that was growing in the back of his mind just needed a little physical proof he was certain he was about to see.

Without asking for permission or giving her any kind of warning that might give her time to try and hide again, Levi gently grasped her arm and yanked back the sleeve. Instead of smooth, unblemished skin, there was a collection of bruises and even a few cuts. His hands turned deceptively still as hers began to tremble.

“Levi, stop, what are you--” she tried to protest, the panic clear in her voice as he grabbed the other arm--gently, again--to pull back that sleeve and reveal the same thing beneath the second sleeve. She tried to flinch away when he reached for the scarf, but he had enough of a grip it pulled loose, revealing fresh, ugly bruises around her throat she’d been trying to cover up by wearing it.

The man behind them was finally silent, and Levi stared wordlessly at Y/N, processing what he was seeing and the confirmation of his theory as she refused to look him in the eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked away in shame.

He’d been trying to figure out what happened to her, what changed, why she was so different. He’d thought maybe his disappearance had hurt her more than he thought, maybe something went wrong at college and things had spiraled out of control, maybe something happened that made her give up hope.

Except this was worse. This was much, much worse.

Of all the things that came to mind in this very moment, he thought of the day he’d seen the fire in her eyes when she swore she wouldn’t be caged. And now he was staring at the shaken form of a woman who had been forced into a cage when she’d fought so hard to escape them and their limitations. Someone had forced that fiery soul he’d admired to bend and break and conform until it was jammed into a too-small and isolated box without color or life.

It was wrong. It was disgusting.

And he was livid.

“Levi...Levi, wait!” Y/N called out in a panic, but for once, he ignored her, gaze dark as he turned without a word and left the building, purposeful steps leading him back the way he came as Y/N chased after him with calls of his name, trying to stop him. He wasn’t going to let her stop him, not this time.

By the time the house came into view, Levi’s blood was burning in his veins, that power in himself that he’d unlocked long ago when he’d decided to protect her from this ugly world rearing its head and chomping at the bit to sink its teeth into this Roy guy.

He tried the front door, only to discover it was locked. She must have snuck out the back, earlier, then, like he had.

“There you are you little sl--��

The angry growl from another man’s voice was cut sharply off as Levi, not in the mood to waste time jumping a fence and coming through the back door, kicked the door in with one simple move. The door’s abrupt burst inwards was what caused the voice to be cut off, as the edge of the door slammed into the man’s face and sent him reeling back.

Levi wasn’t paying attention to physical features, what he looked like, how much larger than him he was, nothing like that. He stepped inside, saw the man holding his nose in surprise, and descended on him like a sicced dog.

Eyes flashing dangerously, Levi gave no explanation for why he, a stranger to this man, kicked down his door and attacked him. He just started swinging, one hand grabbing Roy’s shirt so tight it started to rip and the fabric cut into his throat while the other formed a fist and started repeatedly bashing into his face. Blood sprayed in the first two seconds, but Levi kept going, ducking out of the way as he tried to return a swing, getting underneath him and tackling him into an end table that splintered with the force of the impact, sending them both to the floor.

At that point, Y/N had caught up, and she was standing in the doorway shouting for him to stop. Again, Levi ignored her. He would stop when he felt like Roy’d had enough, and right now, he didn’t think he had. He was on his feet now, foot flying out in violent kicks to do damage to more than just the man’s face, taking his fury of what Roy had done to her out on any body part that came within reach of his foot.

Timid hands locked around his arm, and Levi turned to see Y/N grabbing his arms with tears in her eyes, looking scared and desperate and shaken. He finally stopped, staring at her for a few moments and the tears in her eyes as, once more, she begged him to stop, except now he was looking at her, and he was paying attention.

“Levi, please, I just…” She sniffled, sobbed, and then started to cry, and Levi’s rage started to melt away, heart softening and aching painfully to see her clinging to him sobbing so openly. The last time she’d done that had been when she’d ran away and got lost, and that had been nothing like this.

He turned to face her, hand gently reaching out to touch her shoulder, part of him wanting to stop and comfort her, but the other part knowing this wasn’t the time for that, not yet, anyway.

“Is the house yours?” he asked.

“No…”

“The car?”

“No.”

“Pack your stuff. Whatever’s yours, whatever you want to keep, pack it. I’ll meet you outside,” Levi said softly, giving her a gentle push towards the hall to get her moving and away from the bloody sight of Roy on the ground.

Well, he’d pushed himself up and crawled over to the weathered chest in the center of the room that acted as a coffee table as Levi was focused on and talking to you, flipping open the lid and drawing Levi’s attention back towards him as he heard a faint but recognizable, even in this world, click.

And the weapon was not aimed at Levi, but Y/N still standing in the doorway of the living room looking timid and afraid to leave because of what Levi might do while she was gone.

“Fucking bitch--” Roy yelled as Levi’s hand shot out to knock the weapon out of his hand, the gun firing and the shot going wild as Levi yanked Roy’s hand closer towards him--but the barrel wasn’t aimed at Levi, he wasn’t stupid. The bullet embedded itself into the wall right of Y/N, who screamed as the shot went off.

Levi twisted Roy’s hand until there was a snap and the gun clattered to the floor as Roy let out a short scream of pain, Levi kicking the gun far out reach and pulling out his knife to keep Roy compliant, dragging the man effortlessly out the front door and onto the front lawn, throwing him to the ground as Y/N followed at least just outside the door instead of heading back inside.

“Levi!” she started to shout, but Levi pointed one of his bloodied hands back at the door behind her.

“Go get your stuff--I’ll handle this,” he said firmly, and she hesitated a few moments before she finally headed inside the house to go pack, leaving Levi alone with Roy.

Levi pressed his knee against the man’s back to hold him down, one hand fisted into his hair to hold his head back, knife out and pressed into his throat until blood started to dribble down the blade.

“The only reason you’re not dead, is because I don’t want her to see that. Not to mention you’ve got her so fucked up right now I doubt it would only make her more upset,” Levi said in a low, threatening tone, keeping his words quiet as he spoke so only him and Roy could hear if Y/N came back outside. “So I’m taking her, we’re leaving, and you’re never going to darken the same town as her. If you so much as think of her again, I will gut you and leave you for dead in some dark alley no one will ever find you in. And I was gutting grown men before you had your first beer and started calling yourself a man, so when I say that’s what I’ll do to you, I mean it.”

Levi removed the blade, stepping away and pulling out his handkerchief to start cleaning the blood off his hands and knife, keeping his gaze sharply on the beaten man below him as he waited for Y/N to make a reappearance.

“Who the hell do you think you are to take what’s mine?” Roy spat.

Levi kicked him so he would turn over, putting his boot on the man’s throat to stop him from talking anymore--he didn’t want to hear the filth pouring from his lips.

“I’m the man who will kill you without a second thought if you try anything with her ever again. And she was never yours. She’s a person, not an object.”

Levi watched him struggling underneath him, putting more pressure on his throat whenever Roy tried to claw him off, not an ounce of his currently vicious attention leaving him. He was aware that they had an audience--some neighbors were standing on their porch to see what was going on, no one brave enough to come face the man with the knife who’d beaten Roy to a pulp. Though some of them seemed to be on phones, probably calling for actual help. No matter. They’d be out of here before any police arrived.

Y/N finally appeared, a single, small suitcase in hand, a coat on her frame this time, the scarf tied in place once more to hide the bruise on her throat. Levi’s boot lifted off Roy’s neck, the knife he’d been cleaning now tucked away and out of sight and his hands clean as Y/N timidly started to approach him.

“You won’t make it out of town before the cops--” Roy started to wheeze, but Levi kicked him hard in the head, knocking him out in the process.

He should have done that earlier, honestly.

Levi held out an arm, pulling her protectively to his side with his arm around her shoulders as they quickly left the house behind.

“People are staring,” Y/N mumbled. Her eyes were red from the crying, her cheeks flushed and wet with tears. Levi’s hand gave her shoulder a gentle rub of comfort, trying to give her a bit of assurance.

“Don’t worry about that, let’s just get you out of here,” Levi muttered, taking the directions she’d given him to at least get them to the store she’d had him meet her at.

They could have taken the truck to get out of there faster, so they could just start driving, but he didn’t want to risk Roy coming after her for stealing anything that was legally his, so they were going to have to start on foot until they could find transport.

And as much as he wanted to be the one to take care of her right now, to tell her she didn’t have to worry about anything and he would take care of it all, he was a stranger in this world, and he didn’t understand it nearly as well as she did. He needed her help to get her out of here, get her somewhere safe and secure where Roy couldn’t touch her.

They needed transportation and money. Those were the two important things right now.

“Do you have any money? Any at all?” Levi asked her as they came up on the store.

“No--I haven’t had a job in two years. The twenty from earlier I took from Roy,” she said quietly.

“What about a phone so we can call someone, like your parents?”

“I haven’t had a phone in two years, either.”

Levi made a noise of frustration with how truly stuck Roy made her. He moved her across the country away from everyone she knew (Besides Levi, who appeared wherever she was, but had been missing for four years), took away her transportation, took away her phone so she couldn’t contact anyone, took all of her money so she couldn’t buy her way anywhere, told their neighbors if she was out and about without him she was in trouble because she was unwell or sick in the head or some bullshit…

“If we go inside we might be able to borrow the store’s phone, though,” she said in a small voice. “And get you a new shirt. There’s blood on yours.”

There was. They would probably get odd looks if he went inside with blood on him with a girl that looked shaken and scared, maybe get the police called on them again. This wasn’t the Underground, people weren’t guaranteed to look the other way.

“Give me your coat, then. We’ll go inside, get a new shirt, and you can borrow a phone to call your parents...do you remember their numbers?”

The only number he had to remember was 911 with that lesson she gave him a while back, but he was aware the other numbers were ten digits. And it had been a while since she called them.

“I’ve always known my dad’s number like the back of my hand. And he’s never changed it, so...I can call him,” she said, her voice shaking slightly at the prospect. But she was shrugging off her coat, so clearly she was accepting the idea.

Levi pulled on her coat and covered himself up so the blood on his shirt wasn’t noticeable. The blood on his pants and boots was another story, but that he might be able to brush off as paint or mud considering the dreary weather. Once his hands were through the sleeves, he grasped her hand in his own and gave it a firm squeeze to reassure her, pulling her along after him as he headed for the doors they’d gone through earlier.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he said lowly, guiding them inside. Once inside, though, she took over, walking unsteadily to the other side of the store and approaching the counter with a nervous, jittery disposition as the lady on the other side stared expectantly at her. “Can we, um...can I...I mean…”

“Can we borrow a phone?” Levi interrupted after watching her struggle to get the words out for several painful moments. The lady looked taken aback, gaze scanning them over and narrowing at them suspiciously. “She needs to make a call to her father.”

The woman’s analytical gaze didn’t lessen, but she did gesture to a phone behind the counter. “You can use this one.”

*Reader’s POV*

Your hands were still shaking as you moved around the counter, repeating the number in your head over and over in the hopes that doing so would make it correct. When you were younger, you’d always mixed up two of the numbers, and you were hoping you weren’t about to do that again. You needed this call to go through.

You were still shaken by the abrupt turn this day had taken. When you’d first seen Levi, you were just happy to see /anyone/ outside of Roy. Especially the young man you had been convinced you’d never see again.

But Levi had always been observant, always good at reading people, and it hadn’t taken him long to start digging at things that made you reflexively panic, instinctively trying to hide the truth of your situation even from the one person you thought you might be able to be open with. But Roy had too tight a hold on you and your life--you were too terrified to even let anyone suspect what was going on behind closed doors. It wasn’t like you’d had a way out. He’d stripped you of every freedom and mode of independence until it was too late, until you were isolated and locked in with no sign of ever escaping. So you tried desperately to make it work, for your sake.

And when Roy got home, the thought of him seeing you with another man...you’d felt like you were staring death in the face. No amount of saying Levi was just a friend would convince him, which was why you’d sent him out the back. Of course, you’d forgotten about the two glasses you’d poured earlier, which was where the bruise around your neck came from. Roy had picked you up by the throat and slammed you against the wall, demanding the truth as you desperately spun a lie about pouring yourself a glass and forgetting where you put it until after pouring a second. Your insistence even after you ran out of air might have been what saved your life.

Getting out had consisted of waiting until after you’d finished and served Roy dinner, claiming you were going to take a bath to clean up after all the housework and instead sneaking out the back door. You knew there would be hell to pay when you came back, that Roy would be furious you snuck out of the house he kept you restrained inside, but to see Levi...seeing Levi made it worth it.

Even being in his presence made you feel a little safer, made the air feel clearer instead of suffocating, made a bit of hope peak through the gloom you’d been trapped in. You just wanted a few minutes of that before Levi inevitably disappeared, just a few moments of safety and warmth beside him would be worth any retaliation Roy doled out when it ended.

But the moment was shattered. Any attempt you made to keep Levi from finding out, afraid of what would happen when he did, only made Levi more suspicious, because he knew you, and he’d known something was wrong from the start. It had only taken one look for him to realize you were a bird with broken wings shoved in a corner of a cage and left to die. But you were too afraid to say anything, too afraid of the fallout, of what would happen to Roy. Because part of you had kept believing that if you just tried a little harder, if you just stopped messing up, if you could do one thing right, maybe he would go back to the way he’d been when you first met, maybe you could fix it. It was your fault it had developed to this point, anyway, not his. That was what you believed, anyway.

So seeing the dark fury in Levi’s eyes, remembering the few times he’d come through to your world in the middle of a fight, that one time when you were young that he came back covered in blood, you’d been afraid. You might have never seen Levi like that, but you knew what it would lead to. But Levi was faster than you, and unlike before, he wasn’t going to listen to your pleas to let it go, to stop and leave it be. He was going to do something about it.

The fight had been terrifying to witness--mostly because every witnessed blow made you flinch, and you had never seen Levi with that dark fury in his eyes lashing out at someone with such murderous intent. You really thought Levi was going to kill Roy in that moment.

When you stopped him, maybe part of it had been a conditioned reaction to not let Roy be hurt, maybe part of you was still afraid for Roy because he was still your partner. But Levi was close to you in a way Roy could never fill, no matter how badly you tried to fit the cold and cutting square peg that was Roy into the round hole that was where Levi’s warmth and comfort was supposed to be. You were afraid, but while Roy had conditioned you to be obedient and follow his whims, Levi was the one with your loyalty, with the history, with the true and even reciprocated affection. When you’d stopped that fight, if it could be called that, it was because you just wanted it all to be over. You just wanted out of that hell house and somewhere safe, you wanted Levi to take you with him anywhere but here. You didn’t want him to look scary and covered in blood right now, you wanted him to whisk you away and hold you and tell you it was going to be all right.

But it seemed right now wasn’t the time for that in his mind. He was taking the part about getting you out of here seriously. The only form of comfort you had right now was the fact you were away from Roy at the moment, the small squeezes Levi gave your hand, and the protective arm around your shoulders.

But you kept thinking what would happen when Roy caught up to you. When the police were called and this was considered a kidnapping, when Levi got arrested for the assault at least, possibly worse. When you were dragged back to the house where a punishment that would probably finally leave you dead would be waiting for you. It was what had you so terrified. That someone would pull you out of Levi’s comforting grip and throw you back to Roy, that this couldn’t last, that you’d be dragged back. You had nowhere to go, and no way to leave. No money, no car, no phone, no friends or family in the area, you were isolated and surrounded by people who might see Levi and think he was the abuser.

Your fingers shook as you dialed the number, almost messing up more than once pressing the buttons on the cord phone that was used in the Wal-Mart, waiting as the rings droned on, then ended with your father’s voicemail.

It was the right number.

You just needed him to pick up even though the Caller ID would likely be Wal-Mart from a state he didn’t even go to. He would think it was a scam call. So you had to keep calling until he answered--praying he would answer before the cops caught up, before Roy came back, before the woman at the counter stopped eyeing Levi like that and decided to just do something about whatever she was assuming in her head.

You called again. No answer.

Again. No answer.

No answer.

Nothing.

“Pick up, please,” you let out in a small sob, only realizing then that you were openly crying as you desperately tried to get your father to pick up the phone. You felt a warm hand on your back and looked over to see Levi standing beside you with concern in his eyes.

“Breathe. Just keep trying,” he said softly, giving your back a small rub to help calm you down as you sucked in sharp breaths of air in your effort to calm back down, rubbing at the tears in your eyes as you kept trying the number back to back.

You tried five more times before you finally heard the dial tone interrupted, your heart leaping into your throat. “Whoever this is--” came the familiar voice of your father, the same time that you squeaked out,

“Daddy?”

The word shook and cracked, already showing that you were vulnerable and emotional and needed help. There was a second of silence as your father registered that you were the mysterious caller, and the tone immediately softened from angry and annoyed to worried and even a little panicked.

“Y/N? Are you all right? What are you doing calling from a Wal-Mart? Why haven’t we heard from you in so long? Are you in Washington? Where have you been?” he asked, a thousand bottled questions from two years of silence starting to flow out.

“I’m not. I mean, I am but I’m not. Daddy, I’m in a really bad...Levi found me, he got me out,” you said, looking at Levi as your voice shook, glad to see he was staying firmly by your side with his hand on your back as you spoke, giving you silent encouragement and not moving away at the vulnerability. You didn’t think you could speak if he wasn’t right there to reassure you. “But we don’t have anywhere to go now. We don’t have a car, or money, or even a phone, we stopped at the Wal-Mart two miles from…”

You sniffled, tears blurring your vision as pent up emotions started to bubble to the surface. You didn’t even care that you were in a public place anymore. You just knew you had a man who truly cared about you that you cared for in return at your side, your father on the other end of the line, and you wanted desperately to go with them and be safe and not get dragged back to Roy’s.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” You admitted, hand shaking on the phone and feeling Levi step closer and his grip reflexively tighten on you at your words. “I think they called the police--the neighbors. Levi sort of...he hurt Roy really bad and I think they think he kidnapped me, Roy might try to have Levi arrested, but I don’t want to--I can’t go back there, I just want to get out of here, I can’t go back there.”

Levi full on wrapped you up in one of his awkward but learning hugs, and you turned your head to cry into his chest for a few moments as he murmured to you that it was going to be alright, he wouldn’t let anyone take you away, you holding the phone further away in the hopes your dad wouldn’t hear because a part of you didn’t want him to hear just how bad it was at the same time you wanted to tell him everything.

“Sweetheart, you need to listen to me,” he said once you had the phone pressed back against your ear to hear him. You recognized that voice--it was his ‘I’ve seen a lot of shit as a soldier and led an interesting life, and I’m about to teach you something important as gently as I can, but you need to listen to me’ voice. “I’m going to give you my bank information, you go to the ATM at the Wal-Mart and pull out two or three hundred dollars. Use it to buy a burner phone, get at least a few hours on it, get some food and something to carry it in, anything else you need for two or three days. I’m going to buy greyhound bus tickets the closest to you I can find that’s leaving in an hour or two, one for you and one for Levi so he can keep you safe, so you have enough time to get what you need and get there. Text me on the phone you buy so I know where to send the tickets, I’ll send you the information, and then you need to call the police and tell them what happened so they arrest Roy, make sure you stress that Levi was defending you and trying to get you to safety and they might not come after the two of you to arrest him. Just focus on getting out of the state first.”

You were fairly certain, considering you knew your father and the way he phrased that, that he was telling you two to evade the police at the same time so Levi wouldn’t be arrested and he could stay with you to keep you safe. You were pretty sure extraditing was a thing, but you weren’t going to worry about it right now--especially because you knew Levi would disappear from custody anyway.

“Okay,” you said in a small voice, listening intently as your father moved on to explain how a cardless cash withdraw worked on an ATM and how he was going to approve the withdraw from an app on his phone, while you only needed to enter his number and the codes he was about to tell you, and the amount, and you would have the money. You said a very shaky goodbye that consisted of some I love you’s before you hung up the phone with the codes running in a loop through your mind, hurrying with Levi over to the ATM that was correspondent with your father’s mainstream bank, entering the phone number, the codes, and then ending up with three hundred dollars in your hands, plus the twenty you took from the house.

Levi let you take the lead in this, since you knew what you were doing even if you were the shaken one that was being rescued. You hurried back to the electronics section, buying and quickly activating the first phone that would suit your needs. Once you had it in hand, you texted your father, who replied with four greyhound bus tickets--two for you and two for Levi, the reason for which being he included a transfer, with enough gap between drop off and pick up time for you and Levi to get a room at a hotel and get a good night’s rest before having to get on the next bus. He explained that there was a curbside pickup spot close to your location at a local gas station that would only require you to show the ticket to the bus driver before you were let on, and that it would be there in a little less than an hour. That allowed you time to do any supply shopping and hurry over there, though he again stressed you needed to call the police immediately and try to explain as much of the situation as possible so you could safely run from Roy without it being considered evading the police. And so they wouldn’t be after Levi for kidnapping, at least.

You were pretty sure what Levi had done to Roy went beyond defense, though, so you weren’t optimistic about that. At least there was no trace of him here in this world besides your stories, not even a birth certificate or a match to a fingerprint. Levi was a ghost here. So long as they didn’t catch him, they couldn’t prosecute him.

That was your thinking right now, anyway.

You grabbed a cart, headed over to the fresh foods section, and started grabbing from the lemonade, salads, wraps, sub sandwiches, potato salad, crackers and cheese trays--everything that was premade and ready for you and would keep in a lukewarm environment until you were in a hotel to put it in a minifridge for a while. Stuff you could eat when you felt like it when you needed it. You hurried over to the men’s aisle, and the two of you found a nice white button down and a pair of black dress pants that he could replace the ones he’d been wearing with. By that point you felt like the breath was being squeezed out of you as you ran out of time and pushed your luck only a few miles from Roy’s house, the police probably at the scene and taking statements by now. But that phone conversation was not one you wanted to have in a store surrounded by all kinds of people. You’d probably cry again, and maybe you’d be asked questions you couldn’t answer around so many people.

So you rushed through buying the food and Levi’s replacement shirt, Levi going into the men’s room with the bag to change while you shakily dialed 911 on the phone as you waited for him to finish, putting the phone to your ear.

“911, what’s your emergency?” came a woman’s voice.

“Um...my name’s...my name’s Y/N L/N...I don’t know if there’s been any calls regarding me yet, but I...I needed to call and clarify what hap--what happened before a false report happened, or whatever it is.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly are you calling for?”

You looked around to make sure there weren’t a lot of people, lowering your voice as you tucked yourself against the wall you were leaning against with your bags at your feet, the food in a newly bought, spacious satchel bag and your suitcase on the other side of it.

“My, um...my boyfriend, Roy Higgins, he um...he was...it was a really, really bad situation. An old friend of mine found me--”

“Found you? What do you mean by found you?”

“Roy isolated me. Moved me where there was no one around that I knew, took away my phone and my car and my money, told people I was sick so if I was out alone, without him, to bring me right back. No one knew where I was, they probably thought it was voluntary.”

“Just to clarify, Roy was abusing you.”

“Yes.”

“And you say your friend found you?”

“Yes. He found me, and he saw...he saw how bad I was hurt when I snuck away to see him, and he went back, to Roy and he...they got into a fight. He beat up Roy pretty bad, and Roy drew a gun on me and he tried to shoot me--”

“Was this before or after the fight?”

“In the middle. My friend was...He was coming to get me out of there, he told me to go pack and we were going to leave, and that’s when Roy tried to shoot me, and L--my friend dragged him out front, I don’t know what happened out there cause I was packing, but...I’m not in danger now, I just, I know neighbors were on phones and I didn’t want the police thinking I was kidnapped, or Roy telling the police I was taken, I want to leave, I don’t want to go back there--I can’t go back there and…” You choked off again, ducking your head away as someone walked by so they wouldn’t see you were crying. “My friend’s just trying to get me somewhere safe, where Roy can’t find and hurt me. I didn’t want any police arresting him or bringing me back there, so I...I called 911 so I could...I could report the abuse...and make sure that it was known I left willingly, my friend didn’t take me he was helping and defending me, and he felt my life was in danger, which it was because Roy almost...before I snuck away to see my friend he almost...and Roy’s just trying to drag me back there.”

“Y/N, is it possible for you to come into the police station to give a statement to clear things up?”

“No. No, I can’t stay here, I just, I have to get away, I just want to get far away from here. If you want a statement just let me, let me do it over the phone, or at the station in the other state when I’ve finally stopped running from him.”

At that point, Levi came out of the men’s restroom, looking clean and proper as he took in the sight of you on the phone again, fresh tears on your face. You rubbed your eyes to get rid of them and straightened, Levi picking up the bags at your feet and gesturing for the two of you to get moving.

You followed after him as you continued speaking on the phone, knowing he knew where to go because you’d told him while the two of you were shopping for clothes and food.

“Okay, then Y/N, would you be willing to at least answer some questions right now so the police know some of what Roy’s done, so they can charge him properly?”

“Yes,” you said simply, staring at Levi’s shoes as you spoke while the two of you walked almost side by side. The questions that were coming, you felt like they might be the kind you didn’t want Levi to hear, but you wanted as much as possible on the record as fast as possible. Hopefully Roy would be locked up, and you would have some time before he could come after you.

Because, surely, he’d come after you. He’d want his prize back.

“How long were you two in a relationship?”

“Three years. Roughly.”

“Was he always abusive?”

“Not at first. He eased into it.”

“Was the abuse physical, mental, emotional?”

“All of it.”

“Did he ever sexually abuse you?”

Your gaze flickered to Levi, your voice tiny and barely heard as you spoke into the phone. “How...how would you define that?” You asked quietly, your mind flashing back to what happened to Levi, at long last able to understand what had happened that day, exactly, beyond ‘someone hurt him terribly,’ but unsure if what happened to you counted as that kind of abuse.

“Did he every touch you when you didn’t want to be touched, or pressure or force you to have sex with him when you didn’t want to?”

“Yes,” you said, voice somehow getting lower as you confirmed it. “More than once.”

You were trying to be very brief and vague about the way you confirmed what she was asking, because you didn’t want Levi to figure out what you were talking about, still attempting to shield him from at least some modicum of the reality of what you went through.

What you didn’t know was the Levi could hear what was being said. He was on full alert, keeping his eyes out for the slightest sign of trouble or Roy, and one of the things that meant was that he was listening very hard to his surroundings...and he could pick up the words coming from the other end of the phone with how close to him you were standing. If you were looking at his hands instead of his feet, you would have noticed the white knuckle grip on the bags in his hands, as well as the slight tremble in them.

“You mentioned earlier that your friend was trying to protect you, and that he felt you were in danger. That Roy shot at you. He actively tried to kill you?”

“Twice. Also before I met with my friend,” you told her.

“Had he reached that level of violence before?”

“Yes, but he usually stopped just short of it.”

The questions continued beyond that, the operator fishing for chargeable incidents she could put on the record of the call that you could talk about right now, your answers still kept brief with Levi next to you but still trying to make it clear so no one could claim too much ambiguity and shiftiness in her answers. You were still on the phone as you and Levi stood at the pickup point for the greyhound bus, Levi keeping to himself for the time being as you answered questions on the phone before, at long last, you hung up, pulling up the tickets on your burner phone and making sure to keep your father updated. You told him you were at the stop and that you’d given your side of the story, as well as telling him how much money you had left after the phone, food, and Levi’s clean change of clothes. He mentioned you might need to withdraw a bit more when you stopped to sleep at a hotel, and that he would shift around some money in the meantime so it would be there if you needed it, and that he would be ready to set up the bank withdraw through his phone again if you needed it.

Finally, finally, you tucked the phone into your pocket, looking up and around you at the bus stop, the sun starting to set and making darkness quickly settle over the area, the already chilly air getting gradually colder. The unknown yawning in front of you was terrifying, waiting for a greyhound bus to come and take you far, far away from Roy. The freedom was enough to make fresh tears well in your eyes, but the fear that the rug could still get yanked out from under you, the fact that you didn’t know where to go from here, that still terrified you.

You looked at Levi at your side, noticing that his eyes were still on you even though he’d been keeping to himself and letting you have your conversations in peace. He was tense, even though the lean against the bus stop bench glass wall suggested relaxation. There was only a bit of blood on the brown vest he was wearing over the white button up, the rest thoroughly washed away.

Fully grown, past the teenage years and childhood in general, Levi’s features were sharp and...even more attractive than they had been before. Though he also had a tougher exterior now, a general air of ‘do not mess with me’ that usually the kids in actual gangs in high school used to have. But that vibe wasn’t a deterrent for you, because you knew him as a person. You knew how soft and gentle and warm he could be--as he’d been with you since he’d appeared even when he pushed to try and get the truth from you for your own good, so he could protect you.

And after seeing him beat the shit out of Roy, even if the violence hadn’t been what you wanted because you were so sick of violence right now, and seeing him derail the shot so no one got hurt, you were never going to doubt that he could protect you ever again.

“Everything set?” Levi asked as you stared at him, straightening up and coming to stand directly beside you now.

You nodded. “The trip should bring us...or me, if you disappear again...to Dad’s,” you said, a slight waver in your voice at the thought of him disappearing. You didn’t want to go again. He was your safety blanket, your stability, the thing you were clinging to right now to get you through this, to get you to take the necessary steps to freedom, what was making you feel safe right now. You didn’t want him to disappear, you weren’t ready for him to disappear, especially with that lingering fear that it might be for years again, that you wouldn’t see him for so long--

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe,” he said bluntly, holding your gaze to make sure you understood he meant it.

Though you didn’t know how he was going to stop the universe throwing him back into his world, you didn’t question him. Instead, you stepped closer, put your arms around him, buried your face in his chest, and started to silently cry, seeking his comfort once more.

He put his arms around you tenderly, holding you securely against him until the greyhound bus appeared at the end of the street to take both of you far, far away from this place.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @queenofcurse

Through the Looking Glass Tags: @artist-bby @kaz2y5-pie @tartheyes @super-peace-fangirl @huntersbunker @nefelimalfoy @soft-levi-girl-blog @honeygivemeachainsaw @regalillegal @sugas-daddy7 @cathyannecookie @chaoticshepardplaid @roayaloveslife @sanrioclit @wvnderfvllyalvne @sparkling-gayyyy @do-not-feed-sugar

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