#{like maybe she somehow wound up in someone's kitchen ;D }
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fossilsandfeathers · 6 years ago
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(starter: @m-for-mischa)
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From the hallway came a low hissing sound, like an angry snake, and after that a small collection of snorting and snuffling. Then the silhouette of an animal appeared below the lintel of the kitchen doorway. It was small, bipedal, with a reptilian face and a long, stiff tail.
Slowly, cautiously, it crept forward into the kitchen, silent as a ghost except for the hissing of its breath and the sound of its toe-talons clicking across the cool tiled floor. At one point it stopped by the island-counter, drew its self up to its full height (which was only slightly larger than that of a common hen), and scanned its new surroundings in the same, calculating, almost mechanical way a hawk might scan a field for mice. When its golden eyes fell on the stranger by the table, it let out a low snarl. Not a threat, but an appeal.
It was asking the stranger to toss it a scrap of fresh meat…
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sublimecatgalaxy · 3 years ago
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Can you write fluff alphabet for Faye?
FUCK YESSS I love writing things for my girl that isn't angst or smut. I love fluffy Faye. I love her.
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A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
She liked to drive around, to find a place to sneak away to. You and her never had much alone time, Fez and Ash always wanting to butt into your relationship in every way, shape and form. It wasn't often that you had alone time so you could go out and try to find someplace to call your own. Someplace to go to get away.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
She liked that you had the ability to match any of her emotions. If she was angry, you'd be angry with her, if she was happy, you'd be happy with her, and if she was sad, it would break your heart.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
She would definitely be the type to distract you. Once you've calmed down of course. She would hold you or let you rant as long as you needed to before helping you out of your funk. She'd put on a movie or drag you to the kitchen to make food for you.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
She wanted it to be just you and her for the rest of your lives. She wanted to be able to relax with you, smoke with you, get an apartment and maybe a few pets with you. A low maintenance life, easy going and full of love.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
She's definitely the more passive one. She really didn't speak up for herself and she definitely didn't like to argue. Her whole relationship with Custer was surrounding around how meek and mild she was. But with you, it wasn't a fault or anything. It was something that she was happy to be, she was happy to be quiet now.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
She refused to fight with you. Occasionally your periods would link up or you guys would disagree about something which brought tension between the two of you but it never lasted very long. She didn't like when you were mad even the slightest at things that didn't involve her, so it was hard for her to see you upset at her.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
She's so grateful for you but you're definitely the one who would be more thankful. She's just so easy going, so easy to be with, so you would find yourself apologizing a lot or thanking her a lot, especially when you don't have to do either of those things.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
This is simple, she just never had anything to share let alone lie about. You were pretty much always with her and she loved to gossip with you, so there'd be no issue with lies and secrets.
I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
She definitely never had the urge to do heavy drugs again once she met you. You were enough of a drug to her, wanting to get lost in you all the time. You definitely helped her heal any wounds that she felt after leaving Custer, trust issues and mending her fragile ego.
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
She really thought that jealousy was idiotic. If someone's with you, and they chose you, then what's the issue? She was simple when it came to it, never really worrying about your relationship or anyone else getting involved.
K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
She's a good kisser but a timid one. She'd wait for you to make the move to deepen it, not understanding your queues until months and months into the relationship.
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
I don't think you guys would ever actually have a love confession. I think it would be more of this thing that you both just knew. All of a sudden, one day you would just start telling each other that you loved each other. It wasn't an issue or a big deal, just something you were both aware of.
M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
Again, you two really wouldn't need fancy rings or a party. You'd probably end up just going to a local church to get married with Fez and Ash being witnesses, smoking some weed with the boys with smiles on your faces.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
Bubs for sure. But from you to her. She was bashful about names since Custer never really let her call him names. It was something he was still getting used to, occasionally calling you baby or honey.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
She just knew that she loved you when she couldn't stop smiling around you. She never doubted her love for you one bit and everyone else around you knowing just from her smile that she loved you.
P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
You guys didn't go out much so most of your affection was kept at home. Whether it be your room or on the livingroom, you would keep your love just between the two of you, not wanting to be a spectacle for those around you.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
She was just really calm and really chill. She wasn't combative or angry or argumentative, it made everything easy.
R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
She was simple, so she really didn't go above and beyond because it just was something that she didn't think of too deeply. You liked when you did things together, or when you would try a new restaurant. So sometimes she'd find a new one and introduce it to you.
S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
She wanted you to be whatever you wanted to be, she was just happy to be able to follow you aimlessly like a lost puppy. She would go anywhere your success led the two of you.
T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
She liked simplicity and easiness. She didn't like to switch things up, keeping on with your normal daily routine, occasionally going on a date or going on a run with Fez and Ash.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
She's the most understanding. She had no reason to think you were lying or fake. She knew that you loved her and she knew that you were honest. She was also a big believer on giving someone what they give her. So if you were trusting and empathetic to her, she was it back to you.
V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
She really didn't have anyone else other than you, Fez and Ash. You guys were her family, her everything. She loved to tell you how important you were to her, your cheeks warming at her grateful words.
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
She was happy to be done with heavy drugs by the time she met you. She was happy that she didn't have to put that weight on you, that you never had to meet her when she was at her lowest. She was also happy that you never had to meet Custer.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
Very affectionate. She didn't care if Fez and Ash were home, she would be thrown over your lap with a smile, her fingers playing with yours. She loved to be cuddled up with you on the couch, a blanket thrown over you two.
Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
She wanted to be close to you 24/7, no matter what. She just liked the comfort you offered to her and you liked that she made it so known that she needed you. And you would give her anything she wanted, any time.
Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
You guys didn't really have any issues with your relationship so there were never any instances where either of you had to fight for each other or your relationship.
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yuzukult · 3 years ago
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i’m bad too 16 || kdy & reader
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title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, word count: 1.8k warnings: none a/n: :D hope you guys enjoy!! taglist: @wownajaemin​​​ @crescent-iak​​​ @ncttboo​​​ @byunbaekby​​​​ @jinfizz​ @doyoungyoung​ @ahgayeah0305​ @doyobun​ @sexualitaeyong @mrkleelvr​ @m1ss-foodi3​ @hcwurld​
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Doyoung looks so pretty like this.
The space between his brows are crinkled in vexation, hair unstyled and brushing against his forehead with his lips pursed while focusing on the task at hand. He’s taken the day off of his internship for this, with approval from your brother, and plus, the way his eyes are sunken and the breakouts on his skin are appearing, it seems like he deserves to chill out for a bit.
But, he seems to refuse to do that, opting that his priority is to take care of you.
Doyoung hasn’t been back to his apartment other than just to grab the necessities—his business casual attire for work, underwear, some lounge clothes, and just things here and there that might be useful. But he hasn’t slept in the comforts of his own bedroom, no, instead he’s been sleeping at your side in your room.
“Would you stop squirming?”
“Well, you could say it’s a bit weird when someone else does it for you.”
Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Be cooperative. I’m trying to make it better.”
You puff your cheeks in agitation, stubborn because you’re not used to this much physical touch, despite the amount of times you’ve slept with Doyoung. There’s something about this that feels more intimate, not like a quick bang for pleasure, but rather he’s doing this because he cares about you.
“Steady. Just a little longer and we’ll be good.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago.”
“It has not been twenty minutes.” Doyoung isn’t that same soft boy you met months ago. He’s gotten intrepid, unabashed by any smart or sharp remarks that you throw his way, in fact, he dodges them or bites the bullet before resuming back to having you in his arms. “You think it’s been twenty minutes because you’re preoccupied with nagging about how you don’t like this happening.”
“It’s weird,” you state, tapping your fingers against the wooden frame of your bed as a distraction. You could use a cigarette, but somehow you managed to let a pretty boy like Doyoung convince you to stop. “I don’t like having people this close.”
“I’m literally just replacing your gauze.”
You frown. “It’s… intimate.” Doyoung can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at your response as he reaches for a fresh new gauze. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do, I just—”
“You won’t let your own boyfriend touch you like this?” He queries, and you’re starting to find yourself in this position often. He’d say something bold, something that he normally doesn’t do, and it leaves you feeling small like you used to do to him. Oh, how the tables have turned. He calls himself your boyfriend recently, despite not officially making it a label, but you like it. It feels… right, for once, like this is how it’s supposed to be.
“It’s not that,”
“Then you should just let me do this, yeah?” He tosses the old bandage into the trash. “Plus, we’re almost done anyways. Would you like to go on a walk after this? I kind of wanted to talk about something.”
Staying put, you inhale in a deep breath in surrender because you’re curious about what he wants to discuss. He remains focused, wrapping you once again, despite the fact that the staff at your house offers to do it since it’s their job, but Doyoung insists it’s his job as much as theirs.
After pulling your shirt down, he offers a hand, helping you transition over to your wheelchair, one you’ve grown to hate because it makes you feel helpless, and Doyoung takes you down the hall.
“There’s an elevator down the hall.”
“A what?”
“An elevator,” you reiterate, and Doyoung doesn’t move, feet rooted into the ground. “We don’t have many floors because we do have an elevator. Goes here, the lobby, basement, then the wine cellar.”
“There’s a wine cellar under your basement?”
“You don’t have one?” He knows it’s a joke, so he just shakes it off and heads over to the large metal doors. Your personality never showcases your wealth, and although he’s in your beautiful home with staff that fills up the majority of it, he still forgets the money you come from.
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Naeun is still gorgeous, despite the bruises on her cheeks and the cuts that are scattered across her face.
She’s wiping her hands, after running them under the water in the sink, soaping up her previously flawless porcelain skin that’s now marked with the aftermath of another fight. “How are you feeling?”
“Could be better,” you admit, rolling around the kitchen in your wheelchair. “How are you feeling?”
“Bitchin’,” she states calmly, giving a thankful gaze in Doyoung’s direction when he slides over the first aid kit toward her. “Lover boy been takin’ care of ‘ya?”
“Wish he’d go home and take a break for once, but yeah. Good boy decided he wants to play nurse.”
“Why do you guys talk like I’m not here?”
The two of you shrug, waving him off as Naeun hops onto the granite countertop and begins tending to her own wound. “There’s been another attack,” you glare at her and Naeun only rolls her eyes. “He already knows, don’t act like he’s all innocent to this.” She dabs the remnants of blood on her lip before grabbing the disinfectant wipe. “Johnny’s dead, just so you know.”
“What? Johnny’s dead?”
“Nah, he’s undercover,” she winces at the impact of the alcohol against her open cut. “Fuck.”
You furrow your brows. “Why would you tell me that?”
“Just kidding, he’s dead.”
“Naeun,” you say sternly. She’s playing another game.
“Just kidding. I’m just testing your cognitive skills.” Searching for the neosporin, she gives a quick scoop of the ointment and applies it on. “Seeing if you can still think the same. I have a really bad itch that they’re gonna ask you to come back, love.”
“That doesn’t sound like something I’m interested in,” you’re pointing to all of your gunshot wounds. “Got a couple holes in my body that are still whistling when the wind blows.” Tilting your head, you’re trying to make out the expression on her face from underneath all that hair. “What’s with that look?”
She jolts her head at you. “What look?”
“You know something.”
“Other than Johnny’s death?”
“Naeun.”
“Alright,” she sighs, leaning back against her arms. You can’t help but notice the twitch in her lip, and it’s not from her cut. “Rumor has it, they’re going to try to initiate you again. This time, maybe not so nicely.”
“Even after I went through all that trouble? In case they’ve forgotten but I literally have holes in my body. I risked my life for the guy and here I am, sitting in a wheelchair, unable to fucking take a piss by myself, and he wants me to hop back on the field again?”
“You know how he is,” Naeun says apologetically, although none of this is her fault. She’s just the middle man, the bearer of bad news, and she’s only doing her job by protecting the Boss but you’re not even directly tied to the group, just simply a contractor. “He sees your capabilities, thinks you’re more than worthy, he wants to keep you. Seeing that you’re standing in front of the bullets, taking one for the team and protecting those who are part of us… it only makes him want you more.”
“But he can’t even wait?” You exasperate, baffled by his abruptness despite the fact you were still going through a recovery period. “I’m not even ready yet.”
“Well, he’ll give you some time—”
“You’re making it sound like it’s soon.”
She looks pained. “It… It is soon. He thinks the sooner you begin training, the better. You’ll be better equipped and—”
“I thought this was supposed to be temporary,” you state, voice firm. “I mentioned prior that this was simply a gig I needed to get by.”
“This was before you caught the mole. Before you put yourself in danger, protecting the members of the organization. You proved yourself more than capable, and he wants that. He wants you. You get the job done. Why do you think we keep coming back and hiring you? Because sometimes, you don’t even need a gun. You have your fucking head and that’s the weapon.”
“Well, I need a break.”
“There is no break.”
“Naeun, I almost died. To be quite frank, I don’t give a fuck what Taeyong says. I’m taking a break.”
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The sunset is breathtaking; warm hues over the horizon, shining on the Good Boy’s face and only adding on to the fact that he’s also the golden boy. Seated on the picnic blanket beside you, he’s resting his weight back on his arms, eyes closed, soaking in the sun with a soft smile upon his face, inhaling in deep breaths to soothe his nerves. “This is nice. I’m glad you suggested it.”
You hate that you have to lean against this make-shift seat, back pressed on the trunk of the tree. But it hurts so bad to sit on your own; parts of your torso require you to straighten yourself because any slight bend stings. You desperately miss being able to function on your own—it’s so embarrassing asking your boyfriend to do things for you.
“You good?” He asks, turning over his shoulder to glance at you. “I hear you wincing.”
“I’m fine,” you mutter, adjusting yourself once more. “I’m just… getting comfortable.”
Doyoung sighs, finally picking up on your personality and habits by now, so he slides himself back just a bit and extends his legs. “Come here.”
You quirk a brow. “What?”
He pats his lap. “Come here. Lay your head on my lap, and enjoy the sun with me. We can soak in the warmth, and talk about what’s on your mind. Feels like you’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and not a whole lot of talking.”
Conceding, it takes you a while but with Doyoung’s help, you’re finally laying—there’s less pain in this position, and you’re grateful he suggests it. He brushes your hair out of your face, a soft smile looking down at you that tugs on your heartstrings. “You’re probably thinking a lot.”
“I am,” he admits, pursing his lips. “Have been for a while.”
“Well… will you tell me?” You’d be lying if you said that Doyoung confessing he’s been pondering frequently doesn’t make you nervous. There’s always that possibility of him deciding that maybe this wasn’t for him—that taking care of you, learning you’re a sort of a hitman and part of some shady organization, or that your family owned the company that he worked at wasn’t… what he signed up for.
But that stupid grin doesn’t ever wipe off of his face. “What is it?”
And with a gentle voice, he says with a press of a kiss on the crown of your head, he says these words that have you levitating. “I love you.”
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rosesgonerogue · 4 years ago
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Finding You (Again)
Chapter Two 
Masterlist
Damian
He hadn’t actually meant to say those things to Marinette. When Dick had burst in carrying her, his mind had gone to all of the worst case scenarios. How could he live with himself if Marinette was seriously hurt, or even worse, killed? She was too gentle, too precious to be sacrificed for Gotham’s sake. 
Of course, he couldn’t bring himself to express any of that. Damian was angry, angry at what could have happened to his wife, and angry at his wife for putting herself into the situation in the first place. A part of him wanted to cave, to apologize for his poisonous words, but he was stubborn. (Luckily Marinette wasn’t an easy crier, or he would have buckled right then and there.)
So he watched her march out, his fact fixed into one of passive disapproval until she was far gone. Even then, it took a few minutes before anyone felt like they could talk. 
“That was not handled well, Demon Spawn,” Todd said, finally breaking the silence. 
“As you are the last person I would ever ask for marriage advice, remind me to never listen to anything you say, Todd.” 
“No, Little D, Jason is right,” Dick said hesitantly. “I understand you were worried about Marinette, but that definitely felt like you were attacking her. You don’t just yell everything someone might be doing wrong at them, especially in front of the entire extended family. That was just… cruel.” 
“I don’t need it from you either, Grayson,” he spat. “Alfred, I’ll be needing a room prepared for me tonight.” 
The elderly man gazed at him, eyes sad. “There is so much about Miss Marinette and the Miraculous that you do not understand, Master Damian. I shall prepare your bedroom for you.” 
Damian could feel his eye begin to twitch as Alfred departed, followed by Bruce who said nothing. He simply gave his son a disappointed look. It hurt more than Damian cared to admit. 
“You’re selling her short,” Drake said, actually pulling his head away from the computer. “These are all things you would have thrown Jon into the middle of without thinking, and she’s just about as indestructible as he is. A number of those abilities and immunities have likely permanently altered her body, not just the suit.”
“And some of those things can’t be faked, Demon Spawn. The girl’s more of a tactical genius than the Replacement,” Jason said before standing up. “By the way, she’s always been too good for you. Let’s hope you didn’t f--”
“Goodnight, Jason,” Dick said, shoving his brother through the door. “Tim, you’re cut off, no more computer tonight. It’s bed time. And Little D, try to get some sleep. You and Marinette are both running on high emotions right now. Let things settle and tomorrow you two can talk when you’re calmer.” 
Damian watched impassively as his brothers left the batcave, leaving him alone with his thoughts. It was a dangerous thing, actually. He found himself with his head in his hands, mind replaying every cruel word he’d said to his precious wife. 
He dragged his hands down his face, willing his thoughts to redirect themselves to any place other than the wounded look in her eyes. That image warred in his mind with the thought of Marinette cold, pale, and lifeless. 
He didn’t know what to do. Marinette was strong, but the thought of what could happen, the thought alone of losing her was almost enough to break Damian. But he knew she wouldn’t stop being Ladybug, and he didn’t know how to process his panic, so it just became anger. 
This was absurd. He was obviously overthinking things. Damian would go to sleep, and when he woke up he would figure out some way to adequately apologize to Marinette, and maybe even get her to see his side of things. It would all be fine. 
It was not all fine. Damian found himself inexplicably lonely that night, and he was barely able to sleep a wink. Then, when he woke up from his fitful sleep he had to deal with the entire family telling him how badly he’d messed up, including a furious Mar’i, who couldn’t stand the thought of him having made her Aunt Nettie cry. 
“Maybe I was too harsh,” Damian admitted, gritting his teeth. “But she’s reckless lately, and I’m not the only one at fault for this fight.” 
“We’re not telling you to give up the fight,” Stephanie said, snagging a bagel. “We’re telling you to go talk to your wife like a grown adult instead of badmouthing her in front of your entire family.” 
“I - have I really been that bad?” 
“Damian,” Bruce said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “we leave dangerous lives, but it’s even worse if we don’t trust each other. Marinette is good for you, she tempers you when you trust her. If you want that again you need to go talk to her.” 
When everyone had said their piece, Alfred had all but dumped him out of the house, his expression closed. That alone made some of Damian’s anger die down. He’d never had Alfred so… disappointed in him before. 
So he pondered just what to say to her as he walked home. Would she be angry, sad? Would she cry? Would he cry? The possibilities were endless, but never once did he consider that his wife wouldn’t be there. 
The door was still locked - at least he knew she was still rational enough to care about her safety to that degree. When he’d pushed it open, he called, “Marinette?” 
She was not in the kitchen or the living room, nor was she in the room where she worked on commissions. A pit twisted in his stomach when he pushed open their bedroom door, only to find it similarly empty. 
He wasn’t sure when he had sunk to the ground, but somehow he was sitting on his butt, hugging his knees to his chest. Surely this was some kind of nightmare - he had to be back asleep at Wayne Manor, and his guilt was trying to communicate with him. Damian would wake up and genuinely apologize to his wife, because he was lucky to have her with him in any capacity. 
But he didn’t wake up. He didn’t apologize to his wife, because as long as he waited, she never walked through the door, looking for him. 
Damian had already lost his reason for living.
Taglist: 
@tbehartoo @kris-pines04 @thesunanditsangel @constancetruggle @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @rosalineandrosemary @novicevoice @momothefemur  @theymakeupfairies @maskedpainter @mystery-5-5@dast218 @tip-tap-tired @zerotosiki @rebecarojas07 @bookgirl14 @certainmuffinbagelcalzone
Note: Happy Holidays, everyone! As an early Christmas present you get angst. If anyone would like to be tagged, just leave a comment below!
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Stay With Me (Pt. 02 of 09)
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Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader
Word count: 2.4 K
Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.
Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.
<- Previous part (01)
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{The Walking Dead Masterlist}
I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22 , who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!
×
Fear
As much as you're trying to stay alive, to live, if there's still a life worth living, you have to admit it's hard. It's harder than dying. Death doesn't hurt this much, you think. It's been only a couple of days since Daryl brought you here, and if it wasn't for him, and also Carol, you wouldn't be able to do more than stay in bed.
Your body will take long to heal, says Denise, who comes every day to check on your wounds. The talking soon started. You often overhear Carol in the hall, muttering about how you don't talk. About what happened before. They know your wounds were inflicted. It's quite obvious. But you do talk, just not to her. You have exchanged some words with Daryl, not much though.
Today, after Carol helped you take a bath, you pull the blankets up, over your shoulders. You would like to wear pants, but the wound on your left leg is too deep, Denise said, bone-deep. So she doesn't want anything covering it, not wanting you to move in your sleep and cause the fabric to pull and squeeze it. You don't complain though. This wound is the worst, you soon realized. It doesn't mean the rest is any better, but the leg... It kills you. The painkillers only work for a couple of hours, and you have to endure the pain until you can have the next dose.
It's a nightmare.
It's only worse when you try to sleep.
Whenever you close your eyes, the memories overcome you. Keeping your eyes open in the darkness isn't much better. That's when you realized you don't have to be asleep to have nightmares.
“(Y/N).” Daryl's voice gets your attention, and you roll to lay on your back. He comes in, looking down at you, worried. As usual. “Carol told me ya don't wanna to go outside.”
That again. “No.” You mumble. Carol wants you to get some sunlight, on the porch. But you rather be in here, away from people's eyes.
“Why?”
Breathing heavily, you push yourself up, biting your tongue when pain takes over. Moving backward, you release the air you were holding when your back reaches the headrest.
“Ya need it. To soak in some vitamin D.” He furrows his eyebrows in the end, and you wonder if he's just repeating Carol's words. “Nobody here will hurt ya. Trust me.”
“Would you stay with me?” Your voice still sounds weak for not using it. Looking at your hands, you wonder if you should even ask this of him.
“Wouldn't ya feel more comfortable with Carol?”
Slowly, you shake your head no. Carol has been very kind, but still... You can't bring yourself to feel safe around her. Not completely.
“You don't have to.” Despite the constant need to be around Daryl, to feel safe, you can't force him to be around you. It's not fair. Clenching your hands into fists, you close your eyes. The thought of leaving this room without Daryl makes your whole body shake, tremble. “You don't have to. But I'll stay here. I-if someone out there sees me they will–”
“Hey, hey.” You feel the mattress moving, eyes opening, terror creeping over at the feeling of someone near you. But when you find Daryl's blue eyes, your whole body slows down, and you have to fight back the urge to touch him.
“I'm sorry.” The words come out, but not the sound.
There's a battle inside you. Maybe your mind is way too wrecked, as far as your body, and it's struggling to take a grip on reality. The only thing you know is that you can't go outside without Daryl. He will protect you, keep you safe from anyone who tries to hurt you. And without him... You're an easy prey. You always have been.
“That's not it. I just... I don't get why ya want me around.”
You don't understand him, why he sounds so... Sad. Desolated, even. You haven't noticed until now, but looking further, you recognize something in his eyes. Something you're sure people can see in you too. Pain. Suffering. A past that almost killed you, not only physically.
“You're my hero.” Whispering, you tell him, wondering if you've been looking for too long into his eyes. “I... I know you'll keep me safe.”
“C'mon then.” He finally says after almost a minute of silence.
You're starting to move, pushing your right leg to the floor with a groan when Daryl gestures for you to stop before picking you up. He's careful with the blanket, keeping it around you. A moan escapes your lips when a sharp pull makes your leg burn.
“Ya ok?” Eyes closed tightly, you nod. “Sorry.” He mutters before he starts walking. You finally get a look at the house. The walls are a light pale blue, with not much for decoration. Downstairs, the living room feels cozy, with two couches and a fireplace.
“You got her out!” Carol exclaims, causing you to cling more onto Daryl, heart racing suddenly. “It's good to see you down here, (Y/N).” She gets in your sight when Daryl turns a bit, coming from the kitchen with a smile on her face.
“Gonna stay out there with her.”
“That's good.” She happily nods. “The sun will warm you up.”
You know you should say something. Or smile. Somehow respond to her kindness, but you just can't. You just rest your head on Daryl's shoulder, a hand tugging on the collar of his shirt.
“Alright, let's go.” You're relieved when he starts moving again. Until you're outside.
The sunlight casts a soft, golden light on the street, and a cold wind messes with your hair. This is beautiful, peaceful if you consider the world you live in. But your eyes start looking for any signs of people, anxiety building up as Daryl puts you down on a wooden chair. When he let's go of you, your hands immediately grab the edge of the chair, so hard the muscles of your arms burn.
“Hey.” He calls, kneeling in front of you. “Relax.” Daryl takes both your hands, removing it from the chair. “I'll be right here with ya.” He then stands up, stepping back to lean against the white wooden railing.
With your eyes locked on his, you rest your back on the chair, taking a deep breath. It's good to be out, and the sunlight falling on your face and neck feels nice. You can't remember the last time you enjoyed it, the last time you even had the chance to just sit in the sun. Opening the blanket, you allow the sun to illuminate the skin of your arms. But your eyes start following the bruises, purple and greenish, the grazes and the scratches...
“Daryl.” An unknown voice gets your attention and you turn your head at the source. A man climbs the steps, and you start breathing fast. His beard reminds you of one of them. The one who smiled as he sliced your skin. “Is this (Y/N)?” His eyes fall on you.
How does he know your name?
When he steps in the porch, you look at Daryl, reaching out your hand. It takes a while until he understands, until his hand touches yours. Through the corner of your eyes, you see the man coming closer, and you need to hide, to run away.
In a jolt of adrenaline, you pull yourself up, almost stumbling down, your body finding no other way but to collide against Daryl's chest. A groan leaves your lips as you lose your breath and hide your face. Both your hands grab his shirt, all your weight on the right leg.
“Hey, ‘s alright.” His chest vibrates as he speaks, but you don't move, you just want to disappear, to stay away from whoever this man is.
“I don't get it.” The man says, making you flinch, tears already rolling down.
When your leg gives upholding you up, you almost fall, but Daryl is quick to hold you up. “ ‘S alright. C'mon.” He takes you in his arms again, and you hide your face on the crook of his neck, eyes tightly shut, as if it would make you disappear.
Your body shakes when a sob comes, the image of that bearded man filling your mind. ‘You'll beg me to do this to you in no time. You'll learn to enjoy the blade slicing your pretty skin open.’ He said, laughing, giggling. He holds you down, his body making it impossible for you to move.
“(Y/N).” Daryl's voice brings you back, and you notice you're in bed again, still holding on to him. “Look at me. Hey.” His hand comes to your face, but you can't open your eyes. “Ya need to listen to me. Yer safe here, I promise.”
“No.” You mumble, forcing yourself to look at him, his face close to yours, foreheads almost touching. “H-he looks like that man. He... He...” A hand comes to your side, to the cuts under your breast. “I need you to stay with me.” It comes out as a cry, voice cracking, sobs out of control. If he let's go of you, you'll break down. “Please. Please.”
“Slow down.” You feel his arms around you, and you curl up against his chest. “ ‘M right here with ya. Calm down.”
His arms are the only place you're safe. The only place you won't be hurt again.
“Daryl. Rick wants to speak to you.” Carol says, her voice low and soft, fading in the end.
“Tell him to wait,” Daryl mutters, a hand caressing your hair.
“I'll get her some water.”
“Alright.” He answers, pulling away. “(Y/N), look at me.” Blinking a few times to push the tears away, you meet his eyes. They look like the sky during summer, or like the ocean, steady and calm. “That was Rick. A friend of mine. He's been with us since the beginning, he would never hurt ya.”
“I... I...” Stuttering, you try to catch your breath. You don't know what to say, you just need to stay away from anyone who isn't Daryl. “Don't let him come here.”
“I won't. But I need ta’ see what he wants.” You immediately shake your head no, not wanting to be left alone. “I'll be right there.” He gestures at the door. “I'll be right there in the hall and then I'll come back ta’ stay with ya, 's that alright?”
No, it's not. “Ok.” You tell him, not hearing your own voice.
The cold creeps over your skin the moment he let go of you, so you pull the blankets closer, eyes on his back, on the wings... Until they disappear. Carol comes soon after with a glass of water, sitting on the bed and handing it over to you.
“Drink, (Y/N).” She urgers and you do as she says, hands shaking as you take a sip.
Daryl's low voice reaches you, along with another voice, from that man. Rick. He said he's name is Rick. You never learned the name of the one who cut you, they never allowed you to know anything about them. It was part of the torture, probably.
“She needs to be introduced to the group. They need to know who she is. Who she was before, you know that.” The man says, his voice coming from the hall outside the bedroom.
“She's wounded. Ya don't know how much.”
“I get it, but we take no exceptions. We can't. She's been here for days.”
“(Y/N) doesn't even talk yet.” Daryl raises his voice a little, annoyed. Your eyes are on the open door, waiting for him to return. “Something happened to her. People hurt her.”
“She speaks to you, doesn't she? I heard her–”
“She's not ready yet!” His thunder voice makes you shake a little, and you exchange a glance with Carol.
She gets up, moving to the door. “Could you take this downstairs?” She asks them, stepping back in and closing the door.
You start moving backward, a groan of pain escaping when your sore muscles complain. You wait for it, the noise of the door closing once again, soaking out the light, the click of the locks that imprison you in complete darkness. The cold that hovers over as you wait for the next day. The next one. The next torture.
“Don't.” Daryl's voice cuts in, a force of itself, pulling you away from the memory, back to reality. Daryl holds the door before it closes. “Keep it open.” You don't know how exactly he knows it, but you're happy he does.
Carol nods, returning to sit on the bed. “You two have something going on that I don't know about.” She mumbles, and you look down at your hands.
“She needs time and she'll have it. If Deanna wants to throw her out, tell her I'm out too.” Walking fast, he's soon back in the bedroom, gesturing for Rick to leave. Daryl's angry. You've never seen him angry. “Carol get out.” He mutters, not bothering with her eye roll. He stands beside the bed, and you reach for his hand.
“I'll talk to Rick. Put some sense into his head.”
He doesn't answer, sinking down on the mattress in front of you. His expression softens when you look into his eyes, the anger from seconds before vanishing. “Ya need to talk.” He begins, keeping his voice low. “Ya need to tell me what happened to ya. Who did this to ya.”
Blinking a few times to push the tears away, you look at your hands, clenching them into fists.
“If ya tell me, I will tell the group. Ya won't have to ever say it again.”
The last thing you want is to revisit all that happened. Your mind already does that, a lot, bringing you back to the place where you learned what real fear is. What pain and suffering are. The place where your worst nightmares had to flee. They were nothing compared to what happened there. And speaking of it is far worse. It brings it back to life all over again, make it happen all over again...
But it's better to tell Daryl then than to anyone else. This Rick or this group Daryl talks about. No, that you couldn't. If you tell Daryl, he'll understand. He'll keep you safe, keep you from ever going back there.
“Alright.” You mutter, taking a deep breath, feeling as your ribs ache when the air fills your lungs. Bracing yourself, you start.
×
@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad
230 notes · View notes
khaleesiofalicante · 3 years ago
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HI, IT'S ME! YOUR LOCAL CHAOTIC WEIRDO!!!!! I'M BACK AGAIN LIKE I AM TWICE EVERY WEEK
IT'S MY BOY DAVID THIS TIME! WHY AM I SO HYPER! MAYBE BECAUSE THEY KISSED! AND I HAD TO SUPPRESS MY SCREAMS BCAUSE IM IN CLASS AND THE REST OF MY FAMILY IS OUTSIDE MY DOOR (NOT LITERALLY OFC)
OK OK OK OK OK OK
MAX AND DAVID ARE AT THE LONDON INSTITUTE YESYESYESYES
He rather liked that part in a story – when the hero fell, and everything seemed bleak. It always meant that hope was just around the corner. Because darkness never lasted. It was always followed by light. There was nothing more beautiful than that kind of sunrise.
THIS
I literally live my life by this analogy
AHHH DAVID IS ON HIS TRAVEL YEAR AND MAX IS WITH HIM
SCREAM
well i can't scream because my mom is sitting right there and I have class in 4 minutes so imma smile really wide
“Are you planning to read the entire library during your travel year?” Max chuckled.
“Of course not,” David replied. “I will need longer than a year to accomplish that goal.”
Me.
Wait
does max not being able to make portals have something to do with his lineage?
like
demon parent
ok so my programming class started 2 minutes early but screw programming I'm gonna be studying minds not this shit
ok that's a very bad attitude for someone who needs good grades in this year
Max was always hungry.
this is so me
KIT
KIT
KIT
KIT
KIT
KIT
TY
THEY MENTIONED TY
also if David doesn't become an institute head in the future THEN WHAT'S THE POINT
“Where is the kitchen?” Max interrupted.
max is such a mood
He had told Max that he had centuries to perfect his magic, that there was no need to rush it. Max had given him a noncommittal nod and nothing more.
HE'S GONNA MAKE THE BEST PORTALS YOU'LL SEE
“I won’t tell the Consul,” Kit winked.
At the mention of the Consul, David straightened up. He had been trying to get into Alec Lightwood’s good graces for years now. He didn’t think sharing a room with his son would do him any favors.
DAVID UDUCDFUHKDUHVUHSDH
PLEASE IF WE DON'T GET A CUTE ALEC AND DAVID SCENE SOON
KIT CALLED TESSA MOM
oh my god
Word was that Mr. Herondale had gone back to his obsession with brewing tea.
JACE
I have so many emotions right now but all I'm gonna say is that I'm so so proud of Rafael
“Do you not want to sleep with me?” Max asked.
UH-
WELL-
DAVID STOP THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE AND ALL THE SHIT
STOP IT
OH MY GOD THE ONE BED TROPE
MAX IS IN HIS ARMS I'M ABOUT TO-
takes a deep breath don't scream. everyone outside this door thinks you're taking programming class
OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY
AWW JULIAN PAINTED PORTRAITS FOR THE INSTITUTE
The one of Will Herondale and Tessa Gray – A love that had transcended reality and lasted a lifetime.
The one of James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs – A love that had started with a lie and then blossomed into nothing but happiness and devotion.
The one of Lucie Herondale and Jesse Blackthorn – A love that had been so powerful that it rewrote the past.
The one of Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild – A love that had walked through hell and shaken up the heavens.
And then there the final one. The one of Kit Herondale and Tiberius Blackthorn – A love that had survived distance and darkness and doom.
This omg...
He wanted a love story. The kind he read in the books. The kind he saw in these portraits.
But he wasn’t a Herondale. He wasn’t sure if he was destined for that kind of love.
HEY
DON'T THINK LIKE THAT
The first part though
same
He might have been a little too excited. It was biologically impossible to control yourself when you find a stranger reading your favorite book in the whole world.
SO TRUE
“I see you already made a new friend,” Max said.
He sounded a little…odd. As if he was not pleased that David had made a new friend.
honey...
take a guess
can I jump in and bash their heads together?
“You are thinking of conjuring chocolate syrup, aren’t you?” David chuckled.
“How do you always know what’s on my mind?” Max chuckled back.
Because I know you, David wanted to say. I just wish I knew what’s in your heart too.
OH MY GOD I CANT WITH THIS
“You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup!” Max was yelling, standing on the chair.
They residents laughed harder, and David shook his head fondly. He hoped one day Max would pursue a career in theatre. He was a born showman.
can I have chocolate syrup?
also, the way David is just so fond of him like DYUSDGYJCDYUJM
“By the angel, do you have to be a drama queen about everything?” the boy next to them muttered – not so quietly.
David blinked. That was uncalled for.
But Max being Max was completely unfazed. “Of course I do. My Bapa would be personally offended otherwise.”
exactly you rude little shit
Max often pretended like people’s words didn’t hurt him - just as he pretend that fire doesn’t burn or wounds don’t bleed.
wow ok stop calling me out
Is max jealous??????
is he??????
how are people so good at languages like damn
TY
TY
TY
TY
“Oh my god,” Max groaned. “Is he already telling people to check on me?”
LMAO
using mundane medicine...
that's risky
but it's also something that WILL help
can't warlocks tamper with the blood samples?
A part of him wondered if that’s why he had agreed to send Max away to London – at least for a week. Because sometimes you didn’t want other people to see you were hurting.
alec I really goddamn hope you're dealing with this well
some of whom had even decided to die than get help from a warlock.
alright then gets my knives but you chose this :D
Nobody brought a book down for breakfast if they didn't like to read.
yes but sometimes also to seem busy so people won't bother you or you won't look alone.
“I know,” the boy said as he walked past them to the gate. “I sat on the stairs and thought about life for a few good minutes.”
his family is the one who took over David's previous institute (i can't spell that. marse- marselli- wat??) methinks.
The gang always visited whenever all of them were in the city together. They would have so much fun! Of course, the 'fun' mostly entailed Rafael stopping Georgia from drinking random potions she found in the stalls, Selena stopping Lexi from opening a psychic booth to help people talk to Raziel and of course David stopping Max from running to the gambling booths.
LMAO, I CANT WITH THIS-
Rafe: I am anxiety.
me at any given moment
EW TESTICLES HE'S EATING THOSE-
ok maybe I'm the only person who's really picky when it comes to food and doesn't eat the majority of things
“Anything on Magnus Bane?” Max asked.
“No,” the woman snapped and shoved some of the letters into a bag and hide it under the table. “Leave Magnus Bane alone!”
“Appreciate your loyalty,” Max winked at her and started examining a diary.
I like her.
"Everyone should be participating in this" -my programming teacher
me, an intellectual: participating in what?? goes to the class web THE FUCK IS THAT
“Something for the shadowhunter?” the woman smiled. “Perhaps an unpublished snippet from the Beautiful Cordelia?”
“Do you have any love letters?” David asked.
“Hmmm,” the woman went through the pages. “I do have a correspondence between an Iblis demon and Christopher Lightwood? Would you be interested in that?”
if u don't mind I would love to see both of those-
you know I just remembered I have a computer assignment I need to submit by the end of this week fml
“Never fall in love with an immortal,” she giggled again. “We don’t like staying in one place.”
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
MAX WHERE ARE YOU
why are we using x and 3 in programming class what the heck is going on
“I’m not just some warlock,” Max said, his voice low. “I’m Magnus Bane’s son.”
GIVE HIM THAT NECKLACE BACK
we usually have programming once a week on our physical school days and those are fun because my and my friend are continuously passing notes and talking to each other through writing
The scene where Max fought off all the evil people who tried to steal his valuable belonging. He would fight without breaking a sweat and throw magic fireballs at everyone and then get his necklace back. And then he would kiss David in front of everyone and it would somehow rain all of a sudden.
But life wasn’t a movie or a book. Life was just life.
life's boring
fuck life
I just heard a student ask "why are we not taking out the values of b and c" BESTIE I THOUGHT WE WERE DOING PROGRAMMING AND NOT ALGEBRA?????
“I know there wasn’t anyone to protect you before,” Magnus Bane had said. “But we are here now. We will protect you. This will protect you.”
He hadn’t wanted it back then. He didn't even want it even now.
He didn’t want something to protect him. Most importantly, he didn’t want to cover his scar. He didn’t want to hide it. He wasn’t ashamed of it. It wasn’t a mark of a victim. It was the mark of a survivor.
So, David had smiled and given the bracelet back.
“I never wanted to be protected,” David had replied. “I only ever wanted to be loved.”
The warlock had smiled at that and given David a hug. It had felt different than other hugs he had experienced since he had come to New York.
It wasn’t just the magic. Magnus Bane carried so much love inside himself you could literally feel it through him.
I'm gonna cry during my programming class (where we're doing variables apparently all of a sudden??)
this is so beautiful
“I wasn’t talking about Bapa,” Max said now. “I was talking about the other one.”
David chuckled at that. “Oh, yeah. He is definitely going to kill you.”
what flowers would you like at your funeral?
so Jackson has family troubles
I've definitely got that
yeah I know what it's like to be jealous of someone else's perfect family
JACKSON WTF
Is he trying to ruin max's relationship with his family???
oh hell no
JACKSON THE AUDACITY
“One stolen necklace, One broken nose and One bruised cheek,” he said. “And you’ve been in London for less than a day.”
kit seriously? but is he wrong though?
“This is what I get for falling for a Lightwood-Bane,” David sighed and walked through the portal.
WELL AT LEAST HE'S SELF AWARE
Jackson...
in some ways, I can empathize with him. my younger self anyway. but Jackson this is not how you do things
There was a moment of silence and then Magnus Bane giggled.
“I do love it when the quiet ones go feral,” the warlock grinned.
MAGNUS
NOT.THE.TIME
(me too)
“David!” Mr Herondale gasped. “Is your hand okay?”
yup that's Jace y'all
David hated violence. He hated fighting – which he was often not allowed to say out loud considering he was a shadowhunter.
But it was the truth. He hated hurting people – or even things. It made him feel sick.
“It’s alright, Chouchou,” Mr Herondale ran a hand through David’s hair. “Next time, just-”
“Use my words?” David asked.
“Just don’t get caught,” the man winked.
and that is why I would never want to be a shadowhunter.
I know saying that doesn't do anything but when I first read tsc I wanted to be a shadowhunter really badly and damn that was some time ago but now...violence of any kind is my biggest trigger idek why. and I hate that so much because what kind of a person gets triggered by loud voices and fighting EVEN ON SCREEN??? I usually just push myself to watch stuff because it's dumb. I refuse to see trigger warnings before reading a book or watching a show because damn it, I should be able to stand those things I'm, not a child. and it may be doing me more harm than good but I shouldn't feel like this in the first place
okay...that was long
ANYWAY
“David, I appreciate you standing up for Max,” the Consul said. “But next time, please try not to punch anyone in the face.”
“Yes, sir,” David nodded. “Because it’s wrong.”
“Because it means more paperwork for me,” the Consul groaned and then straightened up. “But yes. Absolutely. Very wrong. No punching people!”
LMAO ALEC
Jackson...
oh
oh
oh
I was wrong then
He was grinning. Magnus Bane must have raised hell in the shadow market.
that must have been fun
Max was doing that thing where he was not trying to pout but he was mostly definitely pouting. It made David want to kiss him. But then the Consul spoke, and David reminded himself he didn’t want to be the third person to get punched in the face this evening.
well-
“I understand that Jackson has been through a lot. But that’s not an excuse for him to hurt those around him. I learned that lesson the hard way. So, you shouldn’t excuse his behaviour.”
someone's trauma and pain is never an excuse to hurt others
but that doesn't mean we should invalidate their trauma either
“You can stay back and try to help him. I won’t stop you,” the man got up now. “But if he tries to hurt you-”
���You will unleash hell?” David chuckled.
“Worse,” the other man grinned. “I will unleash Lexi.”
that is much much worse
Books brought him comfort in so many ways. Just holding one in his hands automatically made him feel better.
oh my god
he gets it
I always have a book with me when I'm out even if I'm not gonna get the time to read it because just the weight and comfort of it in my hands or in my backpack brings me so much comfort and helps with my social anxiety so much
no one understands when I try to tell them that
you get it...
someone gets it finally
AYYY IRENE
“David, it’s very sweet that you want to protect Jackson,” Kit pointed out. “But literally no one is buying that. Not even Irene.”
The lynx purred on his lap as if she agreed with Kit.
“I could break into a liquor cabinet,” David said a little indignantly.
David is the nicest you can get
David wouldn’t. Apparently, everyone already seemed to know that - even the lynx he had met five minutes ago.
we are solving something in class and it's really quiet because we're all doing our work (I'm reading the fic so-) and this one person had their mic open and they kept on whispering their steps and it was so weird I cant-
BUT YES DAVID IS A CINNAMON ROLL. EVEN THE LYNX KNOWS
“We were talking about shitty fathers,” Jackson pointed out. “You’re welcome to stay.”
“I’m gonna need something stronger than red wine for this conversation,” Kit chuckled.
I remember that bitch
David used to do it when he was a child. He used to pretend his life was a story. He used to pretend everything that happened to him was happening to some other boy – a boy who wasn’t real. A boy who lived inside a book. Because it hurt a little less when you pretend like it wasn’t happening to you.
But the pain was still very real.
OK YOU CAN STOP CALLING ME OUT NOW
“I fucking hate ogres,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Was your father an ogre too?” Jackson asked.
“He was more like a harpy,” Kit snorted. “He was always flying and fleeing. I didn’t know how deep his talons were in my head until it was too late.”
you really like traumatizing all your characters, don't you?
I really fucking hope the ogre got what he deserved
and if the angel is dead then fuck everyone
“I mean, there was that time when Sebastian Morgenstern turned my father into the endarkened, and then he went around killing people. So, I would say he was more like a zombie,” the man was explaining now. “The zombie father tried to kill me but my brother killed him first.”
“Good lord!” Jackson said in shock.
Kit chuckled softly. “Boy do shadowhunters need therapy.”
they really do
He knew about those from New York. He knew Mr Herondale and Miss Fairchild went for one together.
YES GET THEM THERAPY
“Yikes,” Kit chuckled. “I’d prefer something classier. How about London Boys?”
“None of us are from London though,” Tiberius pointed out.
“The Beatles are not actually beetles, Ty,” Kit chuckled. “It’s just for pizazz.”
damn guys
Then the idea of a band turned into a possible YouTube channel where they would react to cute animal videos.
YS DO IT
“When people do awful things, really awful things, at one point we stop being surprised. Like what Valentine did to his children or what our fathers did to us or what those women did to Rafael. We might have been shocked or disgusted. But it wasn’t unrealistic, was it?”
“I guess not,” the boy said.
“Even when they did the most unimaginable acts of cruelty, it somehow managed to fit into our imagination. We accepted that the world can be unrealistically cruel. The kind of cruelty we will never understand. But why isn’t it the same for kindness? Why is that when someone is too kind, we automatically feel uncomfortable? We judge their intensions or think they are just pretending to be nice. We think they are being unrealistic. Why is that?”
we get so used to cruelty that kindness feels weird
“But that’s how our life works, doesn’t it? It’s a giant ball of what ifs and could have beens and if nots. What if my father had loved me instead of hurt me? Could I have been kinder if I was hugged instead of being abused? Would have I been a different person if not for my trauma? Our lives are an endless collection of theories about our real selves. The one didn’t we never had the chance to become.”
THIS
I used to spend a bunch of time on the what-ifs but those are useless. so screw the what-ifs and live in the present
“I guess we’ll never know, Jackson. None of us will never know how we would have turned out if things had been different for us. We never got the chance to be who were meant to be. Instead, we became who we had to become to survive what we went through. We will never know our true selves. We only know the version of us that made it through all the trauma.”
“Christ, that’s depressing,” Jackson said.
“It is,” David nodded. “But we made it through. We survived. I think we should focus on that.”
you survived. that's what matters
“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be rescued,” David smiled.
I wish I had heard this before...
maybe I don't always have to be strong. maybe it's ok sometimes just want to be saved.
I'm so happy that both Jackson and David found each other
David had learned Gaelic. Jackson had learned how to play the piano.
They had laughed and lived and loved and learned.
And they had survived – one day at a time. The London Boys.
they survived.
I know I'm always key smashing and screaming but these words, these lines, all these chapters mean so so much to me.
“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” David asked, hugging Jackson closely.
“No,” Jackson replied. “I will FaceTime you like a normal person, you weirdo!”
David laughed at that. “I prefer letters. They are more emotional.”
“I’ll text you,” Jackson countered. “With emojis.”
oh to have someone write me letters.
I love writing letters
once at the end of a school year, I wrote little letters to everyone in my class anonymously. even the people who had been mean to me. that was like 1-2 years after my transfer to that school and everyone practically hated me but I wanted to do something nice because who knows what someone is going through. I ended up not putting them in people's desks...
I threw them all away :)
but writing letters is superior
I often write my feelings down and give the letter to someone rather than talk to someone
if you receive a letter from me or a custom-made gift...you have reached my ultimate friendship
oh my god. THIS IS HOW I SHOULD TALK TO ONE OF MY FRIENDS ABOUT MY FEELINGS
It's kind of been a mess between us and I want to talk to her but I didn't know how to.
this is why i shouldn't send asks-
JACKSON CATCHING UP ON MAX AND DAVID
“You know what it means,” Jackson grinned harder. “Also, if that wanker tries to break your heart, I will break his face.”
“You know he is the Consul’s son?” David giggled.
“I’ve done it once and I will do it again,” Jackson shrugged. “He better treat you right.”
"wanker"
I HAVE A BRITISH ONLINE FRIEND AND THEY CALLED OUR AMERICAN ONLINE FRIEND A WANKER
AND OUR OTHER BRITISH FRIEND JOINED IN
WHILE ALL THE NON-BRITISH PEOPLE WERE LIKE "huh"
Lexi had cut her hair even shorter. Her girlfriend apparently got something called an undercut.
“Just in case someone dared to assume we were straight,” she had winked at him.
how many years has this fake dating been going on...
CENTURION SELENA
fterA the twins went to bed, David stepped out of the institute and went looking for his heart.
"went looking for his heart"
OH FUCK I FORGOT TO JOIN MY CLASS
MAX STOP DEPLETING YOUR SELF GODDAMN
And then somewhere along the way, Max’s heartbeat had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.
Max, with all his chaos and drama and danger, had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.
oh my god that's a parallel from canon
“Tell me why.”
“Ain't nothing but a heart break!!"
Max-
Max could make fireballs that killed demons on the spot. He could summon things from anywhere. He could heal people with his eyes closed. He was one of the youngest warlocks allowed to visit the spiral labyrinth.
Max was a warlock in every sense. A good one. A great one even.
he is so talented...
Only idiots would underestimate Magnus Bane’s power.
EXACTLY
He is probably going to be Consul like next week.”
David chuckled. “Next week?”
next week????
“Yeah, his smoking habits,” Max rolled his eyes.
Rafael wasn’t the smoker in the family. He knew who it was, but David would never open his mouth. It wasn’t his secret to tell.
this keeps on getting better
“It’s my hair!” David laughed.
“And you’re my David!” Max argued. “I say you are not allowed to grow your hair.”
MY DAVID
MY DAVID
MY DAVID
“I don’t want to downworld-splain it to you.”
Max blinked and then laughed. “You don’t want to what?”
“Downworld-splain,” David mumbled. “It’s when shadowhunters explain downworlders how to be downworlders.”
they were SO close to kissing
I'm gonna get in there and lock them in a closet together and tell them to FUCKING GET WITH IT
Remember who you are. Remember where you stand.
remember who you are. remember where you stand...
I know this is supposed to be about portals.
OH MY GOD THEY KISSED
THEY KISSED
IM SO CLOSE TO SCREAMING CLASS AND EVERYONE OUTSIDE THIS ROOM BE DAMNED
OH MY GOD DAVID FELL
reminds me of when alec fell down the stairs-
OH MY GOD I'M GONNA SCREAM
WE'RE GONNA GET MORE MAVID CONTENT SOON I'M SCREAMING INTERNALLY UYDRVFY7VSDU7UYVFSDUYGCADUYIGJCDSHJKGDVCSUGISDVHVF
ok, I have a computer assignment to get to and tests to study for. BUT I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO MUCH!! THEY FINALLY KISSED I'M SO HAPPY!!!!!
Also I know I tend to go off track and you can totally ignore that. i just go crazy. BYEE
This live blog gives me so much life you don't even know. I am go glad you enjoyed the chapter. I love hearing you rant about it. It's refreshing lol.
And I looooooove the lil anecdotes you share in between. Also wtf is a programming class like nobody wants to learn programme what kind of hetero nonsense I-
FINISH YOUR ASSIGNMENTS AND STUDY FOR YOUR TESTS I'LL SEE YOU SOON :)
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the-cult-of-russo · 4 years ago
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Push and Pull (Part 10)
Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC
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Warnings: cursing, mentions of trauma
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A week passed by in no time and most of it was spent in bed for Daphne as she recovered. Her wounds and bruises were healing nicely and she could walk without feeling like she was about to keel over. She needed the rest though with the amount of blood she lost. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Matt or his alter ego but Foggy stopped by every day to bring her food for dinner. Surprisingly, she wasn't sick of him yet and he insisted it was all part of the friendship package. She appreciated it since she hadn't felt up to cooking. It was all home cooked stuff and she had no idea if he'd cooked it himself or someone else had. Either way it was good. He'd come over and hang out with her while they ate and just make idle conversation. But as the week wore on she was getting increasingly stressed about the fact that Mr Lee's son hadn't been caught yet. Foggy had commented on her waning patience but she couldn't help it. 
She was lounging in bed in a pair of yoga pants and the t-shirt Matt had loaned her. She didn't know why it was so soft but she liked it and he hadn't asked for it back. As far as she was concerned, it now belonged to her. She was getting restless. Between the maniac not being caught and her being cooped up to recover, she'd gotten bored. She couldn't wait to go back out and do something. She hadn't told Foggy about her nightmares about the attack. She had them every night and she wasn't getting much sleep. She had too much pride to admit how much the ordeal had shaken her. Seeing a dead body and being brutally attacked like that had done a number on her confidence. She couldn't get the images of Mr Lee's lifeless body out of her mind or forget how it felt when her air supply was being cut off. She'd often wake gasping for breath and unable to breathe. She hoped it would ease in time. 
Her phone rang from the nightstand and she groaned, rolling over to get it. Glancing at the screen she saw it was Brett. He’d called her every day and it was always that same; 'Sorry, D, nothing today. We'll keep trying.' She appreciated it and Brett seemed dead set on nailing the bastard. But he had somehow just vanished into thin air and she hated it.
"Hey," she sighed into the phone.
"Got some good news," she could practically hear his grin and she sat up quickly. She winced at the pinching feeling of her stitches but it didn't hurt too much. She was glad her body was starting to heal.
"Please tell me you got him," she pleaded hopefully. 
"Not us. Asshole is currently comatose in hospital. Daredevil found him. Really got him good too. I know you worked with him a bit, you must've left quite the impression on him. If this little prick is anything to go by, the Devil was pissed," he chuckled. 
She blinked dumbly for a moment as his words soaked in. Matt had found him. And beat him into a coma. Her brain wasn't quite comprehending it. Why would he go out of his way like that? Then again, the guy was crazy and a danger and most definitely a criminal. Of course the Devil of Hell's Kitchen would hand his ass to him.
"I'm glad, got what he deserved," she bit out. She really hoped he'd suffered.
"Damn right. Next time you see your horned friend, make sure you thank him for his hard work," he laughed. She snorted wondering how he had no idea how he interacted with the Devil almost on a daily basis. 
"I will. What happens now?" She asked, nibbling her lower lip.
"He's got guards here for when he wakes up. When he does, we book him. We got stacks of evidence against him and Mr Lee's wife folded too. She's going to testify for a reduced sentence for her part in all of this… you did good, D. Without your help this might not have been solved," he said sincerely. 
She sighed, leaning back against her pillows.
"Yeah, maybe," she murmured. She knew there was some truth to his words. Just like Matt said, this would have happened no matter what. No matter if she'd warned Mr Lee or even if she'd never met him at all. She knew she helped get him justice. Yet she still felt that guilt burrowing in her mind.
"Alright. I gotta go, but I'll keep you posted if anything happens," he said.
"Thanks, Brett," she smiled softly. She felt a huge relief that he'd been caught now. He'd finally get punished for what he did. Part of her wished that the nightmares would end now. 
"Hey, don't thank me. Thank your boy, Daredevil," he chuckled. 
"Yeah, yeah. I will," she rolled her eyes goodnaturedly before hanging up. 
Part of her wanted to see Mr Lee's son. See the damage Matt had done. Maybe it was sadistic of her but she couldn't help it after what he'd put her through. She wondered how it went down. Did Matt look for him or was it by chance? And why did Brett seem so shocked by how badly he'd beaten the maniac? Brett saw plenty of the thugs Matt dealt with but he acted like this was worse. 
Glancing to her large window, she saw the moon filtering in a little. She pushed herself off the bed, sitting on the window ledge as she opened it slightly. 
"You around?" She asked seemingly to no one. She was curious if he'd hear her. She had no idea what range his hearing was or if he was even out and about right now. For all she knew he was fast asleep in bed. But she should have known better. Of course there was no rest for the wicked. Or the righteous in his case. He jumped down and landed on her fire escape with such grace it almost shocked her.
"In the neighbourhood," he smirked. He seemed a lot more himself than the solemn gentleness he'd shown her when she was injured. Part of her missed it, the other part was grateful so it wasn't weird.
"Heard you found Mr Lee's son. Nice work," she flashed him a toothy grin. She'd be a liar if she said she didn't feel heaps better now. Knowing he was caught, that Matt had given him a taste of his own medicine first. It made her perk up. He chuckled, crossing his arms as he leant back on the railings.
"I did. I think he'll be eating out of a straw for a while," he quipped. 
"Brett seemed to think you were angrier than usual this time. I didn't even think that was possible," she said, leaning against the window a little. 
He chuckled, lowering his head before licking his lower lip.
"Yeah well… I found it hard to hold back," he admitted. She wanted to press on but decided against it. Better not to look into it and go on like normal. Acquaintances at best. Not friends that look out for each other. 
"Foggy's been keeping me company everyday. Been bringing me food.  I didn't know he could cook so well," making small talk with him felt weird but she'd thanked him and now she didn't know how to end the conversation without being completely rude. She owed him that at least for taking care of the asshole who attacked her.
"Foggy can't cook worth shit," he snorted, looking off at the distance. 
"Who’s food have I been eating then?" She asked bewildered.
"Mine," be smirked devilishly at her. It suited him in that moment as his suit was bathed in moonlight. 
She blinked for a moment as his words soaked in. Her first thought was how she was impressed he could cook so well without sight. But then she remembered who he was and it paled in comparison to the other shit he could do. Then she was just confused why he'd been cooking for her. She opened her mouth to ask him but he stood up straighter, head tilted as he did the weird listening thing again.
"Gotta go," he flashed her another smirk and with that he was off. She wondered if the more cocky side of his personality was tied to the suit or if it was just him. She settled on figuring he'd been cooking for him and Foggy anyway so she got some too. It was best not to touch anything that meant he was looking out for her. It was weird. 
 She closed the window and padded back to her bed, getting under the covers with a sigh. Her life had changed quite a bit since meeting the lawyers even if she hadn't known them long. Foggy was actually a breath of fresh air for her. He was always so optimistic but also wouldn't hold back if it was needed. He genuinely was a good friend and the first real friend she'd ever had. Matt on the other had confused her. He was either rude, cocky and snarky, granted most of the time it was in response to her own bitchiness, or he was gentle, protective, and saving her ass. The unpredictability was what bothered her. Never knowing what was going on in his head. She remembered what Foggy said about them clashing because they were alike. Unpredictable was a word used many times to describe her. Maybe her issue with the vigilante was because it was like looking into a mirror. The thought jarred her. 
When he was nice, she found she enjoyed his company. And she couldn't say he didn't intrigue her. He really did. Everything from his lack of sight to his extra curricular activities had her curious. But being around him always left her head spinning and her back up. She blew out a breath, deciding she was thinking far too much about Matt and it needed to stop. Once this whole him avenging her bullshit eased off maybe he'd just not drop by anymore. Maybe it would go back to normal. 
The next day she spent most of the day getting her PI stuff ready. Checking and double checking her backpack and testing her camera. She was buzzing with excitement that she was going to investigate. She hadn't since the attack. She’d barely left the house. She felt good about jumping right back into it. It was the surveillance job for the Italian Brett had assigned her before everything went down. She needed to scout him out, see where he went and who with. It was simple and easy, well if it went according to plan. So she was feeling more cheerful than she had in a while. 
As usual, she liked to wait until it was going dark before she went out. She'd dressed in her dark clothes, a pullover hoodie, jeans and her boots. The boots that she'd had to scrub clean in the bath after they got blood all over them. She couldn't exactly afford more. Her hair was in two French braids so she could easily pull her hood up to conceal her face when needed. Her backpack was on the coffee table along with her camera and she couldn't help checking if the memory card worked every five minutes. A knock on her door made her eyes widen. Fuck, Foggy. She'd forgotten to even let him know she'd be going out and he'd be bringing her dinner as usual. Maybe he'd understand she had things to do. 
She swung open the door and Foggy gave her a toothy grin, holding up the bag that she now knew held Matts home cooked food. She was still perplexed by the notion but pushed it out of her mind. When Foggy saw her clothes, his eyes darted over her shoulder to her backpack and camera on the coffee table.
"Oh… you're off out?" He asked, trying to hide his disappointment and failing. She felt a pang in her chest.
"Yeah. Gotta get back on the horse sometime," she nodded feeling more than awkward. Foggy pursed his lips before forcing a smile as he nodded at her.
"Yeah… that's… good. I'll uh… I can just…" he backed up a few steps to leave and the pang of guilt got bigger. Damn it all to hell, this is why she didn't do friends. 
He looked so disappointed and if she was honest with herself she knew she'd miss their usual friendly dinner herself. She'd been enjoying the companionship and she'd started to get used to not being so alone. Only Foggy Nelson could put a chip in her thick armour. 
"Foggy, wait… it's fine. I could use some dinner before I head out," she smiled softly at him. Almost hesitant at this weird and new situation she found herself in. He looked surprised for a moment before a grin split his face. It was still weird to her that he wanted to be around her. Wanted to be her friend. 
"Awesome! It's lasagna today, it's so good," he beamed as he came inside. 
He navigated her kitchen with ease as he plated their food up for them both. That was the routine and it was always weird to watch him in her kitchen like he lived there but she surprisingly never minded it. He came into the living room, passing her a plate where she sat on the couch and he took his usual spot in the armchair. He started munching with gusto and she pushed some of the food around with her fork for a moment as she glanced at him. Never once had he mentioned Matt when he came here and he'd always made it seem like he himself had cooked the food. He'd never outright said it, no doubt since it would be a bare faced lie. But he'd implied it. 
"Matt dropped in last night," she murmured casually, popping a forkful of lasagna into her mouth. Matt was a dick but the man could cook. It was amazing.
"Oh, yeah. He told me, about the whole crazy dick turned coma patient,” he snorted as he scarfed his food down.
"Mhm… he's a great cook, don't you think?" She asked slyly. Foggy started choking on his mouthful of food and she couldn't even suppress the smirk that worked its way into her face. 
"I don't know what you're talking about," Foggy struggled with the food that seemed lodged in his throat.
"He told me, Foggy. I complimented your cooking skills and he told me you can't cook worth shit. He decided to let me know he'd been the one cooking before he slipped off into the night like a goddamn movie villain," she snorted. 
"Fine! You got me, the jig is up!" He proclaimed, rather dramatically too if she had to say so. It made her laugh.
"Is there a reason you lied?" She asked with an amused look on her face. He squinted and pointed his fork at her.
"I didn't lie. I never once said I made it. I may have misled you but at no time did I lie," he pressed. Such a lawyer. She rolled her eyes at him with a snort.
"Honestly … me and Matt didn't think you'd eat it if you knew, so I decided to just… not tell you," he shrugged. His throat seemed to be faring better now as he started eating again.
"You really think I'm that petty?" She scoffed. He raised a brow at her before they both burst out laughing. They both knew she was.
"How are you holding up anyway? Feel better now that asshole's been caught?" Foggy asked once they calmed down.
"Yeah. I was starting to give up honestly. It's nice to know he's gonna get what's coming to him. Well… he already kinda has," she smirked as she remembered what Brett said.
"Tell me about it. I was with Brett when he got a call about Keiran at the hospital. I went with him and just… wow," he muttered as he shook his head.
"How bad was he?" She asked curiously. She couldn't even contain the happiness from her voice and he shot her a look. Asshole deserved it though.
"Really bad. I've seen some of the people after Matt’s done with them, but this guy. Ouch. The thing is though… I didn't even feel bad for him. Knowing what he did, seeing what he did to you… I'm not surprised Matt went hard at him," he said carefully. 
"I'm honestly surprised. I mean, sure Daredevil catches bad guys and kinda kicks their ass. And I've heard some wild stories about him. But the dude’s in a coma and Brett wasn't sure when he'd wake up. Didn't think Matt would care so much about Mr Lee. He didn't even know him," she murmured, standing up with her now empty plate. She took Foggy's too and padded into the kitchen. It was getting late now and she still had to go out and investigate. 
"Matt cares about everyone in this city, whether he's met them or not. And he also really really cares about his friends. He doesn't take too kindly to people attacking them," he responded pointedly from where he sat. 
She pursed her lips, plonking the dishes in the sink before turning around. She leant back on the counter and tilted her head at him.
"Bold of you to assume me and Matt are friends," she teased. Foggy just squinted at her as he stood up.
"Well whatever you are, he didn't like that asshole laying his hands on you. Or his knife. So…" he shrugged. She wanted to make a comment. Something about how she didn't need Matt’s protection and they really weren't friends. Acquaintances at most and even that was pushing it. But deep down she knew that Keiran wouldn't have been caught if it wasn't for Daredevil and she tried to push her snark away 
"I really need to head out before it's too late," she sighed, glancing to the darkening sky. Foggy sighed with a nod.
"Anything exciting? Nothing dangerous I hope," he frowned. When Foggy seemed to care she didn't mind it. 
"Just surveillance. It's on the Italian that the other one ratted out. He's not a major player but he might lead the cops to one. Brett's given me strict instructions to keep my distance and just observe," she explained, grabbing her backpack. She slung it over her shoulders and then put her camera around her neck.
"Okay… good. That sounds not too life threatening. It means I won't lose sleep," he grinned. She flipped him off with a roll of her eyes. He reminded her of her sister a bit, the way he fussed over her. Maybe that's why she liked him so much.
They left the apartment together and when they got outside they would be going opposite ways.
"Alright. Stay safe, make sure you listen to Brett about keeping your distance. If you need help… well just scream, I'm sure Matt will hear you," he chuckled. 
"Yes, mom," she smirked. He blanched before pouting at her. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he gave her a quick hug. That was another new thing she had to adjust to. He always left with a hug. They were always brief and she wondered if it was because he knew this was new to her and she needed to adjust. Either way she found she liked it. 
"I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled at her. She gave him a mock salute, making him chuckle before she started walking down the street.
Hours went by as she followed Mr Antonio Ricci. He was a big looking dude but he was wearing an expensive looking suit. He'd just been walking through town, visiting shops here and there as he went before closing time. She was following from the other side of the street, her hood pulled up as she discreetly took pictures of every store he went in. She was itching to go in and see just what he was doing. He never came out with anything so he certainly wasn't buying. But she knew she had to keep her distance. She took her job seriously and also her body wasn't 100% yet. She was mostly okay but she didn't feel like getting jumped would be a good idea. Even the thought of it made her stomach clench. She was still dealing with the mental after effects of her last attack. 
After a while, he seemed to meet up with a pretty brunette. She was dressed in a gold dress that wrapped around her like it was liquid. She was breathtaking honestly and Daphne made sure to snap some pictures of her not knowing if she was important or not. She ended up following them as they took a stroll. They were laughing and holding hands, stopping every now and again to kiss. It was sickening. They ended up going inside a restaurant and she pouted knowing she couldn't go in. Not only would that mean possibly blowing her cover, but she wouldn't even be allowed in a fancy place like that with how she was dressed. So now she was across the street, lurking in the mouth of an alley as she waited bored for them to come back out. She had no idea when they'd be done.
"You look like you're working hard," she whipped around at the quip, rolling her eyes as Daredevil was perched on the dumpster. He hopped down like a graceful cat before sauntering closer to her. 
"Just waiting for my mark to leave," she sighed, sounding as bored as she felt, gesturing with her head to the restaurant across the street. He seemed like he looked over at it despite having no point to.
"What are you doing here anyway?" She asked briskly. 
"I was around. Thought I'd check you weren't in danger," he snarked, causing her eyes to narrow to slits.
"Hm.. funny how you keep being 'around'. Anyone would think you're following me," she bit out, turning her back to him to keep an eye out for Antonio. 
"Please, you're not that special," he scoffed. 
She pursed her lips as she waited but she was getting agitated. It wasn't helped by Daredevil hovering around. She glanced back to him then and grinned as an idea formed in her mind. One that would help her and then she could go home and far away from him. 
"Meet me on that roof," she said, not waiting for an answer as she left the alley they were in and jogged across the street. She walked in the alley beside the restaurant and started climbing the fire escape, waiting as Matt made his stealthy way over. Before long, he'd jumped across to the building she was on and made his way over.
"What are we-" he started, irritation in his voice. She shushed him and it only seemed to make him more agitated, his fists clenching as his jaw ticked.
"Sit down," she demanded, sitting on the roof with her legs cross. He just started in her direction for a moment before a low growl left his lips, heavily sitting down in front of her.
"I've got better things to do than play whatever this game is with you," he huffed. 
"Maybe pulling that stick out of your ass should be number one on the list," she quipped dryly, shrugging off her backpack.
"Daphne," he warned, causing her to roll her eyes.
"Look, I just need your help for a sec and then you can get back on your white knight bullshit and I can go home. Chill," she huffed. She uncrossed one of her legs as she unzipped her pack and grabbed the pen and pad from inside.
"Fine, what do you want?" He bit out reluctantly. Her lips quirked up before glancing at him.
"We're on the roof of the restaurant. I need you to use your spidey senses, listen in for me," she requested. She could feel his glower through the mask and she smirked slyly.
"Anything in particular?" He asked tensely. He was always tense. Especially when he was in this suit. 
"The guy is Antonio. See if you can hone in on him and the girl he's with. Anything about what he's been doing today, about the Italians or even about her. I don't know who she is. Just whatever seems interesting," she said clicking her pen ready. She watched him intently as he tilted his head and she wondered what it was like being him. What it must be like to lose his sight but then have all his others senses heightened to this degree. She didn't know if it would be a blessing or a curse. Possibly both. She was patient, letting him sort through the many people in there until he found what they were looking for. 
"Her name is Bianca, they're on a date," he murmured, sounding far away and distracted. She suppressed the urge to throw a 'duh' at him about the date comment and instead scribbled her name. 
"He’s… he's being vague but it sounds like he's been collecting money from shop owners. He called it protection money," she jotted down Matt’s words and wondered what that meant. Protection from other gangs or their own.
"There's a meeting. Next Friday night. The Italians and the Chinese are meeting at the Yellow Lilly," he muttered. 
"Wow, this guy doesn't know what discrete means," she snorted quietly as she wrote it all down. She’d honestly expected nothing more than the girl's name but Antonio didn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut. Anyone could be listening in. 
She watched Matt as he started to look frustrated before he sighed, his head no longer tilted.
"It's uh… all I got," he sounded annoyed but more so at himself.
"Wow, super senses not what they used to be, huh?" She teased, stuffing her pad and pen back in her bag.
"Yeah well, it's kind of hard to focus with a concussion," he hissed. She blinked at him for a moment as his lips clamped shut, jaw ticking once more. Why did she feel a little bad about that? She hadn't even thought about the possibility of him being injured despite his nightly job. She sucked her lower lip a little before letting it pop back out of her teeth.
"This is fine anyway. More than I thought," she murmured, trying to be somewhat amicable about it. He lowered his head and nodded. 
She stood up and he followed suit, a silence hanging between them as it always did when they didn't know what to say. Whenever something presented itself that made them cease fire on their words, it seemed like they didn't know how to act around each other.
"Well… thanks for the help, Devilboy. I'm gonna head home and catch some z's," she said awkwardly as they stood at the edge near the fire escape. A shrill scream in the alley below them caught them both off guard.  They glanced over the wall of the roof to see an older woman clinging to her bag as some dude was trying to grab it. She wasn't surprised when Matt climbed his way down and started kicking his ass.
She wished she had popcorn for the show. It was impressive, especially from her vantage point. It didn't take long for Matt to knock out the thug but then the woman grabbed her purse and ran off. It struck her as a little rude and now he wouldn't even be able to call it in to the cops. If she was in the wind there was nothing they could do about the mugging. She watched with complete amusement as Matt picked up the unconscious man and tossed him in the dumpster. She snorted, wishing she would be there when he woke up.
Instead of using the stairs back up, Matt swung and climbed his way up with ease and she partly wondered if he just liked showing off. He was panting a little when he got back to her and leaned back to sit on the small ledge of the roof.
"Well that was rude," she commented amused.
"Really? It's only a dumpster, I didn't peg you as the kind of person who'd be upset by that," he scoffed. She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms.
"Not that. That was fucking hilarious. I'm on about the woman. No thank you, nothing. Just runs off like you didn't save her ass," she mused, glancing to where the woman had ran off. 
"Yeah well… it's a thankless job," he shrugged. He didn't sound bothered at all and she wondered if that's how it normally went. He had some patience, except with her it seemed. She’d honestly think of charging people if she was super powered and fighting crime.
"Thanks for the show, it's been fun. I'm gonna head out," she drawled, securing her backpack better before stepping onto the fire escape.
"I'll walk you back," he said instantly. She looked back at him, her face scrunched up slightly.
"I'll be fine. I'm not a damsel, remember? You go save some other poor saps, I don't need a bodyguard," she quipped hotly. His jaw did the tick thing again but he didn't say anything. She was glad he didn't argue or that he didn't follow her as she descended the stairs of the fire escape. 
She was pleased with the info she'd gotten, even if Matt had to help her to get it. She refused to acknowledge what Foggy had said about them possibly being a good team. She’d hand over what she knew to Brett and see what he wanted her to do next. She walked home in the darkness feeling satisfied she was back to being herself, unaware of the shadow following her from the rooftops and keeping a watchful eye. 
23 notes · View notes
ahopelessromantic · 4 years ago
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Stops Along the Road ➳ D. Morgan
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader
Wordcount: Roughly 4k
Warnings: None really, some cursing, a gun wound, mentions of pregnancy, Morgan and the reader are stupid
Summary: The road to finding your way to Morgan once and for all was a long one, but you’ve never enjoyed a ride more. (A/N: I’m so happy to finally be writing again! Criminal Minds is back on Amazon Prime and back is my inspiration baby! I know this is a bit different from my usual stuff, but I quite liked the format of the little insights into the life of reader and Derek. I hope you’ll enjoy!)
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The one with the flirting
“Okay, is it just me or was the captain heavily flirting with Morgan?” JJ grinned, leaning in closer to her colleagues so no one at the station would over her them. You were in the middle of packing up your stuff right by them, trying to listen in as inconspicuously as possible. „Oh god, please don’t bring it up.“ Emily laughed, sending a confused frown across JJ’s forehead. „Why that?“ „(Y/N) gets weirdly protective of Morgan when someone’s flirting with him. It���s almost like she wants to fight them every time.“ Spencer chimed in. It was just then that you realised you probably should have gone into hiding as soon as JJ had walked up to them with her ‘I have gossip’ face. „See?“ Emily grinned at her colleague, then at you. You wanted to disappear.
„Even Reid notices. You gritted your teeth. “I don’t want him to get hurt, so what? Derek is just as protective of me with guys. We look out for each other.” Emily looked like she wanted to continue poking around, but starting to feel defensive you snapped at her. “My friendship with Derek is not your business, okay? We are what we are, and no matter how weird it may seem to you, just accept it. We’re nothing to gossip about.” The bad conscience already kicked in while you made your dramatic exit, but you swallowed it down with a heavy sigh. Constantly working around the same people sometimes caused them to get a bit too close for comfort, and their eternal teasing about you and your best friend was starting to get on your nerves. The bond you and Derek shared couldn’t be described with words and certainly, wasn’t really comprehensible to people looking in from the outside, so you wished they could just take it as it was and let you two be. You had more important things on your mind than thinking about what your coworkers’ opinions on the relationship between you and your best friend, as much as you loved them. More important things like the next case that you had already been called in for, for example.
The one with the gun wound You knew that your job wasn’t easy. You knew it brought many dangers with it, and you knew that people were bound to wind up hurt at some point. But in all your worrying over your team, that was like family to you, you had never expected yourself to be the one getting injured at some point. But here you were, shot by an unsub that had been restrained by Prentiss mere moments after he had fired his gun at you. You were sitting on the floor, jaw hurting from clenching it too hard, Morgan kneeling next to you. His body exuded warmth you desperately needed, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have his soothing presence right there beside you. „Shh. Come on, keep on breathing.” He spoke calmly, but the way his hand was squeezing yours told you a whole different story. “It’s just a shot in the leg.” You rolled your eyes and groaned, trying your best to play it off. He looked at you with his dark eyes, a mix between a deadpan and a smile that only he was able to do. „Doesn’t matter, it‘s still gonna hurt and you don’t have to act all tough like it doesn’t, okay?“ You released the breath you had been holding in a cough, teeth still gritted. „I feel like once I acknowledge that it hurts I’m going to start screaming or cursing really bad. Possibly both.“ Your voice was fainter than you would have liked it to be. He gave your hand another squeeze. „Come on, let go. The paramedics will be here in no time and then they’ll dope you up on painkillers anyway. Will you unclench your teeth now before they shatter in your jaw, you stubborn woman?“ You half chuckled, half sobbed and then decided to hell with it. You relaxed your body and started taking deep breaths again, and with the breathing in came the pain. „Motherfucker!“ You yelled, an even worse string of curses escaping your lips right after. Derek just chuckled. „See, there you go. Just let it all out.“ You just glanced daggers at him. „You are so paying for the drinks next time we’re going out.“ He just chuckled. Sometimes you hated him.
The one with the wedding If someone were to ask you what you loved most about your best friend, you would probably tell them that he was easy. There was never any doubt with him, you didn’t have to question anything about him or your friendship. Morgan was your person and you were his. Period. Your support for each other was quiet, so quiet that other people sometimes forgot about just how deep your affection for each other ran. But his love was there when he placed you coffee order on your desk every morning without words, it was there when he gave you a birthday present you had once only shortly mentioned and then never spoken of again, it was there when you patched him up with your little to none medical knowledge after he had been too rough in kicking a door down once again. So it wasn’t really a surprise that he had been the one to find you hiding out in the gardens. You were sitting on a bench, feeling miserable in your little yellow dress. Normally you were a huge fan of weddings, a huge fan of love, but this one had set something off inside of you. Most of your friends from high school were long married already, your team members were tying the knot one by one, too, and here you still were, alone on a bench with no ring on your finger and no family to come home to. “Thought I’d find you out here.” Derek’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you were so grateful to see his stupid face that you almost started crying. It was as if that man had a sixth sense for your emotions, a talent for always being right where you needed him. “I’m… getting some fresh air.” You lied, knowing that he wasn’t going to be fooled by it. He sat down next to you, his eyes mustering you as if they were trying to decode your emotions. “I thought you loved weddings.” You chuckled and looked up at him through your lashes. “I do. It’s just… something about this one is bugging me. I feel awful for even letting my thoughts go there, but I just couldn’t help it tonight. You know, everyone in there is happy, with boyfriends and husbands and wives and a future to look forward to, and all I’ve got is my job and a car that my best friend likes to steal.” Derek chuckled, probably picturing himself in your beloved BMW convertible for a moment. A comfortable silence spread between the two of you, and it could have stayed that way. Just two friends sitting in a garden, enjoying the evening. But you felt the urge to talk more about this gnawing feeling in your chest, to get to know if he, at least, felt like that too. “Don’t you ever get worried? About the future? That you’ll end up alone and sad, with no one to grow old with?” He exhaled, looking happy that you had opened up yourself without him having to squeeze it out of you. For a moment he looked pensive, his gaze wandering off into the distance. You watched him closely, the strong eyebrows, the delicate face. It was a face you knew like no other, a face that had seen you in all your worst moments. “No.” He finally spoke up. “I’m not worried.” He said with an almost reverent honesty that took you off guard. “I honestly don’t know what will happen in the future. But I know that you’re in it, and nothing calms me more than knowing that. So no matter what happens, there will be you and I.“ You sighed and leaned against his shoulder, causing him to place his arm around you. Somehow, those few words had calmed you. You weren’t going to be alone, ever. “I love you, Derek.” You murmured into the night. He turned his head to press a kiss against your temple. “I love you too. Now come on, let’s break up this little pity party of yours and make use of the open bar. I mean, how often do we get free booze?” You felt a smile grow across your lips against your will. “Basically never. But you have to promise to dance with me.” Morgan got up from the bench and held out his hand to you. “Honey, if you give me two more glasses of champagne I’ll even dance the chicken dance for you.” You threw your head back and laughed, taking his hand. “Alright, idiot. Let’s go give them a show.”
The one where his mother gets involved „I love seeing you two together so much.“ You blushed and, in an attempt to hide it, continued chopping the vegetables. „Derek always seems so free without you, you know? So happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be like that with anyone else.“ You dared yourself to look at your best friend’s mom, not expecting the look on her face to be so serious. „He’s just my Derek.“ You chuckled awkwardly, not really seeing the big deal in his change of behaviour around you. You acted differently when it was just the two of you as well, but wasn’t that how people were when they let their guards down? The smallest of smiles snuck across Mrs Morgan‘s lips. „Exactly honey, your Derek. He’s yours.“ You felt yourself freeze, but as if she knew exactly what she was doing the small woman smacked you with one of her kitchen towels. „You know how desperate I am for grandchildren, I’ll take any chance I get! Can’t you at least maybe think about it?“ You laughed, maybe a little bit too loudly, and rolled your eyes. „Nice try, Mrs M. But I’ll tell you when I get there.“ Morgan couldn’t help the weird feeling in his chest upon overhearing the conversation between you and his mother. Above all, of course, was the air of familiarity with which you interacted. You were never just someone who tagged along with him, these days you belonged into his family home almost as much as he did. But then, the deeper undertones of his mother’s words gnawed away at his subconscious, as if they were trying to unlock something that wasn’t there yet. Your Derek. After years of playing the role of the tough guy, the man of the family, a victim hiding the fact that he was just that, you had somehow been the first person he had allowed himself to be soft again with. For some reason, he only realised it now, how easily you had snuck past his guards and made yourself at home way beyond them. The words of an ex-girlfriend came to his mind. „I’m tired of trying to drill through your walls, Derek. There’s always some part of you that’s hidden from me and I don’t deserve that.“ She had been right, with her words, and right to break up with him. He hadn’t truly let someone new into his life in years. Not since you had come along anyway. But he shook his head and entered the kitchen with a bright smile plastered on his face. Today was not the day to think about such profound things. Today was all about his mother, and there would be other days to venture into unveiling the true nature of his affection for you.
The one where it’s enough It had been a while since the thoughts of you and him had started blooming in Derek’s chest. Maybe it had been his mother, maybe it had been the number of years you had already spent in your weird little companionship, but somehow, he couldn’t help seeing you in a completely different light. Suddenly every laugh you laughed was for him, suddenly every touch made his heartbeat speed up. It was almost as if he was a teenager again, only that his crush was his best friend and he couldn’t just run away from you without arousing suspicion. He watched you pack your bag at your desk, a gorgeous burgundy dress he had never seen before clinging to your figure. “Oh wow. You’re dressed up like that for him?” You turned around in surprise upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Derek? What are you still doing here?” You were the last ones still at work, everyone else had left to go home or somewhere else already. You had shoved in some extra hours tonight, mainly to distract yourself from the evening ahead. An ex of yours was back in town, and he had made it more than clear to you that he had changed and that this time, he was ready to be serious about you. You didn’t even really know yourself why you had agreed to go out for dinner with him, maybe it was the fear of feeling as lonely as you had on the wedding again. Derek stepped closer to you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. You shuddered, not prepared for the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t go on this date, (Y/N). You’ll just allow him back into your life and settle for way less than you actually deserve and-“ You frowned and watched him shake his head in frustration, not able to read his behaviour. This was a side of Derek you had never seen before, one you didn’t know, and it made you anxious. But then, suddenly, he sent you one last weird look, stepped closer to you and grabbed your face to kiss you. You felt your eyes widen, looking at him in confusion after pulling away. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammered out; afraid he had made a terrible mistake. There had always been clear lines between the two of you, lines that had never been openly discussed yet also lines that had never been crossed. Derek cupped the side of your face, forcing you to look at him. “I need to do this before I forever regret never taking a shot at us. I love you, (Y/N), and not just in the way I’ve thought. You’re not just in my future, I think you... you are my future. No one will ever fit as much with us like us. Our crazy jobs, our stupid addiction to cheesy 90’s music, the years of experience we have with handling each other through our highs and lows…We would be stupid not to at least try it.” You exhaled the breath you hadn’t even known you’d been holding in. “So don’t go on this date, don’t let this stupid guy make you think that mediocrity is all you deserve. We might not work out in the end, which I think is highly unlikely, but we definitely are anything but mediocre. I burn for you, (Y/N), and with the way we subconsciously keep sabotaging our own relationships I can’t help but hope that you feel the same.” You blinked at him for a moment, still not really sure about what exactly was happening. You didn’t even dare properly thinking it through, but not even that scared you. This felt right, as right as nothing in your life had ever felt before. It was Derek, after all. He was your person. So you held onto his strong arms, got on your tiptoes, and tentatively kissed him. This time it was him who looked at you in surprise after pulling away, his chest heaving as if he were out of breath. “I love you too.” You whispered. You looked at each other for a moment, trying to think of what to do next. And then you were all over each other.
The one where everyone finds out “We’re not telling anyone about this. This is our thing.” You spoke, closing the last two bottoms on your blouse. Derek watched you from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, humming in agreement. “They’ll never let us live this down if we tell them that we’re together now. Can you imagine the teasing from Prentiss and Hotch?” You shuddered at his words, making your way over to him and sinking down on his lap. “This is just ours for now.” You smiled and kissed him carefully. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe you got to do that now, to just kiss your best friend whenever you felt like it. It was exhilarating, and you almost regretted all the years it had taken you to get to that point. He snaked his arms around you and pulled you closer, the warmth in his eyes robbing you of your ability to speak. “Ours.” He repeated as if he couldn’t believe it himself. You kissed him again, just to remind him of how much you were his now. Then the two of you got ready to go to work. It wasn’t exactly a rarity to see the two of you coming into the BAU together on some mornings, so you didn’t even bother arriving on separate times, and yet something seemed to be notably different about the two of you. Something so different that, when you saw Spencer slip a fifty-dollar bill into JJ’s hand, you knew that there was no keeping secrets in this godforsaken team. The teasing during the next few weeks was awful, and hadn’t the two of you loved your co-workers and friends so much you would have probably reported their bullying to HR. But nothing could overshadow your happiness at this point. You both felt as if you had finally fully stepped into life, finally stepped into your full potential. The happiest out of all the people over your getting together though, even happier than you yourselves, was Derek’s mother. She had yelled out in joy upon hearing the news over the phone, scolding Derek for how long she had known without him listening to her and making you laugh. A few months later you finally found the time to visit Derek’s family as a real couple for the first time, already feeling bad for how long it had taken you. The first half-hour was, again, spent with Mrs Morgan telling the two of you about how she had known all along and always wished for you to get together already. “Now, all I need to be completely happy is a grandchild.” She casually said over dinner and caused you to choke on your food. Derek hid his laughter in his napkin and threw you a look that just about said ‘you knew what you were getting yourself into’. “But I can see that we’re already close to that. How far along are you, (Y/N) dear?” Suddenly Derek wasn’t laughing anymore. You felt yourself freeze in shock and blinked at your boyfriend’s mother in shock. “Huh?!” You asked with the most conviction. She happily chatted on. “Oh honey, you can’t tell me that all that glowing is just from my son, as much as I love him.” You put your fork down with trembling fingers. “Mrs Morgan, I’m not pregnant.” She looked at you, narrowed her eyes, and then shrugged. “Alright. I just had a feeling.” You knew damn well that she wasn’t done with this yet, but the topic seemed to be finished for the moment and you awkwardly moved to other subjects with your conversations. Later that night, Morgan watched you getting ready for bed with the same weird look as his mother. “Should I go get you a test?” He asked. You exhaled. “I’m not pregnant Derek!”, you almost yelled in exasperation. He lowered his gaze. “But… you have been looking different. Something feels different.” You smiled and sat down beside him on the little bench at the end of the bed. “That’s because I am different. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, okay? It’s got nothing to do with a baby, as much as your mom hopes for one.” Derek chuckled and took your hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the both of them. “Do you think we should take her to a doctor? Maybe she’s not doing alright.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder. “Now you’re just being mean, babe.” Still chuckling you crawled underneath the covers, patting the empty space next to you. He understood immediately, laying down next to you and pulling you close to his toned body. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the silence for a moment, the calm you always felt in your best friend’s embrace. “I am surprised, though.” You spoke into the silence. Derek hummed in question, his warm chest vibrating beneath your ear. “I thought you would be freaking out at the prospect of a baby. Yet here you were, just offering me to get a test.” He turned to be able to look at you, his face displaying surprise over his own behaviour. “Huh. I guess…” He inhaled deeply. “I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if it was with you. We’re gonna have them anyway, right? I thought that was part of the deal.” You both laughed. “Part of your mom’s deal, anyway.” He chuckled at your words. “But in all seriousness, I look forward to it, Derek. One day we’ll have a few little Morgans running around, and with our genes, they’ll be adorable. Your mom just caught me off guard, you know? We basically just started dating, even though we’ve known each other for so long. It would be a little soon, wouldn’t it?” Derek just shrugged and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If it happens, it happens. I’ll take whatever life throws at me as long as I’ve got you by my side.”
The one where his mom knows best Was there a secret rule that mothers had to be clairvoyant, or all-knowing? It was a week later, and you had just emptied your stomach’s contents into your trash bin at work. You had been feeling dizzy the past few days, and your sense of smell had changed, too. For today, you decided to play it off as a placebo effect and continued with your day, even though Derek looked at your pale face in worry all day. But the next day was Saturday, the day you and Derek traditionally cooked a big breakfast together, and when the smell of his famous pancakes sent you running to the toilet you knew what was up. Your boyfriend ran into the toilet after you, rushing to hold your hair up and stroke your back. Once you were done coughing up your lungs and were able to sit up straight again, you met his gaze in shock and closed your eyes. And then the two of you started laughing. “Mother knows best, huh?” You laughed, burying your face in your hands. “Is there any way we can keep this from her? Just to spite her?” Derek chuckled and pressed the longest kiss against your forehead. “No way, I’m afraid. She’s never gonna shut up about this.” You smiled and looked at him, really looked at him kneeling on the floor with you. You thought back to the talk you had had in his childhood bedroom, the talk you had had at the wedding, the way he had been so sure of your future together. With him by your side, you were going to be alright. So maybe you weren’t going to shut up about this either.
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petri808 · 4 years ago
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*Note and question for readers at the end :)
Lucy’s eyes flashed wide as her emotions swung drastically from her own distress to the blood still dripping down Natsu’s cheek. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” She scrambled away from him, stumbling on her knees to right herself as she looked quickly around the room for any fabric. She grabbed a towel off the kitchen counter and rushed back, dropping to her knees as she pressed it to the wound. Tears renewed in her eyes. “Look at what she did, this is so bad! It’s gonna leave a scar for sure! Oh god,” her eyes flit back and forth rapidly from his face to his body, “and your side too! This is so bad!” The tears flowing down her cheeks were a mixture of emotions. Lucy lifted his shirt, flinching, fingers curling into the hem in anger as she sees the jagged wound on the side of his abdomen. If it had gone just a little deeper, he wouldn’t be sitting there with her and that really set her off! “You should’a let me beat her senseless! Look at this! She deserves to be in the same pain she put you through!”
Despite the physical pain, Natsu was trying desperately to keep his girlfriend from losing it again and seeing the wound was only riling her up further. He gently moved her shaky hands away from his side to push his shirt down again. “Lucy, it’s okay, really, d-don’t work yourself up, please? What’s important is we made it.”
“But still! This wasn’t fair!”
“Shhh, baby, it’s gonna be okay...”
“No, it’s not! Stop saying that!” Lucy snapped back. She wasn’t an idiot. She could see the pain in his grimaced features which only made her even more furious. “This will never be over. Those scars won’t go away! I’m gonna have nightmares, I know it! So, don’t you tell me it’s gonna be okay!”
Her emotions were in full throttle mode as she then flailed her bound wrists at the milling officers. “And will somebody get these damn ropes off me?!?!” One of the men cut her loose as she continued to scream and cry.
“I hate her! I hate her for what she’s done! I-I’ve never hated anyone before, but right now I just wanna... I just wanna...”
Still holding onto his side, Natsu used his left arm to pull his girl into a tight hug. He knew exactly what words were on the edge of her lips, but his current priority was calming her down and agreeing would only fuel her anger. “Lucy shhh,” he cooed in a soft tone, “it’s okay, baby it’s okay...”
“It’s not! It’s not!” Once again, Lucy slumped against him as another wave of hysterical sobbing racked her body. It wasn’t okay! She’d been kidnapped and almost killed! Her boyfriend was seriously injured all because Touka couldn’t except reality. None of this was okay! She couldn’t take much more of these roller coaster emotions. Sadness, anger, relief, they continued to alternate in her mind. Leaning back and fixing him in a narrowed and pained glare. “I thought I was gonna die— Natsu I just can’t stop thinking about that! Die, do you understand?!” Her chest heaved with every word. “I was so scared... so scared—,” her hand unconsciously moved up to cup around the front of her neck as if still feeling the sensation of the knife pressed against it. “I-I don’t even know how I kept myself from losing it... I just kept thinking, I gotta get out of here, I-I gotta figure out a way to save myself. And when she raised the knife—.” Her words cut off mid-sentence and eyes drifted to the spot they’d been standing in as if her thoughts halted in remembrance.
“Lucy,” Natsu cradled her cheek, pulling her gaze back onto him, “you are so much stronger then you give yourself credit for.”
She rolled her eyes in an exasperated sob. “If I’m so strong, then why am I crying now?!”
His eyes softened. “Because you can. You did what you had to stay alive and now you can let it all go. Baby, it’s okay to let it out. Let it all out and cry as much as you need to, cause I’ll hold you for as long as you need it.”
Lucy paused her words and simply cried for several minutes against his chest. She didn’t feel strong, and how was he staying so calm?! But oh, how she needed the reassurances. Deep down she knew he was just trying to help, knew what he was saying was the truth, but even if she’d wanted to stop thinking about these things, she couldn’t. The night played out on an endless loop in her mind’s eye. What could she have done to avoid this? Was there anything she could have said to stop Touka? She didn’t know if it was her heart or her head trying to tell her no, that nothing would have changed the woman’s plans. But once the dam had broken, her mind just wasn’t ready to fully let go. It was too angry about everything, even feared just how angry this was all making her feel. Lucy didn’t like it one bit. Ugh! What was Touka turning her into?!
“I wanted to kill her, Natsu... does that make me bad just like her?”
Those words whispered out by Lucy as she rested her head on his shoulder, stunned Natsu, but he could understand the reasoning. In such a heated moment when instincts took over, it’s either kill or be killed and he could admit to himself, if he’d had the chance, he would have done so too. But Touka had proven to be a a lot tougher then she looked. Perhaps the woman was running on the same anger that now plagued his girlfriend? It was perfectly clear how both he and Lucy were going to need therapy after this if they were to get back to a normal life, but he also needed to cling to hope, to make sure Touka didn’t succeed in ruining the rest of their lives.
He kissed her temple. “It’s normal to feel that way, but you’re not a killer,” Natsu reassured Lucy in a soft tone. “That’s just not who you really are.”
His words seemed to work for the time being as the woman quieted enough for the medical workers who’d arrived to start their job. The wound to Lucy’s neck was quickly cleaned and bandaged, but Natsu’s injuries were much more severe. The EMT’s cleaned and stapled the cheek and side wounds, but he’ll need to be taken to the hospital for scans to ensure it didn’t knick any internal organs, as well as to better suture the wounds.
A flurry of more officers had descended to start an investigation, of which Gajeel took the lead. And there was a wealth of information in the apartment to document. As they’d already learned, Touka was a former schoolmate of Natsu from high school who had reams of pictures, print outs from social media, even personal information on Natsu as well as Lucy that they would need to figure out how she’d somehow obtained. The woman hadn’t been kidding about stalking the man for years.
Once the officers had arrived, everything became a blur for Lucy who felt pulled in multiple directions all at once. She was so overwhelmed by the flood of information and experiences that her mind was shutting down, body numbed in an adrenaline stupor. Medical personnel were trying to work on Natsu and attend to her superficial neck wound, while detectives were asking them questions about the ordeal. When they’d tried to separate the couple to interview them, Lucy wasn’t having it, clinging harder to the man so they’d given up.
No, she’d knocked me out, so I don’t know how she got me here. Yes, I woke up bound on the floor. Yes, she’d kept the knife to my throat most of the time. Yes! Most of the time! How long... how the fuck should I know?! She moved it briefly to think! No, I don’t know how long I was unconscious, does it really matter?!
Any strides Natsu had made at calming her down went out the window. Lucy’s whole body was shaking in anger as she cradled her head to block them out. She was seriously about to have a mental break down right then and there. “Can everyone give me some fucking breathing room?! We told you this was fucking serious, but you didn’t believe us!”
Natsu too, had grown frustrated by the pointed and emotionless questioning. Here they’d just been through a harrowing ordeal, and these police offers were victimizing his girlfriend for a second time! He snapped at one of the detectives to stop traumatizing Lucy. “The woman was seconds away from being killed, have some fucking compassion!”
That’s when Gajeel, who’d had his hands full directing everything, finally stepped in and told the other detectives to cool it for now, growling at them to remember they were the victims. “You fuckers worry about collecting physical evidence. I’ll deal with the interviews once they’re cleared by the doctors!” He then redirected back to the couple. “Levy’s gonna meet you two at the hospital, then once the doctors are done, you’ll come to my office for an interview. It’s gonna be rough, not gon’ lie, but I’ll try to make the process as easy on you as I can.”
“Thanks, man,” Natsu expressed a sincere gratitude to Gajeel who simply nodded back and directed the EMT’s to take them to the hospital.
Lucy helped Natsu to his feet and the couple are guided downstairs to the awaiting ambulance. As they pass by the other apartments, it’s obvious the whole incident had drawn the attention of residents or neighbors, who peered through windows or tracked with eyes the couple walking by. It was creepy, irritating, calling upon what little reserves she had to not stop walking and snap. She wanted to scream, mind your business! Till she realized if they hadn’t done so in the first place, maybe someone would have caught onto Touka’s behaviors sooner. Did the woman really have no friends? If anyone had visited the apartment and saw the Natsu collage plastered all over the wall, it would have raised eyebrows in the least. Or maybe... no one cared... it’s not a stretch to think any friends Touka has are just as crazy as she is. Not even the police cared enough to take them seriously. Why? Because it’s just too strange for a woman to be so mentally unstable? Probably chalked it all up to a lovers triangle gone wrong. What if?! What if?! What if?! Lucy’s mind was starting to race again with thought, after negative thought pulsing through faster then she could process them.
Her hand started tightening on Natsu’s as they sat side by side in the ambulance causing him to look over and question her. “Lucy, you okay?” His worried tone growing with each second. Her body was shivering yet tense, head shaking no, eyes wide but glassy, and breathing growing labored in rapid bursts. The EMT sitting across from them watching the events unfold, reached out to take Lucy’s wrist. She flinched but doesn’t pull it back. After a few seconds of silence, the man let go and warned that her pulse was racing.
“Miss, you’re having a panic attack.”
Question for readers below:
There was 4 more chapters planned, but depending on how things play out I may need to add more as needed. While the major things I wanted to hit upon were planned out in advance, I never know where the characters and stories will take me lol.
A question for any readers who see this note is: How much of Lucy's recovery from this ordeal would you like to see or should I delve into? It would lengthen the amount of angst, but also add to the growing relationship and bond between Natsu and Lucy.
Thoughts? Comment in the notes :)
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ikenbar · 4 years ago
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Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH4 PT11
Second to last part until Chapter four comes to a close! I’ll hate to see it go but I’ll be back on my regular schedule after this. Not to mention, Chapter five has got to be one of my favorites. It’s one I actually go back and read when I have spare time! So get excited!! :D
Warnings: Blood, fainting, setting of a dislocated arm (you more hear about it then witness it), cleaning wounds, we got fluff, we got angst (only a tiny bit tho), and we got some of that sweet farm raised and grass fed cliffhangers!! :D
(Chapter Four (Victor and Gavin) Prologue, and part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten can be found here!)
Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D
And an additional note in a previous part of chapter four part three here! (I promise these notes are important)
Chapter four:
Part ten:
“No bodyguards.” I insisted for the uptenth time as Adri and I climbed the stairs to my apartment, “I told you I’m fine. Just a minor scrape.”
“It’s not your scrape that makes me worried.” Victor’s voice had a sense of importance, “It’s how you got it. You were driven off the road, Ikamara! What if you had gotten killed?!”
“It takes a lot more than a few cars and guns to kill me, Victor.”
“Ike-”
“Victor,-” I interrupted, moving the phone to my shoulder to grab my keys from my pocket, “I’m-” I grunted. A sharp pain rushed through my chest. I gripped my side and I handed the phone to Adri. “Talk to victor for me while I grab my keys.” I groaned, trying to keep face. Adri nodded slowly then held the phone up to her ear. 
“Hey Vicky!... It’s a no to ‘Vicky?’ Alright, well, Ike blasted some holes in their tires. They aren’t going anywhere. I promise. And, if they do, you’ll be the first person we call, ok?... alright police first, and then you!” Adri paused a moment as she listened to Victor, “... You want to send a doctor?... Well...” Adri gave me a once over. I threw the keys into my door knob and yanked the phone from Adri’s ear.
“No doctors.” I deadpanned, “I’ve dealt with worse injuries than these. We’ll be fine…” I unlocked my door but didn’t open it right away.  I looked over to Adri, “... Although, one thing is strange to me.” 
“What tipped you off? Was it the fact that you were thrown off the road by a bull headed man, perhaps?” Victor asked with sourness on his tongue.
“No, My-”
“Hold on.” Adri took my phone again but, instead of putting it to her ear, tapped the speaker phone button and held it up between us, “Sorry, V. I was hearing one part of this conversation and it was getting old. Please, Ike.” She gestured for me to continue. 
“... Thanks, Adri.” I cleared my throat, “My evol makes it so I have nearly impenetrable skin. Not even bullets can get through it... if that’s the case-”
“Then what cut your arm?” Victor and Adri had caught on quickly as they asked the same question at the same time. I looked down at my arm. 
“I don’t know. The last time I remember being cut this bad was when I was younger and my evol was still developing.”
“Didn’t you get a cut on your date?” Victor asked, “Do you know what could have caused it?”
“No. I-” I paused, “... that waiter’s cufflink. It was what tore at my shirt so it must have been what cut me too.” 
“Do you remember what kind of cufflink it was?” Victor asked. I looked down and hummed in thought.
“Wait.” Adri said, snapping her fingers, “Some construction work requires them to drill or grind into hard and heavy materials so that the building can be sturdy under certain conditions such as earthquakes or thunderstorms.”
“Interesting fact.” I rolled my eyes, “What does that have to do with-”
“Some of the equipment they use had diamonds embedded in them.”
Something clicked in my head.
“The waiter’s cufflink,” I said slowly, “It must have had a diamond in it as well…”
“Exactly.” Adri nodded.
“Ike,” Victor said, gravely, “Did Montu see your injury?” I felt my blood run cold.
“I… I don’t know.” I gasped, thinking hard about the events that had just transpired, “We were talking for some time but... I don’t think he knew I was hurt… but I was covered in blood.”
“Maybe he thought it was mine.” Adri said quickly and reassuringly, “You were bleeding on me when we were hiding in the ceiling.”
“Let’s hope that’s true.” Victor seemed to have said that more to himself then to me, “... Are you two sure you’re alright being alone right now? If not I can send someone over to-”
“We’re alright.” I reassured, though a little unsure, “No need to send anyone. If I really do need someone over... I have my neighbor. He’s a cop so he’ll be able to protect us if we need it.”
“... He?” Victor asked in a strange tone.
“... Yeah? Why?”
“Nothing. I’ll let you go then. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Alright.” I said, complicated feelings rising in my chest, “Hey, send me a bill for your tires. It was my fault they were-”
“Stop.” Even over the phone, Victor’s tone was still harsh enough to silence me, “It wasn’t your fault. I’ve got it handled so don’t worry about it.”
I sighed, “... Thank you, Victor.” 
“If you feel as if you can’t go to work tomorrow-”
“I’ll be there.” I said quickly.
“... Ok. Get some sleep.”
“You too.”
“I will. Good night, Ike.”
“Good night, Victor.” 
“Good night, V!” Adri chimed.
“... Good night, Adrienne.” Victor sighed. I hung up the phone and Adri tossed it to me, a teasing smirk rising from her lips.
“For a moment it felt like you two had forgotten about me.” She taunted, wiggling her eyebrows, “Maybe I should have just left you two alone!”
“Shut it.” I rolled my eyes and twisted the doorknob to my apartment. The door creaked open revealing a quiet, empty, and dark room. I knew no one was in there but for some strange reason, I felt as if I was being watched. Images from the warehouse flashed in my mind. A room where there were photos of me sitting on the sofa or making something in the kitchen. Montu knew where I lived and had been watching me. I wasn’t afraid of them. I beat them that night. I got away from them… but now…
I looked down at Adri. I had taken the sleeve of her jacket and propped her arm up so it wasn’t hanging so loosely by her side. I grit my teeth as I brushed my side again with my hand. This time, it wasn’t just me in my apartment. It would be my sister too. A bloodied and bruised sister whom I couldn’t rightly take care of alone in my situation… 
I was going to need some help.
With a sigh, I locked eyes with Adri. “We were in a car accident.” I enunciated each word I said with precision, "Got it?"
"Uh, sure?" Adri replied, looking very confused.
I nodded and closed my door as I turned to the apartment across from mine. After a long moment of hesitation, I walked over and knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence then movement came from the other end. Instant regret flooded my body.  I frantically looked down at my bullet ridden clothes and bleeding arm. I quickly pulled off my jacket but my blazer was just as destroyed. I groaned as the door opened to reveal a casually dressed Gavin in the doorway. 
"H-Hey birdcop." I stammered, sounding even more guilty than I looked. At first Gavin looked at me confused, but his face dropped and his eyes dilated. 
“What happened to you?!” Gavin’s voice, though stern, shook slightly as he immediately grabbed for my blood soaked sleeve and inspected it. 
“Car accident.” My jaw felt tight as I spouted out my excuse. Gavin looked up at me.
“This was from a car accident?” Gavin’s voice made it clear he was unconvinced.
I nodded and kept the ball rolling, "I hit a snag in the road and fell head long into a construction site and onto some tools. I scraped up my arm pretty bad… and may have broken a couple of ribs.”
“We need to get you to the hospital.” Gavin reached inside his apartment to grab something.
“No!” I quickly grabbed his arm, wincing as my side sparked in pain, “If I’m in need of any kind of sewing, they won’t be able to poke the needle through my skin and find out I am an evolver. I have the stuff we need in my bathroom. Can… you help us patch up?" 
“Us?” Gavin looked up. His eyes locked on to something. I turned and saw a red faced Adri staring blankly at Gavin, clearly at a loss for words.
“My sister was on the bike with me.” I said, guilt and regret riding on my tongue, “I protected her pretty well but she still has some injuries. Mainly her shoulder being dislocated.”
“Why didn’t you take her to a hospital?” Gavin asked, gesturing with irritation.
“They would insist on working on me if I took her.” I said, folding my arms and looking back at Gavin, “Besides, I figured I could handle it.” Gavin glared down at me. I arched my eyebrow. “If you don’t want to help I’m sure I could-”
“No.” Gavin quickly interrupted me as he walked out of his apartment, “I’ll help.” 
“Good.” I nodded and walked back to my apartment, “Thanks, Birdcop.” Gavin grunted from behind me. I rolled my eyes but a warm feeling still tickled my heart as I reached for the door to my apartment again.
“Are you alright?” Gavin’s soft words made me turn around. He was looking worriedly at Adri, who was looking down at the ground, avoiding all eye contact.
“Y-yep!” She stammered, face somehow getting even redder than before.
“Are you sure?” Gavin reached out to her, “Your face is really red. Are you cold?” The moment Gavin’s hand touched her elbow, a small yelp came from Adri’s mouth. She quickly covered it with her free hand and ran next to me.
“Open the damn door.” She whispered, pulling on my sleeve.
“I don’t know.” I cooed, arching my eyebrow as I smirked, “I kinda wanna see where this goes.” Adri cursed and forced my hand away from the doorknob. She threw the door open and ran inside, despite how dark the room still was. I bit back the comments riding on my tongue as I switched on the lights. Suddenly the apartment had become as inviting as it usually was. I sighed lightly with relief as Gavin walked in behind me. I looked up at him. Worry and confusion played on his eyes as he looked at Adri. I patted his arm lightly. "Don’t worry.” I whispered, causing him to look down at me, “She’s always like this.” 
“Really?” Gavin’s expression softened slightly. I nodded.
“Now, make yourself at home." I said in my normal tone as I walked into the apartment and towards the bathroom, "I’ll be right out with what we need.” I walked past Adri, who had fallen onto the couch, slumped over, and covered her face with her jacket. I smirked and continued walking, deciding against making fun of her. At that point, she would kill me faster then Montu would. 
Just as I got to the bathroom door, I paused to look back at the room. Gavin had made his way to the couch, sitting next to Adri delicately. He spoke to her in a tone soft enough that I couldn’t hear them. I had some idea though when Adri’s nervous expression turned into one of horror. Gavin was likely telling her how he was going to set her arm. Something he shouldn’t have to do because the whole ordeal was my fault. But there was no way I could with my ribs being the way they were. 
I tapped at the door, watching them a little longer before finally entering the bathroom. Whether or not it was my fault was not important. No matter what, Adri was still hurt and she needed help, and Gavin was going to help her… 
He was going to help us.
After I was sure I was out of everyone’s eyeline, I collapsed onto the counter in pain. I clutched at my side and gritted my teeth. When had it become so hard to breathe? I panted in short breaths as I opened my mirror. I immediately located the first aid kit.
… on the top shelf. 
Of course it was.
I cursed and tapped my finger on the counter. Would it even be worth the pain? I could just run the scratch over some water and be fine! I’ll use an old t-shirt or something to stop the blood! We’d be-
I heard a painful cry come from outside of the bathroom. I cringed as guilt rushed through my stomach. After another moment of thought, I took a deep breath and reached for the first aid kit. Pain erupted and pushed throughout my chest. Gritting my teeth to the point of breaking, I quickly grabbed the first aid kit and collapsed once more unto the counter. But, because I had used all of my energy to grab the kit, I slipped onto the floor instead. I hit the floor hard as I fell to my knees. Nausea rushed through my throat as black dots flooded my vision, threatening a blackout. I clutched my head and moaned, fighting to stay conscious as the familiar feeling of exhaustion hit me like a truck. 
Hurried footsteps approached the bathroom. I tried fixing myself to look less pathetic but the quick motion ended up making me feel even worse. A figure appeared next to me, kneeling down and surveying me closely. “Hey,” Gavin’s worried voice echoed slightly in my ears, “Are you alright?”
“Peachy.” I gasped, looking over at him. Gavin’s form seemed to be shifting slightly, making it hard for me to focus on him. I closed my eyes and rubbed them as I shoved the first aid kit into his stomach. “Here.” I groaned, “take that to Adri. She’ll…” My balance faltered. The hand on my back quickly moved to my arm, pulling me into Gavin’s chest.
“Hey,” Gavin quickly patted my cheek, “Stay with me, Ike.” I shook my head and weakly brushed away his hand.
“I’m fine.” I lied, “Just give the kit to A-” Before I could finish, I felt the first aid kit slide back onto my lap. I opened my eyes in time to see Gavin slip his arm under my knees. “W-wait-” I began, but it was too late. Gavin carefully pulled me close to him and lifted me up, making sure to take it slow so as to not make my condition worse. I fell further into his chest and gripped at his shirt, closing my eyes again as another wave of nausea crashed into my throat.
“You still here, Ike?” Gavin asked softly, rubbing his thumb over my arm.
“A warning would have been nice.” I groaned, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. Gavin held me tighter as he moved out of the room. A small gasp came from somewhere in the room. 
“Is she ok?!” Adri, through the exhaustion in her voice, sounded incredibly worried as Gavin led me further into the room.
“She’s fine.” Gavin said, his voice vibrating through his chest, “She’s just pushed herself a little farther than necessary.” I weakly flicked at Gavin’s chin. Gavin chuckled, the air from his nose teasing my bangs and cooling the cold sweat on my forehead. 
I opened my eyes as Gavin gently placed me down next to Adri on the couch. He lay my head on one of the throw pillows on the couch and raised my knees up as he tucked a pillow underneath them, keeping them from falling. Gavin took the first aid kit and placed it on the coffee table behind him. Once he was sure I was taken care of, Gavin knelt down next to me.
“Ike-” He began. I raised a hand.
“Ice packs are in the top door of the fridge.” I took my raised hand and pointed it to the kitchen, “Grab one for Adri. While you’re there you can grab me a juice box from the fridge so I don’t pass out.” Gavin nodded and quickly stood from my side. I looked over to Adri. She was watching Gavin, gripping her shoulder tightly. Though she was putting on a tough face, I could tell she was in pain. “Hey, kiddo.” I kicked her lightly, pulling her attention to me, “How are you doing?” Adri looked at me strangely for a moment, then she sighed.
“You know,” Adri elbowed me playfully, “If someone wasn’t already trying to, I would kill you right now.” She smirked. Although it was weak and obviously full of pain, I was glad to see her smile again. I smiled too, winking playfully to her.
Gavin walked back over to us, two ice packs and a grape juice box in hand. He handed me the box. I carefully moved to sit up as I reached for it. Gavin’s hand twitched. I gave him a a reassuring look as I took the box. He hesitated a moment, watching me take a few sips of the juice before moving to sit next to Adri. “Sorry.” He said, handing her an ice pack, “I wish there was a better way to get it back in.”
“It’s fine.” Adri sighed, taking the pack from him and placing it on her shoulder, “I feel like we have grown closer to each other this way.” Gavin chuckled lightly, causing a warm blush to push through Adri’s cheeks. She cleared her throat and stood up carefully from the couch. Both Gavin and I reacted, moving to help her. “I’m fine!” She said, hurriedly waving away our hands as she held her arm up, “I’m just gonna take a quick shower. Ike, you don’t mind if I borrow some clothes do you?”
“Do you think a shower is a good idea?” Gavin asked seriously, “I just set your arm.”
“Well, I’m covered in dirt and blood, so I’m gonna say yes.” She walked across the room and to my bedroom.
“Maybe a bath would be better.” I said as Adri opened my closet, “There’s less of a chance that you could accidentally hurt your arm. And you can keep that ice pack on you.” Adri paused at the door, thinking over my offer, “... I have bath salts under the sink.”
“Sold!” Adri chimed, smiling excitedly as she reached into the closet. She pulled out one of my flannels and a pair of yoga pants then shut the door. She turned to us. “Make sure she hurts like I did, Officer.” Adri said, skipping into the bathroom, “I wanna hear her scream!” I shook my head and glared at her. Adri spit out her tongue and closed the door behind her, leaving Gavin and I alone together on the couch.
Gavin cleared his throat as sat closer to me. “How’s your side?” He asked, handing me the second ice pack in his hand.
“Could be worse.” I grunted, taking the pack and swinging my legs off of the couch, finally feeling strong enough to completely sit up. Gavin reached out but I shooed his hand away. Instead I looked him seriously in the eye. “Thank you for doing that.” I said, tone matching my stare, “I know it must have been hard setting her arm on your own.”
“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t that far out of place.” Gavin replied just as seriously as he looked me over, “Besides, it was nothing compared to how it was seeing you on the floor back there.” My heart froze. Gavin reached out and touched the back of his hand to my forehead, “I heard a thud so I rushed to check on you. You were as pale as a ghost. I was scared I didn’t get there in time.” Gavin’s hand fell onto my cheek. I quickly turned my head away from him. I didn’t want him to feel how warm my cheeks were getting.
“Y-yeah. Sorry about that.” I said, swirling the juicebox in my hand absentmindedly, “You said it yourself. I just... pushed myself a little farther than necessary.” There was a soft pause. Then Gavin sighed and reached to inspect my arm once more. The moment his calloused fingers grazed my wound, shots of electricity strung up my body. After he inspected it closer, Gavin let go of my hand. His expression changed to one of determination and he reached over to grab the first aid kit. Since the kit was so far from him, Gavin had to lean over me, rubbing his chest on my arm and pushing his leg against mine. I could feel the heat emanating from his clothes as he leaned even closer to me. I felt the burn in my cheeks rise. I quickly turned from him and covered my face, coughing awkwardly to break the air.
After what had seemed like forever, Gavin finally pulled away from me, first aid kit in hand and obliviousness dripping from his aura. He moved a little further away from me and placed the kit on his lap. 
"Take your clothes off." Gavin said nonchalantly as he opened it’s lid.
My eyelids flew open. "Excuse me?" I arched my eyebrows and looked at Gavin with a smirk, "I'm flattered, Birdcop, but buy me dinner first." 
"I mean take off your jacket and shirt.” Gavin rolled his eyes, as he pulled some alcohol and cotton out of the kit, “How do you expect me to clean your wound with your clothes on?”
“Carefully.”
“Ike, just the jacket and the shirt. Stop making this harder than it has to be.” 
I rolled my eyes and moved to remove my jacket. The pain in my chest reappeared.  I hitched my breath and grabbed my side, grimacing through the pain. 
There was a moment of awkward silence. 
We both knew what had to be done.
"Can I-" Gavin started. I held up a finger to quiet him. After a moment I sighed and used that finger to point at him.
"No one tells Minor." I muttered, glaring at the image of Minor's face that popped into my mind, "Agreed?"
"Agreed." Gavin answered resoundly, a tone of dread leaking from his tongue. I nodded then moved closer to him. Gavin also slid closer and grabbed my blazer by the collar, slowly and carefully pulling it down and off my shoulders. Fragments of debris rained onto the couch as folds of fabric came undone. "Glass?" Gavin asked. 
"... I crashed through a window." I said, hesitantly.
"Where did you crash?" Gavin's voice almost had a hint of laughter.
"Just off of Aspen and Brooks." I answered honestly, "There's a new apartment being built there."
"Really?" Gavin sounded skeptical as he moved the jacket steadily past my scrape, "I just received word from a cop buddy of mine that there was gunfire coming from there."
"Really?" I asked, thinking fast.
"Yeah, multiple shots."
"My tire blew and I fell into some tools. I wonder if someone thought it was gunshots and miss called."
"Maybe." Gavin finally pulled my jacket off of me, "I was told it was a false alarm." Mixed feelings welled in my chest as Gavin came closer to me. How did Montu get out of there in time? If the police was called for gunshots, there was no way they would get those cars out of there in ti-
Gavin's hands pulled at the buttons of my shirt. Flustered, I quickly pushed him back. "Uh, I-I can do the buttons." I stammered, unbuttoning my shirt quickly and shakily. Gavin backed away quickly, holding his hand up to his mouth and nodding.
"R-right." He muttered, "Sorry." I looked up at him. His ears blossomed into a bright red as he searched frantically around the room for something to look at. I smiled slightly, both from how adorable he was acting and also from the quick distraction from the subject.
I finished undoing my shirt and Gavin helped pull it off of me. I thanked my lucky stars that I wore a tank top that day as Gavin took a better look at the damage done to my arm. He pursed his lips but didn’t say much more. Instead, he moved back to the alcohol and cotton from before and set the box back on the coffee table. Gavin took the cotton ball, coated it in alcohol, then carefully cleaned the wound. I winced as it stung my arm. Deciding to focus on something else, I kept my eyes on Gavin. He was extremely focused on the task at hand. His hands brushed over my skin with a sort of movement that proved that this wasn't his first time dealing with this type of wound. 
My thoughts seemed to drift as I looked into his eyes. They were full of determination but there was also a soft note of worry. He seemed to be detracting himself from the worry by cleaning my arm but he couldn't quite hide the fact that it was still there, bugging him obsessively.
That tone vanished as Gavin locked eyes with something on my arm. He stopped cleaning as his worry and determination were replaced with shock. Then anger. "So," Gavin said, clicking his tongue slightly, "Where did you land exactly?"
"I… already told you." My defences rose slightly to his change of attitude, "I crashed my bike into some construction tools."
"Oh really?" Gavin's grip around my arm tightened, as if prepared to stop me from running. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit then used them to pluck something out from the middle of my arm. I winced and looked at what he had grabbed. My blood pooled to my feet.
"I don't remember bullets being used in building construction." Gavin waved Dylan's flattened bullet in front of my face.
"...oh yeah." I shakily said, repositioning myself on the couch, "I also ran into Montu while I was there."
The bullet fell from the tweezers.
“You what?!” Gavin's tone changed dramatically as his grip tightened even further, "When were you going to tell me about this?!" Gavin spoke sharply. 
“After Adri had left.” I groaned and pawed at Gavin’s hand, trying to get him to let it go. He did so by throwing it aside and standing up.
"Why do I not believe you?!" Gavin growled, pulling out his phone and tapping it fervently.
"...what are you doing?" I asked, fear rising in my gut.
"I'm calling it in!" Gavin put the phone to his ear, "This is agent-"
"No!" I jumped at Gavin and took his phone. Pain erupted from my side but I merely grunted through it as I hung up the call and tossed the phone aside. Unable to take it anymore, I hissed and fell to my knees, catching myself on my coffee table before I completely hit the ground.
"What are you doing?!" Gavin barked, bending down to help me up, "I was jus-" I covered Gavin's mouth.
"Montu's room from the warehouse had pictures from my apartment." I spoke in a harsh whisper, "I have no idea if he is listening right now or not. Saying your emergency code right now may not be the best option.” Gavin stared at me intently for a moment. I stared back meaningfully.
Ultimately, after a long moment of silence, Gavin pulled my hand from his face and looked at me with a softened expression as he clutched it tightly. I eased my shoulders slightly, looking in his eyes for any sign of contentment. Gavin noticed this and sighed. Before I could say anything, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He softly said, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand.
“I’m pretty sure I’d be the death of me.” I said, leaning against his forehead. Gavin chuckled. Something pulled at my chest. His laugh, which was once a sound of reassurance, now sounded strained, as if he was holding something back. 
Without delaying any longer, Gavin helped me to my feet again and onto the couch. He brought the first aid kit to his lap as he grabbed my arm again. “...Gavin.” I started, “I-”
“Ike.” Gavin interrupted, cleaning my arm once more from newly formed blood, “No more excuses. Talk to me honestly. What happened?” I froze. He sounded exhausted. Likely from me hiding so much from him and my constant lies. But if I told him anything, I would be taken off of the case! And I couldn’t afford to lose the progress I was making. Not to mention, the progress I had made with him! If I told Gavin now, he would hate me and we would just go back to the way things were before. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen. I needed to keep this a secret for as long as possible. For him… for us.
I sighed, “I had just gotten back off from work…”
>>>
I traced my finger down the bandage around my arm. Gavin and I had been sitting in silence for what seemed like forever, brewing over what just been said. 
“... That’s it?” Gavin said, looking at his hands as he slumped over the couch.
“Yup.” I sighed.
“You blew holes in their tires then left.”
“Right.”
“And you are certain they said that they were going to visit another evolver tonight as well?”
I closed my eyes, “Yeah. Very certain.”
“Alright then.” Gavin stood up, “This is a good lead. And it looks like you were right about Dylan. I’m going to need his information for when we take him in for questioning.”
“Right.” I said, but my thoughts didn’t agree. If Montu meant what he said, there was no way he was going to let Dylan go after losing me again. Whether that meant through death or something else, I didn’t know. All I did know is that there was no chance we were hearing from Dylan anytime soon. 
“And Dylan said he did that on his own? No one made him go after you?” Gavin asked.
“Yes.” My voice shook slightly as I stood up as well. Gavin held out a helping hand but I brushed him off casually as I made my way to my bedroom, “Dylan told me outright that he had a vendetta against me. And that he was the one that threw the bomb.” I reached my closet and sighed, “Now, can we be done? I’ve had a long day.” I opened the closet doors and reached for a fresh set of clothes.
“One last thing.” Gavin walked up behind me. Before I could figure out what was happening, he had pinned me between himself and the closet, shutting out any way of escape. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me, locking my eyes in his. There was a flurry of emotions in his honey-like glow. Each emotion moved so fast, I couldn’t keep up with any of them. 
I moved to look away but Gavin grabbed my chin, pulling my face back onto him. “I need you to promise me that there is nothing else you are keeping from me.” Gavin spoke in a tone I had never heard him use. It was full of earnestness and determination… and worry, “And I need you to promise me you don’t have any life threatening secret that you are keeping from me. Promise me you have and will always tell me everything that pertains to this. That pertains to your safety.” I hesitated. Gavin’s grip tightened, “Please, Ike. 
“Promise me.” 
I couldn’t move. Nor could I promise him something so important. But, I knew what would happen if I didn’t...
“... I… I promise.” I said, already beating myself up for doing something so stupid. Gavin’s stare was intense as he read my face, looking for some sort of lie. Before he could find it, I pushed his hand away and reached behind me, pulling a sweater off from a hanger. “Like I can keep anything from you anyway.” I scoffed, pushing him aside as I searched for clothes, “You’ve pulled everything I’ve tried to hide from you out of me anyway. Might as well just come clean, right?”
“I hope you mean that.” Gavin practically whispered as he backed away from me. I hummed but decided not to say anything more, too afraid to let anything slip.
After I had found an outfit, I turned and looked at Gavin. He had his arms folded and was staring at the ground, lost in thought. Sensing my eyes, Gavin looked up at me. I twirled my finger in the air. Gavin blushed and quickly nodded, turning on his heel to face away from me. From this angle, I could see just how red his ears had gotten. I smirked and carefully removed my tank top, avoiding using too much effort. The last thing I needed was to be in so much pain that Gavin needed to help me undress as well.
Gavin cleared his throat, "I think it goes without saying that I'm spending the night here." 
"Oh does it?" I hummed, only half paying attention as I got dressed.
"Yes. For your and your sister's protection."
"Thank you for the offer but I think I can handle it from here."
"But you're injured." Gavin slightly turned his head, "How can you expect to protect anyone in your condition?"
"Carefully." I pushed Gavin's head back around. 
“You should copyright that phase.” Gavin grumbled. After a pause, he sighed, "Ike, I just want to make sure you’re safe. Just one night. That’s all I ask.”
I thought for a moment. I wouldn’t be able to talk to Adri about anything while he was here. Not to mention, Gavin wouldn’t have any place to sleep as Adri would be taking the couch… but he was right. If something were to happen while Adri was here, I wouldn’t be able to protect her. After all, Montu looked pretty peeved last I saw him. It would be nice to have a cop stay the night…
“Fine.” I said, buttoning the last button on my new shirt as I walked into Gavin’s view once more, “But you need to promise not to bombard Adri with any questions. The whole thing was pretty traumatic for her.”
A bang came from the bathroom door. “Alright!” Adri came walking out of the bathroom with a large flannel and loose yoga pants, “Who’s ready to get this party started?!”
Gavin folded his arms and turned back to me, “Oh yeah. She looks like she is positively shaking from trauma.”
 (Next)
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itsthemoofacewriting · 4 years ago
Text
Potato peeling
I shared one of my head canons with Monkey-d-momo and then the next day it kind of spiralled out of control in my head, to the point where I had to leave my half-destroyed Animal Crossing island to come and write this out. So, this is for you, Momo!
Summary: Sanji's had never had an assistant before, but now, at least once a week, Nami's there to keep him company. Rating: K. 
This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 
Enjoy.
Sanji made a point not to think too deeply about his childhood before Baratie, but now he’s racking his brain in search for a time, any time, that he could ever remember having an assistant in the kitchen. Not other chefs that were working around him on their own dishes or bus boys or dish washers, someone by his side just to help him. Although, when he thought about it, back then he would have refused the help, with his ego far too proud as a fledging chef.
He spent a lot of time alone cooking and there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s what he was trained to do, and he enjoyed it. Enjoyed creating dishes that’ll fill empty stomachs and watching as delight bloomed across his crewmates face when they took their first bite. But now, as Nami hummed next to him, eyebrows drawn together in concentration as she stirred the sauce in the pot, he realised how much he liked having an assistant. How much he liked having the company.
It also helped that it was fantastic company. Nothing gets better than Nami-san.
The first time she’d walked in to offer help, he’d tried to persuade her to relax instead, in the kitchen of course because he’d never turn her away, but she hadn’t listened. She’d fixed him with a hard stare as his words rolled over her and held her hand out, waiting for a knife to help him peel potatoes.
That was a few weeks ago now, and he’s glad she didn’t listen to him. His kitchen is now filled with humming, quiet conversations or peaceful silences- with someone. It’s nice. It’s not every day, after all she’s the navigator, not the cook and she does have other responsibilities. But those little moments together, at least once per week now, made him start to notice the difference. Nothing bad, he still loved to cook but there’s no one peering over his shoulder to see what he’s doing or how he’s doing it (or asking for food- Luffy) or shooting him wonderfully smart remarks that bring a smile to his face or… well, he could go on all day.
They get along very well in those small moments together, when they’re not fighting for their lives or surrounded by the rest of the crew and it makes him happy. He got to see her truly relaxed, walls down, and their actions are almost domestic, and it made his head spin slightly. He tried not to think too much about that though when he’s dealing with sharp objects or high temperatures.
But he does wonder what spurred this on, the thought lingered in the back of his head. Her offer came completely out of the blue and they’d already been sailing together for so long, so naturally he wondered why. She’d never offered any explanation and he hadn’t asked, because why would he? He was thrilled to have time alone with her and to pass on his knowledge to someone who was so interested.
She hadn’t helped him tonight though, not that she said she would, mind you. Sometimes she’d mention in passing that she’d be there but other times she’d just appear, and it kept him on his toes.
After dinner though, as she put her plate on the side (just before he could get it for her), she left him with a quick, “See you later” and was gone. Maybe he was becoming too predictable because whilst dinner may be finished with, she knew he would occasionally prep ingredients for the next day and apparently, he’d have her company for that tonight without even breathing a word of it.
He couldn’t wait.
.
.
.
As much as he’d like to wait for her, that’s never how this worked. Sometimes she’d come later, depending on whether she got held up with something, so he always started, and she’d join in.
Tonight, he went to the toilet after organising the potatoes he’d need for the next day but on his short trip he didn’t catch sight of her. That wasn’t necessarily bad, but it could mean she’d been distracted with something. It was foolish, because he knew how this worked and he shouldn’t expect this from her, but he was slightly disappointed. He shook his head; he was being ridiculous.
Despite giving himself a talking to in the toilet, it didn’t stop his eyes from drifting to see if the orange haired navigator was around. He was sorely tempted to knock on the library door to offer her a drink, just to confirm it but he stopped his feet from wondering off course.
So when he pushed open the door to the kitchen, he couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping to stare at the sight of Nami already sat down on one of the stools, knife carefully peeling the potato in her hands.
So, she’d beaten him here, huh?
He didn’t get the chance to compose himself before she was looking up and her lips curled upwards, like she could read his thoughts.
“You’re slacking, Sanji-kun. I thought you’d abandoned me to peel potatoes all by myself,” she teased.
He smiled then. “Never, Nami-san. The day that happens I’d forfeit my own hands.”
She smiled back at him and they settled into comfortable silence as he sat on the stool opposite her, taking the knife she’d left out for him and grabbing a potato. There’s something relaxing about doing this. The same sweeps of the knife almost sent him into a trance and all the stress of the day bleeds from him as his mind wondered. He’d never found potato peeling a chore. It anything, he looked forward to the monotony of it.
He’s not sure how long they peel in the quiet of the kitchen, but he almost jumped as Nami started to quietly talk.
“The first time I offered to help, it was because I missed Bell-mére,” she said it softly and it should sound sad, but she sounded soft instead. “She used to get me peeling the potatoes when I had nothing to do or thought I’d studied for too long.”
Ah. Well, that answered one of Sanji’s questions. There was something quite special about not having to ask after the reason but being told instead. She wasn’t always very forthcoming about her childhood and he’d never blamed her; he hadn’t been either. It’s why he never enquired.
“You should have seen the first time I’d ever done it; you’d have turned in your grave. There was almost nothing left by the time it’d been peeled and I’d somehow managed to cut myself multiple times,” she continued, chuckling to herself and dropped a perfectly peeled potato into the steel bucket before moving onto the next one. “She hadn’t been angry though. Well, she had at my cut fingers, but she stopped what she was doing to show me how to peel the carrots next.”
“I’m not surprised she wasn’t angry. I can’t imagine being angry with you now, let alone when you were younger.” It was the truth; it was no secret that he was soft around children and he’d seen first-hand a young Nami- she was adorable. He’d have stood no chance.
Still doesn’t.
“What about you?” She asked tentatively, eyes flickering up to his, unsure about whether this was a topic that she should broach. That she could breach.
Sanji smiled lightly and answered with ease, his voice filled with fondness at the memory. “My Mum thought the world of whatever I made. Some of it was truly horrible, Nami-san, I’d had no training whatsoever apart from some tatty books and the opinions of mice.”
“I find that hard to believe- about being a horrible cook, that is. Feeding mice I’m totally on board with.”
He picked up another potato before he responded, “It’s true! There were pieces of eggshells in it, it was overcooked, yet also undercooked because I hadn’t set the oven properly.” There was a firm smile on his face though, despite the description he was giving.
“I sense this didn’t deter her,” she guessed, pausing the potato peeling as she waited for his response.
He laughed. “Not at all. She still boasted to the nurses and handmaids whenever she had the chance and when I was leaving, she’d tell me to bring some more next time.”
“Ah. So that’s where you get your kind heart from.” She nodded to herself, like she’d solved a piece of her own puzzle.
He tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t stop the blush that bloomed across his cheeks. Instead of responding to that, he decided to continue on.
“On the cruise ship I worked on before Baratie, I was passable at best, but definitely better than the rest of the chefs. The real wakeup call was when I got to Baratie. Zeff was horrified by the bad habits I’d picked up and spent all his time picking on me.”
“Like what?” At his blank look she clarified, “How did he pick on you?”
“Ragging on me in front of staff and customers. To be fair, I probably needed to be taken down a peg or too. I couldn’t be told back then. Oh, and that damned peg leg, hurt like hell,” he groaned, recalling the way Zeff had kicked him when he’d wanted to throw away fresh food. “The worst, though, was the nickname- little eggplant. That’ll haunt me to my dying day. He had no tact, the damn old man, and he’d call me it regardless of who was around. Even the regulars knew of it.”
“Fatherly love, then,” she summarised, an affectionate smile on her face.
Sanji laughed but nodded his head. “Unfortunately so.”
They continued on like that, trading stories back and forth from their childhood. Not always revolving around cooking in Nami’s case, but small things, like the time she’d convinced Nojiko to let her cut in a fringe and her sister had wound up with a mullet until it grew out or how Sanji had singed his hair trying to show off around the oven.
The pile of unpeeled potatoes started to dwindle as the bucket with peeled potatoes filled up. Sanji was so lost in conversation that he hadn’t noticed until they were both reaching in for the last potato and as they both look at each other and down to the last potato, he felt a competitive thrill go through him. He managed to snag the potato just before she could, but she didn’t look sour about it, so he took that as a sign to crack on.
There were no more potatoes to peel but Nami still stayed sitting with him.
“So, what made you stick around?” It was ballsy and he was risking scaring her off, but it’s the one thing she hadn’t freely given during their conversation and he really wanted to know. To finally scratch the itch of curiosity.
Nami doesn’t respond straight away, she fiddled with the knife in her hands and it’s only for a second, but it felt like a lifetime to Sanji. He was holding his breath, waiting for some form of reaction from her.
She breathed out and finally looked at him. “I realised I enjoyed spending time with you.”
That’s not the explanation he’d expected. At all.
He has to fight down the urge to sputter off nonsense, it would not win him her favour. “I enjoy spending time with you too.”
“I didn’t doubt that for a second,” she said, her voice playful.
There’s a clever smile on her face and as much as he enjoyed that, he wanted her to know he was serious. He enjoyed her company.
“I’m serious,” he hummed, not looking up from the final potato he’s peeling, and he might need to long this one out, just to keep himself busy, so he didn’t chicken out. “I’ve always enjoyed cooking, but you’ve only made it better with your company. I’ve never had an assistant before, but I’m glad it was you.”
Nami’s flushed and she looked like she was struggling on how to respond. He wondered if he’d gone too far. It’s not how he’d planned this evening to go and it’s clearly not what she’d intended either. Yet here they were.
“Because I’m a woman or…” She trailed off and the silent ‘because it’s me’ is left in the air, but they both know it’s there.  
She’s watching his face carefully and he doesn’t know what to make of that. It felt like he was balancing on a tight rope and any wrong answer will have him plummeting without a safety net to catch him. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable or put an end to their occasional kitchen activities together.
It almost sounded like a confession when he finally spoke, and he supposed it was.
“Because it’s you,” he said, his voice sure and face even.
The tension in the room increased tenfold and it felt like he needed to use one of the knifes to cut at it. It’s diffused instantly when Nami smiled softly at him and it sent his heart racing.
The next second she’s up on her feet, leaving their potato peeling bubble, like nothing happened. “We need to put these in water and into the fridge, right?”
“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly, stunned by the sudden shift. What had even just happened?
She walked into the kitchen, pulling out a much smaller container and filling it with water. She turned and raised an eyebrow as he’s still sitting there. He realised a beat later that she’s waiting for him to follow after her with the potatoes. Who was the professional chef here? He was on his feet in seconds before he could be prompted any further and they fall back into their normal pace, like nothing had happened.
… Had anything happened? He’s going to need some time alone to replay this scene and figure it out.
As soon as he’s done putting the potatoes away safely in the bottom of the fridge, ready for tomorrow, Nami’s done washing up the knives they’d used and then it’s just them, alone in the kitchen.
Nami’s leaning against the kitchen unit, arms folded and looking at him expectantly, because she doesn’t look like she’s leaving anytime soon. It made him nervous and he resisted the urge to play with his hands.
“Thank you for your help, Nami-san,” he said gratefully, and he really meant it. He hoped she knew that, that it came across.
“Anytime, Sanji-kun.” She pushed away from the counter to walk towards him and he’s frozen, watching her get closer and closer until he had to tilt his head down to keep looking at her face.
Her hands are on his tie and he realised after a beat that she’s adjusting it. He’d loosened it earlier, like he always did this late at night and she knew that too. He wondered if this was an excuse to touch him, but he squashed that thought down as quickly as it appeared. Maybe it just looked weird.
Her hands are warm and as she played with his tie, they brush against his chest and it sent his heart into fits.
When she looked up at him, seemingly happy with the end result, and she’s so close that he could count the fair freckles that litter her nose if he wanted to. And he really wanted to, but he’s distracted by the way her eyes are searching his. She looked expectant and he didn’t know what to do with that. Or what she wanted.
Nami lingered, her hands still clasping his tie lightly but resting against his chest idly and he’s stopped breathing because it’s all slightly overwhelming and he didn’t want the moment to break before he figured out what he’s supposed to be doing. The voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to ‘make a move, you idiot’, but he can’t bring himself to act on it. What if he’s wrong? What if he’s building this up to be something bigger than it actually is?
There’s another long moment where he can practically feel her breath on his face before she’s pulling away and he’s instantly regretting not acting on what the voice had told him because he felt like he’d just missed his moment.
The smirk on her face made him wonder if that’s not the case at all.
She released his tie and patted his chest before taking a step back. He missed the closeness already.
“Goodnight, Sanji,” she said lowly and then she’s turning around, walking towards the door.
The door swung closed behind her and for the first time in hours, he’s left alone in the kitchen. The scent of her perfume is still under his nose and the skin under his shirt burned from where she’d touched him.
He’s not sure what’s just happened. From the atmosphere to her new behaviour, he’s left reeling trying to catch up. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but this seemed to be a new development… towards something.
But right now, it’s late and his brains just turned to mush, so he’s not figuring it out now. He just hoped he could get his mind to settle down enough that he’d be able to actually sleep.
He flicked the kitchen light off behind him.
------------------------------------------
So. The tiny little drabble this was supposed to be has now turned into a two part-er. I messaged Momo when I’d almost finished writing the first part and gave her two possible endings to choose from when this was originally a one-shot. Momo picked one and my brain betrayed me (and my other WIPs) by going ‘do both’. So here we are.
The second part is almost finished- I’m aiming for it to be up in a week max.
Please excuse any errors.
Thanks for reading.
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feelingfredly · 4 years ago
Text
Just Remember I Love You
Summary:
Stiles pulled up the playlists and took pictures of them... as he scrolled through, he saw one labeled M&D's song and he was like, Who's M? Derek and someone had a song?   Stiles can't stand the thought of Derek and some stranger having a song. And a cheesy 70's love song at that!
Talia loved music. She wasn't a great singer but was always humming and singing and dancing around. She and her husband met at a disco night, of all things, and they were often seen dancing to a scratchy radio in the kitchen late at night after the kids were supposed to be in bed.
There was a song called Just Remember I Love You that she loved. It was "their song" because while wolf life was nice, it wasn't perfect and damn if it wouldn't be better sometimes if there were wolf antidepressants because even Alpha wolves get the blues, and when things were more than she could bear, Paul, her husband, would sing it to her.
After the pups came along Laura heard daddy singing it to mommy and one day when she was sad she came and demanded the "make it better song" so, Talia sang it to her as they danced around the kitchen and it made everything better.
After that, it was the thing to do when someone had hurt feelings, or a broken heart, or was stressed at school--someone would sing Just remember I love you, and it'll be alright... Just remember I love you, more than I can say.
After the fire, Laura tried to sing it to Derek and they both fell apart because nothing was ever going to be alright again.
They listened to other songs together, but not that one...  never that one
Time passed until one day Stiles Stilinski let himself into Derek's loft. The wolf was puttering around the kitchen with his battered old smart phone in a coffee cup, letting the cup act as a sound box so there was this echoey music drifting through the loft and Stiles was surprised because this was Camaro guy,  with his scruff and leather jacket, listening to 70's soft rock? nah...  that's just nuts, dude. But, before he can say anything, Derek was scrambling to turn the phone off and practically ripped Stiles's head off for just barging in without calling first or at least knocking.
A couple months later Stiles was sidelined with a jacked-up knee and was sitting in the Camaro while the others were fighting the MOTW right over there and he was bored and antsy and freaking out, so he poked through everything in the car and there was Derek's phone, so thank God he could at least listen to music or something while his friends were maybe getting eviscerated and he couldn't do anything, and there are only two playlists on the damn thing--of course Derek doesn't have something as useful as Spotify--and one of them was your typical 00's angry music, and the other...   was fucking yacht rock, man.
So, when Derek and Isaac pile back in the car Stiles is ramped up on fear and relief, full of asshol-itude and was like, "You need to join the modern age, Sourwolf... The youngest song on your phone can legally drink." and Derek pushed back with, "What, you jealous because you're still getting by on a lousy fake I.D. and All-Star gets laid more than you do?"
But Derek takes the phone and shoves it into his pocket like it's something precious...  and Stiles, who is an asshole, but not a stupid asshole, realized that there was something important on that phone.
Derek never took it into fights.
Derek never put it anywhere that it could get hurt.
Derek had another fucking phone.
so, what's the deal with that one?
He can't let the idea go--it eats at him.  Why the two phones?  Why the freaking beat up second-gen piece of crap that should have been put out to pasture years ago?
So, the next time he was alone and saw the phone he grabbed it--the sucker doesn't even have a lock screen--and he called himself.  At least that way he can get the number, right?  But it didn’t come up as Derek Hale on his caller ID.  It came up as Laura Hale.
Which made a strange sort of sense.  If it was Laura's phone, he'd keep it for sentimental purposes, right?  Holy fuck, the dude's been paying for his sister's phone the whole time, keeping some little piece of her alive.  There are probably messages on that fucker from before the fire.
He's more careful about the phone after that.
He didn't stop watching, though.  He popped into the loft unannounced more often.  Offered to go make coffee for anyone--everyone--so he could get a little alone time with the phone.
He finally got it one day when Derek was in the shower, so covered in nixie guts that he didn't stop on the way up to grab it like he normally did, and Stiles pulled up the playlists and took pictures of them...  and as he scrolled through, he saw one labeled M&D's song and he was like, Who's M?  Derek and someone had a song?
It hit him, harder than he could admit comfortably. He knew about Paige, and Kate, and Jennifer, and even Braeden, because...  well, they all knew about them, but there's an M now...  someone Derek cared enough about to have a song with, and fuck, Derek wasn't supposed to be a romantic...  Stiles was a romantic.  Stiles wanted to woo someone with flowers and candlelight dinners and in-jokes and a song they could play at their wedding. Derek's just distance and angry eyebrows and that little bit of respect that leaked through occasionally, and gratitude, because fuck, yeah, that's what everyone wanted from the hottest thing they've ever seen, gratitude. He'd pick the slamming up against things over the fucking gratitude every damn day because Derek should know that he didn't got to bat for him because he wanted thanks, he did it because he cared for the bitter bastard, okay?  At least when he was angry he looked alive, invested, and he was LOOKING AT STILES and actually seeing him.
Yeah, so bad attention was better than no attention, sue him.
Later when he was alone, he pulled up Spotify and loaded the song, and well...  it wasn't what he expected at all.  
 When there's so much trouble that you wanna cry
The world has crumbled and you don't know why
When your hopes are fading and they can't be found
Dreams have left you waiting, friends have let you down
 He listened to the song three times in a row, and by halfway through the third he was wiping away tears, because fuck that's...  well, that was a lot.
"It was my mom and dad's song."
The window--the fucking window--was open, and Stiles had been so wrapped up in the song that he hadn't heard Derek and his super-secret wolfy breaking and entering. Stiles was instantly up and deflecting--he didn't mean to pry (he totally did) and what was Derek doing there, and didn't he ever knock, and fuck use the door, and everything he'd ever said when one of the wolves had broken in while he was jerking off, but somehow being caught listening to this seemed even more personal to him.
He couldn't imagine how Derek felt
Derek just stared at him as he stormed and when he wound down and scrubbed the evidence of tears away Stiles just sagged under the scrutiny. "I'm sorry.  I didn't know.  I just...  I wanted..."
"You wanted to know.” Derek said, less antagonism in his voice than he had a right to. “You always want to know.  That's sort of Stiles distilled."
They stared at each other for a little before Stiles waded in with an apology.  He at least owed the wolf that much. "I didn't mean to stir up bad memories, Der.  I am sorry."
Derek looked a little distant, like his mind wasn't actually there in the moment, and Stiles bet he looked a lot like that when he was thinking about his mom.
"Not bad,” he said finally. “Just hard sometimes.  Good memories, though.  It's why I can't let that--" he waved at the computer that was still playing the song on loop--"go."
Stiles nodded. "I get that. I feel that way about my mom's recipes.  I can't cook them for dad, but I'll bake the cookies or the bread and remember cooking with her, and then end up giving the stuff away.  Mr. Abernathy next door loves it when I get sentimental."
They sat like that for a while until the quiet got to be too much and Derek took off again, leaving Stiles with a little bit more knowledge about the older man, and a lot to think about.
He called Cora the next day. She cried when he told her what happened, and when he apologized to another Hale for stirring things up she yelled at him for hurting her brother, and yelled at the Universe a little, and then cried again as she explained the significance of the song. When she calmed down she asked him to email her the playlist because she was too young to remember the names of the songs and she wanted to listen to them again, and if they cried a little more at that, well neither of them was going to tell anyone.
But… now he knew.  He knew what the song meant, what it was for, and he had a plan.  It might not be a great plan, but hell, he's had worse.
He didn’t make a move for weeks.  He wasn't stupid, and he knew Derek wasn’t either.
He started by playing some 70's music around the house--even getting a laugh out of his dad as he busted out "Do the hustle!" in the kitchen one day as he danced around making a casserole for pack night.
"Your mom and I used to go out dancing all the time.” The sheriff actually smiled at the memory. “She could dance up a storm.  You get that from her."
And just like that Stiles had another thing to thank Derek for....
Finally, it was time. He'd been spending more time with the wolf, his spark finding an anchor in the alpha, and he could feel it developing into something like a real pack bond.  Derek clearly felt it as well, his shoulders relaxing every time Stiles would get close enough for him to bump against him, subtly scenting his new packmate.
Then it wasn't so subtle. A hand on the head, Stiles rubbing Derek's shoulder, a scruff of the back of the neck...  and time.  Sitting. Talking. Snarking.  But time spent together, alone or with the others, but always together.
And then it was his birthday.  21. Finally legal in all the ways, and finally ready to make that last leap of faith.  The ladies at Jungle were thrilled to help, and when everyone asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday, he said "pack night at the club--no excuses" and they gave in, because as much as he was an asshole, he was their asshole
They got there, dressed in their club gear and black leather coats, and Stiles pulled up in his Jeep and rolled out wearing a shirt unbuttoned to his navel that showcased his toned torso, a big gold pendant he'd enchanted the month before for a protection spell but that looked like one of the terrible 70's zodiac sign necklaces, and skin tight pants that flared out into truly terrible bell bottoms. "Oh, didn't I tell you?  It's a theme night!  Disco, Babies!  And I'm the Dancing Queen!"
The pack groaned and then laughed, following the nutcase they'd adopted into the club, listening to the thrum of the music and saying, "Fuck it." before heading to the bar for drinks that their spark would add a little kick to so they could feel a buzz for the night.
Derek gave him a long look, and then another, but just sighed and nodded as Stiles pulled him out onto the packed dance floor.
"Thanks for coming, Sourwolf."  He made the appropriate noises, and Derek swayed against him, surprisingly--or not surprisingly, the dude was physicality embodied--a good dancer, and not shy with the hips once he got going.
"Happy Birthday, Stiles," he said, bending down to speak directly into the spark’s ear, "this is the only gift you're getting."
Stiles looked at him from under his lashes and smiled. "It's the only thing I wanted, Der. Really."
They finished their dance and then his best Lady of the Jungle, Brianna Cracker, walked up to the microphone--"We have a special birthday boy in our midst tonight--hey there Little Red, looking good!--"  the crowd cheered and Stiles wriggled around in Derek's hold to look at the stage, flailing his arms a little at the attention.
She went on, "He had a special request so he could dance with his boo--or his boo-to-be if he doesn't fuck this up tonight--so everyone wrap their arms around their special someone's and get ready for something slow and sweet.  Happy Birthday, Red!  We love you!"
And then… the song played.
Derek froze, so like a deer in headlights that Stiles had to bite his lips not to make a joke, but now wasn't the time for jokes.  He held out his hand hopefully, and Derek finally thawed enough to take it, wrapping Stiles in an almost painfully tight hug.
"Give me a chance, Sourwolf?" Stiles asked quietly. He felt Derek's head nod once against his neck, and Stiles felt a knot in his gut unravel.  
It was going to be alright.
 Notes: This fic owes its existence to Sirius XM's Yacht Rock Radio, and Firefall's amazing 70's classic, Just Remember I Love You.
"Just Remember I Love You" by Firefall
When it all goes crazy and the thrill is gone The days get rainy and the nights get long When you get that feelin' you were born to lose Staring at your ceiling thinkin' of your blues
When there's so much trouble that you wanna cry The world has crumbled and you don't know why When your hopes are fading and they can't be found Dreams have left you waiting, friends have let you down
Just remember I love you And it'll be alright Just remember I love you More than I can say Maybe then your blues will fade away
When you need a lover and you're down so low Start to wonder, but you never know When it feels like sorrow is your only friend Knowing that tomorrow you'll feel this way again
When the blues come callin' at the break of dawn Rain keeps fallin', but the rainbow's gone When you feel like crying but the tears won't come When your dreams are dyin', when you're on the run
Just remember I love you And it'll be alright Just remember I love you More than I can say Just remember I love you And it'll be alright It'll be alright It'll be alright It'll be alright
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maximum118 · 4 years ago
Text
Sitcom
Me- I decided to post in school
Heisu- WOMAN WHY.
Me- Heisu. Hush
Zen- leans in* Sooo I found a locked door...
Me- snaps head to her* did you open it?
Zen- Maybe...*Glances to the destruction behind her* 
Me- YOU DID!? WHY?!
Zen- It said “Do open!”
Me- IT SAID “DO /N O T/ OPEN!!!” 
Zen- Oh...heheh...whoops...
Me- GET HER BACK IN THE ROOM DAMMIT!!
Zen- But she-
Me- ZEN!!!
Zen- OK DAMN!! 
Episode 2- New Beginnings pt. 2
Episode 1 / Episode 2 (You here) / Chapter 4
           2 hours had passed when Kouten left the nest of the emochickens. He was just jumping on the rooftops trying to find minor heroes to rid of in the new area. If his younger set of twin siblings don't get in the way, that is. 
           Kouten looks behind him where Zen, also known as Retribution, was following him. He sighs. "Retribution. Why are you here?" he asks. Retribution pouts. "Can't a sister who is worried for elder brother follow him around?" she asks. 
           "No, she cannot because she might kill someone who isn't a hero and then land both of them in jail." He says lightly, pushing her away. 
           Archangel lands next to Retribution. "Then maybe the elder brother should not be a villain." He says—retribution snickers. Kouten pulls out a water bottle and aims it at Retribution. "Don't make me use this." He says. 
           Retribution hisses and hides behind Archangel. Kouten facepalms and smells a faint odor of a dead body. 
           "What the…" mumbles Kouten as he peeks over the building. He notices a dead body, "Uh. Archangel, You're a vigilante, right…?".
           Archangel arches his eyebrow and checks, almost retching, "OH, THAT'S DISGUSTING." He shouts. Retribution leans over. "Ooo, dead body. Let's burn it!" says Retribution taking some fire from her wings. 
           "Retribution, Kou no." 
           "Retribution, Kou yes." 
           "No."
           "Yes."
           "No. Can we not do this, you two?" asks Archangel as he looks at his twin and elder brother. 
           "But cremation…." Says Retribution as she puts her wings out. 
           "Actually, I'm in with cremation. I gotta satisfy my bloodlust." Says Kouten, Archangel facepalms. Peaking through the gaps in his fingers, Archangel recognized something in the dark. A light, moving towards the body. 
           The trio quietly looks from above. A black hooded person with a lantern tail stood over the body. 
           "Are they a hero?" whispers Zen to her brothers. Kouten looks at Archangel.
           "Not all heroes know vigilantes Kouten." Whispers Archangel. 
           Kouten shifts his gaze over to the person. The person kneels and opens the lantern top. Allowing something to light up the inside of the lantern. After the person closed the top, Kouten jumps down to the person. 
           The person turns to Kouten, briefly showing ginger hair and a mask. Kouten walks up to them. "Listen, Hero. I'll give you 5 seconds to run before scorch ya." He says. 
           The person tilts their head, gazing at Kouten. "Hero…? I am not a hero…" he says softly. 
           "Wait…you aren't a hero? Then are you a villain? If that's the case, Scat!" 
           "I am neither a villain. I am my own thing. I will not leave just so another can kill more."
           Kouten stares dumbfounded at the person. "So you are a hero?" he asks. 
           "…I am a person with morals and a person who senses you've been through something…years ago…" 
           "What..?? No, I haven't!" 
           The person walks closer to him, pointing to the scar on Kouten's cheek. 
           "that wound isn't from birth. Something truly happened to you."
           Kouten doesn't say anything as he looks down. From what he can see, the person was up to Kouten's chest. Kouten also noticed ginger hair with dyed black ends.
           "I also sense…you did have a heart of a hero once…" 
           Kouten stumbles back. "What are you…" he says, looking at them.
           "I am a human with a lantern tail and some skills." The person answers. 
           "…You don't sound human… you're reading my past like… it's nothing…" 
           The person giggles as they did some parkour-up metal balconies. Landing on the opposite building of where Retribution and Archangel were. The person stares down at Kouten. "Oh, I suggest leaving before the police come, villain." They say as they run on the rooftops away. 
           Kouten hears sirens and quickly gets up to his siblings. He looks to Archangel. "Better act that you came here." He says as he and Retribution leave the scene.
           Retribution looks at Kouten "what were you and the person talking about?" She asks. 
           "…they were able to read my past. Also, know I was a hero once." He answers, looking away.
           "Are we going to run into them more often?" 
           "For all of us? Rarely. For just me? Probably…" 
           "What do you mean?"
           "They seemed interested in me when they warned me to leave quickly before the police get there." 
           "So they might be following you after tonight?" 
           "Possibly. No one else told any villains before to leave the scene. They did. Either they're interested in me, they don't have a side, or they have a villainous family." 
           "Speaking of sides…did you find out if they're an ally? Or an enemy?"
           "They answered that they're a person of morals."
           Retribution stops flying and lands. "So…hero?" she asks.
           Kouten stops running and shakes his head. "Some villains have morals too. I think they're…neutral…" he answers. 
           "I'll trust your choice. For now, I found some minor heroes." Says Retribution smirking, Kouten smirks with her 
"about. Fuckin. Time."
           ~Next morning ~
           Kouten, Zen, and Hato came home at 3 am and passed the fuck out. That is until...
           Haruki bursts into Kouten's room at 6:30 am. "WAKKKKEEE UPPPP BREAKFAST TIME BROTHA!" he shouts, jumping on Kouten. 
           "OWWWW!!!!" Shouts kouten, looking at his adorable brother. 
           "Haruki! Go wake up, Sai!" says Kouten. Haruki Innocently smiles. 
           "but Sai told me to wake up you, Z, and Hato!" 
           ". . .SAIIII! SCREW YOU!" 
           Sai walks past Kouten's room door. "Told you not to stay up too late." He says, entering Hato's room. 
           "hato. Wake up. Hei can't wake Zen up." He says, shaking Hato. 
           Hato groans and grabs his phone, and plays an American song called "Worth it" by Fifth harmony. 
           Sai raises an eyebrow in confusion and then hears shouting from Zen's room-
           "GIVE IT TO MEH I'M WORTH IT. BABY, I'M WORTH IT! UH-HUH, I'M WORTH IT. GIMMIE, GIMMIE I'M WORTH IT!" 
           Sai blinks at the shouting then looks to Hato, who is currently half asleep. 
           "How in the world-"
           "Don't question it." Says Hato going into his mini-fridge. Pulling out two pinkie mice and placing them in his snake's tank. 
           "You just have frozen mice in your mini-fridge?" 
           "The snake gotta eat something, or it's eating Z. Toasted chicken." 
           Zen leans in "wait. You would feed me to your snake?" she asks.
           "If I run out of mice, yes. Either you, Kou or Satori. Peace and quiet then." 
           Zen gasps, "DAMN YOU! YOU TRAITOR!" She shouts. Hato gives her a look. 
           "you said yourself when you had scorpions, if you didn't have any food, you'll poison one of us. Guess who then squashed them..his name starts with a D." 
           Zen looks down "hey, Kouten, and you shouldn't have snitched!" She says. Sai looks at Zen. 
           "YOU HAD PET SCORPIONS!?" he shouts. Zen looks at him.
           "Currently, I have two female long-tailed chinchillas, both babies. One's name is Lechuza. She is more mischievous. The other, Adelita, is quieter and shyer." 
           Hato gets an idea and smirks. "Chinchillas?" he asks. Zen panics and runs to her room screaming, "DON'T TOUCH MY BABIES!!"
           Back with Kouten, who grabbing food for Haruki and gets ready for his day. Brushing his untamed hair, he looks out the bathroom where Sai is dragging Hato and somehow Zen to the kitchen. 
           "Hey, did the moving truck bring my bike here yet?" Asks Kouten. Sai looks over to Kouten. "Should be in the garage. You got to get going?" asks Sai. 
           Kouten shows a message from his modeling agency "Yup. A new designer wants me to model. I won't be in the office today anyways." Explains Kouten. Sai nods, gently pushing the 23 yr old twin set in the kitchen.
           "Alright, be safe. No killing either. Remember L is lobby! G is garage!" Says Sai as he gives Kouten a look. Going to Riku's and Satori's room to wake them up.
           Kouten rolls his eyes and grabs his keys and helmet. "See ya, Kou!" says Haruki as Kouten smiles leaving the penthouse to the elevator, pressing G to head to the garage. After stopping a few floors where people enter the elevator recognizing him from his TV appearances and modeling. Some asking for autographs, others pictures, and some with questions like "Are you with someone?", "How is your life with the former number 2 hero, Hawks?" or something else entirely strange. 
           Kouten looks around. When his eyes land on a red and black bike. 
           "Ah, hello, baby. Good to see you have no scratches." He says, wiping it down. "No dust either…" he mumbles. Getting on the bike placing his helmet on, he gets moving.
           ~Later at a cafe~ 
           Kouten removes his helmet and begins fixing his hair. "Ugh…stupid dad genes." Mumbles Kouten.
           He enters the cozy café in front of him. He was in the center of the city, a lively place where many shops were around. Upon entering, he got a text from his manager saying he's running late. Kouten sighs and thinks about getting a coffee.
           Looking at the menu, he waits in line. Once it was his turn, he ordered a coffee and waited at the end of the counter. After waiting a few minutes, the barista seeming bored and pushed two drinks, not even saying the names. 
           Kouten rolls his eyes fine bitch, so I won't fight you mainly for plot convince thinks Kouten and goes to grab one when he touched another's. Startled, he quickly retracted his hand and looks at the person next to him.
           "I am sorry-"Kouten cuts himself off. Staring at what he believes is male. The man had semi-tanned skin and lavender eyes. Along with that, he had a yellow crescent moon shape with two navy stars shapes near the moon on his left cheek. What Kouten noticed was the ginger hair with black dyed ends. Then the lantern tail, Remembering from the person last night.
           Kouten was breathless. He looks away, grabbing the other drink. A faint blush on his cheeks. "Sorry…I didn't know you also ordered coffee." Says Kouten. 
           "I didn't…I ordered hot tea…" says the male. Kouten looks at the cup he's currently holding and noticing the characters "Ei" (Crystal) and "ta" (gentle can be mean big/blessed. I prefer Gentle/blessed) and the characters spelling out Inoue. Kouten becomes embarrassed "here. This is yours then." He says, handing the cup to the male, Inoue Eita.
           Eita blushes and takes the cup. He then pushes the 1st  cup to Kouten. Quickly leaving to meet a black-haired purple-eyed male. Kouten watches as the two walk-offs from the café. After the duo wasn't in view, Kouten sits down and thinks I should've invited him to chat with me. He thinks. 
           Meanwhile, with Eita, the male next to Eita, smiling, looks to him. "So you met a celebrity?" he asks.
           "He was a celebrity?" Asks Eita glancing at the man.
           The male sweatdrops, "You, sir, are going to get killed one day." He says.
           "I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me, Hotaru..." 
           The male, Hotaru, smiles more "It's Hiroshi in the daytime. Plus, you're useful to me. I got to have a proper fortune to see if I can get away with murder."  
           Eita looks down and looks to his tail, glowing faintly …Did he not see who I am? Or did he notice and not say? A chuckle escapes his throat Todoroki Kouten…you…interest me…He thinks. He looks to Hotaru as he chats up random people. Potential victims to kill, more lives needlessly killed.
           Eita thinks about 3 months ahead of now, a circus with some old friends is coming to the city. Eita looks at the sky. It'll be nice to see them again…Thinks Eita with a smile.
           Back with Kouten, he continues to wait for his manager. As another bright day is full of unexpected things begins in this world of new beginnings. 
           The barista, leaving for the day with her friend. The friend looks at her. "You are literally planning soft angst?" They say.
           The barista snickers, "I might. Truthfully the readers get a slow burn romance/slice of life for this." 
           "So maybe. You are evil." 
           "Am not. I just wanna play around with a crack head family and hopefully play with people's emotions expecting two of the main characters to kiss."
           "Fucker." 
           "oh, hush. The main couple wouldn't have met if I didn't help." 
           "Damn. Your right. Also, fuck you. Go update RTS and SFU." 
           "I WILL. Damn! When I feel like it."
"MAXI!" 
"OH, FINE I 
WILL DAMMIT."
Saisho/Sai belongs to  @ulti-mal
Kouten belongs to @hairuko
Hato belongs to @juniperarts
Satori belongs to @fioresacros
Haruki belongs to @/_falyy on twitter
Riku & Hotaru to @diizaren
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the-innefable-idiot · 5 years ago
Text
welcome home
Hello yall!!!
This is my 3k fic based on the fic "another part of me could be you" by @spaceskam. I honestly don't know how to classify this, but you can consider a homage (?) to her work.
This pretty much a fanfic of a fanfic... yeah. I know.
Every feedback is welcome, both for plot/characterization and grammar/ponctuation. English is not my first language, so I usually right phrases that only make perfect sense to me. I want your reading to be as enjoyable as possible! :D
Please, enjoy!
Also on AO3.
-
Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here
Even if it takes all night or a hundred years
Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near
Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear
(Lovely, Billie Eilish feat. Khalid)
Michael almost looses Alex for the second time, and now je realises it's time for him to get his act together. He just wasn't expecting all the love and support he got.
Home is a concept that Michael never quite understood. Sure, he lived in many houses, but the goodbyes were never emotional. He knows that home is not the structure, but the feelings attached to some place, something or someone. Whenever he thought of home, blurred memories from outer space came to mind. The feeling of belonging was strong, even if he couldn’t attach an image to it. 
Michael used to spend hours fantasizing on how to turn a house into a home. A collection of mugs nicely displayed in the dining room. Vinyls and cds on one shelf and books on another, with a nice record player nearby. Some musical instruments considered weird by western standards. The walls covered with pictures of people and places he loved alongside posters of movies and bands he enjoyed. Had he grown up in a nice home, he would probably have been those kids with a camera in hand at all times, capturing moments around him.
Once he knew he was so, but so close to understand the meaning of home. He was thinking about buying a camera literally moments before his hand was shattered by a psychopath. Since then he swore to never raise his hopes. The day drinking and the bar fighting were the ways he made sure to never expect anything from anyone. Alex symbolized everything he wanted to have, but couldn’t, so he was determined to go for a simpler route. 
With Maria things were nice. A little bit more complicated than he expected, but still nice. Sure, she wouldn't be moving to the airstream anytime soon, but the relationship was nice. Her place has a few of his things: a toothbrush, a few pieces of clothing neatly folded in one corner of a drawer, a few bottles of beer and whiskey, a handful of books and even some mechanical tools he forgot to take back to his place. Michael never enjoyed making Maria to spend the night at the airstream, first because the overall place was tiny and uncomfortable, and second because her house had the whole atmosphere he dreamt about.
It was clear the effort they were putting into the relationship. Maybe a bit too much of an effort, some might say. As the time passed, everyone close to them noticed how the smiles between them stopped reaching their eyes. Michael would never admit it, but Alex being kidnapped only sped up the inevitable.
Michael knew something bad happened before Forrest came to him in the middle of a panic attack. He had this prickling feeling on his neck that something was just not right since he opened his eyes that morning. Now he was gripping the steering wheel of his truck and focusing on not letting his powers break something. The adrenalin rush being the only thing keeping him from having a mental breakdown. Actually, filling in Forrest with the whole alien thing was a great distraction because of the many details and intricate history he had to cover. Maybe Forrest noticed it and kept asking questions to ground Michael to the task at hand. Maybe Michael will find a way to subtly thank him later for that. Just maybe.
After finding a path of bodies that lead to a bleeding Alex on the floor, Michael felt like breathing for the first time that day. The relief was short, however, and the moment he saw the deadly wound (gun? Knife? Oh God it was bad) he knew what he should do. Forrest was holding an unconscious Alex on his arms. Somehow he managed to tear apart the bloodied shirt to ease the access to the wound (thanks Forrest, again). Michael's healing powers were shit, and he knew he wouldn't be able to heal Alex completely, but damn him if he weren't going to die trying.
The last thing he clearly remembers is the glow on his hands. He has flashes of walking to the car and drinking acetone. He was 75% sure he didn't hallucinate Kyle being there to check up on Alex. Did Alex really ask to sleep by his side? Was Forrest still there? Who knew? Definitely not him.
The next day Michael woke up at noon, still not sure if he was indeed in bed with those two guys or if it was just his brain revenging him after almost melting it the night before. Alex was still too drugged up for Michael to feel anything concrete from the handprint, but only the fact everyone was breathing was enough to calm him down.
This moment of silence between the three of them only gave Michael the reassurance to set things right with Maria. He couldn't keep marinating her in a below-average relationship just so he could prove a point. Maria deserved more than he could give her.
-------
The break-up was... complex. He could see jealousy and suspicion in her body language, and nothing Michael said changed that. Deep down she always new the possibility of Michael going back to Alex, but she was willing to try anyway. She was making an effort not to be too angry, after all she knew her friend had a past with the cowboy but still wanted to try a relationship. She avoided Alex for a while, scared for his reaction, but when the confrontation happened, she was met with nothing but understanding. She’ll never know how Alex could be so calm back then, because right now this fucking hurt and she wanted to punch something.
Moments before he left, Maria stopped him, asking him the one thing he didn't want to answer.
"Why are you choosing him now, Michael?" She asked while putting too much force on drying a cup of glass. "The other day he was stabbed, and you stayed for me. So, what changed? Definitely not Alex almost dying"
"I don't... know." He hesitated. Who was he kidding, this was their break-up and she deserved the truth, even if it meant not crossing her path ever again. "I think that nothing changed, actually. I really believed we had a chance at being happy together, you and I, and I was willing to try. I was so focused on choosing you over him every time that in that morning it was more of an autopilot choice. I didn't follow my heart because I’ve programmed myself to choose you." He could feel his voice cracking. The words were too painful even to him, but once he started he couldn't stop.
"God, Michael" she put the glass down hard, the only reason for not breaking being its thickness. "I am angry, and sad, and I don't want to see you for a while, but..." she looked at him, her voice going a bit soft for her next words "what we had was exhausting. I've been trying to pinpoint the moment where we turned the relationship into an obligation. Now I see it’s been like this since the beginning, but we couldn’t keep the act for too long." 
"I'm sorry, Deluca."
"I'm sorry too." She turned her back on him to organize the bottles on the shelf. "Just... stay away for a while, yes? I need to clear my head."
Michael tipped his cowboy hat and left without saying a word. Mixed with the sadness was a sense of relief. Now Deluca was free from him, free to search for someone who will wholeheartedly love her the way she deserved. He didn’t regret being with her, they took a shot and failed, but that’s life. At least they know they tried. His regret was on his actions. Maybe if he’d been more honest since the beginning, the end would’ve been different. 
-------
Alex was still asleep when Michael came back to the cabin. The handprint feeling was still fuzzy, so good thing Alex didn't feel all the whirlwind of emotions from the conversation with Maria. Michael had to drive around for a few hours after leaving the Wild Pony just to clear his head. The first thing he noticed when entering the cabin was Forrest in the kitchen, probably cooking something for Alex.
"Alex said, and I quote, you like your coffee like you like your men and women: strong and sweet. Is that right?" Forrest asked without taking his eyes from the stove. "I’m cooking everyone’s favourite because... well... because I can, but also because we deserve it. Alex and I ate half an hour ago, but gimme five minutes and your food will be ready."
Michal was shocked. One thing was Alex telling Forrest what Michael liked to eat and drink, another thing was for Forrest to get out of his way to just cook it. Why would he do that, specially considering he was the ex in the equation? 
"Michael, I barely know you and I can almost feel you overthinking this. Before Alex went back to take a nap he told me you were getting near the cabin and that I should start cooking. Which reminded me, later you both must explain the whole handprint thing for me. I’m still digesting the whole alien superpower thing, but I want to know more" Michael could hear Forrest's smile in his voice. Forrest was relieved and comfortable so his entire body acted like it. 
"Michael. Sit."
And he sat on the table without thinking twice. Sure, the warmth he was feeling towards Forrest was 100% from Alex because of the handprint, but damn this pocket-size historian for making it way too easy to like him.
Forrest put the meal on the table and sat near him. Michael only realised he was starving the moment he took the first bite, and in less than 10 minutes all the food was gone. The coffee was in a nice mug with the Slipknot logo on it, probably Forrest’s, because he knew Alex inclined towards the more emo bands.
As he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, Forrest sat on the couch. Michael knew he should leave and let Forrest take care of Alex, but he ended up sitting by the historian's side. He simply didn't want to go.
"Michael..." Forrest started, with his voice soft and his eyes even softer. "You are probably confused by your feelings because of the handprint. Right now you are feeling what Alex feels, so we can only have this full conversation once you are out of Alex's system."
Michael had to take a sip of his coffee just to do something with his hands. In his mind he was bracing himself for the final blow that would destroy him. Forrest was going to order him to leave them alone and never go back.
"Alex told me about your history, and I am so sorry for all the trauma you went through, and I am not saying only your hand.”
Oh, so Forrest knew about that.
“The three of us... we grew up thinking that love and pain are intertwined, you can only love something if you suffer for it." Forrest grabbed Michael's hands, forcing Michael to keep eye contact. "It took me and Alex years and a literal war to understand that love is not painful. It’s hard to believe, both at home or in a battlefield, and even to this day I wake up with doubts.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Michael could see Forrest tensing up, an indication that the next words were hard for him to say out loud. 
“Maybe my family is right and being gay is a punishment, and I deserve to be loveless and miserable for the rest of my life. When you hear you’re not worthy enough times, you start believing in it. Some days nothing, and I mean nothing, can change my mind."
Forrest noticed Michael was getting uncomfortable, and let go of his hands. Both took a sip of their drinks before Forrest sighed, and Michael could see the sadness behind his eyes. A sadness he knew all too well, one that everyone carries but few could hide well. It was a sadness that put doubt in people's heart and turned their self-worth into smoke. Michael wanted to hold Forrest and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but it was probably Alex' influence.
"Alex told me you grew up in the system, the next family worse than the last. I’ve worked with endangered youth, kids with similar stories, and I know how ugly it can get.”
Michael tensed up even more, a reflex that Forrest mistook for annoyance or anger. Michael tried his best to relax, to show Forrest it wasn’t him. It was an unconscious reaction from years of abuse. The historian hesitated for a moment, but then continued.
“What I’m saying is that... it was hard for me to learn that suffering for love ain't romantic or cute. Alex and I want to help you get out of this destructive path you are going through, but we need to start things right. No lies, no secrets, and specially no shame." Forrest grabbed Michael's hand again, but this time Michael was more comfortable. "I want you both to be happy, even if it means me getting out of the picture eventually." As a reflex, Michael tightened his hand, a silent 'no' for the possibility. Forrest smiled and let his thumb caressed the back of Michael's hand.
"I know you can't make any decision right now. First because you just broke up with a long-term friend, and second because of the handprint. Much of your feelings are from Alex, so you are biased. But..." He stopped to bring Michael hands to his lips, and Forrest kissed them lightly with a hint of a smile "once we settle down, we can try something different.”
Michael was taken by surprise. He ran many scenarios in his head, and none of them came close to <i>that.
“I mean, what's the point of being a gay historian if I keep my mind closed towards contemporary interpersonal relations? Monogamy is a recent construct to better control nuclear households and… and... I am going to stop because I am losing the focus here.”
Michael laughed. He understood more and more Forrest's appeal. After a few hours of almost losing Alex and breaking up with Maria, Forrest managed to make Michael laugh.
“Alex says I get a bit too passionate about this matters and..."
"Can I kiss you?" Michael blurted, surprising even himself. "I know, I know, the handprint and all, but Alex's feelings are still fuzzy from the drugs and I am pretty sure he doesn't control every single emotion I have." Now it was time for Forrest to be taken aback. He pondered for two heartbeats and nodded, still processing what just happened. 
Michael caressed Forrest face, mimicking what the historian did few moments ago on the back of his hand. Michael’s calloused fingers brushed the other man’s face, bringing him closer. It started as a brush of lips, and then escalated to a slow and tender kiss. It was one of those that meant comfort, not sex. It made Michael feel warm and safe. Forrest was saying "I accept you and you can stay", and Michael almost felt like crying.
The kiss was broken when they felt the weight shift in the sofa. Michael didn't know for how long they’ve been kissing. The only thing he processed was Forrest on his lap by the time Alex showed up. Michael was starting to panic when Forrest just let a little laugh, going back to the couch to give Alex a kiss on his forehead.
Michael's heart only came back to normal because he could feel how calm and peaceful Alex was. If not for the handprint, he’d definitely be running away right now. After the initial shock, Michael started to process how easy it felt to kiss Forrest while actively ignoring how he was the current boyfriend of his ex.
"You're overthinking again, Michael." Surprisingly (or maybe not), this phrase came out of Forrest, again. He didn't need a handprint to understand what was going on inside the alien's head, and that scared Michael. If only by knowing the stories he understood Michael better than his siblings, what would Forrest be able to do with a little more intimacy?
"War taught us that we can't take tomorrow for granted." Alex said, with a hint of tiredness in his voice that only existed after a drug-induced sleep. "That doesn't mean I'll feel sorry for you and let you go away with all the shit you put me through, Guerin." Alright, back to the last name basis then. "But I will, actually we will, offer you a chance of redemption, but it will all depend on you."
"Own your mistakes and learn from them. Don't project your faults onto others." Forrest said while standing up from the couch. "That means no more bullshit, Guerin."
Michael felt oddly comforted by both men being so straightforward. Yeah, he could get used to this bluntness. Maybe this is the first change he has to make from now on.
"Once this handprint fades and we’re in fully control of our emotions, we’ll talk about possibilities. Right now I just need to focus on not dying from an infected wound which an alien helped to heal." Alex said, finishing Forrest's tea to the last drop.
“Now, let’s give ourselves some time to digest everything. God knows I still need to process that I made coffee for an alien”. Which, by the way, would you like some more tea, captain?” Forrest stood up and grabbing the mug from Alex' hands. He didn't have to look at Alex to know the answer. "More coffee for you, Michael?" He motioned to the mug on the table.
Michael nodded, still mesmerized by what was happening. They had a long path ahead of them, but he knew how easy could it be to fall into a routine with them. Maybe the Slpiknot mug would slowly turn into his mug, and this realisation terrified him.
Michael slowly gave the object to the historian. He felt like if he moved a bit too abrupt, everything would dissolve and he would wake up in the airstream. Instead, the only thing that happened was Forrest going back to the kitchen and Alex completely relaxed on the couch. 
“Did he give you the whole speech about monogamy and nuclear households? I mean, the whole speech?” Michael shook his head no, and Alex let out a soft laugh. “Then get ready for at least a two-hour lecture from him. I’m not exaggerating. He has a powerpoint presentation about it.” 
Michael could feel more of Alex as the seconds passed, and he has never been so sure that he wanted to change. Forrest and Alex started talking about nothing in particular and Michael closed his eyes, letting himself be surrounded by the tenderness and warmth radiating from that place.
the end
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angelkurenai · 5 years ago
Text
Hurricane - Dean Winchester x Reader (Detective AU) - Part 2
Title: Hurricane
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: None
Summary: With one of the most dangerous serial killers on the loose and in your tracks you have no choice but to rely on the help of the police to ansure your safety. It doesn’t hurt that the detective in charge is the one of the most skilled there is and probably, well, definitely the most charming one you have ever seen. Or that his flirting with you takes your mind off the danger waiting for you right around the corner. & Based on: Imagine detective Dean Winchester flirting with you while working on your case.
Read Part 1 here!
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“And she's coming for me.” you almost closed your eyes, feeling yourself shake with terror even at the thought of it. You were never anything special, you had a normal life – or what you at least considered to be normal – maybe a little boring but it was at least drama free. Until of course you became the target of a serial killer, who by the way was still on the loose and escaped no matter how many times the police caught her. Fan-freaking-tastic, right?
“What?” Dean's voice was rough and his jaw clenched, his chest almost puffed out.
“Ye-yeah.” you breathed out shakily “I- I mean she hasn't made a move yet but I'm- I'm seeing some things and I am so scared it just is not my imagination.”
“Damn it, what has she done now?” his eyes were hard as he placed a hand on top of your shaking ones holding your coffee.
“She- she hasn't made her presence known, as I said, but I- I always feel like there is someone watching me. I can always feel a presence there but I- I never see her. And I've spotted a shadow by the window of my living room or kitchen, and-and whenever I get back from work I hear footsteps behind me but whenever I turn nobody's there. But I swear, I swear Dean I heard them! I'm not crazy, Dean. Please believe-” your voice was shaking with fear as you remembered the events.
“No, no sweetheart.” Dean squeezed your hand, shaking his head furiously “I believe you, trust me I believe you.”
You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes for a little as you tried to keep a sob from leaving your lips. You let a small whimper involuntarily “I wish- I wish I didn't have to be here for this Dean, I wish I-” you let out a pained chuckle “-I wish I could really be here only for your pretty eyes but-”
“No, hey. No, don't do that.” he said firmly, cupping your face and making you look him directly in the eyes “You don't apologize about something that's completely human. You're scared, it's fine. That woman- she's nuts, and God knows what she might do next. You did the right thing, I told you to come to me if something like this happened and I sure as hell meant it.” his green eyes held a fire in them as he looked at you protectively.
-Flashback-
You remembered the first time he'd promised to protect you. She had almost strangled you with her bare hands before the police arrived. Of course it was one of the many attempts and you knew that even if detective Dean had arrived she wasn't going to let go of you so easily. She's promised she would be back and of course she was a little later. Either way, that night she had left before she could get caught that night and while you were sitting on the ambulance, a nurse taking care of your wounds – the ones she had created – Dean had walked up to you. It was in that moment you had seen such determination in his eyes for the first time.
His jaw was clenched, his tie pulled loose and his hair slightly a mess as if he'd been running his fingers through them. You didn't doubt it because all the while you were at the ambulance he was inside your house trying to take clues. So considering the state he was in things weren't going all that well.
“Hey” his voice was more hoarse than you remembered the last time you had seen the handsome man.
“H-hey” you whispered, doubting he even heard it but you couldn't say it louder because your throat actually hurt like hell. You coughed slightly and Dean frowned, sitting next to you.
“Are you alright?” he asked with a pained look himself.
You gave him a half smiled, pointed to your throat and he nodded his head “Aight, sorry.” he mumbled and you just shrugged.
“(Y/n)” he said after a small pause and you raised an eyebrow at him “I'm sorry, for everything that happened. If- If I had made it here earlier she wouldn't have-” he cut himself off, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he looked down at your bruises and cuts and of course the bandages that covered the most serious ones.
“Dean” you grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze - as much as you could at least - and shook your head with a smile “Don't- don't blame yourself, please.” your voice was hoarse and every word hurt so much to say but you couldnt let him believe such things “Not- not your fault.” you coughed slightly and he pursed his lips shaking his head.
“You're the one covered in bruises and blood because I was just too fucking late, yet you are the one comforting me?” he asked and you just shrugged, giving him a tight smile.
“It- it doesn't matter.” your whispered in a hoarse voice but he just shook his head.
“Yes, yes it actually does (Y/n).” he clenched his jaw, getting angry again but now mostly with himself “I promised I would always come to protect you yet I was too fucking busy with other cases to think about you. Damn it, I hate myself for this.” he ran a hand through his hair and down his face.
“D” you could only whisper but he didn't seem to listen, or at least pay attention. He was too caught up with cursing at himself for what happened to you. Could he get any more selfless?
“I couldn't do the most simple thing, damn it. I couldn't protect the woman that I- I-” he shook his head “It won't happen again, I promise you (Y/n).” he finally looked you in the eyes, your tear-filled eyes. You wished so bad he could complete the previous sentence.
“I know that that's what I said the previous time but-” he let a small growl at himself.
“Dean, you came running as soon as you heard about her being here.” and it was true, he had slammed in the Impala and hit the petal to drive as fast as he could to get to you. He had passed by red lights and crashed several times, you did hear it from one of his officers, so you could never really blame him for being late or ignoring you or even more not keeping his promise to come.
“I know, but it wasn't enough.” he shook his head “So that's why I'm not going to take up another fucking case until I'm done with her.”
“Wh-what? You- you can't-”
“Yes, (Y/n) I actually can and I will.” he pursed his lips, holding your hand now in his “I don't care what happens, I am going to do this, I am going to get her and I am going to make sure you are safe. Come hell or heaven, I am not going to let anything, and I mean anything happen to you. I am going to protect you even if that means giving my life for you.” and his eyes held that fire in them, looking at you intensily and determined.
“No” you whispered, shaking your head as your eyes lowered.
“Yes, actually yes.” he said in a rough voice “I am going to protect you, I promise you that sweetheart.” he cupped your face, making you look back at him. You knew he would go to great extents to actually keep this promise for you that it both made you feel at peace and scared you because you knew he wouldn't care what happened to his own self.
“I will fight for this if I have to, I won't sleep but I will get her or the least make sure you are safe 24/7.” he said and you couldn't help but close your eyes, nuzzling your face in his hand “I will protect you.” he added in a whisper and you opened your eyes slightly.
“And if you ever, and I mean ever, need anything you call at any time. Or come to me, always. Don't hesitate. I will stop everything for you.” and as he rubbed his thumb on your cheek you thought that somehow this wasn't just his cop side speaking. Hell, it wasn't that in the first place and that was something you didn't know how to react to.
The only thing you did was give him a shy smile and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he carefully wrapped a hand around your shoulders.
-End if Flashback-
He did keep his promise at that, despite how guilty it made you feel about all of those other people that wanted his help. The only thing that put you at ease was that at some point she just disappeared and everything went back to being peaceful and quiet and, luckily for you, Dean could focus on other cases again. Although, honestly he always did check up on you - more than how much a detective should - and you didn't mind seeing him as often.
“So what now?” you asked, looking him deeply in the eyes.
“Now I am going to do everything in my power to catch the bitch and make sure she never lays a finger on you.” he said firmly and even if you opened your mouth to speak no words came out as a knock was heard on the door.
“Detective Winchester?” a hesitant voice was heard and you already saw Dean roll his eyes at it. You gave him a small smile and shake of your head and he let out a long.
“Yes.” he said, getting up on his feet and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Uh I- I am sorry for interrupting, detective.” she glanced at you and you knew all too well why she seemed a little scared at the moment. Maybe, just maybe, you felt a little flattered at how Dean had been so protective of you before but you were too caught up with your problems to think about it.
“But we got a call from uh the office of the President, uh they said they had a case for you. Something about attempted assassination or that.” she said, handing him a couple of files “They sent this through the fax too.”
You heard Dean let out a frustrated sigh, muttering things under his breath, and you could almost practically read his thoughts at the moment. You knew what would come next so you decided to speak up before he could.
“Uh detective-” you caught his attention as you placed your coffee on the side “I should probably get going, you have more important things to deal with. I uhm I will be fine, thank you for listening to me.” you got up but before you could take a step away from him, he grabbed your hand and gave you a stern look that meant for you to stay put.
“No” he said turning to her “Call them and say I am busy at the moment. If they want the case done they can hire someone else otherwise I'll call him myself and settle things.” he placed the files on his desk and she gave him a small nod.
“Of course detective.” she said.
“Oh and call the team, tell them to give me a text of their whereabouts. I need to gather them, I have an important case for them.” he said and your eyebrows all but shot up. He was putting up his team for you? You knew that things were serious at that moment because his team consisted by some of the most skilled cops, that got hired only for the most dangerous cases. That or... he worried a lot about your well-being in a not-so-professional way.
“Alright detective.” she nodded her head and was out of the door.
“You- you don't have to do that.” you mumbled, biting your lower lip.
“Yes, I actually do. Because I want to.' he gave you a small smile “I am not going to rest until I've made sure you are alright. Come on, let's get you home.” he gave you a boyish grin as he grabbed his coat.
“I can- I can go home myself, you don't need to make sure I am alright all the time. I am just- I am keeping you from your work and I don't want that.” you fidgeted with your hands and he sighed as he let his hands drop when he wore it.
“Sweetheart, I told you. It's not because I have to, it's because I want to. Besides, I don't know what you consider fun but for me it certainly isn't trying to catch criminals. On the contrary, spending the night with a gorgeous woman like you- that is something straight outta my wildest dreams.” he winked at you as he fixed his tie and your eyebrows shot up.
“I am sure if you weren't such a good detective and if flirting was actually a job you'd be the best at it, detective.” you shook your head, avoiding to look him in the eyes when you felt your cheeks heat up.
“Only when it comes to someone like you, not that I have ever had the chance to meet a woman as beautiful as you, like ever.” he shrugged and you scoffed a laugh.
“Now you really are just exaggerating. I'm sure that when it comes to you, there must be plenty of women around.”
“Plenty? Maybe. But this unique? Not once.” he shook his head “Besides, it doesn't hurt, you know?”
“What?” you asked in a lower voice as he opened his office's door for you to leave. He gave a few goodbye nods and smiles along with waves at some people.
“Flirting with you. I am doing by job of distracting you, in case anyone gets suspicious of how close we are, and... I'm testing my luck. Just in case, you know, I have a chance with you in the end.” he gave you that adorable grin and innocent shrug of his shoulders that made your heart skip a beat.
“Probably.” you bit your lower lip, feeling thankful that even if you acting like a teen girl in love, you at least were forgetting about the threat that waited for you every second f the day.
“But-” you gave him a smile when he opened the doo to his beautiful car and went around to get in the driver's seat “You'd have to try a lot for that, detective.” you said with a shy smile and he just grinned at you.
“Well, I told you we have all night, beautiful. I wasn't kidding.” he turned on the car.
“What- what do you mean?”
“You think I'm just going to leave you alone with that psycho on the loose? Hell no. I am going to stay in your house tonight, and if you dare protest: just let me remind you this is my job, sweetheart.” he winked and you felt all air get caught in your lungs.
A night with detective Dean Winchester in your house, what could possibly go wrong?
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inglourious-imagines · 5 years ago
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Ocean Eyes pt.3 (Cliff Booth)
Summary: It seems like Cliff Booth was the love of your life. However, the relationship didn't work out and all you're left with are painful memories.
Author's Note: I'm sorry it took so damn long to post another part but I've been really sick. Requests are still open! Feel free to request anything! Hope you enjoy! ♡
She was having the time of her life. Everything was simply perfect. She had a perfect job, perfect best friend and perfect boyfriend. It seemed almost surreal. But the thing was that moments like this don't last long. And Y/N was not an exception.
•••
It all started in the middle of December 1969, almost after 5 months of the happiest time in her life. 
She was sitting in her apartment watching the night through a window, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. A little smile appeared on her face when she heard the phone ringing.
"Yes?"
"Hello baby."
Even only these two words sent shivers down her spine and her smile grew bigger. "Hey Cliff. What's up?"
"I'm really sorry but I can't make it tonight. I have a lot of work with Rick on the set. We can't film this one scene right."
"Oh, okay. Don't worry about it. We can have dinner next time."
"I knew you'd understand. Promise I'll make it up to you, baby."
Her excitement faded a little bit but she was glad she could at least hear his voice today. She threw the cigarette butt out of the window and opened a new beer. A nice night off was really something useful now.
But the phone rang again. She was confused a bit but picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hey Y/N! What y-you doing tonight? I h-have a free day in w-work. Wanna meet up?" 
It was Rick. She felt like someone stabbed her in the stomach and then twisted with the knife in the wound. 
"Maybe another time, mate." she said quickly and hang up the phone. She didn't want to make any accelerated desicion but she just couldn't stop a few tears from falling. Apparently, something was wrong in her perfect life. 
She wasn't sure if she should call Cliff right away or just wait and ask him about it later. She looked outside for an answer but the moon was jut blankly starring at her and the city seemed somehow calm and quiet. And then, out of the sudden, it started snowing. 
She always got so happy when the winter was coming but now, she just wasn't able to. 
•••
After a long and exhausting day at work, she thought it'd be nice to sit down in some little cafeteria and relax a bit. She needed this more than anything. 
Y/N got out of studio and when she wanted to cross the road, she heard someone calling her name. Rick ran to her all so sweaty while heavily breathing. "What's the matter, man?" she laughed and stepped back a little. Rick raised his hand as a sign to give him a few seconds to catch a breath. "Cliff didn't show up t-today and I don't have anyone to drive me home. Then i saw you and i thought w-we could spend a day together or something. We h-haven't done that in a long time." the actor suggested. 
Cliff did not show up to give him a lift? What the hell is going on?
"Why not? By the way, what's up with Cliff?"
"You don't know? I-i thought you'd know."
That was it. That was the last drop. Cliff should be right here, right now, picking her and Rick up and then they should all go to have some dinner and have a lovely time.
But he wasn't here and she knew there's a chance he might never will be again. 
•••
As the night went by, she and Rick were blind drunk, like the good old times. "Oh Rick, I've missed you so much." Y/N breathed out and took a drag from her cigarette. "Me too! We haven't been doing t-these fucking  parties since you got together with Cliff. You were both oh so f-fucking in love and i didn't want to i-interupt that."
After these words, she took a long drag from her cigarette, it almost seemed like she wanted to bury all the pain deep down inside of her. Because the thing was, they probably weren't in love anymore. It was just her.
•••
"You know what? Let's go visit Cliff!" she suggested lively and jumped out of her chair. "W-woah, Y/N. You sure you wanna do t-this? Apparently, there's something wrong." Rick said kindly and took her hand in his.
"That's exactly why. This whole ignorance is killing me. Rick, i deserve to know what's fucking going on. He can't just push me out of his life without a word, not after what we've been through."
"I know. It's just- i don't u-understand what this is all about. This isn't him, Y/N. He's not like that. Fuck, i can't e-even count how many times he's told me how much he l-loves you and how he doesn't want to fuck things up."
"Oh dear Rick, he already did that."
•••
They were standing in front of Cliff's trailer and neither of them dared to knock. They were scared of what they might find inside - the most ridiculous scenarios were rushing through Y/N's mind one after another. "I'll wait over there, d-dear." Rick whispered and began to walk away. Now, it was only her.
Y/N knocked on the door and walked in. She froze right in the middle of her movement. Cliff was laying on the small bed, cigarette hanging from his lips as usual as his ocean eyes wandered on a beautiful woman's body - she was standing in the little kitchen trying to cook something dressed in one of Cliff's shirts - Y/N's favourite and she was sure Cliff knew. 
"Look, it's not-" Cliff began to explain quickly and tried to get out of bed.
"Just shut up! I've had enough of this! I just don't understand why you haven't told me earlier and kept on going doing... this!" 
They were staring at each other and she thought that his ocean eyes are still the most beautiful ones she'd ever seen. 
"Hey! I'm Cassidy!" the woman broke the silence and smiled sweetly at her. Y/N just rolled her eyes and turned back to Cliff: "After all we've been through? I think i fucking deserve at least to know why!"
"It's hard to explain." he said quietly and threw his cigarette away.
"What the fuck, Cliff? Hard to explain? For you? I'm outta here."
She heard Cliff calling after her but she wasn't listening to him. She needed to be as far as possible. At this point, she wasn't able to stop the tears from falling. At least, she still had Rick to take care of her now.
•••
It'd been one week now, one long week without him. It was harder than she thought, so damn harder. No calls, no messages, nothing and Y/N started to wonder if she has ever meant something to him. It was still breaking her heart but she finally realized the truth - Cliff hadn't cared, obviously. And she wasn't able to handle this fact. 
•••
The next day, a postman left a letter at her doorstep. This was rather strange since she hadn't been receiving any kind of correspondence.
She sat down in her living room and finally looked at it for the first time. Her heart skipped a beat. She could recognize this handwriting everywhere. 
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