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slasherhaven · 4 years ago

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hi um can i make a Request?? how would the slasher reacts when they're being taken care of by their female s/o while their sick

Taking Care of the Slashers when they’re Sick:

Thomas Hewitt

Can be stubborn. Thomas is a hard worker and doesn’t need the lecture from Hoyt for not getting his chores done, so it takes some convincing to get him to just rest. He tries to convince you that he isn’t that sick, he doesn’t even feel that bad, but you and Luda May eventually convince him to rest.

Loves when you take care of him. At first he doesn’t want to be a burden but you quickly convince him that he’s not and you want to take care of him, so he allows you. He quickly realises that he likes the feeling of you taking care of him, making sure he is alright and fussing over him. He never actually asks you for anything but he doesn't have too, you’re already doing it with a smile.

Luda May loves that you take care of him so well. Luda May thinks your perfect for Thomas and is glad that he found somebody he loves and who loves him, but seeing you take care of him so lovingly when he is sick just makes her heart melt. That’s how she knows that you’re definitely the right one for him.

Michael Myers

Very stubborn. Michael Myers doesn’t get sick. Evil personified can’t get sick...yeah, he’s definitely sick considering all the coughing and sneezing he’s doing. Even when you roll your eyes and point out that he is very clearly sick, he brushes it off. Okay, well it’s not that bad and he can deal with it.

Reluctantly lets you take care of him when it gets really bad. Eventually the common cold just gets worse and he tries to fight it with stubbornness, and he reluctantly lets you take care of him. He will glare at you the whole time but it’s not quiet as intimidating as it normally is since he’s sniffling as he does so. You have to try not to smile as you drape a blanket over his shoulders before handing him a bowl of his favourite soup.

Jason Voorhees

Tries to pretend he is fine. He’s not stubborn or trying to act like he’s not sick, but he doesn’t want to be a burden or anything, so he tries to act like it’s not as bad as it really his.

Doesn’t fight you when you want to take care of him. Once you realise that he really is sick, you insist on him getting some rest and letting you take care of him. And he allows it without a fight.

It makes him feel very loved. The fact that you’re fussing over him so much and taking such good care of him simply because you want to, because you love him, just warms his heart.

Brahms Heelshire

Still a brat. Brahms is needy for your attention on a good day, so when he is sick it is ten times worse. Don’t expect to be doing much other than directly fussing over him. Whines your name if you’re gone for two minutes, he needs you to take care of him!

Loves being cared for. This is pretty obvious but Brahms really enjoys being looked after, being fussed over and doted on. It makes him feel loved and cared for.

Is way too dramatic and plays on it a lot. It’s a simple cold and it’s probably not even that bad but Brahms will act like he is dying so that you give him more of your attention. He’ll probably just lay in bed until he feels better, having you wait on him and insisting on cuddles. You suppose not much changes...

Bo Sinclair

Stubborn. At first he denies that he’s sick at all but once he can’t hide it any longer, he confesses that he’s got a bit of a cold but insists that he’s fine. He definitely doesn’t need to you fussing over him like he’s a child.

Eventually doesn’t have the energy to fight you. He just gets more sick until fighting you is just hard work, so he gruffly gives in and allows you to dote on him. You make him something to eat and makes sure he stays comfortable, scolding him whenever he complains or insists on doing something.

Okay...maybe this isn’t so bad. After so long, he begins to enjoy being cared for like this. He has to admit that it is making him feel better and he appreciates the effort your putting in just to make him feel better. Still, don’t expect a proper ‘thank you’, he’ll still insist that you were being dramatic and he was fine the whole time.

Vincent Sinclair

A little stubborn. He knows he is sick and doesn’t deny it but he also knows that there is work that needs to get done, so he’s going to need a little convincing to just get him to rest. But you manage to get him to do it eventually, promising that the chores will get done and telling him that he needs to focus on getting better.

He likes having you dote on him, and he’s very grateful. It’s been a long time since somebody had taken care of him like this, fussed about him when he was sick and made sure he got better. He really appreciates it and lets you know that. He doesn’t ask you to do anything, feeling guilty if he did, but you kept reassuring him that you wanted to help and bringing him what he needed anyway without him asking. It’s just another thing you do that makes him fall even more in love with you.

Lester Sinclair

Very quick to convince to rest. He hesitates a little, not wanting to receive a lecture from Bo when he doesn’t get some of his duties done but you pretty easily convince him that it will all be fine. He knows that he needs to rest and he doubts that Bo is going to drive out to the house just to scold him, so he gives in and goes back to bed.

A very good patient. He does everything you say. Takes his medication, eats the soup you make, and thanks you for everything you do for him. He finds that he really does like when you take care of him, making him feel loved and cared for. He just loves you and appreciates everything you do for him.

Bubba Sawyer

Does get a little whiney. At first he tries to fight off the illness with pure willpower but soon gives in to the illness. Bubba hates being sick and he can be a little whiney about it but not in an annoying way, you just feel sympathetic for him. He doesn’t fight you trying to help him either, he doesn’t feel well and he needs you to look after him!

A pretty good patient. Bubba doesn’t fight you, and though he can be a little whiney, he will do whatever you say. He’s happy just to be cuddled up with blankets in bed while you lovingly fuss over him, shushing him and telling him that you will take care of him.

Billy Lenz

Pretty dramatic. It starts of with a few sneezes and sniffles, and him feeling a little sorry for himself. You’re sympathetic, already beginning to fuss over him a little, with he enjoys. But he starts feeling more ill and eventually gets pretty whiney about it. He can be very dramatic, he absolutely hates being sick and will complain to you the whole time.

Loves being cared for. Being properly cared for and looked after is pretty new to Billy, and he absolutely loves it. He loves being fussed over and he loves having so much of your attention. He will be a little dramatic, acting more sick than he his just so that you will fuss over him more. Some cuddling should get him to stop complaining and just get some sleep.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Very stubborn. Asa isn’t going to just accept that he is sick, insisting that he’s fine, that it’s not so bad and it will be over in a couple of days. You shrug and give in, letting him get on with it. Slowly you start to see his energy draining as he hits the peak of his illness, that’s when you start to insist that he focuses on recovering.

He doesn't know the meaning of ‘rest’. While being sick he might take a break from his Collector work, since he can’t really be doing that with his drained energy but he will be carrying on with his more legitimate work. You will have to just take his work away from him while insisting he gets some rest. You’re not going to get him to just lay in bed for the next few days but you might get him to just rest and take a break from his work.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Pretty stubborn. He is quick to admit that he is getting sick but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to be sitting around feeling sorry for himself. When you advise him to get some rest, he just reassures you that he is fine and it is unnecessary.

Lets you do what you need to do. You’re fussing over him and he lets you but he still assures you that he is fine, really. Still, he just lets you do what you gotta do, whether that's making him some soup or just checking in on him, and he is sincerely grateful for it. He appreciates all your effort and makes sure to tell you that.

Need to force him to stop working. Eventually you decide that you can’t go on watching him filling out paperwork when you can physically see how ill he is, so you pull the papers away from him and insist that he comes to get some proper rest with you. It takes a little convincing but soon gives in and lets you take him to the living room, sitting him down and insisting he just do nothing for a while and focus on getting better. He isn’t very dramatic and he knows he will be fine in a few days but he thinks it’s sweet how much you fuss over him, and so he allows you to do so.

Otis Driftwood

Insists that he doesn’t get sick. No matter what, Otis will insist that he isn’t sick, but he is very clearly sick. No matter what you say, he will deny it. He is stubborn and certainly won’t let you take care of him.

Finally listens but will complain the whole time. Eventually Otis can no longer deny that he is sick and simply doesn’t have the energy that he usually has. And so he finally gives in and listens to your advice to get some rest. However, he will complain about how you’re fussing over him...even if he will get even more grumpy when you stop. When Otis is sick, it’s just a bad time for everyone because he’s in an even worse mood than usual. Mama Firefly is just glad that you’re here to take care of him and to deal with him.

Baby Firefly

Refuses to admit she is sick at first. She’s not as stubborn as her brother and isn’t ashamed to admit that she’s gotten sick, she just doesn’t want to slow down. She’s fine! Of course the two of you can still go out tonight! You just have to assure her that’s it’s fine and the two of you will just celebrate extra hard when she’s feeling better.

Finally gives in and lets you take care of her. Okay, she can’t deny it anymore, she is sick and feels terrible. Once she stops trying to fight it, she is happy to let you take care of her. She thinks you’re sweet for caring so much and kinda likes having you wait on her just a little bit. She quickly figures out that she can get away with being a little cheeky and definitely takes advantage of that.

Yautja (Predator)

He’s not sick, he doesn’t get sick. Honestly you were surprised when he got sick, you didn’t even realise that was possible. You soon learnt that he had the Yautja equivalent of the common cold. It did seem rare for your mate to get sick, the species having a pretty high immune system, and maybe that was why he was so insistent that he wasn’t sick at first.

You make sure he takes his medication or the medic’s advice. At first he might be a little stubborn, insisting he is too strong to be sick but he slowly gets over himself. Listening to you when you insist on any medication that the medic had prescribed or just when it came to following the medic’s advice.

Finds that he likes letting you take care of him. Your mate quickly learns that he likes when you take care of him. You aren’t sure how to help with his alien illness so you just do what you would do for a human partner, wrapping him up in fluffy blankets and making him soup (or whatever else he wants to eat). It doesn’t really help the same way it might help a human but you just want to make him comfortable while he gets better and that is definitely working. Your mate loves it and appreciates it, he is quickly becoming fond of your human quirks and behaviours, he is definitely getting used to them.

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writerofshit · 3 years ago

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For almost 3 years the crew doesn't know when Matt's birthday is. This is solely because he never brought it up and sometimes the crew thinks he might have sprouted, fully formed, in front of a computer monitor roughly ten years ago. He didn't. He does in fact have a birthday.

When the crew finally realizes this, Trevor takes one for the team in trying to figure it out. He makes a point to bring it up all nonchalantly, 'yeah, Lindsay says you do that because you're a Virg-....Aquari-... Gemini?' complete with arched eyebrows and wide eyes.

And Matt's an observant guy, yeah, but more so when it comes to patterns in bank transactions or when the local donut shop has his favorite donuts available. People, even friends, are another story entirely. So he just shrugs. 'what does me being a Gemini have to do with liking mustard on a hot dog?'

But Trevor doesn't have an answer for that, of course, because it was bullshit to begin with. Instead he mumbles something about stars and time and relish, scurries off to tell Jeremy what he's learned. Which isn't much, sure, but at least they've got a window now.

The entire crew spends a ridiculous amount of time dropping opinions on May and June dates. 'yeah I'd hate to be born on June 2nd. Wouldn't you, Matt?' and 'May 27th is my favorite date for sure. What's yours, Matt?' and 'i've never met someone with the same birthday as me, May 23rd. Have you, Matt?'

And again, yeah, Matt's an observant guy. Most people, in fact, are probably observant enough to notice when an entire group of criminals act really fucking weird about the calendar. But again, Matt's observant about things like tiny movements on camera feeds or that there's not extra onion on this burger, actually. So he shrugs and says 'yeah I knew someone growing up who was June 6th. We used to argue about who could have a party. I always lost.' like this isn't information the entire crew has been fishing for over the last month. They probably could have asked outright and Matt wouldn't have cared.

It's honestly kind of annoying.

The week his birthday rolls around again, they go all out. Big ass fucking party, invite everyone they can think of. Every old friend not turned enemy, crews they've talked about working with but never got around to, minor celebrities they know Matt will get a kick out of toasting in his honor. It might actually be the biggest party or event or goddamn crowd Los Santos has ever seen. All there for Matt. All celebrating this guy most people have never seen.

It's a kickass time. Matt gets hoisted up and sung to, then Michael, then Fiona, then someone Matt is sure he's never met. 'It's a cover.' Jeremy drunkenly yells in his ear. 'So no one knows who's really you.' It's a sentence that's not quite right, but Matt appreciates the sentiment. It's also probably not even accurate, given that he was the first up and they've made him cut a cake on a stage, for some godforsaken reason. It's the thought that counts, though.

All in all, Matt thinks it might be the most fun he has ever had.

Two days later, on his actual birthday, it's almost the complete opposite. In terms of scale, at least. It's just the crew, up in the old penthouse Geoff swore he'd sold. He hadn't, of course. Never could bring himself to pull the trigger on it.

It's pizza and beer and donuts and cupcakes. It's Mario Kart and Ultimate Chicken Horse and a game of Monopoly that's played in teams, somehow. It's stories that reach all the way back to an alleyway, three idiots pointing guns at each other because they had no idea what they would become, what they'd join into. Jeremy says they were 'pretty sure Matt had never held a fucking gun before that' and Trevor agrees wholeheartedly.

They try to pick their favorite 'Matt's playing music over the loud speakers during a fucking bank robbery' song. It's a tie between Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go ('because i knocked out that fuckin' guard and he thought it was funny!' Michael yells. 'who the fuck thinks of that?' and Call Me Maybe ('because god forbid i take one breath before I answer him. I wasn't even in the bank, i was across the fucking street playing lookout! I only heard it through somebody's earpiece.' Alfredo says, rolling his eyes.)

When the night winds down, and it's no longer Matt's birthday but they're still pretending it is, Jack brings out an apple with a candle stuck in it and Geoff cries with laughter. 'you're getting older, Matt, you gotta eat more fruit.' she says. Matt argues that he does eat fruit, he had a lemon lime flavored cupcake at the party.

There's one whole serious moment during all of it. Things get quiet, Geoff not quite meeting anyone's eyes. 'y'know, Matt, we all make a lot of jokes. We call you an asshole, tell you we hate the plans you make. I don't know how many times I've said I regret hiring you, or any of you, really. And, uh, yeah, sometimes it's true.' It earns him a chuckle from around the room, and he clears his throat. 'but seriously, you're, uh, you're one of the best fuckin people I know. All of you are. And we're lucky to have you. We love you, man.'

Nobody cries, because this is a group of hardened criminals who rob banks and blow up buildings and kill people, sometimes, so of course they don't fucking cry. They do, however, somehow all find themselves with a serious case of the sniffles, all wipe totally non existent tears from their cheeks.

No one says anything, for a long moment, not even Matt. He should be saying thank you, or telling them how much he loves them too, or hell, even cracking a joke. He can't seem to find the words, though.

Jack holds up her beer. 'to Matt.' she says. Around the room, various drinks go up almost immediately, and there's a not even close to in sync chorus of 'to Matt.'

No, tonight is not nearly as grand or extravagant as the party two days ago. There are no expensive cars being raced, no crowds of people shouting 'Axial!', no stages or celebrities or fireworks. This is just his family, together.

It is the best birthday he's ever had.

#this fic? head canon? mini fic?#this whatever brought to you by: it being my birthday and this being all i really want.#fahc #fake ah crew #ks writes

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rainieclown · 3 years ago

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DEADLY OBSESSION

michael myers x reader - chapter two: free hostage

three sharp knocks on the door can be heard, and michael lazily looks back over. doctor loomis is standing there, and he looks furious, but michael will stand his ground for you.

tags: fast relationships bc michael is not patient at all, forbidden love, smut, public sex (kinda), fingering, degrading, michael talks more in this one bc he wants you to trust him <3

warnings: yandere themes, exhibition, violence, ptsd themes, nightmares, tazers/gun-like objects

michael stayed up despite his lazy blinks, being tired doesn't bother him. doctor loomis was sat in the room, still trying to get to you, and through michael. "they need to be in their own room, with their nurse, michael. they need to leave." the doctor says calmly, and michael blinks again at the doctor. "we need to take y/n away, you can see each other during your free period." he tries, but michael simply moves, ignoring his doctor as he turns his attention to you. you're sleeping soundly next to him, lips parted slightly as you dreamed, eyelids twitching slightly with each moment. "michael. you have to let y/n leave." loomis crosses his arms and michael shoots a glare at the older male. loomis sighs, getting up. "don't make us sedate you, michael." he warns, stepping closer to the bed carefully. the guards at the door are ready, but michael pays them no mind. "let me take them to their room." he says, gesturing to your sleeping form.

michael tenses as the doctor eases forward, reaching for you carefully. snatching the doctor's wrist is all it took, the guards rush in for loomis's safety, grabbing michael and restraining him as he tries to protect you. a needle pricks his neck and he grunts softly, reaching to pull you from loomis's grasp. you stirred, becoming discontent. michael pushes the guards off, lurching after loomis. your whimpers drive him, yet before he can reach you, he falls to his knees. "y/n!" he rasps, still trying to get to you. the guards push the brunette down, and he grunts as his eyes droop.

you wake up suddenly to miss burnham stroking your cheek softly. you move away from her, catching your breath as you recover from the nightmare. "where's michael?" you ask, searching for him. "are you alright? he didn't hurt you did he?" miss burnham asks, and you furrow your brows. "michael? no!" you shake your head. "there's bruises on your neck, are you sure?" miss burnham says, gesturing to the hickeys. your cheeks heat up as you avert her gaze. "he didn't attack me! we're friends..." you say, unsure of what status michael would give whatever was happening between you both. "hm.. alright..." miss burnham sighs, handing you your medicine. "thanks.. is michael okay?" you ask, and she nods. "he will be, they had to sedate him to keep him away from you." miss burnham replies, and you look at her with shock. "what?! is he alright?" you move to get up, trying to peer into michael's room through your window.

"yes, yes. he's fine. calm down." she rests her hand on your shoulder briefly, letting you pull away. "i wasn't a hostage, why would you sedate him?" you ask, seemingly angry now. miss burnham is taken aback. "because of safety reasons, y/n. he's high security, and you need to be in your own room." miss burnham crosses her arms. "fine." you huff, looking back out the window. "what's on my schedule?" you ask softly, spotting michael as he gets up groggily. he finds your eyes immediately and you smile at him, giving him a small wave. michael doesn't get to respond as miss burnham pulls you away from the window. "come on, first is breakfast." she says, guiding you out the door. "can i sit with michael?" you ask, and miss burnham lets out an exasperated sigh. "if that's what you want." she says softly, letting you grab food and sit at your usual table as she walks off to talk to the guards.

you spot michael walking into the cafeteria, and give him a small smile. instead of getting food, he sits in front of you, much to miss burnham's dismay. "hey, what happened?" you ask softly, glancing at miss burnham as she spoke to someone. michael doesn't answer for a moment, and you look back at him. "michael?" you tilt your head slightly, and michael smiles a bit. "you feeling okay?" he asks, deep voice rough with no use. "yeah, i'm fine." you smile, "i heard you got sedated.. what happened?" you question, glancing at miss burnham once more. "nothing. they took you out of my room. that's it." michael shrugs, but you look unsure. "are you sure? sedation sounds like it sucks." you say softly, and michael's feelings grow with the concerned look in your eye. "i'm fine." he nods, and you sigh. "if you say so.." you mumble, letting michael steal a bit of your water. "so um... about what happened yesterday..." you start awkwardly, and michael stares at you expectingly. "uh.. what is.. this?" you gesture between the two of you, and michael blinks at you. "what do you want?" he asks carefully, and you think for a second. "i.. don't know. i mean we met yesterday, but.. we- y'know." you laugh sheepishly, glancing at michael. "mhm."

"i mean.. to me, you're mine and mine only. got it?" michael says firmly, and you look back at him. "uh.. are you sure? i mean, we just met shouldn't we wait-?" you stammer slightly, face heating up. "i don't care." michael deadpans, and you huff out another small laugh. "okay.." you smile, remembering that this is in fact a mental hospital, and that michael thoughts were different to yours. "that's okay. i mean, we did have sex.." you shrug, craving the feeling of being a teenager again. "mhm." michael's smile is small, yet it's still there.

miss burnham approaches you carefully, glancing at michael. "um, y/n. it's your free period, wanna go watch a movie?" she smiles, and it's so painfully forced. you look up at your nurse with a smile. "uh, sure..! i'll be there in a second." you shrug, and miss burnham hums uneasily. "okay..!" she smiles, walking back to the door. "so, do you have a schedule yet?" you ask, and michael shakes his head. "comes in on friday but i have appointments with loomis everyday at 19:00." he shrugs. "okay.. maybe we can get away with you coming with me." you grin, offering him your hand as you get up. "we can try." michael shrugs, grabbing your hand tightly as he follows you. "uhm. y/n i don't know if he can come-..." miss burnham starts, wanting to pull you from the other patient. "but he doesn't have a schedule and he needs to settle in!" you protest, and the nurse sighs.

"fine. but you're under close watch." she says, leading the two of you to the rec room. mr addison greets you, and you smile softly, much to michael's jealousy. "what you feeling today? lady and the tramp?" he asks, and you hum. "okay." you smile, letting michael pull you from the doctor slightly. "ah, you're new here aren't you." doctor addison smiles, but receives no response. "he's not really talkative." you wave the doctor off, and he hums. "i see. that's fine." he smiles, not catching michael's glare as he lets you two go settle.

you sit on the couch, kicking your legs up as you lean against michael's side, ignoring miss burnham's shocked look. "so, do you have a favorite genre of movies?" you ask, looking up at michael. "horror, easy." he smiles, looking back at you. "oh my god, i love horror but we can't have it here." you reply, smiling. "shame, nothing beats horror." michael shrugs, not even watching the movie. "mhm, i have to say that nightmare before elm street is by far the best one i've seen so far." you say, and michael hums with a nod. "it is good, but consider the hills have eyes." he replies, and you let out a small "ahh!"

"a man of culture." you giggle, letting him drape an arm over you as miss burnham sits on another chair. "so, what're we watching?" she asks softly, glancing at michael. "lady and the tramp." you reply with a shrug as michael regresses into silence. "uhm.. y/n, may i ask you something in private before the movie starts." she gestures to the door. "um, sure?" you look at michael who lets you go reluctantly. she stands by the door with you, and mumbles to you softly. "what's going on with you two? you never let anyone touch you but he's special?" she crosses her arms, clearly suspicious of you and michael. "oh, um... it's just nice to have someone my own age around. no offence." you smile nervously, wanting to go sit down again. "hmm.. okay. but, i have to let you know that relationships are in fact prohibited in this facility." she says firmly. "i know." you nod, moving back to the couch as miss burnham sighs.

you join michael once more, letting him wrap you up in his arms, pulling you onto his lap. "you alright?" he asks quietly. "mhm. just peachy." you sigh, resting your head on his chest and trying to ignore miss burnham's look. "she giving you trouble?" he nods towards your nurse, and you sniffle slightly. "kinda, but it's okay. i'll tell you later." you say softly, not seeing michael's glares as he holds you tighter. "don't worry, she won't bother you soon enough." michael replies, practically hiding you from the staff. "she's just protective, we've been through a lot together." you mumble, wiping your eye with the ball of your palm. michael lets out a small breath at your emotional state, cradling you closer and going to kiss the top of your head. "wait, not while she's watching." you whisper, stopping michael. "why?" he furrows his brows, "because she's already suspicious of us, and romantic stuff isn't allowed here." you look at him.

"hm. i see. i'll get you later though." he teases slightly, and you giggle slightly. "c'mon, watch your movie." he says, moving one of his arms to rest behind his head. you're sitting sideways on his lap, so you could rest on him and watch the tv to avoid too much suspicion. miss burnham didn't like the position the two of you sat in, but you seemed happy, and any progress was good progress in her eyes. "this movie is so... sappy." michael mumbles to you, and you hum. "it's a classic, but nothing beats horror to he honest." you shrug. "mhm." michael agrees, his hand resting on your hip and gently stroking your thigh. "michael, she's gonna get suspicious." you say, grasping his shirt as you look up at him. "they can't stop us." he shrugs, and you fluster at his smile.

you, rest your head against him as his hand continues to caress your thigh softly, his other hand slipping between your legs. "mike-" you whisper, tensing slightly. "sh, they can only see your back so be quiet and stay still." he mumbles, acting nonchalant as his fingers rub your slit through your pants. your breath hitches as you nuzzle into his chest, fingers tightening on his shirt as he teases your clit. you let out a soft hum, voice wavering as you try to stop yourself. "shh. you don't wanna get caught do you?" michael smiles, and you whimper quietly when his hand slips into your pants.

your breathing continues to hitch as his fingertips rub fast circles on your clit, and you have to hide a small moan in his shirt. "you're such a slut, letting me do this to you." michael whispers into your ear, and you whine. "are you gonna be good for me and stay quiet or do i have to stop?" he asks, giving your clit a harsh pinch. you almost gasp at the sensation, resting your hand over michael's larger one as he continues to abuse your bud. "good slut." he whispers, "stay quiet and you can cum." he continues, eyes flickering to the screen as if he wasn't jerking you off with two members of staff in the room.

"michael please, i need more." you beg quietly, trying not to roll your hips into his hand as he chuckles softly. "such a whore for me already?" he teases, one of his fingers slipping down to your wet hole. you swallow a moan as he pushes his finger in, thumb still rubbing your clit as he curls his middle finger up into your g-spot by accident. you gasp this time, catching the attention of miss burnham. "sh." michael hisses into your ear, slowing his movements down to avoid being caught. you hum slightly, tightening your hand over his. miss burnham is still watching, you can feel it. "michael, maybe we should do this later." you mumble, looking back to the screen. "you sure?" he asks softly as he pinches your clit again just to watch you squirm.

"mmmaybe.." you arch your back, but pull it off as you just stretching before settling back. "just make it quick." you whisper, and michael instantly turns up the speed. "fuck.." you whisper, eyes fluttering closed as two more fingers slip into you whilst his thumb continues to stimulate your clit. "mm.. gonna- gonna cum soon." you whisper, grabbing his arm as his fingers roll into you, carefully so your wetness didn't make any noise. "good, cum on my fingers for me." michael replies, not even looking at you as you press your head against his collarbone. "come on, cum on my fingers like the slut you are." he prompts, and you whine as quietly as you can. "don't stop i'm so close." you try to keep quiet, biting michael's collarbone harshly as he continues to fuck you with his digits. "be a good slut and cum." he demands into your ear, and you seize up, effectively stopping his fingers as he slows his thumb down to let you ride out your high.

"fuck- that felt good.." you admit shyly, and michael chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your lips. "quick, before they see." he whispers, and you take his fingers into your mouth, suckling your cum off of them. "good slut." he teases, pulling his fingers from you to wipe off your spit on his pants. "shh." you gently slap his chest, letting him coddle you close. he chuckles slightly, not trying to stay quiet anymore since your activities ended. "get some rest, you look tired." he says softly, and you hum. "don't let me sleep too long." you say, nuzzling close before dozing off. michael looks at miss burnham, who was still staring at him. eventually, she looks away, watching the film. michael looks back to you, an adoring look in his eye as he rubs your back to soothe you into a deep sleep.

time passes slowly, and michael notices your small shuffles first. your brows are furrowed and your hands grasp the fabric of his shirt tightly as you make a small noise. at first, he didn't know what was going on, but it hit him quickly. you were having a nightmare. you hum, mumbling his name softly as you writhe slightly on his lap. "y/n, wake up." michael whispers, shaking you slightly. "mm... michael?!" you whimper, tears catching on your eyelashes. he shakes you awake quickly, hushing you. "sorry.." you sigh, sniffling. "it's alright. it happens." he says softly, tightening his hold on you. "tell me about it?" he suggests, and you shake your head. "no, i'll be alright." you huff slightly, and michael doesn't take that as an answer. "you said my name." he shrugs, and you fluster. "sorry..." you reply. "tell me what happened." he demands now, and you sigh. "it's nothing, michael, honestly." you protest, listening to his heartbeat. "tell me." he whispers, tangling his fingers with yours.

"it was... bad." you start, and michael stays quiet so you could continue. "doctor loomis was there... and he.. it was." you stammer slightly, closing your eyes with grimace. "he was kinda like... torturing you.." you breathe out, and michael hums. "that'll never happen." he says, trying to sound correct so you didn't worry when the truth was: he had no control in this hospital, and that... that terrified him. yet he couldn't worry his new darling. "i know but... it was so... surreal." you mumble, letting him squeeze your hand tightly. when you'd look back over to the tv, you saw that the movie was reaching it's climax. "i have to see what's next on my schedule..." you sigh, looking over at miss burnham who was reading a book she found nearby. you get up from michael's lap, and he follows you. "miss burnham, what's next on my schedule?" you smile at her, and she looks up and smiles back. "let me check." she says, pulling out the paper. "hmm.. aha! art therapy." she smiles, and you nod. "can-?" you can't even finish your sentence. "fine, he can come." she huffs, giving doctor addison a look. "thank you!" you chirp, leading michael to the yellow room.

"he seems to be a good influence on them." doctor addison notes, and miss burnham sighs. "mhm. i just hope there's nothing romantic going on, he is high security and i don't want them getting in trouble." she replies as the doctor approaches her. "it'll be fine. we can keep an eye on them." the doctor smiles, and miss burnham nods before leaving to follow the two of you.

"so, art therapy is quite fun for me because i get to draw what i like, how i'm feeling or what i can remember." you explain, and michael hums softly as you grab your sketchbook. "check it out, pretty neat stuff huh?" you smile, letting michael see some drawings. he hums once more, this time seemingly impressed. "good work." he offers you a small smile, handing it back to you. you grin, leading him over to your table, past doctor piers who greets you loudly. "god, who's that?" michael mumbles to you, and you sigh. "doctor piers, he's very... loud." you reply, sitting michael down in miss burnham's usual seat. "she won't mind if you sit here." you smile, kissing his cheek without thinking. michael smiles slightly as you walk away quickly to grab some art supplies, embarrassed with yourself. doctor piers approaches him, leaning on the table. "i saw that.. but i'll let it slide. it's nice to see happiness here." the bright doctor smiles, and michael huffs as he doesn't even look at the man. "not talkative huh? let me ask, do you like art?" piers continues, not catching the hint. you come back over, resting your hand on michael's shoulder to ease him from the awkward one-sided conversation.

"right... i'll leave you two to it." piers winks, walking off to his desk as miss burnham approaches. "would you like to make something, michael?" she smiles, and michael shrugs. "he can borrow a page out of my sketchbook if he wants to draw." you say, sitting down as you place your pencils down. "i'll watch." he mumbles to you, tangling his hand with what was luckily your non-dominant hand as you prepare a new page. "alright, let me know if you want to talk about any memories or anything." miss burnham smiles, sitting down and finishing her own colouring pages. michael leans against you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you sketch. "can you draw a clown?" he asks softly, his breath tickling your neck. "sure." you brush your thumb idly over his knuckles as you begin adding clown makeup to the person's features. "nice." he huffs out a laugh, lips brushing against your neck slightly. "she's right there." you whisper as quietly as you can to michael who simply shrugs. "oh well.." he mumbles, still watching you draw.

"i like watching you draw." michael says softly, "thanks. your company is nice." you reply, leaning your head against his. "wanna colour him?" you ask softy, pushing your sketchbook to michael. "uh, okay." you laugh at his unsureness. "we can pick the colours, i'm thinking yellow for his ruffle collar." you say, gently tapping the drawing. "mhm, that would look good." michael agrees, catching miss burnham's affectionate gaze that was mainly focused on you. "what about his makeup? i think red for the eyes and blue for his mouth?" you suggest and michael immediately agrees. "okay, i'll let you do it." you smile, pushing the coloured pencils to him. "okay.." he hums, taking the red pencil from the box.

you watch him trace the lines carefully before colouring it in carefully, trying not to mess up your work. it was cute to see him trying for you. "that looks great." you smile, handing him the blue pencil when he was finished with the eye makeup. "do you like clowns?" you ask softly, and michael nods. "yeah, they were always my costume for halloween." he chuckles, and you smile. "that sounds nice, i was always covered in spooky makeup instead." you laugh at the memory. michael breathes out his own laugh through his nose. you look up at miss burnham who isn't paying attention, so you shyly rested your head on michael's shoulder. he hums softly, glancing at you as he continues to colour your drawing.

"you feeling alright?" he asks quietly, and you nod against him. "i'm fine." you hum, starting to sketch something else. michael watches you as he finishes the colours on the clown, adjusting his grip on your hand slightly. you continue to gently brush his knuckles with your thumb as you sketch away, letting michael doodle in the corner with a red pencil. miss burnham gets up, patting your head gently, "art therapy is almost over, make sure nothing's left out." she says to you, moving over to doctor piers. you hum softy as she leaves, pressing slightly closer to michael as he finishes his doodle. it was a knife, and you can't help but giggle. "nice knife." you joke. "thanks." he chuckles, and you feel fuzzy inside. "come on then, i'm gonna get this all put away." you smile, standing up as you manage to slip your hand from his grip.

michael sighs, getting up to help you. miss burnham seems stressed about something, resting her palm against her forehead as she sighs. you stare for a little while longer until michael moves up against your back. "come on, let's sneak off.." he suggests, pulling you away from the two adults. you shudder at his voice, putting your sketchbook away and following him out the door. the two of you track back to doctor addison's office, and michael locks the door this time.

you smile up at him, letting him pull you close and kiss you. whimpering into his mouth, you cup his face as he backs you up against the desk. hopping up onto the desk, you let michael pull your legs around him. you hum softly, letting him grind into you. "raise your hips." he instructs, and you oblige, letting him pull your pants off. "fuck- you look so good." he mumbles, giving you another kiss as he tugs down his own pants past his hips. pressing his tip into your hole makes you moan as you lay back onto the desktop. "mm- please, please give me more-!" you beg, breath hitching as he begins thrusting. michael grunts as you squeeze around him, fucking deep into you as he leans down onto you to kiss you.

"ah- michael!" you yelp, grabbing his arms as you moan. michael hushes you, pushing your shirt up to suckle dark marks onto your tits. one of your hands find his hair as his mouth finds your nipple. you whimper, your other hand moving from his arm to rub your clit. michael's hand comes up to your throat, and you hum softly, letting him give it an experimental squeeze. instead of letting him choke you, you grab his hand, tangling your fingers with his. michael makes a small noise as you twitch around him, pinning your hand next to your head. "fuck-" he grunts, other hand finding your hip to stop you from sliding up the desk. "mm! michael!" you pant, fingers moving in fast circles over your clit, bringing you closer to your climax.

"come on, i know you're close." michael says gruffly, and you writhe under him, tightening your legs around his waist so he couldn't pull all the way out- forcing him into small yet fast thrusts. "fuck.." michael grunts, his grip on your hip bruising as he pulls you closer. he adored every little "ah" you'd let out as he fucks into you, craving more. what truly catches him off guard is the way your hand comes up to rest on his face lovingly, your other hand squeezing his tightly as you cum on his dick. your thighs spasm as you moan out his name, and michael cums too, filling you up. a few bangs on the door make you jump, and you sit up and see miss burnham and doctor addison. your nurse looks pissed, but doctor addison doesn't seem to mind all that much. "unlock the door, y/n!" she yells as you scramble to pull your pants up, michael doing the same with less worry.

"sorry miss burnham!" you reply, but she doesn't seem pleased. "come here, now!" she snaps, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. doctor addison whispers something to her that you can't hear through the door. michael brings your attention back to the room you're in by grabbing your hand tightly as he unlocks the door. as soon as the click is heard, miss burnham storms in, trying to snatch you from michael. "let go of them! you're taking advantage of their vulnerability, aren't you?!" she screeches, managing to pull you from michael's grasp and hiding you behind her. "it's not like that!" you struggle as doctor addison walks in. "now now, nurse burnham. go easy on them, teens tend to do this. you were a teenager once, weren't you?" he quirks a brow, clearly amused by the situation. "oh hush, doctor. relationships are strictly forbidden in the hospital, everyone knows that." she hisses, moving you out the door.

michael isn't pleased at all, his darling was being swept away and that made his blood boil. before you can be dragged far, michael storms after you, grabbing miss burnham's hair to shove her into the wall. she wails and falls over, ankle rolling painfully in her heels. "michael, no!" you yelp, grabbing his arm tightly to prevent him from doing anything. "don't hurt her!" you beg desperately, and michael deflates slightly, wrapping you up in his arms. "i'm sorry." he whispers, kissing the top of your head as he cradles you close. "i didn't mean to scare you." he says softly as you clutch him tightly. "miss burnham, are you okay?" you ask pulling away from michael slightly. "no! get away from him!" she demands, mascara running down her pretty face as her ankle swells. doctor addison is trying to aid her as security approach the scene. michael wants to pull you away, you can tell, but you stand your ground incase he gets into anymore trouble.

"freeze!" the man yells, pulling out a tazer. you whimper at the gun like object, memories flooding back to you. michael's hold grounds you as he hides you from the guards by pushing you up against his chest, fingers gently stroking your scalp to try and soothe you as your breathing picks up and tears drip down your face. "step away from them and put your hands up!" he demands, but michael stands his ground. "i said-!" the guard squeezes the trigger, and michael doesn't even flinch as he focuses on protecting you.

"well well, causing trouble again, mr myers?" the voice of doctor loomis steps over to the scene, his clean shoes clacking against the laminate floors. michael narrows his eyes at the man, moving away with you slightly. "c'mon, hand your little partner over and solitary won't be as bad." he says, and you look up at michael. "just go with them, i'll be in my room when you come back." you smile up at him weakly through your tears, and he seems unsure. "go on, go. i don't want you getting hurt... i promise we can see each other when you're free." you say, ushering him away. reluctantly, michael goes with doctor loomis and you sit next to miss burnham, giving her a tight hug. "i'm so sorry.." you whimper as she hugs you back. "are you alright?" she asks when you pull away, cupping your face in her hands. you nod slightly with a sniffle, helping her up and letting her lean on you as doctor addison stands. "it's probably broken, which means you'll be out of commission for a little while." he suggests, sighing. "what?! but who will take care of y/n?" her eyes widen as you help her to the staff infirmary of the hospital.

when you're in your room, you feel tired and lonely. it's been a long afternoon with doctors running around to find a new carer for you while miss burnham went home to recover. most of all, you were terrified that michael was being treated unfairly. there were sick rumours of doctor loomis mistreating patients, but you'd have to wait and see.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween resurrection

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heartcal · 4 years ago

Text

“who do you believe?”; l.h. (pt. ii)

oh my GOD it’s here, it took longer than expected but she’s finally here! after the eye strain i got a sty so that threw me in for a loop, but the good news is my eyes are better! and i’m fully vaccinated too! please get the vaccine if you are able to :^) enjoy!

a/n: (formatting again lol) there’s a part where there’s supposed to be texts (in italics) so it may be a bit weird to read (hopefully not) (sorry for these parantheses) please let me know if there’s anything off!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

warnings: swearing (as usual),

genre: angst, fluff, basically friends (to brief enemies but not really) to lovers?

wc: 5,201 (they’re getting longer, huh)

taglist: @1sosrvd1267 + @wowitsel (side note: i don’t have a current taglist, this is just for this fic!)

part one | my masterlist!

You skipped the after-party that night. You couldn’t bear standing in the same room as Luke and Rachel, so you booked a ride and left as soon as the car pulled up.

Had you stayed for the party, you would have crumbled under the looks of pity thrown at you by those who would have heard about what happened. The knowing looks that something bad had happened between two people everyone on the crew knew were best friends would have been uncomfortable.

The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but you were thankful the driver wasn’t the talkative type. The soft jazz playing on the radio wasn’t calming but it did distract you from the pain and embarrassment you felt from the argument.

Once the car had pulled up to your place, you bid a silent farewell to the driver and slid out.

You just wanted to get inside, take a shower, shut your phone for the night, and sleep until you physically can’t get any more sleep.

You’re not too surprised Luke stood up for his girlfriend. He does love her—he’s shown that with friends and with fans. But the way he glared at you, defended her without trying to find out what exactly went down…he had never looked at you like that.

You’ve seen that look before; it wasn’t something you were used to but it was the look he would give paparazzi when they would harass you, the guys, and his friends. The glare carried such strength that it would make people back off. And so when it was directed towards you, it struck you hard.

Having done what you wanted to do once you entered the house, you lay in bed with wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Your phone was face down on your nightstand, completely out of reach to the point one slight touch could knock it off.

Maybe you were the one at fault. Maybe you should’ve told the truth about your feelings to Rachel or Luke before this all happened. It could have prevented the fallout and you would be with the guys and the crew celebrating a successful show.

But what good would that have done? Had you told someone, anyone, that you liked Luke more than a best friend should, would that have caused the same problem but presented differently? Or would something come from it? Maybe nothing would have happened.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your back away from the nightstand, facing the empty half of the bed and before your mind drifts to more pitiful thoughts, you close your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. It’s as if you blinked, with the night flying by faster than you had wanted and anticipated.

The sunlight beamed down on you from above your headboard. It was late morning and it was time to face the harsh reality of the day.

There is no doubt you have lost Luke as your best friend.

Wiping the sleep and crust from your eyes, you sit up and vacantly glance around the room. The box where you keep gifts from Luke is illuminated by the sunlight, and with the vacant stare you stand to walk towards it.

You hesitate to open it; it’ll bring back memories of good times and with the events of the previous night, you do not think you can handle the rush of emotions.

It’s then when you realize your phone was off, and though you don’t want to do anything social today and would rather stay home with your favorite snacks and shows, you know you have to let your friends know how you’re doing.

You stall by washing your face and brushing your teeth, albeit slower than usual. You know that once you turn your phone on, the onslaught of questions and missed calls are going to take possibly an hour to clear up.

Sure enough, as you turn your phone on, the missed messages come in, barely giving your notification tone a break and the missed calls and voicemails were coming in fast. You can feel the heat from the battery on your palm, and for the sake of the phone you switch the sound off and turn on Do Not Disturb to prevent any new calls from coming through.

The messages you saw were from the crew, asking where you went and if you were okay. Others were from the boys minus Luke, and looking through the missed calls, there was nothing from Luke.

You’re not surprised, but the pain was still simmering within and seeing no messages or missed calls from him was adding to it.

You responded to the crew’s messages first, since many of them sent one or two messages asking simple questions: “Are you okay,” “Where did you go,” and “Did you get home safe?”

Then you responded to the boys’, Michael’s first since he had the least amount of messages.

hey, you didn’t have to leave. we could’ve talked some sense into him when he calmed down (11:37pm)

did u get home okay? we know you didn’t drive here yourself. (11:58pm)

please let us know you made it home. let us know you’re okay (12:10am)

hope you made it home and that you’re safe and okay. thank u for ur work today. please text me when you see these. goodnight (12:49am)

You typed your reply to him, letting him know that you were okay and got home safe.

Calum’s messages were similar, asking the same questions but some were repeated to emphasize his worry. In response, you answered his questions like Michael’s.

But even before you can open Ashton’s messages, seeing double digits next to your conversation with him, rapid knocks on your front door grab your attention.

With a groan you stand and grab your robe from the hook on the door, wrapping it tightly around your body as you open the door and groggily walk to the front door.

It was a stupid idea, as you weren’t ready to face anyone yet Ashton stands in front of you. He’s well-rested, a stark contrast to you as you were sure your eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, along with an occasional sniffle from your nose.

His eyes travel from your face, down to your feet, and back up to your eyes. He can immediately tell you had a terrible night.

“You weren’t answering anyone last night,” he begins, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, “we were worried about you after you left.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I just—I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“You could’ve let one of us know that you were shutting off.”

You nodded with a frown, “I could have, yeah,” your eyes dart around behind him to avoid his worrisome eyes before asking him if he wanted to come in.

He doesn’t hesitate and steps in once you move aside, opening the door wider to give him enough room. He notes your bag in a heap on the floor a few inches away from the couch, and how your shoes were far apart, with one upside down, as if you flung them off.

“How are you holding up now?”

You shrug, still avoiding his eyes because you know if you make eye contact, you’ll break down and you won’t have control over the onslaught of emotions.

“Be honest,” his voice is soft, wanting to make you feel comfortable enough to open up.

You stare at the ground, biting the skin of your lower lip nervously. This is why you did not want to talk to anyone face-to-face. Talking to them over the phone, preferably through text, allowed you to lie to the other person (and if applicable, to yourself). But talking to someone in person, and to someone who can see through your lies, you were bound to break down and become vulnerable.

You inhale, taking careful steps to the couch and gently sitting down with a sigh. Ashton follows you, sitting next to you but giving you space to not overwhelm you.

“What happened last night—,” you lean back with your arms folded over your chest, “—was something that I feared. When I realized I liked Luke, I was so worried about him finding out and what the outcome would be. I knew from the beginning that things would never be the same if he found out, and I was afraid of the change that would come from it.”

Ashton listens intently, his eyes displaying sincerity as he listens to you list off your worries. What he saw last night bothered him to no end, and had he not exerted most of his energy during the show, he would not have slept at all and would have stayed up all night in a constant state of worry.

“So, now that Rachel knows, and no doubt Luke has caught on, I don’t know what to do. I responded to everyone’s texts before you arrived, and Luke sent nothing—not even a phone call.”

Ashton nods, swallowing before speaking, “Well, after you left, things went down that may be the reason why he hasn’t tried contacting you.”

Your head turns to face him, eyebrows furrowed as confusion embeds itself across the rest of your features.

Ashton readjusts himself, getting comfortable in his seat as he gathers the right words.

“Something happened after I left?” You ask as you shift in your seat to face him.

“Michael wanted to go after you, to at least offer you a ride back, but Calum went back to tell Luke that it was bullshit what happened. So, Michael went back to make sure they wouldn’t fight or anything. I also pointed out that he was a dick; choosing you over her when he’s known you the longest didn’t sit right with us. But he got defensive and kept wanting to leave but Rachel convinced him it was alright, so they stayed for the party. But the party was bad—the crew felt the tension and the vibes were down—,” he chuckles at the word choice, getting a small laugh out of you as well, “—it brought everyone out of the energetic and ecstatic mood we were in before the confrontation. We all kinda did our own thing during the party but we noticed things were tense between Luke and Rachel. And when the party ended, shit hit the fan.”

“What happened?”

Ashton sighs, “To make the long story short, they got into an argument when we were leaving the venue after Michael brought up your name. He said something like, ‘I hope they got home safe,’ and that you weren’t answering your phone at all. Calum and I pointed out, again, how rude Luke was to you and Luke kept defending himself. Rachel dropped an insult and something shifted. Basically, they’re done and the guys and I can finally fucking breathe.”

“Wait—,” you stand with bulging eyes, “—wait, are you saying they broke up?”

Ashton hums as he watches you mindlessly walk around your living room.

The guys have been waiting for their break-up. It’s not something they were open about, as to avoid any conflict with their best friend, but it was almost an unspoken agreement: Rachel was not liked.

As for you, it’s not like you were wishing for their break-up. You wanted Luke to be happy, and if he was happy in that relationship, then so be it. But you were not a fan of it. Yeah, you liked her in the beginning but when she started disregarding you as if you did something to offend her, you lost most of your respect for her. Now, with this news of their break-up, you don’t know what to do.

Are you happy? You don’t exactly feel happy about it, but there is some relief.

“So,” you sit back down on the couch slowly, “what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Not sure,” Ashton shrugs, “but I recommend talking to Luke.”

You shake your head fervently, “No. I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“But you’re talking to me,” Ashton has a smirk, but you know there’s no malice behind his joke.

“You showed up unannounced, Ash,” you smile, “I was responding to everyone who sent messages and voicemails. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else in person.”

He holds his hands up in defense, “Fair enough, but don’t be a stranger.”

He gives you a quick hug, whispering something similar to ‘don’t shut Luke out’ before he pulls away and walks out.

Ashton’s words stuck with you for the next week. You felt comfortable enough a few days after the fact to contact the boys, eventually meeting up with Ashton and Calum for lunch and third-wheeling Michael and his fiancée. The only person out of your friend group and co-workers you have not contacted was Luke. He hasn’t contacted you either, but you do not think much about it as you’re still trying to figure things out. If he were to contact you, how do you talk about what happened?

You want to know why he was able to choose his then-girlfriend over you, but at the same time you don’t want to know the answer. You know that one day, and though it hurts, you will not be his number one. With the way he behaved that night, it felt like that dreadful moment came to earlier than expected, that he found his number one and you immediately became his second go-to person.

So it did surprise you when you were out with an old friend to receive a text from Luke.

Can we talk about what happened? (2:23pm)

You only stare blankly at the text, not even moving to type a response. You were in such a good mood, and not even this text would change it. Instead, you lock your phone and place it back in your pocket, noting to leave it alone until your day out comes to an end.

And when it does, you see that more texts from Luke had arrived, the final being sent an hour before the outing ended.

I know you’re mad, I understand that and I don’t blame you but please talk to me (2:31pm)

You’re reading these, please say something (2:33pm)

There are some things that I need to clear up with you, I want to apologize for what happened that night but I want to do it face to face. Please respond. (3:57pm)

Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Sorry if I’m bombarding you with these texts, I just don’t want to lose you over something that I realize now should not have happened. Respond when you want to, I’ll be here. (5:49pm)

You could only let out a small chuckle at the persistent requests to talk, and you don’t deny the small—minuscule, honestly—flutter in your stomach. You don’t waste any time responding.

Sorry, I was busy. We can meet somewhere to talk. (7:08pm)

He responds about five minutes later, agreeing to meet at a small café the two of you love tomorrow afternoon.

The rest of the night for you is spent thinking of ways to carry yourself, being completely confident, and accepting the fact that you love your best friend. Pep talks in the shower and mirror to calm any arising nerves, revising the topics you want to talk about in your head so you keep the confidence.

As for Luke, he was struggling to gather all his thoughts. In the beginning, he thoroughly enjoyed the fact that you and Rachel got along. He liked seeing his best friend and girlfriend become friends like that. He didn’t notice the shift, however, and he wishes he did before things got out of hand.

When he defended Rachel, without finding out the story from all sides, he thought he was doing what was right. To him, friendships and relationships have the same base, but romantic relationships with a partner have a different structure than friendships do, and he was starting to see cracks in his friendship before he saw it in his relationship.

When he confronted Rachel after she insulted you, he started to see someone he never saw. He remembered the times Rachel ignored you, sometimes playing it off as if she never heard you. He remembered how she would make plans with everyone and exclude you, but he always played it off as an accident (even if he knew it wasn’t). He remembered all these times he noticed a change in mood when the two of you were in the same room, and he couldn’t believe he turned a blind eye to all of it.

It hurt him to break-up with Rachel—he won’t deny that because he did love her. It’s not that he saw the rest of his life with her as they weren’t at that mark in the relationship.

But, when he did picture his future, he always saw you. He always thought it was just as a friend, someone who was just joined at the hip. Yet, he was quick to throw that away for someone he rarely saw when he pictured the future.

Which is why, the next day, as he sits at a booth near the window of the café, he carefully goes over what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to ruin the chance to fix things between the two of you. If it goes awry, not only does he lose you, but his friendships with the band and the team will take a hit since they all love you.

The bell above the door rings making his head turn to watch you walk in. Your eyes danced around the café before they fell on him.

He couldn’t help the smile the formed on his lips, a small breath of relief escaping as he watches you walk towards him. The smile doesn’t stay long though, because as you sit down with a stoic expression, the reality hits him.

“I got your usual,” he’s shy and timid, pushing the mug toward you as he eyes the liquid nearly spills the edge.

You mumble a ‘thanks,’ grabbing the mug and taking a small sip. It falls silent as the two of you wonder who should start first.

Luke makes the move first. He sighs, sitting up straight and wiping his palms on his pants.

He’s nervous. When the guys started touring, visiting new cities and countries, he would always be nervous and constantly wiped his hands on his thighs, sitting up straight and even straighter if he wasn’t slouching. It’s an old habit, but something you remember fondly as he had grown out of it. Or so you thought.

“I want to start with I’m sorry,” he begins, making eye contact but fails to hold it. His eyes instead drift to his drink, “I know what I did was wrong, and I put you in a spot that hurt you and disregarded you. At the moment, I thought I was doing the right thing because she was my girlfriend, but then—” he gulps, “when she insulted you, it struck a nerve and, not to sound cliché or anything, it felt like it opened my eyes. I saw someone I didn’t see when I first met them.”

You don’t respond, just nodding your head to let him know you’re listening.

He licks his lips before continuing, “When the guys brought up how you left on your own, I was feeling nervous and they started reminding me how much of a dick I was to you. I didn’t want to admit it myself, but now, I was such an ass. I’m just—I’m so sorry for what happened.”

“Luke,” you sigh, shifting in your seat, “I’m not saying I forgive you but I accept your apology. It hurt me so much that a friend, someone I’ve known for years was just so quick to turn their back and take someone else’s side. I know she was your girlfriend, but I wish you didn’t do what you did.”

“If I could go back and fix it, I would.”

You only nod again, trying to think about other things that need to be talked about. The one topic you hope to avoid is the possibility of him knowing your feelings—something you do not want to discuss, at least not yet.

“Did she say anything to you?”

The question leaves your mouth before you register it, and the widening of your eyes catches Luke off guard.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, grabbing your mug and taking a long sip.

“She didn’t tell me what started the problems between you two, if that’s what you mean,” Luke smiles a bit, watching you nervously play with the mug’s handle after the sip. It fades when your eyes move up to meet his, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it isn’t important anymore. She’s out of the picture, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The silence returns, but unlike the previous bout, it’s a calming silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the air is easier to breathe and the tension isn’t unsettling.

“Where do we go from here?” Luke asks, nervously wringing his fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Luke,” you offer a smile, “but it’s going to take some time to ‘heal,’ if you will.”

Luke smiles again, this time a bigger grin. He nods, leaning back in his seat, “Let me know what I can do to make things better. I’ll do it if I get to keep you.”

Over the next few months, your friendship with Luke was rekindled. The guys were at ease now that Rachel was gone and you seemingly had taken her place, even though you were friends. The awkward glances they would give when Rachel was in the same room were now playful rolls of the eyes over a dumb joke or pranks. You didn’t miss out on any outings you wanted to go to, now that everyone invited would check in with each other the night before. Things went back to the way they were before Rachel.

There was a change in your friendship, however. It wasn’t something you noticed right away, but it was something you thought about at night just a few weeks ago. Luke paid more attention to you, not that he didn’t pay attention before, but this was a noticeable change where he still looks at you even after you finished talking, and would only look away from you when you caught him. He would always cover his mouth with his index and middle finger, but you saw a small smile behind them. You played it off as friendly teasing, but it tugs on your heartstrings.

Another noticeable change is the hugs. Duration-wise, they were relatively the same. However the touch lingered; if he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, an arm would stay around your shoulder, meanwhile if they were around your waist, his hand would stay on the small of your back. You played it off as a friend being protective, but yet again, it did nothing to stop your growing love.

Tonight was the first night of their tour. The boys were up to their usual pre-show antics, as well as the nervous habits; Michael fixing his hair and deciding whether to go with a beanie or a hat, or neither, Ashton was warming up with his pre-show playlist, Calum testing his bass, and Luke was relatively fine.

Sure, he was nervous because it isn’t a crowd of 500, close to 20,000, but he was calm compared to the last time he performed. He didn’t have any worries to talk about, his vocal warm-ups were smooth, and getting dressed up was a breeze. He shared chuckles with you as you both watched the others move around with tense expressions (all with no malice, of course).

“You sure you’re not on edge?” you nudge Luke with your arm as he leans forward on the couch your sitting on to fix his shoe.

“Nope,” he sits up, leaning back in his seat.

“Really?” you inquire again, doubt laced in your tone with a hint of teasing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “if anything I’m excited about tonight.”

You hum, crossing your arms as you watch Ashton walk over.

“Ten minutes left,” he nods at Luke before walking to Michael to tell him the same thing.

You give Luke a look, wanting to get him to admit he is nervous, but all you get is a smirk and a shrug. He stands, patting your shoulder left before walking away to put in his in-ears.

You won’t deny you still don’t have feelings for him. Throughout the past few months, you were able to pinpoint the reasons why you fell for him. The small acts, the obscure things he would remember about you—especially the ones you don’t remember yourself—with the attention he would give you. It was staring you in the face, but you chose to deny all the signals to give yourself the satisfaction of thinking it was just a phase. But now you know why you love him.

Two minutes until showtime, Ashton finishes his speech and the crew is taking their places. The band stands at the opening, waiting for their cue to head out.

As you watched them hype themselves up, you noticed Luke looking around nervously. Of course.

“Nervous?”

His head whips toward you, and you can see it in his eyes.

“A little,” he mumbles, but you don’t hear it over the crowd’s excited screams.

“You got this,” you grab his shoulders to make him look you in the eyes, “like Ash said, you guys worked your asses off for this album. The fans loved it, your shows are all sold out, and you have thousands out there waiting to see you kill it.”

He’s silent, blue eyes staring into yours as they bounce from one eye to the other.

“I love you,” he blurts, loud enough just for you to hear.

You freeze, the grip on his shoulder loosens but remain.

He notices, “She did tell me something that night, and whether or not it’s true, I-I love you.”

“Sixty seconds!” a stage recites in the earpieces.

The boys turn to look at both of you, curious eyes turn into surprise as they watch your expression.

“I don’t know how long, I don’t know when, and I don’t know what it was, but I know for sure.”

Your eyes glance at Ashton briefly, not missing the knowing smile he gives you before you look back into Luke’s eyes.

“I…love you, too,” you respond, gripping his shoulders while your eyes drop down to his shiny shoes.

He doesn’t hear you over the cheers and screams, but reading your lips he knows the answer.

Luke smiles, grabbing the back of your head and kissing your forehead.

He leans down to your ear, “I expect to hear you say it when I come back.”

With flashing lights scattering across the stage, the boys run out to the stage, big smiles gracing their faces for multiple reasons with adrenaline pumping through their veins. From backstage, you watch the show you a smile, feeling high from the brief but fulfilling confession.

It’s two hours later when the show ends. Your heart is pounding as you watch the crew celebrate the successful first show.

Luke pulls you away from the crowd, into the hallway and away from the noise.

“So it was true, what Rachel said?” Luke begins, his hand still holding yours as a shy smile forms.

“What did she say?”

He exhales air through his nose in a laugh, “She said you were in love with me, and that you were trying to break us up.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you look at your intertwined fingers. He squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I doubt that last part, but the first part I’m hoping is true in a sense.”

Your eyes meet his, adoration swimming in them bringing a smile to your face, “There may be a strong crush I have on you,” you tease, “and it may or may not have turned into love.”

He laughs, letting go of your hand to wrap you in a hug. His head dips down, his forehead on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. He moves slightly, whispering in your ear, “Say it.”

Your head rested against his chest, hearing his heart beat rapidly and rhythmically.

“I love you,” you whisper.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he pulls away, his arms resting on your hips as he smiles down at you.

“If you’d like,” he begins, his tone timid now, “that place you like in Seattle has a new dish. It’s our next stop…” he drifts off, hoping you’d catch on to him asking you out.

You do, laughing at how he remembered yet another thing you seem to have forgotten. It was a themed restaurant that had some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, and for days you wouldn’t stop talking about it. But you never went back to it, even during breaks, but somehow he seemed to remember.

“Yes, Luke.”

You know the shock will hit you later that night, that finally the person you’ve fallen for, who happens to be your best friend, admitted his feelings to you. But you’re happy, Luke’s happy, and with the boys’ and crew’s reaction to the two of you walking back to the area where they’re celebrating, the happiness is infectious.

On the road in the tour bus, Ashton passes you as you respond to emails.

“Thanks for not shutting him out,” he says, drinking a small bottle of water from the fridge.

“Did you know?”

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes as he finishes the bottle and tosses it in the recycling bag. “Maybe,” he walks towards the back where the beds are, “maybe not.”

You shake your head, “You did.”

“Didn’t want to spoil it,” he gives you a quick hug before retreating to bed.

Luke walks out of the bathroom shortly after, taking his spot next to you.

“Go to bed,” you slightly shift your shoulder as he lays his head on it, “you need the rest.”

“No,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his tone, “feels like a dream. Don’t wanna wake up.”

You chuckle at his nonsense, finishing off the last email before shutting the laptop and placing it on the counter next to you. You adjust yourself on the couch to have Luke lay down with you. He readjusts himself so he doesn’t crush you, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his head on your chest.

“I wish I had known before all the drama,” he mumbles again, eyes closed, “I want you in my life, always.”

He drifts off to sleep with that, a faint smile on his lips.

You know what made you fall in love with your best friend. You accept it now, and you’re at peace knowing the feeling is mutual.

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germvity · 4 years ago

Text

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 7 // wallflower blooming

"that felt really good..." you whisper, and he agrees. "i've been waiting to do that.." he admits with a small laugh. you giggle too, giving him another eskimo kiss as you coddle him close. "trials might start soon..." you say, glancing out the cracked window at the brightened (yet still dark) sky. "nah, we still have a while." leon grins, leaning in to give you a loving smooch. you hum happily, cupping his face as his tongue gently brushes against your bottom lip. "we have at least an hour.." leon trails off, and you catch his meaning immediately. "yeah, we do." you smile.

tags: smooching, a lot of it, relationship development, it aint official yet, leon being a good boy, mild crying

warnings: smexy time, leon giving head :), he just wants to pamper you, very much a people pleaser, me trying to write this as gn as possible without implying any genitalia <3, fingering, semi-public sex?? leon having a praise kink, leon being a sub bc ur welcome, blowjob and handjob for leon hc he's a good boy that deserves love

tag list:

@trinswhimsys , @hex-touchstarved <3

---

you felt safer in trials with leon. a special bond formed between the two of you after that night, and the entity only spawns you both together in trials. you were a team, and a powerful one. with you eliminating totems and any traps and leon pumping out gens and distracting the killer from you. the entity grows amused as it watches the killers scramble to combat your powerful strategies. leon huffs as he finds you at the gate, he left ghostface in the dust after you taught him how to evade them better. you grin at him, and he smiles, leaning in to give you a soft kiss as you open the gate. "thanks for getting rid of noed." he says softly as you grab his hands to pull him through the gate. "no problem, can't have the pretty boy dying." you tease as he rolls his eyes and follows you. "hey.." you say softly before the two of you leave. "hm? what's wrong?" leon stops too, letting you fiddle with his hands, a habit you picked up when you're nervous.

"what... what are we?" you ask quietly, and leon thinks for a moment. "what do you want us to be?" he asks, watching your face carefully. "i... don't know..." you whisper, letting him pull you into a hug. "well... i want us to be a thing, but i don't wanna push you." leon admits, and you nod. "i know.. but... it just doesn't feel real that someone as good as you likes me..." you sigh, resting your forehead against him as he holds you tighter. "nonsense, of course i do." he smiles, giving your forehead a soft kiss as the ground shakes. "c'mon, lets go before we get killed." he says softly, pulling you through the gate and into safety.

the two of you arrive at your shack, and you sigh as you flop down onto the bed. leon chuckles at your exhausted expression as he takes off his new jacket. "you alright?" he asks softly as he sits next to you. humming with a nod, and you take his hands in yours to fiddle with them idly. "what's up?" he asks, watching you play with his fingers. "hm?" your eyes find his, and he gestures to your joined hands with his head. "you normally do this when you're nervous. what's wrong?"

"nothing, just tired." you reply quietly, and leon hums. "alright.." he sounds unsure but lets it go as you pull one of his hands to your cheek. "i just like your hands." you admit, and he chuckles. "alright, i see that." leon's worry melts away and you smile. "what'cha thinking about?" you ask him softly, sitting up to look at him. "just what you said outside the gate." he replies, blushing slightly. "oh..." you huff, clambering into his lap to hug him. leon's arms wrap around your waist as he hooks his head on your shoulder. you nuzzle his neck, rubbing his back gently. "what do you want us to be?" he asks again, voice soft. "i... i do really want to be with you too... but i'm too scared." you admit, and leon hums. "you don't have to be scared." he replies softly, adjusting you in his lap so you were comfy. you sigh, closing your eyes as leon gives your cheek a soft kiss. "i'll always be here for you." the blonde assures you, and you hum. "i know. i'm just scared that i'll either lose you, or you'll change your mind." you say, your arms tightening on him.

"i'll never change my mind, you know that. and i'll never turn my back on you, or think any less of you. i'll be here." leon smiles, resting his head on yours. you sniffle slightly as you nod, "thank you... i just... after everything it feels so surreal that someone cares about me." you say softly, tears wetting his neck. "i know. it's hard to adjust to, but we're making progress." leon says, giving your head soft scratches to comfort you. you sigh, leaning onto him more, pinning him between the wall and your body. "tired?" he asks softly, and you shake your head no. "wanna go for a walk?" you sit back, waiting for his response. "sure, we can avoid the camps and go through one of the realms?" he suggests, and you nod. "the red forest is pretty, can we go there?" you ask softly, and leon chuckles with a nod. "sure, c'mon." he lets you pull him up from the bed and grabs his jacket and an offering on his way out.

your eyes find some fireflies that are floating near the gate. they're peaceful, and leon follows your gaze to the luminous bugs. "c'mon, i think theres a pond in a forbidden area. i used to hide there then get hatch in trails before i got a bit braver." you pull leon along by his hand. "what if it's been blocked off?" he suggests, and you hum in thought. "then we can sit in a quiet area." you smile and leon nods, "alright." the crack in the wall was boarded up, and you try pushing them. the bent nails creak under your weight as leon moves you out of the way. readying himself, his boot goes through the boards. you clap slightly, grinning at him. "that was hot." you tease, pulling the blushing blonde through the crack.

the pond is peaceful, and you sit happily next to the bank. leon joins you, watching you cradle a beetle before it jumps off and scurries away. "this is nice." leon smiles, and you nod. "i found it by accident, luckily it's in the corner so no one knows about it." you shrug, leaning against leon as he admires the clear water. "wanna bathe?" he asks teasingly, but freezes when you nod. "yeah, i'm covered in dirt." you laugh, standing to strip your dirty shirt off. you offer leon your hand, and he quickly takes it. you grasp his hands with both of yours, and it takes most of your weight to actually haul him up, it's cute.

leon lets you take off his jacket for him, and takes off his shirt. you admire a scar on his torso, fingertips rubbing his tender skin. "michael got you good, huh?" you mumble, and leon huffs out a laugh. "yeah, he did. he's surprisingly strong." leon shrugs, glancing to your lips out of habit. you catch his gaze, and lean in slightly. leon takes the invitation, kissing you lovingly as your hand tangles in his hair. his hands travel across the bare skin of your sides, and he deepens the kiss as you hum softly. your other hand stays on his chest as you lean closer to him, letting the officer rest his forehead against yours when he breaks away. "you're a really good kisser." he laughs sheepishly, and you smile, gifting him another soft peck. leon smiles, his finger tips slipping under the waistband of your pants. "can i?" he asks softly, ever the gentleman. you nod, helping him remove his pants as you give him another kiss.

you grin, and leon smiles too, but when you move him back he has to trust you. you giggle as you push him back and he hits the cold water with a gasp. "hey!" he laughs, splashing you with the water as you join him. "sorry, it was too tempting." you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck as you give him a kiss as an apology. leon smiles into the kiss, his hand finding your back as he pulls you up against him. eventually, his lips find your neck and you hum softly at the feeling. "fuck.. can i make you feel good?" he asks softly against your skin. your thighs shuffle at the thought and you nod. "let me hear you, can i?" he asks again, wanting full consent (hot). "yes, you can." you smile, and leon grins, this time pushing you back to settle between your legs on the bank of the pond. you help him by removing your underwear for him.

he grips your thighs, and your fingers find his hair as he kisses your soft skin, fingers gently stroking your legs. you feel your arousal build, and you whine softly as he nips the flesh of your right thigh. "patience, i want you to feel good." he says softly, moving to pamper your left thigh as well. you huff, letting him lick a soft stripe along your skin and growing slightly frustrated when he pulls away. his teeth sink into your thigh and you moan softly as he suckles a dark hickey onto your skin. fingers tightening in his hair as he licks the bruise lovingly, you cant help but shuffle your hips to him. leon holds you in place as he leaves a bigger hicker further up your leg, before switching to give attention to your other thigh. you moan softly as his fingers begin to stimulate you, rolling your hips into his hand. leon chuckles into your thigh, the vibrations going straight through you as he moves his mouth to your sensitive area. you gasp, trying to push his head closer as he suckles you, fingers slipping to your hole to give you more pleasure. "oh, fuck! leon-" you whimper, grinding onto his face as you pet his hair. "good boy..~" you can't help but moan, and leon smiles against your lower area. "ahh- you're such a good boy, fuck.. that feels really good." you praise and it encourages him to try harder, desperate for your words of affirmation.

"leon!" you yelp, thighs wrapping around his head as his fingers prod that bundle of nerves. leon grins as he breaks away to give you a teasing lick. "f-fuck, please!" you whimper as his mouth covers you again, tongue kitten licking you. "you're doing so well, such a good boy for me.." you keen, back arching as your thighs tighten around his head, fingers gripping his blonde locks. "fuck, you look so pretty between my legs.~" you grin as he flusters, humming against your core. "keep going, you're doing so well." you encourage, and leon drags his tongue along you before going back for more. you groan as you thrust your hips into his mouth. leon hums again, fingers still pumping into you as his mouth does the rest. "you're so good." you moan, still trying to fuck his face as his hands can't find it in them to stop you.

leon whimpers against your pelvis, letting you practically take control as you grip his hair and roll your hips. "oh, good boy. so pretty as i fuck your pretty mouth." you grin, watching the tips of his ears turn red as he moans against you. "fuck, you're so pretty." you continue praising him, hips beginning to stutter as you grow closer. "mm, fuck i'm close. you're doing so well." you huff, using the hand on his head to help continue grinding into his mouth. you moan his name as you cum in his mouth, and leon shudders at the feeling of your fluid gushing onto his tongue.

pulling away, you watch the blonde swallow nicely and pulling you into his lap to coddle you. "good boy, you did so well.." you smile as leon giggles into your neck. "thank you..." he smiles, and you grin as you feel his erection. "want me to take care of you?" you ask softly, shuffling off his lap as he lets out a small hum. "hm? i can't hear you..." you tease as he gasps when your hand presses against his bulge. "yes, yes please!" he begs, letting you remove his boxers. the blonde whimpers as your hand wraps around his shaft, giving him a few pumps before you move down to lick his head.

"a-ah!" he yelps as your warm mouth envelopes his tip, trying not to buck his hips into you. you continue to pump his shaft, tongue teasing his slit. "p-please, i need more- pleasepleaseplease!" leon begs, moaning sweetly as you give him a soft suck. "please i need you!" he whimpers, letting you drape his thighs over your shoulders as he lays back. "shh, let me take care of you." you smile, going back down on him. "ah! you feel so good..!" he keens as your mouth moves down his shaft. the blonde yelps when your teeth gently scrape along his cock, and you hum softly, the vibration driving him crazy. his moans grow loud as his hand finds yours. tangling your fingers with his, you let him slowly roll his hips up into your throat as he whines.

the wind picks up familiarly, you pull off him much to his dismay. "shhh!" you hush him, and he whimpers softly. "a trial is starting, you don't want to get caught do you?" you grin as he shakes his head. "then be quiet, they won't know." you say before wrapping your mouth around him again. leon's free hand clasps over his mouth as he moans behind his palm. the humming of the huntress picks up, and so does leon's anxiety. his hand tightens on yours as you slowly drag your tongue up to his head. "it's okay.." you whisper to him, taking his other hand and holding that one as you go back down on him.

leon whimpers, feeling exposed as he clenches his jaw, trying not to make any noise. "fuck, y/n.." he whines, voice cracking as he tries to keep his noise below a whisper. you rub his knuckles sweetly as you bob your head at a steady pace. leon's back arches, and he whimpers softly, clearly yet slowly getting louder. you squeeze his hand to keep him grounded, and he squeezes back as your tongue teases a vein. leon's breathing hitches as you continue to pamper the prominent vein, popping off his cock to suckle it. "ah!" he yelps, and you pull away to hush him. "be a good boy, and stay quiet or they'll find us!" you whisper to him before lowering again.

the scream of meg makes leon wince, having almost completely forgotten that a trial was going on. "fuck, oh.. please." he mumbles desperately, trying to buck up into your mouth as his orgasm grows near. "ah ah ah, behave." you pull off him, and leon whines with want, not wanting to lose his high. you smile, moving your hand to massage his balls as your mouth engulfs his shaft. he claps his hand over his mouth, loud groans muffled. you tap his hand, and he nods. "so close, so close! please please please!" he keens, practically going feral as he tries to fuck into your mouth again. you decide he's been good, and let him take control slightly. tears of bliss drip from his lashes, and he fucks your mouth desperately, moaning behind his hand as he twitches then suddenly cums into your mouth.

"ah..!" he sighs, letting you off as you swallow. "good boy. you feel okay?" you ask softly, fingers tracing lines on his outer thighs. leon nods, drowsy from his intense peak. "good, this trial will probably last for a little while longer and i wanna see how many times i can make you cum." you grin as leon whimpers.

#leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #dbd leon #dead by daylight resident evil #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd x reader #germvity writing

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pastelwitchling · 3 years ago

Text

Somebody to You (1/4)

Chapter 1. Hidden Feelings

Alex Manes is Michael's best friend in the entire world. His platonic soulmate, in fact. That's why, when Michael discovers that Alex is in love with him, he panics. Rather than risk the loss of his friendship, Michael begs his brother Max to date Alex instead, and divert his affections. Though hesitant at first, Max agrees for the sake of helping his brother. But what happens when Max realizes that there is more to Alex than he first thought? Romance ensues, and as Max and Alex become closer, Max realizes that what had started as a favor to Michael has turned all too real. The only problem is that Michael never expected Max to actually fall in love. Can Max stay with Alex knowing that their beginning is based on the worst kind of betrayal?

High school was hard enough without your best friend falling in love with you.

Not that there was anything wrong with Alex Manes, guys and girls both had to admit he was pretty to look at, but he was Michael’s best friend. When he’d first come out to him last year, Michael had very pointedly not teased the question, You don’t have a crush on me, do you?

Now, he didn’t know whether or not that had been the right move. If he’d asked, would Alex have blushed and given himself away? Or would he have been insulted? Or would he have rolled his eyes at the question like he did any time Michael said something stupid?

Maybe if he’d asked, he wouldn’t have found out by accidentally eavesdropping on Alex’s private conversation with Liz. Maybe he wouldn’t have heard Alex’s tears, heard his voice as strung out as it had been, fueled by exhaustion and fear.

“What if he doesn’t say no?” Liz tried, the words more a plea than an actual consideration to Michael’s ears. He could hear her desperate desire for her own words to be true, and the resignation in the knowledge that they weren’t. “What if he likes you back?”

“He won’t,” Alex cried, and made Michael’s grip on the music room door handle tighten. “He’ll never talk to me again.”

“Michael loves you,” Liz insisted. “He’ll love you even if you want something more. Look,” she was speaking more quickly now, “maybe if you tell him, you’ll feel better. Right? That’s why you’re crying, isn’t it? It’s just another huge weight on your shoulders, but if he knows that you’ve loved him since middle school, then – then maybe at least he’ll stop rubbing his one-night stands in your face!”

She sounded furious at the mention of it. Michael thought about the last blonde, nameless girl he’d had two nights ago, the way he’d latched to Alex’s back the next day, eager to tell him all about it. The way Alex, the dark circles around his eyes darker for reasons other than the eyeliner, had shrugged him off and murmured some excuse about getting to class.

Shame swelled in his chest until he realized he had nothing to be guilty for. He hadn’t known Alex had feelings for him!

Oh god, he realized. Alex had feelings for him. His best friend – no, best friend wasn’t enough to describe what Alex was. His soulmate, the very half of his heart, wanted more than friendship from him.

He swallowed, about to walk away. He shouldn’t be hearing any of this. He shouldn’t know any of it. Then –

“No,” Alex said. “No, I’m just – I’m just tired.” He sniffled, and Michael imagined him roughly wiping his face with his sleeves. “I don’t want him to know.”

“Alex –”

“No, Liz,” he said more sternly, more afraid. “I don’t want him to know. You . . . when I told you, you promised you’d never tell him. You’re not going to –”

“No,” she breathed, appalled. “No, of course not. I’d never do that.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I just . . . please, you can’t say stuff like that. It – I can’t – if he finds out –”

“Hey,” Liz said softly. “He won’t.”

“I can’t lose him,” he said and sniffled. “I’m just . . . upset because of my dad. The last thing I want is for Michael to leave me because of a stupid crush.”

A moment’s pause, then Liz tried, “Alex . . . it’s more than a crush.”

“Please,” Alex pleaded. “Don’t tell him. I never want him to know.”

“Okay,” Liz said, and Michael heard shuffling. He dared peek into the room and saw Alex there alongside the piano, his back to the door, Liz’s arms around his shoulders. Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see Michael. “I promise, I’ll never tell him.”

Alex hugged her waist, and his body sagged with exhaustion against her. He hummed, but his voice waivered, like he was trying not to cry again.

Michael had left then, replaying everything he’d heard in his head. Alex liked him. No, Alex more than liked him. What was he supposed to do with that?

This wasn’t like finding out the local gay guy had fantasies about him. This was finding out the guy he trusted more than anybody, the guy he cherished more than anybody, had feelings for him. It felt like a threat to their friendship.

Michael slumped against the driver’s side of his truck, his backpack barely hanging off one hand. This was Alex. What was he supposed to do?

Alex liked him. His response? He clenched his jaw. No fucking way. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with Alex. It was Alex. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see holding his hand and going on dates with him and he’d seen him in the locker rooms. It was no wonder the girls here had had a memorial when they’d found out the hot emo musician only wanted men . . .

It didn’t matter. He didn’t want anything with Alex. He’d had too many one-night stands and too many nameless, faceless nobodies to know that love was only something that existed in his brother’s books. Getting intimate with someone meant risking losing them.

He clenched his fists. He would’ve rather died than lose Alex. He opened his truck door and climbed inside. He gripped his steering wheel tightly, unable to start it for a good minute as an unidentified dread settled in the bottom of his chest and climbed up through his heart.

When he parked in front of the junkyard where old man Sanders let him stay, and he found his brother Max sitting in a lawn chair, he understood what the dread was. It was the same thing he’d heard in Alex’s voice when it seemed like Liz might let his feelings for him slip; Raw fear.

As he stepped out, millions of worst-case scenarios swarmed his mind. What if Alex decided to tell him the truth? What if he blurted it one day in a fight? What if they were so happy that Alex got the courage to kiss him? What if things ended terribly and they lost each other?

Max raised a brow at him. “You look like hell. What happened?”

Michael could only shake his head as he took the seat opposite Max. He was due to work in half an hour, but sometimes Sanders let him rest up if he’d had a long day. And those last few minutes overhearing what he had in the music room had officially made this the longest day ever.

“Tell me something,” he sighed, leaning his head back and not at all paying attention to the dotted white clouds across the blue sky. “Anything.”

“Okay?” Max said more in the form of a question. “I – uh – saw Liz today. In the music room. With Alex.”

He groaned. “Anything else.”

Max nudged his knee with the back of his hand. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You look like someone just smashed your guitar.”

My guitar. The guitar that Alex had given him because Michael had offhandedly mentioned once that music helped ease the noise in his mind. How had he not known then? Alex had paid such special attention to him. He had read his mind and known what his heart had wanted and given it to him when no one else bothered to look past the excitement of getting to rebel under the bleachers with the genius trailer trash.

How had he not known?

“I changed my mind,” he said. “Don’t speak. Just let me wallow.”

“Huh,” Max said. “Isobel’s been a fortress since she joined the Spring Dance committee, and you’re busy falling into your own despair for whatever reason.” He pulled a little brown leather notebook out of his back pocket. “Do any of my siblings have time for me?”

“I’m not falling into anything,” Michael grumbled. “Why do you have to get so poetic about . . . every . . . damn . . .” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing at the notebook. “Alex has that same notebook.”

Max hummed noncommittally, leaning back in his seat again and resting the notebook on his lap as he began doodling a rose. “Different colors though,” he said. “His is black. They got mixed up last week when he and I bumped into each other in the school hallway.”

An idea formed, somewhere in the back of his mind. Like water on ink; something definitely there, but unreadable. He leaned back again, wiping whatever the itch was from his eye.

“I don’t want to think about Alex right now,” he muttered, though even as he said it, his thoughts taunted him. Alex was all he could think about right now.

“Whoa,” Max blinked. Even he knew how much Alex and Michael treasured each other. Michael had never said he didn’t want to do something where Alex was concerned. “You guys have a fight or something?”

“No,” Michael said, though a fight might’ve been easier to deal with. “I found out . . . I heard Liz say . . .” He huffed, closing his eyes. He blurted. “Alex is in love with me.”

Silence. Michael opened his eyes and saw Max’s expression completely unsurprised. He looked like he was waiting for Michael to get to the point.

He straightened. “Are you kidding me? You really knew?”

Max scoffed. “You really didn’t?”

“No!” he gaped and stood. “He’s my best friend, why would I think he was in love with me?!”

“Because he’s your best friend.”

“So?!”

“So!” Max said like it was obvious. “Alex hates people! Liz and Kyle are his only friends, he barely tolerates me and Isobel, and Rosa Ortecho swears he hissed at her once!” He huffed a disbelieving chuckle. “Before you came along, Liz told me he never said two words to anybody he hadn’t known since before his mom left. You want to take a guess as to why he warmed up to you so quickly?”

Michael didn’t answer. Max grabbed his arm. “And for the love of god, stop pacing, you’re making me nauseous.”

He tugged him down onto the lawn chair, and Michael sagged against it. He stared into the distance, lost in his memories of his first meeting with Alex. Alex had been bullied, pushed into a tree and made fun of for stares and feelings he had yet to understand himself. Then Michael had jumped between him and the bullies, waving a tree branch, screaming at them to get away or he would kill them.

It had been the wildness of his eyes and words, wildness he’d gained from years with monsters for parents, that had unnerved them in the end. Alex had taken his offered hand with wide eyes then, and timidly asked, “You’re not scared of me?”

Michael had known then that this twelve-year-old had been told too often that he was something unnatural, something wrong, and was expecting it from someone else now. So he’d looked Alex over, as if checking for bruises, and rested the branch on his shoulder like it had been a bat.

He’d grinned and said, “No fangs or a tail. You look fine to me!”

After that moment, Alex had followed him everywhere, his eyes never anything less than adoring.

Michael shut his eyes. How could he have not known?

A buzzing against his thigh snapped him out of his thoughts, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Alex was calling.

“Shit,” he leapt to his feet, holding the phone at a distance as if afraid that Alex could somehow see him through the camera. “Shit shit shit.”

“What?” Max followed and his shoulders slumped at the sight of Alex’s name. “Dude, just answer. He doesn’t know you know, remember?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, right, yeah.”

“It’s still just Alex.”

“Just Alex,” he repeated. “It’s just Alex.” He answered the call, held the phone to his ear, and all but yelled, “Hey!” He winced at himself and Max rolled his eyes.

“Hey?” Alex asked, laughter in his voice. He didn’t sound like he’d just been crying his eyes out at all. Then it hit Michael. Alex was abused. He was used to hiding his scars. “Why’re you screaming?”

“I’m not!” he said, then adjusted his volume with a clear of his throat. “I’m – uh – I’m not. What’s up?”

He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

Michael, so caught in the thought, completely missed what Alex had asked him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he grit out, “say that again?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is the auto shop really busy right now?” Alex asked like he knew the answer. “Pay attention, Guerin, this is important!”

Of course, Michael had ditched time and time again because they hardly had any cars in around now, and all Sanders did when he was an hour late was yell and grumble, then give him and Alex an extra plate of whatever he’d had for lunch.

“I asked what time you were coming to my gig tonight,” he said, a little more hesitantly. When Michael didn’t answer, he cleared his throat. “At the – uh – the Wild Pony? Just so I can save you a seat.”

Michael let his hand with the phone fall, his shoulders slumped. For years, he’d owed that nervous stammer in Alex’s voice, the way he went from confident to shy with just a second of Michael’s silence, to nerves about his gigs. Now he speculated it was because of something else.

Damn it. He wished he’d never known about Alex’s feelings. He wished he could unhear everything.

He realized Alex was talking again, and he held the phone to his ear.

“If you can’t make it,” he was saying, “I get it, I just need to know for the seats, you know?”

Michael had never canceled on Alex before, but Alex was a little sensitive where his music was concerned. Michael assumed it was because he had a father and brothers who belittled what he did every day, no matter how often Michael told him he loved his songs.

He gripped the phone tightly. He wondered what Alex would do if he canceled on him now.

“Michael,” Max mouthed, “talk to him.”

“Guerin,” Alex huffed a laugh. It sounded forced. “Dude, it’s fine. It’s one gig, I think our friendship will survive.”

Will it? Michael feared. Will it survive this, Alex? Will it survive feelings that friends shouldn’t have for each other? Will it survive if I can’t help but look into the double meaning of every word you say now?

He felt oddly frustrated with Alex, like this was his fault somehow. Like he was singlehandedly destroying everything they’ve ever had by wanting more.

“Is it another gig?” Max asked, nudging his elbow. “Will Liz be there? Ask him if Liz will be there.”

Michael rolled his eyes, about to snap at his brother that this was not the time. Couldn’t he see that Michael was suffering some emotional turmoil over here?

“Guerin,” Alex tried again. “Are you there?” He heard a sigh, and Alex mumbled, “Is the reception bad?”

Michael hated this. He was starting to scare Alex, and it was the very last thing he wanted to do. Max was still asking about Liz, his notebook, just like Alex’s but a different color, in his hand, and Michael clenched his jaw. Max liked Liz, but it would be so much easier for everyone if . . . if . . .

His eyes widened. The idea that had begun to sink below the depths of his mind surfaced now. Before he could make it out completely, he found himself saying, “Sorry, hang on a second, babe, my brother keeps trying to talk to me.”

“Oh!” relief flooded Alex’s voice and he chuckled breathlessly. It sounded so much more real, and that hurt Michael all the more. “Yeah, sure! God, Michael, you freaked me out a second there. Yeah, take your time.”

Michael covered the speaker on his phone and told Max quietly, “I need you to come to Alex’s gig with me.”

Max’s eyes widened. “Liz will be there?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael said. “I need you to ask out Alex.”

Max stared a moment, then, “What?”

Michael held up a finger to his brother and brightened his tone when he told Alex, “Hey, Alex, can I bring Max to your gig tonight?”

“W-wait,” Max said, “Michael, what’d you mean, ask out Alex? Was that a joke?”

Michael ignored him as Alex scoffed. “Sure. But you’re definitely coming, right? Because I was totally lying before. If you don’t make it, I’ll never talk to you again.”

Michael smiled and almost said, Would I ever not show up for you?, realized how Alex might take it, and diverted at the last second.

“Uh – yeah – see you tonight, then.”

It was awkward and unnatural for them, but Alex hardly seemed to notice, lost in his own happiness, as he told Michael he’d see him tonight, and hung up.

He barely met Max’s dark eyes and crossed arms when Max said, “No.”

“Hear me out –”

“If your next sentence doesn’t end with, ‘and then everyone will laugh, and it’ll totally take the edge off,’ I don’t want to hear it.”

“One date!” he begged, following Max back to the chairs and their backpacks. “Just one! Consider it a birthday present to me! For the next five years – no, ten years!”

“This isn’t a favor, Michael!” Max argued. “I’m not going to ask your best friend out just so you can avoid having to talk about this!”

“But –”

“Besides,” Max said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, “I’m not gay or bisexual or pansexual or anything. He’d smell a fake a mile away.”

“You’d totally pass for bisexual!” Michael argued. “Look at you” – he tapped Max’s arms, his chest, his notebook – “you have the whole muscly jock with a tender heart thing going on, come on!”

Max stared. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Max,” he urged. “I need you to do this one thing for me! I’d do it for you!”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Max said. “I don’t pass off people who like me to my brother like a freaking torch.”

Michael winced, and Max sighed, his expression softening. “And I like Liz, remember?”

“Then this’ll be the perfect in for you,” he insisted. “Getting close to Alex means getting close to Liz. Then, in – in a month, just until the Spring Dance, you can smooth your way to Liz, and Alex will know the breakup is coming.”

Michael swallowed thickly before he said, “I know him. He hates being left behind, so he’ll end things first.”

Max shook his head. “And he’ll be heartbroken. Assuming your plan works. Is that what you want, Michael?”

Michael hesitated, then, “It’ll just break for a minute.” He added quickly, “Th-then I’ll come in, and he won’t want to date your brother, so he’ll know we’re better off as friends.”

He pursed his lips a moment, then walked past him. “You’re crazy.”

Michael clenched his jaw and blocked Max’s path. “I can’t date Alex,” he said fiercely. “I can’t.”

“He doesn’t know you overheard anything,” Max told him, not unkindly. “Can’t you just . . . play along?”

Michael shook his head, his fists tight at his side. “It’ll come out,” he said. “I know it will. Please, Max, I . . . I can’t lose him. I need you.”

Those were the words, Michael knew, that Max could never say no to. Those were the words that he and Isobel used only in extreme cases, when guilt for taking advantage of their brother’s good heart had to be put aside to fix whatever had happened. Michael hated using them, had used them only once before in his life, but knew he had to use them again now.

Max sighed and looked away, something like resignation settling in the slump of his shoulders. A moment’s pause, then – “Alex hates me.”

“No,” Michael breathed, already smiling despite the pinch in his chest that he would’ve rather not thought about. “You said it yourself, he barely tolerates you.” He took Max’s journal and held it up. “And if anyone can make something into something more, it’s a writer.”

Max wasn’t good at being a boyfriend. Not that he’d ever been anyone’s boyfriend, but that was the problem. He had no idea how to flirt or tease or ask anyone out. It was why he’d spent the better part of the last year pining after Liz Ortecho, stumbling through his hellos.

Now, for whatever reason, he was prepping himself to ask out someone for the first time in his life. And it was Liz’s best friend. The things he did for his siblings . . .

As Michael parked his truck outside the Wild Pony, Max thought about the few times he’d seen Alex around town. He was reminded of the Greek mythology stories he loved reading; of Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and how sunlight couldn’t touch him. He was nothing like his brothers who were all on one sports team or another. Who seemed to have no problem being popular.

Though none of them, he knew, were like Alex. The dark prince, the one everyone wanted to know for his mystery, but the one who didn’t want anyone near him. The one people gave up on because he was too difficult to approach.

You had to have an in. And, Max supposed, Michael was his in.

“Remember,” Michael was telling him as they left the truck. “His favorite song is Welcome to the Black Parade, don’t get him a beer until after his set, and whatever you do, do not insult Star Wars. He didn’t talk to Valenti for two days when he thought there were Jedis in Star Trek.”

Max started to laugh, saw that Michael was watching him expectantly, and huffed. “Would you calm down? I’m the one who gets to worry here. There’s no way Alex will let me come within three feet of him.”

“I already told you,” Michael said. “You have me. You just think about being your usual charming self –”

“Is that supposed to be another joke?”

“—And Alex will be happy to have you.”

Michael stopped abruptly just as they reached the doors. He turned to Max and pointed a warning finger. “Just don’t kiss him.”

Max blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t kiss him,” he repeated seriously. “That’s . . . it’s too far. He deserves to be kissed by someone who . . . really wants to kiss him.” He shook the thought out of his head. “Just – just don’t kiss him.”

“I won’t kiss him,” Max held his hands up. “I don’t want to anyway.”

“And don’t talk that way around him,” Michael grit out. “Anyone would be lucky to have Alex.”

Max looked to the skies for aid. “Then you date him!”

“I can’t,” was all Michael said, and tugged on Max’s arm. “Come on, you’ll do great.”

The Wild Pony doors opened to chatter and cowboys and clanking drinks. Max heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on his thigh. He could do this. He could do this.

Michael patted his back and went on ahead. Max followed, thinking of what he’d say to Alex when he saw him.

He considered, “What’s up?”, “How’s it hanging?”, “‘Sup, bro!”, and winced at himself. He needed more time to think of something, but he didn’t have any. He spotted Liz first, and Kyle and Alex beside her. Liz and Kyle were laughing about something, but Alex was focused on his music sheets, his fingers running over the keys as if making sure he knew the song by heart.

Right then, Max realized what a terrible idea this was.

“Michael,” he tried, reaching for his brother’s shoulder. “I – I think we should talk about this –”

“Alex!” Michael called, and went ahead. Max was left stumbling behind him.

Alex glanced up and smiled at the sight of Michael. “Hey! I saved you a seat up front!”

Michael looked like he was going to wrap an arm around his shoulders like he usually did, then his smile dimmed and he cleared his throat, patting Alex’s arm in the end.

“Duh, buddy,” he said. “What are friends for?”

Alex glanced down for a fraction of a second before his smile returned and he pulled Michael to behind the keyboard to look at his song. It was like Max wasn’t there.

Michael seemed to notice that, too. He raised his brows pointedly at Max, and Max cleared his throat, stepped forward, and said, “H-hey, Alex.”

Alex looked up like he thought he heard someone talk to him, and his eyes met Max’s. His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together, clearly confused as to why Michael’s brother was talking to him.

“Hi,” he murmured. “So, Guerin, look at this, I used the lyrics you came up with yesterday.”

“Uh –” Michael barely glanced at the page. “Hope you don’t mind that I brought Max,” he said, pulling Max forward. “He really wanted to hear you sing.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at Max. “If he’s here to, like, make fun of me or something –”

“No,” Max said at once. “No, I – I really do . . . like . . . music.”

Alex stared a moment. Then he looked away, uncomfortable, and took Michael’s hand. He muttered, “Is he coming with us for ice cream after?”

Michael chuckled and subtly removed his hand from Alex’s. Max could see the flash of hurt in Alex’s eyes before it was gone, and he thought he might’ve imagined it.

“We’ll see,” Michael said, “about the ice cream, okay?”

Alex scoffed and bumped their shoulders. “Yeah, okay. The day Michael Guerin says no to ice cream is the day Kyle Valenti gets into med school.”

“Hey!” Kyle argued.

“I’m kidding!” Alex laughed. “I knew you were listening in, you freak!”

Kyle pulled Alex to him, and Michael kept laughing until he whipped around to face Max, then his smile fell away and he hissed, “Work with me here!”

“I’m trying,” Max hissed back. “I am making him uncomfortable, Michael.”

“He’s just not used to you talking to him,” he whispered. “Just – just – just . . . move in there!”

He pushed Max forward, and Max nearly stumbled into Alex’s keyboard. Alex looked startled.

“Max,” Liz blinked, “are you okay?”

Kyle tilted his head. “You drunk already, dude?”

“Uh . . .” Max started, and pointed at the keys. “I like your piano.”

Alex raised a brow. “It’s actually not mine. It belongs to the bar.”

“Oh.” Max nodded. “W-Well, you look really cool. I wish I could play the piano, so that’s – that’s really cool.”

“Thanks?”

“Can I – uh – can I buy you a beer? After your set?”

His face burned as Alex stared. Then, while still watching Max apprehensively, Alex called, “Guerin?”

Michael didn’t answer. Max turned to find that he’d started talking up the first blonde he’d found. Asshole, he thought, clearly looking for any excuse to leave him alone with his best friend.

He looked back at Alex, and saw that he was watching Michael, too. His shoulders had fallen, and his brows pinched, but there was no surprise in his face. He was so used to Michael ignoring him when a better offer came along.

He knew he should say something, though he didn’t know what. If Alex thought of Michael as nothing but a friend, this wouldn’t have hurt him.

Liz then suddenly wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist, tighter and tighter until he burst into laughter. Kyle picked up the music sheets and complained why Alex never played any heavy metal.

“You dress like you play it,” he said, “is all I’m saying!”

They were clearly trying to distract him from whatever Michael was doing. Max scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to do himself.

When the show started, Michael was already in his seat, pulling Max to sit down beside him. Liz clapped the loudest and Kyle offered a thumbs up. Michael kept his arms crossed, as if afraid anything he did would be taken the wrong way. Max could see Alex’s momentary confusion before Mimi DeLuca announced his song.

Max was looking everywhere, namely at Liz, until Michael nudged his side with his elbow, and Alex started playing. As the first few notes fell together like a soothing waterfall, Max started. He looked to Alex, eyes wide. This was his music? He didn’t know why, but he’d imagined, like Kyle had teased, heavy metal or I-hate-everything ballads. But this . . .

Not thirty seconds in, Max’s eyes had fallen shut.

He had no idea how it had happened. One second, he was in a wooden chair at a bar where most of the crowd was laughing and talking over the music. The next, he found himself in a forest, surrounded by pine trees, with a clear lake behind him.

When Alex started to sing – who knew he had such a smooth voice? – Max then felt the breeze of a desert night across his cheeks, the stars and full moon bright above, the rest of the world turned to peaceful quiet.

The further along Alex got in his song, the more Max’s fingers itched to write. He couldn’t remember the last time ideas poured into his head like this, the last time he felt his heart swell with the anticipation of creating something.

This was a song Alex had made up. Had he always had such talent? Max had never been to one of his gig’s before because he’d never been invited. Or he had, and he had been lost in the chattering crowd in the back, not paying attention.

Now, he had to pay attention. He found it impossible to do anything else. When Alex finished, his friends and Michael stood to applaud. Liz screamed, Kyle whistled, and Michael looked prouder than Max had ever seen him of anybody. Max slowly did the same, staring.

Alex looked red-faced, but his eyes shone brightly and he smiled widely, like even he could feel the emotion he’d just created. He stepped down, running a hand through his dark hair, and accepted the bottle of water from Kyle with a thanks.

“Is it over?” he breathed after taking big gulps.

“Yeah,” Kyle laughed, ruffling his hair and messing it up again. “It’s over, buddy.”

“That’s my Alex,” Michael said before he could help it, and Max saw the blush deepen in Alex’s cheeks. Michael seemed to have realized his mistake, and handed a cold beer under the table to Max.

Max hesitated, then held it out for Alex to take.

Alex looked startled, but he was still smiling. “Thanks,” he murmured, accepting the bottle.

“So,” Kyle drummed his hands on the table. “Ice cream to celebrate?”

“Ice cream!” Liz yelled and Alex laughed. He turned to Michael.

“Ice cream?”

“Uh . . .” Michael looked over at the blonde he’d been flirting with. She waved to him from across the bar. Max saw the tick in his jaw, the way his fingers curled to fists under the table, and he knew that the last thing Michael wanted to do was cancel on Alex.

Yet that was what he did.

“Raincheck?” he said, and nudged his chin at the girl. “I think I’m about to live the Rockstar fantasy.”

Liz frowned, disapproving. “But you’re not the Rockstar. Alex is.”

“Well, the girls have to go somewhere,” he shrugged, already walking backwards. “If any guys show up, I’ll send ‘em your way, babe.”

“O-Oh,” Alex’s brows pinched. “Okay . . .”

“Max can take my place!” he offered, and turned his back to them. “See you tomorrow!”

“Jackass,” Kyle muttered.

Max opened his mouth to defend Michael, not knowing what he’d say exactly, when Alex said, “He’s just been really stressed out lately. He – he has all those honor classes. I think he should let off a little steam.”

Liz did not look like she agreed. “Alex . . .”

“It’s okay, really,” he said, then managed a smile that did not reach his eyes. “More for us, right?”

Max stared. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Alex said simply, and looked at Michael’s retreating form with a forlorn look. “He’s my best friend.”

Alex seemed distracted. No matter how much Liz and Kyle tried to pull him into conversation, the best he could manage was a smile that even Max could tell was fake. Max felt kind of bad for him. He seemed to really be trying his best to cheer up, but every time a blonde girl or any straight couple passed, his mood dimmed again, like he couldn’t help but wonder what Michael was doing now.

Not knowing what else to do, Max nudged his arm and asked the only question he could think to. “Did you really write that song you sang tonight?”

Alex looked confused as to why Max would ask him anything, and he shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah.”

Max shook his head. “That’s so cool,” he breathed. “It – I mean, it was really good.”

Alex checked to make sure Liz and Kyle were too caught up with each other to hear them, then said, “Okay, what’s your deal, Evans? Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?”

Max frowned. “I’ve always been nice to you.”

Alex raised a skeptical brow. “You’ve always been polite. And that’s only because I’m friends with your brother. I know you’re as scared of me as everyone else.”

“That’s not true!” Max said at once. “I’m scared of everyone!”

Alex blinked, and Max realized too late what he’d said. He blushed and looked down, expecting to be laughed at. When he heard Alex huff an incredulous chuckle, he shut his eyes tight, humiliated.

Then he said, “You? Mr. Perfect?”

“I’m not perfect.”

Alex scrunched his nose. Max was reminded of a kitten. “Aren’t you though? Tall, dark, and handsome,” he nudged his chin at the notebook poking out of Max’s back pocket. “And you write.”

Max smirked. “But you’re all of those things.”

Alex blinked, startled, and Max could’ve sworn he saw a pink tint across his cheeks. Maybe it was just too dark.

Max cleared his throat and went on. “You should know then, better than anyone, that it doesn’t matter how good-looking you are. Sooner or later, some people just give up trying to get close to you.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Alex scoffed halfheartedly. “Trying to get close to me?”

He wouldn’t look at Max as he said it, as if he was sure that was not what was going on. It made Max’s words come out more smoothly than he’d expected. “Yes. It is.”

Alex stopped, surprised. Max also stopped and faced him. He could see Liz and Kyle stop out of the corner of his eyes, and prayed they couldn’t hear him.

When he spoke, the lie left his lips with a little more trouble. “I like you, Alex. I – I always have. I’ve wanted to talk to you for years, but I . . . I’m not good at . . .” he gestured at his entire self, as if to say everything about him was an obstacle.

“That’s why Michael brought me to the show tonight,” he said. “He knew I’ve wanted to talk to you forever. And I finally got to.”

Alex stared, his expression unreadable. For a terrifying moment, Max wondered if he saw through the charade. Then he said, “You like me?”

He said it more like a statement, a dare. Max could only nod once, gripping his notebook so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Then he saw it. The doubt and suspicion behind Alex’s eyes. Alex sighed and kept walking. “Then let’s see how long,” he said, “until you give up, too.”

Max Evans stared. A lot.

Alex was not new to people watching him. Everyone was usually curious about the youngest of the Manes brothers until they realized just how different and unapproachable Alex was, and then their curiosity’s limit showed.

But the longer Max stared, the more curious he seemed to become. If he wasn’t glancing at Alex’s hair or eyeliner, he was looking at Alex’s bracelets, the rings on his fingers, the drawings on his shirt, his necklace, his nail polish.

Alex felt like he was being studied. It was weird. He wished Michael was here to get Max to stop staring. He wished he could snap at Max to look away, but the guy was like a walking cinnamon roll. It was impossible to get angry at him without feeling bad.

When Alex ordered his Neapolitan ice cream, Max not only insisted on paying for it, but offered a spoon of his own lemon sherbet cup for Alex to try.

“Don’t you have, like, hundreds of other friends you could be spending Friday night with?” Alex finally asked.

“Just my brother and sister,” Max confessed, picking at his sorbet. “Hey, since it’s Saturday tomorrow, y-you want to do something?” Then, as if it was an afterthought, added, “Together.”

“No,” Alex grumbled around his spoon.

“Why not?”

“Because I always spend Saturdays with Michael,” he said, and immediately longed for Michael again. He wondered if he was having a lot more fun than Alex was right now. He tried not to think any harder about where Michael might be.

“Oh,” Max said quietly. Alex glanced at him and saw that he was awkwardly tipping the melted part of his sherbet into his mouth. His lips twitched before he quickly schooled his features.

He thought that would be the end of that conversation, but then Max asked, “If he cancels, you wanna do something?”

Alex frowned. “Why would you think he’d cancel?”

“Just . . .” he shrugged. “He kinda does what he wants, you know?”

“Michael never cancels on me,” Alex bit back.

He nodded, but wouldn’t look at Alex again. “Sorry.”

Alex faltered. There it was, that guilt again. Saturdays belonged to him and Michael. He didn’t want anyone else coming along. He continued quietly eating his ice cream. At least maybe now Max would know to give up this ridiculous chase.

“Well, maybe Sunday then?”

Alex blinked and looked up. “W-What?”

Max was smiling nervously, swirling the contents of his sherbet. “There’s – well, there’s this museum for fine art pieces. I – I heard it’s really cool, I’ve been meaning to go, but Isobel and Michael don’t really . . . like paintings and sculptures.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I know you must not either, I – I don’t know why I thought you would –”

“Paintings?” Alex couldn’t help but ask. “Like Potthast? And Einaudi?”

Max blinked. “Y-You know about them?”

“I mean,” Alex scrunched his shoulders. “I’m not an idiot. I love any artist who pours themselves into their work. It’s” – he blushed – “inspiring.”

Max perked up. “Right?! I’d do anything to be a writer, you know? Seeing people love something as much as I love books, it kind of makes me feel like . . .”

“Like it all has to mean something,” Alex finished, smiling to himself. “I can’t love it this much for nothing.”

Max huffed a laugh. He looked surprised, his cheeks tinted pink. “Yeah! Yeah, exactly . . .”

Neither of them said anything for the next minute. Alex rubbed the sole of his shoe against the pavement and cleared his throat.

“I mean,” he finally said, “I guess . . . if I’m really not doing anything Sunday . . . I can come. B-But only if Michael’s coming, too! I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Max didn’t say anything, and Alex chanced a glance at him to see he had a small smile.

“What?” he demanded. “I said I’d – I’d come. M-Maybe!”

Max nodded. “Er – can I have your number?”

Don’t do it, Alex thought. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. Max was just a stranger.

But he’s not a complete stranger, he reminded himself. He was Michael’s brother, and if Michael was letting him get this close to their tight little group, then he must’ve trusted that Alex was safe around him. And he could trust Michael more than anyone to look after him. He knew he could.

“Yeah,” he said, handing Max his phone without looking at him. He saw Liz and Kyle watch him from across the street where they were twirling around a lamppost. They were tilting their heads and smirking, like they knew something he didn’t.

Alex cleared his throat, and, as if his friends could hear him, added in a mutter, “Whatever.”

Even Max smiled at that.

The next morning, Max woke to knocking on his window. He saw Michael and leapt out of bed, letting him in.

“Can’t you knock like a normal person?”

“Didn’t want to wake anyone else up,” he said. He smelled like he’d spent all of last night drinking, but his curls were wild, like he’d walked for hours in the desert instead of lying in someone’s bed.

He nudged Max aside and sat cross-legged on his bed, shoes and all. “Tell me about Alex,” he said. “How’d last night go?”

Max put his pillows up and slumped against them. “Fine. Good. Okay, I guess. He was mostly quiet the whole time. Did you have to blow him off like that?”

Michael looked down and clenched his jaw. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbled. “I hated not being there. The whole time she was talking in my ear, I was trying not to get her to gag on me. I almost called Alex like fifty times!”

He shook his head, as if eager to be rid of the memory. “Forget me. So he didn’t say anything the entire night?”

“No,” Max said. “He did. I got him talking about music and other artists and stuff. I even asked him out to the museum today, just like you said.”

Michael clapped him on the shoulder, happy. “Yeah? Max Evans, you sly dog!”

Max couldn’t share in his enthusiasm. Would Michael have been so happy if he’d seen the look on Alex’s face last night? The way he defended him even when it was clear that his own heart was breaking?

“Yeah,” Max said, rubbing his eye. “Said no.”

“Well,” Michael shrugged a shoulder, “it’s not like he was going to fall in love with you in a few hours.”

“Actually,” Max said, “he said he might be able to come tomorrow. He can’t today because you guys usually hang out on Saturdays.”

Michael raised a brow. “Oh yeah?” He hummed, studying the blanket. After a long few minutes, he said, “I might . . . just call him and –”

“Er –” Max cut him off, “he was pretty adamant that you would never cancel on him. Even after . . . you kind of already did.”

Michael’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away. He muttered, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Michael,” Max sighed. “Look, can’t you just talk to him about this? It looks like he really cares about you, I’m sure if you told him what you heard –”

“He’d hate me,” Michael said. “Imagine finding out that the one person you like knows you like them, and it makes them uncomfortable. Would you ever be able to look them in the face again?”

Max pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. “And you’re sure you don’t like Alex like that? At all?”

Michael looked up, holding his brother’s gaze. Max had never seen him so fierce. “I can’t date him, Max.”

“Why not?” Max said. “You don’t think your relationship would survive a breakup?”

“I can’t risk it,” he said. “I won’t.”

Max almost pointed out that that wasn’t an answer, but decided not to. “Fine, well,” he laid back down and turned his back to Michael, trying to fall asleep again. “He’s not going anywhere with me on a Saturday, so see you tomorrow.”

Michael did not leave, or say anything for a good long while. Then Max heard shuffling, and tapping. He peeked an eye open and saw Michael texting. Immediately, the look on Alex’s face last night hit him and he sat up.

“What’re you doing?” he demanded, reaching for Michael’s phone. Michael kept himself out of reach. “Michael, I told you, if you cancel –”

“I’m not canceling,” Michael murmured, brows pinched. “Just texting someone.” His finger hovered over the screen a moment before he hit send. “There,” he said, pocketing his phone. He didn’t look any happier than he’d been seconds ago. “Now Alex will be the one asking you out.”

Max’s shoulders slumped. “What’d you do?”

Michael didn’t answer, but the guilt on his face said it all. He was about to break Alex’s heart.

Alex had woken early. Last night he’d climbed through his window to his father banging on his door. He’d managed to sneak under the covers and play asleep the second Jesse had burst through, but he knew his luck wouldn’t last.

It hadn’t mattered, because there was nothing that was going to keep him from an entire day with Michael. So he’d risen early, forgotten about breakfast at the risk of running into his father and being trapped inside again, and just had water from the hydro flask he kept by his bed – he didn’t care, he would eat later with Michael. He’d thrown on his favorite skull and crossbones t-shirt, his silver skull choker, and his rings.

He felt silly fixing his hair in the mirror, running his hand through it so that the strands looked windswept. It wasn’t hard, as his hair rarely stayed down neatly. He’d learned to live with it.

Michael wouldn’t ever like him like he liked girls, he knew that, but maybe . . . maybe some part of him might find Alex attractive. Maybe he might look at him differently without realizing that he was looking at him differently.

It was dumb, but he could hope.

At least, he had hoped until Michael met him in front of their favorite coffeeshop with his arm around Maria DeLuca’s shoulders. Alex had been holding two coffees, a caramel macchiato for him and a mocha for Michael, because he loved chocolate. He’d nearly dropped them at the sight.

“Hey!” Michael called.

“Uh – hey, Alex,” Maria smiled awkwardly. “Guerin,” she said, “I thought we were hanging out today.”

“We are!” Michael smiled widely, taking his coffee and handing it to her. “With Alex! I always spend Saturdays with Alex.”

“B-But . . .” Alex looked between them. He could feel his heart slowly sinking into his stomach. He pressed his lips together in a quick smile to Maria and tugged Michael aside by his sleeve. “What’s going on?” he whispered. “We always spend Saturdays together.”

Michael tilted his head. “We are together.”

“Alone,” Alex insisted. “Just you and me, remember? We’ve never invited anyone else. And . . . Guerin, Maria?”

Michael laughed. He was laughing far too easily, and smiling way too much. He knew that of all people, bringing Maria would be a real sting. Didn’t he care about how Alex felt? And today of all days?

“Come on, Alex,” he said. “I’m just trying to have a little fun here.”

Alex felt like he’d just been slapped. “S-So being with me isn’t fun?”

Michael rolled his eyes like he thought Alex was messing around. Alex, horrifically, thought he might cry.

“Am I supposed to turn down a hot girl for you?” he said, taking Alex’s coffee and having a sip. “Seriously, so Maria’s coming. What’s the big deal, right? I mean, it’s not like we’re dating.”

He reached out to pat Alex’s shoulder, but Alex flinched back, away from his touch. For a split second, Michael’s face fell and he looked mortified. But it was gone so quickly that Alex was sure he must’ve imagined it.

He felt guilty, and dramatic, and pathetic. He felt cast aside, unwanted. All of that was okay, he was used to it. Maybe not from Michael, never from Michael, but he was used to it.

So he did what he always did when he was reminded just how worthless he was. He forced his chin up, exhaled shakily, and kept his words steady. “I actually just remembered that Max wanted to go to a museum thing today.”

Michael was still smiling. It felt wrong, but Alex couldn’t look at him too long to read into it. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alex took another few steps back. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to be away from Michael, but at this moment nowhere felt far away enough. “He sounded like he really wanted me to go with him, but I had to say no because of today.” He moved further away. “I really wanted to go, too, to be honest. It sounded cool.”

“Yeah?” Michael sounded quieter. Maybe that was just because of the distance between them.

“So if you’re going to hang out with someone else, then I guess it’s okay if I go, too?”

Michael didn’t answer for a minute. “Yeah. No, yeah, that’s great. Works out for both of us, huh?”

Alex turned around so Michael didn’t see his face fall. “Yeah,” he said, and began walking away. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before Michael could say anything else, Alex pulled out his phone. He wouldn’t dial until he rounded the corner and was out of Michael’s sight. He fell back against the wall, his legs giving out under him. He held the phone to his forehead, breathing deeply.

Kyle, he knew, was on a camping trip for the weekend with his dad. Liz was busy working shifts at the Crashdown.

It’s okay, Alex told himself. It’s okay. You don’t need anybody. It’s okay.

He may not have needed anyone, but he didn’t want to be alone today. So he dialed Max’s name, and held the phone to his ear.

It rung twice, then Max answered. “Alex?” There was hesitation in his voice that made Alex blush. Was he not actually expecting Alex to call?

“Er – hey,” Alex murmured, and rubbed his face with one hand. “Look, t-turns out I’m free today after all . . . If you . . . still want to go to the museum . . .”

Max didn’t answer for a long few seconds.

“O-Or not,” he said quickly, “doesn’t really matter to me, I just thought –”

“Yeah!” Max said, “Yeah, I’m – sorry, I was changing. I’m ready to go when you are! Where do you want me to meet you?”

Alex’s shoulders slumped. He felt a strange relief trickling through his chest, but it didn’t ease the weight on his heart. He muttered, “Wherever you want. Just text me the address.”

He waited for Max’s okay, then hung up. He rested his chin on his knees as he waited for the message to come in, closing his eyes and promising himself that he would not cry.

Max didn’t live in a house. He lived in a mansion. The two story villa stretched out over a valley of cacti and desert flowers, the windows long and the front doors big enough to fit ten grown men standing side by side. Michael had once told Alex how he’d sneak in through his brother and sister’s windows, and Alex now had to wonder how.

No sooner had he gotten to the door than Max came stumbling out, a bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he panted, “let’s go.”

Without waiting for Alex’s greeting, he bodily turned Alex around and nudged him back toward the road. Alex was not new to being hidden away by boys who’d rather their parents not see him, but he’d already had his plans with Michael ruined, and was in no mood to humor any homophobia.

“What?” he sighed. “Afraid mommy and daddy will know you asked out a guy?”

Max blinked, surprised. He stopped. “What’re you talking about? I’m not trying to hide you from my parents.” He looked over his shoulder as if remembering they were supposed to be in a hurry, and frog-marched Alex away again.

“Oh?” Alex rolled his eyes. He tried to ground his heels to make it harder for Max but had no will to do it. He was tired, but anything was better than spending the day curled up in bed, abandoned and pitiful. “The who are we trying to hide from?”

“My . . . crap . . .” Max trailed off, and, following his gaze, Alex understood why. At the end of the road, her arms crossed, her purse hanging off one elbow, was Isobel Evans. She did not look happy.

“Sneaking off?” she demanded. “Who do you think you are? Michael?”

“Isobel,” Max warned. “Not now.”

“Did you honestly think you could hide your date?” Isobel narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Huh. You weren’t kidding. It really is Alex Manes.” She reached a hand towards his face. “You were right, he is very pretty –”

“Isobel,” Max slid in between Alex and Isobel, forbidding her from touching him. “I never said that.” Then to Alex, “I never said that. N-Not that you’re not – I mean, clearly you are –”

He shook his head, and turned back to Isobel, his jaw clenched. “I’m not kidding, leave us alone.”

Isobel was relentless, tilting her head over her brother’s shoulder, since she was almost as tall as he was. “Oh, what do you think I’m going to do, Max? Get out of the way, let me look at him!”

“Alex,” Max said, his wary eyes on his sister, “I am so sorry about this.”

“Sorry about what?” she demanded. “I didn’t do anything! Get out of the way, Max! Do you have any idea how rare it is to get a look at him this up close?!”

“He’s not an octopus, Isobel!”

“It’s a compliment!” She told Alex, “It’s a compliment, it means you’re really cute.”

“We have to go,” Max insisted, fending off his sister’s reaching hands. “We have a thing at the museum and –”

“What museum? Why didn’t you invite me? I want to come with you!”

“NO!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll make it weird!”

“What does that even mean? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend?”

“Isobel!”

Watching them, Alex should’ve been annoyed. But Max was being gentle with his sister, and Isobel’s eyes were so genuine that Alex could tell her curiosity was innocent and eager. There didn’t seem to be a malicious bone in either of their bodies.

Crouching behind a building just half an hour ago, Alex had not thought he’d be able to smile for the rest of the day. Now, a giggle escaped his lips before he could help it.

Max and Isobel stopped and stared, wide eyed. Max’s cheeks were tinted pink. Alex pretended not to notice.

“Isobel,” he said wearily, “you want to come with us?”

Isobel looked momentarily surprised, then pleased, a satisfied grin stretching across her pink lips. She lightly shouldered her way past Max and hooked her arm around Alex’s.

“I like him,” Isobel said cheerfully, and pulled Alex down the road. Alex looked over his shoulder at Max, who blinked out of his haze and ran to catch up to them.

“Why would you invite her?” Max murmured.

Alex took one look at Isobel and smiled, something about her radiant demeanor an interesting contrast to the darkness he lived in. Maybe it was having a writer with him, maybe it was that he was kind of a writer himself, but he thought there was a fascinating story here between the three of them.

To Max, however, he merely shrugged a shoulder and smirked.

“Come on, Evans,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to think this was a date.”

Max again blushed, and Alex again pretended not to notice.

Ahhhh here it is!!! Finally!!!

I know only three to four people may enjoy this, but I wrote it mostly for me, so my expectations are low. Or, I should say, that’s how I’m trying to keep them. Don’t ask me how long until the next chapter comes up, this is just supposed to be fun. Any questions about updates shall be ignored.

That said, if you did enjoy it, comment! Tell me what you liked, if it was funny, angsty, if it’s not your kind of thing but you decided to give it a chance anyway - I love that stuff. And share/reblog. You may not have liked it, but maybe someone else really will!

#alex manes #max evans #sheriff manes #max x alex #sheriff manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #sheriff manes fanfic #sheriff manes fanfiction #tyler blackburn #nathan dean parsons

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sodasback · 4 years ago

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Overdose

ER Nurse Rafe x ER Nurse Reader

Reposting from my deleted account.

TW: Mentions of drug overdose, CPR, death, panic attack

One of your guy best friends in high school, Chris, died of a drug overdose. And you were the one who found him. You tried to do CPR, but 1. you didn’t really know how to do CPR when you were 16 and 2. it was too late even if you did know how to do it correctly. This traumatic experience did 2 important things for you. You became a total straight edge, scared to death of drugs. And it made you want to save everyone. It’s probably why you became a nurse.

Tonight, you and Rafe were working in the ER together. Rafe was off taking care of patients on the other side of the emergency department, when the Charge nurse told you a cardiac arrest was coming in. She assigned roles to you and a couple of other nurses. You were assigned compressions.

“What’s coming in?” Someone asked.

“16 year old male, OD’d on unknown substances, found pulseless. ETA is 3 minutes.”

Your throat went dry. Of course you have dealt with drug overdoses in the ER all the time. But so far, none of them had been teens who were found pulseless. It just hit too close to home. You considered backing out and asking someone else to take your role. But then you realized: this is why you’re here. You’re here to give this kid the best chance at surviving this. You nodded your head to yourself and decided you could do this.

“Do we know his name?” You asked.

“No, not yet.”

By this time, Rafe had heard about the call coming in and he transferred and discharge his last couple patients, so he popped over to see if there was anything anyone needed.

When he saw you getting ready by the empty gurney and setting up the step stool you would stand on to be able to give proper compressions all the dots connected for him. He realized you were about to give compressions to a 16 year old who OD’d, just like your friend in high school.

“Y/N” he got your attention as a handful of people scurried and danced around each other preparing the area for this resuscitation attempt.

You looked up at him wondering what he wanted. “Let me do compressions” He said with some authority.

“It’s fine Rafe. I got it.” You shook your head at him.

“Y/N” he said more sternly. No one seemed to notice the exchange going on between you two as they busied themselves with their tasks.

“I said I got it.” You said aggressively. Rafe came over next to you so he could talk to you without anyone else hearing.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t.” He said with a hand on your hip, ready to physically pull you off the stool. You pushed his hand away roughly.

“I’m fine, Cameron” you said coldly. He recoiled at your tone and the use of his last name in a non-teasing way.

He backed away silently and stood out of the way to watch the resuscitation and be there as extra hands ...and to be there for you.

Then, the gurney came crashing through the doors. The medics who brought him in got him transferred onto your gurney.

“What’s his name?” You asked as soon as you got the chance.

“Michael” The medic replied and you nodded.

“Good to take over compressions?” the medic asked you.

“Yep” you stated confidently and he lifted his hands away from the boys chest. You replaced his hands with your’s. With your elbows locked and fingers laced together you used your body weight to push down on the kid’s chest, pumping his heart for him so blood would circulate his body.

You could feel Rafe standing nearby with his arms crossed, gloves already on in case he needed to jump in. Someone would have to take over compressions for you eventually no matter what. No one is supposed to do compressions for more than 2 minutes, because you get tired and start to not be as effective.

You knew the chances for this kid were not good. He was already dead. Someone found him dead. Who knows how long he had been that way. Narcan had already been given. His heart didn’t have a shockable rhythm. All you could do was compressions, breaths and give him epinephrine in hopes of starting his heart again.

“Come on Michael” you whispered over and over again.

“Let’s do a pulse check.” The code leader called out. “Pause compressions”

“Stopping compressions” you confirmed as you pulled your hands away from his chest. Rafe was already by your side, pushing you out of the way with his body.

“I’ll take over compressions” he announced to the entire room, so you couldn’t argue with him. You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the way. Even though you were mad at him for being overprotective, you knew someone would have had to take over for you soon, because you were getting tired, so you let it go.

Because it was a 16 year old kid on the table the team tried for almost 2 hours to resuscitate him. Rafe and one of the techs took turns doing compressions.

Finally, the team leader said, “One more round of epi and then we need to call it.” Rafe was the last one to give compressions.

The last round of epi was given and then there was a final pulse check.

“Still no pulse.” The nurse who was checking stated solemnly.

“Time of death 2347″ the doctor announced.

Rafe instantly looked at you. You were staring at Michael laying on the table as everyone started to back away from the gurney and clean up the area for when his family came in. Your stare was blank, your body was numb. Rafe was helping pick up all the discarded supplies and position Michael in a way that was appropriate, but he kept looking up at you. And you just kept staring at the gurney.

You felt your eyes get wetter. Finally, the room cleared out almost completely. One nurse stayed with Michael’s body. Rafe came over to you.

“Let’s go outside.” He said to you, trying to be gentle and firm at the same time. You finally broke out of your trance.

“What? No. I’m fine. I have other patients.” You said sniffling and shrugging off Rafe’s arm that he was trying to wrap around you.

“No, we have plenty of coverage. There’s no admits. We’re fine. Come on.” He said a little more sternly.

Before you could reply and before Rafe could get you to move from the trauma bay where Michael’s body was still laying in a gurney, his parents rushed in already in tears. Already grieving the loss of their son.

That’s when you felt your chest explode. Your legs felt weak, but something was holding you up. All of a sudden you were outside and everything was blurry, but you didn’t know how you got there. You were sobbing for a while before you realized Rafe was holding you against his chest.

“Breathe” Rafe was telling you calmly but you could hear concern in his voice. He was stroking your hair. “Y/N I need you to breathe.” You heard him again.

“Here, were gonna sit” Rafe guided you down to the ground to sit, he sat behind you with a leg on either side of you. Another nurse came outside, “Is she okay?” He asked.

“Yeah man, can you just grab a paper bag for her? She’s just hyperventilating a little. She needs to hold on to her CO2″ Rafe told him.

He placed his fingers on your shoulders, “Open up your chest, baby.” He told you gently, pulling your shoulders back. “Breathe ... slower ... breathe with me. Breathe in... good, hold it for a sec. 1, 2, 3, 4. Okay exhale. Slow slow. Good love. Again, slow.”

“Here ya go man.” The nurse handed Rafe a paper bag and went back inside. But you were breathing better now. Rafe moved so he could see your face. You took a deep breath and looked at his worried expression.

“It was just like Chris, Rafe. I just wanted to save him.” You cried and you weren’t sure if you meant save Chris or Michael or both.

“I know baby.” He said. “We can’t save everyone though.”

“And see?! I know that. We frickin watch people die all the time! I shouldn’t be out here crying on the sidewalk. There’s patients in there that need stuff and I’m out here crying.”

“You’re allowed to cry over it. There is no one inside who needs you right now. The census is low, they’re probably going to send someone home anyway because were overstaffed right now. ...And you’re allowed to get upset over it sometimes. This is a tough job, babe. And we all have patients that hit us a little harder sometimes. You don’t need to be a robot. Part of what makes us good at our jobs is that were human, ya know? You care, you have a huge heart. The world is a better place with a nurse like you who treats every patient like someone you care about. That was a tough loss on everyone, love, but we tried everything we could.”

You nodded, really soaking in his words, knowing Rafe was right. Everyone has especially hard days when a patient hits a little too close to home or it’s a patient you’ve bonded with and things don’t go the way you want.

“Yeah, I know” You gave Rafe the tiniest smile and sniffled. “Thanks Rafe”

“Of course, baby.” He leaned forward and used his thumbs to wipe the mascara stained tears from your face. Then he stood up and pulled you up.

“Do you wanna see if you can be the one sent home?” He asked.

“No, I’d rather stay and be distracted.” You said.

Just then, an ambulance pulled up and medics jumped out with a patient who had a table saw accident. You and Rafe looked at each other. “I’ll apply pressure.” You said already stepping towards the patient.

“I’m paging the blood bank and surgery.” Rafe said putting his phone between his shoulder and ear helping push the gurney into the trauma bay while you held pressure.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @hernameisnoell @railmerafe

#ER Nurse Rafe #nurse!rafe #nurse!reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron x Nurse!Reader #Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx imagine #obx fanfiction

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calpops · 4 years ago

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missing pieces | c.h.

A big family gathering before Christmas leaves you contemplating the missing pieces in your life. The people who matter most help you through it.

2k words

Day 10 of 12 dates with calmas | dates with cal masterlist

❅ ❅ ❅

Everyone is gathered around the table. Calum’s parents, Mali, Ashton, Luke, Michael and their respective partners. Mila sits in her reclined high chair right next to you and Calum; she’s still too small for a proper high chair and too young for solid food. But everyone loves her company at the table and fawns over her without faltering. Calum reaches for your hand while he keeps one on Mila, the near six month old entertained by her dad’s little tickles and boops on the nose. There’s a happiness inside of you as you take in all of the guests for your Christmas celebration. But as you keep looking around a hollow wound begins to open and ache again. Not everyone is here. You bite your lip and bite back emotions threatening to bubble over. You don’t want to ruin the evening.

“I can’t believe how big she’s gotten,” Calum’s mother coos from across the table.

Both you and Calum don’t see her as growing. You still see the baby fighting for life in an incubator, your daughter that could fit in one hand. You know she must be growing, getting stronger and smarter and more adept to the world around her. But you don’t see it yet. The changes are so gradual that when you’re with her everyday they slip past your eyes.

“She’s still my little girl,” Luke says and everyone shoots him a look.

“No, she’s my little girl,” Calum corrects around a laugh and shaking head. “Someone needs to get you your own baby before you try to take mine.”

Luke blushes but not in the humbleness of trying to claim Mila. He shrugs and waves a hand through the air to downplay Calum’s suggestion.

“If she’s anybody’s…” Mali says and trails off to look at you with a smile.

That warms your heart though you know it’s only half true. As much as Mila is yours she’s Calum’s too. You both love her with all of your hearts and as far as you can tell she loves you both equally. If she’s not with both of you she’s with one or the other. Calum pulled her first laugh from her but he often reminds you she first smiled at the mention and sight of you. Everyone simmers back into Christmas conversation, asking about presents for Mila and plans for the big day. Calum goes nonchalant and you catch the forced casualty but don’t question it; so much else is already on your mind.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Calum asks in a whisper pressed to your ear.

You nod, downplaying the fact that you’re not sure about that answer. It amazes you he can pick up on the subtleties in your mood even when you try to mask it with all of your might. You steel yourself, try to shake away the crushing feeling pressing down on you at two empty chairs. You squeeze Calum’s hand and quietly stand to get Mila in your arms.

“I’m gonna go feed her,” you explain and gently take her to you and quietly disappear down the hallway.

Calum sits back in his chair and quietly muses over what to do. He thinks he knows what’s going on, eyes trailing to the same two chairs that were once in your sights. He knows you have Mila and wonders if maybe you want space from the event around you or space from everyone.

“Everything alright?” Ashton asks, his seat diagonal to Calum’s, his ability to pick up on his best friend’s distress a natural talent.

“I’m not sure,” Calum answers honestly and stands to excuse himself and go figure it out. “I’ll be back.”

He roams down the hall quietly but quickly. The door to the nursery is open and the room is empty. He moves past it to your bedroom door that stands shut. He doesn’t hear anything and while it would normally be a sign of relief a little tremble of anxiety slices through him. Usually you’d be murmuring to Mila, giggling with her or if she wasn’t hungry already back out to join the dinner. He taps his knuckles softly against the door and calls out to you to announce that he’s entering.

He stops short as soon as the door is open. You have Mila in your arms but you’re not feeding her. You’re sat on the edge of the bed cradling her against your chest, rocking slightly back and forth as silent tears fall down your face. Calum can feel his heart shatter at the sight and moves on instinct to the two of you. You look up and meet his gaze but don’t say a word, both of you communicating silently; always knowing what’s on the other's mind and in their heart and worries. Calum gently coaxes Mila from your arms to put her in her bassinet by the bed. She seems mostly unbothered, not able to understand anything but the comfort of your arms. She stirs a little bit as she settles in but is okay enough for Calum to seek you out and offer his arms for you to fall into.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks as he wraps you up in his hold and runs a soothing hand down your back.

“Yes, no, I don’t know,” you answer in a shaking voice. “I just feel so stupid. I should know better by now.”

Calum shakes his head at your words and the fact you genuinely feel that way. It wrenches at him. He knows exactly what you’re talking about and though he wants to defend you to the bottom of the ocean and back he wants you to come to some realizations on your own as well.

“They should do better,” Calum simply mumbles and runs his hands through your hair. He hopes you understand what he means. The struggle you’ve had with your parents being life long. You deserve better than empty promises and last minute cancellations.

“I thought maybe with Christmas and Mila it might be different, I thought they might try a little harder,” you finally manage to get out after a moment of prolonged silence. “It’s okay for them to cancel on me. I’m used to it. Mila deserves more. They haven’t even met her yet.”

Calum can hear the heart break in your words. He knows how heavily their absence in Mila’s life has hung over you. He sees the way you look at his parents interactions with Mila and the way you wish your parents would do the same. So many times you’ve tried to reach out to them and so many times they’ve let you down. He always reminds you that you have him and Mila and his parents and Mali and the guys as family but he understands it’s not quite the same and that a little hollow piece of you still yearns for your parents approval and care.

“You deserve better too,” Calum says and hopes you’ll believe it.

“It stopped bothering me for a while, I accepted they didn’t want to put in effort for me,” you explain around a few sniffles, face firmly planted against Calum’s chest as rogue tears stain his shirt. “It was pretty clear when they didn’t show up to meet you or to our wedding. I thought I was over it. Then we had Mila and almost lost her and it’s like they didn’t even care. Now it’s Christmas and they still don’t care. She’s the sweetest little girl, she deserves grandparents, she deserves everything. It breaks my heart. Why don’t they care?”

Calum has no answer to the shattering question you pose and even if he did he knows nothing—no answer or explanation—will ever justify their absence. He stays silent and holds you. Rocks back and forth with you in his arms almost like you both do with Mila. He can feel with every little motion that you’re trying to pull yourself together but he’s always been the place that you can fall apart. He doesn’t coax you to do anything. Just stays with you, becomes a presence to help fill the void.

“Sweetheart,” he finally mumbles after minutes of quiet. He feels your clutch on him tighten as you slightly shift to meet his gaze. His fingers lightly settle under your chin to keep you with him. “She doesn’t need them. They don’t deserve her or you.”

“What?” you mumble out the one worded question; clearly hearing the words but unable to grasp them fully.

“She doesn’t need them, she has me and you. You give her more love than imaginable,” Calum explains and you nod to show you understand. He lets out a breath and so do you though it shakes. “If they don’t care to try they don’t deserve to have you keep trying. You’re too good for them. So is Mila, look at her,” Calum explains further and coaxes you to raise your head and find your reason for everything. Mila smiles when you meet eyes with her and it’s enough to convince you of Calum’s words.

“I just feel bad she’ll grow up missing part of her family,” you finally admit and maybe it’s more or less about her and you.

“With all of those people out there who love her, she’ll never miss a thing,” Calum says and grins to himself as a thought enters his mind. “And I mean, Luke did walk you down the aisle so that kinda makes him her pseudo grandpa?”

You erupt into laughter and shake your head no. “Don’t even joke about that with him. He’s already vying for favorite uncle. We don’t need him fighting your dad to be the favorite grandfather.”

Calum purses his lips as he contemplates the very real possibility of that before laughing with you. He wipes away remnants of tears on your face and gives you another moment to collect yourself. Once he finds that you’re back together he gives you a little nuzzle. “Ready to get back out there?”

You nod and stand. Mila lights up and lets out a little noise as you bring her back into your arms. You keep her close and Calum stays by your side as you head back out to the dining room where your family waits. They all greet you warmly but don’t comment on or question your disappearance. You keep Mila in your hold instead of putting her back in her high chair. Small talk resumes and eventually Ashton proposes a toast.

“To a good holiday season,” he finishes.

“And to family,” you pitch in and make everyone agree. Glasses clink. “Thanks for being here with us.”

Everyone agrees with the sentiment and says there’s nowhere else they’d rather be. In that moment, gathered with those who love and care for you and your daughter, it’s easy to let go of those who don’t and to appreciate all that you have. When one of Calum’s hands grabs for yours and the other gently holds Mila’s you’re also sure there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

—

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years ago

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 23: You Could Be

Chapter 22

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The rest of the week following Claire and Jamie’s second date passed rather hectically (they had decided to refer to it as such, even though Faith was there for half of it). Jamie had left on Wednesday night around one o’clock in the morning, Claire having fallen asleep close to the end of the movie. She’d garbled something unintelligible when Michael killed Fredo, something that she’d translated for him later to have meant: “Fucking traitor.”

He’d let her sleep, and when Claire had chided him about it, told him he should have woken her so they could talk or something, he’d just shrugged and said:

“Ye looked so bloody peaceful, mo nighean donn. Drool on my shoulder and all.”

That earned him a swat to the arm.

“I mean it. Holding ye while ye slept, not a care in the world…was like Heaven on Earth.”

That earned him a very generous kiss.

After saying goodnight, Claire collapsed into bed happy as a clam, and then the chaos began. She opened her eyes to Faith standing right next to her in bed, a la the twins in The Shining, and she’d nearly jumped out of her skin. The girl had proceeded to crawl right into bed with Claire, whining in protest when Claire’s alarm started going off. Claire tried to hold her off as long as possible, but when Mrs. Lickett knocked on the door and they were still in bed, she knew they were in trouble. The poor woman had to pry Faith off of Claire just so she could get ready for work, and she screamed her little head off the whole time. For some reason, Faith did not want Mummy going to work today, and did not want to be left with poor Mrs. Lickett.

There was no rhyme or reason to when Faith got in these moods; she just decided some days that Mummy was not going to leave. And, of course, with Claire’s chosen profession, she did not have the option to oblige her. Perhaps that was for the best; Mrs. Lickett did say they couldn’t always indulge her. But God, if it wouldn’t get her fired, Claire would get right back into bed and hold her baby until she calmed down, and she might never leave again.

Still hearing Faith scream even through the front door and then her car door, Claire finally shed a few overwrought, panicked tears. She glanced tearily at her phone in her bag, thinking to call Jamie, then talked herself out of it.

He doesn’t need to hear every time you’re going crazy, Beauchamp.

She put the key in the ignition, then caught sight of Faith in the window, slamming her palms on the glass, both Mrs. Lickett and Angus trying to talk some sense into her. And then she couldn’t stop herself.

She opened his contact and pressed the call button, put the phone on speaker, and put it in a pocket in the door before pulling out of the driveway. As the phone rang, she sniffled and swallowed thickly, even though she knew that her voice would give her away immediately. It rang for a while, and Claire immediately felt dread in the pit of her stomach, thinking he must be asleep. The stables didn’t open until ten, and she had him over until one.

Idiot.

Before she could panic-hang-up, it stopped ringing.

“Everything alright, Sassenach?”

“Oh,” she said stupidly, putting on her turn signal to get on the main road. “Hi, yes, everything is fine.”

“Are ye crying, Sassenach?” His voice was alert.

“No, I’m — I’m fine. I’m so sorry I woke you, I had you up so late — ”

“Forget that. I’m an early bird. What’s wrong?” It was gentle, soft, but insistent. He was not going to let her let this go.

Claire sighed. “Really, nothing is wrong. Not really. I’m just driving to work. And it’s already been…a day.”

“How’s that?”

So gentle.

“Faith did not want me to leave this morning. She just gets like that sometimes, doesn’t want me to go, doesn’t want to do anything Mrs. Lickett has planned for the day. She was screaming her poor head off and she didn’t even want anything to do with Angus, at least while I was there. I didn’t even get a chance to eat anything and I’m already getting a headache.” She chuckled nervously, wiping her eyes with one hand, keeping one on the wheel. “Sorry…I’m rambling.”

“Dinna be sorry, Claire. I’m sorry ye had a rough morning. And I’m sorry fer the wee lass. She misses ye when ye’re gone sometimes, eh?”

“Yeah…” she sighed sadly. “I suppose she does. She used to do it a lot more; there would be a meltdown every day I left the house. Every time I think she’s outgrown it, it comes back full force. And I just feel…awful just…leaving her like that. And I can’t call off for something that isn’t an emergency. I just can’t. And I…”

“Claire.”

She paused, having a feeling he was about to say something.

“Ye’re a good mam, Claire.”

She bit down on her lip fiercely, nearly losing sight of the road as her eyes watered.

“I ken ye dinna feel that way when ye have to leave her every day, and I canna imagine how that feels. But ye’re no’ the only mam that works, and it doesna matter that ye’re a single parent, either.”

Claire sniffled again, haphazardly wiping her eyes. “I just…I know that I do so much for her. I do know that. But on days like today…it just feels like I’ll never be enough, like I’ll never be able to give her everything she needs.”

“Christ, Sassenach, ye’re more than enough. Ye have to know that. Ye have to work to give her those things she needs. Ye have to know that, too. Ye’re doing the best ye can, and it’s great. Ye’re a good mother.”

Claire sniffled again, quite loudly, and she almost laughed at how gross she must have sounded on his end. “Thank you, Jamie. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Nothing at all is just fine.”

She pulled into the employee parking lot of the hospital, and she sighed heavily. “I’m…I’m sorry again to have woken you up like this — ”

“No apologies, mo nighean donn — ”

“And I’m sorry I have to go so soon; I’m already running late and I’m sure I’m going to be reamed — ”

“No need to explain yerself. Hang up the phone, get yerself calmed down, and get in there and save some lives. Aye?”

Claire laughed as she pulled into her spot. “Nothing like a pep-talk from coach Fraser to get me in the zone.”

He laughed as well. “Glad to hear it.”

Claire took the key out of the ignition and picked up her phone. “Thank you again, Jamie. Really. This was…more helpful than I can even explain.”

“No explanation needed. I get it. I mean I don’t get it-get it. But I…I understand.”

“Right.” She smiled fondly at his carefulness to not even imply that he really knew what it was like while still ensuring her that he understood her. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Aye. Let me know if she’s alright when ye go home. I hope work isna too rough on ye today.”

“I will. Thanks. Goodbye, Jamie.”

“G’bye, mo ghraidh.”

She hung up and held her phone to her chest for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

You’re fine, Beauchamp.

You’re a good mum, and a good doctor.

It was hard to believe even as she said it to herself, but she was at least able to get out of the car, checking how much of a wreck she was briefly in the rear-view mirror.

The day was just as hectic as it would be on an already bad day, and Claire was dead on her feet by the time she got to the break room, having not even had time for the shitty coffee it had to offer when she’d arrived. She collapsed in the chair nearest the door, pressing her eyes into her hand and watching the colors and shapes dance around in her head for a moment.

“Earth to Lady Jane.”

She inhaled sharply and picked her head up, finding Joe standing by the counter.

“Don’t fall asleep on me without getting a load of this.”

“What…?” She reluctantly heaved herself out of her chair and trudged toward the counter where Joe was smirking at a brown paper bag and a styrofoam coffee cup that did not belong to the hospital.

“What’s this…?” Claire said.

“Been here all morning. Louise said a very attractive redhead dropped it off for Doctor Beauchamp.”

Claire felt her face melt into the most ridiculously liquid smile. “He did not…”

She opened the bag to find a napkin sitting on top with writing scrawled in black pen:

Sassenach,

Got ye a BEC (that’s bacon egg and cheese) since you didn’t have breakfast. Plain bagel since I don’t know your preference (remind me to ask you that). Figured you forgot to pack lunch as well, so I got you a deli sandwich I thought you’d like. That coffee reheated is still better than the shite in your break room, I promise ye that. Good deli; I’m good friends with the owner. Great guy. Have to take you someday.

Hope this helps,

JAMMF

Claire shook her head in disbelief, handing Joe the napkin to read.

“Damn,” he said. “That man is too much.”

Claire pulled out her BEC and unwrapped it, melting into a nearby chair as she ate. Joe popped her coffee into the microwave for her and sat down next to her.

“Too much indeed,” Claire garbled, mouth full of food. “He’s too good to be true.”

“But it’s true, Lady Jane.” He patted her knee.

“Yeah…” She smiled dreamily. “It is.”

——

Saturday was another date-night, or rather date-afternoon. They went to see The Free State of Jones at the movie theater since it had been out for about a month and Jamie had been wanting to see it. Evidently, Jamie was more of a history buff than Claire had picked up on, and she thoroughly enjoyed watching him absorb the movie, and she also enjoyed the movie quite a lot herself. She knew next to nothing about the American Civil War aside from what was to be seen in Gone With the Wind.

They'd managed to keep kissing to a minimum in the theater, but they weren't completely prudish. There were, after all, only eight other people in the entire theater, and they were spread out enough that they managed to share a few lingering kisses. But outside of that, they actually watched the movie, and Claire did not fall asleep.

“I didna bore ye wi' my long movie this time, Sassenach?” Jamie teased as they left the building.

“Oh, don't even. I worked all day Wednesday, and it was past my bedtime,” Claire shot back. “And besides, I still retained what happened. I just retained this movie…better.”

Jamie tossed back his head in a barking laugh as they got into his car. He brought her to a pizzeria, and the man behind the counter cried out with joy to see Jamie.

“Hey! It's Fraser!”

“Hallo, Vinny,” Jamie called back, putting his hand on the small of Claire's back.

“And who is this?” the dark-haired, red-faced man asked.

“This,” Jamie flashed a smile at Claire, swelling with pride, “is my girlfriend. Claire Beauchamp.”

“A girlfriend!” Vinny boomed. “Hey! Luca!” He shouted at the door that Claire presumed led to the kitchen. His New York-Italian accent increased dramatically when he yelled. “Fraser’s got a girl here!”

Claire felt herself blushing fiercely, and Vinny reached over the glass display of pizza slices to shake her hand.

“Great to meet you, Claire.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Claire answered, shaking his hand.

“Ha!” Vinny laughed heartily, squeezing her hand and giving it another shake. “What’d ya do? Send for her from across the ocean?”

Jamie joined him in laughter. “She found me, actually. Her Englishness is a complete coincidence.”

“My daughter is a client at Harmony Stables,” Claire chimed in. “That’s how we met.”

“Oh! Well I’ll be damned! Hey! Luca! Get out here!” He yelled back again unexpectedly, causing Claire to jump a little. “Goddamn, Fraser, look at her!”

“Aye, I ken.” Claire blushed fiercely as Jamie swelled with pride again, squeezing her shoulder and pressing her into his side. “I’m a lucky man.”

“Ya gotta bring your daughter here sometime. I’d love to meet her,” Vinny said, leaning against the counter. “I know most of those kids already, but I think I’d remember you.”

Claire smiled.

“Vinny’s is where we get the pizza fer events,” Jamie explained. “All the kids know him by name.”

“Oh! Well then I’m already a happy customer,” Claire said with a chuckle.

“What’s her name?” Vinny asked.

“Faith.”

“Beautiful! Ya gotta bring her by, I just love those kids — ”

Just then, the kitchen doors opened, and a man who could have been a second Vinny burst in, apparently Luca.

“Well I’ll be damned!”

Claire chuckled to herself; they even said the same words in the same exact way.

“Where the hell did you find her?” Luca said.

“This is my brother, Luca. Vincent Senior is our old man. He’s around sometimes, just not today,” Vinny explained. “This is Claire Beauchamp. From England.”

“Great to meet you! Whatsamatter, couldn’t find a girl around here?” Luca ribbed, shaking Claire’s hand.

“Ye need original content, Luca,” Jamie said. “Yer brother said the same thing.”

“Alright, alright, enough gawking at the poor thing,” Vinny interrupted. “What can I get for ya?”

“The usual fer me,” Jamie said. “How about you, Sassenach?”

“What’s your usual?” she asked.

“Buffalo chicken slice.”

She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Yucking someone else’s yum again?” He cocked a brow at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you have a meat lover’s slice? Something like that?”

“Sure do.”

“Alright, I’ll have that.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water for me,” Claire said.

“Ginger ale fer me,” Jamie said.

Claire pulled out her wallet.

“What are ye doing?”

“Paying for our lunch.”

“Sassenach — ”

“Jamie, you paid for that obscenely expensive food last week, and the carnival tickets, and you bought all the ingredients for that bloody lasagna. Not to mention today’s movie. Let me pay for one thing. I’m a doctor for Christ’s sake, it’s not as if I can’t afford some bloody pizza.”

Without another word, Claire handed Vinny her credit card, and Jamie did not try to fight her. Vinny’s brows were nearly at his hairline, and he was clearly fighting the urge to grin.

“I like this one, Fraser!” Luca called, shoveling their slices into the oven before departing into the kitchen.

Claire tried to hide her smirk of pride as she signed the receipt.

“So you’re a doctor?” Vinny said. “Stony Brook?”

“Yes, Emergency Medicine,” Claire said proudly. “Still a residency, but yes.”

“Goddamn, Fraser,” Vinny said again, shaking his head as he returned Claire’s card. “Don’t you even think about letting this one go.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Jamie winked, and then led Claire to a table.

“So, are you friends with every small business owner on Long Island?” Claire asked, flashing a glance at Vinny.

“Not every…but a fair amount,” he said. “Sorry about that, by the way. I should’ve warned ye that they’d be…curious. About my having a lass wi’ me.”

She chuckled. “That’s alright. They’re fun.”

“Didna scare ye away?”

“Not at all.” She laced their fingers together on the table.

They began discussing the movie and all the tangents it brought up, and then Vinny came by with their individual slices. Claire should have realized that Jamie would have ordered two slices; she didn’t even notice on her receipt.

“How you can eat neon orange on pizza is beyond me,” she said, watching him take a bite.

“Dinna like spicy, Sassenach?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said. “Buffalo chicken is a chicken wing flavor, not a pizza flavor. Two worlds that should not collide.”

He made an amused Scottish noise and took another bite. “So ye like buffalo wings then?”

“I’ve been known to handle a few.”

“We’ll have to test that someday.”

She hummed in amusement, and then dug into her own slice. Jamie was finished with both of his slices before Claire was finished with her one slice, even though she could tell he’d been trying to pace himself to be polite. Before they left, Claire ordered a plain slice for Faith to eat when she got home, since it would be dinner time shortly. Faith didn’t mind an off-routine early dinner if she was getting something special like pizza. Jamie also ordered them Italian ices, lemon for him and rainbow for Claire, and she caught him trying to pay for the ices and Faith’s dinner. One look was enough to have him putting his wallet back in his pocket, and this time, Vinny did laugh out loud.

With an aggressively friendly slap on Jamie's shoulder, Vinny bid them farewell, and they headed back to Claire's apartment. Though Faith was normally over the moon at the return of her mother (especially if she had Jamie with her), she remained entirely nonplussed at their arrival, entirely too focused on the puzzle she was doing with Delia. It wasn't until Claire said the word “pizza” that Faith sprung up from the coffee table and started pawing at her mother’s legs.

“That’s what I thought,” Claire said with a chuckle. “Yes, I know.” Faith reached up for the pizza and moaned in annoyance as Claire held it higher. “Pizza after you say goodbye to your friend and to Auntie Gail.”

Faith screwed up her face in protest, making exaggerated whining noises, but Claire just stared her down. “Stop whining, and be polite. Say goodbye.”

Faith turned around and gave Delia a reluctant hug, which Claire had to remind Faith to be gentle with in her reluctance. She hugged Gail with the same begrudging attitude, and then she began tugging on Claire’s shirt to pull her into the kitchen.

Claire looked back and forth between Faith and Gail and Delia.

“Jamie, can you go with her?” She handed him the box containing Faith’s slice, and he nodded wordlessly.

“C’mon lass. Let’s get ye settled fer supper.”

Claire shook her head in exasperation as she thanked Gail for babysitting once again, and then saw them off outside. By the time she got back to the kitchen, Faith was already sitting at the table with her pizza slice shaped plate, Jamie nearly finished cutting up the slice.

“How did you know about the pizza plate?” Claire said, amused.

“Well, I tried putting it on a normal plate, and she wasna having that. Tried one of those princess plates I ken ye’ve got, didna work either. Then she dragged me to the cabinet and wouldna move ’til I found this.” He finished cutting the pizza, having kept the general shape of it to fit the shape of the plate.

Claire’s grin was unabashedly enormous, and she closed the gap between them, meeting him behind Faith’s chair.

“Excellent work, detective.” He smirked, and she leaned in to kiss him, emboldened by Faith’s lack of attention, focused as she was on eating her pizza. Jamie hummed with amused contentment into the kiss, causing a brief vibrating sensation against her lips.

Jamie trailed his fingertips up over her hips to rest on the small of her back, pointedly avoiding her arse. Claire groaned in annoyance, but grinned anyway, pulling away to rest their foreheads together, draping her arms around his neck. For a moment, they just swayed absently to the music of Faith’s humming to the tune of “Someday My Prince Will Come,” not skipping a beat even as she chewed.

It wasn’t long at all before Faith pushed her plate away and hoisted herself up onto her knees, turning around to stand on the chair and tap on both of their heads. They both laughed softly.

“All done, lovie?” Claire took her hands off Jamie so she could sign. “All done?”

Faith repeated the sign lazily, and Claire was about to correct her when she started jumping in the chair, pointing at the freezer.

“Woah! Careful there, lass. Remember what Mam said about climbing, aye?” Without thinking, Jamie scooped her up from under her arms, lifted her over the back of the chair, and deposited her safely onto the ground.

Claire thought absolutely nothing of it, starting to head over to the freezer for Faith’s ice cream, but then Jamie froze. He drew away from Faith quickly yet gently, looking up at Claire, absolutely mortified.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I should have asked. I’ve no right tae just pick her up like that. I’m sorry, Claire.”

Faith was none the wiser; she flitted over to the freezer.

“Jamie,” Claire said quickly, reaching for his hands. “She’s fine.” She maintained eye contact to emphasize her point, but the worry between his furrowed brows would not ease. “She’s been letting you touch her for a while now. That was perfectly normal for her. And perfectly natural for you to do it.”

“Are ye…are ye sure…?”

Claire still held his gaze as she raised his hands to her lips and kissed them fervently. “She trusts you, Jamie.”

Faith gave a small shout then, apparently not at all pleased that her request for ice cream was going ignored for so long.

“You ok?” Claire asked.

“Aye, sorry,” he chuckled. “Wee panic over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Claire left his side to open the freezer, and Faith began bouncing with joy. “It makes perfect sense that you’d be afraid to cross that boundary with her. But I think in her head, you’re already past that point.”

She reached into the cabinet for a bowl and then the drawer for a spoon.

“I, uh…” Jamie stammered. “Hadna realized, I suppose.”

“You really don’t know how special you are to her? — Yes, yes, go sit down.” Claire crossed the kitchen to put down the ice cream in Faith’s spot.

“I suppose I…hoped. But I never wanted to assume,” Jamie said sheepishly. “I ken ye say I’m ‘dating’ ye both, but I didna ken if she…knew that.”

Claire chuckled softly, caressing Faith’s curly head as her spoon clanked against her bowl. “I think she does.”

Jamie’s grin widened lopsidedly, and Claire had to physically restrain herself from jumping into his arms and kissing him senseless.

“Ye’ll tell me, though? If I need to pull back wi’ her?”

“I think she would tell you, loud and clear,” Claire said dryly, her eyes full of mirth. “No, I know what you mean. And yes, I would. Surely it’s not the same with you as it is for me where you can just snatch her like I have to sometimes. It’s a bit different, as…”

“Her parent,” Jamie finished for her, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.”

“Believe me, I understand. I ken I’m no’ her parent.”

Claire’s stomach flipped; not at what he said, but at what her brain decided to say after he said it.

You could be.

“Right,” she said instead, internally yelling back at herself that she was a nutter for thinking something so bloody serious about a man who she’d gone on a first date with a week ago. “But you’re…building something different, special in its own way. You both need time before you have to start laying down the law like I have to.”

“Aye, I understand.”

“But,” Claire said, finally making her way over to him and taking his hands again. “You can pick her up if it looks like she wants you to, you can hold her hand, hug her, whatever it seems she wants from you.” Jamie nodded, his eyes lighting up. “You read her well enough at this point. You’ll know.”

“Aye. I will.”

Claire pecked him gently. When she pulled away, Jamie was not looking at her, but instead looking out of the corner of his eye. When Claire followed his gaze, she caught Faith flitting out of the kitchen, hands and face still smeared with chocolate ice cream.

“Oh no you don’t!” Claire rushed to snatch Faith by the wrist and drag her back into the kitchen and toward the sink. “There will be no watching any movie that gets smothered with ice cream.”

Faith squirmed in annoyance and tried to get away, and then Claire got an idea.

“Hey, hey, listen, Faith,” she said. “Why doesn’t Jamie help you wash your hands? Hm?”

She looked up to Jamie, and he immediately sprang into action. “Right, how does that sound, lass?”

Faith immediately stopped fighting, and she turned around to face Jamie, holding up her messy hands expectantly. Jamie chuckled and turned on the water, then lifted her under the arms so she could reach the running water.

“Very good, give them a good scrub,” he crooned, and she obeyed clumsily. “Give yer face a good scrub too, aye? Dinna want chocolate-mouth fer yer movie. Aye, good girl.”

Claire stood there against the counter, paper towel ready for drying, her heart swelling three sizes.

How could I ever have thought we’d be better off without him…?

So occupied she was with adoration, she nearly missed when Faith was back on the ground and Jamie turned off the taps.

“Good job, Faithie,” Claire said, crouching down to wipe her face clean of any more smudges, using the lingering water on her face, then dried her hands. “Alright, all done. Let’s pick a movie, shall we?”

They shifted into the living room, where Faith retrieved Monsters, Inc., and they settled into their usual positions. Claire didn’t have a shift this week that ended early enough for Jamie to have time to come over and make dinner before Faith’s bedtime, so they were getting in their movie time tonight. Since dinner was a bit earlier than normal, the movie also ended a bit earlier than normal. They finished the puzzle that Faith hadn’t finished with Delia, then started and finished another one, all while Faith’s music played from Claire’s phone, with the occasional interruption for a little dance.

When bedtime rolled around, Jamie said goodnight to Faith, earning a pat on the cheek before she scurried off. After the whole routine, Claire poured them drinks and nuzzled into him on the couch. She flicked Netflix on and let The Office start playing from a random episode in the middle of season three.

“Ye’re like a wee kitten,” Jamie said.

“What?” She craned her neck to pick her head up from its spot on his chest.

“The way ye’re stretched out and balled up at the same time, all over me.”

Claire made an indignant little “hmph” sound, but made no attempt to move; she, in fact, buried herself in further.

“I hope you’re at least a cat person,” she said.

He made an amused Scottish noise. “More of a dog person, really. No’ those wee yapping ones; I need a beast wi’ more substance. Like Angus. That’s a fine creature.”

Claire scoffed indignantly, sitting up and facing him. “So you tell me I’m a kitten and then tell me you don’t like cats.”

“Didna say I didna like ’em.”

“You may as well have.”

“Och, Sassenach.” He leaned in, his lips lingering inches from hers. “Ye ken by now I like having ye on top of me, feline or no.”

He made to close the gap, to kiss her, but Claire leaned back, causing him to chase after her and open his eyes when he didn’t make contact. Claire laughed at the unconscious pout he made. “What on Earth ever made me think you were the smoothest talker I ever met?”

“Dinna ken about that. My foot ends up in my mouth quite more than I’d care to admit.”

“Hm. Indeed.”

“I’d much rather…” He moved in closer, and Claire had no further to go, stuck against the arm of the couch. “Have something else in my mouth.”

“Oh?” She raised a brow, then darted her tongue out to lick her lips, far too slowly. “What could that be?”

He growled possessively and claimed her lips with his, and she moaned lightly against them. She did not waste any time before obliging him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and mingling it with his. They lingered like this for a moment, performing the carefully and repeatedly rehearsed dance of lips and tongue, then they parted, Jamie folding her into himself again. They focused lazily on the tellie for a bit before Jamie broke the silence.

“Ye ever seen the beaches around here, Sassenach?”

“No, actually. Seems silly after how long I’ve been here now.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I was just thinking about my own family dogs running around on the beaches in Scotland — ”

“So now you were thinking of dogs while kissing me?”

“And I — Och, come off it.” He playfully swatted her arse, causing her to squeak and swat him back, directly on his left pectoral. “I was thinking that it would be nice to take Faith. She likes the water, aye?”

“Yes, she’s obsessed, ever since she was a baby. Bath time is a field day. Ever since I took her to the Abernathy’s pool that one time, every time Gail comes over Faith scurries into her room for her bathing suit.”

Jamie laughed softly. “She kens what she wants.”

“Indeed.”

“So…what d’ye think? Would she be alright if there was a crowd?”

“Well…we won’t know unless we try. And Angus is helpful during stable events. So maybe she’ll be alright.”

“Aye, he’s a service dog so he’ll be allowed on any beach we choose.”

Claire got an image in her head of Faith squishing sand in her hands, loving the sensory aspect of it, squealing as cold water rushed over her toes.

“If she canna handle it we’ll have a backup plan. We can take her to the stables and use the sprinkler from the Fourth of July. Fill a kiddie pool or something.”

Claire felt warmth spread from head to toe. He knew without having to ask that even if Faith didn’t want to be at the beach, if she was in her bathing suit, she’d be expecting a water activity and would not be happy doing anything else.

She sat up and tenderly kissed his check, caressing his stubbled chin and jaw. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

He smiled and took her caressing hand in both of his, then kissed her knuckles. “Alright. That’s braw. I ken most of the beaches, so I ken the ones that are most crowded, the ones that play loud live music, which ones have sand or rocks. Faith’ll want sand, of course.”

She smiled, nodding. “Right.”

“Next Saturday? I’ll prepare the lunches, you prepare the bairn and the dog?”

“Yes, okay. That’s perfect.”

Seemingly from sheer excitement nearly bubbling over, Jamie kissed her soundly.

“I’ll start preparing her starting tomorrow, give her a rundown of the routine — ”

“I’ll arrive at nine to pick ye both up — ”

“Great, I can tell her what time she needs to wake up, what time breakfast needs to be finished, what time she needs to dress and lotion up — ”

“Have her bring her tablet in the car, the beach I have in mind is an hour away — ”

“I’ll lay some towels on the living room floor, and we’ll practice staying on the towel so maybe she won’t bolt while we’re there — ”

“Fine idea. That’s braw.”

They were talking over each other, stumbling over their words like a couple of school children talking about recess. They shook their heads at themselves, then shared another kiss, lingering with their foreheads together.

“D’ye think it’ll ever stop?”

“What?”

“This…feeling. Like I’m…gonna burst at the thought of seeing ye again, even when ye’re still right in front of me.”

Claire pulled away only enough so that she could meet his eye and caress his chin.

“I don't know. But I hope it never does.”

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

Note

17 for Malex

17. Blink [ao3]

Every single person on Earth makes mistakes.

Or at least that’s what Michael told himself as he hunched over, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. He kept repeating to himself over and over that he couldn’t swear even if that would make him feel better because the parents of this fucking kid would fire him the minute they told on him.

“Kennedy?” Michael said, squinting and rubbing his eyes and trying to stop the burn as quickly as he could, “Kennedy, stay by me.”

“I wanna play!”

“We have to go home,” Michael said calmly. However, by the sound of steps running away from him, he figured she wasn’t listening. He groaned again and rubbed his eyes even more.

Do it, Isobel had said. It’ll be fun and the money is good, she said. The kids are cute and it’s a live-in position and it’ll totally be worth it. And she wasn’t wrong on all points. The money was good and the kids were cute. But the older one was a fucking menace who apparently had a track record of running nannies off and the parents had a list longer than fucking pi and he was just an engineering student doing his best and now he had sand in his eyes.

“Fisher, you still alive?” Michael asked through his own pout. Fisher made a gurgle of acknowledgment from his place in his stroller and Michael snorted. “Okay, that’s good.”

“Hey, excuse me,” a voice said from behind him. Michael cursed himself and turned around, hands still in his eyes that were still burning. “Hey, uh, I saw what happened. It’s not my first rodeo with sand in the eye if you want some help?”

The voice was soft and smooth and probably belonging to the only other adult male in the park because Michael had only seen women thus far. Well, before he was blinded. Still, he let out a thankful breath and tried not to think about how he was being a bad influence by talking to strangers.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, sit down on the bench,” the man said, helping guide him a few steps away to the bench.

“Wait, Fisher‒”

“I got the stroller,” he said, laughing softly. Michael reached out to get his hand on it to double-check because the last thing he needed was to have one of them kidnapped. “I’m Alex, by the way.”

“Michael,” he said, letting Alex tilt his head back over the back of the bench.

“Hi, Michael. Nice to meet you. This might burn,” Alex warned before the water hit Michael’s eye. He jumped and squinted more, blinking frantically. Alex shushed him like he would a baby and then a soft cloth wiped over his eye. It helped the stinging a bit and then Alex poured more water in his other eye. “I see you’re the new Westchester nanny.”

“Are they infamous or something?” Michael nearly whined, letting Alex keep doctoring up his eyes. He gave him a second to blink and his vision was slowly starting to fix itself, the burning subsiding for the most part. The irritation was still there.

“Kind of. But, like, all the nannies in Castle Village sort of know each other,” Alex said. He said Castle Village like it was normal and not a gated community full of people so rich they could eat Michael for lunch and get away with it. “But, yeah, we know the Westchester kids more than the nanny because they never stay too long.”

“I can see why,” Michael grumbled. Alex guided his head to be upright and offered him a dry cloth, letting him rub at his eyes as much as he needed.

“Kennedy just acts out. Parents never give her enough attention is my theory,” Alex said simply. Which, honestly, was putting it lightly.

“Alex,” a tiny voice asked through childlike panting after it ran up to them. Michael was still busy rubbing his eyes.

“What’s up?” Alex asked.

“Can I have gummies?”

“What do you say?”

“Pretty please?”

“Yeah,” Alex chuckled, “Sure. Sit down and catch your breath first so you don’t choke.”

Michael rubbed his eyes and blinked a few billion times until his vision stopped being a total disaster. He sniffled as it cleared a bit and he saw the back of Alex’s head as he bent over to search through his baby bag for gummies. The kid he nannied was sitting on the other side of the bench with glasses basically strapped to his head and a buzzcut.

“Hi,” the kid said, waving. Michael wondered how long he’d been waving before he noticed.

“Hi,” Michael said back.

“I’m Liam.”

“Michael.”

He opened his mouth to probably start talking a lot more, but Alex subdued him by sitting the packet of gummies down on the top of the bag and then requested his hands. Michael watched as Alex poured a bit of water on his hands, dried them, and then covered them in hand sanitizer. Liam giggled as Alex rubbed his little hands between his own, covering them to the best of his ability before opening the packet and handing it to him.

The entire time, Michael got a good view of Alex’s face and, honestly, he felt like he needed to go hide in a bush. The guy was attractive as hell and even more so when he was smiling wide at the kid and he saw Michael basically be a little bitch with sand in his eyes. He could feel his entire face heat up.

“Thank you,” Liam said, happily plucking one of the gummies out and shoving it into his mouth. Alex’s attention turned towards Michael after a warm ‘you’re very welcome’.

“How’re your eyes?” Alex asked and that smile being turned on him made it that much worse. It took a lot to not groan and steal the baby blanket from the stroller to cover his face.

“Okay. Still a bit uncomfortable, but,” Michael said, shrugging. Alex nodded and stood up straight. Michael’s eyes followed him and tried not to have too much of a gay panic as he tucked his hair behind his ears and put his hands on his hips.

“I’ll do you a favor. You watch Liam and Emma,” Alex said, turning to spot her before pointing towards the swings, “The one in the overalls and really big bow. And I’ll go wrangle Kennedy for you.”

“You don’t have to,” Michael said, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted to do was seem more useless in front of this gorgeous fucking man.

“I don’t mind. Seriously,” Alex said, giving him a big smile and then turning to go find Kennedy.

Michael swallowed heavily and turned towards Fisher who was very distracted by watching all the bigger kids running around. Emma was swinging higher and higher and Michael very seriously hoped she had no intention to jump off. He didn’t think he could handle that responsibility. Liam, on the other hand, was nodding along to a song he was humming as he ate his gummies. Then there was Kennedy who was pouting while Alex crouched in front of her after pulling her off to the side, away from the other kids.

Michael watched as they seemed to have a conversation and Kennedy’s face was red with anger, tears already starting. Alex didn’t lose his cool or raise his voice or do anything that’d seem demanding and subsequently didn’t get sand to the face. Then Alex held out his hand which she stared at with that same pout before reluctantly shaking his hand. Alex laughed and then stood up, nodding over to Michael.

Kennedy kept her angry pout but stomped all the way back over to Michael while Alex followed.

“Fine,” she said sharply, “I’ll go home.”

Michael gave a relieved breath.

“Thank you,” Michael said to Alex.

“Don’t thank me, thank her, she’s the one who made the decision,” Alex said simply. Michael blinked and huffed a laugh before giving Kennedy his full attention.

“Thank you. I’m not trying to be mean, we just have to go home and start dinner,” Michael tried to explain. She didn’t stop pouting or uncross her arms, but she nodded and stomped over to stand by the stroller.

“Are your eyes okay enough to drive?” Alex asked when Michael stood. He was even more gorgeous when they were on the same level (physically, not mentally because Alex was a fucking child whisperer) and he regretted not being able to see whenever Alex had to leave over him to clean his eyes.

“Yeah, and I’ll go slow. Seriously, though, thanks. I barely know what I’m doing,” Michael admitted. Alex smiled warmly.

“It’s a hard job. Kids are a lot, but you just have to talk to them like they’re people. ‘Cause they are. And the longer you stay and the more you just talk to her like she’s a person and get her to understand why things are happening, the more Kennedy will like you. Seriously, Emma was the worst when I first started nannying for them. I think she Googled how to get rid of me or something because she did the classic running-off-the-nanny thing where she put a garden snake in my bed,” Alex laughed. Michael’s eyes widened and he was suddenly a little grateful Kennedy hadn’t gotten that far. “Wish I would’ve taken a picture when she saw me just pick it up and put it back outside. Anyway, listen, if you ever need something, you should call me.”

Michael watched in some sort of haze as Alex bent over to pluck a sharpie out of the baby bag and held out his hand. Michael gave him his arm and watched as he wrote out his number on his skin. He finally understood why people on TV didn’t want to wash their hands after someone famous touched them.

“Maybe we can have a playdate,” Alex said, capping the marker and looking at him with a mischievous little smirk, “With or without the kids.”

Michael blinked slowly. “You’d be down for that after watching me get sand kicked into my eyes?”

“Hey, you handled that like a champ,” Alex laughed. He had arguably the best smile Michael had ever seen. Which totally tracked because he was clearly an angel. No way anyone else would be this flawless.

“Okay, yeah, then I’ll call you.”

“Can’t wait,” Alex said, biting his lip slightly before turning to Kennedy and Fisher, “Bye, guys. See you later.”

Fisher waved back excitedly and Kenndey made an annoyed noise, but it was basically the same thing.

The fact that Michael had to make the entire drive home before putting Alex’s number in his phone was a special kind of torture.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #title tuesday

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darkeninganon · 4 years ago

Text

Hey, remember this post and this post? I went with the darker one and continued it. Have ghost Dream. Trigger warning: Implied death, trauma, implied torture, negative thoughts, and cursing.

Tommy stared, a mixture of horror and curiosity swimming through his mind. Standing in front of the community house was a green, very familiar figure.

"D... Dream?" The figure turned around, an all too familiar mask staring back at Tommy.

"Yeah?"

Tommy took a few steps back, heart racing as he laid eyes on his tormentor. His tormentor who was still supposed to be in prison, yet was standing in front of him and acting like nothing had happened. "wha-"

"Oh, uh... Who are you?" Dream's head tilted, staring blankly at Tommy. It was at this moment that Tommy actually got a good look at his old enemy. His skin was paler than normal, somewhat grey-green, his clothes were washed out as well, and he seemed to be... floating just centimeters off the ground.

"Hello~?"

Tommy jumped back as Dream's hand waved in front of his face. "Ah! Jesus! Just... Tommy. Tommy Innit. Does that ring any bells?"

Dream hummed, placing a hand on his chin before shaking his head. "nope. Can't say it does! Should it?"

Tommy was silent for a moment. "Well, yeah. We were friends." Tommy stated, placing his arms behind his back. "You, me, Tubbo, and Ranboo! We were all the best of friends!"

"Really?" Dream seemed to light up at this, seeming to float just a little more as his mood brightened.

"Yeah!" Tommy wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. "You've been missing for ages, man! We've been worried sick about you! You just vanish one day with no trace, and- let's walk and talk Dream, we need to go to Snowchester and tell Ranboo and Tubbo the good news!" Tommy turned, motioning Dream to follow. Dream did so, bouncing slightly as he followed. "Oh, they may seem a little... off when we see them. I mean, as I said, you've been gone for ages! And uh... looks like you lost you last cannon life-"

"My last cannon life?"

"Yeah. Not many people like you, me, and Tubbo. Us three only have one life left, unless you count Totems."

"What about Ranboo?"

"See, he's a bit... strange, so he still has all three cannon lives-"

"I lost three lives?!"

Tommy stopped, spinning around to face a panicked Dream. "Yeah. Look, just be glad you didn't get sent to the afterlife and-" Tommy stopped as he looked down. Right where Dream's shoes touched the prime path, the wood was bubbling and melting. "Uh, big man... You're melting the prime path."

Dream looked down, tensing at what he saw, His knees flew up to his chest as he floated there. "Sorry! It- I'll control it! I won't let it happen again! I promise! Please, I'm really-"

"Woah, calm down man! Why are you so worried? The prime path has had worse. We'll replace it later. It's no big deal." Tommy waved his hand, dismissing the minor damage.

Dream stayed silent for a moment, staring at Tommy from behind his mask. "You... You promise?"

"Yeah! Now come on! Tubbo and Ranboo are waiting for us at Snowchester." Tommy took off again, Dream following slowly behind.

Dream was still worried. He had damaged something. He had broken something. He was going to be punished for that. He was supposed to be punished for that. But... Not from Tommy... From someone else... Someone green? No, he liked green, it was his favorite color. Dream was lost in though and crashed into a stopped Tommy, instantly reeling back. "I'm sorry! I won't do that again! I-"

"Big man, calm yourself!" Tommy yelled, spinning around to face Dream. "We're here. Does this place ring any bells?"

"Tommy get back!"

Dream was confronted by and enchanted netherite axe. A memory of a similar axe slamming into him over and over again surfaced, along with a grin and a golden tooth. Dream reeled back, making himself as small as he could. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to run into him! I didn't mean to burn the path! I won't do it again! I promise! I'm sorry!" Dream was suddenly scooped up off the ground, a gentle shushing calming hims down.

"Relax! You just... Your mask Surprised Tubbo, that's all. Someone who... Who wore almost the exact same mask had tried to kill me and Tubbo... But... But we killed him in the end." Dream looked up, Tommy was staring down at him. Tommy had picked him up and was holding him... "Yeah, You, me, and Tubbo... We killed that bastard..."

Dream sniffled. "What about Ranboo?"

Tommy looked to the half enderman, who was shielding a small zombie piglin. "Well, uh, you see that little piglin? Ranboo stayed home to make sure no one on that guy's side came to kill him. That's Ranboo and Tubbo's son. His name is Michael." Tommy looked back down to Dream. "Does any of this ring any bells big man?"

Dream shook his head again. He didn't remember anything.

Tommy sighed. "It's... It's alright. I'm sure you'll remember eventually. Just... Maybe take the mask off?"

Dream shook his head again, digging his nails into the object. "Please... Please don't make me..."

"Alright! No worries bud, if you like it you can keep it" Tommy bit his lip, looking to Tubbo before glancing back down at the ghost in his hands. "We, uh, we'll do our best to remember it's our dear friend Dream, and not the monster from the past. Right guys?" Tommy grit his teeth, putting on a smile.

Tubbo nodded. "Tommy's right." The words even sounded forced to him. God he couldn't act to save his life. "Sorry if I pull out netherite on you, I'll try to contain myself."

Both boys looked to Ranboo, who was still glaring. "Bruh, that... no. I'm not doing this."

"Ranboo!"

"No Tubbo! That guy tries to kill you and now he gets to-"

"Come on Boo! You can do this!"

"Oh, I cannot even begin to explain how wrong you are. Literally. I can't. It's mag-hrmmm" Ranboo did his best to glare at himself before turning his glare back to Dream. Then Ranboo looked at Tommy.

The fucking puppy eyes.

Ranboo growled to himself, clenching his fist before speaking. "Look, Dream, you're not the only one with problems. I sleepwalk and apparently do things. It's weird and-"

"Did the guy with the gold tooth get you too?" Dream perked up, leaning forward. He hopped off Tommy's hand suddenly, growing back to his full size before ever hitting the floor. "He..." Dream looked to Tubbo, more accurately, the axe he still held; "He did something to me... I think he took my last cannon life."

Ranboo tilted his head. "The guy with the gold tooth? Who the hell is that?"

Dream shrugged.

"well, we can figure that out later." Tommy stepped in, looking between Dream and Ranboo. "right now, I think it's best if we let Dream rest! Man is... probably tired, right Dream?"

"I... guess... I'm not really sure."

Tommy waved him towards a room. "Well, might as well try and rest up! This has been super exciting for all of us! We got you back, you got us back, all is well that ends well, right boys!" Tommy cheered. Tubbo remained silent, glancing to Ranboo who refused to look anywhere but the floor.

"Well, good night then." Dream gave a weak wave to Tommy, nodding to Tubbo and Ranboo as he passed them, and went to a random room.

As soon as Dream was gone, all hell broke loose. "Tommy what the fuck?!"

#mcytg/t #mcyt g/t #Dream smp #DSMP #Ghost! Dream #My writing #I'm calling him Gream #Tubbo and Ranboo are angy #but also confused #they're just going with Tommy at this point #I kind of want to write more of this #Yes Ghost Dream is kind of like Ghostbur #And Alive Dream hates ghost Dream #Ghost Dream wears his emotions on his sleeves by accident #Ghost Dream has no self control #help the poor spook boy

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rainbowtransform · 4 years ago

Note

Anon who asked about Foolish here's the prompt. Foolish just has enough of the server and breaks Dream out of prison with Micheal. They take him, Michelle, Punz whose is their brother to another server. Foolish takes Purpled too cus he is not leaving the boy where Quackity can manipulate him. He also yells at Puffy telling her that when she remembers she has her own children and actually wants to be in their lives to come find them cus right now they're done being neglected by her.

:) all /rp

The note he’s left for his mother is simple: this is your choice.

He once asked, years ago when his powers were just coming in again (and that’s the problem with dealing yourself, if that you’ve got to wait for the little things) who she’d choose if it came down to between her family and her job.

“You,” she said, gently pulling Dream’s arms through his pajama shirt. “It will always be my family first.”

(But then, Foolish wants to protest, why did you leave for months on end? Why do you leave Niki alone? But he refrains. He loves his family, has a brother who is close to how he is, and two mothers who love him very much. His mothers are trying their best.)

But they’re not right this time. Foolish knows this and his mother has chosen her pathway. (He’ll miss her, he’ll admit. But his brother needs to be safe.)

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Purpled is a kid. He’s a kid who saw his home get blown up by TNT by Quackity, to try and build a nation that will eventually be torn down by its Own citizens. Foolish sends a calling card, and gives him coordinates. Asks him to take care of someone else.

Michael McChill is an amazingly energetic person, who has broken three blocks into the prison and is raring for more.

Michelle is hard to pull out of Puffy’s home. Puffy’s trying to keep her happy; but she’s not Michael. Michelle is not okay with staying inside and no other kids to play with.

Punz doesn’t answer, but Foolish keeps him in the back of his mind. If he ever gets back to him, Michael will be the one who deal with him.

But now, Foolish and Michael wait. They’re watching the prison. Foolish sees Quackity March in, all righteous air and chin high.

(Foolish sees him leave with blood on his clothes, cheery and waving goodbye.

Foolish sees red.)

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

They’re waiting at the cords when Foolish rides up, mindful of Dream in his arms. “He’s hurt.” He tells the teenager and Michelle. “But he’ll be okay.”

(There’s a brother who is most like him, laying on the floor of a prison cell crying.

There is a brother like him, who holds onto Foolish’s hands like a lifeline.)

They ride out further, away from the SMP and the blasting alarms. Sam’s lost his canon life and Foolish almost growls before he remembers the person still with him.

They go hundreds of blocks away. They Zig zag and sometimes Michael even steers his horse a different way to confuse others. Purpled is more lively the more they get away from the SMP and Michelle sniffles.

“It’ll be okay,” Foolish says quietly to her. “Papa’s… not good right now.”

Michelle nods, and keeps her eyes straight forward. She’s a brave girl, Foolish knows. Brought to the Overworld to be a friend, just to be trapped a second time without one. Foolish locks his pinkies with one of her own hooves. Michelle smiles and Foolish looks ahead.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Dream heals. Foolish coaxes him out of the house sometimes, let’s him stay outside for as long as he wants and takes him back in when it gets too loud or overwhelming.

When Dream doesn’t flinch at the tiniest movement anymore, Michelle sticks with them. She presses little kisses onto Dream’s forehead when he’s leaning down, and then kisses her fingers and pats them around his legs and arms.

“To keep you safe.” She says.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Purpled ends up rebuilding his UFO, looking up proudly at it and wiping sweat off his forehead. “I’m not going to go home just yet,” he tells them at dinner. “But I’m thinking of it soon.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Dream says “don’t get caught in the SMP. There’s a bunch of things you need there, right?”

Purpled shrugs. “My fuel’s just there. Nothing else really. I’ve got some bread and stuff that I can eat on my journey. It won’t take long. Probably two or three weeks at best.”

“Be careful. Quackity’s still looking.” Michael says, shrugging off a coat.

“It’s been like three months,” Purpled says, annoyed. “Really?”

Michael sits down next to Dream’s seat, nudges his arm away a little bit, and then takes a porkchop. “Two people he wanted to be with Las Nevadas, one of the strongest growing nations up and disappear with a prisoner and a daughter of Puffy’s? He’s probably going to be looking for a long time. It’s only the fact that we’re so far away and that we’d basically destroyed the way up here that we haven’t moved on yet.”

“We need to, though,” Foolish says. “The UFO can move right?”

“Yeah it just can’t go to space,” Purpled reassures. “And we’re moving?”

“We were waiting until Dream feels up to it, and healed enough. We shouldn’t be going far, but we’ve got to take down anything that even makes people think we lived here.”

Michael shrugs. “The Warden won’t rest easy either. Dream was his only prisoner, and he is ready to get him back at any cost. This isn’t your fault Dream, we’re not turning you back in, don’t even think about it.”

There’s a quiet moment before Michelle asks to be excused so she can go play outside.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

You whisper to FoolishGamers: we need to talk.

FoolishGamers whispers to you: no

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The trees look lovely today. Sometimes Foolish remembers he was a millennial younger and when his first family took him to the park, or whatever was considered a park back then.

Foolish is older now. He knows enough about what you must do in order to satisfy the voices in your head and how to help others. He almost lost his brother. A brother who holds more power than they can imagine together.

He watches Puffy walk out of the trees. Her hair is vibrant and colorful and Foolish remembers when he was younger and she used to live she used to let them braid it. But there’s only so much that memories can allow.

“Foolish, my son,” she says. “Will you please tell me what have you been doing.”

“I’ve been taking care of my family papa. You wouldn’t get it you abandoned Dream when he was in the prison.”

“He hurt children.”

“He did,” Foolish acknowledged. “He did. But he didn’t deserve torture. And he sure as hell didn’t deserve what the prison did.”

“It’s best for us if he goes back in.”

“I thought that you wanted to talk because you were going to apologize. But if you’re not going to wear down here you we all love you and we are your children. When you decide to love us back, when you understand why we had to do what we did. Then you can come and see us and you can stay with us.”

“Foolish,” she starts and he shakes his head.

“No. I’m not going to listen to anything anymore. I’m keeping my siblings safe. And I’m keeping Purpled safe because he does not deserve to be in Las Nevadas being manipulated by the man who let my death happened.”

And with that, he turns away.

#dreamwastaken #dream smp #Michael mcchill #foolish gamers #purpled #rain’s writing #asks #answering Asks with Writing #:)#heheheheheh #Captain puffy #c!captain puffy critical #c!dream positive

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bisexualcrowley · 4 years ago

Text

Dance with the Devil

Pairing: Lucifer (supernatural, ooc) x Fem! reader

Summary: Lucifer is being forced from the Winchesters captivity to the cage once again, so he and Y/n make the most of their last moments together

Content/warnings: Angst, forbidden love, mutual pining, songfic, kinda fluffy if you squint?

Word count: 1,342

“Hey, Luce” Y/n called softly as she paused in the doorway, offering a sad smile as the man she had grown so fond of looked up from his position in the devil’s trap. “I know they say never to dance with the devil, but why don’t you help a girl out and let me give it a try”

Lucifer looked broken in that moment, one leg curled up to his chest and the other stretched out in front of him as blue eyes fighting back tears stared up at his friend, but he mustered a weak smile before getting to his feet, confident exterior returning with the silent steps bringing him to the edge of the devil’s trap.

Taking his movement as a yes, Y/n pressed a button on her phone, Michael Buble’s “You don’t know me” echoing throughout the barren room as she slid the object into the pocket of her jeans and walked slowly to the edge of the circle.

You give your hand to me And then you say hello Lucifer offered a hand to her, eyes locked on Y/n’s as she paused at the edge of the trap, hesitating momentarily before taking the devil’s hand and being led into the circle.

And I can hardly speak My heart is beating so

No words were spoken between the pair as they swayed in time with the music, Y/n’s hand moving from Lucifer’s to hook her forearms around the back of Lucifer's neck, his own hands circling her waist and pausing on the small of her back before having a change of heart, and bringing them up to pull Y/n into an embrace.

And anyone can tell You think you know me well

Well, you don't know me

Y/n tucked her head against Lucifer’s neck, sighing contentedly as he shifted his head down to rest his chin on top of Y/n’s. The man trembled as he took a deep breath, trying to commit the scent of her shampoo to memory before he was sent back down to the pit.

No, you don't know the one Who dreams of you at night And longs to kiss your lips And longs to hold you tight

A hand stroked through Y/n’s hair, down her back

Oh, I'm just a friend That's all I've ever been 'Cause you don't know me

Y/n sniffled, shutting her eyes against the tears threatening to spill down her face.

For I never knew The art of making love Though my heart aches with love for you

The rough denim of Lucifer’s jacket rubbed against her skin, the contrast between it’s abrasive surface and the softness of his head again her’s bring the hunter a strange sense of comfort

Afraid and shy I let my chance to go by A chance that you might love me, too

The pair moved side to side ever so slightly, at this point barely dancing, more hugging while stepping in a circular pattern

You give your hand to me And then you say goodbye I watch you walk away Beside the lucky guy

They fit together so perfectly. Everything they had, everything they had become, it seemed miraculous to Y/n, and knowing they were about to lose it all in less than an hour broke her, unable to imagine a life without the man in front of her in it

You'll never never know The one who loves you so Well, you don't know me

Y/n fought against the doubt in her mind, knowing that she had already messed enough by falling in love with Satan himself, for allowing herself to get close, to be dancing with him right now. Then again, she thought, what’s one more little thing, after all that, and so she opened her mouth to speak

For I never knew The art of making love Though my heart aches with love for you

“Luce, I...” Y/n pulled her head away from it’s resting place on the man’s shoulder, moving to lock her own eyes onto his, a hand sliding onto his cheek as a sob escaped her lips. “Shhhh, darling, you don’t have to say it. I know. I do too.” He whispered, pressing one hand over top of Y/n’s on his face and his other coming up to wipe away the silent tears falling from his love’s eyes.

Afraid and shy I let my chance to go by A chance that you might love me too

Y/n’s breath shuddered as she inhaled quickly, rubbing her thumb over Lucifer’s. “Then you understand why we can’t, Lucifer, no matter how much we want it”

You give your hand to me And then you say goodbye “I know, darling, I know. I just... I wish you didn’t always have to do the right thing, wish we could have this, be happy, with none of the consequences” Lucifer squeezed Y/n’s hand, giving her a tight smile before pulling her into a crushing embrace again as they continued to sway to the music.

I watch you walk away Beside the lucky guy, oh

“Imagine if we could freeze time right now... If we could stay here in this moment, forever.” Lucifer whispered hoarsely, his arms wrapping around to pull the hunter impossibly closer. "I am... It’s beautiful” Y/n’s words came out as a choked sob, no longer able to hold back the tears which now flowed freely down her face, matching the ones trailing from the devil’s eyes.

You'll never know The one who loves you so You don't know me, hmm

“We’ll find a way to be together again, my love, I promise you that this isn’t the end” Lucifer didn’t believe his own words, but did know that he’d fight like hell to make it happen, and he buried his face against Y/n’s shoulder, stifling a sob into the fabric of her sweater.

You'll never know The one who loves you so Well, you don't know me

The song faded to an end, but neither body let go of the other, frozen in the crushing embrace long after their legs stopped moving. Minutes passed like seconds, the silence of the room enveloping the couple in what felt almost like peace for a time they didn’t know, and they only released each other when the click of footsteps moved from the entrance of the bunker towards the room Lucifer was held in. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to say anything as she stepped backwards out of the devil’s trap, tears brimming in her eyes once again as Lucifer shrugged his jacket off in silence. His eyes held more emotion than words could ever tell, staring adoringly at his love as he held his hand out, offering the jacket for her to take. Y/n’s face drew into a tight smile when she took the clothing, holding the rough denim to her chest with a silent sob. The footsteps drew closer, and Lucifer tilted his head towards the doorway, a sad smile mirroring the one on Y/n’s face as she nodded back at him, and with a final glance, she left the room, quickly walking through the halls and collapsing against a wall out of sight of Lucifer’s room.

A sob escaped her lips at the sound of Sam and Dean entering the space and she pressed her forearms to her ears in a desperate attempt to drown out the sounds of whatever hellish thing they had to do to send Lucifer back to the cage.

A shout echoed through the bunker, causing Y/n to wince and draw her knees to her chest, but was followed by silence, and she allowed her arms to drop from her head, drawing the denim jacket to her face once again. She knew the Winchesters would come looking for her, would send Cas to find her eventually, but at this moment in time Y/n couldn’t bear the thought of moving, and so there she stayed, crumpled on the ground of the bunker, clutching the fabric.

You'll never know The one who loves you so Well, you don't know me

#lucifer x reader #lucifer imagine #lucifer supernatural #supernatural lucifer #spn lucifer #spn lucifer x reader #angst #fluff #songfic #supernatural imagine #lucifer angst #lucifer fluff #michael buble #lucifer supernatural x reader #supernatural lucifer x reader #mark pellegrino

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iwantthedean · 4 years ago

Text

Ma’lak

Summary: Dean helps someone close to him lock away her demons. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 3130 Warnings: Canon divergence, implied smut, mental health issues, exorcism, angst. Square Filled: Late Night Call for @breakthezone Bingo (LOVE that I can tag now!) A/N: This was borne of a new thing I’m trying in trauma therapy. I hope you all can enjoy it, but please skip it if you think it might trigger you! This is a comfort for me, but I know it may not be that way for everyone. AKF/YANA. Huge thanks to @crispychrissy for making the ma’lak box GIF for me!! I appreciate it more than I can say! A/N2: You may see this again much later in a saga I’ve had running for several years now; that wasn’t how I started out with this in my head, but it quickly turned into that. Just putting that out there ;) If you think you know, shoot me a DM!

“I have an idea. Can you come get me?”

Dean was up and out of the bed in record time. “On my way. Stay there.”

As he pushed his feet into his boots, Dean’s mind raced. It was after midnight; he had been deep in thought about a recent case and hadn’t even realized he dozed off until the phone rang.

She had been on her own for months. Maybe even a year at this point? They talked at least once a month, but hadn’t seen each other since she left in the middle of the night — since Dean had let her go. Demons were dwelling within her and it took all of their strength and focus to keep them at bay. She had lashed out at all of them, more than once, and the last fight she and Dean had gotten into had almost come to blows; the thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

He put those memories and the bunker in his rearview mirror. A stop at the gas station put coffee in his hands and kept him going for the next few hours. Well, the coffee, and a couple rounds of Metallica’s best hits.

“Y/N?” he called after slamming the Impala’s door behind him. He walked carefully up to the isolated camper, catching that the door was slightly ajar. No lights were on and the place was deadly silent. He pulled the handgun from the back of his waistband and called for her again.

Still no answer. Carefully and silently opening the door, he aimed at the driver’s end of the camper, then back towards the bedroom — and right at Y/N.

“Fuck, Dean!” she hissed, pushing the gun away.

He rolled his eyes and clicked the safety before placing the gun on the counter. “You always leave your damn door open at all hours, Y/N/N? Any psycho would waltz in here and —”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dean. Oh, and check your phone every once in a while. I texted you and told you I’d leave the door open and the hideaway made up so you could crash when you got here. You know, so you wouldn’t wake me up.”

With an exhausted, ironic chuckle, Dean held out an arm and stepped closer to her, but then immediately stepped back. “How are you with physical contact these days?”

“Ha. The last time I had physical contact was the last time you and I had physical contact. I keep to myself. Safer that way.”

Y/N flipped on a dim light over the sink and pulled a plastic cup from the small cupboard, filling it with water. She motioned the cup toward Dean after she emptied it, but he shook his head. She shrugged and left the cup upside down in the sink. She offered coffee; that he took her up on.

As she moved about the camper, Dean now took notice of all the things the moonlight through the couple of windows hadn’t allowed him to see in the chaos of his entry.

Her thin-strapped, cotton nightgown hung to her curves and conjured up memories of his hands running over her curves, his lips on her bare skin — was it possible for her skin to be softer now than it had been before? Her hair was longer and, maybe because he was tired, but Dean was having a hard time not carding his hands through it and tugging just enough to pull a whimper from her perfect lips. He had expected those demons swimming within her being to make her harsher, worn out, tired. Maybe she was all of those things, but it didn’t show when he looked at her.

“Coffee’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She said, turning back to him from the small machine. “Dean? You okay?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just, you know — for hiding out for so long and keeping those demons maintained, you look — you look good, sweetheart.”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself.” Y/N smirked and hopped up to the counter. She looked down at her hands as her expression grew somber; sorrowful. “I know that a lot of things have happened, that we said a lot of things. I said a lot of things. This whole thing has been … it’s driven me to be a person I never wanted to be or thought I would be. I didn’t think about the consequences before I did it, I only thought about keeping everyone else safe.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess me of all people, I can’t fault you for that.”

One end of her mouth tugged up. “Have you forgiven me for all the things I said to you? For how far I let it go before I left?”

He stepped up to the counter, gently pressing himself between her knees. He caressed her face with his rough hands — her skin was softer than he remembered — and pressed the ghost of a kiss to her forehead.

“The only thing I’ll never be able to forgive is myself for letting you stay away for so long.”

Y/N’s head fell, as did her tears. Dean’s hands went to her shoulders, pulling her to him. The top of her head butted against his chest. His hands fell down her arms, his thumbs rubbing over her forearms; on her left arm, he felt the scar of The Mark, the thing that had pulled her out of life. Pushed her out. Whatever it was, she had been gone and he had missed her.

Dean cupped her face again, forcing her to face him. Her eyes were red from the tears, but still the same color he had always been able to drown in. Even the quickest of looks from Y/N had commanded his heart to skip a beat, and he had missed that feeling, too.

She sniffled. “I really missed you, Dean.”

“Missed you, sweetheart.”

The words were uttered against her lips, hanging in the air even as he pressed his lips to hers for the first time in too long a time. She whimpered, not the way he had imagined a couple of minutes ago, but in a way that told him she honestly had missed him as much as he had missed her. Maybe even more. The kiss quickly deepened under the pressure of the chemistry between them; the connection that had always been there. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his middle, holding tight and pulling herself against him as her tongue searched out his.

The urge to touch her hair became a need Dean couldn’t ignore. His fingers slid into her hair at the root before his hands formed fists and he gave the slightest pull. Her whimper this time was exactly what he had wished to hear when he was imagining the scenario earlier.

She gripped his jacket lapel again and used it to push him out of kissing reach. Her chest was heaving, one strap of her nightgown had fallen down one shoulder. Her eyes were wide, filled with both fear and lust.

“What if I hurt you?” she whispered.

“If this is how I die,” Dean replied, tucking his fingers under the strap and kissing the top her shoulder before replacing the strap, “then this is how I die.”

Y/N giggle and kissed his cheek. “Then take me back to bed, Dean. It’s been too long.”

Dean tossed off his jacket before lifting her from the counter. He kissed her soundly as he worked them toward her bed, thinking he couldn’t agree with her more.

Their activities still allowed for a few hours of sleep before they were back on the road toward the bunker. Dean had pressed Y/N for what she had in mind, but she wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t like it, but memories of past arguments that had pushed her away stopped Dean from giving in to his tendency to push the issue.

By the time they neared the bunker, the tension was radiating off Y/N like steam and smoke from an overheated engine. Dean pulled the Impala up to the front door and turned off the engine.

“You ready to talk to me about this?”

“Sam called me once since I’ve been gone. He was panicked.” She swallowed so hard, he could hear it. “When Michael was still possessing you, when you didn’t think you were going to be able to stop him, you went away for a while. To Donna’s cabin.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Is the box still here?”

“No. Jack’s soul was gone, we tried to put him in the box, Lucifer got to him. He blasted the box.”

She nodded. “But you could make another one? You know how.”

Dean drew in a breath and shook his head. “That box is not an option. All right? Me going into the ocean with Michael, that’s one thing. You spending eternity with these demons, with that Mark, is not.”

She licked her lips. “What if it was only the demons and the Mark? What if we could lock them away?”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“Are you going to help me make the box?”

He met her eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He pressed his lips into a thin line and reached for the door handle.

“C’mon. Let’s get inside. Sammy’ll want to see you.”

Sam was just as perplexed as Dean as to what her plan was. Y/N was only sharing bits and pieces with them, promising that when the box was done and she was sure the plan could be executed, she would tell them more.

Dean set to work right away. If there was something that was going to make this all go away, he wasn't going to be the one standing in the way of it. Y/N had promised him that if this worked, maybe they could put the whole thing behind them. She could come home and they could start new. He held on to that promise as he worked to complete the Ma’lak box.

The assignment she had for Sam was less physically exhausting, but still exhausting nonetheless. As far as Sam could find, there was nothing that would allow the Mark or even solely its effects from someone to be locked away for all of eternity.

“The Mark has to have a host.” Sam shrugged and pushed away the thick book in front fo him. “If there was an answer, Y/N/N, we would have found it when Dean had the thing. Before Amara, before — okay, well, a lot of things that you don’t need recounted.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. The difference, Sam, is that I didn’t take this. I — okay, you know how it happened, and I won’t recount that for you, either. Favor returned. My point is, if I didn’t ask for it, why do I have to keep it? Why couldn’t I force it out?”

Sam licked his lips. “I don’t think it works like that. And — and ‘force it out’? Listen, I want this to be over just as much as you and Dean do. I do. But I think you’re getting your hopes up about something that isn’t gonna work. I haven’t heard it from your mouth but I think I get where you’re going with this and I don’t think it’s gonna work. I don’t see how.”

Y/N looked around before taking the seat across from Sam and taking in a breath. She licked her lips and looked him in the eye.

“You still feel the demon blood in your soul sometimes,” Y/N stated. “You have dark moments, especially moments of anger, when you want to pull from that power. You want that darkness to take root and grow. You want it to be a part of you still.”

Sam stood from the table. “Stop it.”

Y/N stood, too. “I live with that darkness, multiplied by numbers we don’t comprehend, every day, Sam, and I keep it at bay. I’m that strong — strong enough to command this darkness out of me.”

His shoulder’s rolled back before he turned to her. “But how?”

Y/N’s hand raised, palm up, level with her waist. She curled her fingers up, and Sam felt his soul squeeze. He could breath, his heart rate increased only a few beats, but he could feel the last effects of the demon blood leaving his soul, his veins, his muscles. His whole being.

Black smoke started to appear between them, plumes shooting out in every directions. Sam’s brow furrowed, but Y/N’s face stayed calm and stoic. When he could feel no lingering drops in his system, Y/N still held the dark, polluted smoke between them, but pulled it closer to herself, until the smoke had disappeared into her body in much the same spot as it had been pulled from Sam’s body.

His jaw dropped. “How did you do that?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. One I day, I was in town to get groceries. There was a dark streak in this little boy and I thought about everything we’ve all been through, and I wished that I could take it away. I saw him again in the parking lot, and I had the thought again and that streak started to draw out of him, like I did with you. I’ve been working with it, strengthening the ability. I can take in small darknesses, like that one from that little boy, and pull it out later. But I’ve been letting them back out into the open. My own demons, the Darkness locked within The Mark? I can’t let those out into the open.”

“That’s why you need the box,” Sam surmised, “to lock them away.”

“I don’t know how else to do this,” she returned. “I can’t keep living like this. I finally had a family, and this bullshit took it away from me. I’m not going to take that laying down.”

Sam drew in a deep breath and gave a single nod. “Okay. Well, the lore isn’t going to help us. What else can I do?”

Y/N licked her lips. “If things go south — if I’m wrong about this — don’t let Dean came after me. Whether I’m alive or dead, you’ve got to keep him from coming after me. I don’t want him to come after me. No deals, no spells, nothing. This is my only option and if it doesn’t work …”

Sam stepped slowly towards her, remembering that sudden movements could sometimes trigger her. He reached his arms out, and Y/N accepted the hug he was offering.

Dean ran his hand over a warding on the box, brushing away some dust. He licked his lips and stood back.

“All right. I made the box. Now what?”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Sam, who gave her an encouraging nod. She told Dean about the little boy, about the dark pieces she had been pulling from people, and then from herself.

He raised his brow. “So, you want to exorcise yourself?”

“Essentially, yes,” Y/N answered quietly. “I know that it sounds crazy. I know that but if this is even potentially an option, I have to try it. If I don’t try this, or hell, if it doesn’t work, I don’t know how much longer … I just have to try.”

Dean’s eyes glassed over as he considered the part of the sentence she had left unsaid. “So, if this works, we get you back?”

Y/N shrugged. “As far as I can tell. I’ll be back to being me, anyway, and if you want me back, I’ll come back.”

“If,” Dean snorted. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“I need you to open the box. And to close it when I tell you.”

Sam nodded. “We can do that.”

“Okay.”

Latin words dribbled from her lips in the form of a whisper as she placed her hands on the front of her ribcage, fingers sprawled. She closed her eyes as she continued to say the words.

When the words stopped, Y/N opened her eyes and set her jaw. She moved her hands slowly forward, pulled plumes of black smoke from her body. Agonized screams and angry growling accompanied the smoking, growing louder the further her hands moved out in front of her. The brothers could see her struggling to stay with it, but neither of them moved for fear of hindering the process.

She gasped in relief when the last plume joined with the others and she pushed the thick, black smoke into the Ma’lak box. The screams grew louder; Sam covered his hands with his ears to ward away the screeching. Dean stood firm at the lid of the box though, waiting for Y/N’s signal.

“Now!”

Dean let the lid slam shut before he quickly latched the locks. As soon as the box was secure, he turned to Y/N where she was on her knees on the floor.

“Hey, c’mon, you’re all right,” he encouraged, pulling her into an embrace. “Y/N, look at me. Tell me what’s going on.”

She leaned into his shoulder. “They’re gone. They’re all gone.”

Dean took her left arm and checked; the Mark was still there. “Y/N …”

“I know,” she answered, pulling her arm away from his grip, “but The Darkness is not in here. If that box is opened, she’ll come back. In the meantime, it’s like — it’s like an abandoned house. As far as I can tell.”

Dean’s head fell back in relief as Y/N continued to lean on him while she regained her strength. Sam went for a glass of water, which seemed to help.

“So where do we drop the box?” Sam asked.

Y/N shook her head. “I don’t want to know. If I feel the pull, I don’t want to know where to go looking. You take it, make sure it’s secure, and drop it somewhere I won’t think to look.”

Sam and Dean both agreed, but they weren’t about to take the box anywhere until they knew for sure she was good. A quick call to Donna and Jody had the two sheriffs making plans to come get the box soon and drop it somewhere none of the three of them would know to look.

Dean picked Y/N up off the ground, kissing her temple before pressing his cheek to hers. He knew that she might be able to walk by now, but, after everything they had been through, he needed to take care of her for a while, for his own sake if not for hers.

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @emoryhemsworth @deansgirl215 @calaofnoldor @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles @sandlee44 @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @carryonwaywardkansas

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @jerkbitchidjitassbutt

#BTZ Bingo #dean winchester #dean #reader insert #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #late night call #ma'lak box #iwantthedeanupdates #iwantthedean's tag team #all my lovelies

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