#and i almost dropped my head and lost my faith | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myownwholewildworld · 4 months ago

Text

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 3

chapter 2 | series masterlist | main asterlist | chapter 4

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're at your wits' end with joel. so you have to do something about it.

warnings: 18+. nsfw. mdni. mention of sarah's death. probably absolute filth. some slapping. explicit smut with a plot. softdom!joel. biting. masturbation (m and f). finger sucking. unprotected piv. a bit of ass play. pet names (darling, sweetheart). sir kink. a slight breeding kink. some violence towards the end. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n. joel's and reader's pov.

a/n: buckle up, my friends. i apologise in advance, but this has been coming for the last two chapters lmao. who am i to deny them? no one. all interactions welcome! enjoy and thank you all for reading! <3

w/c: ~3k.

It had been a week since Joel almost lost his mind, and he still couldn’t comprehend what had possessed him to do such a thing. For a split second he had lost control of his own actions and gave in to his yearning. A yearning for human connection he did not know he had. The last few months had been living hell, to say the least.

Every time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, Joel could only see Sarah’s face. Her smile, her warm hugs, her giggles, her vivacity. And then, the light abandoning her eyes, her blank expression, her limp limbs as he would press her dearly against his chest. The desperation he felt then had still not deserted him. He had been a man of God because that was what his family had imparted him, but since Sarah’s death his faith was wavering. Why would God take her away from him? Sarah was an angel sent from above, she should have not suffered such demise. So, either God was a cruel entity, or an imaginary one.

That night Joel did not even attempt to get some rest so decided to do the first night shift instead. They were still at the same cave as it had proved to be a good spot to rest up and plan what their next steps would be. Tommy had suggested they checked out the quarantine zones the government had set up in big cities, but Joel was not so keen on the idea. In the last nine months since the outbreak, they had been witness to too many ungodly acts ― all committed by the living, not so many by the dead.

That was why they were in Ouachita National Forest, further north than what they were a few months ago. They were still debating whether they should head towards Kansas City, Chicago or remain in the wilderness. Although resources were scarcer, so were the clickers. They had not encountered too many people either, which, considering their past experiences, it was a good thing. No one could be trusted anymore.

Joel sat down on a tree stump by the entrance of the cave, rifle on hand. He had his worn-out, unbuttoned military jacket on as temperatures dropped considerably after sunset. The night was so quiet it felt eerie. He could not see anything when he looked up as the treetops fully covered the night sky. He assumed it would be a starry night, clear of clouds. He kept his mind occupied with made-up scenarios to avoid drifting away into Morpheus’ world.

Hours had gone by when Joel heard the slight twitch of a branch from behind him. He rapidly stood up, gripping the rifle with tension. When he turned around and saw you, he clicked his tongue with disdain.

You were too sleepy to pick up on his rude gesture. You stretched your back, which hurt like hell. You had tried to fashion some sort of cushioned bed with leaves and grass, but your makeshift bed was still hard as a rock.

“What time is it?”, you asked grumpily.

“Not sure, around four in the morning?”, he answered without looking at you while he sat back down.

“You have a wristwatch, don’t you know how to read the time?”, you said sneeringly to get some sort of reaction out of him.

“Huh, you’re so fucking funny I’d laugh if I could”, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “It’s broken”.

You looked at him in silence, as you had done many times in the last week. You didn’t understand how this man could kiss you like the world was ending and then, a second later, he would pretend you were nothing more than an annoying moth flying around him.

It infuriated you. He infuriated you.

He was there as if nothing had happened between the two of you, while you just woke up because of a very realistic dream. Or should you say a nightmare? Your body had some unreleased, built-up tension that was damn hard to ignore. You blamed Tommy for interrupting you ― had it not been for him, you might have known what it felt like to be under Joel. Or on top of him.

You shook your head, angry at yourself and at the man in front of you.

“Sure is, I bet they didn’t teach you how to read the time when you went to school, hmmm, when? Back in the 50s?”, you teased again.

He stood up, leaving the rifle on the ground, leaned against the stump.

“Seriously, what is your fucking problem?”, he growled, his fists tightly closed on his sides.

Finally ― a breakthrough.

“My problem?”, you chuckled. “You are my problem, Joel Miller. Are you telling me you have forgotten about what happened a week ago, huh?”, you ventured.

“What happened a week ago was a mistake, that is what it was. I don’t even know what kind of demon possessed me, because I wouldn’t even touch you with a ten-foot pole”, you could almost hear his teeth grinding against each other.

His words hurt you, but they made you even madder. Who did he think he was anyway?

“You are a fucking mistake. And what you say is complete bullshit. Do you think I have not noticed how you look at me when you believe I’m not paying attention? You pretend you are not interested, but you need a goddamn reality check if you really think so”, you snapped back, the palms of your hands tingling ― you wanted to punch him so bad.

“You are frigging delusional, darlin’. You are the only woman I have seen in the last few months, it’s not like I have much to choose from, do I? It was a desperate move, nothing else. Stop imagining things―”.

That was it. He had crossed a line. So you slapped him to shut him up. His rugged face turned ninety degrees with the force of your blow. His cheek reddened slightly.

And then you grabbed him by the neck of his flannel shirt, forcing down his face towards you so he would not have time to react. You were going to prove him who was right ― and it wasn’t him.

You kissed him, separating his lips with your tongue. You outlined his top teeth with the tip of your tongue and then he let you in. You would have smirked if you could. You mapped out his whole mouth with quick but insisting twirls, Joel following your lead. You helped him remove his jacket.

One of your hands was still holding onto his plaid shirt while the other travelled south. You could swear Joel had stopped breathing, but you distracted him by breaking the kiss and looking at him with intent. His lips were parted and wet with your spit, slightly red. You grazed the prominent bulge on his jeans with the palm of your hand, biting your bottom lip down when he heavily sighed with some relief before he trapped your mouth with his again.

You let go of the flannel shirt to work on the buckle of his belt, unfastening it with some difficulty. Joel groaned loudly when you pulled down from the brim of his jeans to bring them down just below his ass, giving you plenty of access. One of Joel’s hands darted to your neck, circling your throat with the span of his fingers and squeezing lightly. Not to the point where you couldn’t breathe, but to the point where it made the whole experience even more pleasurable.

You moaned while your hand trespassed the elastic of his underwear and dipped your fingers down. You grabbed his manhood, already hard and leaking from the tip. You smiled as your thumb rubbed the precum against his sensitive skin and then slowly started to pump him. You had not seen his cock yet, but judging by the girth of it, you were not to be disappointed. You put some pressure on his shaft before upping the rhythm of the pumps.

“Fuck it, fuck this”, Joel wailed as he broke off the kiss.

For a second, you thought he was going to push you away.

His mind was spinning like a Ferris wheel coming off its hinges. He was mad, utterly mad. He shouldn’t but wouldn’t stop. Not now when you had enticed him this far. His dick was pulsing in your hand, and he was panting like a thirsty dog which had not tasted water in days.

He grabbed your adventurous hand and forced you to take it out of his briefs. Then he pushed you towards a fallen tree nearby. Joel was right behind you, his manhood hard pressed against your ass as he bit your neck, then pecking it where he had marked you. He took off your shirt before you could complain. You wore no bra, so when the cold air touched your sensitive nipples, you sighed. Joel’s hands were resting on your hips, but both quickly moved upwards until they gently cupped both of your breasts. He massaged them with care while he left a path of kisses on the side of your neck.

Then his left hand ventured south at the same time he twirled your right nipple between his fingers. You whimpered audibly when he dunked two fingers in your wet slit. He traced you up and down, your knees trembling with delight. Your cunt was so soft with your own fluids that it felt like velvet. Joel wondered how it would taste if he flattened his tongue against the damp skin and fucked you with his tongue. He groaned at the thought, and instead he paid special attention to your clit with his dextrous fingers. Your back arched, your ass touching his bulge ― you unconsciously wiggled your hips to grind on his cock. Then he tested your entrance with one fingertip, circling it slowly, while your bottom lip was quivering.

“You want this?”, he said in a coarse voice.

You nodded.

“Speak up, sweetheart”, he demanded.

“Yes, please, sir”, you whispered.

You closed your eyes and suspired loudly when his ring finger got greedily engulfed by your dripping hole. He started slowly, then fingered you relentlessly with two digits, to the point where you had to grasp his wrist to steady yourself. He curved them towards the front of your insides, stroking the right spot. You couldn’t help but watch as his fingers disappeared between your soaked folds. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ before you let go and came violently on his fingers. But Joel gave you no truce, he carried on masturbating you until you orgasmed twice more in quick succession with tears in your eyes. Your cunt was gushing for him ― you could feel the trickle of your cum going down your inner thighs. Your knees bended and you almost fell to the floor, but Joel held you by your hips with the firm embrace of his right arm.

“Good girl”, he purred in your ear, offering you his wet left hand.

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist to hold it in place and sucked on his fingers with wanton need, his digits touching the back of your throat. You showed him explicitly what you would do to his throbbing dick if you had the chance. You licked him clean, tasting yourself on him.

Joel understood exactly what you were doing, feeling the tip of his cock touching his lower belly. He pushed down your trousers and underwear in one swift movement. Joel placed one hand on your back to make you go down on your knees. You kneeled on the ground, and he did so behind you. You put your hands down on the fallen trunk and looked over your shoulder for a minute. Joel had freed his dick, and he was holding it from the base. For a moment you wondered if it would fit, and you bit down your lip at the idea. You felt hypnotised by the sight, pondering how it would feel against your tongue, its glans pushing past your uvula, suffocating you.

“Lean forward for me, darlin’”, he muttered, and you happily obliged with dreamy eyes.

You rested your left cheek against the fallen log in between your hands, ass up in the air. You heard the rustling of leaves as Joel positioned himself right behind you. He placed his hands on your butt cheeks and cracked them open to have a peek. Joel groaned at such blissful picture. He could see your pussy literally throbbing for him, beckoning him like a siren a sailor. What a sight to see, he thought. With a pained huff, he let go of your buttocks and guided the tip of his dick to kiss your entrance. You hissed with pleasure. Finally, you thought. But he didn’t go in ― instead he trailed the tip of his cock along your slick cunt a few times.

“Joel, please, I beg―”.

“Shh”, he hummed at the exact time he went back down to your needy hole and pushed in his tip. Your flesh parted to make way. Your pussy was aching for him, burning to feel him inside. You have never felt this aroused in your life.

He took his sweet time, caressing your clit again as he went in inch by inch until his whole length was inside you. He stayed there for a long minute, letting you get used to him filling you up entirely. Your pussy choked his manhood at irregular intervals ― you just couldn’t control your own muscles anymore. It felt like heaven for both of you.

Then he moved back slowly, his shaft almost slipping out before he pushed back in with brute force. Joel freed your clit from his touch to grab your hips and started fucking you mercilessly. He found a devilish rhythm and you just went along with it. Both of your moans could be heard from yards away, as well as the squelching sounds coming from where you two connected ― luckily for you, Tommy slept like a log.

The roughness of the wood scratched the skin on your cheek, but you didn’t care. It felt too good. Your fingers clutched, trying to hold on to something as your body was being rocked by Joel’s thrusts, an orgasm creeping up on you. And then you came again, almost screaming into the dead of night, like you never came before. You could feel your whole cunt squeezing him uncontrollably, your clit burning with electricity. You felt extremely overstimulated, but you let Joel ride you to find his own release.

Joel’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head ― he had never felt this horny before. This damn woman ―you― was doing something to him, albeit he didn’t know what. He felt your inner walls tightened firmly around his cock and he almost lost it. Every time he locked eyes on where you two met, seeing his shiny dick pulling out of you, he thought you the most beautiful woman in the whole world.

His balls were so tense he feared he was going to spill his seed in you. But he found the last bit of sanity within him ― as much as he would love to claim you for himself, he couldn’t. And so, he pulled out just in time, lodging his shaft between your buttocks. He put his hands on each side of your ass to squeeze his manhood in the fold of your skin. He leaned forward, his chest against your back, to bite you between your shoulder blades before straightening himself again. Joel pumped himself a couple of times in between your buttocks and came on you abundantly. What a waste, you thought out of nowhere.

Both of you stayed in the same exact position for a hot minute, breathing heavily with effort. You were the first one to move, although your limbs felt like jelly. You grabbed some leaves and cleaned the cum off your lower back as Joel watched you avidly.

Joel stood up and pulled up his briefs and jeans, while his mind was racing with doubt. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have let it go this far. What was meant to be a lesson for you, ended up being a lesson for himself too. Concealing his concern, he offered a hand to help you get up. You gladly took it and proceeded to clothe yourself again, being fully conscious of Joel’s hungry gaze.

You smiled at him.

“That was fun―”.

“A mistake”, he cut you off before you could say anything else.

You were left speechless. What did he just say?

“Are you fucking shitting me right now, Joel?”, you shouted at him. “Because if you are joking, I swear to God I will―”, your anger was raising up fast.

“No, I ain’t joking, we shouldn’t have done this. You don’t understand, I’ll just get you k―”.

“JOEL!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs when you suddenly saw a man a few yards behind him.

Before Joel could grab the rifle, a gunshot was heard and impacted on Joel’s right shoulder. He fell to the ground in agony, and you hastened to kneel beside him. Blood was quickly soaking his flannel shirt.

“No, Joel, please―”, then you felt someone pulling your hair back and yelled in pain. “Let go of me, you jerk!”. It was a different man.

The first man who had shot at Joel came towards you. Joel tried to sit up to fight back, but the man with the gun hit him in the head with the grip of the weapon and Joel fell back down on the dirt.

He was not moving. Was he dead? No, he couldn’t be. You felt the bile rise up in your throat but managed to hold it.

“Joel, Joel―”, you said with tears running down your cheeks.

“Shut up, bitch”, said the second man before slapping you.

You fought them back with all you had, but in the end, they hit you in the head too, rendering you unconscious, and dragging you away.

194 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 1 year ago

Text

Shower: J.T x fem!reader

Request: from the prompt list: "for sparring to turn into sex "+ "I told you to be quiet" + "they're gonna catch us" with Jason.

@parkjammys I'm sorry in advance, I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but I just couldn;t fight the urge to play and twist those prompts a bit.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!

A/N: It's written in the Ego!verse and can be read as a next part to Growing up

***

„You got rusty” Jason smirked, while looking at Y/N’s workout simulation

„Well, I’ve been in a cast for almost two months thanks to your older brother.” She scoffed brushing hair off her forehead. As if she didn’t know it took a heavy toll on her physique. She was panting after a beginner level program and absolutely hated it. It was like a cheek.

“It was NOT my fault!” Dick objected overhearing the conversation

“That’s just some poor explanation, Y/N” Todd mocked, making her clench her fists. “And you are not going to get back to shape and get cleared for the field if you keep it so easy.”

“Why don’t you cut your girl some slack, Todd? Even if she’s not capable of kicking your ass she can always go full meta on you.“ Tim muttered from the corner, too busy to look their direction while punching a dummy, but still not dropping the opportunity to torment his older brother.

“Oh, I am fully capable of kicking his ass.” Y/N panted “Right here, right now.”

“Is that a dare?” Jason lifted the corner of his mouth, his eyes glistening predator-like, eyeing her like a prey.

“Are you chickening out?” she pouted and tilted her head “scared of a girl, Red Hood?”

“Aren’t you scared of getting humiliated in front of the whole family?” he retorted taking a step forward her

“Do you want me to go full Ego on you?” he mimicked his movement and at the moment they were just standing in front of each other, inches away, their bodies almost touching while the other members of the family stopped their own workouts and focused on watching.

“Wouldn’t you like that, princess.” He whispered leaning over her, his hot breath on her face “I got some many thoughts in my head….”

“Do you two need a room?” Dick’s voice chimed in and brought them both back to reality. It’s been a moment since they were intimate (once again, the stupid cast!) and all they needed was a spark to forget all the surroundings and get lost in each other. But the audience was definitely not needed and upon Grayson’s words they practically recoiled from each other.

“Yeah.” Jason scratched his neck awkwardly “give me a room to pin her down.”

“Wouldn’t you like that” she laughed and it made him blush a bit. Shit. He would like that, but not with his sibling around.

“If you’re so smart and bold why don’t you go at me without using your little mind games?” he hissed clenching his fist. Fuck, he wanted her and if he didn’t start blowing the steam off that very second it would start to show.

“Promise not to go easy on me, Todd?” she spun around taking a stance on the fighting mat, facing him with that arcane look. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Then it’s a deal.”

“Wait!” Stephanie yelled “I’m opening the bets! 10 bucks on Y/N!”

“10 bucks?!” Y/N scoffed “so little faith in me, Steph! That’s pretty offending!”

“That’s all I have, y/n/n/, don’t let me down.” The blonde blew a kiss her friends direction and grinned.

“Ready you two?” Grayson rubbed his hand acting like a judge on the ring “set. Go!”

Neither Jason nor Y/N moved in the slightest. They knew each other too well to take any sudden action, instead focusing on eyeing each other, calculating every gesture. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she took tiniest step forward and the real fight burst out.

Y/N took a slide and before Jason with his tank build realized what was happening she was behind him, punching his shoulder blades and making him fall forward a bit, but still not enough to cause him to fully loose the balance.

“Backstabbing, princess?” he smirked turning to face her and throwing a punch which she blocked easily, grabbing his arm and twisting it, causing him to groan.

“Go Y/N!” Steph yelled happily and that sudden exclaim distracted her giving Jason opportunity to put his other arm around her waist and lift her in the air.

“Let go off me!” she yelled, kicking her feet desperately, hoping to reach his knee or calf, which she knew were more sensitive and prone to injury than any other part of his body, but failed at that, instead ending up being held like a unruly kid, arms pinned to her sides. “Damn it!”

“Giving up already?”

“You wish!” Y/N was quick to come up with contingencies and not only because Steph was now literally biting her nails watching the scene unravelling in front of her eyes. Since it was impossible to use her hands, Y/N swung her legs in the way Dick taught her and not without effort wrapped them around Jason’s neck ending up on his shoulders, strangling him, cutting the air supply, waiting for the familiar patting on her thigh – sign of surrender.

“Aren’t you a bit too cocky, Ego?” he hissed, trying to throw her from his back, squeezing the ankle of her freshly healed leg making her yelp in pain and loosen the grip.

A mistake which made her end up on the floor, almost losing the battle.

“That hurt you bastard!” she cried out, real tears showing in her eyes.

“I’m not falling for that love” he went forth and in a blink of an eye pressed her to the wall. Their chest touching, moving up and down frantically due to the heavy breath. Was it just because of the fighting?”

“Jason….” she whined, trying to push him away.

“Don’t play dirty.” He whispered into her ear

“ME?” she faked innocence “you are clearly the one happy to have me so close, don’t you, baby?” AUCH!” the girl screamed when he pushed her even more into the wall, his eyes absolutely dark “your family is watching….”

Fuck.

He let go for just a second and it was enough for her to use that against him. In the end he was the one who ended up on the mattress, on his back with Y/N straddling his hips and hands on his chest pinning him down and …. Well…. Feeling something there.

“You think you won?”

“I…” she didn’t get to finish the sentence when he flipped her over, hovering over, his bodyweight not letting her to get up. “Fuck….” She muttered

“You?” Jason muttered, pressing his body closer to her, whispering in her ear, making her hot and needy and all red. “I can do that….”

“Could you please stop?” Damian muttered, rolling his eyes “why is it so hard to stay professional? It’s just freaking disgusting.”

“So, seems like I won.” Todd grinned, getting up, too proud of himself about making Y/N a flustered mess on the floor.

“I hate you, Todd.” She brushed off his hand which he offered to help her up. “You almost broke my leg again!”

“You know I would never do that. Not to you, Y/N. But Riddler’s goons wouldn’t have any seconds thoughts. You need to be ready for that. “ she turned away from him, angry “Hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around “don’t be mad at me, baby….. You know I can’t handle that.”

“Y/N!” Cass called from behind. She was the one who was watching the scene most carefully from all the siblings. Therefore she noticed the slight limp and bruising on Y/N’s ankle and had to make sure her friend was good to go “Leg?”

“I’m fine, Cass.” She sighed deeply “Sorry for making you lose the bet, Steph. Great job, Jason, congratulations, I guess.” She raised on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly.

Probably last thing he needed, since instead of making him calm down the fight with her, feeling her body underneath him while pinning her down did exactly the opposite. And the feeling of her soft lips on his face only fueled him more. He needed her. He wanted her. It’s been too long since he had her.

“You did well, Y/N” Dick patted her shoulder as he walked past him “I think we all had enough for today. Let’s just hit the showers.”

“Sure….”

Y/N moved towards the bathroom, adjacent to the training room. She knew Jason never meant to hurt her, but once he got into his Red Hood mode, he was oblivious to his own strength. And while fighting she was his opponent, not his girlfriend. And she wanted him to not go easy on her.

But still, it was painful and single unwanted tear flew down her cheek.

She wiped it off, angrily and slowly started taking off her sweaty workout clothes. But before any of them could actually hit the floor, she felt hands wrapping around her from behind and let out a gasp struggling against the grip.

“Sh!” one palm covered her mouth silencing her in an instance “it’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

“Jace!” she whispered-yelled turning around to face him “what the hell are you…..?” she cut off, her eyes widening and wandering all over him. He was naked. Absolutely naked. And absolutely horny. Ready for action and the sight of him being so hard for her made her let out a moan.

“see anything you like?” he smirked so full of himself.

“Jace….” She whined, wrapping arms around his neck immediately pulling him to a kiss, pressing herself close to him.

Of course, she wanted and needed him too. Maybe even more than he needed her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” he gasped, hands wondering all over her curves, not able to satiate of the feeling of her so close, being so vulnerable in his embrace, so submissive to his every action and movement "I missed you so bad, baby.” Those calloused palms dived under the hem of her sport bra, painfully slowly lifting it up, forcing her to put her arms up and let go of him for a moment. Too long moment for her liking as the second that piece of material was gone she clung to him like a magnet.

“Mmmm.” She whined, feeling his lips on her neck, nibbling softly on the sensitive skin and massaging her breasts, pinching slightly on the pebbled nipples.

“You gotta keep quiet baby.” He smirked, now playing with the hem of her panties, caressing so close to where she needed him “Thin walls. Do you want everyone to hear you?”

“Hmmm.” She muttered mockingly taking a step back entering into the shower cabin, getting rid of her panties herself, completely exposed and motioning for him to follow “Hear us, baby. You’re not exactly the quiet type either. Come get me….” The girl whispered turning the water on, the broad stream dampening her whole body and hair.

She was never hotter.

Those lust-blown eyes, slightly reddened cheeks, plump and kiss-swollen lips …. Her body was practically screaming to him, so ready for more. She was looking at him with that sexy, lustful, seductive expression. All for his taking. With one stride he was next to her, pressing her whole body to his. Closer, closer, closer. And yet still not close enough. Her soft and silky skin, her every curve, all for him and he was not going to oppose to that gift in front of him. Passion and love consumed them both, hot water and the fogged bathroom creating the steamy atmosphere only added to those feelings an fueled them.

“Baby…. Don’t stop, please, fuck, don’t stop” her hands found a way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling gently, pressing his head and mouth to her skin. “I want more.”

“Did I hurt you?” he suddenly pulled back looking into her eyes “is your leg all right?”

“It hurts….” She whined, pouting and reciprocating his gaze with the saddest, softest expression almost begging him to take care of her. In a very specific way.

“How can I make it better?” he whispered, heavily, resuming nibbling on her neck, causing another whine to slip past her lips.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing…. be … be soft with me today.” She begged “be gentle, baby…. It’s been so long, I forgot how you feel.”

“I’ll remind you. “

“How will you remind me?” she gasped when he bit on her collarbone, hickey already forming, her core throbbing and feeling so neglected, aching.

“I’ll kiss every part of your perfect body. I’ll make you feel so good baby. I’ll get you high. Let me.”

“Take me, Jace” she moaned clawing on his broad back, his muscles tensing and flexing due to her ministration “now. Please, baby, please, I need you. I need you so bad.” she almost cried, all the sensations overwhelming her.

“Are you sure? Like you said, it’s been a while. Can you really take it?”

“Yes, yes please…. please Jason, please, please.” Tears started falling down her cheeks, masked by the streams of water on her face and he was quick to kiss all that pain away, lips brushing over her jaw and neck, nose rubbing nose before he captured her lips again. She wanted him to be gentle and he was going to comply. Just showing her all the love he had, without words, purely by action.

“I missed this.” he whispered tracing a pattern up her inner thigh, causing her to spread her legs slightly “I missed being with you like this. Away from everyone, just us.”

“Mhmmm.” She shuddered when his fingers found their destination “Just us, baby. You and me. I’m all yours.”

“And I’m yours. Tell me how to please you princess. Tell me what you need. Tell me how you need. I want to know all your little fantasies.”

“No fantasies. Not today.” She shook her head “Not here. I want it simple. Just lift me and don’t let me slip.”

“I won’t” he promised quickly catching up what, how and where she needed, grabbing backs of her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her into the wall for support, one hand on her back, the other in her hair, massaging gently, tilting her head to get access to more of her skin.

“IT’S COLD!”she let out an involuntary scream taking them both by surprise.

“SH!!” he silenced her again “I told you to be quiet! They are gonna catch us!”

“Do you really think they haven’t realized you sneaked in here the second the training session was over? Please….” She rolled eyes “besides, do you really care? Come on, you have me in the palm of your hand, baby.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him, moving slightly up and down to create any friction and make him take some action. Much to her delight it got her a groan from the back of his throat and she shuddered at that sound “I’m quite the catch, don’t you think? And you can do what you wish with that” her seductive whisper In his ear seemed to finally spur him on.

“The best.” He responded pushing in. Fighting the urge to just go all in with one thrust, but remembering what she asked him for. And instantly getting the reminder when she writhed with some discomfort, nails digging into his back. He loved that sweet pain, but was still mindful that it indicated that she was pushing past her limits.

“I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, rubbing her back reassuringly, trying to help her relax.

“I know…” she hissed feeling him push another couple inches in “I told you, it’s been….. a moment since we ….. and …. Mmmm.” The slightest frown appeared on her face and her mouth hung open for a while whilst her body started getting a memo of how good it was to have Jason inside her. How perfectly aligned they were. “Jace…..” she gasped out, already wanting and needing more.

“I can stop if you want.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jason. We both know you can’t stop at this point. And I can take it. I promise, I can take it. I want you whole. In me. Now.” she arched her back, trying to take in more of his shaft .

“You have me. I….” he hesitated. Words were still hard, but he felt the urge to say them. To assure her, that what he felt was true and that he cared for her. “I love you baby. So fucking much.” His lips found hers once more and he bottomed out with one more push swallowing her scream as her pussy fluttered around his digits so deliciously. She was right, he didn’t really care about his family overhearing them going at it, damn, he was fucking proud and bragging about being the one to make her feel good enough to scream (suck that, Grayson). But that little sucker knew that forcing her to keep her mouth shut would result in her clawing on his back again. And he wanted that. She was all his. Her body, her mind, her soul, her screams and moans, her actions.

Everything.

Jason Todd was one selfish and possessive bastard.

But still caring.

“Jace…” she panted when he finally let her lips go, allowing her to take a breath. Not that she was capable of breathing while having him like this.

“You’re good? Can I…..?”

“Just…. Just a second….” She wriggled her hips, adjusting to the stretch, causing him to groan.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.” He warned, squeezing her butt cheek.

“Oh, I am being tormented here. Forced, used, attacked from behind, abused.” She mocked tearily “poor little me.”

“Forced, baby? Abused? I can’t really see you opposing very actively.”

“Just move you little shit.” She laughed lightly, patting on his shoulder, urging him to start thrusting. And he did. Slowly, carefully. It was easy to get lost in her, but this time he was not going to rush that intimacy. They had all the time in the world. Eternity to worship each other. The external world might as well stop existing and explode and they would be perfectly happy just moving in that sensual, intimate pace, holding onto each other. Living in the bubble they created from their passion and love.

“I….” she whined, throwing her head back, resting it on the tiles and feeling the fire forming in her belly. At this point, her body was on fire and she didn’t care whether the wall was cold or not “I missed this too, Jason. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know….” he mumbled using the opportunity to kiss the exposed column of her throat moving towards her nipples, swirling his tongue around them, licking all the water droplets gathered there making her moan loudly “I’m fucking perfect for you.”

“Jace…..” she started moving against him, chasing her own high. She never knew that slow, soft loving could be so much better and more fulfilling than the rough, fast pace he usually set

“Hm?”

“Please…..”

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop loving me…. Just…. don’t …. ” shit, she was so close.

“I could never, baby. Just want to make you feel good.” He took a step forward, pressing her further into the wall and adjusting the grip on her back, making sure she would not slip.

“You are, but …. More. Please. Please, baby, please, oh, god” he didn’t pick up the pace but started moving harder on her almost making her snap “yes…yes, Jace, yes, baby.” She was no so loud there was not a chance those sounds didn’t echo through the whole manor. Most probably reaching not only the youngest but Alfred and Bruce as well.

Oh, well, that’s really (not) a shame.

“I thought I told you to be quiet, princess?”

“Fuck! Fuck! I don’t care! AH! Jason! Jace, baby, yes! Yes! Fuck! Please! God, baby, don’t …. So close…. Mmmm…”

“You’re gonna come for me, baby? Right now? Can you be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“JA…..” he didn’t give her even the slightest chance to scream his whole name, pressing his mouth on her swallowing the other part of it, feeling her body shudder and shake in his arms.

She was so fragile, so vulnerable, so sensitive and so overstimulated that even when he himself came, she was still clinging onto him. Not wanting to let go. Wanting him to stay, to hold her like that, to shower (pun intended) her with aftercare, attention, affection. She just needed him close. Not in a physical way, but emotional. And if he were to pull out and get out of this freaking bathroom, out in the world, forced to face it, she would lose that part of him. She wasn’t ready to let go of her emotional Jason. Not yet.

“Stay.” She begged looking straight into his eyes. “Please, stay.”

“Baby….” He kissed her forehead, slowly dropping her to her feet, hands secured on her waist, making sure her shaky legs wouldn’t give up on her, holding her close.

“I don’t want to go there….”

“Now you scared they heard?”

“It’s not that… I…. I need you.Not the one you are with your siblings. The you¸ you are only for me” she brushed her lips over his slowly, gently “please…”

“I know. And I’m not leaving you. How could I?” he pecked her lips “but we can’t stay here forever.”

“Why?” she whined, hiding face in his chest and massaging his back “It’s nice and warm and spacious….”

“Don’t you think someone will take interest in why the water in this particular shower keeps running for hours non-stop?”

“hours, huh?” she smirked, licking her lips. She was so damn ready for round two.

“I bet it would be Alfred. Do you really want that?”

“No.” she looked down, suddenly ashamed by the thought of the family butler being a witness to their workout and forcing them out alongside with making them clean the bathroom of everything they may leave behind.

Jason kissed her temple briefly and reached behind him to grab a towel and wrap her in it, slowly helping her dry herself, smile never leaving his lips. She was looking so tiny and adorable like this. In her post-coital bliss. He wanted to remember that relaxed, peaceful look on her beautiful face.

Only when they both were dressed properly and somewhat presentable they dared to take a peek through the door, making sure no one was around. As fast as lighting and as quiet as the mouses they rushed to Y/N’s room, ready for cuddling and a movie marathon, but much to their surprise they had an unwanted guest waiting for them there.

‘You are both disgusting.” Damian hissed

“And you are here cause you wanted to say it to our faces?”

“Yes. Just letting you know. Oh, and… Y/N. You should know you actually made Steph win a bet.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, brows furrowing

“There was another. Between Brown and Grayson. She bet we would hear you. Grayson had more faith in your self-control. And he’s angry about losing. Good luck talking to him about it.”

“Oh, damn it….” Y/N whined, hiding face in hands, turning red.

“What was it that you said when I told you they are going to hear?” Jason tapped his chin “oh, right, I don’t care. Well, don’t you now?”

1K notes · View notes

minkkumaz · 1 year ago

Text

KISSING IN CARS

you thought breaking up with felix was the hardest thing you've ever done. what was even harder was thinking about a future without him. but second chances won't leave you alone.

PIERCE THE VEIL series

PAIRING lee felix x gn!reader WC 1.3k TAGS exes to lovers trope. mutual pining. angst. fluff. right person wrong time, until it's the right time again. kissing. OMI NOTE this is my first time writing for felix and i'm quivering in my boots idk however i hope that it pleases the audience.

the stupid lego venom keychain that was deserted on your marble countertops was a constant reminder that felix was no longer yours. everything about him was right, but you both were too young, and he had such a gorgeous world in store for him.

reminiscing about waking up next to him in the morning came often. it was the first time you had properly seen love in front of you. tracing the freckles littered on his face, waiting for the deep brown of his eyes to welcome you in the morning.

he was beautiful, so fucking beautiful. each strand of hair falling perfectly against his fair skin, tickling your face whenever you got too close. the feeling of his breath against your lips, warning you before he would close the gap.

then, you thought there was faith in your love. you both were equally as hopeful that things would work out. but when it didn’t, it only made you more aware that while he was the best person for you, it wasn’t the right time.

cards never played out in your favor, hence why you still sat with a broken heart months, almost a year later.

moving on was proved impossible when his face was plastered on every billboard imaginable. the fond smile he never lost as he stood amongst seven other men. you’d be lying if you said that some of his songs weren’t on loop for you, it made everything seem so much more real.

it wasn’t much of therapy, but more or less a desperate plea to not forget about him or his voice. but how could you?

their discography played from your cheap earbuds as you left the house for the first time in maybe a week. your fridge was seemingly getting emptier and emptier, so you figured it was about time you went grocery shopping.

the sound of your shoes against the concrete echoed around you. you took a quick walk down to the parking structure of your apartment building, drowning out any other noise. when your car finally came into view, there was a familiar one parked right next to you.

at first, you didn’t give it much thought. maybe one of your neighbors invested in a new vehicle, probably to impress their significant others.

yet when you walked closer, you saw a blonde headed boy pulling the keys out of the ignition. everything froze for a moment, enabling you to drop your bag on the floor in shock.

he heard the noise, looking behind himself to see where it was coming from. when he saw you in all your glory, visibly shaken up from him being there, his expression softened.

you pinched your arm in the middle of all of this, unable to believe that this was real. but it was, and felix was opening his car door to come see you for the first time since the break up.

“hi, y/n.” he greeted you breathlessly, moving to be face to face with you.

“felix.. what are you doing here i–” your words were interrupted by a hug, the scent of warm floral englufing you.

“i’m going to be in town for the next month for so, and i had to see you.” he told you.

“i don’t understand, i thought i was never going to see you again. we broke up, don’t you remember?” you stutter out.

“how could i forget one of the hardest days of my life? i just want to talk for a bit if.. that’s okay with you.”

“of course felix. but– i don’t think a parking structure is the greatest place to talk.” your lips pull into a slight smile to shield the ache in your heart. you missed him, a lot.

“let’s go to our spot then.”

music played out the windows of a car you remember taking the longest drives in. the ride was barely awkward for the short time it lasted. it felt like you were dancing on clouds in the comfort of his presence. it was something that you valued about him so much, his ability to make anyone feel relaxed by just being there.

every song was something that reminded you of your past relationship with him. all of it was too similar to the past, and part of it scared you. would it be selfish to think that you were running through his mind as well?

the car pulled into a secluded parking lot, shadowed by large trees. there was a long river ahead of you, the sunset glistening across the waters. he always took you to this place when you needed to forget about your troubles.

“i haven’t been to this place in forever, reminds me so much of us.” he mentioned, letting his hand hang out of the window.

“would you believe me if i said that i didn’t come here every day after we split?” you mumble under your breath.

“it always helped get stress off of your mind, i wouldn’t blame you at all.” he laughs lightheartedly, “but i kinda wanted to talk to you about that.”

“about what?”

“about us. i never stopped thinking about you if i’m going to be honest.” he confessed to you.

“not once..?” you asked hesitantly.

“it was impossible, the idea of a second chance wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“you can’t say that to me, felix. it makes it so much harder to get over you. our future together was just a few heartbeats away from disaster.”

“but i don’t want you to, y/n. my schedule has gotten so much more manageable, and i feel like now i’m in a place to give you the love that you deserve.” he looks over to you, resting his hand on top of yours delicately.

“felix, we can’t. you’re too young to be stressing about–”

“there’s no such thing as too young, i had to scream it at the top of my lungs to realize that.” he pleaded with you, “i’m afraid that i threw you away too fast, without even trying to make it work.”

“you’re crazy, sun.” you sigh, letting your fingers intertwine with his and squeezing lightly.

“you haven’t called me sun since we were together.” he smiles bright enough to light up the vehicle.

“maybe i had a hard time letting go as well.”

the sun barely peaked over the horizon, but for what it was, it gingerly highlighted him. he still looked like he had something more to tell you, lips mouthing nothing in particular.

felix leans over the center console to capture a fallen piece of hair, blending it into the rest in an attempt to get his hand on the side of your face. his cold fingertips rested on your neck, with one other finger on your cheek and another on your chin.

you let him hold your face for awhile, basking in the temperature rise to an unbearable heat. he truly was so similar to the sun.

“can i kiss you? please?” he asks gently, scared of making you uncomfortable.

all you respond with is a slight nod, too caught up to use your words. it wasn’t long before his face was mere centimeters from yours, looking up to your eyes, then your lips. and finally, the gap closed to trap you in a kiss that you haven’t felt in awhile.

one of your hands tremble in his, scared that this won’t last forever. scared that he’ll leave again and things won’t work out.

but the way he deepened the kiss made all these worries subside for a little while. it was romantic, and made you feel whole again. red and orange hues from the sunset flashed through the the wind shield. not once did he pull away, scared of losing you in the midst of it all.

you tapped lightly on his adams apple, desperate for some kind of air. when he removed his lips from yours, you recollected yourself.

he looked worried, lips sore and wet from trying to swallow you whole, but you gave him a reassuring smile.

“damn, you kind of took my breath away.” you giggle in between breaths.

“i just didn’t want to let you go.”

“you have me now, felix. we’ll make this work.”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz !

PIERCE THE VEIL series

513 notes · View notes

sweetredbeans · 5 months ago

Text

i still fall for you (like suns do for skies)

My piece for @sthbigbang! It was delightful to work with such talented artists as @encodedkismet, @spiritofrainbursts and @superemeralds! Links to their gorgeous art pieces are at the end of the story! (Yes I will be finishing updating everyone's links as stuff gets posted!)

Comet: definition: a celestial object consisting of a nucleus of ice and dust and, when near the sun, a “tail” of gas and dust particles pointing away from the sun.

Star: definition: a fixed luminous point in the night sky which is a large, remote incandescent body like the sun.

...

He should have known. Dammit, he should have known, from that very first moment, that very first instant in time that he saw him, how it would end.

The way it always had to, the way it always would.

It would end the same way that it began.

I push my feet

To the edge

I look and I face my world

This lonely scene, I take it in

It's hard to say where all of it begins

And I end

Sonic was a comet. A block of ice hurtling through mostly empty space, originating from somewhere beyond the reaches of imagination and flying at unimaginable speeds towards nothing, forever.

That was how it had always been.

True, he would admit that from time to time he had some satellites–Tails, the golden fox twisting and turning like a spark across his endless skies, a shooting star that couldn’t possibly exist in the depths of space and yet he did–unique and impossible. Amy, a burst of violet and rose on the distant horizon, the creation of a new galaxy that called to him, promising a life, a future of stability and tranquility that his chaotic flight would never be able to enjoy. Knuckles, a strong, steadfast planet wandering his own universe and finding his own way in the distant parallel.

None of them could ever keep up. None of them could fully thaw his frozen heart, melt him to his icy core, race him to the edge of the universe in perfect stride, step for step, beat for beat. He was the Blue Blur, the Cerulean Phantom, running solo, free and alone, forever and ever, his only true companions the feeling of the earth beneath the soles of his feet, and the glitter of stars in the endless expanse over his head. He was part of the world, and the world was part of him, and everyone else was just a blip, a splash of color whipping by at speeds that no one else could even comprehend.

In his own orbit, he was alone. A solitary glitter of life sprinkled across an empty universe. And that's how it had always been.

And I waited for the sky to change

But, oh, it never did

And I almost dropped my head

And lost my faith

At least outsmarting GUN had been fun, a quick distraction from the monotony. That's how these things went every time: each adventure was a grand new opportunity that always fell short. Nothing could ever truly challenge his abilities. Leaping off a helicopter, skateboarding down city streets, even fighting that mech—it was all so basic that it barely left his heart pumping, barely made his blood flow through his veins. But it was all that he had, when the rest of the world very often felt so dull and lifeless.

Sonic scuffed the sole of his red shoe on the ground, listening to the way the specialized rubber scraped against the asphalt, before glancing up. The night was hidden here, among the great gray and brown-clad buildings stretching into the skies, their marching rows of rectangular fluorescent lights the only stars that were visible. Never changing, powered from dawn to dusk and round again—no twinkle to them unless Sonic tilted his head back and forth, letting the shadows and walls take one light or another from him. He was the only one who could make a change to his world.

Then I saw you from a distance

You were worlds away

Oh, but you had me from the vision

I never looked away

Again

Then. Then, there was someone there. Someone else.

Someone new.

A galaxy.

A star.

A sun.

It didn't matter that the true stars were obscured: Sonic could see them all, every one of them, here reflected in front of him in oil-dark, ink-black fur. Here was an emptiness, a lack of matter, a black hole straight into space ignoring all laws of physics and reality because he just could. And that red—streaks of blood, of life, flowing through his space, glinting ruby-bright eyes that wouldn't look at him: chaos he wanted this stellar being to look at him. Wanted to be broken apart, cracked open, the glittering inside pieces laid bare streaming behind him worth it to taste the heat of the sun. And this was his sun.

His star was saying words, but Sonic's ears didn't process them, his mind far too preoccupied. Stars didn't speak—they sang, songs so old and distant that no one living could understand the words. His star was singing too, and perhaps, possibly, if he concentrated, if he focused, maybe he could grasp a single thread of that tune, hold it tight forever in his heart, know it intimately until one day he could understand the meaning behind the melody. The truth behind the tune. The soul behind the song.

Only a flash of green, bright and distracting, so very much of this world and none other brought him out of his dream and back into the present moment, “That's the...chaos emerald!”

No...no...his dreams were nothing more than pleasant distracting fantasies. This was no sun, no star. Just a fake hedgehog, another threat to the world, to their way of life, and, of course, it was Sonic's job to stop him.

It would be so easy, of course. Too easy, always too easy. Sonic almost sighed; just another routine, another set of hoops to jump through to avoid whatever shenanigans the world was trying to draw him into, be it from GUN or Eggman or this strange new hedgehog brandishing the chaos emerald like he was someone worthy of its power.

He could be...a star was worthy of that power. A great ball of plasma containing the ability to spring new life into existence, or the ability to destroy the very fabric of reality—perhaps this hedgehog was a star, after all. Chaos, Sonic longed for a star, a fixed point to return home to on his long travels, a spot where he was always welcomed, always loved...

But no, no he was a comet, that was how it was, and he didn't know where such thoughts of being in orbit were coming from. He was free, he was alone, and yet there was somehow no way that he could ever look away and escape from this brilliant crimson glow ever again.

“Now I know what's going on! The military has mistaken me for the likes of you!” How could they have mistaken him, a dim, distant block of ice, for this radiant point of light?

His star looked at him, with eyes the color of blood, of lava, of the heartbeat of the earth itself, and Sonic willed himself not to care, not to crumble, not to prostrate himself before a god of the very universe itself.

“So...where do you think you're going with that emerald?” Nothing. No response, no liquid song voice; he needed to hear it, he needed to understand! “Say something! You fake hedgehog!”

He did. He sang, “Chaos control!”

And Sonic's heart soared.

...

He was fast.

He was as fast as Sonic—even if it was just that he was using the chaos emerald to warp, Sonic couldn't remember the last time he'd fought someone who dodged him that quickly on the first attack. Who looked back at him like that, with a smirk that knew it was superior. He could feel the energy radiating from his doppelganger now that they were fighting, a perfect resonance to his own—gravity rippling the fabric of spacetime itself, pulling him closer, tugging him into orbit around nothing less than a giant. Staring into the beauty that would rip him apart and leave him as nothing more than a streak of light across a distant sky.

Sonic felt the world get emptier when the other hedgehog vanished, leaving him alone again to once again face G.U.N.'s paltry wrath.

Shadow. The world's ultimate life form.

His star.

I still fall for you

Like suns do for skies

Cerulean

Pouring in from your eyes

“Pffft, no, what are you talking about, I'm not in love with Shadow! I mean, c'mon that's crazy, right? Cuz, I mean, we just met anyways—nobody here even ever saw him before he showed up to steal that chaos emerald the other day while pretending to be me! The fact that we keep running into each other is just coincidence: of course we'd meet on Prison Island, since he was there to steal stuff for Egghead and I was there to fix stuff and it's only natural that we'd fight and then he'd run away after I totally beat him, and I definitely didn't think about running after him to see where he was going and follow him because I never want him out of my sight again, nah that'd be crazy, right? Hahahahah yeah it totally would...just like it's crazy to think about how beautiful the stars would be reflected in his eyes...red shouldn't be the color of space; space is black, right? Red's a color out of space—but he's a star, of course he'd be a red giant. All the best stars are red giants, aren't they? Betelgeuse, Aldebaran, Antares, Arcturus...so maybe it makes sense. But, y'know I'm totally not obsessed with him or thinking about what star he'd be or anything...”

“Uhhhh...Sonic?” Tails' voice cut through Sonic's rambling and the blue hedgehog immediately stopped, his hands frozen where they had been gesturing wildly to the empty air.

“...yeah?”

The yellow fox gave a sideways glance at Amy and Knuckles, who were both staring too, mouths slightly ajar, “I, uh...I don't think anyone asked that. We just wanted to know where to go next.”

A short beat of silence before Sonic cleared his throat.

“Oh, yeah, heheheh, that makes sense,” the blue hedgehog made an expression that could be a grimace or a grin, as he ran his hand nervously through his quills before glancing up at the skies above him, “Well...space, I think. That's where...that's where they'd be. That's where Shadow belongs.”

That's where all stars belonged.

Just a hollow moon that you colorized

So powerful

I feel so small

But so alive

Like watching the Earthrise

He'd never tried to harness chaos energy before—not like this. But he knew how Shadow's energy felt when they'd clashed—he'd memorized the fluctuations, the rhythm and beat of his rival's existence resonating with his every breath. So here, in the tiny space capsule falling towards his imminent death, he closed his eyes and remembered it.

He remembered how to be a star.

And somehow it worked.

“You never cease to surprise me, blue hedgehog. I thought that capsule you were in exploded in space.” His star. His star, not even attacking him now, not lashing out at him but merely here, walking beside him. If they both reached their hands out, they could link their pinkie fingers together, an unspoken promise, a silent bond. Sonic felt his heart stutter, but kept his voice nonchalant.

“You know, what can I say...I die hard!” But he could tell the truth; he couldn't lie to his star, couldn't hesitate to tell him, “You actually saved me, you know.” The golden gem gleamed in his hand, its energy a paltry reflection of its true cousins, but still vibrant in its own right.

“It was a chaos emerald, wasn't it? But there's no way you could have activated chaos control using an emerald that's fake!”

Of course he couldn't. It was against the laws of this universe, completely out of the realm of possibility, but for his star, he would do it again and again. For his star, he would reach through the bowels of a black hole to another universe and bring back the haunted dust of a million galaxies if he only asked.

The corridor walls blurred together: somehow, they were running. Neither of them knew when they had started, but they were—they had to be, it was in their nature. They couldn't stand still, neither of them, they had to run, had to feel the world moving around them.

“So there's more to you than just looking like me. What are you anyway?”

A comet. Your comet.

But he couldn't say that. He could never tell, “What you see is what you get! Just a guy that loves adventure. I'm Sonic the Hedgehog!” It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

“I see. But you know, I can't let you live.” Of course he couldn't. Suns didn't let comets live. Comets came to bask in their glow...and died in their arms.

They said that we both were too different

That all of the shine would fade away

But I wish that I never listened

'Cause you pulled me through the grey

Sonic didn't care what Tails had said; he didn't need to heed the yellow fox's warning. He'd never felt like this before. Not with anyone.

They were perfectly in sync. Golden fur glowing, liquid ruby eyes shining, power thrumming through their hearts and blood, they were both suns. Even if one was only a reflection of the other, who could tell when they were so close, so bright that it hurt to look at them. They were truly stars now, a perfect binary in orbit around each other, balanced in exquisite harmony. Every nonexistent breath of nonexistent air matched, every motion was coordinated like they'd been fighting in tandem for years, decades, centuries. Time was immaterial, because they were made of the fabric of the universe. They were never ending, a perfect dance, a perfect song flowing through Sonic's heart. Despite the severity of the situation he never wanted it to end.

They were perfect.

They were partners.

And for the first time...Sonic felt like he could see the world in color. He could see the beauty of the universe painted across the vault of heaven before him. He could see the reasons that people had for living, not just existing but living...he had seen colors before, the splashes of his friends across his oblivion of endless obsidian skies, but they had come and gone, faded before he'd even noticed them.

This was different—this was a reshaping of the very fundamental building blocks of his world. This was color in the way that the first daffodil of spring is, the ripple of a fish in a pond, the streak of a meteor, the flaming foliage of early autumn.

This was life.

I still fall for you

Like suns do for skies

Cerulean

Pouring in from your eyes

Just a hollow moon that you colorized

So powerful

I feel so small

But so alive

He saw Shadow's decision reflected in his eyes, painted across every inch of sky and stars. He could feel the pull of energy, his partner's wavelength out of sync now, his frequency decreasing.

“Shadow! Shadow!!!!”

His entire universe turned to look at him, and he felt the core of his being shake at the expression in his eyes. The resignation to an end far too early.

“I have to make them happy.”

“But...” Sonic bit back his response, What about making ME happy...he knew what the answer would be. He always knew what the answer would be.

And then there was no more time “CHAOS CONTROL”.

The energy he'd felt vibrating in his soul since the first moment he'd seen Shadow snapped, springing back on him as he left and Shadow...didn't. Separated, broken apart, the comet flung from the orbit of the star by a collision with a force that neither of them could have predicted and tossed away towards...towards...

Sonic couldn't look away. He couldn't.

I walk these streets of loneliness

A tranquil sea on all horizons

This empty scene of might-have-beens

I stare at starless skies

That call to me and I still wish

He could see it.

Their future.

Their “might-have-beens.”

(I still wish)

He could see himself alone. Forever. The world slowly falling back into gray as he watched the never-ending stars shift around an empty planet.

There were sunflowers here. A forest of them, bobbing their golden heads against cerulean skies, mimicking in their own way the world itself. Sonic was shorter than them, their stems stretching far above his head as he walked the endless forest of them, searching for something he'd lost and would never find again.

A shape, a figure, a shadow darting through the green stems ahead of him—he was following them, always following, but he could never catch up, never quite make out their form any more than an obscure shade.

At his feet, a perfect flower, plucked from its stem. Golden symmetrical harmony in every petal. The minute he touched it, it crumbled to dust at his fingertips, blowing away on the wind.

His voice called after it, but only once; he felt blood well in his throat at the raspy croak, cracked and broken from hours, days, years of calling the exact same thing, and never once receiving an answer.

(I still wish)

He could see them standing apart, facing each other. They didn't know each other any more, but somehow the battlefield was familiar, the players the same for another round. The tables reset, the game restarted, another chance in another life.

“It'll be a date to die for.”

“Hey! That's my line!”

He could see an invasion, a devastation on the scale that none had ever imagined—even he couldn't stand against it, falling to his knees in the face of oblivion, but somehow, at the end, there was Shadow. There was the star, the sun, his golden glow shining out against a blood-red sky, and taking the power he had been too weak to use before to end the war before it even began.

Shadow, his star, saved them all, taming the power that had once burned him out and turning it against his very creators, all for the sake of their world. Sonic stared up at him with awe and adoration, but Shadow never looked at him.

Not even once.

(I still wish)

He could see a shattered universe, a disaster created by his own audacity and hubris. His friends and enemies mere shells of their former selves, taunting him with possibilities and “might have beens” as he worked, piecing them back together even as the broken remains of the world drew farther apart, fading and flickering towards oblivion. He risked losing it all, losing everything—not just his true friends but these new versions as well.

But Shadow was there, watching over him: guiding his footsteps, and, at the very end, catching him when he fell.

Shadow saved him. Shadow always saved him.

(I still wish)

But best of all, he could see them dancing, like this, forever. The space above the planet becoming their domain, their place to stand and watch over the world below. They would count the stars together, naming them one by one and hanging them into their constellations, holding each one close until the day they went out, disappearing with a whisper or a nova bright enough to light up the entire night sky, leaving a mark on the skin of space that could be seen for millions of years.

A super nova.

He could see them in the city, the rain covering up the stars, the buildings, everything except the two of them, walking, hand in hand through the never-ending gray, but never being lost because together they were always found. Heart to heart and hand in hand, orbiting each other perfectly and perpetually, the comet caught in the star's gravity and kept safe, the perfect distance away to admire the fire but not be burned by it.

Geosynchronous.

He could see them in the flowers in the spring. Tulips, each as red as Shadow's eyes, bobbing their heads under the sun and the stars, time meaningless to them as they walked among the crimson fields, the smell of damp earth invigorating to every sense.

Metamorphic.

He could see them fighting, teeth bared, ears pinned, snarling and growling and hating each other or the world or both, until fur was dusty and fangs were stained with blood, but at the end of the day they would embrace, fire and ice, and return to a home that they shared and watch the world pass them by.

Together.

Like watching the Earthrise

Sonic didn't know how he'd found himself back on the ARK after the battle with the Final Hazard. He couldn't remember walking the hallways back to the viewing area—he couldn't imagine looking away from Shadow's grave for one singular moment. He...he hadn't, right? He hadn't looked away...he couldn't look away, he might miss the spark, the distant moment when Shadow reignited and came back, a phoenix from the ashes...his Sayonara couldn't be the end.

“Sonic.” Tails' voice nearly made him jump out of his skin, but he didn't look back; he couldn't look away.

“Yeah?”

“We have to go. Eggman's ship is getting ready and...”

Sonic cut him off, “Tails?”

“Yeah?”

“Comets...what are comets?”

“Comets? Uh...they're big balls of ice and rock that usually start way out in the far reaches of the solar system, and for some reason get flung in towards the sun. When they get close, at the near end of their parabolic pathway, the solar wind heats them up so they start forming tails of dust and gas as they basically burn up...”

Tails kept going, continuing his commentary about the wonders of the universe, but Sonic didn't hear, didn't process any more of the words, because there was only one thought that was echoing thunderously through his mind.

“Sh-shadow...Shadow was the comet.”

“What?” Tails stopped chattering, his tone concerned.

“Shadow was the comet.” Sonic's voice was hollow, as he stared out at the enormous blue and green ball that slowly rotated into the view of the window, “And I...I was always the sun.”

It was always going to end like this.

Like watching the Earthrise

Art Links!

#sonic the hedgehog big bang 2024

88 notes · View notes

jocelynscrazyideas · 7 months ago

Text

Baby I’m home! | Nico Hischier x Reader

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Warnings: smut, language, not much of dirty talk (there literally is none).

Summary: Nico come back from a roadie in Minnesota, they had lost their chance to get into the playoffs. Nico gets h0rny and…

A:N- HELP I’m so tired it’s so hard to keep writing, again I don’t have faith that I’ll like this piece but I spent 2 days trying to write it so here 🫶😉🍇

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After a roadie Nico returns home. The devs went to Minnesota and they had lost. Originally you were asked to come, actually the coaching staff were going to pay for some of the WAGs to go. Last time, the boys had gotten in a huge argument about the gameplay, and who should be on the first lineup. That’s not in their hands, it’s in the coaches and the stats of the players. Anyway, to keep them from miss behaving, the women were allowed to come.

“Baby!” Nico yells out for me in his American accent. He’s wearing his white tank top that stretch over his back and biceps, wow. He’s a smoke show.

“I wish you went! The Girls went out to the bars and the boys stayed behind and watched bar fights break out.” Nico explains. I’m actually quite nervous that he’s not showing any emotions.

Why is this loss so important? Because it was the devils last chance to win or even tie the game to get into the playoffs. Statistically in team stats overall no, they shouldn’t make it, but in number in points from each individual players had, yes they would have made it and probably win. John is an incredible defender, and so is Luke. Jack is a beautifully gifted skater and Jesper has the moves to skate within seconds across the whole rink. Ofcirese, Nico. My beautiful man. He is the most manly boy in the team, big muscles, coordination, and most importantly his social media presence. Everyone loves him.

I mean I love him.

“I know! I’m sorry.” I shout from our bedroom upstairs. Hear bags drop from downstairs and I think I hear some mumbling. I didn’t go on the roadie because I had work and I’m getting the worst headache for the last week.

“I brought up some meds. Does it still hurt?” Nico questioned and he pulls his tank top off and threw it onto our hamper that rots in our closet. Holy heaven of Abs. He’s just so fucking lovable, I don’t care about the fact he’s hot, but the way he carries himslef, he knows that no matter what he does, it’ll be intentional for him.

“Yes, thank you bubba.” I responded as I take the bottle of pills and take two pills. Yes, my head hurts so much I took two.

“Can we grab something to eat? I hungry.” Nico asked as he takes me by my hips.

He grasped onto my hips and ricks me back and forth, I can hear his stomach growl as he rests his head onto my shoulder. He shoved his head into the crook of my neck, I can feel him take my perfume from my body and pull it into his lungs. He’s smiling, I can feel his lips against my ear, and he starts to wrap his legs around my feet.

He starts to hurt me around and now I’m facing him, he’s looking straight into my eyes. He takes my hand and he places it to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, and it’s pounding. My stomach drops as he sweeps my from my feet and onto the bed.

“Do you want food? Or we can stay in and shower, then you know do whatever.” Nico suggested, I can feel him slipping away from me. He gets up and grabs his bag.

“You better not get your gear! Its stinks!” I yell after him as nico turns to the stairs to grab his away game items.

“Baby!” Nico shouts for me. “Can you grab some milk? I wnat pasta.” Nico I a sucker for some creamy and thick pasta.

I run down the stairs and I slide into the kitchen in my socks. I have on my- well Nico’s favorite shirt on me, it’s a blue halter top that wraps around my neck with beads, it has shells laces together at the bottom almost as if it were a belly chain, and the shirt is cropped above my belly button and it’s ribbed. It’s cute, but it works better for a swimsuit cover up.

“You look sexy.” Nico slips as he eyes my shorts.

Nico,a boxers are a bit to big for me butt I slide them on anyway, and the best part is that it’s plain black, so it really does match my outfit, it’s called my “I don’t fucking care” outfit. I love the outfit, nice and short and skin tight so I can get every little breeze in, especially since it’s March and season is almost over.

“Are you gonna grab the milk? Also while you’re at it could you grab the packaged rav?” Nico requested as he slips his old man slippers on. He collects his supply’s such as a pan, the milk I gave him and the ravioli, and of course some pesto. It’s not really pasta, but he diced up some cheese, slipped some butter in the ravioli, and he stirred everything together. He lets it set as he grabs two plates. I didn’t wnat any but he knew I haven’t eaten since he left. He puts some buttered pesto cheesy ravioli on my plate and as the man he is, he cooked it so he gets more. He just flips the pan upside down and gathers all of the pasta.

He finished up with dishes since we finished the ravioli, it was delicious.

“So, you wanna shower?” Nico asked me and I can feel him getting really close to me. He picks my hands up and we start to slow dance to the sound of construction in the neighborhood.

“Yeah, well YOU need to shower more, you’re stinky.” I say in a sarcastic way. He looks me dead in the eye and he picks me up. He carry’s me up the stairs and he throws me down onto the bed.

The blunt force of getting absolutely demolished by this man felt oddly great. He pulls my hair to the side and he starts to kiss my neck. I feel his stubble graze my skin. He’s warm breath is trapped in between my jawline and his lips. He pulls away and rubs his chest, he walks out of the room.

I hear the shower turn on, he moans along the sound of water hitting the grout in the bathroom. Nico enters the room eyeing his next meal.

Me.

I took my clothes off and I lay back as if I didn’t move. Nico runs towards me and kisses my forehead all the way down to my belly button. He licks my creases. He holds my breasts as he nibbles down onto my thigh. He looks up at me grinning, and I understand what is about to happen.

Water is everywhere. Nico had picked me up and slid his pants off. We had been teasing eachother for about three minutes, then he got to needy. His very hard veiny cock hits his abdomen every time I kiss him, it’s like it has its on pulse.

“Never stop.” Nico says as I go down to my knees. I kiss his v-line and he holds onto my hair. He grips onto me and he pressed his back against the wall. I lick his tip, and then I start to pump. I again start to take him into my mouth, I feel like gagging, it’s so gross, I c at take the taste of cum, but for him I will. I start to moan, enjoying my time trying to please him. Nico throws his head back and starts to get loud, he bangs his hand against the opposite wall, and he’s hunched over. I have very little space to suck. The water starts to get cold so I get up from going down on him. I turn the water to a hotter temperature and I massage his biceps, he starts to get really really warm. He dick is really pushed up against himself.

Nico looks like he’s going to cum, I mean he already did in my mouth, but now he’s opening his mouth anbd says “Turn.” One work that this man says to me and I fold. Nico takes me by my waist and bends down. He’s on one knee as he grips onto me. Nico pumps himself, he’s jerking hard enough to cause me cum. He starts to kiss me down under. I look down and he’s on both knees now, making love to my pussy.

I start to move, I can’t take it anymore, I pull his hand away from my upper body and force three fingers up my hole.

“Woah, woah, you can’t get it to fast.” Nico pulls out and sucks on his finger. He gets up and he pulls me onto his chest. I feel his cock on my back. I turn on my heels and I find Nico smirking down at me. I lay down in the shower as steam fills the large room.

“Legs.” Nico says, but in his switz accent. I do as I’m told and I start to run my clit.

“You’re soaking.” Nico eyes my pussy as he pumps into me. I feel his tip, now his whole cock is inside. He’s warm, and I can feel him twitch as he try’s to say, “can I?” He’s asking for approval to start moving, and I oblige.

“Yes, and of fucking course I’m soaking.” I say as I look up towards the hot water. Nico develops red dots on his back as he starts to thrust himself into me.

“Come for me baby.”

I start to moan and I feel him practically in my lungs. He stands up as he starts to cum. Strings of our future kids are coming out of my 3rd favorite piece of him.

“Oh baby.” I look at him and his dimples are showing. I start to cum again when I see him stand up.

I push him back down as I throw myslef on top of him. I sit on him and his friend. I take a minute to catch my breath as I relax to take him. It’s been four days since we’ve had sex. I push my hand onto his chest and my other in his abs, I can feel him cum, streams of warm substance fills me, and I take myself off of him. I sit in his face and he licks me clean, but that’s before I start to cum into his mouth.

“Let’s clean up, so we can do it again later.” Nico request as I get up and I start to clean up my hair from the knots it’s been tangled into. I grab shampoo and lather it onto Nico’s head and into mine. I feel Nico wash his head as the water falls into my crevices.

We warm up and dry off and Nico swoops me up again and he snuggles me into his arms as he turns our heated blanket on. I’m stuck in his large arms and I’m glad it’s him I can feel poking up at me again.

“Baby, I’m glad you’re home.” I say as I turn my head around to kiss his cheek.

#jocelynscrazyideas #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier #njd #nj devils #switzerland #captain hischier #nico hischer x reader #smut #🍇🍇🍇#jack hughes

106 notes · View notes

underground-secret · 8 months ago

Text

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: (Duo POV) After a hunt gone wrong Dean falls sick. Now on his death bed Sam and Y/N do whatever it takes to save him from the void that is death, even if that means running into trouble.

Warnings: Cannon violence, Ansgt, hospitals, talk about dying and death, illness, heart issues, talk of past deaths, grief, Dean may be OOC or at least his inner thoughts but let me know, Historical and religious talk of the Celts and Christianity if anything is incorrect/ inaccurate pls tell me so I may fix it, cursing

A/N: Thank you so much for 100 followers, never thought this series would get so much love!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 15,139

Faith

(Master list, Prev. Ch, Next Ch)

I hate hospitals.

I hate hospitals, especially when it is someone you care about on the medical bed.

I hate hospitals, especially when you can’t be in the room with the person; when you have to sit in the waiting room with nothing but pure anxiety coursing through your veins, and everyone around you is in the same position.

At least Sam is with him, that must make both of them feel better. But it doesn't make me feel as better as it should, my leg bounces rapidly no distraction working for me. I tried reading and listening to music on my stupid iPod, but neither worked- not when my mind was going a hundred miles a minute on all the worst possibilities.

It wasn't meant to be a difficult hunt, going after a rawhead. Yet it all went wrong far too quickly, Dean yelled for Sam and I to get the children out of the basement while he stayed behind fighting the thing. It would be a single shot with a taser, easy to mess up on, truthfully, which is why I had given mine up for him to have as an extra one before I carried a young boy out. It was all wrong. So so wrong. He shot the thing but they both happened to be standing in a small puddle of water, and water conducts stupid electricity and he got hurt too.

Sam had found him. We called for an ambulance and rushed him to the hospital, he was unconscious the whole time.

Sam had to talk to the receptionist for insurance and then the cops explaining what happened and then a doctor. But they wanted to talk privately and he wanted to see Dean alone first. Which only increased my anxiety, Sam wouldn’t have done that unless something was horribly wrong. Something was horribly wrong. I felt like I was going to vomit or shake myself out of existence, maybe the latter would be better. Everyone around me wasn't much better, looking the same shade of nervousness. Some were crying, pacing, or on the phone talking rapidly. Hospitals were a horribly depressing place.

I’m unsure how much time passes, minutes, hours, an eternity? Sam walks towards me, tears in his eyes some clearly having spilled over by the redness of his cheeks. No. No. No.

I stand up walking to him almost without noticing as if it was all just natural, tears fill my own eyes and I can feel my hands shaking. No. No. He wouldn't be crying if–

“Sam?” I said weakly, my voice wobbling horribly. I swallow down a knot in my throat, this couldn't be happening. No.

He drops his head down, his hair covering his face and likely more tears that spilled over. “Sam,” I say again my voice breaking. I couldn't lose someone else, couldn't lose anyone else. He finally lifts his head, barely being able to hold eye contact. He seems to wobble and all at once he falls into me, I hold him, his head dropping awkwardly into my neck, from the height difference, broken sobs leaving his mouth. He hugs me tightly, grasping desperately to the back of my shirt. Something is horribly wrong. I blink back my tears, I had to be strong for Sammy. This was his brother, I might have lost both my parents but I couldn't imagine how it would feel to lose my brother.

My neck grows damp but I ignore it. I hold the back of his head, holding him, no comforting words forming in my mind. “Sam” I breathe. I felt like I was going insane. He pulls himself away, keeping me in arm's distance. His face is red and blotchy from crying, and his hair is a mess. “Please” I begged one last time, my voice quivering.

He sniffles hard, but I do not expect him to be strong, “He has a month, at best” his voice is coarse and shaky but the words feel like they came out in slow motion. Everything freezes, turning into a buzz of white noise. I can feel tears spill down my cheeks but I can’t move. I can’t. No. He can’t be dying. No. No. He wasn’t allowed to. The world seemed to shatter, no, maybe that was my heart. I can feel it beating in my ears, everything else fading away. His mouth moves, he is saying something else but I cannot hear him over the sterile noise of the world crumbling. I don't understand. My throat is so tight I feel like I might just break right there. My knees feel weak and the floor seems closer than before.

Sam pulls me into him, holding me tightly once again, his hands cradling my head as a choked sob leaves my lips. Tears pour down my eyes, he promised. All those months ago he promised he wouldn’t leave me, it was a stupid and fruitless promise but I believed it.

He couldn’t die. He can’t, he can’t die. No one else. Not again.

All too soon Sam pulls back, his arms being the only thing that seems to be holding me up. I can barely make out his features behind my own teary eyes. “He wanted me to come get you, ‘wouldn’t talk without you there” he croaks. A whole new sob breaks through my lips, I wasn't strong enough for this. I went through this twice, I could not take another. Tear after tear passes down my face, my cheeks stiff with it. I shake my head, this can’t be happening again, but even so, I let him pull me down the halls to his room trying my best to blink away my never-ending tears. But it was useless, not when it felt like I was being torn in two.

I stopped at the threshold of the doorway, he looked so weak, he was so pale and he had dark circles under his eyes that were not there hours before. An IV sticks out of his arm along with various machines around him, including an EKG. New tears fall over the rim of my eyes and I have to force my hand to clasp my mouth to hide another sob. Sam enters the room, his face hard and rid of any of the emotions he showed just moments ago. How could he do that?

Dean’s eyes are focused on the TV, but even from where I was partially hiding I could see his green eyes had grown dull, “Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible” he jokes but he sounded weak too, his voice rid of its usual playful tone and familiar gruffness. Sam shakes his head and sighs, his ability to not break down in front of his brother was impressive to the point of it being scary, “I talked to your doctor.” But Dean continues to ignore anything that wasn’t that stupid TV playing commercials, “That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down” he responds instead. I want to laugh and ask him what the cute laundry bear ever did to him but I could not find it within me to be humorous, “Dean” I plead weakly my voice betraying me with its cracking. That gets his attention.

His eyes snapped up to where I stood, leaning against the doorframe to prevent myself from crumbling to the floor. His face immediately fills with worry, his eyes softening which is ironic considering who’s in the hospital bed. Without looking away from me he turned off the TV, I could tell he was thinking and worrying over something as he stared at me but I could not look at him without new tears falling. “Yeah. All right, well, ‘looks like you're gonna leave town without me” he finally says, my eyes snap back to him but he has already turned his attention to his brother. “What the hell are you talking about?” I step into the room, my sadness mixing too closely with frustration over his stupid declaration. “We are not gonna leave you here” Sam adds in sternly. “Hey, you better take care of that car” he points at Sam, any hint of a joke void from his voice, “Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass.”

My eyebrows scrunched together, “what's wrong with you?” I accuse, “How are you just accepting this? You are young and have so much life ahead of you” For each word that passed my lips tears followed, my resolve too thin to exist. “You’re meant to grow old, and…and yell at kids to get off your lawn as you work on Baby and maybe other cars with a pet at your side and a lovely home. You’re meant to annoy your brother and me with stupid calls and the same old rock music.” I swallow roughly, ignoring the subtle shock on his face, “It’ll be beautiful and wonderful and we will all be there to watch it happen because you have to live.” My chest heaves, and I’m surprised I have any more tears to give. Life was too cruel before to allow me the opportunity to beg someone to stay as if that feat alone was enough to keep someone alive.

Silence envelopes the room, his eyes are wide and his lips are slightly agape. I don’t believe in God, but I would get on my knees right now and beg and plead and do anything he ever wanted if it meant Dean living. He sighs after what feels like forever, “Look, what can I say, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.” I don’t understand how he could just dwindle his life down to bad luck and a wrong straw. Tears well in my eyes and I have the urge to smack some sense into him. “Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options” Sam insists, his voice breaking slightly. “What options?” Dean asks, “Yeah, burial or cremation?” he pauses for a moment his “joke” not landing, “And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. How many people will I have to lose until it's enough to feed the glutenous wrath of death? First, it was my mother growing sick and dying, neither my brother nor I was allowed to see her in such a state not even to say goodbye. Then my Dad, who grew reckless in the wake of his only love's death, the coldness about him we had heard about only in stories returning to consume him completely until he drove himself into the ground. I always thought I was most like my mother, but now in the wake of this maybe I am my father's daughter.

I wipe away my tears roughly before clenching my hands, needing my nails to dig into my palms to ground me. “Let me try and heal you,” I say as firmly as my voice will allow. I've never done such a thing on a serious scale, it never got to the point where I felt desperate enough to toe the line of my own morals. But this, for him I would and I would not stay awake at night contemplating my selfishness.

Dean’s POV

Her face was red from crying, and her e/c eyes were filled with deep sadness. She looked shattered, and even so, she was beautiful.

I know I wasn’t being fair to her or Sam. But I always knew I’d die on a hunt, I long accepted it so her big glossy eyes would do nothing to change that fact. Even if it broke her, both of them, which I knew I was already doing. But I also know that sugar-coated truths would only hurt them more, I wasn’t going to allow them to get hopeful not when it would ruin them.

“Please?” she pleads quietly. My resolve breaks, my heart lurches as if it was trying to get closer to her and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the heart attack.

This was for the better, if they saw nothing would work early on they’d hopefully accept my death quicker. Plus I knew she’d stay up every night wondering what more she could have done for me, she’d obsess over it until it broke her all over again. I give her a sharp nod not trusting my voice, her eyes seem to light up a little, and that enough was all the excuse I needed.

She steps closer to my bed, careful not to trip over the wires connecting to me. She got close enough where I could smell her perfume, something sweet and flowery, and undeniably her, I felt warmer just from her closeness. She swallows roughly, “It works better if I can touch you…without the barrier of clothes.” Under any other circumstance I would most likely be flustered by her shy request, I mean this is what I’ve always wanted– to have her. But time was not on my side and I’d never get a chance to tell her, whenever it was I planned on doing so– to do so now with only a week to live would be too cruel. If she didn't like me back I’d die at least knowing and maybe I’d die with a broken heart or whatever crap people complain about. But if she did like me, which Sam insists she does, then a week wouldn't be long enough.

I lift the scratchy hospital shirt, hoping neither saw how much energy the simple action took. She looked nervous as she stared at my bare chest but I could see the hard look of determination in her eyes, she needed this. Carefully she places her hands on the center of my chest, her hands freezing as I suspected they would be but I don't cower from her gentle touch I lean into it further. I bask in it, small sparks igniting where she touched and it had nothing to do with her abilities. She looks up at me, watching my face for any warnings as her own e/c eyes turn to purple and pure warmth extends from her palm seeping into my skin. Maybe I should have been scared, but she was looking at me so gently and she's so beautiful that she must be an angel, and I'm only half the man she deserves.

I suck in a deep breath, clarity hitting me like an arrow, the grogginess and pain I felt melting into a puddle and being replaced with her. It felt like she was cradling my heart, caressing it gently like she would my face, her kindness and love seeping into the vessel, and truthfully I don't ever want it back. She could have my heart. She could have every part of me, and I'd never ask for it back. It's hers. I'm hers. My mouth fell agape, her hair fell onto her face, and I could feel it in my bones. I could feel the tension leave my shoulders and it was like everything I'd been carrying was lifted away. I don't care if she was healing me or not, I want her hands on me, I want to feel her. Just her. She was the sun and I was a fool begging to be closer, even if it burned, even if it was impossible.

Her hands begin to shake violently, but she pushes on, she holds on to me. Her fingers look like they want to curl and dig into my skin and it's clear she's fighting against the instinct, she doesn't want to hurt me not that I would mind any marks she printed into my skin. She lets her head hang, closing her eyes, “Oh fuck” she whines quietly and I have to desperately keep my mind clean. ‘Not the time to have those thoughts or acknowledge how hot that was. I lift a hand pushing her hair out of her face and behind her ear, keeping my hand there to hold her. Again I have to force away any ideas of what noises I could get her to make in a similar position. She looks up at me from her lashes as she bites down on her bottom lip hard, and I wonder how much longer I can keep my mind clean.

Suddenly deep crimson drips down her upper lip, and she begins to shake more. “Wait, wait Y/N” I breathe, looking from her over to Sam with concern. He pulls her off of me, she looks drained and paler than I know I am. She wipes at her nose, the blood has seemingly stopped, but she still shakes and wobbles. Sam pushes her down onto a nearby seat and I pull down my shirt, “How do you feel?” he asks me. “Peachy” I respond, smirking. He rolls his eyes, “I’m being serious. Did it work?”

“I feel better, not as weak” I answer truthfully. She nodded her head, her voice quieter than moments before, “Call for a nurse we should see if anything physically changed.”

“What about you? What was all that?” I ask. She shrugs, “‘Never really done it on a scale like this before, but it takes a lot out of you.”

Your POV

The doctor finally comes back, sifting through the papers on his clipboard, he looks shocked and confused which I hope is for the better because being lightheaded and on the verge of passing out would be worth it. “‘Looks like there has been some improvement, which would explain why you feel better,” he says, the room growing quiet with hope, “The difference is slight but well enough to know it wasn't a fluke” he looks up, “But I’d say it wasn't enough to change the outcome, I’m sorry.” Somehow the second time was worse. Hope was worse. “Thank you, Doctor” Sam replies sadly, and with a nod, the doctor leaves but does not take our sorrow with him.

“I can keep trying. Eventually, it will add up, and the more I do it the longer I’d be able to go” I offer, desperation clear on my tongue that it's almost embarrassing. “We can keep trying that but we should look at other options too” Sam adds. I nod my head vigorously in agreement. “You shouldn't get your hopes up, I’ve already accepted I’m gonna die you should too” Dean responds instead.

“Not happenin’” Sam retorts.

After we used up all our visiting hours we headed to the library, skipping out on eating to research for hours on both supernatural and not– just anything related to heart conditions and healing. I didn't ask why Sam didn't stay with his brother, he was family so he didn't have to follow visitation hours but I also figured he would rather spend his time trying to find a solution. Currently, Sam went the more “normal” route, pulling and printing articles on heart surgeries and other doctor stuff while calling several people. At the same time, I delved into the dark that is the unnatural.

Sam left a while ago, heading back to the motel with all his articles. I insisted on staying behind to “look for more,” in reality, I was going to make a call. The library closed in less than an hour and I already researched several Gods associated with healing, the side of my hand had turned dark with the ink stains. Though it was unsuccessful it was helpful for two reasons; one I at least looked, meaning it was one more thing I could check off, and two it pushed me to make a call I wasn't sure I was ready for.

What I needed was to be home, to look through many books on mythology and witchcraft, there I would find something but that was halfway across the country and each day that passed would be a day wasted. And teleporting books here wouldn't be helpful when there were so many of them and I wasn't sure where I would even begin.

I stare at my phone on the table, this shouldn't be a big deal. I call her all the time, well not as of late which I already got yelled at for. No, none of that mattered. She could lecture me a hundred times or resent me for months. I needed to help Dean. I swiftly pick up my phone, scrolling down to her contact, I don't hesitate to hit “call”, I’ve already hesitated too many times today.

The phone rings three times before she picks up, “Adeline” I start my voice already cracking with emotion. I can almost hear her jump to her feet, “Y/N?! What happened? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I did not think I had any more tears left but was proven wrong when another tear slipped down my cheek, “Dean he’s…” I couldn’t say it, couldn't make it more real than it already was. I swallow roughly, trying to cram down my emotions for the time being, I’ve cried enough today, “Dean he’s dying, and I don't know–” a strangled sob leaves my lips and I have to force myself together resting my head on my hand for support, “I don't know what to do” I finished weakly. I hear her suck in a deep breath and it only makes me feel worse, “I-I want help…I need help,” I add, “I tried healing him, the doctor said the effect was minor but I’m gonna keep doing it, even if it takes a lot out of me.”

She exhales, “I’m really sorry Y/N”. I shake my head even though I know she can't see me. I ignored her comment, there was nothing to be sorry for because he was going to be alright, “Do you have any ideas? Maybe I’m doing something wrong or could be doing it better?”

She goes quiet again and it is hard to hold on to hope, “please,” I say quietly hoping she can hear me. She clears her throat, her voice cold and serious, “I’d try some herbal tea, one with healing properties any one of it will help or at least make him more comfortable.” I hum picking up my pen again, writing ‘herbal tea’ on my arm, I didn’t want to risk forgetting.

She sighs again, but it isn’t disappointed or even exhausted, “Don’t…don’t get your hopes up.” I shake my head vigorously again, “I’m not listening to this. I called for help cause you’re the only person I can think of who would know even a wisp of this. I’m desperate for help, not a lecture.” I know I was being cruel, ‘could hear it. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. “No, Y/N please listen. This isn’t an easy task, honestly, I’d like to say it’s impossible but I don’t want you to hang up on me. This doesn't come without great sacrifice.”

“And what if I’m okay with that?” I snap back, “I’m willing to sacrifice.”

“This is different,” she spits a hint of anger on her tongue, “I don’t mean just going against everything you believe in or against your mother's words. I mean making deals with demons, where you could lose your soul or your life or what makes you whole or maybe even worse.” I go quiet. I know she’s right, she always is. But I know my answer, I know what I’m willing to do, “I said I’m willing to make sacrifices.”

“Are you?” she counters. And without hesitation, I answer, “I love him.” I could tell she was getting frustrated with me, for not listening to her warning or taking her seriously even though I was. Of course, I know this is dark and messy territory, but that did not concern me. I can hear her swallow, her voice turning hard again, “What you would need to do would be more than love him.”

“Would it?” I counter.

“Yes,” she replies sternly, “And I won’t help you with that.” It was hard to be mad at her, she was just watching out for me trying to protect me. That was her job after all. But I wanted so desperately for him to be okay, he had to be. “Whether you help me or not, I will do everything in my power to fix this. He won't die.”

“I know you will. That’s what scares me.”

My eyebrows furrow, “I don’t understand.”

“I hope you never will,” she huffs out a breath, “I don’t want you to regret anything.” I couldn't vocalize it, did not even know how to make her understand what I felt–that even if I lost him now if I never saw him again. If I sat on his grave weeping for the man I loved with new flowers in my hand each day and each year. If I never got to hold his hand again. If I never got to see him smile again– that cocky smile. Even if I never got to tell him that I loved him…even then, I would never regret knowing him. Never regret the first time we met and never, never regret loving him. But I don’t say that, instead settling for, “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

She turns serious once more, determined even, “You won’t. I’m on my way to your place now, I’ll go through your books, and I’ll call you back the second I find something.” She may not agree with my decisions all the time, and might even be upset that we don’t talk as much anymore but at the end of the day we’re best friends–more than that really, “Thank you, Adeline.”

“Of course, now don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she laughs lightly, “I love you, talk to you later.” I smile for the first time in hours, “I love you too, be safe.”

I let myself into the motel room. Sam doesn’t look up from his place on the bed, papers surround him, some in the garbage which I assume were ones that won't work out. I make my way to the small table in the corner of the room, avoiding looking at where Dean slept the night before. I take out my spellbook, my small journal, and my laptop. My eyes were killing me, most likely from crying so much before.

The next few days would follow a similar pattern, Sam would fall asleep but never for very long before getting coffee and a quick bite to eat before continuing his search. And I spent the nights awake, sleep could not find me at the edge of the void. At some point crumbled pieces of paper surrounded me and I felt like a college student again, I didn't want to do anything but look for an answer. Adeline called once that first night, but it didn't wind up leading anywhere.

The second morning I prepared tea for Dean, arriving at the hospital with the steaming cup and food that wasn't from the hospital. He looked happy to see me and complained about how bored he was there. He looked horrible, and it hurt my chest to see him like that so I just nodded to what he said. He drank the tea with nearly no complaint but instead curiosity, I explained I had boiled Sun water, before making homemade ginger tea adding cinnamon sticks, chamomile, and honey for taste. He asked me to explain to him why I chose each one, though I wasn't sure he truly cared and just wanted to hear me speak since he was relentless with his questions. I healed him again and laid with him when he asked. Then the rest of the while we talked as I did research.

Somehow being there, and watching him worsen was worse than not being there at all. I think I understand now why we weren't allowed to be there when my mom died. I would have rathered someone just stabbed me in the heart over and over then see his eyes grow duller. I healed him again before I was kicked out.

I felt hopeless. I wasn't going to give up but I felt hopeless. It was like I wasn't myself but watching myself go through the motions.

The second night wasn't much better. I slept for a couple of hours only to wake up crying. I didn't try to sleep after that. I prayed to God that night. I hadn't done that in years. I hadn't begged him for mercy since my mother died. I think I was on my knees for hours, the harsh carpet digging into my skin, but that didn’t matter. I barely felt it after a while. I apologized for not praying in years, for only praying when it benefited me which I knew was selfish. I asked for help, and begged for it. I needed him to help Dean. I said I’d do anything he wanted if he did that, even if it meant becoming a nun. I felt incredibly embarrassed begging like that, I didn't even believe in God yet there I was my hands pressed together and the carpet beneath my knees. I cried again that night, for everyone I've lost and how far I would go to save another.

Adeline was wrong, I decided. Sacrifice didn't come with the solution, it came with the search for the answer. Like I said, I didn't feel like myself. I knew I was losing myself each hour that passed and I knew it would only get worse if he did die.

On the third morning, I did the same thing I did the morning before. But after healing him for the first time that morning, I broke in front of him. “I don't want you to go,” I told him, sobbing. He just held me against him even though I knew it hurt him, but he just stroked my head anyway mumbling “I know, I know” into my hair. I could hear his voice breaking with each letter; somehow, that was worse than seeing him act as if he didn't care. Then very quietly he whispered, “I don't know how to comfort someone when I know I’m the source of their pain.”

They did more tests on him. He wasn't getting better, at least not fast enough. It seemed my healing was just halting its progress momentarily, in a sense slowing it down before it continued. I needed to stay on him longer but I wasn’t sure how and ‘could barely make it past 20 minutes before I began to shake so badly and feel so faint like my chest was being pulled open with the sharp nails of cold hands.

I went back to the motel dragging my feet. It had been three days and we had nothing to show for it but failed attempts which I suppose is better than no attempts though it didn’t much feel that way. When I got there I returned to my corner at the table, moving away my mess of “work” with a swipe of my arm. I crumble into the wooden chair, laying my forehead on the edge of the table, I didn’t know what to do. I’d keep looking no matter what, that would not change. I would search through every book on every myth, god, folklore, anything. I’d do whatever it took, I just hoped time would not beat us to the finish line.

With a huff, I pulled my latest book from the library closer to me, a book on Greek Gods. I pick up where I left off in the thick book on the God of healing and medicine Asclepius. I read the passage about him, and it seemed promising, “He was considered a symbol of medical knowledge, skill, and wisdom. Known for his ability to heal the sick and revive the dead, Asclepius played an essential role in Greek religious and medical traditions…He was known for his exceptional skill in diagnosing diseases and treating wounds. His abilities were so profound that he could even bring the dead back to life, a talent that eventually led to his downfall…The Asclepieia, healing temples dedicated to the god, were spread throughout Greece and were renowned centers of medical practice. Pilgrims would travel great distances to seek healing, engaging in purification rituals, sacrifices, and dream incubation, where they would sleep in the temple and receive divine guidance through dreams.”

The rest of the chapter contains no more info on the healing aspect but just more of his legacy and whatnot. I close the book sharply, pulling open my laptop to do more research on him. Maybe a temple still existed, and considering Pilgrims there might even be one in America somewhere. Just as I type the temple name into Google a knock sounds from the door.

For a moment I think Sam forgot his keys, but when I turned to where he always was he was there. He looks at me confused and I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe it’s room service?” He answers by going to the door and opening it curiously. I watch from my seat, tilting my chair back to get a better look. But it is not room service, or someone knocking at the wrong door, it’s Dean. I almost fall backward, my chair slams forward back on all four legs I shoot up from my seat.

He leans on the doorframe, holding his side. He still has dark circles under his eyes and just looks sickly which is only accentuated by the black zip-up he wore, which was odd for him he never really wore sweaters. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam exclaims his voice a mix of surprise and confusion. Dean limps his way just a little bit further into the room, leaning on a dresser next to the door, “I checked myself out,” he responds placing all his weight on the thing. I didn't even know a sick patient could check themselves out like that. “What, are you crazy?” Sam exclaims.

Dean shrugs, “Well, I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.” He turns his head to wink at me and gives me that devilish smile. My jaw dropped, baffled wasn't even the word to explain it. This had to be the most Dean Winchester thing Dean could have ever done, I could not fathom it. I wanted to call him an idiot but I was too shocked to give any response. Sam huffs a laugh as he shuts the door, “You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-danger-thing? It’s crap. I can see right through it, we both can.”

Dean moves himself further into the room leaning on anything he could, “Yeah, whatever, dude. Have either of you even slept? You look worse than me.” Sam helps him to the bed, sitting him down, “We’ve been scouring the Internet for the last three days.”

I sit back in my chair, scooting it so I can face them both, “I don't know how either of our laptops survived this. Late at night, I think I can hear it cry.”

Dean purses his lips, “Lack of sleep has made you crazy.” It was my turn to huff a laugh, and for that fraction of a second everything felt normal. But that moment of normalcy breaks as Sam adds, “I’ve also called every contact in Dad’s journal.” I was brought right back to the present, back to the reason we were doing all of this to begin with. “For what?” Dean asks.

“For a way to help you,” Sam explains, “One of Dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist.”

“Wait, why didn't you tell me sooner?” I ask.

“He called back when you were with Dean,” he answers, “I was going to tell you when you came back but didn't get the chance before he decided to break out.” I hum an ‘oh’ in response. “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?” Dean chimes in, hunched over.

“I’m not gonna let you die, period. We’re going” Sam says, end of discussion.

The Impala bumps along the gravel road, I was beyond happy we finally arrived. The sky was cloudy and grey with a thin layer of mist clinging to everything, it reflected the past couple of days and the ride quite perfectly. Dean rested in the back seat the entire time, his face scrunched in discomfort, we stopped a couple of times so I could jump back there and heal him for a short while.

The car comes to a full stop among others in a large green field, a large white circus tent stealing the show. A sign nearby reads The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle. I was skeptical, but like Sam said our options were low. I wasn’t religious and certainly hated when things like this existed, giving people false hope and feeding them lies, when they could be looking at real options and getting real help but I guess I was being a hypocrite considering how I spent my time kneeling to a God I didn't believe in. Many people walked towards it, all sick, some with canes, walkers, breathing devices, etc. I get out of the car slowly, eyeing the scene carefully. We’re all just desperate people, hoping a tent in the middle of nowhere will save our loved ones.

Sam gets out of the car, rounding the vehicle to help his brother get out of the car. Dean grimaces as he tries to lift himself, “I got ya” Sam tells him trying to grab him but Dean shoves him away, “I got it” he spits. He fixes himself, pissed off, but uses the car to hold himself up leaning on it, “Man, you are a lying bastard. ‘Thought you said we were going to see a doctor.”

“I believe I said a specialist” Sam corrects. I squint my eyes at him, “You’re not slick. But…” I say stretching out the word, “We should try, at the very least.”

“And this guy is supposed to be the real deal” Sam adds, nodding. Dean scuffs, rolling his eyes, “I can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent.”

An old woman walks by holding a big black umbrella, “Reverend LeGrange is a great man” she declares. “Yeah, that’s nice” Dean sarcastically remarks. I hold back on batting his arm as I would normally, “Be nice” I mumble instead.

We walk away from the old lady and the car heading toward the tent, walking past an angry man who is struggling against an officers hold, “I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he’s milking all these people of their hard-earned money.” I suck in a sharp breath, mumbling an “Amen, brother” underneath my breath. But the Sheriff seems to ignore the man's declaration, holding him back while trying to lead him away, “Sir, this is a place of worship. Let’s go. Move it.” The man huffs, walking away with the Sheriff. “I take it he’s not part of the flock” Dean remarks.

Sam purses his lips, half shrugging, “When people see something they can’t explain, there’s controversy.”

Dean stops short, getting our attention and making us stop too, “I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer? And what about you Y/N you don’t believe in this crap.”

I hold up my hands in surrender, “You're right. I don’t. And I think making a whole religion out of it that smells more like a cult than anything, it’s ridiculous. But there’s a good chance this is legit,” I drop my hands back at my side, “He’s probably using magic like I was doing with you, it's just that he's, hopefully, more successful.” He pressed his lips together tightly, I got him there. “See, maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean,” Sam adds.

“You know what I’ve got faith in?” Dean exclaims, “Reality. And this won’t work. I mean do you really think this guy is a dude-witch.”

I purse my lips, “I’m pretty sure the term would be a wizard, but, uh, I don't know. I’d have to see it in action to know for certain along with anything around him while he works, rituals and stuff.” I pause for a moment, thinking it over, “I do hope he’s real and not an elaborate con artist, and I hope he’s better than me at the whole healing thing.” I was being blatantly honest. I hoped it would encourage Dean to not fight this version of help, and I truly did wish this guy could help. “And if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there, too?” Sam chimes in, a hint of annoyance on his tongue. A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitches, “Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people.”

Dean’s POV

I snapped in a moment of weakness and said too much. “Dean” she sighs, placing a gentle hand on my upper arm, stepping closer to me almost subconsciously. I didn’t want a lecture full of sappy nonsense and corny poetry. She must have known that because she smiled sadly, her lip curving up on one side, my eyes following the movement, “Good does exist, it has to,” she says simply ever the optimist. She tilts her head slightly, looking up at me through her curled eyelashes, her hand still on my arm, my knees feel weak. “I'm sure you can think of at least one good person. Of course, the terms good and evil are subjective…” she cuts her cute rambling off, “but you get what I mean.”

I guess she was right. Sammy’s a good person sometimes a total asshole but I guess that came with the territory of being brothers. And Y/N’s the definition of being a good person, she’s always been kind even to people who didn't deserve it, including me. I remember a couple of times I was cruel to her when we were kids, always about her being a witch, yet for some reason she accepted my apology and even wanted to keep being friends. For a long time, I didn’t understand her, ‘how she could be sweet and smile at a world filled with darkness. Sometimes I think I still don't get her. “Please just give it a try,” she pleads, “And if it doesn't work or turns out to be a con you can make fun of us the whole way back.”

I studied her again, she looked drained and I knew she hadn't been sleeping all because of me. “Fine” I huff. She bites back a smile and suddenly complying with this stupid faith healer was worth it.

“And who knows, maybe God works in mysterious ways” an unfamiliar voice butts in. I didn't care to look who it was, solely focused on the girl who still had her hand on me; a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes, one I hadn't seen in three days. “Maybe he does” I respond, half heartily, I look up briefly catching the eyes of an attractive blonde holding a black umbrella. I averted my eyes back to my girl, but she was already looking away at the woman who interrupted us, her hand slipped down my arm.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N” she introduces herself, holding out the hand that was touching me only moments ago. She accepts her hand, “Layla. And these two?” Layla says looking past her. “Sam,” he introduces himself before motioning to me, “Dean.” I give her a tightlipped smile in response.

She smiles at me, “So, if you’re not a believer, then why are you here?” She was attractive, you’d have to be blind not to see it but my interest is elsewhere. I can't fool myself into thinking that'll work out. Hell, I'm probably gonna end up dead. And yeah, it's harsh, but I can't shake the feeling that I'd rather spend what time I've got with Y/N, not waste it chasing after other girls just to fill the gap she left without even knowing it. I’m self-aware enough to know that. “Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the both of us” I muse. An older woman with blondish-gray hair walks over, putting an arm around the girl, “Come on, Layla. It’s about to start.” Both women smile at us before walking away.

“Well, you heard the woman,” Y/N starts, “We should get you inside.” Sam nods leading the way.

Your POV

The tent is packed, full of people trying to find seats, it smells of hope and despair if that’s possible. “Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over,” Dean remarks, nodding over to a camera in the corner. Did churches have cameras? “I guess it makes sense,” I try to reason, “‘probably get more people like that dude outside protesting, maybe even getting violent.”

Dean slips away sitting down on one of the foldable chairs. “Hey no,” I point at him, “You are not gonna be all brooding and hide in the back.” His shoulders slump, “Let’s sit here.”

“No” I answer simply, eyebrows scrunched. He opens his mouth in a retort but his brother steps in, putting an arm around him and practically dragging him from the seat and towards the front, “Oh, come, on, Sam” Dean growls. Mistaking his anger for pain Sam halts in his movements, “You alright?”

“This is ridiculous” Dean bites, slapping his brother’s hands away, “I’m good, dude, get off of me.” I roll my eyes at their behavior, even in public, and even with one of them being severely sick they could still act childish and make a scene. I look around the closer rows, looking for seats, “Look at that” I smile turning back to the boys, “seats” I point to three empty seats not only close to the front but right behind Layla, the girl from before. She seemed nice, maybe a little strange in randomly joining the conversation but it wasn’t a big deal. “Perfect” Sam agrees, lightly shoving his brother in that direction. “Yeah, perfect” Dean remarks, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Take the aisle,” Sam tells his brother before moving into the row of seats, I move in after him taking the seat between them. Dean grumbles something, his face having ‘irritable’ all over it, but he sits quietly, arms crossed.

An old man with white hair and sunglasses steps onto the stage with the help of an older woman with brown hair tied back. He must be the famous Roy LeGrange, “Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?” he says with a classic southern accent, the crowd muttering agreements, “Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.”

“He could say that aga–'' I began to mumble. “Huh” I hum to myself, my eyes catching on a particular religious item, why would there be a Celtic cross? I mean the cross represented the blending of the Celts and Christians but there are many separations between the two from believing in multiple gods to human sacrifice–

“But, I say to you, God is watching,” he preaches, and if I wasn't so focused on that wooden cross I might have rolled my eyes forgetting my manners, especially when the crowd responded with “Yes he is.” It sounded very cultish, the hair on my arms standing up. Maybe it wasn’t that weird for there to be a Celtic cross, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling. I racked my brain for information on it, and I just couldn’t see it used in Christian churches anymore. Though of course, I could be wrong, it's not like I go to church every day or even once a week. But again it felt a little too weird to just brush off–

“God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt” Roy continued getting loud cheering and more murmuring. I look at the people around me strangely, I forget how powerful religion is…

Speaking of which, that damn Celtic cross again. Alright, think. The Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension, the vertical arm represents the life aspect while the horizontal arm signifies death, the circle acting as a portal to transformation. In simpler terms, the cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the Celtic cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. But what does that mean here? Okay, well he’s supposedly healing people which would be the life aspect and the death could represent the healing cheating death? No, that sounded like a stretch. Maybe this was all a stretch and the cross meant nothing. I’m just overreacting because I'm scared of what will become of this if this man was a con or whatever else. Yeah, that makes more sense—

“It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts,” Roy proclaimed.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers just loud enough for Sam and me to hear, “and into their wallets.” But it wasn’t quiet enough, “You think so, young man?” Oh, that was weird. The crowd falls dead silent, “Sorry” Dean apologizes. “No, no. Don’t be.” Roy shakes his head, “Just watch what you say around a blind man, we’ve got real sharp ears.” The crowd laughs but an unpleasant feeling worms itself into my stomach. It was innocent enough but something felt off and I don't think it has anything to do with Dean being scrutinized. “What’s your name, son?” Roy asks. He clears his throat, sitting straighter in his seat, “Dean.”

“Dean” Roy repeats nodding to himself, “I want…I want you to come up here with me.” My eyes widened, maybe God finally listened. “No, it’s okay” he shakes his head. “What are you doing?!” Sam whisper-yells, but his brother ignores him.

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t cha?” Roy inquires.

“Well, yeah, but, uh…maybe you should just pick someone else” Dean attempts to reason. And I hate the way he doesn't believe he is worthy of saving. The crowd claps loudly, “Oh, no. I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.” Had we been here for any other reason I might have been more disturbed by that proclamation, but this was a chance. The crowd roars in excitement, voices mixed in encouragement. Dean looks overwhelmed, I place a hand on his knee gaining his attention quickly, “Dean, this is good, go” I whisper to him even though I was unsure of this whole thing and that odd cross. He studies me for half a moment, something I couldn't recognize passing over his features before he reluctantly raises, my hand slipping from his leg.

The woman from before helps Dean to the stage, situating him next to the healer, “You ready?” he asks Dean. “Look, no disrespect, but, uh, I’m not exactly a believer,” Dean says, looking between the crowd and the old man. But Roy just smiles, “You will be, son. You will be,” he turns to the crowd arms raised, “Pray with me, friends.” Again, almost like a cult, the crowd joins hands as Roy moves his hands to place on Dean; one on his shoulder and the other to the side of his head. I hold my breath, I want this to work so badly, I hadn't even begun to think of a plan B if this didn't.

Suddenly Dean’s eyes glaze over, it was never like that when I healed him, and then he seems to wobble sinking to his knees. I gasped, I didn't think it would be so intense or that my heart would beat so fast. A deep chill runs up my spine seeping into my bones, my skin prickles with goosebumps, the Celtic cross comes into view again and I suddenly feel sick, a horrible feeling tangling itself in between my stomach. I don't know where to look the cross or Dean, my eyes flipping between the two rapidly all until Dean's eyes roll back and he crumbles down onto the stage floor. Sam manages to jump over me, using his long legs to his advantage he gets to the stage in seconds grabbing the front of Dean's hoodie. I catch up quickly, glad we were close to the stage, I kneel in front of Dean his head lulling back. The loud noise of the crowd cheering becomes nothing but background noise, as I check his pulse my fingers against the side of his neck the steady but fast beating of his heart thumping below my touch.

With a sudden gasp his eyes shoot open, eyes wide and mouth agape.

I tap my foot impatiently on the clean floors of the hospital, thankful that right after testing I was allowed to be in the room. Dean looked better, he moved normally and his color was back, but we all agreed we should check officially. Now we were waiting and although the room sparked with anxiety, the dark looming cloud had cleared up a lot, and once we knew for sure it would most likely be gone. I just wished the doctor would come quicker. “So, you really feel okay?” Sam asks for the hundredth time since Dean woke from being healed yesterday. Dean stares at him blankly, “I feel fine, Sam” he grumbles.

Finally, the Doctor walks in, reading from the charts on his clipboard, “Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still strange things happen.” The cloud fades away, and I don’t hold back my beaming smile. “What do you mean, strange?” Dean asks, his face serious rather than elated. “Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack,” the doctor shares. Dean nods, giving the man a handshake, “Thanks, Doc.” The man leaves, closing the door behind him. “That’s odd,” Dean points out, referring to what the doctor said.

“Maybe it's a coincidence,” Sam shrugs, “People's hearts give out all the time, man.” I looked at him taken aback, what was he talking about, “Dude, what world are you living in?” He gives me a pointed look, annoyed with not only my response but also my not agreeing with him, “Do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life, Dean, and move on?”

“Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why” Dean bites back. I sigh, wishing we could just avoid this all, “Me neither.” Dean gives me a strange look, “You neither?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “I just, I don’t know, when we sat down I recognized something which automatically made me suspicious. Then you know the whole thing was happening and, well, maybe it was just nerves but it got really cold and I felt sort of sick. Which really doesn't make sense, but I just had this weird feeling, I don’t know.”

“I felt cold too,” Dean answers, face scrunched, “When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong, ‘cold. And for a second...I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, it was a spirit.” Maybe it wasn’t nerves and I wasn’t crazy. Sam huffs, clearly trying to ignore the red flags here, “But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately.”

“Alright, but he literally saw something and I felt something.” I reason, “You can’t deny two people saying something’s up, and whatever it was there’s probably a reason why you couldn’t see it.”

“You’re just gonna need a little faith on this one, Sam” Dean muses, using his own words against him. Sam sighs, finally giving in, “Yeah, alright. So, what do you wanna do?”

Dean steps into the leader role again, as if nothing had happened, “I want you to go check out the heart attack guy. Y/N, we’re gonna visit the reverend.”

I sit next to Dean on the nice leather couch, Roy sitting across from us. He and his wife had been very understanding and didn’t question our want to speak to him about yesterday, I figure he got this a lot. “I feel great,” Dean answers the reverend, “Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened.”

“A miracle is what happened,” Sue Ann, Roy’s wife and the woman from before answered, “Well, miracles come so often around Roy.” I gave her a half-hearted smile and nod, maybe it was just me but that response came off a little weird. I was getting a bad vibe from her, “So, um, when did these miracles start?” I ask Roy. Any desire to possibly learn from him had been subdued, caution taking its place. “Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.'” He smiled sweetly at his wife before continuing, “I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone.” He takes off his black sunglasses, his eyes pure white, “If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it.” He puts the glasses back on, it was a touching story and his eyes added a horrifying touch but it just left more questions.

He seemed genuine, and I don’t think he would lie about being in a coma. When you’re sick like that, and experience something like that, you don’t create lies about your experience, not when it was traumatic like that. And staying on that belief, there was no way he suddenly just stopped having cancer and was able to heal people. He couldn’t have been responsible for whatever caused his initial health change. Which would then mean someone else was involved. “So then, you could just…heal people?” I ask.

“I discovered it afterward, yes,” he nods, "God's blessed me in many ways.” It didn’t add up. I couldn’t get it to add up in my head. Besides the whole no more sickness ideal, how could he just suddenly heal someone? I mean, how do you even discover you can? Was it an accident? Did the hypothetical person who might have caused him to get better tell him too? Or, tell him to try? Whereas for me I knew it was something I was capable of in general as a witch, but I also had many spell books, history books, journals, and everything to learn from. And if my mother had lived longer she would have been able to teach me it too.

“And his flock just swelled overnight,” Sue Ann added, her eyes full of endearment, “And this is just the beginning.” I study her for a moment, balancing on the thin line of suspicion and paranoia. There was nothing inherently wrong about her or what she said, and maybe it was my mind making up the fact that her last words were just a little aggressive.

“Can I ask you one last question?” Dean asks, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “Of course you can,” Roy responded sincerely. He really does seem like a nice guy, genuine, and it could be my inherent lack of sleep that’s making me connect dots that might not even be there. “Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?” My heart broke. Of course he didn’t feel adequate, especially when he tried convincing us for the last four days he wasn't worth saving, that we should give up and let him die. I place a careful hand on his knee, I don’t want to scare him away or clam up again, he never was very open. “Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me,” Roy answers, “I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest.”

Dean wets his lips, my eyes flickering up to the movement, he leans forward slightly, “What did you see in my heart?” I move my gaze away catching on Sue Ann’s innocent movement of picking up her glass of water, but as she leans over her necklace escapes from its place beneath her shirt. A small wooden Celtic Cross held by a thin silver chain, she catches my eyes, covering the cross with her hand and giving me an innocent smile. She assumes I would think it's just any ol’ cross, she does run religious ceremonies so such a simple totem shouldn’t mean anything else. Maybe there were dots to connect after all, and it was on full display ready to be fastened. I focused my attention back on the conversation, I left my bag in the car so I’d have to wait, and in the meanwhile, I did not wish for her to get suspicious of me either.

Roy smiles softly, “A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.” I feel Dean tense beneath my hand, his face full of shock. Whether Roy did see something or not, it might have been the thing Dean needed to hear regardless.

I wanted to run back to the car and look through my spell book and journal, but Sue Ann was seeing us out and if I had easily become suspicious of her then it was possible she would grow suspicious of what I knew too. I could almost feel her gaze burning into the back of my head, but I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on Dean's warm hand on the small of my back leading me down the short wooden stairs of their porch. But I had not expected to see Layla and the woman she was with before, I think her mother. “Dean, Y/N, hey,” she greets. “Hey,” Dean responds just as we reach ground level, his hand pressing further into my back before curling around my waist, his hand lying on my side before he pushes me closer against him. I don’t know why he was being so touchy, not that I was exactly complaining. I welcomed it and the warmth it brought.

“How ‘you feeling?” She asks him, tilting her head slightly, her face beaming in sincerity. “I feel good. Cured, I guess. What are you doing here?” he responds.

“You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend.” Layla nods toward the door prompting Sue Ann to step fully onto the porch rather than standing halfway between the screen door. “Layla?” she asks, probably not having seen her from where she stood. “Yes, I'm here again,” Layla answers softly.

“Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now.” Sue Ann informed, nodding sympathetically. Every word she said just made me want to turn around and head to the car, I was itching for it. I wondered if Dean could feel it from where he was touching me or just sensed it, giving me a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. But I couldn’t exactly say anything right now so I ignored his look.

“Sue Ann, please,” Layla’s mom pleads, “This is our sixth time, he's got to see us.”

“Roy is well aware of Layla's situation,” Sue Ann declares harshly, “And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke.” And with that, she goes back inside. I might not know exactly what’s going on but her continuous frustrated comments regarding the healing and her perhaps overly religious nature were enough to make me antsy. We should really go to the car, call Sam to see what he found, or even just head to the hotel. Layla’s mom turns sharply to Dean, glaring at him she spits, “Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted.”

“Mom. Stop” Layla insists, looking at us nervously.

“No, Layla, this is too much” her mom fumed, “We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder.” I do feel bad for her, but it's not like we had control over any of this so she shouldn't be mad at us let alone Dean who was quite literally on his deathbed and might not have made it to the end of the week. I open my mouth to say exactly that, but Dean cuts me off before I get a chance, “Layla, what’s wrong?” he asks.

She looks everywhere but him, “I have this thing…”

“It's a brain tumor,” her mother cuts in bluntly, “It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say…” Layla cuts her mom off putting a hand on her shoulder. Maybe it was good Dean didn’t let me say what I wanted to, it would’ve been too cruel to do that to someone who was going to lose her daughter. It seemed like we were surrounded by death, more now than ever and I hadn’t thought that could be possible. I didn’t like death, or sickness though I suppose who does. “I'm sorry” Dean says, and I just nod in agreement not trusting my own voice. “It's okay” Layla responds softly. Her mother shakes her head slowly, “No. It isn't,” her sharp gaze is back on Dean, “Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?” Then she storms away, Layla hesitantly following. I know that woman was just upset and projecting her anger but it was not fair. Grief isn’t fair.

I look at Dean, his jaw clenched tightly, a slight furrow of his brow, his eyes a little far away in thought. I recognized that look. “Don’t listen to her” I declare, slipping from his hold to look at him straight on, “Death is not kind and it is not just, but you deserve to live. You deserve to live just as much as Layla or anyone else does. I know that look and I know you're thinking poorly of yourself, which I hate that you do so ‘cause you’re amazing and brave and kind and you care so much for others regardless of your gruff attitude.” His eyes are wide and written with shock but I continue, “So don’t think for one second that you don’t deserve to live.” I didn’t realize my chest was heaving, or that a lump had formed in my throat. I’ve watched too many people die, I’ve been down the rabbit hole of grief. I knew it well, it became a second skin. And I've watched someone run themselves into the ground because they didn’t feel like they deserved to live, or at least not when the love of their life was dead. I watched the evolution of that grief while dealing with my own and my brother’s. Death was not kind.

His jaw was slack with surprise and I know I said too much, I gave him a sharp awkward nod before turning around and heading for the car. I have something to look into.

Dean throws his keys on the bed the second we enter, the soft jingle of the metal ringing through the quiet room. I unzipped my sweatshirt, making my way towards Sam who sat at the small table to the side of the room. I take a seat next to him, putting my sweater behind me, “So what’d you find?” He seems hesitant to answer, his adam's apple bobbing, “Um, I’m sorry Dean” he says weakly looking up at his brother.

Dean takes his jacket off putting it on top of mine, his face written in confusion, “Sorry about what?” he asks, leaning on the back of my chair, his knuckles just barely brushing my back. Sam huffs out a breath, “Marshall Hall died at 4:17.” My eyes widened, I shouldn’t be surprised it was just another dot to be connected to whatever was going on with the damn cross. “The exact time I was healed” Dean adds solemnly, voicing what we were all thinking.

“Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits,” Sam explains, “Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.”

“Oh frick” I mumble, apparently nothing is allowed to be easy for us. And I wasn’t exactly expecting that to be what we’re dealing with. “Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?” Dean asks for confirmation, even though it’s clear that’s what’s going on. “Somehow. LeGrange…” Sam sighs, “he's trading a life for another.”

Dean stands up straight backing away from the table, from Sam, “Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?” Sam shakes his head, “Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.”

“You never should've brought me here.” Dean declares, running a hand down his face.

“Dean, I was just trying to save your life.” Sam reasons.

“But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me.”

“I didn't know,” Sam answers quietly.

I stand up abruptly, “Hey, there’s nothing we can do about that now. What’s done is done.” This all got very complicated very quickly, maybe Adeline was right you can’t save someone from death without making difficult decisions and sacrifices. “But what we can do is stop this from happening again, before it gets worse” I add and I know I don’t sound so convincing. You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies, and we had crossed that line whether intentionally or not, just wanting to save Dean from death was already putting a foot past that line. “That’s the thing I don't understand, how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?” Sam questions. “Oh, he’s not doing it,” Dean answers, “Something else is doing it for him.”

“Do you mean the thing with Sue Ann?” I ask with a tilt of my head, maybe he had picked up on it too. “What?” his face contorts in confusion, “No? What are you talking about?”

“Oh” I say, now I'm confused, “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“What are both of you talking about?!” Sam exclaims looking between us. Dean sighs, pinching the space between his brows, “The old man I saw on stage” he explains, “I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down I knew.” He pauses and I begin to wonder if it’s for dramatic affect. I motion my hand for him to continue and he does, “There’s only one thing that can give and take life like that. We’re dealing with a Reaper.”

“Pardon?” I say, my mouth agape. “Yeah,” Sam agrees, face just as shocked as I am, “You really think it's THE Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?”

“No no no, not THE reaper, A reaper.” Dean clarifies, taking the seat I once occupied, “There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them.” My mouth still hangs open, it can never be something normal with us, ever. “But you said you saw a dude in a suit,” Sam voiced.

“What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?” Dean countered, “You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you guys couldn't.”

“Oh my god,” I say, the realization finally hitting me, “That’s where it comes in!” Both boys stare at me confused, “Where what comes in?” Sam asks.

“Okay, remember I said I recognized something and thought it was a little strange,” I paused waiting for them to nod before continuing, “It was a Celtic Cross, which was all I could focus on the entire time ‘cause like what is it doing there. And then I started thinking of what it symbolizes, here’s the interesting part” I point out, “So basically, the Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension. The cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. Which now makes total sense with the whole Reaper thing.”

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m not following here” Dean admits. I huff a laugh, “Right. Let me get to the point. So, as far as I know someone has to control the Reaper to, you know, dictate who lives and dies and to do that you need a spell. And I’ve seen it before…” I head over to my bag that I had just plopped down right next to the door when we walked in, I pull out my spell book holding it up, “This book has been in my family for generations. Now as you know my mother and her family didn’t see eye to eye, so when it eventually became my mothers and she ran away she changed a lot of stuff in here, crossing things out etc.” I open the book, flicking through the pages, “Basically there’s some pretty dark stuff in here, straight up black magic, some stuff even ancient,” finally I find the page, “Aha!” I turn the book around pointing at the page, “As you can see by the frowny face in the corner my mother did not appreciate this spell. Anyways, this is a binding spell for a Reaper where you create a black alter with bones and human blood etc, you get the point. You can then control it with a Celtic Cross, and before I saw Sue Ann with the necklace.”

“So you think Sue Ann is using dark magic to control a Reaper and kill people to save people because you saw a necklace?” Sam asks. I close the book, “Yeah, and it makes sense she was desperate when her husband was sick. I don’t know how I didn’t think of this sooner.” I knew this page existed, I've seen it in passing multiple times, especially some time since Dean was in the hospital. I guess I did listen to Adeline’s warning because even though I was ready to go far to save him I had kept away from pages like this. “Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?” Dean points out. I shrug, “Money? She’s psycho? I don’t know, maybe there’s a connection with the victims.”

“How would we break it?” Sam voices.

“We gotta get that cross from her, the one around her neck” I answer, “And let me just add, that Reaper is gonna be pissed, I mean the second it gains back its control…” I don’t need to say it out loud for them to get what I mean.

The Impala bounces down the badly graveled and potholed road, passing a sign that says Service Today. Hopefully we will be just in time. Dean brings the car to a stop and wordlessly we exit, “How do we get Sue Ann alone?” Sam asks. I nervously tap the side of my legs as we approach the tent, some guy handing out leaflets stops us, “Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer.” Dean accepts the paper, “Amen brother” he nods. “You keep up the good work” Sam points at the man and he looks taken aback, he probably didn’t get many if any people that agreed. “Thank you,” he says, surprised.

Focusing back on the task at hand I open my mouth about to say something about not knowing where she goes when she does the spell when I spot her near the side of the tent, “I see her” I say already moving in that direction, “Find her spell book and keep Roy distracted too in case this does not work.” I don’t wait to hear a response before I’m running off to catch up with the woman playing God, “Sue Ann!” I call as I approach. She turns, her eyes wide, the necklace peeking out from her blouse, “Hi Y/N, what are you doing back here?” she asks sweetly.

“Oh well you guys are doing such amazing stuff here, wanted to say thank you one last time before we had to head off” I answered hoping my lie was believable. “Don’t thank us, you just thank the Lord” She says pointing to the night sky. I nod, I had to keep her talking long enough to figure out how to get the necklace off, “I have to admit I always had a hard time believing in the man upstairs, but you and Roy really turned me around.”

“Oh I’m glad, it’s never too late to welcome Him into your heart,” she smiles, “Now if you’ll excuse me I must get going, the sermon is starting.” Uh oh, do I just rip it off of her? No, she’s already turning around, “One last thing!” I call out getting her attention again. This time when she turns around she looks annoyed, “Uh, um…”come on Y/N come up with a lie or something, “I saw your necklace earlier today, I think you caught me staring,” I laugh, “I was just…I was wondering where you got it from I’ve never seen something like that before.” She clasps her necklace, “It’s just an old thing, I don’t remember where I got it from.”

“Could I maybe take a closer look at it? Maybe I can find a replica, you know, for my new found belief.” I was practically begging her to just let this be easy, maybe I should ask Dean to give me a lesson on finessing cause this is not working. She clasps it tighter, “I’m sorry, maybe later I really have to help with the sermon now.”

“Right, right sorry” she begins to turn around again but I call out again, “I know you said to thank the Lord and I have and will, it’s just” that gets her attention, “I feel like you and Roy are also responsible and like I said I came to thank you again…I know it’s maybe unprofessional or what not, but, could I just give you a hug? You’ve really done so much for us.” God I was bad at this. Her face softens a fraction, hey maybe I wasn’t bad at this, “Of course.” She holds out her arms and I move closer to allow myself to be embraced, I wrap my arms near her neck hoping she couldn’t feel the tension in my body. “Thank you” I say softly, all the while sneaking my hand to the clasp of her necklace.

She pulls away abruptly, once more grasping her necklace, “What is wrong with you!” she exclaims. I back up, hands up in defense, “After everything we’ve done to help you, healing your boy” she glares at me with wide eyes, “I never expected this from you Y/N.” I stare at her blankly, do I jump her? “You get out of here, before I call over those officers. Looks like your boy is already in trouble too. Disappointing, both of you.”

I look over my shoulder, Dean’s being pushed away by two cops and there’s a large crowd surrounding the tent including Roy. Maybe they evacuated. I turn back to Sue Ann but she’s already pushing past me, heading to the crowd. Oh no. Layla walks up to him next and she seems to be upset with him. How much did I miss? I rush towards Dean, Layla walking away, “What did you do?” I whisper yell. “You said to distract Roy!” he argues.

“I didn’t mean to get in trouble with the police!”

“‘Don’t matter, did you get it?” Dean asks with a quirked eyebrow. “No,” I grumble, “She caught me in my attempt and started lecturing me, I was thinking of just jumping her before she pointed out your run in with the police.”

“You were gonna jump the woman?!” He exclaims.

“I didn’t know what to do!!” I hissed, “And it’s not like I did it!” I let out a frustrated sigh, crossing my arms across my chest, “We need a new plan, where’s Sammy?”

“‘Think he’s waiting by the car, ‘hope he’s got somethin’ Roy’s gonna do a private healing session with Layla tonight.”

“Great,” I mumble, “I really should have jumped her.”

I sit criss cross applesauce on the hard motel bed. For a hunt that I knew so much about I had royally blown it. She was right there. The necklace right there. “Please tell me you found something helpful in their home” I pleaded.

“I found the spell book, written by a priest who went dark side,” Sam answers, holding up the small book, “And she isn’t just killing random people. She’s forcing the Reaper to kill people she finds immoral, from some teacher who was openly gay to a woman who advocated for abortion rights.” The room fell quiet for a moment, there were more layers to this than we thought. “May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work” Dean muses.

“No seriously that’s messed up,” I add, shaking my head. “Yeah,” Sam nods, “I think you should hold onto this book Y/N.” He hands it over and I hold it cautiously in my hand, “How nice.” I’ll probably spend the next couple of days reading it over before ultimately sending it home, I did not need a spell book on dark magic with me, didn't even need to own it but rather me than get in the wrong hands.

“We should head back soon” Dean says, “Layla could be there any minute”

The Impala rolls over the graveled road for the second and hopefully final time today, this time with total darkness cloaking us no lights on. We roll to a stop, “That's Layla's car. She's already here,” Sam points out.

Dean nods slowly, “Yeah.” He was upset, “Dean…” Sam began. But Dean ignores him, looking out the window instead, “You know if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gonna die in a coupla’ months.” I should’ve known my dramatic speech from before wouldn’t magically resolve him of his guilt, no one has that power. “What's happening to her is horrible,” Sam reasons, “But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God.”

Dean goes quiet for a beat before getting out of the car, Sam and I following. We approach the tent, peeking inside to see Roy speaking to a small group of people including Layla and her mom, “Gather round, please everyone, gather round. Come in closer, come on up.”

“Where's Sue Ann?” Dean whispers. I tried to crane my neck to look around the tent, maybe she was off to the side somewhere… “House,” Sam answers simply.

We creep up to the small house, weary of making too much noise we couldn’t afford to get caught, “You guys go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up,” Dean orders. I look at him confused, “Wait, what are you gonna—“ But Dean’s already backing away from us yelling, “Hey!” to two figures in the distance. “You gonna put that fear of God in me?” he yells out, of course he would be taunting the police. The officers drop what looks to be coffee cups before running after him, Dean taking off at full speed. Only he would do something so stupid. “Uh, anyways” I begin, “If she’s doing it at her house she’s probably by the altar, and considering the size and necessities of the thing and the fact her husband doesn't know it would have to be in an attic or basement.”

“I’ll offer you one better” Sam nods off to the side of the building, “a cellar.” He was right, that would be better. And on top of that definite light emerges from the metal doors. Sam leads the way opening up the heavy doors and propping it open as he makes his way down first. I follow suit immediately being hit with the sight that is the altar, a small table adorned with candle operas filled by tall burning candles, parts of dead animals, bones and blood sprawled out meticulously across the red table cloth. And right in the middle was a black and white surveillance photo of Dean before he was healed, the photo smeared in blood.

“I gave him life and I can take it back too” A familiar voice suddenly says. Sue Ann. I turn around hastily being met with cold eyes, behind me I hear a large crash and I don’t have to look to know Sam had flipped over the table. Her eyes flip to the scene and I use the initial shock to rush her, but she was already close to the stairs so it did not take her long to sweep up them slamming the cellar doors behind her. Something clicks and shifts, she must have locked us in here. Sam joins me at my side, pushing and fighting against the barred doors. “Can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked,” she reasons, “And Dean is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will.”

Oh, so that twisted psycho thinks that’s how it is. Well she messed with the wrong witch. “You're gonna wanna back up” I tell Sam. I press my palms to the cold metal of the doors, I’m pissed now. No one gets to use magic, let alone dark magic, on either of my boys. The doors begin to rattle harshly, almost as if there’s an earthquake, “Goodbye Sam, Y/N” she says. I put more force on the door, my entire being focused on it until it burst open bits of chipped paint and screws flying away, a satisfying break of the wood she used to block us ringing in my ears as broken bits of the wood come crashing back down.

Sue Ann stands but a couple feet away, her eyes wide as she watches me exit the cellar with shock and fear. She backs up further and I follow after her like a predator trapping its prey. “I-I read about things like you” she says weakly, her voice shaking. She keeps backing up, “You’re a—You’re a—“ her back hits the wall of a nearby trailer house. “Witch” I finished for her, yanking off that necklace once and for all.

I throw it off to the side, far away, and back up from her. My job was done and the Reaper would come knocking for its own revenge. “My God, what have you done?,” she heaves, pressing a hand to where her necklace used to be. “He’s not your God” Sam says cooly. Her head snaps to something in the distance, her face falls growing pale she must be seeing the Reaper. Then all at once she takes off running, not making it very far before she falls to her knees, her body convulsing once, twice, before falling to the ground. “I think we have just aided in her murder” I muse.

“Yeah…” Sam nods, “We should probably…” This time I nod, not saying anything as we walk away from the crime heading back in the direction of the Impala. We intercept Dean on the way, meeting at the car. I give him a small thumbs up to say we did it this time and he nods solemnly. “You okay?” Sam asks him.

“Hell of a week” he answers.

I glanced up from my phone for the fifth time in the last minute. I was trying to text Adeline to update her on everything but kept getting distracted by Dean's blank face as he stared off at nothing while sitting in bed. I made eye contact with Sam, giving him a sad smile, we were thinking the same thing. He turns to his brother, watching him for a moment before speaking, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Dean replies gruffly. Sam looks back at me again and I give him an encouraging nod, “What is it?” he asks again this time more gently.

“We did the right thing here didn't we?” Dean asks, finally breaking. It was difficult to answer him, on one hand we stopped someone from playing God and killing people who they found immoral in which none of the victims were bad people, it wasn’t like they were criminals but to her they were still wicked (god forbid someone has a different opinion than you). But on the other hand it was saving people, except to pay one life for another wasn’t exactly gracious work. Yet, we were doing the same thing, trying to play God and cheat death. I had even admitted to being willing to make great scarface’s to do so, in that aspect I wasn’t so different from Sue Ann in the very beginning.

“Of course we did,” Sam answers, and he really does sound sure. Dean sighs, hanging his head, “It doesn't feel like it.” Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and the parallel from only earlier in the week is not lost on me, “I got it” Sam volunteers getting up from his seat to open the door, “Hey Layla. Come on in.”

Huh.

“Hey” she waves awkwardly. Dean quickly rises from his place on the bed, “How did you know we were here?”

“Sam...called. He said you...wanted to say goodbye?”

Dean glances at Sam and I join in on the glaring, he really needs to start telling me things sooner. But he just smiles sheepishly, “I'm gonna...grab a soda.”

I stand abruptly from my chair, Dean should have his time with Layla. Maybe he won’t feel as guilty, “I’m gonna join you” I declare, “A soda sounds great!” I follow Sam out the door, closing it behind me.

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #john winchester #slow burn #dean winchester x witch reader #the hunter and the witch update #witch reader #the hunter and the witch #angst #light angst #celtic #supernaturalwiki #supernatural faith

75 notes · View notes

goldenseresinretriever · 5 months ago

Text

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You don’t see Jake again until the next day. Three days in and you’re up to your eyeballs in paperwork that Beau dropped into your lap this morning. You’re starting to understand why they call him Cyclone, he blows in and right back out, leaving you in perpetual chaos. Admittedly he got it for doing that on the ice and he’s actually an extremely reasonable person, you just don’t particularly appreciate getting swamped when you’re already booked full with the physicals. There’s only one way to get both done and that’s how you find yourself in your office working through your lunch break, trying to ignore the angry protests of your stomach after being on your feet all morning working through the last of the second line guys. You half expect the knock at your door, absently calling out to invite the knocker in, expecting Zam coming to investigate your absence from the unofficial girls' table in the break room. That’s why the southern drawl catches you off guard and your head whips up so fast you almost tumble out of your chair.

“Hey, Bugs.” Jake Seresin is standing in the doorway, holding a white plastic bag and a steel water bottle. “You got a second?”

You most definitely do not have a second but your patients come first so you rush to rearrange the paper chaos on your desk to clear some space, waving a hand at the chair opposite inviting him to sit. “Sure Jake, what’s up?”

He sits, his large body dwarfing the office chair and you do your best not to stare, the lack of food in your stomach must be making you mildly delirious. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday about trust, and you’re asking me to trust you. And not your title, you’re asking me to trust you the person if that makes sense?” You nod slowly. “And I was thinking that to trust you as a person, I can’t really do the blind faith thing. I can do that with a title because the title has implications, like because you’re a doctor I know you have over a decade of school and studying to back that title up. But I don’t have anything to trust you as a person because I just met you two days ago. You’ve done your research on me, you said so yourself, so I think I need to do my research.”

“Is this you asking for my Instagram…?” He laughs at that and this time you have time to appreciate how beautiful and full the sound is.

“No Bugs,” he chuckles, placing the plastic bag and water bottle on your desk. “This is me asking you to have lunch with me.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, sure.” You do your best to quiet the part of your brain that’s spiraling to figure out when you’re going to be able to finish all this paperwork. It’ll have to wait, you’re finally getting somewhere with Jake. He opens the bag pulling out a wrapped package and a plastic container.

“I didn’t know if you were more of a cheeseburger or salad person so I just got both.” You almost melt into your seat at the gesture. Before you can say anything, however, your stomach beats your mouth and growls so loudly you want to sink through your chair and die. Your cheeks flush as Jake grins. “Sounds like you’re a both girl.” He places the cheeseburger on top of the salad container and slides the stack across your desk.

“Thank you, Jake, seriously.” You stammer as you grab the cheeseburger with shaking fingers, doing everything to not rip the wrapper to shreds and devour half of it in one bite. “And for the record, I’m a cheeseburger girl.” You give him a shy smile as you bite into it, groaning.

He chuckles as he takes out three more cheeseburgers and starts on one as well. “And here I thought bunnies liked carrots.”

“Actually rabbits don’t naturally eat carrots. They’re too high in sugar.” You say around the cheeseburger in your mouth.

“Noted.”

You swallow. “So what do you want to know about me?”

“I guess let’s start broad. What made you want to do this, working with athletes? You mentioned you watch hockey in your spare time?”

“Yeah, I grew up watching the Ducks with my dad.” You smile at the memory. “Hockey is our thing, one thing we can always talk about, do together.”

“I bet he lost his mind when he found out you’re working with three former Ducks.” He says with a grin. You laugh at that.

“Are you kidding? The man lost his damn mind. He always said he’d never go to an NHL game that wasn’t an Anaheim game but he’s already got tickets for our season opener. The man worships Maverick.”

“Are the Ducks your favorite team too?”

You hesitate at that. Before it was easy to keep yourself separate from Bugs, they were two circles that didn’t overlap but there’s nothing professional about eating lunch with one of your patients in your office. You’re finally making progress with Jake and while you hate lying to him, you’re not sure now is the time to mention that you’re a super fan. “I’m pretty sure I’m contractually obligated to say my favorite team is the Dogfighters.”

“Good point.” He chuckles. So you love hockey, but there’s plenty of ways to work with it without being a physician, so why that?”

“Well I’ve always felt connected to the players on a team, so naturally it always hurt a little to see them get injured, and as a viewer, I hated that there wasn’t something I could do about that. Turns out there was something I could do. I’ve always loved taking care of people but being able to apply it to something that means so much to me is kind of like the sweetest possible deal. I like to think I have a unique perspective with hockey athletes specifically since I grew up watching and playing the sport, I feel like I know them.”

“Wait a second, you play hockey?” His eyes are glowing with excitement.

“Played, past tense. Just for a little bit as a kid, until high school. I never really had the build and body for it, so I played as long as I could before it got to a serious level and I couldn’t make the teams anymore. My dad used to coach a kids league so that’s how I started.”

“What position?”

“Goalie and that’s the only reason I managed to make teams for as long as I did. The body was less of a requirement next to flexibility and agility.”

“Like Bob?”

“Yup, just like Bob, but look at him, he made it to the NHL. It’s nice to see, I think I would have fought harder to keep playing if I’d seen a goalie like him.” You give a rueful smile. “But if I’d kept playing, I never would have found my calling for sports medicine so it worked out in a way. This way I understand what it’s like to be a player so I can level with my patients better because I understand where their coming from.” He nods, turning this new information over in his head.

“Any siblings?”

“Two older brothers.”

“Did they play hockey too?”

You nod. “My oldest brother played through college but didn’t get drafted so he went to law school for sports law and now he’s the one signing players. My other brother plays for the Predators.”

“Damn Bugs, you’ve got an NHL player in the family? No wonder you’re so chill around us.”

“Idiot boys are idiot boys no matter how much they get paid. My brother may play for the Predators now but that’s the same kid who had to get his stomach pumped at age six for eating two whole tubes of play dough on a dare.” Jake chokes on his burger as he laughs.

“Are y’all close?”

You nod. “We all work in different facets of the same sport so it keeps us pretty tight-knit.”

“So who are you gonna be rooting for when we play the Predators in November?”

You make a face. “Are you kidding? The Predators can’t play for shit.” Jake barks out a laugh at the disgusted look you throw his way.

“And the Dogfighters?”

“That remains to be seen. I still haven’t seen their star centre at the top of his game so I can’t form an opinion about them quite yet.” You give him a soft smile, hoping that it comes across like gentle encouragement instead of a cruel dig. He sighs and sits back and you’re afraid you’ve crushed the delicate bubble you’d just created. “I didn’t mean it like that, Jake, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.” You stumble over your words as you try to backtrack. Before Jake can respond, a knock sounds at your door and you call out for them to come in. Cyclone enters and you can’t help but wither a little at the sight.

“Cyclone, what can I do for you?” You give him a tight smile trying to ignore the way his eyes rove over the scene in front of him, Jake, the food, the pushed-aside paperwork.

“Bugs, I wanted to see if you’d finished up with the paperwork I dropped off this morning?” Finished? You’d be lucky if you were even halfway done. “I’m going to need those on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Sure thing, sir.” You chirp, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. You’re so completely, totally, fucked. Your afternoon is booked full with physicals, so you’ll have to stay late to finish the paperwork.

“Jake? What brings you here?”

“Just chatting, sir, getting better acquainted with the person responsible for my health for the foreseeable future.” Jake offers Cyclone a wide grin that’s pure charisma. He could charm the pants off a horse. Cyclone nods in response, turning back to you.

“Bugs, if you could come by my office when you’re done here I’d like to have a chat with you as well.” You feel your stomach sink. You know what this is about. Your mind falls back to the day of your interview and you grimace at exactly what Cyclone is insinuating.

“I’ll be right up, sir.” You miss the worried look that Jake gives you. His eyes scan the papers scattered on your desk as Cyclone leaves.

“Hey Bugs, did I interrupt your work?” He looks guilty.

“No! Well technically yes I was working on some paperwork but you’re my patient so you’re my work too, and either way, I was on my lunch break so legally speaking I wasn’t working either way. There was no way this was all getting done by the end of the day anyway.”

“But Cyclone just said-“

“It'll be done by the end of THE day, just not his day. I’ll just have to stay late to finish it up. I’ve got back-to-back physicals for the rest of the day after this. It's no big deal.”

He shakes his head, frowning. “That’s not fair, you shouldn’t have to do that. Doesn’t he know how busy you are?”

“You of all people should know life isn’t fair, Jake. We’re starting a team from the ground up, this may be the first late night, but I promise you it won’t be the last.” You start collecting your trash, already missing Jake’s company at the thought of your meeting with Cyclone. He’s deep in thought, still frowning. “Sorry to cut things short, but I do have to meet Cyclone before my next appointment.” Something pops into your mind that you’d meant to mention as Jake starts to clean up as well.

“Wait, Jake, I need to tell you something.” He looks up, and the seas in his eyes are calmer than you’ve ever seen them even as you see the question in them.

“What’s up, Bugs?”

“Bob knows.” He looks confused so you clarify. “About your leg…” you watch the walls slam back up in his eyes as he frowns, anger flooding into his face. “I didn’t tell him, I swear! He asked me about it yesterday during his physical. Apparently, he studied kinesiology in college and has been watching you and he noticed something was up.” You’re suddenly worried that you’ve made a terrible mistake in telling him but ultimately you thought it was the right decision.

“Fuck…” Jake runs an irritated hand through his hair and you watch the blonde strands stick up on his wake. “FUCK!” You jump at his raised voice and he turns to you at the movement. He must see the fear pass through your eyes because his shoulders slump and you see the same look mirrored in them. You come out from behind your desk, laying your hand on his absurdly large bicep.

“It’s okay, Jake. I know this is scary but you’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.” You add without thinking. He turns to look at you and you see the fear swirling in his eyes and it breaks your heart. “But your team deserves to know what’s going on, Jake. You owe that to them as a teammate and especially as their captain. You have to lead by example.” He nods silently.

“I know.” You’re not sure if you imagine the waver in his voice.

“I gotta go before Cyclone comes back down here looking for me, but you can take your time if you need some privacy.” You take a deep breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake, straightening your shoulders before grabbing your white coat from the hook on the back of your door, giving Jake a little wave as you leave.

***

The walk up to Cyclone’s office feels like walking through wet cement, but when you get there, the door is open and he’s waiting at his desk, lips set in a grim line. You close the door behind you, taking a seat across from him when he invites you to.

“Bugs, I was hoping we wouldn’t have to have this conversation at all, let alone three days into the job.” He looks frustrated and you can’t blame him but you also know he’s misunderstanding what he saw. “When I hired you, you made me a promise.”

“I know sir, and I’ve kept it. My relationship with Jake Seresin, if you can even call it that, is strictly professional. As the captain of the team, he’s expressed interest in maintaining a good relationship with me so he wanted to meet to discuss how the physicals have been going and lunchtime is the only free time we both have, currently.” You hope the lie sounds as convincing as you need it to as you silently chastise yourself for putting your hand on Jake’s arm earlier. It was unnecessary and unprofessional. Anyone could have walked in and gotten the wrong idea. You need to stop touching him so much, but you can’t help it. He’s like a magnet, and you’re helpless to his pull.

He nods curtly but doesn’t look convinced. “And how are they going?”

“Everyone I’ve finished with is in perfect condition.” This time it’s not a lie. Technically Jake hasn’t had his physical yet.

“Good.” He sighs. “Bugs, we’re not going to have a problem here, are we? I took a chance hiring you, you know that. There are multiple accounts that contrast the story you told me. You’re outnumbered and I still chose to trust you, I hope I made the right decision.”

“You did, sir. There won’t be any problems.” At least not in this department. You can’t imagine how he’ll react when he finds out his star goalie is injured.

“I hope so because if we do, I can assure you that you’ll never work in the NHL again, let alone in the hockey world.” You swallow, hard, glad that your hands aren’t visible where they’re tightly fisted under the table to contain your anger. This shouldn’t be happening, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with this, and yet you’re sitting here being scolded like a child for something that’s not even your fault, being threatened with losing everything you’ve worked so hard for, that you’re more than qualified to do.

“Yes, sir.”

“That will be all Bugs, I expect to see that paperwork on my desk first thing tomorrow.” You do your best to leave without looking like you’re actively fleeing the scene, but as soon as his office door shuts you’re practically sprinting back to your office. With the endless pile of paper on your desk, every second counts.

***

You glance at the clock as you grab what’s finally the last piece of paper on your desk. It’s a little after eight and honestly, you’re doing a lot better than you expected. You silently thank Jake’s lunch interruption or else you’d be positively delirious from hunger at this point. Even now, you can feel the all-to-familiar gnawing that comes after a hard day’s work. You’re thankful to be sitting after standing for pretty much the whole afternoon. By the end of the week you should be done with all the physicals except Jake’s, ahead of schedule you might add. You can’t find it in you to be proud, though, as you try to focus your brain enough to read the letters swimming on the page in front of you. Letting out an exhausted groan, you lay your forehead down on the table, as a knock raps at your door.

“Sorry, I’m almost done here, it’ll be good to clean in like twenty minutes!” You call out to who you assume is the cleaning crew, anxious to finish their jobs and go home like you.

“Good to know.” A familiar voice answers as the door swings open to reveal Jake, holding a pizza box. He’s got a backward cap on his head and a gentle grin on his face as he takes a seat in his spot across from you, placing the box on the table and you can feel the heat coming off of it as your mouth starts to water. You’re sure you’re making heart eyes at it as he opens it and helps himself to a slice. “I figured you probably hadn’t had dinner since you seemed so used to skipping lunch.” You give him an embarrassed smile as you finally pull your eyes away from the pizza.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He waves you off with his free hand. “What’re you still doing here, anyway?” You turn back to the pizza, selecting a slice and barely stopping the moan from escaping your lips as you take a bite.

“You said you were staying late and I wasn’t sure how safe that was so I figured I’d hit the gym and get some extra reps. No leg stuff, don’t worry.” He says misinterpreting your wide-eyed expression.”

“You stayed here for me?”

“I mean you’re staying here for us, so yeah. Plus, I owed you after interrupting your work earlier.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know I’m almost done.” You wave your free hand at the paper in front of you. “Last one!” He lifts his fist in a silent cheer as he chews. You wipe your greasy hands on your scrubs and turn back to the paper, and suddenly the words are legible again. You skim the text before adding some notes and signatures where necessary. You work in a comfortable silence punctuated by the sound of Jake’s chewing. Finally, you set down your pen and sit back in your chair with a sigh.

“All done?”

“All done!” You turn back to the box to see two slices left.

“Those are all yours, Bugs. You earned ‘em.” You smile shyly at him as you dig in. “So, how’d the meeting with Cyclone go?” He looks slightly concerned and you wonder why.

You shrug as you swallow. “Fine, I guess. He wanted to know how the physicals were going. At least I’m ahead on those, they should be done by Friday, except for you, that is. You have until the end of next week.”

“About that…” Jake looks at you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I think I’m ready.”

You almost fall out of your chair for the second time today. “Jake that’s great news! Thank you so much!” You pause to swallow. “Wait did you mean right now, right now, or like just generally ready?”

He chuckles nervously. “Just generally. You can fit me in whenever, I’ll be there.”

“I can do it first thing tomorrow if you’d like? Get it over and done with so you don’t have to worry about it anymore?” He nods at that.

“Yeah, that’ll work.” His eyes are fixed at some invisible point on the desk.

“Hey, Jake?” He doesn’t raise his head.

“Yeah, Bugs?”

“No matter what happens tomorrow, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He nods, still not looking at you. “It’s okay to be scared, you know? You just can’t let the fear paralyze you, you have to move through it.” He lets out a shuddering breath and you wonder just how long he’s been holding it.

When he speaks again, you almost don’t recognize his voice. It’s gravelly and full of fear. “What if you can’t fix it?”

“Then I’ll do whatever I can to make you more comfortable and we’ll move from there. There’s no scenario where things don’t change, I promise. I can’t promise how much I’ll be able to do until I’ve seen your leg.” He nods again.

“Everything changes tomorrow.”

“Everything’s already changed today.” You say with a small smile. “We had an actual conversation like sane human beings, we shared two meals, and you decided to trust me with your care. The hard part’s already over.” You watch his cheeks flex as he smiles too.

“Thanks, Bunny, I mean it.” You try to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster when he calls you that.

“Thank YOU, for trusting me.” The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you add. “Hey, Jake? You should talk to Javy. He loves you a lot and he’s really tearing himself up over this.”

He nods. “I know. We usually tell each other everything, I haven’t been fair to him.”

You stand. “I’m gonna run this paperwork upstairs if you want to grab your stuff to head out.” You stack the piles of paper in your arms, careful not to drop them, and Jake stands, holding open the door for you. You give him a smile of thanks before heading off to Cyclone’s office to drop them off.

***

You find Jake waiting with his stuff by the door to the parking garage. “Sorry, you didn’t need to wait!”

He shakes his head with a smile. “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m walking you to your car.”

“What if I’m staying late in an attempt to get kidnapped so I can sue for the money I need for my loans?” You pout up at him.

“I’d say you’re better off trying that on a team with more money.” You laugh. The only cars left in the garage are yours and a silver Ford F-150 that you assume must be Jake’s. “I’d say nice ride, Bugs, but what happened to the front?” He squats down to examine the scratches on your front bumper. “Oh, I hit Maverick on his bike.” His head whips up to gape at you.

“You WHAT?”

“Yeah, that’s actually how we met… He drove in front of me when I was pulling into a gas station. I was freaking out and told him I was a doctor so he’d let me check him out and then he offered me a job interview.”

“Damn Bunny, you’re a hustler.” You blush.

“HE drove in front of ME.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He stands back up. “I know a guy who could take a look at those scratches if you want?”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, they’re just scratches, it’s not worth the money, honestly.”

“I promise you, Mav can afford it. And remind me to never let you drive my truck.” You roll your eyes, unlocking your car and tossing your stuff into the passenger seat.

“Goodnight, Jake.” You say as you slide into the driver’s seat, rolling down the window so you can keep talking to him.

“Drive safe, Bugs.” He gives you a pointed look that says he means it.

You can’t help it, you stick your tongue out at him as you shift the car into reverse. Jake stays and waves you off until you can’t see him anymore. All in all, today was a success, you think as you pull out of the garage. Jake trusts you, except now you have a different problem. Can you trust yourself with Jake?

#san diego dogfighters au #San Diego dogfighters #San Diego Dogfighters hockey au #snitches get stitches // goldenseresinretriever #sgs // goldenseresinretriever #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #TGM #top gun #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #no use of y/n

51 notes · View notes

blank-slate-jay · 2 years ago

Text

Secret Admirer

Joel Miller X Male!Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Joel just met you and can’t keep his eyes off of you

A/N: Super busy lately, here's something a little short while working on some of my other Joel fics! Hope you enjoy!

Again he was on you, looking over you like you were some rare specimen; someone you’d rarely come across.

He couldn’t figure out what it was about you. Whether it was the way you carried yourself or the way you talked with Ellie, was intriguing to say the least. Only a day or two had passed of traveling to the Firefly statehouse base, and Joel was already feeling something for you. Some guy he knew very little of, other than you being a Firefly.

He had to be crazy. Being interested in someone so quickly, someone who was following a delusional group who tried ‘finding the light’ when you’re lost in the dark. He felt pity for you, and the girl too, wondering why you’d put your faith in them.

“You trying to tear into his pants or something?"

Joel’s eyes rip away from your lower half. He makes eye contact with Tess, who was walking beside him, his eyes furrowing at the sudden comment. He doesn’t keep his gaze on her long as he looks back ahead, making sure you nor Ellie heard her remark. “No.”

“I saw the way you were looking at him,” Tess implies.

Joel just shakes his head, trying to play it off as if he wasn’t looking in the first place. She wasn't stupid, both her and Joel had known each other for a long time. If anyone knew what was going through Joel's head it would be her. "Let's just stay focused. We need to stay alert for any infected." Joel wasn't fully wrong if it weren't for the fact that he was being a hypocrite.

Tess hums, "We should," putting a higher emphasis on her last word. It wasn't fully toward herself but rather to Joel. It was a moment for him to snap out of his fixation on you, to remind himself of the task they had ahead.

Transfer you and Ellie to the Fireflies, and he'd be awarded a vehicle and supplies.

It was everything he needed to finally get to Tommy. Thinking about his brother and what he was fighting for, made Tess's words strike him where it needed.

He wish it went that way, but things didn't play out the way he wanted.

Sometime later the group were continuing down the nature infested highway, finding multiple trucks lined up blocking the path forward. This didn't stop them from scaling the vehicles. Joel went first, with the help of you and Tess, they boost the man up til he grapples the the sides. Pulling himself up, he gets a view of the remaining highway. From the looks of it, everything looked clear and he notifies the others.

You help boost Ellie up til she's grabbed by Joel and do the same for Tess as well. You still remaining, jump up as high as you could, being pulled up by Joel and Tess until you were all on the same level.

Tess casually releases your hand, turning around to face the direction they were headed. Joel does the same too, his grip loosening hesitantly until he pulls away.

"Thanks", you said letting your arm drop to your side.

Joel just nods, looking down as you pass by him. He lingers too long with his hand, rubbing his thumb across his palm, almost like he wanted to feel it wrapped in his own again. He looked to you, standing next to Tess as she points ahead.

“We’ll cut off at the drop off point, should get us back on route.” Tess relays.

You nod along with Ellie, dropping down first so that Ellie had someone to catch her on the way down. You did so, preventing the girl from spraining her ankle. Tess drops while you finish helping Ellie, leaving Joel as the last one.

You offer to help him down, sticking your hand out is if the man needed immediate assistance.

“I got it,” he declines your aid, keeping his voice monotone.

You let the man be, stepping back some to give him room. He slips off the edges hitting the ground with a groan. His knees were not in they’re prime, slightly worn out due to his age. Bending down he grabs and squeezes them to ease the soreness. He could still see your silhouette, standing idle for…him?

The man tilts his head in your direction, confusion washing over him. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“You’ll be left behind though”, you say looking over your shoulder at the girls who were some yards away. Turning back to him, you notice his pained expression, “Is your leg alright? I have some painkillers if you need some.”

Stop. Stop. Stop it. He wanted to tell you to shut up, he wanted to tell you off. There was no way you, a stranger, were this considerate for someone like him; a man who had a gun to your leader, Marlene. You had to be doing this to get something out of him, you had to. Joel was trying to convince himself of that, cause no way anyone in this world was senselessly kind. Good people died two decades ago.

The man stares at you, reading between your eyes to see if there was some malicious intent behind them. Nope, none, all he saw was someone who was genuinely trying to help. Realizing this, he pulls himself together and stands up straight, "I'm fine".

You watch as the man tightens his rifle over his shoulders before nodding, "Alright". You turn, and continue down the road. Followed by Joel who stayed some feet behind you.

With Tess in front with Ellie, there was no one around to point out Joel's gaze. He catches himself staring at you longer than he should, looking away like someone was watching him. The silence didn't help either, Ellie and Tess's distance chattering barely did him any favors.

Maybe small talk wouldn't hurt, being on good terms with a firefly might make their trade with the outpost that much easier. The man was kidding himself, surely.

"Where you from," he started, catching you off guard.

You turn your head to him, "Hmm?"

Joel repeats himself, "Where you from?"

"Oh.." you murmur. You answered, receiving a nod from him as a response. Joel falls quiet, not being the best at carrying out a conversation. You on the other hand kept things rolling, "What about you?"

"Texas."

You pursed your lips, "Figured." The man raised an eyebrow, "It's the accent.” you assure him. “So were you like…a cowboy back then? Do you ‘yeehaw’ whenever your on a horse," you smile attempting to make the conversation somewhat engaging. All you got was Joel’s expressionless face, either he had no sense of humor or he refused to cave into your banter.

You turn your gaze away from him, the awkwardness gets the better of you. Sighing you wanted to cool the tension. You whisper, “tough crowd.”

Joel simply squints at you. He notices you talked the same way with Ellie as you did with him. Just freeing, and openly, like no care in the world. To him it was more weird than anything, with that kind of openness you could get yourself killed. But on the other hand, that kind of behavior draws people in. That was probably what was happening, mixed in with how good you looked, he almost felt it was a trap of some kind.

Joel reflected on it, all the way until the 4 of you were standing atop of a building; the sun shining upon you all. With Ellie standing to his left and you on the other side of her, he pictured it, being together. It was a quick flash in his mind, but it still hit like a truck. To have a family again, he’d kill for it.

Tess informs the group to follow her, as she descends a rough ladder. You and Ellie follow, leaving Joel behind. He gazes down at his watch, pondering on it momentarily, did you really have to part ways? So soon?

#joel miller x male reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel x male reader #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller #tess the last of us #ellie the last of us #tlou #joel miller hbo #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #x male reader #pedro pascal

377 notes · View notes

luvneymar · 2 years ago

Text

(4) THE OTHER CHOICE — NEYMAR JR

SUMMARY: When Davi went to visit his grandparents for the week you and Neymar decided to use it to reconcile from the arguments you had.

“Princesa just listen to me, it just a heat in the moment type of thing I didn’t assume we’d actually get married at the alter.” Ever since last night when Neymar had dropped the bomb on you with the alter comment you both have been fighting. Passionately fighting.

You sent Davi to his grandparents house so you can argue as loudly as you needed without scaring him. Despite being quiet angry, that didn’t mean you lost your sense of rationalization & common sense despite what Neymar thinks.

You begun to argue first thing in the morning by sleeping as far away from each other as possible on the bed, then blocking his good morning kiss with your hand something you haven’t done ever, then rolling your eyes & scoffing whenever he tried to talk to you. You knew how to get under his skin & it worked.

Even with all that he still followed you to the bathroom as you brushes your teeth together in complete silence, joined you in the shower, got dressed with you & helped you make breakfast for your son & sent Davi off with a kiss on the cheek all the while you continued to argue sending passive aggressive & indirect messages to the other though him.

“I just can’t see why we can’t do an church wedding, and then do a wedding where you’d like.” Neymar tried to reason with you as he provided a reasonable solution but you just weren’t trying to hear it, you couldn’t understand why what you wanted had to be the after thought.

“Why does the wedding that I want have to be second? Or the after thought?” You scoffed as you argued back turning around to give him the dirtiest look.

“You’re being a child right now you realize that right. I’m arguing with a child.” Neymar deadpanned looking at you with “are you serious” eyes.

He sighed before continuing, “You’re not seeing the bigger picture though. We’re having two weddings because we have different ideas of what we’d like for a wedding not because your ideas are less than.”

“No, no.” You said firmly, “You don’t get to do that. I know how important your Christian faith is to you but you should know how important mine is to me!” You lectured him waving around the spatula you were going to scrambled the eggs.

As you turned around you breathed out heavily, sliding your hand onto your stomach discreetly feeling your baby kick. “Sorry, baby. Your daddy’s stressing mommy out.” You whispered hoping Neymar wouldn’t notice knowing he gets so scared whenever he thinks there’s something going on the baby.

“I do know how important it is to you! Why do you think we’re having two weddings (Name)! God, I hate when you do that.” Neymar grit his teeth as he placed the cutlery on the table gripping one of the cups so much he almost broke it.

It felt actually ironic being in a situation of gaslighting 101, even though you both were gaslighting each other. “Do what? Stand up for myself? Not let you walk all over me? It’s exactly what you did before and you’re still doing it now!”

Neymar drops the juice jug he was holding and begun to wave his hands around dramatically trying to explain his point. “What did I do other than care for you and our son? What did I do other than-”

“You were- are controlling! You are controlling! You want to control everything!.” You sighed shaking your head before continuing. “When I was pregnant with Davi you and your controlling family told me what to do, when to do what, where to go when, with no explanation simply to cover your image, cover your ass. I’m not the same person I was at 17 years old, I’m not gonna let you do this.”

“No, you don’t get to do that. Don’t bring my family into this. Especially my mom since she’s been so good to you.” Neymar waves his finger at you from across the room.

“So good?” you laughed at the irony, you basically had to alienate Davi and yourself from Neymar’s family to even get them think of you as family.

“I had to fight by force by fire to get them to even look at me. Your mom would take Davi and refuse to give him to me, your sister would try to get him to call her mommy even when I was in the room, they both forced their way into the delivery room?”

“Wow.” Neymar poked his tongue into his cheek, “I didn’t know you felt like that about my family, your family, Davi’s family.” Neymar looked hurt at the things I just said about his family.

“Well how would you? Everything has to be about you at all times. You say you don’t like conflict but attitude says much different.” You look at Neymar with a tired look in your eyes before plating the over cooked eggs along with the other breakfast foods and went upstairs.

“There’s your breakfast, I’m going back upstairs.” Too upset to even eat he followed you trying to get more information out of you. He knew you didn’t do so well meeting his family especially since you had to build your own success and career by the skin of your teeth.

“Ney will you let it go. I don’t even want to see you right now let alone argue with you.” Avoiding his angry green eyes took so much effort because he you knew arguing wasn’t something he liked to do. But God was he good at it.

Neymar watched you and you moved across the room grabbing clothes from on drawer then the next grabbing under garments. “Where are you going?”

“Non of your business Neymar.” You answered shortly. he moved in-front of you and grabbed the clothes in your hands stopping you from putting in the duffle bag.

“It is very much my business you’re the mother of my child, carrying my daughter & the love of my life. It very much is my business.” Neymar was very firm with what he said and made you

“Incase you forgot I am still capable of taking care of myself.” You glared at him yanking your hand away before continuing to pack a bag.

“No. You’re not going anywhere. You’re 8 Months pregnant now and still the love of my life if you’ve forgotten. If anything happens to you I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” Neymar holds the handle of the duffle bag you’re zipping up pulling it away from you.

“Then why don’t you treat me like it?” You yelled out voice cracking from the tears forming in your eye. “Why Ney? I gave up everything for you. I gave up the one thing I was excellent at for you! To raise our son so you can still play football.”

“Are you calling our son a mistake, do you regret having our son?” Ney raised his eyebrows at me thinking I was admitting to some secret I was hiding for the past 5 years.

“No, never I love Davi with my whole body and soul he’s a miracle to me. I’m just saying you got to keep your shiny footballer title & got a son in the process but I had to pick either or.”

“Then go back! Go back & do the thing you love again. I will support your every step of the way.”

“But I cant! A newborn and a toddler will make it impossible. I’m happy where I am. I just want to be respected by you. I feel like you don’t see me as an equal.”

“But I do. Princesa I do. Hell you’re not even my equal you’re much more than that you’re everything to me. You’re where my happiness lies.”

You scoffed at that line, he always seemed to pull that line whenever you were in an argument. It was sweet and first but now it’s just manipulative. “I need some space from you Neymar, I hear you but I need space. So please. Leave. Now.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.” I shortly replied before packing the last pair of underwear and leaving the bedroom. You grabbed the duffle bag out of his hand and begun walking away. I loved Ney with my whole heart it’s just hard sometimes.

“If I’m not back by the end of the week, you can come find me.” you walked down the hallway and towards the front door looked back at Neymar and saw his eyes well up with tears, it broke your heart to see him like this but if you even 1 step back to him you’ll never set boundaries.

Neymar walked up to you before you exited the door and kissed you on the forehead, before watching you walk away. It broke both of your hearts but it’s what you needed. “I love you.” We’re the last words you both muttered under your breath with the other one unable to hear it.

← prev [ neymarsluv! ] next →

#neymar! 🫶#neymar x reader #football imagines #neymar domestic #neymar fluff #neymar jr #neymar junior #neymar one shot #football #football fanfic #football x reader #neymar imagines #football oneshot #neymar jr imagine #neymar #ney #neymajr #neymar smut

781 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 1 year ago

Note

Hey can I make a Matt Murdock request. It's Matt and reader's wedding day, and Matt remembers how you met in st. Agnes , the little adventures you had and how sister Maggie caught you trying to sneak out which sometimes worked out

I want to apologize for taking so long to write this! I'm so sorry. I just spent the past four hours pouring my whole soul into this because this request was just so beautiful... Like seriously, I have tears in my eyes. I listened to a lot of love songs while writing this, and I hope I could match up with your expectations. Thank you for your request and enjoy! <3

You Are The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: On the day of your wedding, Matt thinks back to your time together at the orphanage.

Warnings: None. Tooth-rotting fluff. (not proofread though)

Word Count: ~6.8k (oops)

The church bells play an all too familiar tune. It echoes off the high walls that are adorned with colorful paintings and stone sculptures that are as old as time. Clinton Church stands taller than he is, but he doesn’t feel suffocated by it, not today.

Matt Murdock grew up on religion and has lived by his faith in God ever since. He fell into several dark holes over time, but he crawled out of them and he picked himself up again. He played this tiring game for a while. He never felt like he truly belonged anywhere. He was lost. And then you stepped back into his life.

After his father died and he was taken in by the St. Agnes orphanage in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt had more than just his grief to deal with. The accident that blinded him a year prior turned his life upside down and no one knew.

His father knew he was blind, of course, but no one knew about how he could suddenly smell or hear much better than before, and that it was worse than the usual enhancement of one’s senses after becoming blind. His senses became heightened to the point he could pick up everything around him with his ears, nose, and hands alone.

It has been the most exhausting experience, especially as a little boy, he thought about giving up many times because it confused him and it made him bitter, and then his father died and the only person he could trust was gone, too.

He felt so utterly alone, he had nightmares, he was traumatized and the children at the orphanage didn’t like him much, either. He was a broken boy, and he had no one to turn to but the sisters taking care of him. But after a while, even that support stopped when more children arrived, and he chose to fight this battle on his own. He didn’t want to bother anyone. He was lonely, but he accepted that he just wasn’t that important and that sometimes, life goes a certain way.

Matt told himself God blinded him for a reason. He tried to find a purpose in his heightened senses and whatever else came with the accident and his father’s wrongful death, but with each passing day in this small bedroom with the church bells ringing in the background, causing his head to spin with their audacity, he lost more and more of the hope he swore himself he would keep. He wasn’t just alone, he adopted this feeling of loneliness and ran with it, turning more and more into an outsider. But he also had nothing to show for himself as the other kids did. He was blind, he was different, and that was never appreciated.

One day though, after spending most of his time hiding away in a corner, listening to the people around him and judging them in his own way, a set of small footsteps approached where he was sitting in the garden behind the orphanage.

He remembers the way your dress brushed against your tights, a sound he found annoying and painful at first, but he quickly got used to it. He remembers how you walked up to him with almost determined steps after Sister Maggie showed you the way and dropped you there for you to explore. He remembers your little sigh when you realized how far away he was from the other kids, but you didn’t turn around and leave when you noticed his black-rimmed glasses or the cane next to him.

You stopped in front of him, and Matt did not once forget the sound of your voice when you first spoke to him, “Is this seat taken?” he remembers you asking, and you sounded a lot nicer than the other children.

He frowned, at first, because he wasn’t used to being talked to. He figured you must be playing with him. But you didn’t stop there.

You chose to sit down next to him, and you smiled when you said, “I like your glasses, by the way.”

He remembers turning his head in your direction, signaling he was listening. You took that as an invitation to introduce yourself. Your name rolled beautifully off your tongue, and he stored it away instantly, along with the sound of your voice.

“I’m Matt,” he chose to tell you.

You smiled even brighter and took his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Matt,” you said.

Eight years, that’s how long you stayed. And during those eight years, you became inseparable. He confided in you about his heightened senses, and when Stick came around and left as fast as he had appeared, you were the one who picked up his broken pieces.

The first field trip you took together was to Central Park. The sun was shining brightly that day. Sister Maggie and some of the other nuns accompanied your group, and you quickly found your spot next to Matt. It was the first time he wasn't stuck with an adult during a day out, and he was so flustered, he remembers forgetting his words when your cheery nature found a place next to him.

Your heart has always been a steady sound in his ear, and back then, it grounded him whenever he had to face situations that made him uneasy. Field trips held so many different sensations that overwhelmed him, and he often felt as if his disability wasn't taken very seriously, but with you by his side, he could actually feel the sun on his skin rather than the heavy lump in his throat. He didn't want to cry on the way there; he listened to the beautiful sound of your voice, your laughter, and your excitement both infectious enough to make him smile, and it's something he swore he would always cherish. You had a talent, and he was the only one you used it on.

“Hey,” he remembers you saying when he was hiding away at the back of the group once again. You reached out to gently take his hand. “Don't worry, I'll be your guide today,” you said.

It wasn't pity, you actually enjoyed doing this for him. Even though it was hot outside, he ignored the sweat simply to hold your hand.

“What if…I get lost?” he remembers asking you, and you laughed at that-

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I've got you. Trust me.”

As you strolled through the park, you described everything you saw. You walked him through it the way you saw it, and he imagined how the world looked like through your eyes.

“The sky is so blue, Matt,” you said, pointing upward. “It stretches out like an endless canvas. And the clouds are little white specks of color that take different shapes wherever you look.”

Matt tilted his head, a small smile gracing his lips. “I wish I could see it.” It was the first time he actively admitted it to you, and your heart broke a little.

“But you can feel it,” you instantly tried to make him feel better. “The warmth of the sun on your skin, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair. You can smell the flowers. It's all there. Sight is so overrated, anyway.”

He stored your advice for another day, knowing that you weren't wrong. Next, you stopped near a bed of colorful flowers. You crouched down and reached out, picking one. The scent seemed familiar.

“Close your eyes and breathe in,” you instructed, holding the flower near his nose.

Matt followed your guidance, inhaling the sweet scent. “It's… it's beautiful,” he said.

“You see, Matt,” you said, “Beauty isn't just in what we see. It's in the little things we discover along the way.”

For someone who lost so much, you were a true optimist. You breathed fresh air into his life.

With each step, you continued to describe the vibrant colors, the rustling leaves, and the laughter of children in the distance. Matt's trust in you grew, and he found solace in the world you painted for him.

Of course, he could hear, smell and feel everything down to the smallest detail, but the way you described it was so different from the picture he had painted before, and he let you change his perspective. Your view of the world was much more beautiful than his, and he rather lived in a fairytale than take everything too seriously. With you, he could be himself. That was the first day he came to that realization, and his loneliness slowly started to die out.

That day, as you explored the park hand in hand, Matt realized that his blindness didn't define him. With you by his side, he discovered a newfound appreciation for the world and the beauty that could be found in even the smallest details.

The months passed by and turned into years, and you grew closer as friends. During the times you were allowed to play together, you never left each other’s sides, much to some of the nuns’ dismay, but Sister Maggie was the one who encouraged Matt to tie himself to you so he wouldn’t be as alone, and he gladly did it every time. She saw something in you that he could feel with every one of your fleeting touches and the sound of your voice, and your friendship became a lifeline he kept holding onto. But he was yours, too, which you told him many times before, and he told you he would be more than happy to show you the world through his senses. He made you feel seen and appreciated in a way no one has before, a job he took seriously enough to somehow take permanent residency in your life–but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The summer sun beat down on the small group of children from the orphanage as you made your way to a nearby lake. Sister Maggie never struggled to control the group and she was one of the nicer sisters who allowed you to do silly things others didn't, so you often used that to your advantage.

Being friends with Matt for three years, you gradually figured out who he is, and in return, you revealed parts of yourself. You were the duo most kids feared, which was one of the reasons why the boys stopped picking on him, and the girls had never even dared to say a bad thing about you. Still, you were the weird outcasts who always hung out together; you both prided yourself on that title and often made fun of it.

Laughter filled the air as you excitedly chatted about the day's adventure. Matt walked beside you, his cane tapping gently on the ground. His other hand rested on your arm. He didn't need it, he once admitted to you, but he still felt safer and more grounded, knowing he could hold onto someone in case something happened.

As you approached the shimmering lake, you couldn't help but notice Matt's hesitance. You turned to him with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, Matt,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. “Remember the promise we made when we were little? That we'd jump in a lake together someday?”

Matt's lips curled into a shy smile. “Yeah, I remember. But… I can't swim,” he said. “What if something goes wrong?”

You patted his back reassuringly. “You're not alone, are you?”

With newfound determination, Matt nodded, placing his trust in you once again. The cool breeze kissed your cheeks as you waded into the lake, the water lapping at your feet.

You turned to Matt, splashing water playfully. “Come on, Matt! The water feels amazing!”

He remembers the goosebumps on his skin, the eagerness in your voice. His uncertainty melted away when you reached out to help him inside somewhere he could stand, and he felt a little less scared about his ability to control the setting. With hesitant steps, he followed you, the soft sand beneath his feet giving way to gentle ripples in the water.

As you both ventured deeper, you guided Matt's hand to your shoulder, urging him to relax and float. “Just trust me,” you said.

Little did you know that he trusted you with his life already.

He took a deep breath, his body relaxing as he felt the water supporting him. A surge of joy filled your heart as you watched his confidence grow. You took his other hand, spinning in the water together, laughter echoing across the lake. He might have been standing on the sandy ground of the lake, but it still reminded him of the times his father took him to the pool. Sharing this moment with you felt… different, but in a good way, and he slowly started to warm up to the idea of enjoying a day in the water. You were always careful with him, and he knew you would never let him drown.

Time seemed to stand still. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the tranquility of the lake. The other children moved into the background, and Sister Maggie's pleas for you to be careful or even better, get out, met deaf ears as you got lost in each other's eyes. You were only twelve then, but it was like that day changed a lot in the way he felt about you, which is why he remembers that day vividly, still. You made him feel so alive that day, and it's a feeling he still gets whenever he looks into your beautiful eyes.

Matt's voice broke the peaceful silence, barely above a whisper. He said your name softly, something that always managed to make you smile. “This feels… it feels like a dream,” he said.

The warmth of the sun on your face mirrored the warmth in your heart. “No, Matt, this is real,” you told him. “This is our moment. And it's ours to keep.”

As you floated side by side, surrounded by the serenity of the lake, you both realized that this connection, this friendship, was something precious and unbreakable. Life without you seemed like an impossibility to him.

One month turned into twenty-four. You were teenagers, he remembers when your mischief took on a new size. You would appear in front of his door at random hours of the night, tapping on his door three times, before leaning against the wall. He would put on his shoes and grab his cane before making his way outside.

The first time it happened, he hissed at you, “Are you insane?! What if we get caught? Sister Maggie would ground us for the rest of our lives! Oh God–”

You cut him off with a giggle and told him, “We only live once, Matthew, and I am tired of spending every last minute of my life in this place. I wanna live! Please, just trust me. I have a plan.”

And from there on, you would sneak out any other night. You always found spots in nature for you to sit down and talk without people around. You shared stories, laughed, and cried together, and it worked as glue. You became even more inseparable.

Sometimes, you would take him to the lake, sit down with him and describe the night sky to him. You would point out constellations, tell him the meaning behind them and fantasize about life beyond what you could see. He was quick to dispute it because there could only be one God, so there couldn’t be any other universes out there, and once again you only laughed.

You both had a different take on religion; he’s always considered you a dreamer, and you never changed, which he found endearing because you believed in what you wanted to believe in, always. And you made sure you always got what you wanted.

You always snuck past Sister Maggie’s room and made it back in time. It worked almost always, except for the days when someone else was in charge of supervising you, and then you would have to wait until everyone was asleep to tap a steady rhythm against the thin wall of your dormitory.

The sole reason you learned Morse code was to communicate with Matt, knowing he could hear you wherever. In a time before everyone had a cell phone, it was your way of staying in contact.

A few more years passed. You both started maturing, growing up, and going through changes. Life became harder, but you stayed together. Your friendship blossomed, you continued to sneak out, and the one-time Sister Maggie caught you, she simply rolled her eyes and sent you back to your rooms.

That one pivotal night though when you were both sixteen and carefree, the night shimmered with an air of excitement as you sat by the peaceful lake by the orphanage, engrossed in Matt's animated storytelling. His voice had dropped sometime over the past year and it was a sound that would always send shivers down your spine.

He was full of enthusiasm as he shared the details of his latest discovery while he was doing research for a school presentation. You found yourself focused on his hands and his lips rather than the story, and the sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine. When you looked into his eyes, his glasses long discarded, you seemed to realize something, and the silence from your end alarmed your friend.

Amidst the excitement in his voice, a new realization took hold. Matt was more than just your best friend; an undeniable connection went beyond friendship.

Caught amid this realization, you found yourself lost in the features of his face, your mind spinning. Matt's voice trailed off, and he noticed your gaze fixed on him, a puzzled expression crossing his face.

“What's wrong?” he asked. “Is there something on my face?”

Your mind raced to catch up with your feelings. Without uttering a word, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips against his. It was a spontaneous and slightly awkward first kiss, but Matt remembers every last second of it.

For a moment, the world paused, and you both froze, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. Uncertainty hung in the air, but then Matt's hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. He traced your features, and they were so vulnerable and delicate that night.

He remembers swallowing, the panic that sent the blood rushing to his cheeks, and the strange change in the rhythm of your beating heart. “I, uh…” Matt tried to find the right words, but his mind was blank. Your lips left a tingling sensation on his own, and he somehow couldn't comprehend what was happening to his body. It was confusing. “That was… unexpected,” he said.

You felt mixed emotions swirling within you, but the desire to explore this newfound connection outweighed any awkwardness. Without hesitation, you leaned back in and kissed him again, this time more confidently, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

The awkwardness quickly melted away when Matt finally realized what he wanted, too. Your lips moved in harmony, exploring the tender and unfamiliar territory you found yourselves on.

The touch of Matt's lips against yours sent electric currents through your veins, and the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you.

Eventually, you pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed.

“I… I don't know what to say,” he confessed.

You smiled at him. “Do we need to say anything?” you retorted.

Matt remembers the exact moment he realized that he fell fast and hard for you; it wasn't the kiss that proved his feelings for you, it was what happened after. You looked at him, brushed a strand of hair out of his face, and told him, “You're beautiful, Matthew. Inside and out.”

And that was the moment he first knew he loved you more than just a best friend. He would have walked through fire for you, and it was never a doubt in his mind. The realization hit him hard, but he somehow never questioned it. He realized he loved you, and from that moment on, he rolled with it.

Matt remembers that he only acted after hearing you say those words. He told you, “Says the most beautiful girl in this godforsaken place.”

He gently pulled you back into his embrace, his lips finding yours once more. You couldn't even berate him for the blasphemy because he was right, and you smiled against his lips; this was the day you both finally found a home.

A few years had passed since that fateful night by the lake, and your bond with Matt grew stronger.

On this particular night, you found yourselves drawn to the library. The quiet stillness of the space provided a temporary escape.

As you settled into a hidden corner, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the window. You found solace in each other's arms, curled into a corner on the window sill. Matt's arms were wrapped around you and he held you as tightly as he could.

His lips ghosted over yours and you kissed back. He sighed into your mouth, his large hand on your cheek holding you right there. “I wish I could stay with you,” you murmured.

He nuzzled his nose against yours. “You know that's not a good idea,” he said.

“Why though?”

“For one, we'd get caught and two,” his hand stopped at your neck, feeling your pulse jump and he sighed, “I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Your cheeks flushed a bright red, and just as you're about to kiss him again (damn his silver tongue), he stops you with the same hand that's on your throat. “Sister Maggie,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see Sister Maggie standing at the entrance of the library, her expression a mix of surprise, disappointment, and disapproval. The realization of the rules you were breaking washed over you.

You shot up into a sitting position and Matt followed suit. You had never been so ashamed in your entire life.

Sister Maggie's eyes flitted between you and Matt. The disapproving silence hung heavy in the air before she finally spoke.

“You two,” she said. “What on earth are you doing?”

“We, um…” You bit your lip. “We weren't doing anything, I promise!”

Matt quickly adjusted his shirt and agreed, “We're so sorry, sister.”

He remembers faintly how she lifted her finger. “I expected better from the two of you,” she continued. “As young adults, you should understand the importance of adhering to the rules and maintaining appropriate behavior within these walls. And in front of God? I taught you better than that! Up, both of you!”

Neither of you hesitated to get off the window sill. She approached you both. “Now, I suggest you both leave this library immediately and return to your rooms. There will be no further discussions about this matter.”

Her words cut deep, but you tended to forget where you were living sometimes. You exchanged a glance.

“You're lucky it was me who found you,” she said. “Now go! I don't want to see either of you wandering these walls at night ever again, are we clear?”

You nodded wildly. While you said, “Yes, Sister Maggie,” Matt found himself at a loss for words.

Without uttering another word, you followed Sister Maggie's order, slowly making your way out of the library. Each step felt like a punishment, he remembers.

Her actions had made it clear that the boundaries between friendship and romance were not to be crossed within the confines of the orphanage. You had to live with that.

Though once you were out of her earshot, your giggles filled the hallway, and Matt pinched your arm. “It's not funny,” he whispered.

You couldn't help but giggle again. He's always loved how you could laugh about everything. “I know, I know,” you said to him, trying to stifle your laughter. “But the look on Sister Maggie's face… I can't help it.”

Matt shook his head. “You're going to get us into even more trouble if you don't stop.”

You sobered up, realizing the truth in his words, and you both fell into a comfortable silence as you walked back to your rooms. The echoes of Sister Maggie's disapproval still lingered, a reminder of the boundaries that governed your lives.

As you reached the hallway that led to your respective rooms, you paused, facing each other. The dim light from the hallway cast soft shadows on your faces. You longed for him. Just one night with him would have fixed both of your sleep habits and it would have done you good, but you knew you had to part ways. It hurt, but it was a reality you came to live with.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I didn't mean to get us into trouble.”

Matt's expression softened as he reached out to gently touch your cheek. He made sure no one was around so he could touch you one last time, at least. “It's not entirely your fault,” he said. “We both got carried away.”

You nodded. “We should be more careful. We don't want to risk getting separated, do we?”

Never, he remembers thinking. Getting separated had sounded like torture then. “You're right,” he agreed. “We'll have to be more cautious from now on. It's not worth putting our future at risk.”

A mixture of disappointment and longing settled in your heart as you prepared to part ways for the night.

You hoped your relationship could survive this.

With a lingering touch, you both turned and retreated to your respective rooms, the weight of the night's events etching themselves into your memories.

You both knew the boundaries were in place for a reason and though it pained you, you were willing to respect them. You had to. You grew up there. The stolen moments and the unspoken promises would have to find solace in the hidden corners of your hearts until the time was right to let them flourish fully. At least that was what you told yourselves for the following 365 days.

When you turned eighteen and finished school, everything changed. Matt remembers that day as trauma, and maybe it partly was.

One day, as you returned from school, Sister Margaret approached you with a warm smile, handing you an envelope.

“Congratulations, dear,” she said. “A letter from Stanford arrived for you today.”

You froze.

Entering your room, you found Matt sitting on your bed, his head turning toward you as you entered. He sensed the strange weight in your hands, the unshed tears in your eyes, and his smile faded. “What's in your hands?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. Your heart dropped, he could hear it. And that was when you told him, “It’s a letter from Stanford.”

Silence hung in the air as Matt absorbed your words. This wasn't what you had planned together, and his world seemed to stop right then and there.

“Why didn't you tell me you applied?” Matt's voice held a touch of hurt.

Your heart sank, knowing that this was a conversation you couldn't avoid. “I didn't know how to bring it up,” you admitted. “I was scared… scared of what it would mean for us.”

His brows furrowed. “What does it mean for us? Are you planning to leave? We said we’d go to Columbia, why–Is this no longer something you want? Us? You and me, going to college together?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you rushed to explain, “No, Matt, it's not like that! I love you, and I want to be with you. But Stanford… it's an opportunity I've always dreamed of. I don't want to live with regrets if I don't even try. It's… it's a full-ride scholarship, Matty. It's not just an acceptance letter, it's an offer.”

He was happy for you, and in hindsight, he should have reacted differently, but he was so hurt. He looked away, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “But what about us?” he asked. “What about the plans we made? We made all these plans for the future…”

Unshed tears glisten in his unfocused eyes, and he could tell it broke you just the same to tell him.

“I don't want to lose you, Matt,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The letter weighed heavy in your hands. “But I also can't ignore my dreams.”

“I won't ask you to give up your dreams for me. You know I wouldn't, but… I can't help feeling like you're just going down a path so far from mine, and… it scares me.”

The room filled with a heavy silence. The realization that a difficult decision lay ahead threatened to tear at the fabric of your love. You were so young, so naive, but you have always known just exactly what you wanted.

“I don't want to lose you,” you whispered, repeating your previous sentiment. “Maybe… maybe we can make it work, despite the distance.” Your eyes lit up, but the hope felt tainted. “We can try, right? We can promise to support each other and keep our love alive, even if we're apart.”

Matt's gaze softened. “I want to believe that,” he said, “but it won't be easy. We'll have to fight against the odds. Are we strong enough for that?”

“We'll never know if we don't try,” you said. “We owe it to ourselves to give it a chance.”

He took a deep breath, then opened his arms for you as so often and held you as you cried, not sure if out of sadness or excitement, but that stupid letter to Stanford was bound to change everything.

When you moved away to college, leaving New York and Matt behind, the contact you promised to keep up faded eventually. He got into law school, you made a living for yourself, your calls eventually stopped, no more letters or gifts, and after one particularly rough night of partying, that was it. You ended it.

Eight years washed down the drain because life has funny ways of breaking people apart. At first, Matt was sad, but he learned to move on and eventually became a lawyer, found friends, and moved on the same way you seemed to have done all those years ago.

But there came a time when he least expected it, and you promptly bumped into him in a courthouse in Hell’s Kitchen. Matt recognized you almost instantly from the sound of your voice alone, and even though he grew up and aged like fine wine, you called his name the second you looked into his red glasses.

As you locked eyes, the memories of your past came rushing back for both of you. It was pouring rain outside. Your hair stuck to your face as so did his, but he was still the same Matt from before, only older, and you also hadn't changed much.

“Matt?” you whispered in disbelief.

A flicker of recognition crossed his face, his hand resting on your arm. “Is it really you?” he asked after calling your name.

A bittersweet smile graced your lips as you nodded. “It's me,” you replied softly. “I never thought I'd see you again. How- how have you been?”

He told you about his practice, he remembers, and you listened closely. You told him you were proud of him and then you told him about med school and how you were a resident now, but a slot opened up in Hell's Kitchen for a fellowship and you chose to move again. It was fate, almost.

His gaze softened as he listened to your breathing, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips, and the feelings he had pushed down for so long resurfaced. “I thought about you often,” he remembers dropping on you the second he caught his breath again

“I'm sorry,” you whispered back to him. “I let life get in the way, and I let go of something so special. I will never forgive myself for how we ended. I… we… I cared about you, Matthew. It wasn't just some stupid childhood fling for me.”

Matt's hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “We both made mistakes. We should have worked harder, it's not…You're not the only one who fucked up, so…”

You licked your lips. “We were too young,” you said.

“Yeah,” he instantly agreed without missing a beat, “We were. And a little dumb, maybe.”

You chuckled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked into his eyes. “I've missed you,” you confessed. “I've missed us.”

“I've missed you too. Us. But especially you.”

The courthouse buzzed with activity around you, the hustle and bustle of lawyers, judges, and clients filling the air. But at that moment, it felt as if time stood still, and it was just the two of you. It reminded you of your childhood when you would spend time at the water together, whispering hushed promises underneath the night sky.

“Let's start over,” you suggested. And then you reintroduced yourself, telling him your name with that wonderful smile of yours, and he was enchanted all over again.

A smile tugged at the corners of Matt's lips, too, as he reached out to take your hand. “Matt Murdock,” he said. “Nice meeting you.”

That was the day everything changed. To think that day lies three years in the past now is something he still hasn’t wrapped his mind around, but fate brought you back together, and after months of pining and him hiding who he truly is to no avail, you finally took the first step.

You accepted that he is Daredevil without second-guessing or being mad at him. You walked through hell with him and you came out on the other side stronger than before, and Matt realized soon enough that he could never love someone as much as he loves you.

And on a beautiful Saturday in June, he asked you to marry him at the same lake you used to hide out as kids. You said yes, of course. He feared for a moment you wouldn’t, but you jumped into his arms as soon as he got on his knees, and the deal was sealed.

Matt can’t see, that is no secret. He thought it might ruin your wedding experience, but you reassured him you didn’t care about whether or not his eyes fell out of his head when you would walk down the aisle. He wishes he could see you in your dress, but he has made peace with the fact he couldn’t.

As he’s standing in the small room hidden away in Clinton Church now, nervously fiddling with the flower stuck to his suit jacket, he can’t help but recall all the little moments you shared while you were growing up, and how fate brought you back together when you both needed it the most. You picked each other up, and you saved each other’s lives.

You asked one of your bridesmaids to tell him to wait right there, and he has been standing there, looking out of the window at the small lake in the distance for a while now. He wonders what you’re doing, but Foggy told him to be patient, so he tries to swallow his curiosity and waits some more.

He never thought he would get married, but he remembers thinking one night as a boy that if he ever got married, he would only get married to you.

As the anticipation builds up, Matt's heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He can hear the distant sound of footsteps approaching, followed by your heartbeat. You smell like flowers and vanilla, and the fabric brushing against your legs sounds soft, almost like his silk sheets.

The door to the small room creaks open, finally, and he holds his breath, bracing himself for the sight he would never be able to see. And then, there you are, standing at the doorway. Your dress, carefully chosen and adorned, flows elegantly around you. It's silk with lace adorning the top, but you made sure that it would feel nice to him and look good on you, still.

Matt's senses heighten when you enter, capturing every detail he can possibly perceive. Most of all though, he memorizes your heartbeat once again and takes a good whiff of the beautiful scent you carry with yourself. You are one hundred percent yourself and he has never been more in love.

Today, you don't have to sneak around or hide away, even though it still feels like it, in this room secluded from everyone else, and his heart races faster when he thinks about how full circle this moment feels.

You take a step closer, your footsteps soft against the floor. You're wearing heels, but you seem to walk comfortably in them. Matt's heart skips a beat when he hears your voice. "Matthew," you breathe. "I'm here."

With a gentle smile, you extend your hand. Matt reaches out, intertwining your fingers. You close in on him until you're right in front of him, and he blinks as if he can't believe it. You remove his glasses, tears already forming in his eyes from how many emotions crash into him, but you don't feel much better. Seeing his brown eyes search yours, you swallow the lump in your throat, and you try not to start sobbing right then and there.

Your pulse jumps under his fingers; he chuckles because it seems ironic that you're more nervous than him, so beautiful and innocent. You're his everything, his world, the reason he's still alive, and he can never repay you for all you've done for him.

His fingertips graze the delicate fabric of your dress. He traces the intricate patterns, feeling the smoothness and intricacy, the silk and the lace. You guide him a little, building up his confidence. He feels the slit that runs down your leg, the garter belt you're wearing, and he swears he might puke. Your face is next, and with that, he takes his sweet time. You close your eyes and let him explore. He cradles you so delicately, almost as if you're a porcelain doll.

His breath shudders. "Fuck," he murmurs. The reality of the moment hits him. The first tear escapes his left eye. He never thought he would have the opportunity to experience something like this, and now he is experiencing it with you, the love of his life. It feels so surreal, he can't breathe.

His voice quivers as he speaks. "You're breathtaking," he says. "I can't even…Jesus, you're amazing."

You choke up too, your lips curling up into a smile. "Don't make me cry," you retort. "You're gonna ruin my makeup, Prince Charming."

He joins in, his hand remaining on your cheek as he takes in the person that you are through his other senses. You feel so much closer like this. You're his and he is yours, forever.

You step closer. Matt's arms envelop you in a warm embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. He always knows what you want, what you need, and he is more than willing to give it to you unconditionally.

"I love you," Matt whispers into your ear. "I've loved you since we were kids, and I'll love you until the end of time."

You swallow the tears that threaten to fall. "I love you too. With every beat of my heart. I fell in love with you the second I saw you sitting there all alone," you say. "You're never getting rid of me."

He chuckles. "Oh, sweetheart, that's the reason we're here today in the first place. You don't get one without the other." Matt brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. "You're mine and I'm yours. Always and forever. I promise."

Just as you are starting to get lost in each other's eyes, the door creaks open, and Foggy's voice breaks the moment. "Am I interrupting something here, lovebirds?" he chirps.

You turn to see Foggy standing at the doorway, a playful smirk on his face. Matt releases you from his embrace, and the two of you share a sheepish smile.

"Not at all, Foggy," you reply, wiping away the remnants of your tears. "We were just having a moment."

Foggy chuckles. "Well, don't get too caught up in the moment. Remember, Matt, you can't kiss the bridge until the ceremony. That's what you told me to tell you," he says. "So, take a step back."

Matt rolls his eyes but follows his instructions. "Better?"

Foggy shakes his head. "Further."

"You want me to wait outside? You know this is my bride, right? And I can't even see her."

You laugh. Turning to your husband-to-be, you gently tug at his arm. "Guess you'll have to contain ourselves until then," you say.

“How will I ever manage that?” Matt retorts. “I only waited over a decade to get you back.” Followed directly by a dramatic sigh.

“Exactly,” you and Foggy say at the same time.

You glance at Matt, a silent understanding passing between you. You faced so much together, hand in hand, and this moment would be no different. You’ve never been big on traditions, anyway.

You turn back to Foggy. "We're ready,” you tell him. “And we've decided to walk down the aisle together.”

Foggy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but a smile quickly spreads across his face. "Well, I'll be damned!" he quips. "Leave it to you two to make things even more unique. Less work for me, I suppose. Let's get this show on the road then."

And as you take those first steps together, Matt realizes that you chatting him up all those years ago at St. Agnes was just the beginning of your story.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #matt murdock angst #lizzi writes #matt murdock request #charlie cox #inspired by speak now by taylor swift

290 notes · View notes

alyssaforevermore · 10 months ago

Text

Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season one, part four

Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?

Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!

Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @suniloli (won't let me tag you sorry)

Masterlist

You stood there, still in shock over the scene in front of you. The thought of being so afraid for your life that you cut off your hand was almost too much to bear. A part of you felt horrible for Merle, despite how awful he had been since you met him. Most of all, you felt horrible for Daryl. You couldn’t imagine if it had been Rick in Merle’s place.

Daryl lifted his crossbow, letting out a huff as he aimed it at T-Dog’s head. Luckily, Rick was quick to react, lifting his own gun to Daryl’s head.

“I won’t hesitate.” Rick spoke. “I don’t care if every walker in the city hears it.”

Daryl eyed Rick for a moment, contemplating his options. Finally, he lowered his crossbow. He looked back at Merle’s hand before turning to T-Dog once more.

“You got a do-rag or something?”

T-Dog nodded, slowly reaching into his pocket. He then handed it to Daryl, keeping his eyes on the crossbow.

Daryl walked over to Merle’s hand, picking it up by the thumb and wrapping it up. “I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs. Ain’t that a bitch.” He then walked over to Glenn, placing the now wrapped hand in his backpack.

“He must’ve used a tourniquet… maybe his belt. There’d be much more blood if he didn’t.”

You pointed to the blood trail on the ground. “He couldn’t have gotten too far like that.”

Daryl looked at you, nodding before running off in the direction of the blood trail. T-Dog quickly grabbed the bag of tools they’d left previously, everyone following closely behind Daryl. You soon ended up in another part of the building.

“Merle, you in here?” Daryl called out.

As you entered an office, a walker stepped out from behind the counter. Daryl wasted no time shooting it in the head, signaling for the rest of you to keep following him. Two walkers, already put down, laid on the floor.

“He had enough in him to take out these two sumbitches.” Daryl mumbled. “One handed. Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he’d crap out nails.”

“Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is.” Rick responded.

“Merle!”

Rick shook his head. “We’re not alone here. Remember?”

“Screw that.” Daryl spat. “He could be bleeding out. You said so yourself.”

You pushed open a set of doors, revealing a kitchen. The stove was lit up, a flame coming from one of the burners. A belt sat on the counter beside it. Glenn picked up an iron, inspecting it closely.

“What’s the burned stuff?” You asked.

“Skin.” Rick responded. “He cauterized the stump.”

Glenn dropped the iron as his face scrunched up.

“Told you he was tough.” Daryl commented. “Nobody can kill Merle but Merle.”

“Don’t take that on faith. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Yeah?” Daryl asked, pointing to a shattered window. “Didn’t stop him from busting out of this death trap.”

“He left the building?” Glenn asked. “Why the hell would he do that?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Daryl asked. “He’s out there alone as far as he knows, doing what he’s got to do. Surviving.”

“You call that surviving?” T-Dog asked. “Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?”

“No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks.” Daryl snapped. “You couldn’t kill him. Ain’t so worried about some dumb dead bastard.”

“What about hundreds of them?” You rolled your eyes. “You think he can take on all of them?”

“He just needs to stay hidden.” Daryl responded. “Look, you guys do what you want. I’m gonna go get him.”

Daryl went to leave, but Rick placed his hand on his chest. “Daryl, just wait.”

“Get your hands off of me! You can’t stop me.”

“I don’t blame you. He’s family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “He couldn’t have gotten far with that injury. We can search a few blocks around the building, but we have to work together and keep a leveled head.”

Daryl stared at you for a moment before nodding. “I can do that.”

“We have to get those guns first.” T-Dog spoke up. “I’m not strolling around the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, alright?”

“I agreed.” You spoke. “If we’re gonna get them, we need a plan.”

Glenn nodded. “I think I have an idea.”

…

The five of you stood in an office, staring down at the floor when Glenn had used a dry erase marker to draw the streets surrounding the building.

“You’re not doing this alone.” Rick spoke.

Daryl nodded. “Even I think it’s a bad idea and I don’t even like you much.”

Glenn sighed. “It’s a good idea, okay, if you just hear me out. If we go out there in a group, we’re slow, drawing attention. If I’m alone, I can move fast.”

“If anyone can do it, It’s Glenn.” You agreed. “He’s been here alone more times than I can count.”

Glenn grabbed two erasers, placing them on his sketch of the streets. “Look, that’s the tank, five blocks from where we are now.” He pointed to one of the erasers. “That’s the bag of guns.” He grabbed a paper clip, placing it on one of the streets, looking at Rick. “Here’s the alley I dragged you into when we first met. That’s where Daryl, Y/N and I will go.”

“Why me?” Daryl asked.

“Your crossbow is quieter than Rick’s gun.” Glenn responded. “While those two wait in the alley, I run up the street and grab the bag.”

“You got us elsewhere?” Rick asked.

Glenn pointed down the street. “You and T-Dog, you’ll be in this alley here.”

“Two blocks away? Why?”

“I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I won’t go back to Daryl. I’ll go forward instead, all the way around to the alley where you guys are. Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me. After that, we all meet back here.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes. “Hey, kid, what’d you do before all of this?”

“Delivered pizzas.” Glenn mumbled. “Why?”

Rick raised his eyebrows, looking at you.

“Well, it looks like we have a plan.” You spoke.

You all gathered your stuff, preparing to leave when Rick pulled you aside.

“Are you going to be okay with Daryl?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t exactly trust him. I’d rather you be with me.” Rick mumbled.

You smiled. “I can handle myself.”

“I know that, I just-”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Rick sighed, nodding as he turned around and followed the others out of the room. Truth be told, you didn’t trust Daryl either. You had no doubt he’d leave you to the dead if he saw his brother out there. Still, you wanted to make sure he didn’t abandon the group and leave Glenn without backup.

…

You, Glenn and Daryl made your way down the ladder and into the alleyway. Daryl loaded his crossbow, peeking out from behind a dumpster.

“You got some balls for a Chinaman.”

Glenn rolled his eyes. “I’m Korean.”

“Whatever.”

Glenn ran down the alleyway and into the street, disappearing from your view. You pulled out your knife, holding it close to your chest. Even though there was a fence between you and the dead roaming the streets, you could still feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Suddenly, Daryl grabbed your arm, pulling you further behind the dumpster.

“What the hell-”

He lifted his finger to his mouth before pointing in the direction of the street. You could hear footsteps, much different to the dragging ones of the dead. Someone else was here.

Before you had time to fully process the danger, Daryl jumped out, pointing his crossbow. You stood up, seeing a young boy holding his hands up.

“Woah, don’t shoot me!” He pleaded. “What do you want/”

“I’m looking for my brother.” Daryl spoke. “He’s hurt real bad. You seen him?”

“Ayúdame!” The boy screamed.

“Hey, shut up.” You hissed. “Unless you want the dead coming this way.”

“Answer me!” Daryl spoke, stepping closer to the boy.

“Ayúdame!”

“Shut up!” Daryl yelled, pushing the boy to the ground.

You looked up, noticing two men rushing at you from the street. They tossed you to the side, your knife flying under the dumpster, before beginning to kick and hit Daryl with a bat. You rushed to your feet, attempting to pull one of the men off of him.

The fence rattled, earning everyone’s attention. Glenn stood there, eyes wide before he turned to run.

“That’s it. That’s the bag, Vato!” One of the men yelled. “Get it!”

The men rushed towards Glenn, grabbing him as he dropped the bag and Rick’s hat. As Glenn screamed for help, Daryl aimed his crossbow, shooting one of the men in the behind as a car pulled up. The man let out a scream, both of them pushing Glenn into the car before hopping in themselves.

You ran towards the car, but it sped off before you could even exit the alley. Daryl arrived beside you, screaming at them to come back as walkers began heading towards you. He pulled the fence shut again.

“This can’t be happening.” You mumbled as Daryl rushed towards the young boy they’d left behind.

“I’m going to kill you!” Daryl yelled, beginning to kick the boy just as Rick and T-Dog arrived.

“Stop it!” Rick commanded.

“I’m gonna kick your nuts up in your throat!”

“Enough, Daryl.” You snapped. “You’re not helping.”

“They took Glenn!” Daryl snapped back. “That little bastard and his little bastard homie friends. I’m gonna stomp his ass!”

“Guys!” T-Dog spoke. “We’re cut off.”

You looked around, walkers glued to the fence on one side of the alley and wandering down the other.

“We have to get back to the office, now.” Rick spoke.

Daryl grabbed the boy’s shirt, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go!”

Rick ran down towards the fence, grabbing the bag of guns and the hat before running back towards the ladder.

…

“Those men you were with,” Rick started. “We need to know where they went.”

The boy smirked. “I ain’t telling you nothing.”

“What the hell happened back there?” T-Dog asked.

“Him and his friends came out of nowhere and jumped us.” You responded.

“He’s the one who jumped me. Screaming about trying to find his brother like it’s my damn fault.”

“They took Glenn. Could have taken Merle too.”

The boy began to laugh. “Merle? What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn’t name my dog Merle.”

Daryl clenched his fists, going to kick the boy before Rick grabbed him.

“Damn it, Daryl. Back off.”

Daryl began to pace back and forth. Finally, he grabbed Glenn’s bag, reaching inside and grabbing Merle’s hand. He began to unwrap it. “Want to see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?” He tossed the hand on the boy’s lap.

The boy jumped off his chair, his back hitting the wall behind him.

“Why don’t we start with the feet this time?”

Rick shook his head, pulling Daryl away from the boy. “Look, the men you were with took our friend. All we want to do is talk to them, see if we can work something out.”

You nodded. “Tell us where they are and nobody loses their hands… or feet.”

Rick looked back at you, glaring.

The boy thought for a moment before nodding.

…

You arrived at where the boy had said his friends were, hiding behind some crumbling walls. Rick reached into the bag of guns, grabbing a sniper and handing it to T-Dog.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” He asked.

T-Dog nodded. “Yeah.”

Rick looked up at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with him? You’ll be safer.”

“I already told you, I can handle myself.” You sighed. “Besides, I’m no good as a sniper, so I’d be useless up there.”

The boy shook his head. “You guys don’t need to do this.”

“Shut up.” You responded. “You’re lucky we need you as leverage.”

“Y/N…” Rick spoke, his tone hushed.

“What?” You asked. “They attacked us, tried to steal our guns and took our friend. They have it coming.”

Daryl nodded. “I say we go in there, guns high.”

“Absolutely not.” Rick scolded. “We do this the right way, to avoid any more bloodshed unless absolutely necessary. Understand?”

You nodded, Daryl nodding as well.

T-Dog headed off, ready to get into position as Rick, Daryl and you led the boy towards the front door.

“One wrong move, you get an arrow in the ass. Just so you know.” Daryl mumbled.

The boy smiled. “G’s gonna take that arrow out of my ass and shove it up yours. Just so you know.”

“G?” Rick asked.

“Guillermo. He’s the man here.”

“Okay then.” Rick responded. “Let’s go see Guillermo.”

You arrived at the door as they swung open, a man walking out. Behind him was a crew, all holding weapons.

G looked the boy up and down. “You okay, little man?”

The boy shook his head. “They’re gonna cut off my feet, carnal.”

G looked at Rick, his eyebrows raised. “Cops do that?”

“Not him.” The boy cried. “This redneck puto here. He cut off some dude’s hand, man. He showed it to me.”

Daryl shoved the boy. “Shut up.”

One of the men from the alley rushed out of the crowd, pointing a gun at Daryl. “Hey, that’s the Vato right there! He shot me in the ass with an arrow. What’s up, huh?”

“Chill, Felipe.” G spoke, holding up his hand. “This is true? He wants Miguelito’s feet? That’s pretty sick, man.”

Rick tilted his head. “We were hoping more for a calm discussion.”

“That hillbilly jumps Felipe's little cousin, beats on him, threatens to cut off his feet, Felipe gets an arrow in the ass and you want a calm discussion? You fascinate me.”

“Heat of the moment.” Rick spoke. “Mistakes were made on both sides.”

“Who’s that dude to you anyway? You don’t look related.”

“He’s one of our group, more or less. I’m sure you have a few like him.”

Daryl peeked behind G’s shoulder. “You got my brother in there?”

“Sorry, we’re fresh out of white boys. But I’ve got Asian. You interested?”

“We have one of yours, you have one of ours.” You spoke up. “Sounds like an even trade.”

“My people got attacked.”

“So did ours.”

“Where’s the compensation for their pain and suffering?” G ignored you. “More to the point, where’s my bag of guns.”

“Guns?” Rick asked.

“The bag Miguel saw in the street.” G responded. “The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. That bag of guns.”

“You’re mistaken.”

“I don’t think so.”

“About it being yours.” Rick spoke. “It’s my bag of guns.”

“The bag was in the street. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs. I'm supposed to take your word? What's to stop my people from unloading on you right here and now and I take what's mine?”

“You could do that.” You responded, looking up at the roof of a building.

“Or not.” Rick smiled.

G followed your gaze, spotting T-Dog aiming the sniper at him. He looked back at you for a moment, before calling out. You looked up at the top of his building, two men coming into sight, holding another. He lifted the bag off the man’s head, revealing Glenn.

“I see two options.” G spoke. “You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we'll see which side spills more blood.”

Not bothering to discuss things further, G and his men headed back into the building, closing the door behind them.

----

AN: Thank you for reading this chapter! I was originally going to have it be all of episode four, I've written it all, but it was 21 pages so I figured I'd split it into two chapters instead. Which means that chapter five is already written and you can expect that soon! If you'd like to request to be tagged in future chapters, you can do so here. Please be sure to like and reblog <3

#daryl dixon; unearthed #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader

66 notes · View notes