#five: nah I would’ve pushed him off before he could jump
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Reginald: If klaus jumped off a cliff would you too.
Diego: hey man, I’m a leader, not a follower
Reginald: good. Because it’s important not to blindly follow—
Diego: I’m jumping off the cliff first.
#five: nah I would’ve pushed him off before he could jump#tua#five hargreeves#allison hargreeves#ben hargreeves#diego hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#luther hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#tua quotes#tua shitpost#the umbrella academy#reginald hargreeves
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Pause it, play it, pause it, play it | Market girl AU
Matty x marketseller!reader
Summary: Saturday's are always the same working the stall, until a stranger stops in to disrupt your cassette display...
Authors note: A one shot for you, needed something to help me with a little writer's block so I hope it's alright! Nothing too detailed, mostly just fluff, just saw that middle picture and the idea took root:)
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“Oi, Rob… You see where I set those new slips I just had?” I called out loudly, riffling my way through the boxes I’d brought over from the van that very same morning. “I swear I left them here in one of these lot.”
Rob seemed to shuffle over towards me at the beckon, peering around the tent whilst I pulled apart one box’s contents.
I huffed when I heard a familiar crunch and looked over my shoulder to see him stood there munching on an apple. “Nah, babe. Sorry. I can ‘ave a look though if you want, got Nance watchin’ out for me.” ‘Nance’ being Nancy, Rob’s massive Alsatian that had once been his grandad’s guard-dog when he’d manned the stall years back.
With a soft chuckle I pushed myself up onto my feet once more, tucking my hair behind my ears as I went.
“Have at, can’t for the life of me find them.” I told him, watching on in growing amusement as he bit down on the green fruit to hold it between his teeth whilst he mooched about the pyramid of cardboard boxes for me, “Sure you’ll still have enough left to sell? Last Saturday you ate your way through six of those, the one before that was the highest yet, at eight.”
Huffing, Rob took another bite of his apple and then shot me a wink. “Keepin’ an eye on me, are you?”
I rolled my eyes as a breathy laugh escaped me, falling against the stall’s main bench so that I could cross my arms over my chest.
A quick glance at the time told me that we still had a while yet ‘til it hit nine and the market opened properly, letting that first bit of crowd sail in. Though I’d always found it was easier most days to just enjoy the atmosphere that was Portobello, instead of focusing in on the imminent mob.
See, I’d been at the market since I were nine, working the vintage stretch with my mum and aunt, having grown all too fond of the people and their many eccentricities. Rob was of the same cloth, though a tad bit older, just enough that I’d had the fattest crush on him and that East London accent of his as a kid.
It had faded over time, mind, what with him jetting off a couple years back when he’d been a holiday rep in Ibiza and me realising that I’d wanted to try my luck at art school. Not that either of those things had worked out, which had ultimately led us back here, surprised not to be rid of the other.
He was as close as I could get to a best mate though. Strange yeah, but he was family, wasn’t he? Everyone who worked the market was.
“With an arse like that? Always.” I retorted easily enough to have him laughing along with me and shaking his head at my antics. Something he’d grown all too used to in the recent years since I’d come back and made my mark with a stall of my own.
It wasn’t anything too grand, my stall. Nothing like the tourist trapping shops that sat a little further down, but sweet enough for the likes of me and the massive music collection I managed to drag down here each weekend. Set up was always mad, yes, but with Rob, Nancy and a few other early starters, time slipped away quick enough.
“Here we go then.”
I blinked and looked back over at Rob, who was now beaming brightly at the set of LP slips I’d ordered in special, waving them about in smarmy pride. I swatted his side as I made a grab for the things, only to have him lift them up higher to where I couldn’t reach.
“Don't be a twat, pass them over. We open in five!”
Rob simply chuckled in retort, taking another chomp out of that apple of his. “A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Yeah, yeah, I would’ve gotten to it!” I swiftly shot back, jumping up to swipe them from his grasp and grinning in triumph when I managed it. He only laughed, a slight rasp working its way into it like it typically did. “Thanks.” I added after I’d thumbed through the lot, smiling up at him as he made his way to the other side of the tent.
“Buy me a pint and we’ll call it even, treacle.”
I gave him a roll of my eyes, but agreed without much fuss. “Fine, but just the one, tight arse.”
His hearty chuckle filled the steadily growing street of sellers and I watched on as he stroked Nancy’s collar before settling back in at his own stall which resided by mine.
“Penny’s take care of the pounds, my darlin’.”
I raised a single brow and tucked the slips into one of the closer vinyl cubbies- 70’s Proto-punk wasn’t much of a seller anyway. “You mean, look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves.”
Rob clucked his tongue, waving the correction away with the hand that held his apple core, “Alright, smart-arse. You knew what I meant.”
I smirked, tittering quietly to myself whilst he settled his usual bum bag around his hips. It suited him, I thought, the neon green pouch sitting atop that awful red and white apron he’d pinched off the butchers up in Notting Hill when he’d worked there for a weekend. Though I much preferred my own, my nephew having decked it out in all sorts of pins and patches for me a while back now.
With that Rob and I settled into our own stations, me taking perch on the old wooden stool I’d found in the back of a garden shed, and Rob being his usual loudmouth self, beckoning the arriving customers on closer.
The crowd grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to ten, lots of people stopped by to have a chat or a look round, a few purchased a couple of bits. It was mainly just the vinyls that sold these days, but I still had posters, cd’s, and even cassettes on show.
It wasn’t usual for the cassettes to get a good look over though, mainly just a ‘Oh! Do you remember them?’ and then a small laugh before people eventually moved on. Which was why I was more than a little surprised to see a figure having a right old rummage through the steady collection I owned, once I’d managed to wrap up another sale.
Glancing about, I spotted a pair of old birds flirting with Rob by the pears, Nance having gone to settle herself down by my bag in the back to hide from their gentle clucking, and how the crowded mob had thinned out a tad since most people had made their way further down the road’s neck.
I tucked the few notes I held into my pouch and stepped over a tangle of cables to make my way closer to the person, taking in their too big graphic tee and the tight zip up that had been layered over top of it. The nearer I grew the more I spotted though, the slight nod of a head as fingers worked their way deftly through the collection, the array of dark curls that poked their way out of the sides of a worn cap, and then the tiny hoop which dangled from a right earlobe.
“Looking for something specific?”
The bloke didn’t startle much, there was no real jump at the sound of my voice, only the slight tilt of his head, as though he was used to being caught off guard. I watched him closer after that, noting how his thumb trailed across one of the few Sonic Youth singles I had.
“Their ‘86 album?”
His voice was gentler than I’d first been expecting, rasped with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I blinked at his ask, skimming through the catalogue of tapes my mind offered me, which hardly ever seemed to move from their typical place of sorting.
“Um, top right? Should be one there, got Sister and Goo too, if I’m not wrong. Though the ‘88 album seems to be their most popular- even in cassette form.” I had rambled a tad there, I knew that much, but it was all part of the job to me. Talk and talk until they either fled the scene or decided to buy more than what they’d first come for. “You into cassettes then?”
He gave me a low chuckle and pulled away from the stand slightly, it was then that I caught sight of his face, a tad bit stubbled and lips parted almost in wait. He must’ve been closer to Rob’s age than my own.
I raised a brow when he didn’t offer me an answer, tilting my head in turn. “Or, is it a gift of some sort?” I dragged out.
With a blink, he seemed to stand a little taller and I noticed he only had an inch or two on me.
“Er, no.” He muttered, before mimicking my head’s movement and propping his elbow up on the cassette stand almost as if he was attempting to suss me out. It took a second before he finally flashed me a slow but genuine smile, “Looking for a certain sound. Some tapes sound better than the actual record so I figured here would be my best bet.”
I hummed, crossing one ankle over the other. “The further back you go you can hear it, but most of their stuff's good either way.”
He smirked as he settled in further, looking out at me from under the brim of his cap, “Aren’t you meant to be selling it to me?”
My laughter couldn’t have been helped because he did have a point there, only… “It’s just not everyday that someone pops by to talk about music mediums with me.” I argued, all too pleased when I heard him give another hearty chuckle in reply, “So forgive me for my excitement.”
“Will do.” He simpered, eyes flicking down to where he still held the Evol tape, I reached out to tap its plastic top.
“That one’s known for its ballads, if that’s something you’re into, but,” I practically sang before peering round him to see if I could find the one cassette case I was thinking of, “If you’re wanting a specific sound then A Thousand Leaves is probably worth giving a listen to. Personally I don’t think it got the recognition it deserved, but there was a lot of experimenting whilst also managing not to betray their roots, you know? It’s softer, smoother, and the guitars are almost unmatched.”
When I went to hand it over to him just to have a look at, I found him already watching me with this inscrutable sort of expression. I merely brushed it off, figuring that he’d just leave if he did eventually grow tired of my ranting, then turned slightly when a round of whispers echoed around the tent. It seemed a few younger girls had wandered straight on over to the independent artists section I had placed by the front and were arguing over who got this one Sam Fender album.
I looked away and went to say something else to him, but the way he'd simultaneously moved to angle his back away from the cassette tapes when he too spotted the new arrivals wasn't lost on me. I frowned a tad, though chose not to comment on it. “So, what sort of sound are you searching for anyway?”
His gaze skittered away from the tapes to meet mine for a second and I wondered, briefly, why he’d so suddenly lost the relaxed stance he’d been in just minutes before, but then he said, “Anything I haven’t heard much of before, in truth.”
Mulling his words over I then gestured towards the stand. “Can I?” I gestured, and immediately he knew where I was going with it, jumping back a step to let me riffle through the lot.
I pulled out a couple I figured he might be into, simply going off of the Sonic Youth album he’d been eyeing, then a few of my own favourites, not that I’d let that tidbit slip.
Handing them over, I let him search through their titles and answered one or two questions he had for me. I had to admit he intrigued me a bit, I’d had music enthusiasts stop by and talk about this and that with me, even had a couple people who played and were searching for new stuff to learn and adapt, but him? He didn’t give much away.
“Any good?” I questioned once I'd wandered back over to join him. I’d only left him to look through the selection again when a customer had called me over towards the front, and was just tucking away the few extra coins I’d been given when he glanced up at me with a bright grin. I was a little surprised to say it caught me off balance a bit.
“I’ll take the lot.”
Trying my hardest not to outright baulk, I paused. “The lot?”
Sure, cassettes weren’t all that pricey, not compared to pressed records at least, but there must’ve been just over a dozen that I’d pulled out to show him and now he supposedly wanted to take them all.
He laughed after a moment, most likely at the baffled look that marred my face, and made to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “That gonna be a problem?”
The question was almost argumentative, pushy even, but in a jokey sort of way, the kind you’d use when ribbing a mate, not now. Not with some stranger at a market stall. It only left me marvelling further.
“Might be, I’ll have to find a bag big enough to fit them all though.” I countered, hiding my own smile when I heard him laugh again whilst I spun around to fetch exactly that.
“Anything will do, love.”
I dipped my chin in a slight nod but didn’t go right for the usual stack of black baggies I used for most sales, instead I swiped one of the few printed totes I had hung up for trade and tallied up the price. “You gonna be alright walking the rest of the market stretch with that?” I teased him, looking up once the transaction completed to hand him the now very full bag only to find him already looking back at me.
He hummed around a sly smile, fingers meeting mine around the totes handle before they were slipping away again. “Think I’ll make do. Only came looking for these anyway.”
My brows jumped up in surprise as I watched him tuck his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. “Everyone loves Portobello.” I murmured and his light laughter echoed around the market stall once more before he simply shrugged.
“Been a couple times before, and besides, don't reckon I’ll get a better deal than this, do you?”
My eyes narrowed when I smiled, humoured by his easy going nature and quick quips. I found that I wanted him to stick around a while longer, if only to solve the mystery he made. “No, don't reckon so.”
He lingered for a moment or two more, simply smiling at me and I found myself smiling back, before a gaggle of school kids wandered on over, loud and uncaring of the looks they garnered. They caught my attention too and I found myself reminiscing over years where I’d been much of the same.
When I glanced back over to him, I saw that he was gone. My forehead pinched in confusion and I glanced around to see if I could spot him in the busy crowd, but it had grown all too quickly again and appeared easy enough for anyone to get swept up and lost in.
I rocked back on my heels as I gave up the search, just before I was called over by one of the kids asking for a specific LP. I let it go, him and the strange encounter we’d shared, and went about the rest of the day just going through the motions.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around I was shattered and had already packed most of the stall away. I waited patiently for Rob to help me with loading the larger bits into the van, watching Nance for him whilst he wrapped up what remained of the fruit and veg, knowing he’d take most of it back home to his family. It was at that moment that I caught sight of something amiss in the vinyl cubby I’d used to hide those slipcovers in just before we'd opened.
I walked over and was more than a little dumbfounded to spot a cassette lying there on its side. Standing On A Beach. One of The Cure albums I’d mentioned to that bloke in the cap earlier, the very same he’d gone and bought, and the exact one I was more than sure I’d bagged.
I picked it up, feeling Nancy brush up against my side whilst Rob called out to say that he was just dropping off his usual round of goodybags to the nearby sellers. I waved him off, then looked down at the tape I held, pausing when my thumb caught on something attached to the back.
Flipping it over I found a quickly scribbled note, its corner tucked into the case's opening so that it would hold its place.
(It sounded like you enjoyed this one when I asked about it. Know it’s a first edition too, so I figured maybe you should be the one keep it. - Matty.)
Matty.
“What you smiling at, weirdo?”
I startled at the sound of Rob’s usual drawl, head snapping over to my left to find him already trailing back towards us, a happy grin plastered over his face.
“Go on, tell us!” He ribbed, and now that he was drawing nearer I was quick to tuck the note into my back pocket.
“Nothing, just this tape. Figured I’d keep it.” I told him with a small shrug, clutching the cassette closer when he hip checked me in passing and bent down to give Nancy a good old stroke.
“Thieving your own gear! Wow, that’s a new low even for you.” Rob chuckled, shooting me a bright smile before he stood once more.
“Hush up, it’s a goodun. Forgot I even had it.” I defended, but he merely continued to laugh at me. Rolling my eyes, I shoved his arm lightly before I said, “Now be useful for once and grab the last of those boxes for us, will you.”
“Tetchy.”
I simply snorted, shaking my head as I moved to pick up my bag, clinging to the old cassette case for a second before finally dropping it inside.
“You coming then?”
With a deep breath I took one last glance around the stall and didn’t see anything that had been missed, so I wiped down my jeans and then gave Nance another pet, “Yeah, coming!”
…
My week continued on much the same after that. I worked in the local pub behind the bar when I wasn’t performing on the crate stage there and on my day off I took the tube over to see my mum and nan. They lived further East nowadays, closer to the clinic my nana hated but needed, and not too far from the street she’d grown up on as a girl.
Saturdays were my only market days, even though it was open most of the week. Rob usually did Fridays there and the rare Tuesday too, when he could be arsed. Though the rest of his time was used up by frequenting the old boxing club every other evening, training and helping out with the younger lot that liked to come in. I’d only been half a dozen times, but he was very much in his element there.
So in shorter terms, my week had slipped on by without much fanfare, which meant that Saturday had seemed to both crawl and shoot back around.
I opened the stall like usual, only without Rob for the first time in ages. He had apparently come down with some sort of bug or other that he’d gone and caught off of his nieces when he’d popped round to see them Wednesday afternoon- and well, he was a man, wasn't he? Which ultimately meant that he was dying.
He’d let me have Nancy though, seeing as she hadn’t been out very much since the cold had hit him. So the Alsatian had jumped in my van that same morning and had been as good as gold all day. To be honest, she was a much better seller than me and I could see why Rob always brought her along with him, people seemed to flock to dogs which in turn meant more sales for me.
I’d been fanning the crowds away ever since we’d opened, which typically only tended to happen during half term or school holidays, but nonetheless it was a more than welcome change after the crappy tips I’d garnered down at the pub the night before.
‘Cause well, since I’d dropped out of school I’d taken to performing there on the more livelier nights, a few covers, one or two of my own songs, and then I’d end the set and slide behind the bar to serve. Normally I was fine with that, the tips were often good when both the older folk and the younger lot rolled in, Friday nights especially. Only, there’d been a gig on down at the O2 so we hadn’t gotten our usual patrons in, and had instead been sacked with a couple of stragglers and a less than lively lot.
Still, today more than made up for it.
The sun was shining as much as it could do during a London March, the skies were blue although not completely clear, and the market crowd seemed to be in good spirits too.
Sy, who worked a couple stands down, had passed out a tray of coffees not too long ago, just after the lunchtime rush, and then Dianne and Reg had followed with some of their freshly baked pastries. They’d even thought to bring a little treat over for Nance too.
I'd just texted a picture to Rob to show him what he’d missed out on by having a case of man-flu and had just got up to toss the last of the rubbish away when I was caught off guard by an unexpected surprise.
“You!”
Matty, my mind supplied a half a second later. The same name that had been circling my thoughts since he’d left me that note the Saturday prior. I blinked at the sight of him. He was wearing a cap again, although this one was different, a dusky navy blue that he’d gone and tucked under a giant grey hoodie.
“Me.” He grinned in glinted amusement, jutting out his chin in a gentle hello. “Figured I might find you here.”
The snort I gave was unprecedented, “Oh, really? Wonder what gave that away.”
Matty smirked. Matty. It felt strange to put his name to his face then, even though it had been puttering around in my head like the bouncing DVD logo since the last time we’d met.
“Got any more tapes for me then?”
My eyes squinted in my attempt to dim my smile, not really believing that he was actually here, before I pursed my lips and tilted my head at him. “Might do. Take it you liked the last few?”
He hummed, smiling down at Nancy who’d trailed on over and allowing her to sniff at his hand. When she nudged his leg with her snout I watched on as he dropped into a crouch to give her a proper stroke. Nance seemed to be quite taken with him after that.
I propped a hip against the nearest vinyl cubby, crossing my arms over my chest whilst he replied, “They were good- helped a lot, in truth. You were right about the Roxy Music album, too.”
Chuffed with that, I shot him a pleased little grin.
“You’ll come to learn that it’s to be expected.”
“What, you bein’ right?” Matty wondered with a low laugh, petting Nancy’s head once more before he forced himself back up onto his feet.
“What I said, in’t it?”
He shook his head softly and I felt his eyes on me before I finally gestured him on over to the cassette stand. “I found a few new ones in the charity shop near my mum’s the other day, figured it’d be best to add to the collection after you nearly took the lot.”
“Wow, and she’s dramatic too.”
I swatted his arm thoughtlessly, then stilled the second I realised what I’d done, but Matty was either none the wiser to my momentary pause or just didn’t care. “That come with the job then? Having to be mouthy?”
My jaw dropped a tad at his sudden cheek and I tutted around the tiny beginnings of a stuttered laugh, “You’re brave. I’ll let you have that. But honestly, you’re probably not wrong there either.” We shared a chuckle, coming to a standstill by the tower full of tapes, “Most of this lot have to be gobby enough to have a shout at bagging any customers, especially when Rob’s around.”
“Rob?”
I titled my head over towards the next stall which sat empty, “Yeah, he works the fruit and veg. Might’ve seen, or rather heard him last weekend.”
Matty gave a slow nod, dragging his gaze away from where I’d pointed and back to the many cassettes I had to offer.
“So what're we looking for this time?” I smiled, thoughts on The Cure tape he’d gifted me, although wary to mention it too soon. “80’s Punk? Electro? Rhythm and Blues?” I dragged that last one out, enjoying the sight of his smile and how it only appeared to lift on one side before dimpling the corner ever so faintly.
“Give me one of your favourites.”
“Mine?” I blinked.
He hummed again, fingertips trailing over multiple rows of cases. I watched the movement, caught up in it in actuality, before I tore my eyes back over to him.
I caught him looking again, only this time around I didn’t much question it, not when the Saturday sun sitting high in the sky reflected so prettily in his eyes. Lightening them enough that they almost appeared to glow.
I followed through on the ask though, once I’d finally managed to get my head in working order and drag my gaze back towards the task at hand, pulling out an extensive range of cassettes, both singles and albums, for him to view.
Matty liked to talk, I quickly learned. He asked question after question, even when it seemed like he knew more than he was letting on at times, and he waited whenever someone else walked over, sitting amongst the back shelves with Nancy whilst I talked and sold a couple of vinyls.
Soon enough the sun had started to dip low in the sky and we realised that the hours had honestly escaped us. I was startled when I finally looked down at my phone to see that it was almost time to start packing away, having lost myself in the conversation we’d shared, or rather the debates we had both started over artists and genres, and what decade had done the most for music.
“Oh shit! I can’t believe it’s almost half six!”
Matty appeared to remember himself at my exclaim, pulling out his own phone to see for himself and blowing out a large breath when it rang true. “Fuck, ah, I didn’t even realise.”
He actually looked somewhat apologetic when he met my eye again.
I shook my head and waved him off, “You’re all good, actually one of the best market days I’ve had in truth, made almost double than what I did last weekend, even with the stash you claimed.”
With a soft laugh, Matty made to stand, holding out a hand to help me up too once he'd found his footing. I smiled softly at the offer and took it, perplexed by the careful callouses which lined the tops of his fingertips and the soft palm that accompanied them.
“You play?”
“Hm?”
My chin jerked over towards where an older acoustic hung on display in the stall across from mine, “Guitar. Do you play?”
His brows knitted together at the ask but he did eventually give me a low chuckle too, hand still holding my own. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
My eyes flickered up to find his and I gave a small smirk, unable to help myself. “Intuition.”
Matty scoffed in amusement, “Oh yeah? How’s that work?”
Shrugging a single shoulder, I stepped on closer to him, near enough that the brim of his hat shaded the top half of my face and the toes of our shoes almost aligned. “Just comes to me, I ‘spose.”
He quirked a questioning brow.
“What’s your intuition telling you now then?”
I bit down on the insides of my cheeks in hopes to contain my playful smile, figuring I’d best take the chance now while it was being handed to me. “That you’re gonna buy me a drink.”
“Am I?” Matty answered, voice dropping a fraction as a grin threatened to split his face.
Humming, I could only smile, eyes flickering between his own before they darted up towards the brim of his cap. With the hand not holding his, I reached up and settled it a little lower on his head, then glanced back down at that growing grin. “I mean, if you’re gonna keep coming back each Saturday then…”
His eyes narrowed a tad and finally he let go of the chuckle he’d been holding onto, leaning in even closer to me. “Intuition telling you that?”
“Hm, along with a couple other things.” I quipped, revelling in the hand that came to rest on the hem of my jeans. “So, that drink?”
Matty laughed, sweet and lovely. “Might know a place.”
“Good,” I murmured in the little space he’d placed between us, mouth almost touching his own before I was smirking and pulling away, “Guess you can help me pack up then.”
Matty huffed out a breathy chuckle whilst shook his head at me, watching as his hand slipped from mine. Though he wasn’t left lonely for too long, seeing as Nancy padded on over to him for another round of strokes whilst I set to picking up a horde of albums. “Tease.” He shot out, though he didn't look too disheartened.
I gave him a loud laugh in return, content with being labelled as such. “Well you’d best get to work then. Quicker we’re done here, quicker we can see about you and me sharing anything other than a drink.”
And he did, he set to work swift enough, the two of us slipping by one another with a gentle ease we shouldn’t have yet earned and sharing soft smiles in the lessening market bustle. All the while I continued to wonder and watch him, thinking back on the cassette he’d gifted me and the sudden fondness I’d found for him.
“Ready to go?” He asked me not long later and I found myself never wanting to say no to that pretty smile of his. So I just nodded and took the hand he held out, Nance moving to join us too before we finally ventured our way out of the market street. Matty asking me every question he’d been holding back the further we got, and making realise that I had a horde of my own.
#the 1975#matty healy#x reader#fluff#flirting#humour#fic#writing#plot#matty#the 1975 band#y/n#matty healy fic#matty the 1975#reader#oneshot#imagines#heyidkyay
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you should totally do something with ksci janitor’s vamp newt it’s so just so good
i sure will! in a vampire mood this weekend. @k-sci-janitor's vampire newt found here. warnings for quick mention of drinking, allusions to sexy stuff, and also the different kind of drinking you'd expect from a vampire fic (tho on the vague side)
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The circumstances that led Newt down the unwitting path of immortality and general un-dead-ness are, in hindsight, honestly kind of embarrassing. It'd be one thing if he could say it happened in the pursuit of, like, knowledge, like the fierce jellyfish sting scar on his wrist leftover from a research expedition when he was twenty-two or the equally fierce one on his knee received in response to his question (at the age of five) of what would happen if I jumped out of this very tall tree?, or even something unrelated to his extensive biology career, something impressive, y'know, Van Helsing style, something like tracking down some vampire king and barely escaping with his life (un-life?)—not what really happened, which was little more than a bad date. And not even the worst date that Newt's been on, if you can believe it.
Newt was young and stupid then. He still is young and stupid, technically, though the former by appearance only. (Eternally pushing thirty. If he could've picked, he would've done twenty-eight, just before his handful of grey hairs started cropping up. Newt's had almost forty-five years of staring in the mirror at those four fucking grey hairs. He gave up dyeing them around the nineties. Not worth it. Still annoying.) He liked to do what young and stupid people did, like get stupid tattoos, and have a stupid haircut, and get drunk at stupid punk shows and not stumble home until he'd had at least one regrettable hook-up with a stranger and maybe lost his wallet. (The two were often related.) That particular thing was what did him in that night. It was a different time back then, man—if a dude showed even the slightest inkling that he ran in Newt's sort of circle, if you caught his drift, Newt fucking jumped at the chance.
(The band was on their second set of the evening and Newt had already screamed himself hoarse with singing along. He'd ducked outside in a back alleyway for only a second to get some fresh air, the club suddenly too hot and smokey for him to handle, and was just about to go back inside and close out his tab for the night when he realized he wasn't alone. There was someone—he was sure—lurking in the shadows a few feet away. He could hear breathing. He could see—eyes, maybe, in the dim neon light of the bar sign overhead. "Hello?" he'd called.
"Have a light?" the person called back.
They emerged from the shadows, and Newt felt himself relax at once. It was some spooky-looking guy he remembered seeing in the club, leather jacket, boots heavier than Newt's, dark hair and eyeliner. Tall. Newt remembered him, firstly, because he thought he was hot, and secondly, because he swore he caught the guy staring at him at least three times, and to Newt, that was as good as any pick-up line. He was wagging an unlit cigarette at Newt now. He was taller than Newt thought he was back in the bar—much taller, at least a full head on Newt. His eyes were a golden-brown, almost yellow, like a cat's, and Newt found himself unable to tear his own away from them. "L—light?" Newt echoed.
The guy stuck the cigarette in his mouth and arched a perfect eyebrow. Newt didn't smoke, but he did keep a lighter on him for occasions like this. He fumbled through his pockets for it while the guy stepped closer. "I was watching you," he told Newt, while Newt raised the lighter to the cigarette, "in there."
The flame danced and glinted against his eyes. Newt swallowed. "Uh-huh?" he said.
He flicked the lighter shut, leaving them both bathed in nothing but pink neon. A hand slid up against the wall next to Newt's right shoulder. Another plucked at the left lapel of his jacket. Newt was still staring at those eyes. "What's your name?" the guy said, in a puff of cigarette smoke.
"Um." Newt's leather jacket was being pushed off his shoulders. He felt his long hair being tucked to the side of his neck. All at once something seemed in snap in Newt—some reminder of where he was, and what he came here hoping for in the first place. Some hot dude was eyeing Newt up all night long, and now he was actually coming onto Newt, and Newt was about to get laid. He grinned. "Newt," he said. "Just call me that. You were watching me, huh?"
"All night," the guy said.
Newt's jacket hit the ground with a soft thump. A knee was being pushed between his. Newt felt his cheeks heat up a little—he wasn't used to people being this forward with him, and especially not in a semi-public place like this. Usually they at least made a show of offering up their apartment first. "What, um, what for?" he said.
They were kissing. Newt was clinging to the back of his jacket. And then he was kissing Newt's neck, and then he was—
"That kinda hurts," Newt mumbled. "Um, dude, I think your—your fuckin', tongue piercing cut me, or something. It's—"
It was hard to keep his eyes open. His neck felt weird. The guy was into biting, apparently, biting really hard, and yikes, that was going to leave a super embarrassing hickey that Newt would have to explain to his students somehow on Monday, but it also felt really good, like, Newt was maybe getting off kinda good, and Newt thought, dizzily, that he should at least return the favor before he finished up and collapsed in a happy heap on the ground. So he did.
The guy pulled back with a hiss. "Ow. What—?"
Newt tasted something coppery in his mouth, and he panicked and swallowed on instinct. "Oh, shit, dude, I'm sorry," he slurred. His voice sounded like it was a million miles away. "I was trying to be—sexy. Um." There was blood on the guy's chin. He was staring at Newt in something akin to horror. Dark circles were spotting Newt's vision. "I think you cut your lip," he said, and then he passed out.
Newt was alone when he woke up. It was still dark, too. He walked the two miles home, collapsing in bed, fully-clothed, just before dawn, and he didn't wake up again until sunset. He forgot his jacket, but at least he remembered his wallet this time.)
So, anyway, Newt thinks he can be forgiven if he...embellishes stuff a little when, for the first time in his whole long life, he finally spills the details to someone. Also, no way is he admitting the truth to Hermann of all people.
"There were a bunch of murders in the area at the time," he says, while Hermann, angled on his side next to him in bed, watches him raptly. It's kind of weird pillow talk, but their pillow talk rarely isn't weird. Usually Hermann will launch into a critique of Newt's latest pet theory before Newt's even caught his breath. At least he very courteously waited for Newt get a glass of water from the bathroom first this time. "Really brutal ones. Like, throats torn out, blood drained. Really nasty shit. Everyone was saying they were some kinda bizarre wolf pack attacks, but I knew better."
"Of course you did," Hermann says, running his hand down Newt's chest, and Newt can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. (He has a feeling he is.)
"You bet," Newt says. "It took me months of, um, super hard research. Finally I hunted him down to this—" Newt debates the coolest lair possible of a vampire, and then remembers Lost Boys, which, even though he resents it slightly for totally stealing the vampire vibes he was going for, is still a kick-ass movie. "—this weird cave, where he lived. The king of the vampires. I won, obviously, but he fought back, and he managed to infect me just before I hammered the, um, the wooden stake into his heart."
"So courageous," Hermann says. He reaches up and tucks a piece of Newt's long hair back. Hermann being totally cool with the whole vampire thing, and maybe even possibly into the whole vampire thing, is probably the last thing in the world Newt expected from him. They're no strangers to hooking up during long late nights of science, but Newt swears it's gotten more frequent. "You must've been terrified."
"Nah," Newt says, though he remembers the glint of the flame off those yellow eyes, and he shivers. Hermann notices; his eyes, not yellow, but a warm shade of brown that makes Newt feel like he's being wrapped in a blanket, soften. If Newt could still blush, he would. "I'm—um—I'm pretty brave."
Newt hadn't exactly been planning on telling Hermann about the whole thing, but (last week) he had the very unfortunate timing of beginning a late-night dinner just as an oblivious Hermann strolled back into the lab to pick up his forgotten pair of glasses. To his credit, he only freaked out a little when he saw Newt draining a blood bag like a fucking Capri-Sun, and even then (after what felt like ten years of horrible, horrible silence) all he said was "You're the one who's been stealing those from medical?"
Look. Newt hasn't drank from a human being the entirety of his un-life, and he doesn't plan on it any time soon. He's...a vegetarian. Effectively. It's sort of the reason he picked up a medical degree along the way once he got tired of breaking into blood banks. Even if it's still a little ethically dubious to steal blood like that, at least he's not swooping around on unsuspecting people like that—goth asshole who swooped in on him did. (Newt's never managed to find out who he was—he suspects he was some sort of vampire drifter in town that night just to find a victim. And Newt just had to think with his dick at the worst possible time.)
Hermann tucks another strand of Newt's hair back. Newt also did not expect how fast Hermann became cool with the whole thing, but on the other hand, giant aliens are clawing their way out of the ocean on a bi-monthly basis these days. It's hard to be skeptical about most things. ("Well, it does make logical sense," Hermann had said with an eyeroll. "When you consider some of your rather more bizarre quirks, I mean. I ought to have guessed it ages ago. I suppose that's why you have that awful haircut," and that stung, because yeah, Newt hasn't felt like changing it up since the seventies, and why should he, it kinda rules? but he just laughed it off and said, "You're one to fucking talk, dude!") "Newton," Hermann says now, gently, "what actually happened?"
Newt sighs. Hermann always knows when he's lying about shit. "I was making out with a vampire in an alleyway and then he bit me. And—um—I kinda didn't notice at first, 'cause it felt... good."
"Mm," Hermann says. The corner of his mouth twitches up. "That's more along the lines of what I expected. That, or you were hounding him for details like a proper biologist and he got tired of answering your inane questions."
"Very funny," Newt says. "Ha."
Hermann rolls away from him and stretches his arms above his head. Newt watches his throat work as he yawns, swallowing down a sudden lump in his own, and he feels a surge of something hot and—alien—in the pit of his stomach. "Over forty years," Hermann says. He picks up Newt's discarded sweatshirt from the floor and tugs it down over his head. "You must get terrifically lonely."
Newt half-shrugs. "I guess. I'm kinda used to it by now." His dad (who never brought up how Newt's aging seemed to be at a standstill when they saw each other, not once) is long-gone. Newt's tried dating, but no one's ever seemed to be into it as much as he is—and besides, it's not like he could ever do the actual til death do us part thing unless he went against every ethical bone in his body and made someone like him. When the internet became a thing, he considered making a forum or something to find more of his kind, but the thought everyone just being like the guy who accidentally turned him in the first place terrified him and he killed the page before it even left infancy. So, without any better ideas, Newt forged some paperwork and leaned pretty hard into the world of academia to fill up his sad little hole of a heart, resigned himself to casual flings with anyone who seemed interested, and it mostly worked. Mostly. And then the kaiju came along, and then so did... "You make it a little bit better," he confesses.
Hermann lays back down next to him. "I do?" he says.
Newt thinks he sees something like that hot, hungry feeling he felt in his stomach flash behind Hermann's eyes. He nods.
Hermann suddenly kisses Newt, pulling him down on top of him, and then tugs the collar of Newt's stolen sweatshirt down below his collarbone. He drags Newt's hand up to press against his throat. Newt feels the erratic beat of Hermann's pulse beneath his fingertips, his heart pounding against his ribcage (pressed up against Newt's silent one), and he almost moans. "Have you ever...?" Hermann murmurs, gazing up at Newt through his dark eyelashes.
"N—never," Newt stammers. "I told you."
"Do you want to?" Hermann says. Newt tries not to gape. "Just a bit at a time, whenever you need. You wouldn't have to steal those silly blood bags anymore. And—" He hesitates. "I admit I am curious. About the sensation."
"Um," Newt says. "I—"
He feels something sharp poking his lower lip. Fangs. His fangs. Oh, shit, he's never had that happen before. He forces himself off of Hermann before he does something stupid.
"Maybe, um, maybe later?" he squeaks, while Hermann just smiles at him.
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Tongue Piercing (Yuta x reader)
A/n : the promised, Nakamoto Yuta tongue piercing scenario :D not the best out there, but y’all are thirsty for yuta’s tongue piercing jk lol or yes?
also happy lunar new year! (づ ̄ 3 ̄)づ
tags : to my fellow yuta simps :”) @yutahoes @ailoveyuta @2-3-t-i
warning : suggestive, piercings, yuta is a flirt (but so are you)
enjoy~~
“Back here again Nakamoto?” You ask after hearing the small bell on the door chimes. You glance from cleaning up the greeting table to the tall man with a gummy smile portrayed on his face.
“Yes I'm here as you can see.” He shrugs his shoulder and takes off the cap and mask he used to hide his face.
You watch the clock and notice it's already working time. You wonder where your colleagues are, it's a bit unusual for them to be late.
“Alone?” The man asks you once again as he walks to stand in front of you.
You nod, this is Nakamoto Yuta, a regular customer in your tattoo and piercing parlor and he is your boyfriend. Well don’t be surprised at your morning encounter, he is an idol so he doesn’t live with you. You rarely check your phone in the morning, so maybe you missed his message about coming here.
“What are you planning to do? Visiting me or you're here for something else?” you fold your hands over your chest leaning on to the table you've just cleaned.
Yuta smirks and pulls your chin “Is that how you greet your boyfriend?”
Before you can roll your eyes for his clingy behaviour, he already takes over your lips with a short kiss and that’s that.
“I am here to visit you and at the same time for a new pierce.” He cups your cheeks and you just wait for him to explain everything.
“Didn’t we agree you had enough already this month?” you ask in your squished cheek phase and Yuta giggles at that and he pulls his body away from you.
“I am not talking about my ears.” He says as he pulls a small mirror he found on the desk and examines his ear. You were right, his ear has had enough!
“Then where?” you ask a little bit shy.
Yuta cocks his head upon hearing your cracked voice “I guess you were thinking of wild things… judging by your cracked voice.”
You shake your head and mumble in your heart “Come on be professional about this.”
You take a deep breath and smile “Okay so tell me Yuta where do you exactly want the new piercing?”
“Actually after getting one for my navel, I really want to have another one in my tongue.” Your face fall and he has the audacity to click his tongue and winks at you.
“Tongue?” you stutter at him. He nods and licks his lips slightly.
“That hurts so much Yuta!” you yell a little bit at him.
He nods “I’m aware of that.”
You shake your head “Are you sure? Like really… I always make sure my customer are ready if they ask for a tongue piercing.”
Yuta teasingly leans closer to you “And honey who else should I trust in piercing my tongue if it's not you?”
Your mouth can only open and close like a fish and Yuta pinches your nose “Now, why don’t you get the needle ready before the store gets crowded and you'll be busy with your clients. It's a relieve I am here alone with you.”
He pushes you lightly to the working room and you can only hide in the store room as you prepare the needle and anesthesia needed.
Yuta has taken the seat like piercing was nothing big nor painful. This man can be a masochist who enjoys the pain. Gosh … you shake your head as you bring all the equipment to the table and puts over your sanitary gloves and mask.
“Do you bring the stud already?”
He nods and reaches to his pocket, then gives it to you. You nod, nothing new. Something simple only a round ball stud.
“Have you eaten a good meal?” you try to lighten the mood. Yuta nods “I've eaten all the good stuff. I know I won’t be able to eat painlessly for several week but I'm on a diet for a comeback don’t worry.”
You sigh “Okay, well if this is what you want I'm glad I got to be the one doing this. I'll make sure there's no regret and it's gonna be pretty.” You wink at him.
Yuta chuckles “Gosh I cannot wait to kiss you!”
You slap his firm tight “Pervert! You shouldn’t kiss not until I make sure there is no inflammation or infection! Now open up that mouth baby,” your voice turns husky within a gulp and you're glad no one else is here.
Yuta taps your ass “Wasn’t I the one in charge?”
You click your tongue “Not for today, I guess. Now open,” you gently hold his chin as Yuta’s eyes glisten when he sees you inject the anesthesia to him.
“Close your eyes, let me focus.” You wink and start doing your job.
It doesn’t take much time; you know Yuta can literally bare any slight pain when it comes to piercing.
You place the metal ball and finish the last touch. After making sure you’re done, you tap his shoulder.
“All done! Now, the pain will come in like another half of an hour. I suggest you drink a pain killer and please let me know if you feel any pain okay?” You cup his cheeks into your palm.
Yuta smiles through the numb feel in his tongue, he opens his mouth to talk but his tongue still cannot cooperate. You giggle and kiss his nose, “Don’t worry. Your tongue should be numb, and you can’t talk well for a while. But it’s regular.” Yuta only nods and he gets up to leave the chair.
You walk him to the front desk again and find your colleague already standing there.
“Alright, I’ll go.” Yuta speaks unclearly but you nod your head and just give him a thumbs up.
“Oh! Take this with you, you’ll need it.” You put your lip balm in his palm and he only smirks when he sees you blushing.
Yuta knows that is the favorite cherry lip balm he always smooches from you, and he knows you’re sending him some naughty ideas to his head.
You did not see Yuta for the last week, it’s already ten days since you pierced his tongue, five days since he came to have them checked for any problems, and after you told him he is already ready to use his tongue like usual, he’s gone.
You understand he is busy with his practices, but you did not expect him to suddenly knock on your door one Saturday night, looking all hot in his sleeveless black shirt.
“Oh! You didn’t tell me you’re coming.” You peek from your door, actually not prepared to receive him in your house. You haven’t really cleaned up your mess and you yourself look so plain and messy.
Yuta smirks “Does a boyfriend need to set a schedule to come visit his own girl? Move aside, let me in before anyone notices I am here and before I found any man in your room other than me.”
You roll your eyes and open the door for him, he directly enters without much hesitation. Running his eyes through the room and make a quick scan on you.
He chuckles, “Isn’t that a bit too revealing?” he asks when he notices your super worn out tee shirt and shorts. Well they’re the best to sleep In with so you don’t mind using such worn out clothes that happened to be “revealing” to Yuta.
You pull the sleeves of your tee up and shrug “Nah, it’s super cool with this, also I am sleeping alone Yuta. No one bothers what I am wearing.”
He places his bag down and jumps to the sofa on your living room.
“Good, no other man here.” He giggles as he pats your head. You sigh “Really? You came just to check if I am cheating on you?”
He raises his brow “Can’t I come? Didn’t you miss me? It’s been more than a week.”
You smile “Well, I have a quiet week without you! Quite a good one, but you could’ve texted me, and you know I could..” you rub your neck
Yuta leans closer “Could what?” his playful smirk comes up to his face.
You push him back “Could clean the house and prepare some food or drink for you.”
He giggles “No need, I’ve eaten dinner. I thought you said you would’ve worn a nicer lingerie.”
You smack his thigh and he yells “Why are you so rough right now, I am just kidding.”
“No sexy lingerie. I don’t have one.” You lean to your sofa, eyes watching the movie playing in front of you.
Yuta chuckles “Are you telling me that you want me to get you one?”
You want to punch him right then and there, but you know that will just make him tease you more.
So, you grit your teeth and punch him several times “If that makes you happy, yes go on buy me one! A lacy one okay! Damn it Yuta and his pervert head.” You launch your playful attack back at him and he just laughs.
“Alright alright, I know what you like, don’t worry.” He winks and licks his lips.
That’s when you remember your boyfriend has a piercing.
“Ah! Yuta let me see the piercing!!” you pull his chin and that makes the man flustered
Yuta sticks out his tongue and there you can see your wonderful professional work of piercing.
“It’s pretty! Do you mind, if I take a picture for a testimony?” you pull out your puppy eyes and phone.
Yuta clicks his tongue “I can do that,”
With that you make your boyfriend sticks his tongue out nicely and he’s a good model. You got a few good pictures that you’ll print and put on your office for references.
“Now, that you said I can do anything with my tongue, and you’ve done your job… can we try what I’ve been wanting since last time?” your boyfriend pulls you closer to him and lifts you up to his lap when you nod your head shyly.
“Don’t be shy, you knew too much to be acting innocent. I know you wanted to kiss me so bad too.” He nuzzles his nose to yours and you stick your forehead to his.
“Hmm? What do you mean?” your eyes twinkle in front of his.
Yuta fishes something out of his pocket and your eyes follow his hand. You blush when you see him shaking the cherry lip balm you gave to him.
“You knew I wanted to kiss you, but that was not allowed… so you gave me this? So I can feel like I am kissing you, right?” He raises his brow.
You look away from him, cursing his smart head for getting your message.
“But as much as I am thankful for this balm, I want to taste it from your lips.” He pops the balm open and spreads it over your mouth. Your eyes grow wide as you feel your stomach tingles at how close you are to him. You’re on his lap, one of his strong arms is holding your waist thumb barely touching your exposed skin from the worn shirt, while his other hand is applying a balm over your lips.
You balance yourself by placing your hands over his shoulder and when he pops back the lip balm lid, you smack your lips and dive into his lips. Yuta smirks as he savors you and you have to remind yourself there is a metal ball in his tongue that you’re battling with. Damn it’s hot, but still you don’t want to hurt him.
Yuta’s hands find their way to pick you up by your waist and you tighten your hands over his neck. He walks his way to your bedroom he knew by heart and for once you’re glad you always keep your bed clean or pausing to clean the bed up will ruin everything.
Once Yuta sets you down on your bed, you both part to gasp for air and you can feel your cheeks burning.
“That was hot,” you say between your breaths.
Yuta winks “I did not regret this at all, are you in?” he asks your concern, though this was nothing new, Yuta always wants to make sure he has your concern before continuing.
You nod and he leads you in.
“Gosh I really have to buy you sexy laces, huh?” he teases you and you hit him “Yak! Faster, don’t drive the attention elsewhere.”
Yuta licks his lips one more time when his eyes run over your body on your bed. He’s glad he got home tonight and he’s glad to see you after a long week.
--
You face Yuta who is lying on your side. Your naked bodies are still sweaty in the cold room, but with the covers and Yuta’s warm hug you don’t shiver at all. His fingers brush your hairs away from your face and he looks at you with stars in his eyes.
“I love you so much,” he blurts out
You stifle a laugh “Suddenly?”
He nods “Yeah, Every time I see you, I don’t want to lose you.”
You trace circles on his biceps and lay your head on his chest. You snake your arms into his torso and hug him close
“I am not going anywhere, don’t worry Yuta. I love you too.” You peck his nose and he giggles.
“I’m glad I found you.”
“Me too,”
“So, what color do you want for your lace?” he wriggles his eye brow.
You laugh “Whatever suits your taste, I can rock them honey.”
Yuta kisses your cheek “Naughty! But I like it.”
You taunt at him “So, where do you want the next piercing to be?”
Yuta smirks “I don’t know, surprise me?”
end
I- just had the courage to post this
#yuta x reader#yuta x y/n#yuta x you#nakamoto yuta imagines#yuta imagines#nakamoto yuta smut#yuta smut#yuta imagine#yuta scenarios#yuta oneshot#nakamoto yuta#nakamoto yuta fanfic#yuta fanfic#nct yuta x reader#yuta tongue piercing#yuta is a flirt#yuta#nct 127#nct scenarios#yuta fluff
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iii. Angel, The Princess and the Pogue Series
And even though we live inside a dangerously empty life. You always seem to bring the light, you always seem to bring the light.
Series Masterlist
Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, mentions of suicide, mentions of alcoholism and addiction, swearing, if there are any others please let me know.
Summary: JJ spends a late night with y/n and finds out they’ve got a lot more in common than it seems.
Words: 2863
As soon as the last school bell chimed Thursday afternoon, the gang jumped from their seats and headed straight for John B’s van. JJ lingered in the hallway, leaning against a set of lockers outside of y/n’s class as he waited for her. He had spent any chance he had during the school day around her. It was like she was a beacon of light, a beacon of hope, after so many things in his life had gone wrong. Of course, he wasn’t sure if she even found him remotely attractive in that way, but he sure as shit thought she was.
Y/N’s class had finally dismissed for the day and she stepped out into the hall, smiling as she saw JJ who was standing there with a big goofy grin on his face. “You didn’t have to wait for me, I could’ve walked out to the van on my own.” She commented.
JJ pushed off the lockers, falling in step beside her, an arm draping loosely over her shoulders. Her heartbeat quicker in her chest, though she tried to play it off, letting her expression remain calm. “A princess should never walk alone.” He teased, pushing the front door of the school open with his opposite hand.
“Not sure I’m a princess.” She retorted, rolling her eyes dramatically which caused him to laugh.
“Well, that’s your new nickname, sorry princess.” He let go of her shoulder and jogged forward to the van, meeting Kiara for their secret handshake before sending a salute in John B’s direction.
“You ready to fish, y/n?” Kiara asked, hopping in after her into the van and shutting the door behind them. Again, she was sandwiched between Kiara and JJ, which of course she didn’t mind at all.
“Yeah, I think I’ve only fished once in my life, with a cousin in Montana. But I didn’t catch shit and refused to go after that.” She picked at her cuticles, watching as the van started cruising down the street, John B’s free hand moving to grab Sarah’s who sat in her usual spot in the passenger seat.
“Well, we’re kinda experts at this, so if you don’t at least catch one fish you’ve got some bad juju on you.” Pope responded, earning a smack to the chest from Kiara. “Damn Kie, it’s just a joke!” The gang laughed, John B continuing to drive until he pulled over at a dingey corner store, JJ hopping out of the back seat and going inside. Sarah started belting out the lyrics to a Bob Marley tune as they waited, JJ emerging minutes later carrying two cold packs of Natural Light.
“Can’t fish without beer, that’s a Pogue sin!” He claimed, shutting the door as he nestled back into his spot beside y/n. Five minutes later they pulled into the docks, John B parking his van in an empty spot before everyone hopped out one-by-one. The boat John B had was not the prettiest, but it just showed its resilience. He hopped in first before helping Sarah get in, JJ passing up the beer for John B to set down in the boat.
Y/N, Pope, and Kiara got in after, JJ waiting on the dock for John B’s signal to push off. He gave it a swift push after a nod from the other man, jumping in as John B turned the keys in the ignition, driving the boat off into the deeper portion of the water.
“It’s beer o’clock!” JJ commented, opening one end of the first case and passing out beers to everyone, including y/n. She opened the can and took a long swig, admiring the water as they trolled in the deep.
“We’re gonna want to go to the far side, that’s where the fish are feeding right now.” John B noted, the speed of the boat increasing as he headed in that direction. Sarah turned on the radio, the music wafting as they sped farther away from shore towards the sweet spot where they’d anchor down at.
Y/N’s hair whipped in the wind, taking in the view as they cruised along the water. The Outer Banks truly was paradise on earth, as the sign had stated when she first arrived. She wasn’t sure how she would feel, being in a new town for her final year of high school, but she just felt meant to be there, like it was fate.
Soon enough the boat slowed, Pope grabbing the anchor and tossing it in when John B instructed him to, finally turning off the ignition and sitting back in his seat, taking a heavy swig of his beer.
“Alright, let's get the poles set up.” John B took the poles that were slid tight against the side of the boat, handing one to each person aboard before opening the container of worms. JJ pulled a knife from his pocket, cutting a few longer worms in half, everyone grabbing a piece.
“Can you put it on yourself, princess?” JJ questioned, wrapping his worm tight on his hook before inspecting y/n’s in her hand. She scoffed, following what JJ had just done, wrapping the worm around the hook, stabbing it through until it was stuck tight.
“How’s this?” She tilted her head to the side, sticking her tongue out at him. JJ displayed his middle finger playfully at her, finishing the last little bit of his beer before he moved to the bow of the boat, standing up and casting his rod.
Y/N moved to stand next to Sarah and Pope, casting out as they did and making sure not to cross lines, as Pope had told instructed her not to do. It wasn’t long before the Pogues were reeling in fish, taking them off and inspecting them before tossing them back in the cool water. They seemed to make a competition of it, seeing whose fish was bigger and how many fish they could catch.
Ten minutes had gone by, everyone but y/n catching a fish. “Maybe you were right Pope, I’ve clearly got some bad juju following me.” She huffed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Nah, you’re just not doing it right.” JJ motioned her over to him where he stood at the bow, having y/n watch him cast. “See, I cast it out and I let it sink a bit before I start slowly reeling in. You gotta jiggle it a bit now and then too. Now you try.” He reeled in completely, his eyes on her as she took her turn. She listened to his notes, casting out far and waiting briefly before she started to reel, stopping after a few turns of the handle to jiggle her line. Sure enough, after a few turns of the handle she felt a bite, tugging sharply to ensure it was on the hook. Her line started moving from left to right as the fish tried to swim away.
“Fuck, I got one!” She cried out, reeling it in bit by bit, listening to JJ as he coached her through it. Soon enough the fish was above the water, y/n jumping up and down happily. The Pogues clapped behind her, cheering her on as she put her finger in the fish's mouth just as she had seen Sarah do, carefully freeing the hook from where it had been caught.
“We need to document this!” Kiara stated, opening the camera on her phone. “Say...fish food!” Y/N smiled at the camera, allowing the woman to snap a few pictures before she looked up at JJ proudly.
“Great job, and now a kiss.” JJ instructed, taking a swig from his second beer.
“For you or the fish?” The boat became dead silent at y/n’s words, JJ’s cheeks flashing crimson as he choked on the swig of beer. “I’m kidding.” That was a lie, she would’ve kissed him. She pecked the fish near its eyes before tossing it back into the water with a smile.
They continued to fish until the sun started to lower in the sky, y/n finally catching five and Kiara catching the most with eleven. The Pogues settled back into the boat, the music softly playing, the fishing poles now stashed away as they continued to sip on their beers.
“So, y/n, you said it’s just you and your sister?” Sarah chirped, leaning back into John B’s embrace.
“Uh yeah, she’s great. She’s actually working a double shift tonight at the hospital, but she told me to tell you guys hello and she can’t wait to meet you all sometime.” Pope trolled the boat on the route back towards the docks, taking another swig from his can.
“What about your parents?” He blurted out, receiving a hard smack from Kiara.
“You don’t have to answer that y/n.” She retorted, a death glare meeting Pope’s confused expression.
“N-No, it’s alright.” She swallowed, looking down at her hands as she continued. She’d eventually have to share; it might as well be now. And she’d had three beers, the liquid courage all she needed. “Well, my parents, my sister, and I lived here until I was three. My mom moved us after...well, after my dad shot himself. He battled with depression his whole life and the depression finally won.” John B turned the music off as she spoke, everyone going silent, even JJ.
“My mom couldn’t enjoy living here after my dad’s death, so she packed us up and we moved to Montana. My Aunt and Uncle live out there, so she wanted to be closer to family. My mom became a shell of a person, she couldn’t get over losing my dad and so she coped with alcohol. She was good at hiding it at first, sipping from a water bottle at my sister’s high school graduation, or adding a splash to her morning cup of coffee. Eventually it just got worse and she developed cirrhosis of the liver. She died a year ago from it.” Y/N cleared her throat with a sip of beer. “Enough of my sad, shitty life, the sunsets sure are beautiful here.”
JJ knew how she felt, all too well. Though his mother left him, and his piece of shit father was alive, he knew the struggles of having a parent with an addiction. He put a hand on her thigh, startling her briefly before her body untensed, enjoying the comforting gesture.
“Yeah, it really is.” Kiara agreed, eager to move the conversation away from y/n’s family, as it was clear she was done talking about it. “Ya’ll down for a dip?” Before anyone can protest Kiara is shimmying out of her shorts and top, her body clad in a navy-blue bikini as she hopped off the boat into the water.
“Hell yeah!” Pope added, pulling off his shirt as he dove in next to her. Sarah and John B joined them, jumping hand-in-hand off the boat.
“Shit, I forgot to put my bottoms on.” Y/N noted, Kiara leaning up on the edge of the boat beside the woman.
“It’s fine, just go in your underwear. It’s basically the same thing.” She let go of the boat, floating on her back in the water.
JJ stood up beside y/n, tossing his shirt off, giving y/n a view of his bare chest. His chest was tanned from the sun and chiseled; his arm muscles taut as he stretched them over his head. He met her gaze, a smirk playing on his lips as he noticed her eyes on him.
“C’mon, princess.” He joked before he dove off the boat and under the water, emerging seconds later, shaking out his blonde locks.
“Alright, I’m coming.” Y/N pulled her shirt up and set it on the seat, JJ’s eyes instinctively taking in her breasts clothed in a tiny orange bikini top. She pushed down her shorts, her black lace cheeky panties catching JJ’s attention, his breath hitching in his throat. Her body was gorgeous. She moved to the edge of the boat, John B and Sarah egging her on as she jumped in.
The water was cool, enveloping her body and refreshing her skin. She stayed under for a moment before resurfacing, whipping her hair off her face. They all waded around in the water, John B and Pope starting a war over who could splash the other the hardest.
JJ floated over to y/n, taking in the sight of her again beside him. Breathtaking, as always. “Sorry about your parents.” He mumbled, running a hand through his wet, shaggy hair.
“It’s alright, I’ve been through tons of therapy by now to know ‘it’s not my fault’, ‘addiction is a disease’, ‘depression can develop in the happiest people’. Blah, blah, blah.” She mocked herself, her lip quivering slightly at her words.
“My dad’s an alcoholic and a drug addict.” JJ admitted. “Used to beat the shit outta me. Luckily that bastard is far gone, haven’t seen him since he left over a year ago. So, we’ve got that in common. The parent with an addition, I mean. And you know, I’m here for you. Or whatever.” He mumbled, trying to seem nonchalant about the offer.
“Thanks, JJ. You’re a good guy.” It had been awhile since he heard that, but it made his heart soar knowing she felt that way.
They swam until the sun had disappeared in the sky, heading into shore and docking the boat once again. They had air-dried by that point and pulled their clothes back on, everyone hopping out of the boat and heading for the van.
“Alright, John B do you mind dropping me off at The Wreck? I promised to help my parents clean up tonight.” Kiara asked, leaning back against the seat of the van.
“Yeah, sure Kie. We’ll drop you off first.” They drove towards The Wreck, everyone exhausted from the day of school followed by their boating adventure. As the gang talked amongst themselves, y/n’s eyes started to drift shut, her body lulling until she leaned her head against JJ’s shoulder, startling him at first. He took one look at her sleeping, a smile creeping onto his face, and he let her sleep, his fingers tracing lightly against the skin of her thigh as they drove.
They dropped Kiara off first, then Pope, dropping Sarah off at her place after, but not before she gave John B a soft goodnight kiss.
“Alright, let’s head to y/n’s place.” John B looked back at JJ, noticing y/n still asleep on his shoulder.
“Let her sleep, JB. We can just bring her back to your place for the night.” JJ announced, his hand still tracing her thigh.
“Dude, you’ve got it so bad for her.” John B replied, backing out of Sarah’s driveway and heading towards the Château.
“Shut up.” He retorted, shooting up his middle finger for John B to see in his rearview mirror.
“Is it so bad if you did? I’m with Sarah, and I couldn’t imagine my life without her.” John B turned down the road towards his place, glancing at JJ from his mirror every so often.
“M’not good at this stuff, JB.” JJ had never really held down a steady relationship. He got girls, for sure, but all were just one-night stands, nothing more. If he was being totally honest, he didn’t know if he deserved to be loved by someone like John B and Sarah. He didn’t know if someone could actually love all his broken pieces, and he didn’t want to feel like a burden on anyone.
The van pulled to a stop, John B hopping out and heading inside. JJ wrapped one arm behind y/n’s back, scooting her until his other arm scooped under her legs, pulling her up and out of the back seat. He carried her in his arms, y/n’s eyes fluttering open, blinking in the night sky.
“What are you doing?” She mumbled, her head lulling to look up at JJ as they entered the shack.
“I didn’t want to wake you, you just looked...peaceful. We can take you home if you’d like.” Y/N shook her head, letting him carry her until he kicked open his bedroom door, setting her down gently onto his comforter.
“I’ll stay, if that’s okay. I don’t really enjoy being home alone when Bailey’s gone all night.” She fell back against his bed, taking in the sight of his room. It was messy, but she expected that from a guy like him, although the comforter was soft and his mattress plush underneath her back.
“Yeah, of course you can stay. You can stay here anytime.” He glanced at her as she pushed her body under his covers, nuzzling her face into his pillow. “M’gonna sleep on the couch. If you need me, you can come get me…” Before he could finish his sentence y/n’s eyes closed, her breathing heavier as she drifted to unconsciousness again.
“Goodnight, y/n.” JJ whispered, creeping out of his room and shutting the door. He walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, a huge smile on his face. She had him wrapped around her finger, an angel in his hell, and she had know idea.
Tagging those who may be interested. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged: @midnightf, @serendipityrogers, @bucksmotel, @eireduchess, @fuckandfluff, @moniamaybank, @astrydis, @sokovianheadtilt, @blackwiddows, @matbarzalschain, @bigassnocash, @sspidermanss
#doubleleoenergyseries: The Princess and the Pogue#the princess and the pogue outfits#jj maybank#outer banks#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x fem!reader
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hi. you still taking prompts? sambucky meet cute: the lobby of some kind of really tall building and they both have to get to the to top floors. bucky gets to the elevator first, pushes the "door close" button cause he's in a hurry even though he sees sam rushing towards it, but sam gets there just in time. he saw what bucky did so in retaliation he just pushes every single button to make bucky late. now they're stuck in the longest elevator ride, having to stop at every floor
Friend, this is not a meet cute. This is full on meet ugly 😅
AO3 link in the reblog
Push All My Buttons
Bucky was being haunted. That was the only logical explanation for how someone followed him from Brooklyn to Manhattan, mostly on foot. He’d seen the same guy on two trains, across approximately a thousand city blocks, and in the dumb cafe that Bucky squeezed into five seconds after it opened.
And now, the same handsome young black man was standing in the middle of the Stark Tower lobby, looking lost. Bucky quickly hit the close door button of the elevator that he blessedly had to himself. Apparently, he hit it too loud because the guy’s gaze snapped over to him and recognition lit on his face.
Bucky hit Close Door again.
“Hey! Could you hold that!” the guy called, jogging across the lobby floor and avoiding milling people. The fucking tourists on the ground level were killer.
Bucky was not letting a stalker into the elevator with him when he had 91 floors to get up. He hit Close Door for a third time.
Finally, the guy seemed to realize what Bucky was doing and he scowled before tossing his army bag towards the closing doors. They hit the bag and opened up just in time for the guy to jog over, grab his bag, and step inside.
“You’re kind of an asshole,” he said as he slung the duffle over his shoulder again.
“I’m late to a meeting,” Bucky said, which was true. Mostly what he wanted to say was ‘don’t kill me and wear my face as a mask’ or whatever someone who’d followed him over three boroughs would want to do.
The man looked over at him from the corner of his eyes, looked at the highlighted 91 and then reached over to smooth his hand up every single button on the machine. 2-93 lit up.
Bucky stared.
The man crossed his arms. “Now we’re both late.”
92 and 93 unlit themselves. Those were Stark’s personal suites. 2-91 remained lit.
“You fucking asshole,” Bucky groaned and dragged his hands over his face. “Why would you do that? I’m meeting with Stark. I’ve got his-his-his fucking coffee. Jesus.”
“Because I’d rather be late and piss you off than be on time and let you get away with trying to close the door in my face.”
“What was the point of following me all the way around the city? Are you trying to make my life difficult?”
Now the man fully turned to look over at him. The elevator stopped on the second floor and no one was waiting. “I’m not following you. I don’t even know who you are.”
“Are you kidding?” Bucky asked. “You’ve been on my ass since Lloyd’s, in Brooklyn.”
The man frowned. The elevator eased up to the next floor. “Why would you stop at Lloyd’s if you were coming all the way in here?”
“I like to eat on my commute, that’s not the point! You followed me!”
“Pal, I dunno how to tell you that anyone coming from Brooklyn to Stark Tower’s gotta take a pretty similar route.”
“It’s Bucky, pal.”
“Sam,” the guy said and then honest to God offered his hand out like he wasn’t actively ruining Bucky’s life.
On the fifth floor, someone stepped into the elevator, looked at the buttons and stepped back out. Bucky shook Sam’s hand with a resigned sigh.
“Where’d you get that piece of machinery on your arm?” Sam asked around floor eight.
“It’s not on my arm,” Bucky answered. “It is my arm.”
Sam rolled his eyes and punched the door close button. “Fine, where’d you get that piece of machinery on your torso?”
“It’s not Stark tech,” he answered because he knew that was actually what Sam was asking about. He let his eyes slide over Sam’s body quickly, trying to discern if Sam was here for a prosthetic. The bag on his shoulder and the silver ball-chain around his neck gave away that he was military. Stark Industries had a veterans program, so there was a good population of soldiers walking around the building at any given time. Sam was wearing pants, so Bucky couldn’t be totally sure he didn’t have a bad leg, but he hadn’t clocked any limp or awkward gait since Brooklyn. “You here for a prosthetic?” he asked anyway.
Sam snorted and shook his head. The door opened again and someone got on before reaching to press the ground level button.
“Shit,” the woman said, upon seeing everything else lit up. She quickly hit the door open button and jumped back out. “You know, if you two wanted extra time together, having the doors open on every floor was probably a bad idea.”
“That’s not what we--” Bucky started to argue, but the doors slid shut in front of him.
“Anyway,” Sam started again. “I’m not here for a prosthetic. I’m here with Colonel Rhodes.”
“Wow, big man on campus,” Bucky said drily.
“Oh, right, you’re so unimportant, going up to the 91st floor,” Sam shot back.
“I work here,” Bucky said. He held up the quickly cooling coffee in his hands. “Glorified secretary most days, but I’m supposed to be an engineer.”
“What kind of machines do you work with?”
“Not the planes or the suits. Military tech, mostly. I try to stay away from weapons when I can.”
“Did you serve?” Sam asked.
Wish I hadn’t, Bucky wanted to say. “Nah, actually I lost my arm when Stark flew into an uncaffeinated rage and threw a saw at me.”
“Whatever, man. There’s a thousand ways to lose an arm. It ain’t gotta be out in the desert.” His cheeks didn’t quite color, but he crossed his arms and stared ahead.
“Mountains,” Bucky corrected. “Special OPs.”
“Oh, right, but I’m the big man on campus,” Sam said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
“Rhodes is a big deal around here. You think Stark’s letting him out of his sight for just anyone?”
“The Air Force is testing a new gadget. Rhodes is involved ‘cause Air Force. Maybe you worked on it.”
“Yeah, maybe. It’s a big program. Stark’s got a lot of things going on all at once. Lots of engineers and designers.”
The elevator stopped on the 25th floor and Sam and Bucky both said, “We’re going up,” at the same time to keep the group of suits from crowding into the elevator with them.
Sam kicked his bag into the corner and sat down heavily in front of it, leaning back and closing his eyes. “So you’re a soldier who works for Stark Industries but didn’t get your prosthetic from him, even though he’s the cutting edge of prosthetics and has a full-paid program for those injured in duty.”
Bucky gave up and sat down too. He cradled the coffee cup between his legs, which was probably a bad idea, but this whole morning had been bad. “My story’s a little more complicated than that,” he said. “A lot more twists and turns. My arm is still high tech, though. I asked for a flamethrower, or at least a saw hand but I didn’t get it.”
Sam laughed and, for the first time all morning, Bucky thought maybe he wasn’t so angry at him anymore. Sam laughed like nothing had ever hurt him before, which made it feel like maybe nothing had hurt Bucky either. “Well, there’s your problem. Stark would’ve definitely given you that, from what I hear about the man.”
Bucky grinned over at him and dropped his head back against the wall. It was uncomfortable and the jostling of the car every few seconds rattled his brain, but it beat standing up, or keeping his eyes on Sam for too long. “You’re still in the service?”
“Well, not all of us are so lucky to get a medical discharge on our first tour.”
“Oh, yeah, real luck of the Irish, me. And it was my second. I wasn’t SpecOps until I finished my first stint in the army.”
“Right, right,” Sam said. Then, “You joined up young.”
“So did you. I mean, I assume you’re on your second or third tour too, if you’re being asked to work with Rhodes.”
“Second. I took a long leave to do some school stuff.”
“Oh, so working with Rhodes and you’re smart. You really are the whole package.”
“I’m working with Colonel Rhodes because I’m smart,” Sam corrected. “I could probably take your job. I’m real techy.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. I’m fond of my apartment and I definitely can’t afford it without being here.”
“Right, I assume you make buck working for Stark.”
“Eh, he’s still a multi-billionaire, he could pay us more.”
“What’s that say about the military then?”
“I’ll drink to that, bro.”
Sam chuckled again and opened his eyes to glance over at Bucky. “How does someone go from losing their arm in a SpecOps mission to working for Stark Industries.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It’s at least a three course discussion.”
The elevator dinged on level 39 and paused, though there was no one there.
“Almost halfway up,” Sam pointed out.
“You are good at math,” Bucky joked just to see Sam roll his eyes again, which he did. “Why Air Force?” he asked when the doors decided to shut again.
“It’s gonna sound so stupid, but I’ve been dreaming about flying since I was a little kid. I wanted to be an astronaut and a lot of astronauts were in the military. So, air force. Figured if I never got to space, at least I spent years in the air anyway.”
Bucky didn’t think that was stupid at all. “You’re right, that’s pretty dumb.” Sam flipped him off with a laugh. “Are you a good pilot?”
“Pal, I’m one of the best out there.”
“God, you chair force guys are all the same,” Bucky said. He squawked as Sam leaned over to tackle him down. “Coffee, coffee! Sam, if you spill Stark’s coffee I’ll make you explain it to him!” he threatened as Sam pulled him away from the cup that had managed to remain upright by an unlikely bout of luck and physics.
Sam was fucking strong, wrangling Bucky down and holding him still. Sure, he was on his knees and Bucky’s legs were mostly trapped under him, but still. Bucky wasn’t a small guy and the prosthetic wasn’t light either but Sam had tugged him out of the corner anyway.
“Oh my God, seriously?” a guy asked on the next floor.
Bucky took the moment of distraction to dig his knee into Sam’s ribs and flip them over as the doors shut again. He locked his fingers around Sam’s wrist and held it to the floor. Sam tugged at the hold futilely.
“Shit, what’s that made out of?”
“That’s another three course answer.”
“At this rate? No chance,” Sam said and got his foot braced against Bucky’s shoulder before shoving him off. Bucky sat back and made sure the coffee was still standing. Sam leaned up against the wall by the doors. They both took in heavy breaths.
“What are you doing with Rhodes?” Bucky asked at floor fifty, when he was pretty positive they weren’t about to leap at each other again.
“Maybe that’s a three course answer,” Sam responded with a small smirk.
“I didn’t know Stark was working on planes with the Air Force.”
“Did I say plane?”
“Helicopters, whatever,” Bucky amended with a wave of his hand. “What do you fly?”
“I’m pararescue.”
Bucky let out a low whistle. “Shit, that’s more impressive than working with Rhodes, maybe. You a doctor?”
“I’ve got triage training, but I’m not, like, ready to walk into an E.R. as soon as I get home or anything.” Sam ran his hand over his buzzed hair and Bucky suddenly wanted to know what it looked like grown out, or if he’d ever kept it long. How he styled it and if he had facial hair and what he was hiding under his shirt and Jesus Christ, he needed to think about anything else.
“Well, from what I’ve seen, your beside manner probably sucks.”
Sam kicked out his foot lamely, missing Bucky’s by a mile. “You ain’t hurt. I don’t gotta give you no bedside manner.”
“What floor do you want off on?” Bucky asked after a glance at the rapidly dimming lights on on the button panel.
“85.”
“Right, yeah, Rhodes works there. We’re at 70 now.”
“What’s it like? Just offices?”
“Nah, he’s got a whole training floor. There’re a few offices, a reception area, but there’s also a gym and some space for simulated battle, sparring rooms. It’s pretty cool. You’ll have a lot of room for whatever he’s doing.”
Sam nodded and looked over at the gaping doors with the first look of unease he’d had all morning.
“You nervous?”
“You would be too,” Sam answered. “If you knew what I was doing. But, hey,” he looked away as the doors shut, “my partner’s already up there, so I can’t make any more of a fool of myself than he probably already has.”
Bucky grinned and shrugged. “I dunno about that. You seem pretty incapable,” he said sarcastically.
Sam kicked out his leg again and then stood up and grabbed his bag from next to Bucky. “You work here every day?”
Bucky nodded and took Sam’s hand when he offered it down to him to haul himself up. “9 to too late.”
“Well, I’m around for a few weeks. Maybe we could walk together instead of around each other next time,” he suggested.
Bucky ignored the swooping of his stomach. “Yeah, if you can keep up.”
Sam jostled his ribs with an elbow. “I can keep up. You’re the one with the machine on your arm.”
“Yeah, and what about it? I could hand-walk faster than you could run.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Sam snorted. The door opened on floor 80 and Sam’s mouth screwed to one side briefly before he looked at Bucky. “Maybe you’ll get my number out of all of this eventually.”
“Maybe I don’t want it after this stunt.”
Sam placed his hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder solemnly. “You want it.”
With a grin, Bucky shrugged Sam off and shoved him forward. “Get outta here, Wilson.”
“How’d you know--?” Sam asked, taking half a step back to the doors.
Bucky reached over to trace his fingers over the name patch on the other side of the bag. “I’m just a good guesser.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. What’s your--”
The door shut between them and Bucky sagged back against the wall with a sigh. His heart was racing like he was a teenager again and his head felt cloudy. This meeting was not going to go well at this point. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus on anything but Sam’s smile or the way he looked in boots or the weight of him above Bucky’s body.
When the elevator dinged on 91, he grabbed Stark’s coffee and let himself off and then almost immediately ran into Rhodes.
“Oh, hey, sorry. Hey, I was just on the elevator with your meeting,” he said. “Sorry he’s late. I hit a bunch of buttons on accident when I got in,” Bucky lied as he passed the coffee to Stark.
“No harm, no foul,” Rhodey said easily. “Clearly I wasn’t even down there. I was actually waiting on you.”
“Me? What for? I’m not working on anything military.”
“You’re not?” Stark asked around a mouthful of coffee. “You assigning yourself projects now?”
“You didn’t say anything about the wings being military. I mean, how would that even work? It’d put a soldier in the air bare.”
“Yeah,” Stark agreed sarcastically and clapped a hand down on Bucky’s metal arm. “What kind of soldier runs around without full body protection.”
“What are you calling the project?” Rhodey asked, guiding the discussion back to where it was supposed to be.
“EXO-Falcon,” Bucky said. “I was modeling it after some of Stark’s EXO-skeleton suits, but it’s much more compact, situated on the back with all support sitting around the chest and ribs.”
Rhodey nodded. “Can I see them?”
Bucky quickly dashed to his work bench and came back with the wings in their case. “They’re carbon fiber, which makes them a little more flexible and keeps them a little lighter weight. I had thought about doing interlocking plates like my arm, but it wasn’t working. I took some of the more basic structures of my arm and modeled a folding mechanism out of it instead. The wings retract into and out of the case.”
He pulled the jetpack on and stepped away from the other work spaces before clicking the wings open. They snapped out behind him, grand and proud. Not unlike how Bucky was feeling at that moment.
“And the jetpack? Is that ready to go?” Rhodey asked.
Bucky shifted from foot to foot. “Well, in theory. I haven’t tested it out yet ‘cause I’m not trained to do things like that, but I’ve put DUM-E into the air and nothing blew up.”
“Well, the Air National Guard guys here today will be thrilled to hear that,” Stark said. “Shall we?”
“You don’t wanna test the jets before you put it on someone?” Bucky asked, a little strangled. He trusted his design. But he really, really hadn’t put as much time into the whole human safety element as he did the ‘up and running’ element.
“We’ll strap a crash test dummy to them in over the mats. It’ll be fine. The fire suppression system on 85 is better than up here.”
“No it isn’t. It’s just further from your suites,” Rhodey said.
Stark shrugged and tossed a piece of pastry in his mouth. “It’s my building. I say we go down to 85.”
“Well, that’s where I left your trainee or whatever too,” Bucky said as he shrugged off the pack and packed it all back up. “Do you want me to grab the other pack?”
“No worries, I’ve already moved it,” Stark said. “I knew Rhodes was coming by. You’re welcome, those things are heavy.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t have DUM-E move it,” Rhodey teased. He made his way over to the elevator and Bucky followed with Stark on his heels. The ride down to 85 was much faster than the ride up to 91. It was a miracle what not hitting every button could do. They stepped out onto the floor and made their way to the training mats, where two other people were already standing.
“Barnes, I’d like to keep you on the Falcon project,” Rhodey said. “No one knows the wings like you do. That being said, you’ll be working with live test subjects now, so it’s a little more critical.”
“Hey, you don’t have to say it that way!” the blond man in the middle of the room said. “Call us, like, Top Guns or something.”
“You don’t get to choose your nickname around here,” Stark called over, propping himself up on a stack of sparring mats to watch from afar. “Ask Manchurian Candidate. He definitely didn’t choose his.”
Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Barnes, this Sergeant Wiatrek and Sergeant Wilson.”
Fuck.
“It’s Barnes, huh?” Sam asked, smugly crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, Sammy, you didn’t hook up with this guy already did you?” the blond asked in teasing horror.
“Screw you, no. I met him this morning.”
“Ah,” Rhodey said with a grin. “This was the meeting you made late,” he said to Bucky.
“Yeah, we met this morning,” Bucky confirmed with a raging blush. How was this his life?
“Well, good, you can get right to work on the wings,” Rhodey said. “Let me go find a crash dummy.”
“DUM-E,” Stark called as Rhodey started away.
“I’ll find that doll first,” Rhodey challenged.
Bucky turned from their bickering and looked at Sam, then the blond next to him.
“It’s Riley,” the other man said and offered out his hand. “I’m better conversation than this one.”
Bucky doubted it. He shook the guy’s hand and then held out the briefcase like a shield between him and Sam’s teasing gaze. “Do you wanna see the wings?”
Riley nodded eagerly and Bucky moved to another stack of mats to open the case. Riley and Sam stood on either side of him. As Riley pulled the jetpack free, Sam pulled out his phone. Bucky thought he was going to film his friend inevitably crashing, but instead he turned on the auto-help.
“Hey, where’s the nearest three-course restaurant?” he asked without looking away from Bucky, without his grin faltering.
Bucky dragged his hands down his face as he looked at Sam. Riley yelped behind them after the tell-tell whoosh of the jet pack, but Sam still didn’t look away. Bucky couldn’t either.
#sambucky#sambucky fanfic#sambucky fanfiction#sam wilson#bucky barnes#the falcon and the winter soldier#the falcon#the winter soldier#fanfiction#fanfic#writing#i answer things
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Small (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister imagine)
Grab your snacks because this is a long one.
Warning: graphic depictions of violence.
Being short and able to fit into small spaces had its perks...but you didn't think it would come in handy in such a dire situation as this. Your mind wandered back to who knows how many hours ago, reminding you of how you got in the situation and what the current situation entailed. Needless to say, you were currently in hell.
***
"Sev? What are you doing here?" you asked as you opened the front door to reveal Kelly Severide holding a six-pack of beer.
"Heard your brother just worked a really tough case. He here?" Kelly asked.
"He's in the shower. Voight gave him the day off after the case yesterday. But, c'mon in."
You stepped out of the way and allowed Kelly to enter, and closed the door. You went back over to the kitchen where you were pouring yourself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. After all, it was only nine in the morning.
"Want anything?" you asked Kelly.
"I'm good, thanks. But if you could put these in the fridge that'd be great."
"Only if I can have one," you joked, grabbing the beer and putting it on a shelf in the fridge.
"If your brother wasn't here, I probably would let you."
"Kelly?" Jay asked walking out of the bathroom in a pair of jeans, still without a shirt on as it was in his hand.
"My eyes!" you yelled, quickly covering them with your hand.
"Do you ever leave the bathroom with a shirt on? Or do you just put it on once you're out?" Kelly laughed.
"It's my house. I can do what I want."
"Well, put the damn shirt on. You're scarring the poor kid."
"Fine, fine, okay." He slipped the shirt over his head. "You're good now."
You uncovered your eyes and took a sip of your coffee. You were about to swallow when Jay decided it wasn't too early to mess with you. "Not like she hasn't seen dudes shirtless before. She really wants to see that one kid from her political science class shirtless."
"Excuse you?" you exclaimed after you had spit your coffee back into your mug, causing Kelly to look at you with a disgusted look on his face. "I do not!"
"You're not exactly quiet when you talk on the phone with Emma, Y/N," Jay smirked.
"You see this, Kelly? This is the shit I have to put up with every day."
Kelly decided to smack Jay upside the head. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"
"Be nice to your sister!" Kelly laughed. "Or else I'll tell her that I caught you and Hailey making out in your truck on my way out of Molly's the other night!"
"I knew it! I knew you guys were in love with each other! Kelly, I need you to put that statement in writing because Will now owes me fifty bucks."
"Wait, you guys made bets on my love life?" Jay asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"So, he is in love with her!" Kelly yelled, giving you a high five.
"Okay, enough about me," Jay started, effectively putting an end to that conversation. "What are you even doing here?" he asked, turning to Kelly.
"I heard about your case last night and I figured you could use some company. I brought beer."
"Great. Once I finish my coffee, we can break into that. You catch the Bears game the other day?"
And, now that they were talking about the glorified game of catch that was football, you took that as your cue to leave.
***
A reminder popped up on your phone at 11 am sharp. Tell Jay that low oil light came on in car it read.
You walked out into the living room only to hear Kelly say, "I'm tellin' you man, girls love that shit."
You assumed that shit was some sex thing...so you didn't want to know in the slightest. You cleared your throat, and Jay turned to you with wide-eyes.
"Uh, Y/N, how much of that did you happen to hear?"
"All I heard was him saying girls love that shit. Thank God I didn't hear more. But, my low oil light came on, so can change it?"
"The light or the oil?" Jay asked, taking another sip of his beer.
You squinted your eyes at him. "The oil. I'm stupid when it comes to cars, but I'm not that stupid."
"I'll do it in an hour."
"I have a class at three."
Jay groaned. "Seriously? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because it just came on yesterday?" Jay raised an eyebrow. "Okay, fine it came on three days ago. But in my defense, you haven't been home during the day and it's hard to change the oil in the dark."
"I can do it in the dark," Kelly pointed out.
"I can do it in the dark," Jay mocked. "Of course you can, because you're a firefighter. I don't suppose you know how to fire a sniper do you?"
"Dude, I'm a firefighter, not a cop!"
"Listen, I don't care who changes it faster or who can do it in the dark. Jay, just please change my oil."
"Uh, fine," Jay groaned, standing up from the couch.
"No, I can do it," Kelly offered.
"You sure?" Jay asked.
"As long as you buy me lunch."
"I knew there was a catch. But, sure. Me and Y/N will go pick up lunch and we'll bring some to Will too and we'll be back before she has to leave for her class at three." He turned to you. "Sound good?"
"When have I ever passed up the opportunity for free food?"
"Never?" Jay guessed.
"Exactly," you answered, grabbing your car keys off the hook and tossing them to Kelly.
If you knew what was about to happen, you would have definitely stayed home.
***
"So, care to elaborate on you and Hailey?" you asked Jay as you were on your way to Chicago Med to drop off some food from Mama Garcia's to Will.
"If you give me that fifty bucks Will's gonna pay you, then I might just enlighten you."
"Nah, I'll just have Kelly tell me everything he knows instead. Or I can ask Ruzek--"
You were cut off by the sound of sirens behind you. "What the hell? I wasn't even speeding," Jay muttered.
"For once in your life," you shot back.
"Shut it."
Jay rolled the truck to a stop and you shot a look behind you. No one had gotten out of the car yet.
"They're probably just running my plates," Jay answered, seeing as you looked confused. "Some cops are weird and run 'em before they get out of the car. I made the mistake of doing that once when I was a rookie and the suspect fled."
"Oooh, did you get in trouble? I hope you got yelled at!"
Jay looked behind him at the cops who stepped out of the car. At first, he thought they might have been plain-clothed officers, but why would plain-clothed officers be driving a squad car? Then, he looked closer and it was as if he was transported back to four years ago.
"Y/N--"
"I was kidding, I don't care if you got yelled at or--"
"Y/N!" Jay yelled. "I need you to get down now, and call 911. Tell them my name and tell them to ping your phone."
"Jay, what's going on?" You slid off your seat and curled up into a ball on the floor, pulling out your phone.
"Just do it, dammit!"
Jay reached for his gun that he kept hidden in the glove compartment as your fingers flew across your phone.
You heard the tell-tale sound of a window being broken and looked up the see Jay covering his face, gun still in hand. Jay tried to push open the door, but before he could, the door was ripped open and he was dragged out of the car. "Detective Halstead. So, we meet again," you heard a deep voice say.
"Hello, 911 what's your emergency?"
"Detective Jay Halstead, intelligence. Ping this phone," was all you could manage to get out.
"You hear that?" another voice asked. "Sounded like a girl and it came from his truck."
"I'm alone!" Jay yelled. "I just came to pick up some food is all!" he protested. In a normal situation, he would've tried to fight back. But, this wasn't a normal situation. He needed them to take him wherever it was they wanted him and he needed them to do it fast so that they didn't find you.
"I don't know about that, Detective. Where's the fire from the last time I saw you? You never go down without a fight. Are you protecting someone, is that it?" He paused and nodded to his associate. "Check his car."
"You son of a-- Ahhhhh!" Jay writhed as a taser struck his stomach.
"Jay!" You jumped up at the sound of your brother's cries of pain. He never showed weakness, so this was bad.
"Take her!" the man who was holding Jay yelled.
You jumped out of the car and started running, but they were too fast and caught up to you within five steps.
"Let me go! Let me go!" you yelled as you struggled and kicked your legs out as you were picked up off the ground.
You saw Jay trying to fight his captor as well, but it was no use because as soon as he got tased again and showed weakness for a second time, they tied his hands behind his back. "Y/N, stop fighting," Jay gritted out. "It'll-- only get-- worse."
"Let go of me you fucking asshole!" you yelled, swinging your arms, hoping that you got him in the nose.
"Derek, I think this bitch needs a little lesson in obedience," the one who was holding you said.
"I'll do that in a second." He pulled out a syringe.
"Don't!" you yelled as you watched what he was doing. But it was too late, the syringe full of sedatives had already been plunged into your older brother's shoulder, ending all your hopes of escape.
"Now for you," he walked over, twirling a knife in his hands. He handed it to his associate, who held it against your throat.
"You scream or move, you die."
***
Jay woke up to a pain in his shoulder. All he could think was Not again. Not fucking Derek Keyes again.
But then, he heard your screams of pain coming from the other room and that immediately snapped him out of his groggy state. He had to get out of here. He could be tortured like an animal, after all, he'd already been through it once, but there was no way in hell he was going to sit back and allow it to happen to you.
He tugged on the ropes securing him to the pipe and tried to jam his shoulder into it to make it loose. It moved slightly and he knew that if he had time, he could get out of it.
You would no longer laugh at the story of Jay going through taser certification or laugh at how much he bitched about having to be recertified each year. Because God, taking a taser to the stomach hurt like hell. And, what made it even worse was that you were chained to the ceiling, so because of your short stature, you couldn't even put a toe on the ground. So now, when you were tased or hit, despite trying to double over, you would just swing back and forth, like a tormented and tortured rag doll.
"J-Jay!" you yelled as you were tased in the stomach and swung back once more.
"He won't put himself through this again, sweetheart. After all, he knows what's it's like. He'll just let you take one for the team this time."
"Liar," you gasped out.
"I have a better idea. How about we play a little game, just you and me." He fiddled with your bra strap that was falling down your left shoulder. They had ripped your shirt off before they had begun tasing you. You were just thankful they had let you keep your jeans on. "Don't you want to know what the game is?"
"No--" you were cut off by being tased in the shoulder, causing you to scream out.
"Not the answer I was looking for. Let's try this again, shall we? Do you want to know what the game is?"
"Y-Yes."
"See now that wasn't so hard." Keyes put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from swinging. "The game is simple. I give you a choice between two clothing items. You choose the one you want to take off and then...well, you'll see what happens from there. Now, here's your choice: bra or jeans?"
"Wh-what?" you stuttered.
"Did I stutter, bitch? Make your decision, bra or jeans?"
"Jeans," you gasped. At least you had underwear underneath. And, if he took off your bra and tased you there, well, you did not want to know how that felt.
He pulled out a knife and you instinctively tried to sway back away from him. Keyes chuckled. "Don't worry. This won't come near your face...yet."
Then, you heard the ripping of denim as your jeans were quite literally cut off of your body.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you the rest of the game," Keyes smirked. "Wherever I take clothes of off, you take a taser hit to." Without even giving you time to process what he had said, he stuck the taser into your left leg, causing a burning and writhing sensation to go up your entire body.
"Mercy! Mercy!" you yelled out. Honestly, at this point, you wished you would just pass out.
"One last choice," Keyes started, twirling the knife between his fingers. "I can continue having all my fun with you or I can get your brother and--"
"Jay. Take Jay," you gritted your teeth and said without thinking of the repercussions of your actions.
"What you want, you get."
Keyes unchained your hands and you all but fell into his arms to avoid falling on the cold, hard concrete. He tugged your arm, pulling you up and you could've sworn if he pulled any harder, that your shoulder would have popped out of its socket. He then dragged you over to a large steel door, put in a code, and pushed it open, causing it to scrape against the floor.
That's when you heard him. Jay.
"Let her go you fucking animals!"
"Oh, we're letting her go alright," Keyes chuckled sinisterly as he got closer and closer to the light of the small flickering lightbulb that was hanging from the ceiling, giving the space you and Jay were currently being held an eerie glow. "But the deal was her for you."
***
You didn't know how much time had passed. You tried to keep your mind off of Jay's screams from the torture chamber by translating all your thoughts into Spanish. That only helped for the first few though, because they all had to do with pain.
Me duele. Me duele. Me duele.
I hurt. I hurt. I hurt.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
You were currently tied to a pole about six inches away from the rectangular-looking pipe that Jay had been tied to before Keyes took him. Everything Jay had taught you about survival had gone out the window. Not that you thought it mattered. All he had taught you to really do was how to break zip ties if your wrists and ankles were zip-tied together and if you needed to hit someone, hit their nose with the heel of your hand and then run as fast as possible while their vision was blurry.
Your shoulders ached from holding your weight for so long and the bleeding on your stomach had slowed to a trickle after all those taser hits. Your thigh was still numb from the worst taser hit of them all, but you were slowly regaining feeling in it.
You heard moaning coming from the left of you and turned your head to see a shirtless Jay being dragged back over to you. His face was already bruising and there was blood dripping down his torso. As he got closer, you couldn't even bear to look at him. You were the one who caused this. You were the one who made him go through all this pain. If you would've just taken what Keyes was giving you, Jay wouldn't be hurting as much--if not more--than you were.
They tied Jay to the pipe once more and then Keyes crouched down to your height. You resisted the urge to spit in his face. "I hope he forgives you." He began to caress your face, causing you to grit your teeth to keep from crying out, in fear or disgust, you weren't sure which. "Because I sure as hell wouldn't, sweetheart."
"Get your-- hands-- off her," Jay heavily panted next to you.
"Nobody asked you!" The echo of the slap Jay had just received from Keyes could be heard throughout the entire basement, causing you to flinch backward, hitting your head on the pole.
"Ah, fuck," you muttered through gritted teeth.
"Now, I'm gonna go make a few phone calls, eat some food, maybe have some friends over." At the mention of friends, your eyes widened, hoping that didn't mean what you thought it did. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. It's not what you think...yet."
Then, he left and you scooted around the pole so you could be closer to your brother. "I'm a monster," you whispered.
"What?" Jay turned his head to look at you, trying to maneuver his shoulders under the pipe to loosen it once more.
"He said you or me, that I had to choose and I told him to take you. I'm sorry. I should've just let him--"
"No, what you did was the right thing. I'll be fine. I was worried about you the whole time you were in there." Only then did he get a good look at you and saw that you were only in your bra and underwear. "Oh, God. He didn't-- I can't forgive myself if he--"
"Jay, he didn't do that." You shivered, despite being covered in a layer of nervous sweat.
And, Jay being a detective and all, didn't miss that. "Can you move any closer to me?"
You tugged on the rope, using whatever slack it had left in it to slowly drag yourself closer to Jay. Somehow, you got yourself close enough to Jay that you were leaning against him. You felt the warmth of his chest and remembered when Jay had told the doctor one time that his temperature always ran a little high, that that was normal for him. And God, right now you were really thankfully for those extra point three degrees he had on you.
"You're warm," you mumbled.
"You're getting blood in your hair."
"But it's warm." You closed your eyes.
"No, no, no, no, no." Jay moved his shoulder, making your head move up and down.
"Stop it. Trying to take a nap before he comes back."
"No, no we are not doing that. You do not close your eyes on me, Y/N Halstead. Do you understand me?"
You blinked and opened your eyes. "Fine. But everything hurts."
"I know. I know it does, kid. But we're gonna get out of here, okay?" Jay craned his neck to look above him. Then, he looked you up and down. "Think you could fit through that air vent?"
***
"You've reached Jay. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. At the tone please record your message, when you have finished recording--"
"Dammit, Halstead. It's been two hours!" Severide grumbled to himself as he sat on the couch in your house. Then, he scrolled through the phone to find your contact.
He waited for a few rings. "Hey, it's Y/N. I can't come to the phone right now. But pro tip, send me a text and maybe I'll answer that. Bye! At the tone please record your--"
He slammed his finger down on the end call button and went to call the third Halstead in a row, Will.
"Kelly?" Will asked as he answered his phone in the doctor's lounge. "Not to sound rude or anything, but why are you calling me?"
"Have you seen Jay or Y/N?"
"Can't say I have, why?"
"They went out to grab lunch and said they'd drop some off to you and it's been two hours. I don't know, maybe something happened to them."
"Yeah, I'll call Voight. Maybe Jay got called in and Y/N's just at the district. I'll let you know what I find out."
"Thanks, man."
Will ended the call and scrolled through his contacts until he found Hank Voight's phone number.
"Voight," the gravely-voiced sergeant answered.
"Hank, it's Will Halstead. Any chance you've seen my brother or sister lately?"
"No. I gave Halstead the day off and I haven't seen Y/N. Why? Is everything alright?"
"It's just that Kelly Severide just called me and he said that Jay and Y/N were out grabbing food and it's been two hours and neither of them is answering their phones."
"Okay, I'll look into it and get back to you. Don't worry about it. They probably just have no service because of a downed line."
"Yeah," Will agreed, trying to be optimistic. "Thanks."
"No problem, doc."
Voight ended the call and walked out of his office and into the bullpen. It was a slow day in Intelligence and hell, Ruzek hadn't even shown up yet.
"Is Ruzek gonna show up or is he playing hookey today?" Voight asked, annoyed.
"I think he's just hungover," Kevin answered. "If we got a case though, I'll pick him up on the way there and wake his ass up."
"Hank." Voight turned to look at the stairs, seeing none other than Trudy Platt. "You all need to listen to this."
She pressed play on an iPad and your voice came through the speaker. "Detective Jay Halstead, intelligence. Ping this phone."
"That's Y/N's voice," Kevin said.
"Trudy, when was this call placed?" Voight asked.
"About an hour and a half ago."
"Okay. Atwater, go pick up Ruzek. Burgess, ping Y/N's phone. Upton, me and you are gonna go suit up and then go find Jay and Y/N's last known."
"Copy that," Hailey answered.
***
"No sign of them, Sarge," Hailey said as she walked around Jay's truck, which showed clear signs of forced entry.
"This is 5021 squad," Voight spoke into his radio, "I need you to roll the crime lab on our current location and notify all units, an officer and a civilian have been abducted."
"Should we call Will?" Hailey asked.
"No. Not until we get more information. We don't need him to know that both of his siblings have been kidnapped. Because, if he's anything like Jay, which there's a 99% chance he is, he'll do something reckless. And we can't have that, not with this case."
"Kim, do you have any pod footage from our location?" Hailey asked.
"I do, but it's not facing that way. Wait, I got something. It looks like there was a squad car...and Jay's truck is out of frame. Dammit!"
"Kim track that patrol car number, see if it was reported missing or stolen."
"Copy."
There was typing on Kim's end before she came back on the radio. "Patrol car was reported stolen from the police garage this morning. According to the GPS, it says it's at the bottom of the Chicago River."
"So, whoever did this ripped the GPS out. Great."
"Hank," Trudy's voice came over the radio.
"What do you have for me, Trudy?"
"You need to get back to the district. There's a package for you and it's got a DVD and a flip phone in it. Some kid dropped it off, said it was important that this be viewed by you and Intelligence."
***
"Anybody else getting deja vu from this? Or is it just me?" Adam asked as he popped the DVD into the computer as everyone else crowded around to get a view of the screen.
"If this is what I think it is, then it is not good," Voight agreed.
"Someone care to enlighten me?" Hailey asked.
"About four years ago, there was this dealer, Derek Keyes. We had a buy going down in Midway and he killed his own brother and took Jay. Sent us a DVD and a flip phone," Adam answered.
"We watched Jay get tortured like an animal," Kevin said.
"And then Keyes called," Adam continued. "He said he wanted all our CI files and to send a lone female officer. We made fake files and sent Erin Lindsay, but they didn't have him. So, Erin had to go back with them, and somehow, I have no idea how those two did it, but they fought off Keyes and his associates and got out of there alive."
"Let's get this over with," Voight said.
They all held their breath as the video booted up. When Adam did press play, they were met with you hanging from the ceiling and being tased. They could hear Jay's screams in the background telling them to let you go.
"J-Jay. Take Jay," you panted and were taken down and dragged out.
Then, the video switched to Jay being tased. Hailey thought she was going to be sick. They had her partner, the man she had finally shared her feelings with and she'd be damned if they took him away from her.
The phone rang and Voight flipped it open and put it on speaker. "Hello?"
"Sergeant Voight, so we meet again," Derek Keyes' voice came through the phone. "I wish it were under better circumstances."
"What do you want, Keyes? We both know how this goes."
"I know what you want," Keyes started, smirking on the other end of the call. "You want your detective and his precious little sister who just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I've gotta say, Jay is quite the martyr this time around. Not like his sister gave him much of a choice, but he did it willingly. Didn't even fight back when he got back in there, all he said was not to hurt her more than I already have."
"She's just a kid, Keyes!" Adam yelled. "Let her go!"
Adam was like another older brother to you, but he was the fun brother. He always said that if you went to a party and needed a place to crash after without telling your brothers, he was your guy. He was also the one who, whenever you had to be stuck at the district for whatever reason, would sneak you a few dollars if you didn't have cash on you and you'd get Oreos from the vending machine.
"Oh, but that wouldn't be much fun for me now, would it?" Keyes chuckled.
"What do want?" Voight sneered.
"All of the drugs from the evidence locker. Meet me tonight at ten pm and you'll get your precious detective and his kid sister back. Send a lone, female officer. I'll send you the address."
Then, the line went dead.
"Okay, so we just go and check out all the drugs from evidence and throw them in a bag and do the meet. Simple," Adam stated.
"Are you out of your mind?" Voight asked, stepping closer to Adam. "Most of those drugs are laced, and there no way I am sending that much out onto the streets!"
"It's not just Jay this time! They have Y/N!"
"He's right, Sarge," Kevin backed up his best friend. "If it were just Jay, we might be able to get out of it without getting the drugs to Keyes. But, Y/N's got no way to defend herself in there, not with guys two times her size. You saw how she looked in that video and how she cried out for Jay. He'll do anything for her, Sarge. That's usually a good thing, but it might not be in this case."
They all knew what Kevin was getting at: If it was a choice between you or Jay dying, Jay would take the bullet in a heartbeat.
"Alright," Voight nodded. "I'll go sign out the drugs. Kim, get a wire on Hailey. Atwater and Ruzek, scope out the place and find the best spot to watch the drop."
***
"Jay, I swear to God if you break your damn shoulder--"
"I will not break my shoulder, Y/N." Jay gritted his teeth as he shoved his shoulder into the pipe.
"All I'm saying is that Will is gonna have to poke you with a needle if that happens."
"Listen, we're gonna get poked and prodded anyway." There was a soft clang as one end of the pipe came loose and popped off its bearings.
Jay quickly got his hands out of the rope and moved over to untie you.
"Oh, Thank God." Jay pulled the rope off your wrists, to see blood trickling down them.
"What the hell did you do?" Jay asked. His wrists weren't bloody, just raw, so he didn't know how yours had gotten that bad without you saying something.
"When they were hurting you, I just kept tugging on them. But it didn't work. They just got tighter."
"Yeah, because with the type of knot they tied you up with, the more you tug, the tighter it gets. Can you feel your leg yet?"
"How did you know it was numb?"
"I'm a detective. I notice things and you kept pinching your leg."
"It's better, I guess."
"Try and stand up, walk a few steps, and then we are getting out of here."
"How? You're gonna boost me up to that air vent where we have no idea where it ends and then I'm gonna go outside, pray that it's not snowing, and try and fight this guy off. Not to mention, I am literally just in my bra and underwear!"
"Listen, you probably won't have to go very far before someone who's concerned comes up to you and you ask to use their phone and you call Will, who will call Voight. If Will doesn't pick up, call 911. And, it's Chicago. People have seen weirder things than this."
You started walking around, making sure you could feel your leg. And you could feel it alright. You could feel it aching from your knee up to your hip, but you had to get out of here. You didn't know how much more of that you could take. And, you felt nauseous...but you couldn't tell Jay that or else he'd make you sit down and your escape plan would be dead in the water.
"Ready?" Jay asked.
"As I'll ever be," you answered, walking closer to him.
"You'll be okay, kid. We're gonna be okay."
You nodded, holding back tears, and then took a deep breath. Jay grunted in pain as he took your foot in his hand and boosted you up so that you could reach the open vent. Once you got your hands tightly wrapped around the entrance, Jay pushed so that your body was completely inside. You couldn't imagine the amount of pain he was in as he was having to irritate all of the wounds on his stomach and shoulders to get you up there.
You began your crawl through the dark and hoped that you didn't see a snake or a different type of reptile or rodent. Because, if you did and Keyes didn't kill Jay, you sure as hell would.
You crawled through the dark for what to you felt like hours, but in reality, it had only been three minutes, until you saw a speck of light ahead of you. You went as fast as your injured body would allow you to go, knowing that the outside world and freedom were getting closer and closer with every struggling step.
"Fuck," you muttered. You could see outside through the vent, but there was just one problem. You'd have to kick out the metal filter in order to jump outside.
You stifled a scream as you pulled your legs back, crunching them up to your chest which rubbed against the wounds on your stomach and kicked forward. You heard a creaking noise, taking that as a good sign, you kicked the filter seven more times with all the strength you had left and heard it hit the soft snow below.
You poked your head out, for once thankful that you were being held in a basement so that you were at ground level and wouldn't have to jump from four stories high.
But it was cold, oh so cold, and your lack of clothing didn't help matters.
Then, you heard Jay scream.
Hearing that kicked your adrenaline into high gear and you slipped out of the air vent and onto the ground, your feet making footprints in the snow. But, it was as if you couldn't even feel your feet on the verge of being frostbitten as you ran across the yard, further and further away from that place, closer and closer to safety.
But then, you came to a fence, which made your heart stop. You couldn't remember the last time you had climbed a fence! Yes, it paid to be small so you could fit in an air vent, but it did not help you the slightest bit when trying to jump a fence.
You gripped the metal and slid your foot into one of the rectangles, hauling yourself up as fast as you could.
But, you weren't fast enough.
You were ripped off the fence so fast that it made your head spin, the dizziness causing bile to rise in your throat.
"Let me go!" you yelled, kicking and screaming, hoping that your foot would make contact with any part of Derek Keyes' body that would cause him pain.
"Oh, where's the fun in that?"
"Please--" You couldn't finish your sentence before Keyes had slapped you across the face and then pressed a piece of duck tape on your mouth, effectively shutting you up.
"Much better. Now I can enjoy my peace and quiet."
You huffed and tried to scream through the duck tape, but it was no use. You tried to lick the duck tape like Jay had taught you, but you had been without water for so long that the tape wouldn't lose its stickiness no matter how hard or long you tried. Salty tears rolled down your face, wasting whatever water your probably dehydrated body had left.
You were once again dragged into the basement, meeting Jay, who was on the floor writhing in pain from the taser hit he had just received, chains on his wrists and ankles.
"Look who finally decided to turn back up, detective," Derek said, as he chained you to the pole. You knew that you'd probably need a tetanus shot from the rust getting into your cut-up wrists...if you ever go out of here that is.
"Op! Op!" you tried to yell stop through your duck tape, but that was the best you could do.
"Let her go, Keyes," Jay panted. "You want me, you have me. Now," he paused to take in some much-needed air, "just let her go."
"That was going to be the plan before I caught her trying to escape. I was going to take her and exchange her for the drugs and then maybe your people would find you in time. But, seeing as she is the escapee and you're just the accomplice, I think that she should get a longer prison sentence. That's how it works, isn't it detective?"
You whimpered, but Jay said nothing. A kick to his side made him remember who was in charge. "Yeah, yeah, that's how-- that's how it works."
"Precisely my point." He nodded at one of his associates who pulled out a syringe. Instinctively, Jay flinched. "Aw, is the big, bad detective afraid of a little needle?" Then, he plunged the needle into Jay's shoulder once more.
Jay tried to stay awake by focusing on you, silently telling you that it would be okay, but soon his eyes closed, the drugs taking over his system.
"Get him in the van, go do the deal," he told the guy who had just put sedatives in your brother's system. "As for you, sweetheart, it's time for another game."
***
"Hailey, van pulling up on your six," Ruzek said into his radio.
"Copy," Hailey answered. Seeing as she was unarmed, this needed to go smoothly. Not just for her, but for you and Jay.
As the van pulled up, Hailey's heart beat faster and faster. One slip up and she, Jay, and you would all easily be dead.
"Lone female officer," Keyes' associate said as he pulled up to Hailey. "Voight knows how to listen. You got what we asked for?"
"Sure do," Hailey answered, popping the trunk and pulling out the bag full of drugs. "All the drugs from 21st's evidence locker." She unzipped the bag, showing it to the men. "Now, give me my people, and then you can have 'em."
"That's not how this works. The drugs and then you get them back."
Hailey hesitated, but then she heard Voight's voice in her earpiece. "Do it, Upton. We have them surrounded."
She handed over the bag and he inspected it. "Get him out!" he yelled to the person in the back with Jay.
The door was opened and Jay was shoved out of the van, smashing his face into the gravel as the van sped off.
"Take 'em," Voight said.
"Sarge, Y/N's not here!" Hailey yelled. "It's only Jay and I need an ambo here! Now!"
"They- They got her, Hailey. Escape-- caught-- still there," Jay gasped as Hailey helped him sit up and wiped some blood from his face.
"Jay says Y/N's still there!" Hailey said and then the ambulance came up next to them.
Hailey undid the knots that were holding Jay's wrists and ankles together. They had switched out the chains for rope as soon as they were far away enough from Keyes' place that they knew that Jay wouldn't escape.
"Hailey, I counted- I counted the turns. They didn't give me enough and I woke- I woke up as soon as the van started."
"Sarge, I need you here, now! I think we got something, but I'm gonna need some help."
"Copy," Voight answered.
"Can you stand up, sir?" the paramedic asked Jay.
"Yeah, yeah I can do that." Hailey took his hand and helped him stand up and sit in the back of the ambulance.
"Jesus, man," Adam said as he saw Jay's current state. "You look like hell."
"Not the time," Voight admonished. "Hailey, what do you got?"
"Jay said he counted the turns. So if we can somehow get him in the car, I think he might be able to tell us where to go by backtracking."
"Halstead, you good to go?"
"Yeah," Jay answered, slowly standing up.
"Sergeant," the paramedic turned to Voight, "we really need to get him to Chicago Med."
"Listen to me, his sister is missing and probably being tortured right now. He is the only person who knows where to go because those other two sons of bitches who brought him here ain't talking. So, if you take him to the hospital and his sister dies, her death is on you. But if it makes you feel any better, one of you can ride with us," Voight sneered.
The paramedic reached behind her, pulling out a medical bag. "Take this. Use the hydrogen peroxide to clean the cuts. Use the bandages and gauze to cover them up, but remember to clean all of them." She looked at his stomach. "This one needs stitches, so I'm gonna need to keep him here--"
"No! We can just pack it, can't we?" Hailey asked.
"I mean, you could. It'd only work for a max of two hours."
"Well, we better work fast then," Voight said. "Hailey, help him to the car."
***
Keyes roughly grabbed your face in his hand. You were once again chained up and hanging from the ceiling by your wrists. The minute you stopped swinging, you did what you should've done hours ago. Jay wasn't here to save you and this wasn't going to get any easier. You were saving yourself in this one.
You spat in his face, resulting in you getting a slap across your face and then getting tased in the shoulder.
"I'm getting bored of this," Keyes said, faking a yawn.
He turned around and you used that moment to gather up all your strength and swing backward, using the momentum to carry you forward and kicking your legs out, successfully hitting him in the back, making him fall to the ground with a thud. You wiggled in the chains, ignoring the pain in your bloody wrists screaming out for you to stop. But, who were you kidding? They weren't going to budge.
"Tough girl, huh?" Keyes snarled as he stood up, pulling an orange lighter from his pocket. He flicked it open, flames slithering out. "Good thing I like tough girls. And, I also have another game."
You spit at him again, but he was too far away for it to reach him. "Go to hell!"
"I was going to tell you the rules, but since you wanna be so feisty, you can figure it out as we go."
He moved closer to you and reached up to your arms. You screamed out as the flames licked up your left arm, testing your restraints once more and trying with all your might to swing to the right, away from Keyes and his lighter. As you screamed, Keyes counted.
Then, he went to the other arm and did the same thing, counting to the same number and pulling the lighter away. But, since you kept screaming, he kept counting.
He then moved the lighter around your stomach for six seconds, and you screamed for another two. "You know what this means? Eight seconds the next place I light up. If you shut your goddamn mouth, I wouldn't have to do this."
"Fuck you!" You felt a wave of nausea again and this time, you knew you weren't going to be able to keep it down. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna--" And then you puked right down yourself. If you didn't already feel humiliated and at the mercy of Keyes, you sure did now. Chained up, covered in your own vomit, and just waiting to be burned once more.
This was how you were going to die. At this point, you just needed to accept it. Maybe if you shut up, you'd be able to die in a little less pain than you were currently in.
Keyes laughed at how helpless you were and moved his lighter to your collarbone. "No, no, please! Please just kill me! Please!" you pleaded.
"Where's the fun in that?"
Then, he held the lighter to your collarbone. You screamed and tried to get away from the lighter, but you were losing energy and through the pain, you remembered what Keyes said: If you shut your goddamn mouth, I wouldn't have to do this. So, you screamed for two seconds and bit your tongue as hard as you could to keep from yelling out once again, making more seconds get added to your burns.
"You're learning. That's good," Keyes said as he played with the lighter, making the flames go in between his fingers.
"I'll be quiet I promise!"
"Two more seconds." He moved the lighter to your thigh and was about to flick it to make fire spit out when he was loudly interrupted.
"Derek! We gotta go! They found us!"
Keyes threw the open lighter to the ground. "Looks like you'll actually get your death wish."
Then, he bolted out the door as you watched the flames moving across the concrete, quickly starting to burn the pile of rope that sat next to the wall, only making the fire accelerate.
***
"Turn left!" Jay yelled to Voight.
"Is that smoke?" Hailey asked.
Jay saw the black smoke. "That means a house is burning! Call CFD!" he yelled, his Rangers training and all the things he saw in Afghanistan paying off once again.
"This is 5021 Squad, requesting CFD-- Jay, is this close to where you were?"
Jay's face paled, realizing what Voight was insinuating. "Oh my God."
"This is 5021 Squad," Voight started again, "Requesting CFD and Rescue Squad. We have a house fire and possible victim inside in an unknown condition. Offenders assumed to be fleeing, patrol be advised."
***
Your eyelids felt heavy as you felt the flames licking the wall next to you, dangerously close.
Please let me pass out from smoke inhalation. Please let me pass out from smoke inhalation, you thought to yourself. After all, if you were going to end up being burned alive, you'd prefer to be unconscious when it occurred; it'd hurt less.
You thought that you might actually get your way for once today, two days? You didn't know how long you had been here. Your eyelids fluttered closed and you thought you were alive, but then you heard someone calling out to you.
Severide?
The first person you thought you'd hear from or see when you got to heaven, you assumed was going to be your mom, but apparently, that had changed.
"Want Mom," you mumbled, hoping she'd appear out of thin air. Because, you were in heaven and that's what angels do, right?
"Fire Department, call out!"
Why was Severide dead and why was he saying to call out? You were dead so why did you need saving?
"Fire Department, call out!" another voice yelled.
Wait, was that Cruz?
Holy shit, you weren't dead...not yet at least.
"In here," you tried to be as loud as you could, using the last energy you had, but it was just your normal talking voice. So, with all the strength you had left, you tried to clang the chains connected to your wrists and the ceiling together, hoping they'd make enough sound so that they could find you.
"Cruz, get the bolt cutters and cut these chains off her!" you heard Kelly yell. "I'll catch her and then we'll get outta here!"
The smoke hurt your eyes and you were so, so tired.
You felt yourself falling and your eyes shot open in fear. You tried to move out of the hold, but everything hurt...especially the newly added burns from Keyes which were especially tender.
"Y/N, relax. It's just me, it's Kelly."
"Kelly," you muttered, closing your eyes and slipping into an unconscious state.
"I need a medic!" Kelly yelled as he carried you out of the burning house and towards the second ambulance.
Jay was sitting in the first one, getting the cut on his stomach looked at. "Y/N!"
He moved to try and stand to get over to you, but he was pushed back down. "You can see her at the hospital," the paramedic told him. "I can't have you ripping the cut more than it is."
"Jay, she's in good hands," Hailey said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Please, just tell me she's alive." He made eye contact with Kelly who looked at Sylvie. She nodded.
"She's alive, Jay."
***
"Dr. Marcel, trauma victim is two minutes out!" Maggie yelled to Crockett who was standing at a computer, finishing some charts.
"I'll help," Will volunteered.
"Good, know anything else about the victim?"
"Kidnapping victim." Maggie paused, listening to the radio. "Will, you can't treat this patient."
"What do you mean I can't treat this patient?" he asked, taking a step closer to Maggie.
"Will, it's Y/N."
"What?"
"I don't need a wheelchair, Hailey! I can walk!" Jay yelled as he entered the ED, to be met with a shock-faced Will.
"Give it to me," Marcel said as Sylvie rolled you in on the stretcher, still unconscious.
"Y/N Halstead, 20-year-old female, kidnapping victim. Diminished breath sounds, most likely from smoke inhalation. First-degree burns on her stomach, shoulder, and collarbone, needs stitches in her right wrist and a tetanus shot. No broken bones that we could find, but it wouldn't hurt to check. Bruising on a lot of her body, but it looks superficial. Go through concussion protocol as well. There's a big bump on her head," Sylvie answered.
"Thanks, Brett."
"Trauma three!"
Will just stood, staring at you being pushed into the trauma room. Then, he flicked his eyes up at Jay. You were here because of Jay.
"She's gonna be okay, right Will?" Jay asked, walking closer to his older brother.
Will said nothing.
"Will!" Jay yelled once more.
Will's eyes darkened and he looked down at Jay. "She's here because of you!" If Jay had a shirt on, Will would've grabbed him by his collar. "You could've gotten her out of there and you didn't!"
"I tried! We tried to escape and they caught her. They took me instead of her to go back--"
"They took you back instead of her? God, did you even try to fight back, or did you just let them take her back and torture her?"
"Are kidding me right now? You don't think I tried? Look at me! I fucking tried but they chained me to a fucking wall, Will! There wasn't much I could do from there!"
"Okay, okay," Hailey said, stepping between the two men and placing her hands on Jay's chest. "Let's go get you stitched up. And, you two better work this out before Y/N wakes up. Because she will wake up."
***
Will tapped the glass of the entrance to Jay's hospital room, seeing as it was midnight and Will was working a double shift, he had grabbed some coffee to keep him awake. And, knowing Jay, he knew that he wouldn't sleep at a time like this, so he grabbed him a coffee, too.
Hailey had gotten up to go to the bathroom before Will had gotten there, leaving Jay alone. Jay looked up to see who was knocking and nodded his head, allowing his older brother to enter.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," Will apologized, handing Jay his coffee. "I know you tried your hardest, it's just, I'm used to seeing you come here in an ambulance, but seeing Y/N? That hits different. It's like everything I learned in med school flew out the window the minute Brett brought her through the ED doors."
"If only we didn't try to escape, then she could've gone when Keyes' people went to do the deal and she wouldn't be in this mess," Jay sighed, taking a sip of his coffee, being careful not to move his left arm too much.
"How's the shoulder?" Will asked.
"I didn't break it. Just hurts a lot. They said if I would've hit it a few more times I would've broken it though."
Will nodded, wanting to ask Jay how the hell you got yourself into this mess. But, he didn't want Jay to shut him down.
"Out with it," Jay prompted. "I know that look. It's when you want to say something, but won't."
Will raked a hand through his hair, tugging on the roots. "How did she even get in this mess to begin with?"
"We were just going to get lunch, that's all we were doing." Jay's voice grew quieter, as he realized that this entire thing was wholly on him and no one else. "I got pulled over and it was- it was Keyes. Must've stolen a patrol car. I- I told her to get down and call 911, but they heard her on the phone. They heard her on the phone and grabbed her, Will. I tried to fight back, but then I was drugged and..." He stopped and looked down. Then, he set his coffee on the table and put his face in his hands as his body began to shake with sobs.
Will stood up and put his hand on Jay's good shoulder, rubbing back and forth. "When I woke up, I was tied to- to a pipe and I heard- I heard her screaming for me."
"Hey, hey, it's okay. She's safe now. She's safe."
And, then Will's pager went off, alerting him that he had an incoming victim of a car crash. "I gotta go, little brother, but Hailey's back." He gave Jay's shoulder one last squeeze and slipped out of the room.
"Jay, I know what you're doing," Hailey said, dragging a chair across the small room to be closer to him. "None of this is your fault."
"But it is, Hailey! If I didn't have the brilliant idea to try and get her to go through that air vent and escape, she wouldn't be here right now."
"You were doing what you thought would get her out of harm's way. You did what you were supposed to do. It just...didn't work out quite right this time."
"Obviously. God, if they would've just taken me instead..."
"Hey, hey. Jay, look at me," Hailey said sternly, grabbing his face in her hands when he looked up at her. "She is safe now and I know for a fact that when Y/N wakes up, she's gonna need you. She can't have you spiraling. She's gonna need all the help, support, and love she can get."
"But what if she hates me?" Jay whispered. "I'm the reason she's in all that pain."
"She could never hate you, not now, not ever. And, Keyes is the reason she's in all that pain. Not you, most definitely not you."
***
You woke up to the steady hum of machines and you felt something in your arm.
Keyes was going to drug you just like he did to Jay. And the machines were so that he could electrocute you.
"Please wake up," you heard Jay mutter.
If he was here, that means the deal didn't go down as planned and Jay probably had more injuries. You couldn't open your eyes, for fear of what condition your big brother would be in because of you. If only you had gotten over that fence...
They didn't know you were awake yet, so you fumbled with the needle in your arm, hoping to pull it out to stop any more drugs from invading your system.
You jumped back as you felt someone's hand on your arm, keeping the needle in and your eyes shot open, to be met with just Jay.
You moved away from him, knowing that if he was back, Keyes would follow.
"I need some help in here!" Jay yelled as you reached once more for the needle in your arm.
"Y/N, we need you to calm down!" Maggie told you as she ran in, grabbing your hand to pull it off the arm where the IV was. "You're in the hospital, at Chicago Med. Will's here, but he's with a patient."
That was when you finally took in your surroundings. The hum of the machines were the monitors, and whatever was going into your body were drugs, but they were to get you better.
Your heart rate steadily slowed, until it was back to its normal rhythm. "There you go," Maggie said as she handed you a cup of water which you gladly drank. "I'll get Will and Dr. Marcel."
"Thanks, Maggie," Jay said, finally sitting down again. You ran the fingers of your left hand over the stitches on your right wrist and started poking at them. "Uh, no," Jay told you as he saw what you were doing. You looked up at him. "I know it's your first time getting stitches, but I can promise you, as someone who has gotten over 100, they aren't as interesting as they seem."
Luckily, Jay was saved from telling you to stop messing with stuff when Will and Crockett entered.
"Y/N, you're okay, kid," Will said as he gave you a small hug, careful of your injuries. You just looked at him and nodded.
"Now, Miss Halstead," Marcel began, "how are you feeling?" You didn't say anything, just kept staring. "Does anything hurt?" Again, he received no response.
Will and Marcel shared a looked, they knew what this could be. And, that didn't go unnoticed by Jay. "What? What's going on?"
"She could have sustained other neurological injuries besides her concussion, as it seems like she can't hear us," Marcel answered.
"You're saying our sister's deaf?" Jay asked, horrified.
"That's not what I'm saying, but it is a possibility. I just need to do a quick neuro exam to be sure."
He reached into his pocket, causing you to flinch and move back on the bed, your heart rate rising as you remembered Keyes reaching into his pocket to grab the lighter. This did not go unnoticed by the three men in the room.
"Jay, hand me that whiteboard and marker behind you, would you?" Will asked.
Jay handed it to him. "What are you doing?"
"Writing down what Dr. Marcel's doing so that Y/N knows. Because, if she did lose her hearing, she has no idea what he's grabbing right now."
"Oh," was all Jay said. If his sister went deaf all because of him, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.
Marcel's grabbing a flashlight, you read. And then he's gonna shine it in your eyes and you have to follow it w/o moving your head.
You nodded, understanding what he was doing, even though you could hear the whole conversation.
You completed the exam and everything seemed neurologically intact. The two doctors shared a look. "Jay, come with us," Will said.
"I'll be right back," Jay told you. He thought about squeezing your hand but thought it might be too early for him to do that without warning. When you squeezed Marcel's hand during the neuro exam, that didn't freak you out because Will had written it on the whiteboard, telling you what was about to happen.
"What's going on? She did everything right in there," Jay asked once they were out of the room.
"Everything is neurologically intact," Marcel answered.
"But..."
"But, she's traumatized, to say the least."
"So you're telling me that our sister won't talk because she's been through trauma?" Jay asked, quieter this time.
"Short answer, yes."
"Why?"
"There's a multitude of reasons. She might not feel safe and comfortable yet. Your captor might have told her if she talked, that he'd hurt her."
"He never said that to her," Jay said. "Not when I was there anyway." Then, he turned to his brother. "She's gonna talk, right? She won't be like this forever?"
"It's all up to Y/N, now," Will answered. "She'll talk when she feels like talking."
"Care to give me a timeline on that?"
"Could be hours, days, months. I've heard stories in my psych rotation of it taking years."
"So what do we do?"
"You just be there for her," Marcel answered Jay's question. "Both of you."
***
2 days since kidnapping
You were finally headed home after being stuck in the hospital, not that it really mattered to you anyway. The only difference was that you would get to sleep in your own bed and look at the pile of homework on your desk that should be getting done, but not doing it.
Jay unlocked the front door and you walked inside, glad to be home. "I'm gonna make us some breakfast. Anything specific you want?" Jay asked. You just shrugged. "Okay, breakfast burritos it is then."
You headed into the bathroom to shower while Jay was making breakfast. You hadn't looked at yourself in the mirror since you had been kidnapped, and quite frankly, you had no desire to. You had seen the number Keyes had done on your stomach, arms, and thighs, and you didn't want to see what he did to your face. If it looked as bad as it felt though, it'd give a toddler nightmares.
You stood in the shower, using mostly cold water, so your burns didn't hurt too badly. You used a washcloth in place of a loofa to avoid opening any stitches, cuts, or burns. And, you had switched out your face wash with Jay's since his didn't have scrubbing beads in it, so they didn't irritate the bruises on your face.
You showered and changed into your comfiest pajamas (careful to have your back to the mirror while changing so you didn't so much as peek at yourself), and wrapped yourself in your favorite blanket. You grabbed gauze, bandages, and the cream you were supposed to put on your burns to have Jay help you re-wrap your burn on your left arm. Then, you walked back into the kitchen, to see Jay wrapping up your burrito.
"Not only are we eating burritos, but you're one, too," Jay joked, referring to you being wrapped in a blanket, as he set the plate of food down in front of you.
You shrugged and nodded. You set the supplies on the table and then held your arm out to him. He moved a chair closer to you and spread the cream on the burn, put the bandages on top, and then wrapped it in the gauze. "Not too tight, is it?"
You shook your head no and then started to nibble on your burrito.
By the time you were only halfway done, Jay had eaten two burritos and put his plate in the dishwasher. "You're not getting up from the table until you finish that," Jay stated, turning to you.
You scowled at him, but he just smiled back. "I'll even watch Survivor with you while you eat. And we can watch as many episodes as you want...but if you don't finish that, we're only watching one episode. Sound good?"
You looked at him and nodded, and he went off to his bedroom to grab his laptop.
The episode started to play and you knew which one it was immediately: the three amigos episode where your favorite castaway was at the bottom with his two alliance members and they all played immunity idols to avoid going home that night. You looked at Jay and nodded, telling him that he made a good choice.
You slowly but surely finished your burrito, not before heating it back up in the microwave during the ad breaks, just before the end of the episode. "You know what episode comes next, right?" Jay asked as if you had no idea. "The one where Malcolm gets voted off."
That was your favorite player in Survivor that season, but seeing as you had seen that episode before, you knew it was coming. So, you just shrugged and moved to the couch to continue your binge-watching.
***
Jay slowly closed his laptop, trying to make as little noise as possible so he didn't wake you. The two of you had broken for meals and to go to the bathroom, but other than that, you had watched Survivor all day. Typically, Jay hated sitting around all day and doing nothing, since that meant he was being unproductive, something he had learned from his years in the military. But, seeing how distracted you looked when watching the show even though you knew what was going to happen, he knew he couldn't just leave you after everything that had happened.
You had fallen asleep halfway through the episode, so Jay finished it by himself, but was sure to jot down the time in case you wanted to finish watching it tomorrow. He turned on the lamp on the small table next to you and put a glass of water next to you in case you woke up in the middle of the night.
Typically, he'd sleep with a fan on, something that you now did as well, but tonight, tonight that was not going to happen. He knew he had to have as little background noise as possible in case you woke up screaming or gasping in the middle of the night.
***
You were chained to the ceiling once again. And, just like last time, your feet didn't touch the ground so you just hung there, practically limp. But, unlike last time, Derek Keyes was nowhere in sight.
You strained your ears to try and hear anything that would alert you that he was coming but you heard nothing, absolutely nothing except the clink of the chains when you moved.
That was until you heard yelling, Jay yelling to be precise.
"I said you for the drugs and this," There was a pause, you assumed so that Keyes could show whatever the hell it was to your brother. "this is not drugs!"
You heard Jay yell and then you heard a sound, like someone dragging a sack of potatoes across the floor. And, it was getting louder.
The door opened, revealing Keyes dragging Jay inside the room, followed closely by an associate of his. You tried to swing back.
"Get her down," Keyes commanded. "And then tie her up with that rope over there. Make sure her hands are tied in front of her though and leave a line of rope dragging on the floor."
"Don't touch her!" Jay spat with all the energy he had left.
Keyes punched Jay in the face. "Shut the fuck up!"
Jay spat out blood and made eye contact with you. I'm sorry he mouthed. You sucked in a breath, knowing that this would not be good for either of you if Jay was apologizing before anything even happened.
You were roughly taken down from the chains and tied up in the corner now. You could probably try and walk around, try and make a run for it even, but your hands were tied in front of you and that door would be too heavy for you to push open without them tied up. You needed a code, too. So, there was no escaping.
"Now, you're taking her place and you just get to watch," Keyes said as he chained Jay up to the ceiling.
"Do whatever you want to me! Just leave her alone!"
Keyes punched Jay in the stomach. "What did I say? Shut up!"
Keyes then walked over to you, pulling a lighter from his pocket. You tugged on the rope as hard as you could, moving your entire upper body to try and get loose, but it was no use.
"Now, I'm going to light the end of this and it's going to slowly travel up the rope and to your hands. Maybe I'll put the fire out when it just gets your hands, maybe I'll let you die a slow and painful death by fire. You'll just have to wait and see."
"Keyes you can do whatever you want with me! Just don't touch her!" Jay yelled, pulling on the chains and trying to move closer to you.
Keyes flicked open the lighter.
"Please no," you whimpered. He crouched down at the end of the rope, the flame dancing dangerously close to it.
Then, you heard a crash. Did Jay somehow pull off the unthinkable and break out of his chains?
"Y/N, Y/N wake up."
Wake up? What did that mean? You were awake. If you weren't you wouldn't feel the rope digging into your wrists--
You jolted awake as you felt someone gently touch your shoulder.
"Y/N, it's Jay. You're at home on the couch. You're safe." At this, you went to sit up but were stopped when you felt a wetness on your right wrist as if it had been sitting in water.
You turned and looked at your hand. It was covered in blood. Then, you looked at the floor and saw the broken water glass that Jay must've left out for you.
"I'm gonna throw a few towels on the floor and then we're gonna get you cleaned up, okay? Looks to me like you threw out a few stitches."
He left to go grab a few towels and then came back--this time with shoes on--and laid them on the floor. "Do you mind if I quick pick you up just to get you into the hallway? Wouldn't want you to get glass in your foot and have to get more stitches." You hesitated, but nodded, allowing Jay to carry you to the hallway, your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, where he then set you back down and you followed him to the bathroom.
Jay flicked on the light and pulled out the first kit, while you pushed yourself up onto the counter using your good wrist.
"I need you to rinse it out," Jay said as he reached over and turned on the faucet. "That way, if it's really bad, I can tell and call Will to come over here. But, maybe we'll get lucky and we can just wrap it up for right now and get it restitched in the morning."
You placed your wrist under the running water, thankful that Jay had tested the temperature to make sure that it was not too hot and not too cold. After a few seconds, you took it back out and allowed Jay to gently pat it dry with a towel. Then, he looked at it and came up with his verdict.
"I think I know what happened," Jay started.
You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't even know how this happened, so how did he know?
"I think you kept rubbing your wrist back and forth on that jagged edge of the table because there's a splinter in here." You jerked your arm away from him, hiding your hand back under the safety of your blanket. Ain't no way in hell he was digging into your open wound with a pair of tweezers, no way in hell.
"Relax, I'm not gonna take it out. I'm gonna call Will and he's gonna take it out and stitch you back up." You shook your head, no. No way were you even allowing your doctor brother to take a pair of tweezers into your open skin. "He'll numb it and everything, don't worry," Jay reassured you, pulling out his phone.
"Will! It's not Lanik calling to cover your shift, it's me." you listened to Jay's side of the conversation. "Y/N threw out some stitches and now there's a splinter in there, so I need you to come over and fix it." There was a pause. "Believe me, if I thought it could wait a few more hours, you wouldn't be getting this call." Another pause. "Yeah, you can just stay over here. No, just a blanket." Another pause, this time longer. "Yeah, I'll try and do that. See you soon."
He set his phone on the counter and turned back to you. "Okay, so here's the deal and I know you're not gonna like it." You raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. "Will said that that needs to be wrapped in a clean towel." You pulled your wrist tighter against the fabric of your blanket. "And that is not going to cut it."
You shook your head, no. Your blanket was warm and it made you feel safe and secure when it was wrapped tightly around you. "Y/N, it's got blood on it." He paused, trying to figure out how he could do this. "Tell you what, if you let me wrap your wrist in a clean towel, I'll let you use my weighted blanket while yours is in the wash. Deal?"
Jay offering you his weighted blanket? What kind of fever dream was this?
Will had gotten that blanket for Jay when he got home from Afghanistan for the second time to help ease his nightmares. He kept it in his closet most nights now, but you did see him using it after some particularly rough cases. One of those times being when he had been kidnapped by Keyes the first time.
You nodded, telling him that you had a deal, and out your arm. He pulled a clean hand towel out of the closet and the medical tape from the first aid kit. Then, he wrapped up your wrist, not without you wincing, and taped it.
"Now, do you want to go to your room or the living room to wait for Will?" You pointed to yourself. "Your room it is then. Can I take that blanket? I promise I'll be back with the weighted one in three minutes tops," he promised.
Reluctantly you handed over the blanket, which blood had soaked through in a small spot, and then made your way into your room.
True to his word, Jay came back in holding his gray weighted blanket. He placed it over your shoulders, seeing as you were currently staring off into space, your mind wandering back to the nightmare that caused all of this.
What if Intelligence hadn't gotten Keyes the drugs? Was that what would've happened?
"Y/N," you were pulled out of your thoughts by Jay softly saying your name. You looked up at him. "Whatever you dreamt out there--because I know you were dreaming since I had to wake you up--it isn't real. Keyes is locked up and he won't ever be getting out." He didn't know that for sure, he just knew they had him and his associates in county at the moment, awaiting sentencing. But, he'd say anything to ease your fears.
You nodded half-heartedly at him and he looked at your desk, textbooks still open to where that had been before the kidnapping. "If you want to take a semester off, that's fine. If you want to go back or see if you can finish the semester online, that's fine, too."
You shrugged. In all honesty, you had no idea what you wanted to do. You knew you wanted to finish the semester because you didn't want all of your tuition money to go to waste, you just didn't know how you'd do it, if you even could do it.
"You don't have to make a decision now or even in a week, just keep it in mind." Jay grabbed your laptop off your desk and set it on your bed. "Mind if I sit next to you?"
You moved over, allowing him to sit on your bed and he opened the laptop and passed it to you, silently telling you to put in your password. You did so and handed it back to him. "Figured we could finish the episode you fell asleep watching."
Just as the episode had finished loading, you heard a door open and you pushed yourself back further into the bed. You could jump off and hide in the closet if you needed to. You didn't think you could fit under your bed anymore, but it was worth a try if--
"Jay! It's Will! Where are you two?"
You visibly relaxed as you heard his voice. Jay placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Breathe, it's just Will. It's just Will." He gave you a second to take a deep breath and exhale. "Good. Now, I'm gonna go get him and you're gonna go in the bathroom. We'll meet you there. Is that okay with you?" You nodded. "Good."
You made your way into the bathroom and sat on the counter again, your--well actually Jay's--blanket, still wrapped around you.
"Hey," Jay greeted Will as he stood in the living room, holding his medical bag, a backpack which Jay assumed held clothes since he was going to just spend the rest of the night here, a small whiteboard, and a pack of dry-erase markers. "What are the whiteboard and markers for?" Jay asked, taking Will's medical bag from him.
"Figured if Y/N was up to it, she could write on the board so we know what she's saying."
"Good idea."
"That's why I'm the doctor and you're the cop."
"Shut up. Y/N's in the bathroom waiting for you."
Will and Jay entered the bathroom to be met with you sitting on the floor sobbing. "Whoa, whoa," Jay exclaimed, crouching down next to you. "What happened?"
You shook your head, not wanting to tell your brothers. "It's okay," Will started, crouching down on the other side of you. He handed you the whiteboard and a purple marker, your favorite color.
You stared at it, wondering if you could do it. So, you just scribbled NO.
"Wanna tell us why?" Jay prompted.
You'll laugh at me.
"No we won't. We promise," Will reassured you.
You squeezed your eyes closed, letting more tears fall before you finally decided to tell them. I looked in the mirror for the first time since
You didn't finish writing the sentence, only set the whiteboard down and waited for them to read it.
Neither of them knew how to respond, because how did they respond to their little sister seeing her face covered in faded bruises for the first time? Jay wanted to say that it would all be okay, that he knew how you were feeling because of the number of times he had looked in the mirror and saw bruises on his face and body, whether in the rangers or from being a cop, but he knew it was different. It was different because being a girl came with more insecurities, one of them being your skin. And, even though you didn't wear makeup, this was different than not wearing makeup. You chose to not wear makeup. You didn't choose to have this happen to you.
So, Jay just wrapped one arm around you protectively and Will squeezed your good hand, both reminding you that they were there, even though they had no idea what to say at the moment. And, that was all you needed: comfort from family while you cried out all that you had been holding in.
After staying in that position for about ten minutes, you were finally calm enough to push yourself up onto the counter and let Will do his job. He unzipped his medical bag and pulled out a syringe and a bottle, of what you assumed to be the liquid that would numb the affected area.
"Hey, turn away now because I'm getting the needle out," Will told you. He turned to Jay. "You might want to, too."
You weren't afraid of needles per say, you just didn't like to see how big they were before you got the injection. It always helped to look away when you were getting an injection and to not look at it while the nurse or doctor was prepping.
Surprisingly, Jay was fine. Usually, his hands get all clammy and his face gets a bit pale. You just chalked it up to him not being the one being stuck with the needle this time. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Y/N," Will started, "This is gonna hurt since it's going into an open wound."
"Man, why would you tell her that?" Jay exclaimed as he unwrapped the towel from your wrist.
"Thought she might need to be prepared. Now, I'm just gonna wipe it down with some disinfectant and then give you the local anesthetic, and then I can get the sutures in."
Jay held out his hand for you, silently telling you to squeeze it. Will wiped it down and that didn't feel so bad.
"Hey, hey, look at me," Jay coaxed as he watched Will pick up the syringe. "Squeeze my hand as hard as possible. You won't hurt me, I promise."
Then, you felt the pain of the needle in your skin as you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, and squeezed the ever-loving life out of Jay's hand. But, after five seconds, the needle was out and after a minute, you couldn't feel your wrist.
You let go of Jay's hand and Will pulled out a pair of tweezers to remove the splinter. After that, he disinfected the area once more and put in new stitches.
"Good as new," he told you.
Thanks, you wrote on the whiteboard.
"No problem, kid." You stifled a yawn. "Go get some sleep. We'll still be here in the morning. Promise."
You rewrapped the weighted blanket around yourself and looked at Jay, silently asking if you could keep it for the night. "I guess you can keep it just for tonight," he relented as your blanket had just finished in the washing machine and still needed to be dried. "Besides, if I need anything, I've got this knucklehead here to keep me company."
"Who you calling knucklehead, knucklehead?"
You rolled your eyes at their immaturity and walked to your room to go to sleep. But, instead of turning off the lights all the way like you normally did, you dimmed them. You knew you would be using that dimmer for awhile.
***
Will walked into your room the next morning--well, closer to afternoon actually--to see you still wrapped in Jay's weighted blanket, laying on top of your other bed sheets and comforter. The lights were still on and he was shocked that Jay didn't turn them off when he woke up this morning and it started to get light out.
"Y/N. Y/N, wake up." He gently touched your blanket-covered shoulder, making you flutter your eyes open ad look at him. "Morning, sleepyhead. Your head hurt? Any nausea?"
He waited for a beat to see if you would speak and when you didn't, he handed you the whiteboard and the marker.
No, why?
"Because it's 11 o'clock and you don't normally sleep this late and you have a concussion, so I'm worried about post-concussion symptoms."
I'm fine.
"Okay, well I'm gonna go make some food, give you some time to wake up."
You picked up your phone and saw a text from Jay telling you that your blanket should be dry and that he was at the district and would be home later.
You went into the kitchen and were about to go get your blanket from the dryer when you heard the flickering sound of a burner being turned on. Your eyes landed on the flame and you slowly walked backward, afraid that it would somehow burn you even though it was twenty feet away.
You winced as you backed into the table, hitting your low back. Immediately, Will turned off the burner and turned around. "Y/N? You okay?" You stood still and stared at the stove. "Hey, that noise was just the burner turning on. It wasn't anything else, I promise."
You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. Then, you dropped the blanket and made your way to the bathroom to go take a shower.
"If you're showering, be careful with your stitches!" Will yelled to you. "And, I'll help you re-wrap your burns after, too if you need."
You undressed and gently unwrapped the bandages from your burns.
Keyes did this to you.
Keyes' lighter did this to you.
Fire did this to you.
***
"Hey, man, good to have you back," Adam greeted Jay as he walked into the bullpen.
"Thanks," he replied, taking a seat on the edge of Hailey's desk.
"How are you doing?" Hailey asked. "You look tired."
"I mean, I've been better, obviously," Jay answered, rubbing a hand on his face. "Y/N popped some stitches last night when she had a nightmare, so we had to call Will and deal with that in the middle of the night."
"Halstead, here to make your statement?" Voight asked as he emerged from his office.
"Yeah, you wanna just do it out here? Because I know all of you want to know what happened and it'll save me a lot of talking if I only have to say it once."
"If that's what you wanna do, then we can do that."
Voight grabbed a notepad and a pen. "Start from the beginning."
"We were just going to grab lunch, that's all..."
Once he was done giving his statement, Jay was drained needless to say. He was in the locker room and God, all he could think of were your pleas for help when you were both held captive. He was sitting against the lockers, head in his hands, quiet sobs leaving his lips.
"Jay," Hailey alerted as she walked into the locker room. She slid down the lockers next to him. "Jay, hey, it's okay."
"It's not okay, Hailey!" He yelled. He took a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just, she hasn't said a goddamn word since she was rescued from that house."
Hailey wrapped her arm around Jay, allowing him to lay his head on her chest. "And you're keeping all your emotions in to stay strong for her so she doesn't break any more than she already is, aren't you?"
"How did you know that?" he whispered.
"Because I know you, Jay. You always look out for others but sometimes you forget to look out for yourself. Just remember that I'm here if you need me."
"Thank you."
Hailey ran a comforting hand through his hair. "What if she- what if she doesn't forgive me?"
"She knows it's not your fault. You did everything you could. Hell, you even tried to get her to escape all while knowing it would be worse for you when Keyes came back. You did a good thing, Jay."
"She looked at herself in the mirror for the first time last night," Jay stated.
"What?" Hailey asked, confused.
"She hadn't looked in the mirror since before all this went down. Me and Will walked into the bathroom and she was sobbing. I didn't even know what to say to that. What do I do if she doesn't talk again, Hailey? I didn't know what to say when she broke down last night. If I can't do that, how am I going to handle the rest of this?"
"You just have to remember one thing. Y/N's still in there. It might take a little digging, but underneath all the dirt that Keyes buried her in, she's still there, just underneath it. You and Will just need to dig her out, one shovel-full at a time. And, I'm sure all of us will help with some of that digging."
"Thank you," Jay choked out.
How did I get so lucky? he thought to himself.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, Hailey still running a hand through Jay's hair and giving him the comfort he so desperately needed.
"I better get going," Jay whispered.
"I understand."
Jay stood up first and held out his hand to help Hailey up. He splashed some water in his face and dried it, trying to get rid of the tear stains and Hailey took something out of her locker.
"What's this?" he asked, taking the book, Corrupt, and a bag of pumpkin spice coffee from her.
"I saw the book on Y/N's to-read list on Goodreads and figured she could use the distraction. And, I remember her complaining one day about running out of pumpkin spice coffee."
"Where'd you find it? She looked everywhere for it and she couldn't find it because it's out of season."
"Never underestimate the power of Amazon," Hailey smiled.
"You're the best, Hails, really."
"So I've been told."
Jay rolled his eyes at that comment and the two parted ways, but not before Jay gave her a quick kiss on the cheek when no one was watching.
***
"How's she doing?" Jay whispered to Will as he entered the house.
Will motioned for Jay to follow him since you were sitting on the couch watching tv.
"I turned on the stove and she freaked, man," Will told his brother as soon as they were in Jay's room safely out of earshot of you. "She just like backed into the table and then she went and took a shower and everything was normal after that."
"Still no talking?"
"Not a word."
"Damn."
"She'll come around. She's a Halstead, our stubborn asses don't go down without a fight."
"You're right about that."
"I'm always right, little brother. We just have to wait."
"I don't think I have to tell you that Halsteads don't have a patient bone in their bodies. And, you are not always right. If I recall correctly, you violated a DNR your first year at Med, which was wrong."
"Okay, so I've been wrong sometimes, but I'm right most of the time."
"Shut up. Now get out so I can change."
You were continuing your Survivor binge when you felt the couch dip next to you. You looked up to see Jay. I didn't even know you were home, you scribbled on your whiteboard.
"Just got home about ten minutes ago. I tried to be quiet in case you were sleeping. Hailey got these for you."
He handed you a book and a bag of coffee. How'd she know?
"Mentioned something about you complaining about being out of that coffee and she looked on that one website you use for your books."
Goodreads?
"Yeah, that."
You better keep her. I approve.
"Shut up," Jay joked. "And you better erase that before Will sees."
You erased it just before Will returned, this time carrying a bowl of popcorn. He sat down on the other side of you. "Now, what episode are we on?"
And, you picked up the remote started the next episode.
***
4 weeks since kidnapping
"Coffee, kid?" Jay asked as you sat at the table eating a bagel. You had been up for two hours already and it was only seven am. You nodded at him and he pulled out another mug from the cupboard. "How long have been up? You're looking a little tired."
2 hours you wrote on the whiteboard.
Even though it's been a month and the bruises had disappeared, the burns had turned into scars, and the stitches had been removed, one thing hadn't healed: your will to talk. Everyone around you had been waiting for you to utter a single word, but it hadn't come yet. They'd gotten used to you writing in dry erase marker to communicate.
You had resumed all of your classes online so that you didn't have to go to class. At first, some professors were skeptical that you'd be able to pass the class because of how much time you missed, but when you, Will, and Jay showed up to your university's administrators and your academic advisor to explain the situation accompanied by Voight, they relented. It helped to have the most infamous cop in Chicago on your side.
You put your head in your hands. "Hey, hey." Jay placed a hand on your shoulder and bent down so his eyes were level with yours. You lifed your head. "Everything's gonna be okay. We're gonna get through today and the next and the next. We've made it this far. We've got no choice but to continue," he told you, the last two quotes being something that Mouse had told him when they had both returned from Afghanistan as shells of the men they had previously been.
"And before you question me, I know this because you're coming to the district with me today. And, no, it's not up for discussion."
Okay, but I'm driving myself, you wrote, not in the mood to argue right now.
"Listen, as long as you go, I could care less how you get there."
***
"Morning mini Halstead," Adam said as you entered the district.
"Damn, Ruz. Not running late for once? I'm shocked," Jay joked.
"I'll have you know that I am very punctual."
"Wow, using big boy words," Jay quipped as he punched in the code and then placed his hand on the palm scanner.
"Morning, Jay," Hailey said, giving Jay a kiss once he was settled at his desk.
"Morning, Hails."
Adam made a gagging sound and you smacked him on the chest. Shut up, they're cute, you wrote on your whiteboard.
"Yeah, Adam! Shut up, we're cute!" Jay yelled.
Yes, now everyone knew that Hailey and Jay were a couple. Yes, they had filled out the proper HR forms. No, neither had been fired. Yes, they were still partners. And, no, Will still hadn't given you your fifty bucks. Yes, he had probably forgotten all about the bet you two had made.
"Alright, everyone listen up!" Voight yelled as he came out of his office. "Seeing as everyone wanted to run out early last weekend, you know what day it is. Everyone's favorite: paperwork."
The unit groaned and you just scribbled on your whiteboard. Haha, you have to do big kid homework.
"Yeah, yeah, it's hilarious," Jay replied. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, you've been complaining about a test."
You rolled your eyes and walked into the breakroom, leaving the door open in case they started messing around and you wanted a break.
***
It was nearing eleven when you heard an unfamiliar voice in the bullpen. "Taser recertification day everyone. To testify in court, you need to be tased at least once every year to know the effects."
Taser. Keyes. Pain. Burns. Terrifying. No, Y/N, you can't think that. He's locked up 23 and one. Now, focus on your damn homework.
Which amendments are also known as the Reconstruction amendments?
Buzz
Buzz
Buzz
13th, 14th, and 15th amendments.
You heard Kevin grunt. "Bigger they are, the harder they fall."
What are the three clauses in the 13th amendment?
"Who's next?"
"Fine, I'll do it. Not like this hasn't happened before. Just, please do my shoulder. Lord knows I've taken more hits to my pecs and abdomen than I can count."
Yelling and groans of pain...from none other than your brother.
Keyes. Keyes had found you guys and he wanted to finish what he started. Somehow he had gotten in here and stolen the taser and now he had Jay. It was just a matter of time before he found you, too.
There weren't any perfect hiding places in here, but if you moved the couch you might be able to crouch behind it and call for help before he found you. You could call Kelly or Will and tell them to call another precinct to get over here and fix it. Because, if Keyes had gotten in here and gotten his hands on a taser, then the cops in the 21st district precinct obviously couldn't do their jobs.
You got off your chair, staying close to the ground to make it harder for Keyes to spot you. You pulled, moving half of the couch away from the wall.
"What was that?"
Shit, he found you.
You could fit behind there, right? Yeah, yeah you could fit behind there.
"Who moved the couch?"
You hugged your knees to your chest, hearing footsteps coming closer and closer to you, and squeezed your eyes shut.
Someone touched your arm and you uncurled yourself and started kicking. You heard someone moan in pain as you felt your boot-clad foot make contact with someone else. You hoped it was Keyes.
"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!" You felt another person coming closer and closer to you and you swung your arm out, palm making contact with what you assumed to be someone's cheek.
"Y/N! Y/N! It's me, Jay! The person you just slapped is Jay. And the person you kicked is Adam. You're in the district, you're safe."
You opened your eyes and slowly blinked a few times. You saw Jay in front of you holding his hands up in surrender, a red mark on his left cheek. Adam was rubbing his shin and Voight, Hailey, Kevin, and Kim were all standing in the doorway with looks of worry spread across their faces.
Tears began to roll down your cheeks. You couldn't believe you just did that.
Jay nodded to everyone and they left the room, Adam closing the door behind him. You looked down; you couldn't even bear to look at Jay.
"You're okay," he whispered. "Do you know where you are?" You nodded. "Good, that's good. That's really good."
You hugged your knees to your chest once more and frantically shook your head back and forth.
"I know you don't think it's okay, Y/N. But, I forgive you. I know it wasn't you who was doing that. Hell, I know better than anyone else in this unit. I know you're showing PTSD symptoms and that's fine. We just gotta take it day by day."
You finally looked up at him. Your lips began to tremble and your body shook with sobs. It had been a month! This should be over by now! You should be back to normal by now! Why the fuck couldn't you just get over it?
"I know it's hard, I know," Jay whispered. "Can I touch you?"
You nodded and he somehow squeezed himself next to you and wrapped you a hug, letting you cry it all out once more.
Ten minutes had passed and you were sure you had run out of tears when Jay said, "Let's go grab some Oreos from the vending machine downstairs, and then we can get out of here. What do you say?"
You nodded and he helped you to your feet. Then, you put everything in your backpack and walked out of the breakroom.
"You're okay little mama," Kevin said and enveloped you in a hug before you got past his desk. "You're good."
You managed to give him a small smile before you turned to Adam and pulled out your whiteboard.
I'm so sorry.
"It's not that bad, really. Beats getting kicked in the balls on a case any day."
You and Jay were walking down the stairs when you saw Voight. "Give that taser certification guy hell for me, will you?" Jay asked.
He nodded and gave you a pat on the back, Voight's version of a hug.
***
6 weeks since kidnapping
Jay put the finishing touches on your cupcake, complete with chocolate frosting and sprinkles, before sticking the candle in the top. Today was your 21st birthday. He had already made the mimosa you said you wanted to have when you woke up (you had mentioned it 3 months before and he had put it in his calendar to remind himself) and it was sitting in the fridge to keep cold. He grabbed his lighter and walked to your room.
Voight was nice enough to give him and Hailey the day off so they could spend it with you, during the day that was. You had mentioned that you wanted to go out with some friends to a bar, but that was before everything had happened six weeks ago, so he assumed it wasn't on. Nevertheless, he, Hailey, and Will were still on a mission to make this birthday memorable...even if your first drinking experience at a bar would happen at Molly's with your brothers and their friends instead of out at a bar or club with your friends.
He flicked on a lamp when he got to your room and then walked to your bedside, gently shaking your shoulder. "Y/N, wake up."
You rolled over and slowly opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. Seeing Jay with a cupcake in his hand, you gave him a close-lipped smile.
"Happy, happy birthday. Today's your special day. You just got a cupcake, now blow the flame away. Hey!" Jay sang and then pulled out an orange lighter and flicked it open.
Your eyes grew wide as the flame danced from the lighter and onto the candlewick.
"Make a wish." He held the cupcake closer to you.
"I'll be quiet, I promise!" You scrambled backward and into the furthest corner of your bed away from Jay and the fire he was currently holding towards you.
He hadn't heard you speak in a month and a half, no one had.
Quickly, Jay blew out the candle and pocketed the lighter. Holding his hands up in surrender, he just stared at you as you began to shake in fear.
"Y/N," Jay whispered, still holding his hands to show you that the lighter wasn't in his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you."
You didn't look up. You didn't stop shaking.
He was lying. It was a ploy to get you to talk so that he could burn you longer.
He took a risk and touched your arm and you yanked it away, expecting it to burn. "I'll be quiet, I promise!" you repeated.
"Y/N, it's Jay. Do you know where you are?" He flicked on the light, hoping that would help.
No answer.
"You're in Chicago. You're at home. It's your birthday. Keyes isn't going to burn you, I promise."
At the mention of Keyes and burns, you swatted at the air, hoping that you could knock the lighter out of Keyes' hand when he didn't have it flicked open.
"Okay, noted," Jay muttered to himself. He had never seen you this bad before, not right after the attack, not after the nightmare, hell not even after the taser recertification incident. You had never shaken in fear during any of those occurrences when your triggers made a surprise appearance.
But then, he put two and two together: him being taken away from you, you never being burned when he was there and then having burns when they rescued you, jumping when anyone turned on the stove, and now freaking out when he pulled out a lighter and lit a candle for you on your birthday, you not talking and promising to be quiet after he pulled out a lighter and moved the cupcake towards you. It all made sense now.
"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" he told you, even though he knew you weren't able to hear him.
Jay made his way to his room and pulled out his gray weighted blanket. Then, he walked back into your room. You were only in your bra and underwear when you were with Keyes, so maybe having something else covering your body, despite the fact that you were currently fully clothed right now, would help.
Something soft and heavy landed on your legs. It didn't feel like Keyes was on top of you. It felt more comforting, calming, warm like you had more clothes on. Maybe Jay had somehow gotten his shirt back and had given it to you to keep you warm in this basement.
Wait, where did that lamp come from? There was only one lightbulb in here the last time you checked. And, why did it feel like you were sitting on something comfortable like a couch or a bed instead of on a cold, hard concrete floor?
Why was Jay standing up and not chained or tied to the wall? How did his face heal from the bruising so fast? Why was he wearing his pajamas?
Wait a minute, was that Jay's weighted blanket in your lap? And, was that your desk in the corner?
Jay noticed you looking around the room. "Do you know where you are now?" You nodded. "You know you're safe and in your room, right?" You nodded again, then took a deep breath and stretched out your legs, and moved forward, removing yourself from the corner and moving closer to Jay. "Do you still want your cupcake?"
You nodded and he handed it to you. "Are you okay going to see Dr. Charles today? I know you already had an appointment this week, but I think it might be good if you saw him again after what just happened." You nodded, agreeing with him. "You mind if Hailey comes over and stays with you? I gotta get ready and take care of something."
You gave him a thumbs up and he went to call Hailey while you sat in bed and tried to forget about the episode you just had by enjoying your cupcake.
***
"Halstead, what are you doing here?" Casey asked as Jay entered the firehouse after Hailey came over to stay with you.
"Oh thank God you guys are on shift. Severide here?" Jay asked.
"Yeah, in his office. Anything going on that I should know about?"
"Not really, I think I know why Y/N doesn't like fire though and I need the evidence pictures from the arson from when we were kidnapped to make sure I got it all straight."
Jay knocked on the door to Kelly's office and he looked up and waved him in.
"Jay, what are you doing here? Isn't it Y/N's birthday?" he asked, turning his chair around so he was now facing Jay instead of his desk.
"That's kinda why I'm here. She had an episode this morning when I gave her a cupcake. I tried to light the candle and then she flipped out and yelled I'll be quiet, I promise."
"She's talking?"
"All she did was repeat that sentence. The minute she saw the lighter and when the flame got close to her face, she freaked. So, I know this going to sound crazy, but is there any chance you found a small handheld lighter when you investigated the arson?"
"Let me see..." Kelly unlocked his filing cabinet and flipped through it, looking for the evidence file Jay had requested. "Here it is."
He laid the folder on the desk and Jay leaned over. He clenched his teeth as Kelly opened the folder, seeing the basement he was held captive in once more, even if it was covered in ash.
"Wait a minute, it's barely in the frame, but there's the end of the lighter. Let me friend the file on my computer and I can zoom in on it," Kelly suggested.
The clacking of keys could be heard as Kelly found the file and opened it, quickly finding the correct picture and pressing a few keys to zoom in on it.
"Oh, God," Jay whispered.
"What? What is it?"
"That lighter, it's the same color as the one I used to light Y/N's candle this morning. No wonder she freaked out."
"But why would she keep saying she'd be quiet?"
Jay nodded, pulling up a chair and sitting next to him. His eyes widened. He hadn't seen you get burned when he was with you, but what if that's what happened to you when they did the drop?
"Any way you can print that zoomed-in image out for me? I gotta get to Med."
"I can do that."
Kelly printed the picture and handed it to Jay. "Thanks, man. I'll get you a round at Molly's." Then, he quickly left and sped off to med, putting the pieces together.
***
Will was just walking out a treatment room, rubbing hand sanitizer in his hands, when a very determined Jay walked through the ED doors. "April, you mind charting the next patient? Jay's here and with that look on his face, well he's not gonna leave until he gets what he wants."
"Yeah, no problem. Good luck."
"Thanks." Will rolled his eyes.
"Will! Will I need to ask you something and you can't blow me off about this or claim patient confidentiality or some other legal bullshit."
"Legal bullshit? You're the cop here buddy, I'd expect you to care about the law more."
"Whatever, just is there some place we can talk?"
"Jay, I'm working. Can't this--"
"It's about Y/N," Jay blurted, knowing that that would most definitely get his older brother's attention.
"Okay, c'mon."
Will led the way to his office and once inside closed the door. "What's going on? What's so important about Y/N that you came to talk to me during my shift, not about a case, and left Y/N home alone on her birthday?"
"One, she's not home alone. Hailey's with her. And two, it's because I think I know how she got those burns."
"Fire, Jay. She got those burns from fire."
"I know that, smart ass. I mean, I think I know exactly how she got the burns." He laid the photo down on the desk. "That, that's a lighter. Now, if I remember correctly, first-degree burns are the worst because the fire directly hit the skin. Could that lighter have been the cause of her burns?"
Will typed away on his computer, pulling up the pictures of your burns, and looked closely at them, switching his attention from the picture of your burns to the evidence picture with the lighter. "But that's impossible," Will muttered. If the fire started at the floor and went to the walls, you'd either have burns on your feet and legs and/or on the left side of your body. But, you had them on both arms, your stomach, and your collarbone. And, the fire hadn't gotten high enough to be able to burn your upper body. "Unless..."
"Unless what, Will?"
"It's impossible to get these burns just from a burning building from the trajectory of the fire and the location of the burns. But, judging by the location and the severity of her burns, these most likely were made by Keyes holding the lighter to her, for longer than a few seconds. He had to have the lighter to her collarbone and stomach the longest, just by how bad those two are."
"You're sure?"
"I'm pretty damn sure, Jay. But, the only person who can tell if us if we're actually right, is Y/N. And, I don't think she's gonna wanna talk about this."
"Can you make her an emergency appointment with Dr. Charles?" Jay asked. "And, can you make sure you're there during the appointment, too?"
"What, why?"
"She had an episode this morning when I gave her a cupcake to wake up. I went to light the candle, she saw my lighter and the flame and flipped out. Then, she said that she promises to be quiet. You don't think- you don't think she burned her for talking do you?"
Will closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It all made sense: the not talking, the jumping when he turned on the stove, freaking out when Jay lit a candle.
"Based on what she's done, it makes sense. But, I'll consult with Dr. Charles before the appointment to tell him what's going on."
"Thanks, man. Bring those pictures to him, too."
Then, Jay left the office, thinking that between two of them and Kelly, that they had solved the mystery of why you hadn't talked in a month and a half.
***
You walked into Dr. Charles' office very confused to say the least. Hailey was waiting outside, but Jay and Will insisted on coming with you to this appointment; you just chalked it up to them being more worried about you than usual.
But, as you sat between your brothers on the long couch with Dr. Charles seated in the chair in front of you, you got a pit in your stomach. This felt more like an intervention.
"Y/N," Dr. Charles started, "Are you okay if your brothers sit in on this one? Or do you want them to leave?"
You pulled out your whiteboard. I'm just wondering why they're here with me in the first place. I know this morning was bad, but I didn't think it was that bad.
"You know, that's a very good question and I'm really glad you asked that. Jay, would you like to tell Y/N where you went earlier today?"
You turned to Jay expectantly. "I went to see Kelly and I asked him to show me the crime scene photos from Keyes' place."
At the mention of Keyes, you tensed up. Will squeezed your shoulder. "Y/N, remember those relaxation techniques I taught you?" Dr. Charles asked. You nodded. "How about you try one right now."
You closed your eyes and pictured a beach, the waves crashing against the shore, the feeling of sand between your toes. You walked closer to the water's edge and felt the coolness of the freshwater, whisking the sand from between your toes away. You felt the sun on your face and squinted your eyes against the brightness of the day.
"Better?" Dr. Charles asked as he noticed your breathing had become slower and most of the tension had left your body. You nodded. "Go to the beach again?" You nodded in confirmation again. "Good, I can tell it's a place that really relaxes you. Are you okay for Jay to continue?"
You turned to Jay, hoping that was answer enough. And it was because he continued explaining why he needed the crime scene photos. "I knew that there was a possibility that Keyes' could've been the one to burn you, but I didn't know. So, I went to Kelly to see if there was a lighter in any of the crime scene photos. There was, an orange one to be exact."
Keyes flicked the orange lighter open, playing with the flame and letting it move in between his fingers.
"Y/N, the beach, remember the beach," Dr. Charles prompted, bringing you back to the present moment after you took a few deep breaths while thinking of the fresh smell of the water and the sand.
Jay looked at you, silently asking if it was okay to continue. When you nodded, he started once more. "So, I saw that and I remembered that you'd promised to be quiet this morning. I came to Med to talk to Will, and between the two of us, well we figured out that he'd burned you, Y/N."
Your eyes filled with tears at the memories of how terrified you had been. You were so sure you were going to die that day.
"Did he play some sort of sick, twisted game with you, Y/N?" Will asked.
You looked down as your lip began to quiver. He had, you wanted to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He told me that if I talked he'd hold the lighter there longer and that's why the ones on my stomach and my collarbone are the worst and the one on my thigh isn't as bad because he said I was learning the game. That was what you wanted to say at least, but you couldn't even part your lips.
Dr. Charles handed you a bottle of water and you took it from him, feeling the coolness in your hands, a reminder that fire was nowhere near you at the moment. "Y/N I think he burned you if you talked, is that it? Just nod your head yes or no, you don't have to talk or write if you don't want to. You are the one in control here. And, if you don't want to tell us if he burned you for talking or what the game was, that's fine, too."
You moved your head up and down once, confirming both of your brothers' worst fear: Keyes had burned you for talking.
Jay wanted to speed all the way to Stateville Prison and burn that son of a bitch Derek Keyes for what he did to you. But, somehow, he kept his cool and just looked at you with soft eyes and grabbed your hand.
"Y/N, I have something I want to try," Dr. Charles started, "I've already told Jay and Will about it just so that they won't freak out, but whether or not you actually want to try it, that's all up to you. We do whatever you want to do."
You looked up at Dr. Charles with glassy eyes.
"There's this therapy called in vivo exposure therapy, nicknamed flooding. What happens is, we take the patient's biggest fear, in your case that would be fire and talking, and we bring it out in the open, exposing you to your biggest fear in a safe and secure environment. The logic behind this is that the anxiety and adrenaline only last for a certain amount of time and once those drop, you realize that your fear of this was unwarranted."
What would it entail? you wrote.
"What would happen is that either Jay, Will, or I would hold an open lighter near you."
You frantically shook your head no and leaned more into Will.
"Okay, then we won't--"
"Listen, Y/N," Will started. "You are in a safe environment. We will not let anything happen to you. Ever. You gotta believe us on that. We just wanna hear you talk again. Let us help you. Let me help you. You will be safe the entire time and if you want me and Jay to sit on either side of you, like we're doing now, while Dr. Charles holds the lighter, we can do that. Isn't that right, Jay?"
"He's absolutely right, kid. We'll be right here the entire time."
You grabbed your whiteboard and took a deep breath. And you promise this will work? You promise there will be a drop in my anxiety at some point?
"I think that there's a very high chance that will work. And, I can promise you that there will be a drop in your anxiety during this because there always is a drop. If we got anxiety and then that fight or flight instinct didn't leave, well life would be scary all the time. And that's just not how life works," Dr. Charles answered.
Okay, you wrote. We can do it.
"Do you want me or one of them to hold it?"
You pointed to Dr. Charles.
What relaxation technique should I use to calm myself down?
"I'd recommend using the body scan because it takes the longest, but you can use whatever technique you want."
You nodded and closed your eyes.
"You ready?"
You nodded once again and Will wrapped his arm around your shoulder in the protective-oldest-brother-way he always had and Jay gave your hand a squeeze, silently reassuring you that everything would be okay.
"Start by relaxing your feet now, so that you're that you're in the right headspace."
You clenched and unclenched your toes, taking slow deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth, relaxing your toes one by one and focusing only on those sensations.
You heard the lighter flick open before you felt it. But when you felt it, it was near your face.
The smell of blood pierced your nostrils, whether it was yours or Jay's you had no idea. You were being held by one of Keyes' associates, his arm strongly wrapped around your shoulder. This time, you weren't hanging from the ceiling, but your arms were chained to the sides of you. Part of the chain laid in your right hand and it felt so heavy that you thought your hand was going to fall off.
He was saving the best for last, he was going to burn your face and let you burn from top-down. The fire would start at your cheek, move up to your nose, and then your eyes. You didn't want to even think about how much pain you'd feel when it hit your eyes. But, maybe you'll have passed out from shock, fear, or exhaustion by that point. You hoped you would.
Salty tears made your way down your face as you realized that this was it. You'd never see your brothers or your best friend again. You'd never graduate college. You'd never get to pick out the perfect wedding dress and walk down the aisle to marry the love of your life. Your last moments would be spent being burned alive in a basement, hoping against hope that someone would get here fast enough to rescue you. And, even though you knew Jay's unit was fast and wouldn't stop until you were safe, your hope was quickly fading.
"Any last words?"
"Please, please, no! I'll do anything! Anything!" you yelled, tugging on the chains.
But, he didn't burn your cheek for talking. Keyes broke the rules of his own game.
This was bad. It was just going to be worse for you. Your chest started moving up and down, trying to pass out from hyperventilation as fast as possible.
"Focus on your feet. Move the relaxation to your feet."
Who was that? It sounded like Dr. Charles.
"Relax, relax, relax."
Will was here, too?
But, whatever the reason, you focused on relaxing your feet. Maybe it would make dying easier.
The lighter hadn't moved closer to face as you made your way up your legs and relaxed your knees. Was Keyes going to burn you? Or, was he going to let you go?
"If you're gonna kill me, Keyes, then just do it!"
No answer.
You slowed your breath even more.
If Keyes didn't answer, that meant that he wasn't here. That meant, it was only fire. And, without Keyes to hold the fire. Fire couldn't hurt you. It couldn't hurt you.
"It can't hurt me. It can't hurt me," you whispered to yourself.
You dropped your head and shoulders and started to pant as the adrenaline wore off. Slowly you opened your eyes. "It can't hurt me," you said so that everyone in the room could hear.
Dr. Charles flicked the lighter closed.
You looked at each of your brothers. The person who you thought was Keyes' associate was just Will with his arm around you. And, what you had thought was part of the chain in your hand, was just Jay squeezing your hand.
"Thank you," you said to all three of them.
You turned to Will, to see him crying. "Why are you crying?" You turned and saw that Jay had tears in his eyes, too.
"I know the statistics of coming back from something like that, Y/N, of talking again. And I was scared- I was scared that you wouldn't come back from it."
"Hey, you're okay. We're okay," you repeated something that everyone has been telling you the past weeks.
You turned to Jay, knowing that this needed to be said. "And, Jay?" He looked you directly in the eyes. "I forgive you."
And that was all it took for a stray tear to roll down his cheek and for him to pull you into a hug. "I love you kid, you know that?"
"I love you, too. Both of you. Thanks for not giving up on me."
"Not a chance in hell," Will told you.
"Now, what do you say we go grab that mimosa?" Jay suggested.
"Yeah, let's do that."
The three of you said goodbye to Dr. Charles and left his office, meeting Hailey in the hallway. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for the book and coffee, Hailey, so thank you."
A smile grew on Hailey's face. "You're welcome." Then, she turned to Jay. "I told you she'd come around."
"You were right, babe...as always." Jay grabbed Hailey's hand in his and interlocked their fingers. "Think you can get someone to cover your shift, Will? Come out with us for some good old-fashioned brunch and day-drinking?"
"I think I might be able to manage that. Text me the place and I'll meet you there."
He started to walk away, on a mission to get someone to cover for him, when you remembered something. "Will, you owe me fifty bucks!"
#jay halstead#will halstead#hailey upton#chicago pd#chicago med#one chicago#kelly severide#chicago pd imagine#chicago med imagine#imagine#fanfiction#fanfic#halstead sister#halstead sister imagine#halstead brothers#halstead bros#halstead brothers imagine
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Bill and Ted do a scary movie marathon but then cant sleep
hello yes its no surprise that my first thought was nightmare on elm street so we're going with a 5 movie marathon of THAT up to the 1989 film HAHA 🤙 hope you enjoy!!
A/N: there are some very vague spoilers for the nightmare on elm street series (i mean like VAGUE) and also uhh small warning for like mentions of the slashing in the films?? its NOES i mean 🤷
this came out very kinda cute and idk if that's what you wanted but it's what my brain created 🎸
---
Bill and Ted have never done very well with especially scary movies.
Of course, they could handle one by itself, so long as it's followed up by something else lighthearted and definitely not The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
However, the newest A Nightmare On Elm Street was supposed to be coming out soon, and it was Bill's brightest of ideas that they marathon the first five in preparation for the plotline. The last thing Bill remembered happening, vaguely, is an unborn baby and something about a nun. Ted hardly remembered the first one.
Hence, the marathon.
"Dude, we're totally gonna dominate this horror marathon," Bill said as he started busting out the VHS box set, laying them side by side so he wouldn't forget what order they had to watch them in. "I highly doubt that we, as mature adults of modern society, will cower in the face of Freddy Krueger." Bill looked up to see Ted's face scrunched with pension, and immediately started to back away from the whole thing entirely, putting the first movie back down.
"I just...," Ted huffed where he was slumped on their couch, and whipped his head up to look at Bill. "Remember when we saw the first one in the theatre and screamed so loud that the attendant dude had to escort us out?"
"Yeah..." Bill remembered the memory well. They totally missed out on the ending of that movie the first time. Bill shook his head, "But Ted, that was, like, seven years ago. We've totally grown up! I'm sure that it'll be a most excellent experience."
Ted could hear the hope in Bill's voice, so he gave a small huff and a firm, brave nod for Bill to put the tape in. Bill pumped his fist as he inserted the tape, jumping back up onto the couch next to Ted and nearly knocking their popcorn bowl over. Bill suggested they start the marathon around five, considering they were about to embark upon nearly eight hours of monster movie magic. The two had already spent the afternoon together making sure they had easy meals for when they got hungry later.
Ted had almost wished they didn't need the marathon as an excuse to do so, but of course, it was quickly a thought to be pushed to the back of his head.
The opening sequence of the first film began, and soon enough, both Bill's and Ted's eyes were laser-trained on the small TV, Ted giving a jump at any scare and Bill giving a gasp at any gore.
They managed okay through the first one. "The first one's never the scariest, dude," Bill said with forced confidence, though Ted could clearly see him shivering as he set up the next tape. He was shivering too, and he kind of wished Bill would sit closer to him, just to make sure he was actually there, and it all wasn't a dream where Freddy was about to slash open his insides at the last second.
They pushed their way through the second and the third without moving from the couch, and Ted finally chanced a glance over at Bill as soon as the credits started rolling.
Bill was visibly shaking, in a way that made Ted wonder if he was having some sort of horror-induced seizure.
"Dude," Ted said quietly, and Bill blinked as he let out a deep breath and looked over at Ted. "Are you okay?" Bill swallowed as he nodded.
"I'm totally cool, duder," he said assuredly, though his face didn't say the same. "Uh... Snack break?"
"Yeah, dude, definitely." Ted looked up and over at their wall clock to see it was almost ten at night, and they hadn't eaten a single mouthful of anything since their popcorn. "I'm egregiously starved."
Bill nodded as he stood up before stopping completely in his tracks.
"Dude," he said, quiet. "I have a most terrible feeling." Ted swallowed thickly as he watched Bill turn away.
"Dude, whatever joke you're about to pull, I swear, I'll punch you," Ted warned immediately. "Don't."
"Dude, it isn't a joke, I think-" Bill suddenly whipped his body around towards Ted and Ted let out a loud scream as he cowered away from Bill's figure. Bill let out a relieved sigh and Ted slowly uncovered his face to see Bill rubbing at his back. "I twisted my back, dude."
"Oh," Ted breathed out. He shook his head, "Dude, I totally thought you were about to Krueger me." Bill looked at him for a long moment before he started to laugh, and Ted couldn't help but join in.
The thought was so ridiculous, of course, but Ted could never be too sure with the things he'd experienced in life.
"C'mon, Ted, let's eat dinner," Bill huffed as he stretched out a little more before heading to the kitchen to heat up their pre-made spaghetti. Bill returned five minutes later with two bowls of noodles and two forks, passing one into Ted's lap and setting the other on top of the TV before reaching for the next tape.
"Bill, dude, already?" Ted said as Bill slid out the tape and inserted the next (he'd have to remind himself to rewind them all later the next day).
"Ted, the sooner we get through them, the sooner we can be done," Bill reasoned as the fourth movie began, grabbing his bowl and sliding back onto the couch, this time within Ted's immediate reach. Whether or not it was intentional was beyond either of them.
"You make it sound heinous," Ted mumbled, though his eyes were already studying the screen with apt attention.
"Sometimes, my friend, you have to suffer to enjoy masterpieces," Bill mumbled back, mindlessly twirling his spaghetti in the bowl without picking it up.
The fourth movie ended more abruptly than either of them expected, with only half of each of their bowls eaten. Bill blinked into the suddenly eerie and dark room as he abandoned his bowl and fork and dove for the TV to stop the tape. The room went suddenly quiet and Ted didn't dare move.
"One more," Bill whispered despite the fact that they were the only ones there, and Ted listened to Bill insert the fifth and final tape.
"Dude," Ted pleaded, unsure what he was pleading for. Probably for Bill to finish and get back up on the couch so Ted didn't throw himself in a full-fledged panic. They'd already come so far and they weren't about to give up now, but it would help immensely if he weren't alone.
Bill jumped back up onto the couch, thigh to thigh with Ted as the last opening sequence of the night played in their dark living room at nearly midnight.
Bill's closeness was more distracting than ever, Ted almost missing the best and most heinously gorey pieces of the film every time Bill tensed up and shook against him. He's sure he'd been doing the same thing, though Bill didn't seem at all affected by it.
It was strange how fear seemed to literally bring them closer together, and it almost made Ted laugh at the thought that Freddy Krueger could possibly be some kind of ingenious cupid, creating connection through collective terrorising.
However, as he listened to the children sing Freddy's rhyme at the end of the movie, he thought better of that notion because Bill was hiding his face in his shoulder, and he was pretty sure no cupid would do such a thing as to make his best friend cry.
"Bill, dude, you're shaking," Ted whispered quietly. "The movie's over." Bill breathed in as he lifted his head to look at the TV, relieved to see that it was over. He subtly began to wipe at his eyes, and it amazed Ted how this had all been Bill's idea, and yet he was the one most terrified.
"Ted, I do believe," Bill began, doing his best to puff up his chest, "that we are truly the most bravest of all the brave." Ted smiled as he nodded. He would've made fun of Bill for getting scared were it not for the own lingering terror he was still feeling.
"Bill, we are most definitely two of the bravest men alive," Ted agreed with a nod. He paused for a second before adding, "Next time, though, maybe we should just see the new movie by itself."
It took a moment before Bill nodded, and they both collectively said, "Agreed."
Ted did the liberty of turning the lights back on and throwing out their half-eaten dinners, Bill putting the tape pile aside for rewinding later. They both finished and met up at their bedroom door before nodding and heading to their respective beds.
It was quiet as they slipped underneath their sheets, Ted reaching and turning off the bedside lamp, shrouding them both in darkness. Ted could hear Bill's unsteady breathing from the other side of the room, large breaths in and out like he was having trouble calming down.
Ted was having a similar issue, wincing every time he tried to close his eyes and seeing gruesome scenes from the movies behind the lids. He did his best to think about other, less Krueger-y things, but ultimately, it seemed like even through film, Freddy seemed to have a hold on both of them.
After nearly a whole hour of heavy breathing and occasional wincing, Ted finally spoke up, "Dude, I totally can't sleep."
"Yeah, me neither," Bill said instantly, taking another deep breath. "I keep thinking that Freddy dude is gonna get me as soon as I fall asleep."
"Dude, me too." Ted huffed. "You think if we fell asleep at the same time, we'd have the same dream? That way if he does end up coming after us, at least we'll be together."
"Ted, that's total bogus," Bill groaned, rolling over to look at Ted. "He isn't real."
"Yeah, but our brains think he totally is," Ted countered. "So, if we trick our brains into thinking he can't fight the both of us at once, maybe we'll get some sleep." A long silence seemed to stretch before Bill let out a snort, and Ted let one out right after. "Yeah, dude, that's definitely not how it works."
"Nah, dude," Bill laughed. "But your idea would be most outrageously correct within the Elm Street universe." Ted laughed as he watched Bill shake with his own in the darkness.
"Let's try to sleep, Bill," Ted said when the chuckles died down, and he tried to shut his eyes. The images still flashed, however, and he had to open his eyes again. Bill was still staring at him. "Dude, this is most non-triumphant."
"...Hey, Ted," Bill spoke up, voice nervous, and Ted gave him his undivided attention. "D'you... Like, would it be okay if-"
"-we shared the bed?" Ted finished the thought, and Bill let out a barely visible grin. "Yeah, dude."
Since Bill had the bigger blanket of the two of them, Ted was the one to climb under Bill's covers and lay down inches from his face. Somehow, this was far better than sleeping ten feet away from him. This way, Ted could feel him and make sure he was there.
"Hey, dude," Ted said, breath hot against Bill's face, and he managed a smile.
"Thanks, Ted," he found himself saying, and Ted furrowed his brows.
"For what, dude?"
"I would've never gotten through five of the most egregiously gorey and triumphantly horrific movies in cinema without you."
Ted laughed as he hid his face in Bill's chest, and Bill found himself holding him as he did so, until they were just lying there, together.
"And we'll get through the new one together, too," Ted mumbled into Bill, whose breathing had finally gone steady.
This time when he closed his eyes, he didn't catch the flashing images of Freddy Krueger. Instead, he saw the flashing images of Bill and his grin that said there was no way Freddy Krueger could ever best the both of them as long as they were together.
#the king speaks#the king writes#bill and ted#bill s. preston esq.#ted theodore logan#bnt#a nightmare on elm street#freddy krueger#billandted
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Silver Keys - Chapter Five
JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton Soulmate AU
warnings: none, let me know if there ever are :)
notes: first, I know this took agesssss I'm sorry but I've been sitting on a couple chapters so you guys should be getting some updates for a while. Second, I lost my tag lists. so lmk if you want added to this one or my general tag list. I've been writing a lot more to cope with my anxiety so... things are coming bahaha. Love you guys, thanks for your support recently - J
Silver Keys Masterlist
June probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone besides her sister and Kie, but going out with Topper was fun. When he had asked her out to have dinner at the country club, she was worried she wouldn’t fit in at all. June was convinced she’d make it about 15 minutes before she bailed and met everyone back at the Chateau. She had on shoes she could barely walk in and a dress she found at goodwill, no doubt someone’s from a homecoming dance in years past and she was fighting the urge to pull her hair up all night. But then she realized they had talked straight through appetizers, dinner, and the waiter had come by twice for the check. The two of them had fallen into a comfortable understanding with each other that had continued into the following weeks.
He picked her up from work on most days, driving around in search of the perfect chocolate chip cookie. June argues that the small bakery run out of one of the local’s houses has the best cookies, but Topper is determined to try every option before making a decision. It had started as kind of a joke, but now it was just an excuse for them to hang out.
Currently, they were at the island’s movie night, chairs propped up near the back and various snacks shared between the two of them. Topper’s arm rested on her shoulders, something she had become accustomed to the past few weeks. June found herself more relaxed with him, it was easy being with Topper. She didn’t have to think or worry, June could just be.
They were playing The Sandlot, arguably the best movie of all time and June had to hold back from saying the iconic lines with the characters. She had grown up watching this movie with her sister and had practically begged Topper to go see it.
“Really?” He had asked the day before, “The movie nights aren’t really our thing.”
“Yeah, that’s because you guys always cause trouble and then get kicked out.”
He shook his head.
“Yes, you do. Besides, you’re gonna be with me and I am a model citizen.”
He laughed then and again in the chair beside her now.
She found herself leaning into him naturally, even with the arms of both their chairs in between them. It was something she had never had previously. June didn’t do relationships. In high school, she mostly stuck with the pogues and focused on school and not getting in trouble with the cops. Sure, she had the occasional crush or hookup with a touron, but nothing was ever serious. Not that this was, but it was closer to that than anything else June had experienced.
The next morning June had her last piano rehearsal with Mrs. Hana before the recital. The Saturday coming up was the big dress rehearsal. The one with the kids from all over the island and hundreds of different schools and programs. And the weekend following that was the recital. Her whole family was going. Her dad had even surprised her by getting a hotel room for all of them and making a whole trip about it. He had to work night shifts for two weeks, but he assured her it was worth it. Not that that added any pressure.
At rehearsal, June played nearly perfectly. She had only messed up a couple of notes near the end. She’d be lucky if Saturday went as smoothly as this. Mrs. Hana corrected her posture and made her go from the top. They went on like this the whole lesson: June playing and her correcting one thing at a time before making her start over. Normally, June would argue, but she knew it was because Mrs. Hana understood how important this was. This could set her future up, get her off the island if she wanted. She could do something she loved every day.
The night before the recital, June was laying on a hammock in John B’s backyard.
“Nervous?” Kie questions.
June shrugged, “Kinda, yeah.”
“I’m sure you’re going to do fine,” Pope said with confidence. It was only the three of them. John B and JJ had ventured out to get snacks and beer but hadn’t been back for an hour. June’s guess was they found a party and couldn’t bother to text an update. That or they got arrested. Which probably would’ve earned a phone call quicker than the first option. She chuckled thinking about this.
“It’s just a rehearsal and Liv is driving down with me so I don’t really have anything to worry about.”
“You seem to have this all figured out,” he said with a laugh.
Kie said, “And I cannot wait to celebrate when you get back! It’s gonna be so fun.”
June could only imagine what her best friend was thinking when she said this. She was sure it would end like most nights did, tipsy and watching movies on John B’s couch. Her favorite way to end a day. The three of them drift into a comfortable silence, lost in their thoughts. June starts to hear a familiar melody, but can’t quite put her finger on it. She was sure it wasn’t anything she had chosen to listen to, but couldn’t figure out where she had heard it before.
She was brought back to reality when John B and JJ come strutting into the yard, cases of beer on their shoulders and grocery bags in their hands. Kie and June both started cheering.
They set down the stuff on the closest table.
“What took so long?” Pope asked, getting up and rummaging through the bags. He pulls out a bag of chips before turning around.
“You’re not even going to believe it.” John B starts, taking a seat.
“Hey,” JJ yelled at June, “Gummies?” He asks and holds up a bag of gummy worms.
She nods her head and he tosses them over before grabbing his own snack and beer and joining her on the hammock. They all listen to JB’s story, JJ adding in his own variations and making everyone laugh.
“And who ended up being in front of us at the grocery store?” He paused for dramatic effect, “Sarah Cameron.”
June realized a beat late that she was supposed to be reacting, “Sarah Cameron!” she repeated.
JJ turned his head to keep from laughing.
“Am I supposed to be excited?” Kie asked, an annoyed expression on her face. She and Sarah used to be friends before they drifted into different friend groups.
“Yes, Kie. It was like fate.”
JJ spoke up, “I would hardly call it fate.”
John B just rolled his eyes at his friends and took another drink.
“What happened to Molly Fields?” Pope questioned. That was the girl we had gone to elementary school with, the latest victim of John B’s soulmate search.
“Nah,'' he dismissed, “This one’s different.”
“Well, I hope it is, JB,” June spoke up. He looked over and smiled at her.
The next morning June and Olivia jump in the car and start towards the concert hall where her dress rehearsal was being held. She had been up for hours, too excited and nervous to sleep. June had gotten ready, done her makeup, changed three times, and called Topper twice all before Olivia had even woken up. Downstairs, their mom had made some breakfast and June couldn’t bear to tell her she was too nervous to eat anything. So, she grabbed a pancake and thanked her parents.
They listened to music the whole way down, Liv was always determined to get June to listen to the most mainstream pop music she could. She always argued that she wouldn’t understand anyone’s references and it would be an embarrassing mess. June made sure to point out that she had made it 18 years without that ever happening, but nonetheless she persisted.
When they arrived, they parked the car and decided to window shop. They were still about an hour early from call time and Liv was restless enough as it was. June was trying to push her nerves down. She didn’t want to come across that way to the instructors. June had a vision that she would walk across the stage, take a deep breath, and be transported by the music. She didn’t want to have the weight of the competition on her shoulders or the constant confusion about her soulmate circling in her head. That was a new development. June found herself lying awake at night going over everything Topper had said or done and trying to place it into this mysterious soulmate cut out she had in her head. She was trying to do a puzzle with the wrong number of pieces. And she wasn’t even sure if it was the right picture on the box.
….
“Okay, turning the key a bunch of times isn’t going to do any good if the battery is dead,” Olivia said, snapping her head to look at June from the passenger side.
After the dress rehearsal, June had called Liv and the two of them had eaten in the cafeteria with a few other performers. June was practically glowing after being there for a few hours, she couldn’t imagine how she would feel at the actual recital. Everything was going perfectly.
Until they got back to the car and realized the battery was dead.
“Well,” June sighed, “I don’t know what else to do.” Her voice pinched.
“Can’t we call a mechanic?”
“Liv, you know we can’t afford that. Especially in this area. We just need a jump.”
She surveyed the empty parking lot and tried to think of what to do without panicking. They were too far from home to have someone just pick them up and there were no cars in sight. Even if there were, they didn’t have any jumper cables. Maybe they could take the bus home and get help tomorrow. June probably had enough cash in her purse for two bus tickets.
“Isn’t there like a trick with distilled water? That could get us somewhere.”
“You think I have distilled water in my car? Besides, I have no idea how to do that.”
“I’m just trying to give you ideas here,” Olivia said, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.
June leaned her head back and closed her eyes, thinking and thinking.
She was interrupted when Olivia opened the driver’s side door and handed her the phone, “here.”
Confused, June lifted the phone to her ear, “hello?”
“June? What’s going on?” JJ’s voice was on the other end.
“J, we’re fine. Just a little car trouble.” She rolled her eyes at her sister.
“We’re stranded!” Olivia yelled so that he could hear.
“We’re fine,” she said, shooting her sister a look.
JJ speaks up, “Doesn’t sound fine. June, I’ll just come out and help. No problem.”
“No, no. We just need a jump-”
“I’m already in the car, just send me your location.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yeah, but I’m going to.”
Defeated, June agrees and sends him the address of the music hall.
About 45 minutes later, JJ pulls into the parking spot opposite of them, “Hey,” he says as he turns the key and gets out of the car.
“Oh thank god! JJ, do you have AC? I’m melting.” Olivia yells. She’s already getting in his truck and rotating the fans to blow her hair back before he can process what she’s just said.
“I’m sorry,” June starts, but he interrupts her.
“Eh, no big deal”
“I can give you gas money for coming all the way out here.”
He shakes his head, “Nah. Here catch.” JJ throws one end of the jumper cables to her, “You know how to put them on?”
June scoffs, “This isn’t my first jump, Maybank.”
Once everything is sorted out with June’s car, the three of them drive to the nearest ice cream shop. Mostly because Olivia was being dramatic and promised to pay for herself, but also to thank JJ for driving the whole way out here just to get them home.
“I don’t know, it’s like what if my soulmate doesn’t like ice cream? Ew, or worse, orders mint chocolate chip.” Olivia said as they headed to a table outside. The spot they had picked was really nice, there were picnic tables with umbrellas lined up on a patio in front of the window they had ordered from.
June just laughed, a conversation the two of them had had more than once.
“What’s wrong with mint chocolate chip?” JJ asked.
Olivia made a face, “only everything.”
“Isn’t the whole point of a soulmate that you overlook those flaws and-”
“Please. Don’t lecture me.” She begs.
“She’s kinda right though,” JJ replies, looking at June for a second and scrunching his nose. She smiles back, looking down at her ice cream.
“Have you heard it?” She asks him.
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “the other night at John B’s.” He meets June’s eyes. “I fell asleep on the pullout and the storm woke me up. So I was just laying awake and that’s when I heard it. It was really faint. Mad weird though,” He finished and took a bite of his ice cream, making June shudder.
She remembered the night he was talking about. It had stormed for about two days last week. She thought about what she was probably doing at the time, practicing for the recital, maybe reading until
she drifted off.
“Do you think you know who it is?” Olivia inquired.
He shook his head, “No, haven’t thought about it.”
“You don’t wanna know?”
“I mean, sure. But if I’m gonna find out anyway by force of,” he struggled for the right word before landing on, “the universe, then why stress right now?”
That answer seemed to have satisfied her enough because she nodded her head and stopped asking questions.
When she finally pulled into her driveway, June had a phone call.
The three of them had left shortly after ice cream, JJ following them most of the way back before he went off towards John B’s and June continued straight, with a quick wave behind her.
Olivia had practically jumped out of the car before she had even parked so now, June answered her phone, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“Hey,”
“Hey!” Topper said on the other end, “I wanted to see how everything went. I stopped by your house just a little bit ago, but your car wasn’t in front.”
June groaned, “That’s because we just now pulled in. The practice was great! Everyone was so talented and I got to meet a couple of instructors. It was really cool.”
“That’s amazing, bub.”
“Yeah, it really was.”
“What took you so long getting home?”
“Oh, uh. I just had some car trouble, no biggie.”
“Oh, is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just needed a quick jump and then we were on our way.” June chuckled, nervously. She hadn’t even thought to call Topper when her car wouldn’t start. Truthfully she hadn’t thought to call anyone, but she still felt nervous to tell him what happened.
“So someone had cables? That’s pretty lucky.” He pressed.
“Uhm. No, actually. We had to call JJ for some help and then we were good to go. It drove perfectly on the way home.”
There was a pause before he spoke again, “You could’ve called or texted me.”
“I didn’t want to bother you. I wasn’t even the one who called JJ, it was Liv.”
“Well, I could’ve helped.”
“It’s fine, really.”
“I would’ve called a mechanic for you, had someone come out and get you.”
“And I would have really appreciated it,” June laughed nervously, “Next time I promise I will call you.”
He stayed silent for a long time before speaking, “It’s just your first thought wasn’t to call your boyfriend. Forgive me if I’m a little upset.”
She pondered over his words for a moment, skipping over the mention of ‘boyfriend,’ “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “yeah, you’re right. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”
June nodded even though he couldn’t see her and hung up the phone. She huffed, threw her phone in her bag, and marched up the sidewalk inside.
#highpopefics#silverkeys#silverkeys masterlist#jj maybank#topper thornton#outer banks#obx#jj maybank x oc#obx fic#outer banks fic#obx series#obx x reader
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Dark Alleys and Dark Bruises- Javid
Helllloooo!!! I haven’t posted a Javid oneshot for awhile so here you go! (also on Wattpad: Forbidden Thoughts~Javid Oneshots)
TW: blood, homophobia, use of f****t, angst (with happy ending!!)
The dirty puddles twinkled in the soft lamplight as Jack Kelly's footsteps disturbed them. He watched the ripples disappear into the edges, humming with slight interest. Leaning on the wall beside him, Jack looked up at the few stars that he could see through the clouds.
That kid's really killin' me, he thought bitterly. Again, his mind landed on a subject that he could never escape: David Jacobs.
Jack was on the way back to the Lodge from walking Davey and Les to their home, "It's dangerous out these days," was the only excuse he could muster, trying to hide the fact he just wanted more time with Davey.
Now, as Jack stood alone, he looked glumly around. Everything here could only remain him of Davey- the grimy pavement as dark as the boys hair, the soft lamplight as tender as his cheek, hidden alleyways where Jack would fantasise pulling him into, the twinkling stars matching his shining eyes.
Jack shook his head angrily.
He pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands roughly in his pockets. Girls, boys, he loved them both. Too bad none but the newsies really liked that.
So caught up in his thoughts as he was, Jack didn't see the two shadows slither up behind him.
A voice dripped in sarcasm drifted out from the darkness as Jack froze in his tracks.
"Oi! What'd we's have here now? That the famous Jack Kelly, is it?"
Oscar and Morris Delancey scuffled out from behind him. Jack sighed loudly, turning back with a fake, smug smile and threw his hands up.
"Oscar, Morris. What cha doing down in these parts, shouldn't yer be crawlin' 'round by someone else's feet at this time of night?"
Oh, they didn't like that comment.
Their smiles faded and clean shaven jaw clenched.
"We's was just passin' by 'til we saw ya round 'ere alone." Oscar spat, cracked his knuckles and advanced. Jack tried to stand his ground but when Oscars hot and mucky breath washed over his cold face, he clenched his fists and stepped back.
"My fists have been aching without anything to punch-" before Jack could respond, Morris took a swing at him, but he dodged it with a gulp. What were they playing at? What did they want?
"Oi, where's yer little boyfriend, aye Kelly? Davey was it?"
Ah, so that's what they wanted.
"Don't have a boyfriend," Jack shrugged, "What, you offering Morris?"
Morris growled and pushed him roughly into an empty alley way. Jack, who hadn't prepared to be pushed, fell violently onto his back, hitting his head on the pavement. Before he could get up, Oscar dug his heel into his chest and forced him back down.
He leaned over him, "Come on Jaaaack, you can tell us if yer a dirty homosexual. We's won't tell."
Jack struggled against his foot and attempted to push him off.
"I ain't gonna. An' if I were, I don't appreciate yer callin' us dirty."
Oscar let Jack scramble up to stand, then kicked him in the stomach, winding him and making him double over in a vulnerable position where they could sock him right in the jaw.
"We's ain't stupid," Morris growled, "You're a disgusting f****t, we've seen the way you and that Davey kid look at each other."
Jack coughed up bright red blood onto the grimy pavement.
"Burn in hell." He snarled.
They leaned forward, "Oh, we won't be the only ones, Queer."
Before another breath could be taken, they started kicking him down, punching him in the jaw, bruising his ribs, cutting his head until it bled on the ground, spitting on his face.
Then, they left him in the cold, bleeding and bruised, hardly able to sit up, slurs echoing through his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where's Jack?" Les whined, looking around at the Newsies Square. Davey's smile flattered but he straightened up to pat his brother reassuringly on his head.
"He'll be here."
A minute passed, then five, then fifteen.
Crutchie hobbled over to them.
"You's seen Jack this mornin'?"
Davey's brow furrowed and shook his head. "No. Didn't he come back last night?"
It was Crutchies turn to shake his head.
Davey looked around anxiously, "He wouldn't have gone to Brooklyn or Queens or somethin'?"
Crutchie looked around as if he would sense him. "Nah, he woulda told one a us," he frowned. "Or you's guys," he added.
Worry started to tease at the edge off Davey's mind. Jack was strong. He would be fine.
If he's strong he would've made it back by now, Daveys brain argued.
Okay, now his mind was full of fear of every single bad thing that could happen to a Newsies around these parts- especially in the middle of the night when Jack had left.
Racer- who had previous joined the conversation- laid a reassuring hand on David's shoulder, "Aye..... Aye Dave what ya worrying about? It's gonna be-"
"I'm gonna go look for 'em," Davey snapped, turning sharply away before giving Les the money and waving a quick goodbye for now. After a nod from Crutchie, Racetrack went with him.
~~~~~~~~~~~
They had been following the route back to Davey's apartment for a while now, checking each dark alley, each shop window, each side street, just for a small glimpse of where Jack was.
Davey had started panicking when they had gone almost half an hour without a clue, taking off his hat to run his clammy fingers through his dark hair.
"I really dunno," Race sighed, kicking a stick on the road into the alleyway next to them, "he could be anywhere by now, Davey, I-"
There was a groan from the alleyway. Race and David froze.
"What was that....?" Davey half-heartily whispered as Race was already approaching the dark clump .
"Err.....Dave, you better come 'ere quick..."
Davey ran. Then, just as fast, he froze..
Davey found it hard to believe that Jack Kelly- one of the strongest leaders Dave knew, the hard muscled boy with an equally quick witted come back always ready, the boy who never flinched in the way of danger- was the same boy who curled and flinched as Dave put a trembling hand to his shoulder.
"Jack?" He didn't respond as Davey crouched beside him, next to Race, "Hey Jackie?"
"...Dave?"
The voice that whispered was hoarse and cold, nothing like the Jack Dave knew. His head lolled towards where Davey's voice came from. His fingers were crusted with old blood, his face was covered in darkening bruises and an angled nose was red and dried, but through the pain he was still able to reach towards his Dave.
"Hey Jack, it's gonna be okay, it'll be okay, just wait," Dave leaned down to wrap his finger around Jacks, whispering soft assurances. As soon as he had finished he whipped his head up to Race and hissed instructions.
"Racetrack we're getting Jack back to my house."
Race looked between them and opened his mouth to say something.
"Now."
Race, suddenly extremely scared of David, jumped up to push Jack up to sitting.
"Slowly!"
Race flinched.
Jack moaned in pain as he was forced up. Davey reached forward to caress gently at one of Jacks bigger bruises on his face, and held his head when Jack nuzzled into his soft, warm hand.
"It'll be okay..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After helping (well, more precisely, dragging) Jack back to Davey's apartment Race went back to Newsies Square to tell the others what happened. He could only gesture a quick goodbye through the fussing of David's mother.
"Is this the Jack Kelly you've been talking so much about? I can help- if you need. I....I can...Help clean the wounds- oh I'll go make something hot! How 'bout I-"
"I can do it, Ma," Davey interrupted his mother, smiling softly afterward. Jack was currently asleep on Davey's bed, words and movements too hard on his body at the moment. David's mother insisted on helping.
"I can handle it, Ma, I swear. I... actually, when I think about it, can you get me a cloth and some water?"
"Of course!"
That would occupy her for a bit.
Letting out a breath, Davey moved over to where Jack was laid, sleeping peacefully, and sat at his feet.
Dave's mother came in to give her son the rag and water, then, after Davey asked her to close the door on her way out, left hesitantly.
Then they were alone.
The resting boy grunted softly in his dream. Dampening the cloth, Davey pressed it against Jacks forehead.
It went on like that for quite some time, and even though it was lonely, Dave enjoyed watching Jack's chest gently rise and fall with each of his quiet breaths, no pain or stress currently weighing it down.
When it came to unbuttoning Jacks vest to reveal his bare chest to clean the wounds underneath, Davey did it hesitantly and slowly.
Jack would understand, wouldn't he? Yeah...yeah.
~
A sudden coldness and sticky pain was what woke him. Jack stirred slightly, peeling open his heavy eyelids to squint at the hazy silhouette of a beautiful boy.
He looked to the side and Jack made out the curve of a nose through the shining light which shone behind the boy he stared at.
An angel?
Jack blinked the sand out of his eyes and grunted gingerly, moving his arms under him to lift himself up.
Davey turned. "Oh! Hey Jackie, how ya feeling?" He whispered, the edges of his lips curling in both happiness and worry.
"Aye, er," he winced as he moved his ribs, "could be better, i think."
Davey didn't like seeing Jack in pain, so he made a practiced move to help him sit up and positioned the pillow so he could rest on it.
Jack looked down at his open shirt, took one glance at a blushed Davey, and said nothing about it.
"So..." Davey whispered, "What happened? Who did it, 'cuz I'll go soak 'em right now if I have to, I'll knock some bloody sense inter 'em, you don't mess with Jack Kelly and get away with it-"
"Nah, nah, Davey don't do that it's fine." Davey huffed out a breath. Jack smirked as he watched him wrestle his thoughts and eventually- and angrily might I add- brought the cloth back up to a wound on Jacks cheek that had already been cleaned.
The silence stretched out for longer than what was comfortable.
"It was the Delancey's..." Jack muttered after awhile.
Davey gritted his teeth.
"They's were just pickin' on me, that's all." Jack could tell Dave didn't bye it. He didn't meet his eye, but the pause in his cleaning told a tale.
"What did they say?" David hissed, finally bringing back his hand and looking Jack in his beautifully dark eyes. Jack looked away.
"Theys....nothin'.....it was nothin' Dave..."
"It was not nothing, Jack, don't lie to me, I found you lying in an alley, hardly bloody conscious!"
Jack blinked. He hadn't heard Davey this angry since the strike.
"I....Fine.....T.....Theys were callin' me slurs. Sayin' I should die for being.....for liking boys like I do...." Jack looked away again.
David froze. Then he started to move, eyes cold as he pushed off the bed. But Jack caught his arm- trying to hide his flinch at the sudden movement.
"Davey....David, don't. Yer won't do no good, ya just get yourself beat up too."
"Well if that's what it takes-"
"Davey. P....Please just stay 'ere."
Dave sat back down, somewhat sad and reluctant, and they sat in silence for a time.
"You's don't deserve to die, Jack. Don't let them get to you."
Looking up slowly, Jack smiled- the kind of smile he would normally hide, or the one he wore while blushing. Then, he reached towards Dave's hand.
"Thanks, Dave, ya really are a....pal."
Davey focused his gaze intently on the floorboards, lips frowned, opened, closed, blew out a laboured breath. Previously furrowed brows deepened further.
Chuckling hurt, but Jack thought it was worth it. Reaching up to rest his hand on Dave's jaw, he sat up slightly further. He turned the boys face toward him.
They looked at each other tenderly, taking in each feature and strand of hair they were both so in love with.
Then, Davey leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Jacks forehead, smiling against his skin.
He pulled back and Jack instantly grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a long needed hug.
#javid#angst with comfort#angst with a happy ending#javey#davey jacobs#jack x davey#newsies#newsies are hella gay prove me wrong#newsies fanfiction#Jack Kelly#the Delaneys#:))) this is fine
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Just something that’s been rolling around in my head. There’s a few curse words in this one. Just our Newsies being Newsies.
“We can’t just go out and build a snowman at two in the morning.” Finch raised an eyebrow looking at his boyfriend and best friends. The city had been blanketed with 18 inches of fresh snow the day before.
A boys night had turned into a sleepover but none of them had been able to settle down and actually sleep. So the discussion turned to building a snowman at two in the morning. “Why not?”
Finch heard Albert complain, giving him a look, raising an eyebrow. “Because you and Race, have the inability to keep your voices down so you don’t wake the neighbors. At least Spot and I can be quiet.”
“Hey I can keep my voice down.” Race raised an eyebrow, voice rising in protest.
Finch shook his head, grinning. “Way to go - you just proved my point. You can’t even keep your voice low within the house, in the courtyard it’s going to echo.”
“Hundred bucks each that we can keep our voices down.” Race grinned, looking over at Albert who quickly nodded his head in agreement.
Finch and Spot traded glances. “How will we know if you win?”
“Cops don’t get called and you don’t remind us to keep our voices down.” Albert spoke up, grinning.
Spot held a hand out to Race and Albert. “Deal - no cops called and Finch and I don’t have to remind you to keep your voices down and you each get $100.”
Finch quickly shook hands with the two before heading back to the bedroom to throw on appropriate snow attire. Ten minutes later, they reassembled and headed out to the apartment’s courtyard, pushing each other down the stairs with hushed whispers. Finch pushed open the door, holding it open for the other three to slip through before the door clicked with a gentle bang.
Before long, a large ball was starting to form as they rolled it to the middle of the courtyard. Albert and Race started forming a second snowball while Finch and Spot continued working on the base.
Albert stood up and put his hands on his hips, looking over at his boyfriend and Spot. “Ya ready for the next snowball?”
“Way to go dumbass - you owe us $100.” Finch stopped, looking over his shoulder at Albert with a grin.
Spot chuckled softly, patting the base of the snowball. “We should’ve bet how long it would’ve taken them to lose the $100.”
“I probably would’ve said 10 minutes, not five.” Finch chuckled, looking over at Albert and Race who stopped and were whispering to one another.
Slowly, the two dropped the snow in their hands, walking slowly over to where Finch and Spot were. Without warning, Race let out a battle cry before pushing Finch into the snow with Race soon following pushing Spot into the snow. A snowball fight broke out as the four cried happily and rolled around in the snow, trying to avoid snow in their faces.
Before long, they could hear the distant wails of sirens as they all jumped up. Without another word, they all headed back into the apartment, closing the main door behind them as they ran up the stairs to the apartment. Once the door was safely shut behind them, Finch leaned against the door, heaving heavily grinning as he looked at Albert, Spot, and Race.
“So are we wiping the slate clean?” Race pipped up, catching his breath with a smirk.
Finch shook his head. “No you two lost fair and square, twice. Albert can’t keep quiet and the cops were called.”
“Ya lost, suck it up buttercup.” Spot spoke up, giving Race and Albert looks. “Now I think it’s time for bed and leave the stupidity for another night.”
Race and Albert looked at one another, each grinning at the other. “Nah, movie time.”
Finch chuffed. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
Spot followed him, pausing in the doorway of the hallway. “Keep it down, you two.”
“You won’t hear a peep outta us!” Albert raised a three fingers salute as Race quickly nodded.
Spot bidded them good night before slipping into the guest room as the door clicked shut. Finch finished getting ready for bed before slipping between the cool sheets. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard something. “Damn you Albie.”
Sighing, he rolled over to his side and closed his eyes. He loved his boyfriend and best friends deeply, he thought as he slipped off to slumberland.
What do you think? Feedback would be wonderful!
#newsies#newsies fan fiction#writing#newsies drabbles#drabble prompt#RedFinch#sprace#snow#winter#albert dasliva#finch cortez#spot conlon#racetrack higgins
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catch up
platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)
it’s been eight months since the breakup. they have a lot to catch up on.
~6k words, M (18+ only)
songs mentioned are gorgeous | no more sad songs | touch (acoustic)
he’d been wondering who would get around to dropping their album first. from the looks of the current trending topics on twitter, cadence had won. it looked like she’d even chosen to jack his style -- dropping her album in full with no announcement, no promotion, no warning... nothing.
color him impressed.
no more sad songs was number one on trending. just below it was the word touch. related topics: cadence dorian, raleigh carrera.
he told himself it was just his own narcissism that made him click. that, and morbid curiosity. it’d been so long since he’d last tortured himself, after all.
a long list of tweets stared innocently back at him. GOD touch is the sexiest song anyone has EVER WRITTEN I’M SCREAMING, said the first one. make it a single queen!!!! you deserve the hottie they will cast for that music video and more!!!!!
he scrolled down. sooooooooo are we going to talk about how touch is obviously about raleigh carrera giving that good dick or nah
his eyebrows shot up. well, now he had to listen to it.
he pulled up spotify; of course she was on the home page. with just a few taps, the song started to play. an impressive piano melody filled the room. she must have beep practicing. as her voice filtered in, he turned up the volume.
cadence sounded... soft and sad, and, the masses on twitter were right: sexy. god did her breathless, yearning voice sound sexy. despite himself, he could actually feel his face flush as he listened to the words. so won't you take it, i feel like for the first time i am not faking... fingers on my buttons and now you're playing. master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself.
it took everything in him not to be consumed by the memories that were threatening, but the last thing he needed was to fall down that rabbit hole. he’d gone so long without thinking about her, after all. it was almost up to a full two days at this point, before something would inevitably remind him of her and he would spiral again.
the rest of her album stared back at him from his laptop screen. he studied the cover art as her voice filled the empty room. it was a photo of cadence, of course, a wide full-body shot against a brick wall. she looked powerful, in the sharp black outfit she was wearing, her skirt just short enough to make her legs look a few hundred miles long.
inhaling sharply, raleigh forcibly redirected his gaze to the track list, scanning the rest of the titles. his lips curved up into a smirk as he read them off, one by one. motorcycle boy. hollywood. tattoos and bad news. subtlety was never her strong point.
then again, he mused, as he considered his own journal and the songs inside it -- kaleidoscope dress. ferris wheel. lady liberty. sex at the moda. -- he really wasn’t one to talk. not that his label would ever let him get away with that last one. it was just a working title, anyway.
he navigated back to twitter and tapped the moment about her album, no more sad songs. the first tweet he saw said omgggg i love the energy of cadence building raleigh up in ‘gorgeous’ and then tearing him down in ‘shout out to my ex’ so much kdhfgksjfhdg HER MIND this album is everything
it looked like he had some listening to do. but first...
he strolled over to the far wall of his bedroom and pulled off his shirt, sidling up to the floor length mirror by the window to take a selfie. his free hand pushed his hair back from his face, and he stuck his tongue out at his reflection as he snapped the picture.
it was just trolling, he told himself as he uploaded the photo to his pictagram, already laughing at his own joke while he typed out the caption. it wasn’t like he was trying to get anyone’s attention -- he just couldn’t resist giving the fans and the internet something to talk about.
raleigh smirked at his phone as the photo finished uploading and stared back at him from his feed. photograph with no t-shirt on. well, there was no taking it back now. if cadence was allowed to write about him, he was allowed to enjoy it, right?
five minutes later, his phone rang. it was avery. he took care to pause cadence���s album before he picked up the phone. “helloooooooo?”
“you know you broke the internet, right?” she asked, aprops of a greeting.
a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“you’re such a dick,” she laughed, “you just couldn’t let her have one day, could you? you could congratulate her, you know. she worked really hard on that thing.”
“um, i basically gave her a number one album,” he remarked, his bravado a mask as always. “without me she would’ve had, like, one track on that thing. or she wouldda had to write about you. so you’re welcome, too.”
raleigh pulled his phone away from his face to squint down at his pictagram notifications. stream no more sad songs!! said the last ten comments. omg shout out to my ex is right
“besides, i’m getting trolled. like, a lot. i doubt she cares what i post.”
“i wouldn’t be so sure about that,” avery remarked cryptically. before he had a chance to wonder what that meant, she said, “hey, she’s playing a surprise show tonight at webster hall before the album release party. you should stop by.”
“i think if she wanted me to come to her party she would’ve invited me.” it might’ve been nice to hear from her -- especially given the intimate details about their relationship he was now being forced to listen to, along with millions of other people.
you’re not being fair, he reminded himself, thinking again of sex at the moda. he hardly intended to give her a heads-up about that one. though he doubted she would care.
not that he cared. she could write about whatever she wanted. she could turn her life into art -- if that was what she wanted. she could tell... whoever, about what had happened between them. about what he’d made her feel.
she never told him, but, whatever. that was fine. that was her prerogative.
“earth to raleigh,” avery said on the line, snapping him out of his thoughts. “i said, she didn’t tell anyone about the party. the album was a secret, yeah? you should at least come to the show. i think your support would mean a lot to her.”
“well, i guess you’ll just have to support her enough for the both of us,” he said, meaner than he felt. raleigh shut his eyes, sighing as he rubbed at his forehead. “sorry. i’m not trying to be an asshole.”
“don’t sweat it.” avery always let him off the hook so easily, “i know it just comes naturally to you. seriously, the show starts at 7. think about it, okay? if you do decide to come, text me when you get there and i’ll let you in the back.”
he put the album back on as soon as they hung up. without a distraction, there was nothing to stop him from looking at cadence’s twitter account. she’d last posted just a few minutes ago:
surprise! i’ll be playing no more sad songs in its entirety tonight at webster hall’s marlin room. doors open at 6 for the first 600 in line. see you there? you never know who might drop by...
fuck it. he turned the volume up on her album and headed towards the shower. he’d avoided her for long enough, and tonight was as good a night for him to get over himself as any. maybe after this he could stop looking over his shoulder at every party he went to, terrified he’d have to see her.
that didn’t mean that it didn’t feel like a mistake, to get dressed and make his way to the village. it felt like a bad decision every step of the way, even as he ducked around the back of the venue at 7:05 to see avery’s smiling face, holding the backstage door wide open. it was too late to go home, now.
“took you long enough,” she grinned, squealing as she jumped into his arms. “i almost thought you weren’t going to show.”
“yeah, yeah. did she go on yet?”
avery led him inside, closing the door firmly behind them both. she nodded as they stepped up to the side of the stage. the screams from the crowd were deafening. “she just went out there. i think she’s about to start --”
raleigh heard the strum of a guitar and peeked around to see cadence standing center stage. “this is a really good looking crowd,” she said, grinning when the sound of the cheers rose exponentially. “thanks so much for coming out. are you guys cool if i play some tunes? yeah? okay, then. this first one is about a guy i used to date, it’s called ‘gorgeous.’”
he folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall behind them. he was shameless in the way he looked her up and down, staring as she strutted across the stage. he was proud of her -- she’d come a long way since the first time he saw her perform, so long ago. cadence had real stage presence, now -- she’d come into her own. she acted like a woman, sang like a woman, dressed like a woman. she was confident.
“whiskey on ice, sunset and vine. you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.” an elbow in his side made raleigh tear his eyes from her. he looked over at avery, rubbing at his ribs. “ow. what was that for?”
“you know everyone thinks this one is about you, right?” she asked, smirking.
“you make me so happy it turns back to sad, there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.”
“aren’t they all about me?” raleigh asked, still hiding behind his attitude. avery only rolled her eyes, and eventually the crowd’s screams drowned out anything else they might’ve wanted to say.
she played a few more songs before finally sitting down at the piano off to the side of the stage. now that she was closer, raleigh could see her better, and he stared as she brushed her hand across her forehead, pushing her hair off her face. she drank deeply from a water bottle and then set it on the piano’s ledge. raleigh was close enough to watch her swallow, but she still didn’t see him. it was probably the stage lights -- a single spotlight illuminated her at the piano as she adjusted the mic to pull it closer to her lips.
“we’re gonna slow it down for just one song,” cadence said, “i hope you don’t mind.” the cheers from the crowd proved that they didn’t. “i saw ya’ll talking about this one on twitter earlier.” he could see her grin perfectly from where he was standing; it was blinding. “i’m glad you like it. even if you don’t post thirst traps to it.”
the crowd went wild. even raleigh barked out a laugh; he hardly thought she had it in her. okay. point one, cadence.
“put your flashlights in the air for this one, okay? you and i and nobody else... feeling feelings i never felt...”
she was beautiful, of course -- always, every day, but never more than in this moment, with her eyes closed and her expression haunted, her hands moving along the piano keys. it probably said something dangerous about his ego that he found her the most stunning when she was singing about him.
as the last few notes died, he sighed, digging his fingernails into the fabric of his jacket over his arms where they were folded on his chest. suddenly, it felt like he shouldn’t be there. or maybe he was the only one who should be there. either way, he hardly wanted to think about it.
her moment of silent reflection as the song ended was gone in a flash. he watched her take a breath to steady herself, and then cadence was back in her stage persona, hopping off the piano bench to grab her guitar again. “thank you so much, new york city. you’ve been amazing. i’m so glad i could share this album with you -- it’s one of the most personal things i’ve ever written, and it means so much to me to play it for you all like this.”
“this is the last song i have for you tonight -- it’s the title track, no more sad songs. it’s the last song i wrote for the album. this song is about trying to get over someone you can’t help but think about by any means necessary. it’s about the point in a breakup where you’re tired of wallowing and you’ll do anything you can to make yourself feel better -- i like to think it’s about the acceptance stage of grief. anyway, it felt right to keep it last... to name the album after it. i’m finally at a place in my life where i can put this chapter behind me. and it took a lot to get there, and i’m so proud of that. so, with that being said...”
the crowd cheered as she strummed the first few notes. “thank you guys again so fucking much. sing along if you know the words already, okay?”
it was the second time that day he’d heard the song. it still made him feel the same way he’d felt when he first heard it -- angry and surprised and unsettled... and guilty. why hadn’t she ever told him she felt that way? why hadn’t she called him, and more importantly, why had he never called her, again?
his gaze hardened as she stopped at the front of the stage for the bridge. the same single spotlight illuminated her again.
“uh, why do you have that murdery look?” avery asked from beside him. he said nothing, watching the melody build around cadence as she approached the crowd.
“still got you on my mind, starting to realize... no matter what i do, i will only harm myself tryn’a hurt you, and if i turn the music loud just to drown you out --”
her head tipped back with the powerful crescendo. she looked like an angel under the spotlight, more beautiful than he even knew how to explain. his chest seized painfully.
abruptly, he turned around and headed back towards the backstage door. he knew he only had moments until the last song ended and cadence rushed backstage, and he needed to get out of there before that happened.
“raleigh!” avery called after him, but he didn’t stop, throwing open the back door and stepping out onto the sidewalk... immediately into a crowd of waiting fans and paparazzi.
a cacophony of screams started from the street. “ohmygod, it’s raleigh carrera!”
fuck. venue security glared at him as he shoved sunglasses on -- fuck the fact that it was nine o’clock at night -- and rushed off down the sidewalk. so much for getting in and out before cadence saw him. there’d be pictures of his exit all over social media in moments. paparazzi called after him as he rushed to the intersection, eyes scanning the street desperately for a working cab.
he stuck his hand out just as one with its lights on slid to a stop at the corner, jumping inside and slamming the door closed. camera flashes still shone behind his eyes even as he shoved the palms of his hands into them, drawing in a deep breath. sighing shakily, he met the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “88th and park. please.”
once he was alone in his apartment he felt like he wanted to put his fist through a wall. the urge to destroy something, anything was too strong -- because that was what he was supposed to do, wasn’t it? that’s what raleigh carrera would do.
she deserved so much better than him. the last thing she needed was to see him at her show and get sucked back into his bullshit. he paced around his living room, convincing himself he’d done the right thing. she’d moved on, after all -- she was happy, thriving. she didn’t need him around messing up her life. she’d practically said so herself.
his phone vibrated where he’d dumped it on the coffee table, sliding onto the carpeted floor. raleigh couldn’t think of anyone he wanted to talk to, but he bent down and picked it up anyway.
he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the caller id. cadence dorian. tongue out emoji. winking emoji. music note.
“hello?”
“oh, so your phone isn’t down a well somewhere. okay, just checking. good to know.”
she hung up.
he glared down at the phone in his hand. what the fuck? raleigh called her back before he even knew what he was doing.
“what?” she answered, though she sounded annoyed. like... really annoyed.
“what is your problem?” he demanded.
“my problem?” she laughed. he could barely hear her over the commotion on the other end of the line -- someone was calling her name repeatedly in a way that sounded urgent -- and then a door slammed, and there was quiet. “my problem, okay. i don’t have a problem. i’m not the one out here subtweeting and sneaking in and out of your show without calling, am i?”
“no, you’re just writing and releasing an entire sixteen-song album about me and all the ways i ruined your life without calling,” he snapped, his patience finally wearing thin enough to crumble. “don’t you think it might’ve been nice for you to give me a heads-up?”
“oh, please,” cadence scoffed, and he could feel that she was getting angry now, too. it felt good, in an awful sort of way. at least it was something. “i should have to clear it with you every time i write a song?”
“not a heads-up about the album,” he grit out, the fingers of his free hand flexing with the urge to throw something, “a heads-up about the way you fucking felt. you never say a goddamn word about any of that to me and i have to find out about it for the first time with -- everyone else? that’s really fucking special, cadence. that means a lot to me.”
there was silence on the other end of the line, giving him a moment to try to calm himself down. cadence was only ever quiet when she’d been surprised, meaning she wasn’t expecting him to say that. but she was certainly silent, then; if he couldn’t still hear her breathing raggedly, he might’ve assumed that she hung up on him again.
finally, she spoke, her voice small and unsure. “raleigh...”
but he wasn’t done fighting with her yet. “what’s the matter? you never thought that it might actually hurt my feelings? i guess that’s on me for giving a shit.”
“raleigh,” cadence said again, more insistently this time, “i didn’t know how to --”
“how to what, cadence? not break up with me? not ignore me for eight months afterwards? not pretend like it didn’t mean anything to you? it’s not that difficult.”
“well, obviously it was too difficult for you to do, too. you didn’t call me, either. so i’m supposed to believe -- what, exactly? that you missed me? that’s convincing, when you’re never out without a model on your arm.”
she sounded hurt. why did she sound hurt? she was the one who’d stomped on his heart, she was the one who’d wanted this.
“get over yourself,” he bit out, his hand curling into a fist at his side. he was never going to get his security deposit back after what he was about to do to his penthouse. “you knew i was in love with you and you didn’t care. which is fine. you don’t have to... just own it. stop acting like i did something to you.”
suddenly, the commotion on the other end of the line was back. “i have to go,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.
he hung up without saying goodbye, throwing his phone onto the couch. okay. that was fine. everything was fine.
except that he couldn’t possibly stand to be in his apartment for another moment -- not without doing something stupid.
he grabbed his keys and his phone and left, slamming the door behind him. his fingers drummed restlessly on his thighs as he rode the elevator down to the lobby. there were paparazzi waiting outside the front door of his building -- raleigh could see them through the glass as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. with a grimace, he headed for the back door.
there was already a car waiting for him. “let’s go to kismet,” he directed, rapidly firing off text messages to anyone he knew who might be available to distract him.
within minutes, he was inside the club at a vip table. there was a bottle of vodka sitting in a bucket of ice at the center of the booth, calling out to him. he lifted it straight to his lips, drinking as much as he could in one go without coughing. she’d always used to joke about his self-destructive tendencies. if only she could see him now.
“hey, raleigh.” belle tamblyn stood before him, smiling in the low light of the club. she must’ve just gotten back from paris fashion week. two of her friends had already sat down at the booth, talking among themselves.
he leaned back into the booth with a charming smile. “hey, belle. i knew you missed me.”
she laughed, taking his words as an invitation to sit down in his lap. he didn’t push her off, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders. she was taller and thinner than cadence in a way that wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but wasn’t exactly welcome, either. you’re never out without a model on your arm.
“so,” she started, looking down at him from up close, “what’ve you --”
he leaned up and kissed her, sliding a hand into her hair. her lips parted in surprise, sticky with lip gloss. raleigh bit her bottom lip and she sighed breathlessly, and that was -- good. that was almost... close enough.
his free hand slid over her backside, pulling her in closer. she was breathing hard when she pulled away, her face flushed.
raleigh laughed, pushing his fingertips under the hem of her dress. she reached down and swatted playfully at his chest.
“you’re an asshole,” she said primly, but she was rubbing her hand over the muscles in his chest. “do you want to get out of here?”
the last thing he wanted was to bring her back to his apartment, or to be there at all. “i don’t think i can wait that long,” he said charmingly, “bathroom?”
her nose scrunched up as she considered it, staring down at him. then, she said, “fine,” and slid up off his lap. he grinned, grabbing her hand and tugging her off toward the back of the club.
it was a single person bathroom, and blessedly empty when they arrived. no one paid them any attention as he pulled her inside and flipped the lock.
raleigh lifted her onto the sink and leaned in to kiss her again. she moaned as he pushed her legs apart and stepped between them, sliding his hands up her thighs.
this was fine. this was what he wanted.
so why couldn’t he force himself to do what he knew he was supposed to? his hands didn’t seem to want to move from where he’d anchored them on her legs, his lips kissing her methodically but not doing much else.
she wants to have sex with you! his brain screamed at him, she is a supermodel. a supermodel who wants to have sex with you.
impatiently, her hands slid to the waistband of his jeans. he didn’t stop her as she pulled the zipper down and slipped her hand under the waistband of his briefs.
it’s not a big deal. you’ve done this a million times. never after an argument like that with cadence, though... only when she was busy pretending he didn’t exist...
the bass of the music playing in the club vibrated through the closed door. the song sounded painfully familiar -- he strained to make out what it was...
of course it was a dance remix of ‘gorgeous.’ why wouldn’t it be?
panting, he pulled his mouth off of belle’s, tipping their foreheads together. “hey,” he started hoarsely, licking his lips as he glanced down towards where her hand was wrapped around him, “i’m sorry, but i don’t... have anything. i don’t think we should...”
have unprotected sex in a nightclub bathroom. her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she weighed her options. on any other night, that might have actually been flattering, but tonight...
pounding on the bathroom door made their minds up for them. he stepped back, adjusting himself in his jeans. “come on.”
he helped her down off the sink and opened the door, ready to lead her back out into the club. the line of people waiting to use the bathroom stared open-mouthed at them both as they walked off toward the booth. raleigh grinned at them as he walked past -- that was what he was supposed to do, right?
belle’s friends barely arched an eyebrow at her as they sat down again. immediately, he started pouring drinks and passing them out -- anything to be as drunk as possible before the song ended.
by the time he stumbled home, alone, it was late -- later than he’d wanted to be out. he used the front door -- not because he wanted any paparazzi to get photos of him going home alone or anything, but because he felt like it -- and waited until he was in the elevator to sigh frustratedly, decidedly not checking his phone. he knew there was no way she’d texted him.
cadence was sitting on the floor outside of his apartment door when he stepped out into the hallway.
he stared at her like she was a hallucination, lifting one hand to his eyes to rub at them. maybe he had more to drink than he’d thought. she looked up at him, still dressed in what she must’ve worn to her album release party.
he felt like he was going to throw up. god, that would be uncool.
“hi,” she said quietly, from the floor. wordlessly, he stepped closer to her and held out his hand. she took it, letting him pull her up. “can i talk to you?”
that wasn’t going to be easy, considering he had absolutely no idea what to say, but raleigh nodded, unlocking his front door and motioning for her to step inside.
he didn’t turn the lights on, letting the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminate the space. the lights from the city and the glow of the moon made cadence look almost ethereal as she slowly wandered over towards the far wall, hesitating for a moment before kicking her high-heeled shoes off. despite himself, his lips twitched up into a smile as he watched her.
“want a drink?” he asked, because he certainly did.
she nodded, and he moved to the bar cart to pour them both a half-full glass of vodka. he dropped an ice cube into his and poured orange juice over hers.
raleigh forced his feet to join her at the windows, silently holding her glass out to her. she took it with a mumble of thanks, lifting it to her lips. her eyes were trained on the view. what the fuck was she doing here?
the silence stretched between them. finally, he said, “congratulations on the album. it’s really good.”
that seemed to snap her out of it. she snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “you listened to it?”
he nodded. no point in lying about it, now. “i’m a narcissist,” he joked, “it’s what i do.”
she laughed. raleigh stuffed his free hand into his pocket so that he wouldn’t reach out for her. god, he’d missed her laugh.
he drained what was left in his glass in one go. “what’re you doing here?”
cadence was still staring out at the city. “i wanted to talk to you.”
“and yet, here you are. not talking.”
“i didn’t get that far when i planned this in my head,” she admitted, in an annoyingly endearing way. god damnit.
“how far did you get?”
she turned to look at him, then, leaning her shoulder against the window. “i thought maybe i would just kiss you when you got here and that would say everything i wanted to say. but then i chickened out.”
it felt like she’d just elbowed him in the stomach. “that doesn’t sound like you.”
“the kissing? i don’t know, i thought about it kind of a lot...”
he swallowed hard. “the chickening out.”
“oh.” she nodded, looking away. raleigh watched her stare down at the glass in her hands. “i guess i just felt like i already messed up so much. i didn’t want to... do the wrong thing again.”
raleigh couldn’t quite decide if he was too drunk for this conversation or not drunk enough. “how was your party?”
“it was fine. i think the last one i had -- for the odyssey -- was better.”
there was a night he didn’t want to relive. “look,” he sighed finally, turning back towards the windows and the city skyline, “i didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. if you’re only here because you think i’m upset... you don’t have to be. i’ll be fine.”
he could see her shifting out of his peripheral vision. she seemed to be considering what she wanted to say. finally, she spoke up. “that’s not why i’m here.” he turned towards her and watched as her shoulders squared. “i’m here because i missed you. a lot. and i wanted to apologize, for what happened between us... for shutting you out. for not telling you how i felt -- that i was in love with you, too. for letting you go.”
raleigh’s grip tightened on his glass so that he wouldn’t drop it on the floor. he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time.
cadence drew in a deep breath and continued, “getting over you was the hardest thing i ever had to do. and when i saw the pictures of you leaving the show tonight i realized... i failed miserably at it. i can’t get over you. i couldn’t. i won’t.”
he had to be imagining this, right? he was drunk and asleep in his limo, he had to be. he was dreaming.
but she felt very, very real when she reached out and twined her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.
“please say something,” she begged. she was undeniable.
“cadence...” he sighed, “you know how i feel.”
she nodded, once. “i do, but i want to hear you say it.”
“i want you to be my fucking girlfriend,” he admitted immediately, his voice hoarse. now that he’d given in, his free hand reached out and cupped her cheek. “for real. all the time. in front of everyone. i want you to move in, i never want us to go another day without talking. i don’t want anyone else to touch you. ever again.”
her lips parted. he couldn’t stop his thumb from pressing into her invitingly full bottom lip, watching in fascination as her eyelids fluttered. “raleigh,” she breathed, beautifully enough to do his head in.
he stepped forward swiftly, pressing her back against the windows, and kissed her. she moaned, scrambling to set her glass on the side table next to her. he knew her hands were free when they shoved into his hair.
fuck, if he hadn’t been wanting this for so long. his lips broke off of her to trail kisses across her jaw, down towards her neck. he couldn’t stop his fingers from tugging at her dress insistently. “do you want that?” he demanded. raleigh felt her nod against him. his teeth scraped across her pulse point. “say it.”
“raleigh!” she exclaimed. it was the most amazing sound in the world. his hips pushed forward insistently, grinding between her thighs. the force of it pushed her back into the windows. “i want it, i want you. i want all of it -- everything.”
the urgency to fuck her through the window was balancing precariously against his desire to do things right -- to give her what she deserved. with a huff, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, walking them both off towards his bedroom.
she laughed again as he dumped her on the mattress, hard enough to make her bounce. raleigh grinned back at her as he whipped his shirt off of his head, tossing it to the floor. she was scrambling up the mattress, and he chased her towards the headboard, kneeling on top of her when she finally laid back.
he crowded her in close for another kiss, his hands everywhere at once. she whined into his lips, kissing him so urgently, like they didn’t have all the time in the world, now. “i missed you,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders desperately.
“i missed you too, beautiful,” he returned, pushing her dress up her thighs, “now lie back and let me make you feel good.”
his head was spinning by the time they’d finished, and not because of the drinks he’d had. cadence was tucked up under his arm, her head pillowed on his chest. she was still catching her breath as she dragged her fingertips along the tattoo spanning the expanse of his ribs.
the sun was starting to come up outside, filtering light into his bedroom. he stared at her face, illuminated by the dawning daylight. “you know, if anyone here is gorgeous, it’s you.”
“oh my god,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his skin, “you’re never going to let this go, are you?”
he smirked up at the ceiling as he pulled her in closer. “would you say it makes you so mad?”
“i’m going home,” she threatened, pinching his side. he laughed, squirming away from her hand. “this is over. you ruined it.”
“well, what if i want to come along?”
“raleigh,” she groaned finally, kicking him under the covers, “stop it.”
he snickered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “what, you’re allowed to write about me, but i’m not allowed to enjoy it?”
“please,” she sighed, settling in against his chest again, “like you don’t write about me.”
“i never said that,” he hummed, already imagining the things her face would do when she finally got to listen to his album, if he ever finished it. “i’m really hoping the label doesn’t make me change the name of sex at the moda.”
“okay, you did not write a song called ‘sex at the moda.’ tell me you didn’t.”
“i’d hate to lie.”
she lifted her head to look at him, her face flushing. “will you play it for me?”
he eyed the guitar in the corner of his bedroom. like he could ever say no to her. still...
“maybe later,” he grinned, rolling over to pin her beneath him, the sheets tangling around their legs. “i can think of a better use of our time. we have a lot to catch up on.”
her arms wound around his neck. “tell me about it.”
#raleigh carrera#cadence dorian#raleigh carrera x mc#raleigh x mc#raleigh x cadence#platinum#choices platinum#myfic#i think of cadence's sound as like very pop-forward so that's where the song choices came from#also bc the little mix songs came on shuffle and made me think of them#i hope you guys like this !! i've had it in my drafts for literally 2 weeks debating whether or not i should post it lmao#i think it's kind of corny with the song choices but the second half of it picked up to me so idk#i want it out of my drafts for organizational purposes lol i hope some of you like it anyway !!
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Take the Shot
Pairing: Dean x Reader
You pulled your royal blue 1968 Chevy Nova into its parking spot in the bunker garage, then turned off the ignition. You walked around to the trunk and gathered up some of your grocery bags. You took the case of beer out of the trunk and set it on the garage floor. With your hands full, you kicked the bunker door, which was answered by Sam Winchester.
"Hey, you didn't have to get all this by yourself, I would've come out to help you," he remarked.
"Good thing you're here then, Sam, there's just a little more to bring in. You can carry the rest of the bags and the case of beer down the stairs if you want to help," you suggested.
"Consider it done, milady," he replied with a dramatic bow.
You rolled your eyes but grinned at his exaggerated response, then continued on to the kitchen to put away your groceries. By this time, Dean had wandered into the kitchen as well, reaching into the fridge for something cold to drink.
"Where's the pie? I don't see any pie. How could you forget the pie?!?" Dean asked incredulously.
"Relax, Dean. I'm making the pie from scratch. As soon as I get done putting groceries away, I'll start peeling the apples," you assured him.
"Aw, thank you, sweetheart," Dean replied as he beamed a smile at you brighter than the sun. He squeezed your shoulder as he left the kitchen. You ducked your head just in time for him to not see the blush creeping up on your cheeks.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dean was always doing things like that, calling you "sweetheart" or "honey", squeezing or rubbing your shoulder. You were certain he didn't mean anything by it, just a bit of harmless flirting. However, it was those little things that made your heart flutter and your cheeks grow warm. Dean didn't know it, but you had developed feelings for him. You tried to push them down, ignore them, talk yourself out of them, anything, but it was no use. You were falling in love with Dean Winchester.
You had first met the Winchesters on a vampire hunt assignment given to you by Bobby Singer. Bobby took you in when you were twelve and your parents were killed trying to take out a bunch of demons. He taught you about what each monster's weakness was and how to kill it, along with some basic self-defense and weapons tactics. Over time, your firearms skills grew to expert marksman level and you were downright lethal with a blade.
There were a few times that you had come close to confessing your feelings for the elder Winchester. Then you saw him with his arm around some woman from the bar, and that was enough to change your mind. You turned your attention back to your drink, and counted the minutes until you were home, back in your bedroom, alone with your thoughts.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You finished dicing the apples for the pie, added the sugar and the cinnamon then mixed the ingredients together. You set the bowl aside and moved on to prepare the crust. While you were folding and rolling the crust, your mind wandered back to Dean. You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn't notice Sam had walked in.
Sam cleared his throat, which startled you and made you jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Everything okay?" he chuckled.
"Yeah, Sam, why not?" you mumbled, returning your attention to assembling the pie.
"You just seem a little distracted, that's all," Sam observed.
"No, I'm not," you replied defensively.
"You didn't even hear me come in, as you would usually say, 'lumbering like a moose'," he teased. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Nothing, Sam. Nothing at all," you responded. "And you came in here for....what, exactly?" you prompted as you slid the pie onto the oven rack and set the timer.
"Oh, yeah, found us a case, around Ruthie's new hometown. Sounds like a simple salt-and-burn spirit kind of thing," he explained.
"Really? It's been months since I've seen her! Damn, I just put the pie in, and it won't be done for another hour or so. Can't let it burn," you replied.
"We can wait till it's done and then go. I'm sure Dean will approve, considering it's for a good reason," Sam added.
"Okay. I'll call Ruthie and get my bag packed. You can tell Dean about the change in the itinerary," I said as I left the kitchen.
Sam shook his head and chuckled. Dean walked in a short time after you left, so Sam told him about leaving a bit later than expected. He grumbled a little at first, then it was explained that the pie needed to finish baking first. As predicted, Dean changed his mind and was okay with the later departure time.
As you packed, you called your best friend, Ruthie, to let her know you would be up in her area, working a case. She was excited that you were going to be so close by and could visit, though she wasn't crazy about the reason you would be there. Before you hung up, she warned you to be careful and to watch out for yourself and the boys so that no one got hurt.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A few hours later, another successful hunt was in the books. You all sat around Ruthie's kitchen table with her husband, Jim, laughing and swapping stories. She had a surprising amount of dirt on you, and she certainly didn't mind sharing it one bit.
Dean looked around and got up from his chair. "Well, not that this hasn't been fun, but I've been wanting to check out your bar, Ruthie. Sam, you in?" He put his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn and lock onto his flashing green eyes. "How about you, sweetheart? Want to come with us?" he asked.
You briefly lost the ability to form a coherent thought, but quickly recovered. "N-nah, I think I'll stay here and catch up with Ruthie. We haven't seen each other in so long, I don't want to miss an opportunity," you finally got out.
Dean shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay, have fun you two. Don't wait up," he said waggling his eyebrows. Once he drove off in the Impala, you let out a frustrated groan.
"What was that all about?" she demanded. "Since when does he call you 'sweetheart' and make googly eyes at you? Are you two a 'thing' now?" she asked.
"There were no googly eyes, Ruthie. And no, we're not a 'thing' now, nor will we probably ever be one. It's just harmless flirting," you muttered.
"But, you wish he meant it, don't you?" she asked gently. You could only nod, as your voice would have betrayed the tears on your face.
"Then you have to tell him, honey. Otherwise, he'll never know and he'll keep doing the bar chick thing, slowly taking a piece of your heart each time," Ruthie finished.
"Ruthie, I've seen the type of woman he seems to prefer, and it's not me. Sure, it feels amazing when he calls me 'sweetheart' or when he touches my hand or my shoulder. But I know he doesn't mean anything by it. Let's face it, I'm not his type of woman. I'm good for going on hunts, doing the research and making pie. Friend, remember? Not the romance category," you choked on the last sentence.
"Do you really believe that?" Ruthie asked.
You nodded. "Yes, Ruthie, I do. However, I also believe that what we do is so important. So much, in fact, that I'm willing to continue pushing all of those feelings aside to focus on the mission. What if I told him how I feel and he didn't feel the same? I don't know how long I could stay in the bunker after that, seeing him every day after ruining a perfectly good friendship."
Suddenly Ruthie jumped to her feet. "Come on," she motioned for me to follow her.
"What? Where are we going?" you asked.
"We are going to get dressed up and we are going to walk into my bar, looking so amazingly HOT and sexy. Mr. Dean Winchester won't be able to keep his eyes--or anything else, for that matter--off your body, honey." she finished with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Hey, Jim? We're going into town to check on things at the bar, do you want to drive us there?" she called. He agreed, and you went with Ruthie to put yourselves together.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"That about does it, don't you think?" Ruthie said as we stepped back from the mirror.
"I think this more than does it. Sis, we look GOOOOOD," you said. Ruthie held up her hand for you to high-five her, but you missed, causing you both to start giggling.
You were wearing a new pair of slightly faded blue jeans with star-studded back pockets that you had brought with you. A white spaghetti-strap tank top and a cropped denim jacket about the same color as the jeans completed your outfit. Ruthie lent you her tan knee-high boots with a wedge heel. Your curly brown hair was fluffed out a bit more and you kept your makeup and jewelry choices simple.
Ruthie was similarly dressed, but in darker colors. Black jeans where you wore blue, a red tank top instead of white, and black boots. You looked at each other, linked arms and got into the car.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sam and Dean were sitting in a booth, each drinking their second beer of the night. "Hey, Sam? Do you think we should call the girls and ask them to come out?" Dean asked. Just then, a well-endowed blonde walked up to their table. She slid into the booth next to Dean, and looking straight at him, she asked, "Wanna dance?"
At that exact moment, you, Ruthie and Jim walked in, looking for Sam and Dean. When you saw the blonde sitting so close to Dean and practically kissing him, you froze. Ruthie's hand was at your elbow, propelling you forward. "Steady, you can do this. Just walk over to the table and tell them we're going to play some 8-ball. And that no, they can't play," she growled.
You gathered up your courage and walked over to their table. "Evening, boys," you drawled. "Ruthie and I are going to go play some 8-ball," you explained. As they started to get up, you held up your hand. "No, no, just us girls playing. Sorry boys," you said with a wink. You and Ruthie headed for the empty pool table, your heart pounding furiously in your chest.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Dean saw you and Ruthie walk in, he couldn't believe his eyes. He'd seen you in jeans and a tank top before, but these jeans hugged your curves like none he'd ever seen you wear before. You and Ruthie were dressed so alike, but the two of you couldn't have been more different. Ruthie wore dark, where you wore light, the yin and yang that perfectly explained your longtime friendship.
The blonde became bored at Dean's lack of attention and left the table in a huff. Dean watched as you and Ruthie played your game. He saw how happy and carefree you looked as you hung out with your best friend. It had been a long time since he'd seen you that way, and it brought a smile to his face.
Dean noticed how your eyes sparkled when you smiled and he thought about how he wouldn't mind seeing more of that. He wondered what you two were talking about between shots with your heads together. He desperately wanted to know what was just said that had made you throw your head back in laughter.
For one of your shots, you were leaned over the table rather low, trying to get lined up. Your studded back pockets were pointed in Dean's direction. His mouth ran dry as thoughts of a less than pure nature ran through his mind. He shook his head as if trying to clear it, catching Sam's attention. "Dude, you okay?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's head over there to watch the girls. I see two empty barstools, why don't you snag those while I get us another beer," Dean suggested.
By the time Sam and Dean came over, you and Ruthie were into your second drinks and fourth game of pool. You both had also ditched your jackets, having left them on the barstools now occupied by the boys. You had gathered a good-sized crowd to watch the two of you play. There was a group of college boys, a bachelorette party, and some other random people were there to cheer you on.
It was your turn, and you had a difficult choice to make. You could bank the #13 and keep playing, or shoot the #11 and have a potentially difficult next shot. Bank shots were not your strong suit, but you decided to give it a go. Unfortunately, one of the college boys was in your way and didn't look like he wanted to move. "Excuse me, I need to take this shot and you're in my way," you explained.
"Tell you what, sweetheart. You make this shot and I'll buy you a shot. Then you can sit on my lap and I'll tell you about the great night we're going to have together," he smirked.
Dean heard what the kid had said, and something in him snapped. He bolted out of his seat, but Sam held him back. "Hold on, I think she's got this," he said.
"Tell you what. How about you move and let me make this shot? That way, I don't crack my cue stick over your skull for making such a sexist comment. Does that sound all right to you?" you asked innocently, batting your eyelids.
He grumbled, "Yeah, whatever," but got off of his barstool anyway to give you a clear shot. You leaned down to line up your shot. As you drew the cue stick back, you felt a hand grab your backside. You whirled around to see him high-fiving his drinking companions. You heard snippets of comments like "seriously sweet ass" and "like to hit that".
You pointed the heavier end of your cue stick at the kid, who was still laughing with his friends. You took advantage of his distraction to swing the heavy end right into his soft belly. With an audible "Oof!" he said as he fell, his ass landing hard on the floor.
With your cue stick raised above him ready to swing it again, you glared at him. "Get up. You and your friends had better get out of here before any real trouble starts. Don't even think about coming back in here ever again, at least not until you have more respect for a lady," you finished.
His friends helped him up and they headed for the door. As he passed you, he muttered, "'Lady' my ass, more like a bitch."
That was enough for Dean. He broke free from Sam and as he passed by, you could feel the anger radiating from him. You tried to grab his arm and pull him back but you were too late.
Next thing anyone knew, there was a scuffle in the parking lot between Dean and the kid. Punches were flying left and right until Sam finally pulled Dean away. The college boy was carried off by his buddies and Ruthie yelled that they were banned from her bar for good.
You walked over to Dean to check for damage. He had a cut above his left eye, a bloody nose and his knuckles were a bit scraped up. "Come on, Dean. Let's get you back to the motel and clean you up," you sighed.
Sam drove the Impala back to the motel in silence, with you in the back seat. Sam went to their room and got the first aid kit, then you walked to your room a few doors down. "You have your own room?" Dean asked.
"I didn't want to impose on Ruthie, so we booked this before we hit the bar," you explained. "Plus, depending on how tonight went, I thought I might want my own space." Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged, handed him the first aid kit and motioned for Dean to follow you to your room.
Once inside, Dean sat down on the bed and took off his outer shirt. You removed your denim jacket again and turned on the lights to better assess his injuries. His nose had stopped bleeding, so you took a washcloth and dipped it in the warm water contained in the ice bucket. "Are you okay?" Dean asked as you cleaned up the dried blood around his nose.
Being this close to Dean was enough to cause flutters in your heart. Not exactly trusting your voice at first, you nodded. "I'm fine, Dean. No harm done," you finally added.
Next, you moved on to address the injury above his left eye. "What did you mean by 'depending on how tonight went' you might want your own space?" Dean asked.
"Hmm?" you mumbled absently.
Dean reached up and stilled your hands, forcing you to gaze into his impossibly perfect green eyes. "What did you mean when you said that, about wanting your own space?" he repeated.
You stopped what you were doing to gather your thoughts, because once you answered his question, there would be no going back. "What I meant was, depending on whether or not you came back to the motel alone," you answered.
"Why would that matter to you?" Dean asked.
"Never mind. Let's get that cut above your eye stitched up," you said as you started to thread the needle.
"No, forget that for now. I want to know why that would matter to you," Dean persisted.
"And I said never mind!" you retorted. "You know what? Take this to Sam and let him sew you up. Goodnight, Dean," you replied as you held the door open.
Dean walked to the door as if to leave. Just before he would've crossed the threshold, he turned to you and said, "No. Not until we finish talking about this." you slammed the door and groaned loudly in frustration as he went to sit on the bed.
You walked over and stood in front of Dean. "You want to know why any of this matters to me? Fine, I'll tell you. All of these women you hook up with? None of them will ever know you like I do, Dean. None of them will ever love you the way that I do. It hurts me to see you with them, because I wish you were with me. I realize that to you, I'm nothing special. However, I know how you like your coffee, that you like to sing in the shower, which color of flannel is your favorite."
You knelt down between his knees, resting a hand on his left one. "I also know how to bring you back around after you've had a nightmare. And how you're so used to protecting others that maybe you feel like you have to build walls to protect yourself. I know about how scared you are that one day, everyone you love will leave you.
"But here's the thing, Dean. I will never leave you. And I will wait as long as it takes for you to bring down your walls. To let me in so I can be that source of strength for you when you need it the most."
As soon as you finished your speech, Dean leapt up from the bed and gathered you in his arms. His hands slid up to hold your face and he began to devour you with a series of hot, passionate kisses. Your lips, your cheeks, your neck, all of it was fair game for Dean. Your fingers threaded their way through his hair, paying particular attention to the ones at the base of his neck. Dean growled in appreciation, then you felt him smile against your lips.
When you finally broke apart, you were both trying to catch your breath. "That was amazing," you whispered.
"So was everything you said, sweetheart. Except one part," Dean replied.
"What? Which part?" you asked.
"The part where you said you realize that to me you're 'nothing special'," he said as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. "I can't think of anything that would be farther from the truth. I watched as you and Ruthie were playing pool.
"Your eyes sparkle when you smile, and when you laugh, you do so with your whole heart. Tonight, I saw a side of you that made me realize how special you are to me and to everyone around you. But most importantly, I have become very aware of how much I love you," he finished.
"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you, Dean. Almost thought I never would. I love you too," you replied softly.
You moved forward until your lips met again in a slow, passion-filled kiss. Your mouths moved together, yours opening slightly for Dean's tongue to slip inside. His fingers started threading through your hair, massaging as he went. Dean gently tugged on your curly locks, which tilted your head back and exposed your neck. "So beautiful...." he murmured against your skin as he dropped feather-light kisses up and down your neck.
"Stay with me tonight? Please?" you asked. Dean nodded, and while he stripped down to his boxers, you went into the bathroom to change into your pj's. He got into bed and held the covers back enough for you to slide in next to him. You turned to face him and placed your hand on his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "I love you, you know," you said softly.
"I know. I love you too, sweetheart," Dean replied. He slipped his arm around you so that you could rest your head on his shoulder.
"Goodnight, my love," you whispered.
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Gallavich + "You want me to do /what/?” :)
i became overwhelmed with a need for mickey to be held so then this happened askjdf i hope you like it, bb
*
Ian getting up before Mickey isn’t exactly a rareoccurrence – if his alarm doesn’t wake him, his internal body clock alwaysdoes. You end up taking your meds at the same time every morning for about fouryears and that’ll happen. So it’s not all that unusual for him to leave asleeping Mickey in bed in the morning while Ian gets a head start on his day.
What isunusual is that Mickey still isn’t up by the time Ian’s sitting down forbreakfast.
Sure, Mickey isn’t really a morning person and hetends to take longer to drag himself out of bed than Ian does but he’s alwaysup by now. Especially on a morning that he has work.
Setting his half-eaten toast aside, Ian makes his wayback upstairs to their room. He frowns when he finds Mickey still curled up onhis side, seemingly fast asleep. Crouching down beside their bed, he cards hisfingers through Mickey’s hair. “Mick,” he calls softly. “Time to get up.”
Mickey makes an unintelligible noise but doesn’totherwise react except to lean into Ian’s touch a bit more.
“You’re gonna be late,” Ian tells him, struggling tokeep the fondness out of his voice as he rubs his thumb over Mickey’s eyebrow. Theheat of Mickey’s skin makes him pause and he presses the back of his hand toMickey’s forehead.
“Hey, Mick, wake up,” Ian coaxes again. “Are youfeeling alright? You’re really hot.”
Mickey groans, rolling onto his back. “Yeah, Ifucking know that, Gallagher. You tell me all the time.”
Ian rolls his eyes, pushing up to sit on the edge ofthe bed. “I mean you’re burning up. Are you sick?”
Mickey grumbles something Ian can’t hear before hehuffs. “I jus’ have a headache. I don’t get sick.”
Ian raises a sceptical eyebrow. “You sure? Because itkinda seems to me like you’re getting the start of a headcold. Y’know,” he addspointedly. “In my professional opinion.”
Mickey glares at him, bunching the covers up betweenhis fists like a five year old. “I’m fine.” As if to prove it he attempts tosit up only to grab Ian’s leg for balance a moment later when he moves tooquickly.
“Call work,” Ian says decisively. “Tell ‘em you’resick.”
“You want me to do what?” Mickey asks, voice flat.
“I want you to use one of your sick days as an actualfucking sick day for once,” Ian replies, gently urging Mickey to lie back down.He’ll take any excuse he can get not to go into work but when he’s actuallycoming down with something suddenly he’s fuckin’ employee of the month.
“Call them,” Ian repeats, grabbing Mickey’s phone offthe nightstand and shoving it into his hand. Mickey glares at him again butdoes as he’s told. As soon as he’s distracted with his phone Ian takes a betterlook at him and he really doesn’tlook too good. His throat sounds scratchy and it’s clearly not just from beingasleep, his cheeks are red and his forehead looks clammy.
Hesitating for only a second, Ian climbs off the bedand reaches for his own phone. He gets through to his boss on the second ring. “Hey,listen I’m sorry this is such short notice but I don’t think I’m gonna make itinto work today.”
He feels Mickey’s gaze snap to him and Ian holds up ahand to stop him from saying anything.
“Yeah,” Ian says down the line. “One of the kid’s issick-“ He gets a middle finger for that one. “-and I can’t send ‘em intonursery with it. I can try to make it in for the afternoononce someone else gets home.”
“No,” his boss sighs on the other end of the phone. “It’salright, take care of the kid. I’ll swap your shift and put you on Saturdayinstead. That sound good?”
“Thanks,” Ian answers gratefully. “I’ll see youtomorrow.”
As soon as he hangs up the phone he turns around tofind Mickey watching him with a petulant scowl, arms folded across his chest. “Thefuck you do that for?”
“They were more likely to let me take the day off if Isaid it was Franny,” Ian says, slipping off his uniform jacket and starting tounbutton his shirt. Now that he actually doesn’t have anywhere to be, sweats soundvery appealing.
“I mean, why’d you take the day off at all, shithead,”Mickey grouses and Ian reminds himself that Mickey’s sick and thereforeunderstandably grumpy so he resists the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up.
Sighing, Ian gets back on the bed, crawling overMickey until he’s covering him with his body, and reaches up to brush the hairback off his face. “You always takecare of me when I’m sick. Let me return the favour.”
Mickey seems to deflate at his words, his gazesoftening into something quiet. “Guess it wouldn’t be so bad if you stuckaround for the day.”
Ian gives him a wide smile, shifting forward to kisshis forehead. “You want anything? Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” Mickey says finally, looking extremelyunsettled at the idea of being taken care of. And that just breaks Ian’s hearta little. Sure, they look out for each other and take care of each other allthe time in the general sense but it’s rare that Mickey’s the vulnerable one – orallowing himself to be the vulnerableone. It just makes Ian’s resolve firmer that he’s gonna do whatever Mickeyneeds today, no questions asked.
*
It turns out, what Mickey needs today is just someoneto lie with him.
After Ian’s made him breakfast and given him some Advilfor the pain in his head Mickey quietly admits that his joints are aching a bitso Ian manoeuvres them around until he’s sitting up against the wall withMickey lying between his legs, his back against Ian’s chest.
Ian rubs at his shoulders at first, pressing a kissto the side of Mickey’s head when he feels the tension start to leak out ofMickey’s body. Soon enough though, he just ends up smoothing his hands downMickey’s chest and hugging him close.
“You need anything?” he asks, words mumbled into theskin at Mickey’s temple.
Mickey shakes his head absently, one of his handsreaching up to hold Ian’s wrist in place. “Nah, this is good,” he mutterstiredly.
Ian kisses his head again and tightens his hold,drawing patterns on Mickey’s sides over his t-shirt until Mickey’s breathing startsto even out. And even though Ian wishes Mickey wasn’t sick he can’t say this isexactly a bad way to spend his day. He remembers when they were younger, whenhe would’ve given anything for Mickey to let him hold him like this. Even whenthey made that tentative jump from fuck buddies to something slightly more theonly way they’d ever end up spooning had been when they’d gravitated towardseach other during sleep.
By the time they actually got to the point where theywere holding each other for comfort Ian had been so fucking depressed he couldn’teven get out of bed; it was so bad he could hardly even feel Mickey’s armsaround him sometimes. Now, Ian hoards moments like this. Even though he knowshe doesn’t have to, even though he can hold Mickey whenever he wants.
He just- it’s important to him to try and make it upto Mickey for all the shit he had to carry Ian through. It’s important to himthat Mickey knows Ian would do the same for him in a heartbeat.
He’s not sure how long they lie like that but Mickeywakes up eventually, snuffling and sounding a little bit more blocked up thanbefore. He twists then, turning to curl into Ian more, cheek pillowed on Ian’schest as he brings his arms around him.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Ian murmurs, carrying on thesoothing strokes up and down Mickey’s back from before. “Feelin’ any better?”
“Think I just gotta ride it out,” Mickey replies andIan winces at how hoarse his voice sounds.
“Want me to get you a cough drop?” he asks, alreadymaking to get up before Mickey’s hands latch onto him to hold him in place.
“No just- Just don’t get up,” Mickey requests,burying himself deeper against Ian’s chest. “’m okay.”
Ian stills, heart squeezing in his chest as he drawsthe covers up over them both. “Okay,” he whispers. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Mickey nods against him, mumbling out a quiet, “Thanks,”a moment later.
Just as Ian think he’s falling back to sleep againMickey says, “You know you should consider changing careers from an EMT to anurse with this kind of bedside manner.”
Ian barks out a laugh, squeezing lightly at the napeof Mickey’s neck. “That your way of askin’ me to give you a sponge bath?”
“Maybe,” Mickey hedges and Ian grins when he can feelMickey’s mouth curve up against the fabric of his t-shirt.
“Whatever you want, tough guy,” Ian smirks. “Soon asyou can get to the bathroom without keeling over.”
Mickey huffs but makes no actual attempt to get up. “What’sthe point of you bein’ my nurse if you’re not gonna carry me?”
“You need to stop getting all your information aboutnursing from porn and spend some actual time in an emergency room.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Mickey snorts before hegoes quiet again. After a beat one of his hands snakes out to catch Ian’s andhe laces their fingers together. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“S’okay,” Ian murmurs. “I mean, you’re the hottestpatient I’ve ever had so…”
Mickey huffs a laugh, lifting his head to give Ian alook. “Dick.”
Ian smiles at him, free hand curving around Mickey’sjaw. “Love you.”
“You too,” Mickey replies, voice hardly above awhisper as drops his head onto Ian’s chest once again.
They stay like that for the majority of the rest ofthe day until Ian gets up to make Mickey some more food. And Mickey does end up getting his bath.
Ian can think of worse things to do with his day.
*
#gallavich#ian x mickey#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#shameless#thisfeebleheart#my fics#meme thing#asks
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hinata + 26
haikyuu requests currently: closed
although, if you have a hinata-request. send it in bc. chances are i’ll write it because i am #biased
26. the length of daylighthinata ; 2,651 words
a/n: i know i never post authors notes usually, but wow uh – i really liked writing this? and i think this might be one of the best things I’ve written on this blog to date. idk man. i just. really really liked this. u__u pls give hinata some love he deserves the world.
five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes – you hadn’t seen him in so long. it’d been three years – three times five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes – that’s way too many minutes, and yet here he is, standing on your doorstep with a smile that you’d be crazy not to remember.
you stare at him, and wonder where to even begin – he’s taller, that’s for sure, and tanner, so much tanner – well obviously, brazil is a sunny place.
“hey.”
you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. instead, you just stand and gape at him like he’d somehow stolen your voice from your chest (like ursula the sea-witch, and you don’t know how, after so long, he still seems to hold this kind of magic over you – can you call it a curse if you’ve missed it? the way it shifts the very fabric of your reality until you’re living in his).
he scuffs his feet against the welcome mat and you can breathe again; he glances down at his shoes, scratching at the back of his head.
“you’re… taller.”
he laughs. the self-same open, melodious, uproarious thing you remember from three years before; he still laughs with his entire body, lets it shake him from core to shoulders, his eyes squinting shut. when he calms down enough to look back at you, there’s a pleased flush high in his cheeks.
“yeah, guess so.”
when you step aside to let him in, he grins wide enough to split his face, leaping over the half-step into your apartment, immediately crowding into your space till you’re pressed almost chest to chest.
“oh-ho~!” he holds a hand up from the top of his head and moves it slowly over yours, “you’re right! i did get taller! maybe i even grew a little since i got back!”
you lick your lips and try to swallow your heart back down your throat from where it’s beating against your voicebox. close, close, way too close.
he smells nice, you realize – no, remember. but it’s different than before. he no longer smells of citrus shampoo and the slight dampness of sweat; now he smells vaguely of salt and suntan lotion. you allow yourself a grin as you look up, your eyes searching his face for the traces of him you still remember, are trying to hold onto. they’re still there – the light his eyes, the ease of his smile.
freckles… that wasn’t there before.
you stand there for a moment, chests almost pressed in your doorway, him now tall enough to tower (just a bit) over you, before he realizes and jumps back, almost stumbling over his own feet as his back meets the opposite wall, stuttering out something like an apology.
at least that hasn’t changed.
“s-sorry! i didn’t mean to – i mean – was that too close – it totally was – i just got so excited to see you again – it was like – mmm – that woooshhh feeling in my chest like – you know? i won’t do it again! i mean – not unless you want me to –”
“shouyou.”
he cuts clean off at the sound of his name on your lips. it’s different too, than what he remembers. he swallows, unsure of what’ll happen next. but you smile, leaning towards him (he notices that your hair is longer, way longer than when he left – right, three years is a really long time – he likes it longer; he wonders if it still smells just as nice as it did before; it probably does) with a spark in your eyes and he knows he’s gone.
three years across the world, and you’d think it would’ve stamped out this childish crush of his, one that he has no idea you harbored for him as well (your friends all wonder when on earth the pair of you will realize). it hasn’t. if anything, distance really does make the heart grow fonder, and shit – you’re saying something and all he can focus on is the way your lips still look way too soft – and is that lipgloss you’re wearing? you didn’t used to do that before.
“… not listening, are you?”
“huh? ah – i – uh – no… sorry i zoned out –”
he flashes you a sheepish grin, scratching at the back of his head as he pushes himself back up from where he’d fallen against the wall. you huff and flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder.
“i asked if you wanted coffee or anything. i was about to make some anyway.”
“sure! yeah! i love coffee – that sounds – that sounds great!”
he follows you into the living room, looking around at all the things that had changed, but noticing all the things that stayed the same. you still had your graduation picture hung up, right next to the picture of the team. you had short hair then – he liked short hair on you too. hell, he figures, letting his eyes wander across the walls of your living room, he’d probably still like you bald. the thought almost makes him laugh; he shakes his head. nah, he likes you better with hair for sure.
“milk? sugar?”
“hm? yeah – uh – whatever you think is good.”
you quirk an eyebrow and he realizes belatedly that he must’ve said something wrong.
“uh… milk… and sugar, both – please!” he grins, settling into a chair at the table, “thank you!”
so you make coffee, he tells you about brazil, about the stretches of beaches that never seem to end, about the skies so blue it hurts to look too hard, about the way there’s always something that smells delicious in the air, always chatter and music in the streets. you tell him about how you’ve been, how college is great because you could finally drop math classes, but how it’s also kind of a nightmare because morning lectures are the freaking worst.
you tell him about the upperclassman who really liked you, and kept on asking you out till he graduated.
“i never said yes, though,” you say, nursing your cooling coffee mug.
hinata quirks his head, “why not? wasn’t he –” he waves a hand through the air, before saying rather dumbly, “nice?”
you smile, “yeah, he was nice. but… he wasn’t really my type.”
hinata licks his lips, “you… have a type now?”
you roll your eyes, “i’ve always had a type.” and you don’t have to look up to hear the pout in his voice.
“i never knew about it.”
you toss a bit of crumpled napkin at him across the table, “you never asked.”
“oh.” and then after a second, “so… what is your type?”
you hum, tapping your lips in mock contemplation. a single glance tells you that he’s watching you, and the realization shouldn’t make your stomach twist the way it does, but – it does. he’s watching you with those eyes of his, almost completely devoid of light, like tiny black holes, depthless, with enough gravity to swallow the entire world whole – to swallow you whole.
“someone tall,” he visibly deflates, “but not too tall,” you continue, and he brightens up again, almost immediately. you grin, leaning back in your chair, your eyes flickering over him, “someone who’s really good at one thing –” you cast about, “like an instrument,” he crinkles his nose to disguise a huff, “or a sport,” he grins to himself, nodding as if checking off mental boxes, you wonder how long you can drag this out for before he realizes you’re not talking so much about a type of person so much as one single person.
“they should be really driven, and passionate about what they do, y’know?” you watch as he nods enthusiastically, hanging onto your every word. you grin.
“and… hm, i like guys who speak more than one language. that’s a nice skill.”
“yeah! uh-huh!”
“and… hm… someone who’s good at making friends, that’s important too.”
you watch as hintata considers this, mumbling to himself – i guess i’m not bad at that – i make friends alright – yeah.
you prop your chin on the heel of your hand.
“someone who plays volleyball,” you say, wondering if it’s about time to start giving proper hints.
“uwah! yeah! cause i mean – you like volleyball, so it’d be nice, right?”
you laugh, nodding along, “yeah – and y’know, and i kinda have a thing for gingers.”
“yeah, yeah! it’s a nice hair colo –” he stops dead in his tracks as realization dawns over his face and his pleased smile morphs into an expression of sheer disbelief.
you heave a loud sigh, pushing yourself up from the table, “yeah, if only a guy like that existed.”
hintata opens his mouth, shooting to his feet, but even as he opens his mouth to say i do! i’m right here! another realization blooms in his chest.
i’ve always had a type.
oh. oh.
he blinks at you from across the table, his own prolonged ignorance finally cracking over his shoulders – all those years – all of highschool. all these years too.
“shit.”
he collapses back into the chair, a helpless laugh on his lips as he cards a hand through his hair, mussing it up as he stares into the dregs of his now-cold coffee.
“did you want another cup?” you ask casually from the sink, where you're rinsing out your own mug. once upon a time, you might’ve been angry, or upset, or any manner of things. but you’d realized somewhere along the way that loving hinata shouyou was never going to be a linear thing. and maybe it’ll take him a while to realize, but being best friends with him has taught you more than anything all the ways he says i love you – and it was a bit easier after that.
“i – crap,” he chews on his lips, fumbling for words to say.
you smile, “bathrooms down the hall to the right still. that hasn’t changed.”
you turn just in time to see him flush to the roots of his hair, “that’s not what i meant.”
“then…?” you lean back against the counter, watching as he struggles with his own tangle of emotions till he looks up again, his face a mask of determination.
“go out with me.”
you raise your eyebrows, a small smile playing at your lips, “sure, to where?”
hinata groans, shaking his head, “i mean like – not outside – out like – like –” his cheeks are almost red enough to match his hair, “like – out!”
you laugh, your entire body shaking with the sound, and it’s this more than anything that seems to ground hinata enough for him to stop stuttering.
“properly – i mean. be – be my girlfriend.”
you nod, biting down the swell of elation cresting in your chest, “okay.”
“oh – okay?” he blinks.
“yeah,” you say, “okay.”
“oh – okay! yay! ah – this is great! waaaahhhh!” he leaps out of the chair, both hands raised over his head. it takes him all of three seconds to bound across the living room to the sink, both his hands raised as if asking for a high-ten. you laugh, raising your own hands.
how entirely hinata-like – to high-five someone after asking them out.
he claps his hands against yours, laughing, but his laughter fades as you don’t pull away, instead slipping your fingers between his. his eyes widen at the sensation of your pressed palms, and he almost hiccups at how his entire body shivers.
and suddenly, he’s tugging you towards him, as if on raw instinct, as if all he wants is to be closer, just a bit closer, and you find yourself stumbling into his chest, gasping but never doubting that he’d catch you. so he does, his hands finding purchase around your waist, your hands against his chest – so solid from years and years of relentless workouts and practice.
“uh – uhm – i uh –” he swallows, glancing from your eyes to your mouth, his mind seemingly short-circuiting somewhere between the two.
“shouyou,” you say, leaning up onto your tip-toes (you remember when the pair of you used to be only two inches apart).
he nods once.
“kiss me.”
he nods again, before leaning in, and the first kiss a little strange – the both of you still not quite sure of where your own lips are supposed to go, what the whole situation with the teeth is supposed to be like (credit where credit is due, both of you have watched enough romance – and the occasional porno – to know how it’s supposed to look but given everything that’s happened, practical application is still a bit rusty). the second kiss is better, and you can feel hinata’s confidence surge when he presses in closer, tilting his head to slot your lips better, the friction between you making you gasp.
the third kiss, he’s already caught onto the rhythm.
the fourth, you wonder if it’s quite fair for someone to be such a fast learner, your fingers fisting in the front of his shirt, all awkward, fumbling newness gone from his movements as he pushes you back against the counter, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumb running along your jaw to tilt your head the way he likes.
the fifth, you stop counting. you don’t have the capacity to anymore.
after what feels like an eternity of kissing (and who knows, it might’ve been – maybe outside, years have already passed by, or maybe it was just a few, breath-stealing seconds), he pulls back, the both of you panting, eyes a little glazed over, lips slick and kiss-swollen.
he grins, a wide, satisfied kind of thing, and you can almost imagine him purring in his chest.
“hey.”
you laugh, quirking your head as you watch him preen under this new truth – the two of you being together – finally, finally.
“you really have gotten taller.”
you push up to give him another peck. he whines in the back of his throat, leaning down to try and follow your lips but you twist your head so his mouth lands somewhere on your cheek, and he decides that that’s alright too. he gives you a loud, smacking kiss, grinning into your skin.
you glance at the clock.
“well. now that we’re going out-out. properly,” you tease, “do you wanna order in takeout for dinner?”
hinata laughs, the sound perfect and warm, rumbling through his chest, resonating into yours.
“yeah – you know i worked as a delivery boy in brazil?”
you nod, “yeah, i remember – you texted me pictures of your bike, remember?”
“oh! oh yeah,” he grins cheekily as you try to wriggle out of his grasp to reach your phone. he holds on tighter. you sigh, reaching into his back pocket for his phone and swiping it open only to find a picture of yourself smiling back at you from his lockscreen.
“hey!”
he tries to grab the phone from you, but you duck out of his grasp.
“i’m just trying to seamless!” you laugh, dancing out of his reach as he tries half-heartedly to retrieve his phone. when finally, the both of you are laughing and collapsed on the couch, he hooks his chin over your shoulder.
“next time, i’ll take you on a real date.”
you smile, “sure. we can go to one of those fancy restaurants.”
“uh-huh,” he nods, determined to meet your expectations.
“and we can order all the most expensive things on the menu,” you tease, grinning wide.
hinata sucks in a breath and you can almost feel him steeling himself not to deny you.
“yeah – that’s fine – well, maybe we should look up the menu first, so we can see what we like.”
you nod, “sounds like a plan.”
“it’s a date.”
you smile, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder.
“yep, it sure will be.”
#hinata shouyou#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios#hinata x reader#hinata#ya'll highkey i think this is the ffavorite thing ive written on this entire blog to date.#no lie#wow.#WOW HELLO usually i am quite okay with just posting and i dont mind too much if people read or dont read but uhm#PLEASE READ THIS??? IDK I JUST REALLY LIKED IT OKAY#PROBABLY BC I ADORE HINATA#he is MY FAV like i have favs but he is my FAV FAV.#haiCUTIES
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By The Lake*Part Three
Summary: A family friend offers you a place to stay to get away from an abusive past. Her home is a place that you are familiar with, an old town with a large lake you spent many days in. You went there years ago for one full summer, where you became close friends with a very young Daryl Dixon. You two were inseparable until you had to leave. But now you’re back, escaping from a past much like his. You will need to weave your way through the town's problematic people, your own problems, and above all the confusing Dixon. Will you two find your way back to each other again? Or will he push you further away? And above all, will your past cease to haunt you?
Part one * Part Two * Part Four * Part Five
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence(potential triggers), cussing, more mature themes(not smut or anything tho), slow burn romance
Authors Note: Daryl Dixon is a character from the amazing show The Walking Dead, but this story is modern AU so not with all the walkers and everything. I don’t own and I didn’t create his character. Also this story is in no means meant to romanticize abuse, that stuff isn’t romantic. It is such a terrible, terrible thing, but it is sadly a very common thing as well. Throughout this series I only hope that I can spread awareness about the matter, and let people know that they aren’t alone, things will get better, and that no one is deserving of any kind of abuse. Ever. Anyways, I’m done with my rant, I hope y’all like it, and if not please send in some constructive criticisms I’m always looking to improve.
Word Count: 1.7k
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I woke up to the kids screaming, at the cabin door for me to come out. I quickly put on a bra and open the door in my pajamas. Cherry was standing there in a pantsuit with Monty and Rosie by her side.
“Jesus (Y/N), it’s nearly 10.” She shakes her head at me and pushes the kids inside the cabin.
“What! That early.” I joke, but she only humored me with a sarcastic open-mouthed laugh. I run a hand through my messy hair and apologize.
“I’ll make a point to wake up early. But y’all weren’t exactly detailed on the job description.” I point to the kids. She kisses the kids goodbye on the head and stands up to face me again.
“Well my job description implies that I should have left 10 minutes ago. And no, it is not you’re fault.” She glares at her kids and then glances over her shoulder.
“Mark didn’t help me at all this morning. Daryl came over earlier than usual, something bout having less time than he thought. Whatever, my point it that the kids are your problem now.” She smiles at me then bolts out the door before Monty or Rosie can chase after her. I watch her car leave with a sense of dread and excitement. How in the heck am I supposed to keep these guys from dying of boredom?
I stare at the two of them, Rosie is sitting on my bed, and and looking out the window right into the lake...The lake! Cherry said how Rosie loves to swim, and I’m sure Monty wouldn’t mind spending this hot day in the water. Even Mark said a day in the lake would keep them happy.
“Would you guys like to play in the lake today?” Rosie jumps off the bed and screeches a yes, while Monty looks at me with puppy eyes and nods his head a million times. I match my excitement to theirs and usher them outside. I get dressed into my bathing suit, while they sit on the porch waiting. I don’t bother with a shirt after my bathing suit is on, I just put on some shorts and sandals.
As soon as I walk outside Monty and Rosie hop off the chairs and wait for me to lock the door. When I’m done they grab both of my hands and drag me to their house. We nearly tripped five times getting there, but finally the house came into view. Sounds are coming from the open garage not too far away. Some tool was going off and when it stopped a voice filled it’s place. Daryl’s voice. My heart dropped, he sounds a bit different but I could tell his voice from a mile away. I shake my head from any thoughts of him and walk us all forwards. The front door was unlocked so we went inside.
“Alright you two, I want you to go put on your suits and sunblock. Grab anything else you want, and I’ll make us a picnic. You guys like that plan?” Rosie and Monty looked at each other, nodded, then took off sprinting to their separate rooms.
5 minutes later I had two sandwiches done, and 3 bottled waters beside them. I run a mental list of what I need, towels, extra sunblock, food, water, a camera, maybe some toys, and whatever else I can think of. I finish the last sandwich and grab some fruits and snacks from the fridge, which Cherry and Mark said I have free reign of. I had my camera in the bag I brought, and I saw some sunblock in the bathroom last night. All I need are the towels.
I spent several more minutes trying to find those damned things, but couldn’t see them anywhere. I brace myself for what is to come. I have to ask Mark, and Mark is with Daryl.
I make my way outside of the house and towards the open, metal shed. I can see the body of the car just slightly sticking out of the garage. I brace myself as I walk in. Instead of my eyes finding Daryl's again, they are faced with Marks hunched over back. Daryl was no where to be seen. Mark was bent over the hood, fixing something with the engine I guess.
“Uh, Mark?” I call over the loud noises. Mark whips around and nearly hits his head on the open hood of the car. He chuckles to himself and gives me a warm smile. He has oil up the back of his neck, and cheek.
“Oh, hey (Y/N).” Suddenly the loud noise stops and Mark and I hear a loud crash, followed by a sheepish “ow”. Mark leans over the car.
“You alright Daryl?” My cheeks burn red as Daryl emerges from under the car. He had grease and dirt all over him, covering his deep blush, the sight of him took my breath away. If I thought he was cute at 14...well, if my 13 year old self saw him now, I don’t even know what she would do. Daryl avoids eye contact with me, but nods to Mark.
“M’ fine.” He mumbles. He shuffles his feet and the air seems thicker, like he also thought this should be going different. We should be hugging, and catching up. But instead we can’t even look at each other without wanting to drool, or runaway.
Mark turns to me, eyeing the two of us with a sly smile. I can only imagine how Cherry talked us up to be. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the thought of Cherry telling Mark all about Daryl and I when we were younger.
“Something wrong with the kids?” Mark asks me. I quickly shake my head.
“No, they’re inside getting ready for the lake. We’re going to be over there if you need us.” I suddenly forgot my question for Mark when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl trail his eyes over me, taking me in. I could watch him all day, looking at me like that. Maybe I should wear this bathing suit more often.
“That all?” Mark asks me kindly. I laugh stupidly, god I was standing there like an idiot.
“Uhm no, sorry. I was wondering where the towels were?”
“Oh sure thing. Let me go get them for you.” Before I could stop him, Mark is out of sight and going towards the house. Anxiety courses through me as I turn to Daryl. But all those feelings go away when we lock eyes, we were friends once, why the hell am I so nervous? He isn't a stranger, right? Neither of us said a word, I wanted to say hi, or something witty but I just couldn’t get a word out. He looked at me different, his mouth pulled in a thin line instead of that easy smile he wore years ago. He was the first to break the silence.
“How long you stayin’ this time?” His voice was harsher than I ever remember it being. It takes me a second to gather my wits.
“I don’t know Daryl.” I thought I saw his chest still when I said his name, like he was holding his breath. But he lets out a dry laugh and looks to the floor again.
“Why you slummin’ it anyway?” He said with his eyes trailing around us, then finally setting to a glare at me. His question felt like he poked me with a sharp stick. Who did he think I was?
“This ain’t slumming it Daryl.” I say sharply, he rolls his eyes and and scoffs. A bitter sound.
“Then why’d you make to leave so quick?” He shoots back. Before I could speak he cuts me off. “Nah, I bet you couldn’t wait to go back. Princess goes back to her castle, leaving the lot of us behind.” He sets his tool down and walks around the car, getting closer to me as he spoke. “Like wiping your hands of fucking filth aint’ it.” He seethed at me. I feel my own anger rise, why was he being like this?
“You think I wanted to leave you! That I wanted to leave this place. Daryl you were my friend, my best friend. I would’ve stayed if I didn’t have school, you know that.” I say. His jaw clenches and he walks behind me, bumping my shoulder, he grabbed a rag and wiped his hands from grease. He smells like gas, sweat and cigarettes.
“Ya, well I don’t want no friends. You ain’t no different from any of ‘em!” He couldn’t look at me now, he threw the towel down on the table and walked back around to where he was before I disrupted him. My chest heaved and constricted. How could he say that? I had to go so many years ago, I had to leave him...
Mark cheerfully walks in with a stack of colorful towels in his arms. Clearly oblivious to the tension in the room.
“Here ya go!” He hands the towels to me and a Coke to Daryl. “Back to business then?” Mark jokes. Daryl grunts a reply and picks up his tool again, giving me the cold shoulder. I hold a snarky comment back and turn to Mark.
“Thanks Mark. I’ll get out of your way then.” I say the last part a bit harsher than I meant to, but It wasn’t directed towards Mark.
I rush out of there, and take a few seconds to breath. I refuse to cry, this is going to be a good day. I walk back to the house to see Rosie standing there in a blue, ruffled bathing suit, and Monty in green swim trunks. He was holding onto a large dinosaur floatie, that looked more like the loch ness monster. I beam at their cuteness, feeling better already. I tell them to hold on while I go inside to finish putting the picnic things in a bag. I was only gone a couple of minutes before I walk out to find them with white streaks all over their body. In my absence they put sunblock on, badly may I add. I laugh and help them rub it in.
You three make your way to the lake, completely oblivious to Daryl’s gaze, and his sad, hidden smile, as he watched you walk away.
#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl imagine#twd#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#daryl dixon&reader#romance#angst#teen romance#young norman reedus#young daryl dixon#dary dixon fanfic#dary dixon/reader#twd fic#twd fandom
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