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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years ago

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Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 07 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (06)

Next part (08) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Don't Go

Billy did threw the keychain away when he got home. It was on the trash can he has in his bedroom, beside the desk. It remained there, among a few school papers for half an hour before he took it again.

It went right back to it's previous place at the nightstand.

Billy is deliberately skipping class. It's the fourth day now, and he doesn't feel like he'll be returning tomorrow.

He leaves everyday at the same time he would for school, and returns after. But he drives to lonely places where he thinks he can run away from his own mind. But it is everywhere he goes.

She is everywhere he goes.

Billy Hargrove did considered going back to his old ways. He even managed to make his way to the phone, ready to call Stacy again. But when he picked up the phone, he caught himself halfway through her number. The number that belongs to the girl he can't stop thinking about. To the girl he can't ruin. Whose life he can't destroy.

She's too good for him, and he knows that. An angel, as stupid as it may sound coming from a asshole like him. Because that's what Billy thinks he is. He'd live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve (Y/N). Her smile, her laughter, her blushing cheeks. Her amazing, sweet scent, that shine in her eyes when she looks at him.

What does that even mean?

Billy is looking at Hawkins, parked on this cliff. (Y/N) would like it, and he wonders if she ever came here. Probably not, since the only people who know this place are those who come here for a hook up. There are a lot of places Billy would like to show her, some of them would take an hour drive through the woods, but it's worth it. He found them soon after getting into town, because he couldn't handle to stay still, so he drove. Pretty much as he's doing now, constantly running away from something that's inside of him.

Sighing, he pushes the car door close. At this time, he should be leaving school, going to her place as always. Today they'd go over the Biology class, if he's not mistaken. (Y/N) loves it, mostly when it's about animals. She loves birds. She didn't had to tell him that, he got it from the way she smiled as the teacher spoke.

These little things, the small details, as silly as they may be, are making him fall harder.

But he can't.

Well, he can.

But not her. Billy knows who he was. Or who he still is. So he knows what people will say about her. They'll call (Y/N) mean names, say she's just another of his sluts. And that's something he can't do, not to her.

But despite knowing this is the right thing to do, it hurts. It hurts that he has to step away from her, for good this time. Billy doesn't know how he'll live from now on without their daily meetings. Without her soft voice, her sweet scent inebriating him every damn time.

He has it bad.

It's only worse because he remembers it clearly, that day at that stupid parlor, how she said they could try. They could wait and see what happens.

That was a chance. A small one, that probably would lead to nothing, but still, a chance. Something he never thought he'd get. Not with (Y/N). But now, he won't even try anymore.

This might be love, he thinks. Putting someone else's well being before his own.

It's a hard thing to acknowledge, but when it's real, there's no way to run from it.

Sighing, Billy starts the car, putting the daisy keychain on the passenger seat. For a moment he sees her image, looking at him and smiling. On the next second, it's gone.

With a weight on his chest, he maneuvers the car, heading back to the hell on Earth he calls home.

“I don't know, Nan. He just... He disappeared. Like smoke in the air and I don't know why.” Sitting shotgun in Nancy's car, you let your heart out. Billy didn't show up at school last week, and not today either. It's been five days already, and he doesn't even answer your calls.

“You know Billy Hargrove, (Y/N). I'm not impressed with this sudden change and neither should you.”

“No, Nan...” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh. “Trust me, Billy... He's not like that. Not with me at least and I know what you'll say. That he lies to get girls but... I've seen how he treats them and so have you. He... He never yelled at me, or called me bad names, he...” You're defending him. The idiot fled with no explanation and still, you're defending him.

“(Y/N), I trust your judgment.” She stops by your place, turning her body towards you. “If what you're saying it true, go after him.”

“I–”

“Look, I get that you don't want to talk about it because you're scared of having feelings for the bad boy, and I'll wait until you're ready, but honestly, I think you know what you feel.”

Looking down at your hands, you blush. “I really like to be around him, Nancy.” Your voice is low and weak, as you admit it to her and to yourself at the same time. “And I miss him.”

“Don't call him, then. Go after him.” She touches your shoulder, smiling. “...Just don't let Steve know Billy is making you sad because you know he'll freak out.”

“God, no!” Giggling, you reach for your bag on the backseat. Steve looks out for you, even now, and it's good to know he has your back. But you definitely don't need the two guys having a fight over some misunderstanding. “Tell him I'm fine. Because I am. I'll... I'll fix things. And if Billy does want to stay away from me for whatever reason... I'll be alright.”

“Good luck and call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you, Nan.” Giving her a hug, you step out of the car, heading inside. “Mom! I'm home!”

“Hi, darling!” She shouts from upstairs. Taking the chance, you run to the phone, quickly dialing Billy's number. It's not the first time you call, and whenever he picks up, you say ‘hello’ and the call is cut. It breaks your heart every time.

“Who's this?” A female voice answers, slightly pissed.

Relieved, you breathe out. “Hi, Max. It's (Y/N).”

“AKA the reason why the shitface has been locked in his bedroom like a jerk.” She speaks fast, and you furrow your eyebrows and giggle. “I think Billy is in love with you or something.”

“What?” Max says as if it's no big deal, as if she didn't made your heart start beating insanely fast, neck and cheeks heating up. “I-I don't think–”

“Billy never gets upset over a girl so...” Her voice fades, and you hear something in the back, wondering if it's Billy. “He has your keychain, by the way. A daisy flower.”

“Keychain?” You don't remember any keychains, so you just sigh, pacing around. “Max, can you do me a favor? I'm going there so don't let Billy go anywhere. And when I ring the door bell, let him answer it, please.”

“Alright. But don't take too long. Neil will be back around eight.”

“I'm going now. Thanks.” And you hang up, heading to the front door. “Mom, I'm going to get Billy!”

“Alright!” Good thing she doens't ask much questions, God bless her for that.

You try not to drive too fast, and you try to tell yourself this is no big deal. But you don't know what will happen. Preparing yourself for a heartbreak sounds good, so you decide to expect the worse.

So when you're parking on the sidewalk in front of Bill'y house, you know what you'll do. You'll put a finger on his face and ask what the hell he's thinking skipping class like that.

When you reach the front door, you realize you've never been here. Well, Billy did dropped his sister a few times before driving back to your place. And then, you're whole act drops. “Damn it.” Pressing the door bell, you wonder if you'd have enough time to just run back to the car and leave. There's a discussion inside the house, with Billy telling Max to get the door, and she refusing. You would have time to run, but you decide to be brave. So you stand your ground, pressing the bell again.

“Damn you, Maxine.” Billy groans, and on the next second the door is violently pulled open.

You freeze, watching as Billy's face drops. “Hi.” You mutter, looking down at your hands, blushing. You shouldn't be here. This is stupid. Whatever Billy said at Scoops Ahoy, it's over. But still, you want to try. To break through him, even if it means you'll be pushed further away. “C-can we talk?”

There's silence, several seconds of silence. And you curse yourself. Billy would never like you. He's the bad boy Nancy warns you about, that girls like you should avoid. Biting your lip, you feel your throat burning, tears wanting to make their way to your eyes.

“Nevermind, I shouldn't have come.” Pushing the words out, you turn on your heels to leave. But Billy grabs your arm, forcing you to stop. “Let go.” You beg, looking back at him. Your heart is breaking and you don't even know why. You just need to be away from Billy right now, and from all these feelings boiling inside you.

“No, please, just... Don't go.” His grip gets loose, and his hand slides from your forearm to your hand, and he holds it, pulling you inside. “Come in.”

Taking a deep breath, you weakly nod, letting him pull you into the house.

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @vivian-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things fanfiction #billy stranger things imagine #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #imagine stranger things

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dottiechan · 3 years ago

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ICEBREAKER Pt. 2 & 3

Read on AO3 (link in bio)

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter

Wordcount: 2060 (Pt. 2); 2050 (Pt. 3)

Summary:

Pt. 2: Three are awake on the Marauder. Two are holding onto one another. One is barely holding on. (Hunter-centric chapter)

Pt. 3: You can only keep saying no to your old addictions for so long before they return with full force. (Crosshair-centric chapter)

Warnings: cursing, smoking & implied nicotine addiction

Part 2

The stars streak and melt against the abyss of space, unsteady and bleeding. You miss the stationary points of light, precise and dependable and easy. Stars make constellations that guide you, that show you the way even when you're lost. Hyperspace just confuses you, chills you to the very bones, makes you feel more lost than you already do. Which, to be fair, is not too difficult right now.

Having left the ice planet behind after the successful elimination of a remote Separatist research centre, you're en route to Kamino once more. What's more, you have the cockpit all to yourself, and you sit with your knees up, head rested back, throat exposed, undone by the comfort of solitude as you allow yourself to lower your guard. It'd be peaceful on any other day.

But your mind is plagued by Tech's revelation.

Your rational side knows he must have made a mistake. After all, what's the chance of either of them liking you? And why would they? You're fighting together, and you're bleeding, and sweating, and trying, and maybe even dying together. But that's nothing more than what's expected of you, of each soldier of the GAR, clone or otherwise. You're coexisting now, but you could be reassigned at any moment really. You try to convince yourself that you wouldn't feel the change, that working with a squad other than the Bad Batch wouldn't chafe you terribly, but you see through your own lies.

Of course you'd hate it.

Where would you be without Tech's advice and sage-like aura? Without Wrecker's enthusiastic support? Without Crosshair correcting your stance when you shoot, without him always watching your six? Without Hunter's hand on your shoulder, saving you from dangerous situations, but also, and maybe most importantly, even from yourself?

It would be easy to answer those questions. But you don't have the power to do so now.

So you sit back, wishing for simpler times, times when your greatest worry was Bracca and thinking they hated you. You'd rather they hate you than... than what Tech said. Somehow the idea of either of them liking you in an unprofessional way, even remotely, sends your head spinning. It makes your throat constrict, it makes you feel unworthy and angry and confused beyond belief. The idea of both of them liking you at the same time - as outlandish as it sounds - just makes you absolutely lose your mind.

So you try not to think about them, you try not to think about Hunter's softness, and Crosshair's piercing gaze, and what it would be like to let them close to you. They already feel closer than what you're comfortable with. Maybe they are already closer than you know.

But they can't get any closer. You can't let them, and you promise yourself to shut them the fuck out. No, you don't deserve this, you don't deserve them fucking up whatever respect you've built up with the squad. And you don't have the right to mess up their friendship either. They belong with each other, all of them, and no matter how much you like calling them your boys inwardly, they'll never be yours. They'll always be a family, with or without you. And just who are you to tear it apart?

You try so hard to fit in, but it all seems too much, as if the four walls around you were pressing closer and closer until you suffocated, and you breathe in shakily, afraid of your doubts manifesting into anxiety.

But the slight tremor in your fingers is a telltale sign you can’t ignore. You are good at repressing emotions in the heat of battle, but you weren’t engineered to feel no stress. Nature formed you to thrive on it.

...

He's been awake ever since you refused to turn in and insisted on staying in the cockpit. Hyperspace en route to Kamino is the safest possible space travel for the squad, but he doesn't argue with you. At some point, Crosshair is up - he knows it's him from the very specific way his feet touch the ground. He skulks about the ship for a while before returning to bed. And then it's just you.

He's trying his very best to ignore you, he presses his pillow over his head and bites down on his lower lip so hard it almost draws blood. He hates the power you have over him, he hates how he can't have anything to himself anymore that isn't tainted by thoughts of you. And apparently, he can't even fucking sleep without knowing you're okay, calm, quiet, dozing off, hopefully dreaming about him.

But your next breath, it really sounds disturbed, almost gasping, and his heart clenches in his chest. He'd protect you from your very own thoughts too if he only knew how, but he grows shy whenever he sees an opportunity to really be there for you. All he ever wanted was to make you happy, and he doesn't know how it ended up like this, how his own happiness ended up being intertwined with yours so irreversibly. His own breathing grows a little more restless, chest rising and falling with your anxiety, throat tightening with your worry, mouth running dry with your confusion. And he'd take it all from you if he could, he'd drain you of all of your worries and pains if he knew you'd feel better.

He says he hates the power you have over him, but what he really hates is his inability to fight it.

He slips out of his bed, carefully and quietly to not wake the others, for once in his life grateful for Wrecker's loud snoring as it covers the sound of his footsteps on the metal flooring.

Before opening the door leading to the cockpit, he looks down at himself in his blacks, bandana abandoned with his gear back at the crew's quarters. He runs his fingers through his long curls in vain, fighting the urge to turn back and make himself more presentable, someone you could like. He's not doing this for himself, he scolds himself, but his insecurities keep buzzing in the back of his mind as he presses the button on the control panel and enters.

You've been crying.

The red rims around your eyes shatter his heart into a million pieces almost instantly, and he struggles to say anything for a second as you stare back at him wide eyed, startled. You're beautiful and sad and Hunter just wants to undo your pain any way he can. He'd be your collateral damage if you'd only let him.

"You should be resting," you say suddenly, the heels of your palms flying up to your tear streaked cheeks in a futile attempt to hide the fact that you've been crying. He wishes you wouldn't, he wishes you were comfortable with just being unapologetically yourself around him, sharing whatever sorrows and joys you had in your heart with him.

"I couldn't... You..."

"I'm fine." The little lie is so soft, almost like a caress against his cheek, a plea to let you wallow in your own misery. He'd never forgive himself for walking away now, and he can't understand why you want him to treat you so shitty.

"As your superior, I have a duty to make sure you're alright." He wants to wince when his words escape his mouth - he sounds so strict and stuck up and distant, and he wants to take it all back when a sour smile appears on your lips for a split second.

"I'm not crying as a soldier."

Hunter wills himself to sit, and forces himself to keep holding your gaze even though he wants to retreat. He's afraid, he's never been so close to breaking around you, but that damned shine in your bloodshot eyes doesn't let him back down. He knows he's already started down his road. Maybe it was time to commit to it.

"Well, I'm not asking as your sergeant then. I'm asking as your-"

"Friend?"

"I'm whatever you need me to be."

"I can't talk about it," you say after a short pause, looking away, leaving Hunter wonder whether that flush on your cheeks is because of him or not. He's disappointed you don't trust him, but he can't really be mad at you. He probably wouldn't trust himself in your place. And yet he can't stop yearning and wanting and tripping over his damn feet to make you feel better.

"That's okay. I'm still here, if you need me."

But maybe you don't need him, he thinks, his heart sinking, as he watches the colours of hyperspace reflect in your silent eyes. He stands, a hand stretching out towards you. He grabs the leather of your seat, digits sinking into it with helplessness before letting go completely, of the headrest, of your sadness, of you, and allows his own hell to swallow him up completely. He'll go back to his cot, and Wrecker snoring, and Tech mumbling in his sleep, and he'll listen to your misery in silence, suffering along mutely with every hitched, disturbed breath of yours. If that's how you want it to be, then he doesn't have the strength to change your mind.

You grab him in the corridor, catching him off-guard. He's always been off-centre around you, but so far it was only your retreats that unbalanced him. Your proximity is another intoxicating distraction, and for a moment, he feels like he can't move, he can't swallow, he can't reach out to touch you.

But you're hugging him, and how could he not return it?

Change comes slowly for him. First, it's his fingers that find your hair, and they tangle themselves in it at the nape of your neck tentatively. Your face is turned away from him, but your cheek is pressed firmly against his shoulder, and your arms have him locked in a tight hug, your ice cold fingertips seeping in his own heat. Hunter can't think straight, but he knows he's your lifeline now, and he slowly warms up, and tightens his embrace around you, and eventually holds you as if the world was ending, and you seem to need it. If only he could make your problems disappear simply by squeezing you against himself tightly enough.

It's unprofessional, so unprofessional, and yet nothing felt more natural to him than you in his arms, his nerve endings singing with the joy of your proximity. Now that he knows how sweet having you this close can truly be, he doesn't know how he's ever going to go entire days without your embrace. As if he needed anything else to prevent him from sleeping peacefully. He doesn't think he's slept well ever since you joined his team, and he doesn't seem to find it in his heart to regret it. It's bad, and destructive, and unhealthy, but it's also out of control, and Hunter promises himself not to stand in its way anymore.

No more swimming against the tide.

He just wishes, so desperately wishes he didn't have to hurt Crosshair in the process.

...

Fucking hell, he knew it'd hurt, he knew it'd come, inevitable and destructive like a tsunami, but he never actually believed it would be this bad, this paralysing. He hates it, he just wants it all to stop, he just wants to get out. But loving you doesn't seem to have an exit, and just like with breathing, the only way he'll stop doing it is when he dies.

But what's even worse than all the repressed anger and helplessness and loneliness is the hope, small and fragile but blinking steadfastly amidst the darkness of his feelings. The hope that - despite you being in Hunter's arms right now - somehow you'll still end up falling in love with him. It's false hope, Crosshair knows, but he just can't help holding onto it like a fucking lifeline.

He leans his head against the doorframe for a second, dizzy and momentarily overcome with sickness. Then he turns and lays down, curling up alone. Crosshair can't watch another second of this, of Hunter acting out all his forbidden fantasies until there's nothing left for him anymore.

He squeezes his eyes shut, but all he sees is Hunter's fingers tangled in your hair.

Part 3

You glance sideways, head propped up on your hands. He's surveying the street once more through the scope of his rifle. You consider yourself a rational person, someone who's not gross and would never violate any lines of decency, but there's something so unbelievably attractive about Crosshair as he aims his sniper rifle that you have a hard time restraining yourself from staring too much. Well, maybe you're willing to cross a few lines for him, but what the hell.

This stakeout is lengthy and has you stretched a little too thin anyways. Might as well pass the time with something.

Crosshair seems bored as well, more restless than usual. He lowers his gun and slings it over his shoulder, and you observe his lazy but meticulous movements, hoping to catch his attention before the silence drives you absolutely crazy. He comes to sit beside you on the rooftop as you watch the busy streets below you. You both know the rhythm of this place by heart now. First, there's a great bustling crowd in the late afternoon, mostly the poor workers of the adjacent factory fighting their way over to the beaten up shuttlebus station, and the merchants packing up shop and going home, leaving their stalls behind for the night. Then there are a few odd stragglers later, mostly seeking out the cheap watering hole on the other end of the street. And then around midnight, your separatist spy would finally show up to drop off his intel in the form of old, harmless looking datacards in a seemingly abandoned alley that ends in a cul-de-sac.

And then of course you'd alert the squad before the intel was retrieved, and Tech would make copies and start tracing the spy's sources, while Hunter would inform Commander Cody about the developments. Because there's a war on the other side of the planet that your information can help win, and while things look sad and boring here, at least this dusty city hasn't been bombed into oblivion yet.

"I can't wait to finally get the jump on this guy."

"Tech says we ought to wait a few more days," you remind Crosshair as you stretch your feet out in front of you.

"We're wasting our time here. There's a battle to be won on this very planet. So why are we stuck with this boring job?"

"Don't you like spending time with me?" you tease him, but you're scared of his answer, so you don't give him enough time to respond. "This is important. We're saving lives, Cross."

He bristles at the nickname, but nods reluctantly in the end. You hope it's the job he can't stand, and not you, because deep down you like this, you like not being shot at, you like having the upper hand, you like spending time with Crosshair, away from Hunter's suffocating lingering heavy with expectations posed towards you. You're none the wiser since you had that conversation with Tech some time ago, but you're all the more confused, and you're trying even harder to get back to how things were before. So maybe taking a page from Crosshair’s book and outright ignoring Hunter wasn’t the smartest idea, but you don’t have a better one yet.

"And who's going to save us before we die of boredom?"

From somewhere he produces a cigarette, and he flicks his toothpick off the roof before placing it between his lips. You raise your eyebrows, and he catches your eyes and smirks. He knows you've been trying to beat your own addiction, he knows how Hunter fucking hates the smell of smoke lingering about you, and maybe at this point he's only doing this to spite him, but he lights it, takes a drag and offers it to you.

"I really shouldn't," you wince, your rekindled craving suddenly running rampant in your veins. "I've been off it for a few months now."

"I've only got the one. But suit yourself," he shrugs, and takes another drag, smoke curling past his parted lips so enticingly that you lean closer involuntarily.

"I can't let you ruin your lungs alone." You break, and extend your hand. He chuckles, his fingers brushing against yours as he passes you the lit cigarette. You inhale the smoke, and you remember why you used to be so hung up on this shit as the nicotine soaks in your blood. Then you look at Crosshair, sweet and angry and oh so bitter Crosshair, and you soak him in too, unsurprised when he triggers the same reaction in you as nicotine does.

You remember why you used to be so hung up on him and you swallow hard, because all you can think about is what Hunter would say if he knew.

...

"I think I'm getting some sleep."

"Knock yourself out."

"I don't get how you're not tired."

"I am." If only you knew just how tired he really is, with all the pretending he has to do, with all the looking away whenever Hunter is by your side, hands drawn to you as if you were magnetic. But you are magnetic, you fucking are, he knows, he has a hard enough time to tear his gaze away from you constantly. He dreads to even think of what it would be like to have to keep his hands away from you too. He'd probably go mad.

That's why he never touches you, he avoids you, he withdraws like the losing party he is.

"Well, spyboy has already made his appearance tonight. It wouldn't be characteristic of him to come back again," you shrug. “Maybe we could both turn in for the night.”

"You really don't understand the concept of a stakeout, do you?" A snort and an adjustment to his posture later he's back to being mean to you because he needs to reinforce those walls he's pulling up between you. He'll be as cold as ice and you will burn your fingers and pull back and never come close to him again. Or at least that's the plan, he can't account for all times he's slipped out, all the times you made him laugh, made his heart race, made him wish he was more bite than bark with you. "There's a reason why we need two people here, remember? Someone needs to watch the street while I'm resting. Otherwise it'd be pretty difficult for me to do my job properly."

You take the bait so easily, and the pout and the crossed arms almost makes him smile. "Oh, so that's all I am here? Your backup? Your sidekick? Number two?"

"Pretty much." It clearly hurts you, but you deserve it a little. After all, he's your number two as well.

"It's such a joy working together with you."

Satisfied, Crosshair turns back to the street, ignoring the ache in his heart. He goes against his own wishes, but he's always taken care of himself, and he knows what's best for him. And pining after you like a lovesick cadet is not it, he can do so much better than that. You'll go now, probably pick a spot on the roof that is far away from him, you'll curl up on your mat and fall asleep, angry with him for the rest of the night.

But damn you, you're probably right, and the spy's not coming back again.

When you sit next to him, he's blinking in confusion, blank, nothing witty coming to mind. You sigh, annoyed but already letting it all go. Your elbows are touching, and he's too afraid to move.

"Do you have another cigarette?"

"You think I was lying when I said I only had the one?"

"Yeah. I think you were planning on waiting for me to fall asleep and then smoke them all alone."

"Smart girl."

The praise awakens something feral and primal in you, but Crosshair is too busy fishing out his pack of smokes to see it. You're sitting under the stars soon, ducking behind the half wall to hide the burning tips of your cigarettes, arms pressed together as you lean into his side more. You flick the ash off absentmindedly, and he watches your fingers, knowing he couldn't possibly look into your eyes now without feeling things he shouldn't feel.

"I don't mind being your sidekick."

And there you go again, fucking up his plans once more as he has nothing smart to say. He just sits, and smokes, and ignores the drumming of his heart in his ears as he focuses on you being so close to him. Just one last slip-up, and he'll do better tomorrow, he'll chase you off, he'll make you fucking hate him. But tonight is his, selfish or not. Tonight he will steal from Hunter, and then he'll never insert himself into your life again.

By the time you've put yours out, he's already lighting a second cigarette, and you blink slowly, exhaustion creeping up on you. Crosshair is about to shove you, about to tell you to fuck off finally and get some sleep, but then you put your head on his shoulder and he shuts up.

He's too scared to move, to ruin this moment. Tomorrow, tomorrow he'll stay true to himself, but tonight, he'll stay true to you.

...

"They've missed their check-in."

"Actually, they haven't. Crosshair gave me a status update not long ago. Looks like it’s all quiet - we won’t be seeing more of our spy tonight.”

While Tech is busy tracing the origins of the spy’s latest intel, Hunter paces up and down the abandoned cellar they established as their momentary camp. This temporary imprisonment has them all restless and stupid and twitchy, and he blames his own jumpy nature on being so understimulated. Listening to nothing but Tech’s datapad and Wrecker’s whining all day in the dark and damp confinement of these four walls is enough to drive him positively mad.

It has nothing to do with not seeing you or hearing your voice for days on end, no. Nothing to do with not catching a whiff of your scent in the mouldy air underground. Nothing to do with knowing you’re up on a rooftop, exposed, with no other than Crosshair.

Hunter trusts him to keep you safe. But he’s being irrational and jealous even though it is totally unwarranted.

Because he loves you.

It was a hard labour, to give birth to that internal confession, but he’s never felt so relieved ever since he’s done it. He finally has a name to put to all the yearning and pain and hope he’s harboured for seemingly endless months. But you’re not ready, he knows that. And maybe he isn’t ready to say those words out aloud either, and yet he knows the day will come. Because in the corridor of the Marauder those few weeks ago, while the rest of the ship slumbered, the two of you shared a moment that meant something.

You’ve been careful not to repeat it again, and he’s respected your wish, but he sees the way you look at him. Sees the purposefulness in your avoidance of him. Hell, he can practically smell your confusion. So he backs up as much as he can to give you the much needed time and space to hopefully figure out how him wanting to be close to you makes you feel.

But he likes to keep an eye on you nonetheless, not necessarily just to keep you safe, but also for that. And allowing you to tag along with Crosshair on a stakeout doesn’t exactly help him do that.

So he paces, dragging along his love for you with every step, ignoring his festering jealousy. Crosshair doesn’t even seem to like you anymore, he’s been vocal about it lately too, so there’s nothing to worry about. Despite it being an irrational fear, he still dreads leaving you alone with him, but he won’t have it. He knows you and his brother better than this. He knows. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him.

And as Hunter paces, Tech occasionally glances up to check on his sergeant, his friend, heart heavy with worry not just for him, or you, or Crosshair, but for the future of the whole squad in general.

#dottiechan writes #hunter x reader x crosshair #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tbb x you #crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb fanfiction #star wars

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mooniefics · 4 years ago

Text

— in the grand scheme of things [ 1 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren jaeger / reader

word count : 8.4k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, eventual smut, praise kink, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warnings : contains nsfw, sexual coercion, intoxicated reader, rlly toxic behavior

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

note : i apologize if the text convoformatting is a little yucky, i pinky promise it looked wayy better on ao3 (//▽//)

— originally posted 1 / 20 / 21 on ao3 —

you would reluctantly admit that you and eren had been experiencing a few issues as of recently.

it was the run-of-the-mill turbulence: ignored texts and phone calls, unexplained hostility, hanging around with your shared group of friends—more his than yours—without you. you'd been able to ignore it around midterms, being so busy with studying and getting all your family affairs in order for the end of the year that you didn't have much time to worry about how he hadn't bothered to respond to your "happy new year, baby!!!" message you'd sent days ago.

but winter break came and went with no reply from him, you spent christmas and new years in the company of your parents, who couldn't seem to keep quiet about asking about "that jaeger boy". you couldn't really blame them for their questions, you'd been friends for nearly four years now, in a relationship since the night of senior prom, even followed each other to the same university with a few other high school friends just to stay close. the summer that preceded your first year of college was so full of love and life, celebrating your newfound freedom that you had always thought would come with adulthood. but you supposed that it was just the hopeless romantic in you talking, it was called the honeymoon phase for a reason.

consulting his best friends about his sudden detachedness yielded nothing—mikasa had never held much besides poorly hidden disdain for you, and all armin had to offer was nervous glances over to the uninterested girl as he assured you that he was probably stressed about his classes, or had another disagreement with his mother about his choice of major, just excuse after excuse for his friend's behavior. you were feeling desperate. you had little desire to break things off, to throw away nine months of commitment despite how your relationship had soured. you were in love with him, and he hadn't explicitly expressed that he wanted to end things, just left you out of the loop for a bit, nothing that couldn't be fixed with a nice long conversation over dinner, right?

but how could you reach him if he wouldn't answer your calls, if his friends only seemed to want to placate you rather than actively help, you felt like there was nobody to turn to—except him.

zeke, the ever-elusive older brother. you'd met him upon one of your first visits to eren's house, a brief, somewhat awkward exchange when you'd ventured into the kitchen by yourself to grab a few things for your friends in the living room. he'd startled you when you turned out of the pantry to find him standing by the fridge, eyeing you and your armful of chip bags curiously, only wearing a pair of thin-framed glasses and grey sweatpants, revealing the sculpted expanse of his muscular arms and torso, an unopened can of beer in his hand.

"you one of eren's friends?" he'd asked, cracking open the tab and taking a generous gulp.

you replied with a quick nod, adding a sheepish "yup..! everyone else is in the living room, i'm on snack duty" with a shaky smile.

he chuckled, shaking his head and running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "typical eren. 'm zeke, good to meet you."

he didn't bother to ask your name before he disappeared into the adjacent hallway, the distant sound of a shutting door finally letting you release the breath you didn't know you'd been holding. that was how a majority of your exchanges went over the last few years, the longest conversations you'd had was when he'd offered to help you on your physics homework more than a couple times, his number was only in your phone because of the one time you'd worn the teeshirt of a band he happened to like and he wanted to send you a playlist. there were plenty of things you didn't know about him, but he was eren's older brother—half-brother, if you wanted to get technical—and after seeing the deflective nature of his closest friends, zeke seemed to be your next best option.

so now you were here, nervously standing at the door to his new apartment, dressed nicely so you didn't risk making a bad impression after not having seen him all these months. he seemed sympathetic over the phone when you'd called him last night, not minding how you'd contacted him out of the blue or that it was only for the sake of asking something of him, inviting you to discuss things more thoroughly over dinner. you didn't know whether he'd extended a helping hand for his brother's sake or your own, but you would be grateful no matter what if he gave some sound advice and a few words of reassurance.

you were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the lock unlatching, the door swinging open to reveal zeke, smartly dressed in a pair of dark jeans and dress shirt, the top few buttons left undone. "sorry if i kept you waiting," he said, stepping aside to allow you in, "dinner's just about ready."

"no worries." you replied quickly as you slipped off your heels, hoping the heat warming your face wasn't flushing visibly on your cheeks.

he had always been a good-looking guy, an effortless sort of attractiveness that was only magnified by the relaxed yet perceptive air he carried. but he'd changed since that day you first met—his shaggy hair had been trimmed back into a shorter, more manageable style, the usual scruff of facial hair had grown out into a well-maintained beard, frames that similarly complimented his handsome features perched on the bridge of his nose. flashing a polite smile, you stepped into the apartment, trying not to let your anxiety get the better of you as the door was shut and locked behind you.

"nice place." you mused, peering about at the spacious, well-decorated interior as you followed beside him.

"thanks, honestly i'm glad i could find someone that was willing to split the rent," you felt nerves stir in the pit of your stomach, the thought of having to meet the other tenant leaving you feeling a bit uneasy. he turned down to glance at you, grey eyes glinting as he offered you an easy grin, "you don't have to worry about my roommate, i kicked him out for the night so you didn't feel uncomfortable."

you were sure the blush on your face was evident now, biting at the inside of your cheek as you both entered into the kitchen. "oh.. thank you. sorry if i caused any trouble, i know this was kind of last minute."

"no worries." he echoed your earlier sentiment, motioning you to the table just beside the kitchen before he returned to the skillet on the stove. the warm scent of coriander and turmeric filled the air as he lifted the lid and set it aside on the counter, stirring the simmering contents within. "hope you like curry," he said over his shoulder, turning down the gas on the stove and opening up the cabinet beside him to pull out the plates, "i didn't make it too spicy, just in case."

"i don't really eat it too often, but it smells amazing."

you felt yourself starting to relax into the chair, shedding your jacket and hanging your purse on the side of the chair as you watched him scoop a generous portion of white rice onto each plate. it was just you two here, he was willing to help, and you were incredibly grateful for his hospitality.

you pulled your phone out of your pocket to fiddle with while he was still plating the food, aimlessly tapping through your apps to kill some time. your text to eren from a few days ago still read "delivered", and you felt a slight twinge prick in your chest as you closed out of your messages, opting to scroll through your feed on one of the few social medias your friends had convinced you to download. it was relatively safe to look there, seeing as eren didn't post all that often, if at all, but seeing everyone your age, people that you knew from your classes posing with their boyfriends and girlfriends and going out on excursions with their peers made you feel jealous. you couldn't have imagined what you had done to deserve such a shitty situation.

your thoughts were interrupted by the dull clink of the plate being set before you, the clatter of silverware following as he rounded over to the opposite side of the table to place his things down. you switched your phone on silent just in case, tucking it back into your purse and sitting up a bit straighter in your chair. but instead of sitting down, he wandered back over to the kitchen, reaching up into a different cabinet to fetch two glasses.

"i'm assuming talking about your relationship troubles isn't the easiest, so pick your poison. i've got gin, tequila, beer—" he listed off the myriad of drinks he had at his disposal, pausing to throw you a glance. "but i honestly pegged you as a vodka kind of girl."

you felt a nervous giggle bubble up in your chest, fingers twisting in your lap, feeling more than juvenile as you replied. "i'm still under twenty-one, so i'm not really much of a drinker.."

"come on, you're in college now," he said, pulling a bottle of vodka from one of the lower cabinets and stepping over to the fridge, "most of the people hosting parties don't give much of a shit whether you're of legal drinking age or not, and i've got a feeling that you really don't either. i know i got shit-faced plenty of times during my freshman year."

you mentally debated the principles of accepting, he was right in saying that you had attended plenty of parties where you drank with your friends, suppressing a grimace at the memories of you throwing up in a stranger's bathroom while an equally drunk historia or sasha held your hair back. but those times you'd been looking to get wasted, drinking in this context would just be for the sake of loosening up, easing the sting of ripping off the metaphorical bandaid that was the thought of your relationship slowly crumbling right before your eyes.

"you're right," you relented, much to his delight, "and, yes, i guess i am a vodka kind of girl."

you didn't appreciate how charming the grin your words garnered was, fixing your eyes on the steaming plate of chicken curry in front of you before you could embarrass yourself. you were here to figure out how to smooth things over with your boyfriend, not oogle at his unnecessarily attractive older brother.

"here, something simple to start you off." he set down the glass on your place mat, finally taking his seat across the table, "there's plenty of ginger beer and limes in the fridge, and plenty of vodka still left."

you stole a glance at his drink. "whiskey, on the rocks.. how refined."

he gave a low chuckle at your sarcasm, taking a slow sip. "it's an acquired taste, i wouldn't expect someone your age to appreciate it." that was right, he was older than you, significantly older than you. just because you were legally an adult didn't mean your life experience could crop up to zeke's.

"old man." you murmured, a small smile perking up at both of your lips as you spooned some of the curry and rice into your mouth, "wow, thi' i' really gu'!" you managed to speak around the mouthful of food, grey eyes watching you intently with an obvious bemusement from across the table.

"i'm glad you like it. guess those years working at a couple restaurants around town weren't a complete waste." he said, tasting his own bite of the food, "cumin's a little off, hope you can forgive me for that."

"are you kidding me? this exceeds restaurant quality. i can barely put eggs in a pan without burning the kitchen down."

you were nearly a quarter through your plate already, setting your utensil down to take a sip of the drink he'd made for you. it was simple, bubbly, a nice mix of ginger, vodka, and lime to cool off your tongue. you could barely taste the alcohol, which somewhat eased your worries of becoming a drunken mess that required him to babysit you for the rest of the night.

you were both silent for a moment, the air occupied with the scrape of spoons and quiet sips from your respective glasses, and you were beginning to dread ruining such an easy mood with the topic of your emotional turmoil. but zeke beat you to the punch, clearing his throat as he settled his gaze onto you.

"so, you and my brother. you wanted to talk about that, right?"

you allowed yourself to frown a bit, taking a generous sip of your drink before you answered. "yeah. i don't really know where to start.."

"when did you first start noticing problems?"

you felt somewhat eased by his calm tone, bright grey eyes that were entirely focused on you, wordlessly reassuring you that you could trust him with this. you'd come this far, there was no point in trying to back out now.

"well, i guess it was around november." you began, scraping all of the food left onto one side of your plate to keep your hands occupied, "we'd all met up for halloween, me and eren and mikasa and armin—" you prattled off the other names of your friends, even some that you weren't sure he knew from your high school days, but he nodded along all the same. "and we all had an amazing time. got all dressed up, wandered around campus and crashed in on the frat parties, drank ourselves stupid, like you said. and at one point i just completely lost track of eren, and i didn't see him or anyone else besides sasha, connie, and mina for the rest of the night. after that, he kind of dropped off the face of the earth, wouldn't pick up my calls or answer my texts, always told me he was busy when we ran into each other on campus, and he wasn't at his dorm most of the time i came to try and check on him."

by the end, you'd finished off your drink, zeke wordlessly getting up to grab everything to pour you a new one without you asking. you were more flustered at his attentiveness, forcing yourself to chalk it up to him being an excellent host as he returned with a freshly opened can of ginger beer, pouring it over the ice in your glass and adding at least two shots of vodka, finishing it off with half a lime before returning to his seat. had he put that much alcohol the last time?

the thought slipped your mind as he swallowed a few spoonfuls of curry and spoke. "hmm.. so everything was going just fine, and then all of a sudden radio silence?"

you nodded, working on your remainder of rice, watching his face take on a pensive expression.

"if i'm being honest, eren has always been a little shithead." you suppressed a giggle at that. "he's rude, he's immature, and most of all, he's a terrible liar."

"mhm, the ears are a dead giveaway." you added, earning a grin over the rim of his glass.

"exactly. my stepmom— his mom always called him on his shit with that." you shared a moment of laughter at that, the memory of how defensive he would get over in when you'd first pointed it out making you feel a distant nostalgia creeping in the back of your mind.

you remembered how easy the days where all you had to worry about was catching up on all your late work and forcing yourself to learn about nintendo games for the sake of impressing your crush. now on top of school, you had bills and parties and shitty professors and an even shittier situation with your first long-term relationship that had started off so well yet devolved into feeling like you were a million miles away despite living on the same campus.

"so, eren is a shithead. and a terrible liar. go on." you took a long sip of your drink, unable to distinguish the warmth of the alcohol from the warmth of the curry in your stomach.

"well, he's just— how do i say this..." zeke murmured the last bit more to himself than you, pushing up his glasses on his nose and scratching the back of his neck, "he doesn't know a good thing when he sees it." you felt your heart skip at that. "like that mikasa girl, her and eren have been friends since grade school, and never once in all those years has eren ever acknowledged the way she's fuckin' head over heels for him." the mention of mikasa made you feel a sharp pang echo through your chest, suddenly feeling much more disheartened than before, especially at the mention of her perpetual affinity for him.

"but, i do have to give the kid some props," he continued, taking a sip of his whiskey, "at least he had enough of a brain to realize that you're a real catch. if i'm being honest, you're out of his league, and when you first started dating, he knew that."

you couldn't tell if your face was feeling hot because of his words or the fact that you'd just finished off your second drink in one long gulp, already reaching for the unopened ginger beer and vodka. blinking away the glassiness starting to settle over your vision, you met his gaze, suddenly feeling much smaller before him. he waited until you'd finished refilling your drink before he began again, not saying anything about how you'd accidentally poured much more vodka than you meant to.

"i think eren's problem is that he's getting too cocky," your appetite was starting to disappear as you focused on his words, still trying to finish what was left on the plate, "doesn't know his ass from his elbow, but he still thinks he's got everything figured out. you know what i mean, right?"

you nodded with an affirmative hum, a series of incidents that made you want to rip the boy's head off flashing through your mind only added credence to his claim. your tongue was starting heavy in your mouth, movements sluggish as you washed away what was left of dinner with more of your drink. you hadn't been truly drunk in months, not since that halloween party, only indulging in the occasional mimosa over breakfast with your family and your celebratory champagne for new years.

you hoped the heaviness weighing at your lids didn't show on your face, or that your words didn't string together when you replied. "i know exactly what you mean, can't imagine how hard that was to deal with for the last nineteen years."

he chuckled, finishing off his whiskey. "i've saved that kid's ass more time than i could ever care to count. being the older brother is a thankless fuckin' job if i've ever seen one. you done with dinner?"

"yeah. thank you again, it was amazing."

he grinned at your praise, rising from his seat as he spoke. "here, table's kind of crowded, we can move to the couch. i'll take care of dishes later. you want a refill?"

"sure." you responded before you could really think about your answer, trying to subtly steady yourself on the table as you got to your feet, head already starting to spin.

blinking away the blurriness fuzzing at the edges of your vision, you wandered past him through the kitchen and into the adjacent living room, falling into the cushions of the couch before you could trip up over your own feet. you felt embarrassed by your lack of tolerance, but felt some of that tension ebb away when he made his way over to sit next to you, fresh glass of ginger beer and vodka in hand. you didn't expect to feel the warmth of his thigh pressing into yours when he settled down, placing your drink on the coffee table before he turned down to speak to you.

"alright, i haven't said much in the way of advice, so here's what i think."

you grimaced internally, reaching over with an unsteady hand to grab your glass and take a long sip to brace yourself for his thoughts. you weren't expecting that it would be an easy pill to swallow, he'd probably be realistic about things and tell you to just suck it up and break things off while you could still maintain a shred of dignity.

"i know this is probably not what you want to hear, but i really think you should break up with him."

your lips pressed into a thin line, partly from his assertion but mostly because of the burn of alcohol sliding down your throat. there was definitely much more vodka in this than there should be, but you didn't want to seem weak before him, trying not to shudder as you continued to take small, fast sips.

you nearly spat it up on yourself when his hand settled on the skin of your thigh exposed by your skirt, wide eyes raising to meet his intent gaze. "don't tell me you think a guy that ditches you for just about three months now is worth your time, even without everything else considered."

"everythin' else?" your words were starting to slur together, but you still tried to drown out the dread tangling in your gut with the bubbling contents of the glass.

"you haven't figured it out yet, have you.." he faltered, a slight frown drawing across his lips when you gave a hesitant shake of your head, sighing as he pulled his glasses off of his nose and folded them neatly to place on the coffee table. "think about it; he disappears on you while he was drunk at a party, most likely with hanging around alone with the female friend that's clung onto him for a majority of his life, and then after that night he just completely gives you the cold shoulder, avoids you every time you try and come talk to him, like he's running away from you." he paused, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "like he's hiding something."

you felt your heart sink, biting firmly down on your bottom lip, a thick lump forming in your throat, eyes stinging. "s-so, you're saying th-that—"

you couldn't blink away the first tears as they dribbled down your cheeks, choking back a small sob. he carefully took the nearly empty glass from your hands and replaced it on the coffee table, you could make out the expression of pity drawn across his handsome features through your watery gaze. you didn't protest when the arm closest to you moved to wrap around your waist, the other curling around your shoulder and drawing you against him. restrained sniffles gave way to hiccuped sobs, your own hands linking around his neck and squeezing him tighter against you as you wept out into the empty air behind him.

normally you would've put on a brave face, maybe excused yourself to the bathroom to let out a few silent tears before you returned to thank him and stammer out some excuse to leave and spend the rest of the night wallowing on your own. but the alcohol had melted away any barriers you would've put up against zeke's compassion, made you crave the security his warmth provided as he pressed his face into your shoulder, a large, gentle hand rising to stroke over the crown of your head. he let you cry on your own for a while, not minding how your fingers clutched tightly at his shirt or how your snot and tears wet the pale fabric, petting your hair and rubbing soothingly over your shuddering back.

your adjacent thighs were nearly overlapping each other, but all you could think of was how your hammering heart felt like it was one beat away from bursting at the seams, the dim glow of the lamp in the corner that blurred into a shapeless ball of light, his steady breath fanning across the skin of your neck.

"that asshole doesn't deserve you." he murmured, voice low as his lips ghosted over your shoulder, strong arms fastening their hold around you.

you couldn't help but shudder at the feeling as you sniffed, swallowing down the tension balling in your throat before you managed a shaky reply. "h-he's your brother, i thought you'd b-be on his side.."

"what makes you think i'd be on his side after hearing how he treated you?" his fingers worked their way deeper into your hair, palm cradling the back of your head. you forced yourself not to squirm when his face nestled further into the crook of your neck. "you deserve someone mature, someone who can treat you right.. someone who can make you feel good..."

you let out an alarmed breath at the feeling of a soft kiss over your skin, then another, posture stiffening as your grasp around his neck slackened. "wait, i c-can't," you started, the sudden sensation of his fingers sinking into your waist and drawing you closer against him making you lose your words for a moment, "i haven' officially broken up with eren, just because he might've ch-cheated on me doesn't mean-"

"there's no use trying to deny what he did.. what's done is done, you need to do what's best for you—right here, right now." his voice lowered even further, barely a whisper as he implored, "what do you want to do?"

you bit back a weak sound when his tongue drew a slow lick over the sensitive skin, the involuntary heat stirring between your legs making your thighs clench. this was wrong, you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be letting this happen, an endless stream of muddled thoughts flashed through your mind as you desperately searched for some sort of excuse to buy yourself a few more moments to think. a distant memory popped into your head, the blurry mental image of zeke with his arm draped around a dark-haired woman when you'd dropped by to visit eren just before you'd both moved in on campus.

"g-girlfriend!! don't you have a girlfriend?!" you blurted desperately, a small whimper slipping out of you as he gave a brief suck over your pulse.

"girlfriend?" he paused his motions, chuckling lowly and giving a small shake of his head when he realized who you were thinking of, "oh, pieck? i'd hardly call her a girlfriend, just an old buddy. honestly, it's no wonder you got stuck in this sort of situation, you manage to find an excuse for everything."

you couldn't ruminate on his patronizing tone for longer than a moment before he returned to kissing at the sensitive skin of your neck, testing the waters of your resilience. you were afraid of your responsiveness to his touch, your body's unabashed honesty, afraid of how your protests had devolved into uncertain whimpers and shifts in your seat.

"good girl," he murmured, sending a jolt of heat racing up your spine, "see how easy that was? this is what you want, isn't it?"

you allowed the fingers in your hair to gently tug your head back, exposing more skin to his eager mouth as he teased a bite just under your jaw, drawing a soft whine and an even deeper flush of heat over your cheeks from you. your movements were sluggish, limbs leadened with inebriation falling down easily when he urged you down onto your back. in one slow blink he'd settled on top of you, warm lips melded easily against your own as his fingers began to work at unbuttoning your blouse.

maybe he was right, maybe you just needed to accept that you and eren's time had come to pass and indulge in what you really wanted—and now that he'd made it an option, what you really wanted right now was to feel the warmth of his bare flesh on yours, taste more of the whiskey on his breath as his tongue slid between your teeth, replace every hint of eren that still resided on your skin with his scent of expensive cologne. you could already feel the ache of a forming bruise at the base of your neck, fingers messily tangling in his hair and back arching up to his hands when they began to smooth across your chest, snaking under your body to undo the clasp of your bra.

"you never told me what exactly you wanted, baby.." he murmured over your lips, low-lidded eyes meeting yours, "do you want us to just kiss, or do you want me to touch you?"

"touch me, please.." you mumbled restlessly, quickly becoming impatient with the fact that his hands had halted after slipping the straps of your bra free from your arms and tossing it somewhere behind him to be forgotten.

but even after you answered, he didn't continue, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he gazed down at you. "and then what after that? do you want me to touch you here? his fingers ghosted over the swell of your breasts. "or here?" one hand trailed down the length of your abdomen, forefinger just barely hooking onto the waistline of your skirt and giving it a teasing tug.

"zeke." you whined in frustration, mind foggy with lust and alcohol, uncoordinated hands wrestling with his shirt despite not having undone the buttons first, "you're being mean.."

"sorry," he said without a hint of remorse in his voice, only pride as he returned his hands to your chest, "you're just too easy to tease, so responsive, i'd never get bored of playing with you."

you took it as a compliment, as praise, rather than what it really was. it was easier to think of it like flattery in the moment, to push the obvious reminder that his brother had gotten bored of you out of your mind. despite the implication of such a statement, you couldn't help the odd sense of safety you found in such an equivocal intimacy, hazy, not sound of mind, not entirely yourself as you offered him your body, his to kiss and grab and bruise if only for the night.

you hummed with approval when his lips trailed down to the valley of your chest, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your breasts, but making a point to avoid your nipples, only further denying you the stimulation that you thought he'd finally assured you with that last arrogant taunt. you could feel his smile on your skin, nearly huffing at the realization that you couldn't squeeze your thighs together to give yourself some friction with him positioned between them like he was, buzzing with warmth yet entirely unfulfilled.

"patience is a virtue.." he murmured sagely, unfazed by your second sound of annoyance.

"what about trying to fuck your brother's girlfriend is virtuous." you bit back, momentary anger leaving you in a surprised pant as he gave a gentle tug to one of your nipples.

"ex-girlfriend." he corrected after a quiet chuckle at your forthrightness, mouth closing around the pert bud not being rolled between his slender fingers.

you moaned out a soft curse, hand threading back into his thick hair and pressing him further against you. the fog that had been momentarily sobered clouding your senses once more, hips rutting up into nothing as he worshipped your skin with his lips, teeth, and tongue. you felt the spark fully reignite when one hand moved back down your stomach to wrestle with the button of your skirt, the zipper sliding down easily after it was undone, fingers delving under the loosened waistline to palm at you through your underwear. he pulled away from your nipple with one last gentle bite over the tender skin, low voice at a husky mutter.

"have you ever had sex before?"

you quickly nodded down at him, seeing your own dazed stare reflected in his darkened eyes, pupils almost entirely overtaking the cool grey.

"was it with him?"

you swallowed thickly, suddenly finding yourself unable to meet his gaze, turning away to focus on your long finished drink on the coffee table, ice already half melted in the sweating glass. "yes." you barely whispered.

"was it good?"

you bit the inside of your cheek, blinking fast, trying to dispel the blanket of unease that was quickly settling over you, suffocating you. you only answered with a non-committal shrug, feeling your face burn with a humiliation that he couldn't have thought such a line of questioning would have not inspired.

he maintained a steady gaze with you for a moment longer, lowering his head back to rest at your shoulder without another word and picking a place on your neck to bite and lick at, fingers rubbing slow circles over the drenched fabric beneath them. a small moan bubbled up in your chest, squirming at just the easy attention over your clit, lids falling shut as your head sank back into the cushioned arm of the sofa.

you sighed out a small whimper of relief when he finally tugged your underwear to the side, fingers instantly slicking with your arousal when they met your bare skin, sliding in with little resistance. he'd started out with just two, but the incessant desire to be filled was quelled for the moment with them, drawing a pathetic mewl out of you when they curled just right within you.

"are you always this excited?"

another question you didn't know the honest answer to, but you shook your head anyways, accompanying it with a weak "n-no" to stroke his ego like you knew he wanted you to. you went stiff with a sudden tension when felt a third finger prodding at your pussy, eyes flying back open as you made a disconcerted sound of protest.

"relax.." he murmured into your shoulder, biting softly over one of the fresher marks, "if you can't handle this, how can you take me?"

you took a shaky breath, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you let your thighs fall open a bit more, doing your best to not clench your muscles. and you could feel how he let out a low groan over your skin when he finally slipped in all three, burying them knuckle-deep, rewarding you with a smattering of open-mouthed kisses across your bruised flesh.

"good girl. good girl." he nipped at your jaw, adjusting the speed of his wrist to match how your hips rolled up to meet his hand, the pad of his thumb rolling firmly over your clit.

you could feel that warm knot in your stomach tangling further, the tantalizing thought of release ebbing every bit of trepidation out of you as you allowed your moans and whines to spill out into the open air, heels digging into the felt of the couch around him. but just moments before you could find your high, his touch gone, and he was rising off of you to sit back on his calves, absentmindedly wiping the wetness from his fingers away on his pants, making quick work of his shirt, standing briefly to kick off his pants and help you out of your displaced bottoms before he settled back over you.

your skin was hot with need against his own, arm linking around his sturdy back and pressing his lips back over yours, letting him guide one leg up against his side as he lined himself up with you. you squeaked when you felt the tip of his cock press into you, hands bracing themselves on his shoulders, wide, unfocused eyes gazing up at him for some sort of reassurance. and that sense of security filled your heaving chest, that knowing look he focused solely on you, only made for you in this moment, forehead pressed to yours, breath fanning over your lips.

a strained, shuddering whine broke from your throat as he eased himself inside of you, inch by inch, barely able to hold your eyes open enough to maintain his fixed stare, mouth falling open in a feeble attempt to gasp back in all the air he'd pushed out of you.

"fuck." he growled lowly, fingers sinking almost painfully into the thigh in his grasp, trying to fit his body as close as it could possibly be to your own.

another sound rumbled out of him from deep in his chest when your nails dug into the firm muscle beneath them, hungry, greedy lips capturing yours. his pace was mercifully slow, given that he was probably just as eager for his own release as you were for yours, but the overwhelming fullness that you felt each time his hips met yours drove whatever tiny breath you'd been able to catch between his kisses.

you spread your legs as far as the narrow space of the couch allowed it, whimpering, feeling how you were already making a dripping mess of your thighs and the fabric beneath you. your heart was practically beating out of your chest, so loud in your ears that you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it too, his mouth catching every pant and moan he drew from you, the steady pace of his movements falling away into an ardent, frenzied rhythm. his mouth strayed back to your neck, grunting and biting into the abused flesh, and without the barrier to muffle your sounds you were whining out into the open space of the apartment, gasping in the air humid with your shared arousal, nails scratching down his back without care for whether they'd leave a mark, only dragging them back across his hot skin over and over again just to hear him groan out your name once more.

you could feel yourself climbing back up towards that delightful precipice, legs wrapping around his body and forcing him deeper into you so he could reach that spot that made white stars burst across the darkness of your close-lidded eyes. you tried to force your mouth to form coherent words, to warn him about how dangerously close you were, but all that spilled from your lips was more breathless sounds, body arching up to press against his as heat scalded over every inch of your bare skin, limbs shuddering and clinging desperately to him as he continued to roughly thrust into you.

tears were pricking at your eyes by the time he moaned a jumbled string of curses into your neck, arms nearly giving out beneath him as he spilled himself inside of you, your chests heaving in an unmatched, ragged unity against each other. he stayed there for a few moments, still inside you, struggling to catch his breath but still pressing the occasional kiss over your neck and shoulders. your fingers released their grasp on him, not realizing how hard you'd been clenching your hands until you felt the stiff ache resonating through your joints.

you tried to murmur something to him, but all that escaped was a weak whimper, legs slipping back down to lay on the couch, arms resting heavy on his back. you hadn't meant to fall asleep so fast, but your head had already been spinning from warm shocks still echoing through every fiber of your body, let alone the alcohol and the sheer physical exertion. you let your eyes fall shut, lids far too heavy to keep open, and slipped away easily into a dreamless slumber.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

zeke blindly reached about for the towel he'd set aside near the sink, finally grabbing it and pressing it to his dripping face, patting his skin and beard dry before tossing it into the hamper by the door. replacing his glasses onto his face, he blinked away the grogginess in his eyes, running his fingers through his hair to flatten it into a somewhat presentable style. he turned to the open door, catching a glimpse of you nestled under the comforter of his bed, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

he'd carried you to his room last night, but didn't get the chance to clean you up until this morning. by then, the bruises that had been an angry shade of red over your neck and chest had settled into your skin and darkened significantly, some bordered by deeper teethmarks that still had yet to fade. you hadn't stirred when he'd pulled the covers away from you for just a few moments, peeling off your underwear that he'd haphazardly replaced on your body to keep the mess to a minimum and gently wiping his cum away from your skin with a wet washcloth. he'd really tired you out, and something about seeing you so exhausted after just one night with him made a flicker of pride swell in his chest.

flicking off the light in the bathroom, he didn't bother to add a shirt over his relaxed attire of just a pair of sweatpants as he left his bedroom, making sure to quietly shut the door behind him.

"rise and shine." his back was still to the kitchen when he heard reiner's voice, turning to face his roommate who was looking at him with a mix of disapproval and curiosity, most likely having gotten a good look at the scratches you left down his skin last night.

"how was your time at bertholdt's?" zeke asked, ignoring reiner's frown as he glossed over his intrigue, wandering over to the fridge to grab some water for himself.

"not great." he grunted, reaching into the cabinet below the stove and fetching a pan, "he decided to invite annie over when he heard i was coming. you can imagine how boring it was to watch those two make eyes at each other the entire night."

zeke chuckled at that, cracking the top off of the cool bottle in his hands and taking a refreshing gulp, glancing at the table and noticing its lack of plates and the leftovers of night-old curry. "oh, you did the dishes. thanks."

"yeah, yeah, just glad you had your fun last night without me having to hear it." he stepped aside to let reiner put a carton of eggs and the butter out of the fridge. "but seriously man? the couch? you're gonna have to get that dry-cleaned or something, and i'm not helping you pay for it either."

"don't worry about it, i'll take care of it." he replied with a lazy smile, quickly adding on to his smooth response, "and be nice, alright? it's someone we know."

"who?" he asked, not at all looking it but obviously interested in his answer, flicking on the gas under the pan and dumping a spoonful of butter into it.

"one of eren's friends." reiner's eyes shot briefly over to him at that, prompting him to give a brief description of you, "remember? you saw her that time we all met up to watch that horror marathon while i still lived with my parents."

"wait.. you told me about her. isn't she dating your brother??"

"was dating my brother." he corrected, rolling his eyes at the disgruntled bewilderment etched across his friends face, "what? i had to show her that this generation of jaegers wasn't a complete disappointment.."

"whatever, man. your business." he finished off his water bottle in silence, watching reiner crack a few eggs in a bowl and whisk them together with a fork, finally breaking the silence with a generous offer. "you want me to make something for her?"

a slight grin broke out across zeke's face, dumping the empty plastic into the recycling bin, slapping reiner's back affectionately. "thought you'd never ask. thanks again, man."

"at your service." was his grumbled, monotone reply, the shadows weighing under his eyes clearly showing how late he'd arrived home last night and how little sleep he'd gotten. zeke was sure that once he'd got some coffee in him he'd cheer up a bit.

he was sure reiner wouldn't be done for another few minutes, so he wandered back into his room, wondering if you'd woken up yet so he could direct you to the shower if you wanted one. in the time that he'd been in the kitchen, you shifted around in bed, having rolled onto your back and knocked the covers away to reveal your bruised chest, hair covering half of your face but still identifiable. perfect.

zeke fished his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, unlocking it and tapping into the camera app, taking a few steps closer to the bed and zooming in a bit before he snapped a picture of you.

10:39 am you you sent an image to eren

eren 10:40 am uhhh did you send that to the wrong person

eren 10:41 am wait hold on who is that zeke who the fuck is that

eren 10:42 am is that my fuckingngirlfrined

you missed a call from eren

eren 10:43 am why the fuck aren't you fuckign picking up

you missed a call from eren (2)

eren 10:45 am holy shit what the fuck this can't be fucking happening zeke what the fuck is wrong wjth you you piece of fucking shit

zeke tapped out of his messages with his brother, sliding over his notifications setting to "do not disturb" before dropping his phone back into his pocket. he couldn't help the low chuckle he let out at his frantic replies. maybe if he'd held the same enthusiasm with you then he wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. moving over to your side of the bed, he took a seat on the mattress beside you, perking up at the sound of your small groan, eyes sleepily fluttering open to gaze up at him.

"g'morning." you murmured, letting out a quiet yawn as you sat up in bed, holding the sheets up to cover your bare chest despite him having already seen you naked.

"how'd you sleep?"

"like a fucking rock." he laughed softly at your bluntness. "my head kinda hurts.. sorry i fell asleep on you last night."

you looked positively adorable right now, and he was glad you weren't panicking or having any second thoughts about him, that you had fully digested the reality of your situation and come to peace with it. well, at least the situation before he'd sent that picture to eren.

"don't worry about it," he assured you, keeping the thought of his brother probably blowing up his phone and leaving the usual voicemails of him screaming at him when he was angry in his inbox, "i'll get you some breakfast soon. need any ibuprofen?"

"yes please." you smiled gratefully up at him, his heart twinged. "and could you grab me my purse? i left it in the kitchen, my roommates probably wondering why i didn't come back last night."

he began to say yes, but thought of how you were probably receiving a similar slew of alarmed messages by this point made him stop. "how about a shower first? you'd probably feel a lot better after that."

you hummed thoughtfully for a few moments, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. "a shower sounds nice.. if you don't mind."

"wouldn't have offered if i did, babe." he grinned at the way your cheeks flushed, waving a hand over to his bathroom door, "shower's in there, plenty of towels on the rack by the tub."

he stood, turning to begin making his way to the door to give you some privacy, but felt your fingers gingerly wrapped around your wrist. "zeke.. thank you. for everything. i've been in a really tough spot for the last few months, and now everything seems... it all seems a lot clearer to me, like i just took the hardest step and it'll be a breeze after this."

your smile was genuinely, infectious, eyes full of gratitude, and had it not been for the heavy news that you would most likely be finding out about within the hour, he probably would've responded with one of equal radiance. but he managed to perk up the corners of his lips for you, tracing back to press a quick kiss over the top of your head.

"at your service."

he was pleased to see that his copied, more charmingly delivered words garnered such a positive response from you. and so he made his way back out into the kitchen, pulling out his phone to briefly check the amount of notifications that had racked up on his lock screen. thirty-six messages and sixteen missed phone calls. damn was that little brat persistent.

despite having essentially thrown you under the bus, he didn't feel any semblance of guilt for the action of having sent that incriminating photograph. the only remorse he felt was for leaving you as the sole recipient to his brother's rage, and the fact that he was starting to feel a strange sort of affinity for you, something lighter and more innocuous than the lust that he had shown you the previous evening. so he slipped over to the dinner table, acknowledging reiner's announcement that your eggs were ready with a short hum, finding your purse exactly where you said it had been.

he could hear the sound of the shower being turned on, and he felt safe unzipping the small bag and rummaging around to fish your phone out from beneath your other belongings. as he'd expected, there were a few missed calls from a "sasha", who he assumed to be your roommate, the messages from "eren <3" quickly beginning to pile up on your home screen. and as the "incoming call" text showed on the screen and the phone began to vibrate, zeke held down on the power button, completely shutting it off before he pocketed the device.

he just had to keep you busy, get you to focus on anything besides your desire to get to your purse and check your phone, or figure out a polite way to quickly shoo you out of the door and get home before you realized that you didn't have it in your bag. he hadn't really planned for this outcome, he usually didn't have this sort of compassion for others when he set his mind to getting something done, but he had a feeling that the extra work would be worth it in the grand scheme of things.

⥼ next chapter

#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x you #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger smut #snk zeke #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x reader smut #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x reader smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- I hate these moodboards sm)

Masterlist. Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst, medical emergency, sexual tension

Chapter 3 Taking Blame

One month later After they'd gotten engaged, Keanu had been politely adamant in insisting that Miranda get to know Matt and Poppy better; take them out, spend time with them after their tutors left for the day and drive them to swim and ballet occasionally. As expected, she'd been reluctant, and even when Miranda did begrudgingly agree, Emma had been asked, or rather persistently urged, to join her. Of course, Miranda had dismissed Keanu when he protested that the entire purpose of her taking them was to spend time with the twins alone, arguing insistently that it was Emma's job to take care of them.

That had been nearly a month ago, and after one trip to the mall, two swim meets, three weekly ballet practices, spent with Emma trailing three paces behind Miranda, holding the children's hands along with whatever bags they had, Miranda had finally agreed to watch the children on her own and Keanu had let Emma have some time off.

Using her time liberally, Emma had gone to lunch with a couple old college friends, and then for a few drinks after. It was past seven when she finally returned, and from the minute she walked through the side door from Keanu's huge garage, the strong aroma of baked goods washed her senses, peaking Emma's curiosity, drawing her towards the kitchen. She didn't think Zelda had stayed that late.

Much to her surprise though, it wasn't the older woman in the kitchen, instead, it was Miranda standing amid the mess, a tray of grayish brownish cookies laid out on the the breakfast bar, dressed casually in white lounge pants and loose lace blouse, some of her hair pined away from her face. Surrounding the tray, was an assortment of ingredients, most of them looking like they'd been bought at a high end organic food shop. "Miranda?" Emma said slowly, beckoning the older woman's attention.

"Emily!" She spun on the absent heel of her ballet pump, and Emma gnawed on her lip to quell her annoyance. It was still extremely irritating when Miranda got her name wrong, but she'd given up on correcting her, deciding that she was more than likely doing it on purpose. "You're home, finally. Zora left….." she trailed off, waving her hand dismissively, "Some time ago, but thankfully you're here to clean up. Try one, they're peanut butter cookies. Totally organic," she shoved the tray closer to Emma.

"Okay," she cringed, wondering how bad organic desserts could be. She'd heard the stories, how they tasted like cardboard, grass and other things that most people wouldn't readily put in their mouths. Miranda stared at her intently, clearly waiting for Emma to take a bite and so, deciding that a cardboard cookie might be easier to endure than her boss's fiancée whining, she nibbled to the edge, just enough to get a taste. Eyes widening in surprise, she went in for a bigger bite, humming at the surprisingly good taste, "This is actually……"

"It's good right? Apparently Keanu thinks you baking is the gold standard or whatever," and once again, Emma wasn't sure if Miranda's compliment was actually a compliment.

Stammering, she just nodded, "It is good, you made them for the kids, do they like them?"

"Mhm!" With a triumphant grin, Miranda started walking out of the kitchen, reaching the mouth of the hall, "They’re in the playroom, and since you're here you can take over now!"

Not even bothering to respond, Emma just shook her head, shrugging off her leather jacket, draping it over a chair at the kitchen table, knowing the sooner she got to work, the better. The first thing she did was start clearing the remaining ingredients from the counter, barely glancing at names and labels until something caught her eye, "Miranda!" Emma yelled, panicked, not caring how upset she'd get, "Miranda!"

Seconds later, she came hustling into the room, muttering about how rude and incompetent hired help could be. "What do you want now?" She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Did you put this in the cookies?" Hastily, she held up a bag half filled with wheat flour, the plastic packing clutched tightly in her fist. Her heart was probably beating a mile as Emma anticipated a response.

"Yeah," Miranda scrunched her nose, still upset by Emma's scolding tone, "So what, it's good-"

"Didn't you read the list?" Already she was dropping the flour, not caring if it spilled, making a bigger mess than before, lunging for her handbag and rummaging for her keys, "Matty, Pop!"

"What list?"

"The fucking allergy list!" Emma sneered, too jolted to stop and worry about Mirada's precious feelings, "It's right there on the fridge,” she pointed hurriedly, and just as she was about to call for the kids again, Matt came running into the room, his face pulled with fright.

“Emma!” He ran past Miranda and straight for her, grabbing her thigh to get Emma's attention, “Come quick, something’s wrong with Poppy! She started coughing and-” He was on the verge of tears and there was an anxious bounce in his stance.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay,” Emma quickly kissed his hair, standing again to go get Poppy, “Everything’s gonna be okay, but I need you to be a big boy and wait by the car for me,” after that mishap, there was absolutely no way in hell that Emma was leaving Matt alone with Miranda, not when she was pretty sure she had a case of anaphylaxis on her hands, “I’m gonna go get Pop, okay?”

Nodding he ran off, and Emma went in the other direction, choking a sob when she reached the playroom, finding Poppy on the floor, gasping for breath, angry red patches on her skin. Without thinking twice, her instincts took over and she scooped the girl up in her arms, laying her head on her shoulder. Cradling Poppy’s head, she ran out to the garage, almost slipping on the tiles in the process, “It’s gonna be okay baby, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?” Tears were hot on her cheeks, but Emma knew that she had other things to worry about, her own emotions could be seen to after.

“What should I do?” Miranda came to stand beside her, wringing her hands as Emma got Matt into the car seat. “I swear I didn’t know that she was allergic-”

“Look I don’t have time for this,” not even realizing that she wasn’t wearing a jacket, Emma was already in the driver’s seat, getting the posh SUV started. Ideally, she should have taken Miranda with her to keep a check on Poppy while they drove to the nearest hospital, but she couldn’t bring herself to deal with the woman while she was also trying to keep Matt calm and his sister alive. Not without starting a fight at least. “Just call Keanu, lock up the house and then meet us at the hospital.”

The automatic door started reeling upwards, and Emma was backing out, “Are you sure I can’t-”

“You’ve done enough Miranda,” She backed out, “We’ll be at L.A General,” and with that, Emma backed into the street, shifting gears and then speeding off, hoping that she’d get to the E.R before it was too late.

Curled up next to Emma in the pale green sofa of the pediatric waiting room, was Matt, fast asleep. It was just past eight, and if they were at home, she knew he’d still be bouncing off walls, nowhere near ready for bedtime, but Emma had passed his tire off as a consequence of the hustle and trauma, it was certainly enough to have her eyes heavy. But Emma couldn’t sleep, not when the doctors hadn't yet come to update her on Poppy’s condition. By then, in just about an hour, she cried, hyperventilated quietly and almost screamed several times. All she could think of was how Poppy having that life threatening reaction was all her fault. She shouldn’t have left Miranda alone with them, she should have told her to read the list, checked on them instead of stalling in the kitchen. Something, anything.

Sitting across from her, on one of the single seats was Miranda herself, worried, though not half as frenzied as Emma. Maybe she was just good at keeping it at bay. They hadn’t spoken since she’d gotten there, instead, Miranda had opted to anxiously flip through magazines provided while Emma had struggled through trying to get Matt to have a sandwich from the cafeteria and a little carton of milk for dinner, almost losing her mind when he fought her, but eventually getting him to have some of it. And like she couldn’t bare to sleep, she was also too sick to her stomach with guilt to eat.

Her thoughts had left her sinking, and when Matt had succumbed to slumber, Emma had let the rest of the room fade to nothing, one mantra playing on loop in her mind, ‘just let that sweet little girl be okay.’ Keanu had been unreachable, so they'd left several voicemails, and Emma vaguely remembered that he’d mentioned that he had a meeting about a movie he'd worked on as a producer and then another with his agent, though, when he came though the white double doors, motorcycle helmet in hand, his eyes were red, his hair a mess there was an urgency in this long strides. “What the hell happened?” Were the first words that tumbled out of his mouth as he looked between Emma and Miranda, who both stood at his entrance.

Immediately, Miranda rushed to his side, sinking into his side and letting his arm go around her waist. Before Emma could process his question, Miranda was the one speaking, “I have no idea,” she shot Emma an unreadable look, though at the last second, there was devilish glimmer in her green eyes, “Emma came home and made them snacks, and next thing I know Poppy’s having a reaction.” Figures that out of all times, Miranda would remember her name, it would be then.

Her jaw hung slack and for the longest minute, Emma was at a complete loss for words. Though, her mind came up with a long list of the things she wanted to say, what the fuck? Being at the very top. “I….” She stuttered, wanting to instantly clear her name. But then, in a rush, Zelda’s words came back to her, Miranda always gets what she wants and stay out of her way. “I…” Even if she did tell the truth, Miranda was Keanu’s fiancée, who would he believe anyway? The hired help or the woman who he wanted to be the mother of his children. Emma was pretty sure she already knew the answer, best not to fight it, especially since she was clearly already on Miranda’s bad side. “I’m sorry,” fighting tears was hard, and the anger that heated up Keanu’s face was frightening, “I didn’t mean to- to- I just-”

Cutting off her stammering, moving his hand from Miranda’s waist, tossing his helmet to a chair and finally running both his hands through his hair. “How could you be so careless?” He hissed loud and venomously, “You could have killed my daughter,” the only reason he wasn’t full on yelling was because Matt was sleeping nearby, but Emma could tell that it was barely holding Keanu back and the low tone didn’t make his words sting less. “There’s a list for a reason, you know that. But now, my daughter is in the hospital because you were careless! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I am so, so sorry Keanu,” hot tears streamed down her face, from tired burning eyes. Her hiccupped breaths made Emma feel like a child being scolded at recess and all she wanted to do was have a fissure in the floor open up and swallow her. “I would never hurt Poppy, not intentionally, and I swear, as soon as it happened-”

“She came and told me,” Miranda interjected, intent on only making the situation worse, a hint of a smirk threatening to twist her lips, “And I told her that she had to take the children to the hospital immediately. Poppy could have died, for God’s sakes!”

A strangled sob threatened to wake Matt, and Emma had to clasp her hand over her mouth. How could someone be so outrightly vicious, going as far as shoving the blame on another person. “Maybe hiring you was a mistake,” Keanu determined, and Emma’s eyes went wide, definitely not prepared for what came next, “Maybe we need to reconsider you as their nanny.”

“What?” Emma swallowed thickly, that couldn't be it. From the minute they met she knew that Miranda hadn’t liked her, but fired? Never seeing the twins again or Keanu, she didn’t think it would go that far. “Please don’t-”

“I think you’ve said enough,” Keanu raised his hand, motioning for Emma to stop, passing it over his face before turning away.

Emma needed that job, and she adored those kids. Hell, she might have even been falling for Keanu, but she was not prepared to be humiliated even further. And maybe, if Miranda was going to be a permanent part of the Reeves household, it was better that she didn’t stick around. She could put up with a lot, but being someone for an entitled celebrity to cast undue blame on wasn’t one of them. Passive aggressive insults, snide remakes, being a bag holding mouse and walked all over, she could take. But being humiliated in public, for something she hadn’t done? Being treated like she was an inept child and not worthy of having an explanation or a chance to clear her name? That was where she drew the line.

“You know what Keanu,” Emma felt around her bag, eventually pulling out the keys for the SUV that she used to drive around the kids, “Miranda,” she hissed vehemently, “Maybe I should save you both some time,” finding a spot of courage, she strode up to him, Emma shoved the keys to Keanu’s chest, not caring if he got a hold of them or not, “Cause I quit.”

From the minute he held the keys in his grasp, feeling her fingers brush his and subsequently watching Emma walking out of the waiting room, Keanu knew he’d made a mistake. Emma couldn’t just leave, his children adored her, he…...well, he wasn’t too sure about what he felt for her, but he did know that he didn’t want to lose her. The whole firing quip had been an empty threat, fueled by stress and anger. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “Mandy, you stay here,” he started walking off, hoping to catch Emma before she could leave the hospital.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his bicep, “You can’t just leave me here with him,” Miranda gestured to Matt, still curled up sleeping, not knowing that the nanny that he’d started looking up to had just walked out on them, and it was all his father’s fault. “Besides,” she reasoned, tone even and cool, “If she wants to leave, you should let her. She’s lazy and irresponsible.”

“Wha- no,” Keanu shook off Miranda's grip and by extension, her words, “Emma is not lazy, she works her ass off for my kids, and irresponsible? It was a mistake,” in an instant, his mind was changing and Keanu was regretting the way he’d handled things with Emma. She was obviously devastated knowing that she’d put Poppy at risk, and he had just made it worse, “Allergies happen, she has to learn. And I do too. I'm sorry,” he began the walk to the doors, “But I have to go find her.”

Keanu hadn’t meant for things to go awry, or to force Emma to quit, but he had just been so upset; worry and fear morphing into anger, causing him to lash out. In her three months with their family, that was the first time that she’d made any sort of mistake. Emma had probably committed the list memory and believing that she could make such a careless mistake was becoming increasingly hard. It just didn’t make sense. Emma treated his kids like they were her own, and that was only one of the many reasons why Keanu couldn’t lose her.

Thankfully though, he was able to catch up to her just as she was headed for the curb, arms wrapped around herself to combat the night’s chill, her sleeveless cotton shirt, with a little knot over her navel not really doing her any favors. “Em!” He jogged up to her, speeding up when she walked faster, “Emma, please, just wait.”

“What?” She turned, olive cheeks tear stained and taking on a reddish tint, illuminated by the street laps lining the parking lot, rage and hurt intermingling, “What do you want?” She heaved, and Keanu hated that he’d made her cry. She didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve anything he’s given her back there. Emma was a marvelous person, who was exceptional at her job.

“I’m sorry,” Keanu breathed, shaking his head, stepping closer, “You’re the best nanny Matt and Poppy have ever had; they love you, they listen to you and they’d miss you a damn lot if you left. I’d miss you,” his features softened, his eyes pleading, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that, I wasn’t even there and mistakes happen. I know that you wouldn’t put either of my kids in danger,” he slumped his shoulders, and Emma looked away, swiping at her eyes. She was fighting shivers too, Keanu could see it; it had rained earlier that day, and a distinct dampness along with an uncharacteristic chill still hung in the air. Not thinking much of it, just not wanting her to catch a cold, Keanu shrugged off his riding jacket, stepping closer and reaching around Emma to drape it over her slender shoulders, taking the opportunity to grip them after, “Please don’t leave us Em. I'm begging you.”

“I’ll stay,” she clenched her jaw, wiggling out of Keanu’s grip, “But not for you, I’m staying for those kids. And next time you want to accuse me of trying to kill one of your children, maybe you should dig a little deeper first."

“What?” Knitting his brows, Keanu watched as she started towards the hospital’s entrance, his coat swallowing up her frame, not even offering one backwards glass before going through the automatic doors.

Three Days Later The house had been exceptionally quiet since they’d returned from the hospital, Keanu had asked Emma to tell the tutors to take the rest of the week off, and Poppy had been recovering with her brother almost constantly at her side. The doctor warned them that Poppy’s allergy to wheat could have been deadly if they hadn’t gotten there sooner, and when Keanu had hugged Miranda in relief, while Emma was still wearing his jacket, she had to pretend it didn’t sting.

As a direct, though relieving side effect though, Miranda had been actively avoiding her, and Emma could tell that Keanu was too. That was, until late one evening, after Emma had put the kids down for an early bedtime and had resigned to her own room, getting into comfortable shorts and a loose camisole after her hot shower, deciding that a glass of wine and a movie on her laptop would be the perfect end to an easy Friday. The knock on her door and been soft, lacking urgency, and when she pulled it open, seeing Keanu on the other side, she was actually surprised, “Keanu?”

“Hey,” he smiled sheepishly, dressed like he’d just come home, still in his jacket and everything. The same one he’d lent her back at the hospital. She wondered if he’d washed it, or if he had let the fading scent of her favorite perfume linger against his skin.

Before he spoke again, Keanu faltered, almost losing himself as he drank her in, tiny cotton shorts boasting her smooth, toned legs, the fabric of her top stretched across her chest and Emma's long, drying tresses swept over one shoulder, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed. A wedding band that hung on a thin gold necklace settled against her skin, Keanu knew it was her father's, she'd mentioned when he asked if it belonged to someone else, someone like a husband. Remembering himself, Keanu took in a breath, trying to pull himself out of the trance that he'd fallen into, “Can I come in?”

Nodding, Emma stepped back, pulling the door open a little more, “Your house, your bedroom,” she tried to return his smile, still feeling the tension between them, not sure if it was a good tense or a bad one.

“It’s your room,” Keanu countered, serious, though not harsh, “As long as you’re here with us, its your home too, and your room.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he bent his head, dark mane curtaining his handsome face, smile fading. “I think I owe you an apology,” he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “No, I know I owe you an apology.”

“Keanu-” Emma tried to stop him, though he cut her off, not the way he had the last time, that night, it was softer, as he pleaded with her to just hear him out.

“I really need to say this,” Keanu raised his head, his whiskey gaze meeting her hazel orbs, and he tentatively toed a step closer, “What I said the other night at the hospital, I was way out of line,” he sighed, going slow so so he wouldn’t fumble over his words, “What I’m trying to say now is; I know it wasn’t you that caused the reaction.”

“What?” Baffled, and immensely relieved, Emma felt a mountain of stress that she hadn’t known was there, rolling off her shoulders, “How?”

Chuckling dryly, Keanu shook his head, moistening his lips, “When I came home, and saw those cookies, I knew it couldn’t have been you. I mean, you bake, but not with organic peanut butter and almond milk. I had my suspicions back at the hospital, you probably know that list better than the back of your hand,” he raked his nails through his beard, “And then I asked Matt, and he told me that it was Miranda that made the cookies. So I'm really, really sorry, about all of that.”

“Oh,” the soft exhale left Emma’s parted lips, and truly, she couldn’t believe that she was actually getting an apology from her boss. Not sure of how to proceed, she gnawed on her lip for a second, “What’re you gonna do?”

Huffing, Keanu smirked, “Nothing. Knowing Mandy, she’d just deny it anyway. Besides, it was an accident,” If Emma wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn he sounded a little bitter.

“Thank you,” Emma smiled, happy when Keanu returned the gesture, “I know you didn’t have to apologize, but it means a lot to me that you did.”

“Uh, yeah,” grinning breathlessly, they lingered like that for a moment, until the air grew flustered, and Keanu noticed her wine glass on the nightstand and computer on the made bed, mumbling about how he should get out of her hair.

Though, when he was on his way out of Emma’s room, he absently grabbed his right shoulder, rubbing and rolling the joint, “You okay?” She halted him, “That looks like it hurts.”

“Yeah,” he winced, trying to downplay it, even if Emma could see right through his façade, “Went to the gym this morning, now I’m starting to think that my trainer was right when she said I’ve stayed away for too long. Nothing to worry about though, just a little sore.”

“Maybe I can help,” she had no idea where the suggestion came from, or why she hadn’t tried harder to keep it inside, but there was really no going back anyway. Clearing her throat, Emma blushed, “Why don’t you take off your jacket, and sit on the bed?”

Just as flustered, Keanu inhaled deeply, wanting to oblige, but not sure if he should, “You don’t have to-”

“I want too,” taking initiative, Emma approached him, leaning up on her toes, her eye line barely meeting the back of his neck as she urged his jacket off, folding it in half and draping it over the arm of an accent chair. His biceps strained against the sleeves and Emma swallowed the little flirtatious comment that sat at the tip of her tongue. “Sit, please. I insist.”

Nodding, Keanu went over to bed, sitting on the edge as instructed and then watching intently as Emma crawled up behind him. Her bare knees grazed him as she adjusted herself, and it wasn’t long before he felt her small hands on his shoulders, kneading slowly. Her fingers applied the perfect amount of pressure, and when she rubbed the base of her palms over them, the sensation was close to orgasmic, “Shit, Em…..” Keanu groaned, feeling the tension start dribbling away, “That is…..amazing.”

Giggling musically, she just carried on. The muscles beneath his t-shirt were far firmer than what she expected from someone his age, and touching him like that, seemed more intimate than Emma had intended. “That’s good, cause you are so tense. You’ve gotta take it easy Keanu,” she chuckled.

“I know, its just….I’ve got a lot on my plate,” he voice dropped lower as he closed his eyes, submitting to the pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d let someone take care of him like that, since someone even offered to take care of him like that, and not even Miranda’s touch felt that way, so warm and soothing. Keanu would be lying if he said he was okay with it ending. “I’m just glad I have you though.”

“Oh?” Emma slowed down, leaning forward so her unrestrained breasts were pressed against Keanu’s back when her face reached the side of his. By the time he turned to face her, their lips were a mere inch apart, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to just kiss him. “Well I’m glad I’m here for you,” she whispered, her hot breath fanning his face.

“I need to ask you something,” Emma could have sworn that Keanu was leaning in, and his eyes searched hers, longing reflected.

Mesmerized, Emma barely registered his words, only anticipating what she thought might come next, “Okay.”

“I uh….” his gaze fell on her perfect, plump lips, “I was just wondering, would you go to Paris with me?” Her heart leapt and while it wasn’t the question she’d been hoping for, Emma was already excited, “With me and the kids I mean.” Suddenly, as fast as it was created, the moment was gone, and embarrassed, Emma pulled away, trying to refocus her attention of Keanu’s stiff shoulders, “I have to be there by next month for a premiere, and since I’m gonna be spending my birthday there, I thought I’d take Matt and Poppy too. Obviously, if you have other obligations here, I wouldn’t want you to leave them.”

Disappointed and confused, Emma’s response was void of enthusiasm, “No, no I don’t,” swallowing tightly, she tried not to cry, hoping her shame wasn’t audible, “I’d love to go, part of the job, right?”

Keanu took a minute before he responded, though, when he did, his somber tone seemed to reflected hers, “Yeah, I guess so.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #nanny au #fanfic #fanfiction #keanu reeves au #au

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local80smotel · 4 years ago

Text

Tears and kisses

pairing; V x reader

summary; V & the reader's friendship started on him being injured and their relationship would start with that too.

requested by; @peachesandbb

rating; T

warnings; mention of blood (but never described)

word count; 2,663

A/N; I'm so sorry this took so long but I had a lot of fun with this! Thank you for requesting!

Y/N's lungs burned as they ran deeper into the alleyways of London, holding their heels in their hands. How were they supposed to know the creep they punched was a member of the Fingermen? Maybe wearing heels tonight was a bad idea but hey, no one thinks that they're going to be chased by madmen who were drunk with power at 8:30 pm. 'Shit' they thought, glancing at the street clocks '30 minutes untile curfew'. If they didn't get home soon that would just be another nail in the coffin for this English citizen.

The fleeing criminal didn't look back until they heard a loud, panic-filled scream followed with a thud. When they did, they were shocked by the scene in front– well behind them. There, taking out the Fingermen with such ease, was a pure black figure wearing a mask and an outdated hat. The hat or the mask wasn't the thing that confused Y/N, it was the fact this street vigilante was flinging these six-foot men like they were rag dolls. As embarrassing as it sounds, Y/N just stood there, stuck in some kind of awestruck daze until the ringing of a gun blast drew them out of it.

All they could cry out was a "No!" As they were still glued to the alley street. The masked figure only let out a pained grunt before taking out the shooter with one of his many knives. He stood there for a moment, their back only facing Y/N. They could tell even in the dark that this vigilante was seeing if the bullet was an exit wound or not.

“Hello?” they stepped closer to the caped hero “Are you hurt badly?”

Y/N's hero turned to them, obviously flustered as they tripped on their words as they tried to answer back.

“Uh-” He tried to bow but only winced in pain which stopped him from doing so “I would say so, but," he chuckled softly under his breath “as you can barely tell, I'm bleeding.”

Y/N rushed over to them ignoring common sense which yelled for them not to go to the man who had just taken out four men all by himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” they asked as they searched for the wound and see if there was an exit wound as well

“I know I haven't introduced you as I have to others, but could you be as kind as to let me into your home?” It was easy to tell the awkwardness and anxiousness in his voice. He shook his head before trying to continue his sentence, probably to backtrack and apologize but Y/N stopped them as they nodded before looking back at the street clock.

“We have sixteen minutes till curfew, we have to hurry. Can you run?”

The man nodded as he placed a hand on his wound before saying "Lead the way".

Luckily, it seemed that the secret police had vanished as they made way back to their apartment. They couldn't help but feel responsible for this poor civilian's injury. 'I could have outrun them. He didn't need to intervene like that.' They thought as they looked over at him. Now that they were closer to the street they should see where the wound truly was, his left shoulder. Y/N couldn't help but sigh in relief which rewarded them a confused head tilt from their guest. Hopefully, it hadn't hit any important nerves, muscle, or bone and they'd feel safe putting their hero on the street once a more.

Things between them things were quiet until they got to their apartment building's door. There, right on the porch of the brick establishment, he muttered a word as he was noticeably starting to get lightheaded due to blood loss.

“V...”

“V? Is that the name of the street you liv-”

“Name. That's my name.

All they could say was "oh" as they opened the door and started up the stairs. It was easy to tell he was getting grumpy as well. Who knew that was also a symptom of blood loss. When they both were greeted with their apartment door Y/N wasted no time opening said door and pulling this masked hero into it, making sure not to pull the injured side, and made a b-line to the bathroom. There, like most normal people they kept their medical supplies stored.

V stepped into the room first and before the host could follow he closed the door.

“Hey!” they yelled as they lightly slammed their hand into the bathroom door “What gives?”

“I- uh, please forgive me but I can take it from here!”

Y/N huffed as he spoke, feeling slightly insulted that they couldn't go into the bathroom they paid for. They were taken away from their irritated thoughts when V spoke again around three minutes later.

“Could you stay? Sit by the door I mean.”

“Why?” they shot back as they somewhat snapped. V waited for a moment before answering.

“Just... Nervous that's all.” His soothing British accent made the hair on Y/N's neck stand up “I can understand if you say no– I did lock you out of your own bathroom.”

“No! No, no it's okay.” They began to slide down the wall so they could sit. The quietness sneaked in as Y/N brought their knees to their chin. Small sounds like him hissing at the pain from rubbing alcohol and him rummaging for more supplies were the only things that broke said silence until he mumbled out four words;

“Would you help me...?”

The apartment's owner sighed as they got up, jittering the doorknob “Sure if you can unlock it.”

Again, it took him a few moments before a small click happened but they weren't annoyed or upset at the wait as they knew he was probably in more pain. When they opened the door they were greeted to V who now was shirtless with their back facing them. The wound wasn't the thing that caught Y/N's eye, but instead, it was the fact his body was so heavily burned. It made sense why he wanted to patch himself up now! They couldn't help but place their fingertips gently on his back which caused him the tense up.

“Need help wrapping the bandages?”

He nodded, still not looking at them which made it easier to tell that he was truly embarrassed.

Y/N looked closely at the wound, sighing in relief as it seemed that the bullet hadn't lodged itself inside any of the muscle and started wrapping the medical bandages, trying to make sure that it wasn't too tight. In an attempt to relax V they tried to make conversation about his burns. He was quick to say that he "didn't remember" how he got them which Y/N couldn't believe but dropped the subject and onto a new one; why he saved them.

“I watched you– just to make sure you got him safe– and I saw them. Harass you I mean.” he looked back at the bandage work, seemingly pleased with their work before talking once more “You threw a good punch though.”

Y/N couldn't help but blush at the compliment as they stood up “Thank you, V. Come back if you ever need help.”

When V left they couldn't help but feel that their apartment was, well, empty. That night as they laid in bed they secretly hoped he'd come back again and oh boy, would he do exactly that.

Almost three months into their budding friendship they were woken up in the middle of the night to pounding at their door. Fear washed over them like a wave as they opened the door, scared the police had come to take them away for some petty thing.

“Oh! V!” they smiled in relief along with joy as they got to see their good friend after waiting for almost one and a half months to see him again. “Come in!” they moved out of the doorframe, still smiling like a goof until they looked at the floor. Blood. Once again their dear friend had gotten himself hurt. Their heart sank as they looked back at him who was already in the bathroom except for this time he didn't lock the door like he did the first time he came here.

“Really V? This is the third time in a year,” they said with concern in their voice as they walked in the bathroom, undressing him to see the wound which turned out to be a stab wound in his upper abdomen. Luckily it didn't hit anything vital.

“Maybe you just get yourself hurt to see me..” they mumbled as they pressed a cold washcloth on him. Sure they said it was a joke but somewhere, deep down inside them, they wished it was true. V grunted as a response once rubbing alcohol was introduced to the stab injury, turning their head away from them before actually speaking.

“Come with me. Back to my place.”

Y/N turned red when they finally processed his words. Why? How? Where does he even live? Truly they wanted to say "yes" right then and there but they just couldn't.

What about their apartment? Their plants and mail? Sure, they didn't have anything important in their home like a pet but still, moving (especially when they've never seen the place) is both scary and draining.

“Why? V you know you're always welcomed in my home.”

He took Y/N hand's and placed it on his face so his "cheek" was cupped before answering their question

“One day Y/N they'll follow me back here and because you're helping me, ” he coughed “they'll take you away too. I want to make sure you're completely safe. You're important to me.”

Y/N's ears felt hot once V was done talking. They thought for a moment as they inspected the wound to see if it needed stitches. Maybe he was right and living with him would be a good idea. Hell even it wasn't like he only came to their place for safety as well as they couldn't count how many times they opened their door just to see items like water bottles or bags of fresh bread (with a V drawn on them of course) and due to that, it was clear that he did care for them.

Y/N sighed as they locked eyes with V “Ill go with you, V. Let me pack up first.”

They could tell he was happy as he rubbed his face a bit deeper into their hand.

A few hours later at one AM the two of them hurried out of the building, carrying a few duffle bags as they did so. Y/N as they walked couldn't help but glance down at the man's hands as he carried both bags.

“I can carry them V...”

“Nonsense! I'm just doing what a gentleman would do.”

They couldn't help but roll their eyes at this. For being an absolute tank he still tried to act all soft, guess that was another reason they liked them.

As they walked they teased one another, trying not to laugh so they wouldn't alert the police as they were very much out against curfew. That night Y/N learned that V loved stars which just added on to the cuteness factor of him.

“What is this?” they asked in confusion once they stopped in front of Victorian Station “V this place has been abandoned for years.”

“Exactly my comrade!” He smiled as he placed the bags on the sidewalk and opened the doors to Y/N's surprise “A secret treasure I like to call it, now come along you're probably exhausted.”

The two descended into the dark depths which V seemed to be used to. Y/N finally got to carry a bag but it was only so V could use his free hand to guide them in the dark as he had a hand on their shoulder.

As the door opened they were shocked to see the inside completely decorated. It was easy to see V was a big art nerd as classic paintings hung from the ceiling and loved literature once they saw their new room as books were piled all the way to the ceiling.

“I'm sorry if it isn't to your liking.” He said as he placed down the bag in his hand

“No no, it's amazing. Thank you, V.”

Before he left the room Y/N placed a kiss on the metal mask's cheek. V didn't stop to ask why but merely turned his head to look at Y/N who was busy unpacking their clothes now.

For the next two years, V came home with no injuries to Y/N's happiness. It was easy when it came to them bonded as V showed them his favorite movies and how to cook. Their relationship also deepened when the talk of politics came up. Sure, it was slightly concerning for them how V loved the idea of anarchy. But one thing was for certain; they both hated Sutler with a burning passion. Nothing outright romantic happened between them, BUT the night that marked their two years of friendship while having a movie marathon, Y/N laid their head somewhat near his shoulder as they began to fall asleep. V, even though he felt slightly awkward due to this situation, played with the tips of their friend's hair until the movie ended. He didn't move them back to their room, instead, to make sure V didn't wake Y/N, laid their head on a pillow and gave them a blanket before leaving the gallery. Like two years ago Y/N was startled wake around four AM to V slamming the door shut while grunting and mumbling to himself.

“V?” their voice was almost a whisper as they got up slowly and followed him

“Ah Y/N, I'm sorry for waking you.” he turned to them as he held his left side. It was easy to tell that he was nervous. When they finally got to see what was wrong their blood felt like it was being boiled. He had gotten himself hurt again! There was no blood but it was easy to tell he had broken something. He was always being reckless, didn't he know they cared for him? It just wasn't fair!

“Do I not matter to you?!” they snapped as tears threatened to fail as they grabbed the home's first aid.

“You haven't done this in so long V! Why now? Have I done something wrong? V–”

Before the could finish their rant V slammed his "lips" unto Y/N's whose eyes widen. They felt frozen for a few seconds until they wrapped their arms around them, running their fingers through his hair as they closed their eyes. To Y/N's sadness, they couldn't deepen the kiss due to his mask so holding him close was all they could do but it made them just as happy. When the two broke the kiss Y/N laid their head in the crook of his neck as they stayed silent for a few moments before they broke the silence.

“Can I say something?”

“Of course love.”

“I love you...” They held V's hand as they spoke in a whisper “I have for a while.”

V moved their head out of his crook and lifted their chin to look them in his eye before kissing them on the forehead

“And so have I.”

#imagine #imagine requests #v for vendetta #v for vendetta imagine #v for vendetta x reader

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thewalkingfanfictions · 5 years ago

Text

Softly, Barely a Whisper -- Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (part one)

Softly, Barely a Whisper — Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (pre apocalypse) (part one)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

Description: (Name) moved in with her uncle, the Sheriff of a little town in Northern Georgia, to escape an abusive household. While living with her uncle, she meets Daryl, a redneck with a heart of gold and a life very similar hers. Fluff and angst and awkward shy Daryl Dixon ensue.

⚠Warning⚠: great amounts of bad language, past mentions of abuse, past mentions of rape, there's probably more, this'n's kinda a mess. Don't read if you get triggered easily.

Genre: angsty fluff?? Hurt/comfort?? I've no idea. Is awkward Daryl a genre?

Pairing: teen!Daryl Dixon x teen!fem!abused!reader

A/N: hey, sorry I've been gone for forever, I suck at commitment. I also suck at naming things, hence the title. I wrote another long motherfucker of a "oneshot" and therefore am breaking it into chapters like I did with Impromptu Cuddles, so look out for the other chapters soon enough. Enjoy.

Words without A/N: 3242

<—————————————>

"Sure thing, Daryl. You can use whatever ya'd like, just make sure you put it back afterwards. The doors unlocked and yer more than welcome to go in for a drink or anythin' if ya need it." Bill Coleman, or Sheriff Coleman, as most knew him by, called out as he moved to open the door to his cruiser.

The Sheriff was an interesting character to the youngest Dixon. He had hardened features and a voice like a gravel truck that immediately implied a harsh disposition, his eyes were constantly squinted into a look that resembled judgment, and the vibe he gave off was just generally unpleasant; but, in all reality, Bill Coleman was probably the gentlest man Daryl had ever met. He understood the workings of the Dixon household without ever having to be told, and did what he could to make life any bit easier for the teenager. Whether that be arresting the senior Dixon whenever he found possible, or offering Daryl a place to stay in his home over the weekend. Bill was, all in all, a genuinely kind human being. Something, Daryl found, was rather rare in his life.

But, even though the Sheriff had his trust, and he knew the Sheriff trusted him the same, it still came as a bit of a shock to him to see the officer willingly let him, a Dixon, have open access to his house while no one else was home.

Everyone knew not to trust a Dixon. Nobody in the town was willing to make eye contact with him, let alone trust him to their house and belongings while they were away. Will, his father, had done a fine job of destroying the family name in his drunken escapades, and his brothers addictions did nothing to help. This, combined with the confusion and disbelief that coursed through his system, explained the gawk the boy's eyes held as he stared in awe at Mr. Coleman's retreating figure.

This had to be some kind of trick, right?

"Oh," the Sheriff called. There it was, the part where he'd laugh it off and say "just kidding. Like I'd let a freak like you into my home without supervision."

Once again surprising the young man, his expectation was the farthest thing from what the greying man actually said.

"I fergot ta mention my niece, my sisters kid. She'll be here soon enough, gets off work in a half hour or so. She's been stayin' with me since, ah–" he trailed off a bit, one leg up in the cruiser, the other still planted firmly on the ground as he looked at Daryl over the door's window, looking mildly uncomfortable "–well, she's jus' stayin' with me. She's real sweet, you'll prolly get along with 'er. Jus', eh, just be soft, ya hear? She's a bit skittish, and real shy, too, so don't be too offended if she avoids ya, she don't mean it rude like."

And what on earth could he mean by that? The avoiding that he'd done when describing why she was here, what had happened that he didn't want to talk about? Daryl had a few theories already.

"'Till later, Daryl. Take care, and remember what I told ya, boy." With a wave and a caring (or warning, he could never quite tell with the old man) smile, the grizzled man pulled out of the small driveway and onto the road leading out of the trailer park to go do his civic duty, leaving a still heavily confused, and now slightly concerned, Daryl Dixon standing outside of his garage.

This man, knowing his family's history with bad habits, was not only willing to let the teenager into his home without a watchful eye, but was also perfectly okay knowing he'd be there, alone, with his (skittish and shy) niece?

Maybe the old man is finally losing it, he thought.

Still in shock, the young man turned on his heel, and began the short trek back to the shedd to continue working on the pickup that he had been working on fixing up. Though it was really nothing but a shell sitting on bricks right now, he knew that someday it'd be his pride and joy.

Some uncounted amount of time later, Daryl was finally pulling himself out from under the hood. His throat itched with dryness, and he was covered in sweat from the never-ending harshness of the Georgian sun, but, nonetheless, he couldn't help the little spike of pride that ran through him as he looked down at the beginnings of the new-made guts of his pickup. Allowing himself the luxury of a small smile, he decided he'd finally take the old Sheriff up on his offer, and moved to head into the house to grab something to wet his throat, and maybe even a rag to wipe off his face, if he was feeling risky.

He found, upon entry, that the house was relatively clean. Cleaner than it had been the last time he'd been in there, at least, and only as clean as an old trailer house could really get.

Still, where before there had been newspapers scattered, now there were none, and in place of the cluttered kitchen was a clean countertop and a basket of fresh apples. He didn't dwell on it a whole lot as he moved to the sink to fill up a plastic solo cup, though he did wonder if Bill would mind if he stole an apple. The young Dixon couldn't really remember the last time he'd eaten.

Filling his cup, he was quick to chug it down, the cold a dramatic (but welcome) shock against the harsh dryness of his throat. He let the water run into the sinks basin as he filled the cup up again, again, and then one more time, and only on his fifth return to the water did he realize the difference in sound. A few inches of water was backed up in the bottom of the sink, refusing to go down the drain like it should, and completely changing the sound the water pouring from the faucet made as it headed downwards.

Quickly setting the cup aside and turning off the faucet, he watched the water make its incredibly slow decent into the drain, and decided he needed to pay back Sheriff Coleman's hospitality. It was the least he could do, after all.

Opening the doors that lead to the plumbing beneath the sink, Daryl set himself to work.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

"Good night, (name)!" Mr. Sennet's overly cheery voice called to the young woman as she moved her way through the front doors of the diner.

Calling out a quick goodbye to him as well, she hurriedly climbed into her rig. A shitty little Honda though she was, she still got the young (name) from a to b, and (name) would be forever grateful to her uncle for gifting it to her.

Dusk was just beginning to settle as she took off towards her new residence, and she worried slightly if her uncle would be angry that she was out later than usual. The diner had been busier tonight than normal, and instead of getting off at seven, as per usual, it was now closer to nine.

Taking a calming breath, she reminded herself aloud:

"He's not like they were, he won't be mad at you. He's not like them, he won't be mad."

Though she really did believe it, she still repeated it aloud to herself the entire way back to the house, as if she thought she could will it into existence if she hoped hard enough.

It was silly, she knew, but she didn't really care. After all she'd been through, she thought she deserved a little self reassurance.

The drive to her new home was short lived, though she didn't much mind. She hated to be alone now, it gave her too much time to think, and far too much time to overthink. A regular pastime of hers, it seemed.

It was odd, really. Before, when it was just her and the chromed glass house and the bruising voices, before she was taken away by her uncle, she loved to be alone. She cherished the times of peace she had between the hurt. Now, if she was alone for more than thirty minutes, it was likely she'd be found having a mental breakdown in a bathtub.

But, enough of the depressing stuff.

As the scarred girl pulled into the driveway, she didn't notice the second pair of tracks that accompanied her uncles, as she was far too wrapped up in her head. Something she'd be sure to kick herself for at a later date. She didn't notice the single light that was on in the kitchen, either, nor did she pay mind to the tools that lay neatly around their box as she passed the shedd that functioned as a garage, and she simply put the shell of a pickup truck that sat just outside off as another of her uncles pastimes. Opening and stepping through the front door, she didn't even notice the smudge of mud off the sole of someone's shoe that was left on the carpet.

She did, however, definitely notice the way the hair on the back if her neck stood to attention at the sound of a voice that most definitely wasn't the Sheriffs cursing angrily from the kitchen. Metal clinking to the ground and a tapping on something that echoed like tubing followed behind the exclamation, and (name) felt herself seize up in fear.

"It can't be them," she reminded herself silently, "it isn't them, it can't be."

Swallowing her fear, trying desperately not to let the tears that branded the backs of her eyes build enough to fall, (name) forced herself to move farther into the room, grabbing the aluminum baseball bat that resided behind the door and dropping her bag by a table near the door as she did.

Thinking back to the little bit of self defence that Bill had taught her upon her moving in, she pulled the bat to her side to keep it close enough that no one could easily pull it from her grasp, but could still cause some damage if shoved forwards hard enough.

Sneaking around the corner of the refrigerator that hid the person from view, she took a deep, calming breath before poking her head around to take a peek.

He was young, she could tell, likely not much older than herself. Shaggy, brown-blond hair nearly reached broad shoulders, and even though he was hunched over beneath the kitchen sink, she could still tell he was much larger than her. Muscles flexed under a sleeveless button-down shirt as he twisted a wrench against the plumbing under the basin, grunting lightly as he did.

He didn't seem like he was there to cause trouble, she figured. Who in their right minds broke into a house just to fix their backed up sink? Oh dear, maybe he's not in his right mind? What if they sent him and he's here to kill the girl? What if he was there to bring her back to them somehow? But they were away, they couldn't hurt her, could they? Even from the depths of prison, or the entrapment of the psych ward, the girl didn't really doubt that one of the two could get a word out to have her hurt (killed?) for getting them put away. She was going to die now and she wouldn't even be able to fix the meatloaf that she had planned for tonight's dinner. She felt her body begin to tremble (or perhaps it was already, and she only just then noticed) and her eyes glazed themselves with tears, to her dismay.

Could she swing and knock him unconscious? Could she at least discombobulate the man long enough to escape? Could she really even hurt somebody like that?

Before she could come to a decision, however, the decision came to her.

Away in the living room, a phone rang. The shrill tlrrring! making both bodies jump slightly, and causing the boy bent beneath the kitchen sink to take notice of young (name).

Blue eyes widened as he caught sight of her, baseball bat clutched in hand, and he threw himself backwards and away, slamming his body into the ovens door. Instinctively, his arms moved to guard his face and torso.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!" The loud exclamation startled the girl, and she jumped again, shoving against the refrigerator hard enough to make it rattle dangerously.

~~~~~~~~~~×~~~~~~~~~~

Fixing the plumbing turned out to be far more difficult than Daryl had originally assumed. The bits holding the stuff to the things was rusted on, making it difficult to loosen the thingy mabob and clear anything clogging the that thing.

Putting all of his focus into wrenching the bits away from the stuff, Daryl completely failed to notice the other presence in the room with him, and when the phone in the other room shocked him out if his thoughts, he found his mind immediately assuming it was his father standing there with a weapon in hand.

As his back hit the oven and his arms moved to guard his head, he caught full sight of the person, and quickly came to realize his mistake. His heart beat harshly against his ribs, and he couldn't help but exclaim his dislike for the situation.

"Fuck! Fuckin' hell, girl!"

At his shout, the girl flinched away from him so harshly that he thought the refrigerator was going to come crashing down on top of him, and he immediately felt guilty, for some odd reason.

She looked absolutely terrified. (Eye color) eyes big as saucers, glazed with fear and glossy with tears, shaking hands gripped the metal of the baseball bat so hard her skin turned white, and her entire body was shaking like a leaf. Her eyes never left his form as he slowly stood up from the ground, one hand still held out in front of him, whether to ward off an attack, or to show he meant no harm, neither really knew. The girl was down right terrified of him, and he hadn't so much as said a word to deserve it yet.

This had to be the niece the Sheriff was talking about, he decided. The scared look she was giving him as she slowly backed away from him made him feel downright awful, and he knew he needed to do something to show her he meant no harm. So, remembering her uncles words, Daryl worked to make his voice a bit less gruff than usual, and tried to keep the edge out of his tone.

"Uh-uh, I ain't here ta hurtcha, girlie–" she took another quick step back "–I'm a friend of Bill's. I was jus' comin' in ta get a drink, I ain't here ta hurtcha."

There was far more that could be said, he knew, but words never really were his forté, and he wasn't sure how much he could talk before he made her more uncomfortable. However, the little bit that he had said, mostly naming her uncle, he thought, had made her shoulders un-hunch a bit, though she kept her distrusting posture. Smart girl.

Slowly lowering the bat until it pointed at his chest she grabbed it with both hands and hesitantly backed out of the kitchen, beckoning him to follow her. Keeping him safely at the end of the bat, and moved to pick up the still-ringing phone and gingerly press it to her ear, her eyes never leaving him, and the bat never wavering (though it did shiver along with her tremors.)

Her eyes relaxed a bit more at the voice on the other end of the line, and though Daryl couldn't much hear the words that were being said—aside from the mumbled tone—he could still tell it was the sheriffs deep voice that spoke.

"Yeah? Uh-hm, good, I uh, I guess... I did. Of course," as she spoke to the formless voice, Daryl couldn't help the small spike of fear that ran up his spine. What if the Sheriff didn't want him there now that he'd scared the girl? He had warned him, he thought. What if Bill made him go back to his shit-hole house and wouldn't let him come back again? This place was one of the few he had to escape that hell, he didn't want to lose that. What if the officer freaked and called Daryl's dad to come pick him up? He'd have hell to pay if he let that happen. He was sure he'd end up with a few more scars at least if his dad were to find out that someone knew of what went on behind closed doors. The Sheriff, no less. What if he–

His spiraling thoughts were disrupted when he caught the sound of his name coming from the other end of the phone line and immediately tuned back in.

"Uhm, uh, yeah, I–I guess. I mean, yeah, yes, he's still here... Oh, no, he's, uh, he's been nice enough," was she even still talking about the red-necked youth? "Yes, of course it's okay, uncle Bill. Sure-sure thing, yeah, that's okay with me. I was thinking about making meatloaf tonight, anyway, that usually makes enough for more than just you an' me."

Wait, what?

The girl had lowered the weapon, though she still kept a tight grip in it, and gave him a shy, almost apologetic smile, before finally letting her eyes dart away. Daryl stayed frozen in his spot. What was even happening?

"–oh," she suddenly looked dejected at whatever had been said on the other side. Scared, almost. "Yeah, no, no, that's-that's okay, uncle Bill, sure thing. It's okay, promise," she suddenly donned a small smile, and though he knew imediately that it was fake, he still found himself startlingly light-of-breath at the sight.

"Yeah, of course, see you tomorrow, uncle, stay safe." Tomorrow? What? Why was all this so confusing to the youngest Dixon? Why was the disappearance of her smile making him feel so hollow?

The sudden change in the expression that the smaller figure wore was dramatically startling to Daryl. Going from sad and scared and sorry and a bit regretful to blushing and wincing and all together uncomfortable in the blink of an eye, the girl shriekingly exclaimed:

"Uncle Bill! No! Ew, gross! Don–Don't say things like that, ya nasty!" Daryl couldn't help but find her blush and stutter quite endearing.

Even from the few paces away that he was, he could still hear the loud laugh that erupted from the other side of the phone.

"Alrigh–alright, uncle Bill," the girls face was still flushed intensely, "I'm hanging up on you now... Yeah, yes, okay—thanks for that." She winced again at whatever he'd said, and she somehow flushed even harder. In a softer voice, now, "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Stay safe." Her last words were barely a whisper.

Slowly pulling the phone away from her ear, the girl placed it gently on the receiver before turning to glance at Daryl, though he took note that she never once fully looked at him again.

"I'm, uhm, I'm sorry," she whispered, grimacing softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~×•×~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#young!daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #pre apocalypse daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader fluff #daryl dixon x reader angst #daryl dixon x reader hurt/comfort #daryl dixon x female reader #softly barely a whisper

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mycatshuman · 5 years ago

Text

The Emo Who Stole Christmas

Chapter 4 : You're A Mean One Mr. Grinch or Virgil and Roman Are Done With the Who's and Decide to Get Back at Them.

Word Count: 3,477

Warnings: stealing of Christmas, may be some cursing, grown adult blaming a child for their problems, let me know if I missed any

Pairings: Pre-established Prinxiety and Logicality and Demus

Masterlist | Previous | Next | More Chapters

Again, a big thank you to @icequeenoriginal for being the co-creator. This was a mother-daughter effort and I love it.

❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄

Virgil stood staring down at the Whoville in the ice-cold snow.

Yes, the Grinch knew that tomorrow all the Whos would wake bright and early and rush for their toys.

"And then, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise, noise, noise!" Virgil exclaimed as he stomped around. "They'll bang on tong-tinglers. They'll blow their floo-flounders. They'll crash on Jang-jinglers and bounce on boing-bouncers!" He held his hands to his ears as if he could already hear the horrific noise.

Then Whos young and old would sit down to feast.

"And they'll ready and they'll feast. And they'll feast, feast, feast, feast!!" Virgil exclaimed as he stomped around. "They'll eat their Who pudding! And rare Who roast beast! And that's something I can not stand in the least." Virgil paused in his ranting. "Oh no!" He exclaimed horrified. "I'm speaking in rhyme!" He cried out. "Blast you Whos!" He exclaimed as he fell to his knees.

The more the Grinch thought of what Christmas would bring…the more the Grinch thought...

"I must stop this whole thing!" Virgil exclaimed as he stood up and paced. "For year after year, I've put up with it now! I must stop this Christmas from coming! But how?" Virgil blinked. "I mean, in what way?" He let out an annoyed growl and turned to walk inside. He opened the door and was hit with a blast of cheery Christmas music.

"Christmas is going to the dogs!" Virgil blinked as he watches Remy lazily bath himself to the music. Virgil opened his mouth only to close it again confused. He quickly jumped at the sound of his door opening and turned to find Roman dressed in sweats.

"Roman?" Virgil asked concerned. "How are you feeling?" Roman shuffled forward and fell forward into his lover's arms. Virgil's arms came up to wrap around the other and envelope him in a hug.

"Virgil…I want to live with you. I don't want to be down there anymore. Not with the way they keep treating me, like some ornament meant to be stared at or ignored! Please! I don't care if someone finds out, I can't live there anymore!”

Virgil blinked rapidly. "Love," he started. "Are you 100% sure about this?" Roman nodded. Virgil sighed and ran his hands through the other soft curls.

"Virgil?" Roman asked softly after a while.

"Hmm?"

"I want to make them pay. I want them to understand. I don't-I want them to-" Roman groaned and hurried his face in Virgil's chest, ironically too emotionally exhausted to deal with his emotions. Virgil frowned and snuggled the other closer trying to provide as much comfort as he could. Then, his mind began to whirl.

Then the Grinch got an idea. An awful idea. The Grinch got a wonderful awful idea.

Virgil pulled away from Roman and announced. ”I’m going to steal Christmas.” Roman blinked as Virgil smirked. "They want to hurt you so bad, they'll lose Christmas. And if they want a monster, then I'll show them a monster!"

Roman hopped up, finally finding some energy. "Yes! I'll go make the costume. You work on the sleigh!" He turned to Remy only to stop. "And you just keep bathing yourself." Roman ran off and began working while Virgil started on the monstrous sleigh.

”With this coat and this hat, he'll look just like Saint Nick!" Roman exclaimed. As they worked, Roman's voice sang a little song he had composed from all of the stupid rumors about the Grinch. "'You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch,'" Virgil chuckled as he heard the other sing. "'You really are a heel. You're as cuddly as a cactus, You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch! You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!" Roman walked over to Virgil with the hat and place it on his head as he sang and place a quick kiss to his cheeks before going back to work on the jacket. "'Just face the music, you're a monster, Mr. Grinch, yes, you are. Your heart's an empty hole. Your brain is full of spiders. You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch. I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.'" Virgil snorted as Roman danced around with the jacket before sitting on a table out of his way so he could work on the pants. "You know, if you ask the Who's Who of Whoville, No one's denyin” Virgil spared a glance at Roman and smiled. Boy did he love him.

"'You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch." Roman picked up the song again. "'You have termites in your smile. You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch. Given the choice between you, I'd take the seasick crocodile!" Virgil giggled as Roman tossed the pants over to the same table. He closed the front door behind him after having moved the sleigh outside and walked over to Roman. He wrapped him in a hug and kissed his temple. Roman hummed happily. Virgil hated to have to wipe the smile from his face.

"Roman," Roman made a small noise of acknowledgment. "I'm going to need you to go home. Just for tonight."

Roman ripped himself away from Virgil. "What?! Why?!"

"I can't have you helping me-"

"No! You can't--no!"

"Roman, please-"

"No! No! No!"

"Roman, I can't have you getting in trouble. I want to make sure if you ever want to go back, you can! I can't bare to have you help and then regret it and then want to leave but you can't because you've been shunned. Please, Roman. This is all I ask. Just this one night. Please."

Roman stared at Virgil for a while before reluctantly nodding. "Okay," he whispered. He wasn't happy about it, but he knew it would make Virgil feel better about everything. "Okay, just-" Roman moved forward and placed a hand on Virgil's cheek. "Be careful, okay?" Virgil nodded. "Thank you." Roman pushed up on his tiptoes and gave the other a light kiss. "I'll see you later."

"See you later," Virgil promised

-----

Virgil sat with Remy watching Santa through a telescope. "He should be finishing up anytime now. Wanna talk about a recluse? He only comes out once a year but does he catch any hate for it? No! He probably lives up there just to avoid the taxes." Virgil ranted. He paused as he watched as Santa flew away in his sleigh. "Whoops. I forgot about the reindeer…"

Did that stop the old Grinch? No, the Grinch simply said:

"If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead." Virgil turned around and faced Remy. "Remy!" Remy rolled his eyes and prepared himself to wear a headband with antlers. Virgil quickly found a reindeer headband and placed it on his cat's head before placing a red nose on his nose. "Okay, you're a reindeer and your motivation is that you're a deer with a red nose and nobody likes you. One day, you save Christmas-" Virgil paused. "Ignore that. We'll just improvise. You hate Christmas! You're gonna steal it! Saving Christmas was such a lousy ending. Okay and action!"

Remy glared at Virgil before knocking the red nose off. Virgil blinked and then he gasped. "Brilliant! You regret your own nose because it represents the glitter of commercialism! Why didn't I think of that?" Then Virgil walked off and climbed into the sleigh along with Remy.

Virgil flipped the switch and the sleigh came life, vibrating with power. "That feels good." Virgil turned to Remy "Here goes nothing," and he pressed the bottom to start actually start moving. The sleigh rose up in the air and Virgil grinned. "Wow! It actually works! Okay! Let's go! On, Crasher! On Thrasher! On, Vomit and Blitzkrieg!!!" Virgil screamed as the sleigh shot off and began spinning violently, turning over and over. "We're gonna die!" Virgil shrieked. "We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up! And then we're gonna die! Mommy, tell it to stop!!" He cried, eventually he was able to wrangle control of the sleigh and they flew smoothly through the sky. Virgil stayed frozen for a moment before allowing himself to slightly relax. He let out a sigh of relief. "Almost lost my cool there."

All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air. All the Whos were all dreaming sweet dreams without care when he came to the first little house on the square…

Virgil slowly brought down the sleigh on top of the roof of an overly decorated house. He noticed a traffic light among the variety of lights. "Weird." He turned back to Remy. "This will be our first stop."

The old Grinchy Claus hissed. And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist. He'd slide down the chimney, a rather tight pinch, but if Santa could do it, so could the Grinch.

Virgil stood up and tied a rope around his waist. He stepped up onto the edge of the chimney and prepared to dive. "He's planning a double-twisted interrupted forward-flying 2-and-a-half with a combo tuck and like. A high degree of difficulty," Virgil muttered and jumped and dove headfirst down into the chimney.

He got stuck only once, for a moment or two…

Virgil groaned quietly. "Stupid suit," muttered, referring to the furry suit of the Grinch. Something that helped him scare kids off and leave him alone now was slowing him down from his biggest scare of all. He huffed.

Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue.

"A little more stealth, Thomas, please."

Thomas lowered his voice. Where the little Who stockings all hung in a row.

"These stockings," he grinned. "Are the first things to go." The Grinch opened a jar and turned it upside down, shaking out moths. "Alright, fellas, chow time." The moths quickly gobbled up the stockings.

Then he slunk to the icebox.

"Slunk?"

He eyed the Whos' feast. He took the Who pudding. He took the roast beast.

"Hike!" Virgil called out as he launched the roast beast through his legs like a football player.

He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash. Why that Grinch, even took their last can of Who-hash. Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee.

Virgil threw the bag up the chimney and spun around to face the tree. "And now," grinned the Grinch. "I'll stuff up the tree!" And the Grinch grabbed the tree and he started to shove, when he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.

Virgil turned to find Emile and grimaced. He felt really bad about this….

"Excuse me" Emile called softly.

The Grinch had been caught by this tiny Who child, who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.

"Mr. Santa, what are you doing with our tree?"

But you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick, he thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick.

"Why my sweet little tot!" Virgil exclaimed grandly. "There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side. So, I'm taking it home to my workshop, sweet child. "I'll fix it up there, then I'll bring it back here."

Emile narrowed their eyes. "Santa, what's Christmas really about?"

"Vengeance!" Virgil exclaimed before remembering he was supposed to be pretending he was the perfect Who Santa. "I mean...presents, I suppose."

Emile frowned. "I was afraid of that."

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted their head and got them a drink, and he sent them to bed.

Emile paused their journey up the stairs. "Santa?"

"What?" Virgil asked.

"Don't forget the Grinch-"

Virgil couldn't take it anymore and walk out from behind the tree. "I'm sorry."

Emile blinked and furrowed their brows. "Why?"

Virgil bit his lip. "To show you all what's more important ...and to get back at everyone for upsetting Roman."

Emile nodded. "Okay. Well...good luck, Virgil."

And when Emile Lou went up with their cup, the Grinch went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up. Virgil quickly shot the tree up the chimney and grabbed everything else before climbing back up the chimney. And the last thing he took was the log for their fire. On their walls, he left nothing but some hooks and some wire. And the one speck of food that he'd left in the house, was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse. Virgil reached down and picked the mouse up deciding to allow it to eat something so long as it wasn't in a Whos’ house. Then he slithered and slunk with a smile most unpleasant, around each Who home and he took every present.

Virgil took a saw and cut a circle above his head and the floor fell through along with the Christmas tree and its presents. He stepped up through the hole and smirked. "They're in sale. Everything must go." And he began to take it all.

------

Virgil froze as he stepped into the bedroom of a magazine picture-perfect house. Oh. This was Roman's house. He glanced around at the decorations and found himself smiling fondly. He should have known. Everything just screamed Roman from the abundance of reds, whites, and golds. He carefully walked over to the bedside table and noticed the ring box the mayor had given Roman. He nearly growled as he went to take it before noticing something else. It was his gift. The one he had made for Roman all those years ago. Virgil's eyes watered and he forced himself to blink the tears away. He shook his head and quickly snatched the ring box off of the table. He went to move only to be stopped by a tan hand yanking him down and lips crashing into his. Virgil blinked in surprise before happily giving into Roman and allowing the other to wrap his arms around his neck.

Roman pulled away after kissing Virgil senseless. "Virgil," he asked softly. "Please, let me help." Virgil bit his lip. "I suppose..." He started. "You can help...but...just promise that if we get caught, you say I forced you to do it, okay?"

Roman's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait! No! I can't-"

"Then I can't let you help."

Roman blinked. "I-okay," he sighed in defeat. "I'll tell them you forced me." Virgil let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

-----

Roman froze as he finally dragged the attention away from Virgil's hiding place. He hadn't realized the Whos would put out guards to guard the path leading to Mount Crumpit after everyone went to bed to protect from the Grinch. From Virgil. But Virgil ran out of fuel for his rocket sleigh and he had to drag it up the mountain himself. But they were losing moonlight, and the long way around wouldn't work. So Roman offered to try and distract them. But now, he was very nervous. The Who guards had rounded on him. Accusing him of being in league with the Grinch. Of course, he was, but Virgil had made him promise and he wasn't about to break his promise.

"You really think I'm in league with the Grinch?" Roman asked the guards.

They nodded. "Yeah, why else wouldn't you have immediately said yes to Mayor Anton's proposal?”

Roman grimaced. He really hated the mayor.

"If I really hated the Grinch, would I do this?" Then Roman started his song. "'You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel, You're as cuddly as a cactus, You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch. You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel. Just face the music, you're a monster, Mr. Grinch, yes, you are. Your heart's an empty hole, Your brain is full of spiders, You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch. I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole. You know, if you ask the Who's Who of Whoville No one's denyin'. You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch. You have termites in your smile. You have all the tender sweetness Of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch. Given the choice between you, I'd take the seasick crocodile.'"

As Roman sang, he watched Virgil carefully carry the sleigh behind the two guards and try to rush up the path until he wouldn't be noticed.

"I suppose not," one of the guards said once Roman's song was done. Then they both turned back to face the mountain.

Roman blinked. Surely it can't be that easy! But it seemed it was. So he turned and quickly found the nearest garbage chute and took a ride to the top of Mount Crumpit. Prepared to meet his love at the top.

----

3,000 feet up, up the side of Mount Crumpit, he rode with his load to the tip top to dump it.

Virgil grunted as he set the sleigh down carefully in the snow and turned to face Roman who was standing before him. "We did it!" He exclaimed excitedly. Roman grinned, leaped into his arms and wrapped him in a tight hug. Virgil placed a kiss to Roman's lips before setting him back down on his own feet. Virgil turned to Remy. "That wasn't so bad, was it Remy?"

Remy rolled his eyes as he remembered at least 30 different breakdowns Virgil had had along the way.

Roman turned towards the horizon. "They'll be waking up now," he said. "I know just what they'll do. All of them down in Whoville will all cry!”

----

"What an embarrassment! I've been robbed!" The sheriff of Whoville exclaimed as she rushed out of her house to her car. She climbed in and turned the siren on blissfully unaware of the rope attached to her bumper. She quickly drove off.

Mayor Anton awoke with a start and suddenly, his bed crashed through the big window in his room with him in it. As Whos came out of their homes they watched as the mayor slid past on his bed. As the sheriff made a turn around the Christmas tree in the middle of town, the Mayor's bed slid around and came to an abrupt stop.

The sheriff stepped out of her car and stopped as she noticed the mayor. "Mayor May-Who?"

The mayor quickly jumped out of bed and pulled on his robe that was luckily still attached to the bed. He looked around noticing the damage. He frowned. "I wonder who could have done this," he said as he noticed Emile and their family come into view. "I'll tell you one thing: Invite the Grinch destroy Christmas." He raised his hands and beat on his bed. "Invite the Grinch destroy Christmas!!" He paused to take a breath and Emile frowned. "But did anyone, anyone listen to me?"

"I did!" The mayor's assistant piped in but the mayor ignored him.

"No. You choose to listen to a little not-to-be-taken-seriously child. And they haven't even grown into their nose yet." Anton shook his head. "Emile, I hope you're very proud of what you have done." With that, the mayor turned around.

Emile frowned and looked down as tears welled in their eyes.

"If they aren't, then I am!”

Mayor Anton turned around to see Patton, Emile's dad, and Logan, their father had stepped in front of them. "What?" He asked, not sure if he had heard correctly.

"I said, if they aren't, then I am. I'm glad he took our presents."

Who's around all gasped as the Mayor gawked at them. "You're glad? He's glad!" The mayor shouted to the crowd. "You're glad that everything is gone.? You're glad the Grinch virtually wrecked…? No, no. Not wrecked, pulverized Christmas. Is that really what I'm hearing?"

Patton sighed. "You can't hurt Christmas, Mr. Mayor. It's not about the gifts, or contests or the fancy lights." He turned and gestured to Emile who's face showed hopefulness.

"That's what Emile has been trying to tell everybody. "

The mayor blinked. "What is wrong with you!?! This is a child!"

Patton pulled Emile close against his side. "They're my child. They happen to by right by the way." Patton turned towards his family. "I don't need anything more for Christmas than what's right here, my family."

The Who's all erupted into cheers and began telling each other Merry Christmas. Emile smiled brightly. They finally understood. Logan grabbed a hold of Patton's robe. "Merry Christmas honey!" He yanked Patton into a kiss. Missy and Pranks covered their mouths like they were going to be sick as they moved away from their parents.

"Give me a break!" The mayor cried out as he turned away.

Meanwhile, Emile was looking up at Mount Crumpit before they moved to find a garbage chute. "No one should be alone on Christmas," they whispered as the hit the side and started their ride to the top of the mountain.

❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄

Everything Taglist: @spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws

The Emo Who Stole Christmas Taglist: @logical-princey @mostpeopleannoyne

May I suggest listening to this song as mom or you know @ icequeenoriginal showed it to me saying this is how extra Roman is singing the song and I quite agree.

youtube

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years ago

Text

James & Ava

James: [okay so we all know the mood is that he sees whatever she's posted and literally goes there immediately with no thought of who else could also be cos he NEEDS to check that she's alright. The drama of it all] Ava: [but luckily no one is there and she'd be so shocked but also grateful 'cos no one wants to be alone and feeling unwell, esp. not in hospital] James: [when he'd have to say he was her brother so he can take her #awkward] Ava: [lollol finding that more amusing than you would otherwise 'cos concussion breaking your awks] James: [oh she'd be so cute I can't] Ava: [just hugging him so hard] James: [we all need that moment but sadly it cannot last forever because he'd have some driver doing circles endlessly cos there's nowhere to park at hospitals ever] Ava: [seriously, and it's so expensive] James: [when you were so desperate to get in there you didn't think about how long it could have taken like she could've been admitted and that driver is just lowkey out there for the rest of time] Ava: [lmao i wonder how long he'd wait for that bag before getting bored, luckily they'd low-key be ready to get rid 'cos too busy and overcrowded] James: [practically pushing her out the door as soon as they saw someone show up for her so he doesn't even have time to give her a feelsy speech lol] James: [just help her out to the car boy, you've had a lot of practice with drunk girls in heels and it'd be the same vibe] Ava: [just saying thank you over and over] James: [meanwhile he's asking her if she's okay over and over like every step they trying to take here] Ava: ['Oh God, you must think I'm so stupid, I swear, they came out of nowhere'] James: ['We both know you're not stupid, Ava' shout out to that text cleverness 5ever tbh 'I'm just glad you weren't seriously hurt'] Ava: ['How have you been, I've been so worried' shoutout to this concussion giving me shameless freedom lol] James: [when you can only shake your head because 1. you ain't been good 2. you don't wanna tell her any of it and 3. you don't think you deserve her worry/ want her to worry about you] Ava: [sad face] James: [stopping to stroke said face, don't fall over girl, he's got you] Ava: ['James-' and then just looking 'cos what can you say] James: [looking back at her cos likewise but then you gotta drop them eyes cos so sad] Ava: ['you look tired' and making more of an actual effort to get into this car] James: ['I am tired' but helping her in and doing her seatbelt for her because not gonna see her struggle ever, telling the driver her address because there's nowhere else you can take her but home even though you have no idea if as soon as you get there someone is gonna show up for her and you obviously don't want that] Ava: [patting your shoulder like 'you can come sleep' like no no one can babe] James: ['no' but a little smile cos she's cute af 'I'm supposed to keep you awake'] Ava: [when you make a face like 😏] James: ['by which, of course, I mean, you've got a 8 hour date with Edward Cullen ahead of you'] Ava: [grinning like a fool but then being like, wait 'you'll stay though, can you?'] James: ['I'm not going to leave you alone' oh the heavy unspoken implication that she might not be if the friends or fam descend 💔] Ava: [resting your head on him as a silent thank you but then lifting it like 'so awake, promise'[ James: [stroking her hair and keeping an eye like] Ava: [being like let me tell YOU a story and honestly God knows but it'd be cute and she'd be trying to match his storyteller energy] James: [when that's lowkey the moment he falls in love with her bye] Ava: [asking the driver to play the new moon soundtrack] James: [loling and honestly when was the last time he did that, we all know it was when they were together] Ava: [live the emo life and love it babes] James: [he's GOTTA dance in his seat to keep her awake, no other reason #notanerd lol] Ava: [just clapping and cheering him on like nothing to see here driver God bless] James: [so not what that man was expecting to 👀 or 👂] Ava: [freaking out drivers is low-key a fave] James: [the one time you're happy about London traffic tbh] Ava: [even though we ain't gonna interrupt, you don't know that boy] James: [speaking of, probably send a text or something to check on the kids because you just ran like assumedly they at their grandparents but] Ava: [never leaving 'em with Chlo we all know] James: [lord her and Jay would kill each other] Ava: [I'd genuinely be worried for her safety so don't blame you remotely boy, least her parents are invested] James: [literally though & you can have those grandparents forever babs we ain't taking them away from you] Ava: [awkward that your mum never shows but that's just that on that] James: [lbr that's for the best stick with your dads kiddos] Ava: [we all know it, even if Matty might not end up remembering much] James: [Ava lowkey her mum now oops] Ava: [and Jay's actual auntie...lol what a tangled web we weave boo] James: [at least they can all stay connected] Ava: [true facts] James: [makes my heart happy even if it's weird] Ava: [lean in to how weird this family is James] James: [they weird af but they're better than the one he's got #noshadetoTeddythough] Ava: [all the shade to you Chlo, sort it out] James: [her poor future children & husband] Ava: [honestly, good luck] James: [he'd have to be about everything she is or else what the fuck] James: [anyway we've been sidetracked get to Baze's house you two] Ava: [movie marathon awaits, what else do we vibe or shall we just try and see what comes out, like] James: [let's just run with it and see what happens because we extra and anything could be said and done tbh] James: [imagine how awkward it'd be when they get there because he'd have to send her in first and just be shitting himself in the car like is anyone there or no] Ava: [at least you know full well no one is there 'cos business trips forever so you're just at the door shaking your head and doing the 'come on' gesture] James: [he'd just help her to the sofa like immediately & get her blankets and pillows and painkillers (even though it wouldn't touch a concussion headache) and a phone charger and everything else she could possibly need cos Chloe's got him trained like a dog] Ava: [low-key pulling at him, gently, like boy sit down] James: [when you are then looking at her like what did I forget/ do wrong before you realise] Ava: [squeezing his hand because you can only say thank you so many times, putting the film on but then pausing and gasping so dramatically 'coffee, I promised you coffee' and going to get up like can you be careful please] James: [thinking she's in pain or something because of that gasp so being at her side like 0-1000 and slowing her down cos they can do it together thank you] Ava: [making a face at herself like ffs when she catches on 'I'm not trying to age you' and touching his non-grey hair and wrinkles like totally necessary yep] James: ['but you're offering me coffee, what's next red meat or red wine?' but no actual shade cos we both know he doesn't care and none of that is what's aging him anyway, taking her hand from his face and gently kissing said hand before handholding to lead her to her own kitchen like let's do this] Ava: ['I don't know where my cigarettes are' shrugs and smiles like sorry not sorry, smiles even harder but lowkey stops breathing when, kissing ontop of where he just kissed her hand, then getting to this all-singing all-dancing coffee machine 'you have to pick the most daring option, one you've never, ever tried before, okay?' and waggling her finger like so serious about this] James: [takes his own cigarettes out of his pocket and slides the pack over to her 'okay' and does pick, really concentrating on the decision even though there'd be so much shit he hasn't tried and we all know he could just pick option 1 and be done] Ava: [takes one out and puts it behind her ear for later 'cos no need to light up in your parents home, just watching him 'cos so cute and then nodding like yes, good choice and picks the same, setting up this machine 'cos they're always more confusing and/or time-consuming than they need to be I swear] James: [where's the lie you gotta have the knack I swear, his turn to watch her now though because she's beautiful doing anything ever and he missed her so bad] Ava: [ahh coffee goodtimes forever] James: [he needs it cos he is tired af so thanks Ava you babe] Ava: ['do we talk about what happened, or do we write it off?' when you just saying this casually whilst waiting for your coffees] James: ['I don't know' because he is genuinely torn between wanting to and also not] Ava: ['Wait and see how we feel' 'cos no rush or pressure here 'you better carry these though' 'cos we don't need burns as well ty] James: ['wait here a minute for me' because carries the drinks through and then comes back for her because why not carry her though as well obvs] Ava: [does and loves it 'I've missed you, you know'] James: ['I know now' just giving her 😍 casually 'I've missed you too'] Ava: [😍 right back 'Ask anyone' when you're talking about your mood but you realize that sounds like you been telling the world lol 'I mean, I've been a delight' 🙄] James: [when you shake your head like no it's okay 'I overreacted about your cousin, I'm sorry' takes a deep breath remembering that whole sad ending moment 'And I'm sorry for fucking up the start of your summer' because she loves it and he knows] Ava: ['I understand why, understood, whatever. And I am still sorry, I was just too excited and-' sighs like, you know, squeezing his hand again 'I promise, that's all sorted now though' 'cos clearly told her it's over by now, 'cos thought it was anyway; she nods like thanks but shrugs like it's okay too, don't worry 'Sure even I can't be grumpy in the Seychelles, like'] James: [blatantly almost kissing her because he understands the whole being too highkey thing because he was (*cough* is) too but doesn't because she's going away 'when are you going?'] Ava: [sad face like you didn't just say you aren't gonna be grumpy 'when my parents get back, couple of days'] James: [strokes her face again like he did earlier 'you'll feel better by then' because someone's meant to watch you for 48 hours actually NHS website says] Ava: [😈 me 😇 her looking at him 'how did you even- why- I-' continuously cutting herself off 'cos you know he was checking in on you now and you know he came without hesitating so it doesn't need to be said 'Oh, James'] James: ['Ava' saying her name with SO MUCH feeling that I cannot 'I had to' when you mean so many things by that like you had to go but you have to stay now and you had to make sure she was okay today but also you had to keep checking on her the whole time] Ava: [definitely gonna go in to kiss him can't stop that soz] James: [we all know it was only a matter of time and that this is gonna turn into a not at all casual make out session] Ava: [you honestly deserve it lads] James: [that coffee gonna be cold and they won't even notice] Ava: [the movies are also not being watched lmao but no one cares rn] James: [on pause forever sorry not sorry] James: [but eventually like after AN AGE one of them should lean on the remote or whatever so it starts playing and they're like wtf] Ava: [when you shit yourself like who is here but then loving 'cos hi Edward] James: [we all shitting ourselves and all loling] Ava: ['he's very possessive' no lie] James: [looking at Edward and then kissing her again like when you're trying to make someone jealous] Ava: [when you're loling too hard into his mouth like 'scuse me] James: [kissing her neck instead so she can have her adorable lol] Ava: [reacting to that in a v different way] James: [we back at it again at krispy kreme soz twilight saga] Ava: [i swear to god the ily curse is so real] James: [this always happens to us, don't talk for a bit lads, wink wonk] Ava: [its because we give them such high-pressure situations but yes, you should fully hook up 'cos haven't yet] James: [I wonder if the orgasm headache thing would work for a concussion one or not] Ava: [my boo says #experiment] James: [imma google it but I don't expect an answer] James: [nobody is telling me but if it can help a migraine I don't see why it wouldn't] Ava: [you'll be fine bitch, just a shameless excuse that he needs to hang around longer] James: [we should totally also do the shameless thing when he falls asleep and then wakes up immediately but is like oh no how long was I asleep because not only worried about her we know] Ava: [for sure, just there chilling like 🥰 'not long, but you looked peaceful'] James: ['I was' and more 😍 'I am' just snuggling happily because deserved af] Ava: [kissing the top of his head 'good' then lying down and snuggling harder 'I'm so glad you're here, that you're okay'] James: ['I'm glad that I'm here & that you're okay' kissing her forehead and holding her so tightly because he was so worried that something much worse had happened to her] Ava: ['It was kinda scary how much I missed you- like I said I WAS extra but I think, no, I still am, I can't lie to you'[ James: [when you are just falling so hard for her rn smiling like look at this perfect 😇 'you don't have to miss me any longer, minus however long you're spending in the Seychelles, of course'] Ava: ['Yeah?' trying but failing not to sound so hopeful 'And two weeks, so not as long as it has been, not that I was definitely counting or anything'] James: ['I was afraid, no, I am afraid but very few things have ever scared me as much as when I saw you were in hospital & I thought-'] Ava: [just holding him back even tighter like you could not be closer 'I'm so sorry I scared you, I won't ever do it again, even if I get hit by something more substantial than a 90lbs mum on a lightweight bike' and shaking her head with a lil lol 'cos it is funny even though it can be as bad as a car crash actual sometimes] James: ['You scare me in the best ways, you don't have to stop, I don't want you to' because think of the new things he's already done and the new things he's already felt, it makes me emosh goodbye] Ava: [when that's the hottest thing you've ever heard like 'scuse me round two] James: [you've actually got all night for once so make the most of it lads] Ava: [like literally no one needs it more than him so I'm allowing it, there's enough shit happened, happening and still to come] James: [amen to that] Ava: [happy bubble forever] James: [if only like, he is NOT gonna wanna leave in the morning but maybe we could say that like Jay has a playdate with friends or something cos soz babe you can't keep a secret so he just gets the baby and comes back] Ava: [that would be a moment] James: [just casually meet each other how cute] Ava: [have a normal, happy day like you're meant to oh] James: [you all deserve it truly] Ava: [meet your potential future stepchild babe] James: [do we wanna have them go out or stay in?] Ava: [🤔 obvs really want them to go to Kensington Park 'cos Peter Pan and like obvs I doubt anyone who would be bothered to report to Chloe is gonna be there but it is risky so maybe save it idk] James: [we will bookmark that for the future because MUST but they could take Frank on a walk somewhere cos we ain't referenced that sweet sir even if it's just through the streets like] Ava: [that's a good shout, you better be a good boy lol] James: [and don't cockblock them rn please] James: [they'd look like a little fam, I am FINE] Ava: [and lowkey behave more like one in one day like the bar is so low tah Chlo] James: [the scolding tea] James: how are you feeling? Ava: 😊 So happy Ava: Only a bit tired from the whole staying awake thing and you keeping me awake, like 😏 Ava: oh, and Frank said you've redeemed yourself so well done there too Ava: how're you and the girls? James: I'm happy to hear all of that James: has your dizziness gone? James: we're fine, but tired too Ava: Yeah Ava: barely a headache Ava: and my parents get in early AM so I should be all set to go when they do get here James: how much packing is there left to do? Ava: All of it but deciding which 14 bikinis I wanna take shouldn't take too long James: are you sure? I think it would take me a really long time to decide Ava: I'll put some stories up Ava: You can help me Ava: I reckon I need your clearly more considered opinion James: of course you do James: you wouldn't want to spend the entirety of your holiday wishing you'd chosen differently Ava: so true Ava: especially as I'm not allowed to pack my pout James: everyone is well aware of how important the pursuit of a tan is to you, darling, anything that jeopardises that, well, it's bound to be very pout inducing James: you'll be forgiven Ava: I don't know if my family is as forgiving as you Ava: perhaps they don't like my pout as much Ava: they definitely aren't as supportive in bikini related decision making James: I'll dedicate paragraphs to both James: multiple lengthy ones Ava: It'll seem gratuitous in the movie but nothing is too much for the book James: as long as it remains included in the director's cut James: or else I will be devastated Ava: I'll demand it in my contract Ava: I think it'll be a first in favour of taking your clothes off instead of keeping 'em on James: thank you James: you do deserve a multitude of firsts, honestly Ava: you deserve so much Ava: much more than I'm allowed to give you Ava: that reminds me Ava: as I can't give you anything as a thank you, I've had to get creative James: so much of what I deserve is negative & there is nothing you owe to me in any capacity, thanks included James: but I'd never want to discourage creativity Ava: Shh sh Ava: in the spirit of firsts and trying new things Ava: when you're all less worn out, go to [a sassy but kid-friendly cafe/restaurant that's a bit out there and exotic and definitely nowhere Chloe has ever made you take her] and tell 'em you're eating on me, yeah Ava: then when I get back and you're free, you're coming over and I'm cooking James: Ava Ava: It's already arranged, I go there all the time, it's the 2nd best Brazilian food I've had James: you've been to Brazil for the 1st, haven't you? I can tell Ava: Actually no, mores the pity Ava: but my Uncle is Brazilian and a chef, my cousin too Ava: having a big weird family has unexpected perks Ava: if you like it, I already have a recipe lined up that's meant to be 🔥 but even a novice like me can master it James: you'll have to wait patiently for my review because I regrettably can't send you a picture of my face after the 1st mouthful to serve as one, but okay Ava: I'll do my best Ava: though having any patience when it comes to you doesn't seem to be my strong suit Ava: arguably not a virtue I'm known for, ever, but especially now James: I'll do my best not to miss you so hard that it's physically painful but that doesn't appear to be my strong suit either & as previously agreed, I won't make any promises I'm forced to immediately break Ava: Oh Ava: Knowing it wasn't just me finding out that painful cliche is painfully real is somehow a comfort, to know you'll want to avoid the feeling as much as I do from now on but it also hurts me even more, the idea of you having to feel it at all in the first place Ava: but there is no conflict in just how hard I'm looking forward to seeing you again after this ill-timed holiday James: I don't ever want you to be in pain because of me, I have to insist on only the good cliches going forward James: devastatingly a postcard can't be included in that Ava: Hmm, got any long-lost great aunties I can pretend to be? 🤔😂 James: If I do my wife is bound to be aware of them, their current financial situation & any possible health concerns they are facing Ava: Valid Ava: Don't need to give her any more reason to 💀💀💀 me Ava: At least no holiday is complete without the obligatory narcissistic poolside shoot James: suffice to say I've never had a complete holiday, in that case Ava: I bet you've had to be cameraman plenty though Ava: so rude when you're so nice to look at James: & yet I've never been trusted to pick a filter Ava: 🙄 Ava: does she not know that you're an artiste James: no, it's our secret Ava: 😊 I like that James: I like you Ava: I like that more James: I wish I could see you again before you go Ava: Me too Ava: I kinda wish I weren't going James: how early are your parents getting back exactly? Ava: like 4am kinda early James: I won't make you stay awake again James: I know how tired you must be Ava: 🥺 James: I'm so relieved that I can't see that look on your actual face Ava: It's 💔 Ava: but I'll survive Ava: about James: you're a very strong person Ava: You James: I'm not Ava: You are though Ava: you put up with so much shit James: is that strength or is it weakness? Ava: I think it's strength Ava: You can't necessarily stop shit happening or get shit out of your life Ava: no matter how strong Ava: and you manage to do all the shit you have to regardless James: I'd like to think you're right Ava: Then you should Ava: I encourage it Ava: 🤓 me James: you are undeniably clever Ava: Try to be Ava: when I'm not standing in the middle of cycle paths, obviously James: I heard you say that bike came out of nowhere Ava: Yeah Ava: I miss you already Ava: Frank is not as good a nurse, like at all James: if you can fall asleep now, I'd feel less guilty about the prospect of asking you not to later James: should I hypothetically be able to get away Ava: 🛌🏃 Ava: Promise James: I can't give you a promise back Ava: I know Ava: but this way, I either stay asleep and that's that Ava: or I get the best surprise to wake me up James: what did I do to deserve you? Ava: This is the part where I say something very bad but Ava: you don't seem capable Ava: you're just James: whatever it was, I need to know so I can keep doing it Ava: just be you Ava: another cliche you've proven to be true and real James: this fortnight without you is going to be really cliche James: there's no chance of it existing beyond the 1st draft Ava: not even for my eyes only? James: well James: maybe Ava: Please please please James: okay James: you are my fairest critic & you do have beautiful eyes Ava: Yours are better Ava: but I won't be too jealous if I get to look at them more James: I definitely can't promise not to be envious of everyone in the Seychelles who will get to look at you more than I can Ava: Do you ever get a decent lunchbreak? Ava: we could facetime James: I'll figure something out James: because my dad takes the longest lunch breaks, you'd be forgiven for thinking it's the 80s Ava: 😏 we love a throwback 🙄 James: I'll take Matty to work with me, she'll distract whoever I need her to Ava: She is very cute Ava: I see it James: I won't be saying anything the like of that if she won't sleep tonight though Ava: 🤞 for you and her Ava: shame she's not yet at the walking stage Ava: Frank is so 💤 James: I can't keep her in any kind of routine, it's frustrating for both of us Ava: That's hard James: it's harder for her than it is for me, she never knows what's happening Ava: She'll get there Ava: I was the worst baby Ava: hopefully before you totally lose your mind, 'course James: I find it impossible to believe you weren't 😇 Ava: I was pretty premmie so my poor parents were confined to perpetual bright light for ages when I got home James: both the girls were so late James: that was an entirely different struggle Ava: I can imagine how delightful Ava: usually excusable but when you set the bar low to begin with 😬 James: the last thing I want to do is badmouth her to you, but as we know, sometimes things write themselves Ava: I feel you Ava: not a cliche I particularly wanna be either James: of course not Ava: but you can vent, you know Ava: I don't even have to reply, just if you need to put it somewhere James: no, I can't Ava: okay, just a suggestion James: so much of this is already not fair to you, Ava Ava: I don't think it is Ava: you've never lied about any of it, you're always realistic about what you can and can't give me Ava: and I'd like to help, in any tiny way I'm able James: you don't know what she's like & I'd rather you didn't have to know James: let's keep it at you don't do sympathy Ava: I know very little but that's not positive so it doesn't take your author level of imagination if I wanna go there without your guidance Ava: and it isn't sympathy but okay Ava: I won't mention her and you don't have to either James: I just can't have you seeing me differently because Ava: I'd never see you differently because of what she's like as a person James: it's too big of a risk for me to take, that you'll end up thinking less of me than you do now Ava: You can trust me Ava: but you don't have to Ava: I won't push anything, I don't need to Ava: as much as I want to take things fast in so many respects, I'm never going to take it where you don't want it James: it isn't you I don't trust James: I'm not a reliable narrator, she's made sure I'm not Ava: However...intertwined and diluted you feel your story got, because of her, because of whatever Ava: it's always gonna be your story to tell, if you want it Ava: and I'll always listen to how you tell it James: Ava Ava: James James: if it was a story I was in control of I'd come to the airport & tell you not to go James: cliche or not Ava: and I'd stay Ava: but that's far too much like a happy ending and we've only just begun James: you're right again Ava: don't sound so surprised 😉 James: I was actually trying to decide where it falls on the scale of ideas & habits, good, bad or somewhere in between James: that you always seem to be Ava: Have you drawn a conclusion yet? James: I couldn't possibly tell you James: you're supposed to be asleep Ava: damn Ava: you'll tell me in the morning? James: yes Ava: Okay, I'll go, as long as you know it is so reluctantly it's practically under protest James: & I won't stay here hoping you don't, as long as you know it's under identical conditions Ava: Noted Ava: Goodnight and sweet dreams for whenever that happens for you then, love James: thank you

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red-and-blue-sewer-circus-arc · 6 years ago

Text

CHANGING FACES

Arnie Miller's day started poorly and went downhill fast.

After he finished cleaning and shaving he made himself a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast and watched half an hour of the news. Nothing happy going on that he could see and one of his acquaintances had been violently mutilated. Matthew Sechrist was dead. Maddy the Clown was deceased, and not by natural causes.

For now, it was time to get ready, so he got himself off the sofa, scarfed down the last of his eggs, he put on his war paint: Titanium white face and a big blue curly haired wig: blue triangles under his eyes and above them as well, a bright red smile and blue dimples to accent it. Finally, of course, the red nose. Next came his regalia: a loose, gigantic white outfit with green polka dots, and an orange tie with matching green spots; two purple shoes, size 32, and a top hat that was a perfect match for his oversized tie.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But I saw a clown with almost the same face over near the merry-go-round." Lou said the words with a false casual voice.

"Excuse me?" There was nothing mild in Arnie's voice. Clown faces were serious business. Every clown tried to look unique. Hell, there had been lawsuits over faces that were too similar and Arnie didn't much want to get involved in one of those. His face was close to one that had been used back in the sixties. He'd seen the clown as a kid and been stuck with that face in his mind, because the guy had left such an impression on him. It wasn't like he'd stolen the design: he'd just borrowed heavily from it. Besides, he remembered hearing the clown and his whole troupe had died a few months later in a bad fire.

By the time Arnie found the other clown, the fair had opened. The man was dressed in a bright red coat and suit, with enough sequins to just about blind a person. Unlike a lot of clowns, his outfit looked custom tailored to fit his tall, lean body. The outfit looked as if it had just been made and was finished off with a matching top hat and well polished dress shoes, complete with dark red spats. He was, without a doubt, the most dapper clown Arnie had ever seen.

The clown looked at him and Arnie saw the shock on the thin face, written under the makeup that left a smile painted in place.

"Well, what have we here, boys and girls?" Arnie blinked as the clown spun towards him, the bright blue eyes looking him over from top to bottom. Arnie swallowed hard and tried to recover from the unexpected change. The lanky clown moved over to him and slid up beside him with slick, almost spidery motions.

He leaned in close, and put his lips next to Arnie's ear. "What's your name, Ace?" "F-Fast Freddie." Rufo sprang back as soon as Arnie had answered. "Fast Freddie! I thought I'd never see you again!" His voice went up in octaves, high enough to almost sound feminine, and then he jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Arnie in a wild, exaggerated hug. Before Arnie knew what was happening, he was off the ground, lifted like he was nothing more than a child by a man who was thinner than he was. The arms around his ribcage squeezed like a python and for a moment he thought his ribs would break. Then he was sat down and Rufo stepped back, grinning broadly for everyone.

Arnie was following the man's every move, so he didn't really understand how the other clown had just vanished, but that was exactly what happened. He looked away for only an instant and Rufo was gone. There was a serious feeling that something was not right with Rufo the clown and that sense was only increased by the strength of the man.

"Please... please mister, I did like you asked, didn't I?" The sounds were coming from one booth over and Arnie looked around the rear corner of his resting spot and saw Lou trembling.

"You sure did, Mister Peasley. You did it just as nice and right as you could have, and that's why I gave you the fifty bucks." The voice was low and raspy and sent shivers of goose flesh across Arnie's back.

"Then why are you doing this?" Lou's voice cracked a bit.

"Know what the problem with you is, Mister Peasley?" Lou shook his head. "The problem is you sold out one of your friends for fifty bucks. How trustworthy do you think that makes you?"

"Oh God, Oh God, please no..." Lou backed up, his head shaking from side to side, and as he moved back the source of the shadow stepped forward. Rufo the clown looked at Mister Peasley and grinned. "That's just what Maddy said, right before I ripped his eyes out."

"What's that, Mr Peasley?" The man leaned over Lou and scrutinized his face.

"What's what?" Lou gasped as he started to sit up.

Rufo's hand shot forward and grabbed at Lou's face. Arnie watched on, unbelieving as the clown rammed his gloved thumb into the soft orb of Lou's left eye. "You've got something in your eye..."

Rufo laughed, a sound that had nothing whatsoever to do with joy. Then Rufo did it again. He reached out with his free hand and caught Lou's tongue between his finger and thumb. Lou kept screaming, trying to get away as the red flowed from his closed eyelid. Rufo pulled back and Lou's head followed for a moment before the flesh of his tongue sliced away from his mouth.

"Jesus Christ!" Arnie opened his mouth and said words before he realized what he was doing.

"Oh, Fast Freddie, I don't think He's here right now, do you?" Rufo winked at him and dripped Lou's tongue to the ground.

"Okay, Arnie. What we have here is a problem."

"You gonna kill me?" Arnie had no doubt the clown could. None at all. There was something about the man under the paint that unsettled him. Probably it was his violent tendencies.

Rufo looked his way and shrugged. "Well, I should. I mean, look at what I did to Mister Peasley over there, and he really didnt do that much to offend me." "Why did you do it?" "Why?" Rufo looked back at Lou, who was starting to crawl around. "Well, he really wasn't a very good clown, was he? I didn't see him make a single kid laugh."

"Without the makeup we're all just faces in the crowd. Why do you think clowns protect their faces so avidly?"

Rufo's eyes rolled towards the heavens. "I said, go kill Peasley and I'll let you live. You have to change the makeup, but other than that, we'll be even-stevens." "You can't be serious." Rufo popped up into a standing position like a jack-in-the-box and moved toward Arnie. Arnie flinched back as the other clown got right in his face. "Is this the face of a joker? Of course I'm serious! You or Peasley, who do you value more in this world?"

"I can't kill Lou. He's my friend!"

"He sold you out for fifty dollars, Fast Freddie."

"I can't do this. I'm not a killer." He shook his head and looked at the ground at his feet. "Not even if it was a mercy killing?" Arnie couldn't think of a proper response. So he went with the first thing that came to mind. "Okay, you took his tongue, but there's always a life as a mime." "Now how is living as a mime a good thing?" The other clown sounded indignant. "Well.. okay. That's true."

Couldn't we just settle this in court?" Arnie's voice was failing him and he squeaked like a kid who's voice was just starting to break. "Freddie," Rufo bent forward, his hands resting on his knees. "If I wanted to go to court, I'd have to prove to everyone that I'm still alive. You aren't worth the effort." He stood back up and looked down on Lou and Arnie alike. "Besides, there's that whole murder and mutilation thing to consider. Most courts don't like it when clowns go all violent."

Rufo stared at him for several seconds, the grin under his smile unwavering. Then he stepped forward and drove the heel of his foot into the flabby neck of Lou, who was still lying on the ground and moaning. Lou's face shoved hard in the dirt, and Arnie heard the bones in his neck breaking. There was no mistaking the sound, or the fact that it killed Lou instantly. "I'm here to stay Fast Freddie."

Arnie screamed. That was a bit more than he was willing to deal with, and he let loose with a girly shriek and bolted past the funnel cake stand and into the main area of the fair. He stopped when he'd cleared a good fifty yards and looked back, fully expecting Rufo to be on his heels, but there was nothing, no one.

By the time the police arrived, the security guard had Arnie hog tied with plastic bags and was strutting around like a rooster. The cops untied Arnie long enough to ask him a few hundred questions. When they were finished, Arnie was in the back of a police cruiser and wearing actual handcuffs instead of plastic bags. It took three days for Arnie to get up the bail to get out of his jail cell. He didn't much mind. One way or another his career as a clown was at an end

"I just wanted to make the kids happy, really. I like kids." He knocked back half of his beer in salute to the children and let out a deeply satisfying belch. "That's why I've decided to let you live anyway." Rufo's voice came from directly behind him.

Arnie couldn't have jumped higher if someone had electrified his ass. The other clown was standing behind Arnie's recliner, smiling, with Fireball in his hands. The traitorous cat was slumped along the clown's forearm and purring. "I thought about it, Arnie. You're a good clown. You make kids laugh." He shrugged and let Fireball drop into the chair, where the beast promptly got comfortable again.

Arnie looked carefully at the clown in front of him and shivered. The face he wore wasn't makeup. The triangles of blue had been cut into the other clown's face; as had the red lips and the dimples and the dot on his nose. He'd been wearing makeup to hide that fact at the fair.

"See why I'm partial to my looks, Arnie? They aren't going to go away. Find a new face and we'll get along just fine." Arnie just looked at the man and shivered. Insanity seemed to come off of Rufo like a palpable wave.

"I'm done here. Change your face or the next time I see you, I'll cut your face off your skull and make it into a seat cushion. Do we understand each other?" Arnie nodded his head so hard he thought he might break his own neck from the force.

"Take care of Fireball. He'll be watching you." The clown headed to the front door and stopped with his hand on the knob. "You know, if you mention me they'll think you're crazy right?"

"I won't mention you."

"Bonko's getting out tomorrow. He's probably gonna want to talk to you about the three years for stealing your truck."

Arnie nodded his head and smiled. "He's a bad clown." "What do we do with bad clowns, Arnie?" That was a quandary. He really wasn't sure how to answer, but the longer he looked into Rufo's eyes, the more he thought he understood. "We- we punish them?" Rufo nodded and smiled. "That we do, Arnie. Take care of my light work for me okay?"

Bonko was a big boy and he fought dirty, but Arnie nodded anyway. "I think I can do that. I really think I can." Rufo nodded one last time and quietly slipped through the door.

Arnie moved to the kitchen and looked at his assortment of knives. There were a couple of them that would fit through Bonko's ribs without any trouble at all, and the meat cleaver, well that could do a lot of damage to Bonko's head. "Gonna need a new face, anyway. Bonko's was always nice."

One Bad Week by James A. Moore

#rufo the clown #james a moore #rufo #my moodboards #evil clown #horror book recommendation #horror books #moodboards #rufo moodboard #one bad week #the joker #the new joker #rip off rufo

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