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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

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Hayloft p.4

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though), alcoholism/ drunkenness, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, murder

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Pretty lightly edited, just a warning

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Hey, hun, what can I getcha?” You leaned into your popped hip, pen and notepad in hand.

A man you hadn’t met before, clearly someone just passing through town, was sitting across the diner bar in a light blue button-up and suspenders. He was fairly clean cut save for the day-old scruff across his face. He studied the menu intensely before setting it down and looking up at you with a sweet-as-pie smile. “Can I please have coffee with some cream and the grits?” He asked with a southern drawl.

You scribbled down his order on the notepad, “That all?”

“Mhm, I think so. Thanks doll.” He slid the menu towards you before reaching for a newspaper that had been left on the counter beside him by the last patron. You turned around to pin the man’s order on the little turnstile for the chef when the little bell on the door rang.

Tucking your notepad back into the apron tied around your waist, you grabbed the pot of coffee from the counter and poured the man a cup of the rich black liquid. Next, you prepared a little ceramic cup of cream and walked back to set them on the counter in front of him. His polite thanks were only the background when you saw Arvin walk behind the man and shoot you a smile before settling down in a seat at the bar only a few seats away.

You walked over to him and leaned on the counter with a smile, “Well, hey there stranger. You on lunch already?”

Arvin nodded, looking to you hopefully, “Yeah ‘n I was hopin’ you might be too so I could grab a bite to eat with my favorite girl.”

“Shh!” You hushed him with exasperated wide eyes, like it should have been obvious that he needed to keep his voice down, because in your mind it was. You nodded your head to the other patrons in the diner. “Y’know word travels fast in little towns like this ‘n I don’t need my daddy findin’ out ‘bout us,” you whispered to Arvin who sighed in annoyed understanding. You knew he wasn’t annoyed at you but the situation was less than ideal.

He tapped his fingers on the counter and his knees bounced under the bar, “So is that a no for lunch?”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning but maybe you could ask Charlene if she could cover so you could take an early lunch. “Let me double check real quick.” You held up a finger to excuse yourself into the back to find your coworker.

No more than ten minutes later, you and Arvin walked out to his car with two take-out boxes of burgers you had managed to swipe from the kitchen in hand. He slid into the driver’s seat while you planted yourself beside him in the passenger’s. You handed him one of the boxes of food before opening your own and

digging into the small handful of fries. “So how is your day going so far?”

Arvin took a large bite of his burger, covering his mouth with his hand has he tried to speak and chew at the same time, “Ain’t too bad. I got an engine to rebuild for an old Ford when I get back but nothin’ too terrible. How ‘bout you?”

“Ready to go home already,” you chuckled, popping a fry in your mouth, “But it ain’t too bad here either. Just would like to not be here.”

Arvin laughed a little beside you, “I know how that feels. Thanks for the burgers by the way. I appreciate it. I don’t want you gettin’ in no trouble for stealin’ food.”

You shrugged off his concern, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. If people don’t eat it, it just goes in the trash anyways. I ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

He let out a heavy breath, resigning to your insistence, which he really just found an adorable confident stubbornness. A comfortable silence fell over the unmoving car as the two of you ate your lunches in the parking lot. When you finished chewing your bite, you looked over at Arvin, “How long you been livin’ with us?”

Arvin looked up at the brick wall straight ahead in thought, “Maybe five months now. Longer than I meant to-"

"I didn't mean it like that! I was just wonderin'...." you got awkwardly quiet for a moment, "Havin' you 'round has been the best five months in a really really long time."

"For me too. When I came into town, I thought I'd be livin' in my car. Didn't know how lucky I'd be gettin' to live with the most beautiful girl in the world." His hand reached over to your thigh, squeezing lightly.

Even after all of his sweet affections and compliments, they never failed to make your cheeks ache from trying not to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “You really think flattery will get you somewhere?” you giggled teasingly, turning towards him and nudging his leg with your hand.

“Well it got me in your house so…” He teased back, something that he had been doing more often in the last few weeks. Arvin had never been the most humorous of people, aside from the occasional chuckle or hidden smile. That had been changing since the two of you had gotten closer though.

“Uh, no! It might get you kicked outta my house though if my daddy ever finds out.” It started as chuckle but the words faded into concerned worry as you realized how true they could really be.

Arvin sensed the shift, “You really think your daddy would kick me out if he found out ‘bout us?”

You nodded, “Without a doubt. Would probably throw me out too.” You shifted so you were sitting on your bent leg, suddenly uncomfortable.

He began cautiously, “I mean… would that really be such a bad thing?”

You whipped your head to look at him, “I ain’t got nowhere else to live right now. I been savin’ up for a year to move out but it ain’t enough to buy a place of my own yet.”

“How much you got?”

That number was in your head immediately, one that you kept a running total of with every paycheck. “$4,317.” It wasn’t enough, though, and you knew it. Even the old run down houses around town cost $12,000, which meant you weren’t even halfway to the fixer-uppers, not that you minded buying a fixer upper. “I don’t need a mansion or nothin’ but it ain’t nearly enough for even something small.”

Arvin chewed his lip, thinking about the box of cash he’d been stashing away with each of his paychecks as well. He knew exactly what it was like in your position, struggling to save up the money to get on your own feet. He hated relying on others and, even though he really liked you, he hated depending on your and your father for shelter. “You ain’t gonna be stuck in this ol’ town forever,” he promised you and it came out just like that. A promise. “You’re too good for this place.”

Another smile forced its way onto your face at his words of hope, “I’ll get outta here eventually…”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice yelled your name and you flinched. You turned towards the voice to see your boss, Harold, standing at the backdoor of the diner with his hands on his hips. He gave you a stern look and tapped the watch on his wrist before pointing at you then jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Shit! I totally lost track of time!” You scrambled to gather up the trash from lunch and stuffed it into the paper bag you’d brought it out in. “I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Arvin had nearly jumped out of his skin when your name had been yelled, the only person he’d ever heard calling you that way being your father. He crumbled up the paper wrapper for his burger and stuffed it in the paper bag for you. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” you waved off the worry dismissively, “He acts all tough but he ain’t nothin’ but a softy.” You opened up the door and began to slide out when you stopped and took a quick glance around. Nobody was in the parking lot, or really anywhere in sight for that matter. In an impulsive swift action, you grabbed Arvin by the collar of his greasy shirt and pulled his lips to yours quickly before pushing him before anyone could see.

He looked stunned, big brown eyes wide and shocked by your courageous kiss. Your heart raced and your cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of actually sneaking a kiss to Arvin in public. It was a dangerous move but your dad was at work and there was nobody else around to see. You tried to hide your excited smile by chewing your bottom lip but it didn’t work. “Thanks for lunch, Arv.”

“Uh - y-yeah. Thank you for the burger.” Arvin stumbled over his words while you slid out of the car and closed the door behind you, leaving the poor boy struggling to make his brain catch up to reality.

“See you at home!” You waved one last time before turning. Arvin watched as you jogged back to the entrance of the diner, your little dress bouncing with every movement. You turned to give him one last glance before you disappeared behind the door.

Work had passed rather uneventfully for you. You put in the last few hours of your shift, went to the grocery store, and then headed home to start on dinner.

Arvin, on the other hand, the rest of his day at work had shaken the good feeling he’d had since his lunch break with you. He had found himself with a wrench in hand, trying to bolt back in the engine he’d been rebuilding for the last few hours. Grease smeared across his shirt, pants, and face despite how hard he tried to keep his dirty hands from ruining his clothes. Even if they were work clothes, he didn’t have that many sets of outfits nor the money to go out and buy more.

“My cousin lives o’er there with his wife. Said the sheriff up and disappeared for a while but they found him dead in the woods.”

Arvin’s head nearly hit the hood of the car that was propped up when he heard those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Davis and Fred, two of the other guys that worked at the mechanics shop, talking over two cans of beer.

“You hear anythin’ ‘bout that, Arvin?” Davis asked, sipping his can.

Arvin’s heart twisted in panic but he shook his head like hadn’t heard what they were talking about, “Hear ‘bout what?”

“Few months back, the sheriff in my cousin’s hometown turned up dead. Someone shot ‘im in the woods outside o’ some small town nearby. His name was like Lodeck or Bodecker or somethin’ like that.” Davis explained the story to both of the guys.

“Eh, pro’lly had it comin’,” Your dad came entered from the storage room with a handful of bolts, “I know I’ve met some sheriffs that deserved a bullet between the eyes.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you’re an angry drunk so I’m sure you’d say that ‘bout anyone who took a drink from you. I’m sure this guy wasn’t that bad. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? This ain’t no wild west movie where you go gunnin’ down the law.”

“Nah, I heard he was a no good son o’ a bitch. Guess his sister and her husband got murdered the day before. Found tons of pictures o’ them kissin’ on some dead guys. Some real sick shit, Fred. Sheriff might have been in on it too. Regardless, my cousin said he ran into ‘im one time with his wife and the sheriff really was a bastard,'' Davis shrugged off Fred’s comment, refuting the tragedy Fred was trying to make Bodecker’s death by tarnishing his name.

Arvin’s heart was racing and he began to feel dizzy. The images of those few days had haunted him since they had happened but he had found himself thinking about it less and less as the days passed.

“Arvin?”

Arvin shook his head out of the clouds and snapped back into reality, “What?”

“You came into town ‘round the same time all this happened. Did you hear anythin’ about it?” Fred questioned, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

The young man just shook his head, “Nah, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout it till now. I heard ‘bout the sister though. Sounds like she and her boyfriend were no good.”

“You know what I think?” Your dad began, picking up a wrench and pointing it in Arvin’s direction, “I think our man Arvin here did the sheriff in!”

Arvin stiffened up, “What? Why would you think that?”

“You come strollin’ along through town with nothin’ but a backpack and no backstory ‘bout the same time four people turn up murdered. Mighty suspicious.” Arvin tried his hardest to stand tall and not allow his fear to show but the tension in his jaw was bordering of painful now.

Davis swatted at your dad, “C’mon, leave the boy alone. There’s gotta be thousands of people in that area that coulda murdered them. Can’t imagine Arvin doin’ such a thing.”

Arvin was grateful for Davis’s trust. If only he deserved it.

“I’m only jokin’! Y’all a bunch of whiny little girls, can’t take a fuckin’ joke.” Your dad grumbled to himself, swatting his hand towards his coworkers.

“Ah, shut up.” Fred stood up from the table he’d been sitting at and laid back down on the dolley before sliding under the jacked up Chevy he had been tasked with. “Ain’t nobody ‘round here takes you seriously.”

Arvin watched as your dad walked past Fred, kicking him in the leg and earning a loud exclamation of annoyance, but it was as if he were disconnected from the whole scene. He had tried so hard to forget what had happened back in Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, though it seemed damn near impossible considering it had uprooted his entire life. This tiny town a few hours away was his safe haven, his new beginning. He never would have imagined that anyone this far away would have heard about the murders.

Hearing Davis and Fred bring up Bodecker’s name made Arvin’s blood turn to ice in his veins. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? Fred’s words played over and over in Arvin’s head. This was just what he was worried about. This was why he ran. Nobody would believe Bodecker was trying to kill him first. Self defense didn’t mean shit when it was against the law. The same with Reverend Teagarden. A man of the word? Arvin didn’t stand a chance if anyone found out what he’d done.

“Hey son,” Davis’s soft voice made Arvin nearly jump out of his skin, “Don’t take nothin’ that ol’ man says to heart. I’m sure you know since you been livin’ with him that he’s just a cranky ol’ drunk who don’t know when to shut up. You’re a good kid, Arvin. Ain’t none of us actually think you did it.”

Arvin looked down at where Davis’s hand rested on his shoulder, the same way his dad used to touch his shoulder when he was reassuring him. He forced a small appreciative nod and a strained appearance of being unbothered, “It’s alright, Davis. I know he’s just kiddin’ ‘round. I ‘ppreciate it though.”

Your father arrived at home before Arvin, much to your dismay. Elvis Presley’s Blue Hawaii album was spinning on the record player when he came into the kitchen, kicking his boots off by the door.

“Hey, daddy! How was work?” You asked, mashing a bowl of potatoes for dinner.

He made a line directly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the tab off with no effort, “It was alright. Damn Gilligan blew out the transmission on his truck so I been stuck fixin’ that up all day. Lookin’ forward to this right here.” Your father lifted up the beer bottle and sipped it with satisfaction. Yeah, I’m sure you were, you thought, rolling your eyes with your back turned to your dad.

“Well, if you wanna get cleaned up, dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. More than enough time for a shower,” you offered with a cheerful voice. Lunch with Arvin today had made your day good in a way that was hard to ruin.

“Yeah, I might go do that. What’s for dinner?” Your father walked over and peeked over your shoulder to see what you had cooking on the stove.

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken.” You cut in a few slices of butter and added them to the bowl of mashed potatoes, sprinkling some salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste.

Expecting some words of discouragement like you usually earned from your father, he just nodded contently and disappeared out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. You turned to watch him walk away, your mouth fallen open in pleased surprise at the fact that you just had a semi-pleasant interaction with your father for the first time in several weeks. You turned back to mixing in the now melted butter into the mashed potatoes when the front door opened yet again.

You looked back to see Arvin walking in through the living room, “Hey, Arv!”

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and judging by the way his eyes shot up to you, as if he hadn’t expected your greeting, he had been staring at the ground when he walked in. “Hi,” he answered low and short with no emotion one way or the other.

Your brows furrowed, “Everythin’ alright?” Leaving the food on the counter and wiping your hands on your apron, you walked out into the living room towards him.

Arvin visibly took a step back and his eyes widened a little, his shoulders squaring up, “Yeah, ‘m good. Just wanna take a shower.”

Before you could get the words out, he had already begun walking away. “My dad’s already in the bathroom,” you called out after him, finally getting him to stop.

Arvin didn’t turn back to you though, only half glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, alright.” He turned back to continue his walk back to his room.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” You attempted to add, only earning a small thanks in response and the sound of Arvin’s door closing. “O-oh… okay.” You stood alone in the living room, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and Elvis Presley’s voice filling the room but not loud enough to drown out your concern.

Dinner went by just as uncomfortably. You poked at your mashed potatoes, keeping your gaze stuck down at the food on your plate except for when you glanced over at Arvin who seemed to be actively looking anywhere except for you. This only made you roll your eyes out of frustration and stare back down at your food.

Your dad talked about his day, mostly grumbled complaints, “I don’t get nearly ‘nough respect ‘round here. Damn Fred and Davis callin’ me a drunk. What? A man can’t enjoy a damn beer without being called a drunk! Damn prudes.” When you didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped your arm, “Hey? You even listenin’?”

“Hm?” You tried to make yourself focus on what he was saying this time, “Sorry, long day. What happened?”

“See? I ain’t get no respect at work and I can’t even get no respect at my own damn house from my own damn daughter!” He grumbled, the feet of the wooden chair scraping against the ground as he stood up forcefully, swaying a little side to side but bracing himself on the wall to walk out of the room.

You didn’t even possess the mental capacity to care about his little tantrum. Your mind was swimming with confusion and, honestly, anger, at Arvin’s little unexplained silent treatment. “Okay, what’s wrong?” You asked, leaning towards Arvin.

“Nothin’.” He answered simply, taking a sip of his water. His voice was low and he still refused to make eye contact, despite nothin’ being wrong.

“That’s a lie. Everythin’ was fine this mornin’ and now you’re suddenly not talkin’ to me. Won’t even look at me! What the hell, Arvin? Did I say somethin’ wrong?” Thinking back, there wasn’t anything you had said earlier that you could imagine warranting such a negative response from Arvin so your confusion and concern had quickly turned to frustration.

Arvin shook his head, “No, no, you ain’t did nothin’ wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You practically begged him to tell you. You hated being upset at him when clearly something was bothering him but this felt like he was just playing some broody guessing game with you, something you got enough of from your dad.

Stress shone through Arvin’s eyes and he met your gaze finally, if only for a second, before looking away again. You could see there was a flicker of something you hadn’t seen in him before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him and you felt guilty for being upset. You just couldn’t understand why you suddenly were being ignored for something that apparently had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t tell you.”

Arvin’s admittal just made you more upset. “So you’re not mad at me but you’re ignoring me and can’t tell me why?”

Arvin hadn’t seen you look at him this way. At your father, yes, but he was unaccustomed to that raised eyebrow and frustratedly desperate crack in your voice being directed towards him. He hated it. He hated knowing that he was causing you to feel upset and helpless when he was supposed to be your escape from those exact feelings.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. You’d think he was a monster. You’d hate him. He’d lose the one good thing he had in his life because-

Arvin shook his head, “‘M sorry.” He looked anywhere but at you because he couldn’t stand to see the way your face fell, though he could practically feel your heart fall from across the table. He didn’t need to see it. He knew.

“Fine.” You stood up and grabbed your plate, scraping the rest in the garbage and setting the plate in the sink. Your appetite was gone and your patience had snapped, not that you had been the most patient thus far anyways.

Arvin watched as you stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed your coat off the coat rack by the front door, and walked out of the house. His head hit his hands. No matter how hard he tried to protect those he cared about, he only seemed to hurt them more.

You hadn’t expected Arvin to find you here so when the door opened to the old barn, you turned around in surprise. You were curled up in your coat, sitting on an old wooden crate that had been untouched in this unused barn for God knows how long. A large window looked out over the large field that had once been the family farm but was now practically a glorified dirt lot. Your coat was wrapped tightly around your body, held in place with one hand while you held a lit cigarette with the other.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Arvin took a few steps in, his hands shoved guiltily in the pocket of his denim jacket.

You blew out a large plume of smoke that you had been holding in and looked away, “I don’t too often.”

Arvin closed the barn door behind him as he approached you and you had to fight the urge to get up and leave but you knew that made you no less immature than the way you felt he was acting.

“‘M sorry. I really am.”

You took another drag and turned to him, the moonlight illuminating his features - somehow so boy-like but so rugged - and it was hard to stay mad at him. “I am too. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I just… I don’t understand, Arv. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. This whole silent treatment BS with zero explanation doesn’t cut it.”

Arvin let out a heavy breath. While doing the dishes from dinner for you after you stormed off, he had had time to contemplate what to do. And he had decided. “If I tell you, it’s gonna change how you look at me.”

Your head tilted up at his cryptic opener but you said nothing, only urged him to continue with your eyes.

With a deep shaky inhale, he started his story, “I ain’t a bad man but I’ve done some bad things. Things that I thought I could run away from. I been livin’ a lie for a long time, actin’ like I ain’t hurt nobody, but it ain’t true.” Arvin paused for a moment to gauge your reaction and all he saw was fear in your eyes, just as he had feared.

A million thoughts of terrible things people were capable of ran through your head as you tried to figure out which one Arvin could possibly be guilty of, though they all felt so out of character for him. Was it murder? Assault? Rape? Thievery? The man you had come to care for so deeply now swam in a murky pool of doubt and distrust. Arvin saw all this and more in your deep, worried eyes.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be, cracking with fear. Until today, you hadn’t imagined Arvin capable of doing anything that could real harm to anyone, maybe aside from a stupid fight in high school or something along those lines, but you could see it in his eyes that whatever it was he was trying to confess to really was that bad.

Arvin lost his ability to speak for a moment. He had resolved to tell you everything before even coming out here to talk to you but the fear shining in your eyes already had his heart breaking. It was as if every new line of moonlight reflecting off the growing whites of your eyes was a new stain that he managed to tarnish your view of him with. Arvin had to look away because he couldn’t bear to look at you when he finally admitted his crimes, couldn’t stand to watch your face contort in fear when you realized what a monster he was.

“Y-you remember that preacher I told you ‘bout? The one that hurt my sister?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah…”

Arvin swallowed hard and he gripped his thigh tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well few weeks after we buried Lenora, a police officer came up ‘n told me the coroner had found out she was havin’ a baby. None of us knew before. I don’t know how but I just knew it was that no good preacher. I didn’t have any proof though so I started followin’ ‘im ‘n found out he was worse than I thought. He was no good to his wife ‘n I saw him out takin' advantage of another girl in town who was even younger than my Lenora was. He was doin’ nothin’ but hurtin’ people ‘n I… I killed im.”

Your mouth fell open, “You- You killed him?”

Arvin looked down at his feet, “I shot him.”

It was silent as you processed the information. This preacher sounded like a terrible man, abusing young girls and leading one to commit suicide. The infidelity to his wife was a moot point against his other indiscretions and even that was unacceptable. It honestly sounded like Arvin had done a service to the world, taking this monster out of it, but it was still difficult to look at him the same after knowing that he had actually shot someone.

When you didn’t respond, Arvin had decided to continue, not thinking he could cause much more damage, “I ran. Left a note for my grandma and uncle and disappeared. I tried hitchhiking my way out of town when I got picked by this couple. They seemed nice ‘nough at first but the husband, he started actin’ real weird. They pulled us way off the road. Said he wanted to take some pictures but then I saw him pull out a gun and then he tried pullin’ me outta the car. I-I panicked and I kicked the door into him ‘n I shot ‘im before he could get me.”

Arvin’s voice was cracking as tears began to fall down his face. It was one thing to replay the memories in his own head but it was another thing entirely to actually confess his sins to someone he cared so deeply about, knowing the truth would most likely hurt you. “The wife, she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me ‘n I pointed mine at her. I begged her to put the gun down. I-I didn’t wanna shoot her. I really didn’t. I was so tired of killin’ but then she apologized ‘n I knew she was gonna pull the trigger. We both shot at the same time. I got no clue how she didn’t shoot me. I fell out the car without a scratch but I when I got up, I realized I got her through the neck 'n she was gone. I panicked ‘n searched the car. Found all these pictures of her all naked and huggin’ up on some naked dead guy ‘n I knew… I knew I was gonna be next.”

Your brain sprinted a mile a minute to try and keep up with the trauma Arvin was confessing and you didn’t know whether to hug him and let him cry on you or run as far away as possible.

“Then-”

“There’s more?” You wanted to beg him to stop talking, to stop telling you about the blood on his hands, to stop telling you about all the suffering he had been through. You sounded shocked and heartbroken and yet none of these tragedies were yours.

Arvin hiccuped and sniffled in a failed attempt to hide a sob. Red had taken over his features, both physically and metaphorically. Obviously distraught by his past and now your reaction, he felt like he was beginning to spiral down that hole of darkness that he had tried so hard to claw his way out of. There were nothing but snakes down there, ready to bite him and poison his mind with the words he had fought so desperately to keep out. Murderer. Stalker. Liar. Sinner. All of these and so many more.

Yet, he nodded, feeling as if he’d still be lying if he didn’t finish telling you everything. When he nodded, you made a small squeak of disbelief.

“I-I ran,” He sniffled out, “I hitchhiked my way back to my old hometown. I didn’t know why at first but I just needed to go home. Felt like maybe I could fix what had been broken there. Went there to find it all burnt down but then this sheriff came lookin’ after me. Turns out he was that lady’s brother - the one who shot at me and had the pictures of the cut up dead guys. He was all angry and wanted to kill me for shootin’ his sister. I tried… I tried to tell ‘im that she was no good and that she was gonna kill me but he didn’t wanna listen. He was shootin’ at me and… and… I ain’t had no choice.”

It was silent, aside from the ambient bugs chirping outside. You had tried so hard to focus on Arvin’s face but you had long since zoned out visually, only able to focus on the words he was saying. How could he have gone through all of this? How could your wonderful, amazing, beautiful Arvin Russell have survived so much suffering and been forced to murder people? Murder.

“Please say somethin’.”

Your lips quivered as your vision came back into view and all you saw was a tearful, fearful, remorseful boy before you on the brink of falling apart. Arvin’s hair was messy from having run his hands through it, his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, his breathing was shaky from remembering. There were no words.

You threw your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. You didn’t know what else to do. How does someone respond to information like this? There was so much trust that Arvin needed to put in you to tell you - you couldn’t freak out.

“You don’t hate me?” His hands flew to your arms, prying them off his neck so he could see your face.

Your head shook, “How could I hate you for what you did?”

“I murdered four people.”

“You took out a disgusting predator who practically killed your sister and was harming who knows how many other girls. Then you killed a couple of murderers who pulled guns on you first in self defense. And then, yet again, you were put in a life or death situation with a sheriff who was shootin’ at you for killin’ his murderin’ sister. Three of those were self defense and I’d dare say that first one was a public service. You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You have nothin’ to regret. You did what you had to do to survive.” You squeezed Arvin’s hands tightly, running your soft thumbs over the lightly calloused skin of his knuckles.

Arvin looked down at your hands on his, hands that were so much smaller than his own but right now felt so encompassing and comforting, as if they wrapped his own in a blanket of protection. He couldn’t believe you were okay with this. He was barely okay with it. “I don’t regret it but I didn’t wanna have to do it. If I coulda let that lady go, if she only woulda listened to me ‘n put the gun down I wouldn’t o’ had to pull the trigger. I coulda let the cops deal with it. Same with the sheriff. If only he woulda listened… I only wanted to shoot the preacher. I was okay with havin’ that on my conscience. But I had no idea how outta control that day was gonna get. All those cold dead eyes starin’ up at you, watchin’ the life drain from someone’s face ‘n knowin’ you’re the one who caused that... Even if they were real fucked up people, it ain’t a sight that’s easy to see.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, Arvin.” Your hand slid up his arm to rest on his bicep and you leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around your body and held you close but cautious, like he was scared if he held you too tightly that you’d be scared he’d hurt you too. Of course, you weren’t. The thought did cross your mind that perhaps it was unwise to trust a man who just admitted to killing four people but that wasn’t Arvin and you knew it. “You may have killed people but that does not make you a killer. You’re just someone who was put in some really hard situations and had to make some tough choices.”

You pulled back and put your hand on his cheek, slightly scratchy from not shaving that day, and you spoke gently, “You are wonderful, Arvin. You are caring and hard working and loyal and willing to stand up for what is right. You are everything good in this world-”

“I hurt people-”

“You protect people,” you corrected, “‘N if some bad people had to get hurt to keep the good ones safe, well maybe they shouldn’t have been such bad people.”

Arvin could have melted into a puddle at your feet, and likely would have if you hadn’t been holding him. Never had he expected to tell anyone his terrible deeds and in every imagined scenario in which he did, it had never ended well. He had imagined you running for the hills, screaming at him to get out, maybe even threatening him physically out of fear that he’d hurt you now (which he’d never dream of doing).

But you didn’t do any of that. Gentleness and understanding were far from the reaction he’d expected or even felt like he deserved but nevertheless here you were holding him and reassuring him that he wasn’t the monster he’d called himself for so many months.

“I love you.”

His admission surprised you but Arvin felt fully confident in his words. He had never known what love felt like - romantic love at least - but this was damn near the closest thing he could imagine to it. You occupied his thoughts every waking moment, your face and your voice swimming around his imagination in a beautiful ocean of warmth and kindness and goodness that he would gladly drown in. You were strong and responsible and understanding and oh so beautiful. Much like him, you’d been handed a shit hand by life and struggled each day to make the best of it. Arvin cared about you so much it scared him because he had not felt this compulsion towards anyone since Lenora had passed. After losing everything he’d ever loved, he was scared that if he admitted that he loved you, life would take you away from him as well. If there was one thing that you did, though, it was take away Arvin’s fear.

“I love you too, Arvin.” He pulled your body flush against his when you responded, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chest. Much like Arvin, you hadn’t known what real love felt like. You’d even started believing that maybe you weren’t meant for such a luxury.

Now you and Arvin felt like the richest people in the world, despite having almost nothing to your names. As long as you were in each others’ arms, you had everything. You were each others’ trust, honesty, comfort, compassion, and protection.

_______

Taglist:

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@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

@femmme-xxx-fatale

@kittyformannn

@aidinniram

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@mathletemadison

#arvin #arvin russell #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel imagines #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x you #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #the devil all the time #tdatt smut #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt imagine #tdatt x reader #hayloft

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dylanxmin · 4 years

Text

sweet boy | kth

pairing; taehyung x reader

genre; western, fluff, humor, slight enemy to lovers au?

rating; pg-15

warnings; swearings, slight make out, and lots of whining

word count; 1.5k

summary; y/n visits her parents on the farm, and meets the boy they adored so much.

a/n; This is part of the Bangtan Rodeo Drabble Game hosting by @hobiance ♡ also thank you for requesting this honey, hope you’ll like it ♡ ♡

a/n2; hope y’all having a nice time while reading this one!! i don’t know if it’s good, so let me know if it’s. ;) thank you for reading it, love y’all ♡

''Remember, you love your parents. The only thing that matters is this,'' you whisper to yourself under your breath. Sure, you liked your parents, you adored them. But, did they have to live on a farm? Is it the thing where you would want to live when you get older, or is it just your parent's choice.

You take one final breath before dropping the farming tools from your hands in anger. You had enough of this! You got mud on your clothes, your hands, and of course, on your face. You're sweaty, dirty, and furious because of the boiling sun.

Why did they choose to live in here over your beautiful, less muddy city? Seriously, why?

''Oh, Petal, come back home. Your mom made lemonade for us- Plus, we got a visitor.'' your dad shouts from the porch, gesturing you to come back to home.

Sweet Alabama!

You did go to your house, almost run there. You want to get a shower and be clean again, as soon as possible. Your quick run made you even more sweaty, and you just want to relax under cold water.

''Oh, baby, meet with Ta-''

''Can't talk, too sweaty!'' you pass through your mother and didn't even land an eye on the stranger she is talking about. It might look as a rude move, but in your defense, you are too worn out to care about.

After brushing your hair, happily you get down to where your parents sits. You find them on the porch, sitting around the round table, laughing at something. You see the stranger's back and the big straw hat. It was similar to the one your dad has, and you hold your laughter forcefully. C'mon, it is a funny hat.

''Oh, petal. Here, meet with Taehyung.'' your mom introduces you to the man in front of you. Who sits between your parents, drinking your mother's lemonades, and wearing the funny hat. ''He is a big help with us in here, and has the sweetest soul!'' your mom says joyfully and it's surprise you how she describes him, with a bright smile on her face.

No way that you're jealous of him.

What to be jealous about? His funny hat, or his cute smile? Maybe his adoring eyes, or his thick lips? What are you thinking about? Why are you thinking about his look all of a sudden? For god sake...

''Hi, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, I guess,'' you whisper the last part, only your mother would hear you and slightly pinch your arm. You look at her with knitted brows, ready to say something but she is not looking at you, rather, landing her gaze on Taehyung, and gives him the biggest smile. Why they love him so much? Because of his funny-looking hat?

''Hi, how are ya'?''

Don't laugh. Don't you dare to laugh. Okay, he got a little slang over there, so what?

''I'm doin' fine. What about ya?'' you couldn't help but imitate him. Obviously, you did drag up the imitating a little, as your mom pinch your arm once again. But you just annoyed how they liked him so much, to be honest.

''Good, good.'' he lets a scoff with an unsafe gaze. You tilt your brows up, challenging him on this threatening gaze race. Does he think that you would be scared of him? Poor boy...

''You said that she is havin' a hard time with farming, right Miss Park?'' his daring eyes find your mother's face, and looks at her softly. You got to be kidding me!

Of course, you did understand what he is up to, but before you could talk, he cuts you off.

''I could show her some tricks if you let me,'' he says gently. He is trying to mess with you, just because you made fun of him? You'd like to strike back and beat him at his own game, but getting mud all over you just didn't sound fun.

''I guess, I can hand-''

''Oh, of course, darling!'' this time, your mother cuts your words to encourage him to play with you.

While you sending a look over your parents, screaming 'how could you' with your eyes, Taehyung gets up already, passes through you, and leaves the porch. You feel like throwing up, regret taking all over your body, while sweat starts to build up in your neck, all over again.

''Aren't you comin'?'' he calls you from far. You feel drained before even go there, and diving in the mud. You look at your parents once again, they smiled and wave at you. ''Have fun, darling.'' your dad says before taking a sip from his lemonade.

Yes, you'll have fun. Totally.

''I'm so tired! I think I'm going to faint. It's so hot. Oh my god-''

''Just shut your big bazoo, forsake!'' he roars while trowing the tool from his hands.

You stay still, froze for a second. A chill gets over your body, nails clenching the head of the shovel. How could he dare to yell at you? Yes, maybe you did whine too much, did everything wrong, and made him make it all over again. But you didn't want to be here, he literally forced you into this.

''Can't ya' just shut up for a sec?'' he rolls his eyes for the third time today. ''What a coffee boiler, sake..''

''What did you just say?'' you bossed, hitting the shovel to the mud. Anger starts to build in you once again. You didn't know what 'coffee boiler' means, but you did guess it is not something good.

''I said that you are such a coffee boiler. Annoying, whiney, and a lazy girl you are!'' his veins visible on his neck while screaming at you. With each word, he got closer to you.

''Oh, I'm sorry that I'm not good playing with fucking mud!'' you snapped back. Blood boiling in your veins with the disgust you feel inside. Who does he think he is? He thinks he can yell at you just because your parents love him? And, your parents seriously called him sweet. You couldn't see any sweet dripping on him, though.

''Uh, It's clear as day you're a city-slicker. You know that, right?'' he rolls his eyes once more, taking one step closer.

A city-slicker?

''What is that even means!'' you yell, couldn't hold your growing anger inside of you, closing the small gap between you. ''You keep talking your gibberish while I'm trying to live a life!'' you add, panting.

After a moment, you realized how close you two standing, noses almost bumping each other. And from this close, you couldn't hold your self from eying his face.

His beautiful face.

His chocolate orbs glowing madly, round face having a little cute nose on it, with admirable lips. He is one charming boy, and you just recognized it. You open your eyes to speak, but his hands cup your face, cutting your breaths. You didn't know what to say, anyway.

''So, I should shut that big bazoo, huh?''

You couldn't find the right words for a second, your mind is numb, as well as your cheeks, where he cares with his thumbs.

''P-please,'' you could only manage to whisper, you had no strength in you to talk. You feel desperate for his kiss, while your eyes darting between his lips and his eyes. For a second you did hate this man with all of your parts, but now, all you could ask was his lips.

He takes you into a kiss that includes lots of emotions. Anger, hate, passion, and sweetness. Your vision goes white with the touch of his lips, mind goes numb.

He is trying to conquer you over this kiss, and you gladly let him do that. The mud or the hot didn't bother you anymore, not while under his magical kiss. You pull him by the collar of his shirt, need him to be closer.

''I-hım!'' your kiss ends the way it starts. Rapid, and shockingly. ''Come and eat your sandwiches, you lovebirds.'' your dad chuckles under his beard, probably they know that you'll end up having a makeout session with Taehyung, as you get it from how your dad looks at you.

''I guess we should go, yeah?'' Taehyung holds your hand to pull you inside. You surprise how he stays at ease. You never felt this embarrassed in your life, while he was okay with all of this.

''I liked what we just did. So there is nothin' to be embarrassed.'' He pulls you in another kiss before going inside but quicker this time.

He puts his hat at your head while you eating what your mom made for you two.

''You’re hotter than a tin roof in August. Ya' know that?'' he says while eying you with his sheepish smile.

''Okay, is it a good thing?'' you ask, couldn't understand if it's good or bad, because this could mean something different. So, you wanted to be sure. But he stays silents while smirking at you.

''Taehyung... What that suppose to mean?'' you insist, but he doesn't say anything. What an annoying man... ''Taehyung, c'mon!''

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanhq #heartsforbts #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung humor #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #dylanxmin

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buckyodinson · 5 years

Text

Undisclosed Desires (Javier Peña x fem!Reader)

Request from anon: I loved reading "The First" w/ Jack so much, and I was wondering if you would consider writing something like that but for Javier? Like it's her first time and she's obviously nervous/shy and Javi is (obvs) not and maybe some softness?❤️🥺 Thank you and ily!

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I wanna pre-empt this by saying I have not watched Narcos, so know next to nothing about Javi other than what I’ve read in other people’s fics, so I hope I did him justice! 🤞🏻 and again, I’m not the best at smut so I hope that’s okay too!

It had been a long day at the embassy. You were pacing around your desk as far as the phone cable would allow, sighing deeply as you spoke with one of your superiors back in the States. Yet another member of the Medellín cartel had escaped today and he was on everybody’s ass about it, as usual. You’d spent the best part of the day out pursuing this cartel member, but at the last minute, he managed to slip away from you and Murphy. After Murphy had his grilling over the phone and was allowed to go home, it was your turn having to explain yourself on the phone to your asshole of a boss.

“Listen, sir, I understand you’re pissed. We all are too, it’s just th-“ you stopped abruptly and threw the handset down, missing the base entirely, sighing as you watched the handset bounce and hang limply off the side of your desk. Javier watched from his desk, raising an eyebrow at the sudden outburst.

You all but melt into your chair, running your hands over your face and groaning into your palms. You take a few deep breaths before moving your hands to your lap and opening your eyes. When you do, you’re met with Javier bending down to pick your phone up and put it in its receiver. He perches on the edge of your desk, giving you an uncharacteristically soft smile, “You need a break.”

“That’s the last thing I need, Peña. Not with Bellamy breathing down my neck.” You sink further into your chair and bring your feet up to rest on your desk.

“All the more reason to take a break.” He tentatively brings a hand to rest on one of your ankles, rubbing a thumb along it gently, “You’ll burn out, and make mistakes, and piss Bellamy off more.” You look down at your feet, and blush when you see the gentle swipe of his thumb over your ankle.

“I don’t know how you do it, Peña. You never let it get to you.” You reluctantly remove your feet from your desk, immediately missing the warmth of his hand, and grab your blazer from the back of your chair. You slowly stand and put it on.

“Trust me, dulzura, it gets to me. I just have my ways of letting the stress out. I’d recommend it.” He gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. He chuckles as he saunters back to his own desk.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be taking your advice there.” You smirked, but your embarrassment was evident with the heat rising in your cheeks.

You’d be lying if you said you had no feelings towards your colleague. The infamous Javier Peña. Known to frequent several brothels across the city - sometimes for information, sometimes just for pleasure. You wished that these tendencies put you off the man, but nothing allowed you to shake those feelings. When you walked past his apartment to reach your own, and you heard the moans from inside, you would feel a pang of jealousy, wishing it were you in there.

You felt like a schoolgirl, and you felt ridiculous for feeling the way you did about him. He clearly didn’t feel the same about you, and even if he did... well, once he found out you were a virgin, you’re sure he’d run back to Freckles, or any of the other girls he visits. Back to someone he knows will give him a good time.

“I’m telling you, there’s no better way to end a stressful day.” He continued as he put on his own blazer, breaking you out of your daze.

“I’m more of an alcohol and wallow-in-self-pity kinda girl myself.”

“No wonder you’re so pent up at work. I’m sure men practically throw themselves at your feet at bars. Take one home and I promise the stress will just drip out of you.” He smirked and you didn’t miss the tone of his voice shift in that last sentence, blushing at the double meaning.

“I’m not that kinda girl, Javi.” You sighed as you rummaged around your desk looking for your car keys.

“Could always use me instead of some random guy from a bar?...” he smirked and looked up at you expecting a witty reply, but saw you rooting through one of your desk drawers. “Havin’ trouble over there?”

“Can’t find my goddamn keys. Jesus, can nothing go right today?!” You groaned and kicked your chair away from your desk.

Immediately Javi was in front of you, hands coming to rest on your forearms, “Just calm down, muñeca. This is what I’m talking about - you’re overworked. I’ll drive you home, it’s not problem.”

“Thank you, Javi.” You gave him a small smile and he led you out of the embassy.

You climbed into his Jeep and on the drive to your apartment complex, you wondered how many other women had sat in this seat before you, being driven to Javi’s place and shown a good time.

“Stop it.” Javi’s voice cut through the silence.

“I wasn’t doing anything?” You bit back.

“You were thinking too hard. Could practically hear the gears grinding. Just forget about today. What’s done is done. You can’t do anything more about it right now, so relax.” He kept his eye on the road as he spoke.

“I’ve already forgotten about that asshole, Javi. That’s not what I’m thinking about.” You stared out the window, blushing profusely.

“Thinking about my offer from earlier?” You can hear the smirk and you turn to face him.

“What offer?”

“Earlier. I said you could take me home instead of some random guy. Then we’re both getting rid of the stress.” He raised his eyebrow as he turned briefly to look at you and wink before looking back at the road ahead.

“Real funny, Peña.” You deadpan and you subtly squeeze your thighs together at the thought. Javier doesn’t miss this action and he smirks, seeing the affect he has on you.

“I’m not joking, princesa.” He says softly as he parks his jeep outside your apartment complex.

You quickly take off your belt and get out of the car, attempting to make a quick getaway, but Javi grabs your arm gently and makes you face him, “Y/N, look at me. Listen, I’m sorry if that was too far, but I genuinely mean it. And not in the way you probably think. This job... seeing you out there kicking ass everyday and almost getting shot or killed... it’s made me realise that I love you.” His chocolate eyes bore into yours and you could tell he was telling the truth, and it made your heart burst.

A smile made its way across your face, “I feel the same, Javi.” His eyes lit up at your admission, and he leaned slowly down to capture your lips. You happily melted into the kiss, moaning as he pressed himself against you. You reached a hand into his hair and he groaned as your nails brushed against his scalp. As you leaned backwards and felt Javi’s Jeep behind you, you were suddenly very aware that you were out in the middle of the street and you pulled away. His lips chased yours for a second before he pulled back to look at you, breathing heavily.

“Let’s go inside.” You spoke quietly and pulled him along with you, smiling at the grin that spread across his face.

You climbed the stairs to your floor of the complex, and took him past his apartment until you reached your own. You fished your keys out of your bag and opened the door, motioning for him to go inside, shutting the door behind the pair of you.

He stood in the small hallway, a little awkwardly and you moved past him towards your kitchen. You grabbed two glasses and poured a glass of whiskey for each of you. Javier graciously accepted and downed his almost immediately, watching you sip at your own. He had a little look around your apartment, admiring the little decorations you had strewn about, before settling down on your sofa and patting the space next to him. You finished your drink and joined him on the sofa, and his lips immediately found yours again. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls you into his lap, gripping your thighs tightly. He moves one hand to your back and pushes you flush against him, deepening the kiss. Your hands find their way into his hair again, and you squeal when suddenly he’s picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom.

He places you down on your bed so softly before lifting his shirt over his head and crawling back over you. Your hands roam the expanse of his back as he litters wet open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He continues lower and lower until his mouth reaches the waistband of your trousers, and he begins to undo the button when you suddenly freeze, “Javi, wait.” You breathe heavily.

“What is it, mi amor?” You look down and see his blown pupils staring back at you, worry painting his features.

“I just...” you take a deep breath and cover your eyes with your hands, embarrassment settling in.

You feel him move back up the bed, and when he speaks, you hear that he’s above you, “Is everything okay?” his soft voice calms you down, and he peels your hands away from your face and smiles down at you.

“I’ve just... I’ve never done... this before. We were moving so fast, and I-uh-I panicked. I’m sorry.” You slowly admitted, worried about his reaction, but the warm smile remained on his face.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry I rushed into this. You’ve gotta be ready. I can wait for whenever that may be, it’s okay.” He lowered himself to lay beside you, and you rolled on your side to face him properly.

“Thank you, Javi. I’m sorry.” You ducked your head down and he leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“You don’t have to apologise.” He whispered into your hair.

“Will you stay the night?” You asked shyly against his chest.

“Of course.” You looked up and he kissed you softly.

You stood up and went to the bathroom to change, coming back to your bedroom in a t-shirt and sleep shorts, finding Javier smoking a cigarette by the window in just his boxers. You walked behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your forehead between his shoulder blades, kissing the skin there. He smiled as he used his free hand to wrap around yours, sighing contentedly.

You gave his skin one last kiss before slowly removing your arms from his waist and walking back to bed. Javi put his cigarette out before following you, climbing in behind you and pulling your back to his chest.

“Thank you for staying, Javi.” You sighed as he kissed your jaw.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He pulled you even closer and pressed his nose into your hair, tracing small circles into the skin of your stomach under your shirt. The gentle touch lulled you to sleep, and he followed soon after.

With the stress of the job, you rarely ever got a full night’s sleep, but that night, both you and Javi had the best sleep you’d had in months, if not years. When you awoke, Javi was on his back, snoring lightly, and you were tucked into his side. His arm was wrapped securely round your waist, and you relished in the feeling, shuffling even closer to him and resting your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. You stayed there for what felt like hours, tracing little shapes into the skin of his hips that were just peeking out of his boxers. After a few minutes of this, his soft snores stopped, and you felt him stir.

He gave your waist a little squeeze and when you looked up at him, you swear you fell in love all over again. His hair was messy, and a few strands were stuck to his forehead, and the lopsided grin he gave you with his little squinted eyes was enough to make your heart stop.

“Morning, dormilón.” You smirked at him, and he chuckled at your Spanish.

“Morning, angel.” He ran his fingers through your hair, and that feeling combined with his rough morning voice pulled a small moan from the back of your throat. You immediately blushed and tried to bury your face in his chest, but he rolled you over and looked down at you, smiling, “Don’t be embarrassed, dulzura. You sound beautiful.”

This Javier was so different to the usual suave, rough man you usually saw at the embassy (not that you didn’t find that version of Javi incredibly attractive). This sweet side to him made your heart flutter in your chest, and made your thighs clench. You reached your hands up to tangle them in his hair and pull his lips down to your own. He happily obliged, and your teeth clashed from the force of the kiss, which made you giggle lightly into the kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he pulled back to look down at you, “Are you sure you’re ready, mi amor?” He raised an eyebrow but you saw genuine concern in his eyes.

“Yes, Javi. I want this. Want you.” You panther and he leaned back down to adorn your neck with kisses and little bites. His hands moved softly down your sides before lifting your shirt up slowly, fingertips ghosting your skin. A groan escaped his lips once he lifted the shirt over your head, and he took in the sight of your naked chest. You were a little embarrassed, but seeing the look on his face made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive.

“So beautiful...” you blush even further and he dips down to kiss you again, one hand trailing up your stomach to palm at one of your breasts and rolling your nipple between his fingers, earning a moan from you. He moves onto the other breast while his kisses down your jaw, leaving a bruise on your neck in his journey down to your breasts.

You’re panting by the time he reaches your chest, where he leaves little nips and bites littered across your skin, sighing when he kisses further down your stomach. He reaches your shorts and looks up at you to confirm you’re still okay. You nod quickly, not trusting your voice, and he slowly pulls your shorts and your underwear down your legs, kissing the skin that is revealed.

Once you’re bare before him, he slowly parts your legs and settles in between them, adorning your inner thighs with kisses, getting closer and closer to where you want him most. The slight scratch of his mustache against your thighs sends a shiver up your body, and you feel him smirk against your skin. One of his hands is interlocked with one of your own, while the other is being slowly dragged down your body from your breasts to your core. His hand and mouth both reach your heat at the same time. Javi uses his fingers to spread your folds before licking a stripe through them, and your free hand grips the sheets until your knuckles turn white. He quickly latches into your clit, methodically adding pressure before removing it and just ghosting it with his tongue, moving closer to your entrance before doubling back and repeating, the mustache doing wonders as it brushes against your skin too.

Javi hums his approval deep in his throat, and the vibrations against you only fuel the pleasure further. He moves his fingers and lightly traces your entrance with them, before slowly pushing one in. You moan lewdly and he groans in satisfaction.

“So tight... so perfect for me.” He whispers against your clit as he pumps his finger in you, adding another once your clawing at his hair.

“Please, Javi- oh God!” You sigh when he removes his fingers, watching as he sucks them into his mouth and groans.

“I want you, Javi.” You reach out for him and he crawls until he’s level with you.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yes, Javi. Please.” You practically beg and he captures your lips once more as he pulls his boxers off. He quickly jumps up and grabs his wallet, where he fishes out a condom and rolls it on before jumping back into bed and kissing you again. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in, going slowly so you can get used to it, or ask him to stop if needs be. It’s painful at first and a few tears do escape your eyes, which are pressed tightly closed. He wipes the tears away and kisses along your cheeks until he bottoms out.

You’re breathing heavily and digging your nails into his back, eyes still screwed shut, and he stills, waiting for you. He pressed chaste kisses along your jawline until he feels you relax under him and he looks up to see your eyes open, “Please move, Javi. I’m okay.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles lowly at the blush that paints your face and chest. The pain was soon overtaken by pleasure as Javi softly rocked into you, only picking up the speed when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed him deeper into you.

“Eres mi todo...” he whispers against your neck before sucking a mark into your collarbone.

“God, I love you, Javi.” You’re shocking yourself by saying these things while he’s on top of you like this, but you just can’t help it. The way he’s pushing into you feels good enough, but when he reaches a hand down to rub your clit, it’s all over. Your vision goes black for a split second, your entire body tenses up, and you cling onto Javi like your life depends on it, while he carries on riding you through your high and he soon follows you to complete bliss. As you both come down from your highs, he lazily kisses up your neck until he reaches your lips, and captures them in a passionate kiss.

He pulls out slowly, quickly disposing of the condom in your bathroom and grabbing a wet cloth, coming back to clean you up, stroking your hair as you lay there panting. He puts the cloth back on the bathroom, and when he re-emerges, you’re still lying there, and he stops and just stares at you. He thinks you look ethereal, and he can’t quite believe what just happened.

Since you joined him and Steve at the embassy, he’d fallen for you. It was a very foreign feeling to him, and he tried to fuck his feelings away with his usual girls, but he would always be thinking of you, and would smoke a cigarette and leave immediately afterwards. He lit a cigarette and moved over to your window, thinking about how lucky he was, “You okay over there, sweetheart?” He smirks at you still laying in bed where he left you.

“Yeah, I’m great. I just don’t trust my legs right now.” You giggle, still in a bit of a daze.

Javi sniggers and puts his cigarette out, joining you in bed once more, pulling you flush against him, “So, how was that for a first time?”

“It was perfect, Javi. You were perfect.” You smiled back at him and kissed his chin.

You had a lazy morning since neither of you had to be in the office until midday. You danced around your living room to some old records, and Javi made you breakfast. Javi went back to his apartment to get ready and you did the same, meeting him out by his jeep so he could drive you both to work. He kept a hand on your thigh the entire drive there.

When you arrived at the office, Steve was already at his desk, hunched over some paperwork, phone held between his ear and shoulder. He covered it with his hand while he spoke to you, “Bellamy has called twice this morning already, still wants to chat about yesterday.” Steve waited for the inevitable swearing from you but you simply sighed and sat down at your desk, removing your jacket and getting comfy.

“What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?”

“I bet she finally gave into all the stress and took my advice and picked some guy up at a bar and let him give her a good time.” Javi piped up as he leaned back in his chair.

Murphy raised an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes at Peña while smirking, “A lady never tells.”

Murphy chuckles and shakes his head as he turns back to his desk and Javi shoots you a wink, to which you blush profusely.

—————

(These are 100% google translated, so I apologise if anything is wrong!!)

Dulzura - sweetness/sweetheart

muñeca - doll

princesa - princess

mi amor - my love

dormilón - sleepyhead

Eres mi todo - you are my everything

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #javier pena x fem!reader #javier peña x fem!reader #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfic

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mememanufactorum · 4 years

Text

Halo: Reach quote starters

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

-Noble Actual-

“You read his file?”

“Anyone claim responsibility?”

“Consider it done.”

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re stepping into some shoes the rest of the squad would rather leave unfilled.”

“I’m glad to have your skill set, but we’re a team. That lone wolf stuff stays behind.”

-Winter Contingency-

“Just get me under the hood.”

“You get a chance, maybe you can ask them.”

“I’m lonely already.”

“Shoot down attempts are likely, so keep your distance.”

“Let’s stay focused. Watch your sectors.”

“Let’s check it out.”

“I want your eyes in the sky.”

“Why are we not seeing explosives residue?”

“There’s a lot of blood on the ground.”

“Looks like there’s nothing here. Let’s move on.”

“You have permission to engage, but be selective. We don’t need to telegraph our presence.”

“Go in quiet. I’m right behind.”

“On your knees, now!”

“They’re not rebels, they’re farmers. Look at them.”

“What the hell was that?”

“Cheer up, big man. This whole valley just turned into a free fire zone.”

“No disrespect, but don’t we have better things to do than round up strays?”

“We don’t leave people behind.”

“I’ve cut about halfway through the door.”

“Where’s the rest of your unit?”

“Found something.”

“I’ll take that. Not your domain.”

“It’s all right. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Keep still, and I’ll release you.”

“Flush ‘em out. I’ve got you covered.”

“You’re in my light.”

“What’s your name? Do you live around here?”

“Your accent sounds familiar.”

“Big man forgets what he is sometimes.”

“Best not touch anything. You wouldn’t want to ground this place.”

“May God help us all.”

-ONI Sword Base-

“Regrettably, my efforts to obtain relevant data on enemy forces has been unsuccessful.”

“Let’s knock some heads!”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Can’t do this on my own!”

“Are you havin’ fun yet?”

“Beautiful, ain’t it. Someone should take a picture.”

“Nice work, by the way.”

“I aim to please.”

“Been all hers half my life.”

“I requested your assistance and do not need reports on events that occur on my own doorstep.”

“It’s been too long.”

“What have you done with my armor?”

“Just some… Additions I’ve made.”

“Perhaps you could shed some light on his death.”

“We had other, more urgent matters to attend to.”

“Before you ask, I was alerted the moment you tried to access its contents. As I am with any unauthorized tap.”

“I could send you to the brig for interfering with my work.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Just making a reading suggestion.”

-Nightfall-

“It’s starting to get crowded up here.”

“Direct action is always necessary.”

“Here. You may need these.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“Looks like we’ve really pissed them off.”

“Give us a hand! Bastards just keep coming!”

“Little more action than we’re used to.”

“What are you doing here? Whole area’s supposed to be evacuated.”

“Didn’t like leaving it to someone else to protect our home, so we came back.”

“You know this stuff is stolen.”

“What? You gonna arrest me?”

“Gonna steal it back.”

“That’s no strike force, it’s an invading army.”

“If we’re gonna smother this thing, we need to go in hard and fast.”

“Sun will be up in a few hours… And it’s gonna be a very busy day.”

-Tip of the Spear-

“Might want to hold on to something!”

“We shouldn’t stay here.”

“I’ll hold these bastards off.”

“Have a nice day.”

“One way to get their attention! Hang on to your teeth!”

“No, no! Somebody tell me this ain’t happening!”

“We need to get out of here now!”

-Long Night of Solace-

“Forty-eight hours? That’s imminent?”

“Uh-oh. Who’s your money on this time?”

“You always pick her.”

“She’s always had him dialed in.”

“That thing’s crushing us and we’re waiting for backup? They’ll be backing up a graveyard.”

“You’re preaching to the converted.”

“I know that look.”

“You can say no.”

“You don’t even want to hear it?”

“...Fine. I’ll hear it.”

“And this is relevant… How?”

“Not the word I would use.”

“Don’t cut yourself.”

“This sanctioned?”

“What do you think?”

“Thank you for sharing.”

“As a soldier in the field, I couldn’t possibly have access to those kinds of resources.”

“You’re scary, you know that?”

“Good luck with that.”

“You’re the one who’s asking him.”

“Oh, there’s no way in hell he’s gonna go for this.”

“Some plans are too good to say no to.”

“Show them what you can do!”

“This breaks my heart…”

“Discourage the curious.”

“Hear that? I’ll be all by my lonesome back here. Make it quick, would ya?”

“Nothing we can do.”

“At your earliest convenience.”

“Damn it… So it’s gonna be like that.”

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“And the good news?”

“That was the good news.”

“That’s a one way trip.”

“We all make it sooner or later.”

“Time has come to return the favor. Don’t deny me this.”

“Tell ‘em to make it count.”

-Exodus-

“You got to be kidding me.”

“Damn, how do you stop that thing?!”

“Help! Somebody help us!”

“They’re coming! They’re after us!”

“Come on! Let’s go!”

“What are those things?!”

“Somebody shut that damn thing off!”

“What the hell is taking this thing so long?”

“Glad you’re on our side.”

“City’s been under siege for the last five days.”

“Guess some of us don’t like leaving a job half-finished.”

“Son of a bitch! I can’t watch this…”

“How’s the day so far?”

“Just keeps getting worse, huh?”

“You saved a lot of lives today.”

“He didn’t make it.”

-New Alexandria-

“Sorry I came alone.”

“Make him proud.”

“I said back off, you nasty son of a bitch!”

“Damn! Look how they move!”

“Look at this place. Used to be the crown jewel… Not anymore.”

“Hey, you made it!”

“It’s a regular family reunion.”

“Keep ‘em. He gave ‘em to you.”

“I’ll honor him my own way.”

“The big man was sentimental…”

“He gave his life thinking he just saved the planet. We should all be so lucky.”

“I hear what I hear.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You want to know if we’re losing?”

“I know we’re losing! I just want to know if we’ve lost.”

“Keep it brief.”

-The Package-

“We’re gonna have to thin ‘em out, or we’ll be way too popular.”

“We’ve got a job to do, so let’s stay focused and get it done.”

“Looks like they got themselves cornered.”

“They were committed to the position.”

“I’m going with cornered. There’s nothing here.”

“If we’re supposed to blow this place, this ain’t the spot to do it from.”

“I didn’t bring my shovel.”

“Alright, we came this far.”

“Apologies for the unusual security measures, but the stakes demand it.”

“Yes, well, as they say, news of my death has been greatly exaggerated.”

“Not sure I understand.”

“Whatever we’re doing down here, we better do it quick.”

“I don’t think you understand. We’re out of time.”

“Bury any of it, and you bury mankind’s best chance for survival!”

“Please. Buy me all the time you can.”

“What is this stuff?”

“Her measure of you carries as much weight as my own… Perhaps more.”

“Mankind is outmatched.”

“An apt question if there were somewhere else to place our hope. There is not.”

“Do you have it?”

“Say the words, please.”

“I have it.”

“I require no escort.”

“Make sure nothing falls into enemy hands.”

“I’ll do what’s necessary.”

-The Pillar of Autumn-

“You are alarming me.”

“Not sure how long she’s gonna stay together.”

“Don’t wanna hear it.”

“Go with him. It’s a ground game now.”

“It’s been an honor.”

“I’ll do what I can to draw their fire.”

“She made the right choice.”

“Stay low, let me draw the heat.”

“You think we got time to walk over there?”

“You don’t have the firepower!”

“I’ve got the mass.”

“Hit ‘em hard, boss.”

“You’re on your own.”

“They’ll be remembered.”

“Who’s next?!”

“I’m ready! How ‘bout you?!”

“We gotta get the hell out of here!”

“I have the gun.”

“Good luck to you.”

“Good guns.”

-Lone Wolf-

“Our enemy was ruthless. Efficient. But they weren’t nearly fast enough.”

“Our victory – your victory – was so close… I wish you could’ve lived to see it.”

“Your body, your armor – all burned and turned to glass. Everything, except your courage. That, you gave to us, and with it, we can rebuild.”

#Halo Reach #Halo #roleplay meme #roleplay prompt #rp meme #rp prompt

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Seven, “You Save Me”

*Not my gif*

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 9.1k words

Warnings: Mentions of hospital care and sensitive topics

Music Inspo: To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra (click to listen)

SNEAKYYYYY PEEK

That’s not even the worst of it, no, it’s not. The honey on his lips soaks mine with its sweetness, but it’s a feat in itself as I feel for the hundredth time the fear of never getting to kiss him again, or to hug him, or feel him against me, or to hear his voice. Like it so easily can, it shakes me to my core, and sends me jumping into his arms.

"There are far, far better things ahead than anything we leave behind."

- C. S. Lewis

“Yer sure this’ll work?”

“Yep.”

“Positive? Ya can’t be havin’ any doubts now,” I continue, raising my eyebrows at her.

“Yes, Harry. God, it’s just checkers, not a bloody court case,” she giggles, picking up a red piece and scooting it forward.

“I dunno, I don’t take competition lightly, bug.”

“We know,” she returns in a scoff, but then it falls into a frown when I jump over her piece, stealing one of her players.

“No fair,” she sighs, brow collapsing in annoyance as she sits back into the bed.

“Don’t be a sore loser now.”

“I’m not. Please, can we be done? I’m tired.”

“Jus’ sayin’ that ‘cuz yer losin’, are you?” I tease and she shakes her head, rubbing at her eyes. If that wasn’t her tell-tale sign for being sleepy, the way her eyes flutter closed when I stroke a hand through her hair definitely is.

“‘Kay, li’l one, we’ll carry on with our checkers game later. You get some rest, ya need it. Ya need yer strength fer P.T. ya have in an hour,” I tell her, turning around with the wooden board in my hands that I set on the sofa. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Okay,” she yawns, her voice followed by the electronic whirring of the hospital bed moving, or rather, the head of it relaxing. “You aren’t leaving me, are you?”

“What?” I question, turning around to find her eyes waiting for me. It confuses my heart how wildly she searches for me in a room, eyes almost always on me, no matter where I am - far or near. “Jus’ gonna go getta bite t’ eat and talk t’ Skye, hadda question fer her.”

“Oh,” Becks exhales, her cracked rose lips pushing out. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“‘m only goin’ downstairs fer a few, bug. Won’t be long . . promise. Here, ya want some lip balm? Yer lips look sumthin’ painful.”

“You’re looking at my lips instead of answering my question, Harry,” she pouts, putting on the entire show now with the pouting lips and squashed up face.

“Put that pout away, li’l miss,” I insist with a wag of my finger. “Jus’ noticed yer lips are chapped, ‘s all.”

“Sure, you did.”

“Go t’ sleep already. I thought you said yer tired?” I jest with a cock of my head, removing the cap to the lip balm before spreading it across her puckered lips. “There we go. Now, get some sleep.”

“But what if I have a nightmare and you’re not here . . again?”

A sigh runs away from me without my permission, “‘ll only be a mo’, Becks.”

“But, Harry-.”

“But, what? Stop worryin’, you’ll be fine, love. Kristi will be here if ya need anythin’ and I happen not t’ be,” I tell her quickly, but she doesn’t budge, and neither do those stubborn lips.

“I don’t want Kristi, I want you. Why can’t you stay?”

“‘Cuz I have sumthin’ important t’ do! How many times do I gotta say you’ll be fine, Becks?!” I exclaim, the firmness ringing in my voice. I watch painfully as the words hit her like a slap in the face, and the pout is nonexistent in a blink. A trail of huffed regrets paint my lips, and my hand habitually flies to my hair in frustration. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean t’ explode on ya there.”

“It’s fine, like you keep saying. Everything’s fine, I’m fine, you’re fine. My nightmares are fine,” she mutters, suddenly avoiding my gaze because apparently, her lap is all too interesting to look away from. “Just go . . do whatever you want. I’ll be fine, like you say.”

“Becks,” I sigh, regretfully.

“Go,” she responds softly, shaking her head. That’s the very thing I do when I watch the tear bead in the corner of her eye, and then slide down her cheek. Pleas of ‘no’s stab at my ears and her squirming only last seconds, before she melts like putty in my arms.

“‘m sorry. ‘ll jus’ text Skye and ask her, or see if she can come t’ me. Yer mo’ important, Becks.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she breathes against my neck, sniffles accentuating her pained words.

“‘m not, babe, I neva would. Yer always mo’ important, promise you that,” I coo, gently breaking up the snarls in her dark locks. “‘ll stay, I wanna.”

There isn’t a lie hiding in my words, or in my intentions, but it surprises me at moments how easily I’m used to being needed so much by her. It’s bittersweet, I reckon, realizing how much she needs me, all of the time. It’s flattering and makes my former self jealous in moments, but on the other hand, it saddens me immensely. I know it shouldn’t be that way, and I wish it wasn’t, but it is. If this is where she wants me, that’s all she has to say, and I’m there.

“Get some sleep, baby,” I murmur against her temple, pressing a kiss there while my hands leave imaginary stripes up and down the expanse of her back.

“I’m sorry that I need you all of the time,” she sobs, the tears warm and wet against the corner of my neck. Sighing, my bum finds the edge of the bed as I pull away from her, ever so painfully.

“Hey, ya don’t ever hafta apologize fer that, ya hear me?” I tell her, brushing my thumb along her chin, holding her face in my hands. “Me job right now, me life right now ‘s t’ take care o’ you. I wouldn’t want t’ be doin’ nuthin’ else, I wantcha t’ know that. ‘m not goin’ back t’ work ‘til yer all betta and can take care o’ yerself, doesn’t matta how long. ‘m not goin’ anywhere, eitha, Becks . . I need ya bloody bad too, I reckon, and that’s okay.”

“You’re kind of the best, you know that?” she just barely smiles, leaning into my hand and peering up at me with those eyes that are to die for.

I don’t even care how premature it is, I hope every single one of my bloody kids has her eyes, but oh, the ways that they melt me. They sure would get away with loads, seeing how much she gets away with just by using those eyes on me.

“Only kinda?” I tease and the truest giggle I’ve heard grace her lips in days sings to my ears.

“Maybe more than a little,” she winks. Her cheeks are wet and salty beneath my lips, bunching up with a smile as her song fills the air. Pulling away, she knuckles at her eyes while a yawn leaves her next.

“Get some rest now, Becks, ya need it.”

“I know.”

“I won’t go anywhere,” I promise her aloud, and her smile says all of the ‘thank you’s that I could ever need, I reckon. That thought fills with doubts when she presses the sweetest of pecks to my lips, her gratitude painting my insides.

“Yer welcome,” I whisper against her mouth, leaving my own kiss on the top of her head, smiling contently at the image of her sinking into her covers while sleep calls for her.

“I need a ‘yes,’ not a bloody ‘maybe.”

“Okay, I meant yes.”

“No, ya didn’t. Bloody hell, are ya confusin' or what? I needa straight answer here, and quick!”

“Yes, yes, yes. Is that enough for you?”

“Yes,” I return, grinning at the eye roll I receive from her.

“Dammit, Harry, like you’re any better,” she tuts with a disapproving shake of her head. Playing with the ends of her green crimped hair, a thought bounces around behind her eyes, and then they lift to me. “Yeah, it’ll work, if you’re quick about it. I dunno how long she’ll want to do it, you know. I hope you get lucky today.”

“Fook, me too, I hope. Already a day late.”

“Yeah, so get a move on it, bud,” Skye quips with a wink, both of our gazes pulled over to the curtains that part and the sight that we find. “All ready, Ree?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know how much I trust your driving, though,” Becks responds, toying with her plum colored knit blanket folded on her lap. Her tired eyes flit to me and widen in a question, one I’ve heard repeated five times already. “You’re sure you can’t come, Harry?”

“We’ll be fine, Ree, we’re just going to go for a little stroll around the hospital. Get you some fresh air and maybe buy something in the gift shop, it’ll be fun.”

That doesn’t calm the quakes that have rattled her ever since we brought up the idea of getting Becks out of bed to take a wheelchair ride around. Well, that was until I said that it wouldn’t be me pushing her around.

“Ya, sorry, bug. I gotta make some work calls at last, but it’ll be good fer you t’ get outta this room,” I pipe up, stepping forward and sinking to a squat in front of her. “You go pick sumthin’ nice out fer yerself.”

“Harry,” she sighs when I slide a bill into her hands. She tries to fight me and place it back in my hands. My head shakes at her and I fold her fingers over it and give it a squeeze.

“I mean it, buy ya sumthin’ that’ll make ya happy. I don’t wantcha t’ bring it back, and don’t you spend it on me now,” I insist with raised eyebrows, winking at her with a warm smile. Her fight response shrinks away before my eyes and I nod happily. “Atta girl, Becks. Listen t’ yer boss now,” I hum, booping her nose and watching her roll those magnificent eyes at me. A blessing, it is, indeed. My hand falls to cradle her cheek and pull her towards me so I can encapture her lips with my own.

“How in the hell are you used to this already? It makes me wanna be sick,” somebody grunts from behind me. Laughs tickle both of our lips and I pull away from hers prematurely.

“Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt you snogging me sister?”

“Robbie, would you shut up for once?” Becks groans, recognizing the voice for me, so I don’t have to embarrass myself any further by turning around.

“Whatever,” he exhales with a slap of his hand to his thigh.

“You drive safe now,” I tell her firmly, scooping her hair behind her ear. “Lookin’ gorgeous, y’know, and mo’ like yerself e’ry day.” the whisper nudges the corners of her lips higher on her cheeks. I swear I catch a whiff of summertime stuck to her skin when I leave one last kiss with her.

“Okay, okay. Get a room, you two. We gotta get this show on the road. C’mon, Robbie, you’re in charge of her IV pole,” Skye huffs, tapping her fingers on the steering handles of the wheelchair behind Becks.

“Alrighty then,” I giggle with a squeeze to Becks’ arm as they pull away. “See ya lot soon, have fun.”

“Oh, we will, won’t we, Ree?”

“I don’t feel too good about this,” Becks whines sarcastically from a few yards down the hallway. My heart doesn’t quake, though, and neither does her honey-likened voice that soon dissolves into a happy giggle. The only thing that could possibly be better than this, I think to myself, is getting to be the one to push her down the hall and to bring her home, here soon.

“Not soon enough,” I muse to myself, walking back into the room and picking up the packet of photos. The tears fall, unabated, as I flip through them and wish for those simpler times before shaking my head, knowing I’d never want to go back to before. No matter how shitty this after is, I’d never want to have to wade through that heap of shit again to get to her, although I know that I would. I’d do it all a hundred times over, and then a thousand, if it meant getting to be with Becks.

I hope more than anything I get to say that again one day, and hopefully with grandkids on my lap and gray in my hair, because sometimes I’m convinced I’m far too young to be hurting like this. I couldn’t care less if I’m too young to love this hard, though, and never would I wish that away. If two and some odd years gave me all of this, I can only dream of what tens and tens of years could bring me, and us.

Bloody hell, don’t get too ahead of yourself there, Harry, I chastise myself as I arrive at another picture, knowing fully well that this is one I’d show our kids, and our grandkids.

Too late, that train has already left that station. You’re about two years too late, but then again, so was I.

“Did you bring it?”

“Yep, I hid it in your room. I wrapped it too, don’t worry. It’s all ready, Ree.”

“Thanks,” I respond softly, wringing my hands underneath the blanket. His face lingers in my mind and so does his voice, and the feeling of his lips. My heart feels heavy with longing, and with a swallow I chastise myself for missing somebody I saw ten minutes ago.

“I think he’ll love it, it was really thoughtful of you,” Skye murmurs from behind me while Robbie hums a tune beside me, pushing my IV pole. “How are you feeling?”

“Can we go back yet?” I ask gently, twirling the braided silver around my finger until it stills. My fingers drift to the soft beads surrounding my wrist that I twiddle instead now.

“But you haven’t bought anything yet.”

“I don’t want to, I just want to go back. Please,” I sigh, my eyes falling away from the shelves of overpriced items that only grandmas would buy, it seems. “I just wanna see Harry,” I say to myself and only her, the knot in my throat stopping my swallow. Without me allowing it, my lips quiver and tears fill my eyes. A louder ‘please’ trickles into the air and I hastily wipe the tears away.

“Yeah, sure. Let me uh, just see if Harry is done . . You know, with his phone calls.”

Why do I feel like this?

Sure, I missed him all of the time before, and sometimes from across the room. Now, things are different, so different. I’m different, and so is our relationship, so you’d think that because of it I’d miss him less. As a matter of fact, I don’t miss him any less, I only miss him more. I blame that partially on the dull headache I always seem to have, and its underlying truth that everybody keeps blaming my overactive emotions on. Now, floors away from him and he��s all I can think about, and all that I want.

That isn’t very different from before, though.

“Okay, let’s go back,” Skye mumbles with finality to her voice. She thinks that I don’t hear it, like so many of them keep thinking I don’t hear or see things they forget to hide, but I hear the annoyance in her voice. It stings, and so do the tears, because they’re always too near nowadays.

My heart does a somersault in my chest and I feel like I can finally breathe again when we turn the corner, and there he is, standing outside of my room. This is all still so much that I’m not used to.

“Hey, back early, are we?” Harry rasps, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans. “E’rythin’ alright?” he asks, sinking down into a squat in front of me. My shoulders offer their slightest of shrugs in answer, but I know that he receives one when he catches the last bead of a tear on my cheek. “That’s okay yer back early. Alright, bug?” he hums against my forehead, pressing a long, warm kiss to my skin that melts from his returning touch.

“Yeah, just missed you.”

“Missed you too, li’l one. Yer okay, ‘m here,” Harry coos, his thumb rubbing stripes into my hair. “Thanks, you two. ‘ll uh, take it from here then. We’ll see ya later fer dinna, I reckon.”

We share our goodbyes and Skye whispers ‘it’s in the closet’ to me when we hug.

“How ya feelin’, bug? Anythin’ hurt?” Harry murmurs, sneaking a hand underneath my blanket to lace his fingers with mine.

“Head a little, but that’s nothing new.”

“Mmmm, reckon tha bright hospital lights didn’t help that. Ya should drink some mo’ water, and ya haven’t had lunch quite yet.”

“Yeah,” I exhale, almost automatically, pulling our joined hands out to lay on top of the covers.

“Ya look tired. Maybe ya should lie down fer a snooze.”

“No, I’m okay,” I respond, tracing the curves and lines of his silver, rose ring. My actions wander to his two other rings on this hand, my favorite past time as of late.

“‘Kay, let’s go back t’ yer room, tho’. There was sumthin’ I wanted t’ show ya.”

“Okay,” I say, lifting my head and that’s where I find his glowing eyes. They imbue me with everything I could ever want and need to feel.

“Promise ya won’t cry?” Harry requests while getting to his feet, and then disappearing behind to me.

“What? I don’t understand, Harry . . .”

“Ya will inna sec, bug. Jus’ you wait,” he quips, and the wheels start to roll. I wish the cogs in my head had begun their journey too, trying to guess at what he’s getting at, but only do they turn once he flips on the light when we’re back in the room.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Becks. Well, give or take a day or two. ‘m sorry ‘bout that, but ya had gotten sick and so I had t’ postpone a li’l. I hope ya like it, I know there’s not many, but . . ,” Harry introduces, his words escaping him. I’ve taken them all, I think, the sight in front of me blurring instantly until I blink and the tears are wetting my cheeks. “Now, we have loads o’ time t’ make mo’ . . mo’ memories.”

“Harry, I-I . . “

Memories I can’t even place hang from the ceiling of my hospital room, strung on purple twine are pictures of Harry and I from the last few years. With his help, he pushes me around the room so I can grab hold of them and admire them.

They’re all candids. One or two from meetings at the firm from my time as his assistant. One from the Halloween party of our costumes as Beetlejuice and Morticia Addams. A bittersweet one from my going away party from before. A happier one from Harry’s recent birthday party. One of the long nights at the hospital spent with him last winter even makes an appearance. Then there’s a giggly surprised selfie he took from a night at my house playing Scrabble from before. My lips quiver at the adorable selfie from our first date, and how naive we seemed, if only days ago. I laugh at our first kissing selfie from that Sunday on his sofa, right before everything changed. A mentor-mentee picture of the two of us Rose took from my first day back may be my favourite. That is soon trumped with an excited selfie in his office from that first day at work as a couple, but I find it heartbreaking to look at.

There are some that I can’t place right away in my mind and others flood my senses with the laughs and conversations we shared in those photos.

I didn’t think it was possible, but some way and somehow, I love him even more than I did just a second ago.

“Harry, how did you . . “

“Thought ya promised ya wouldn’t cry,” he mumbles, and only then do I notice that he’s crouched beside me with his eyes waiting on me. It takes me a second to place the tears welling in his eyes, and the bittersweet dimpled smile accompanying them. “I talked t’ e’rybody, and had them send any pictures they had o’ us. Rose, Asher, Myles . . Skye was tha biggest help o’ all, gettin’ into yer Cloud t’ get some o’ these. Yer phone was lost in tha accident, sadly, but luckily you were a smart cookie, and had e’rythin’ backed up. ‘s why I couldn’t go with you on yer ride ‘round jus’ now, I wanted t’ hang these up fer you, bug . . Now, I neva said I wouldn’t cry,” he laughs sadly, and the previous smile falls into his shaking lips. “‘m so glad we have all o’ these . . ‘m so fookin’ grateful I have you, Becks, all o’ these years, and so many mo’ t’ come, babe.”

“Oh, Harry,” I sigh blearily, falling into his arms that surround me. I’ve always known that it was natural, but I’ve never had something feel so right, not until him. “You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

“Nah, babe, you are. My sweetest Becks,” he hums, pressing a line of kisses along my cheek until he reaches my lips. At last, I get to taste the molasses that his words were always coated in, without fail. My happy giggles buzz against his mouth until he pulls away with his eyebrows askew. “‘m tryna kiss you, yer makin’ it all difficult.”

“That’s what I’m good at,” I murmur softly, my lips collapsing from the ironic weight of my words.

“That’s okay, wouldn’t wantcha any otha way, baby,” Harry says, tapping my nose with his finger. If that doesn’t spur the next onslaught of tears, the honey that swims in his eyes does, and it’s all for me. Every last drop. “Good things are difficult sometimes.”

“Who are you quoting, yourself?” I titter and his cheeks redden before me.

“Hush, you,” he tuts, and that he does with his lips against mine. There’s a new fervor to his kisses as of late, but at the same time, a further gentleness to them ever since . . it happened. It’s contradictory, it is, but I’m just glad he’s not afraid to touch me anymore. Deep down, I know that he has enough fear bottled up inside of him for the two of us though, and as if I didn’t as well.

His lips are sweet and slow against mine, and so are his fingers that trek through my hair, careful of the stitches and staples that he’s memorized the locations of. They mold against mine beautifully, locking together ever so effortlessly, and that is until thoughts ravage my brain and make them tremble. Flashes of bright lights, screeching tires, and clangs of metal against metal ricochet inside of my head. That’s not even the worst of it, no, it’s not. The honey on his lips soaks mine with its sweetness, but it’s a feat in itself as I feel for the hundredth time the fear of never getting to kiss him again, or to hug him, or feel him against me, or to hear his voice. Like it so easily can, it shakes me to my core, and sends me jumping into his arms.

“Ya, reckon we need a breather,” he jokes against my hair where his lips lie, peppering more kisses onto me. Tears spill down my cheeks silently as I stare at the windows frosted from the February cold, and obscured by the beginning blizzard.

We talked about our dreams of having babies together earlier today, and I cherished it immensely, but it only makes me hurt more. Harder. It frightens me to think I almost had that possibility ripped out of my hands, and what if it could happen again? He could get into an accident himself, especially in weather like this, or if something were to happen to him. Anything. A heart attack, an aneurysm, an allergic-

“What’s that li’l head thinkin’ so hard ‘bout?” Harry whispers, holding me against him. They keep coming, and it’s only a matter of time until he feels them still coming, hitting the bare skin of his neck.

I want it.

It’s early, but I know that I do, and perhaps even more now. I knew that I did before, or I thought that I did. I wondered, but never this much. I hadn’t wanted it this much, or dreamt about it so often. I almost feel mad for how densely it occupies my thoughts, but it made me sigh with relief when he told me that he dreamt of it too.

Babies.

His babies.

Our babies, one day.

“Becks?” he says, barging into my run alone thoughts. He really does it when he leaves my arms and I find those glassy green eyes once more. “You okay, bug?” he inquires, his large thumb swiping away the wetness painting my cheeks.

“I love you . . . Harry,” I sigh, feeling yet another tear fall. He catches this one too, and I brush my knuckle against his cheek just in time to rescue one that leaks from his eye.

“Love ya too, Becks, so much,” he wheezes with a contagious cheeriness to his raspy voice that tickles my cheek. I couldn’t count the number of kisses he presses to both of my cheeks, with a throbbing headache or not. He pulls a laugh from my lips so easily, like all of the other times, and then there he is, stunning me with that look on his face like I painted the stars in the sky.

“I really do, though - love you,” I continue, the passion sewn into every tear that wavers in my voice.

The dimples cave deeper into his cheeks covered with chestnut brown stubble, only making this sight before me all the better. A happy sound escapes his lips and if I look hard enough, it sings there in his eyes that have all of my attention.

“I know, Becks. And I, you, my baby.”

“God, you know how to make a girl melt, Styles,” I exhale, the fire burning hot in my cheeks, but it’s put out soon enough when the thoughts interrupt again.

The brash feeling of his beginning beard against my palm grounds me while I go through the motions, yet again. I was that close to never seeing him again, and leaving him forever. I don’t think that I could ever tell him, but it weighs me down with guilt that I almost left him, because each tear and confession of his breaks my heart all a little more.

I really have no idea what I’d do without him here, taking care of me, every second of every day. Tears spew, hot and heavy down my skin, as I think just a second too long about the burning hell that it would be if this had happened just a month earlier, or even this last summer.

I’ve lost count of how many times my family has said that it should’ve been worse, and that I should’ve had more broken bones, or something that Harry refuses to say - that I should have died with the extent of the wreck.

If I had still been lucky and this had happened at another time, what then? Would I have come back? Why would I have, though? Every time I open my eyes in that bed, I know that he’ll be there, right at my side, and the thought of that not being a given if this had happened at another time . . It sickens me.

If it had happened when he was with her . . would he have come? Would he have come and seen me during the worst year of my life, last summer or last winter? Would she have let him, that ex-girlfriend of his? What would have been my reason to live, if not for him? Would I-

“Becks?” Harry says, clearing his throat. “What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, babe?”

“Nothing,” I confess with hot cheeks, wiping a hand across them and looking to my lap.

“‘Kay, I won’t press,” he relents, stroking a hand through my hair. My eyes almost go into the back of my head at that, and I nearly giggle. “Looks like somebody ‘s tired aftall.”

Tired of all of these thoughts ravaging my brain, and keeping me awake at night, and from enjoying the moment with you, yes.

“No, I’m okay,” I lie, putting on a smile that even I know he’ll recognize as fake.

“Yer tired, I can tell. Ya need t’ rest up befo’ P.T. again later, we can do our gifts anotha time.”

“Harry, no,” I insist with a shake of my head, but I underestimate my strength. Squinting, my hand flies to my forehead that I clutch where it hurts with repetitive pangs. “I don’t wanna sleep.”

“How come, bug? Ya need it, it’ll help yer headache. Ya haven’t taken a nap this mornin’ yet, that’s not good.”

What would you say if I told you . . the truth?

How would you react if I said that I’m afraid to sleep, even with you there at my side, or in the same sheets that cover me? Even with the drugs they give me for sleep, I’m scared to enter my dreams, because all they’ve been lately are nightmares. They’re not even obvious at times, or anything like what they used to be . . before. Sometimes they’re about the accident, revolving around the bits of memories I’m getting back every day. No, they’re more than that, and worse. They’re watching you get married from afar, and not from across you, but from the clouds in the sky. Last night’s was looking down from the sky at you stare a hole into the wall of the chapel with my coffin a few rows away. I couldn’t get myself to wake you up when I shot up in the bed, gasping for air.

During the nap I took yesterday before dinner, it began all sunshine and daisies with me holding a dark haired, green-eyed baby with a dimply smile that cooed at you and giggled. Like they always do, it turned sour at the end, and it was me, inside of the dream, waking up from that being a dream too.

What would you say when I tell you that my dreams consist of nightmares about you, and what I fear I’ll lose with you, again? A chance at happiness, a future of wedding bells and babies, and so much more. I couldn’t live with myself watching the sadness devastate you when I tell you that one of the worst nightmares of all is dreaming about that day at work before it all happened, kissing behind closed doors, and muttering sweet nothings between each other. It wouldn’t seem like a nightmare, no, but it is when I wake up stuck in that hospital bed with a slew of things wrong with me, and you, deprived of sleep, snoozing on a bloody sofa. No matter how badly I’d like to, I know that I wouldn’t tell you, I couldn’t.

Worst of all, I don’t think I could ever tell you about the dream where the accident happened and you didn’t come, never at all.

What would you say then?

I’m not sure how many times he’s said my name by the time I hear it and respond, leaving my thoughts, only barely. I’m certain of the wave of worry that glazes over his eyes at my absence, and how it only adds up to me acting odd, and me being different.

“I’m okay, Harry,” I tell him, filling my lungs with air, but even that hurts too. I can’t decide if I want him to believe the lie or not, because one way would mean having to tell him about the bad dreams.

“Ya don’t seem like it, Becks.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, unable to look into his eyes any longer and not feel overwhelming bittersweetness.

“Ya have nuthin’ t’ be sorry fer, love,” he huffs with a shake of his head, and I’m convinced I could never say anything that’s right. “Here, wantcha t’ open one o’ me presents fer you.”

His chest rises and falls in a pattern, and I count the seconds until it lifts again, under my hand. His own lays limp cradling my head amidst his wheezing that fills the air. If I squint just hard enough, I can make out the pile of last minute gifts toppled on the bedside table. My insides warm at the thought of them, and the excitement that claimed his face when he opened the brown leather messenger bag I got for him weeks ago. It lived up to the surprise that etched onto my insides at the sight of the gifts he got me. I almost beat him in the first round of FRIENDS trivia from the game deck he got me, and he let me win our first game ever of Bananagrams. My happiness also awaits in the red and brown checkered Vans box holding my brand spanking new pair of purple Old Skool shoes. I could just cry at the memory of opening them all, and how my heart swelled into another size in that moment.

Lifting my eyes, his thick eyelashes flutter against his peachy skin. I habitually twirl the frayed string of his baby pink hoodie around my pointer finger, hearing his voice from just a few minutes ago repeat in my head.

“‘ll only lie down with you if you nap as well, Becks.”

I’m sorry, Harry . . , I think quietly with regret, my finger dragging along the outline of the peonies trapped in the vinyl square on his jumper. Van Gogh’s brushstrokes litter the image, and occupy my fingers as I trace the petals, the air around me growing silent.

But he succumbed to his exhaustion within moments, too soon to make sure that I followed through with my word. It stabs at my heart every time I see the bags under his eyes, think about how Skye said how much of a wreck he was when she told him, and fills me with so much guilt every time I ask him not to leave me, it overflows.

“I love you . . more than I’ve ever loved somebody, or something,” I confess into the unlistening air, surprised at the volume of my voice. “Sometimes I’m sorry for how much, and for how you love me, knowing how it hurts you to be here. I can’t even think about how scared you were, and how that is probably worse than how I feel, all of the time. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I say softly, into the cotton of his hoodie, rubbing at my eyes that betray me with their misgivings. “I wish I could wake up and this nightmare could all be over, but I’m not even brave enough to fall asleep, because of the nightmares I have about you.”

“Wish I could too,” came a voice. Stilling, my eyes widen and then drift above me and find the sweetest sight of all. “Hi, bug . . I wasn’t s’posed t’ hear that, was I?”

My head shakes vehemently from side to side, disobeying the instruction I give it to stop before my head begins to hurt, only adding to the pain I feel at tearing my eyes away from him.

“‘m sorry, Becks, I neva fell asleep. Almost, tho’ . . . Yer not okay, are you, bug?” he murmurs softly, the sleepy raspiness clinging to his voice in places, regardless of how much I want to ignore it. All of it. “Rebecca Ann Holte,” he coos, cuddling closer to me and peppering kisses along my neck.

“I talk to you often when you’re asleep, but this time you heard.”

“‘m sorry again, babe, didn’t mean t’. Tellin’ me deep, dark secrets, are you now?”

“I dunno. Is that bad if I do?”

“No, ‘ve spoken t’ you befo’ when yer sleepin’. ‘s freein’ and less nervewrackin’, I reckon . . Ya want t’ talk ‘bout it?” he inquires gently, magic leaving the tips of his fingers that coast along my spine through my oversized t shirt. “‘Bout these nightmares? I have a feelin’ yer not tellin’ me e’rythin’ ‘bout them, and why yer not sleepin’ like ya should be.” the edge to his voice is blurred and smooth, unlike the firmness its held today when he tells me that I need to sleep.

No, this time, it’s like a gentle hand held out towards me, or a shoulder waiting there for me to tip my heavy head onto.

“They’re always there . . waiting for me. They’re not even about the accident anymore- well, not really, anyways,” I divulge slowly, words shaking with every breath I take. Guilt eats at my insides because of the fact that I can’t meet his eyes, but it’s lulled away with his hand rubbing circles into my back. “They’re about like, what if I . . didn’t make it.”

“I have those too, sumtimes, I know how awful they are, or jus’ even thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Harry croaks, and his revelation leads me to nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, my favorite place forever and ever. “Dunno what ‘d do without ya, bug, I mean it. Me life’s nuthin’ without you.”

“Don’t make me cry, again,” I blubber against his warm skin, noseing against his collarbone.

“‘m sorry,” he titters sadly with a sniffle peeking out from his apology. “‘m sorry I can’t take ‘em away eitha, Becks, wish so badly I could. I wish mo’ than anythin’ that I could make all o’ this go away, and have it be like befo.’”

“Me too, Harry, I really do.”

“But I know that I can’t, and it doesn’t hurt less t’ realize, ‘s jus’ how it ‘s. But I know that it‘ll be in tha past soon enough, and listen t’ this, sounds like ya getta go home t’moro’ or Sunday. Best news ‘ve heard, well, since they told me you were okay,” he reveals, the happiness climbing his sentence swiftly. “I get t’ take you home, li’l one.”

“And will you stay then too? You don’t have to, it’s just that-,” I begin to ask, but he doesn’t let me get very far in telling him why.

“‘Course I have to, and I will, mo’ importantly. No place else ‘d ratha be, Becks. I can’t wait t’ bring ya home with me.”

“I think you’re my home, though, Harry,” I say, each syllable tickling his lips further up his cheeks after he turned my head to face his.

“Think yer mine too, Rebecca Holte . . my home.”

It seemed insurmountable, impossible even. I didn’t even want to try, and the pain pulsating in my ankle reminded of that ever so plainly. That all changed, ever so simply, when my eyes found him waiting there for me with the largest smile shown on his face. It’s kept amazing me, day after day, how somebody could have such happiness sewn into their features, and that it was all for me, and because of me.

“C’mon, Becks, show ‘em what ya can do,” Harry murmured eagerly, raising his eyebrows in my direction. “I know ya can do it, bug.”

If he believes in me, then maybe I could believe in myself too, I thought strangely as the throbbing continues. With a lift and then a plant, my ankle sings with stabs of icy pain, but I keep going. I breathe through each stab, each sting, and every debilitating wave of acrid pain until at last, I fall into his arms.

“That’s my baby! Bloody hell, am I proud o’ you. Ya walked all tha way ova t’ me, and without any help! That’s me girl,” he chuckles happily, moving the hair out of my eyes. “Amazin’ me e’ry day, you are, Becks.”

“I did it for you, all of it,” I smile through the tears, looking up at him and basking in the sunshine that is his smile. Finally, that sunshiney smile found its way back to me through those lips. I can almost taste the tang of it when I press my lips to his briefly.

“‘m so proud o’ you, every second,” he keeps mumbling repeatedly from above where I stand wrapped up in his arms, my tippy toes touching the cold hospital floor.

“I’m here because of you . . I mean it.”

“Reckon e’rybody was amazed at tha show ya put on in there, Becks,” Harry giggles beside me. “Dunno why I still need t’ feed you if ya can walk across a bloody room on yer own.”

“Because you like to feed me,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, laughing when the forkful of saucy spaghetti touches my lips.

“Yer a baby,” he wheezes, feeding the last few noodles to me.

“Hey!” I protest, taking the fork from him and stabbing at the last meatball.

“Hey, you! Dontcha take tha last meatball, I was savin’ that.”

“That’s what you get for calling me a baby,” I whimper, not moving to bring it to my lips, and dragging it through the marinara sauce.

“Didn’t mean it that way, bug, y’know that,” he rasps, nosing at my cheek affectionately. “C’mon, it was me spaghetti anyways. This ‘s tellin’ fer tha future, innit? Yer gonna be eatin’ off me plate always, aren’t you, ya brat?”

“Sure, you didn’t. You really know how to suck up to me, that’s for sure,” I joke.

“And it works, doesn’t it?”

“Harry!” I exclaim, moving away and finding his laughing eyes. His head tips against mine sweetly, and I lean into him, brushing my toes against his under the covers. “Ugh, your feet always feel like icicles!”

“Good thing I got me li’l heater t’ keep me warm then,” he coos, his lips feathery against my temple.

“Since you’re sweet, sometimes, or just a good suck up, here,” I sigh, holding out the fork in front of his mouth. His grin grows and he leans forward as I feed him the last meatball.

“Thanks, bug,” he mumbles through a mouth full of food.

“Welcome. Ugh, I’m full.”

“Good, ‘s ‘bout time. Yer eatin’ mo’ e’ry day . . yer doin’ so well, Becks,” Harry hums, the clattering of silverware and plates filling the air around us. “Ya must be tired from t’day, a full belly will help ya sleep too.”

“Mmmhmm,” I nod into his shoulder, sliding down the bed until my head finds the safety of his chest again, nuzzling into that very spot where it always feels right.

“So proud o’ you and how far ya’ve come, Becks.”

“Thanks, Harry. I couldn’t have done it all without you,” I yawn, eyelids fluttering when his fingers find my hair.

“Ya keep sayin’ that, y’know. Ya said it earlier durin’ P.T. D’ya rememba?”

“No, what’d I say?” I ask, wrapping the blush hoodie string around my finger, seeing how many times it curls around until its end.

“Ya said sumthin’ ‘bout bein’ here cuzza me, and doin’ it all fer me . . Babe, what’d ya mean by that?”

“Oh,” I exhale, eyes snapping open quickly in surprise. “You heard that.”

“Ya, was I not s’posed t’ or sumthin’?” he giggles, but I don’t echo it, and it disappears like it was never there in the first place. “Becks, did I say sumthin’ wrong, love?”

“No, you’re okay.”

“Then what’s tha matta, hmm?”

“It is all because of you, and for you,” I begin to say, unsure of where I’m going with this, or more so, how to get where I need to go.

“What ‘s, Becks? I don’t undastand.”

“I’m trying so hard to get better for you, and because I have you there . . here. I couldn’t do any of this without you, Harry . . I don’t think I’d even be here if it weren’t for you,” I confess, my words soon growing wet from where they leave my lips.

“Hey, don’t say that,” Harry sighs, emotion caught up in his voice, but I know it’s only the beginning.

Hold on, Harry, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

“But it’s true. I keep thinking that if my accident had happened even a month ago, or this last summer, I don’t think I would’ve made it.”

“Becks, don’t. Please, I don’t wanna-.”

“I’m telling you the truth, Harry,” I interrupt, lifting my head at last and finding his eyes murky with unspilled feelings. “I had nothing to live for only a month ago, maybe becoming a lawyer, but that was it. I know that I’m alive because of you, and because I had something to live for. You.”

“Becks,” he says, shaking his head in denial while his cheeks glisten with tears. “I don’t wantcha talkin’ like that.”

“I’m right, I wish you could understand, but I am. I’m not lying, I wish I was,” I whimper, pausing to sniffle and catch my breath. “That day w-was one of the best and worst of my life, even if I can only remember half of it. But that’s okay, because it’s the good half, with you. I had probably the worst year of my life just before all of that, before I found you again.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice catching on his thick sobs.

“I’m sorry,” I confess with difficulty, tearing my eyes away. My hand wanders to his that I pick up and relish in the grounding feeling of its weight in mine, and his other that cradles my cheek. “It was, what with my dad’s cancer. It brought you back to me, and then just when I thought things were turning around, I had you stolen away from me, again. I don’t know what happened, we just stopped talking, and then . . “

The splashes of ink scattering his skin blur before my eyes, but I continue to trace the black cross and the bottom of the anchor I find underneath his jumper.

“‘m so sorry, Becks. Yer phone would ring and ring when I called, and ya didn’t get back t’ me texts . . but ‘s no excuse, I shoulda jus’ stopped by yer flat and-.”

“It’s okay, Harry, I had no excuses either. I should’ve taken Skye’s advice and dropped by the firm and said hi, had a spontaneous lunch date like we kept putting off then,” I explain, matching his words and yet, I know that in the coming moments he can’t match the pain the past brings back to me. “And you dated somebody else, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t tear me apart, even though I get to have you now.”

“Becks,” Harry croaks, sliding his hand out from under mine and pulling me against his front. “‘m so sorry, I didn’t mean t’ hurt you then. I really didn’t.”

“I know . . but it felt like it then,” I say, muffled by his shoulder that absorbs my tears.

“‘m so sorry, Becks, I am. I always wondered if you knew.”

“I followed you on Instagram where you posted pictures of her, Harry, of course, I knew,” I laugh ironically into his jumper, finding fistfuls of it behind him. A profuse string of ‘sorrys’ and pleas fill my ears, and it only weighs my heart down heavier, filling it with guilt. Filling me with guilt.

“This isn’t what I meant to do, or say. I didn’t want to make you feel bad because it’s all in the past and done with. I only wanted you to know how much I love you and that you mean the world to me- more than that, the universe, even. God, you still have to teach me how to be good at this talking thing.”

There, I make him laugh, and it burns away the emptiness that had begun to burrow itself into my heart. Without deciding to, I begin to as well, even through the terrible aching in my sides and the pulsating behind my forehead.

“I didn’t love her, y’know. She was neva you, she could neva be you fer me, n’body could, Becks. I dunno why I dated her, now that I think o’ it. I missed you so badly and wanted t’ be with you, but we kept playin’ phonetag, and sumthin’ jus’ happened with her. But it didn’t even last three months, and it was like we were jus’ friends, good friends through it all. She felt tha same way too, she said. ‘s not funny, but it ‘s . . When we broke up, she had asked if there was sumbody else, and without me answerin’, she said that she knew there was. ‘d neva really mentioned you t’ her, it didn’t seem right t’, but she knew ‘bout you somehow. She knew that I loved you, and not her,” he trails off, and I wonder if his sentences are eating away holes in his chest, like they are in mine.

“I still feel like a right git fer all o’ that, and how I jus’ tried t’ distract meself from what I really wanted - you. I couldn’t have you so I wasted time with her, ya could say. ‘m an asshole fer it, I know I am, not jus’ fer what I did t’ her, but what I did t’ you, as well. ‘m so sorry, Becks, it wasn’t s’posed t’ be that way. It was always s’posed t’ be you, jus’ you. ‘s been you, jus’ you, fer so long, babe. Even durin’ Amber, and ‘m sorry t’ bring her up as well, but it was you then too. Don’t think there’ll be a time when it isn’t you,” his forgotten past opens up to me through a string of words, no matter how much they sting, they’re there and they sing for me through his struggled sobs. The words leave holes inside of me, but the sound of his voice cracking with every other word fills them heavy with misery.

“I don’t- I couldn’t- You saved me too, y’know, so many bloody times, Becks, and jus’ this week. I couldn’t- wouldn’t have made it if ya died. I don’t wanna think ‘bout it again, but I know it. I thought ‘bout it in that waitin’ room, what ‘d do if ya had died, I-.”

It’s sour and then it’s sweet, the taste of his lips coated with tears. Melancholy sticks to them, along with nostalgia, and longing. I wonder what he tastes on mine, and if he hears all of the words on mine that I shush his own with.

“Don’t, Harry. Please, don’t,” I whine, my nose bumping against his in the half darkened room, but the lights of the monitors and tv screen catch the glint of tears that drown his sage green eyes. “I can’t think about you dying, even though I know that you had to think about it happening to me, and I’m so sorry for that. I will be for the rest of my life,” I sob, the words uncontrollable and swallowed by my tears, and then by his arms that guide me back to him, and the swell of his chest that I long for.

“‘s all in tha past, bug, let’s leave it all there. Shall we?” he cries, eliciting automatic nods into him. “We have so much t’ look forward t’ in tha future, and memories t’ make.”

“Yeah, maybe even babies together one day,” I say, the risky words hot on my tongue that sends them to him with a small laugh.

“Ya, we’ll hafta see ‘bout makin’ those one day too . . ,” he wheezes, and I almost roll my eyes at his cliche joke. “Ya should know, I want like five kids one day.”

“Oh, God, maybe I take that back now.”

“No, ya can’t take back sayin’ ya want babies with me!” he scoffs, and we both collapse into laughter. It feels good, although edged with bittersweetness that clings to every moment and word.

“How about four?”

“Nah, five.”

“Five Styles babies?” I murmur softly, thinking of him waving hellos and goodbyes into my back, like now, years down the road with a baby in my belly, or in my arms.

“Five, maybe a set o’ twins, knowin’ you. Who knows.”

“You’re going to jinx it now.”

“Good, I hope so. I reckon twins would be fun, I know a good one,” he titters from above, and I wish he could see the way that I roll my eyes at him in the least furious of ways. Silence blankets the room, besides the hum of the telly playing a FRIENDS episode.

“How would we tell ‘em ‘bout all o’ this? Don’t think I could bring meself t’ do it,” he asks gingerly, interrupting the rise and fall of the melodic air. I swallow, greeting the lump once again, and it only grows bigger at the sound of the struggle in his voice.

“I dunno, it’s just another one of the times you saved me.”

“And that you saved me as well, bug, don’t ferget that,” Harry coos, and I nod, letting my wet eyes flutter closed. “I can’t even count how many times you’ve saved me ova tha years, Becks. I can only imagine how many mo’ will come, and how good o’ a mum you’d make.”

I let sleep start to take me away, knowing fully well that I’ll soon greet the nightmares, and that he’ll be there to wake me up from them and to sing to me until I stop crying.

“Hey, don’t you fall asleep jus’ yet, li’l one.”

“Mmmm,” I moan into his chest, rubbing at my exhausted eyes. “What? I was falling asleep.”

“‘m sorry, my love, but I have one last Valentine’s gift fer you,” Harry wheezes happily. Silently, something tells me that this is important, something worthy of eye contact.

“What now, Styles? You already hit it out of the park with the games and shoes,” I say, but my laugh falls silent against his dimpled smile. I think that his thumb strokes the faint divot in one of my cheeks, my dimple nothing compared to his famous set. His voice is absent from his lips but the honey and sunshine that pool in his eyes tell me more than words could ever say.

“Was wonderin’ if ya’d be me girlfriend, Becks. Y’know, officially,” Harry titters. Now, his tears taste sweet and reminiscent of honey once my lips find his again, speaking confirmations against his mouth. “I reckon ‘girlfriend and boyfriend’ need t’ come befo’ babies and all o’ that one day,” he whispers, the sweetest of words wafting across my face.

“Of course, but only if you’ll be my boyfriend. What d’ya say?”

“‘ve only been dreamin’ o’ tha day I get t’ call meself yer boyfriend fer years and years, Rebecca Holte,” he confesses, memories and unspoken words held in his kisses that he covers my face with. My favorite sound in the entire universe tickles my ears as it flows from his lips and across my face.

I smile in my sleep, knowing that Harry will always be there to save me, and that maybe one day, I’ll be able to show him just how much I do love him. For now, I hope for dreams filled with green-eyed babies held in his arms, and the tangible dream of getting to go home with him soon to start our next chapter.

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quitetommy · 6 years

Text

Broken Angel

this is for @whyistomholland‘s writing contest!! i used the song something’s gotta give with harrison! this was originally supposed to be an OCxharrison but i decided against doing that,, i hope you all enjoy!!

Loving you, I thought I couldn’t get no higher. Your November rain could set night on fire, night on fire.

The best boy. The blue-eyed blond boy. The pretty boy. The boy who’s eyes once held so much love for the young girl. He was perfect, everything any lucky girl could ask for. She was sure that he was the one. She was so sure. How can you be so sure of something, it feel so right, and then have it all blow up in your face?

Harrison Osterfield was the definition of the perfect guy. He was so amazing. Everyday after work, he’d ask her how her day was and listen to her stories. And not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He loved her, it was obvious that he genuinely cared about his girl. He supported her hopes and dreams, no matter how ridiculous they were. He stuck around, he was always there for Y/N. He was always there, until he wasn’t.

You see, love doesn’t always come out on top. No, sometimes it can be the thing that breaks us, instead of saving us.

But we could only burn so long. Counterfeit emotions only run skin deep. Know you're lying when you're lying next to me, next to me.

The boy that was once her everything was no longer that guy for her. He had turned into a man that Y/N didn’t recognize. He had changed. He opted to spend the night out at bars rather than with his girl, he never wanted to show her off anymore. He’d freak out if a picture was posted of them somewhere. It was like he was embarrassed of her.

But that couldn’t be it, right? Y/N was the best girlfriend a guy could ask for, right? He was just stressed, tired. Right? Y/N just couldn’t understand how the sweet boy she once knew had disappeared so quickly. He was there one second and gone the next.

How did we get so far gone? I should know by now, you should know by now. We should know by now.

She hardly ever saw the tall blond man. He was always gone, she sat at their shared flat, alone and sad. She couldn’t ever understand how they got so far gone. How had their relationship taken such a turn. In the midst of it all, the only thing that Y/N could ever think was how he used to be such a sweet boy.

Y/N could clearly remember the day it had taken a turn for the worst. It was maybe two or three months ago. It was late, she had been up waiting for the missing boy to walk through the door, just like now. It was well past midnight, the last time the tired girl had looked at the clock it had read Three AM. Y/N wasn’t going to let herself fall asleep though, no, she was going to wait up for the boy. It wasn’t too much longer when the door handle started to jiggle and the door swung open.

In came an off balance, intoxicated boy. His clothes were messed up and wrinkled. His white shirt had noticeably been unbuttoned and then re-buttoned. It was obvious, because whomever tried to do it, mismatched the buttons. His curly hair was obviously broken apart. The curls were no longer married to each other. Y/N could only guess that someone had been running their fingers through her man’s hair.

Once the drunk boy was fully in the poorly lit home, the door shut behind him, Y/N was able to get a better look at him without him seeing her. He had his phone pulled out now, typing to someone, still not seeing his main girl. It was when he took a few gross looking stumbles forward into the light that was coming from the kitchen, that she noticed.

It was right there on his collar, plain as day. The lipstick stain. The poor girl’s heart fell into her stomach as she noticed the next horrible thing; the newly forming hickey.

That was when she had it. Y/N wasn’t going to freak out, she just wanted answers, so she stood up. The shuffling caught Harrison’s attention, causing him to lock his phone quickly and stuff it into his pocket.

“Hi, Haz,” she breathed, heartbroken. The drunk boy smiled sloppily, his body slumping over comfortably. His eyes closed as they settled on his girl, “H-Hi. What are you doing up this-”

Y/N sighed and cut him off, pointing at the sad evidence on his neck. His eyes widened as his whole demeanor changed. His body grew stiff as he stood up straight and put his hand over the love bite. He rubbed it as she asked in a small voice, “What’s that?”

Harrison almost felt guilty. Almost. Her voice only got small like that when she was scared. He knew what he was doing was wrong but he just couldn’t help it. He was having too much fun and if it costed her happiness, then so be it.

He shrugged, sobering up a bit and laughed, “What do ya mean? You don’t remember? Love, you were great.”

It was a lie. As they stood in the poorly lit room, staring at each other, they knew. Harrison was a lying, cheating bastard. Y/N was the angel that had fallen and hit everything in her path, damaging her pureness. The was nothing more to give, she was broken.

Harrison looked away from the girl in front of him, he knew if he kept looking he’d feel it. The guilt. Her big, beautiful, pure eyes were just too much for him, so he pushed passed her and headed to their shared room. It was when his hand met the door handle that he heard it, the cry breaking past her lips. He didn’t stop, he left her and all the things that should’ve been said to save the fallen angel.

Something's gotta give, something's gotta break. But all I do is give and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, but I know that it won't. No reason to stay, is a good reason to go. Is a good reason to go.

That was months ago and ever since, she has been broken and everyone’s noticed. She was trying to hard to keep him. The angel was going to give up her last breath to the bastard. She loved him more than she loved herself and that was dangerous. Y/N was fighting a battle with herself and it was obvious that she was losing.

Y/N wasn’t going to leave him. No, she loved him too much to do that. Just because he didn’t want her anymore didn’t mean she didn’t want him. She wasn’t going to stop trying to gain his love again until her love for him died out. She wasn’t sure it ever would, and that was the problem.

She was too good for him and he knew it. The morning after Y/N confronted him, though he was beyond hungover, he remembered the night before. He still wasn’t guilty, and he wouldn’t ever be.

He knew how much she loved him, he knew how to take advantage. And he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to use that to his advantage. If there was anything the broken angel could do for him he asked her to get it done. There were so many things.

“Hey, babe, could you make me some dinner?”

“Y/N, pick up my friends on your way home from work.”

“Y/N, i don’t feel like doing anything today, can you get this list done for me?”

It was all bullshit that could totally be done by the man himself, but Y/N just couldn’t every say no to him. It was the way it was. He knew just how to work her and keep her under his spell. It was exhausting for the young girl, but she couldn’t seem to leave him. She loved him, and this is what love looks like, right? Right?

I have never heard a silence quite so loud. I walk in the room and you don't make a sound, make a sound. You're good at making me feel small. If it doesn't hurt me, why do I still cry? If it didn't kill me, then I'm half alive.

Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew he was taking advantage of her. It was just she didn’t know how to escape his baby blue eyes that always looked to her. The ones that always made it her fault, made it seem like this was love, made her feel small, like nothing.

Y/N would lay awake at night, the blond boy sleeping soundly next to her, replaying the death of her happiness. It was horrible. She would be laying next to the cheater, his arm around her and everytime she shut her eyes, she’d relive it.

Y/N was coming home early from work. It was her birthday and her boss, who was also her best friend, gave her the rest of the day off. She had come home to a new car parked in her spot in the driveway. Y/N just figured it was one of the many new friends Harrison was bringing home.

Y/N had never been more wrong in her life. Upon walking in, she saw it. The heals and the purse and coat on the floor. Her heart literally stopped. Catching your boyfriend cheating and having suspicions are two completely different things.

With her heart in her throat, Y/N walked a slow walk of despair to her room. She had never felt like this, all good things in her body had flown out the window, never to return. Her palms were sweaty and her heart rate accelerated the closer she got to the room. She was outside the room now, the only thing separating her from the truth was a thin piece of wood.

She pushed it open and once her eyes laid on the scene before her, the last bit of pure angelicness died. Y/N was no longer Y/N. Y/N was gone, dead. The gasp that fell past her lips was involuntary, the scene before her too graphic, too heartbreaking. It was her man, in their bed with another woman.

Clothes were thrown about the room and the once pure, white sheets was pulled up to cover both their chests. The door handle fell from her grasp and she stood, unable to move, the picture burned into her mind.

Harrison’s eyes were wide as the unnamed girl next to him cried out in surprise. Harrison sat up a bit, removing himself from the dirty woman. “What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be at work!” There was no guilt, just anger.

Y/N was angry too. After the months of biting her tongue and refusing to let it get to her, she broke. The sight to much, killing the kindness inside of the pretty girl. She screamed, the volume burning her throat, “That’s all you have to say?!” The girl who was cheated of love was practically pulling out her hair. “Harrison! How could you do this to me?! I do everything for you!”

He had just shrugged, sighing, “I’m just havin’ fun, darling.”

How did we get so far gone? I should know by now, you should know by now. We should know by now. Something's gotta give, something's gotta break. But all I do is give and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, but I know that it won't. No reason to stay, is a good reason to go. Is a good reason to go

The once angelic girl was dead. She wasn’t ever the same after seeing her man in bed with another. Unfortunately, there was this thing called love. The thing that alters your brain chemistry. The thing that makes it hard to think. So guess what, even after all that, the young girl still loved him. The broken girl was still broken, loving a bastard. It’s gotta break eventually, right? The angel has to break through at some point, right? Right?

I should know by now, you should know by now. I think I'm breaking right now. I should know by now, you should know by now. I think I'm breaking right now. Something's gotta give, something's gotta break. But all I do is give and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, no I know that it won't. No reason to stay, is a good reason to go. Is a good reason to go. Something's gotta give

taglist; @rainbow-marvel @darlintom @yoinksholland

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield angst #harrison osterfield fluff #harry holland #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst #sam holland #sam holland imagine #sam holland fluff #sam holland angst

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bourbonboredom · 6 years

Text

Silver Lining Chapter 3

If you’re ever gonna find a silver lining, it’s gotta be a cloudy day

A ClydexReader fanfic

Word Count: 2,243

Warnings: mention of drug use, a lil angst

Silver Lining Masterlist

Tag List: @oh-adam @kyloren-supreme-ben @xis23 @elsablackswift @ladygrey03 @grey-reylo-solo @givemelifeorgiveme

She showed up the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Her promise to be out of his hair in a couple weeks had long passed by the time spring came to Boone county, but Clyde didn’t mind one bit.

April marked six weeks of her working at the bar. Six weeks of setting-up and closing-down times being cut in half. Six weeks of that downtime being used to shoot the breeze and learning more about one another. He liked to drink beer when he wasn't at work, she liked her Jack and Cokes. He had smoked in high school but quit after joining the military, she couldn't stand the smell of cigarettes. His brother had made him try out for football with him and he got tackled to the ground in the first ten minutes of practice and he swore off sports forever, and she had a different sport for every season in high school. They both liked to read.

It was after the first week that she started to come in to her shifts with different clothes. The zipped-up hoodie was exchanged for flannels with the buttons done all the way up. Clyde thought maybe it was for a religious reason but as the weeks progressed, her sleeves were rolled up and she’d unbutton to a more casual level. She would comment that the weather was warmer here than it was back home.

In the middle of the second week she came to work with a cellphone in hand. It was a simple pre-paid model, but she asked him for his phone number in case she needed to reach him outside work. In the later weeks, they’d taken to texting one another cocktail recipes to try out. The Logan siblings had noticed their brother using his phone more often, and took to teasing him whenever his phone would chime.

His siblings also took to coming ‘round the bar more often. At first to check up on their brother, who had basically hired a girl off the street. They were just making sure she didn't rob him blind. But as the weeks past they’d warmed up to her. It was around week four when she was joining the Logan circle during her down-time on shifts.

“Don’t spend all that time around them darlin’, their luck’ll rub off an you,” one of the barflies yelled to her one day.

“Everyone’s got their misfortunes, I’ll handle what comes my way like anyone else would,” she said back simply. Jimmy and Mellie gave their brother an approving look after that.

Despite seeing her almost everyday at the bar, Clyde never saw her around town off work. Not that he was looking, of course, but the thought was there in his head. It would seem she worked and didn't do much else. She never missed a shift, never asked for time off, and was always aiming to please. She’d make the customers smile, and even found ways to make her rather-stoic boss crack a grin.

He wasn’t much for smiling but she found ways. It usually involved mimicking his accent, which was followed by him mimicking hers, which she loved. She’d make a point to remember his favorite songs and put them on the jukebox first thing when she turned it on. She even helped string up some lights to the porch one day before Clyde came in to work, after she heard him say he wanted to do it in passing the week prior.

He was snapped out if his thoughts of her by her voice calling across the bar to a customer.

“Here on a Thursday Lorie? Must have been some kinda week,”

“You know it was,” Lorie Ann, a local in her late-twenties said as she cozied up to the bar. “The ER at Charleston was no joke this week,”

“You want the usual then?”

“Nah, get me one a those Blood Moon things you make for Ashlynn. I need somethin’ strong tonight,”

She made the drink without missing a beat as she carried on conversation with the nurse who was regaling her with the amount of overdoses she’d had to treat that week. Come to think of it, she hadn’t made a mistake at the bar yet. Drink orders were always right, no names were forgotten or glasses broken, Clyde was starting to think she was made for this job.

“We had one from Boone County, he had been holed up in the Super 8 down the road on some kinda binge. His face was all swollen up and the EMTs told us the needle was still hangin’ outta his arm when they got him,” They both grimaced at that.

“Well, you’re off shift now, do yourself a favor and take a good break, that’s hard work you do everyday.” she said, sliding over Lorie Ann’s drink.

“Thanks darlin’. Hey, are you still staying at that Super 8? I don’t know if you should be hangin’ out around there with that kinda activity goin’ on,”

She gave a tight smile, “I haven’t found anywhere besides there yet, but thanks for your concern,”

That weighed heavily on Clyde’s mind for the rest of the evening. He’d never thought to ask if she was still staying in that motel. It would make sense though for that few weeks she thought she’d be there for, but it was well over a month now. Was she planning on moving soon? Moving away?

That thought made his heart sink a bit. It was closing time when he decided to ask what her intentions were.

“You’d said to Lorie Ann that you were lookin’ to move?” he started as he stacked up the chairs. “Are you leavin’ town?”

She didn't respond for a moment.

“I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome anymore than I already have. I’d told you a couple of weeks but it’s been well past that. I dont want to take advantage—“

“You’re not,” he said, maybe a little two quickly. His eyes locked with hers and he lost is breath for a moment.

“You’re not. You- you’ve been nothin’ but helpful since y’started. Doin’ everythin’ I ask, and even things I don’t ask for. You did tell me you’d be here for just a couple a weeks but— if you wanted to stay, I’ll keep you on here,”

She kept staring at him, working her bottom lip against her teeth, as if to stop words from tumbling out. His ears felt like they were on fire and he was grateful his hair was covering them.

“I can’t keep stayin’ at the Super 8, it takes up a whole days pay sometimes—“

“I can pay you more. A real salary. And one’a the houses by me and Jimmy just went up for rent. The landlord is a friend, I could probably work down the price a bit,” he hoped he didn't sound desperate, “If you’d want that,”

She moved towards him so quickly, he didn't have time to react as she pulled him into a hug.

“You’re too kind to me,”

“It’s nothin’,” he hugged her back awkwardly, hoping she didn't feel his heart thundering in his chest where her head rested. “Does that mean you’ll stay?” he asked a little quieter.

She let go and looked up at him, smiling so wide that the spot where her tooth was missing could be seen.

“I reckon I could,”

She was getting better at the accent every day, he thought to himself as he gave a small smile.

“We can see it as soon as tomorrow,” he told her.

———————————

Clyde had texted her the directions as soon as he’d gotten home that night. He was in the kitchen with Jimmy when his phone chimed with her response. Clyde reached for his phone, but his brother was faster.

“She’s thankin’ you, with a smiley face?” his voice was full of mischief “Now what’d you do to deserve that?”

“Nothin’ don’t worry about—“ the phone chimed again, still in Jimmy’s hand.

“She wants to know if she needs to bring anything tomorrow?” A grin grew across his face. “You gone an asked her out didn’t ya?”

Clyde wanted to sink into the floor. Jimmy always knew how to push his buttons when it came to women. He knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but being the younger, less-popular, less-attractive, less-charismatic, less-everything Logan brother— he was a little sensitive when Jimmy talked to him about the opposite sex.

“If you must know, It’s not a date. I’m helping her find a place to live. She's been living in the motel off 17 and she wants somewhere a little more permanent,”

“Does she now? Would this have anything to do with the neighbors movin’ out and the place next door freein’ up?”

If Clyde could roll his eyes back into his head any further, they’d get stuck there. Jimmy saw this, and still continued on talking.

“Havin’ her next door could be nice, but remember how easy it was for us to hear the last couple who lived there? Especially during the night? Remember that if you an her decide t—”

“I’d appreciate you not finishin’ that sentence,” Clyde said in the frighteningly even tone he used when his brother would go to far. “An I’d appreciate you givin’ me my phone back,”

Jimmy handed his brother back the phone.

“All I’m sayin’ is its been a while since you had someone in your life, an she's really somethin’ Clyde. Mellie and I like her. She’s helpin’ you,”

“It’s not gonna be like that an thats the end of it,” he went back to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He sunk onto his bed, feeling disheartened. He had girlfriends in the past. A couple in high school, and one that was with him through basic and his first tour but broke up with him soon after. After the accident, Mellie set him up with one of the girls from the salon but that didn't last beyond a few dates on account of her treating him like he was fragile. She’d look at his arm too often. He hadn’t been fitted for the prosthetic yet, he had to wait months for his limb to heal before that. Pity oozed out of her mouth no matter what she said.

Since then, he was making his peace with being alone. He sat up on the edge of his bed and unbuckled his prosthetic. He placed it on his dresser and removed the sock from his limb that protected from chafing. He ran his fingers over the scarred flesh, he didn't care to acknowledge the area too often. He’d try telling himself that he was lucky that more of him wasn’t lost, that he could have died instead. But that was hard to remember when he’d see the look of pity on peoples faces when they saw the plastic in place of his left hand.

It would still feel unreal at times. He had gone though almost 23 years of his life when it happened. He didn't realize he could take a body part for granted until it was too late. It was four years later and he was still processing it. Talking about it with the Veteran Affairs therapist up in Charleston had been too hard at the time. Most days he could barely get out of bed, much less travel the half hour to the city. And now he was too busy to get up there.

Learning how to do things one-handed was incredibly frustrating, leading to him lash out a lot. He was angrier back then, said hurtful things that he didn't mean to his siblings who he knew were only trying to help. He made an effort to never yell at them again after he calmed down. It was Jimmy who helped him get a job at Duck Tape. The old owner was a Vet himself, and never treated Clyde like he was any less. He taught him tips and tricks and having someone with shared life experience helped him mellow out and realize things were going to be okay.

The owner retired and moved to Arkansas to be closer to his grandkids about 2 years ago, leaving the bar to Clyde. He didn't know if he could do it at first, run a bar by himself, but he’d hire people on to help him out. Most didn't stay long for one reason for another, but Duck Tape still stood and he was proud to be the owner. Mel had once told him that he could do more with one hand than most could do with two, which made him smile when he was doubting himself.

He picked up his phone to see her name still on the screen. He texted her back saying that she didn't need to bring anything special and put his phone down on the nightstand next to his prosthetic.

He thought about his brothers words as he lay in bed. ‘She’s somethin’’, he couldn't deny that. ‘She’s helping’, she was doing that too, though he suspected Jimmy meant something else by that.

She never treated him different, which he appreciated. Some of the other employees he had hired would ask intrusive questions, or would act like he couldn't do anything helpful. They never lasted long at the bar. But she’d done well so far. Made his life a little easier, a little happier. He felt his eyes grow heavy with sleep, and soon fell asleep with her on his mind.

#logan lucky #clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan x oc #clyde logan/oc #silver lining

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littlestshelby · 7 years

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Michaels Girl. Pt2.

Part one.

It was 5 months later now and Michael had bought him and (y/n) a house out in the country close to his adopted family. When he went back to small heath, (y/n) would stay with his mother or have his younger brother stay with her. He didn’t want her to be alone. Mainly because of what had happened but also partly because he was worried she would strain herself.

(Y/n) was now 8 months pregnant and her bump was very noticeable, even though her and Michael weren’t married yet everyone in the village called her Mrs Gray. It made her happy, not that she went into the village much. She didn’t really leave the house. Keeping to herself. She spent most of her time reading or knitting for the baby.

“Love I bought you some apples I’ll leave them in the kitchen I’m off into the city to get Henry’s birthday present do you need anything!” Rosemary called. (Y/n) smiled, she still called Michael, Henry. Obviously Michael never corrected her he had to much respect for the woman who brought him up. They hadn’t told Polly yet but if the baby was a boy they were going to name him after Michaels late adopted father.

“I’m okay thank you rosemary have a nice time!” She shouted back getting to her feet. Her hair was lay over her one shoulder and her dress tight against her stomach. The shawl Michael had bought her for Christmas wrapped around her. She went to the kitchen and watched rosemary potter up the path toward the village.

Michael would be home soon, she reminded herself as she took a deep breath it was starting to get dark and she hated being alone. Michael was never not home this late. She chewed on her fingers staring at the phone from her place on Michaels desk chair.

When they had first moved out to the country Polly and the other shelbys had been against it completely. Shouting about them staying close and keeping safe but Michael had pointed at tommy and seethed out, “it’s your fault this happened she’s staying no where near this place, we are going home.” And three days later they had the house.

(Y/n) reached for the phone but jumped hearing the front door open her panic leaving her body. “Michael!” She called carefully standing up hurrying into the hall. “You’re late I was worrie-“ she froze seeing Michael with his hands above his head two men either side of him. “(Y/n) go to our bedroom and stay there Okay.” He spoke slowly staring at her. (Y/n) was froze her eyes stuck on the guns in the mens hands, Michael had a black eye and his head was bleeding.

“No the bitch stays.” One of the men grabbed her arm and shoved her into the living room Michael shouting for them not to touch her. “She’s nothing to do with this she’s just a country girl staying here, let her go.” He seethed as they shoved (y/n) to the floor. They hit Michael in the back with the butt of the gun making him drop to his knees. (Y/n) Let Out a little scream holding her stomach reaching over to get closer to Michael but one of the men kicked her away.

They tied both of their wrists and ankles and sat them back to back in front of the fireplace. “Just stay calm darlin, they’ll find the money and leave okay.” He lent his head back against hers trying to re assure her. (Y/n) was terrified. They had moved out here, gone so far away to be safe and out of trouble but it still found them.

Breathing in deeply she nodded. “I know.” She smiled a little closing her eyes. “Mr Campbell wants us to make an example of you Mr Gray. A warnin to those dirty gypsy cousins of yours..” one of the men spoke smirking as he pulled the black mask from his face. Michael stared at him, he was going to kill them. He had shown them his face there was no way he would keep them alive now.

“Just let her go she’s just one of the village girls got ‘erself knocked up and I gave ‘er a place to stay.” Michael begged. (Y/n) shook her head, this Wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. This was their home, they were safe here.

“She looks awfully like your fiancé Mr Gray” the man spoke pacing the room. “I call my cousins every time I get home. Especially since your ‘boss’ started fucking around. I’ve missed the check in.” Michael smirked. Chewing her lip (y/n) thought about the gun in the box on the mantle. Glancing at the men who were no talking amongst themselves she pushed back against michael who frowned trying to turn to look at her.

(Y/n) grabbed the corner of the box her arms straining above her head wincing as she reached grabbing it it fell to the floor with a thud making the men snap their eyes over to them. Michael grabbed the gun with his tied hands and aimed it at the men. “Go. Now.” He growled. The brown haired man just laughed and aimed his gun at (y/n). While the other aimed at Michael. “Cant shoot us both Mr Gray.” Stomping towards him he grabbed the gun and threw it. He dragged (y/n) to her feet and held her throat.

Michael stopped fighting against the man letting him move him to where he wanted. His eyes transfixed on the hand on his fiancés throat. Shaking (y/n) took a breath. “Make em suffer, Inspector Campbell had specific instructions on what to do with you” The man laughed getting closer to (y/n)s face.

Gasping (y/n) let out a cry as water rushed down her legs. “Michael” She cried loudly making everyone go quiet a minute. “Just put a bullet in her head, she’s havin the bastard gonna make a right noise” the man rolled his eyes sitting Michael on one of the dining room chairs. “I swear to god I’m going to fucking gut you” Micheal spoke darkly.

The man next to (y/n) cut the rope on her hands and held the gun to her head with a smirk. “Do it there that way he can see his beloveds brains spray against the wall.” Michael was going to be sick.

(Y/n) stood with gritted teeth holding her stomach. “I love you.” She hiccuped feeling the gun press against her temple. Michael struggled against his restraints screaming and swearing at the bastards. He snapped his head to the side to scream at the man beside him when he heard it, the noise he had heard a million times.

The sound of a bullet leaving the chamber, flying threw the air and lodging itself snuggly inside the flesh of its victim. Michael couldn’t look, his head hammering the first time he saw her flashing across his eyes. She was his life, her and the baby were his future and they were gone, these bastards had taken her away.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion around him. He kept his gaze on the flowers on the table, she loved flowers, he would bring her home fresh flowers every Friday and on a Sunday morning they would walk out into the fields and sit in the poppy field for hours on end just playing and laughing with each other. He was never going to hear her laugh again, see her smile, see her blush.

Slowly looking down at the floor he saw blood splashed up his trousers, her blood. He followed the splatter across the floor to the body. He braced himself to see her. See her pale and dead on the floor but he didn’t. (Y/n) was stood shaking staring at the door while the brown hairs man was sprawled out on the floor with blood seeping from his head.

Michael felt someone tugging at his hands, looking down finn was cutting the rope from his hands while Arthur stomped the second man into the floor. “(Y/n)” Tommy was stood in front of her holding her arms trying to get her to make eye contact but she was to busy shakin and staring at the man on the ground.

Michael stumbled across the room quickly shoving tommy out that way. “(Y/n) darlin it’s okay. It’s okay” he shoved the words out of his mouth holding onto her squeezing her tightly before he felt her tense up underneath him. “Fuck Fuck Fuck”

“She’s in labour get Mum!” Michael winced sitting her down, “sweetheart look at me” he wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her eyes snapped to him as her breathing sped up. “This hurts.” She whispered her voice cracking. He nodded stroking her hair back. “I know love I know but when it’s over we’ll have our baby yeah?” He smiled a little kissing her head. “John help me get her to the bedroom and Tommy get the fuck out of my house.” Michael spat.

Once (y/n) had been moved to the bedroom the men All waited outside, getting rid of the bloody mess that was in the living room. (Y/n) lay on the bed panting her forehead slick with sweat as she held Michaels hands.

“Michael where’s your Mum.” She cried softly, Michael had undressed her down to Just her slip and had a cold flannel on her chest. “She’ll be here soon love I promise.” He thumbed the tears from her face.

“Oh fuck” She shouted out as she got a harsh contraction. “Michael it’s coming now I can feel it.” The baby was crowning and the only person who could help her deliver the baby at this point was Michael.

Shoving his shirt sleeves up, Michael took a deep breath and moved from her side to the end of the bed. “Holy fucking Jesus, I can see the head! I can see it’s head.” Panicking Michael rugged at his hair.

“I-I need to push m-Michael you need to hold the head and help me.” She panted sitting up a little getting ready to push. (Y/n) had helped with Ada and Esmes baby’s before so was hoping her birth would be as easy as theirs.

Wish a mighty push and a high pitched scream Michael held the baby’s head in his hands “Okay okay now what.” He asked quickly staring down at his child’s puffy face.

Before she could answer (y/n) was pushing again and Michael got the general idea, she pushed he caught. “Okay (y/n) you’ve got this love one more push and we have our baby.” Michael watched her cry and grip the sheets once more, and with one last push their baby was born.

“It’s a girl.” He breathed dropping back onto his knees holding the tiny screaming baby in his hands. She was so small but so perfect, quickly cutting the cord just as Polly and Esme burst threw the door. “Oh my god.” Esme quickly took the baby from Michael and Polly was helping (y/n) checking her over and helping her clean herself up.

Michael and (y/n) ignored everyone just watching Esme carefully wrap the baby in one of Michaels thick shirts. Relaxing slightly when Esme handed her the baby (y/n) sat back grinning at her little girl. Glancing up she nodded for Michael to come over. He was still covered in both of their blood and other things that wouldn’t be coming out of his white shirt. “We have a daughter.” He whispered sitting with (y/n).

Polly kissed her sons head before leaving the room quietly giving them a few moments alone. “She’s so perfect.” (Y/n) whispered touching her little face gently. Michael beamed staring at her in awe. “She’s just like you.”

“Michael we need to go home.” (Y/n) spoke after a few minutes of them just watching the baby. “What?” Michael frowned. “Love we are home.” She shook her head. “Watery lane, small heath, Birmingham. It’s safer. I want her kept safe and the more family around her the better.” She spoke quietly.

“Love about tonight I-“ (y/n) shook her head. “Not now, lets just be here in this moment a little while later.” She whispered. Michael bowed his head.

“I like Elizabeth Rose Gray. Or Rosie Elizabeth.” (Y-n) smiled as the baby slept in Michaels arms. “Elizabeth rose sounds perfect.” He smiled looking down at his soon to be wife. “Perfect.” She breathed.

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