#somebody get the memory gun because they make me SICK | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elftwink · 4 years ago

Text

no thoughts only taakitz superhero/villain coffeeshop au. taako’s power is shapeshifting but he has a cool gun from lup. kravitz’s power is Big Fuckin Scythe With Unspecified Abilities. also there was no time to get into it but fantasy starbucks isn’t a real starbucks it’s a borderline illegal unaffiliated bootleg starbucks that taako and lup own. like dumb starbucks was.

By all rights, it should have been a fairly routine night for the Reaper. Go out, stop some crimes, arrive just in time to prevent whatever scheme the Mongoose had cooked up this week, exchange some one liners, make some threats that essentially amounted to ��same time next week?’, the works. A regular Tuesday as a superhero in Neverwinter.

But Kravitz is tired, and more than a little distracted, so he’s not doing so hot on the one liners, and the Mongoose’s attacks are a little closer than they would normally be. He doesn’t even have a good excuse, it’s not like he’s injured, or that he has anything pressing to think of.

It was just— this morning his barista (who he may or may not have been harbouring a small crush on) had mentioned offhand that he thought the Reaper was ‘probably hot under the stupid all-black getup’, and Kravitz didn’t really know what the protocol was for someone complimenting your alter-ego was.

“I think if you were gonna go for the strong silent type, you had to start doing it months ago. Now it’s just acting like an asshole. Are you mad at me?” the Mongoose cuts into his thoughts, firing off another few missiles from his stupid umbrella gun (Umbrastaff, he called it, although it was a gun and not a staff so Kravitz had no idea why he insisted on calling it that).

“We are literally fighting as we speak,” says Kravitz, playing up the cockney accent, spinning his scythe to deflect the missiles off the blade, sending them ricocheting around the room. He’d said something like ‘how can you tell’ to Taako— the barista (well, they’d been on a first name basis for a few weeks, so, Taako), and he’d said ‘I can just tell’ which was not at all helpful in getting Kravitz through the conversation without saying or doing something to give himself away.

He’d almost given Taako his number, but how was he going to justify that? Hey, it’s me under the all black getup. Do you want to go out sometime? As if.

“You can have fights without being fuckin’ rude,” says the Mongoose, firing off another few rounds, which Kravitz deflects again, advancing on him.

“You’re right, sorry. I’m a bit scattered. Not exactly my A game.” As if to prove his point, the Mongoose easily dodges his next couple swings with the scythe, not even bothering to leave his range.

“Clearly. I mean, normally you’re at least close enough that I can feel the breeze from your sword.”

“It’s not a sword, and you know that.” Kravitz brings down the scythe in the space where the Mongoose was only seconds before, having already backflipped out of the way and landed a few metres back. Show off. Not that Kravitz had room to complain about that. The Mongoose spins to face him again, at least this time seemingly aware of what a close call that was. He’s tense, and his hair, which Kravitz supposes has thus far been hidden underneath his costume, has come somewhat unravelled, black braid falling to the middle of his back.

It seems... familiar?

He doesn’t have time for that right now. Kravitz draws back the scythe, feeling the hum of energy under his fingers, swinging again, and—

“Wait! Time out!” the Mongoose puts up a hand and Kravitz, for who knows what reason, stops his scythe mid-swing. The familiarity sticks, so it’s not just a trick of the light. It takes him a second to place, but the hairstyle... it looks a lot like a certain barista he’d been spending all night thinking about.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. It’s because he has Taako on the brain, is all. Besides, he has other things to worry about besides seeing his crush in his enemy. Namely the fight currently happening with said enemy. “What? You can’t call a time out.”

“I just did,” says the Mongoose, fishing through his pockets and pulling out several bobby pins, sticking them in his mouth so he can use both hands to fix his hair. Kravitz blinks, still trying to shake off the sense of deja vu, but it won’t quit nagging him. “It’s a whole safety issue to leave long hair down.”

“It’s still in a braid,” retorts Kravitz.

“Somebody never took Foodsafe.” the Mongoose gives him a lopsided grin that Kravitz fucking knows he’s seen before, and suddenly it’s more than just passing familiarity, and how could he possibly have not noticed before, and— the Mongoose finishes putting up his hair, raising an eyebrow at Kravitz and his private crisis. “Alright. Ready—”

“You work at Fantasy Starbucks,” blurts Kravitz, without even thinking about it. The Mongoose stops dead in his tracks, and Kravitz can see his eyes widen even behind the mask. He splutters for a moment, and then seems to find his footing, already ready with a snarky remark.

“Yeah, well— your accent is fake.”

Shit. He’d forgotten. At the only time so far that having it would have been useful too. Still, he pushes it out of his mind; the Mongoose hadn’t denied it. And, well, he’s already solidly derailed this fight, so he might as well get some real confirmation out of it.

“...Taako? It is you, isn’t it?”

“Just who the fuck are y—” The Mongoose— Taako— levels the Umbrastaff at him, and then stops again. “...Kravitz?”

Well. Shit. Again. Kravitz doesn’t bother to affirm that; his silence is more than enough confirmation. One of them has to say or do something, but the seconds stretch on.

“You’re telling me I said all that shit to your face this morning?” says Taako.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

“Uh, yeah—” Taako is backing up now, and they’ve fought enough times that Kravitz knows when the Mongoose is looking for an escape route; Kravitz’s feet still feel glued to the floor, even when Taako reaches the window, fingers already turning to talons around the Umbrastaff. Taako breaks the glass (because of course he does, even though the windows aren’t even fucking locked), breaking eye contact with Kravitz in order to swing his legs through the window before his form changes too much. “Look, this is like, a lot right now, and I— I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he says, and then drops. Whatever had been keeping Kravitz in place, slack jawed, ends as soon as Taako leaves his sight, and he’s moving before he has time to think about it.

“Wait—!” Kravitz runs for the window, but by the time he gets there, the bird clutching the Umbrastaff is nearly out of sight.

Well. That could have gone better.

***

Kravitz doesn’t go for his coffee the next day. Or the next day, either, although the day after that he’s sick of making his own coffee. And frankly, he misses chatting with Taako. Even if the guy was trying to kill him like once a week. He couldn’t just avoid this forever.

Still, the fact that Taako is working cash when he comes in makes him want to turn tail and run back home. He conjures up the memory of yesterday’s shitty coffee and pushes onward. The shop is mostly empty still, so there’s no line.

“The usual?” says Taako, like nothing abnormal has happened.

“Please,” says Kravitz, and then, before he can chicken out entirely, adds, “Uhm, do you have a few minutes?”

“My shift isn’t over until—”

“I’ll cover you,” comes Lup’s voice from the back room; she pokes her head out and gives Taako a look that is clearly significant, but that Kravitz can’t quite puzzle out. “Take five minutes after you’re done making his coffee.”

Taako scowls at her, and she smiles brightly before heading to the back again.

“Okay. I guess I have five minutes. Talk to you after I make your coffee.”

Kravitz nods, and goes to hover around the pickup counter, pretending to be interested in things on his phone. Taako makes his coffee in a ceramic mug, which at least means he doesn’t want Kravitz to get the fuck out as soon as possible, so that’s... something.

Taako slides the finished coffee across the counter, circling around to join Kravitz on the customer side as Kravitz grabs the mug.

“Lup!” he hollers, and then starts walking towards one of the corner booths without checking to see if his sister is headed to cash or if Kravitz is following. Kravitz does, though, sliding himself into the seat opposite Taako, hands wrapped tightly around the mug.

Taako speaks first. “To be honest, I kinda thought you would rat me out.”

“That would be shitty of me, to just sic authorities on your place of work without so much as a warning.”

“So is this the warning?”

“No,” says Kravitz, taking a sip of his coffee, “I... can’t really make coffee without burning it. And this is the only place for miles with tolerable muffins.”

Taako cracks a grin, like Kravitz knew he would. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” His smile falls, and he crosses his arms and leans back. “So. Reaper. Why didn’t you rat me out?”

Why indeed. Kravitz takes another sip of his coffee and thinks for a second, not even sure himself what his explanation will be once he starts talking.

“It didn’t seem... fair. You’re less of a villain and more of a pain in my ass—” Kravitz ignores Taako’s indignant noise and keeps talking, “—and while we always have cause to fight when on the clock, you’re not doing anything that I feel needs to leave the bounds of those... work hours, I guess.”

Taako is trying to pick him apart with his gaze; it’s something he’s been subjected to several times, although normally in costume, and in retrospect it’s difficult to imagine how he spent so long not noticing the Mongoose in Taako.

Whatever Taako is looking for, he must find it, because he relaxes a bit, and shoots him a lazy grin. “Plus, Mongoose related insurance just got rolling and it would be fuckin’ rude to take me out of commission before anyone got to use theirs.”

Kravitz laughs. “Sure.” He’s silent for a second, before adding, “You aren’t planning on revealing my secret identity, are you? Awfully rude of you to double cross me like that.”

“Wha— You didn’t even give me a chance to respond! Maybe I wasn’t!”

“Were you?”

“I was,” admits Taako, not even pretending to look sheepish. Kravitz raises his eyebrows, and Taako shrugs. “Oh, like you didn’t think about revealing my secret identity? And could you imagine the hype if I unmasked the Reaper? I was tempted.” He sighs. “But I figured then you’d have no reason to keep my identity a secret. No way am I risking a backfire like that.”

It sounds callous, but Kravitz has been talking to Taako almost daily for months; at this point, he can pretty reliably pick up on when Taako isn’t being entirely truthful about something.

“Hmm. Then I suppose it’d be in my best interest not to tell you that I wouldn’t reveal your identity even if you revealed mine?”

Taako narrows his eyes. “Why not?”

Kravitz makes a face. “It’s just in poor taste. I just think we all go through all the trouble to hide who we are and use these powers for good— or whatever it is you do— that it’s always going to be such a low blow to reveal who we are. There might be times where it’s necessary, but petty revenge is not one of them.”

Taako’s expression hasn’t changed; if anything, he’s narrowed his eyes more. “God, you are like— fuckin’ irritatingly nice. Fine. I wasn’t going to reveal your identity. That would be fuckin’ annoying to deal with. Plus I’m having fun.”

“Fun?”

“Oh don’t— don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’re having fun out there too. With your stupid accent and one liners and shit.”

“Alright, alright,” says Kravitz, rolling his eyes. “But I’m not supposed to be having fun, so keep it quiet.”

“See, that’s why I market myself as a villain. No dumb rules.” He puts an elbow on the table and leans on his hand. “Why do you have a fake accent anyway?”

Heat rises to Kravitz’s face, and he’s hoping he looks less embarrassed than he feels. “It’s my— I do it so people don’t recognize my voice.”

Taako laughs. “Well, it doesn’t really do that if you immediately stop using it when you realize you might know someone.”

“I was caught off guard!” defends Kravitz. “It’s not every day you find out your nemesis is your barista.”

“Nemesis, huh?” Taako grins. “Didn’t realize it was that serious to you. You know I have other heroes to fight.”

Kravitz rolls his eyes again. “I don’t see how you have the time, considering how often you’re causing trouble for me.”

Taako laughs, and it’s so contagious and the whole conversation is so surreal Kravitz can’t help but laugh too, before they both lapse into a comfortable, if drawn out, silence.

“So, uh,” says Taako eventually, “what now?”

“Well,” says Kravitz, “I want to keep coming in for coffee in the mornings. And I assume the Mongoose will continue with... whatever chaos it is you currently have planned.”

“It’s not chaos,” insists Taako, “I have plans. But yeah. And I assume the Reaper is gonna show up and throw a wrench in those plans?”

“Yes, probably. So we’ll just be enemies by night...” Kravitz trails off, not entirely sure how to refer to their by day relationship. Friends? Potential love interests? Acquaintances? There’s a few seconds of awkward silence before Kravitz gives up entirely.

Taako pulls and pen and a napkin out of his pocket, jotting something down and pushing it towards Kravitz.

“Here’s, uh, here’s my number. If you give me a heads up five minutes before you get here, we can have your coffee ready by the time you walk in. If you’re nice to me out there.”

“I don’t take bribes,” says Kravitz, grabbing the napkin and pulling out his phone to type in the number.

“That wasn’t a bribe, it was a threat. You don’t even wanna know what I’ll do to your coffee if you fuck me up.”

Kravitz doesn’t bother to point out that neither of them have ever caused any extreme bodily harm to one another and instead says, “So you’re asking me to go easy on you? I thought you were having fun.” He sends Taako a ‘hey it’s kravitz’ text before he has time to second guess himself.

“Could you stop poking holes in my threats? You’re harshing my fuckin’ vibe, Krav.” He sounds irritated, but Kravitz can see the smile tugging at his lips as he texts Kravitz a couple of skull emojis. “I should get back to work before my sister kicks my ass,” he says, standing back up. “I’ll see you tonight, nemesis.” Then he turns on his heels and heads back to the counter, saying something to Lup as he walks by. Kravitz watches him disappear into the back room.

Tonight.

Kravitz had better make sure he had hung his cloak up to dry.

#this is like. 2k words of unpolished nonsense that desperately needs an edit BUT i had a lot of fun with it #i dont know how the powers work or where they are or why they're fighting or who theyre affiliated with ok just roll w/#*roll w/me on this one. just go with it #taako's name was selected by virtue of being the only thing on his wiki page that sounded even remotely like a good supervillain name #taakitz #taz balance #mine

460 notes · View notes

fckwritersblock · 4 years ago

Text

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should’ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

—————————-

Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen

#transformers imagine #transformers #Captain William lennox #william lennox #Lennox x reader #sam witwicky #will lennox x reader #transformers x reader #black!reader #Sam witwicky x reader #optimus prime

488 notes · View notes

rizlowwritessortof · 3 years ago

Text

Meant To Be - Chapter 9

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 5547

Warnings: Smutty smut

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Jordan moved her arm, and the unfamiliar tug of the IV finished waking her from a deep sleep. Her eyes opened, focusing slowly on the figure of the man sleeping in the recliner beside her bed. Dean was sound asleep, arms flung wide, an occasional soft snore escaping his parted lips. She smiled, relieved to see him there, safe and apparently uninjured. His vest was draped over a nearby chair, his boots beside it, badge and gun still in place at his waist.

She watched him silently until the quiet whoosh of the opening door made her turn her head that way. A nurse came in, her eyes falling on the peacefully sleeping man, and she quietly made her way to Jordan’s side. “How are you doing?” she whispered, taking her wrist between her fingers to check her pulse.

“I’m good. The doctor said once this bag was gone, the IV could come out – can you do that?”

“Sure!” She worked on that, nodding her head towards Dean. “Looks like you have your own private security, huh?”

Jordan grinned. “I’m very lucky.”

The nurse nodded, her eyebrows raised in agreement. “Yeah, you are. Well, let me know if you need anything else. Doc should be here in a couple of hours, once he okays it, you’ll be able to go home.”

“Thank you,” Jordan whispered back, and the nurse walked back to the door, turning with an expression of appreciation as she glanced back at Dean, pretending to fan herself before grinning and pulling the door closed behind her. Jordan giggled softly, and Dean stirred a little, his eyes opening slowly, squinting as he tried to focus. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she teased, and a crooked smile quirked up one side of his lips.

“Hey, yourself. How are you doing?” His voice was raspy with sleep, eyes heavy-lidded, his hair mussed and adorable, and she smiled affectionately back at him.

“I’m good. Head still pounding a little, but not as bad.” She threw her covers back, swinging her legs around, and hopped off the bed, coming over to crawl into his lap.

“Are they sure, they checked you out?”

She looked into his eyes, nodding. “Cat scan, the whole works. I have a concussion, but everything else is okay. Nurse said I can go home as soon as the doc checks in.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he pulled her closer with a soft hum against her lips.

He slipped his hand just beneath the hem of her hospital gown, fingers trailing over her knee as he laid his head back and smiled at her. “Donna’s bringing some clothes for you, she’ll be here in about an hour. Then we can stop and see Sam, if you want.”

She nodded. “Yes, I definitely want.” She cuddled against him, kissing his neck before settling her head on his shoulder with a sigh. When Donna arrived, they were both asleep in the chair.

She knocked lightly on the inside of the door, and they both stirred, yawning. “Hey, Donna,” Jordan smiled sleepily, not moving from her perch.

“Hey, you two. I hated to wake you, but I think the doc’s on his way soon, anyway. How are you feelin’, hon?”

“A little headache and neck pain, but other than that, I’m ok. I was better when I woke up and saw Dean sitting here and I knew you guys were all right.”

“Oh, hell, yeah. Like they used to say on Dukes of Hazzard, we cuffed ‘em and stuffed ‘em,” Donna joked, and the girls laughed. “Of course, Dean wanted to kill the creep that had you, but…”

“Sometimes it sucks being one of the good guys,” he grumbled, and Jordan smiled down at him.

“Don’t feel bad, I kinda wanted to kill him myself,” she said, dropping a kiss on his nose before sliding off his lap. “You brought me clothes?” Donna held out a bag and Jordan took it with a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll get dressed, and then we can go see Sam?”

“That’s the plan, as soon as the doc lets you go,” Dean answered, and she stepped into the bathroom to change.

After an impatient wait, the doctor finally showed up to release Jordan, and they all headed to Sam’s room together. He was sitting up and talking quietly to Sarah when they walked in, and she jumped up to give Jordan a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay! You must have been terrified,” she sympathized, and Jordan nodded.

“Not something I want to go through again,” she agreed, then moved over to the bed to take Sam’s hand. “I was so damn worried about you.”

Dean came around to the foot of the bed where he could see his brother. “Yeah, even on the ransom call when I demanded to talk to her, it was “I’m okay – how’s Sam?” he grinned. “And you guys have matching black eyes. Somebody needs to take a picture of this.”

“Gotcha covered,” Donna piped up, grabbing her phone. “Get down there next to him, girl, we have to capture this for posterity.”

“Just what a woman wants to do after getting shanghaied and spending the night in the hospital – get her picture taken,” Jordan sighed, rolling her eyes, but she bent down next to Sam so Donna could capture the moment, laughing as Sam whispered some funny comment in her ear. Donna held out her phone with a triumphant grin.

“It’s a keeper!”

Jordan sat next to Dean on the way home, drowsy and content with his arm around her. She looked up at him, confused, when they pulled up in front of her apartment building. “We’re not going to your place?”

Dean hesitated a moment, then turned to look at her. “Doc said nothing strenuous, lots of rest. I just thought it’d be better if you were in your own bed, and we wouldn’t be – you know – trying to do strenuous stuff.”

She giggled, shoving at his shoulder. “It’s okay, you need to get some sleep, too.”

“Yeah, and – Donna and I have a lot of statements to take the next couple of days, and paperwork to do. We’ll have to get your statement at some point, but not until you’re rested up.” He leaned in close and kissed her tenderly. “C’mon, I’ll walk you up.”

He hung around the apartment, chatting with Donna until Jordan had showered and got ready for bed, going in to kiss her goodnight before he left. It didn’t take her long to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was late evening when Dean and Donna came home the next night, and Jordan sensed tension between them as soon as they walked through the door. It had been a long couple of days, and everyone was bound to be on edge, so she didn’t ask what was going on.

“Want a beer?” she asked, and Donna shot her a tired smile.

“Not me. I’m heading for the shower and my bed, it’s been a long day.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I should head out, too. Donna, we’ll talk about this later.”

She looked up at him, her voice sharp. “I’ll walk you out,” she said, and Jordan bit her lip nervously.

“Guess I’ll get ready for bed,” she said softly. “G’night, you two.” Dean was not acting normal at all, and Donna was pissed, and she suddenly wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” Dean said softly, and Jordan nodded, noting the death glare Donna was aiming his way. The obviously feuding partners headed for the door, and Jordan walked towards her room, her stomach in knots.

She had barely walked into her bedroom when she remembered she had wanted to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, so she turned and headed back that way. She closed the fridge and heard Donna’s voice raise just enough that she could hear, wishing she had stayed in her room but unable to make her feet move.

“Dean, you know how I feel. I don’t like it at all, you blindsided me with this. You have to talk to Jordan.”

“I know! I will, I just – I have to… there’s just some shit I have to figure out, think about. I didn’t plan for this to happen, at least not this soon. Not right after… I mean, really, we haven’t been together that long, but…”

“Well, you’d better figure it out, and fast. I’m not good at hiding things. And I shouldn’t have to. I wish you hadn’t even told me.”

“I’m sorry! I had to fucking talk to somebody, and I thought maybe my partner wouldn’t be such a dick about it!”

Now Dean sounded pissed, and Jordan felt sick. She rushed back to her room, afraid Donna would come back into the apartment and see her standing there. Her hands were shaking, her head spinning, memories of Darrel’s demeaning and belittling comments echoing through her mind. She crawled into her bed, curled into a ball, trying to ignore them, but they wouldn’t leave her alone. All the old insecurity she had worked so hard to recover from came flooding back, overwhelming her. It hadn’t taken Dean long to get tired of her, apparently. And Donna was upset with him because he wasn’t talking to her about it. How could she think he actually wanted more with her than a casual fling?

She hadn’t felt this small since the end of her relationship with Darrel, and she finally fell asleep, exhausted, dark thoughts haunting her through the restless night.

Jordan stayed in bed the next morning until Donna left, not wanting to see anyone. She moved through her day in a daze, unable to focus on anything but her misery. She was in love with Dean, but something had happened to change his feelings towards her. Maybe last night hadn’t been about the doctor’s orders at all. Maybe it was just the first step in distancing himself from her. And even worse, if they weren’t going to be together, how could they possibly get back to the warm, easy friendship they’d had before? Everything was such a mess, she was a mess, and there was nothing she could do to fix it.

Late that afternoon, there was a soft knock at the door before she heard the key in the lock. Dean peeked his head in, seeing her sitting there, and came in, alone. He looked nervous, and she felt that sick, hollow feeling in her stomach again, dreading what was coming.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Where’s Donna?”

“She’s at Doug’s. Wanted to give us some time to talk.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He came to the couch, sitting down and rubbing the back of his neck before turning his body towards her. He glanced at her before he started talking, then kept his eyes in his lap, his hands fidgeting and rubbing over his thigh occasionally as the words tumbled out. “So, I’ve been kinda messed up for the last few months – I mean, you know that. When I went to South Dakota, when I met you, I was… I didn’t know if I wanted to come back to work, back to Kansas City. Anyway, while I was there, working on my car, I needed a part, and I found this little repair and body shop there. The old guy that owns it was pretty cool, we got to talking, and I told him how I grew up in Kansas working at my uncle’s body shop. He got me a beer and we just sat there and shot the shit for a couple of hours, it was the most I’d talked to anybody for a long time. When I got ready to leave, he said, ‘Dean, I’m gonna give up and retire one of these days. I’d sure like it if somebody like you would buy this place and run it like it should be run.’ Well, I told him, sure, give me a call when you do that, and I’ll see where I’m at.”

He looked up at Jordan again, then back down before continuing. “Well, he called me yesterday. And if we hadn’t just wrapped up the whole mess behind that shooting, I don’t know if I would even think about it. But – I’m burned out. I don’t love my job anymore. I really think I want out. Donna’s pissed at me, feels like I’m abandoning her or something, but – I can’t do this job if my heart and my head aren’t in it. I can cash in my pension and buy that shop, do something I used to dream about when I was a kid working for my uncle. Live in a place where you can walk down the street without worrying about getting mugged. Watch some sunsets, see what real peace and quiet feels like.”

Jordan was struggling not to cry, but her tears were winning, rolling silently down her face, and as she sniffed softly, Dean raised his head to look at her. “So - you’re leaving.” He stared at her, a stricken expression on his face at her obvious distress, his mouth open to speak, but she went on. “I mean, I get it, you’re not happy, and you don’t feel about me the same way I feel about you. I mean, Darrel always said I wasn’t enough to keep a man for long, I should have seen it coming. I should have stayed away from you in the first place.” She started to rise from the couch, but Dean reached out and stopped her with a firm grip on her arm.

“Whoa! Hey, where is this coming from? No – just... Baby, no… God, I fucked this up.” He shook his head. “Damn it, Jordan, I don’t want to leave you. I’m not leaving you. I want you to come with me. But we haven’t been together for that long, and you just got to KC, and I didn’t want you to feel like I was pushing you too fast...” He moved closer, his hands cradling her face. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I had no idea you thought that’s what was happening.”

“I heard you and Donna last night, I thought you were sick of me, I thought you wanted to leave me, and I thought that’s why Donna was mad at you, and all I could think about was the shit that Darrel used to say to me...” Dean pulled her into his arms, holding her tight and soothing her until she quieted down. Then he took her by the shoulders and moved her back, taking her face in his hands and kissing her gently.

“If it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna erase what that asshole did to you, I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my fucking life. None of it is true. You hear me? And I’m not leaving you. If you really want to stay here, I will work through my bullshit and stay. But if you want to come with me – I told Earl I’d call him back tomorrow, let him know. I know that’s not much time, but...”

After a moment of thoughtful silence, she responded, “So, maybe I could still work for Sam, from home?”

“I’m sure you could. We can talk to him, we can go to the hospital so you can discuss it with him, if you want.”

“And we could go to Molly’s for bacon cheeseburgers and pancakes...”

“And frosty mugs of beer. Yeah. And I thought we could maybe buy a little house, and you could come and have lunch with me at the shop sometimes.” He kissed her nose, then her lips, and a smirk slowly curved his lips. “And maybe I could come home for lunch sometimes, but not for lunch, ya know?”

Jordan blushed, looking up at him from under her damp lashes. “You could.” He kissed her again, lingering over her lips, and she let out a little sigh, melting against him. Her arms slipped around his waist, handfuls of his shirt in her fists as his tongue touched her lips, then slipped between them with a moan.

“Maybe I should stop,” he mumbled reluctantly, barely parting from her lips as he spoke, and she tightened her grip around him with a little whimper.

“Dean… it’s been two days, I’m fine, and I need you...”

He groaned, kissing her again, hard, before stopping to look into her eyes. “Are you sure? That you’re ready? Your head...”

“Please, Dean, I promise, I’m fine.” She slipped her hands underneath his shirt, moving them up his back and dragging her nails gently over his skin. “I need you to hold me, I need to feel you inside me...” She brushed her lips along his jaw line, then down to his pulse point, sucking gently at his skin, and he swore, letting her push him down. She stretched out, her body full length over his, grinding against his erection, her lips crashing down on his again. His hands gripped her ass, his hips rising up to meet her as she moaned into their kiss. She finally raised her head, panting for air, her eyes dark with want. “Maybe we should go to my room… in case Donna...”

Dean nodded, and she climbed off of him, heading to her room with him hot on her heels. He was halfway undressed by the time he reached the room, dropping his clothes in a pile before stretching out on the bed, lazily stroking his cock with one hand as he watched Jordan strip down. “C’mere, sweetheart...” he urged, and she climbed onto the bed, settling over top of him again and raising up to let him guide himself to her entrance. She wasted no time, impaling herself on him slowly, her eyes closing and head thrown back as she took him in fully, her thighs trembling beneath Dean’s hands.

“Feels so good, baby...”

She didn’t move, the sensation of him pressing into the deepest part of her making it hard to breathe, so delicious that she wanted it to last forever. Her hands fell on top of his, clutching, her eyes finally opening to meet his heated gaze. “Dean…” she whined softly, and he shuddered as she clenched around him.

“Whatever you need, sweetheart, just tell me,” he said softly, his hands gently kneading at her thighs.

“Hold me.” He raised up slowly, gathering her close against his chest, fingers trailing over her back as he dropped hungry little kisses on her lips. After a few moments, he laid back, pulling her with him, his lips ravenous on hers as she began to move her hips. She was completely lost in him, the wanton sounds muffled by their kisses making him crazy, and he clutched her tightly to his chest, wanting to feel every inch of her against him.

It was delicious torture, the slow grinding of their bodies together, and Jordan pushed herself up with a soft cry as she neared her orgasm, her nails digging into Dean’s shoulders. He slipped his hands beneath her, squeezing at her breasts before giving her nipples a gentle twist, clenching his teeth as she came, grinding down hard on top of him and quivering around his aching cock.

She dropped down, her heart pounding against his chest, and he stroked his hands over her back, soothing her with gentle whispers and kisses to her forehead. She finally tipped her head back to look into his face, an endorphin-drunk smile on her lips. “Are you good?”

“So good,” she answered with a sigh.

“No headache?”

“Dean, I’m okay. Stop worrying.”

He grinned. “Okay, but I’m taking over from here.” She raised her eyebrows at him, then let out a surprised little cry and pouted when he pulled her off of him, and he laughed as he flipped her to her back on the bed beside him. Before she could say anything, he was snugged up between her thighs and slipping back inside her, his lips silencing her pretended protests. “So, you got a problem with that?” he teased, his lips brushing over hers, and she smiled, arching up a little beneath him.

“No problems here. None.”

He tilted his hips a little, making Jordan’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, and bent to take a nipple into his mouth. She sighed, head thrown back, blissfully enjoying the waves of pleasure washing through her. Dean began to move, slowly at first, shifting his attention to her other breast with a moan as she shifted her hips to meet him. As he began to thrust faster and harder, he raised his head to look down at her, watching her expressions as he drove them higher. She opened her eyes, staring up at him with such heat in her gaze that he let out a growl, capturing her lips in a ravenous kiss, swallowing her cry as she began to come undone. “Let go, sweetheart, I’m right there with you,” he managed to say, burying his head in the slope of her shoulder as he came, everything inside him white hot and throbbing in time with his pounding heart. Jordan was still letting out soft little whimpers when he regained his senses, finally going quiet after a long shudder.

They laid quiet in each others’ arms for a time, neither of them wanting to move. Dean finally shifted himself over, laying on his side next to her, and she turned towards him, a contented little smile on her face, her eyes shining as she looked at him. He let his fingers trail over her cheek, ducking his head a little with a shy smile. “What?” she asked softly, taking hold of his hand. He shook his head with a small shrug of his shoulders, his eyes still averted.

“I don’t know. Just – the way you look at me. Makes me feel like I should, I don’t know, do something amazing for you.”

She laughed softly. “You mean like asking me to run away to South Dakota with you?”

His crooked smile grew, and he looked back into her eyes again. “No, I mean something really big. Rope the moon, slay a dragon, you know – big.”

“You wanna be my hero?”

He huffed out a laugh, blushing a bit. “Yeah. Maybe I do.”

She raised her hand to his face with a soft smile. “Well, you already are.”

“C’mere, you,” he whispered, pulling her close, kissing her with all the emotion he couldn’t express in words. After several minutes, he moved away slightly, a finger beneath Jordan’s chin to tip her head back so he could look into her eyes. “So – what do you say, should we call Earl?”

She grinned, nodding. “Yeah. Let’s call Earl.”

Jordan parked in front of the shop and smiled up at the newly edited sign. Where it used to say Earl’s, now it read ‘Dean’s Body and Repair.” It had been three months since they had moved to South Dakota, bought a nice little three-bedroom ranch with a fenced-in yard and settled in. Dean’s business had taken right off, Earl’s loyal customers staying with him thanks to Earl’s glowing endorsement, and seeing him relaxed, happy and enjoying his work made her heart smile.

It was Friday night, closing time, and Jordan glanced around, making sure no one was around to stop her for a chat when she got out of the car. The coast was clear, so she headed into the shop, turning to lock the door behind her with a smile.

Her heels clacked against the concrete floor as she made her way back into the depths of the shop, her short skirt swinging with each step. Dean was just reaching for a shop towel after washing his hands, his coveralls down around his waist, and she felt that little clutch in her belly that she always got at the sight of his shoulders, bared in the tank top he was wearing. His eyebrows raised with surprise as she approached him, his eyes roaming over her. “Hi.”

“Are you the mechanic I’ve been hearing about?”

Dean��s lips twitched as he smothered his grin. “I’m the mechanic here, yeah.”

“I was told that you’re the best body man around.”

He tilted his head back, his eyes narrowing a little. “You were told?”

She shrugged. “I hear things. I came to see for myself.”

“Okay. So – what kind of work do you need done?”

She walked slowly over towards the Impala, which was sitting in the nearest stall where it was parked after an oil change. Dean watched the sway of her skirt, swallowing hard as she twirled to lean her back against the gleaming fender. “I was hoping that you could just check things over for me, see if I need anything – touched up.” She put her arms out to her sides, hands on the car, trying not to smile as Dean’s eyes were pulled to her cleavage. “Also, I think I might have a problem with my – intake manifold? Is that what you call it? I was told that you have the perfect tool for that kind of work.”

Dean cleared his throat a little. “So, what kind of car do you drive?”

Jordan smiled. “Oh, I’m not talking about my car.”

A smirk was beginning to curve his lips as he walked towards her, stopping in front of her to look up and down her body, slow and deliberate. “Well, from what I can see, your chassis is in perfect condition. But I’d have to get hands-on to be sure.”

“That’s the idea.” Her voice sounded breathless, catching just a bit as his hand touched her thigh, slipping beneath the hem of her skirt.

“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you? That short little skirt, and no panties?”

His fingers were trailing over her hip, squeezing at her ass and then sneaking around to explore between her thighs as she struggled to speak. “I wanted to make you happy.”

She bit at her lip as he stroked his fingers over her, teasing at her clit. “Oh, I’m more than happy,” he said, his voice gravelly with lust. He brought his fingers up to his lips, sucking her flavor from them before reaching for the buttons of her low-cut blouse. “Fuck,” he growled as he opened it to see the red satin and lace bra beneath, and she moved her arms to let her top fall to the floor. “You locked the door, right?”

She nodded, unable to form words at the moment, the heat of his gaze and his touch rendering her speechless. She braced her hands against the Impala again as his fingers traced the edge of her bra, caressing the rounded flesh above the fabric, then tugging the cups down and bending to drag his tongue over a nipple. She let out a soft whine, and then his large hands grasped her by the waist and set her up on the fender before he reached behind her back and unfastened her bra, tossing it out of the way and attacking her breasts in earnest.

Finally he laid her back on the car, staring down at her, his hands roaming over her body as she squirmed, every nerve electrified at his touch. “So fucking beautiful,” he growled, moving to flip her skirt up and pull her legs over his shoulders, bending to bury his face in her pussy with a moan. Already on fire, within moments she was thrashing underneath him, her heels flying from her feet as she shouted his name, coming hard as he drove her over the edge.

Once Jordan had calmed, Dean stood and dragged his forearm over his face, then reached for her waist, lifting her from the car and setting her to her feet. Legs wobbling, she leaned against the fender, watching as Dean, his eyes never leaving her, shoved his coveralls down and unfastened his jeans. He pulled her close again, walking her to the back of the Impala before shoving all his clothing down to his knees and spinning her to face the car. He wrapped one arm around her chest, his fingers kneading at her breast as his other hand covered her sex, holding her tight as he nipped at her neck. “You know what happens when you strut in here in your high heels and short little skirt with no underwear, naughty girl?” he rumbled in her ear, and she shook her head, trembling in his hold. “You get bent over my car and fucked.” At his last word, he plunged two fingers inside her, startling a cry from her lips, his arm around her the only reason she was still on her feet. After a few well-aimed strokes, he pulled his hand free from between her thighs and pushed her forward over the trunk, growling, “Hands on the car, and don’t move.”

After he had arranged her to his liking, moving her legs farther apart and pulling her hips towards him, he lined himself up, one hand on her back to keep her in place as he slowly penetrated her, pressing forward until he was balls-deep and she was whimpering beneath him. “You okay, baby?” he asked softly, waiting for her to nod before he moved, a tiny shift of his hips that made her moan. “If you liked that, just wait.” He pulled back, the slick drag against his sensitive cock making him hiss in a breath, teeth clenched. He pushed forward again with a soft growl, fighting for control for a moment before beginning a quickly increasing rhythm, his hands gripping Jordan’s hips to hold her in place. Each thrust forced a cry from her lips, incoherent begging and long, low moans of his name, spurring him on.

He felt his balls draw up tight, forcing a “Fuck!” from him as he began to flood her with his release, driving into her hard and fast. A moment later, she arched up with a broken shout of his name, her cunt seizing around him and making him swear again, shaking uncontrollably until she dropped to the shining surface of the Impala’s trunk, her breath coming in harsh sobs.

He let go of her, supporting himself with his hand against the car for a moment, waiting for his head to stop spinning. Jordan laid there beneath him, still panting, boneless and limp. Dean stood, pulling his pants up around his waist, and lifted her from the car and into his arms. He walked to his desk chair and sat with her in his lap, cradling her close against him. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, his hand smoothing over her back, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Jordan tilted her head back to look at him, a serene little smile on her face. “Hey.”

Dean chuckled softly. “You good?”

She sighed, snuggling back against his chest. “I’m amazing.”

“Fucking right, you are. What the hell got into you today, anyway?” He smiled down at her, hands still stroking over her silky skin. “Not that I’m complaining...”

She shrugged a little, a shy smile curving her lips. “Ever since the first day I met you, I had this fantasy of being manhandled and fucked by a really hot mechanic.”

He blushed a little, bending to kiss her, lingering over her lips for a few moments. “So, did you walk down here like that?”

Jordan giggled. “Ummmm… no. I know it’s only three blocks, but I could just see a little breeze kicking up and me walking bare-assed down the street. And besides, I was afraid Mrs. Murphy would want to stop me and talk about her cat.” Dean laughed, and she continued. “So no, my car is outside.”

“Well, good – I think maybe we’ll drive home together, I think I need to clean the Impala before I take her out. Somebody made kind of a mess on the trunk.”

“Not my fault.”

“Totally your fault.” He kissed her firmly as if to seal his winning of the argument. “So, how about we go home and shower, then hit Molly’s?”

“That is the second best offer I’ve had all day.” She reached her hand to his face, her eyes soft and searching. “You know, I was thinking. Everything that’s happened to us – if I hadn’t been running away from Darrel, and you hadn’t been trying to escape the shit in Kansas City – we never would have met each other. I think it was meant to be.”

“Oh, baby, definitely,” he said as she stretched up to kiss him again. “So – maybe we should try to find your clothes.”

“I have no idea where my shoes are. I think I kicked them off when you were eating me out like a wild man.”

Dean’s laugh echoed through the garage. “You can go home barefoot, I’ll find ‘em later. I don’t know about you, but I’m dying for a bacon cheeseburger.”

“Oh, God, yes. And a beer.”

He wrapped his arms around her for one more squeeze. “Yep. Definitely meant to be.”

#meant to be #chapter 9 #dean fic #dean smut #dean x oc #dean x jordan

32 notes · View notes

headinthestaticsky · 3 years ago

Text

The Phenomenon of the Immortal Sun: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 3

None of the characters in Twilight belong to be, all rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick."

Lovesick by, BANKS.

The reception looked absolutely beautiful It seemed every inch of it was covered in decorations.

"I have to admit, Alice and Rosalie know what they're doing," Jasper said.

"They even made the cake look appetizing to me... not enough for me to stomach to eat it but still," I replied, ever since I had become a vampire, human food made me sick.

"They've done their job then," Jasper said a smile was still etched on his face.

We began to sway to the music, I melted into him.

"Please call me your baby, baby Look how long that you have kept me waiting I'm all in, look at all that I have given Oh, I know your love before I kissed you And now you have only made me miss you Come get me Come love me, baby come love me."

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick."

"I just wish Bree could be out here with the rest of us..."

"I wish she could too, but even if she wasn't presumed dead...being around all the humans wouldn't be good for her," Jasper explained comfortingly.

"I know." I pecked Jasper's cheek.

"Please call me your baby baby baby Look how long that you have kept me waiting I'm all in, look at all that I have given Oh, I know your love before I kissed you And now you have only made me miss you Come get me Come love me, baby come love me."

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick.'

"Are you going to tell me where we're going or is it going to be a surprise still." I inquired.

"Patience my love, good things come to those who wait." He teased, biting my lip.

I whined

"I don't wanna wait..."

'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick

'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick

We broke apart from our loving embrace when the song ended. I scanned the crowd searching to see if I could find Leah and Seth again, when I did I dragged Jasper with me eager to see them.

"Hi, I'm so glad you guys made it!" I greeted them and pulling them both in for a hug.

"Good to see you Fleur, you look beautiful." Leah said, Seth nodded in agreement. I saw Billy Black and Sue standing behind them. I walked up to them and hugged them too.

"I hope you'll be happy Fleur...I wish you both the best." Billy said with a somber tone.

"Thank you."

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you but I plan on getting drunk. Sue, could I interest you in a glass of Champaign?" Dad asked.

Before Sue could speak Billy interrupted them.

"Sparkling fire water. Sounds great." Billy said, almost running over dad's ankles." They all walked away.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to get together?" I asked Jasper.

"I give them a month or 2." Jasper estimated. Two unfamiliar voices greeted us both.

"Fleur, Jasper! Congratulations!" A woman greeted.

"Thank you." Jasper replied.

Two gorgeous vampires greeted us, one male and one female.

"Hi, Umm... Eleazar and Carmen, right?" I guessed.

"Mhm, Hola!" Carmen said.

I then saw three blonde women standing behind them, observing us. Jasper saw me looking at them and answered the thought bubbling in my head.

"Those these are our cousins from Alaska. Tanya, Kate, and Irina."

"We've heard so much about you. I'm Tanya." She greeted sticking out her hand for me to shake it.

"Welcome to the family. Bienvenida." Eleazar added.

"Thank you. You're very welcoming." I said.

"Irina, Come meet Fleur." Carmen called out to her.

I could tell something was troubling Irina and I followed to where her gaze was fixated at. She was looking at Seth, anger was in her eyes.

"I can't do this..." She grumbled.

"You promised," Tanya hissed at her.

"She invited one of them."

Jasper looked to where she was gesturing to and sighed.

"Irina, he's one of our friends."

"They killed Laurent!" She rebutted back

"He tried to kill my sister and I." I explained.

"I don't believe that." She said, getting in my face.

"I suggest you back away now... we don't need to cause a scene." I grumbled getting even closer to her face.

She backed away and left, stomping away.

"I'm sorry you guys, thank for coming." I said, a guilty look made it's way onto my face.

"No no don't worry about it..." Carmen comforted.

"Well. Let's not monopolize the bride. Congratulations." Eleazar said. Walking away with Carmen

"Thank you."

"We're sorry." Tanya said, her and Kate walked away as well.

"Well.. what's a wedding without a little family drama huh?" I asked playfully.

"C'mon you let's go, speeches are starting." Jasper said, pulling me in the direction of the chairs.

"Excuse me. Is this on? Hello?" I heard Rosalie whistle at Emmett.

"Umm, I'd like to propose a toast. To my new sister. Fleur, I hope you've gotten enough sleep these last 19 years. 'Cause you won't be getting any more for a while." Emmett laughed and winked at me.

My mouth was slightly agape and I breathed out a laugh. I turned and saw my dad who downed his glass of champagne. My mother just rolled her eyes and repeated what my father had done. I saw Leah stand up and go over to the stage.

"Fleur... I've known you for as long as I could remember. Some of my favorite memories were with you on that beach. And the reaction you would give every time I would shove you into the freezing cold water."

Everyone in the crowd laughed.

"I know I haven't always been the nicest to you, after my father died I completely blew you off.... I know I treated you coldly. But you still were kind and gracious to me and my brother Seth. So thank you... for always being there for me even when I wasn't there for you. Jasper, you better take care of her, you have a whole lot of people who are willing to hunt you down." Leah finished. Jasper gave her a nod and a smile, a silent promise in a way.

My dad stepped up next, I saw tears in his eyes and gave him a comforting smile.

"Jasper will be a good husband. I know this because I'm a cop. I know things. Like how to hunt somebody to the ends of the Earth... I also know how to shoot a gun. But I also know this because he's loyal and empathetic, and a wonderful influence on my daughter. He sniffled before continuing, I love you Fleur... and I'm so happy for you... for both of you."

"Now that you're my sister, you'll have to get over your version to fashion... Yes, you have some style but... the t-shirt and jeans have got to go... and those god-awful ankle boots have got to go too." Alice said.

"Never!" I jokingly yelled.

"Fleur, I remember when Jasper had come home saying he had finally met "the one." I was skeptical, scared even... my first instinct on you was to hate your guts and keep you away from my family. But then I got to know you and I saw how compassionate and understanding you were. I knew you wouldn't hurt my brother, who had been treated horribly for so long and deserved someone with the same amount of compassion as him. Thank you Fleur, welcome to the family. To Jasper and Fleur!" Rosalie finished raising a champagne glass.

"To Jasper and Fleur!" Everyone repeated.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, everyone was too distracted to notice none of the Cullen's and I had eaten or drunk anything. Soon enough after most of the cake was devoured it was time for us to go. I had to run to the bathroom since my contacts were beginning to dissolve in my eyes due to the venom. When I got back out I saw Alice and Rosalie putting Jasper and I's bags into my car. Before I could make it to my car dad approched me.

"Well... It's gonna be strange, you not living under my roof." He started.

"Yeah. It's gonna be strange for me, too." I replied.

"You know it will always be your home, right?"

I know dad, I love you. Forever. I pulled him in for a hug.

"I love you, too, Petal. I always have and I always will. All right. Go on. You don't wanna miss your plane. Wherever it's going."

"I won't dad... I should probably say bye to mom and Bella too..."

"Good luck Petal," Dad said, humor was in his voice. I sighed and walked my way over to them, they were embracing and saying goodbye to one another, since Bella was going on her honeymoon too.

"Oh, Bella... I will miss you so much, I love you." Renee said tearfully.

"I love you too mom, I will miss you too," Bella replied. They both stopped talking to one another when I approached them. Their faces dropped, it seemed I dampened the mood.

"Well, I'll see you later mom, Bella, have a good one." I said.

"Yes, I'll see you in nine months... I mean... later." Renee said condescendingly.

"Mother, even if I was pregnant I wouldn't let you near my child. They don't need your spews of toxicity around them." I spat out before walking away.

I hugged all of the Cullens before walking up to the car, I was about to get into the driver's seat when I threw the keys at Jasper. His face was in shock.

"Only because we got married, cowboy, it's a present from me to you."

"Thanks, Darlin." He smiled at me.

We began to drive off, I waved at the people in the crowd and smiled at them.

"Ready to go?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah...I'm ready."

#jasper whitlock x oc #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper hale x oc #carlisle cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #alice cullen #edward cullen #twilight saga #bella swan #twilight

35 notes · View notes

emma-nation · 3 years ago

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

52 notes · View notes

dorindameddler · 3 years ago

Text

a braving light in a world so dark: a georgie/melanie playlist (spotify)

1. first love/late spring - mitski // 2. unforgiving girl (she's not an) - car seat headrest // 3. strange girl - laura marling // 4. reach out - sleater-kinney // 5. safe tonight - bat for lashes // 6. crying in public - chairlift // 7. don't delete the kisses - wolf alice // 8. it's not just me - let's eat grandma // 9. sick of spiraling - bachelor // 10. shut up kiss me - angel olsen // 11. marauders - thao & the get down stay down // 12. half colored hair - black belt eagle scout // 13. stay with me - margaret glaspy // 14. don't go puttin wishes in my head - torres // 15. walk with you - oceanator

selection of lyrics under the cut

first love/late spring

Wild women don't get the blues/But I find that lately, I've been crying like a tall child/So please, hurry, leave me, I can't breathe/Please don't say you love me/Mune ga hachikire-sōde/One word from you and I would/Jump off of this ledge I'm on, baby/Tell me, "Don't," so I can crawl back in

unforgiving girl (she's not an)

Well, everyone learns to live with themselves/And you're not the only one who's been through hell/So give me a sign that I'm not making love to myself/It's an unforgiving world/But she's not an unforgiving girl

strange girl

Woke up in a country who refused to hold your hand/Kept falling for narcissists who insist you call them 'man'/You work late for a job you hate that's never fit the plan/Stay low, keep brave/I love you, my strange girl/My lonely girl/My angry girl/My brave

reach out

Reach out, touch me, I'm stuck on the edge/Reach out, darkness is winning again/Reach out and see me, I'm losing my head/Reach out, I can't fight without you, my friend

safe tonight

Lying in the dark and I am out of time/There's a demon in my heart that I'm not sure we’ll survive/The shadows come around one too many times/Baby, I need you to tell me I'm safe tonight

crying in public

Take all my defenses in two words/And throw them away/ Tell me, what kind of monster/Have I been today?/But you smile and call me “tough guy”/To the opposite effect/It's a flower in the gun/And your tough guy's a wreck/Sorry I'm crying in public this way/I'm falling for you, I'm falling for you/I'm sorry I'm causing a scene on the train/I'm falling for you, I'm falling for you

don't delete the kisses

What if it's not meant for me?/Love/What if it's not meant for me?/Love/A few days pass since I last saw you/And you've taken over my mind/I'm retelling jokes you made that made me laugh/Pretending that they're mine/I wanna tell the whole world about you/I think that that's a sign/I'm losing self-control and it's you

it's not just me

Because the point is that I see it's not just me/The point is that you feel my company/You know I'll never be too far if you're looking for somebody/I'm here/It's not just me/I know you're feeling the same way/And I can't fail to believe/When you're feeling the same way/It's not just me

sick of spiraling

Walking alone at night/Clutching a cheap gas station knife/Love, the danger is in the car/Who couldn't see me it was too dark/As the brakes slam to the floor/Missing me just inches short/I thought, "If I can't have my own back/How the fuck can I have yours?"/You are a braving light in a world so dark/And I'm sick of spiraling out and I need your touch to stop/You are a braving light in a world so dark/And I'm scared out of my mind and I need your love

shut up kiss me

I could make it all go away/Tell me what you’re thinking, don't delay/We could still be having some sweet memories/This heart still beats for you, why can't you see?/Shut up, kiss me, hold me tight/Shut up, kiss me, hold me tight/Stop your crying, it's alright/Shut up, kiss me, hold me tight

marauders

My darlin', your patience, rain it on me/I know daughters of marauders are just so hard to please/I got that poison, carve it on out/Barely served me then/Only hurts me now/But you look like I could stay/Let all my intentions fall away/Kill all my defenses where they lay/Say all that's left to say

half colored hair

How you look at me/In the brightness of your room/Imagine the lightness of my fingers on your face/Run through your hair/Across your neck/Light breaks across your room/I never knew I'd like half colored hair so much/But in the light

stay with me

I've had nothing but trouble/And bad news on the line for such a long time/The only break I get is laughing 'tiI my eyes are wet/With you, you/Won't you stay with me?/I'll be on my best behavior/When it all shakes down—/Who's the clown, and who's the savior?

don't go puttin wishes in my head

I know promising forever's not your thing/But now if you don't want me to go dreaming/Don't spend your mornings and your evenings in my bed/If you don't want me believing that/You're never gonna leave me, darling/Don't go putting wishes in my head/So if we're calling off the funeral/Then I'm calling for a hitching/For a while, I was sinking/But from here on out, I swear I'm swimming

walk with you

When you were depressed and/You put your head on my chest and you told me/That you were tired of being tough/I took you by the hand and/Told you I understand and you told me/That could never be enough/But I will walk with you down the avenue though the streets are made of glass/And we will tread lightly on our heavy feet and avoid all of the cracks/It's a fragile place that we've ended in and one wrong move could shatter/But in the end will it matter?

#georgie barker #melanie king #wtgfs #tma playlist #the magnus archives

22 notes · View notes

spideymarvelws · 4 years ago

Text

one true love.

Dark!Peter Parker x Dark!GN!Reader

Main Masterlist

Summary : Peter will go threw everything to keep you safe, protected and most importantly always his. He saw you as the person he observed and watched for the past few months, the sweet, kind girl that stopped to pet stray dogs or smiled at everyone who needed it. But somethings he never took notice of, some things that would’ve made him love you even more.

Warnings : THIS IS A DARK FIC! I am not responsible for your media consumption but if any of these topics or just dark fics on a whole trigger you please do not read! cursing, murders, blood, violence, mention of sexual assault, death, stalking, graphic description of a dead body, homicide, fluffy if you squint, use of guns and knifes.

A/n : If any description throughout the one shot does not pertain to a gender neutral reader please let me know :-) also if i missed anything in the warnings.

Word Count : 1.8k

...

The definition of love is something that never stays constant as its experienced from person to person. Even to that very being, the meaning changes every year, month, day even hour, from what that individual may feel in that moment. In some cases, it may be the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to someone, changing there life in ways they could never even imagine.

In other cases, it could break a person whole, bit by bit, tearing down at who they once were. Emotions like guilt and regret, jealously and remorse running through there veins, thinking that love is only made to destroy the ones foolish enough to believe it exists.

Then you have the rare case of love at first sight.

Now, some may argue that this concept that only seems to show up in movies and TV shows is complete bullshit, that it doesn’t exist.

“You can’t look at someone and automatically know they’re the one for you,” Ned said to him one day, pulling his head out of his chemistry book,“What if they’re an awful person? What if they do something constantly that you don’t like? Seriously, looking at someone and knowing there the one is just basing It of there’s looks or something,”

Peter didn’t respond, afraid that he might lash out at the only friend he’s managed to keep throughout the years. He thought about the last statement a lot, wondering if all he ever really felt was the physical attraction.

But no, that pull you feel when you look at someone for the fist time, watching there movements with whatever tasks they’re doing at the moment, even if it’s nothing at all. Falling entranced with there every gesture, taking in every curve and colour, memorising every feature.

It wasn’t just looking at their appearance, it was taking note of how they moved, how they acted, how they laughed, god there laugh is like music to your ears. It was watching and observing, that’s what Ned missed in his little speech.

Then of course you have the people who don’t believe in love, which was something he could understand.

Before he saw you.

For Peter, love was not a strong enough word to describe what he felt for his one true love. The way you made his heart stop with one smile, his face red with one touch, his hands sweat with one word. In your eyes, he found his entire world.

And he destined for you to be his.

The countess nights he spent dreaming of you, laying besides him. He longed to touch you, to feel your skin against his, to mark you with his love. He shocked himself with the self control he had to maintain around you especially when it came to the people you hung out with.

The amount of times he wanted to run out of hiding and crack the skull of some idiot who decided to talk to you or dare even look at you in any suggestive matter. The thought make him gag every time, but he’d like to think that you already knew that he was looking over you, that you belonged to him. That’s why you never took any of them on, that’s why you turned them down.

He couldn’t blame them for trying, but they had no chance since they would be gone the next day.

Which is why he hoped you could forgive him for what he did, for what he had to do.

The body laid in the back seat, wrapped tightly in a bag. There was no blood spilled, sadly, only the indents of his hands on the base of his neck.

It was fun, watching the life drain from his eyes as he listed off every bad thing he’s ever done, mainly to you, but he threw in a few more ex’s just to spice things up a bit more. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed him, maybe he should’ve just let him walk free with the threats he shoved down his throat.

But then he had to call you a bitch, from that point he knew his life would just be a waste of oxygen.

Peter let out a chuckle at the memory, at the fake confidence he showed, struggling in his hold. It truly was a sight to behold, one that made his realise why he enjoyed being Spiderman so much.

Seeing people suffer for there terrible mistakes and knowing that he had the power to punish them.

The drive was long and quiet, one of his hands was on top the steering wheel, tapping to an imaginary beat while the other settled on the arm rest. The streets were rather empty at this hour to Peter’s surprise, making him smirk that he would get away with the murder.

Maybe he could’ve stolen a better car.

But he was doing everyone a favour and he was keeping you safe.

He took a right into a dense forest, his car moving with with the bumps on the course road. When he felt like he was deep enough down the path, he hit the breaks, cringing at the squeaking noise it made.

Regardless, the exited the vehicle, opening the trunk to grab a shovel. He knew that there were a number of more efficient ways to get rid of the body, one that could’ve used his position in the avengers to his advantage, but his old techniques started to grow repetitive.

It didn’t take him as long as he thought though, the hole he dug was around eight feet deep and hopefully the right size to fit the body. Dropping the shovel to the floor, he walked back to the car not to worried about his surroundings knowing that no one ever visited this part of the forest.

He grabbed the body from the back seat, throwing it over his shoulder carrying it to the hole and tossing it inside without care. He smiled at the bag as he filled the hole a quarter of the way.

“Time to find an animal now shall we?” He whispered to himself, pulling out the hunters knife from the back of his pants along with a flash light, “Just incase,”

As he walked threw the trees and bushes, keeping look out for any movements he heard a gun shot cut threw the air. He gripped his knife, walking carefully towards the noise.

Oh how he was sorry for the poor lad that decided to be here this night, but he had too do what had to be done.

Suddenly he was sent back by a force jumping on his back. He fell to the floor with a thud, his body forcefully turned over with a gun pointed directly between his eyes.

“Y/n?” He froze, his breath becoming heavier at how close your face was to his. Now he understood why his spider senses didn’t alert him, because you weren’t a threat to him, you could never be.

“Peter,” you whispered, lowering your gun, scrambling off of his body much to his dismay, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” He asked back, still shocked at you proximity to him, talking with him, breathing the same air as him.

“You answer first,” you said quickly.

“No you,” Peter said back, crossing his arms.

“I-,” you started, but looked down, trying to hide your bashfulness, but it only drew attention to the blood dripping from your hair.

“Baby,” Peter whispered, walking up to you to grab your face, any sense of self control left his body after seeing the state you were in, “What happened,”

Peter thought it was some attack on you and judging by the amount of blood covering your skin, you had to defend yourself. He expected you to look up with the innocent eyes he’s studied for so long, finally getting a chance to get a closer look.

But instead, you raised your head with a sinister smile gracing your feature, you stepped out of his embrace, taking his hand in yours.

“Let me show you,” you whispered, in an almost sultry voice sending shivers down his spine.

You pulled him to a tree, taking the flashlight held in his fingers and pointed the light to the base of the trunk. Peter stared confused at the sight, walking forward slightly to inspect the slumped body. It was tied down tightly with rope around the waist and mouth, cutting threw the skin deeply showing signs of struggle. There was multiple stab wounds in the stomach, words carved in there legs that he couldn’t make out with the dirt and blood covering them. He did however notice his name on her forehead and the bullet wound in the middle.

The streaks of blond in the hair falling in front of the face told him that this body belonged to Gwen Stacy.

“When she started talking to you I could see how uncomfortable she made you,” you started, looking to the floor while playing with the dirt with the sole of your shoe, “I- I didn’t like how close she got to you, and- and since she bothered you too I- I thought we were doing us both a favour,”

Peter stood back up, looking back at you. He wondered how somebody so insane could hide it so well. Even with the evidence painted over you, he still saw you as incapable of ever doing anything like this.

The thought made him laugh loudly, walking up to you and grabbing your face.

“I fucking love you,” he laughed more, making you smile brightly as he put his forehead against yours, “You’re perfect I swear,”

You laughed along with him, putting away your gun in your pack pocket, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’ve- I’ve so long for this,” you giggled, pressing your nose into his neck, basking in his sick scent, “But, what are you doing here?”

Peter giggled as well, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “Same reason at you my love,”

Your eyes widened, you placed your hand on his cheek, bringing his lips back into yours. It was longer and sloppier than the first, both of you getting use to the movements but also desperate for the feeling.

Peter backed you up against another tree, pressing his body against yours, his deluded mind not reregistering how fucked up the situation was, but he loved every second. His lips moved down to your neck, sucking and bitting at the skin, drawing out delicious moans from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you sputtered, biting your lip and tangling your fingers in his hair, both of you not paying mind to the blood, sweat and dirt, “I’ve- I’ve wanted this for so long Peter,”

“Me too baby,” he said, tightening his hold on your waist, “Me too, now how about we hide these bodies together hmm?” He tickled your sides lightly, grinning at the giggle you let out, “Then I’m gonna take you home and make up for lost time,”

...

--->Interested in more? check out my other Dark!Peter fic<---

Hearts, reblogs and comments always appreciated 🥰

Taglist: @jadegill @joyleenl @ietss

#peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x gn!reader #dark!peter parker x dark!reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #yandere!peter parker

332 notes · View notes

hotchley · 3 years ago

Text

the waiting game

Lol, my laptop is at 2%. Look, I’ll be back in an hour to do my masterlist, I just really, really need to get this done because it should’ve been done many months ago.

It’s fine. Umm... yeah, nothing else to say :)

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, references to child abuse, death threats from a parent, bombings

read on ao3!

Jason Gideon always told new recruits that certain things about their jobs got easier with time and experience. He told them their hands would remain steady when they fired a gun and that the noise would not always make them flinch. He told them they would get used to late-night calls and sleepless nights. that they wouldn’t always find it so difficult when the people they loved walked away, unable to handle not knowing what was going to happen.

A lot of things about their job got easier.

The waiting game only got harder.

Because you learnt things

Gideon had been on the team longer than the other members put together. he knew what happened when each of his members ended up in the hospital. He’d made a point of taking Reid each time, just so he could be sure his order of events was correct.

Adrian Bale meant he’d had six less agents to remember.

That was supposed to have been the last time Aaron Hotchner ended up in the hospital, unconscious and barely breathing. Gideon had vowed to himself that no matter how difficult it was, Hotch would make it home to Haley and Jack every night.

But he’d failed.

Aaron hadn’t wanted Elle going home. he’d taken her to the same hotel Haley was in. Elle had felt a little uncomfortable being in the adjoining room, but her discomfort quickly faded. Haley seemed used to looking after Aaron’s second family and Jack was still willing to be held by strangers.

He’d swung by her place to make sure it was safe.

It hadn’t been, but he was the best shot in the BAU. No, not just the BAU, the entire Quantico building. He was so good that when he demanded that they passed Reid with flying colours, nobody questioned him.

There had been- in his words- a small scuffle but he was fine.

Everyone was too exhausted to argue or even notice. But Gideon knew he should’ve said something. He’d known Aaron Hotchner since he had been dragged in by David Rossi, somehow bright-eyed and cynical at the same time.

He should’ve known Aaron was more hurt than he was willing to let on. He always was. and he should have realised before he sent him into another building that contained an innocent civilian and somebody that they couldn’t really profile. Somebody that they couldn’t plan the endgame of.

It felt like Adrian Bale all over again.

Only everyone had known Aaron was going to survive the moment he pulled the oxygen mask off his face, demanded to know who was representing Bale in his trial before passing out again.

Now... none of that could be confirmed.

He hadn’t been able to stay conscious enough to ask for Haley.

“Tell me what happened,” he asked again. Morgan and Reid had refused the other six times he’d asked them. Six hours Hotch had been in the hospital. He still wasn’t awake.

“Gideon this isn’t going to help anyone, least of all you,” Morgan sighed.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“He was carrying Rebecca out of the building because it was on fire. Then he suddenly dropped her on the grass and keeled over, one hand pressed to his side. Morgan grabbed Rebecca, got her out. I tried to help Hotch, but he told me to run. And I did. And then the building exploded and-”

And that was when he’d got the phone call from Reid. Morgan had phoned the ambulance the moment Hotch fell. Reid had phoned Gideon, barely able to string two sentences together. It was as though his eidetic memory and IQ had just been taken from him.

Reid looked away, unable to say another word. His cheeks were stained with tears, his foot-tapping the only comfort he was able to provide himself.

“He wouldn’t have got hurt if I’d gone home,” Elle whispered.

“You can’t blame yourself,” JJ murmured, but she sounded distant. Like she was trying to stay in liaison mode but couldn’t. She hadn’t even been with the BAU for a year the last time Hotch had ended up in the hospital. She’d been terrified then. Now she just looked tired.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Gideon added, wishing he could see what was going on. But the door to the room Hotch was in had been closed, the curtains pulled around. “If you’d gone home, in the state you were in, you wouldn’t have won. It’d be you in there, and Hotch would be pacing outside blaming himself.” Besides, he thought to himself. The only person that should be blaming themselves was him. He was supposed to have Hotch’s back. He was the one that was supposed to be able to read all his tells without even having to try and profile him.

Hotch was still in surgery. In all the cases that had ended with Hotch landing himself in the hospital, the surgeries had been minor. When Adrian Bale had struck, he’d spent four hours in surgery. In Gideon’s opinion, the injuries sustained from that had been more serious.

Hotch had been in surgery for six and a half hours. That didn’t fit the pattern. It didn’t fit the pattern and Gideon knew this time that it wasn’t a good thing.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself either,” a soft voice said from behind them.

“Haley,” he whispered.

Haley gave them all a hesitant smile. It was clear she’d been sobbing and was only being held together by the thinnest thread. “How are you all holding up?”

The laugh Garcia let out was slightly hysterical. “Mrs Hotchner, we’re not important. You are. So is your husband. How are you doing?”

The corners of her mouth turned downwards. “I don’t feel like it’s hit me yet. I’ve known for a very long time there’s a chance he won’t come down and I’ve always prepared for that, but it just doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting him to walk out that door with his arm in a sling and a goofy smile because of the pain medication.”

“We’ll be here when it does hit. And we’ll help in any way we can,” JJ promised.

Haley nodded, shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I know. Aaron always said that he wasn’t afraid of dying. Not when he knew his team would be there to tell Jack stories and stop me from resenting the only piece of him that I would have left.”

“Where is the little one?” Morgan asked, both to lighten the mood and to change the subject. They’d never realized how much Hotch loved them all. How much he trusted them.

“With my sister. We didn’t- after Boston- oh my god, it’s just like Boston isn’t it? He’s going to, he won’t- I-” she whimpered, the dam finally breaking.

It was Garcia that reacted first. It was a stark contrast, Penelope’s brightness against the subdued pastels of Haley’s pajamas- and Gideon wanted to be sick, she must have been ready to go to sleep when she got the phone call- but it was needed.

When Garcia pulled away, not quite letting go, Haley wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, after Boston, we agreed that Jack- we hadn’t picked his name then, god it feels like yesterday, that we wouldn’t let him see us in the hospital. We wanted to let him believe his parents were invincible for as long as possible.”

Gideon knew that promise. he also knew that Hotch had promised to step down once Gideon returned. He had been selfish when he’d asked him not to.

“He’ll make it out,” Elle said.

She hadn’t witnessed Adrian Bale’s attack on Gideon. That’s how she was able to stay so positive. But everyone else had. They’d watched as twenty-two civilians had been taken hostage, as Hotch had gone into the building to try and negotiate with him, despite Gideon explicitly forbidding him to do so because Haley was waiting at home for him.

That was the one and only time Hotch’s anger had been directed at a member of the team. His eyes had darkened, his voice pitched lower than they’d ever heard it. He’d looked Gideon in the eye, no longer the scared recruit, and told him to go fuck himself.

He’d walked into the building. Without a vest. The only weapon being the gun in the holster that was attached to his belt. One of the hostages had been forced to take it from him. Aaron had given them the same encouraging smile he gave to all the victims they saved, to all the distraught family members that were scared of being the cause of their loved one’s end.

Adrian Bale had taken one look at him and laughed. That had thrown Hotch off. He had thought that seeing the lead profiler of the elite BAU team would make him sweat and give him what he wanted. He said as much.

Adrian Bale said that when he looked at Aaron Hotchner, he didn’t see the lead profiler or bad cop. He didn’t see the head of the Seattle field office or one of the best shots SWAT had ever seen. He didn’t even see the hotshot prosecutor he’d began as.

Aaron asked him what he did see.

Bale’s response haunted everyone. He said he saw a boy too afraid of his own feelings to ever truly love anyone. He said the only reason Hotch had walked in was because he was too much of a coward to leave his pregnant wife but if he died in the line of duty, well that was different. He said Aaron loved Jason Gideon and all he wanted was his approval.

The camera was grainy, but the tremble in Aaron’s hands was unmistakable.

Morgan had tried to run in. It was Gideon’s arm that had stopped in. It was Gideon that had said they needed to wait to get Hotch out. It was Gideon that had misread Aaron’s body language and sent six of his best agents in.

They didn’t need eidetic memories to have the look of complete fear on Gideon’s face when Hotch was blown away branded in their brain forever. Or the scream he’d released when they finally uncovered the body, the rise and fall of his chest barely noticeable. Or to remember how Haley had arrived two days later because of problems with flight bookings, face devoid of any colour, the swell of her stomach a stark reminder of everything that would be lost if Hotch didn’t pull through.

Elle Greenaway only knew SSA Hotchner: the man that stared down unsubs, barked orders at everyone, carried a back-up weapon because he was just that good and never smiled. She didn’t know him as Aaron, the man that hated hospitals so much that every time he regained consciousness, the doctors had been forced to sedate him for his own benefit. Or that the only person that had been able to touch him was Haley, his mouth trying to form her name but never making it past the first syllable, despite all his years of spinning stories to a jury.

Or that the only reason Hotch carried a back-up was because very few people would notice it was there. John Blackwolf had thrown him off, made him doubt again. Gideon had found it difficult to convince him everything was fine, so he didn’t. He just dropped him home to Haley and watched from his car as Hotch became Aaron, falling apart in Haley’s arms.

“I know,” Haley whispered, pulling Gideon from his memories.

“Would you like anything to drink? I can go and grab you a coffee if you want,” he said, needing to do something other than watch his team fall to pieces. Aaron was the one that sat and reminded them they were human, that it wasn’t their fault. It was the reason they would call him mom. Gideon was just there.

Haley shook her head. “I want you to be here. In case you’re needed.”

Because of course he would be. Haley Hotchner was Aaron’s wife, so she was automatically listed as his medical proxy. But Aaron never wanted her to be burdened by his job any more than she already was. Which meant if something happened in the field. the doctors were to automatically defer to Gideon. Haley was consulted if it was something non-case related.

“Of course,” he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Excuse me? Are you all here for Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes,” Haley said, the first to find their voice as the profilers tried to work out whether the news they were about to be given was good or bad.

“He’s out of surgery, there were no complications there and we’ve got him through the worst of it. But he’s still not woken up, and his breathing is shallow, hence the reason we haven’t taken him off the ventilator yet. So as much as we want to hope for the best, I want you to understand there is a chance he may not make it. His body has been put through a lot in the past year.”

Gideon did not want to think about every injury Hotch had been forced to suffer through since returning. The collar of his shirts had never quite hidden the bruised skin where Perotta had touched him.

“Can we see him?” Haley asked. She looked so young. So vulnerable. Gideon swallowed. She’d never been forced to hide her emotions the same way Hotch had. She’d never been afraid of being profiled. He doubted she ever had been, Hotch was too honourable.

“My colleagues are still treating him. I think it’d be better if we waited until he woke up. You should all get some rest, you look exhausted.”

Haley shook her head. “I’d like to be here.”

“Of course,” the doctor said, turning on their heel and walking away again.

“I’m just going to phone Jessica and ask her to keep Jack for a little longer,” she said, voice trembling.

Everyone nodded and chose not to comment when Haley vanished for ten minutes, returning with red-rimmed eyes.

“He trusted me to save his life when I hadn’t even passed my gun qualification,” Reid said suddenly.

“I know. He told me about that. He said he knew you could do it, that it would just take a bit of a patience and maybe an extremely stressful situation. Apparently, you do your best work under intense terror. Not that he wanted the two of you to end up hostages He also blamed himself when you didn’t pass. Thought he’d scared you so much when you were practicing that you got in your head and just forgot everything, even though that’s impossible,” Haley responded.

Reid’s head jerked up in response. “He actually said that to you?”

Haley nodded. “He tells me about all of you. He sees Sean- you met him didn’t you, yes you did- in you. You’re both young. Got the whole world to explore and yet you chose to do the one thing nobody expected.”

“I bet he always has bad stories about me,” Morgan teased.

“He trusts you. More than you think he does. And he wants you to trust him as well. He doesn’t listen when I say you do; you just show it in a different way. All you profilers show things in a different way. That’s what I’ve learnt. That there are some things you will never see the same way.”

“What does he say about me?” Elle asked, genuinely curious. She’d only met Haley in passing; the day they bought Jack in. And the time they’d spent in the hotel could hardly count.

“A lot. He’s scared this job is going to take your sense of humour away. He thinks that you’re going to wake up one day and hate him for letting this job consume your life. He worries about all of you though.”

“He worries about all of us?” that was JJ.

“Of course. He thinks that he’s taking your chances at happiness away from you by calling you in at ungodly hours, disrupting your vacations, making you look at what happens to happy couples and innocent children- I really shouldn’t say anymore I just always assumed you knew.”

“We don’t profile team members,” Elle said, slightly defensive.

“I didn’t think you did. I just assumed he spoke to you,” Haley said, but there was no accusation in her tone. Just the smallest amount of surprise and confusion.

The members of the team started staring awkwardly in various directions, suddenly aware of how little Hotch actually shared with them. Only Morgan had even known Sean existed, and that was only because he’d knocked on the office door that one time.

Loud shouts from the room Hotch was in drew their attention. Everyone immediately stood, Haley and Jason moving forward so they would be the first person the doctor spoke to. They were too far away to determine the specifics of the conversation, but from the volume and range of voices they could hear told him it was a group of doctors and nurses.

The shouting stopped soon after though, and Gideon immediately knew that the silence could only mean that Hotch had been sedated. A part of him was glad the other man had woken up, but he was mostly wondering it that was the last time it would happen.

A few minutes passed. Garcia was humming to herself. Morgan was sat, staring at the wall, eyes glazed over as he ran through every moment that led up to the explosion. JJ was biting her nails. Gideon wanted to tell her to stop but he couldn’t. That was what Hotch did. Haley tugged her hand away and grasped it. Elle placed her hand on Reid’s knee. He stopped tapping his foot, looking up at her with the same confused look he wore when someone referenced pop culture. Elle smiled slightly. Gideon stood to the side. He didn’t deserve them.

The same doctor as before exited the room.

“He keeps asking after his father,” she said.

Haley immediately jumped out of her chair and went over before Gideon could get a single word out. Hotch had never mentioned his father after ending up in the hospital. Sometimes he asked if Sean was safe. Most of the time he asked for Haley. Never once had he mentioned his parents. Jason did not know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, but despite every part of him wanting to hope, he knew he was aware of the answer and that he was just too cowardly to admit it

“You have to let me in there,” she said.

“Mrs Hotchner with all due respect-”

“No. I know my husband’s medical history. You can’t keep sedating him, not when he needs to be conscious to answer your questions and not when there are only so many drugs his body can handle. But he isn’t asking after his father because he loves him. He’s asking where he is because he thinks he needs to work out how much more time he’s got before he needs to start pretending again. Let me in there, and he’ll cooperate.”

The doctor seemed to understand that there was no way they’d be able to win that particular battle. They sighed, then extended one arm to the door. Haley ran into the room, everyone else congregating outside.

“The painkillers will wear off in a few minutes,” the doctor told them all.

Haley nodded, immediately going to kneel beside Hotch’s bed, gently taking one hand and holding it tight, He was paler than anyone had ever seen him. His stomach was a mess of bruises and burns, some recent, others marks from a childhood that never should have happened.

Gideon watched, tears forming in his eyes. Hotch looked younger with his eyes closed. The pressures of the year seemed to fade, only to be made even clearer by the damage not covered by the hospital gown.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” Reid asked, five minutes later. His voice was shaky.

Haley’s grip tightened minutely. “Baby?” she whispered.

Aaron didn’t move. His heartrate remained steady, the beeping of the monitor the only sound that filled the room.

The doctors and nurses were preparing to do the rest of what they needed to do. Gideon felt his own heart slowing down. Aaron’s heart was beating but his eyes weren’t opening and the rise and fall of his chest was a shallow as when they’d first found him after Bale and none of this fit the pattern-

“I didn’t mean it, I swear, none of this was supposed to happen-” Aaron murmured, head rolling to the side.

Haley gasped and let go of his hand, just for a moment, before she realised what she’d done and grasped it again. “Aaron?”

Aaron’s eyes fluttered open. He struggled to keep them like that. “Where am I?” he whispered, southern accent coming out slightly.

That fit the pattern of his recovery.

“Mr Hotchner, you’re in Lockhart Hospital. Can you tell me your birth name and date of birth?” a nurse asked, voice firm but gentle.

“Hospital? No, I can’t be in the hospital, he’ll find me. He said he’ll kill mama and make me watch but I swear I didn’t come here myself, where is he, I can’t let him hurt them, I can’t-”

One of the members of staff prepared an injection.

“Don’t,” Haley warned, shifting closer to him.

“Mrs Hotchner-”

“Just a moment. I promise. Hey sunshine. It’s me. It’s Haley. You’re safe, I promise. He can’t hurt you. He’s dead now. He’s not here, and nobody is going to hurt you. Everybody just wants you to get better. Your team are here. You remember them right? Agent Gideon, Doctor Reid. Garcia and Morgan and JJ and Elle? Yes, you remember them. Well they’re all waiting for you to recover because they love you. I love you too. And nobody is going to hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Haley?” Aaron whispered.

Haley nodded. “I’m right here sunshine. And I’ll be right here when you’re ready to recover. So take a deep breath with me, that’s so good, I’m so proud of you sunshine, just keep doing that. Are you going to close your eyes? Okay. Just please wake- when you wake up, remember that you’re safe. Can you do that for me?”

“Safe,” Aaron repeated as his eyes closed, unable to take the pain he must’ve still been in.

Haley didn’t let go of her husband.

One of the nurses tapped her shoulder then quietly asked if she’d be okay waiting outside as they prepared the room for the next time he woke up, as they were no longer keeping him sedated and he seemed to be breathing himself, which meant they could move on.

Haley nodded and let go of Hotch’s hand. When she faced the team, Garcia immediately embraced her, and she started crying again.

“Let’s go back to the waiting room,” Gideon said, unable to handle the sight any longer. Garcia didn’t let go of Haley, choosing instead to wrap her arm around her as they left.

“When Aaron was seventeen, his dad broke his arm and then refused to let him go to the hospital. He passed out in the middle of a lesson the next day and the school were forced to call an ambulance. He didn’t become coherent till they got there, and he wouldn’t stop screaming. I’d snuck in and was the only person he wouldn’t flinch away from,” she said once they’d all sat down.

Elle’s jaw dropped. Garcia started crying herself. Morgan looked away. JJ and Reid grabbed each other’s hands. They’d all assumed something had gone on in Hotch’s childhood- he never spoke about his family, he was always rougher with unsubs that they profiled as being abusive fathers- but there was a difference between making the inference and hearing it from the person that knew him best.

“He’s lucky to have you,” Jason commented.

“Allowing him to feel his emotions and letting him know that he’s safe is doing the bare minimum,” Haley said.

He didn’t have a comeback to that.

Thirty minutes passed before the doctor came back. It was good news. The profilers could tell.

“He’s awake and stable enough to receive visitors now,” they said.

Everyone jumped out.

“Go on,” Gideon said to Haley, who dashed into the room and hugged her husband.

He made a small sound of discomfort, but still tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Hi Haley,” he whispered.

She laughed, sitting on the bed beside him. “You’re okay.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

The rest of the team filed into the room. Reid looked ready to cry again.

“Spencer, you cannot blame yourself. I told you to run because I wanted you to, and if you hadn’t, I’d be furious at you for always trying to be the hero. Elle, the same goes for you. I took you to the hotel. Nobody asked me to go to your house, so stop looking at me like I’m about to break. I’ll be fine,” he said.

Hospital painkillers had always made him lose his filter.

Garcia started laughing. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny, but sir your accent is coming through and it’s so hard to take you seriously when you’re laid up in bed with your hair all mussed and your accent but you’re still trying to tell them off and, it’s just, it’s confirmation you’re going to be fine.”

Hotch gave her a grin. Haley ran her hand through his hair, messing it up further.

“Thanks Hotch,” Reid said. He rocked on the balls of his feet for a few moments before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like fuck it and he too went and hugged Hotch. Haley shifted slightly. Hotch raised his arms to wrap around Reid’s back.

“Everything will be fine,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Reid pulled back with tears in his eyes but a smile on his face.

“No more close calls like that. You hear me?” Morgan chastised, patting Hotch’s shoulder.

Hotch rolled his eyes. “You aren’t the boss of me Morgan. I’m the boss of you.”

“Aaron,” Haley said.

He blushed, making everyone laugh. “Fine.”

The women of the team came over. Elle gave him a quick one-armed hug, whispering in Spanish so the rest of the team didn’t understand. Hotch wiped his eyes when she went to stand by the others. JJ hugged him gently, saying that he didn’t get to terrify them like that because he was mom and they needed him. Garcia’s heels made a comically loud sound as she walked over to him.

“You are the most self-destructive unit chief I know. But you’re also the most handsome, loving, sweet one as well. And I know you won’t stop putting your life on the line for our baby genius and chocolate thunder so let’s compromise: you can do dumb and reckless things but you’re not allowed to complain when we pamper you afterwards, okay?”

Hotch blinked a few times. “Sure Garcia.”

Garcia hugged him again, pressing a kiss to his forehead that left a pink mark behind. Haley laughed, which led to the analyst immediately shuffling over to the rest of their rag-tag family.

Gideon watched from the doorway as the rest of his team and Haley sat with Hotch, laughing and joking. He couldn’t bring himself to walk in there and comfort Hotch. Not when it had all been his fault. The team had saved an innocent girl. Hotch had pulled through again. There was a high that came with that, and he wasn’t about to ruin it for any of them.

But what happened when the high ran out?

Elle would realise her leader wasn’t the stoic man she once thought he was. Spencer and Derek would be forced to help Hotch pour his coffee and climb the stairs to his office because he couldn’t do it alone but he didn’t want to ask. Garcia would go home to an empty apartment, wondering which one of her family she’d almost lose next. JJ would have to deal with the media fallout of the case.

Haley would hold her husband, wondering how much more he would be able to give to his job before he broke. Before it broke them. Aaron would have more scars that he’d never be able to recover from.

Gideon would be forced to watch as they all returned to work, scared fractured but incapable of walking away. David Rossi had always said there would be people waiting in the wings to take over, but Gideon didn’t agree. Only the people that had seen the depths of depravity were willing to put themselves through the horrors of profiling.

Aaron looked up and met Gideon’s eyes. He looked terrified.

Gideon smiled. He had to.

But he knew.

He knew Elle would break. He could see she was already struggling with the guilt. He knew that one day, probably soon, he wouldn’t be able to look at his team without seeing their scars or the people he’d failed.

He knew Haley wouldn’t be able to handle her husband’s job forever.

Jason Gideon knew that each member of his team would fall in their own way. He did not know whether or not they would be able to get up. He did know, however, that it would be another round of the waiting game.

And it would only get harder.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #oh my god i'm so glad this is done #right #once my laptop is charged #because it is at one percent #i will do my final masterlist #aaron hotchner #sumayyah writes cm

12 notes · View notes

hargrove-mayfields · 3 years ago

Text

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 6/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

accompanying art piece by @monochromegee! check it out here!

~~~~

The more Steve thinks about someone being stuck on the other side, the more he has his heart set on doing something about it.

He hadn’t been a hero to anybody last time they were dealing with the Upside Down, too caught up in his own troubles to do anything useful, and it had cost him the love of his life. He was going to guarantee that he stepped up this time. With more time to think, he defines a plan, “I think you’re right, I think we should get ahold of El. That way we can at least figure out who to go to next.”

“Okay, well, that sounds great and all that you have a plan, Steve, but you’re not calling anybody with this burnt up phone, and I’m pretty sure this is too time sensitive to write a letter.” Robin motions to the broken phone where it still hung from the base.

Steve thinks for a moment and snaps his fingers, “The neighbor would let us borrow hers.”

That’s how they end up in the elderly neighbor Dorothy's half of the duplex, Robin entertaining her in the living room with any random story she could think of, and Steve in the hallway a little ways down, talking low so the unsuspecting neighbor can’t hear what he is saying. To get in, they’d just told her that Robin's phone had just been cutting out, but Steve needed to call his sick mother until they could replace it.

Of course that isn’t true, he instead dials the number Joyce left for all of them to get in contact with her if need be, “Mrs Byers?”

On the other end, he hears a lot of noise in the background, at first worried about a repeat of last night, until the sounds made themselves clear as not doomsday static, but business. There’s a television turned up loud, noise from the kitchen like someone was cooking, talking carrying from a distant conversation, before Joyce’s gentle voice cuts through it, “Hi, honey. How have you been?”

He skips the formalities, trying to be fast for the sake of whoever is trapped, and to get it out before the neighbor got bored of Robin and started snooping, “I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, Is everything alright, Steve?” There’s a hint of concern in her voice he has to swallow before he decides what his answer will.

He decides just to rip the bandage off in one go, “Can you put El on the phone?”

Instantly her demeanor switches. They both knew Steve had no reason other than an emergency to want to talk to her daughter, because the other kids would have done it themselves, don’t need Steve as their messenger anymore, “What is this about?”

“We think there is someone in the Upside Down.” He hears her cover the receiver, and call to El in the next room, a hint of urgency to her tone. There was the sound of the phone being passed between two people before El's small voice rang out through the receiver.

“Hello?”

He again skips a proper greeting, full of too much nervous energy to worry about being polite, “Is there any chance at all that someone could still be in the Upside Down?”

It takes her a second to respond, but her answer is firm, “The gate is closed.”

“I know, but do you think we could’ve closed it on somebody?”

“Why?” She sounds unsure of whether or not she should trust him, so he explains to her, “The phone rang and Robin said it sounded like a bunch of static, and like someone was talking but she couldn’t hear them. It blew up like it did before when Will called.”

There’s a long pause and whispers in the background, like she’s being coached by Joyce, and her answers comes slowly, “Without powers I can’t help. But I have an idea.”

Another pause and her mother takes the phone back, “We’ll come back to Hawkins and figure it out, Steve. See what you can do until we get there.”

The line goes dead before he can thank her or ask how long he could expect to wait, so he sighs and hangs the phone back up. When he returns to the living room, Robin stands up from the couch and the neighbor asks politely, “How was she?”

He furrows his eyebrows, has too much on his mind and has to remember the cover story they came up with before he can answer, “She’s alright. Thank you, Dorothy.”

They’re halfway to the front door when she stops them, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you two, I have the city’s number if you need it.”

Robin smiles politely, “What for?”

“Well, that streetlight outside. It’s been flickering on and off these past few nights, I thought it would be bothering you two being right outside your window and all. I know it’s been driving me up the wall.” She chuckles, not realizing the significance of what she just said to them.

They exchange a look between themselves, both having gone a little pale.

Robin recovers quicker, so she forces a smile back onto her face, significantly less genuine this time, and steers Steve outside with a guiding hand on his back, assuring the neighbor before shutting the door in her face, “That’s alright, Dorothy. We hadn’t noticed actually.”

~~~~

This end of the neighborhood is so poorly lit, but Billy can’t afford to get cornered like this.

He’d taken off from the area around duplex apartment, leaving behind the big monster and running until he finds more street lights, though in a poor backwoods town like Hawkins, only a select few streets nearby downtown or the rich neighborhoods were taken care of, so it’s not until he’s all the way at the other end of the street, almost by the intersection to the next neighborhood, that he finds another dull and flickering street light.

It’s then, looking up hopefully at the dull, flickering light that he realizes this area is somewhat familiar to him, though it's still much farther out than his usually traveled routes between Cherry Lane and Loch Nora.

When things were normal, Billy was so bitter about leaving his home, so he hadn’t bothered getting familiar with the entire town. If it was out of his way, it wasn’t his problem, Hawkins was only ever supposed to be a temporary home for him anyways.

Even now he still wasn’t acquainted with the area, because over here past the neighborhood where he found Steve and Robin is the dark zone, where the storm clouds are thicker and the fog covers what little light there is in this place, and he normally wouldn’t dare stray over this way.

Right now though, there’s a monster that’s already tasted his blood on his heels, so it doesn’t really matter where he ends up.

He follows a long dirt driveway towards that one streetlight, beacon of hope that it was, when suddenly it hits him. This is the Byers’ house.

If there were literally anywhere else for him to go right now other than that house, he’d go there, guilty memories he’d been mostly forgiven for still sitting heavy in his heart, if not just because now all the people he’d hurt that day were still living without him, making new memories and probably remembering his as that same asshole that barged into the Byers family home that night.

But, he’s not out of the woods just yet to be picky, because there’s a trail of blood from his injured arm leading the monster to this exact spot, and that is a monster that already had the taste of his flesh. He’d have to take whatever he could get.

The second he opens the door, under the twisting vines and ash and mold covering almost everything in the house, it’s obvious that this isn’t the same house he’d burst into two years ago, none of the floral couches and knitted Afghans and Merry Mushroom canisters that made for that warm, homey feel of the place that had made Billy feel queasy when juxtaposed with what he’d thought was happening in that house before Steve apologized for lying, and he for kicking Steve’s ass, and gave him a new explanation that was, as he now knew, still a coverup, but didn’t seem so predatory.

Now there were all leather arm chairs, dirty work boots by the door, and empty beer bottles on the kitchen counters. He could tell from the way this house is decorated alone, at least if he imagined it without all the rot and death, that this house had been bought up by some unhappy old man, and he almost wants to be bitter, that he’s going to die in a place that looks like the embodiment of the unhappy future he was damned to even if he made it out of this hell, until something catches his eye.

On display hooks, positioned perfectly atop the mantelpiece, there is a proudly displayed shotgun.

Billy almost trips over the clutter-covered coffee table running to go get it, a feeling like hope in his chest, but when he pulls it down, his heart sinks a little. He can tell from the weight that it isn’t loaded, it’s just some old bastards trophy.

He worries for a second that it isn’t even a real gun at all, but a snarl from the other side of the door reminds him it doesn’t matter if it shoots, it’ll still bludgeon. A weapon is a weapon.

Still, he quickly turns the place over, clearing off that coffee table, feeling along the underside of the mantel for a hidden box, and digging through the side table drawers, in there finding old pills and candy wrappers, spare change and, in the very last place he looks, a box of shotgun shells.

He grabs it, but he doesn’t have time to be relieved, because on the other side of the door, there’s a snarl accompanied by a scratching sound, and he knows that that thing outside is taunting him. Trapping him in so it could toy with him before finally killing him. But he’s not going to let that happen, not now.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed down here, but he had been hurt and starved and damn near froze to death, and he had still survived. All this time it had been for himself, to prove he could do it and maybe, just maybe someday reach the other side, but now he had a purpose. Now he knew his Steve was right there, just out of his reach. He can’t give up now. He won’t.

He takes the gun into the kitchen, where he’ll have a minute if the monster does lose its temper and break in early, sliding to the floor with it so he’s level with where the monsters face would be once it turned the corner, gritting his teeth and lowering the barrel of the gun, his good hand shaking badly as he tries against his nerves and the bite making him weaker to load the shells in both barrels.

At the same time, just as he expected, the monster decides it’s done playing with its food, hitting into the door until the hinges crack and it swings open at an off angle. Billy curses under his breath and tries to load faster, in his panic accidentally catching sight of the bite wound on his arm, and it’s bad. As in, he can’t believe he’s still conscious right now bad. But he tries not to think about it and just locks the gun back in, cocks it, and aims it straight in front of him.

His hands are shaking so badly he’s not sure he could actually fire the gun or hit the monster even if he did, but surprisingly, he doesn’t have to put that theory to the test, because the monster never comes around the wall. Claws scratch into the damp carpeted floor in the room parallel to the one he’s in and eerie chitters and growls fill the disturbingly quiet air. Billy always wondered if that sound was them communicating, or if they were mocking him. Making his skin crawl so he’d let his guard down, be afraid as they tore him to shreds.

But then it just stops again. The house totally silent except for the monster's horribly ragged breathing, and then it leaves. Retreats right out of the front door, and from the rustling sound that carries from outside, back into the woods.

Billy breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, tilting his head back against the wall, exhausted. Above his head he notices a cross, just a little golden thing dangling right above his head, and he laughs bitterly. Some blessing this is.

Because, while he didn’t get viciously eaten alive, for which he supposes he could be grateful in some ways, here he still was, after so many days he couldn’t count them anymore, he was still trapped and alone with monsters hunting him. Now suddenly throwing Steve and his friend into the mix, and he’s got himself the perfect mix of hopelessness and heartbreak and dread making this all the harder.

With effort, he stands again, this time not making the mistake of leaving his weapon behind.

The adrenaline is slowly wearing off, and his arm really starts to demand his attention. It stings like nothing he’s ever felt before, a horrible sensation that makes his whole arm feel painfully numb. He just hopes the medicine in this house hadn’t succumbed to the elements like most things he scavenged for tend to anymore.

By some miracle, the old man who bought the place up still hadn’t finished unpacking, and right at the bottom of a cardboard box full of old towels is an almost completely preserved first aid kid, fully intact other than a couple of rotten bandages, but those wouldn’t be of much use to him right now anyways.

He tries to remember the rules his dad had taught him the first time he cut too deep, rules which he’d later passed down to Max when she was being nosy after witnessing a fight, following him around while he was trying to get his face to stop bleeding.

Clean it, medicate it, bandage it.

Normally when he was telling it to Max, he’d tack on to the end to go get help if she was bleeding more than a bandaids worth, but that’s not really of much use to him, so he pushes his sleeve up, grateful it had already been rolled up some and hadn’t been torn, and assesses the damage.

He can’t see any bone, which is good enough news, but he can’t see much of anything else from how badly he’s bleeding, which is not so good. He can’t even get a fair judgement of how bad it is with all the gore covering the actual wound, so he walks to the sink to wipe some of the blood away.

The water quality down here varies from day to day, not that he’d ever drink the stuff, he’d a thousand times over raid a monsters den for a single water bottle than put that stuff in his body, but sometimes he’d test it just to check if it was clean enough for him to try and wash away any of the dirt and blood on him.

Sometimes nothing would come from the faucet but disgusting black sludge. Today he was lucky, the water, if you could even call it that, cloudy and speckled, but not unusable. Besides, he would rather get some weird alien infection in his arm than bleed out anyways.

Max’s watch is caked in gore so he quickly runs it under the water too. It’s probably going to fry the stupid thing, and the thought of its familiar ticking being gone does admittedly make Billy a little uneasy, but he’d rather return the watch broken than stained with his blood.

Because that’s really his biggest goal. To keep surviving and make it out of wherever the hell he is so he could give Max back her watch and Steve back that stupid bandana he probably didn’t even notice was missing, and his dad back his jacket. Shove it in the asshole's face and tell him, ‘Here’s your jacket back you old bastard. Mind the blood stain on the collar and the tear in the shoulder. I fucking missed you, dad.’

He's able to get the bleeding to stop with rags, and once the wound is clean, he slathers the bite in as much polysporin as he can find, mostly to mask the heavy smell of blood lingering on his skin that would act like a beacon for the monsters miles away until this hole in his arm heals. He finds clean enough bandages and wraps it until he can barely move his wrist, tugging his sleeve back down over them. He decides not to clean up all the blood, so there was something to distract them from finding him once he leaves.

Healing is supposed to be the hardest part, and Billy had always thought that was bullshit- the hardest part was the betrayal when his dear old dad cracked his bones and left bruises on his skin when there are real monsters out there in the world that don’t give you a hug and an apology when it’s over- but now he knows for sure that isn’t true.

The most important thing is finding Steve again, and figuring out why he couldn’t see or touch him, and could only just barely hear him, but could feel his presence, almost tangibly.

Billy steals another two boxes of bullets, keeping the gun close at his side, and he sets back off for that duplex.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #robin buckley #tw blood #tw gun mention #ej writer #story by ej!#so excited to get this chapter out #because look at that amazing art!!!

9 notes · View notes

scaryscarecrows · 4 years ago

Text

Child Safety 101

AN: Continuation of ‘I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks’, found in Why Do They Kick Me?

Note: Mark is a trauma surgeon, not a GP, but he’s also the only one Jason will let within doctoring range, so.

* * *

The Knight has been down and unresponsive for literal days. The first day was the diciest, because even Mark hadn’t been totally sure if he’d pull through, but his fever had gone down enough to remove him from the danger zone.

Once it had become apparent that he wasn’t going to die on them-because Antoine’s sorry, but no way is he continuing this crusade in the guy’s memory or whatever, if the boss dies, he is leaving-, they’d had a meeting and, essentially, made a chore chart for who had Knightwatch, who had Armywatch, and who got to nap.

It’s a fairly efficient rotation. And so far, at least, they’ve managed to keep the news of, well, everything under wraps. All the men know is that the boss is down but that he will be fine, carry on as normal. They don’t know that the helmet’s off.

And. Oof. Of all the crackpot theories they’ve jokingly tossed around, this wasn’t one of them. Antoine’s not sure which one he’s more stuck on: the fact that the boss is a teenager, or the fact that the boss is-was-Robin. They’re so intertwined that it doesn’t really matter, it’s just…

Antoine is not a parent. He’s happy to keep it that way; the best part of uncle-ing is dosing them up on sugar and releasing them back to the parents. So he doesn’t really get the whole ‘electrical outlets are a Great Danger’ thing. But he does get, maybe a little better than your average parent, the sick, twisted fucks of society. He’s worked with a handful. Spoken with more. He still remembers, years after the fact, that one guy...he ate people. Literally. He’d put a toddler in the oven-alive-and…

Yeah.

But this is a little different. This is...it’s one thing to hear about it. It’s another thing to be faced with it. And it’s another thing entirely to see it. That fucking tape, man…

He stretches out a bit, pops his back and rubs a hand over his side, feeling rough scar tissue. What a week. What an absolute hell of a week.

He’s on Knightwatch now, because everything outside is moving smoothly without him and Frank really, really needs the nap. The boss is finally sleeping peacefully, curled up on his side with one arm flung up to shield his face. He’s still shivering on and off, and he sounds congested as all get out, but the worst of it is over. No more screaming, no more pleading.

What now? He supposes they’ll stay the course, but he’s not sure, not really. Maybe this is the end. Maybe the boss will vanish in the middle of the night.

Jesus, that explains so much. Batman taught him all this weird shit. Batman...this is, arguably, entirely Batman’s fault. What sort of weirdo...never mind. Never mind.

As ever, he figures, this is a nasty combination of neglectful adult and opportunistic predator. This is the same thing as that one girl in his sister’s apartment complex that got kidnapped. Six years old, mother said, ‘yes, yes, go play by the road alone!’ and she got abducted and murdered. Somebody should have been watching her.

Somebody should have been watching the boss.

Doesn’t matter. People are watching him now, at least, whether he likes it or not.

He coughs and rolls over, one arm slipping off the bed. Antoine sighs and puts it back, straightens the sheets out like he’s seen Frank and his sister do, and wonders what’s going to happen now.

They could, he supposes, figure out who he-and by extension, Batman-is. Jimmy could run a facial recognition at the minimum. But they haven’t, and they don’t really intend to. Curious as they are, they owe him their lives and...and no matter how this turns out, he’s their boss and they won’t.

Antoine’s sort of lost in thought, caught up in memories of that little girl (what was her name?) and the cannibal and the utter confusion of everything, when the Knight suddenly jerks upright like he’s gonna make a break for it.

“Shit--”

He twists over and only feels a little sorry for forcing the Knight back down. The sorry feeling vanishes when the boss tries to fight him.

“No--”

“You gotta be kidding me--” It’s not much of a fight, but he’s still trying, which is incredibly unfair. “How even--there.”

Okay. There’s no easy weapons in here, which is all he can ask for. He’s not interested in being held at gunpoint again, thanks.

“You back with us, sir?”

The Knight’s quiet, breathing hard and seemingly very interested in the ceiling.

“We have an intruder,” he says, voice carefully flat. “I want every available unit search--”

Uh-huh.

“You wouldn’t have held this intruder at gunpoint, would you, sir?”

Silence. That’s what he thought. They’re professionals, for heaven’s sake. People don’t just get into their super-secret hidden base. That just doesn’t happen. Their own people have gotten lost trying to find their way back to it! Intruder, humph. That hurts.

…

Yeah, okay, he’s trying to maintain the facade of normalcy. Like. The helmet’s off, man, any weird-ass theories anybody’s had have now been put to rest in favor of the truth. But both of them are probably going to be happier if they just pretend that nothing has changed.

(Which is half-true. Baby Robin or not, the guy’s still scary.)

“What day is it,” he finally says, voice scarcely above a whisper. Antoine hits the call button.

“March third, sir.”

“Shit.”

Yup.

There’s no good response to that and the boss goes slack, one arm flung over his face. A minute later, Mark throws open the door with a grumpy, “What the fuck was that.”

“I--”

“Went the fuck down in the middle of the day thanks to a one-oh-four degree fever,” Mark seethes. “You have. The goddamn. Flu. People die from the flu, straight-up die, and you didn’t think to mention it! I’m not asking for much here. Just a little heads up. Y’know, ‘hey, Jones, I’m feelin’ pretty crappy, think you can poke your head in to make sure I didn’t die in the night?’ ‘Oh, sure thing, boss, happy to help, feel better!’” The smile he plasters on is frightening. The boss doesn’t like it, not one bit, and to Mark’s credit, he drops it pretty quick. “What were you thinking? Anything? Really, I’d love your thought process.”

“‘ve handled worse on my own,” the Knight mumbles, somewhere between sheepish and stubborn. “Thought a walk would clear my head.”

Sad thing is, Antoine believes him. The brand alone is not pretty, and while Mark hasn’t said much, what he has shared is disturbing.

And. Well. It’s not like the boss has been totally silent for the past few days. Once or twice he’d woken up screaming, the kind of awful sound Antoine associates with three-feet-thick walls and Professionals. Hell, Mark had collared Trent to come and look at something, and while neither of them are sharing, that’s Bad. Trent’s not a doctor, but he knows how to hurt people...and what they look like after.

“Well, it made you worse. You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone or yourself, parading around like that. Aight, you sit up, you clear out.”

Gladly.

“Feel better, sir,” he says. “We’ve got things handled out here, so just get some rest.”

“Oh, he doesn’t have a choice. Come on, up-up...be lucky if I let you out of my sight again after this...f’I have to give you weekly check-ups, that’s what’ll happen…”

Fuck Batman, Antoine thinks tiredly. This is his fault, things never should have advanced to the point that his...sidekick...kid...whatever ended up like this. How is Gotham not screaming about kids and guns anyway, huh? That just seems like Child Safety 101. He certainly makes sure all his toys are locked up tight when the niblings are over. He sure as hell wouldn’t give them a dull knife and tell them to, like, fight a trained mercenary. That seems like a terrible idea.

Whatever. It’s not going to go any farther. Boss he might be, but he’s just not going to be allowed to be an idiot, that’s all there is to it. No more vanishing off somewhere for three days, he’ll just have to check in or something. Frank can bully him about that. It’s for his own damn good.

THE END

#Jason Todd #Arkham Knight #Antoine Drouot #Mark Jones #identity reveal #well sorta #they're more stuck on 'Batman let a child fight crime and this happened'#(nobody is happy about it either)#Jason can kiss leaving the base after six goodbye

42 notes · View notes