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bigassmoonchild · 1 year ago

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Thirteen

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: As much as Simon wanted to talk to you, he still had a job to do. You were hurting beyond belief, and he wanted to right his wrongs. He doesn't know what's happening back at base, though, with Soap and eventually yourself.

Content Tags: Angst, Hurt/Some Comfort, Injured Price, Nearly Dead Soap, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of Pregnancy, Possible Death, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: Shorter chapter, I'm sorry, but it's almost a filler chapter I guess? Anyways. Holy shit. 10 parts already?? I never would've expected this, but here we are! I know I keep saying it, but there may not be many more chapters after this (depending on how it evolves). Thank you all for the support and here is chapter 10! (content beneath the cut and my asks are open <3)

P.S: All asks are going to be completed tomorrow, it's getting late and I still need to eat <3 but still much love!!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Simon never made it to you. He wasn't able to talk to you, because it seemed like you had disappeared. He asked around, people didn't know entirely where you were but they had seen you disappear into an operating room and watched Soap follow soon after. From then, you hadn't been seen.

It had been thirteen hours. Thirteen hours of being unsure of how his packmate was, unsure of what his mate was thinking. He had no clue what was happening. Price had been there, still being stitched up and hobbling around on crutches (you'd pushed for him using a wheelchair, but his pride got in the way).

"There's not much you can do, mate," Price said, grasping at Simons shoulder to not only try and comfort him, but regain his balance. "You're needed in the conference room as well," Price whispered, ducking his head down.

Whipping his head around, Simon looks at him, brows furrowed. "Price, I need to be here, for Soap, for..." his eyes drifted away, thinking about you. "I need to be here," he whispered, shaking his head slowly.

Price gave a little grimace. "I understand, but-

"No!" Simons voice raised, moving to shove Prices hand off of him before realizing the crutches were sliding from under him. "No, you don't understand," Price looked away, jaw clenching. Shaking his head, Simon looked away. "I'll go, but I need to be able to talk to her," he whispered.

"I'll figure out a way, during the mission," Price told him. With a moment to allow Price to regain his balance, Simon took off. He'd need to talk to you, as soon as he could, but first? His job.

It took thirteen and a half hours to get Soap stabilized. Thirteen and a half hours before you could get back out of the OR, before you could get back to your nest. The second you stepped out of the OR, walking to make sure Soaps nurse would know exactly what to do, you ran into Price.

"You should be resting," you told him, glancing at the way he wobbled on the crutches. "Or in a wheelchair,"

"You know my opinion on a wheelchair," he said. Looking around, making sure the two of you were the only people around, he looked straight into your eyes. "He's on a mission," he whispered. "Was just sent off a few minutes ago, he got briefed half an hour ago," you looked away.

There was no thinking, you couldn't even process the fact that he was gone. Without talking to you. Gone.

"So I was thirteen hours too late?" You whispered, feeling your throat burning with the telltale sign of a good cry coming up. "How dangerous is it?"

Price shrugged, shaking his head. You gave a huff, moving to walk ahead but slow enough Price could keep up. There was nothing you wanted more than to just run away, stay in your actual home, in the nice and large nest you'd built there.

With a deep sigh, you began speaking with the nurse you found. Telling her how often to change the bandages, who to call in case something happened overnight, what to do if something went wrong. She listened closely, still just barely getting through the beginnings of her career.

Walking away, you glanced over at Price. "Did he say anything? About what... happened?" Price shrugged again and you groaned, dropping your head back. "Is that all you can do, now? Shrug?" He barked a laugh, dropping his head before groaning. You moved towards him, going to grab at where you knew the sutures were before he put his hand up.

"Just sore, really. Moved the wrong way," he told you and you nodded. As you kept walking, just a bit slower now. The two of you walked, nearly aimlessly, throughout the compound. You said nothing, he said nothing and you just existed. For a few moments, you were finally able to just exist in the peace that the compound gave you.

There wasn't much peace, though. Your thoughts were winding in circles, mostly around you and Simon. Your mate.

You could feel the hurt there, you could feel the absolute pain that took you over when you thought about how he acted or treated you sometimes. But there were those other times that helped numb the pain.

How he held you, so delicately. How he loved you, so carefully. His careful moves of making sure that you were comfortable, how sweet he was when courting you. Eating lunch and dinner together, giggling about all of the people around you. Gossiping.

Price allowed you to leave, explaining he needed time to call his own Omega and make sure the pups were behaving and you'd giggled with that. You missed the time between becoming okay with pups and right before everything happened after his rut.

In your nest, you sat there, grieving what you had and what you could have had. With him, you hadn't felt so loved in those few moments. You hadn't realized how loved you'd been. But you knew how hurt you became, and you weren't entirely sure how much longer you could stand it. How much longer you could sit there and allow him to hurt you.

The next week and a half flew by. You'd been busy ensuring that Soap was okay, making sure that Price was kept updated on everything, making sure he took the necessary amount of rest he needed. Filling out paperwork, training your squad and having little to no time of your own.

At this point, you were sick. Your stomach was in knots all the time, you had thrown up a few times throughout the week but you didn't think much of it. You were working yourself to what felt like the bone, so it made sense to you why you were sick. You barely had the time to slow down, barely ate and barely slept.

You were sick. That's what you kept on telling yourself, because any other explanation would hurt you even worse. And the nesting, you figured, was because you were already so stressed out from Simon being gone. You were eating more because you were hungry.

So damned hungry.

Amanda was the one who pushed you to take the day off, to figure out what you were coming down with. Your head wasn't stuffy, so you weren't affected by a cold or anything of that sort. You were feeling nauseous and sick, you spent some time bent over the toilet trying to hold your breakfast or dinner down.

Sick.

That's what you were, even if the two pink little lines were telling you something different. You didn't have to pay attention to that, because these little things were oftentimes wrong. You were sick, because you were throwing up and nauseous and dizzy sometimes. You were nesting because you were sick and missing your Alpha, you were eating more because you hadn't been eating well.

There was nothing about the blood test that gave a reason for those two little lines to appear, even if you could see it clear as day. You weren't pregnant, because Alpha wasn't here and may never come home. You weren't pregnant, because Alpha wasn't sure if he wanted it, and the best you could do was hide.

The knocking on your door came violently and unexpected. You had been hunched over the toilet bowl when it came and, with a quick drink of water, you answered it to see Price there, holding a radio.

"Take this, you have ten minutes," he whispered. Looking down at it, you could hear faint gunshots echoing, shouts coming through. "Get him home,"

"Simon?" You whispered, feeling almost as fragile as the being inside of you was. You could hear a grunt, the whooshing of helicopter blades nearly overpowering everything. "Simon?" You said, louder this time.

When his voice came through, you felt you could almost cry. "Yes, lovie?" He whispered, a gunshot coming from far too close to be anything but his own. "I'm here," he added.

You nearly sobbed into the radio, pulling the radio closer to yourself. "Oh god, Simon, please," you whispered. "Please come home, make it here," he gave a sharp laugh.

"Thought you didn't want to talk to me until I apologized," he said, grunting as he did something. You had no idea what, but you just knew his voice was here. "I'm in a bit of a pickle," he said, growing quiet for a few minutes. Neither of you spoke, and you could feel your heart hammering.

Swallowing thickly, you leaned closer to the radio. "'m sorry," you whispered into it. "I'm so, so sorry," you could feel gasping hiccups coming from your body. He hushed into the radio, giving you little comments here and there to calm you.

You could nearly see his head shake. "You shouldn't be apologizing," shouts came from around him. "I'm so sorry, love," he whispered. The radio cut out, static screeching through the speaker. You stared down at the radio, blinking tears from your eyes.

"No," you whispered, trying to get the radio to cut back in. "No!" You shouted, dropping to your knees and sobbing. "Please," you whispered, sobs bursting through you chest. You could barely hear the door open, barely felt arms circling around you as you sobbed.

Shushes and hums came from Price as he rocked the two of you, holding you close to him.

"Please tell me he's not dead," you whispered into his chest and Price just shushed you. "I was thirteen hours late, Price," you sobbed.

Taglist:

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @404lunar @josieguts

#angst #hurt/comfort #simon ghost riley x reader #no use of y/n #call of duty x reader #task force 141 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #ghost mw2 #call of duty #simon riley x you #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #simon ghost riley #hurt/no comfort #maple syrup

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fanfictionalraven · 8 months ago

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Right Where You Left Me

Title: Right Where You Left Me

Summary: The reader, a waitress at the local diner, has become good friends with Dean. What happens when he disappears without a trace?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel

Word Count: 7,309

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author's Note: This story takes place through the events of the second half of season 12, starting with episode 9 "First Blood". It's also the first story I've actually written and published in nearly 6 years, so grant me a little grace please. Enjoy!!

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” A voice says. You snap from your thoughts and look at the people sitting at the table in front of you. You’d gotten distracted by the bell at the door, a new customer coming in. Not the one you were looking for though. Putting on your best smile, you shake your head slightly.

“I’m so sorry. Where were we?” You ask, glancing at the notepad in your hand.

“We were trying to ask you about the pie of the day,” the woman says. You nod and try not to sigh.

“Cherry,” you tell her. Dean’s favorite. They order two slices which you deliver to them quickly before going into the kitchen. “Stew, I’m taking a 10,” you announce to the cook. He waves a hand at you and glances at the clock.

“Make it 5,” he shouts as you slip out the back door. Leaning against the wall with a sigh, you slip the brace off of your wrist and roll the sore joint slowly, wincing.

“This job,” you mumble before pulling your phone from your apron. Going into your recent calls, you hit the name at the top. Dean. He wasn’t going to answer. He hadn’t in weeks after all, calls or texts. It rings…and rings…and rings. Just as you’re about to give up, the final ring is cut off.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice asks, curiously. Confusion and a million unpleasant thoughts sweep over you in an instant.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to reach Dean,” you say.

“This is his phone. At least, I think it is…who is this?” She asks. You sigh and run a hand over your face.

“My name’s Y/N. I…I work at a diner and Dean’s one of my regulars. I haven’t seen him in a while and…I was worried,” you tell her. You can hear the confusion in her voice when she responds.

“A waitress who has her customer’s numbers and calls to check up on them?” She asks.

“No. Well…yes, but…Dean’s more than just a customer,” you say.

“What exactly is Dean then?” She asks, a slight edge to her voice. What is Dean? That was the very question you’d spent countless nights asking yourself.

When Dean had first wandered into the diner and sat in your section, he was just another tip. Sure, the two of you had flirted but, to be honest, you flirted with most of your customers. You had bills to pay after all. He came back the very next night, claiming the pie had just been too good. On his fifth visit to the diner, he wandered in just as you clocked out and invited you to join him. You sat in that booth across from him for hours, laughing and talking. At the end of his seventh trip, you slipped your phone number to him on the back of his bill. He’d called you before his car was even out of the parking lot.

That was nearly a year ago and the two of you talked and texted regularly ever since. Sure, he’d go silent for a little while but then he’d saunter into the diner, give you a crooked smile, and ask for the pie of the day. Throughout that year, the two of you flirted, laughed, and teased each other. There had been a few occasions when he’d catch you as you were leaving, place a to-go order, and then you’d ride in his car out to some deserted spot to talk and eat. You’d gotten to know each other intimately. In an emotional sense that is. Dean always kept you at arm’s length. He’d never asked you on a real date. Your coworkers insisted he was probably married and just stringing you along. And now some strange woman was answering his phone and…

“Y/N?” The woman on the line says.

“Sorry. A friend. Dean’s…a really good friend,” you tell her. “Can I ask who you are?”

“I’m Mary,” she starts and you immediately let out a heavy sigh.

“His mother. Of course,” you breathe with relief.

“Yes,” she says, slightly surprised.

“He’s talked about you a lot. Where is Dean?” You ask. Now, it was Mary’s turn to sigh.

“We don’t know,” she tells you.

“What?” You ask. “It’s his job, isn’t it?” You didn’t know exactly what Dean did but he’d come into the diner beaten and bruised on a few occasions.

“Well…yes,” she says.

“Have you called the police?”

“Y/N, break’s over,” Stew calls from the back door.

“Give me a minute!!” You yell to him. He grumbles and slams the door shut. “You have called the police, right, Mary?”

“That’s not exactly an option,” she says, slowly.

“Well…what about Sam? Or…or Cas?” You ask. There’s the briefest of pauses.

“I’m…I’m here with Mary,” a second voice says.

“And Sam was with Dean,” Mary adds. Cas was there as well, listening to your conversation. You frown and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think.

“I want to help,” you tell them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but…we don’t even know you,” she says.

“Well, then, come meet me. I get off at 8:00,” you say before giving her the address for the diner. “If you don’t show up, I’ll call the police and report them missing myself.”

“We’ll be there,” Mary says before disconnecting the line. You slip the phone back into your apron pocket and run your hands over your face. Sliding the brace back onto your wrist, you head back into the diner.

The rest of your shift drags on slowly. You don’t make nearly as much as you could have on tips, your normal perky personality absent. At 8:15, you finally manage to clock out, throwing your apron into the dirty linens bag. You rush out the front door and look around, phone in hand. The front doors of an unfamiliar car open at the same time. Mary, you recognize her from the old pictures Dean had shown you, gets out of the driver’s side, and the man you assume to be Cas gets out as well.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, watching you. You nod and rush over to the two of them.

“While I wish it was under different circumstances, it’s nice to finally meet you both,” you tell them, holding a hand out. Mary gives you a quick once over before placing her hand in yours.

“I wish I could say the same but…”

“Dean never mentioned me,” you say. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. You’d often wondered and now you knew for sure. You were a secret.

“So, what exactly do you know about their work?” Mary asks. You frown and shrug.

“Not much. I figure…best case, CIA…worst case, I dunno…the mafia,” you say, more than a little embarrassed. Mary smiles a little and looks down at the ground.

“Not exactly. It’s a bit more freelance than that,” she says.

“Like a bounty hunter?” You ask. Mary shakes her head, looking around.

“I’d rather not discuss it here. Would you be willing to go back to the bun…where the boys live and talk there?” She asks.

“Of course,” you agree, immediately.

***

Never get in the car with strangers. The age old advice rang through your ears as you rode in the back seat to wherever Mary and Cas were taking you. Of course, these two weren’t exactly strangers. They were at least Dean’s mother and best friend. You truly felt like you actually knew them with how much he’d talked about them.

Mary continues to drive as you watch the cityscape disappear. It isn’t too long before she’s pulling onto a desolate looking road. The road leads into a dark tunnel, only lit by the headlights of Mary’s car. Your eyes have to readjust when she pulls into a much more brightly lit area. Looking around, you find a room that appears to be a garage holding several very old cars. This much at least screamed Dean, relaxing you a little.

“You said they live here?” You ask, trying to wrap your mind around that statement.

“Yes. It’s an old bunker. Used to be home to a secret society, the Men of Letters,” she tells you. You nod and try to keep your face in check. You can feel her watching you in the rearview mirror.

“Are they in this secret society then? You ask as she parks the car.

“No,” she answers. “It died out in America decades ago. There is still an active branch in London though.”

“Douchebags,” Cas mutters. You both look at him and he glances between the two of you. “That’s what Dean calls them.” You let out a small laugh as the three of you get out of the car. Mary leads the way through the bunker quietly. You follow, looking around and trying to take in as much as you can. She leads the two of you into what you assume is a library given the shelves of books all along the walls.

“You drink?” She asks, holding up a bottle of brown liquid. You nod as you take a seat at the table. Admittedly, you were more of a wine drinker but you felt the impending conversation would require something stronger. Mary pours two glasses and sets one in front of you before walking around to the other side of the table. She takes the seat opposite you and looks at the glass, swirling it slightly. “You sure about this, Y/N? Once you know the truth, leaving it behind can be pretty difficult.”

“Please,” is all you manage to say. She nods and throws her drink back quickly.

“Alright,” she starts. “I come from a long line of hunters. Not the kind you’re thinking of. My family hunted monsters. Ghosts, demons, witches, vampires.” You strive to keep your face in check as you take a slow drink. This was not what you were expecting at all. “When I was 19, dating John, the boys’ father, a demon killed him and my parents. He offered me a deal. He would bring John back and we could live a normal life, as long as I gave him permission to enter my home in 10 years. I was suddenly alone and holding the dead body of the love of my life. I agreed. Ten years later, he entered my home and killed me. John took the boys on the road and they became hunters as well.”

Mary stops as you stand slowly and make your way over to the bottle she had used earlier. With shaking hands, you refill your glass before downing it quickly. This was insane. Mary was insane. There was no way this was real.

“Mary…I…you really expect me to believe all this?” You ask, looking back at her now. She shrugs slightly and looks at Cas. You’d forgotten he was even there. He’d been leaning against a bookshelf behind her, watching you. You look at him as he starts to make his way around the table towards you.

Panic quickly rises in your throat and you have to remind yourself that these are Dean’s people. At least…you’re fairly certain they are. You’d never seen pictures of Cas and the only ones you had seen of Mary were from when Dean was just a child. Now, this strange woman was trying to convince you that monsters were real and your friend hunted them for a living. Cas stops next to you and looks down at your hand.

“Why are you wearing that brace?” He asks. You blink, surprised. You’d half expected him to knock you unconscious.

“I, ummm…” You hold it up and shake your head. “Carpal Tunnel from work.” Cas nods and briefly touches two fingers to your forehead before you can even register the movement.

“You won’t need it anymore,” he says. You stare at him in disbelief before taking the brace off. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel any pain as you roll your wrist in every direction. You look back up at Cas and then at Mary. She smiles and shrugs.

“Angel,” she says. You know the shock is clear all over your face as Cas helps you back to your seat. The three of you sit in silence for a little while as you process all of this information. You’re grateful for the time they give you.

“You, ummm…” You stop and look at Mary. “You said you died.” She runs a hand across her forehead and looks at you, debating on if you’re prepared for more information. You give her the best reassuring smile you can manage at the moment.

“God’s sister brought me back as a thank you gift to Dean and Sam for helping her reunite with her brother,” she says. You’re absolutely certain your jaw hits the table.

“Well…that was…nice,” you manage. “And they were on a…a hunt when they disappeared?”

“Lucifer had possessed the president of the United States,” Cas starts. “We were going to exorcise him and return him to his cage in hell.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, immediately beginning to massage your temples. “This is…this is a lot.”

“Now you know why Dean never told you,” Mary says. You nod, still attempting to rub away the migraine threatening to explode behind your eyes.

“I, ummm…can I take a walk?” You ask. Mary nods, smiling a little. You hoped you were handling this better than she expected. You’re still shaking as you rise from your seat again and make your way down one of the hallways. Your mind thinks back over things Dean had mentioned about his work and, frankly, it lined up. He’d never given you a lot of details but now it was starting to make sense.

You stop in the middle of the hallway and glance around. Your curiosity gets the better of you causing you to push open the door in front of you. It was a bedroom, modestly decorated. You make your way into the room and find a familiar picture sitting on the bedside table. It was the photo Dean had shown you of him and his mother. Glancing around the room, you surmise that it must be his room.

You pull open the drawer of the bedside table and gasp. Inside you find several things, another gun, a handful of credit cards, and fake ID’s. But the most surprising thing was sitting right on top. You gingerly pick up the picture and can’t help but smile. It’s of you, sitting in the front seat of Dean’s car, laughing. You remembered when he’d taken it, one of the many nights you’d spent talking. You didn’t realize he’d had it printed and kept it so close. Maybe you were more than just a secret.

“Y/N?” Mary asks from the doorway. You look up at her and she smiles. “I was getting ready to head out when you called, a vampire thing in Missouri. Cas said he’d take you back.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you tell her. She nods once and leaves you alone.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You call Stew and make up a story about a death in the family out of state, telling him you’ll need a week or two off. He reluctantly agrees. You stay at the bunker with Cas after that. Your days are spent diving into the lore books in the old bunker, learning anything and everything you can. Cas teaches you how to do “research”, showing you how to tell the difference between normal weird and supernatural weird. He shows you one of the spare bedrooms but you end up sleeping in Dean’s room instead.

The two of you are making your way to the library when you hear Cas’s phone ringing. He rushes ahead to answer it and you go over to a new shelf to find something else to study.

“What?” He answers the phone. “Dean?” The book you’d picked out slips from your hand and you rush to his side. “What, what happened? Wh-where are you?” You stare at him, tears stinging your eyes. He grabs a pen and pad off the table and quickly jots down a note. Rocky Mountain National Park. State Route 34. “Yes. – Wait, where? – Wait, what does that…” Cas sighs and sets the phone down, frowning.

“What did he say?? Are they okay??” You ask. He glances at you and shrugs.

“He sounded rushed. Like they were being chased,” he says. You nod and pick up the notepad, trying to hide the rush of emotions you were feeling.

“We’ve got to call Mary. Meet up with her and get to Colorado,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and frowns.

“No, Y/N. It’s too dangerous for you to come along,” he says, taking the notepad. You shake your head, tears falling freely as you look up at the angel.

“Cas, please,” you beg. His resolve breaks instantly and he sighs, picking his phone back up.

“Dean would not approve,” he mumbles before calling Mary.

The two of you pull into a parking lot several hours later. Mary’s car is already sitting, waiting. She gets out and clenches her jaw when she sees you rise from the passenger side of Cas’s car.

“You got here quickly,” Cas remarks. Mary nods, eyes fixed on you.

“Yep. What the hell is she doing here??” She asks. Cas sighs and looks over at you.

“Mary, please. I won’t get in the way, I swear,” you tell her. Frowning, she shakes her head, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Y/N, it’s not about you being in the way. We have no idea what we’re walking into. I’m more worried about you getting hurt and what that would do to Dean,” she says. Swallowing hard, you set your jaw. Mary wasn’t going to see you cry too.

“Please. I have to be there. I need to see him with my own eyes,” you plead. She watches you for a moment, debating internally.

“Dean’s gonna kill us,” she says before turning to Cas. “We may want backup.”

“Crowley and Rowena?” He asks. She scoffs and you glance between them.

“The King of Hell and his mother, the witch?” She asks. You frown and shake your head.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you comment. Mary smiles a little and looks at Cas.

“I hope we can do better than them.”

“I may have an idea,” he says. Mary nods and makes for the driver’s side of her own car.

“Good. Seat belts on. I drive fast,” she tells the two of you as you load into the car as well.

The British Men of Letters. That was Cas’s idea. Mary almost immediately pulls out, supposing “the demon and his mommy” don’t sound so bad anymore. You hang back, watching the situation unfold. The two Brits, Mick and Ketch from what you gather, offer their services seemingly free of charge. They make a few phone calls, getting access to a satellite of the area Dean had mentioned. Mary and Cas are able to deduce the direction they’re headed and a good spot to meet them.

The two cars move to the new location and you all unload once again. You look up at the night sky and think about the last night you’d spend with Dean. He’d picked you up from the diner at closing time and drove you out of town to a remote location. You’d both laid on the hood of the car, splitting the last of the pie of the day.

“Y/N,” Mary says, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to face her and immediately launch into pleading again.

“Mary, please. I don’t want to wait here while you two go on…”

“Stop,” she says, holding her hand up. “That’s not what I was going to say. Dean’s already gonna be pissed we brought you. He’d kill us both if we left you with those two. Just stay close to us and if something goes wrong, run back here.” You manage a relieved smile and follow her and Cas further up into the woods.

The three of you come into a small clearing and it isn’t long before there’s a rustling in the brush. Cas and Mary both move into a defensive stance in front of you. You wring your hands as you wait. Cas takes a few steps closer to the noise just as Dean and Sam fall through the bushes. Your heart jumps into your throat at the sight of Dean and you almost break down crying right then.

“Sam, Dean,” Cas says, relieved. You can see the tension immediately leave Mary’s shoulders as she takes in the sight of her boys. Sam rises first and pulls Cas into a tight hug. His eyes land on Mary and he smiles.

“Mom,” he says, letting Cas go. He starts to make his way across the clearing towards her when you register the confusion on his face. Dean finally stands and hugs Cas as well. Sam pulls Mary into a tight embrace that she immediately returns. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“Y/N??” Dean’s voice rings across the clearing. You smile, swallowing back tears, and wave slightly. “The hell is she doing here??” His voice is thick with anger as he makes his way over to Mary. The venom in his words takes you by surprise. Mary raises her hands slightly.

“She was worried about you. Called your phone. I answered and she wanted to help,” she explains. You and Dean stand there, staring at each other. Dean’s eyes are full of a rage you can’t even begin to comprehend.

“How much do you know?” He asks.

“A lot more than I did a week ago,” you tell him. He shakes his head and looks to the sky before looking at his mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he mumbles, pulling her into a hug. She lets out a gasp of surprise and returns the embrace. Dean’s eyes never leave your face. “Let’s get out of here,” he says before walking straight past you.

You take a shaky breath and run your hands over your face. You had anticipated he’d be angry, of course. But you had hoped the joy of being together again would cancel that anger out at some point. Mary pats your shoulder before she starts to follow Dean. You debate on staying right there in the woods for a moment before falling in step behind them. Sam clears his throat slightly as you all walk.

“Mom, how did yall even find us?” He asks, attempting to break the tension.

“They helped,” she says, pointing to Mick and Ketch as they come into view.

“Dammit!! They know about her now too??” He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, get in the car.” You stare at him in disbelief for a moment. “Car. Now,” he demands. You wipe at your eyes furiously as you storm back to Mary’s car. Sliding into the middle of the back seat, you realize for the first time that the Dean you knew and this Dean, the real Dean, may not be the same person.

The five of them talk for only a moment before coming to the car. Cas takes the passenger seat quickly and Dean doesn’t hide the dirty look he gives him. You shake your head, unable to believe that having to sit by you in the car was that unsettling. Had you misinterpreted your entire relationship? Sam gets in on your other side and smiles at you, awkwardly.

“Y/N, wasn’t it?” He asks. You look at him and smile bitterly.

“Yes. It’s nice to finally meet you Sam. I’ve heard so much about you. And don’t worry. I know the feeling can’t be mutual. You’ve never heard of me before, have you?” You ask, letting your anger burst out for a moment. Dean’s hand tightens into a fist on his leg as he stares out the window. Sam’s awkward smile becomes apologetic before Mary changes the subject, filling them in on everything they’d missed.

Mary continues to drive on into the night. You catch Sam and Dean both nervously glancing at the clock at the front of the car. They seem to only be getting more anxious as the minutes tick by.

“So wait, you're hunting?” Dean asks his mother. She glances back at him in the mirror and shrugs.

“A little bit,” she says. Sam smiles and shakes his head.

“Yea, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he teases.

The exact second the clock switches over to 12:00, midnight, the car dies. Mary eases it onto a bridge as she tries the key again.

“It’s time,” Sam says, getting out of the car. You look at him then over at Dean.

“Stay in the car,” Dean tells you. Rolling your eyes, you slide out right behind him, tired of being ordered around tonight. The others all get out as well and look around, taking in their surroundings.

“What’s happening?” Mary asks.

“Yea, Dean. Sup?” A new voice says. You all look over to find a woman standing in the middle of the bridge. You look around, trying to figure out where she could have possibly come from. Dean takes an immediate step in front of you, shielding your entire body. Instinctively, you step closer to him, your hand coming to rest on his back, assuring him you were there and okay.

“Billie?” Mary asks, recognition and confusion mixed on her face.

“The reaper?” Cas asks. You close your eyes, trying to think back over your studies. It wasn’t one of things you’d become familiar with but gauging everyone’s reactions, this wasn’t a good thing.

“I don’t understand,” Mary says, shaking her head. Dean sighs and hangs his head.

“Mom, that place…there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing,” he starts to explain. You glance around at everyone and notice the horrified look on Cas’s face. “So I made a call.”

“Dean talked to her and then Billie came to talk to me,” Sam continues the story. “And we made a deal. We’d get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange…”

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently,” Billie says, smiling. “And that is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”

“No,” you whisper from behind Dean.

“Why would you –,” Mary starts.

“We were already dead,” Dean tells her. “Being locked in that cell with nothing…I’ve been to Hell. This was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting,” Sam finishes. You shake your head, taking a step away from Dean.

“No,” you say again. He looks over his shoulder at you and his anger has completely dissolved. “Dean, no.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Billie says, waving. You look at her in utter shock but Dean steps between the two of you again.

“Leave her out of this,” he growls.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas says, shaking his head.

“Yea, they do,” Billie says. “We made a pact bound in blood, You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?” She asks, looking between the brothers. Sam looks at Dean, then at you, and back to Dean who shakes his head.

“Me,” Mary says before either of them can answer. She turns to face Billie, pulling her handgun from her waistband. Sam and Dean both immediately object, stepping forward to stop her. Billie flings both of them away with a wave of her hand. You rush to Dean’s side and fall next to him, immediately checking him for injuries. He shakes his head and fights to rise to his feet again.

“You said come midnight, a Winchester dies?” Mary asks. “I’m a Winchester.”

“Works for me,” Billie says with a smile. Mary cocks the gun and raises it toward her head. Sam and Dean both object loudly again, fighting to get to her.

“I love you,” Mary sniffs. Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, a sharp pointed blade pierces through Billie’s chest from behind and she immediately falls dead. You stare in shock at the dead body lying before you. Cas stands over her, the blade in his hand dripping blood. Mary lowers her gun as Dean and Sam are finally able to get to their feet. Dean takes your hand, pulling you up as well. You begin to pale as you stare at the body.

“Cas, what have you done?” Dean asks, looking at his best friend in shock.

“What had to be done,” he says. “You know this world – this sad, doomed little world – it needs you…” Your ears begin to ring and you take a shaky step closer to Dean. His arm comes around your waist, eyes never leaving Cas as he continues to talk. Something about keeping all the Winchesters alive.

“Dean,” Mary says, pointing to you. “First dead body.” Dean looks down at you just as you go completely limp in his arms.

Dean runs his hands over his face before taking a long swig off his beer. A lot had happened in the last day; dying, coming back again, running, fighting for their lives, getting back to their family, you, Billie, you, Cas killing a reaper…you. That was really the only thing on his mind…you. He had so carefully built a relationship with you. A relationship based on half truths and secrets but a relationship nevertheless. Now, you knew the whole nasty truth. It was going to be Lisa all over again…

“Dean?” Mary asks, sticking her head into the kitchen. He glances over his shoulder and smiles a little. “Can I join you?” Nodding, he points to the empty seat across from him. She walks over, taking the seat quietly. He stares at the bottle in his hands. “Dean…”

“You shouldn’t have told her,” he tells her firmly. “It wasn’t your place. I didn’t want her to know. She was safer not knowing. Now…I’ll never see her again.”

“What? Why?” Mary asks, confused. Dean stands and throws his empty bottle into the trash.

“To keep her safe!!” He snaps, spinning on her angrily. “People around me don’t hang around too long. They either run or they die. It’s as simple as that. Especially the ones who mean the most to me. And she means…” He stops abruptly, emotion closing up his throat. Mary frowns as she stands and walks over to him.

“It only seems that way, Dean. Y/N, she’s…she’s strong. She took everything I told her in stride and she stayed. She stayed here with Cas and she’s been learning how to do the job,” she tells him.

“That’s even worse!! I don’t want her anywhere near this,” he says, fighting back tears. “If it was just normal hunter stuff then maybe but the stuff we deal with…Lucifer and Amara and God…I want her as far away from all of this as possible.”

“Don’t you think she should get a say in this?” Mary asks. He shakes his head, stubbornly.

“No. Soon as she wakes up, I’m taking her back home. I’ll never go back to that diner.. She’ll never see or hear from me again,” he says.

“What?” You whisper to yourself, standing just outside the kitchen door. You turn on your heels and rush down the hall towards the garage. Your car was there and you’d spent enough time at the bunker to know how to get out. You hadn’t heard much but you heard enough. Dean didn’t want to see you anymore, plain and simple.

***

Three months, five days.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw Dean. You’d left the bunker, rejected and heartbroken, and Dean had kept his word. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t come in for any pie. Life was back to normal. Boring, regular, normal. You found yourself reading into everything you saw on the news, wondering if it was a case Dean could be working at that very moment.

You’d volunteered to close down the diner for yet another night. Floors were mopped. Counters and tables wiped down. All you had left to do was lock up. Flipping off the lights, you step outside into the cool night air. You turn to lock the door when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. Damn it. You’d been so lost in thoughts about what you had believed was a werewolf in Michigan you hadn’t checked the parking lot first.

“Hello, love,” a heavy British accent says. There’s nothing familiar and certainly nothing friendly about the greeting. You stand frozen for a moment, weighing your options. You didn’t have many.

“We’re closed,” you say, not turning to face him yet.

“Not here for the pie,” he jokes. He’s closer than he had been.

“Look. My manager has already taken the deposit to the bank. I’ve got a few bucks in my purse and that’s it. I haven’t seen your face yet. You can turn around and leave, no consequences,” you tell him.

“Afraid not. Got a job to do. A message for your little hunter boyfriend,” he says. You let out a short laugh.

“You’re definitely barking up the wrong tree,” you say. His reflection is in the glass of the door now, standing right behind you. You take a deep breath and turn to face him finally. “Dean Winchester doesn’t care about me. Hurting me, won’t hurt him in any way.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, brandishing a knife. You bring your knee up, hitting him in the groin. He grunts and doubles over, giving you enough time to run towards your car. Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t slow him down enough. Before you can make it to the car, he’s grabbed you by your waist, knife at your throat. “Any last words I can pass on to the Winchesters?” He breathes in your ear.

“Go to hell,” you spit at him. You feel the knife press harder against your skin as angry tears slide down your cheeks. What a way to go. Dying for a man who couldn’t care less.

Before the Brit can finish you off, a car whips into the dark parking lot, lights shining bright on the two of you. It takes your attacker by surprise and you feel his grip relax just enough. A sharp elbow to his abdomen has him letting you go. You fall to your knees as you attempt to run away. The car skids to a stop and you hear the voice you’d only dreamt of hearing again.

“Y/N!!” Dean yells as he runs at your attacker. He tackles him, knocking the knife from his hand as the two men hit the ground. Mary runs to your side as Sam runs to help Dean. You weren’t sure why. Dean had the upper hand, sitting atop the man, punching him in the face. Repeatedly. That’s when you realize, Sam wasn’t helping Dean. He was pulling him off.

“Dean, it’s over,” he tells his brother. “He’s dead.” Mary helps you to your feet, examining you as Dean makes his way over, wiping his bloodied hand off on his shirt.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dean asks, taking your face in his hands. He looks you over and frowns at the knick on your neck. Running his thumb over it gently, he wipes the blood away.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, taken aback by his gentleness and concern. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into a crushing hug. You gasp and freeze before slowly returning the embrace. Mary touches Sam’s shoulder and nods back towards the dead body. They slip away to deal with that and give you two some privacy. “Dean…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I put you in so much danger,” he says, letting you go. “I didn’t know we were being watched. I didn’t know.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” You ask.

“The British Men of Letters. Turns out it was a join or die type of situation. They’ve been watching all of us for a while now. They knew about you before you ever knew anything,” he explains. “They had brainwashed Mom but we just got her back. Sam and Jody led a raid of the Brits’ headquarters. Saw the pictures of you, of us here. We got here as quick as we could.” He winces now and you finally register how badly beaten he looks.

“What happened to you?” You ask, knowing your attacker hadn’t even gotten one good swing in. He limps over to his car and leans back against the hood.

“Grenade launcher,” he says, pointing to his leg. “Bad fight with Ketch.” He points to the rest of himself.

“Gre...huh??”

“They locked us in the bunker. Shut off the air supply. It was our only way out. And it was freaking awesome,” he says, smirking now. You roll your eyes at him and try not to smile, fighting back that familiar feeling he always gave you.

“Well, thank you. I’ll be more careful. Try not to close up by myself anymore,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He nods slightly, watching you.

“Or you could come with me,” he says. You scoff a laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Dean. I’ll be fine,” you say.

“What?” He asks. You shrug, trying to give him a confident smile.

“I’m officially relieving you of the burden of my safety. Whatever happens to me, happens. Don’t let it get to your conscious,” you tell him, looking around for your purse.

“Y/N,” Dean says. He watches you walk over and pick up the discarded item. You throw it over your shoulder and look back at him. “Come here,” he says gently, holding a hand out.

“You don’t want me. I know that. Please stop this,” you say, looking down at the gravel under your feet. You hear him sigh and look up as he starts to limp towards you. “No. Stop. You’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes now before taking your face in his hands for the second time tonight. This time his eyes aren’t searching for injuries. They’re searching for answers.

“Why would you think I don’t want you?” He asks, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. You get lost in the green of his eyes for a moment before the memory of that night comes back.

“I heard you with Mary. You said I wouldn’t see or hear from you again. And I haven’t since I left the bunker that day,” you tell him, hating to relive those harsh words. He nods, his hands leaving your face. They don’t go far though, immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“Is that all you heard?” He asks. You nod, wishing he’d just let you go home instead of dragging this out. “I didn’t leave you alone because I didn’t want you. I left you alone because I needed to keep you safe, because I want you too much, because I care about you too much.” Your eyes fill with tears as you stare up at him. You had to have died and gone to heaven for him to be saying these things, the things you wanted him to say so desperately.

“You were so mad when you saw me…”

“Because I didn’t want you anywhere near this life. Hunting, especially the things we end up hunting, it’s dangerous,” he pauses and closes his eyes. “I had just made a deal with a reaper to die. Again. I’d already resolved myself to the fact I wasn’t going to get to say a proper goodbye to you, tell you how I felt, how happy you’ve made me over the past year…and then you were there, right smack in the middle of everything. I was furious, yea, but not at you. I was mad at myself. I never shoulda came back here to begin with.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, shaking your head. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the feel of his hands on your waist. That was good. That was right.

“I fell for you so hard that first night I came in for dinner. I was just supposed to come in, pick up something for me and Sam, and head back to the bunker. But when I walked in and saw you…I had to know you,” he recalls. “I thought a couple of visits couldn’t hurt. I could just be a customer, see you, talk to you. Maybe you’d eventually learn my name. That third time I came in and saw you getting ready to leave I was devastated. So I asked you to join me, thinking there wasn’t a chance in hell. You’d just gotten off work. Surely you wanted to get out of there and get home. But you stayed and you sat with me and…I knew I was in trouble.” You’re crying now. You don’t know exactly when the tears started but they were falling quickly. Dean brings one hand up and wipes at each of your cheeks gently. “And then you gave me your number…man, I almost called you from the booth,” he laughs. You do as well, reaching up and taking his hand. You press a kiss into his palm.

“I never knew what we were. I was so confused,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry. I kept going back and forth. I told myself it was too dangerous, you were safer as my friend. But then I’d get you alone, in my car and…” His hand tightens slightly on your hip and he pulls you impossibly closer. “I wanted you so desperately.” His voice dropped lower and his eyes bore into your own.

“I wanted you too,” you just manage to whisper. His forehead is touching yours now. Your eyes flutter close as his breath washes over your face.

“No more secrets,” he says before finally bringing his lips in to meet yours. This isn’t a gentle, chaste first kiss. Your lips move desperately against his as your arms wrap around his neck. It was everything you’d imagined and nothing like you could have dreamed all at the same time. His lips were chapped but gentle. He tasted of mint and whiskey. The way his hands moved over your back, one sliding just beneath your shirt to caress the skin at the small of your back, was intoxicating. You force yourself to pull away, remembering that his family was in the near vicinity.

“I have one secret,” you admit. He looks down at you expectantly. “I freaking hate this job.” He laughs and shakes his head, kissing you once more quickly.

“Sweetheart, I got bad news. That ain’t a secret,” he teases. You laugh too as Dean looks over your shoulder at the diner. “This place is gonna go under without your pie. It’s the only reason anyone comes back.”

“Including you?” You ask. His smile turns into a smirk as he looks back down at you.

“Why do you think I’m keeping you at the bunker?” He asks. Laughing again, you try to step out of his arms but they only tighten around you. His face is suddenly serious again as he watches you. “But only if you’re absolutely sure. I can’t stress enough how dangerous this life is.” You smile as you take his face in your hands.

“Dean,” you start. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, Dean kisses you once again.

You leave your diner key in the door and a note taped to the glass.

I quit. -Y/N

****

Tags: @roseblue373

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #sam winchester #mary winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #cas #castiel #right where you left me #dean x waitress

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vicsnook · 2 months ago

Text

Never Left Me Pt. 1 | Scott Miller x Reader

word count: 2330

warnings: arguing, Scott being Scott

notes: Hello! I’m still here y’all, just been dealing with a lot of personal stuff so haven’t been able to write as much as I’d like. But here is a little something for this brat of a man who had probably less than 10 minutes of screen time but continues to live in my head rent free. Hope you enjoy and part 2 will be up Sunday! As always, please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

A row of desks is all that stands between me and the man who I once thought might have a soul despite what everyone else said. Everyone that is sitting on the desks is thankfully too busy to see me coming and that’s how I make it past the receptionist and to his office.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Scott! You can’t go through with this!” I yell as soon as I walk in. The anger is still cursing through me from where I read the termination email.

His eyes lift up from the monitor and I can tell immediately by his expression that he is very displeased by my interruption. Well that makes two of us now, I think to myself.

“Sorry sir, she ran past me,” says the receptionist from behind me and I don’t need to turn around to know she’s giving me a nasty look.

He looks between us before waving her off. “It’s fine, Kathy. Please excuse us.”

“It’s one thing to have investors when you could do our research with grants and not have to be unethical.” I fume. “It’s another to let the biggest asshole in Oklahoma now own half the company and let him fire half of us without cause.”

He scoffs, not bothering to look at me. “I did what was best for the company. Sorry you didn’t make the cut. If you need any letters of recommendation, please let Kathy know.”

It takes everything in me not to walk over and smack the attitude out of him but I know I might need the stupid recommendation so I take a deep breath instead.

“Anything else? Or do I need to get security to escort you out?” He says, looking at me with those icy blue eyes that once gave me butterflies.

“When this inevitably blows up in your face, don’t bother to call.” I respond and walk out, not bothering to close the door on my way out which I know he hates.

The elevator is slow to get me to the lab where I pick up what little I keep in my office and then with one last look to the place that I once considered my second home, I start to head out. Taking down the picture of Javi, Kate, Scott, and I from the wall and throwing it in the trash can before I get on the elevator.

After eating way too much ice cream for dinner and playing darts with Scott’s picture attached to the board, I realize I have no idea what to do next. Only thing that’s for certain is that bills will pile up quickly if I can’t get another job soon though.

So I dial the only person I know might help me and hope my past job is something he can look past. Hope fills me up when he picks up on the first ring. His southern drawl already making me feel like things will actually be okay.

“Good lord, Y/N, as I live and breathe! What the heck are you doing here city girl?” Asks Boone, pulling me in for a much needed hug.

“Well the city didn’t really want me anymore so here I am.” I admit, looking at my feet as I blush in embarrassment.

Boone knows me too well and it won’t be long before I know I’ll have to keep him from punching Scott in the mouth. Even if he really deserves it. He sighs in response, looping his arm through mine and leading me to the rest of the team.

“Look at what the cat dragged in, come here girl,” Dani says, enveloping me into a hug that Lily is quick to join into. “Welcome aboard,” they whisper before pulling away.

“Alright, Alright, let’s not suffocate our newcomer. We still gotta show her the ropes.” He says, and I feel my heart begin to race. Damn you, Tyler Owens for having this effect on me, well actually, on most of the female population.

“Thanks again for the opportunity,” I say, turning around to meet his eye. The past couple of months definitely did him well, I think as I take in his physique.

“Don’t mention it.” He responds, leaving me to get acclimated with my new role in his team.

Soon enough we’re racing down the road to where a Tornado has begun to form but before we can turn into the street that will lead us right to it, the Scarecrow truck that I once shared with Scott cuts us off.

“God I hate that asshole,” Tyler mumbles as we resume our journey, now trailing Scott who can’t seem to pick a speed. “Turn left up here, then turn right before the dead end, it’ll put us right ahead,” I tell Tyler who is quick to follow instructions as I buckle into the harness and hold the steering wheel so he can do the same.

But the action is over before it’s even begun as the tornado quickly dissipates before it reaches us. Tyler and I look at each other and down at the computer which shows no other storms in the area today.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” I say, radioing the rest of the team who suggests heading to the diner down the road for dinner.

“So what happened between Kate, Javi, and Scott? Why did they take off?” Tyler asks, as he drives down the nearly deserted back roads that lead to the town.

“Scott had a majority share in Storm Par because of his uncle and after the stunt Kate and Javi pulled in Reno, he had them pretty much fired.”

“Well, I got that already from Kate and being there but why didn’t they come back?” He asks, and I know exactly what he’s really asking. Why did Kate ghost him?

But I don’t know how to tell him the truth. So I try to do the one thing I suck at. Lie. “They just got busy, I guess. Javi got a job with Kate last I heard and it just worked out better up there for them,” I say, avoiding eye contact.

“I bet it did,” he mutters, and I can’t help the guilty feeling in my stomach. But could he handle the truth?

We head up to Texas the following week and the ride is mostly silent except for me giving directions to Tyler every once in a while. I don’t think he takes up very well to lying since he’s stopped trying to make friendly conversation and will only talk about work.

The motel comes into view and it isn’t the nicest. But when are they ever nice?

Tyler hands me my room key and I grab my bag. It feels odd being here without the rest of the team but we need to be in two places at once sometimes to get our data.

“Hey Tyler, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for lying the other day. I really hate to start our work relationship on the wrong foot.” I say, as we walk up the stairs to the rooms.

“So why don’t you tell me the truth then?”

His green eyes lock on mine and I suddenly feel nervous. “Kate, she wasn’t ready to be here. After her and Javi got fired, they figured they could make a better difference up in New York working with NOAA.” His face twists into a frown. “For what it’s worth Ty, she almost came back for you but you’ve gotta understand after what she went through, she just wasn’t ready.”

“I just wish she would’ve called.”

“I’m sorry, Ty. But she’s coming to see her mom in a few weeks. Maybe show up? See what’s up?”

“I just might. Now go on and get some sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” He says, and I nod heading into my room.

“Ugh!” I grunt when my alarm goes off the next morning.

Why did I pick this job when I’ve never been a morning person?

I shower quickly and pack my dirty clothes back into my bag and as I put on my shoes there’s a knock on my door. He sure is punctual.

“Hey we’re getting some crazy weather east of here. You ready?” Tyler asks as soon as I open the door. “Yep, let me grab my stuff.”

By the afternoon we’ve already had two F1’s and a whole lot of data collected so Tyler decides we can head for some lunch.

The sight of the Storm Par truck is enough to make my appetite go away as I spot the scarecrow sticker on the back but nevertheless I follow Tyler in and order a burger.

“Hey I gotta make a call, I’ll be right back.” Tyler tells me and I’m left alone in the booth picking at my fries. Unfortunately for me it isn’t for long as Scott slides in to the seat across from me.

“Didn’t think you’d go work for the hillbillies,” he says, stealing one of my fries and I roll my eyes. “What the hell do you want Scott?”

“Just to offer you a job. I need a navigator.”

I scoff. “I told you I’m not working for you again.” I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse to look up.

“Suit yourself,” he says, sliding out of the booth and leaving me alone. God I cannot stand that man.

“Y/N! We gotta go!” yells Tyler, rushing back into the diner and I throw two 20’s on the table and run after him. Noticing Scott also getting up to follow.

The weather has changed in the little time we were in the diner. What was a clear sky is now dark gray and the rain starts to come down hard as I slam the truck door shut.

“It’s coming this way, look at the radar,” says Tyler as he shifts the truck in gear and soon we are speeding down the two lane highway. “Ty, it’s starting, oh God.”

The tornado is forming right ahead of us and as I stare at the screen in my laptop I realize it’s headed straight for the diner.

“Fuck, hold on!” yells Tyler, doing a U-turn and speeding back towards the diner. We need to move fast and get these people to safety.

I hop out as Tyler puts the truck in park and we rush back inside, Tyler yelling out to get to the back since there isn’t a storm shelter. People nearly trample us as they file into the back room.

I turn to the windows, the sound of the familiar sirens is almost deafening and that’s when I see him. Scott is pulling into the parking lot and the tornado is right behind him.

“Y/N! Get in here!” Yells Tyler but it’s muffled. My body is almost in autopilot as I sprint to the door to try to save the man who’d probably leave me for dead.

“Scott!” I scream, the rain is coming down harder and I can hardly see anything. The ground shakes beneath me but I push through to where I think I see him and we collide. “C’mon!” I yell as I pull him with me to safety and it’s like everything is in slow motion.

The windows burst into shards of glass and I duck, hoping Scott did too. My hand never leaving his as I continue to pull us inside and we make it, just barely.

He envelops me in his arms as the tornado goes over the diner and everything around us rattles. The screams of the people around us are terrifying and I think “Is this where we die?”

And just like that it’s over.

We survived.

I sit in a booth wincing in pain as Scott and Tyler pull glass shards out of my face and arms. The pain is nauseating and all I want is a shower and a nice bed.

“What were you thinking going after him?” asks Tyler when Scott walks back to the bathroom to get more paper towels.

“I wasn’t.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well that much is clear.”

I nod in agreement as he takes the paper towels from Scott and dabs at my cuts and I wince in pain.

“Yeah, you need to go back home and get some proper rest.” Tyler says, and shushes me before I can protest. “I’ll book you a flight tomorrow. Take a few days off. I’ll be back in Oklahoma by the time you’re good to go.”

I nod reluctantly.

“I can take her back, I’m heading back up tonight.” Scott says from behind Tyler and I stiffen at the suggestion. “Y/N, that's okay with you?” Asks Tyler looking at me and as much as I want to say no, I know if he doesn’t have to buy me a flight, he can use the money to help the community affected so I nod.

“C’mon I’ll take you back to the motel to get your things. Can you meet us there Scott?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he responds.

The car ride is silent other than the radio reporting the damages and all I can think of is wanting to stay but I know better than to argue with Tyler.

I slowly gather my things when we get to the motel trying to avoid spending much time with Scott. Why did I really go after him?

The hot water feels good on my skin as I wash away the blood and remaining pieces of glass. The alarm on my phone startles me and I step out knowing we have to go soon.

I wince as I apply ointment on my cuts then head out the door to meet Tyler and Scott.

“Drive safe!” Tyler yells as Scott pulls out into the highway and I know it’ll be a long six hours as he turns up the radio.

click here for part 2 🫢

#twisters #scott miller #scott miller twisters #slow burn #scott miller x reader #david corenswet

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janeyseymour · 7 months ago

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La Cosa Nostra- pt 13

(co-written with @schemmentis): Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Summary: You and your wife spend some much needed time together, only for it to go up in flames.

WC: ~2.5k

When Melissa comes in, she finds you with both arms wrapped around your girls, them curled into your sides. She sees the tracks of the tears that had been pouring down your face earlier in the night, the pout of your bottom lip, the way that even in sleep and holding your girls you seem to be in distress.

Melissa quietly gets ready for bed before slipping in between the sheets. Rosie gladly curls up to her when she gently shifts her to her chest so she can shuffle closer to you. The hand not resting on a small back reaches, the backs of her fingers lightly caressing your cheek, imagining she can wipe the now dried tears away from you. “Ti amo, vita mia.” She whispers in the dark of the bedroom.

You blink awake in the dark a few hours later. Your girls are still softly sleeping. You roll over and nearly start crying again when you see your wife asleep and holding Rosie. You knew she would be home, eventually. Still, seeing her is a relief. You curl in closer to her as you close your eyes again. Maybe you can get an hour or two of actual good sleep now that Melissa is here. Before your girls try to pry your eyes open again.

You somehow manage to wake before either of your girls, or your wife. You convince half awake twins to settle for kissing Melissa's cheek and whispering good morning before you get up and get them breakfast. You don't even have to remind them to be quiet when they go back to do the same to say goodbye before taking them to school. You know they miss her, even after only one late night. You do too. But you'd hate to take any more rest from her.

You hug the girls goodbye at school and are walking across the lot back to your car when your phone rings. Your brow furrows. Your phone hasn't rung since you were taken off the salon. You tug it from your pocket, your confusion growing at Tony's name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. Could you come down to the salon? It's kind of important.”

“Isn't all that your job now, Tony?” You all but sneer.

“Look, we gotta talk about some of the financials. So I need you to help me sort it out, alright?”

You roll your eyes. “I'll be there in a minute.” You reluctantly agree, hanging up before Tony can say anything else.

Despite you not being a part of the operation anymore, you still step through the back entrance of the salon. Tony wants to call you in? Then you're going to come in at the business end of it.

You stop halfway down the hall at the door of the back office being open. When it was you; you never left it open and unlocked. Too many important things were kept there. You glance inside, raising an eyebrow at the near emptiness of the office. The file cabinets are gone, and so is everything from on top of the desk. The room is empty aside from that desk in the middle of it.

“There you are.” Tony says as he turns down the hall. “C’mon.” He tugs you lightly by the arm into the office, shutting the door behind him.

“Quite the rearrangement, Tony.” You comment, putting your hands in your pockets as you pace around the desk. “What's goin’ on, huh? What'd you suddenly need me for?”

“The ledger.” Tony says, cutting to the chase. “We need the ledger for the other business.”

You look at Tony, head turning to the side. We? You think to yourself as you study him. Suddenly it's we. And you're not a part of that we. “No.” You finally say.

“What?? What d’you mean no? Look, Y/N, my ass is on the line now, and we need that ledger that you have to have.”

“Oh, I have it.” You say. For all intents and purposes, you do. Only you and your wife know where it is. “I just ain't giving it to you. Tell whoever you're answerin’ to that if they want it; they better talk to me directly. ‘Cause I ain't trustin’ it with you, Tony. I wouldn't have trusted you to balance the cash register drawer.”

He goes to argue, but your phone ringing interrupts him. You roll your eyes at him as you leave, answering it.

“Hello?”

“Babe, where are you? Why didn’t you wake me?” your wife nearly shouts into the phone. “I just woke up!”

“Honey, you needed the sleep,” you tell her softly.

“What I needed was to see my girls off to school and to check on my wife before heading into work- on time!”

Her shouting at you makes you tear up all over again as you slam the door to your car. “I’m sorry. I’ll come pick you-”

“Don’t even bother,” Melissa huffs. “I’ll walk the few blocks.” And then she hangs up on you.

Your heart nearly shatters in your chest, and your eyes instantly well up with more tears that threaten to spill over. “Mel,” you whisper out softly.

You do still drive the way to her work, and when you get there, she’s just storming in. It’s clear she’s on a warpath as she slams the back door and throws her bag on the chair in the office. You step in a few seconds later, sending a sympathetic look at Valentina; she looks horrified.

“Mel,” you whisper as you wrap your arms around her waist, trying to stop her anger. She just shrugs you off. “Mel, please.” Your voice breaks as your heart actually does shatter this time.

She turns around at the hiccup in your voice, and there’s a fire in her eyes that dies out as soon as she sees the redness in your eyes and the tears that are there.

“Mi amore,” she whispers as she pulls you in.

“Mel, I- I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry I didn’t wake you this-”

“Hey,” she hushes you gently. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I got so frustrated and yelled. I just… this all has me stressed to the max, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

You cry into her shoulder, and your wife is quick to kick the door shut with her heeled foot. You cry just as harshly and abrasively as you did last night, although this time you don’t have to stifle the sobs that come bubbling out of your body.

“Honey,” she whispers as she rubs your back soothingly. “Baby.”

“I- I don’t even know,” you continue to shake with the sobs that rack through your body.

It takes you much longer to calm down than she hopes. But eventually she does, and after checking her progress on the ledger, she ushers you out of the building. She shouts to Valentina that she’s in charge, at least for this morning, and if someone comes in with an envelope full of money to just leave it on her desk.

“Melissa, you can stay,” you whisper as you wipe at your nose with your sleeve. “I’ll be- I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Melissa answers, leading you to the passenger side of your car. “If anything big goes on; Val will call me. Right now, you’re more important, amore.” She squeezes the hand she’s been leading you out by lightly, her head nodding for you to get in.

It’s only once you do that she closes the door for you before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat. She reclaims your hand once you’ve buckled your seatbelt, kissing your knuckles as she pulls out of the parking lot.

“You really could have stayed.” You say quietly.

She squeezes your hand again, glancing away from the road just long enough to raise an eyebrow at you before looking back. “I’m not gonna leave ya when you’re clearly not okay. And don’t go saying you’re fine. I know when you’re lyin’, remember?”

You sigh, leaning back in your seat for the short drive back to your home. “I’m just…over emotional with all the changes. It’ll pass. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine, that much is true.” Mel agrees though she keeps a hold of your hand held in her lap. “But I’m not going to just expect this to pass. It’s been a lot lately, yeah. But it ain’t like you to just…” She sighs, without finishing. “You’re gonna tell me ya weren’t this way last night, too? Before I got home?” She asks softly instead, her thumb gently passing repeatedly over your knuckles.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Melissa nods, with a half grin on her face. “Which just means yes.” She says. “This is more than just everythin’ goin’ on- even if it has been a lot lately. For right now, stop tryin’ to fight me on stayin’ home, and consider talkin’ to me and lettin’ me help instead, huh?”

You don’t say anything else on the rest of the short drive. Instead, you consider everything over in your mind. As if you haven’t already a hundred times. By the time you’re following Melissa into the house, you could have another anxiety breakdown without much push.

You gladly slip into her side on your couch, her arms that had been held out in invitation instantly wrap around you. You sigh, though you don’t begin crying again. You return your wife’s embrace equally, clinging to her as much as you’re curling up to her side.

“Talk to me, tesoro.” Melissa repeats quietly, kissing your temple as she holds you close.

“Did Sammy tell you I almost turned myself in the other week? When they had you in the station?” You can guess her answer before she gives it based on how you feel her briefly freeze against you.

“No.” Melissa finally answers, one of her hands gently rubbing across your shoulders. “He didn’t. Probably ‘cause he already knew I was seconds away from tearin’ somebody to shreds that day. You really almost did?”

You nod, sniffling slightly. “I just…didn’t know what else to do. All this pressure on us and then gettin’ you so involved….them tearing apart Twelve Tables… God, that was as bad as watching somebody beat you, Mel. It’s like the same thing. You worked so hard for it and they ruined it because of me and—”

“Shh,” Melissa murmurs, tugging you into her lap to hug you even tighter. “None of it’s because of you, amore. We talked about all this plenty before we got serious, didn’t we? Then all over again before we got married? Don’t go actin’ like I’m some innocent little housewife over here, huh? You treat me better than that. You treat me like your partner, your equal, in everything. Includin’ all this. I knew what we were gettin’ into when we started, baby. We both did.”

“I know,” you mumble into her side. “But now... it’s so much more than just us and the business. We have your restaurant now. We have the girls now. The only thing that stopped me from turning myself in was the girls. I- I couldn't turn myself in and miss everything for the next ten to twenty years... the teen years, graduating and sending them off to college, high school boy or girl drama... potential grandbabies.”

“If either of them has a baby before they’re twenty, we are going to have problems,” Melissa chuckles lightly.

“Well... if I wasn’t there, you know that data shows kids with one absent parent statistically are more likely to fall into...”

“Not our girls,” your wife states firmly. “If anything happens to one of us, I have full faith that those girls will stay on the right track because of whoever is left with them.”

You just sigh into her, inhaling the scent of the perfume that she has on. You take a few shaky breaths, tears threatening to spill over again. They don’t though. You have your anchor right now.

“What do you need right now?” your wife asks you gently, once your breathing becomes more regulated. “Comfort, a solution, or to just... sit in the shit together?”

You shrug against her, and she only kisses your head as a response. You end up falling asleep, and when you wake up, Melissa is no longer next to you. In fact, the only reason you wake up is because your two tiny terrors are jumping on the couch next to you despite your wife’s quiet protests.

“Girls, let Mam sleep,” you can hear the redhead sigh as she drops their backpacks at the door.

“We are!” Rosie protests. “We just want to cuddle her and make her feel better after last night!”

Your response is to pull them both close to your chest with a soft sigh as you keep your eyes closed. “Mam needs some Cat and Rosie snuggles.”

“‘See?” Cat tells your wife pointedly. “Mam needs us!”

You hear Melissa’s low chuckle before she exhales quietly. “Is Mam going to be okay if I head to the restaurant?”

“Can we come with you?!” Rosie asks. “I miss Auntie Val.”

“Stay with Mam,” you tell them gently as you pull them further into your lap. “Cuddles, some pizza, and-”

“I only like the Pizza that Vince makes at the restaurant,” Cat tells you.

“We can order takeout from Mommy’s restaurant then,” you try to placate.

“Why can’t we just go there?” Rosie whines out as she tries to break free from your hold. For such a small little thing, she sure is strong. She ends up getting out of your restraint, and she’s quick to put her shoes on and grab her backpack before taking hold of Melissa’s hand.

“Girls, why don’t you... go grab some coloring sheets and crayons from the basement?” your wife suggests. They run off.

“They are not going to the restaurant now that it’s the front,” you tell her.

When you expect your wife to agree, she merely shrugs. “There are usually other kids with their parents, and the guys drop off in the back.”

“Melissa!” you say sternly. “My girls are not going to a front!”

“They are our girls,” she tells you firmly. “And I think... I think that if they’re at the restaurant, and the Feds show up, having the girls there will help fool them into thinking we aren’t up to anything.”

“Melissa.”

She just shrugs. “You want them off our backs? I think this is the best way to get them off our backs.”

You go to protest her idea again, but the girls come running back with new boxes of crayons and a multitude of coloring sheets in their hands.

“Come on, sweet things,” she says softly. “We can all go to Twelve Tables.” The redhead takes both of their hands, grabs their backpacks, and leads them out the door. You fume as you follow behind her. You can’t believe she would go against your wishes and make such a big decision on her own.

Tags: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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stormblessed95 · 3 months ago

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Okay so I’m on my fourth watch of the travel show

It gets better the more you watch, they are just so much fun

They have me smiling from ear to ear the whole way through

I know there is a lot of conversation about the car conversation but seriously, apart from Jungkooks beautiful ‘finally’ (and I’m glad that is in English so we hear it without mistranslation), what struck me upon this watch, is that he could actually mean them being in content together.

Hear me out, but the kid spent the better part of the first half, and even to a degree still asking in the later half, of 2023 begging to go live with Jimin, inviting him over on lives. Including the bed begging live days after this filming, and now I’m framing it that he was probably thinking they have filmed this show, why can’t they have a live? I know that the show wasn’t going to be aired straight away but I can totally see him going with that thought.

But it just struck me, he’d been asking and probably denied so many times, whereas Jimin had gone live with Yoongi and Hobi etc during work promotions, but denied JK. This was his olive branch, his two birds one stone, a trip for them to spend time together when free, but also for them to be alone in content (albeit airing a year later atp). If we remember too that they could not leave SK without work and a permit, the chicken and egg, hence the show. Jimin had the time at that point to plan it with the company, it makes sense he pushed it, though I’m sure Jungkook was involved too.

People are moaning about Jungkooks attitude and they are so wrong and miserable, not to mention they misunderstand him. They guy is glowing with his Jimin, he’s being cheeky and kids around and it’s so beautiful to see it. To see their dynamic, as they are.

Seeing them say they hasn’t planned another trip in NY, and the Forbes article said this too, they must have thought it a success enough to plan jeju and so on. I think a post from another blogger here also helped frame this for me, bc at the end of the day they talked about and proposed the show, just the two of them, to the company and needed a deliverable product. This involved planning to a degree, scouting locations and a vague idea of activities. They definitely had more freedom than Bv, and they had to rely on their natural chemistry, which is there in spades, but they still had to deliver/ this is where Jimins panic comes in when he is sick, bc he has to power through to make the show work, hence the are you sure? It’s so logical when I think about it all in that framed way.

And mainly I think this also because they do not present as people who had had a falling out, or massive distance, or had issues, or something more ridiculous people are proposing. I mean logically do we really think Jimin (sensible Jimin) would even think it a good idea to do this if there was bad blood or feelings. Exactly, he would not. There was no tension there, not that I saw anyway. They just vibe with each other. They present as pretty domestic, in tune and loveable goofballs.

Also when you think about MS application being a month after this, they had to have seen and spoken to each other, it’s a complete reach to think they didn’t. Also, it’s their habit, Jimin literally said the same sentence in the very brief restaurant scene, that JK says to him in the doc and we know that was a complete fib. Also I feel the way JK looks at the camera in that scene and in the hand holding scene is very telling about how he felt around the cameras at first, especially when Jimin touches his throat, like he hesitated.

I also hold in mind that at the end of the day we got about 5/10% of their time on screen, the rest is on the cutting room floor, and also probably not even filmed (esp given Jimins condition). Leaving them plenty of time for them.

Just my thoughts.

#catching up on asks i missed from the first two episodes #sorry it took me so long anon #you got momentarily lost #jikook #kookmin #jikook are you sure #jikook travel show #jikook in 2023

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

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Yearling - Ch. 11: Touch

Ellie helps you recover from your discovery in the wilderness. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-10 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 8.5k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The pounding on your front door broke you out of the daze you’d been stuck in for who knows how long.

You were in the closet under the stairs, curled up on the mattress, staring at the wall. That’s all you’d really done besides work at the stables since coming back from the run to find the feral horses. It had been just over a week. Or you thought so, anyway. Time had warped, condensed and extended and melted and combined. You’d worn the same clothes for at least three days at one point. Maybe longer. You weren’t entirely sure. Getting changed required time and effort and energy you just didn’t have. So did playing guitar and going to the mess hall for food and anything but working with the new horses, really. And that you only did because it was cruel not to, stealing wild and free things just to imprison and neglect them. They had to be trained and taught so you did. You just weren’t thrilled about it.

“Bambi!” Ellie called, pausing the pounding for a moment. “I know you’re in there, lemme in!”

You groaned.

“C’mon,” she called. You suspected she had her face pressed to the glass of your front door from the sound of it. “I’m not leaving until you answer!”

You shoved yourself out of bed and drew Joel’s shirt tight around your front, heading for the door. You were right, Ellie’s face was pressed against the glass. With a resigned sigh, you opened the door.

“About fucking time,” she said, pushing past you and into the house like she lived there.

“Oh excuse me for not running on your schedule,” you rolled your eyes, closing your door behind her and trialing behind her to your living room. “Look, Ellie…”

“Here,” she dropped her backpack onto your couch and rifled through it until she found a CD and she pressed it to your chest. “Educate me.”

“Um,” you took the CD and Ellie crossed her arms, her brows up expectantly. You looked at her for a moment before looking down at the case. The cover was cracked and the booklet warped and water damaged but you recognized it. “This is The Smiths by… well, The Smiths. They’re great, you’ll like them. This Charming Man is on this one, it’s one of my favorites.”

You held the CD out to her. She just looked at you.

You sighed.

“Ellie…”

“I could have just listened to it without you, you know,” she said. “Didn’t want to. Tell me about the music.”

“Well, Johnny Marr is amazing…” you trailed off, looking at the CD for a moment before looking back at Ellie. “Look, kid, can we do this another time?”

“No.”

“I’m just…”

“I haven’t seen you in like a week and a half,” she said, her expression oddly soft. “Not really, just at the stable where you say like three words to me and I thought maybe you were mad at me or something…”

“Oh, honey, no, I’m not…”

“I know,” she cut you off again. “Because I actually went and talked to Joel. Fucking Joel. And it turns out you’re just not talking to anybody right now, you’re doing that whole ‘Hi, I’m Bambi and I don’t need people I’m going to just hide in my house’ thing you do and you know what? It fucking sucks, OK? Because you have people who care about you now, you let us be friends with you and then you just decide to go hide and not tell any of us why and make us worry and it’s shitty. You’re being shitty. You’re supposed to let us help you.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment, your arm propped on the one around your waist.

“Look, Ellie,” you said, dropping your hand away from your face again. “You’re a kid, alright? You’re a really fucking great kid but you’re a kid. It’s not your job to deal with my shit.”

“Well, you’re my friend,” she stuck her small chin out, defiant. “And I don’t know about you but I help my friends.”

You shook your head.

“I’m old enough to be your mom,” you said. “It’s different.”

“Fine,” she said. “Don’t talk to me about it then. But we’re going to dance party about it. Because I want to. And apparently I’m a fucking kid which means I get what I want.”

You just raised your eyebrows, skeptical. Her face softened again.

“C’mon,” she said. “The dance party thing helps. You know it does.”

You sighed - a little dramatically, maybe, but purposely - and went to the stereo to put the CD in.

“I’m skipping to my favorite song then,” you said. “We’ll give you a full education on The Smiths and Johnny Marr another day.”

She smiled.

“Hell yeah.”

You hadn’t ever expected Ellie to be the one making you dance around your living room but it made you oddly happy that she wanted to, that she saw it as a solution.

Up until now, you’d been the initiator of the dance parties. The first time was after a movie night. You’d stayed at the back, next to Joel, and, at the end of the night, watched as Ellie’s face fell when her friend Dina leaned in and kissed her other friend, Jesse, on their way out of the hall.

“Oh, I forgot, I have something for Ellie,” you said, looking up at Joel. “Think I’ll drag her to my place. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let me… let me know how she’s doin’?”

“I will,” you smiled a little and jogged to catch up with the teenagers, falling into step next to Ellie.

“Hey kid,” you said. “I have a CD for you, you free?”

“Oh, um…” She looked at Jesse and Dina, talking the way couples do, before looking back to you. “Sure. See you guys later?”

She said her goodbyes and followed you home, a little distracted the whole way.

“So,” you said as soon as it was just the two of you in your living room as you looked for a CD. “How long have you had a crush on Dina?”

“Only for…” She froze, eyes wide before looking up at you. “Wait, no, I…”

“What?” You asked, finding a Weezer album.

“Dina’s a girl.”

“Your observational skills are top tier, kid,” you said, turning on the stereo. “Should put you out on patrol as soon as possible.”

“I just…” She looked at the ground. “I don’t…”

“You like girls, right?” You shrugged. “That’s OK.”

She was quiet for a moment before she sighed.

“Doesn’t feel OK,” she kicked the ground a little. “Feels fuckin’ shitty.”

“Why?” You asked, putting the CD in. “Because people think you shouldn’t like girls or because you’ve got a crush on Dina?”

“Look, it’s not that big of a deal,” she said after a minute. “And it’s not like I’m Dina’s type so I should just get over it and move the fuck on.”

“Who says you’re not her type?”

“Uh, me,” she looked at you like you were nuts. “Because I’m a girl, in case you hadn’t fucking noticed. Dina likes boys, she’s made that very clear.”

“She can also like girls,” you shrugged. Ellie looked skeptical. “Kid, if you can’t like boys and girls, someone’s going to need to explain something to me and my ex boyfriends and ex girlfriends, alright? I’m not saying Dina will ever be into you. She’s an idiot if she’s not but that doesn’t mean she will be. I’m just saying don’t write her off because she likes boys.”

You pressed play on the stereo.

“This is Weezer,” you said. “Which, as it happens is excellent dance party music.”

“The fuck do you mean dance party?”

“I mean,” you said, taking her hands and tugging her to the middle of the living room before shoving the coffee table to the side. “Sometimes there’s not a damn thing you can do about shit and, when that happens but you still feel like you want to do something, you dance party about it.”

“This sounds dumb.”

“It’s not. Stay put.”

You went back to the stereo and skipped ahead to Buddy Holly and started just kind of bouncing to the beat, just like Marisa had first done with you in your cabin almost a decade and a half before. She’d been trying to pull you out of your own head after a particularly bad day on both the trapping and horse training fronts.

“You carry that shit in your body, Baby,” she said as you hummed Tubthumping - because that was what Marisa wanted to dance to and you’d give her just about whatever she wanted. You rolled your eyes as she put her hands on your hips and made them twist in time to the song. “Gotta shake it out before it eats you up.”

But she was right, it did feel better when you moved your body. So you’d kept doing it, even after Marisa left. Though it was definitely better when you had access to electricity and a stereo.

Ellie watched you skeptically and you took her hands again, pulling her in toward you before stepping back out again. She made a face but started bouncing a little on beat.

“There we go,” you smiled, still holding her hands until she was fully into it. By the time you let her go, she was jumping and yelling along with the music. The two of you moved without any thought or plan to it until Ellie collapsed, breathless, on your couch. You turned down the stereo and flopped on the loveseat.

“Better?” You asked, a sticky sheen of sweat on your skin.

“Weirdly yes,” she said, sinking back into the couch. “Still shitty but… it’s better.”

Now, it was Ellie trying to get you to dance.

You pressed play and checked the back of the CD for the track number before skipping ahead. You turned up the volume and Ellie pursed her lips, nodding a little, analyzing it.

“So who is Johnny Marr?” She asked.

“Guitarist,” you said. “Obviously. Lead singer is Morrissey but he’s kind of a dick. Or was, I suppose, he’s probably long dead.”

“Or being a dick as an infected,” she smirked a little, taking your hands the same way you’d done with her the first time you were trying to get her to dance in your living room. You let her move your arms and you started bouncing a little to the music. She smiled and let your hands go and, for a moment, it was like your brain switched off. You jumped and moved your arms and let yourself go out of control, all this anger and hurt and despair that had been building and building inside of you since you’d found your home burned to the ground and lost any hope of finding everything you’d lost suddenly spilling out of you. You weren’t sure how long you were dancing like a maniac, just that, when you finished, you grabbed a pillow off the couch and screamed into it until there was nothing left inside you and you collapsed, body limp.

Ellie went and turned the music down before flopping next to you. You looked at her and she dropped her head to your shoulder.

“Better?” She asked, breathless.

“Yeah,” you panted, resting your head on hers. “Thanks kiddo.”

“Still not going to tell me what it is, are you?” She asked.

You sighed.

“I went back to where I used to live,” you said, picking your words carefully. “There was… I was hoping to find… I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s gone now and I hadn’t expected that and… It’s been hard.”

“What’d you lose?” Ellie asked. “I’m sure we could find it or something like it…”

You laughed once, a little darkly.

“Not really something you can replace,” you said. “But I appreciate the thought.”

“Shitty,” Ellie said.

You smiled a bit. She was a blunt little thing, you’d give her that.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Was life shitty before?” She asked. “Before the outbreak, I mean. Like I know shit wasn’t great all the time but…”

You frowned for a second.

“It had its moments,” you said evenually. “You still lost what you cared about the most sometimes. But it wasn’t like it is now, out there. Jackson’s better, at least.”

Ellie sighed heavily, sounding far too sad and almost guilt ridden for someone so young.

“Hey,” you elbowed her lightly. “Still want to learn more horse shit?”

“Yes,” she shifted so she was looking at you again. “Are they getting to the point that you’ll let me work with them?”

“Not quite,” you said and she visibly deflated. You laughed a little. “But if you want to come practice, help keep the horses we already have trained up in good shape…”

“Yeah?” She asked, her face lighting up a bit. “Can I come by tomorrow?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. “I’ve been focused on the new additions, anything you want to do with the rest of the group is welcome.”

She hung out for a little while longer, just talking. You had a hard time fully paying attention, you had to ask her to repeat a few things. It was like your mind was fogged, like you were trying to see through haze or hear through a dull roar. But Ellie didn’t complain, going back over whatever you asked.

When you walked her out, you felt exhausted but better than you had in a while. A low bar, but you’d take what you could get.

“You’re not going to like… run away or some shit right?” Ellie asked as she stood on your porch. You frowned and went to answer, but she didn’t give you the chance. “I don’t care about a lot of people, OK? But just about all of them have fucking died or left me and I’m really tired of losing fucking everybody. So if you could just…”

“I’m not planning to leave, kiddo,” you cut her off, smiling as much as you could. “You’re stuck with me.”

She nodded for a second before she was quickly, suddenly, hugging you. It surprised you for a second, her small, warm body against yours. There was a shock of fear for a moment but you put your arms around her, anyway, and the feeling faded. When she stepped back, she had her usual Ellie expression. Like nothing could get to her.

“Good,” she said, shoving her hands in her pockets and turning to leave before she turned around. “Right, I forgot, Joel said he missed you. And that he’d be at the mess hall early tomorrow for breakfast. Not that I really care but… I can count on one hand the people who are alive today that man gives a shit about and you’re one of them. So… Maybe go to breakfast tomorrow. Early.”

You smiled a little.

“Right,” you said. “Not that you care but… I’ll try. Really.”

“Cool,” she smiled a little. “Nice to actually see you again, Bambi. Try not to ditch me again.”

You were exhausted but had a hard time actually falling asleep. You hadn’t been this… conscious since you’d gotten back to Jackson. It was like Ellie had dragged you out of a stupor you hadn’t fully realized you’d been in. Now that everything wasn’t dulled and hazy, there was an ache in your chest that radiated out through everything. You tried not to think about what was lost - tried to remember that you hadn’t been there in years, nothing had really changed just because you’d seen it. Tried to remind yourself that it had been a long shot, anyway. That you hadn’t really expected to find anything useful, anyway. You’d gone on the off chance that you would.

It was still devastating.

You let yourself cry for a bit before your mind drifted to other things, things Ellie had talked about. That you had people here, people you’d all but abandoned in the last week.

It should have occurred to you sooner. You’d thought of both Joel and Ellie but you hadn’t really realized that they would think of you, too.

But a new shirt from Joel had shown up, wrapped in paper, on your porch a few days earlier. You’d barely taken it off since, the warm scent of him wearing off faster than usual this time around. It should have at least crossed your mind then that Joel was still thinking about you, even as you’d been actively avoiding him. Not because you didn’t want to see him or be near him but because you were worried it would hurt too much, that he’d see right through you and call you on your bullshit.

You owed it to Joel to at least talk to him, you realized now. He’d made it very clear that he cared about you - all but shouted it, really - and you’d just cut him off. Ellie was right, you were being shitty.

It was still dark when you went to the mess hall, the town still sleeping. You headed there slowly, kicking rocks in the dirt and fidgeting with the sleeves of Joel’s latest shirt as you walked. You leaned against the wall of the hall, near enough to the doors that you could see them but far enough away that it was unlikely anyone would come talk to you, and you waited, arms crossed over your chest.

You tried to not think about it, still adjusting to the new level of consciousness as you emerged from the fog. Instead, you looked up at the constellations, the twinge of sunrise on the horizon.

You heard Joel before you saw him, his heavy footfalls on the rocks oddly loud in the quiet of the early summer morning. You found him then, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped, turning down the road you were on. He looked almost sad and you hated that you might have something to do with that.

You pushed yourself off the wall and stood there, arms crossed, watching him. He noticed you quickly and, even from a distance, you saw him smile a bit, walking a little faster. You met him in the street in front of the mess hall, lips drawn into a tight, awkward smile.

“Hey,” you said, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Hey,” he smiled wider, standing so close to you that you could feel the heat of him on the morning air. It was alluring, magnetic. You wanted to fall into it and be absorbed by it. “How’ve you been doin’? Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you said looking at his chest instead of directly at him. “Joel…”

You trailed off, not really sure what to say or how to say it.

“S’OK,” he said gently. You looked up at him. His eyes were tender and soft, crinkled at the edges. “Really.”

You nodded and swallowed past the pinch of tears at the back of your throat, leaning forward until you were against him. He didn’t even hesitate, his arms wrapping around you, one hand on the back of your rib cage, the other cradling your head to his chest. You pulled your hands from your pockets and clung to him, fingers clutching onto his broad back and a sob slipped free, one that made it hard to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembled and he stroked your hair. “I didn’t think and…”

“I said it’s OK because it’s OK sweetheart,” he said softly, his hand keeping a steady, grounding rhythm over you. “As long as you’re alright, that’s all I care bout.”

He held you like that for a while, until the edge of the sky was pink with a cotton candy dawn and you broke away from him, wiping your eyes on your shirt sleeves.

“Think I soaked your shirt,” you sniffed, laughing a little. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t mind,” he said, voice a little rough. “Just… glad to see you again.”

You nodded and sniffed again.

“You too.”

Things were a bit easier after that. Your life had been strangely off kilter without Joel in it, you were just still so accustomed to weathering it alone you hadn’t fully realized why. It was a natural pattern to fall back into, being next to him again, talking to him again, touching him again. When you went by his house that night, he brought out the guitar but you didn’t take it. Instead, you sat next to him on the porch, your head on his shoulder as the crickets chirped and the wind rustled in the fullness of summer leaves. He played Blackbird and you sang quietly along, relishing making something with him, being a part of something with him.

It was better because of Ellie, too. She came by the barn every night for the next two weeks and dove right into helping with the other horses, taking a different one out every day to give it a work out, focusing on ones that hadn’t been on patrol in a few days.

She even liked watching you work with the other horses. The stallion, Ares, was feisty. He was pushing back on you every step of the way, reminding you of Triton on your father’s ranch when you were a girl.

He was taking a lot of work and you were having to coax him to where you wanted him to be. You knew better than to try and force him. He was like a teenager in that way, he’d push back on something you required just because you required it. He seemed to resent captivity, seemed to resent you. You had to wear him down, bit by bit.

You got him to saddle broke and decided to try him with a rider, something Ellie was especially interested to watch.

“You cannot do this,” you said sternly as you got in position to mount him. “I mean it, Ellie, do not even think about tryin’ this, you hear me?”

“Yeah yeah,” she said. You could hear the eye roll in her voice. “And how old were you when you broke your first horse?”

“That’s different,” you said.

“You say that a lot.”

“Because it’s true,” you said, offering Ares your palm. He sniffed it and huffed for a moment before he pressed his velvet muzzle into your hand. You curled your fingers gently over him and gave him a scratch. “I was on a horse before I could walk. This guy is dangerous. Do not - and I mean do not - go anywhere near him without me. Say you understand.”

“I understand, Jesus,” she rolled her eyes again. “I swear, Bambi, sometimes you feel like my fucking mom…”

“That’s because I’m old and I’m bossing you around,” you said, climbing the fence post and putting your hands on his saddle. “Don’t come in here while I’m workin’ with him, get ready to jump on the other side of that fence.”

“I heard you, damn.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, a new appreciation for the grief you’d given your family when you’d started climbing on the backs of unbroke horses as a child. You jumped on Ares’ back and he whinnied, immediately trying to buck you off. You got a good hold with your boots, heels dug low in the stirrups, and you let your hips go loose while holding on with your legs. He got a good jerk in and the hand not holding the reins flew down to the back of the saddle, holding on tight as he stomped and hurled his massive body through the air.

He tried to throw you for what felt like forever but, eventually, he started losing steam. You took advantage of the lull and moved the reins down into a one rein stop, forcing him to circle, his feet still stomping impatiently.

“There we go,” you said soothingly, gently, loosening your legs’ grip on his ribcage. “You’re doing so good, Ares. Just my best boy, that’s what you are…”

It took a few minutes for him to calm entirely but he did, still tossing his head periodically as he walked around the outer edge of the paddock. Every now and then he’d think he had you, try and buck again, but you were getting better at reading him. You could tell when you needed to hold on, when he was going to act out. He wasn’t heeding real commands yet, but he was at least starting to tolerate you on him. You’d take that.

“Is it OK if I go get Shimmer?” Ellie called after a few minutes.

“Should be safe,” you said, staying focused on Ares. “By the time you get her saddled, I’ll be wrapping up with this guy, anyway. Don’t wanna push him too hard.”

You stayed on the horse, letting him control things for the most part, starting to try to nudge him this way and that with your legs and by shifting your weight, when you heard raised voices inside the barn. One of them was Ellie.

You got off Ares faster than you should have considering his lack of training. He stomped and bucked as you moved, making you fall off him and land with a thud in the dirt. You scrambled to your feet, dodging his massive hooves and left him to run the paddock alone, racing for the source of the noise.

“Fuck you, motherfucker!” Ellie was yelling at Simon. The man towered over her but she didn’t seem to give a shit, hurling her little body at him, shoving him back and before advancing on him again, getting in his face. “You don’t get to just say that shit…”

“Hey!” You snapped, grabbing Ellie and putting her on the other side of you so you were between her and the man who stood there, his eyes narrowed at her. “Want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?”

“This little…” Simon began but Ellie cut him off.

“He was saying some bullshit about you to his stupid friend,” she jerked her chin at another man who was in the corner, looking like he wanted to stay out of it. You were pretty sure his name was Ben but you weren’t sure. He was relatively new to town, the man Tommy had been patrolling with while Joel was with you. “He can’t just say that shit!”

“Ellie,” you said gently. “Don’t need you to pick fights over me…”

“I didn’t pick shit,” she snapped, lunging for him again. You caught her, throwing your arm out across her stomach. “He called you a stupid cunt, fuck him!”

You looked at Simon, brows raised.

“I’m a stupid cunt?” You asked. “Love to know where you got that idea, especially since I doubt you’d know what a cunt looked like if one smacked you in the face.”

There was a twinge in his jaw. You waited for him to talk. This wasn’t anything new for you, though it had been years since you’d had to deal with this kind of shit. You’d been the only woman on the ranch you worked on and none of the men ever wanted to listen to a damn thing you had to say. You always had to make them. But by the time you were done with them, they listened. Whether they liked it or not, they listened.

“It’s bullshit you’ve got some fuckin’ kid in here working with the animals,” he bit out. “She doesn’t know jack shit, I ran this stable for years before you showed up and you’ve got me in here mucking goddamn stalls when I’m working here instead of…”

“Instead of you fucking up my fucking horses?” You finished for him, crossing your arms and stepping closer to him. “If you don’t like the way I run this goddamn stable you can get the fuck out. Any idiot can muck a stall, that’s why I’ve got you doin’ it. Can’t trust you with fuck all else, you proved that. These animals are my responsibility and I’m not about to entrust them to someone who can’t tell his head from a hole in the ground. When you’re here, you do what I fuckin’ say so you can either get with the program or drag your sorry ass over to Maria and explain why you’re not allowed in the stable anymore. And I swear to God I hear you raise your voice to a kid again I will put my boot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather for a week, do I make myself clear?”

He looked like he wanted to hit you. You planted your feet.

“Try it,” you snapped. “I’ve killed bigger assholes than you.”

He glared at you, grinding his teeth, before he stomped off, the other man trailing behind him. Ben caught your eye as he passed and you frowned, watching him. It was the first time you’d been close to him at all, the first time he’d made eye contact with you, and there was something familiar about him but you couldn’t place why. You shook yourself mentally before looking back to Ellie.

“You OK?”

“Fine,” she was watching the doorway, her eyes narrowed.

“Next time, just get me,” you said, dropping your arms and trying to release some of the tension in your body. “I’ve been dealing with idiots like that since before you were born, it don’t bother me.”

“He shouldn’t get to just say that shit,” she snapped. “He’s a dick.”

“He’s a dick,” you agreed. “But, in the grand scheme of things, some asshole calling me a cunt is nothing. Not worth you getting hurt over, alright? But I appreciate the thought.”

Ellie shrugged.

“He should just be thankful Joel didn’t hear that shit,” Ellie laughed once, darkly. “He’d be dead.”

“And that’s definitely an overreaction,” you smiled a little. “You saddle up Shimmer, I’m going to bring in Ares before there’s any more trouble here today.”

Joel met you at the barn to go to dinner and Ellie was still there, putting Shimmer’s tack away. You were prepared to try to run interference but, it turned out, it wasn’t necessary.

“Hey Kiddo,” Joel said, giving her a soft smile.

“Hey,” she said, taking the bridle off the horse. You glanced at Joel, your brows up, trying not to freak out. It felt like she might startle if you spoke too fast or reacted too big, like she was a wild animal who needed coaxing.

“How’ve you been doin’?” Joel asked, voice almost disturbingly calm, all things considered.

“Alright,” she shrugged. “How about you?”

Joel was quiet for a moment, clearing his throat. When he spoke, his voice was thick.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged. “Doin’ OK.”

“Good,” Ellie nodded. “That’s… that’s good.”

“School goin’ alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly. “Been reading some cool stuff so…”

“That’s good,” he replied. “You should tell me about it sometime. If you want. I’d like to hear about it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, hanging the last of the tack on the wall. She looked at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yup,” you nodded. “See you then.”

She looked at Joel again.

“See you,” she said, not waiting for him to reply before leaving the barn. Joel just stood there, watching where she’d walked for a moment, almost like he was waiting for a ghost to return.

“Joel,” you said after a moment, pulling him out of it.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat before looking at you. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, going and standing close to him. “You?”

“Didn’t think she’d actually talk to me,” he said, looking back toward the door again. “I’m gonna keep tryin’ even if she never does but… Damn, it was nice to actually get somethin’ out of the kid.”

You put your hand on his back and ran it over him gently. He took a deep breath, one you could feel below your palm. You rested your head against his arm, hoping that having someone close was a help and not a hindrance.

“C’mon,” he said, slipping an arm around you, his hand finding the curve of your waist as he squeezed you against him. “Let’s go.”

At the mess hall, it was business as usual with Ellie. She was sitting with her friends - including Dina - and ignoring Joel. The two of you sat with Tommy, Maria and William and you were laughing at some smart ass comment Tommy made when Ben ran over to the table. He put his hand in the middle of your back, making you stiffen.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said quickly, his eyes wide. “Went back to the stable, left something there earlier, and there’s something wrong with that new stallion, he’s thrashing something fierce, I’m worried he’s going to hurt himself…”

“Shit,” you said, jumping up. Joel went to follow you but you waved him off. “No, stay put, I’m the only one he knows, you won’t be any help. I’ll see you later.”

You didn’t wait for a response, just running for the stables, Ben at your heels.

It was quiet when you got there, dark. You frowned. Ares might have calmed himself down but that seemed unlikely.

“What…” you began but the stable door closed and latched, the sound heavy behind you.

You spun quickly, heart pounding, suddenly sharply alert.

“Hello, cunt.”

***

Joel felt uneasy. He couldn’t put his finger on why but something wasn’t right.

“Joel.”

Tommy snapped him out of his own head.

“Sorry, yeah,” Joel said. “What was that?”

“Next week, you and Bambi, overnight patrol,” he said. “Think that’ll work?”

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be fine, she’s more than ready for it, so long as she’s not too exhausted from the extra shit at the stables…”

“I’ll check in,” Tommy said. “See if things are at a point where she can take a few days, I know she’s been going pretty non-stop over there.”

“Yeah,” Joel said again, looking back toward the door you’d ran out of.

Tommy sighed.

“Yo, space cadet.” Joel looked at him. “You’re literally on another planet. Just go find her before you pull your fuckin’ hair out. That’s the last thing you got goin’ for you, can’t afford to lose it all to stress.”

Joel just nodded, looking back toward the door, too busy fighting off the growing anxious feeling in his chest to give Tommy shit back.

“See y’all later,” he said, not even looking back at Tommy and Maria. He had to try not to run through the mess hall. Something was wrong. He could feel it, the thrum of it in his body, on the air.

Once he was on the street, he ran the short distance to the stables. When he got there, the door was closed and locked but he could hear something on the other side of it, the cadence of voices and a quiet yelp that belonged to you.

“Hey!” He slammed his shoulder into the door, the wood jerking forward just an inch under his weight.

“Joel!” It was the first thing you’d said that he could understand, followed by another strangled cry before you voice lowered to something he couldn’t make out. He threw himself against the door again and it budged another inch. His heart was in his throat. Something had happened, you were in trouble just feet away and he couldn’t get to you. He threw himself against the door again and again and again before it finally gave way and he stumbled into the barn.

Simon and Ben, a man who was new to Jackson, both looked surprised to see him there, like they hadn’t expected him to get in. They were standing by the gate to Ares’ stall, the horse thrashing and mad inside of it.

It took him a second to realize what was happening, to recognize where your voice was coming from. He hadn’t been able to understand you before because you were using the voice you used with the horses, soothing and gentle, trying to ease the animal to calmness, but he couldn’t see you. Your voice was coming from the stall but he couldn’t see you.

“Fuck off, Miller,” Simon snapped. “Not your business.”

“Joel!” You called and the horse reared back. He realized where you where then. He couldn’t see you because you were on the ground, below the angry, 1,500 pound animal.

“Not your fuckin’ business!” Simon yelled this time. There was blood at his temple, Ben’s lip was split.

Joel felt it before he fully realized it, the rage that was spilling through him, flowing out from the core of him through his whole body. These men had put their hands on you, hurt you. He needed to kill them. Once you were safe, he was going to kill them.

“Move!” He didn’t wait for them to listen, going for the door to the stall. Simon was stupid enough to try to block him and Joel punched him, hard, across the face. “I will kill you right here, fucking move!”

Ben took Simon’s shoulder and pulled him back and Joel could actually look down into the stall and see you. You were on your back, arms up in front of you, saying “It’s OK, it’s OK” over and over in that calm voice of yours.

“Bambi,” Joel fought to keep his voice calm, not wanting to risk alarming the horse any further.

“I’m OK,” you said quickly, rolling to dodge a hoof. Your voice was still almost disturbingly calm. “Open the gate and the go block where ever you came in through, make sure he can’t get out. I can get him back in if we can contain him but he’s too dangerous to let out.”

He looked back behind him but Simon and Ben were both gone, apparently smart enough to take his threat seriously.

“I got it,” he said, unlatching the gate and opening it. Ares charged forward and Joel ran for the downed door, blocking his path, going to reach for him before you cut him off.

“Don’t touch him!” You were on your feet, already scrambling to get to the horse. “I’m the only one he knows, I got him…”

You got in front of the horse, gently soothing him until you could get ahold of his bridle and guide him back to the stall, closing him in.

The second the stall door was closed, Joel ran for you. You slumped against the nearest wall, panting for breath, your eyes shut tight.

“Bambi,” he said, fighting to not touch you.

“I’m OK,” you leaned forward, your forehead pressing into Joel’s chest and it was a relief when you did, his body relaxing. He pulled you against him, holding you close. “I’m OK.”

“What happened?” He asked, resisting the urge to go and beat Simon to death with his bare hands. The fact that you were in his arms was the only reason he wasn’t.

“Got into a fight earlier with Simon,” you winced when Joel’s hand skimmed over your ribs. “Apparently didn’t take too kindly to that, decided to take shit into his own hands.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” he growled.

“Not worth it,” you said, pressing yourself closer to him. “Leave it alone, Joel. I’ll tell Maria and the council in the morning, don’t do something stupid.”

“Protecting you ain’t stupid,” he muttered, pressing his nose into your hair and breathing deep. “Not supposed to have people like that here, that’s the whole fuckin’ point. Gotta take ‘em out when we do.”

He pulled back from you enough to look you over. From what he could see, you’d landed more blows on Simon and Ben than they had on you.

“You hurt?” He asked. “Can take you to see the doc…”

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just gonna have a nasty bruise on my side where they slammed me into the stall door. Had worse.”

He pulled you back against him and you melted into his body. Touching you, holding you was a grounding force.

Joel hadn’t felt anything like this since he’d traveled with Ellie, this burning drive to rip and tear and hurt and kill. Someone had hurt you, tried to do worse to you and he hadn’t been there to protect you. “That’s why men like you and me are here.” Bill had been right. Joel had a job to do and not even God could help the motherfuckers who stood in his way.

“C’mon,” he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get you home.”

You insisted on checking on Ares again before you left. He’d calmed and you got an apple, feeding him from the palm of your hand as you scratched his head. Joel tried to not think about how close you’d been to dying because of that horse.

He kept an arm around you on the walk back to your house, looking and watching for any threats along the way. He wasn’t sure where Simon and Ben had gone but he sure as fuck wasn’t about to let them anywhere near you. He tried not to think about how he’d handle leaving you alone that night, considering setting up on your front porch to keep watch because his chest got tight at the thought of going home while leaving you vulnerable and alone.

“Can I ask a favor?” You asked when the two of you reached your front door.

“Not going to leave them alone if that’s what you’re askin’,” Joel said gruffly.

“No,” you shook your head and shoved your hands in your pockets, looking at his chest instead of his face. “Would you… would you be OK staying here tonight? I don’t…”

“Course, Bambi,” Joel cut you off. “I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

He didn’t just mean tonight.

“Thanks,” you looked relieved and unlocked your door.

You went in first and Joel hesitated a moment before following you. He’d never been inside your house before. It almost felt like he was stepping into a sacred space, something there worthy of worship and protection and adoration. He moved slowly, could sense the tension in your body. He put his hands in his pockets.

“It’s probably dumb but…” you clenched your jaw for a moment. “When I’m… when it’s a bad night, I sleep in there.”

You nodded toward a closet door tucked below the stairs.

“It’s smaller so it feels safer, I can run easier if I need to, don’t think anyone would start there if they came in lookin’ for me…”

“Not dumb,” Joel said gently. Thinking of you sleeping there, alone and afraid, made his heart ache. “That where…”

“For tonight, yeah,” you said quickly. “If that’s OK.”

“Course it’s OK.”

“Right,” you nodded once. “Right, thank you.”

You went to go get cleaned up and Joel tried to absorb as much of you as he could, moving slowly through your space. There was a book on the side table, something Joel didn’t recognize, some kind of historical thing. When he opened it, he found that you’d made notes in the margins. There was a stack of CDs by the stereo, a mix of artists and genres he couldn’t find much rhyme or reason to besides that they were just good. The music collection in general was huge, something that made him laugh a little. It was like you’d always been meant to live here, the house just waiting for you to move in and call it home. He was just trying to figure out how you had it organized when your voice appeared behind him.

“By genre and then artist,” you said, all but reading his mind. “Genre’s by preference, though. But I kinda like everything.”

It was more of your skin than Joel had ever seen, your legs bare below a pair of cotton shorts, arms and collarbones exposed in a matching tank top. The shorts made your legs seem long and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to ghost his hand over your skin, how soft and smooth you would be below his touch. There were scars at your wrists and ankles but you didn’t seem worried about hiding them, something Joel only just realized was probably purposeful.

“You’ve got good taste,” Joel picked up the top CD, The Smiths. You smiled.

“Ellie brought me that one. Conveniently ‘forgets’ it when she comes over. She’s a good kid.”

Joel smiled a little, too.

“Yeah, she is.”

He looked you up and down again, reassuring himself that you were whole, that they hadn’t hurt you.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” He asked.

You nodded and lifted your shirt to your ribs on one side, your skin already changing color.

“Just that.”

Joel was moving for you before he fully realized what he was doing, his hands gently taking your waist and back where it didn’t look like you were hurt. You jumped but, before Joel had a chance to take his hands back, you leaned into his touch.

“Sorry,” he said softly, bending to examine you.

“It’s OK,” you sounded almost breathless. “It’s… it’s nice actually. You have nice hands.”

He ran his thumbs over your damaged flesh, your skin somehow softer than he’d imagined it to be. Maybe it had just been too long since he’d properly touched a woman and he’d forgotten or maybe you were just that much softer than anyone else he’d ever touched but it made the want in him grow and rage inside him worse. You were softer, more delicate than you appeared. He was supposed to protect you and someone had hurt you, tried to kill you, and he hadn’t stopped it. He would stop it now.

“I’ll be fine,” you said quietly after a minute, voice still breathy. “Just tired.”

He brushed the bruised skin with his thumbs again, tracing the outline of your injury, before he straightened up. You lowered the shirt.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You led the way to the closet and turned on the light. It wasn’t as bad as Joel had been expecting, more cozy than cramped. But the mattress was small, just a twin.

“If you’d rather take the couch or the bed upstairs…” you looked up at him, your eyes wide again. Not with fear so much as hope this time.

“Rather be close to you,” he said. His voice was rougher than he meant it to be. “In case they decide to try somethin’ stupid.”

Joel’s accent got stronger when he was worked up. It was strong now.

You nodded, the edges of your lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile, eyes relieved.

There wasn’t much room in the closet outside the bed but you stood on one side of it and Joel on the other when you turned the light out. It was pitch black and Joel could only feel or hear your movements, but he could tell when you lowered yourself to the bed. He followed, as carefully and delicately as he could, trying not to accidentally hurt you. But once he was on the bed with you, everything seemed natural, simple.

Your body curved - slowly at first and then all at once - back into him. He stretched the arm below him out and your head settled against his bicep, your hair damp from the shower. He didn’t mind. His other arm curled around you, gently pulling you back into him. He felt the tension leave your body, your limbs going soft and pliant, your breaths deep and even. He pressed his nose into your hair and took you into his lungs, absorbing the smell of you and your shampoo, floral and clean and slightly wild.

Joel tried not to think about kissing you. Tried not to think about slipping into your warm, soft body, about how close he would be to you if he were inside you. How no one would ever be able to hurt you if you were that close.

“Joel,” you said his name so softly he wondered if he imagined it.

“Hm.”

He felt you take a deep, shaky breath before you slid your hand over his arm that was draped over you, your palm brushing over him until you reached his hand where it rested on the mattress, lacing your fingers with his own. Your hand trembled as you took his and brought it, slowly, to your stomach, slipping his palm beneath your shirt and pressing it gently to your warm, soft skin. Joel’s breath caught in his throat and he was hyperaware of your every move. You held your hand there, intertwined with his, before you eased your hold on him and pulled your hand away, leaving him touching your skin with nothing to hold him back. He tried to relax without getting hard against you, without letting his hand reach further up your body to feel as much of you as he could reach. He managed to let his arm and hand loosen, his elbow in the gentle curve of your waist, his fingers spreading wide over your bare skin, so soft below his callused touch.

“Bambi,” he breathed, voice shaky.

“I…” your voice broke. “I want you to touch me. I like when you touch me. Anyone else and… But I like when you do.”

You pressed yourself back against him and Joel closed his eyes tight, like it would somehow ease the desperate, clawing want building inside him.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” he whispered instead. “I’ll take care of you. I have you.”

He kept his hand on you, kept your body against his own with his nose pressed into your hair, until he felt you drift off.

Joel gave up then, just for a moment. His hand on your body, your frame curled against his own, the scent of your soap and your skin. He gave in and pressed his lips against the crown of your head, his fingertips sinking into the softness of your stomach, his legs curving up against yours. He kissed your hair for what felt like a long time but not nearly long enough, your quiet, sleepy breaths and the way you felt against him and the way you smelled the only things he could think of.

He settled for holding you close all night, settled for keeping you safe.

Joel had failed at that before. He failed with Sarah. He failed with Tess. He’d even failed with Ellie and now with you. He wouldn’t fail again. If all he did for the rest of his life was protect you and Ellie it would be a life well lived. And he would protect you. If it was the last thing he did, he would keep you safe. God help any motherfuckers who stood in his way.

Next Chapter

A/N: Y'all. When I say this was like... the smuttiest touching I've ever written where the touching was all G-rated?

The slow burn is burning but I promise I PROMISE the payoff is on the way and it makes sense for all the characters and it's coming pretty soon. As is some Feral!Joel because we all need a little Feral!Joel in our lives.

I have a taglist you can join if you really want BUT I now also have an updates blog, @justagalwhoupdates . I'll only share each chapter only one time so you're not spammed when you subscribe for notifications.

Thank you so much for being here for Joel and Bambi!! It means so much that you're reading this story and loving these characters so thank you. Love you all!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #yearling #joel miller x original character #slow burn

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andvys · 2 years ago

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We'll burn the sky | part one

Warnings: none yet, this is just the beginning guys, band au

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader

Summary: You pay corroded coffin a visit and some tension between you and the front man arises.

Word count: 4.1K

series masterlist

Read the teaser first; here

Chapter one

You had mixed feelings about Eddie’s offer to join his band. A band that had already existed for so long. They are close, they already formed bonds a long time ago, joining them now feels like you are invading something.

Though, Eddie said that the guys would welcome you with open arms. And they already did, the night at the bar. Eddie convinced you to come back to his table, he introduced you to his friends and bandmates, who seemed to be very excited to meet you. All greeting you with big smiles. You and your friends ended up spending the night with them- which they seemed very happy about.

You didn’t really end up talking about music– at least not with the rest of the guys since they took more interest in your friends, which left you and Eddie, who you ended up in heated conversations with. He was fun to be around and he made you laugh a lot but he also kept on trying to convince you to come see them play again.

Two days later, he called you and invited you to come watch their band practice. You were skeptical about it but your friends convinced you, telling you that it’s stupid to pass on an opportunity like that.

So here you are now, getting out of your car, you slam the door shut, pushing your sunglasses down your nose, you look around. Eddie’s van is in the driveway and you can already hear the sound of a guitar playing, along with the drums. The house isn’t big or luxurious in any way but it’s cute, plants and palm trees surround it.

The sun is beating down on your skin, already making you feel hot and sweaty even though it’s only 10 am.

“There you are.”

You turn around to find Eddie walking up the driveway, two iced coffees in his hands. He is wearing black jeans and a belt with handcuffs on the front, a muscle shirt– that you can tell was self made, the sleeves were definitely cut off, sun glasses perched low on his nose, his hair falling down his shoulders– he looks good.

“Hey,” you smile as you push your sunglasses up into your hair.

Eddie smiles, eyes moving down to your bare legs, if he didn’t see the hem of your skirt beneath the big shirt, he would think that you forgot to put your pants on. He averts his eyes from you, looking at your car instead, “your car?” he asks, pointing to the black Camaro.

You nod, smiling as you put your hand on the hood, “yup, she’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

Eddie takes his sunglasses off and looks at you, smirking.

She is.

“Definitely,” he chuckles, “what’s her name?” he jokes, not expecting you to actually have a name for your car.

“Stevie,” you grin, “you know, like Stevie Nicks?”

Eddie chuckles, raising his brows, “of course,” he says, “that’s what I call my friend, Steve.”

“Oh? If he is half as gorgeous as her, then I’d love to meet him,” you joke, crossing your arms over your chest with a smirk on your face.

A laugh leaves his lips, “sorry, you won’t be meeting him any time soon.”

“Why not?”

“Well, he lives in Hawkins, Indiana,” he mumbles, offering you one of the coffees, “I didn’t know what you like so I just got you my usual order.”

You raise your brows in surprise, “oh– that's nice, thank you,” you smile, taking it from his hand, you ignore the way it felt to touch his hand.

“You’re welcome,” he smiles as he motions for you to follow him.

“Hawkins, that’s your home?” you ask, looking at him in curiosity.

“Uh–” he starts, scratching the back of his neck, “that’s where I’m from but it was never home to me, I don’t think I’ve found my home yet actually, you know?”

You nod, staring at him, “I get that.”

He turns to look at you, furrowing his brows as he stares into your eyes, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, looking into his dark eyes as you wrap your lips around the straw trying the drink he got you.

For a brief second, he lets his eyes wander. Staring at your lips and then into your eyes before he finally tears his gaze away from you. He can’t look at you, at least not in that way.

“Mmm,” you hum, “vanilla?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh,” you tilt your head and eye him up and down, “didn’t take you for a vanilla kind of guy,” you say before you walk away from him, following the sound of the music.

Eddie stares at the back of your head with a dumbfounded expression on his face, heart jumping in his chest and cheeks growing red. What did you just say to him?

He shakes his head, sighing.

You halt in your tracks when you find the others practicing in the garage. A smile appears on your face. Gareth is playing the drums as the others play guitar and bass.

Eddie stops next to you, clearing his throat, he looks down at you with a smile on his face, “sounds good, doesn't it?”

You shrug, looking up at him with a smirk on your face, “good but not great,” you say.

The smile falls from his face and he furrows his brows, “you’re mean.”

“Just saying the truth,” you shrug as you take a sip from your coffee, “you know… better give your everything today, Eddie.”

The offer was to watch them practice, see if you can get a feel for their music before you decide anything. You heard Eddie’s voice before– it’s beautiful but you don’t know if it would go well with yours and if you can even imagine yourself to be in this band.

“Oh, I will,” he smirks as he leans towards you a little, “you’re gonna be begging on your knees for me to take you in.”

You raise your brows and chuckle, “last time I checked, you were the one begging me to come here so..” you trail off, “why don’t you show me what you got, pretty boy?”

He gulps at the nickname, blushing under your gaze.

“You already watched us,” he points out.

“Yeah, well– not the whole concert, I got kinda bored,” you smirk, tilting your head.

He gasps, putting a hand over his heart, “ouch, you’re cold, firefly.”

You draw back, scrunching your face up in confusion, “firefly?”

He chuckles, “you glow in the dark, like a firefly,” he shrugs, “especially on stage.”

You can’t help but smile at his words before you laugh, “it’s only because of my glowing boots.”

Eddie looks down at your shoes, “really? They can glow?” he asks, smirking, “I want some too then.”

“They were made just for me,” you joke, flipping your hair back.

His eyes flash with something as he looks back into your eyes.

Neither of you noticed that the band stopped playing and took more interest in your conversation. Jeff turns around to look at Gareth, smirking at him as they communicate with their eyes.

“Hey, y/n!” Johnny waves at you, interrupting your moment with Eddie.

You tear your eyes away from the man in front of you and turn to look at the boys, flashing them all a smile, “hey boys.”

“Well, rock on then, Munson.”

“Alright,” he grins.

Putting his hand on your back, he leads you into the garage, gesturing to the large armchair by the wall. You flash him a smile as you throw your purse on the chair and take a seat.

He puts his coffee down and places his sunglasses on the table, reaching for the notebook, he hands it to you, “this has all the song texts in it, you can go through them while we uh–” he pauses, gesturing the boys, “do our thing and uh if you got something you wanna add or change, just let us know.”

You nod, “okay!”

“Okay..” he mumbles, taking a moment to look at you as you eye the cover of his notebook. Your fingers trace the Hellfire logo, curiosity flashes in your eyes.

“Eddie,” Gareth calls out to him, “your sweetheart is waiting.”

You look up to see Gareth holding Eddie’s guitar, chuckling, you shake your head, “your sweetheart, huh?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “you call your car Stevie, don’t judge me.”

“Stevie?” Jeff asks.

“Yeah, like Stevie Nicks,” you and Eddie say at the same time, chuckling when your eyes meet.

“Oh,” Gareth says, tilting his head, “you know, we aren’t like Fleetwood Mac, right?”

“Not yet,” you smirk.

They all give you disapproving looks and shake their heads at you.

You lean back and cross your leg over the other, ignoring the way they all stare at your bare legs, you look out for a moment, admiring the way the sun shines down on the palm trees.

Eddie speaks your name and gives you a nervous look, “you know, we aren’t like.. soft rock or alternative or something.”

You look back up at him, “Fleetwood Mac’s genre is rock,” you frown as you open his notebook, reading the title of the first song, “but that sounds pretty soft to me,” you say, pointing to it, ‘Holder of my heart’.

“I–”

“Relax,” you snort, “just start already will ya?”

He blinks and stares at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, “y-yeah.. right.”

While you didn't pay attention to the first time you watched them play, you had the time and the chance to now and unfortunately, they need improvement, a lot of it. They go well together as a band, everyone is in tune, the harmony is there but something isn’t right.

Eddie’s voice is amazing and you can tell that he put a lot of passion into the song texts– but something about them doesn’t sound very genuine. Like the classic rockstar, he sings about sex, drugs and love but the love in his texts isn’t convincing, it doesn’t sound real.

You pace back and forth, staring down at the text in his notebook as you listen to them play.

They don't knock you off your feet, at least not yet.

A layer of sweat coats Eddie’s forehead, his bangs stick to his sweaty skin, it’s hot outside.

They have been playing for the past two hours and Eddie already begins to grow frustrated, you don’t look convinced or like you enjoy their music. The frown on your face is constant, so far. He is familiar with that expression, it’s one he sees on Sam’s face all the time, it’s the kind that tells him what you think; ‘You are good but not good enough.’ Words he has heard way too many times in his life.

You keep interrupting them too, always complaining about something and it pisses him off- he doesn't regret inviting you, not yet, at least.

You wave at them to stop and when they do, you take your sweet time, staying silent as you go over the text one more time.

Eddie puts his guitar down, panting as he wipes the sweat off his forehead. He reaches for the water bottle on the floor.

Gareth puts his drumsticks down and huffs, getting up to stretch, he sighs nervously when he sees you giving them a skeptic look. He shares nervous looks with Jeff and Johnny.

“Uh– listen, you are good but I don’t feel it,” you shrug, throwing your arms up a little.

All the boys sigh, they have heard that before.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “yeah, we’ve heard that before.”

“Your producer– what’s his name?”

“Sam,” Jeff answers.

A knowing look crosses your eyes but none of them seem to notice. You nod, “okay, Sam. I get why he thinks it’s not good enough. The passion, the love, the rage is missing,” you say, flipping through the pages to look for a certain song, “like this,” you point to the title as you walk closer to Eddie, “I mean clearly this is about a girl, right?” you ask, looking around.

They all nod at your words.

“Right,” you sigh, “but the song text just doesn’t sound like a song you would write about a girl you’re in love with, I mean, no offense but this sounds more like a song, you would write about a fucking cat or something because this? This isn’t love. The song sounds half hearted just like the song text and when something is half hearted, it’s just shit, I’m sorry guys but this is bad.”

The silence is loud.

While Gareth seems to enjoy your little outburst, Jeff avoids eye contact with you. Johnny strums the guitar and Eddie looks like he is about to flip out on you. His face is red, eyes filled with sudden anger as he breathes heavily.

You look him in the eyes, “that’s why Sam doesn’t like it, you don’t do half things in the music industry. You gotta put your whole heart into this, your soul. If you need a muse– at least get yourself a good one, one that inspires you, not whoever this girl was,” you say with wide eyes as you point to his notebook, “because she won’t get you an album or a tour.”

Of course you know that you have insulted his work but you don't know that you also insulted his girl.

Gareth chuckles at your words, “harsh but I agree.”

“Thanks,” you grin, he nods at you with a smile on his face.

You can already tell that you will get along with him.

Tilting your head, you look back at Eddie who looks even angrier than before. You don’t know why but seeing him so mad, brings you a weird sense of joy, you managed to get under his skin with just a few words.

“I mean,” Jeff mumbles, “she’s right, Eddie.”

Johnny nods in agreement, “yeah.”

Eddie raises his brows, glaring at his friends. Traitors. All this time, they didn't see anything wrong with his song texts and now they all suddenly hate them.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. Eddie clears his throat and you almost expect him to start yelling at you but instead, he places his hands on his hips and nods, “well, that’s why you’re here, y/n,” he says, giving you a forced smile, “I’m open to change the song texts.”

You laugh, staring at him, amused.

“Really? I thought you wanted me to sing your songs, not change them or make them better.”

He huffs, looking away, he closes his eyes and clenches his jaw.

“Well,” he mumbles, looking back at you with angry eyes, “you seem to know your way around this since you got so much to say about the bad writing so, will you help me rewrite them?”

“I’m not a writer,” you lie.

The frustration is so clear in his eyes, the rage is just radiating off of him. He is mad, you can tell that he is but there is also insecurity lingering in his eyes– the fear of not being good enough, you know this feeling all too well.

You take pity on him, sighing, you flip one of the other pages open, “i don’t like the way you sing this song but it’s easily fixable, you just gotta change a little something about the lyrics and uh–” you pause, looking up at them, you scratch the back of your neck as you look at Eddie’s guitar, contemplating asking him if you could play it– no, he is mad enough already. You look at Jeff, giving him a sweet smile, “can I borrow your guitar?”

“Yeah sure.”

He walks towards you as he moves the strap over his head, holding the guitar out for you, he gives you a smile as you thank him. You place the notebook on the armchair and put the strap around your shoulder, holding the guitar against your body, you pluck the strings, trying to find the right pitch.

Eddie leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest, he watches you intently. Something about the way you draw your brows together and purse your lips as you begin to play makes his gaze soften a little. You look down at the writing in his little notebook and begin to sing, using a darker, sadder tone for this song.

Your voice calms Eddie’s heart. The words that Eddie wrote, fall from your lips so beautifully, naturally. He exhales softly, his heart flutters weirdly in his chest when you look into his eyes.

He moves his head along to the rhythm, his lips twitch as you give him a small smile. You close your eyes again and focus on the song.

Eddie glances at his friends who all watch you with impressed looks on their faces.

Reaching for his guitar, he places his fingers against the strings and closes his eyes, waiting for the right moment to join you. He focuses on your voice and on the rhythm, getting a feel for it before he begins to sing with you, startling himself with the way your voices just go together, they are so different and yet it’s like they melt into one.

Eddie’s eyes lock with yours and something in his heart and in his soul just screams– in joy or in pain, he cannot tell, not yet. But there is this sudden ache in his chest as he looks into your eyes and sings his song with you. It’s only the second time that he sees you, the first time that he sings with you and yet it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you reunited. Everything around him disappears, all he sees, all he hears, all he feels is you.

And when it’s all over, he can’t help but ask himself; will you be the beginning or the end of it all? Will you be the savior or the ruin?

He doesn’t know.

But he knows that the band needs you, that he needs you.

And when you agree to try it, to practice more with them and help him rewrite the songs, the weight falls off his shoulders and he feels like he can breathe again, like he can feel hope again, like coming out here was no mistake after all.

At the end of the day, all his anger vanishes into thin air, the frustration is gone. A smile is resting on his face again.

Walking you back to your car, he can’t help but stare at you. You possibly stole a piece of him while you were singing and looking at him with those indescribable eyes of yours.

“So uh– I knew you were talented, like, that one time at the bar was enough for me to know but you truly impressed me today,” he says.

You smile, looking up at him with a blush on your face, “yeah?”

You both come to a halt, leaning against the car and crossing your arms over your chest, you look up at him. He pulled his hair up earlier, a few strands fell in front of his face and you feel the urge to tuck them behind his ears but you keep your hands to yourself. His doe brown eyes are soft, twinkling with happiness.

“Yeah,” he whispers, nodding his head.

“Even when I was being mean?” you tease.

He looks away, shrugging as he sighs, “you were just being honest,” he mumbles, “wasn’t good for my ego but yeah,” he jokes causing you to chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh, it’s just… when I get really into it, I can’t seem to stop myself.”

A breathy chuckle falls from his lips, “no.. no, that’s good. At least you don’t lie, you just say how things are.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“You will regret saying that, I can be very mean.”

He leans towards you with a smirk on his face, “at least you’ll tell me the truth.”

He is close enough for you to smell his cologne, the aftershave mixed with the smell of cigarettes and sweat from playing in the heat all day. Your stomach flutters. Your eyes fall on the guitar pick necklace and the tattoo that peeks out from beneath his shirt. You look up into his eyes again. God, he is so pretty.

You raise your brows, “you want the truth no matter what?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay,” you chuckle, “I’ll keep that in mind, Eddie.”

He smiles, eyes flickering down your body, he swallows harshly before he tears his gaze away. Reaching for the handle, he opens the door for you, “well, it was an honor to play and sing with you today, y/n. I look forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you whisper as you get lost in his eyes, “you know.. we’ll have to practice a lot, right? If you want the album, it has to be perfect, not good, not great– perfect.”

His face grows serious as he takes your words in.

“I’ll help you as best as I can and then I’ll be on my way–”

“What?” he frowns, “no, no– I want you in the band, I don’t want you to be just the songwriter, I want you to be our singer, I want you to sing with us, with me.”

“Eddie, this–” you gesture to the house, to the van, the garage, “this is yours, it’s your band, your friends, I don’t belong here–”

“Yes, you do,” he scoffs, “that’s why I want you. You think I would just make this offer to anyone? Hell, I would never let anyone into the band but you, your voice– it’s exactly what was missing, shit, I mean you could take this bad song texts, go to Sam and he would make that album right away because it’s you singing them, you could make the worst songs good– it’s just, something about you, I don’t know. You are just– your voice is perfect,” he rambles, growing red the moment he realizes the things he just said.

Your heart feels full from all his compliments.

You giggle, “you say all these things as though you have known me all my life.”

It feels like he does.

Eddie shrugs, “I just really want you in the band and I love your voice.”

Your eyes light up, happiness rushes through you, “I love your voice too.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

He smiles at you, “please, join the band, y/n. You would make it even better– I mean, you saw how well we worked together back there, your voice is just metal, Sweetheart. So please, join the band,” he begs, pleading you with his puppy eyes, “let’s become rockstars together, live the dream we both have and all that, you know?”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you look away from him. Eyes settling on the black camaro that belonged to your dad, you made a promise to him.

“Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Yes,” you whisper, meeting Eddie’s eyes, the joy in them is so clear, it looks like he can barely contain it and that alone made saying yes worth it.

You look away from him, "you know, I kind of lied earlier."

"About what?"

"About not being a writer," you mumble, giving him a sheepish smile, "I wrote songs before- a whole album actually."

Surprise is written all over his face, "really?"

"Yeah," you whisper.

"Who'd you write for?"

You shrug, looking down, "doesn't matter anymore, he never actually got to sing the songs- it would've been the second album."

The tone in your voice and the sadness in your eyes intrigue him.

"What happened?" he asks, softly.

You look up, "he died," you mumble, "I still have the song texts you know? I wrote them for him, I think we could actually use some lines for your songs, I mean, if you are okay with that- I think they would fit in well."

Eddie nods, "we could.. try to work with that. Maybe you can sing them to me, next time," he offers.

"You'd want that?" you ask, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Yeah, of course, I wanna see what you got, firefly," he grins.

Your heart jumps in excitement, filled with happiness and excitement for everything that is to come.

You sealed your fate that day and if you had just known that you’d be standing in front of him with tears in your eyes and a shattered heart a few months later, you would have never said yes to Eddie Munson.

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @bloodytearss @mysticmunson @tvserie-s-world @eddielives1986 @1paire2vans @poisonedluv @sherrylyn628 @aysheashea @kaitebugg03 @lma1986 @aftermidnightwriting @livelaughlove-mhm

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

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matchamiko · 8 months ago

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ Warnings: fox quirk!reader, muzzling, injuries (scratched knees). Touya is around 9 and reader is about 10.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ note: I got some inspo for my oc nd decided to turn it into an insert, it’s very self-indulgent nd actually part of something a little bigger I wanna do T-T

It was a little bit rude of you to interrupt his outside playing, his scooter time in the street outside his house. It was his time to be silly and race the shadows of the pigeons flying above him, his time to scuff his knees and stick his tongue out at the kids walking home from after school club. But you ruined it with your whimpering and pitiful crying, somewhere behind the across-the-street-neighbour’s bins.

Touya crunches to a halt beside the boxes and cans, hearing shuffling and whining the closer he rolls towards them. He intents to tell you off, that this is his street and not yours, that kids play hide n seek down at the park or in their gardens, and he also intends to chase you away on his scooter, showing you how fast and how crazy he is,

“You’re not allowed back here, it’s dirty and not yours,” he begins, lisp pronounced with the absence of one of his front teeth, “You need to go away,” Touya squats and pushes a bin bag out of the way, socked feet and a plush tail appearing before him. You’re cowering, eyes glistening with tears and nose running, short pointed fangs glinting in the amber light of the afternoon sun. Instead of letting his scooter drop to the floor, Touya gently lowers it to rest against a box of recycling, icicle eyes never leaving yours. You start to cry again when he doesn’t say anything, silent with a wobbling chin.

There’s a heavy wire muzzle over the lower half of your face. Leather straps cut into your cheeks and stretch over your head between two powdery orange ears tipped in black, flattened to your hair and quivering all over.

Touya doesn’t say anything, shuffling forwards slowly, grit scratching under his trainers and you, at first, flinch as if about to flee. But there’s something in the way he holds out his sticky fingers and prods the grazes on your knees, face soft and curious and boyish.

“Did a bully do that?” he’s referring to the muzzle, voice soft and you shrink in on yourself, hiding in the shadows of the bins, “I can help take it off, I bet it hurts alot,”

Your eyes are sharp and calculating, afraid and still flooded with tears,

“M-my tea-cher,” you stutter through sobs, “I accident-tally scratched -,” you gulp in several heaving hiccups, “I hurt-ed someone, accidentally!”

Touya spots the short, almost blunt claws at the ends of your fingers, looking more like the long nails his mom would get painted at the salon sometimes. He sits lower in his squat, chin leaning on his folded arms over his knees, watching you and your tail that twitches and flicks to and fro. He knows from watching cats that at least you seem less agitated, allowing him to come closer on his knees and reach for the muzzle,

“I’m Touya, and my house is just that one there,” he offers just like his mom did when she was dressing a cut knee, talking over the pain and shame just as he knows you must feel, “Do you like banana milk? Mom’s got some in the fridge, you want some? It’ll make you feel better I think,” you allow him to touch you, nine year old hands fumbling with the heavy metal clasps behind your head, “makes me feel better when I get a bad grade at school, or if stupid Natsu’ is being stupid,”

The muzzle comes free and he throws it to the floor, the two of you staring at it with fear and repulsion. After a moment, Touya picks it up again and takes it over to the general waste bin, dumping it unceremoniously into the filthy depths.

“D’you want that milk then?” you’re crawling out from behind the rubbish, ears up and twitching when he picks up his scooter, “I would get you some plasters for your knees but - wait,” Touya thrusts his toy at you, ignoring your yelp as you catch it clumsily, the handle jutting into your cheek, “I can go get some! Mom left the box on the table!”

He trips as he rushes through the gate, a little oof! making you giggle into your hand and sending a rosy flush to his cheeks, “Don’t play on my scooter! It’s special!” he doesn’t see you nod, disappearing into his house with a shout of his brother’s name.

It takes him a little while to return, the sun beginning its descent and the streetlights flickering on while you wait patiently with his scooter. You’ve seen kids at school playing with them, riding them to school far ahead of their parents or older siblings and it makes you a little resentful towards the sleek black car that drops you off every morning and picks you up every afternoon. Except for today. You ran away today, not even taking your school bag, ignoring the shouts of the driver and his panicked phone calls. Tears threaten again and you scrub them away, feeling the welts of the muzzle still present on your cheeks, and it’s Touya’s return that shakes you out of your misery.

“I got a lot of stuff, but I gotta be quick cause it’s getting dark and dad’ll be so mad,” he shudders at the thought, careful not to trip over the step this time and you catch the carton of banana milk that falls from his arms. Touya drops everything to the floor away; several plasters with aliens on them, a damp dish cloth that has grit on it now, a chocolate bar and a second carton of milk, this one mango flavoured. He squats down to brush off the rag, flicking your skirt out of the open wounds on your knees, cleaning them roughly and a little terribly, sending tears spurting out of your eyes again,

“Oh m’sorry,” he says quietly, looking up at you and frowning at you rubbing wetly at your cheeks, but you nod through it, encouraging him, “I’ll put the plasters on now, they’re my actual favourite, and you can drink the milk by the way, I got it for you,”

You juggle his scooter and the straw for the milk, successfully piercing the cardboard and sipping with a sniffly nose, giggling when Touya points out his favourite alien and then his least favourite one, blobby and red (“looks like Natsu’ when he was born”). Then, after criss crossing your knees with plasters, he tells you all about his recent birthday and how his scooter was his absolute best present ever, how he’s ridden it every day after school and also on the weekends,

“If you wanna ride it, you can! You don’t cry all loud and gross like the little kids so you’re not that annoying,” Touya stands and opens up the chocolate bar, halving it very badly and handing the larger piece to you, “You could come round tomorrow after school, unless you have a club or study or something but if you don’t come inside, then dad won’t mind,”

“I don’t do clubs after school,” you say with a scratchy voice, “m’not allowed,”

“Oh,” his mouth is full of chocolate and he swallows loudly, goo stuck to his upper lip, “well, that’s okay, that means you can come and play whenever you want, I think I like you alot so I don’t mind if you wanna use it but you are not allowed to go faster than me, I’m the fastest,” Touya’s threat is empty and followed by a big gummy grin, teeth brown and sugary. You nudge him and laugh with your belly, chomping on your own snack and drinking your milk with crinkled eyes,

“You’re funny Touya, and you're really nice, I think I like you too,”

#near nd dear to my heart #I had to get it out or it would consume me #touya x reader #touya todoroki #touya fluff #bnha x reader #mha reader

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purplemagics-blog · 25 days ago

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DATING ART THE CLOWN HEADCANONS!!!🤡🖤🩶🤍

Your his

To his

TW/warning: bunch of gore and very intense descriptions of it!!, Art being a d7ck, bad language, alcohol use, mentions and descriptions of throw up (sorry), Art acting like a child, panic attacks and anxiety, Vicky slander (I hate Vicky and put a bunch of Vicky slander in the comments), masturbati0n with a piece of glass (from that one scene with Vicky), minors DNI!!, spoilers for Terrifier three and two! please tell me if I missed anything

Bro, I love the Terrifier series but I swear to f6cking God if that little b7tch Sierra, don’t die in the next one I’m going to start tweaking out. I don’t like her she’s boring. She was much better in the Terrifier two movie. She just needs to die already. I swear to God the only thing that’s keeping me from not giving up on life completely is the fact that at least in the Terrifier movies in the future, Sierra will die.

1.) This man gets jealous for no exact reason other than he can. For a man that speaks zero, he shows 100. Honestly, even if a guy looks at you a certain way, if even if it was just a glance he’s heart is going to be inside of a jar and his heads going to be stuck on a spear.

2.) You get very very jealous of Vicky. Fucking shit you hated Vicky. You are so jealous of her and the connection she had with Art. Yeah of course you know Art is definitely controlling her but that didn’t make you any less jealous especially when you were having a very intense scene with art killing somebody broke into the place you guys called home. You both were just having a good time killing that man and making out. The feeling of his rotten teeth on yours making you want more. and you look over and she’s masturbating herself with a piece of glass?! what the fuck is wrong with that bitch?!!? You were so happy when she died

3.) when you guys walk around the mall if he sees a mall Santa or like someone dressed up as a character from a holiday Pacific thing he turns into an actual child pointing and jumping up and down as if to say “SANTA?!!!!”

4.) if you got exes best believe their heads in a bag on your front door, especially if they’re the toxic kind. Once you were chilling with your boyfriend Art when you’re pathetic ex called you and begged you to take him back. Very much annoyed that you’re not got ruined you hung up the phone and pouted. In response Art left the abandon house you guys call home and found your ex. Next morning, you wake up and think Art is making bacon. Where did he find bacon? Who the fuck knows?? even you asked yourself that but when you look closer it was your ex’s skin…

5.) he does not drink but when your clowny ass convinces him to and he really gets in the mood he will drink like a sailor. Once he was so drunk you had to sit with him for half an hour as he throw up in a public restroom. (Headcanon no matter what he drinks or eats his throw up will always be a slime like black substance)

6.) His mood is up and down for no reason. One minute he’s basically worshiping you. All smiles and kisses. Next minute he straight up, ignoring you with that same pouty look that you adore.

7.) Tbh this man acts like a child. Whenever he makes a new weapon, he’s really proud of no matter what you’re doing showering, eating, etc. he will stop you whatever you’re doing Just show it off.

8.) he would never ever ever even dream about laying a hand on you BUT- in the bedroom he will cut, bite, dig his nails into you etc,etc.

9.) he’s like a big puppy dog with murders intense. Whenever you’re busy doing something and you ignore him for too long he pulls out the ✨horn✨ and will not leave you alone until you pay attention to him.

10.) you were once one of his victims. You worked at a fast food restaurant where you walked in on him chewing your manager’s face off. When he first heard you walk in his first instinct, was to kill you but instead, he tried to chair and forced you to watch as all your coworkers got slaughtered one by one. Not really a way to start off a relationship, but oh well you love him either way and that one guy was getting on your nerves.

11.) you have intense trauma with your past and get lots of flashbacks and have intense anxiety which Art attempts to help you with that. Whenever you’re smashing things, having trouble breathing, etc. etc. he will try his best to help you in the worst way possible but that’s Art for you. Once you were having an episode and by the end, everything around you was broken and you were cuddled up on a dirty, bloody mattress hugging a dirty pillow. Art proceeded to walk in (a bit mocking like he was “scared of you” like the bastard he is) walked up to the bed and honked his ✨horn✨ in your ear. You responded by punching him square in the jaw. (I swear to God if he could talk, he would say “CRAZY BITCH!” LMAOOO)

12.) Yes you do feel bad for his victims. Sometimes you’ll see him killing somebody as they desperately and ignoring think that if they shout their loved ones names that will stop him. Sometimes you lay awake at night thinking about them and how their family would react.

13.) This man does not take shit seriously. Not one thing he takes seriously. Once you told him that you’re guy friend died and he proceeded to do a happy dance as in to say “THANK GOD”

14.) He LOVES cuddles. If he has you in his lap he will not let go no matter what. When you guys are sleeping together he will hold you to his chest. Honestly, it’s adorable have a guy that has killed hundreds, if not more of people is such a cuddler.

15.) Art like his partner’s chubby. More to love for him and more skin to touch and tease. (I may be a little biased because I’m a chubby person😖)

16.) you basically act like a mother figure to the little pale girl and it’s like Art is the dad you’re the mom and the little pale girl is the daughter.

Hope you guys really enjoyed this BYEEE!!

real footage of me in math class

Me trying to convince my nonexistent boyfriend to dress up as Art the clown- FOR EXPERIMENTAL PURPOSES!!!

#Terrifier #terrifier 2 #Terrifier3 #art the clown x y/n #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #art the clown #I fucking hate Vicky #Spotify

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spideybatsy · 2 years ago

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A+B | Chapter Five

Summary: GN!reader is falling in love with Bruce Wayne, even if they won’t admit it. Everything takes a turn for the worse when Bruce’s biggest secret comes to light.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader

WC: 2.1K

Warnings: na

Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3

Masterlist

For the next few days, I feel helpless. It’s like I’m on autopilot. Waking up, going to work, coming home, and going to bed. I can tell Stacey is concerned about me but thankfully, she never pushes me to talk. She just gently reminds me that she’s here for me when I’m ready.

“Don’t take no for an answer.”

The voice on the TV catches my attention, it was a cheesy talk show. I don’t even remember it starting, there’d been reruns of Friends playing seemingly seconds ago. I turn to Stacey, who is staring down at her phone screen.

“Some people will try and hold you back from what you want. You can’t let that happen.” The live audience hollers in response as the host walks to the woman on the couch. “What do you want?” She puts the mic up to the woman’s mouth.

“I want love!”

“So, what are you going to do?”

The woman stands up. “Go out and get it!”

The screen turns black as Stacey gets off the couch. “Come on, time to go to bed.”

“Stace.” Her eyes shoot to me, and she turns off the phone. “I have to do something.”

“What?”

“I have to let him know he can’t just cut me out like this,” I said. “That I deserve more than that.”

She takes a seat next to me. “How are you going to do that?”

Now that I’m standing outside of Wayne Tower, I’m not sure that this is the best idea. What if he calls security on me?

No, I can’t back out. If he won’t talk to me after today, at least I’ll know I’ve done everything I can. The ball will be in his court.

I take a deep breath and push open the door and walk inside. I’ve never actually been here before, so I take a second to look around. Despite the building having been here for decades, it’s modern and sleek. Clearly renovated recently, it reeks of wealth.

There’s a receptionist at the front desk and a part of me feels the need to hide away. She’s stunning. I’m surprised she isn’t on the front page of a beauty magazine. Or on Bruce’s arm.

“Hi, I’d like to see Bruce Wayne.” I’m grateful my voice doesn’t shake.

She looks up at me through her glasses. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I was hoping you could call him and let him know A is here.”

She looks me up and down, and an almost condescending smile crosses her face. “Mr Wayne doesn’t see people without an appointment.”

“Please.” This time my voice does crack. “Just let him know A is here.”

She sighs and picks up the phone, dialling as she stares up at me.

“Good morning, Mr Wayne. I have an A here to see you.” A cruel smile lifts her lips. “Yes, yes. I’ll get security to escort them out.” She flinches, the voice on the other side of the phone is so loud that even I can hear it. “Of course, sir. Sorry sir.” Then she puts the phone down.

“Mr Wayne can’t see you at the moment, but you are welcome to wait.” She gestures over at the couches. I note that she won’t look me in the eyes anymore.

I’d been prepared to spend hours waiting for Bruce, having packed several books and even some yarn and crochet hooks. After half an hour I glance up and notice the receptionist looking over at me. She hurriedly looks away and whispers something into the phone before hanging up.

It was only 10 minutes later that I looked up and notice the man making his way to me. It’s not Bruce but I’m happy, nevertheless.

“Alfred!” I stood from the chair.

He smiles and draws me into a hug. I notice the receptionist staring at me again and whispering something else into the phone.

“Good job,” he says as he pulls away. I can tell he’s talking about my showing up here.

I can’t help the smile on my face. “What are you doing here?”

“Master Wayne called me to drive you home.” He must see the conflict on my face because he adds on. “We’ll talk about it more in the car.”

I nod, grab my bag, and follow him out to the car. I’ve been in this car a few times now but something new catches my eye. There’s always been a small assortment of snacks behind the driver's seat but they’ve all been changed out. They’re all my favourite treats.

“Alfred, what happened to the food?” I notice his smile in the rear-view mirror.

“Master Wayne wanted to try something new.”

The warmth that fills my chest is quickly darkened when I remember the situation.

“Why won’t he talk to me?” My voice is so soft that I’m worried he won’t hear me.

“Master Wayne is a strange man.” Alfred takes a second. “He thinks everyone is better off without him, especially when it comes to his alter ego.”

“I don’t feel better off.”

“I know.” We sit in silence for a moment. “Master Wayne has a date planned tomorrow night at Alexandros. It would be a shame if you showed up at 6 pm with a date of your own.”

“A date?”

“Master Wayne is a very… protective man.”

I take his words in for a moment. “Are you saying I should make him jealous?”

“I’d never say such a thing.” I can see his smile in the mirror again. “But we must all turn to dramatic measures when the times call.”

Even in my best clothes, I feel underdressed for Alexandros. Nick leads me inside, his hand holding my own. He’s one of the only people from university I kept in contact with. When I reached out about dinner, I was honest and explained the whole situation to him. Well, most of the situation. I left out the whole Batman thing, obviously. He instantly jumped on board, partially to help me and partially to see the great Bruce Wayne in the flesh.

“How are we going to pay for this?” Nick whispered into my ear.

Alfred had insisted that Bruce would pay for dinner and if worst came to worst, I was to call him. I don’t think I could ever ask Alfred for money, so I hoped he was right about Bruce wanting to show off.

“It’s covered, don’t worry about it.”

We smile in unison as we approach the host. He is searching for our reservation when I feel the back of my neck tingle. He’s here.

He says my name and I can feel his shock in every letter. I put on my best-surprised face and turn to him.

“Bruce?”

Nick’s eyes widen as I quickly squeeze his hand in mine.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce takes a step forward, seemingly forgetting all about his date. She’s beautiful, tall with the perfect amount of curves. I recognise her instantly, she’s a lingerie model.

“The same as you, it seems,” I reply.

The guilt in Bruce’s eyes goes as quickly as it comes. He introduces me to his date; her name is Nicole.

“Well, Bruce and Nicole this is Nick. Nick, Bruce and Nicole.”

Nick and Bruce shake hands and I can tell Bruce squeezes hard. Nick's hand is red when he pulls away.

“You must be the friend from university.” I’m surprised Bruce remembers. “Finally made your move?”

“Better late than never.” We share a cheesy romantic look and I’m proud of us for being such convincing liars. I’m also happy I never told Bruce Nick’s gay, otherwise this could’ve gone south very fast.

“Your table for two is now ready.” The host comes to our rescue.

“Nice seeing you again Bruce, until next time.” We go to walk away but Bruce acts faster.

“What if we sit together for dinner? A nice double date.” He says it like a question, but I know there’s no room for dispute.

“Unfortunately, Mr Wayne, there are no tables for four available.” The host responds.

Bruce pulls out his chequebook and starts writing.

“This isn’t a question of money, Mr Wayne. We are fully booked.”

The smirk Bruce responds with is so unlike him that it sends a shiver down my body. I hate it.

He hands the cheque to the host. “I’m the owner now, get us a table for four.”

To say dinner has been awkward is the understatement of the year. When Nick had gone to pull out my seat, Bruce had basically sprinted to get there first and help me sit. Poor Nicole looked astonished when Bruce then sat down, completely ignoring her. Thankfully, Nick went over and helped her to her seat. I thanked him when he sat down, which just made Bruce agitated.

I’m not sure what his game is. The only thing I can think of is maybe he wants to show that he’s more interested in me than her. All it does is make me feel bad for her.

Bruce starts asking question after question, basically all of them directed at me. Most of which I know he already has the answer to. As soon as I can get an extra word in, I ask Nicole how her week has been.

While we chat, I can see Bruce staring daggers into Nick. I feel so bad for the guy, I might have to buy him a gift basket after this. I can tell he’s uncomfortable by the way he grips my hand under the table. I try to squeeze back in solidarity.

“How has your week been?” Nicole asks me.

I can’t stop the hurt that floods my eyes but try to blink it away. “I went to see a friend and he wouldn’t talk to me. He just sent someone else to come deal with me.”

At least Bruce has the decency to look down in shame, even if it only lasts a moment.

“I’m sorry, that’s horrible.” Nicole reaches over the table and takes my other hand. I smile, grateful for her empathy. “Have you spoken to him now?”

I feel Bruce’s eyes on me. “Kind of? We haven’t really spoken. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth it anymore.”

Before anyone can respond, the waitress brings out our mains.

We eat mainly in silence, sometimes commenting on the meal. The tension is palpable, everyone can feel it.

“Do you want to try some of the soup?” When no one responds, I look up and notice Bruce gazing straight at me. “I know you love it.”

Nick can’t help but laugh next to me. “You hate soup.”

Bruce’s face scrunches, in the same way I imagine a toddler would mid hissy fit. “No, they don’t.”

“They certainly don’t like pumpkin soup.” Nick laughs even harder, and I can’t help but join him. It’s so stupid but with all the tension that’s been suffocating us all night, something just snaps.

“I-I,” I struggle to get the words out between, “hate pumpkin soup.”

Bruce looks down at his soup, which is definitely pumpkin, and crosses his arms.

“I feel like I’m missing out on an inside joke.” Nicole pipes up.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I finally gain some sort of composure.

“Back in university, I ate pumpkin soup all the time.” Nick starts laughing again, burying his head in my shoulder. “Then one day I ate an out-of-date can and spewed everywhere. Haven’t touched canned pumpkin soup since.”

Bruce tries and fails to hide the upturn on his lips. “I’m sure this isn’t canned.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. I’m still not willing to risk it, though.” I lean over and place my free hand on his arm. “But thank you for offering.”

This seems to lift his spirits even higher, as he instantly grabs my hand with his own. “I’ll get Alfred to make you some pumpkin soup. He loves making it.”

“That sounds nice.”

We stare at each other for a moment, and it feels like our first real interaction since that night of the robbery. Unfortunately, it’s cut short when Nicole coughs. I quickly take my hand away, even though his remains still.

Nick, sensing the tension beginning to rise again, quickly steps in. “God, I can’t wait for dessert.”

As Alfred expected, Bruce picked up the bill for dinner. Both Nick and I thanked him several times, but Bruce brushed it off.

Nick went outside to get the car while Bruce, Nicole and I waited inside. Bruce pulled me aside, just out of Nicole’s hearing range.

“I wanted to say,” he took a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Nick called for me, waiting by the car. As I moved to him, I turned back to Bruce. “Call me later, we’ll talk about it.”

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bruce Wayne x reader #Christian Bale #batman #batman x reader #gn!reader #bruce Wayne x gn!reader #bale!bruce Wayne x gn!reader

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believesthings · 7 months ago

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Not Just A Girl - Chapter 4 // Jason Sudeikis x Reader

Summary: You're a new up and coming actress. At your first awards show, you run into your celebrity crush, Jason Sudeikis. Trying to navigate the bond you form with him while both juggling your respective careers proves to be quite the task with some unexpected twists along the way.

Tag List: @my-soupy-brain @tegan8314 @tortilla-maria1

Once again you wake up entirely too early of your own accord. To work out some of your nervous energy you wander down to the weight room to move for a bit. Your realize once you've made it down there that you've left your phone in your room but you don't need your phone for the a half hour, right? That's the new thing these days, Isn't it? Technology detox? Sure, why not give it go.

Your callback isn't scheduled until 10:00 which gives you plenty of time to obsess over every little detail you can imagine into being before having to slip into the persona of Mia and hopefully finally get conformation regarding the part.

Comfortably tired from your workout, you head to the elevator to go back up to your room and happen to spot your new friend - the security guard from last night - leaving as he gets off his shift. He looks even younger outside of his uniform. Quite the shift, you marvel, for someone so young - but then you often held off jobs while you were working in theater, just son you could afford the rent.

You give him a friendly wave which he returns with an exhausted by happy smile. On the elevator, you remind yourself to relay your promise to Jason when you call him later in the day. You've decided on calling him around lunchtime so as to hopefully not interrupt his day. He made you promise that you would call after your callback, but he never specified when.

A glance at your phone tells you that 30 minutes with it, while freeing, is actually quite impractical. You've not got numerous messages to shift through.

Knock them dead, Honey.

From your mother.

The award looks great. Go get us another to match!

From your Father, with an attached photo of him, making a goofy face next to your award in a newly built cabinet.

Todd had sent a series of messages - first regarding the fan mail that he wanted to pass on to you at your earliest convenience, a.k.a. come clear some of this clutter from my workplace - followed by directions to the building where you needed to go today, a brief pep talk... remember your training, so on, so forth - and then an oddly phrased text requesting that you call him after lunch because by that time he thought he would know something you would like to hear.

You had sent him the list of places that you had been interested in renting while you stayed in town, perhaps he would have news regarding that? You can't live in the hotel forever, despite how tempting it would be to do so.

Will also opted for a series of texts:

If they don't choose you for Mia, they're mad. - x

Followed by:

Can't wait to see you and discuss your new boyfriend.

Then another one:

Jo said the pair of you went house hunting without me. You owe me drinks!

You try to remember where he is and what he could be doing at the moment, judging if you can call and chat. Is he doing interviews? Maybe a photo shoot?

The next text doesn't help clear up where he could be.

The makeup trailer seems empty without you. When will we be able to coerce someone into making All Your Monsters 2?

You save the texts from Jason for last.

Good Morning, Darling. Don't forget your promise to call.

You can't help but grin. "Or what?" You think to yourself.

Before protesting again, my phone is on silent and I'll be checking my messages at every available moment until I hear from you.

You shake your head and laugh, imaging Jason sneaking glances at his phone every time the director calls cut. Though it makes you smile you'd feel incredibly guilty if you got him into trouble on set.

Also, we had food provided during our breaks from a wonderful little breakfast spot downtown. I'd love the chance to take you.

This makes you blush. Breakfast with Jason. Breakfast following...

Before your mind can stray too far down that distracting line of thought another text arrives from Todd:

Did you get the directions I sent?

Really, he worries far too much about your sense of direction.

Yes, I'll let you know when I get there.

You pack up a few things into a satchel in the hopes that you can window shop at some point during the day. To pass the time and distract yourself from the butterflies in your stomach you use your phone to scroll through the media links that Todd has sent you. There are so many articles speculating on your connection with Jason - curiosity makes you scan through the titles.

The new woman in Jason's life, Battle of the Co-stars over before it began? Goldstein out on day one as Sudeikis cuddles up with new woman.

After reading through a few of the articles you get distracted by the copious photos linked to the sites: publicity photos of each of you at the awards show with candid shots from the night sprinkled in, more from the after party, walking along the street, even a few from your date the previous night. Scrolling through the pictures you are reminded of the long days during filming All Your Monsters when you would pas the time by searching our various funny pictures and sending them to Will. You spent an entire week sending him the same photo of a squirrel with his cheeks overstuffed - it had driven him crazy.

Rather than sit around in your hotel you decide to go ahead over to the location for your callback and maybe find a quiet spot to sit and center yourself before having to disappear into the character of Mia.

You arrive far earlier than just a few minutes, which all works out according to plan -- finding a place to sit and collect yourself proves a bit challenging. As far as options go, sitting in the lobby isn't much help because of all the foot traffic... there is a row of chairs near the door that you were directed to go to, but that puts you in the awkward position of having to see who walking of the room just before you have to go in. Everything has been kept incredibly quiet regarding the project.

You can hear voices coming from within the room through the door, which was left slightly ajar. You know better than to try to knock on the door to announce your arrival, for all you know they could still be with the previous pairing and interrupting that would be awkward beyond even your standards. You realize the voices have grown a bit more insistent and you can actually make out the words of the person who is currently speaking and it is n=certainly not dialogue from the pages you've been given.

"I just don't see the wisdom in it..."

Part of the response is lower than you can make out... "-thought we had agreed it would be best for production."

"Well things changed, maybe we don't want that anymore."

"Do we scrap all the other choices we've made so far then too?" Someone was very unhappy about something regarding this James & Mia movie. "You said - you said that casting unknowns was the most beneficial!"

Oh - your stomach flips. Oh, you really shouldn't be listening to this, any of this. You should get up and walk back out to the lobby and wait there until it is closer to your appointment time. What if they open the door to find you sitting here? You want to flee but now that your ears have picked up on the conversation your body seems to refuse to let you escape.

"Look - you can be on board with this or not but that doesn't change the fact that we are going to be telling all of them today and.."

The irate voice was even louder, loud enough to make you wince and unglue from your position. "You still want us to see all of them? You don't consider that - I don't know - a waste of everyone's time? Now that you've unilaterally made the biggest decision we..."

You don't stay to hear the rest of the tirade. You're already walking down the hall as quietly as you can. You don't pause in the lobby but burst out the door onto the sidewalk, the sun shining ahead help as you as your best to take steady breaths.

Pull it together. Breathe in, out.

In. Out.

Ok. So they're going a different way, at least they're going to tell you rather than leave you waiting for a phone call.

Breathe in. Out.

Why wait around to hear they don't want you? You're feeling petulant but quickly find a reply to the question: you never know what other projects these individuals might have lined up that they might recommend for you.

Everything is an opportunity.

You've been turned down for parts you've gotten attached to before. You close your eyes and concentrate on breathing until the urge to dry heave subsides. Opening your eyes, you sigh up at the building. There's one voice you want to hear before you go back inside to face their decision..

Your finger are still slightly shaking as you dial Jason's number. It goes to voicemail, thankfully he did as he said he would and turned his phone to silent.

"Hey-" You scowl when you hear your voice waver and force a smile, trying to change the pitch of your voice. "So, I'm currently standing outside enjoying the beautiful sunshine and thinking of you. Havn;t gone in yet but I overheard something I probably shouldn't have... and well, I think they're going with someone else. Whoever it is, I'm sure it'll do the project wonders. I just... well,,,"

You look down at your watch. "Damn." It took you longer to gather yourself than you thought. You've got to run back inside or you'll be late. To top it off, you notice that in your frazzled state to check your watch, your thumb ended the call. You heave a sigh before turning the phone ring tone down and stuffing it into your bag.

Back in the building you walk with as much confidence as you can muster back towards the proper room. The door is open now, the silence reminding you of the quiet just before all hell breaks loose.

Ok. you are going to go in there and wow them, even if they've already made up their minds. You'll explain everything to Jason later - hopefully over many drinks.

Upon entering the room you are warmly greeted by the casting director, a man who reminds you of your theater teacher from college. He introduces you in turn to the individuals sitting alongside him - almost in order of the chain of command, working from himself all the way up to the man you recognize moments before the casting director says his name - the director of the project. After introductions you drop your bag to the floor beside the chair they've set out in front of them. Was your phone buzzing? It was hard to place to source of the sound over the shifting of all the people in front of you and the added movement of the script and other odd things in you bag. You didn't really need to bring the script with you, but you would thought you have a moment to go over your notes to yourself... of course, that was before you eavesdropped on the conversation that was taking up your brain space. You start to lean over to adjust the way your bag is sitting and maybe pull the pages out but you stop your actions when the casting director addresses you:

"Well, before we get started, Welcome back! You were absolutely lovely in your audition and I wanted you to know that. We loved the interpretation of Mia that you brought to the table."

Were absolutely lovely. Loved. Past tense. As in we don't love your interpretation anymore because someone did something better, but thanks for playing anyway. You keep your breathing calm and level by dropping yourself out of the moment as much as you can.

"We think we've found--" he glances askance before correcting his words. "We have cast our James and are hoping that we might have the right fit for you playing against him."

That - was not what you were expecting him to say. You blink to let the words sink in for a moment before smiling. "I- thank you! I'd love to give it a go."

"Excellent" He beams down the line at the other members of the team, most of whom are smiling - but you notice the production manager, (or were they introduced as the production coordinator?) doesn't seem to be very interested in the conversation. "We're actually going to have to wait a few minutes for his arrival so let's just run through a few lines and then we'll see where we're at." You nod before squaring yourself in your chair and letting your careful construct of Mia take control.

Half an hour later you're up and pacing, you've just finished a particularly tense bit of dialogue with all.. but again, just the one... seeming to enjoy themselves as they are again liking what you are showing them. You've amended small bits of your reactions as a result of your discussions with Jason regarding certain moments. Thankfully a break is called so you can scoop up one of the bottles of water they've kindly provided. You chose not to reseat yourself right away. The energy you've called upon for the scene making you a bit restless now that you don't have a way to expel it. Pacing doesn't seem to be doing to the trick so you let the character of Mia slip back into the corner where you've nestled her away in your mind.

With a glance down at the far end of the table, the casting director then checks his watch, "We;ll just call down to the lobby and see if he's made it yet... we did agree to the 10:30 - 10:45 time frame."

While he makes his phone call, you perch on the edge of your chair to scoop up the script from your bag and flip through the pages to review some of your notes. Remember how tenuous the relationship is by this time. Or Would she allow James to see how horribly he's injured her here or would she strive for impassiveness? In searching our a particular phrase you wanted to highlight you notice writing on pages you don't remember commenting on. A closer look brings you a smile. Jason has written you notes as to his feelings on the scenes. Most seeming to be in agreement with your assessment. Bless him. Your trace your fingertip over is handwriting, figuring he had written it while waiting for you to finish getting ready for your night out.

"Oh - excellent! And you already sent him up? Good!" The casting director clasps his hands together with such explosive force it jolts you out of your thoughts. "Alright, we are delighted to tell you that -"

Well. That makes twice is less than an hour that you've been surprised ( and then delighted) by the turn of events - Brett nods his acknowledgement to you.

You realize the casting director is still talking, "...And Brett's schedule being as busy as it is we weren't sure if we would be able to land him for the role, but by the time we get production underway things shouldn't be problematic. We'll try to get through this quickly..."

Your casting director is talking more to the people alongside him than you right now but you still nod in reply. You take note of the expression of those in charge - the director looks particularly pleased with himself, but again the production manager/coordinator - really, you were going to have to clarify that eventually - doesn't appear all that interested in the events unfolding. Actually, as you analyze her expression, you realize that is she seemed merely disinterested in you before, she seems to be seething now that Brett Is in the room. Wow, not doing a very good job of hiding her opinions at the moment... Obviously, it was her protestations that you overheard earlier.

Brett has finished shaking hands with those in charge and scoops you now into a gentle hug. "Surprise..." He murmurs into your ear just before releasing you.

How long had Brett been interested in the role? You think back through the odd few texts the pair of you have exchanged since meeting the night of the award show and you realize that you never mentioned this particular project while talking with him. Apparently, this is just one of those wild coincidences.

How long will your luck hold our concerning your career? You are reminded of your audition for All Your Monsters when you walked into the room and saw Will Poulter sitting there waiting for you. How did you overcome your nerves then? Right, push your own feelings aside and concentrate on the the character... Your drop the script back into the chair and take a quick sip of water while listening as the casting director gives brief directions as to what he'd like to see from the pair of you.

By 11:00 all involved seem to be on the same page regarding the casting of Brett as James and you in the role of Mia - even, to your pleasure, the production manager. You don't envy them the task of seeing the remaining people today... that exchange must be a tough one. Brett nods great fully when they acknowledge that he need to get back to filming for the current project he's working on. He waits for you to grab your bag and walks with you back towards the outside world.

"I'd be happy to drop you somewhere on my way back to the studio."

You shake your head while thanking him. "That's ok. I think I need to walk around a bit." You feel your phone vibrating into your side through the fabric of your bag. " Ah - and I have a few phone calls to make. Long story..."

The pair of your pause in the lobby to say goodbye. Brett gives your arm a brief squeeze. "Which there will be plenty of time to hear now that we're working together. I'll see you again soon."

In the hour that you've been in the callback your phone has gone nuts. You send off a quick text to Todd letting him know of the developments, omitting your little panic attack before the audition though he's surely likely to hear about it somehow. There are both texts and voicemails from Jason You read through the messages first:

Your message cut off, is everything ok?"

Everything is now.

The next:

Todd said he wasn't even aware you'd gotten there. You did go in didn't you?

Oh Damn, you forgot to tell Todd you had arrived since you were so distracted. Well, he knows now.

Forget whatever you heard. You show them how passionate you are about this character and they will have no choice but to be swayed.

Oh God, you've apparently really distracted him from his work.

Darling, answer your phone. Please. You're killing me here. Smoke Signal, carrier pigeon. I'll take anything to know you're okay.

You stop scrolling through the messages. You imagine his voicemails will be more of the same. You quickly dial his number and to your surprise, he answers on the first ring. Before he can say a word you rush out as much information as you can.

"Jason, I'm fine. Everything is fine. I did go - I'm so sorry to have worried you. I got the part, Jason!" You can hear him breathe out in reaction to your news. "I can't believe you called Todd, I'm in trouble aren't I?"

This results in a chuckle. "No you're not in trouble though I wouldn't mind putting eyes on you right now, just for good measure."

You close your eyes to fight back the emotions rising to surface. You want nothing more than to be standing with him having this conversation in person. "Hmm I probably owe everyone on your set apology cakes or something for how much I seem to have stressed you out." Another laugh comes over the line. How you love making him do that. "I very much doubt they would just let me waltz in there with a plate of cookies though... Who all did you call anyway?"

Jason considers for a moment and you can hear him being summonsed in the background which is apparently ignoring because they repeat themselves louder. He responds to them with a bit of hesitation. "Yeah, I'm on my way!"

"Jason, I know this is going to be a long day for you but... could you -" You plan on asking him to call you or at least express your desire to see him.

"Yes."

You laugh. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Doesn't matter. Yes. You had me at could you."

You try to think of something outrageous to demand of him surely because he agreed but you settle for the delight you feel knowing that you'll be able to wrap your arms around him in a matter of hours. "Okay, then." You can hear him being called more insistently and smile. "I'm really going to have to send over dozens of apology baskets. I'll call Todd to get right on that. You said tentatively you thought you'd be done by 8 tonight, right?" Jason confirms the timeframe and you add, "Ok - I'll be there when you're done. Call me if that changes. Now go before they irrevocably hate me for taking you away from work."

You take a taxi over to Todd's office after calling to both apologize for any undue stress - ok, all the undue stress. - and the request that he send over a massive basket of delicious treats to the studio where Jason is working. He laughs, "You want the note to say what?"

"Trust me, it is justified. Please Todd?" You note the taxi driver is doing his best not to laugh.

#jason sudeikis x reader #jason sudeikis #Jason Sudeikis rpf #fluff #Jason Sudeikis fluff #]x reader #Jason Sudeikis fanfic #Jason Sudeikis fanfiction #Jason Sudeikis fic #rpf #not just a girl

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meguemii · 9 months ago

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Hardy Friends.

[episode two — the morning after]

chapter synopsis :: nobara invites your for breakfast and tells you the summer plans over some breakfast

[wc : 1.2k]

navigation station. 🚉

the sheer sound of an alarm was enough to jerk you awake from a deep sleep. throwing your arm over yourself to grab the phone and turn it off. unfortunately about half an hour later another alarm started going off, finally making you get up and check the time. 8:30. ‘lovely’ you thought to yourself as you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with a yawn.

the uncomfortable and scratchy feeling from wearing your clothes from last night started to set in as well as the raging headache.

light seeping into your room through the crack of your curtains. a big groan of dissatisfaction leaving your vocal cords as you threw your head back and squirmed out of your clothes to get comfortable and burring your head into the pillows in an attempt to go back to sleep. and that’s what you did. for 10 minutes. your phone started going off again. sitting straight up and grabbing your phone yanking it off your night stand.

nobara’s contact photo displayed on your screen with ‘swipe to answer’ written at the bottom.

��what can I do for you at THIS hour?” you asked sarcastically, annoyance and sleep prominent in your voice. “hi gorgeous! wanna get breakfast? i’m on my way over now” she said so cheerily. how she did so after drinking so much was beyond you. “do not show up at my pla-“ cut off by her interrupting you, “bye love you! see you in 30!”

“girl..” you said to yourself out loud and over enunciating, dragging yourself out of bed to try and get yourself together within 30 minutes. sweatpants and a t-shirt would have to for now. you had a few minutes to think before nobara would get there. scrolling through the snapchat stories from last night you see you and yuta in the back of a photo, as well as megumi, memories from last night also flooding back into your mind. having that moment in the car with him where you actually felt like friends again. but you weren’t. shaking the thoughts of a blossoming friendship from your mind you get up to leave. making your way to the door to grab your shoes. yuuji was sat at the kitchen table with his forehead pressed against it and a glass of water and some ibuprofen beside him. “me too yuu, me too.” you said only getting a mumble from him in return. walking past him, snatching the bottle of ibuprofen, grabbing your keys and leaving your apartment you made your way to the parking garage to find Nobara’s car. 30 minutes went by way too quickly you thought to yourself.

you felt and looked disgustingly tired. your point was proved when you got opened up the car door. “Hey girl” she said looking up from her phone to look at you and her face scrunched up. “oh.. you look.. dead. you look dead.” there was never any sugarcoating it with her. “as much as I appreciate your honesty, but this is your fault” referring to your current state.

she started her car and tossed you her phone to play music, “by the way, i forgot my wallet at home so we need to stop before we grab food” nobara said as she peeled out of the parking. “it’s fine i’ll pay” you offered just wanting to get food in you as soon as possible, “sorry girl but i need my wallet which has my license in it too” you threw your head back with a playful groan.

you stared out of the passenger window people watching. the morning was a pretty quiet morning, people on their commute to work and others just enjoying their mornings. it was peaceful, especially with the soft music of nobara’s car as she hummed along. a small smile crept up your face as you turned to look at her. “i love you” it was random and she just chuckled, “i know.” moments like these made you grateful for your friends and your life.

a small bit of driving later and she pulled up to her apartment “did you wanna come up with me? i don’t know how long i’ll be.” she asked as she opened her door, “yeah i’ll come”

you guys trudged up the stairs to the 11th floor where hers and megumi’s home was, making your way to her door she played with her key ring to find the key for her door. “ladies first!” she said with a smile ushering you in. nothings changed since you were here last, except the boy who normally hid in his room was frantically searching cupboards for something.

“kugisaki, do we have any advil?” he asked still searching the cupboards, clearly unaware you were here too. “no, but I can grab some on my way home” she said retreating to her room to find her wallet.

he looked sickly. guessing you, megumi and yuji were all in the same boat. hangovers are the worst. “I have ibuprofen if you want that” you chimed in, he kinda jumped back and whipped his head around. clearly spooked at your sudden appearance. “uhh sure.” he said as you walked into the kitchen handing him to bottle “thanks..” and awkward silence sat in the air, you grabbed a glass and filled it up with water for him “don’t mention it”

“yn, i found my wallet. let’s go” she said as she exited her room towards the door with you following in suit.

you guys made it to your usual cafè get breakfast, you ordering a taro bun and an iced coffee and nobara ordering an american breakfast as well as an iced coffee.

“so megs and i have been planning something but i need yours and yuu’s full commitment.” she said breaking the silence. you just looked up at her through your brow as you ate.

“we wanna go to osaka, as a group. you won’t have to pay anything at all since mr gloomy’s dad said it’s a reward for getting good grades all year.” she just kept spitting out new information, it’s like her best tactic when it comes to convincing people.

“i’ll go, as long as he’s civil.” you told her. “don’t even worry, he’s already agreed to no bickering between the two of you.” she said.

after all that was out of the way, the two of you started discussing what you would wear and what you would do, and the kind of place you’re gonna be staying in during the rest of breakfast and as nobara drove you home.

you were about to get out when she stopped you. “I think mai and miwa are throwing a party tomorrow night, i’ll text you the details and we’re all going shopping tomorrow” you groaned as you got out.

walking into the apartment, yuuji was sitting on the couch watching some romance movie it seemed. “how does osaka sound?” you asked plopping down beside him.

“osaka?” he tilted his head. “yeah like how does it sound? all of us going. me, you, nobara and megumi”

“yeah sure, i’m down. as long as you and megs don’t argue the entire time.”

“it’ll be fine” you rolled your eyes at his comment about yourself and megumi. “he’s fine with it, in fact he paid for it all.” you got up making your way to your room. you hated when nobara or yuuji implied you and fushiguro couldn’t be civil with each other.

guess you have to be on your best behaviour this summer.

prev. masterlist. next

emi’s notes :: not proofread LOL. love you guys :3 sorry for being inactive. HAVE A CHAPTER!!

t. list — open

@kasumitenbaz @ladytamayolover @becsmarvel @hisheadismountfuji @dazaisfavgf @hfuensiekabhsufnd @hannya-exists [the ogs 🗣️] @lees-chaotic-brain @noodlejitsu

#emi’s archive ┆彡 #hardly friends.#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #college au #jjk college au

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dc418writes · 2 years ago

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When a Door Closes…

✨Pairing✨: neighbor!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Your Valentine’s Day might turn around after all

⚠️: dilf!Ari who’s extremely caring and sweet (yes that’s a warning), mention of cheating, age gap (10 yrs), pretty much all fluff

A/N🎙️: HAPPY BELATED VALENTINE’S EVERYONE☺️💕!! I hope your day was great and filled with all the love you deserve! Even if you didn’t get to spend it the way you intended (or maybe it was a day of heartbreak for you as it will be for poor reader☹️), don’t forget to show yourself love too🥰

“Back already?,” Ari, your neighbor, asks with slight concern. It’s just your luck he’d be in the hall placing his garbage down the shoot just as you arrived home with noticeably less pep than when you left.

Not to mention the white tank that barely covered his broad chest and somehow made his already thick muscles more prominent. And you weren’t even gonna start with the dark jeans on his lower half

“Yea um..things got cut short.”

By that you meant finding out you were the other woman when you showed up at your “boyfriend’s” door.

Bag of groceries in hand and your pretty pink satin dress falling to your thighs, you planned on surprising him with dinner, a little wine, and his favorite movie you ordered offline since you couldn’t find it in stores.

You practically bounce in place as you wait for him to open the door just knowing he’d love your surprise. Especially since he said he was stuck at home not feeling well.

Finally appearing on the other side, you should’ve know something was wrong when the color drained from his face as he quickly closed the door behind him like he was keeping something hidden. Your excitement and caring nature overshadowed your logic though.

“Y/N…w-what are you doing here?,” he asks in a hushed tone with a wavering smile.

“I wanted to surprise you! Plus you said you were sick so-,”

“Johnnyy,” a fairy like voice whines from the inside of his condo, “you promised you’d watch this with me.”

“Coming baby, just give me a minute!,” he sweetly calls back to the mysterious voice now leaving you confused and hurt.

“W-Who was that?,” you quietly ask as he carefully grabs the two reusable bags from your hands. Apparently impressed with the ingredients inside from his nod of approval.

“Look honey I didn’t want you to find out like this, but since you’re here…”

“Find out what?” By now you knew what he was implying, but you still wanted to hear the words from his mouth.

“I…I gotta go alright. We can talk about this later.” With a wink and that charming, snake like smile he was gone behind his door leaving you stunned in the hall of the multi-million dollar building.

Your legs eventually remember how to walk leading you down the hallway that seemed a few feet longer now. Not before you hear Johnny explain, “just the delivery girl with my groceries.”

Ari could tell there was more to your response noticing the small dot of faded mascara near the side of your eye. Their subtle red tint as if you’d cried minutes earlier. He didn’t want to pry though, simply offering you a sympathetic smile

“I’m sorry to hear that sweetheart.” Why did that name always sound so sweet yet sultry coming from him? It never failed to leave you a fluttering mess even when you knew he didn’t mean it that way.

“S’okay,” you shrug with a small smile of your own. “Can always save this dress for another special occasion.”

“Or…you could eat with us?”

“No no, it’s okay,” you wave off in search of your key inconveniently deep in your purse. “I don’t wanna interrupt your night with Mya.” It was his week with her and you’d feel terrible coming in between that.

“You wouldn’t be. She actually asked about you earlier and when she could see you.”

Hearing that has a sweet smile creeping along your lips internally making Ari glow. He loved your smile and was glad he could put it back where it rightfully belongs.

“Well, if it’s okay then sure. I’d love to.”

The clack of your heels as you follow the short distance behind Ari’s larger form alerts Mya of a new person, making her pause from her drawing to lift her head. A bright, excited smile has your own forming as she waves hello.

“Y/N, you look so pretty! I want a dress like that!”

You use your hand to cover your giggles as Ari nervously scratches his neck and stumbles over his words trying to tell his daughter no without insulting you. It was a beautiful dress that fit your curves and hugged in all the right places, but definitely nothing he wanted to find in his daughter’s closet anytime soon.

“Thank you Mya, and when you get older I know you’ll find a dress soo much prettier than this.”

He mouths an appreciative “thank you” opening the large pizza box on the counter to place a slice on her plate.

“Looks good,” you smile as he hands you your own serving.

“Daddy tried making Shakshuka, but he burned it.”

“I didn’t exactly burn it. The ingredients weren’t mixing like they were supposed to and then the longer I let it set, the darker it got.”

“So basically you didn’t know what you were doing?” Both you and Mya giggle as he sits down with his food rolling his cerulean eyes. Eventually he gives into the humor of the situation chuckling himself

“At least the table still looks fancy!” With a few candles scattered over its surface and small bouquet of colorful roses in the center, you were honestly surprised Ari did it all by himself.

“It does look really nice Ari.”

“Thanks. S’all for little bit to make sure she knows how special she is,” he softly smiles gently tapping the little girl under her chin to return her bright smile.

It’s a little after 10 when Ari walks you to your door. Ever the gentleman, he insists even though you live across the hall.

“Thanks again for inviting me Ari.”

“No problem, but you know you’re always welcome Y/N.”

Since that night you were nice enough to watch Mya for him while he ran back to the office, he’d grown to look at you as a friend just as Mya did. Always offering a seat for dinner or a listening ear if you needed it.

“I hate your day didn’t go well.”

“It’s alright. At least it didn’t get worse.”

He hoped he never met whoever this idiot was that would dare to hurt sweet, beautiful you. Ari didn’t think he’d be able to control himself

“Listen, I’m not trying to pry on the details of tonight but just remember you deserve only the best sweetheart.”

The sincerity of his words nearly has you sobbing again thinking back to Johnny and whoever that was waiting for him. Was there some grand red flag you just didn’t see? Or were you that dumb to not even notice it when it was right there in front of you?

You manage to hold yourself together responding with a quiet “thanks” and a small smile twisting your key between your fingers.

Then it happens. You feel his soft lips on your forehead and his large palm caressing your cheek just as soft and comforting as you shamefully imagined some nights.

Your lower belly flutters still feeling the hairs of his beard prickle your skin although he’s pulled away; looking at you with that soft expression that always turned you into putty.

Maybe your earlier heartbreak was for more good than you thought?

“Have a good night Y/N. And happy Valentine’s Day.”

“H-Happy Valentine’s Day Ari.”

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson au #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader #red sea diving resort

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maryannecrimsworth · 2 years ago

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Are we friends?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Guide for tormented hearts

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Selective mute reader

Warnings: this is the cutest i can get; i love reader so much; brother fight and more mystery?

Summary: Wednesday Addams almost cried in front of you. You wouldn't tell anyone — nor anyone would believe you — but it scared you. It worried you. After running from the beast in the forest and breaking down near the lake, you thought Wednesday would wish to never be near you again. Instead, she invented you to her room.

Some reader's characteristics: R has anxiety disorder, selective mutism, and is a really unique type of outcast. Reader's background it's derived from my Wednesday fic, The Hunt.

More details of Hank background and his partnership with Wednesday here.

The rush of adrenaline left your body as soon as you stood in the middle of her bedroom. The ache and exhaustion, which you knew would knock you down after meeting your father, struck you now: your legs faltered for a moment, and the blows on your back were burning.

You have escaped this time — much more skifully than you usually did — but the tension you felt when Wednesday fainted was taking its toll. Your hand instinctively went up to your forearm.

“Fuck.” You grunted when your finger dug into one of your cuts.

Fuck, I'm bleeding.

Were you bitten or did your stitches open? It was hard to tell at this point — the pain was so widespread that it was difficult to tell its source. Mayne none of it truly hurted and you were just more sensitive because of the lack of sleep. It didn’t matter: you would stay awake until your parents leave Jericho.

"Here." Wednesday covered your forearm with a towel, keeping the blood from dripping onto the bedroom floor.

Now she is a target too — a prey, just like you, but she wasn’t used to your parents’ chases like you were. She doesn’t know the tricks, the woods, the werewolves as you do. She blacked out in the middle of the forest.

Wednesday walked you over to her desk and sat you down on her chair. There was a medical kit on the table.

You wouldn't leave her there. You wouldn't leave anyone alone with your father — but Wednesday wanted that. She wasn't afraid, quite the opposite, she was the one who took you to the forest. She took you there and then she blacked out.

“Y/N.”

You looked up.

Wednesday was staring at you, her jaw stiff as if she was being ignored for a long time. She actually was. You haven’t heard a thing that she said.

“Stop scratching, you are hurting yourself.” She was right: you were scraping your cuts and stitches, breaking them open and making them bleed again.

“Sorry.” You whispered, taking the towel from Wednesday’s hands and pressuring it against your forearm. You rubbed your skin, carelessly wiping the wounds dry and then cleaning them with quick jets of disinfectant from the kit. You were rough, fast, clumsy, and managed to bandage half your arm in minutes. Voilà!

You looked up at Wednesday again, a self-satisfied, small smile on your lips, entirely different from her expression. Wednesday was horrified.

“Don’t worry.” You smiled.

“You should—”

“No.” You stood up, walking away from her.

“You better—”

“No.” You kept heading to the middle of the room, looking around nonchalantly until a cold, hard grip held your wrist.

“You have to clean it properly, otherwise you will suffer.”

"They're just scratches." You fought back, trying to free yourself.

“Dirty scratches.” She didn't let you go. She wouldn't give in. "Do it properly or else I will"

"Is this a threat or an offer of help?" You felt her grip softing, so as her gaze. The way you were smirking at her, ever so slightly and naturally, intrigued her. What an unexpected way to respond to her fuming look.

"A threat." She said, and that was the reply which made you smile more openly. You chuckled, even, before freeing yourself and sitting on the floor. Wednesday sat in front of you, watching you scratch the back of your hand and ignore her threat completely.

What was the matter with you? Were you still angry? Why were you being so neglectful of yourself?

"It was my father." You said suddenly. "My foster father. I hope he hasn't hurted you." You avoided her gaze. Your voice was stiff, too low, and the noise of your scratching increased.

"He hasn’t." Her voice, once again, made you figure change completely: you sighed, relieved, and the small smile took over your lips one more time.

She's okay. You told yourself. She is okay. You couldn't even describe the happiness you felt for it.

"It was all a test, a conversion method. I apologize that you got involved in this mess." You explained, tilting your head as you spoke. You wouldn't stop moving — it was hard to Wednesday to follow every single movement of yours. "They're usually more subtle about it, that's why I didn't want you to go. I didn't want to go because I know—"

"Why would your foster father hunt you down in the forest?" Her voice was cold, calm, completely different from yours.

"He was trying to figure out if I'm still fit for the job. For being a difficult prey."

"Are you?"

"Well, you're alive, so, aye." Your nails started to open your skin, but you kept scratching the back of your hand. "You should stay out of it. They're coming after me and Hank, not you."

"What about the stalker?"

"What?"

"The stalker."

You remained in silence while you watched Wednesday's stiff expression. If the stalker was a mystery, she would be agitated, more willing to discover their identity, inquiring more questions and demanding proper answers — but she was calm. Quiet. Simply looking at you.

She knows something.

"You know who the stalker is." You stated, your eyebrows frowned as Wednesday waited for you to come to your own conclusion. "You think they're related to my parents, to their Lycanthropy camps…" She remained in silence. "The Outcast Convention."

Wednesday stood up, heading quickly to her desk, and you followed. While she unlocked one of her drawers and searched for a small paper, your eyes focused on a larger figure, a pile of papers carefully organized and stored. A draft?

"It's from her." She turned around, making you step back, and she handed you the note. "It was tucked away in Eugene's vest."

I won, it said.

"I found it when he was being taken to the hospital."

"Did he get hurt?"

"Someone attacked him when he was looking for Aretha." Fuck. "Your new foster sister."

"Peterson's daughter." You sighed, closing your eyes as the creepy messages and texts from the stalker reappeared in your mind. It did seem just like Aretha. "Does this have something to do with your vision?"

Wednesday's expression faltered. She blinked, her hard gaze falling down for a second before focusing on your eyes again.

"No." She replied quietly. "I'm not sure what it was."

You grunted, curious, unsure if you should ask about it or not. You have seen it: Wednesday did not like sharing her personal thoughts and information. That's why you felt so guilty about the Alp's action; that's why you barely asked any question; but she had a crisis. A panic attack, she almost sobbed in front of you, and you have never seen her like that. She has never been through something like that.

"It was heavy." She started before you could make a decision. "The air, the aura, my own body. It was all too dark and...heavy."

"You seemed...scared."

"I was dazed." Wednesday looked away from you, her head now partially down. "I'm—"

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You interrupted her weak speech. Weak. What a weird word to link to Wednesday — but her voice wasn't louder than a whisper. Her state on the lake was far worse than now, but you could see the gleam of panic coming back to her eyes. Whatever it was the vision about, it clearly fragilized her. "You should try to sleep a bit." You whispered, stepping away slowly. "Take care."

Wednesday blinked and nodded, watching you walk to the door.

You were still bruised, disheveled, and dirty, but your posture was more bowed and your hands were stuck in your pockets. No more scratching, just the weird, often swing your shoulders had when you walked. As if you were a small, esquive being, ready to flee. Now Wednesday knew why you moved like that — flexive and sly. You had to or you would be caught, killed by the wolves, hunted down.

"Wednesday?" Your voice came from the doorway, making her eyes move from your body to your face. Suddenly, your cheeks were red, your shoulders were erect, your chest was puffed out — and there was this twist, frown in your lips. "Are we friends?"

"Yes."

The twist turned into a smile — toothy, large, genuine, the brightest Wednesday has ever seen. It lighted up all your features, posture and movements. It was unique — yours alone — and made you look ecstatic.

"Good night!" You shouted before sprinting down the hallway.

"Good night." Wednesday whispered.

She was smiling too.

The air, as always, felt a little denser inside the asylum's dangerous patients section. Even in an empty corridor, practically isolated and reinforced to keep a single man incarcerated, Hank could feel the fear and disgust being drawn to him. It was a heavy environment all by itself, and the curse of the Inuit man didn't help to lighten the atmosphere. Hank was in the middle of the hallway, sat in a simple chair, his eyes raised to the figure inside the cell in front of him.

"Which one I'm talking to today?" He asked.

"It depends on how many stupid questions you'll ask."

"I see that's the snarky one." Hank pretented to write something in his notebook, pressuring the pen purposelessly against the journal on his lap. As he planned, his fake-writing made the young man on the other side of the bulletproof glass stand up.

"I still wonder how you are alive." He hissed, his chains rattling because of his slow steps. "I pierced your heart."

"That's a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" Hank replied, a smirk on his lips as his fingers played with the pen. "And we've already talked about this. I absorb everything bad, you cannot kill me." Hank's phone vibrated inside his pocket and his smile dropped ever so slightly. "What if we talk about something new, something about you?"

"Does your little brother know about our meetings?" Hank gritted his teeth as the other man went on, his smile growing bigger and prouder as he watched Hank through the glass. "Oh, do not tell me I am your little secret!"

Hank sighed and took his phone out of his pocket, leaving it in his seat before standing up and signing to the camera on the ceiling.

"What scared you this time?" The cell's door unlocked and Hank walked in. "Was it another nightmare?"

The other man stepped away as Hank stepped closer, the distance being shortened as soon as the chains finally stopped him from moving further.

"Have you responded to Xavier's letters?"

"Why would I?" The man roared.

"Because he's trying to help you, to free you."

A low laughter resounded along with the buzzing of the chains. "He no longer needs to have a guilty conscience, his father's been released. Tell him to leave me alone."

"Tell him yourself." Hank retorted. "He is your master."

"He has never been my master."

The man smirked when he saw Hank gritting his teeth again.

"Who told you about Vincent?" Hank sat on a chair on one side of the cell while the man sat on his bed, on the opposite side. "Are you talking to somebody besides me?"

"You see, the guards are very chatty."

"No. They're too scared of you."

The man pretended to be offended. "Do you think of me as a liar?"

Hank's phone vibrated on the chair once again, being followed by a loud ringing which took over all the building.

"I'm done with this game. " Hank took a syringe from his jacket and the man's face dropped. "I'm coming to see you tomorrow morning. "

"No, please, don't." The man begged as Hank stood up and walked over to him, tears and sobs growing louder as the syringe got closer. His whole face changed at the sight of the syringe: the long, thick, iron needle filled with a chemical similar to the one that had started it all — that unlocked his whole transformation. "Please, not again."

Hank held the man's face. "I'm so sorry, Tyler." And he stuck the syringe in his neck.

"Where the hell were you?" Hank broke into your room, shouting angrily, sweat running down his forehead, his hands cutting the air. And you were simply laid down inside your cell.

"Uh?"

"Where have you been?"

"With my friend." You smiled at Hank, your joy and serenity contrasted with his agitation. "Can you believe it?"

"I can't! I've been looking for you for hours, how could you disappear like that?"

"You weren't at home when I left either. What's the problem?"

"The fucking problem, Y/N, is that you had just told me our parents are coming back and then you RUN OFF with the most troublesome person of Nevermore!"

"And you?" You retorted calmly, making Hank frown. "Who were you with? Why did you go out? You can't tell me it's your job."

"I went shopping with Enid." He said monotonously. "I needed more clothes after our last training."

"And where's it?" You looked at your brother: the way his eyes widened slightly before he frowned again. "You went to a best friends-shopping night out and brought nothing?"

"You—"

"Back off, Hank." You grunted, turning on the floor and turning your back to him. "Keep your lies to yourself, you're not going to ruin my day."

You could hear him sighing loudly.

"Why did you call me?" He whispered, his tone more similar to his usual voice: calm and kind, but it was still stiff. He was still mad.

"Dinner." You replied. "I'm starving."

"Okay, let's go eat something then."

"I don't want to be with you."

Hank gritted his teeth.

"I will…I will…" He shook his head, in disbelief. "You know what? Fine. Stay cranky and spend the night hungry!" Hank stormed out the room and slammed the door.

You did spend the night hungry, with nothing but books and journals fulfilling you. You did everything in your power to stay awake – and to not think about your family.

You wanted to forget your family.

And you thought you'd make it until the nightmare came back.

@cursedchar (Tyler’s development has begun 😈) @i984 (Hot N Cold is playing on my mind) @4pparecium @toournextadventure @tnnadia @colezb @elduster @efectoangel @sweetaimu @tundra1029 @rainbowsixreader @awolfcsworld @rainbow-love4ever @alexkolax @anonymousewrites

#tyler galpin #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x gn reader #wednesday addams x male reader

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