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ksfnmoments · 2 years

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The Tide Rises ~ Chapter 18

When Fade had been told Drift was around and was looking for him, he was more than a little annoyed.

Actually, annoyed was a complete understatement. He had succeeded and pushed the thoughts of his home into the corners of his mind for some time, but now, just the mention of Drift had forced them to resurface. The person who he had initially trusted to help him find a way home, who had talked to him about training and channeling his strange powers, the person from the same world hadn’t shown his face since their talk, and suddenly, he was here looking for him.

So, Fade was more than a little pissed off upon setting out to find him first and seeing him lingering near the power plant, having stopped to talk to a henchman. His kitsune mask, pink jacket, and glowing cape were discernible from a distance. Fade marched over to him, but despite his frustration, he awkwardly stood to the side in wait to be noticed. It took the henchman glancing at him several times for Drift to finally turn around. Fade spoke before he could even try. “Why did you lie to me about going home?!”

Drift was physically taken aback, enough so that he actually took a step backwards. Had he gone too far, he would have fallen into the sea. He cleared his throat, and instead of trying to avoid the question, he asked, “who told you?” He knew exactly what he was talking about.

Fade hadn’t actually expected that. Drift was the only one to not avoid the topic upon being caught. “Some agents ended up telling me on accident, and Jules showed me the storm, but why didn’t you tell me?”

Drift fidgeted with the sides of his mask and pulled it off. “Look, I just… didn’t want to get you down,” he muttered after a beat of silence. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “I mean, I know I should’ve told you, but home, it’s… not a big deal for me. Not to say it isn’t for you, of course, but…”

Without realizing, they had begun to carry the conversation down the dock. “I’ve only been homesick twice, and it wasn’t even for SoCal,” Drift admitted. “It was for Athena, our old island. I didn’t have a lot going on for me in our original world, so… it doesn’t bother me ever. But I should've told you about the island, because I know you’re eager to get back.”

“Yeah, well now I can’t,” Fade huffed. Somewhere inside him, however, he wasn’t too eager to leave just yet. The more he got used to it, the more he didn’t mind this strange island. If GHOST were to win, he would be able to find his own adventures again without limitation, and what he was eager to do was explore the entirety of the island.

The only thought really holding his thoughts hostage anymore were the thoughts of his family. His parents, his sister… he had been gone with no contact for weeks. Somewhere in his world, he was a missing persons poster. For all his family knew, he was dead, and that thought alone hurt.

He would give anything to tell them he was alright. Alas, he could not, and most likely never could.

He sighed. “It’s… fine, though. Everyone says they just wanted to keep my hopes up, so I get it.”

The conversation again turned to silence. Drift looked around. “How did we get over here?” He mused, earning a chuckle from Fade. “Well, if you want… we can try and see what you’ve got. With the rift powers and whatnot.”

Fade glanced down at his white oni mask, which was pinned at his waist. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, letting a smile pull at his face.

They followed the dock into an empty corner and sat down before each other. “So, I’m pretty sure Luminos and Dream do something similar to what you have,” Drift explained, sliding his mask back on. “They say Luminos has really strong rift powers, but he stays hidden and doesn’t use them, and I’ve actually seen Dream do some maneuvers, plus she has a really strong connection to rift butterflies. But otherwise, yeah, no one can ever find them.”

“Maybe they hang out in the In-Between,” Fade said, though he was only half-joking. “You think they would be able to help out?”

“Don’t know, but they kinda scare me, not even gonna lie. Anyway, let’s try this out.” Fade watched in awe as immediately, pink lightning sifted through the threads of his cloak, flowing through its gold and pink highlights. In his gloved hands, he conjured pink sparks of energy, which crackled, expanded, and split into several lines of lightning that bounced around and off each other if they got too close. “So, try to focus, try to channel whatever energy you feel within yourself, and maybe something will happen. I don’t exactly know, when I figured out my own powers it just kind of… happened. And now I’m used to it.”

Fade donned his mask and did exactly that, sitting in silence as he searched himself for a spark of anything, but… he felt nothing. Not even a spark. He opened one eye and peered at Drift, who was staring straight at him.

He closed his eyes again. Maybe if he thought hard enough, he could send a signal to his hands to conjure up at least a fragment of his powers as Drift had done for his own. But, as they sat in silence, there was nothing. “This… feels like a weird yoga class,” he couldn’t help but comment.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Drift said with a laugh. “Worst I could say is, ‘listen to my voice. Find your center yada yada yada.”

Fade laughed as well and went back to his mind, but truth be told, he couldn’t concentrate in silence. His thoughts had already begun to wander. Where has the rift butterfly been, anyway? What if Dream somehow sent it for me, and that’s why I’m here? What if-

Before he could think too deep, there came a bout of laughter from a short distance away along the path, as well as two familiar voices. He and Drift both looked up as Jules and Ocean ambled about, talking and laughing together with wide smiles on both of their faces. Jules was recovered enough to move around freely, and it was a wondrous sight to see her spirits lifted, especially compared to the constant state of apprehension she would be in prior to GHOST’s latest battle, which had already been a week ago. An entire week without any sign of SHADOW activity…!

“Jules!” Fade called out, bouncing to his knees a little more enthusiastically than he had aimed for, and he casually regained his composure just before she turned his way. He felt a light elbow at his side, and he looked at Drift, who raised a teasing eyebrow at him. Fade shrugged, trying his hardest to look like nothing had happened. He removed his mask and set it aside, smiling as Jules and Ocean stopped before them.

“Hey, how’s the training or whatever? That’s what you’re doing, right?” Ocean asked, glancing one last time at Jules with a small smile.

Fade and Drift looked at each other again. “It’s, uh, it’s going great,” Fade started. “We-”

“Yeah, considering we’ve done absolutely nothing,” Drift cut in, earning another bout of laughter from the girls.

“We’re not intruding or anything, are we?” Jules asked.

Fade shook his head immediately. “No, ‘course not. You guys can stay and watch if you want.”

Drift raised another eyebrow at his offer, and once again, Fade shot down whatever suspicions he was still having with a shrug. “We have to be quiet though,” he urged as the two sat down.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m a master at that, trust me,” Ocean said. This earned a collective laugh from the other three, who all knew the opposite. She elbowed Jules, who was closest.

Closing his eyes, Fade tried to concentrate, but he still couldn’t. Truthfully, he wasn’t trying at this point. He was only awkwardly sitting here to appease Drift, who didn’t even seem to know what he was talking about. He can help me, she said, he said sarcastically to himself, recalling everything Jules had told them on his second day on the island. He’s just like me, he can help me understand my magic, he said. Knowing no one could see his face, Fade opened his eyes and ended up staring at a seam in his cloak, watching as his own purple energy flowed through.

There was another snicker from Ocean’s direction, and he looked up to find her covering her mouth with her fist, trying to control herself. “Sorry,” she said between quiet wheezes, “keep going.”

Fade himself chuckled from the absurdity of their whole situation, which only prompted Ocean to completely laugh aloud. Drift took to staring at her incredulously, as if it would urge her to shut up. Of course, that only intensified her laughter again and encouraged Jules and Fade to join in, which finally earned a chuckle from Drift.

“What’s so funny?”

Kit had found his way to the scene, and once again, he was sitting atop of his mech, which had been successfully retrieved and rebuilt, as well as given a new shine and some quality of life upgrades, such as a better motor, some brand new headlights, and stronger gears. Upon seeing him, Jules’s eyes lit up and she stood up to give him (well, his mech) a hug and a quick scratch behind the ear. “Hey, Kit.”

“What are you guys doing?” He asked, sitting down to join them. Normally, he would have settled in the center of the circle or in someone’s lap, but he enjoyed having his mech back and didn’t want to leave it any time soon. “It sounded real fun.”

Ocean shushed him. “We gotta be quiet. They’re doing some important training or whatever, so we can’t distract them.”

Kit narrowed his eyes at the group. “You didn’t sound so busy when I came over here.”

That was a big enough pebble to set off another ripple of laughter, and this time, they were all in. Kit only watched in confusion, quite literally using the hand of his mech to scratch his head. Jules finally got a hold of herself enough to encourage him to power off the mech for the time being and physically join them, and from there, they abandoned the thought of training completely. Rather, they stuck to sharing stories, whether they were the backstories of their pasts or memories of their former memories of past missions and expeditions.

It felt good to have a true break.

~•~

Sorana huffed in sheer annoyance as she stepped onto the top floor, searching to no avail so far for SHADOW’s missing leader. For half the week, she had been forced to play boss, and it was more than tiresome when faced against such an unruly team of henchmen and agents, who were completely restless and apprehensive over yet another loss.

They were on top! SHADOW was winning the war; for all they knew, they already had won. It was so effortlessly amusing watching their little pawns struggle at their tiny base, their tiny corner of the island where it didn’t seem possible they could garner any control. Then, the unthinkable happened: Jules of all people had risen up and opened a small passage of light, and the resistance had grown stronger. Jules, their submissive hostage who had doomed the island, had opened up GHOST’s tunnel of hope, and thus, given them access to their strength.

How had SHADOW come to lose everything so quickly? They had finally gained total control over the island, free to do their own bidding, only to have their victories slowly reversed by who they thought was their weakest link. Their base was a mess, they were beginning to run low on henchmen and recruit waves, and their leader was on a downward spiral.

Sorana glanced around his office, which was completely darkened save for a small sliver of sunlight shining through the tiny crack under the exit door to the helipad. She could barely make out piles of paperwork spilt across the floor, several broken writing utensils and minor office supplies, and the rough surface of his desk which had definitely seen better days. They were the remnants of a man who thrived off destruction, who had too long been accustomed to some strange sense of order that came with ruling this disorganized island.

“Sir?” She whispered, in case he happened to be lurking in the shadows, one of his best talents. There was nothing, though, so she approached the final location in the building, now the only place he could possibly be. She slowly pushed open the door to the helipad, and there he stood, staring off into the distance, surrounded by a strange aura of… solemnity. Despair.

She cautiously advanced forward and stood next to him, though making sure to keep her distance from the being who she absolutely despised, whether he was her boss or not. She gazed with him at the distant docks, sneaking a glance at him in the midst. She noted how tense he appeared as he clasped his hands tightly behind his back.

It was interesting how he had changed. Years ago, she had been hired, and he was much more stoic and cruel. He would not hesitate to kill or let his recruits fall to their own failures; he would never care if they lived or died. He wanted power, and whatever happened along the way simply happened. All that mattered in the end was the fall of Midas’s empire, and once they had achieved that, there was no point to anything. Midas was basically gone, and they had nothing to do but make sure the remnants of his monarchy never saw the light.

But they had. And now, Chaos Agent was a molten being not of destruction, but of simple unbridled uncertainty and disorganization.

Sorana thought back on their two months of their thriving glory, when they were free to do as they pleased without facing an uprising. Though now, their freedom wasn’t restricted, it was no doubt that GHOST would be on their trail the second they tried anything outside of The Authority that would help their destructive urges and motivations. She missed those two months of complete freedom. “Where did we go wrong?” She pondered aloud, hoping to finally catch a reaction from her boss. “How the hell did we lose like this?”

For a moment, Chaos Agent was still, until finally, he waved his hand dismissively and immediately went back to his tense, brooding pose. “GHOST can never recover what power they had,” he simply said.

That wasn’t an answer. She must have said that aloud this time by accident, because Chaos Agent took a glance back at her before turning away again.

That wasn’t an answer either. In fact, Sorana was surprised by his lack of one, or lack of even a retaliation to her comment. “You’re weak, you know that?” She taunted again, this time in actual hopes of spurring some sort of negative reaction. Again, nothing. Not even a hint of anything; he continued staring into the distance.

This was not Chaos Agent.

She remembered this scenario, actually. It had been the same with Toxin’s death. He had disappeared completely from Steamy Stacks, and when he did return, he was silent and brooding. Then, however, he was at least snappish and even more petulant than his typical stoic mien.

It was Rue. It had to be. And the person who he kept around who showed similarities to his former best scientist had been the cause of Rue’s demise. Rue was his most trusted, and though he never explicitly stated it or showed any indication of it whatsoever, he loved her like his daughter, everyone knew. They had history when she was but an infant, all before he had been transformed into The Chaos Agent.

He couldn’t even grieve his losses. Whatever heart he had had been destroyed in his transformation, and his care for Rue and eventually Toxin were the only remnants of a loving man he was able to hold on to.

Sorana herself couldn’t be bothered to care for anyone or anything… but, somewhere deep inside her, she felt sympathy for this destroyed being. Their losses, his losses were only sending him on a downward spiral, and truthfully, she hated to see it.

With a heavy sigh, she stepped just a bit closer (but not too close). “GHOST’s gonna rue every little thing they’ve tried to do. They don’t stand a chance.”

The pun was only half-intended, not that she expected him to laugh anyway. When he continued to stand in silence, she turned to leave. Perhaps she could handle being in charge for just a bit longer.

~•~

Oh, how he hated those sharks.

It was still ironic, really, that things had turned to this. GHOST’s oldest beloved base was modeled directly after those particular sea animals, yet here the actual beings were now, dancing around the waters as if to taunt him while they swam around the vicinity. It was a threat he had been forced to be wary of every day for two months straight, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stand his conditions any longer.

He was getting desperate.

Promises, he realized long ago, were hard to keep, yet he had made multiple. A promise to tear down SHADOW alone, a promise to save his sister from their wrath, a silent promise to save GHOST… and a promise to every island inhabitant that he would defy reality and unlock their freedom, a new path of life. He hadn’t been able to uphold any of those promises thus far.

Coming up with a quick plan under pressure was one of his specialties… was. In the two months of survival his luck had scored him, he had done nothing but mope and wallow in his failures. The second he had escaped SHADOW’s grasp and wiped himself off the radar, he was lost. He had no idea how to hatch a new plan to reclaim his empire, he had no idea how he would thwart and dismantle the name SHADOW had made for themselves in the island’s center fortress.

The only resources he had to work with was a small boat stationed between the beach and a whirlpool that he dared not advance towards; a series of routers pulled from The Shark’s remains that half of the time would not power on in their waterlogged state; and a poster bearing his face that he hoped would instill in him some pride and confidence, a pride that had long since been gone. It was pride that seemed like it would stay long gone, because he hadn’t felt it since The Device’s initial success.

He was stranded and forced to peer at the remnants of one of their former bases in shame. It was all because of him that he was in his state, that his agents were adrift. All because he had the genius idea to fight the storm. All because his greatest epiphany that the storm could be fought in the first place was a complete miscalculation. All because he had counted on his sister to unlock the answers for him, all because she had failed.

No. He couldn’t pin the blame on her. He knew he couldn’t blame her, but he needed someone to throw it on so it wouldn’t fall on him. The cold truth was that he had failed, but he would not stand it. He had failed his empire. He had failed his sister.

At the very least, his agents were holding their own, as Sparkplug had informed him. He trusted them. They would take SHADOW down as he was currently failing to do, and perhaps he would one day get to call for their help and return to praise them.

…he could call for their help and return to praise them.

He had always despised the idea of asking for others' help, but he couldn't win the war on his own. That left him with a new problem, however—he was, by now, the most hated person on the island. Everyone looked at him and only saw a traitor. When everyone had counted on him, he had left them all in the dust.

There was a certain device that hadn’t left his pocket since his disappearance, however. A device that would give GHOST his location and give him the chance to assure them that he was still on their side. They would listen to reason, wouldn’t they? It wasn’t like he was waltzing in unannounced.

It was worth a try, and so he dug an earpiece out of his pockets and attempted to power it on for the first time since Doomsday.

#fortnite #i forgot to post this here smh #‘everything is 10x funnier when you’re not supposed to be laughing’#filler-ish chapter #fortnite chapter 2 #SHADOWs of GHOST #kayvi0’s fortnite storyverse

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glitchy-anime-fan · 3 years

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Cat!Atsushi spending the day with Akutagawa (hc)

This is based off my “Atsushi w/cat like urges” headcanons (will be linked below). Feel free to take this as platonic or romantic 😉

TW- mild swearing (nothing to bad, just a few mentioned here or there)

It originally started out as a way for the ADA to get at least one moment of peace to do their work without worrying about Atsushi accidentally swating something off the table or out of someone’s hands

It was one of Atsushi’s “bad days” where the cat urges he felt from the Tiger were more violent/prominent and between the broken mugs and near constant head scratches, everyone was starting to get frustrated

Atsushi included

He felt terrible for causing so many problems around the office and always got frustrated when he couldn’t control the urges the Tiger gave him

Of course no one blamed Atsushi, it wasn’t his fault his ability caused him to nap if he sat in the sun to long, or lead him to ignore people completely for no reason

But it was taking Kunikida all his will power to not yell at Atsushi when he swatted at his ponytail like it was a cat toy for the fourth time that morning

Of course Dazai, being the selfless mentor he was, offered an idea

“I have a job for you that should take up most of the day. I’ll even call Akutagawa to help out!”

It was clear as day that Dazai was scheming something, but everyone was to tired to argue.

And it would be good for the truce if the Agency and Mafia worked together more often

So thats what lead to Dazai and Atsushi walking across town to the Port Mafia HQ to steal Akutagawa on his day off

He refused to let Atsushi know where he lived, so they planned to meet at the Port Mafia instead

“Why do I have to be teamed up with him?” Atsushi had whined as they walked through Yokohama

“Because it’ll help the Agency and Mafia get along better!” Dazai had responded with a big smile as he wrapped an arm around Atsushi so he didn’t walk off

‘It’ll help You and Akutagawa get along better’ is what Dazai really meant

Luckily Atsushi’s discourage about having to spend the day with Akutagawa kept him from getting to distracted on the walk over (he only wondered off twice)

When they got there Akutagawa was patiently waiting outside the Port Mafia building, though he also looked less than pleased to be spending his day off with the weretiger

Dazai pretty much just dropped off Atsushi with a “Take care of him, and be careful around cups!” Before walking off

Atsushi and Akutagawa just glared at each other before Atsushi sighed and asked if Akutagawa was hungry

“We can go over the case while we eat, that’s all” Akutagawa didn’t argue, just huffed and started walking down the street

The first thing that Akutagawa learned about the Jinko was that if he didn’t keep a close eye on Atsushi, he would loose him in the heavy crowds of Yokohama

The first time Akutagawa lost Atsushi, the latter was helping a little girl who had gotten separated from her parents. Nothing new

The second time he lost Atsushi, he was found at one of the candy shops in town. “Ranpo-san’s birthday is coming up soon and this is his favourite shop” Atsushi had claimed

They spent much longer than Akutagawa would have liked in the candy store, but Atsushi refused to budge until he got all of Ranpo’s favourites

The third time they got separated, Akutagawa found that Atsushi had somehow been convinced to chase birds in the park with some of the little kids

Akutagawa had no idea how or when that had happened but he was already starting to loose his patience. This was the third time in the half hour since they left that Atsushi had wondered off

Akutagawa had to practically drag Atsushi by the collar to get him to leave, especially when Atsushi tried to get them to stay by giving him the big kitten eyes

It took all Akutagawa’s will power and “hatred” for Atsushi to not sigh and agree to five more minutes of running around

The second thing Akutagawa learned was that Atsushi ate...a lot...

“It’s the tiger” he had said sheepishly after scarfing down his 12th bowl of chazuke within the short time they had been at the restaurant.

Akutagawa just hummed and continued to eat his food. He wasn’t one to judge, Rashomon was the same way.

The third thing Akutagawa learned was to keep anything and everything glass or ceramic away from Atsushi

Atsushi had tried to explain that it was one of his “bad days” but Akutagawa didn’t catch on until half way through their lunch when Atsushi tried to swat the tower of empty bowls off the table

Luckily for them Aku was quick on his feet, using Rashomon to catch the bowls, and finding out it apparently wasn’t uncommon for things to get knocked off the tables according to their waitress

“The tables are pretty small, it happens all the time so don’t worry” she had said while Atsushi began to apologize profusely for the trouble

Needless to say, they took over the neighbouring table to keep their empty dishes on so they didn’t have another incident

The fourth, fifth, and sixth things Akutagawa learned was that Atsushi couldn’t sit in the sun for more then a few minutes without falling asleep, he was clingy, and he was addicted to head scratches

“Jinko, hand me that case file Dazai-san gave you.” Akutagawa had asked only to get no response from Atsushi.

“Jinko? Jinko are you listening to me?” He had asked, looking up to see Atsushi’s head resting in his arms and face towards the window. It was only when Akutagawa saw the sun illuminating his partners face did he realize Atsushi had fallen sleep.

“You have got to be kidding me...” it took Akutagawa two minutes longer than usual to wake Atsushi up. It wasn’t the first time Atsushi has fallen asleep during a mission. But it was usually during late night steak outs not in the middle of the afternoon at a restaurant. In the end Akutagawa had to blow in Atsushi’s face to get him to finally wake up.

“Huh...what’s wrong Akutagawa?” Atsushi had asked as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Akutagawa did not find it cute when Atsushi’s nose scrunched up as he stretched out his arms. He most certainly did not!

“You fell asleep”

“O-oh my gosh! I-I’m so so sorry Akutagawa! The sun makes me really sleepy! I’m sorry!” Atsushi had stuttered out, face red with embarrassment. Akutagawa just shook his head and told Atsushi it was fine.

“But sit over hear so you don’t fall asleep again, idiot”

So there they sat, Atsushi sitting as close to Akutagawa as humanly possible. Like he was borderline sitting in Aku’s lap as they looked over the files

“Jinko must you be so close?”

“Yes, it’ll be easier for both of us to read the files like this”

So there they sat, Atsushi practically in Akutagawa’s lap, his head on the mafioso’s shoulder as they read through the files Dazai gave them.

It wasn’t long before Akutagawa could feel Atsushi staring a hole into his hands. Every time Akutagawa moved his hand to turn a page or cover a cough, Atsushi’s eyes would follow like a hawk

Rather than just ask Atsushi what was wrong, Akutagawa decided to do a little experiment. He had remembered seeing Dazai pat Atsushi’s head a few times in the past, and the weretiger seemed to like it

So without much thought Akutagawa raised his free hand and rested it on Atsushi’s head. Atsushi squeaked a little in surprised confusion before eventually melting into his partners touch

That’s when Akutagawa discovered his favourite thing about Atsushi; thing seven, the jinko purred when he was happy

Though it wasn’t long before Akutagawa learned his least favourite cat trait that Atsushi had

It was getting late and both boys were starting to think Dazai had sent them on a while goose chase (took them long enough)

“I’m starting to think Dazai-san has sent us on a wild goose chase.” Akutagawa huffed out, rubbing his temples with his free hand. The other one was holding three of Atsushi’s shopping bags, apparently they were all gifts for the Agency members.

After a few moments of silence, Akutagawa raised an eyebrow.

“Jinko?”

No response.

“Jinko! Jinko are you listening to me?”

Still no response. Now Akutagawa was starting to get annoyed.

“Jinko you best not have fallen asleep again because I will NOT be carrying you back-“ When Akutagawa finally turned around he was surprised to see Atsushi still following him, and not asleep on a park bench (it had happened earlier, Aku was not happy). Though rather then looking Akutagawa in the face like his partner usually would, Atsushi was staring at his phone.

Okay. Maybe Atsushi just didn’t hear him, the weretiger did have an annoying habit of zoning out during missions when nothing was happening. So Akutagawa stopped and tried again.

“Jinko snap out of whatever trance you’re in. We’re still working remember?”

But rather than Atsushi snapping out of it, stopping in his tracks and apologizing like usual, he just continued walking down the street. It was almost as if he was ignoring Akutagawa.

“Jinko are you ignoring me!? Where are you going!?”

Still no response. Now Akutagawa was getting pissed. No way in hell was he just going to stand by and allow his cat like partner to just ignore him after all the babysitting he had to do! Atsushi had walked off three more times after lunch and Akutagawa did not want to be dragged around another department store.

So Akutagawa stormed over to Atsushi, grabbed his shoulder, spun the weretiger around, and snatched his phone.

“Atsushi look at me damn it!”

That seemed to pull Atsushi out of his daze. ‘Finally!’ Akutagawa thought as Atsushi looked up at him, purple and gold eyes blinking a few times before registering what was happening.

Suddenly Atsushi’s face turned a deep red and his face dropped in horror; Akutagawa had him by the shoulder, Atsushi’s phone in hand, and had actually used his name for once. He messed up and he messed up big.

“A-Akutagawa...I-I-I’m so so so so so s-sorry! Oh, it happened again, and in public this time! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to, I just kind of zone out and oh my god your probably angry with me now!” Atsushi scrambled out in a mix of embarrassment, guilt, and fear. It was one thing when he accidentally ignored the ADA members...it was another thing to ignore Akutagawa.

Noticing Atsushi’s nervousness, Akutagawa let out a long, drawn out sigh and let go of Atsushi to run his hands over his face. While Akutagawa didn’t appreciate being completely ignored like that, he could tell Atsushi wasn’t doing it on purpose. Honestly, he was starting to think that none of the weird things Atsushi had done today was on purpose.

“It-its fine, just don’t let it happen again”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll try!”

It wasn’t long after that till they realised they had, in fact, been sent on a wild goose chase and neither one was happy about it

“Dazai-san! I can’t believe you would send us out on a fake mission like this! Well, actually I can believe it, but still!” Atsushi had said the moment they entered the ADA office

Dazai, of course, was laying on the couch with a smile on his face that clearly screamed, ‘But you both had a good time didn’t you?’

Despite a few hiccups here and there, Akutagawa and Atsushi had to admit that the day wasn’t all that bad.

They still kicked Dazai off the couch though. They were tired and needed a minute to sit.

It wasn’t long before Atsushi had passed out again, his head laying in Akutagawa’s lap this time.

“Do you want me to move him Akutagawa? It’s getting pretty late?” Dazai had asked when he noticed the silver haired boy had gone quite.

Akutagawa glanced down at his partner; he had covered Atsushi with his jacket so only his face was visible, but even so his face looked the most relaxed it had been all day and he could hear Atsushi’s purring as he combed through his hair. A ghost of a smile tugged at Akutagawa’s lips as he shook his head.

“No, it’s alright. It seems he’s claimed my lap for the time being”

Wow okay, this is my first time doing a set up like this! I hope it turned out good 😅. Like I mentioned earlier this is based off of a mini series on my tiktok (@bigglitchcos) about Atsushi if he had cat urges. Someone had mentioned doing a skit where Shin Soukoku spend the day together, so here’s my take!

Cat!Atsushi hc pt 1 | Cat!Atsushi hc pt 2

#bungo stray dogs headcanons #cat!atsushi #shin soukoku #atsushi headcanons #atsushi nakajima #ryunosuke akutagawa #i thought the ending should be kinda cute and wholesome #I may have accidentally made it a little fruity instead #you can’t tell me Dazai wouldn’t send them out on a fake job just to get them to hang out #bungou stray dogs #bsd #armed detective agency #port mafia #osamu dazai #doppo kunikida #Akutagawa gives the best head scratches change my mind

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modern-vellichor · 3 years

Note

Could i please request a buckyxf!reader oneshot that is set after endgame (twatws time maybe?) and the reader is a powerful avenger. Bucky and reader are friends and are very close (but make it mutual pinning and (not actually) unrequited love). Eventually, Bucky confesses his feelings but the reader thinks that they can’t be together because she knows that Bucky wants peace, but there’s no peace in her life. She is a fighter, always has been and always will be, and she loves it. She loves Bucky and wants him to be happy, even if it’s without her. You can ending either sad or happy, for your liking :)

Anyway, thank you💕

angsty ending. I'm sorry :(

Warnings: blood, injury, angst, explicit language, alcohol consumption.

"I'm glad you're talking to him again, Buck. He missed you, he really did," you hummed softly. "I missed you, too."

You pulled your old friend in for a hug. He hugged you back and you sighed happily.

You had missed him, terribly. You were usually very close, he was one of the only people he kept in touch with. Steve was dead, him and Sam were on the rocks, and it's not like he's going to reach out to Tony or Bruce for evening drinks. And then one evening you received a text.

'Reached out to Sam. Gone on mission. Will be back soon.'

And those three short sentences sent you reeling. You spiraled into a whirlpool of worry and grief. You texted and called Bucky, but it was to no avail. And so you tried Sam, he didn't answer either. You were on the verge of reaching out to Sam's work friends when you got a call.

"Hey."

"Bucky? Oh, my God! Bucky where are you?"

"Uhm, Madripoor. Sam and I need help."

"I'm gonna kill you, Barnes. Had me worried half to death."

"See you soon, doll."

"Yeah, whatever."

And so you went to Madripoor to rescue his ass. And then spent the plane ride home ranting his ear off about how stupid an idea it was.

It was because you loved him. You had loved him since you rescued him from the clutches of HYDRA. You had loved him through thick and thin, through alien invasions and titan fights. But you would never tell him. You were a powerful avenger, and dating a superhero was the last thing Bucky needed.

Bucky wished he could have you. Sometimes it seemed as if you were the only thing keeping him sane. He liked to bury his face in the crook of your neck and breathe you in until the world faded into the background. You kept him grounded. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to have you on his arm at all hours of the day.

You hauled yourself out of your seat, slapping Bucky over the head as you made to the galley. Intent on making yourself some coffee, you were still on New York time and you weren't about to mess it up. Bucky stormed after you.

He crammed into the galley behind you. You ignored him.

"Can't ignore me forever, doll."

"I'm pissed at you, Barnes," he put his hands on your waist. "Hands off before I break your wrists."

"I only have one breakable wrist."

"Would you like to test that theory?"

Your voice was so cold and sinister that his hands immediately retracted. You cooed mockingly at him.

"What you did was stupid," you chastised. "Breaking Zemo out of prison? Idiot move. If Sam and I have to go on the run again, I'll kill you. And that's both a threat and a promise."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you know how scared I was? You could have texted or called or sent a fucking pigeon or something!"

That was the end of the conversation. You took your mug and pushed past him to sit next to Sam. It wasn't until you landed that you spoke to Bucky. And that was just to say that you'd be over next week.

Bucky had set up dinner for the evening you were due to visit. HE had gotten roses and lit candles, an apology. But you never showed. So he turned on the news. You had fled to Honduras to for a mission. The next week you were in Syria, and the next in Scotland. It was Bucky's turn to be worried.

You knocked on his front door twice. He rushed to let you in. You pushed past Bucky, blood leaked from your bruised temple. Your nose was crooked and bloody and mangled. Your teeth were a disgusting orange as your lips bled. You spat into Bucky's sink and grabbed a beer from his fridge.

"What happened to you?" He asked sternly.

"Work."

"Sit down," he commanded. "Where have you been? You keep promising to visit and then bailing."

"Work."

He huffed and cleaned your wounds.

"I worry about you," Bucky confessed.

His brow was furrowed. The sincerity in his voice was new. You took a swig of your beer and said nothing. Bucky sighed. He leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

"I love you."

You pushed him away from you. You made for the door but Bucky blocked your path.

"Out of my way, Barnes."

"No."

"You don't love me, move."

"I do."

"Then fucking stop!" You pushed him away from you. "I'm not good for you. Look how well you're doing. All the work you've done to get better will go down the drain if I'm coming home bloody and bruised every other evening."

Bucky said nothing. Tears welled in your eyes and you blinked them away. You made for the door and slammed the door behind you. Bucky called and texted. Every once in a while he would get an 'I'm fine' text. You never came over, you never called.

Bucky saw you on the news sometimes. He laughed when you met John Walker and nearly broke his wrist when he tried to hug you for a photo. Sam said that you were just trying to keep Bucky safe. But Bucky missed you, and so he pushed all his feelings down again. He never spoke of you, he never uttered your name. And it all seemed fine.

There was still a bloodstain on his kitchen floor from when you were her last. Sometimes he looked at it and sobbed. Sometimes he broke a plate, but he never, ever reached out. Because apparently, you didn't miss him either.

@lizzarooni

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky angst #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n

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lennonknowsmysins · 3 years

Note

could you do the gangster au but the “turning point” in their relationship?? i love your work so much 🥰

pt. 3 to gangster!George

tw: mobster gets a little too handsy, mild violence, arguing

You and George had been married for a month and you’d had maybe five conversations with him. He was a reserved man but you weren’t sure what else you expected from a gangster. Truthfully, you weren’t sure you minded. Since your conversation with Cynthia, Linda and Maureen, he didn’t put you on edge every time he was in the room but he still intimated you. George was practically always working, spending all day in his study (which you still had yet to see) and coming to bed late. He never tried to wake you up but you still liked to wait for him, pretending to be asleep.

Realistically, you figured you shouldn’t be too upset with him for not making much of an effort to get to know you considering hadn’t attempted to reach out to him either. Still, when the only time you really saw him was dinner and he spent most of the time talking to his mates, you couldn’t deny that you felt ignored. It wasn’t like you were thrilled to be married either.

The real struggle was trying to find something to do with yourself. Normally, you’d be busy with school but part of your father cutting off your freedom including forcing you to drop out of university. Now nothing seemed to hold your interest.

Linda, who you learned was a journalist (making her and Paul’s relationship taboo in the mob world), had begun enlisting you to spell check her articles. You spent a good amount of time with Cynthia as she’d invited you to help her paint the baby nursery. She was a lovely woman and you enjoyed her company but even as you painting those little blue birds and bounced baby names off one another, you couldn’t help the looming feeling of loneliness. You were just disconnected from the rest of them. Cynthia, Linda and Maureen were involved with each others lives while you...well, you were just there.

You were manifesting that your first public outing with George - some sort of annual gathering for allied mobs - would do something to help the disconnect between the two of you.

Upon entering the mansion, you pressed yourself closer to George. You may have not felt entirely comfortable with him but since Cynthia and Linda hadn’t been able to come (Cynthia because she was pregnant, Linda because of her profession) and Maureen was very much looking forward to having a date night with Ringo, George was your lifeline for the night.

The hall was full of men in fancy suits with dark looks in their eyes, most of them appearing to be twice your age. One by one, they came up to George, asking him about business deals and his father before eventually landing on you, at which point, George thankfully steered you away.

“Sorry about all of them.” George apologized, finding a seat on a couch in the corner of the room, “They’re swingers, the whole lot. ‘s why my da stopped coming to these events.”

You snorted as you sat down, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am. They’ve been dropping hints that they’re interested in an orgy ever since we got married. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how to tell them no.” George said, shooting you a look. You burst into laughter, making George smile.

“Wait here, I have to talk to someone but I’ll be right back.” George told you, squeezing your shoulder before standing and beckoning to Paul. Paul smiled at you apologetically, following George and leaving you all alone in the corner. You watched Maureen dance with Ringo. You wished Linda and Cyn were here, if George wouldn’t dance with you, you were sure they would. At least, you wouldn’t be lonely.

Your bottom lip trembled but before you could feel too sorry for yourself, you felt the couch dip. A handsome blond man with the most dazzling blue eyes you’d ever seen had sat next to you. He wore a suit of velvet purple and had a martini glass in one hand and a curious grin on his face. A feeling of dread immediately crept into your gut.

“Now, why would a lovely lady such as yourself be sitting here all by herself?” He hummed in a confident tone. Unsure of how to react to the situation, you turned your eyes to your drink, swishing the clear liquid around.

“Waiting for someone.” You murmured back. You could’ve sworn that as soon as you’d said that, he scooted closer to you.

“You can call me Yates.” He said, although you hadn’t asked, “I don’t believe I caught your’s?”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I’m not sure I feel comfortable telling you that.”

“Aw, why not? Is it because I’m a big, scary gangster?” Yates chuckled, definitely scooting closer this time. He continued when you didn’t respond, “That’s fine baby, I’ll come up with one for you. It’s just important you know mine so you know what to scream later.”

Your face twisted in disgust and you would’ve attempted to get up had it not been for his hand curling around your thigh. The sudden grip made you freeze, giving Yates a chance to press himself against you.

“Let go of me. I’m here with my...my h-husband.” You stammered, trying to sound tough.

“Come on now, you don’t sound so sure of that. I doubt that George is that much of a husband anyhow.” He leered, tapping your cheek. Just as you were about to retort, Yates was being dragged off of you.

An angry George stood before you, clutching Yates’ collar in his fist. Everyone around you had stopped what they were doing to watch you.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch my wife.”

With that simple warning, he dropped the creep and grabbed your wrist, pulling you from your seat. As he brought you to the exit, the crowd resumed the party as though nothing had happened. You assumed this sort of thing happened often at mob events.

Once you were outside, George let go of you to light a cigarette, not bothering to look at you as he took a drag. John and Paul burst through the door after you.

“What the fuck just happened mate?” John asked.

“Yates had his hands all over (y/n).” George spat bitterly. The two men turned to you, shivering in your dress.

The alarm on Paul’s face dropped to concerned, “Are you alright, love?”

“I’m fine. Just a bit freaked out.” You shrugged, still trying to process the event. You hadn’t seen George this angry before.

“Yer cryin’.” John pointed out bluntly. You blinked, touching your cheek. Huh. You hadn’t realized.

George tilted his head towards you with an unreadable expression. He placed the cigarette between his lips, shrugging off his suit jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“‘m taking her home.” He decided, putting an arm around you, “Paul, can you take John, Rich and Mo in your car?”

“Course, but-”

George didn’t wait for Paul to finish, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards his Mercedes. You glanced behind you to see Ringo and Maureen had joined John and Paul, who were explaining the situation to them. You caught Maureen’s sympathetic look before the car door closed.

The entire ride was silent, an awkward, bitter silence sitting between you and George. He didn’t even look at you as you walked up to the house, leaving the door for you to close.

“Go to bed.” George ordered gruffly, his back turned to you as he headed toward his office.

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. He hadn’t really just spoken to you like you were a misbehaving child and not his wife.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

George paused. Then he turned around, his eyebrows set in annoyance. He wasn’t used to people questioning him, “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were joking about telling me to go to bed.” You huffed, rolling your eyes, “You know, just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean you control me.”

He glared at you, his eye twitching as he tried to think of a response. You saved him the trouble,

“For the record, you didn’t have to make such a big scene back there.”

“He had his hands all OVER you!” He spluttered, spit flying from his mouth, “And it wasn’t like you were doing anything to stop him!”

“I was scared, a strange man was invading my space because my husband completely abandoned me at a party where I didn’t know anyone!” You shout, your voice shaking as it echoed through the ridiculously large foyer.

George’s sour expression softened and you notice he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He swallowed thickly, “I had to talk to someone.”

“You still left me all alone.” You whispered angrily, “I know that this isn’t what either of us wanted and if I could, I’d go back and stop my father from getting us in this situation but we don’t have that choice.

You took a shuttering breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before continuing,

“George, I get that we’re from two completely different worlds but I just had mine completely uprooted for your’s. You’ve barely spoken to me since the first two days after the wedding. For god’s sake, we sleep in the same damn bed and I don’t know that we’ve ever had a conversation. Y’know, the only thing I actually know about you is that you’re a mobster? I...I was just really hoping that tonight could fix that.”

George’s face didn’t change throughout the course of your rant but there was something that looked like a mix of surprise and guilt in his brown eyes. Ever the man of few words, he didn’t respond - you didn’t know if he didn’t want to or if he didn’t know how. You shook your head.

“No, no, you know what? I am gonna go to bed. I need some sleep.” You muttered, turning away from him and storming up the stairs without another word.

Linda was waiting for you at the top of the stairs but you brushed by her in silence, too pissed for any intellectual conversation. You slammed the bedroom door shut, not bothering to turn the lights or take your clothes off. You curled up above the covers, looking out the window.

The wind blew softly, gently rustling the leaves of the tree peaking through the glass. A single tear trailed down your cheek as you thought about how you hadn’t even gotten to dance with George. The night had been spoiled from the start.

At some point, you finally managed to fall asleep, missing the lanky, mop toped figure that took your shoes off and tucked you in.

#not sure i like how i played this out but i was tired of working on it oop #gangster au #gangster!george #gangster!beatles #george harrison x reader #beatles x reader #george harrison

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izupie · 5 years

Text

‘Cat Therapy’ - Kyoru Week Day 1 - [Stay]

(I made it! Day 1! On time!)

(Fluff, Kyo Swears A Lot, Character Study. Part 1 of 2)

@kyoruweek19

[AO3 Link]

Day 1 - Stay - ‘Cat Therapy’

The first few times Kyo heard her coughing he didn’t even really register it. She’d been cooking the evening meal for them all at the stove like always and it was just the occasional little sound that she muffled with her hand. Nothing to worry about, nothing to note. While they’d been eating, she’d covered it up so well he forgot he’d even heard her coughing at all.

The next day it got worse.

Kyo firmly told her to stay home from school the minute he saw her. She coughed even while she shook her head, but it had clearly kept her up all night, though she’d somehow masked it well enough that it hadn’t woken even him – and he was a notoriously light sleeper. (Probably a Cat thing.)

She looked at him with horror at his suggestion, but her usually bright brown eyes were glazed with the look of someone trying to mask their discomfort.

She’d had a cold recently, but it hadn’t seemed that bad because she’d still been making it to school, and she’d been straight on the cold remedies to treat the symptoms, instead of letting herself get as bad as last time. Nobody had expected her to get this kind of cough as an aftereffect. She’d probably kept so much of it inside instead of blowing her damn nose that she’d made her chest bad. As if on cue Tohru turned away to cough with a violence that shook her tiny frame and made him wince in sympathy.

Of course, Tohru had naturally tried to get dressed and go to school today, insisting she was fine, despite her weakness from all the coughing. Her cheeks looked pale and pasty from the lack of their usual pinkness and even her smile wobbled with the effort it took to put it there.

She looked like shit.

And yet… each time she broke into a coughing fit she’d turn away, like she was ashamed and embarrassed, clutching her chest with the effort of trying to repress it, and he’d feel his heart clench. His hands had balled into fists before he’d even registered it and he was yelling at her to stay at home before he could stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

He was powerless to help her from her own symptoms; from her pain, her discomfort, her guilt and embarrassment, and that pissed him off. Give him something to fight for her and he’d do it. Standing around and just ‘letting her get better’ was not his style.

Especially when she was so bad at looking after herself. She never seemed to give herself the consideration she gave everyone else.

When she coughed so hard for so long that she started gagging the three Sohmas had eventually persuaded her to get back into bed. Despite her loud and frantic denials. “Miss more school,” she’d said in a panic, “I-I can’t. I-I made a promise. I can- I can still go, I’m feeling better, I-”, but whatever she’d wanted to say after that got cut off by the painful sound of her coughing and wheezing.

He was glad when she’d gone back to bed and he didn’t have to look at her pathetic face anymore. Shigure had reassured them that he’d be staying at home all day writing, so he’d listen out for her in case she needed anything, and that he was going to call Hatori to see what he could do for her. It was a surprisingly emotional speech for someone who didn’t really care all that much either way. He just knew what retribution would be waiting for him from the rest of the family if he didn’t look like he was trying to help.

Kyo swore it was like she’d somehow earned the love of the whole damned messed up Zodiac.

School was a trial that day. Even more than usual. He alternated between glaring at people and glaring at the classroom clock. Neither did anything to help. His classmates were determined to know the source of his bad mood, bugging him relentlessly between classes, and that damn rat wouldn’t stop huffing at him with a feigned ignorance whenever he was asked about his ‘sour cousin’. And the clock refused to go faster.

He wasn’t sure why he was even that bothered about whether Tohru was well or not. She’d been sick before and he’d been angry about it before, but this time he was taking it even worse. He just knew while he was at school, he wasn’t at home, and that meant he had no idea how she was. Was she still trying to hide her coughs? Was she getting worse? Would she need to go to hospital? While the same knot of questions bounced endlessly around his head, he was continually denying the guilt settling in his stomach for not taking her seriously that first night. He hadn’t even really noticed. He hadn’t asked her if she was okay. That damn Yuki probably had while he’d been out of earshot – then why didn’t he do something about it then? He could have called Hatori over right away. Maybe that would have prevented how pathetic she looked this morning. The rat should have done something dammit. Isn’t that what he always did? Swooped in and saved the day?

Kyo’s mood darkened enough that his classmates finally seemed to sense that it would be best if he was left well alone.

He glared at Yuki instead. But he didn’t notice.

And then, finally, he was able to go home.

He took the long staircase back to Shigure’s house two at a time, easy with his long legs and supernatural balance – (good for sleeping in trees without falling out and for racing up ridiculously tall and narrow steps without falling over, he noted.) It was odd that he wasn’t even bothered that he hadn’t caught his breath back by the time he’d flung the door open and kicked his shoes off, so that his breathless question of, “How is she?”, came out as one word.

Shigure looked up from his newspaper and raised his eyebrows high. “Well, aren’t we the concerned one today? Did you race all the way back from school to find out how our poor Tohru is fairing?”

Kyo didn’t have time for Shigure’s shitty habit of answering questions with questions, but he gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to lose his temper – knowing that was exactly the reaction the damn dog was looking for.

Shigure laughed. “Oh, well now, that’s certainly a dark look. You’re so easy to tease Kyo, I’m always glad when you come home from school.” He wiped pretend tears from his eyes.

Kyo was one more comment away from telling him to piss off and just going up there himself, but Shigure’s expression finally became more serious as he pointed towards the ceiling.

“She’s resting. Hari gave her some medicine for her chesty cough, and it’s eased. He doesn’t think it’s a chest infection, but she needs to take the medicine twice a day to help it get better, so it doesn’t turn into one. So make sure she has it, Kyo.”

“What? Why me? I’m her friend, not her mo-” Kyo clamped his mouth shut. Bad choice of words. Bad choice of words.

Shigure said nothing but his eyebrows raised even further.

Gods what did she ever do that was bad enough for the universe to decide she deserved him as a friend?

Kyo heaved a breath, calming down after realising his shitty mood had made him say the wrong thing again, and was glad Tohru hadn’t heard him.

Shigure let the weight of Kyo’s cut off word hang in the air for a moment more, then he shook his newspaper taut in front of him, it stood straight with a satisfying snap, and let his eyes roam the pages as if he was reading – even though kyo knew he wasn’t.

“It’s a shame we don’t own a cat,” Shigure said.

“What?”

“A cat, Kyo. Don’t you know?” he went on in an innocent voice. “Cats are supposed to be good for relieving stress.” Shigure couldn’t quite stop the quirk of his mouth at the irony. “It says right here that something happens in your brain when you pet a cat. It makes you feel calm and it even helps with the healing process. If we had a cat Tohru could hold it in bed and feel much better,” he sighed, placing a palm to his cheek dramatically.

“Y’know what – I don’t have time for you today,” Kyo snapped, storming out of the room.

One quick google search later confirmed that Shigure hadn’t been lying through his teeth for once. There were different levels of evidence and success in the studies he looked at online, but it looked like there might actually be some science behind it. Kyo threw his phone onto the bed and dragged a hand over his face. He looked over at the door to his bedroom but stubbornly snapped his head away from it. No.

No. No. No.

No way.

But Yuki wasn’t home yet, so maybe he was stuck doing council stuff after school, and Shigure was reading downstairs…

Kyo shook his head, hating the burning sensation in his cheeks.

No. Way.

There was nothing he could do about the cat thing, he decided. But it wouldn’t hurt to check on her anyway.

When he knocked on her door softly, she answered straight away with a cheerful, “Come in!”.

Kyo entered to see Tohru in her pajamas, sat up under the covers of her bed with her hands folded in her lap. Her cheeks were much pinker than they’d been before school and she’d tied her hair into pigtails to keep it out of her face. The smile she flashed him made something warm spread through his chest.

“Kyo, welcome home! How was school?” Tohru chirped.

“U-Uh yeah. It was fine.”

Kyo was stood tense and rigid by her doorway, his arms folded, and her smile faltered a little in the face of his awkwardness. He hated that he was making her feel uncomfortable, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about what Shigure said.

He tried to cast it out of his mind as he approached her bedside slowly. “But how are you feeling now anyway?”

“Much better, thank you. Hatori gave me some medicine.” She enthusiastically gestured towards a clear bottle of green liquid on the side table next to her.

“And you have to drink that stuff?” Kyo scoffed, peering down at the gross looking liquid. “Looks nasty.”

Tohru giggled in response, the sound tingled straight down his spine, but the effort made her fall back into a small coughing fit. It didn’t have the intensity of what she’d been doing that morning though, so he was reassured that the nasty medicine was at least working.

He placed a soft hand on her shoulder, surprising himself by the way he was always seeking to use touch as a comfort for her, and she bent over low as she tried to suppress the coughing. Kyo’s hand slid to her back and rubbed in slow circles as her small body shook. “If you need to cough, do it as loud and as long as you want, ‘kay? Don’t hold it in, you’ll only make it worse.”

Tohru heaved in a breath and nodded, though she didn’t make any effort to sit back up, and Kyo didn’t stop his hand from circling over her back.

Finally, his hand stilled. “Tohru,” he said softly, unable to stop the soft question from tumbling from his mouth, though he could feel the tips of his ears beginning to burn, “c-can I… hug you?”

“E-Eh?” Tohru squeaked, sitting back up so quickly her pigtails whipped around her.

“I- uh- I heard that cats… make people feel better or something dumb like that. Agh, pretend I didn’t ask. That was a stupid thing to ask-”

“Y-Yes.”

“What?”

“Y-Yes. You c-can.”

Neither of them could seem to look the other in the eyes. Kyo sucked in a breath. He suddenly became unsure of how to actually, do the hugging. Should he just lean down? Put his arms around her? He felt like an idiot.

“S-Sorry,” Tohru suddenly whispered, hiding her face in her hands, “I-I shouldn’t have said yes. Please don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, I don’t want to cause you any trouble, you should just go and I’ll be okay I-”

His arms went straight around her middle. She gasped as his chin briefly, oh-so briefly, rested on her shoulder and his body touched hers, but then the transformation tugged at that strange place in his stomach and his whole body went numb – always the worst part even though it lasted barely longer than a second. A cloud of orange sparkles cleared from his vision as he looked up at Tohru’s red face from among his clothes from his new position on the bed.

“I’ll stay,” Kyo said with a flick of his tail.

#kyoru week 2019 #kyoru #kyo x tohru #fruits basket #fruits basket fanfiction #my fanfiction

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haildoodles-writing · 4 years

Text

Where the Sky Meets the Sea - Prologue

A Detroit: Become Human fic. AO3

Summary: It’s been nearly a year since the deviant uprising--since Markus and his followers protested peacefully for android rights and deviancy spread like a wild virus. Rose Huggins, an old friend of Hank Anderson, had helped along the sidelines, quietly doing all she could to aid the newly established people. And after months of hard work on both sides, androids and humans found some semblance of peace . . .

But when sporadic disappearances occur and strange evidence begins to show up at the DCPD, everything is flipped on its head. And Rose, for better or for worse, will be its turning point.

Word Count: 3758

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x OFC

CHAPTER WARNING: Content in this chapter deals with some elements of domestic abuse, and thus may be triggering to some readers. If you or a loved one are experiencing any sort of domestic abuse, please do not hesitate to reach out to those who can help and offer support. We are here for you, and we love you.

A/N: Welcome to WTSMTS, aka the dbh fic I’ve been planning on making for an eternity. I honestly don’t know how people will take this fic, and if it’ll even gain traction at all, but it doesn’t matter--I’ve been having fun making it, and I wanted to share it with you anyways! Enjoy <3

* * *

Rose Huggins had been feeling like she was being watched.

Lately, it had been as if the hairs on the back of her neck and the goosebumps on her arms knew something she didn’t--especially at night. She didn’t know why.

Taking the backroads, though sometimes revolting, proved to be a much faster method at getting home in the evenings. And so after her shift at Jimmy’s Bar or the rundown Thai restaurant next door, Rose would slip through the back and onto the garbage-ridden alleys, avoiding the main streets completely.

Sure, it was unnerving, and she used to jump at any rat crossing near her feet or trash bag shifting in the breeze. But after two years into working both jobs, she came to learn that the dreary atmosphere was better than being late. She had a dull ache in her pinkie finger and an Urgent Care visit on her record to prove for that.

That night, a regular from Jimmy’s had slipped out the door behind her and managed to catch her off guard. He had drunkenly stumbled after her for the past few blocks, somehow keeping track of her despite his twisted footing. And the comments he threw at her, at the bystanders, at the world in general--

It was safe to say that Rose wanted to vomit.

Had it been early enough into the night, she would have sprinted to the train station and avoided him altogether. But it was too late by now, and she didn’t have the cash for a cab, so had to resort to simply keep him at a safe distance as she led him away from her home. At least he was too drunk to notice she was practically hugging the main roads.

Rose had managed to lose him for good when she finally calmed. Her clutch on her keys loosened enough to swing back and forth—she was back on track to the house now; maybe a few minutes away. Close enough to see the DCPD lights and parked police cars near the main road. If she had time, she could have possibly stopped by, perhaps say hello to Hank Anderson and Gavin Reed—likely still there at this hour— and maybe string enough words together to have a conversation with Connor.

Connor, who had shown up a year ago to catch deviating androids, only to become a deviant himself. Connor, who practically became Hank’s own son after the revolution calmed down enough. Connor, who made her throat constrict and her chest feel like it was going to collapse every time she saw him.

The thought of seeing them--seeing him--was tempting, and she slowed to a halt at the steps of the DCPD. But then her pinky ached again, as if a steady reminder, and she decided that stopping by wouldn’t be the best idea. So she hurried home, ignoring the buzzing phone in her back pocket and the omnipresent feeling that she was being watched.

But no matter how much the back of her neck itched and how many creaks and shuffles sounded right behind her, she never found anything. Only the wind, and the snow, and the distant sounds of Detroit.

She managed to reach the townhouse safely, climbing up the steps and twisting the key into the lock before noticing that the door was already slightly ajar.

It was strange--her father always bolted up, even when he was home. He was always paranoid.

But the television was blasting from inside and kitchen lights were on, so Rose knew her father was there, at least.

So she cracked open the door and slipped through, careful to avoid the street lights shining into the doorway.

“You’re late,” a voice sounded from the couch. Harsh and gravelly, as if sifting through cobbled dirt. Something stirred in the pit of Rose’s stomach, twisting, but she snuffed it out without thinking twice.

“Sorry, Father. Work kept me a little bit later than usual,” she lied through her teeth, pulling her shoes off and placing them neatly in her corner. And then she headed directly for the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a can of beer from the bottom shelf.

“Well tell your work to piss off next time, Rosy,” her father grumbled. But then he heard the beer top opening and huffed, leaning further into the couch and holding a waiting hand out.

Her chest seized at every can she gave him, every bottle he demanded with an open hand. But it was usually only at night--and he stopped talking, at least. Stopped berating her, for just a moment longer. Better drunk and incapacitated on the couch than drunk and throwing things.

Or drunk, and missing. That was the worst one.

Her father took the can and inspected it, slandering the brand name. “Why’d you have to get this one, Rosy? You know better,” he snapped, even though he already had a few of the same cans empty around his lap. Either way, he was the one who had bought it—or had stolen; she didn’t really know how he got his supply anymore. All she knew is that she never bought anything herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said anyway.

He merely grunted and sipped from it, ignoring her completely. She dropped her hand from the back of the couch, a breath escaping her—but then fingers shot out and gripped her wrist, squeezing. It was nothing she couldn’t handle — but his thumb was pressing on a bruise through her shirt sleeve, and it made her breath catch.

He squeezed for a moment longer, sighing. “Clean this mess up,” was all he ended up saying, releasing her wrist to gesture to the pile of trash he sat in. But then he fell silent, and Rose nodded, leaving him to float between realities for a while.

She crept upstairs, head low until she reached her room at the end of the hallway. Her chest heaved out a sigh, her shoulders dropping as she walked into the bedroom.

And as she changed into her painting clothes and prepped her easel and paints in the corner of the room, and as she painted until she could finally feel, Rose longed for something other than this life she had put herself in.

* * *

Whenever a case of his wasn’t improving, Gavin Reed became one of the usuals at Jimmy’s Bar.

When she first met him over a year ago, Rose constantly had to fight the twinge of annoyance every time he chatted her up. She had to bite her tongue to keep from huffing when he would vent about androids, of all creatures, infiltrating the DCPD. But then, through his arrogance and ranting, he would sometimes pause. He would ask her about her day, about what she did, and genuinely seem interested in it. Something not a lot of people did that often.

So she would withstand his . . . Gavin-ness, every time he came in. If only for those small moments that he acted like a decent human being.

Today, though, didn’t seem like it was a good day for him—if the way he stormed in fuming said anything, at least.

He ignored Rose for a minute as she started making his regular, fists clenched against the table and head bowed. From what she could see, every word in the dictionary was spewing from his mouth.

Eventually though, after Rose was finished helping a few others, Gavin lifted his head. A fresh bruise adorned his cheek.

“Bad day?” Rose asked quietly, raising a brow as she set a glass of whiskey in front of him. Neat, as he liked it.

Gavin sighed, downing the glass before pausing. “Got no idea, sweetheart.” He signaled to bring more, so she poured him a double rye.

“Let me guess,” Rose said. “Nines?”

If she had brought up androids six months ago, Gavin would’ve spewed expletives and cursed androids--usually one specific Connor--until her ears bled. But then he was assigned a new partner, Nines, Connor’s prototype successor, and he . . . well, cooled. He wasn’t necessarily nice to Connor, by all means, but he grew comfortable with Nines and his ever-present company.

Though Gavin would never actually admit it.

Gavin pointed at Rose and clicked his tongue, before collapsing in on himself again. “I think he’s turning into a housecat,” he said. “He never leaves--”

Rose looked around, nodding to the Nines-less bar.

“He’s outside,” Gavin muttered. At that, Rose outright laughed.

She sobered herself enough to shoot him a look. “That’s not new, though,” she pointed out. And it was true--Gavin often complained about Nines trailing after him constantly, both in and outside of work. Some sort of annoying guardian, he had said. But it wasn’t something Rose hadn’t heard of before--no, something else was bothering him. Something that made him much more sour than normal.

Gavin gave a thousand-mile stare past Rose’s shoulder. “There’s another one.”

Another android--at the station, she guessed.

That would be . . . three then, working at the DCPD. Connor, and then Nines—and now another one, evidently.

Another RK model, she presumed.

By how hard Gavin was clenching the glass in his hands, she knew she was right. Another “Connor” walking around in the precinct; another “Connor” for him to get used to.

It was nearly a year after the uprising, and Gavin wasn’t cold towards androids any longer--but he wasn’t exactly warm, either.

“Well, at least you get a break for now, right?” Rose tried to lighten up the mood, offering him another drink. He took it without thinking twice.

But then Gavin bit down, a muscle flickering in his jaw, and ground out, “Not for long.”

Rose was nearly about to question him before the doorbell jingled, two silhouettes slipping through the doorway.

And then Hank and Connor appeared in the dim lighting, Hank calling out a “Hey, kid,” and Connor giving a polite wave. Rose smiled in return, trying to level her breathing at seeing Connor--it had been a while, anyway.

In front of her, Gavin clenched his hand around the glass even tighter — if that was even possible, at this point. He stared at her arm, heaving a deep sigh.

“Well, if it isn’t Hank and the tin can,” Gavin slurred, seemingly more exhausted than miffed. At least he wasn’t biting; Rose wasn’t in the mood to break up a fight tonight.

Even though Hank and Connor weren’t affected by him—in fact, Hank seemed amused at his ex-protege—Rose still cringed at the nickname.

Connor, unperturbed, greeted them. “Hello, Detective Reed,” was all he said before turning to Rose, stepping around Gavin. “Hello, Rosalind.”

“Rose,” she corrected him, still smiling and ignoring Gavin’s visible irritation. No one ever called her Rosalind, save her own mother. And that was nearly a decade ago.

Hank scoffed, throwing a hand against Connor’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be so professional during work. I mean, how many times does she have to tell you, kid? It’s been like, what—a year?”

Connor didn’t have to pause. “Ten months, twenty-three days, fifteen hours and forty-four minutes.”

He said it so bluntly that Rose choked on a laugh, her stomach fluttering.

At the sound of Rose’s giggle, Gavin unfroze, stepping between the three of them. “Hank, we’re off the clock today. Get him out.”

Hank began to step forward and open his mouth, but Connor cut him off. “We just need to ask Rose some questions for a recent case.”

Deviancy had done Connor well, and emotions began to lace his words—his expressions, his stance, everything. But still, in the moment, Connor composed himself enough to seem nonchalant about Gavin’s presence. Enough to annoy Gavin further.

Hank had bet money that Gavin was just bitter about getting knocked out by Connor two punches in back in the evidence room, nearly a year ago. But Rose often thought it was something else, though.

Gavin looked back at Rose, gauging her reaction. “Fine,” he shrugged. And then he yanked out his wallet and handed Rose a handful of cash, reaching for his remaining glass and downing it with a grunt. Then he winked at Rose, clicking his tongue. “You tell me if these runts give you trouble, yeah?”

If she was being honest with herself, Rose was impressed. Gavin, with alcohol in his system, not starting a fight? It was nearly unheard of.

She bit her lip and nodded, satisfying Gavin enough. “Good luck, sweetheart,” he called, stepping around Hank and slapping a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

And then he was gone, the doorbell signaling he had stepped into the night.

Rose sighed, throwing a curl from her braid loose with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry,” she told them both.

Hank scoffed as he took a seat at the bar, patting the seat next to him for Connor. “Don’t know what you need to be apologizing for, Squid.”

Squid--a name Cole, his son, used to call her when she babysat him. Before he passed, Rose would walk to Hank’s house whenever he was called in and take care of Cole for years. And whether it was in the dead of night or at midday, she would come with the hand-sewn squid Cole loved.

She still had that little stuffed squid on her nightstand.

Rose smiled at Hank’s comment, rolling her eyes playfully. After checking on the other customers, she went to offer Hank his usual, opening her mouth to speak — but then Connor shot out a hand beside him, nearly brushing her own fingers against the table.

“He won’t be drinking tonight,” Connor said. Rose raised an eyebrow.

A noise sounded in Hank’s throat, but then he swallowed it. Evidently, by the look Connor gave him, they had already discussed the matter.

“I tried,” Hank shrugged—and then sighed at Rose’s raised brows. “Only drinking on weekends, now.”

Apparently, Connor’s passing comments of them “working things out” with Hank’s drinking habits had proven true. Hank had seemed more sober lately, anyway. It was a nice improvement.

Rose grinned, genuinely happy for him. But, nonetheless, “So I won’t be seeing you around here that often, then?”

Hank nodded. “Yeah, thanks to this kid,”—he grabbed Connor’s shoulder again, and a smile pulled at both of their mouths. “But Sumo needs more lovin’, if you ever wanna come over to watch him while we’re out.”

At the mention of the old dog, Rose nodded enthusiastically. Hank only lived a few streets down from her, anyway, right by the docks—and the precious ball of fluff always needed more love.

Connor’s face went soft at the mention of Sumo, his eyes taking in Rose’s giddy expression with an odd look on his face. But then his LED quickly flashed yellow, and his face dropped.

“We came here to ask you something, Rose,” Connor said. And Hank, with the conversation having been steered back on track, grew somber.

“Yeah, Squid. We, ah . . .” Hank heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on the table. Avoiding having to talk, most likely—which made Rose’s chest seize a bit.

When they asked Rose for information before, there was no hesitation to their questions. What was making Hank so quiet this time?

Rose watched a customer a few stools down drop some cash on the table as he exited and stepped over to him, collecting the change and grabbing the empty glasses before she turned to Connor and Hank completely.

“Well,” Hank continued, “we know a lot passes around through here, and we know you hear everything. . .” — which was true. Rose knew almost as many people as Hank did, having grown up in the outskirts of Detroit, and word tended to travel fast through tipsy mouths.

But this had already been established. At this point, Hank was stalling.

Likely sensing her unease, Connor’s LED flashed as he eyed her. He moved his hand to rest on top of hers, to soothe her.

If he noticed how her heartbeat sped up instead, he didn’t mention it.

“We need to know if you’ve been experiencing anything strange lately,” he said, and Rose’s heart rate immediately died down. “We . . . we have reason to believe that you are being followed.”

Rose froze completely, her jaw going slack. Her mind flicking to every instance the hair on her neck raised, every fleeing form she witnessed that somehow always behind her . . .

More than once recently, she had felt eyes on her. Watching. Waiting, silent, as she walked down the streets of Detroit.

Rose had thought it was her mere imagination.

“Yes,” Rose eventually blurted out, eyeing Connor’s hand. “I mean, no, I haven’t seen anyone, or heard anything. But . . .” A curl fell against her cheek as she tilted her head.

Eyes scrunching, Hank spoke up. “You think you’re being followed, kiddo?”

It took everything in her to force the words out--They’re cops, she reminded herself. They have to know this stuff.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I . . . Sometimes a couple drunks stalk me, but only for a few minutes before giving up. But lately, I’ve been feeling like someone’s been watching me--the entire way home.” But then she shrugged, brushing it off. “But I haven’t spotted anyone, so it may be nothing.”

Connor tilted his head as his LED spun. “Human minds can pick up on subtle cues outside of their direct field of vision and not be completely aware of it,” he blurted. “You may be noticing someone’s gaze without actually seeing it. There is a chance your brain may be sending false alarms, but it’s still better to be cautious.”

Taking in the information, Rose’s eyes fell to Hank. “Why?” she asked. “I mean, what’s making you think I’m being followed?”

At that moment, Jimmy himself walked through the front door, the bell jingling and throwing Rose out of her thoughts. Her shift was up.

Hank clenched his jaw for a moment, considering.

It was Connor that spoke up in the silence. “We received photographs at the precinct the other day,” he breathed, lowering his voice. “Candid photos of people around the city.”

“And you were the main one,” Hank muttered. His eyes were cloudy, his face somber.

Rose felt her blood run cold.

From behind her, Jimmy clasped Rose on the shoulder and nodded to Hank in greeting. “I’ll take it from here,” he said. “You’re good to head on home.”

She didn’t move. She couldn’t, not when someone was taking pictures of her, following her, for some unknown reason--

“I’ll walk you home,” Connor spoke up, retracting his hand from hers and sliding off the bar stool. “Hank needs to finish up at the precinct, but I can stay with you.” In response, Hank nodded.

Rose let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

And so they left her to gather her things, Hank squeezing her forearm in a gentle farewell and Connor standing politely at the exitway. His LED didn’t stray from blue, even when he and Rose stepped into the winter night and the chill took over. Always bright, always flickering.

She wondered why he never decided to take it out.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, and Connor let Rose take the lead as he processed everything around them. Looking for clues, most likely.

But then she couldn’t stand the silence anymore, and she spoke up. “I heard there’s another RK model at the precinct,” she said, eyeing him as he glanced around through the snow. At her comment, his eyes flicked to her and he smiled, polite and cheerful.

Her stomach flipped again.

“His name is Corvus,” he said as they rounded another corner. “He’s my successor by three models--and he’s the last one, evidently.”

“The last one?” She thought there were more--there were around ten Connor models made, right?

“After the deviant uprising, CyberLife gave orders for every active RK unit to return to the Tower and be deactivated. The rest of my successors, save Nines, were all destroyed.” His voice was soft, quiet, and Rose noticed that he was rubbing his hands together--a nervous habit, she realized. Something he developed after the uprising.

Without thinking, Rose tugged on one of his hands and intertwined her fingers with his. For a second, his LED flashed--but then it faded back into its constant, soothing blue. She felt his hand squeeze back, if only for a moment, before she released her hold.

“Except Corvus,” she responded, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He nodded. “He was already deviated from his time at the Salt Lake City Police Department, and he came to Detroit a few days ago.”

“To meet you?”

Connor’s lip twitched. “To meet Markus.”

Oh. She should have assumed.

The tension between Markus and the general public had slowly settled over time, leaving Markus the ability to establish a community for deviants, just north of Detroit. It seemed that deviants were still flocking to him, even now.

“I think you’d like him,” he mused.

Rose was about to comment more--but then his LED sputtered into yellow, and he returned his attention to his surroundings as he processed. Looking for hints again--even though, oddly enough, there were none.

She stifled the nagging thought, that doubt that she had ever seen anything at all. Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her--Connor had brought up that idea as an option, anyway.

She remained quiet as Connor processed everything, completely content with just his company until they reached the front steps of the townhouse. This time, it was late enough that she was sure her father was asleep--something that made her heave a sigh of relief.

Connor remained on the sidewalk as Rose slowly climbed the steps, her feet nearly dragging. “Thank you,” she murmured, turning on her heel to face him. In return, Connor bowed his head.

For a moment, he said nothing, simply staring at her with an odd look on his face. But then his LED blinked all over again, and his expression slowly faded.

“Let me know if you ever need anything, Rose,” he said, so sincerely that her chest warmed. She nearly grinned at the way he said her name.

But she didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded, turning to unlock the door and slipping in with a small wave of farewell.

He called for her before she could close the door. “Come to the precinct tomorrow, during Hank’s break,” he requested. It was likely to meet Corvus, and she faltered a little at the idea of seeing Connor’s face on someone else--but it was he who asked her, and she couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” she said. “Tomorrow.”

Connor’s responding grin made her laugh.

* * *

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years

Text

Misunderstanding

A/N: just another smooch featuring everyone’s favorite black hat. this one is stand alone so this is not the Logan from Oblivion/ Simplify or The Bottom. smooch #7- 12 to go!

Warning: language

Word Count: 2,260

Prompt from: @thesumofmychoices who wanted Logan by the campfire with a kiss of relief. giddy-up.

“Fuck!”

Logan kicked the boulder that he’d been sitting on before standing to pace around the campsite, sending a blunt pain through his foot and up his shin into his knee. “Mother fucker!” He took an uncoordinated hop, nearly falling over but catching his balance at the last second. It wasn’t clear if he was cursing at himself or at the boulder, at you or at the fact that he’d lost track of you somewhere in the park. Ripping the hat from his head he tossed it into the dusting of snow that had settled over the scrubby ground, the dark black felt in stark contrast to the pristine white glitter that had just started to fall. He looked at the way it stood out in the glow of the flames that wouldn’t last if the weather kept up. Shouldn’t have fucking let her go...no idea where the fuck she went now...goddamn it, Delos you really fucked this one up…

The biting cold was already working to numb the ache of what was surely a broken foot, and he considered giving the boulder another kick just to punish himself further. Feeling pain was relatively new to Logan, and he wasn’t sure that he’d had his fill. It had only been a few months that he’d been clean from the drugs that let him feel nothing in abundance, but abundance was what he knew best. If it couldn’t be an overflow of emptiness, he’d settle for another round of blinding pain. Anything was better than the cocktail of guilt and panic that was stirring his stomach and clawing at his chest.

“You’re being an ass, Logan.” You’d said it tight lipped with hard punctuation as puffs of white vapor formed in the cold air. He watched as you crossed your arms over your chest, tight lips turning downwards after you finished speaking.

He’d wanted to apologize. He wanted to take back what he’d said about how you’d only agreed to come on the trip so you could fuck your way through the wild west, about the looks he saw you giving some of the male Hosts you’d encountered, and how you should just get to it if that’s all you were here for. He wanted to grab you by the face and kiss you so hard you’d forget all about them and forget the hurtful things he said and the seemingly uncaring way in which he’d said them. He wanted you like he’d never wanted anything and it threw a wrench into the way he would normally operate. What he did instead was much worse.

He raised his eyebrows and gestured up and down his body at himself as he spoke. “Yeah? Well that’s me. I’m an ass.” He licked his lips, advancing on you, feeling his own eyes grow darker with anger. At himself. With every dumbass word he spoke. “So go ahead and get yourself one of those good guys back in Sweetwater, darlin’. I know that’s what you want. I know that’s why you came. Don’t let me stop you.” The fuck am I saying? He thought. Logan knew you, and knew that you weren’t a shallow puddle like the rest of the women he knew, like the rest of the eager young Delos interns that he’d “shown around the park”. This isn’t how I wanted this to go. At all.

You didn’t budge, even as he stepped within inches of where you stood, boot tips almost touching yours. “I’m not here to fuck dolls, Logan.” You poured acidic venom all over his name.

I know you’re not. “Coulda fooled me.” He knew he was sabotaging himself but he didn’t know how to stop. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about how he’d spend a trip like this one, pushing the hair away from the ear he’d whisper into, saying things like “I’m not your boss in here, we can do whatever we want,” or “You really want the cowboy experience? Lemme take you for a ride, darlin’.” Normally, he’d take you into the tent or room or train car or carriage and he’d show you that while he was talented in the boardroom, he was even more talented outside of it. But there was nothing normal about the way he was feeling right now, the absence of any residual substance in his bloodstream allowing him to feel things that he had no prior experience with: jealousy, fear and hope.

You’d narrowed your eyes then, nostrils flaring. Dammit she even looks good when she’s pissed. “You know what?” You shook your head slightly, clearly frustrated as you dropped your arms. “I think I will go take a walk. Maybe I’ll walk all the way back to Sweetwater. Because I can’t with you right now, Delos.” You scoffed and turned on a dime, stalking off through the bushes that Nadia and Simon- the other two Delos employees that had been on this trip with you- had disappeared through about a half hour ago.

“Fine with me, sweetheart!” He spat after you. But it was not fine, not at all, and as he watched you walk away the anger started swirling with the other things he was feeling, and he thought about stopping you, but didn’t. She’s better off. Let her cool down or...or let her do whatever she wants… let her get the fuck away from me.

Ten minutes turned into twenty, and twenty into forty. Nadia and Simon were still gone, and Logan didn’t expect them to come back. Nadia had made eyes at Simon when they’d passed an abandoned homestead on their way out to where camp had been set up, and he knew what they were up to. It was what he wanted to be up to with you, but he couldn’t. Because he was an ass and he’d ruined everything. He sunk down onto the boulder, poking at the fire with a long stick to keep it going as the air temperature dropped and the sky darkened. Everything around him was quiet aside from the crackling logs, and he was left alone to wonder where you’d gone or if you’d taken his advice and found yourself a white hat to play with. Pulling his watch out of his pocket he realized it had been an hour since you’d stalked off, and just as he noted the minute hand passing the twelve, a snowflake fell on the watch’s face, melting against the fire-warmed glass.

Shit. Now it’s snowing. Why couldn’t this trip wait until fucking Spring? Another thought gripped him, and Logan felt another new sensation take hold- you’d never been to the park before. You had no idea how large it was or how easy it was to get lost. You weren’t an idiot, and you’d seen maps and pictures, knew the actual square mileage and all the details, but knowing the numbers and actually being there were two very different things. You could be lost. And cold. You could be scared. And he was worried about you. That’s when the pacing began.

.. .. .. .. .. ..

He really is an ass. I can’t believe...that’s really what he thinks of me? How dare he...? He...goddamnit why does it have to be him? Why couldn’t I just…

You stomped away from the campfire, woolen stockings slipping in your leather boots with every purposeful step. You wanted to rip every last hair from your head. He really thinks I’d rather waste my time with a goddamn robot? When he’s right there and he’s… You grumbled aloud to yourself. You were in no way going back to Sweetwater, and you certainly were not about to go screw some bag of bolts. You just needed time to cool down before you talked to him. What am I even going to say?

You huffed and thought about how to bring up the fact that you were actually developing feelings for your playboy boss, and that you could barely focus on your work after he’d taken you out on two ...could you call them dates? Nothing had happened, he hadn’t even kissed you...Oh god, they weren’t dates. They were business lunches. Shit I’m…

You hadn’t gone far, knowing full and well that the park was huge and you didn’t want to get lost. You walked in circles, keeping the rising smoke of the campfire in your sights the whole time. You hadn’t noticed that a chill had crept into the air, too annoyed and worked up to feel it, but now a flurry of snowflakes were floating down to the dirt and you knew you had to get back before it turned into a storm. Why did we come in fucking February?

As you circled back to the campsite, the snow making the ground slick and the silence heavy, you heard him cursing to himself and ducked behind the twiggy branches of a barren bush. There he was, hair messed and hands tugging at his neck as he paced around the fire. Is he limping? You asked yourself the question as you saw him draw his foot back and direct another kick at the rock. You flinched. Yup, he’s limping. You were about to reveal yourself when you heard him speak, and shrunk back out of sight.

“Fucking idiot. The one good thing in your life...the one person who sees more than the bullshit… and you push her away...And now she’s gone...” He hopped on his injured foot and you felt your shoulders fall. Oh, Logan…

You bit your bottom lip as you watched him sit back on the rock he’d abused, hands in his hair and elbows on his knees. Could he actually… was he...worried? That I wouldn’t come back? You decided that he’d had enough punishment for his behavior from earlier, and you stepped out from behind the bush, clearing your throat. “What’d that rock do to you, Logan?” You tilted your head and felt your eyes soften as he looked up at you.

He rose, mouth falling open before he swallowed. “You’re back…” he tried to take a step towards you and faltered with a flinch from the weight he tried to put on his foot.

You shook your head and hurried closer, not wanting him to hurt himself more than he clearly had. “Yes, Logan, of course I’m back, did you think I was going to…”

“I thought you left…” His eyes were on yours and they were shining with more than the reflection from the firelight. “Or got lost or,” he sighed. “Or you had enough of...of me.”

Not nearly. You reached for his arm, fingers closing around his wrist as you tugged him back down to a seated position to get him off his foot. “No, Logan. I didn’t leave.” You sat on the boulder beside him, close enough that your thighs were touching, and despite the snow you felt a warmth coming off of him that was unexpected. He was staring at your fingers as they slipped under the sleeve of his jacket. “I didn’t get lost. I…” you let out a little laugh. “I didn’t even go very far.” You gestured off in the direction that you came from. “I just walked in circles because I… I needed to clear my head, Logan. I couldn’t believe that you really...that you thought I was interested in the Hosts…” He looked up from your fingers as you felt his pulse quicken beneath them. “Guess I didn’t do a good enough job showing you what I was really interested in…” Well there it is.

“Me?” He asked the question like it was the most outlandish thing in the world.

You sighed, unable to take your eyes off of his. “You, Logan. I don’t give a damn about the Hosts. If I looked interested, it was just because I’d never seen them before. But...you… you’re what I…”

He cut you off then, lips finding yours as snowflakes landed in both of your hair. Oh! The kiss caught you off guard with how soft it was, how delicate and slow. His hands came up to cup either side of your face, keeping you in place, your hand still wrapped around his right wrist, now moving up to run your fingers over his knuckles. Is this really… this is really happening. He’s… this…

He pulled apart and you were almost thankful- your thoughts were already scattered enough. “I was worried… about you… about… I thought I blew it. But you came back and… and you…” there were questions swimming in his dark eyes as he shook his head slightly. “You actually want… to be with me?”

You nodded, fully aware of how close your face still was to his. “Yes, ass.” You couldn’t help yourself, smiling and feeling downright drunk from the kiss and the way things had gotten misconstrued and how you’d watched him pacing around. He smiled, too, sheepishly, and brushed his nose against yours.

“I deserve that,” he laughed before placing another quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“You do, Delos.” You responded. “Now, let’s get inside so we don’t end up as popsicles, huh?”

He rose immediately and winced again. “Pretty sure I broke my foot…”

You rolled your eyes, despite your smile. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did too. That’s what happens when you kick boulders, Logan.” You rose on your tiptoes to drop a kiss to his cheek. Now that he’d kissed you, you couldn’t get enough of it. “Come on, cowboy, I’ll take care of your purple foot.”

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @belladonnarey @ymariejp@obscurilicious @ms-delos @songtoyou @gollyderek @traeumerinwitzhelden@breanime @drinix

#logan delos #logan delos x you #logan delos x reader #logan delos smooches #logan smooches #kiss prompts #smooch drabbles #logan delos fanfiction #logan westworld #a kiss by the campfire #for relief

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neganandblake · 5 years

Text

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 199 - The Ghost

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

(Masterlist can be found on my page.)

Chapter 199 - The Ghost

[Negan is still mad about the fact that Nick is sniffing around Blake at every chance he gets, and we all know that petty Negan is never a good thing. But when Blake takes a walk down to the kitchens, something she sees there is about to bring back some memories she wished had stayed buried...

——————

The wind and the sleet had arrived soon after Negan had left the garden that afternoon.

It couldn't even be called a storm, but even so, each and every one of the Sanctuary windows seemed to rattle and shake, causing each resident to give an involuntary shiver every time they heard the wind battering against the window panes.

The last run was due to arrive back later that night, but in the meantime, Negan had put a stop to anyone else leaving with the weather as it was.

As much as people presumed he was a hard-ass, he wasn't about to risk any of his best men out there in conditions like that.

It was late evening now, and Negan was still in a foul mood since his run in with Blake and Nick earlier today.

He had relegated himself to the rec room for the afternoon, lazing across the large sofas and smoking away half a pack of cigarettes he had stashed away for an occasion such as this, daydreaming about what it would be like to ring that fucking asshole's Nick's neck.

But as pissed as Negan was, he knew he would have to see Peaches at some point and probably grovel.

Yeah he was fully aware of how much of a prick he'd been. But shit, he wouldn't have had to say any of that shit if Nick hadn't been standing there, a fucking smirk plastered all over his goddamn face.

Oh how Negan wished he could have wiped that smug smile from that mother-fucker's lips, right there, right then.

Negan could hear Blake's soft voice on the other side of the cherry wood by the time he finally reached the door to his and Blake's room up on the third floor.

Knowing he couldn't do anything about the obvious smell of cigarette smoke that clung to him, Negan turned the handle and went inside.

Blake was there of course, perched on the edge of their large bed, as was Mia, the blonde tucking her up beneath the covers snuggly.

Negan knew how much the kid hated any kind of storm, and so Blake had blatantly made the sensible choice of letting her sleep in with them tonight, rather than get woken up by Mia's crying in the early hours from next-door.

Both girls looked up as he entered and closed the door behind himself with small snap.

Blake still looked completely unimpressed, glowering at him over her slender shoulder.

"You decided to quit being an asshole yet?" she asked coolly, turning back to Mia and smoothing the bedcovers down over her middle.

Negan pursed his lips together and moved over to the couch.

"Ass-howl'," Mia repeated with a giggle.

But Blake quickly gave a tut, turning her attention to the little girl.

"No, we don't say that, baby. That's a bad word," she muttered, before glancing back to Negan.

"Bat Mommy gowt to say it," grumbled Mia, folding her chubby arms huffily over her teeny chest.

"Ain't bein' an asshole, Peaches," uttered Negan irritably, removing his jacket in much the same manner and tossing it haphazardly down onto the leather couch.

Was he really being an asshole just for not wanting to watch some other guy lusting over his damn girl?

"An' Daddy say it!" Mia huffed again, sounding annoyed at the injustice of it all.

"Could've fooled me," Blake snapped, shaking her head and scowling at him. "So, what? You got a problem with me being down in the garden's now is that it? Don't think I'm doing a good enough job down there or something?"

The blonde woman sounded hurt, her green eyes searching his face for any hint to what he had meant by his earlier outburst down in the lots outside.

A wave of guilt, at this, hit Negan hard.

Shit, he had never fucking wanted to make Blake feel this way. But this was all because of that asshole Nick.

Negan was sick to the goddamn back teeth of him sniffing around Blake any chance he got.

"Well it ain't like you haven't got enough help down there, is it, Peaches?" Negan bit, turning away from her and pulling off his boots one by one, dumping them on the floor next to the sofa before making for the bathroom.

But behind him he heard Blake get to her feet and follow him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked sounding angry now.

But fuck, so was Negan. Pissed that that fucking prick had caused a goddamn rift between them. (Although he tried to dismiss the nagging feeling that it was actually Negan himself causing this fucking rift.)

"You know what it means, Darlin'," said Negan in a meaningful voice as he entered through the bathroom, flicking on the light, as he heard Blake close behind him.

He wasnt in the mood for any of this shit, wanting nothing but a shower and to sleep, maybe forgetting, for just a night anway, that this Nick guy, that Peaches seemed to be spending every fucking second of every fucking day with, ever even existed.

Pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it into the wash basket behind them door, he made to grab his towel from the rail, when suddenly Blake circled around, coming to a stop in front of him.

Pressing a hand to his bare chest she stopped him in his tracks.

"No, I don't, Negan," she said firmly, that frown still sat between her brows, but her eyes were now wide and worried looking, searching his face desperately. "Look I don't know what's up with you lately, why you've been checking in on me down in the gardens every five minutes, or why you've been acting like such a child -"

"Well maybe your new fuckin' boyfriend down there will be more fuckin' mature, Darlin'," Negan growled at her, cutting her off mid-sentence. The words spilling from his lips poisonously before he could help himself.

And for a moment Blake stopped, blinking, She closed her mouth slowly and took a step back, her hand dropping suddenly from Negan's chest.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Negan's mind was whirring was possibilities now, scenarios that he had no proof of, working their way around his head.

Did she look mad?

Guilty?

Had she been thinking about Nick? Fantasising about him? Wanting him more than she had ever wanted a rough old dog like Negan?

It was a long second now before Blake took a second step backwards, the frown on her forehead deepening.

"You mean…...wait..." she uttered with a frown, looking a little disbelieving now. "...are you talking about Nick?!"

Negan took a moment to reply, merely giving a seemingly un-caring sniff.

"Well the prick's been tailin' you around for the last two fuckin' weeks like some kinda love-sick puppy, Peaches. What the fuck else am I suposed to think?" Negan said, feeling his hackles raise at just the mention of the guy.

But Blake seemed to waver for a second, before a bemused sort of expression slowly began to dance its way across her features.

"Negan, YOU tail me around like a lovesick puppy," she said sounding slightly exasperated, but far more calm than she had a few brief moments ago.

But Negan wasn't taking that. This wasn't the same. This guy was new to the scene.

And besides Negan had seen it first hand. The flirting, the laughing…

"Sweetheart, it's obvious the goddamn guy has got a thing for you!" Negan uttered bitterly.

But at his words, this time, Blake was still for a long second or two, before, to Negan's surprise, her lips twitched once, then twice, and a sudden laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

She bit down on her lip to stop herself from giggling further.

But this only seemed to anger Negan more. Shit, did she really think all this was fucking funny?

But he barely had a second to dwell on this, as Blake lowered her eyes taking a step into the dark-haired man, her hand making for his shoulder.

"Errr, baby..." Blake murmured in a sympathetic sounding voice, giving his shoulder a gentle pat. "...I have a feeling YOU might be more Nick's type."

Negan blinked.

What?

"He's gay, Negan," Blake said with a slow nod, her eyes meeting with his, as though she wanted to make sure explicitly he understod what she was saying.

"He's-"

"Gay, yeah," Blake repeated, giving his shoulder a squeeze before dropping her hand and sauntering over to the bathroom mirror above the sink to peer at her reflection. "Definitely not interested in me."

Negan was silent for a long moment before he lifted a hand, running it through his hair as his dark eyes widened.

"Well...shit…" he managed to murmur out, feeling all of a sudden very, very fucking stupid.

"Yeah, shit," Blake said pursing her lips and staring back at him over her shoulder. "So next time you go getting jealous, you may want to get your facts straight first."

Negan could have kicked himself.

Fuck, he'd been such fucking idiot.

"Peaches, I'm fuckin' sorry, I-" he began, knowing it was better to start grovelling sooner rather than later.

But Blake merely turned back to him, smirking now.

"Nu-uh," she said in a vixen-like voice, strutting past him and bumping her hip payfully against his bony one as she went. "You can make it up to me later, asshole."

She shot him a suggestive look glancing up and down his body over her shoulder, before biting her lip and giving a small laughing shake of her head and disappearing back into the bedroom.

Negan gave a sigh. Shit, he really was fuckin' lucky to have a gal like her.

Still ruffling his dark hair, he wandered back into the bedroom, to see the blonde tucking a a whining Mia back into bed.

"Noh, I wan' milk," whined the toddler wriggling and twisting beneath the bed-clothes. "I thursty!"

Blake gave a sigh and got to her feet.

"Alright I'll get you some milk, baby," she said softly, turning to slip on her sneakers.

"I'll go, Darlin'," Negan offered.

But Blake merely smiled up at him. "It's fine, I'll be back in five," she said making for the door. "You can take care of that."

And with that, Blake cocked a thumb over her shoulder to where Mia was currently clambering out of bed, whinging as she did so. Obviously in a mood for terrorising her two parents tonight.

Negan gave a loud, tired groan, as a smirking Blake headed off out of the room, closing the door behind her with a gentle snap.

------------------------------------

The Sanctuary felt like an ice box as Blake walked down the drafty corridor heading toward the kitchens.

She rubbed at her arms as she went, cursing herself for not putting on an extra layer on top of her black sweater.

The walk didn't take long, down to the first floor, where she noticed it was far more drafty due to the large doors at the far end of the docking yard being left wide open.

That would only mean one thing of course, that the Simon, Gavin and a few of the others were now back from their run, safe from the storm.

And as Blake turned the corner she saw now that they were not alone, with Simon standing there addressing a small group of seven or eight people she had never seen before.

"...now you follow the rules and you'll find that we can all be very accommodating here…" she heard Simon utter, causing Blake to bristle slightly at the sound of his voice. Even know although she had forgiven as much as she could, it is hard to forget what the mustachioed man had tried to do all those weeks ago.

But shaking these thoughts from her head, she walked up to where to small group stood, nodding to Gavin, who was stood at the back of the pack, as she passed by.

Part of her felt proud, as this was obviously another group that the Saviours had picked up on the road and had taken in, under the promise that they follow the rules and do things Negan's way.

The Sanctuary was certainly big enough for more people and Blake now hoped that by next year, if her plans to expand the gardens went well, then there would be more than enough food to go around threefold.

But as always, the people in the small group, as she passed them, all looked frightened and mistable, huddled together, seeming nervous of coming here to the intimidating factory building for the first time.

But as Blake walked by, she didn't even notice one of the men from the small crowd step forward, his eyes widening suddenly as he looked at her.

"Blake?"

Blake stopped suddenly in her tracks...her blood running cold.

That voice.

No.

But it couldn't be. It just couldn't…

Blake's heart began to thud in her chest, her stomach twisting into knots and her breathing becoming shallow, as Simon faltered in his speech, the entire room falling eerily silent.

It couldn't be him.

He was a ghost.

A memory.

This wasn't possible.

Swallowing hard, it felt like an eternity before, on shaking legs, Blake managed to turn herself around, her wide eyes full of horror as her gaze settled upon a person she had never thought she'd see again. Not the ghost, but another now...oh so familiar.

Tall…

...blonde…

...with piercing blue eyes that reminded so much of someone else's…

Eyes she had stared at while cold fingers had been clenched around her throat, choking the life from her.

Blake stopped, her chest rising and falling hard now, as the man stepped forwards out of the untidy group, taking one step, then another…

And before Blake could even move, he had launched himself at her, tugging her to him in a tight hug.

"Blakey, I-I never thought I'd see you again," he breathed into her ear, that voice- so familiar, sending a cold shiver through her entire body.

The man pulled back from her and stared into her eyes, shaking his head in a look of pure, happy disbelief that she was here.

"W-Where's David? He here with you?" said the man Blake had known for a very long time.

A man she had spent night's out with. A man who she had had over to her apartment on game days. A man who she had spent time with at family occasions.

A man who looked eerily familiar to the man that had abused her, for so very long.

Brandon.

David's brother.

------------------------------------

#negan #negan twd #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Walking Dead #twd #the walking dead fic #negan fic #jdm #negan oc #negan and blake #negan otp #negan fanfiction

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thatfanficstuff · 5 years

Text

Battle Scars - 16

Pairing: Tony Stark x Soulmate!Reader

Warnings: not really. Language and dick jokes I guess

A/N: Two more chapters after this one my lovelies. The end is nigh. sigh.

***

“Has anyone seen, Y/N?” Tony asked as he walked into the common sitting area. Most of the team was there. He’d tried to call you twice only for there to be no answer. There was a general rumbling of ‘no’ from around the room and he sighed. “She isn’t answering my calls.”

“I’m not surprised,” Bruce said. “She wasn’t exactly pleased with you earlier.”

Tony frowned at his friend knowing he was right but he was unable to shake the uneasy feeling that had taken up residence in his gut. He shifted his gaze to Steve. “You try calling her, would you?”

The blond super soldier shrugged and pulled out his phone to call you. A short time later he slid it back into his pocket. “No answer.”

“I don’t like this,” Tony voiced his thoughts.

“It doesn’t mean anything, Stark. She probably just doesn’t want to be bothered. Are you picking up anything over that link the two of you have?” Natasha asked.

He shook his head and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “No, but this isn’t like her.”

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. “I got this.” He put his phone to his ear. After a moment, his smile fell and his gaze narrowed. “She’s not answering.”

The team exchanged a look. You always took Bucky’s calls. Always.

“Right. That’s enough of that.” Tony clapped his hands together. “Jarvis, trace Y/N’s cellphone. Get me a location.”

“At once, sir.” There was a pause. “Miss Y/L/N’s phone is in her office.”

Tony’s head jerked up. “I thought you said she wasn’t in the tower.” It had been the first thing he’d tried when she wouldn’t answer his calls.

“That is correct. She is not, but her phone is,” came the crisp, accented response.

“Shit,” Nat said after a moment’s pause, echoing Tony’s thoughts exactly.

***

You woke suddenly, with a gasp. After a moment’s confusion, it all swarmed back to you. You lifted your head to find you were in a chair in the middle of an otherwise empty room. One bare bulb hung above you to illuminate the room. It was almost as if someone had watched a lot of bad action movies and took notes on the stereotypical room to hold a kidnapping victim.

Your hands were tied behind the chair which made your shoulders ache. Once you realized you weren’t restrained in any other way, you frowned. Something seemed off about this whole thing. It screamed amateur, unprofessional, and given the plethora of enemies the Avengers had that was bizarre to say the least.

Of course, being kidnapped was odd in and of itself. At the thought you wondered how long you’d been out and if anyone was missing you yet. It shouldn’t take long for Tony to track you once he realized what had happened. After all, he could just have Jarvis trace your phone…which you left on your desk in the tower before you stormed out with nothing like a complete and utter dumbass. Son of a bitch.

Would it kill the universe to make things simple for once? You huffed out a sigh. Tony would still find you. It would just take longer, that’s all. Voices drifted to you from the hall, interrupting your internal pep talk. Your gaze darted to the door and your heart pounded as you waited to see who came through it.

***

Tony stood in front of the large screen in the living room. He chewed on the end of his thumb while he waited for Jarvis to finish his search. The AI was scanning through surveillance footage from a radius around the tower looking for any sign of what had happened to you.

“Anything?” Steve asked as he walked back into the room. He’d put on his suit, just in case they needed to go after you.

Tony glanced at him before shaking his head. “Not yet. You do realize she could just be sitting in a diner somewhere having coffee and pie, right?” He knew that scenario was unlikely, but he wasn’t going to panic until he had to. That wouldn’t do him, or you, any good.

“I believe I have ascertained what happened to Miss Y/L/N,” Jarvis’s voice suddenly interrupted.

“Show me,” Tony ordered at once, his attention now fully riveted to the screen in front of him. He was only vaguely aware of the rest of the team crowding around him. Jarvis had pieced together a video of you leaving the café and heading back to the tower.

Tony’s eyes stayed on your form as a man passed too close heading in the opposite direction and you frowned down at your arm. They followed you as another man stepped up beside you and draped an arm over your shoulders to steer you to gray sedan parked on the side of the road. His stomach flipped as he watched them put you in the back seat and drive off with you.

“See if you can get a locate on that car, Jarvis,” Steve barked.

“At once, Captain.”

Tony just kept staring at the screen, his mind playing over what happened as he formulated and discarded plans. He kept shifting his weight as he thought. Annoyance crawled under his skin and it took him longer than it should have to realize he was picking that up from you. The corner of his mouth kicked up in a small grin. Leave it to you to be frustrated instead of terrified when you get kidnapped. That’s his girl.

***

The person revealed when the door open was honestly one of the last people you had expected to see. He smiled at you, flashing too perfect white teeth as he pushed his glasses up with one finger. “Hello, Y/N.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

None other than Justin Hammer stood before you, hands shoved into the pockets of his poorly fitted suit. He had spent his professional life trying to be Tony Stark and always fell short in every aspect. He was an asshole, but you hadn’t thought him a complete idiot until today.

He frowned at you. “That language isn’t necessary, I assure you. I merely have a few questions. Answer them and you can get back to Tony.”

“Has it occurred to you that my soulmate is going to go full Iron Man on your ass once he finds out what happened?” Perhaps it was stupid to bring it up, but you were beyond annoyed to full on pissed by now. And the longer he stood there with that smug look on his face, the angrier you got. “Or that the rest of the Avengers will help him?”

He chuckled. “I assure you that I am not a complete idiot, Y/N. All probabilities have been considered and accounted for. I have another little drug that will ensure you remember none of this.”

You sighed. “What do you want, Hammer?”

“Stark is working on new tech. I want to know everything about it and you’re going to tell me.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

You blinked at him. He was quite possibly the least threatening looking interrogator ever. “No.”

His lips pulled down as his frown deepened. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“What has you confused—the lines or the circles?” You worked your hands behind your back as you talked to him, hoping he’d be too inept to notice you trying to loosen the ropes. So far, so good.

He started to pace the small room. “What is your problem? Why won’t you just cooperate? The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can go home. You might even make Tony’s little party.”

You snorted. “Little, my ass. There is nothing little about Tony Stark.”

He paused his pacing and scowled at you. “Did you just imply…” he trailed off.

Your brows shot up. “I didn’t imply anything, Hammer. Though I hear your name doesn’t really suit.”

His face reddened as his brow furrowed. “Where…where did you hear that?”

One side of your mouth kicked up in a smirk that rivaled Tony’s best any day. “That wasn’t a denial.”

He closed the distance between you and braced his hands on the arms of the chair to lean into you. “Damn it, Y/N. Do you think this is some sort of joke? Tell me what I want to know.”

You licked your lips to keep from telling him that he was a joke. “What makes you think I know anything about Tony’s work? I may know his schedule backward and forward, but as for what he’s actually working on in the lab, I have no idea.”

He smacked his palms against the arms. “That’s a lie. He tells you everything.”

“Says who?” Your gaze narrowed in suspicion. He didn’t just suddenly decide to kidnap you. Someone was behind this and you had a feeling that you knew precisely who.

He cleared his throat as he straightened and stepped away from you. “No one had to tell me anything. You’re his soulmate. It only makes sense that you would know what he was up to.”

“Hmmm.” You didn’t buy it, but what difference did it make really?

“Now, are you going to tell me what I want to know or not?”

“Let’s go with not.”

He sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” Hammer opened the door and gestured to someone in the hallway. A man you had never seen before stepped into the room. His broad shoulders were enough to have you gulping nervously. One of Hammer’s hired thugs, no doubt. He gestured in your direction. “She won’t talk.”

The man nodded and stepped forward. He looked you over briefly before backhanding you across the cheek. Pain flared through you, vibrant and sharp, a wave of fury traveling in its wake.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark soulmate #soulmate au #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x you #avengers #avengers fanfiction #series #battle scars

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bamby0304 · 5 years

Text

Her Saviours- Ch.9

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

A/N: Thank your @sculptorofbeginnings for helping fix some stuff in this chapter :):)

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Fluff. Violence. Slight attempted/mentions of assault.

Bamby

“No, I haven’t heard from her, sorry boys,” Bobby sighed. “Yeah, of course. I’ll call you the second I know something. You two be careful,” he told them before hanging up. Shaking his head, Bobby turned to stare at you as you sat on the cot in his study. “Those boys are worried sick.”

“They’re only worried because they don’t know where I am. If they knew I was here, with you, they’d stop calling. They’d stop caring.” Slamming your book shut, you unfolded your legs and stood, moving into the kitchen. “I’m just extra baggage they have to lug around.”

He was hot on your tail, storming into the kitchen. “We both know that ain’t true. Those boys love you.”

“Sam tolerates me for Dean’s sake, and Dean likes the convenience of a nearby Omega,” you stated plainly, reaching into the fridge to pull out a beer.

When you’d shown up on Bobby’s doorstep almost a week ago, the old Beta had questions. Of course he had questions. You were an Omega and you were by yourself, which was odd enough, but the fact you’d been glued to a Winchester since they’d found you… he’d known something was wrong in an instant.

You’d had to admit a few truths. You had to explain that things were awkward now that Sam was back and John was gone. That having one Alpha replaced by another felt weird. You had to explain your relationship with Dean, and the toll it was taking on you. You had to explain the fact you were legally allowed to bond with someone, but no one was willing to do it.

“I can’t believe that boy has been using you like that.” Bobby shook his head. “I won’t believe it.”

“Don’t then.” You shrugged. “Doesn’t change the fact I’m not going anywhere,” you noted before starting towards the study again.

Before you could get far, Bobby reached over and snatched the beer out of your hand. As you spun around to glare at him, he cut off anything you might’ve said, “Those boys are worried about you, and they’re gonna keep worrying until you’re back by their side. So we’ve got two options here… either I call them and tell them you’re here, which will cut their case short and annoy both of them. Or you can get your bags and go find them.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re kicking me out?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know that. I’m not kicking you out, I’m telling you to stop running from your problems,” he corrected.

Scoffing and shaking your head, you turned and continued towards the study. “No. No, I’m not going back. I can’t just go back. If I go back this has been for nothing. They would have learned nothing. If I go back now, I’m going back to what I left behind.”

“Left behind. Left behind,” he scoffed. “You say that like you’re done with them.”

“Maybe I am.” You shrugged as you dropped back onto the cot and grabbed your book again.

Marching into the room, he glared down at you. “Those boys are your family.” When you just looked up at him indifferently, he pushed, “Those boys have dragged you around all these years, because they care about you. They want you around. You just wanna turn your back on them? After everything they’ve done for you and you’ve done for them?”

“Yes,” you answered shortly.

“Bullshit.” He stood his ground. “I love you like you’re my own, Y/N, but I know you, too. I know you’re as stubborn as a Winchester, and as tough as one, too. You might be pissed, but you miss them.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything. Like I said, those boys are your family, you need each other. So, grab your things and get goin’.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’m giving you an hour before I call Dean and let him know you’re here.”

Driving along, you were only half focused on the road as you headed in the direction Bobby had told you to go. Apparently, he’d been keeping up with the brothers’ whereabouts, waiting for you to ask where they might be so you could go to them. Instead, he used it to shoo you away.

It hurt, thinking he didn’t want you around, but deep down you understood. You didn’t want to understand, though. You wanted to be mad… it was easier.

He was right, which is why you’d feel guilty if you gave in. You did miss the brothers, and you knew they didn’t actually think you were extra baggage. You were all family, you’d just forgotten with all the drama going on.

Rolling down the road, you were pulled out of your thoughts as your car started sputtering.

“Shit,” you groaned.

You barely made it to the nearest gas station before the car stopped running.

Getting out and slamming the door, you stormed over to check the hood. Truth be told, though, you had no idea what you were looking at. Staring down at the engine, you had no clue where to start. Dean and John were always the ones to fix the cars.

“Need a hand?”

Spinning on your heels, you took in a deep breath and tried not to gag as the strong stench of stale cigarettes and Alpha filled your nose.

The man standing a few feet away from you was big and burly… you stood very little chance against him without a weapon. He stunk like he hadn’t had a shower in a week but had stuck his dick in at least three things since then. One look and you got the feeling any action he’d gotten hadn’t been consensual.

Unfortunately, you’d gotten out of the car empty handed, leaving you vulnerable.

His lips twitched up into a chilling grin as he took a step forward. “Why don’t you let me take a look under that hood of yours?” His eyes dragged over you, making it clear he wasn’t talking about your car.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you answered shortly, straightening your back.

That did nothing to deter him, though. In fact, he seemed more interested now. “Oh, don’t be like that. Pretty little Omega girl like you… you’ve gotta be real close to legal, huh? What are you doin’, all out here alone… looking for an Alpha to take real good care of you?”

The shudder that rolled through you just made his grin grow.

“I’ve got somethin’ that could help you.” His hand grabbed at his crotch as he adjusted the bulge growing there.

He was still moving closer, but you had nowhere to go. You were pressed against your car. One move and he would lunge for you, that was obvious, and by the size of him you wouldn’t get far. Out running an Alpha on the prowl was practically impossible.

Moving in closer, he left hardly a foot of space between you as he leered down, staring straight at your breasts. “Bend over, and I’ll give you what you need.”

You were shaking now. Despite the confident look on your face, and your tough posture, you were practically shitting yourself. There was nothing you could do, nowhere to go… your life was about to be ruined.

The sound of a shotgun being pumped had both of you whipping your heads over to the truck parked a little ways away.

A man stood by the truck, holding the shotgun. “You’re gonna leave her alone, or you won’t be walkin’ again,” he warned.

Huffing, the Alpha pulled away slightly. “This is none of your damned business.”

Keeping his eyes on the Alpha, the truck driver spoke to you, “Darlin’, you know this man?”

“N-no sir.”

“He botherin’ you?”

“Yes sir.”

He shrugged. “You heard the lady. Now get out of here, ‘fore I put you in a coffin.”

Quickly measuring his odds, the Alpha made the best decision he could and high tailed it out of there. You didn’t move a muscle until he was in his pickup and speeding down the road.

Once it was just the two of you, the man walked towards you. Still tense and waiting for something to happen, you jumped away from him.

He raised his hand- the one that wasn’t still holding his gun- to show you he meant no harm. “I’m a beta, darlin’, and I’m happily married with kids. I got no reason to hurt ya.” His eyes dropped to your open hood. “She doesn’t look good, and you ain’t gonna get any help ‘til morning.” Dragging his gaze back up to yours, he asked, “Where you headed?”

“Toledo. Ohio.”

“I can get you there if you don’t mind ditchin’ the car.”

Without missing a beat, you walked around to the back door, reached in, and pulled out your bag. When he looked at you, shocked, you shrugged. “It’s just a car. I’m not sentimental.”

Nodding, not having any reason to respond, he gestured for you to follow. “Come on, let’s get you outta here.”

Taking one last look at the car, you didn’t think twice before jogging after the man. He might be a stranger, but so far he’d shown you no reason not to trust him. To be honest, your odds were better with him than if you slept in your car by yourself all night.

Frank. Frank Thompson, that was the name of the man who had saved your life. The man married to a Beta woman who was waiting for him back home, which was somewhere in Oklahoma. He was headed to Detroit right now… well, after he dropped you off, of course.

The man seemed nice. You’d talked a little, mostly because he wanted to fill in the quiet moments with some chit chat, thinking it would put you at ease. He was polite, didn’t press for too much information, and let you just listen when that was all you wanted.

Mostly, you wanted to sit in silence. You were trying to figure out what you were going to do and say when you got to Dean and Sam. Were they going to be pissed, or relieved? Were you going to get defensive, or explode? There were a million this that could happen, a million things you could end up doing.

“So, you runnin’ to or from somethin’?”

You turned away from the window to Frank. “What makes you think I’m running?”

“Girl like you, and an Omega no less, doesn’t just get in a car and start drivin’ if she doesn’t have a reason. You’re runnin’, I just can’t figure out why.”

“And what makes you so sure you’re right?”

“‘Cause you remind me of my daughter… before she ran.”

Your heart sank and eyes went wide as you watched the man continue to focus on the road.

“She was headstrong and determined, like you are. Would kick anyone’s ass if she knew she could beat ‘em. My girl, she was an Omega, and her mama and me didn’t know what that would mean. Not really. Didn’t know how to raise her. So when a handsome Alpha boy came ‘round, she fell head over heels.”

“What happened next?”

“Her Daddy happened,” he sighed. “Didn’t understand her, all I knew was that I didn’t want my baby girl ‘round some hot headed Alpha, so I moved us out of town. Dragged her across states. Did whatever I could to keep my baby girl at home.”

“She ran back to him, didn’t she?”

He gave a short nod. “They’re married and got three pups, now.”

You weren’t expecting the happy ending, but then you weren’t used to happy anything. The short bouts of ease you experienced in life were laced with uncertainties and boundaries. Even being with Dean, or Sam, or John, while they might make you feel good, you never knew where you stood.

There was no happy ending in sight for you. None of the Alphas you loved were willing to commit. The life you led wasn’t exactly pup friendly. You were an Omega stuck in the least domestic life and it grated against your instincts like nails on a chalkboard.

“So, you runnin’ to, or from?” Frank asked again.

Pausing a moment, you gave it a thought before answering, “Both. I was taken in by a family of Alphas when I was a young teen, and I grew… attached to some of them. Thing is, none of them can claim me.”

Glancing in your direction, he gave you a quick once over before turning back to the road. “You even old enough to be claimed, yet?”

“By a few months, yeah. That’s not the point.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The father, the head Alpha, he’s missing and without his permission his son won’t claim me.”

“Boy don’t have a thought of his own?”

You chuckled lightly, knowing Dean had plenty of his own thoughts but that he was also the perfect soldier. It was very contradictory. “He has his own thoughts, it’s just complicated. I’m guessing you don’t know much about Alphas?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“Well, they’re headstrong and stubborn, but they’re loyal.”

“So what about the other one?”

“Huh?”

“You said you grew attached to some of ‘em, but then you said the son won’t claim you. One son, one person. So, what about the other one?”

“Oh…” you turned back to look out the window then, “he’s even more complicated.”

That was the easiest answer you had, and the only one you could actually say. Anything else would get caught in your throat. The thought and reminder of what you once had with Sam, and what he had with Jess, was still enough to cause a pain that brought tears to your eyes.

“You love ‘em?”

Tearing you eyes from the window one last time, you looked to Frank again. “Hmm?”

“Do you love ‘em? The boys?”

“I don’t know if it’s love... or habit. Or if I’m holding onto the hope of the young girl whose life they saved.”

“You sure you’re gonna be alright?” Frank asked as he looked down at you from up in the truck.

Tugging the strap of your bag on onto your shoulder, you gave a short nod. “I’ll be fine.”

Sighing, he looked at the dingy motel and shook his head. “I’m gonna trust you, darlin’, but if you change your mind and need another ride, you call me.” Reaching down, he offered you a piece of paper.

“Don’t you have a route you have to stick to?” you asked as you took the paper and looked down at the number.

“My boss is an Omega. They hear I’m takin’ a detour to help you out and I’ll probably get a raise.” He grinned and offered you a wink.

You chuckled lightly. “Thanks, Mr Thompson.”

“You take care, Miss Y/L/N.” Giving you a short nod, he then pulled himself back into the truck before starting down the road, leaving you standing there and watching him roll away.

Once there were no sign of the truck, you turned on your heels and headed towards the motel. It was the only one in town, which meant if Sam and Dean were still on the same hunt they’d be staying here. The Impala was nowhere to be seen, though, which meant you were going to have to wait for them to show up.

Taking a deep breath, you trekked towards the vending machines and wooden bench outside of the reception. Taking a seat, you dropped your bag next to you and settled in, keeping your eyes peeled for any sign of the Winchesters.

When the Impala sped into the parking lot, you jumped to your feet and looked at it with wide eyes. Three doors opened, the brothers and a young girl stepping out. Sam was by the girl’s side in an instant as she kept her eyes squeezed shut and her fists clenched against them.

Dean, on the other hand, froze as his gaze landed on you.

Sam paused and followed his brother’s line of sight, spotting you as you stood there awkwardly. “I’m taking Charlie inside,” he told his brother before turning away from you.

Once Sam and the girl disappeared into their room, Dean was heading towards him as you did the same. You were tense, waiting for him to blow up as his jaw ticked and eyes glared into yours.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked, still on the other side of the parking lot. He practically had to yell for you to hear him.

“Bobby’s,” you answered honestly, not seeing any point in protecting the man considering he’d kicked you out.

Your answer just made Dean’s jaw clench harder. “He lied to us?”

“No, he lied for me,” you countered.

“Same thing.”

“What do you expect him to do? I show up on his doorstep, bawling my eyes out, and he’s just gonna call and lead you back to me. He’s a father to me, Dean, he would neve-”

Reaching you, finally, Dean grabbed your arm and pulled you to him, crashing his lip to yours. You fell silent and froze as he kissed you deeply, holding your arm with one hand and the back of your head with the other.

When he pulled back, you sucked in a breath your lungs had been screaming for.

“I was scared out of my brain, worrying about you.” His eyes bore into yours as he looked down at you. “Worried you might be dead in some ditch or claimed by some knothead.”

“I was at Bobby’s,” you repeated, still breathless and recovering.

“Why? Why did you leave?”

Looking into his eyes, seeing the truth fear in them, you knew nothing but the truth would fix your problems. “Because I didn’t think you’d care if I left.”

“How could you think I wouldn’t care?” A fire grew in his gaze, flickering amongst the fear. “You’re family, of course I’d care about you.”

“I know that. Which is why I knew that if you did care, you’d hurt… like I was.”

Searching your gaze, he frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means I can’t do this for much longer, Dean.” Pulling away from him, you sighed and gestured to his room. “Who’s the girl?”

“If you think you can just change the subject like that-”

Knowing he wasn’t finished talking about the two of you, but also knowing there was a job to be done, you cut him off, “She’s freaking out and you left Sam all alone with her. You’re in the middle of the case. We can do the chick flick crap later. Who is the girl, Dean?”

The girl was Charlie, a high school Omega who was caught in the middle of a bloody Mary case. As in the real bloody Mary. You never thought the myth had any facts behind it, but according to what Sam and Dean had stumbled across, it was true.

Inside the motel room, you knelt in front of the whimpering and terrified Omega as the brothers worked on covering every reflective surface there was. When they were done, Sam came over to sit next to her.

“Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie,” he assured her. “It's okay, all right?”

Slowly, she lifted her head away from her hands and looked around before her gaze fell on you.

“This is Y/N,” Sam started. “She’s our-”

“Sister,” you finished for him, with a slight bite to your tone.

It was a bitch move, but you still weren’t over that.

Flinching at the word slightly, Sam didn’t correct you before he moved on, “Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever.” Charlie looked at him with scared eyes. “I'm gonna die, aren't I?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “No. Not anytime soon.”

Dean came over to kneel beside you and looked up at her. “All right Charlie. We need to know what happened.”

“We were in the bathroom. Donna said it,” she explained.

The brother shared a look before Dean tried again, “That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life… a secret… where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?”

Charlie took a deep breath before telling him what he needed to know, “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said, ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself’. And you know what I said?” She looked to each of you. “I said, ‘Go ahead’, And I left.” Tears began streaming down her face. “How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just… I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.”

Burying her face in her hands, she started crying. She sobbed so hard her shoulders shook. Instinct took over, and as the brothers watched, you reached up and wrapped your arms around her.

“We’re gonna take care of you,” you promised.

With your promise, she crumbled onto the floor and into your arms as she started crying harder.

Getting Charlie to let you go had been hard, but you weren’t about to let the brothers head off without you. They were a bit reluctant to let you join them in the first place, but one look at Dean and that’s all it had taken.

He knew then that if they left you behind you wouldn’t be there when they returned.

So, with the help of the brothers, you managed to get Charlie to calmed down and explained that you were going to help your ‘brothers’ help her. Eventually she let you go.

“You know her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault,” Dean noted as he drove down the road.

“You know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of grey, Dean,” Sam countered. “Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary.”

Dean sighed, “I guess.”

“You know, I've been thinking,” Sam started. “It might not be enough to just smash that mirror.”

“Why, what do you mean?” Dean asked.

You watched Sam closely as a bad feeling started to tug on your stomach.

“Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.”

Shifting in your seat, you leaned forward and against the back of the seat, poking your head between the brothers. “I thought you said she only comes if you have a secret that led to a death. You said the first victim’s daughter was the one to say the words. What if we don’t have any secrets juicy enough for Mary?”

“She’s got a point.” Dean nodded. “We know some stuff, but I don’t think any of it counts.”

But Sam didn’t seem to agree. “She'll come after me.”

Everything in the car froze.

Dean looked from the road, to his brother, and then back before shaking his head. “You know what, that's it.”

He pulled the car over, slamming on the brakes. You had to hold on to keep yourself from flying into the front seat with them.

Not missing a beat, Dean turned to glare at his brother. “This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow?”

Sam just ignore him, though, keeping his gaze on the window in front of him.

“Sam, this has got to stop, man.” Dean’s concern was growing with every word. “I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night, it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me, it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.”

Sam shook his head. “I don't blame you. Either of you.”

“Well you shouldn't blame yourself,” Dean told him, “because there's nothing you could've done.”

Looking away from the window then, Sam turned to his brother. “I could've warned her.”

“About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, we mean I know all about it.” Dean gestured to himself and you. “It's not gonna work with Mary anyway.”

“No you don't.”

“I don't what?”

“You don't know all about it,” Sam answered simply. “I haven't told you everything.”

Your blood ran cold.

Dean’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about?”

“Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?”

Before you knew what you were doing, you threw your door open and stepped out of the car and into the rain.

Walking away from the car, shaking your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and looked up at the sky. Letting the rain fall on your face, you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the panic raging inside of you.

“Y/N!”

Spinning on your heels, you turned to Dean as he hurried towards you. Sam stood by his door, watching with this look on his face that made you want to scream, cry, and punch him in the nose.

“Hey.” Dean stopped in front of you, searching your eyes worriedly. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t lose him again. I can’t lose anyone again. I can’t do it, Dean.”

“He’s not going anywhere. You think I’d let him go that easily?” he asked, trying to reassure you.

You shook your head, not trusting him. “You said that before. You all said you’d never leave. Everyone’s left,” your voice broke, and just like that he knew it wasn’t just rain rolling down your face.

Grabbing your arm, he pulled you to him. “I haven’t left, and I’m not going to.” Leaning back, he cupped the side of your face and tilted your head until your eyes met his. “Neither is Sam.” Running the pad of his thumb along your cheek, he held your gaze. “Do you trust me?”

Looking into his eyes, you quickly nodded. “I trust you.”

“Now come on, let’s get out of the run.” Letting his hand fall to yours, he intertwined your fingers before leading you back to the car. “Better not ruin the upholstery,” he grumbled under his breath as you slid back into your seat.

For the short second or two where it was just you and Sam in the car, the two of you met each other’s gaze in the rear view mirror. You were still worried, and he was still guilty, but neither of you said anything. You wanted to, though.

You missed being able to talk to Sam as easily as you talked to Dean, but things had changed over the years. Knowing he was about to put his life on the line, and every thought of his would be of Jess… you couldn’t deny that it hurt to think what you’d once had with him years ago was well and truly gone.

You were stuck in the car. The brothers had headed into the store while you were stuck in the car.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, though. It was the middle of the night, in the middle of a case, and the brothers were breaking in. Somewhere in that store was the mirror Mary was connected to, and the plan was to end it all. With so many things that could go wrong, you really shouldn’t have been surprised when Dean ordered you to stay in the car.

Didn’t mean you couldn’t be pissed.

As you sat there, drumming your fingers on the front seat as you leaned against it, you suddenly sat up right as a car rolled into the parking lot beside the Impala.

It was the cops.

“Fuck.”

Two officers stepped out, one of which had spotted you in an instant. With their torch shining into the window of the Impala, they stepped up and gave the glass a knock.

“Come on out,” he ordered.

Swallowing the nothing that had gathered in your throat, you slid across the seat and did as he said, getting out of the car. Stepping to the side, you watched the two officers with wide eyes as they looked you over.

“Wanna explain what you’re doing here, sweetheart?” the one who had knocked on the window asked.

Before you could answer, the store’s door opened as Dean stepped out.

“Hold it!” the other cop ordered Dean.

He raised his hands in defense. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys. False alarm. I tripped the system.”

“Who are you?” the cop that knocked asked.

“I’m the boss’s kid,” Dean lied. “And that’s my girl. She was just waiting for me while I grabbed something from the office.”

“You’re Mr. Yamashiro’s kid?”

Crap…

Dean chuckled lightly. “I know, the resemblance isn’t really there. Got my mum’s looks,” he joked. When neither cop responded, he went on, “I was adopted.”

“Really?” the cops clearly didn’t believe him.

Glancing over at the store windows, Dean sighed, “You know, I just… I really don’t have time for this right now.” Before the officer in front of him could blink, Dean threw a punch and clocked him right in the jaw.

The other officer was quick to react, but you were faster and prepared. Reaching out, you snatched the flashlight from his hold. The officer rounded on you, but wasn’t prepared as you slammed the large, heavy, metal torch into his face. The sickening crack that sounded told you that his nose was well a truly broken.

Both officers fell to the ground like two sacks of potato.

“I was handling it,” Dean stated defensively.

Sighing, you stepped over the officer in front of you, and shoved the torch into Dean’s chest. “You’re welcome.” Without giving him a glance, you walked right by and headed into the store.

Dean was hot on your tail, grabbing the crow bar he’d ditched before heading outside. He led you through the store, even though you knew he’d prefer it if you were outside. But you were just as stubborn as he was, so there was no way you were going to to sitting on your ass and twiddling your thumbs.

As you rounded the corner you found Sam… kneeling on the floor and grunting in pain.

Hurrying forward, Dean threw the crowbar at the mirror his brother was in front of, smashing it to pieces.

“Sammy?” Dean reached down and grabbed his brother, lifting his face to look at him. “Sammy!”

“It's Sam,” he groaned back.

Dropping to your knees next to the brothers, you let out a sigh of relief as you took Sam’s face from Dean to check him over yourself. Taking in the sight of the blood rolling from his eyes, you choked on a sob.

“You scared the crap out of me.” Letting him go, you slapped at his chest. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ll try.”

Dean took Sam’s face back. “God, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Come on.” Dean grabbed his brother and pulled him to his feet. “Come on.” He tossed Sam’s arm over his shoulder.

The three of you started to walk out when the sound of glass crunching had you all freezing on the spot.

Slowly, you all turned and what you found had fear coursing through your veins, thick and cold. Mary was crawling out of the broken mirror like something from a horror movie. Pulling herself to her feet, she took one look at the three of you, and you were falling to your knees.

It felt like your head was being squeeze. Like your brain was under so much pressure and the only way to ease it was to pop. Blood trickled from your eyes as you cried out in pain. Everything hurt, every bone, every muscle. What was going on in your head rippled through your body, making you curl into yourself as a pain like no other took over.

Then it was gone.

Dean let out a groan before you heard the sound of another mirror smashing.

“Hey. Hey, Y/N.” Sam was right there, reaching for you, turning you over onto your back until you were looking up at him. “You okay?”

Holding in a sob, you nodded. “I-I’m okay.”

“Guys?” Dean looked over his shoulder at you and his brother. “This has got to be like...what? 600 years of bad luck?”

Pulling yourself up so you were sitting, you looked around at the dozens of broken mirrors throughout the store. “I hate you so much right now.”

Sam chuckled lightly beside you.

Grinning, Dean got to his feet and turned to you, offering his hand. You took it and let him pull you to his feet. “Nice to have you back, sweetheart.”

“So this is really over?” Charlie asked from where she sat beside you in the Impala, which was now parked outside of her house.

Dean turned and rested his arm along the back of his seat before giving her a short nod. “Yeah, it's over.”

A wide smile spread across her face as she looked to the three of you “Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, she slid out of the car and started towards her home.

“Charlie?” Sam called before she could get far. When she turned back to him he went on, “Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.”

She simply gave a faint smile before turning back around and continuing on.

Once she was gone, Dean gave his brother a playful punching, making Sam turn to him. “That's good advice,” he noted before driving off. You were almost out of town when he spoke up again, “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.”

You sunk down into your seat and turned to the window. Part of you wanted to know, you wanted Sam to let you back in. You wanted to be the one he turned to, the one he shared all his secrets with.

Another part of you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to think about him and Jessica, didn’t want to prolong his pain or cause yourself any more. Didn’t want to risk letting him back in when he could still leave you again.

Sam sighed, “Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.”

You doubted you’d ever have Sam back… not completely… not truly.

Bamby

#alpha!dean fanfiction #alpha!dean fic #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omega!you #alpha!dean x omega!y/n #alpha!sam fanfiction #alpha!sam fic #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam x omega!you #alpha!sam x omega!y/n #abo #abo dynamics #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #her saviours

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akitokihojo · 5 years

Text

In Between: Chapter 3

Hello! Life’s still a mess, but thankfully I’m still on track!

-----------------------

SVU Precinct

"What the hell do you mean I'm off the case?" Inuyasha barked, slamming his fist on the captain's desk, the nearby container of pens, markers, and highlighters spilling over onto the paper-littered, mahogany surface.

"Just what it sounds like, Inuyasha." Their assistant district attorney stated, arms crossed over her chest in a demeanor that said she wouldn't be budging from their decision.

"You can't be assigned a case that you're involved in. Things don't work that way, detective." Totosai added, hardly phased by the temper of the half demon.

"That's exactly why I should be working it! I've obviously met this guy, so don't you think I'd be the best one to track his ass down?"

"What if you're wrong? What if this is your Average Joe stalker?"

"Look at the damn evidence, Kagura!"

"Believe me, I have. There's hardly enough to prove that you've met this perp."

"Good thing you're not a detective." He sneered.

"All I see is a case that doesn't even belong to this department." She trudged on, gritting her teeth and rubbing her temples toward the end of her sentence.

"A case I'm fighting like hell to keep because you're involved, Inuyasha. It's a huge conflict of interest and if you get in the way, we could lose it." Inuyasha flinched, clenching his jaw. If SVU lost the case, the only way it'd fall back into their hands- if the Internal Affairs Board wasn't already involved- was if a sexual crime of any nature occurred. That was the downfall of the Special Victim's Unit; they worked with the extremes: sexual assault, rape, and child abuse of all forms. "It belongs to Sango and Hojo now. I expect you to stay out of it, and when necessary, your full cooperation. For instance, right now. Miroku's been called in. Go help them evaluate the situation and then butt out when they're done. And before you ask, yes I'm serious. I.A.B. catches wind, you can kiss whatever chances we have goodbye."

"This is fucking bullshit." He huffed as he headed out, the silver hair tied at the crown of his head whipping around with the velocity of his turn, slamming the door shut behind him. Sango and Hojo were staring at a large whiteboard they'd wheeled over to their area, pictures taped up and notes scrawled in chunks, not even filling half of the surface. The detectives casually leaned against a desk as they quietly spoke with the on-call team psychiatrist, appearing more interested than the half demon felt they should. Inuyasha rolled his eyes, not looking forward to the prodding the psych was no doubt about to do. As much as he should be willing to answer all of his questions, he also wanted a new case to suddenly pull him away, making it impossible for Miroku to intrude on his personal life. He was annoying as all hell. You'd give the guy a little, and he'd be able to see the exact traumas that fucked you up when you were thirteen. It was freaky, and no human should hold that sort of power.

Inuyasha approached slowly, sighing defeatedly when their eyes fell on him, Hojo's annoying smile causing the half demon to fight back a cringe.

"It's kind of hard to get into a stalker's mind when you don't even know who the guy is, don't you think?" Inuyasha asked, fully implying that the psychiatrist was brought in prematurely.

"Not at all," Miroku began, raising his eyebrows at the question. "You don't have to have the person present to gather their motif. Maybe finding the pattern beneath all of this will help us track him down."

"What pattern? He's hit her house twice."

"I think he's been to her house more than that, actually." He stated, pointing to the printed pictures of Kagome's bedroom taped to the board. Inuyasha stiffened at the thought, his eyes shooting to the perfectly made mattress that Miroku referenced. "Everything but the bed was destroyed. In fact, he made sure to put the bed together. It all seems very detail oriented. That, alone, tells us he's got an M.O.. One that involves watching and observing from the sidelines."

"Watching and observ- are you kidding me? Miroku, he's a stalker!"

"Oh contraire, my friend. He knew what he was doing. This guy is patient. He's been taking photos for months now out of view, and he wasn't just doing that as a hobby. He was gathering the information he needed."

"Where, exactly, are you going with this?" Sango questioned.

"From what we can see of the state of Kagome's apartment, he wasn't exploring like someone who was purely interested in only her and her lifestyle; he wasn't trying to slowly crawl his way under her skin to quote-unquote connect with her. This was someone who was trying to make a statement. Yes, stalking is a major factor in all of this, but it's too superficial. This guy isn't a stalker at all. He's a master manipulator who likes the hunt."

The team was quiet, their mouths sealed shut as all of them stared back at Miroku with different levels of bemusement. It was a sign, albeit not a clear one but one he's learned to recognize, that they were just about on board with him. They just needed an extra push.

"Inuyasha, how many times has he been to your apartment?" Miroku continued, feeling confident in his theory.

"He hasn't. There's no way I could have missed a stench like his."

"Exactly. He knows you can smell him out. He knows you're a half demon and the more time he spends around you, the closer you'll come to finding him, so the drive isn't there. Yet. For the meantime, he can get away with targeting someone you care about. You'll catch his faint trail, but it won't lead you far because you'll be too busy taking care of Kagome. My guess is, this is bringing him a level of satisfaction no one can even begin to describe. I think he's been getting dangerously closer and closer to Kagome for a while now, and he's only allowing you to know now that he's got his method down and he's about to strike. He's ready to play this game because he recognizes that there's a very slim chance you'll be able to stop him in time."

"I hate to say it, but that makes a lot of sense." Sango looked from side-to-side at the two male detectives, exploring their expressions. Hojo was pondering, his blue eyes aimed at the floor while he tapped his knuckle to his lips. She knew her partner, and she knew her partner well. He wasn't convinced. Inuyasha didn't look the least bit pleased, as per usual. She couldn't tell if he agreed with Miroku's theory, or if he was just plain pissed that this was all happening in the first place. Most likely the latter.

"What about the bed? Something about it was a little too disconcerting, don't you think? What was the point of it?" Hojo asked.

"It's hard to say." Miroku's air of confidence slightly wilted away as his gaze drifted back to the board of pictures. "It most likely falls back within the lines of manipulation. When you see your house completely destroyed, what are the first feelings you get?"

"Fear, discomfort, unfamiliarity, anxiety, maybe anger." Sango listed, scooting her bottom over the ledge of her desk to sit, crossing her legs and bracing her hands on the edge of the wood.

"Lets go with the most common; fear and anxiety. He may be the kind of guy that enjoys inflating these emotions in his victims. By creating this scene, he's intensifying all of that. It's a bed she'll no longer feel comfortable sleeping in. He's touched it- tainted it, so to say. Made it appear welcoming while destroying every other aspect of her home. I think it'd be obvious that she'd rather lay in the mess than come close to her bed."

"All-in-all, discomfort, which is a simplified word for what she's feeling, is at an all time high." Hojo added as he caught on, rubbing the curve of his chin with his forefinger and thumb.

"Yes, exactly. He's violated every inch of her apartment, and he's essentially rubbing her nose in it. Not even her blankets can provide a sense of solace. If you think about it, this could be his way to get at Inuyasha, as well."

"How so?" Koga asked, walking up behind Inuyasha. He gave the half demon's shoulder a heavy pat, taking up his post beside him as if he'd been a part of the discussion the entire time.

"No one feels a bigger sense of helplessness than him." Miroku answered carefully, glancing at the hanyou. The muscles in his jaw were adamant, flaring his temples as he cocked and bit his jaw down. He seemed to be holding himself in place, his entire body rigid, ember eyes flickering around in annoyance, heavily avoiding all eye contact. It was difficult to determine if he had checked out, or if everything had processed perfectly clear. Still, he'd fully expected the half demon to blow up by now with loud proclamations of how nothing would ever happen to his friend with him around and how he'll catch whomever this is before he can get to her. The heated expression he was wearing was something Miroku had come to know very well from his years of helping the team solve detailed and riveting crimes, but everything else was slightly out of character for Inuyasha. Even if he was just holding himself together to follow orders, he couldn't help but be at least a little surprised the Inuyasha hadn't stormed away from his recent comment.

"So the creep knows how to fuck with their victims' head." Koga nodded, successfully increasing the undeniable tension swelling around the group.

"I'm not a victim." Inuyasha stated through gritted teeth.

"Now's not the time to be prideful." Hojo chided.

"I may be getting ahead of myself," Miroku spoke, redirecting the conversation back to where it belonged. "But given the circumstances, I highly believe, and agree, you've come face-to-face with our perp before. We can look back into old cases similar to this to discover his underlying M.O.. If we find him quick enough, we may be able to figure out his next move."

"What if he's not in the system?" Sango asked skeptically.

"Then we may be wasting time, but we have to start somewhere."

"According to you, we don't have time to waste!" Inuyasha shot, glaring incredulously at the know-it-all in front of them, his temper teetering dangerously on the edge. "He's getting closer and closer, and we're running on guesses!"

"You, yourself, suggested he knows you. We have nowhere else to begin, Inuyasha, so why don't we go with our gut?" Miroku responded sternly. The half demon preferred to be in charge and, at this point, just about everything was out of his hands. The more time they spent talking, the more frustrated and antsy he was bound to get. It didn't take a psychiatrist to figure that much out. Inuyasha wasn't the stoic, mysterious person that he tried so hard to be. He was as easy to read as a children's book. He was a hot-tempered, fast-paced, stubborn guy that too often bit off more than he could chew.

"Anything ringing a bell that can give us an idea where to dive in?" Hojo asked from his corner of the group. Inuyasha shook his head, inhaling deeply to quell the building flames in his abdomen.

"Nothing recent, that's for sure."

"Alright, well we'll get to it. Try to keep yourself busy in the mean time." Sango hopped down from the desk, leading her partner down the hall to Totosai's office to discuss their current plan of action.

It was hard to tear his eyes away from the photos taped to the whiteboard, and even harder not to rip them down. It pissed him off that someone brought Kagome into the mix just to get to him. There were too many pre-existing, conflicting emotions involving her in the first place, and the fact that this bastard decided to reopen that door just to antagonize him had him rightfully furious. Looking at the evidence, feeling powerless when it came to her wellbeing, and annoyingly dumbstruck as to who could possibly be behind all of this made the anger so much fucking worse.

Just who the hell had he managed to tick off this time around?

"Have you considered taking some time off?" Miroku asked, stepping in Inuyasha's line of sight, intentionally blocking him from the snapshots. Koga moved closer, as if silently suggesting he supported the thought.

"No. What the hell would that solve?" He crossed his arms to harden his stature, regretting the motion. Surely, the doc would read that as him guarding himself or some other equally pathetic evaluation.

"Maybe there's something you'd be better off doing at home as opposed to sitting here growing frustrated with a case you can't touch."

"I'm better off here." Inuyasha said resolutely, giving a final, deadpan stare and walking away, semi-effectively ending the conversation. Miroku, being smart with his fancy, expensive degree, got the hint. He'd caught the slight shrug from Miroku's shoulders in his peripheral vision before he headed to Totosai's office, joining Sango and Hojo. Unfortunately, it took stronger hints to get through to Koga, the wolf demon following close behind Inuyasha on his way to his station.

"Yeah? On desk duty?"

"I need to be here in case anything happens. Psych boy can't probe my brain if I'm sitting on my ass at home. The more accessible I am, the higher chances we have at getting this shit handled as quick as possible."

"Alright, I can get that. That's actually pretty smart of you, but I know that's not the real reason behind it."

"Oh, yeah? You gain some mind reading powers recently?"

"Please," Koga grunted, rolling his blue eyes over dramatically. "I've been your partner for too long not to know the basics about you. If you were at home, there'd be nothing to keep you busy and you'd end up obsessing over the case. You'd grow restless and then begin to conduct your own investigation, which would not fly under the radar because you don't know the definition of subtlety. Thankfully, and surprisingly, you're intelligent enough not to risk the consequences given the circumstances of involvement."

"Hey, you'd be in the same fucking position if Ayame was in danger!" Inuyasha growled, infuriated by Koga's nonchalance.

"You're not wrong. I'd want answers just as much as you do and it would piss me off when I couldn't play a hand in getting them, but I'm at least bright enough to see the blessing in disguise here."

Inuyasha groaned, pushing papers and files around his desk to make it look like he was suddenly busy, hoping it would be enough incentive to send is partner away. "Not everyone can be as infuriatingly optimistic as you, wolf."

"Jesus Chris, has anyone told you how stupid you are, dog breath?"

"What-"

"You can actually protect Kagome now! If this were your assignment, you'd constantly be up shit creek for ignoring protocol and personally seeing to Kagome's safety! Kagura and Totosai are trying to prevent Internal Affairs from getting involved, which is a pretty big fucking deal!" His partner slammed the drawer shut, nearly catching Inuyasha's fingers and grabbing the attention of the entire office. "At the same time, they're doing you a favor. Now you can legally step in; you don't need backup with you twenty four-seven to cock block. You can do whatever the fuck you want that doesn't involve touching your case. It's obvious you'll be kept up to speed on it. You'll know one way or the other what's going on at all times. No one here is against you! Why the hell is this so hard for you to understand?"

"Shut up! You don't see the bind I'm in right now! I can't help my own investigation unless called on, and I can't play bodyguard to someone who doesn't want anything to do with me. It's a fucking lose-lose. Don't act like you haven't noticed." Inuyasha seethed, reeling his voice in but keeping the growl evident.

"Oh, I've noticed." Koga's voice came off rough, deep, hardly hiding the hint of amusement behind it. "How about you use this new-found free time to handle your shit?"

"How about you learn how to mind your fucking business? She told me the other night she doesn't want my help!"

"First of all, when has that ever stopped you? You're the most persistent guy I know. Second, here's an idea, and it's wild so bear with me: fix it!"

Inuyasha groaned, rolling his eyes. He makes it sound so fucking easy.

"Say you're sorry."

"Butt out. Don't act like you know what happened."

"Alright, so tell me."

"No."

"Seriously, own up. What did you do?"

"Back off!"

"What'd you do, mutt face?"

"What the fuck is your-"

"What'd you..." Koga paused, his mouth still agape, his eyes slowly widening as some sort of belated epiphany hit him. Finally, an exasperated laugh left his lips, making him come off more crazy than annoying for once. "Wait, woah, wait. I knew I remembered her name from somewhere. A few months ago you were stressed and angry and all kinds of mopey. You kept checking your phone, and I remember seeing her name one time when I peeked over. I can't believe I'm just piecing this together now!"

"Koga!" Inuyasha growled dangerously.

"Man, I remember that like it was yesterday! I've never seen you come so close to puppy eyes in my damn life! You were the epitome of pathetic! There's no way you were only friends with benefits!"

Inuyasha stood up straight, facing Koga and stepping in to size up, his shoulders squaring as he hardened his stance while the wolf demon made no moves away, their height only separated by an inch, though Koga's demeanor made him seem a whole foot taller. The cocky fucker even wore a sly grin on his face.

Then the curve of his lips faded away, landing in a placid, flat line, all traces of amusement vanishing just as quickly as they'd arisen. Koga mirrored the half demon's determined glare, speaking in a low, gruff tone that would only bite at Inuyasha's sensitive ears. "You want to protect her, then do it. You want to be with her, then fix it. You want to get this guy, cooperate. Don't act like the sky is falling and you're the only one the pieces are landing on. You're a fucking detective. You solve problems for a living. If you're going to be high-strung in the office, expect everyone to give you a hard time. All it's telling us is you can't handle the stress, and you've got no business here. If you don't want to be with Kagome, hey, that's cool too. There's one less thing you've gotta do. You've got options. You've got a brain. Utilize it and trust us for once."

The Coffee Shop

Kagome stared down at the letter envelope placed nicely before her on the small, square table, following the path of the pale, calloused fingers that pushed it her way, over the thin-skinned, veiny hand hovering just above it, up the sleeved arm and over the broad shoulder, her perturbed gaze connecting with the slanted, violet eyes of a man. He smiled as if they were old friends meeting up in the cafe after arranging the plans weeks in advanced. As Kagome opened her mouth to say something, he raised his brows and cocked his head, cutting her off before her voice could slip.

"Let's not cause a scene." The man pulled out the chair opposite Kagome, sitting down and scooting forward, propping his chin up as he slid the envelope closer with his free hand. "That's for you. I suggest a smile. Don't want to tip anyone off, do we?"

Kagome had stiffened, justifiably both confused and uncomfortable, her brown eyes shifting to the side to see if anyone was looking. Not a single soul in the cafe was paying them any mind, bodies bustling around in the busy rush of the morning. Still, Kagome complied, giving a wane smile as she revisited the man's fierce stare.

"Do I know you?" She asked, taking the envelope from his fingers and picking it up, palpating the paper to feel the contents within. It was hard to determine exactly what she held, but it definitely wasn't a love letter.

"No, but I know you." His smile never faltered, his pale cheeks turning a dull shade of pink from his pinching smile, amusement shining through.

"I'm gonna take a wild stab in the dark and guess that you're not about to tell me who you are." Kagome grimaced, unable to keep up the facade. Her heart was pounding with the amount of nerves building up in her chest at an alarming rate. Obviously he was a threat with the way he told her not to "tip" anyone off by looking anything other than pleased, which was enough to instantaneously spike her fight or flight, the latter looking to be more satisfying. Kagome willed herself to calm as much as possible, telling herself that reacting negatively would only make matters worse. This had something to do with her stalker case, she was positive about that much. What she wasn't sure about was whether she was sitting a mere foot away from the culprit, himself, or if this was his errand boy.

"You're good at this." He chuckled. "He didn't tell me you were so smart."

Errand boy.

"That's probably because he doesn't know anything about me other than what he's seen in the pictures he takes. And these are..." Kagome waved the envelope around by the side, the weight of its contents bending the paper back and forth.

"Your guess is as good as mine." He shrugged, seemingly even more amused than before. He leaned back a bit, too comfortable for her liking, his stark black ponytail resting over his shoulder before he flicked it behind. "I also wouldn't get too confident with that theory. From what I've heard, he knows you pretty well, and your friend even better."

Kagome swallowed hard, looking from the envelope to the man before her and back down to the envelope, decidedly sliding it back his way along the table. "I don't want it."

"Not my problem." He said, sliding them back to her. "I did my job."

"You know, you're pretty ballsy to approach me this way in public."

"Yeah, yeah." His lips actually twitched downward for the first time since he'd invited himself over, rolling his violet eyes as he leaned forward and propped his forearms on the table, his shoulders sinking minutely. "You gotta do what you gotta do. I don't think you're dumb enough to make a scene right now, because who knows what'll happen if you do, and by the time you tell the police I'll be long gone. What harm will some over-pixelated security camera footage do compared to the lunatic watching my every move?"

"You don't have to do his bidding. You could turn him into the police right now and-"

"What? Your little detective friend will keep me safe?" The smile returned. "Because you're so safe right now?" The man laughed, intensifying the sickening feeling in the pit of Kagome's abdomen.

"I'm not afraid of him, Kagome. I'm not the one that needs saving." He continued, cocking a brow at her as he studied her pinning expression, leaning further over the small table. She was trying to make it illegible, stone cold, hoping her eyes would somehow fog over so he couldn't get anything off of her, but by the taunting grin he wore, she could tell it wasn't holding up. "You're afraid, though. Aren't you? The dark circles beneath your eyes tell me you haven't been sleeping very well. I don't think it's all that fair that you're suffering alone like this. You know who I think should be even more afraid than you are?"

The man rose from his seat, readjusting the hoody over his shoulders just as a barista called Kagome's name to let her know her coffee was finally ready. He looked to the counter where the sleeved, to-go cup waited, then back to her, flashing one last unwelcome, thin-lipped smile. "Inuyasha."

Before she could gather her wits, before she could find her voice and ask what he meant, the man walked away, the slightest hint of flamboyancy in his step. The notion yanked at Kagome's insides, twisting and pulling, a clammy sweat dotting her hairline as she processed everything. While it was recently discovered that he was more involved than she'd initially presumed, she still didn't know to what degree. Was it a game, or was this guy solely out to destroy Inuyasha's life?

And here she was making matters worse by acting out, being selfish, only concerned about herself and what she was going through, making sure to push the ill feelings toward the photos of Inuyasha to the back of her mind while she tried over and over to justify the way she reacted the last time she saw him- no matter how awful she felt for it. How could she claim she hated seeing him on the receiving end of this and then actively shut him out? Where had her compassion gone? No matter what took place between she and Inuyasha in the past, it didn't change the fact that they were being hunted down by someone. The both of them. Together. Yet, when it came down to it, when the opportunity was presented for them to help each other, she turned him away without a second thought. She wanted nothing to do with him when all he wanted to do was ensure her wellbeing.

Inuyasha wasn't just the victim of this ongoing, slow burn attack. He was the victim of her stupid, wounded pride and the onslaught of malicious feelings she refused to control.

Even after the events that ended whatever unspoken relationship they had, Kagome could admit Inuyasha deserved better.

She sat and waited, watching the man make his way through the unknowing crowd and exit the double glass doors without looking back at her, taking most of the dense air he'd suffocated her with along with him. Then she forced herself to move, her muscles feeling as unsteady as they would after a rigorous workout. She stood from the wooden chair, hesitantly taking the envelope with her, gently pushing through the crowd around the pickup counter and snagging the large cup with her name on it. To be honest, she didn't even want it anymore, but she knew that if this was the way her day was starting off, it was best to get as much caffeine in her system as soon as possible.

Even though she'd shoved the envelope deep into the confinements of her purse, she could practically feel it burning a hole through the cheap material, heat seeping through her jeans and irritating the skin beneath. Her fingers itched to get it opened and over with, to see what sort of snapshots she'd been rewarded this time around, but there hadn't been a good opportunity just yet. Kagome was standing at the entry of her classroom, holding the door open as her students filed in, having barely made it to work on time. Her purse still dangled over her shoulder, coffee in one hand while the other hand was held out to give high-fives to the children on their way inside.

"Hey, are you okay? You seem a little out of it." Her teaching assistant asked as Kagome shut the door.

"Yeah." She quickly dismissed, waving to push the notion aside. "I've just had a hectic morning. Would you mind leading their warmups while I get a few things situated?"

Ayumi agreed with a happy nod, pulling the talkative kids' attention her way to gather around the circular area rug as they finished shoving their belongings into their respective cubbies at the back of the room. Kagome left her to it, parking in the seat behind her desk and fishing the envelope out of her purse, using her nail to peel up the corner of the glued flap before shoving her finger through to rip the top open. She was eager to get this done, eager to see how much messier things were about to get, and then baffled when she saw the contents weren't even remotely close to what she was expecting. She flicked through the multi-colored polaroids without fully taking them out of the envelope. None of the pictured women and children looked familiar in the least. The photos seemed aged, naturally discolored, and the people in the images dressed in out-dated fashions. Every single one of them were candid and taken from a close distance, an occasional shoulder getting in the path of a clear shot. She guessed these were from the late eighties to mid nineties by the way the women presented feathered or crimped their hair, flared out the ends of their bob cuts, or purposely kept thin strands free to frame the sides of their face from the tiny butterfly clips decorating the tops of their head.

But why did she receive these? Was it a coded message of some sort? She flipped through the photos again, checking the backs of each one to see if anything was written. Nothing.

Great.

It had to be a clue. A clue meant for the police, because obviously she was going to hand it over. This guy was having so much fun playing his sick, maniacal game that he was even willingly giving information to S.V.U. to help them out, using as many messengers as necessary in between. It seemed Kagome was officially a messenger.

Although it was only a theory, it was the only thing that made sense. Why else would she be handed pictures of total strangers from over a decade ago? It could be a sign that they'd gone through the same thing she and Inuyasha are currently dealing with. Maybe even worse considering children were involved. Or, it could be something to completely derail them. Either way, she needed to show these to Inuyasha and the others. She needed to tell them she was approached by a lackey and give them the description she'd been repeating in her head to make sure no details were forgotten. She needed to get through the day with the best smile she could conjure up, get her work done, then make her way down to the police department, animosity with the half demon be damned.

No one would be able to tell where her head was if she had it her way. She could handle this. This was the hand she'd been dealt, so she had no other choice. Her life may have been turned upside down, but Kagome wasn't about to allow it to fall apart.

She waved to the few students that shouted goodbye as the last of the parents showed up to retrieve their children, traveling out of the open gate after locking up her classroom, and heading the exact opposite direction from where she lived. She kept her head down, hoping her thick, wavy hair was enough to hide her face from any curious photographers, camera clicks practically echoing in her ears. Kagome had to remind herself it was all in her head. She was being paranoid. She was under a ton of stress, so feeling this way was to be expected. She'd seen enough Law & Order to learn a thing or two, and no matter what kind of level head she attempted to maintain, she was no exception to the side affects of victimization.

The front of the building was busy as she walked up the front steps, slowly hopping up a few before standing aside and waiting for a policeman escorting a handcuffed, half-dressed woman by the arm to pass through the doors before following through, herself, quickly scouting out the directory to find which floor the Special Victim's Unit was on.

Third.

She jumped in an elevator, squeezing in with four more people and pressing the button to her destination, politely ducking out as the ding indicated they'd arrived. She wasn't nervous about reporting what had happened; she was eager to do anything that could help end the madness sooner rather than later. Yet, being in the hallway just outside their propped, double doors, getting closer and closer to entering with each step made her feel unbelievably anxious. Suddenly she wasn't so sure she could go inside or not. It was only a few days ago that she'd told Inuyasha to leave; that she didn't want, nor need, any help from him. Now, here she was, dragging her cheap boots through the halls of his domain, semi-ready to give a brief, in-person statement so that he would help her. It was that annoying pull talking again, the one that always wanted to see Inuyasha, creating an arena for her conflicting emotions to battle it out in.

The worst part of it all was she didn't know what to expect once she made it through the doorway. Was he going to blow her off? Jump up to see if she was okay? Light up like he always used to? Touch her like she found herself craving so badly in the middle of her sleepless nights? Good lord, she was being ridiculous. Eye-roll worthy, even for herself. What right did she have to feel this way? What right did she have to hold a grudge on him in the first place, and then throw it all in his face when he was trying to help? This wasn't her. She had the prerogative to be upset about everything taking place, even what he'd done to her all those months ago, but she was usually capable of handling things in a more mature manner; "usually" being the keyword.

To say she was a mess was an understatement. Kagome was a walking drawing done by a toddler, lines and scribbles decorating a page, dancing all over the place but the ends never meet to join.

This wasn't the ideal predicament to reconnect with someone, anyone would agree. Nor did she particularly want to reconnect. At first. The more she regretted her blow out, which increased by the hour since that night, the more she found herself wanting to work on things. Maybe it was just the sense of vulnerability that was getting to her. Maybe she felt isolated, and it was wilting her defenses. Or maybe she'd just come to her senses and understood that they didn't have to be friends, but they could reasonably work with one another until they got this pervert off the streets and behind bars. Whatever the case, she acted like an ass and she'd have to make it right. Or as right as possible at this point in time.

Her chocolate eyes wandered over the large, busy room, searching for the familiar head of silver hair that always gave him away, disappointed when he wasn't in plain sight. Her stomach was doing baby flips inside of her abdomen, light but still enough to make her feel unsettled. She thought maybe if she saw his reaction to her showing up, any reaction at all, she'd be able to gauge the damage she'd done.

She'd been having a long, dramatic, troubling battle with herself over the past few days about whether he actually deserved an apology or not. She was stressed beyond belief, but she never found that to be a good excuse to treat someone poorly. He'd hurt her, yes, but that still doesn't make it acceptable to react the way she had been. They were best friends before she'd kissed him. They were inseparable before Kagome fell hopelessly in love. Then things went to hell and it was over. Even though she'd cut off contact with him, he never used it against her or budged from her case. He did more than he was required to do; checking in one time with a coffee, rushing over when she called in the middle of the night, offering to help her get her home back together or even guard her as she slept. As unnecessary as it all was, it was still nice and mildly comforting.

He deserved it. He deserved better. She was being a brat.

"Hi, excuse me." Kagome stopped a young man in uniform, holding her hand out to gently touch his upper arm and grab his attention, but changed her mind last minute and flinched her fingers back just as he faced her. He gave a small smile, the dimples in his cheeks sinking inward. "I'm looking for Inuyasha. He's a detective here, I think."

"He's out at the moment. Is there something I can help you with, ma'am?"

"Oh. I just needed to talk to-"

"Miss Higurashi? Is something the matter?" Kagome couldn't help the slight jump her muscles gave, turning to see Hojo walking over to join at the officer's side. He wore a kind smile, almost charming enough to be reassuring, his blue eyes dulled by shadow and coming off as a calming grey.

"Not really. Well yes, but it's not all that urgent."

"What happened?" Hojo reached out, giving a firm squeeze to the edge of her shoulder. The entire time she'd had it in her head that Inuyasha would be the one handling whatever information she had, given the circumstances and their connection. As pathetic as it felt, she wasn't mentally prepared to speak to anyone else. If he wasn't even in the building, though, it wouldn't be practical to sit on it. She had pictures in her bag, a possible piece to the puzzle if she were thinking positively, and just a small moment ago she thought she was perfectly fine speaking about it. Of course, that was under the pretense that she knew who she was speaking to. Now all she felt was hot and nauseous and discombobulated.

"I, uh..." Kagome paused, willing the words to the surface of her tongue. "I met someone working for my stalker this morning. Our stalker. When do you think Inuyasha will be back?"

Hojo's eyes grew a little darker with the slight shift his head gave, his lips sinking downward into a serious mode she didn't imagine he had.

"I'm not sure. Come on over to my desk, Miss Higurashi. Let's talk."

"B-but shouldn't we wait for him? He needs to know this too, doesn't he?" She was nervous. More than nervous, but she didn't quite know what the emotion was called. Her palms were beginning to sweat, and she was trying to distract herself from the uprising, tingling agitation in her chest by chewing on her bottom lip. She thought she'd be in her comfort zone with someone she knew. Now she was about to give this information to someone she'd only spoken to on one occasion, and this entire situation was too foreign to make sense anymore. She just wanted one source of familiarity so that she could gather herself. Even if he was mad at her, it didn't matter. She just needed Inuyasha in the room. He could sit on the far side and mope for all she cared. So long as he was there, she'd be okay.

"I'm sorry, I thought he would have told you... he's not on the case anymore."

"Oh." Kagome hoped the surprise wasn't evident on her face. "Why not?"

Hojo hesitated, his mouth opening to respond, the corners twitching upward as he thought of something to say. "I probably shouldn't be the one to say. What I can tell you, though, is it's been reassigned to Detective Sango and I. We'll take care of you, Kagome. I promise."

He left the case. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her, shocking her heated nervous system. Inuyasha up and left her case. Apparently, when she said she didn't want his help he took it to heart. He'd taken himself out of the equation entirely, leaving her, their, situation to his coworkers. Maybe this was what she deserved, but she couldn't stifle how abandoned she was left feeling.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Hot cocoa? Water?" Hojo led her to his desk at the far end of the large office, rolling a free chair over for her to sit in at the side.

"N-no thanks." Kagome shook her head, slowly squatting into the padded seat he offered, trying to fend off the emotions that, as of right now, were completely irrelevant.

"Miss Higurashi, I don't want you to be afraid to talk to me. I'm here to help just as much as Inuyasha would be. Even more so, considering the circumstances." He said, taking his own seat and scooting an inch closer, pen and notepad already at his fingertips. He may have been trying to make her feel better, but wow, salt in the wound. Kagome ignored the jab, knowing that the detective meant well, and willed herself to work with Hojo just as she'd decided to do with Inuyasha. "So you think you met someone in acquaintance with your stalker? What do you mean by that?"

"Someone approached me while I was waiting for my coffee this morning. The way he talked made it pretty clear he was an employee."

"How so?" He asked, looking over as Sango silently joined them. She smiled at Kagome, gesturing for her to go on as she leaned against the desk on the other side of Hojo.

"He kept referring to another man, saying things like, "He never told me you were so smart." and, "...He knows you pretty well, and your friend even better." He said his job was to deliver an envelope, and that was it."

"Okay," Hojo scribbled some words on the small paper of his notepad. "Start from the beginning. What happened?"

"I was sitting off to the side while I waited for my coffee, and he comes over, slides me an envelope, and tells me to smile so no one would grow suspicious."

"Where do you get your coffee from?"

"A place called The Coffee Shop. Unoriginal but close to home."

"I've heard of it. He never gave you a name?"

"No. Nothing. Not his name or his boss's."

"What was in the envelope?"

"Oh!" Kagome reached for the small pouch still slung over her shoulder, shifting it to sit on her thighs as she opened the zipper and pulled out the creased paper, handing it to the detectives before her. "Here. There's pictures inside. At this point, I really didn't expect anything different."

Hojo opened the top of the torn flap, pulling out the small polaroids and sifting through, his brows twitching together, but not deep enough to create any wrinkles. Sango leaned in, taking the pictures Hojo was finished with and looking them over, her brown eyes scouting over the photos in the same manner Kagome imagined she looked when she'd received them.

"Do you know these people?" Sango asked, struggling to peel her sight away from the photographs.

Kagome shook her head in response, her shoulders raising in a small shrug but never lowering as the tension held her still. "My only hope is it's a hint of some sort?" The unsurety of her words rang through.

"You let us worry about that." Hojo said reassuringly, handing the remainder of the pictures over to his partner and grabbing his pen once more. "Would you mind telling me what he looked like?"

"He was... pale." She breathed, willing her body to relax a little. This was what she'd rehearsed all morning and afternoon. "Violet eyes. Pointed ears. Long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail. He smiled a lot, like he thought the whole thing was funny."

"What was he wearing?"

"Jeans. Black jeans, I think. He had on a plain, grey shirt with a navy hoodie over it."

"And have you ever seen this man before?" Sango asked, cocking her head to the side, the bangs that framed her temples shifting off her skin but keeping their blowdried curve.

"No. At least, I didn't recognize him."

"Did anything he say stand out?"

"It all stood out to me." Kagome admitted. "I remember our entire conversation. He called whoever he's working for a lunatic, taunted me a little, and said Inuyasha should be even more afraid than I am."

Both of the detectives' faces contorted in dismay, but before they could say anything, Kagome continued. She could feel herself slowly beginning to crumble under the weight that had been piling on over the weeks, her chin quivering from trying to keep the evident frown on her face under control. "I don't know what he meant, and he left before I could ask. You know, things were bad enough when there was one guy following us around, but now he's got people running his errands for him. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, but for who? I know this guy's face, but he could always employ someone completely different next time around. Or maybe even do some of the work, himself, and I wouldn't even know." She paused, trying to gather herself, looking back and forth between Sango and Hojo, trying to find an ounce of the strength she would have seen had she been looking in the hanyou's ember eyes. When she couldn't, when she realized she was reaching for something unfeasible to attain, she felt her aggravation flair. "I don't understand what's going on, and I'm sick of not knowing! Do you have anything new to tell me? Anything at all? Have I done something to attract someone's attention? Is Inuyasha involved because of me? What reason does he have to be more afraid? What did I do!?" There it was. Her breaking point was in her line of vision, not too much further ahead. For so long she'd been trying to rationalize with herself, and she finally realized that was impossible to do when nothing made sense; when the puzzle had too many pieces and everything was quickly becoming more and more complex.

"No, Kagome," Sango was quick to cross from the other side of Hojo, kneeling in front of her as if to meet her at eye-level, her warm hands firmly grasping her arms just above the elbows. "Listen, it is normal for victims to blame themselves, but the reality of it is this is no one's fault but the perp's. He's targeting you and Inuyasha for reasons that are his own and his own alone. While we don't have answers yet, we're gonna figure this out? The both of you will be just fine."

Reluctantly, Kagome nodded in acknowledgment, not fully convinced but still unexpectedly comforted by how much Sango seemed to believe her own words.

"You think Inuyasha would allow anyone to come at him without giving it back ten fold?" Hojo half-joked, leaning against his desk, one shoulder raising higher than the other with his posture. He had a point. She shook her head in response.

"Is there anything else we should know?"

"No." Kagome said, grabbing her bag and gently letting it hang as she rose to a stand so that the weight of it wouldn't jerk down on her shoulder. Sango followed her lead, releasing her hold as they grew taller. "Thank you, guys. Sorry about- uh... that."

"Don't worry about it." Sango disregarded with a wave. "We've seen worse. Can we give you a ride home?"

"Oh, no thanks." She declined, reeling herself back in and smiling delicately. "I don't live too far."

#inuyasha #kagome #Kagome Higurashi #inukag #Inuyasha fanfiction #Inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fic #in between #akitokihojo #my writing #chapter 3

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angelccake · 5 years

Text

Her, Chapter One (M)

You and him have some dark, twisted history. You’ve spent the last two years of your life trying to forget it all. What’ll happen when all of it’s thrown back at you all at once?

Prologue

Chapter Two

Word count// 1914

WARNINGS// strong language, blood/gore, torture, desecration of human remains, stalking, obsession, unhealthy relationships, character death, hints of anxiety disorder, mentions of substance abuse, rated m for future smut and grisly details

I’M IN NO WAY ENDORSING ANY OF THIS, IT WAS ALL WRITTEN FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. IF YOU ARE BOTHERED PLEASE DO NOT READ

*******************************************************************

“I have looked everywhere in this forsaken place and I still can’t find him,” I thought to myself. I had made my way across the creaky hardwood dance floor, over to bar with the sleazy looking bartender, and even slipped into the, thankfully empty, men’s bathroom. Changmin was absolutely nowhere to be found, and now I actually was starting to worry about him. He always did this, anytime we got into a big argument he would leave to go get piss ass drunk at some cheap bar, and I would have to go hunt him down to drag him home. But this time was different, I had already checked all of his usual places with no luck. So I ended up at the last bar within city limits, the “Lucky One”, and to be completely honest it didn’t look like anybody had gotten luck here in ages.

Deciding I wasn’t going to find him here, I huffed and made my way to the back door. As I got through the door I started walking towards my car, and looked up to see some guy fumbling with the trunk of his car. He looked like he was struggling, so I stepped closer to offer my help, and I saw him. I saw Changmin on the ground wearing the same outfit I saw him storm out in just hours earlier, with the guy hooking his arms under his shoulders to lift him into the car. With all common sense leaving me, my first reaction was to scream at the top of my lungs and yell, “What the fuck are you doing?!” As if it wasn’t obvious enough that my boyfriend was currently being kidnapped.

At this moment the guy had dropped Changmin onto the pavement and was staring dead at me. My whole body froze, like when an antelope makes eye contact with the cheetah that’s about to pounce on to it. We stayed like that for a moment, taking each other in or sizing each other up, I don’t know. I had to force the gears in my head to start turning again, and make myself turn to run back inside the bar. As soon as my feet hit the pavement I heard the clomp of combat boots coming at me twice as fast, I pleaded with every muscle in my body to just get me to the door then this would be over. But they didn’t listen, I felt two strong arms wrap around me, pulling into a hard chest that smelled like a burning fire and fancy cologne. I tried to break free, but the arms had an iron grip around my mouth and throat. The world around me started to darken and just before everything went black, I felt him press the tip of his nose to the shell of my ear, as if taking in my scent.

Present day

“Okay Y/n, we’re going to be working on exposure from here on out. You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if you weren’t ready,” Mrs. Kwon said while looking at me through her specs with those gentle eyes of hers. She was the kindest woman I’ve ever met, but at this moment I wanted nothing more than to slap her across her face. How could she do this to me? She knows what happened to me, what he did. She’s seen me at rock bottom multiple times, and yet she still did this to me.

Well, that’s what was going through my head this morning. But after I got the voice to stop, I understood. She wanted me to face him and realize that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, I didn’t have to be afraid. And if anybody was to tell me I was ready for that, it was her. Just after “the scare” I started seeing her five days a week, back then I could barely get out of my apartment without having an attack. But now I only saw her twice a week, and only called when I actually needed to. In all honesty, I agreed with her. Hence why I was currently making my way towards two more metal detectors, and a female guard waiting to pat me down. And it wasn’t even the thought of him that was giving me the creeps, it was the building itself. On the outside it looked like a giant cinder block with windows, and the inside was just the same, grey cement lit up by artificial light.

After my last round of security checks I met two male guards waiting for me at a pair of steel double doors, as we went through the doors they lead to a straight hallway. Same cement walls, white tile floors, but there was nothing on the walls. Not even a clock. What set the eerie mood though was that it felt like it went on forever, an occasional twist or turn here or there, but never an end. It wasn’t until we came to another steel door that the two guards stopped and one of them said, “Here we are, just go right through here.”

My eyes widened, I turned to face them and asked, “You guys aren’t coming in?” The burlier looking one, whose eyes turned into crescents even while giving me the smallest of smiles answered, “No, he requested us not to. When you’re finished you can just come back the way we came.” His response was so cool you would of thought we were talking about the weather. Afterwards they both turned around and started heading back down the endless hallway, leaving me standing in front of the door dumbfounded. How the hell could an inmate ask the guards not to be present, let alone this inmate? The longer I stood there the farther Mrs. Kwon’s words got away from me, so I held my breath and opened the door. And when I opened my eyes, that I didn’t realize I’d been squeezing shut, I was met by a not so daunting row of metal chairs in front of metal tables that were split in half. On top of the tables were giant slabs of plexiglass with circular two way mics in the middle of them, and had plaques of metal extending from the sides of them to separate the individual booths. I was surprised to see that none of the booths seemed to be occupied, but then again who would want to visit here?

I was still taking in the room when someone cleared their throat, sounding a little impatient. I turned my head in the general direction it came from, and he was there. Sitting about three booths away from the center, just lounging in his chair, twiddling his thumbs while looking at me expectantly. It was weird seeing him like this, so calm, so peaceful, so nonthreatening. He looked like he was just relaxing on someone’s sofa, completely forgetting he was the one wearing handcuffs on his wrists and ankles.

“Are you going to say hi, or do you just want to keep staring at me?”

The suddenness of his voice made me jump and shoot my eyes up to his face, but when I looked at him I saw no malice. So I gave in and answered with ease, “Hey Tao.”

With that an easy smile crept up on the corners of his lips, and I walked over to take the seat in front of him. Every bone in my body was telling me not to fall into this, not to let my guard down, but I couldn’t help it. At least for right now, he wasn’t the same guy I remembered.

He watched me the entire time with attentive cat-like eyes, finally settling them on me once I was in the chair. And we sat there for a moment, just looking at each other again. Now that I was closer I noticed all the little things about him, he was missing his numerous earrings, and an orange jumpsuit replaced all of the black leather I remembered. I wondered if he noticed anything about me. But then he broke the silence, “As nice as it would be, I know you didn’t come here to socialize.” He wasn’t smiling, but his good mood hadn’t faltered yet.

“No, I only came because my therapist asked me too. But since I’m here, I decided I wanna ask you about Changmin.“

He narrowed his eyes at the mention of his name and answered roughly, “Do I honestly have to talk about him?” Well, any hope of keeping him in a good mood had just vanished.

“I preferred that you did.”

“Hmph. Well since you’ve been so polite, what do you want to know?”

It was obvious he was trying to cover up his annoyance, he was trying to salvage the easy atmosphere of before, like he hadn’t just shattered it. Those shards hitting the floor announced to my body that it had been right all along, I shouldn’t have fallen for the pretty facade. But hey, at least now I know how a fly feels when it realizes the harmless flower it sat on was a Venus fly trap. Nevertheless I continued, I refused to leave empty handed.

“Why did you pick him?”

He scoffed, “He wasn’t so special, he was just pure opportunity. He bumped into me, which I brushed off, but then he was trying his damnedest to start a fight. So I figured, why not?”

All of sudden I felt my insides burning, and I couldn’t stop myself before blurting out, “How can you think like that? He was a human being, he had a family, he didn’t deserve to be mur-”

“Don’t try to preach to me that he was just this harmless man, that didn’t get what he deserved. He told me everything Y/n, the cheating, the fights, everything! Hell, I even saw the fresh bruises on your wrist the night I found you,” he was spewing venom, and I could feel the sting and his anger rise with each word. Along with it I could feel my own sickening fear begin to boil over, and I knew there was no way I could get him to calm down now. But I could at least try, and hope he’d listen.

“Tao just calm-”

“Don’t you dare interrupt me. You know everything I’m saying is the truth, you fucking lived it! But don’t you worry I made sure he regretted it all. For every bruise he left, I left bigger ones. Every time he sprained your arm, I broke his. Until finally I threw him the incinerator, just to give him a taste of what Hell was going to feel like. And I promise you, I was smiling as he burned. But that wasn’t even the best part. The best was when I grounded his bones into dust, relishing in the fact that he could never touch you again,” he had leaned over the table so much he was almost touching the glass, and his eyes were so dark they were nearly pitch black.

I couldn’t help it, I was horrified. This was the Tao I remembered, terrifying, vindictive, and righteous all at the same time. I knew he couldn’t get to me, but my body was just screaming at me to get away before he found a way to. This time I listened, my body moved so fast I gave myself whiplash. I heard the metal chair hit the ground, something that sounded like Tao shouting, and wind buzzing past my ears. I was running, just like I had before.

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Oh my god y'all, its here!! And y'all tell me how y'all feel, cause none of you guessed him. So now Idk how I feel either lol, But honestly, when I first came up with this fic I felt like it just had to be tao, idk why. And now its just funny bc he’s such a soft baby but I made him into a killer lol. Anyways, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT AND STICK AROUND FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!!! LOVE YALL

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erroneouslygrey · 5 years

Text

Cringing, Whinging, and Present-Giving

A 3k~4k-word fic for HP Joggers Fest 2018 - Festive Drarry by @erroneouslygrey

Summary

What Harry loves more than anything (well, other than Draco, of course) is giving presents.

...not just ANY kind of presents, though.

Harry loves to give Wonderfully Terrible Presents™ as he calls them – the kind which are terribly cringey at first glance, but upon closer inspection are actually quite lovely & personal; the kind which you pour your heart & soul into, then ruin juuuust enough so you can get some sort of exasperated reaction from the receiver; & the kind which make the receiver want to do all these at once: (a) burst out laughing, (b) cry a bit, (c) throw something, & (d) hug the gift-giver.

This year, Harry is impatient to give out his best set of Wonderfully Terrible Presents™ at the first Christmas he & Draco will be spending at the Burrow with BOTH of their families in attendance. He's managed to keep the gifts secret for about a year, & is beyond excited to reveal his thoughtful monstrosities to the wild mix of people who would be packed into the Burrow this Christmas.

With lots of meticulous planning & scrambled forgetting from Harry, lots of scolding & whinging from Draco, & lots of help from a young Teddy Lupin, Harry is finally, FINALLY able to reveal his best & most cringey set of presents.

Read on AO3

or, read below the cut

Chapter One

In his scramble to get himself out the door, Harry nearly forgot his carefully thought-out presents – the things he was most proud to be taking over to the Burrow this year. He had the idea planned since last holiday season, had ordered them partway through the year, and then had received and wrapped them a couple months ago. He had poured his heart and soul into these gifts in a way that he knew everyone would both appreciate and despise at the same time, which was always his favorite type of reaction to cause in people when he gave gifts. There was something that was extremely satisfying to him in giving a thoughtful, meaningful gift and ruining it just enough that people don’t quite know how to react to it. The gifts this year were his best of this type by far, and he had been desperate to see his family and friend’s faces upon opening the packages. Despite all of this, he was still about to leave without them, a fact he was not aware of until he saw Draco storming out to the car carrying the box that held the individually (and obnoxiously) wrapped gifts.

“Oops,” Harry said under his breath.

“Potter, you absolute fool! Were you honestly about to just drive us over there without these being in the car? You have been acting ridiculously obsessive and secretive about these packages for months, and then you just up and leave them on our bed?? Honestly, Scarhead, you are such a disaster,” Draco huffed, trying not to let his affection show through and failing miserably.

Harry grinned and winked, “Yes, dear, but I’m your disaster.” Draco rolled his eyes, face pinking slightly.

“Thank you so much for grabbing those, babe. I thought I’d put them in the car already, so yeah, I definitely, definitely would have left without them, and I would have been pissed about it.”

“Ugh, this, Potter – this is why I have a list and why I check it twice!”

“I thought that was because you–”

“Shut up, Potter, you very well know that I have no desire to be Santa Clause, and I do wish you would stop flinging such wild accusations at me. It’s rather rude, you know.”

“Oh come on, Malfoy, you can’t just say that you like to make lists and check them twice and then not expect me to make a Santa reference! It’s just not something that I could do, because not acknowledging it would go against everything I believe in” Harry argues, kissing Draco softly on the cheek.

“Whatever, Potter. You are utterly ridiculous, you know that? Especially with those horrendous Christmas joggers on!” Draco’s words are ones that he wishes came across as insult, but despite his disgusted expression, both he and Harry knew that they come across in much the opposite manner. Figuring he might as well just embrace his emotions for a moment, Draco wraps his arms around his disaster of a wizard and kisses him atop his nest -er, hair. After the extremely brief moment of affection, Draco breaks away and immediately begins lecturing Harry.

“Now, go fetch the keys and get your arse in the car! I want to help Molly with last-minute prep, and if I miss out on the first year of being able to do that because of you, I will hold it against you for the rest of our lives! Go! I will check the trunk again to make sure we have everything while you do that.”

Harry dashed inside and began looking for the keys, but couldn’t seem to find them anywhere. Suddenly remembering that he was a wizard, and that there was a simple solution to this issue, Harry cast a quick accio, which revealed as they shot into his hand that they had been in his pocket the entire time. Shaking his head at himself, Harry hurried back outside, casting a locking charm at the front door as he did so. Draco was waiting in the car for him already, so Harry quickly started the car so that they could set off for the Burrow.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The drive to the Burrow took about 30 minutes, and most of it consisted of holiday music and Draco whinging at Harry to reveal what his presents were. After months of practice at not revealing the secret, Harry was in no danger of accidentally falling for Draco’s traps now. As they got closer to the Burrow, though, their conversation turned to the last two Christmases that they spent together.

“Isn’t it weird to think that two years ago today, we had only been dating for two weeks, yet were already celebrating Christmas with your mum?”

“It really is...though I suppose we had been dancing around each other for so long that it didn’t seem that weird to us then. Mother made a comment to me after that about it being ‘about time’ or something like that,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Harry huffed out a laugh before exclaiming, “I’m so excited for today! Last year at the Burrow was nice, but it felt strange to not also have your mum there, too. I’m glad that she and Andromeda took that holiday together, though, since it’s put them on good terms so we call all celebrate together this year,” Harry said.

“You’re such a sap, Potter.” Draco continued with a vulnerable type of honesty, “I agree though, it will be wonderful to have all the people I love be together at once. It has not happened in a long time, and even then, not quite like this. That’s why it’s been so important for me to help Molly with her holiday prep – both because she is so good at making me feel part of the family, and because I want to take some time with her to explain how much today means to me and to thank her for all she has done to make it happen.”

“Of course you do, Draco,” Harry said as they pulled up to the Burrow, “which is why I told you the incorrect time for when she starts preparing.”

Draco’s face immediately began to turn angry, but before he could open his mouth to say anything, Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and said, “Look, I wanted to give you two some extra time to talk before other people joined in to help her.”

“Oh!” Draco breathed, clearly pleased and a bit flustered.

“I knew you would have fret yourself silly about it if I had told you beforehand, and I didn’t want this to be something for you to stress about. It’ll be about an hour before she begins any of her prep for today, so let’s get in there, and I’ll take care of some things in the family room and check in on Arthur while you two have a nice chat, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Draco said in a small, shaky voice.

Chapter Two

“Oh hello, Draco, dear! Hello Harry!” Molly exclaimed through the window as she caught sight of them unloading the car. “I wasn’t expecting anyone for an hour yet, I’m afraid I haven’t began any preparations, but do come in!”

They made their way inside, Harry giving Molly a quick hug before disappearing and Draco suddenly seeming to become shy.

“Um, Molly…”

She raised an eyebrow at him and said, “Aren’t you going to give me a hug, dear?”

He immediately did just that and admitted into her chest “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed is all.”

Unexpected tears began to form in his eyes, and he held onto her a bit tighter as he tried to fight them. Molly rubbed his back and told him that it was alright to cry if he needed to.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A few minutes later, with a hot cup of tea in his hands, Draco was calm enough to actually begin talking. He explained how he was really excited about today, but how he was also extremely nervous. The togetherness that he and Harry had been discussing in the car was so important to him, and it felt as though his whole world was going to shift today with the importance of it all. He felt so happy and full of love in a way he never had before, and the combination of everything had him feeling overwhelmed. Molly talked him through all his worries, calming him down and reminding him that receiving love was not something to be scared of. They talked the whole hour through, the conversation naturally shifting to lighter subjects as they began to take care of the holiday preparations.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, Harry set out his packages in the family room, helping to rearrange the furniture in the way he knew Molly liked it to be for the holidays. That finished, he seeked out Arthur, quickly locating him in his shed.

“Happy Christmas, Arthur!” Harry greeted.

“Happy Christmas to you, too, Harry! And to what do I owe the honor of such an early arrival?”

“Erm,” Harry shuffled his feet, hand unconsciously going to nervously rub at his neck, “I have a secret to tell you.”

“Oh, really, now?”

“I’ve been bursting to tell someone for months, now, and I need just one other person to know before tonight…” Harry trailed off, clearly unsure on how to continue, when Arthur’s gasp cut into his internal prodding of himself to “Just spit it out, damnit!”

“Oh...my...goodness!”

“What?” Harry demanded, immediately defensive.

“Harry James Potter, you have always been told that you have your mother’s eyes, no?”

“Um, yes, Arthur, but what exactly does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, it would appear that right now, the color of your eyes matches her’s, but the look in your eyes does not. That look is exactly like the one your father had when he approached me with a suspiciously similar look in his eyes once upon a time ago. Say no more, Harry I know what you’re going to say, and I know what you’re going to ask, and my answer to you is that there is no way that this is going to end badly in the long-run. Whether your exact plan goes as desired or not, the result will be a good one.”

Harry looked as though the weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulders from this alone, and he gave Arthur a hug.

“Thank you, Arthur. I needed to hear that.”

“Of course, Harry,” Arthur smiled kindly. “Now come help me figure out the meaning of these muggle tennis shoes! They have a wheel on the bottom, and I can’t seem to make sense of it. I can’t charm them until I understand them, you see.”

“Oh my gosh, these are Heelys!” Harry squealed. “I always wanted a pair of these when I was younger. Yeah, let’s take a look at these!”

Chapter Three

As they all squeezed themselves into the magically expanded, but still too small of a room, Harry felt his excitement growing. It was almost time for them to see what he had gotten them! However, he had insisted that all of his presents be the last ones to be opened, and that they get opened individually. Harry had Arthur on duty to make sure that Draco opened his present last. He wasn’t sure exactly what Arthur’s plan was, but he didn’t want to think about that now. Harry could hardly contain himself as all the presents from everyone else were opened, as he was too excited about his own. When it was finally time, Teddy was in charge of handing out the packages from Harry. Everyone had a package with their name on it. Everyone, expect for…

Harry glanced at Draco and saw his crushed look. Arthur had hidden it? That was a terrible plan! Harry knew he should have given more explicit instructions.

Leaning towards Harry’s ear, Draco whispered, “What happened to my present? You’ve had these ready to go forever and you have been particularly mysterious about the one for me.”

“Teddy probably just couldn’t find it. He’s not the most observant kid, you know. We’ll make our way over to check once everyone else has opened theirs. I don’t want to interrupt the whole process now.” Harry whispered back.

“Ugh, fine, Potter, but if your present turns out to be not having a present for me, I will be very, very angry,” Draco whinged.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned towards Ron as he began opening his present. Ron look utterly bewildered as he pulled out an ugly looking pair of joggers that looked suspiciously similar to Harry’s own pair.

“Er, thanks, Harry. I’ve been meaning to get–––” he noticed that the joggers had more than just obnoxious holiday decorations on them. They also, in fact, had pictures of chocolate frogs and corned beef sandwiches on them. “Bloody hell, Harry! You can’t just surprise a bloke with something sentimental like this. That’s too much, mate, I think I might cry a little bit,” Ron said as he moved to give Harry a hug, “All the way back from our first train ride, when we first met. I really do love them, mate. They’re pretty much the ugliest, thing I’ve ever seen, but I love them.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

All around him, Harry kept hearing and seeing similar reactions, as people discovered the ugly Christmas joggers within the packages, only to find an image of something quite sweet and rather deeply personal included in the design.

For Hermione, the pictures were of little trolls and of fire in a jar. For Molly, it was a picture of a trolley that was part-way onto Platform 9¾, the first sweater she made him, and postage stamps. Arthur’s joggers included batteries and the Ford Anglia. Narcissa’s joggers were of a slightly more elegant design, though they were still horrifically ugly. They included pictures of a tea cup of hers that Harry had accidentally broken out of nervous clumsiness the first time he visited the Manor as Draco’s boyfriend, as well as pictures of stacks of mail for the countless letters that she and him sent each other throughout the early stages of his and Draco’s relationship, before they were comfortable enough to talk much in person. Andromeda’s personalization came in the form of a fireplace, for the all of the late night talks the two of them shared there, and in the form of a crib, for her taking care of Teddy and allowing him to help whenever possible. Teddy’s joggers had the most personalized items on them, despite him being the smallest person. They had werewolves and full moons on them for his father, a bubblegum pink blob with a silly-looking pig nose in the center to represent his mother, a dragon for his favorite cousin Draco, and a drawing of Harry that Teddy had made himself at one time, that mostly just looked like a scribble of black with glasses and a lighting bolt in the center of it.

Everyone’s joggers were full of similarly beautiful and personal designs on them, as well as designs of reindeer, lights, trees, presents, Santa, candy canes, and the like.

Chapter Four

At Harry’s insistence, as soon as the gifts were all opened, everyone scattered to put on their joggers so that they could get a group photo in them.

Harry was quite proud of himself, but it was not over yet. He grabbed Draco’s hand. “C’mon babe, let’s go find your present! I’m sure Ted just overlooked it.”

As Harry pulled Draco along, Arthur walked by the tree, and subtly nestled the present within the branches, making it seem as though he was just struggling to carry some of the wrapping paper out of the room.

Trying to stall until everyone was back in the room, Harry purposefully lead Draco to the wrong side of the tree. They both looked all over the floor, and couldn’t find it.

Draco looked increasingly frustrated and hurt as they continued their search until they heard a little voice cry out “This one says Dwaco! You haffa nother present, Dwaco! Open it! Open it!”

Teddy had found the present before Harry could lead Draco over to it. Luckily, mostly everyone was back in the room by that point. As Draco opened the paper to find another set of ugly holiday joggers, he looked a bit disappointed, though he tried to hide it. Harry had kept telling him that his gift was much different from everyone else’s, but apparently not. It didn’t even have any personal images on it the way that the other pairs did!

“Draco, babe, you should really put them on so that we can all match in our sweaters from Molly and our joggers!” Harry said, pretending not to notice Draco’s disappointment. Draco sullenly went just behind the wall of the next room over to swap out his slacks for joggers. He didn’t want to move too far away from everyone or he might begin to cry from disappointment. He stepped around the wall as he was most of the way done pulling them up, when he felt something bump his leg from within his pocket. Looking bewildered, Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, like the kind that necklaces come in. He looked over at Harry, who blushed deeply. Draco quickly made his way over to his red-faced boyfriend before opening said box. He looked down, and what he saw inside was...nothing. He looked at Harry again, who said quietly, “Look inside the lid.”

Draco looked inside of the lid and found that a note had been taped inside it.

My darling Draco,

I wasn’t sure if you would remember this box or not. A year or two before we began dating, there was a time when I gave you a necklace, as an attempt to ask you out. You thought I was playing some kind of prank when you saw that it was a necklace box, and you threw it at my head. The necklace flew out of the box and I couldn’t find it. I was devastated to have been rejected by you, and upset that I couldn’t even find the necklace so that I could try again. I have held onto the box since then anyway, because it makes me think of you. As much as I look back on this memory fondly now, it wasn’t a very positive experience at the time. I’m hoping tonight will be different.

Draco looked up from the letter and saw Harry, who had gotten the attention of the room while Draco was reading.

“Why? Why are you hoping tonight will be different?” Draco asked softly.

“Well, you see, love, I have another box with me right now.” Harry reached into his pocket as he got down on one knee, “and I was hoping that this time it would be a positive experience from the start as well as a good memory later on.”

He opened the box to reveal a platinum ring with the image of a green dragon set in stones across the band, but Draco was too focused on Harry to really look at it.

“Draco, love, I want to keep making memories with you for the rest of my life, and I’m hoping with everything in me that you do, too. So, Draco Lucius Malfoy – my best friend, partner, and former arch-nemisis – will you marry me?”

The room went silent other than Draco, who was both laughing and crying a bit as he let out a strangled “Yes! Yes of course I will, you bloody idiot! Now stand up and kiss me already!” as he held out his hand.

Grabbing on, Harry stood up and wrapped his arms around Draco, giving him a chaste, but very loving, kiss. The family all began to cheer and gush at each other about how cute (or obnoxious) they thought the whole proposal was.

“So, are you going to put the ring on, or what?” Harry asked, half nervous, half joking.

“Oh! I hadn’t really even looked at it! Harry, this is beautiful. How did a scarhead like you come up with something like this?” He joked, slipping the ring onto his finger. “Wow, and it’s a perfect fit! how did you manage that?”

“Well, I wanted the design to be personal, and so I asked what they could do to personalize with a dragon, and then I made sure that the band was one of the ones that adjusts to the perfect size the first time that someone puts it on, and then stays the exact size needed for that person at any point in time.”

“That’s cheating!” Draco accused, laughing. “I love it, though. I absolutely love it, and I love you even more.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It went unnoticed by Draco for a little while, but eventually his joggers revealed themselves to having been personalized to match Harry’s. They had been charmed not to reveal the personalization until Harry removed the charm. They showed pictures of engagement rings on them, with the words “Mr. & Mr.” written over and over again, along with a picture of Hogwarts robes with pins stuck in it, a nod to when they first met each other. After some excitement over the design being revealed, a timer was set up on the camera so that they could get group photos in the Wonderfully Terrible™ Christmas joggers. Later on, Molly took some engagement pictures for Draco and Harry. Some were staged, while others she continued to take throughout the night when they weren’t paying attention. All of them turned out lovely...well, as lovely as they could considering the horrible look of the joggers, anyway.

Epilogue

The wedding invitations were incredibly dorky, and Draco whinged endlessly about them. He had always imagined having much classier wedding invitations, with professional engagement photos on them. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would (grudgingly) agree to send out invitations that contained dorky, unprofessional pictures of him and Harry in Weasley sweaters and matching, atrocious Christmas joggers. But, here he was, doing just that. What could he say? He loved Harry, and if the stupid joggers being on the invitation made Harry happy, then Draco would go along with it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It became a tradition in the Malfoy-Potter household that they wear the joggers every year after that. While everyone else did not wear their lovely gift every year the way that Draco and Harry did, there would always be at least another person or two who ended up in them as well (usually Teddy, until he outgrew them beyond the point which they could be magically enlarged). It was dorky, and it was wonderful, and it was Draco’s favorite part of the holidays, though he would never admit to it out loud, not even to Harry. He didn’t need to, though. Harry could tell from the way that Draco’s eyes shone as he tried to make his whinging over them convincing enough, and he could tell from the way that Draco was unable to hide the way that he lit up each when Harry declared it time to put the joggers on again.

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flippyspoon · 6 years

Note

so what about billy and steve breaking up and months later, steve's trying to move on and fooling around with other guys but billy is still 100% gone for him in the most december by neck deep way possible

WOULD YOU LIKE A THING?

HAVE A THING:

Shit

They had been broken up for six weeks and it wasn’t getting any easier.

Steve had tried to wash the taste of Billy out with Tommy’s college brother’s mouth on his dick and three blonde, blue-eyed girls, two of them from outside Hawkins because Hawkins only had so many choices.

Number 4 was Mandy, his current date. She had blue eyes but she wasn’t blonde and Steve tried to tell himself this was progress even as he catalogued that she was smart but not funny, certainly not in a snarky way, and that she didn’t have bravado masking a nakedly vulnerable inside (that he could tell). But it was only their first date after all.

Reluctantly, Steve went along with Mandy’s wish to eat at Leo’s Pizza which was rough because he used to go there with Billy (well, he had gone there with Billy twice as they had only dated properly for a couple months which was weird because Steve felt like he’d lost a goddamn leg) and also because when he attempted to date in Hawkins, Billy had a tendency to find him.

Billy found him at Leo’s.

“Um…” Mandy had asked him a question. Steve squinted at her as if attempting to hear her through a white noise. “Sorry?”

Mandy’s blue eyes weren’t piercing, nor were they stormy.

A week earlier Steve had asked girl to pull his hair and call him an asshole while he ate her out.

She had done so but it just wasn’t right.

“No,” he said, “not like you’re really mad. Like…in a cute way. Like smirking.”

“Smirking?”

“Yeah, like lovingly call me an asshole?”

“Will you just eat me out already, Steve?”

“Could you call me Harrington?”

That was Barbara. Barbara had become impatient after another few minutes of that, pulled down her skirt, and left, which was saying something as Steve had a good reputation for that particular skill. He must have been really annoying.

Now Steve squinted at Mandy and then in his peripheral version he saw the glint of an earring and a flash of blue and a blur of blond-

“Shit,” Steve said.

“What?” Mandy said, blinking.

“Ah…”

Billy sat down at a table diagonal to Steve, leaned on his arms, and just stared.

“Steve?” Mandy said.

“Nothing,” Steve muttered.

Billy ordered a soda so as not to be run out of the place and he sat and stared. Steve couldn’t quite read his expression. This had happened twice before, once at a party. Steve had not confronted him. He’d just taken off.

He felt like his heart wanted to jump out of his chest and run to Billy.

Maybe they just needed to clear the air. He could hardly remember why they’d broken up. Oh yeah, Steve thought, because sometimes he freaked out and sometimes Billy got angry and they’d become very impatient with each other. Now Steve was wondering if actually figuring out how to deal with that shit would be less painful than this. It had to be.

But as far as he knew, Billy had no interesting in “figuring” anything out. They’d screamed at each other and parted ways six weeks ago and they hadn’t spoken since.

“Okay,” Mandy said suddenly, in a wry tone different from the cheerful one she’d been speaking in. She threw her napkin on the table. “I’m outta here.”

“Huh?” Steve said.

“You’re not even on this planet, much less on a date with me, Steve,” Mandy said. “I have standards.”

“Um. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the food.”

“I should think so,” Mandy said, grabbing her purse and stomping off.

Steve sighed heavily and sat back in his chair, a half-eaten pizza in front of him. Billy was still at his table: staring. He didn’t even look satisfied that Steve’s date had left.

Steve threw up his hands and looked at Billy. “Well?”

He watched Billy swallow and say in a soft voice that was jolting coming from that pissed looking, intense face: “Well?”

“Outside,” Steve bit out.

Steve huffed and took a ten from his wallet, dropped it on the table, and stormed out. He waited outside, in the alley next to Leo’s, and craved a cigarette. Billy found him and did not speak. He just shoved his hands in his pockets, a little hunched over as he stared.

“You gotta cut this shit,” Steve said. “I mean Jesus. Let me move on.”

“No,” Billy said.

“What do you mean no?” Steve said. It hurt that Billy wanted him miserable, even beyond the regular pain of a broken heart. “What, no?”

“I don’t want you to move on,” Billy said, stepping into Steve’s space and glaring with those piercing, stormy eyes. “I want you to miss me. I want you to want me and need me and feel like you lost half of yourself because I’m gone-”

“Done,” Steve choked out, his eyes brimming.

Billy wavered at that for a moment and said, “And…and then I want you to beg, Harrington. I want you to beg for me back like you’re begging for air-”

“Fuck you,” Steve snapped. “You beg.”

“Please,” Billy whispered. “Please please, I’ll do anything-”

Steve breathed in as he kissed Billy, yanking him forward by his jacket, and Billy fell against him as if he could no longer bear to stand. Steve kissed him and kissed him, desperate, wrapping his arms around him just in case somebody came along and ripped Billy away again.

“I’m sorry,” Billy whispered against his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Me too,” Steve said and held Billy’s face between his hands, getting a good look as if to double-check this was really Billy.

“I want to…” Billy rolled his eyes and said, “I want to like…work on my shit? Or whatever. For you. For me too, I guess. I can do that. But…might need help.”

Steve gaped on him and said, “Whoa.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy muttered. “I know.”

“I can work on my shit too,” Steve said, smiling a little. “For us.”

Billy sighed and ducked his head, holding Steve’s hips and tugging him closer. “I’ve been dying, sweetheart.”

“Me too,” Steve said, and kissed his temple. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go back to my house. Work on our shit.”

#harringrove ficlet #harringrove

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lilsherlockian1975 · 7 years

Note

Sherlolly, 17 :)

meeting up at a party whilst drunk AU - Awesome! Thanks, sweetness! There are a few bad words in this one, nothing awful. Hope you like! ~Lil~

The room was spinning. Those last two (or four) vodka shots were a really bad idea. Molly tried to look normal and not at all wobbly as she made her way outside, hoping the fresh air would clear her head and hold off the nausea.

Unfortunately, her vision blurred just as she stepped onto the terrace and she ran directly into a brick wall. “Fuckin’ wall!” Wait… brick walls don’t wear clothes. Slowly raising her head, she saw that the wall was actually a tall angry looking man. “Sorry,” she said or at least tried too.

“No harm done,” the wall… man said.

Molly tried to step around him to find a place to sit down but he took her by the elbow, stopping her progress.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, especially blind drunk.” He led her to a stone bench and guided her to sit.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, actually. You came with two other females, where are they?” he demanded.

“How’d..?”

“Immaterial. Did they leave? How are you supposed to get home in this condition?”

The wall-man asked a lot of questions. She couldn’t really keep up.

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath as he pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket. “John, where are you? You dragged me to this blasted party then disappeared!”

Wall-man was pissed at John; Molly felt bad for him.

“I’ve found a girl… NO! Not like that, you idiot! She’s been abandoned and I need to get her home.” He paused and looked at her for a second. “NOT LIKE THAT! You know what, forget it! I’ll deal with this myself.” He put away the device and studied her. “The leggy brunette you came with left twenty minutes after you arrived. I lost track of the blonde but she wasn’t inside last time I was in there.”

“Mkay…”

“Do you know where you live?”

Molly nodded.

“Can you tell me?”

She shook her head. “You might be a killer, wall-man.”

He smirked. “Indeed. At least you still have some good sense.” He hauled her up by her arm. “You need water and carbs. I know an all-night diner close by that’s nice and public. There’ll be no wall-man killings tonight. Let’s get you sobered up.”

Two hours later, Molly sat across from the man (no longer wall-man), sipping water and finishing up her French toast. She felt better, though she knew that she’d be paying for her overindulgence for the next twenty-four hours.

Sherlock, he had told her his name shortly after they’d sat down in the booth (he also kept repeating it whilst she ate because he said she wouldn’t remember it! How would she forget a name like Sherlock?), was drinking coffee and watching her closely.

“I’m not going to die of alcohol poisoning now, thank you,” she said, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Perhaps not.” He didn’t look like he believed her.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” she argued.

“You thought I was a wall. Then a wall-man. Then your primary school boyfriend.”

She was glad that she hadn’t mentioned that, for a moment, she also thought he was the reincarnation of her dead Uncle Calvin.

“You didn’t go to that party to drink, why were you there?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“I was drinking, however, I can hold my liquor unlike you. And I went to support a friend.” He looked away. “I’ve never had one before, I didn’t know they were so much work.”

“Never had what?”

“A friend,” he replied.

She must have looked confused because he went on.

“John, my flatmate, he made me come with him because there was this girl there that he wanted to chat up. I don’t see the point of trying to talk to a woman when she’s downing Jello shots. If you’re really interested in getting to know them, wouldn’t you want to do it when they’re sober?”

Molly shrugged. She was still stuck on the ‘never had a friend before’ bit, but asked, “Who was the girl?”

“I don’t know. I never got to see her. Not a single deduction,” he said absently. “That was clearly deliberate. He’s hiding this one, for some reason.”

He seemed to slip into deep thought so Molly contented herself with drinking the rest of her water.

A few moments later he emerged from…wherever he’d been and went right back to bitching about this ‘John’. “Anyway, I did it. I went there and proved that I care about his interests. He says I’m a selfish wanker.” He huffed. “Would a selfish wanker make sure you weren't abducted by some sex-obsessed meat head?”

Molly shook her head.

“Exactly! Would a selfish wanker bring you to a restaurant instead of letting you pass out in an alley to choke on your own vomit?”

She shook her head again.

“See! You get it!” He looked across the room, once again, seemingly lost in thought for several minutes before he spoke again. “This is why I don’t like people, Molly, they make you look at yourself and evaluate your life. I was perfectly fine not caring about those around me until John sodding Watson dropped into my world, telling me that I could be better. Saying stupid shit like, ‘people make you stronger, Sherlock! Your friends you define you and keep you grounded’.” Taking an aggressive drink of his coffee, he continued on his diatribe, “Now, look at me! Sitting across from a pretty girl, eating a meal like a normal bloke! He’s ruining me!”

Though much more sober, Molly was still having a hard time keeping up with his rapid-fire speech. She’d caught most of it, but then got hung up on the bit at the end. Pretty girl? Before she could comment, however, he was back to it.

“I wouldn’t have even noticed you if it hadn’t been for him. The arsehole! He pointed you out the minute you walked through the door. Can’t deduce to save his life but somehow he knows my type even though I’ve never once mentioned my preference for petite, brainy, brunettes. Do you know him?”

The question caught her off guard. She shook her head as she tried to think if she knew someone named John. “I don’t believe…”

He waved his hand. “I already know the answer to that.”

“How?”

“Just like I know by the way you hold your fork that you’re a medical student. You don’t go to Barts, though. St. Mary’s, I’d say.”

“That’s spooky.”

“No, it’s deduction. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help us with our problem. I’ll need more information for that.”

“What’s our problem?”

“How, Molly? How did he do that? How did he know I’d be interested in you out of all the girls at that party?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but he went on…

“It must be his superpower, or something,” he said dismissively. He was clearly kidding. It had taken the better part of two hours and more breakfast food than she’d ever eaten at one sitting, but she’d started to get accustomed to his biting wit.

“He failed organic chemistry twice but he can spot an attractive, available woman at a hundred yards.” He leant forward. “That’s what we have to find out, Molly. How did he know I’d be interested in you?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know either, but I intend to find out.” He looked down at her plate then back to her face. “Are you done?”

“Yes.” She’d been finished for fifteen minutes, but he was on a roll and she didn’t want to be rude.

“I’ll go take care of the cheque and get us a cab.”

She started to speak up and offer to pay her half, but he was gone. What a strange man, she thought. Gorgeous, but strange. And he seemed to like her. Though he also seemed angry about it for some reason. Maybe the night hadn’t been a total bust after all. If things went well she’d really owe her new friend Mary for dragging her to that party.

Sherlock returned, holding her jacket. “Come along, Molly. We have a mystery to solve.” He helped her put it on.

“Really?”

“Actually, I have a mystery to solve. Your job is to be impressed and try not to distract me with your attractiveness.”

She smiled and bit her lip.

“Well, don’t do that! Lip biting is strictly forbidden!”

“Why?”

With a roll of his eyes, he said, “Because it makes me want to kiss you senseless, obviously.” Then he stormed out of the restaurant.

Molly followed, though she wasn’t sure if she should. The man was either unstable or a genius… or both. But she was intrigued, she couldn’t deny that. It was the most fun she’d had in ages and she was sort of invested this ‘John’ situation.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she sat next to him in the cab.

He turned and smiled mischievously at her. “Would you like to watch me break into my flatmate’s room and search through his things. I’ll teach you how to look for clues and make deductions. We’ll find out loads of embarrassing things about him. His porn collection alone should be enough blackmail for about a year.”

God help her, but that did sound like fun!

Thanks, love! Hope you liked it! ~Lil~

#klaraneedsanotherseason #short fic meme #sherlolly #drunk meet AU

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