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storiesofsvu · 2 years

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Under Over Ch 27

Joe Velasco x reader warnings: language, thats basically it. welp, we're here. at the end of the line (for now) thanks y'all for coming along and being the best readers I could ask for! i simply adored all the comments and messages about stuff and am glad you all enjoyed! stay tuned for the sequel!!!

Wrapping up the cases ended up being easier than you had expected. Between the giant piles of evidence and most of the perps not wanting a public trial to further tarnish their images, most of them took plea deals. All in all, everything had worked out spectacularly and between the squads and the DA’s office things were looking up. You’d managed to get rid of a corrupt chief, and spirits were high when it was revealed that Chief Garland would be reinstated immediately. Your bust had also managed to clean house on more than a handful of dirty judges, lawyers, cops and the like, those higher up wanting deals flipping on other people they knew had been at parties, and it always felt good to get rid of the rats. You managed to stay out of the eye of the press during the entire debacle, and warned Joe to try and do the same, you wanted to make sure you’d be able to still work UC without getting any heat in similar situations and if your pictures were all over the papers, you wouldn’t be able to.

Today, you were on your way into the 16th precinct, flashing your shield to the desk jockey before making your way upstairs to SVU’s floor. The bull pen was relatively quiet, especially compared to how flooded it had been over the past couple of weeks with multiple squads sharing the space. It appeared Olivia was out of office, you were unsure if it was work or personal related, Amanda was refilling coffee in the breakroom while on the phone, Fin and Joe at their desks. The movement in the room cause Joe to glance up, a soft smile breaking out on his cheeks at the sight of you moving through the space, a warmth coursing through him at the fact that you were in a nice sundress and heels rather than your go to work outfits.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked and you let out a small laugh, placing a bag onto his desk as you perched on the side of it, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.

“Figured I’d bring you lunch.”

“Yeah? Where’s mine?” Fin called with a tease and you shook your head.

“I dunno. Ask you wife.” You teased back and he chuckled.

“I would be she’s a little busy covering someone else’s workload.”

“It was her decision to put me on modified!” You retorted with another laugh.

“Yeah?” Amanda interrupted, crossing through the teasing match, “heard you blew a stitch in the field the other day.”

You shot her a playful glare before glancing down at Jose whose hand came to squeeze at your thigh. You had certainly blown a stitch, and you quickly learnt how painful that was, and even more so, how painful it was to get stitched up without any anesthesia. The ordeal was more than enough for you to finally agree to Phoebe and Jose’s insistence that you take it easy for a while. A minimum of one week paid medical leave followed by desk duty until the stitches were out, boring, but you’d manage it. Honestly, it was probably a good thing to have the extra time to readjust to your undercover op being over.

You heard the rustling of the paper bag as Jose began to pull the containers out and you turned back to him when he spoke.

“This looks fancy.”

“Le Bernardin.” You replied.

“Calhoun?” He asked, opening the container of truffle seafood pasta, figuring you’d been paying off one of your thank you’s to the attorney, your attire making much more sense now.

“David.” You smiled, reaching out to fix a piece of mussed up hair, “who was insistent on mini champagne bottle in there despite me telling him you were at work.” He chuckled at that, “he and Elaine fly out tonight and they have made it well known that we’re invited to D.C for Christmas and New Years.”

“Yeah? For those stuffy political events you all hate so much?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I told him the chance of it happening were slim to none but thanked him for the offer. Their guest house does have its own jacuzzi though.”

“Okay now you have me intrigued.” He admitted before taking a bite of the food and groaning over the taste. You let out a little chuckle as he raved about it, your hand cupping his cheek while you leant down to kiss him softly.

“I’ve still got a couple of errands to run, I’ll let you get back to work.” His free hand squeezed at your leg as you slid off his desk, “I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, a smile on his cheeks that was the silent I love you before you made a quick goodbye to the other two and disappeared from the room, stepping through the elevator doors.

Amanda waited a moment before she tossed a pen over to Velasco’s desk and he looked up at her confused at the cocked brow.

“What? Carisi brings you lunch all the time.”

“She said she’d see you at home.” She smirked and he let out a huff, especially as Fin began to chime in.

“You two really are movin’ fast, aren’t you?”

“She was living at the penthouse and a UC apartment.” Joe defended, “it’s New York, she had to sublet her place and didn’t know how long she’d be gone so there’s still someone in it.”

“Sure.” Amanda grinned, turning to face Fin over their desk, “yeah they definitely fucked while they were under.”

“Hey, I know nothin.” He replied and Joe let out a quiet swear before Amanda chucked an eraser at Fin who let out a laugh at her raised brow, “yeah that’s a straight up lie. They were definitely hookin’ up, Phoebe told me.”

“Oh my god.” Joe muttered, running a hand over his face despite the fact that he was already sure Fin had known, and Amanda had basically figured it out while he was still under. He was at least thankful Olivia wasn’t around to hear any of them.

“Ohoho! Velasco!” Amanda laughed, “you dog. You really are lockin’ it in.”

“What was I supposed to do? Send her off to a hotel? You help out the people you love, don’t you?” The drop of the ‘L word’ was met with more choruses of playful teases and jeers from the other two.

“In the love stage already?”

“Okay, you know what?” He couldn’t help the little laugh that accompanied his eye roll, “you’re married.” He gestured to Fin, then turned to Amanda, “you’re basically married, I shouldn’t be getting teased for this.”

“We’ve gotta live vicariously through someone.” Amanda replied with a shrug, turning to Fin, “so…what’d’ya bet? Two weeks til he buys a ring?”

“That’s it.” Joe huffed with a laugh, pushing back from his desk and collecting his phone and lunch, “I’m eating in the break room.”

Amanda and Fin let out a chorus of laughter, watching him go before Fin called out to him, causing him to turn around.

“Pretty boy, don’t take it too rough, we’re just teasing.” Joe rolled his eyes at the nickname but hovered in the doorway while he waited for Fin to continue, “and hey, sometimes we don’t do things in the stereotypical timeframes and that’s fine. I mean, this could be the ample time to ask her to actually move in.”

“He’s right.” She chimed in, “and you said it yourself, housing in New York can be a nightmare to find. This could be the sign that she give up her place when the lease is up.”

“I dunno…” He mulled over it for a moment.

“Take it from me,” Amanda started, “even the girls who seem the most fiercely independent like having a nice man to come home to at the end of a long day.”

“Yeah?” Joe asked with a grin, tease evident in his voice, “Carisi move in while I was gone?” Surprisingly, her cheeks turned pink and she nearly ducked her gaze while the other two men laughed.

“We’ve been looking for a place.” She admitted, “but he’s trying to convince me into one with a yard for the girls and Frannie.”

“You want a place like that you’re gonna need to leave Manhattan.” Fin commented and she groaned.

“Don’t remind me.”

With a chuckle, Joe disappeared into the breakroom, thankful for the distraction calming their antics.

When he got home that night he was met with a delicious smell wafting through the apartment and you in the open kitchen, your attention half on the stove and half on your phone before you glanced up to him. You smiled warmly, greeting him with a soft ‘hey’ as he shucked his coat, tossing his bag to the side table and made his way through the space. He wrapped himself around your back, pressing kisses into your neck and shoulder.

“You bring me lunch and you make me dinner, careful, you’re spoiling.”

You set down the spatula in your hands, turning in his arms to greet him with a tender kiss as you chuckled.

“I wasn’t going to bring you lunch, that was David’s insistence.” You laughed, “and it’s not much, some stuffed chicken, potato and veggies. Besides, I was bored out of my skull.”

“Well it smells delicious.” He ducked to kiss you once again, “you’re bored now? How’d you manage that penthouse life?”

“I had people to hangout with there.” You laughed in return, “lavish shopping trips to go on, parties to plan.”

“Blowjob seminars to teach.” He teased and you barked a laugh, swatting at his chest.

“I’m sorry, did you want your dinner?” You raised a brow and he chuckled, stealing another kiss as his hand raised to your cheek, caressing at your skin while he gazed at you for a moment.

“I can’t lie… it’s really nice to be coming home to you, or with you.”

“Yeah…” you smiled, your hands looping behind his neck, “far better than a quiet cold apartment.”

“Hey uh… when’s that sublet done?”

“Two months when the lease is up.” You couldn’t help the small grin, knowing what direction he was likely going.

“Well... I was thinking, considering you spend so much of your time here already, why not make it official?” The grin on your cheeks grew to one even wider as you let out a little giggle.

“Are you sure? I mean, I know things have been kinda…fast in the way we’ve been moving forward with things.”

“And I don’t care.” He smiled down at you, “I’ll admit I was hesitant before but… the squad might’ve gotten to me a bit after you left today.”

“You mean they were teasing the shit outta you?” You raised a brow and he laughed.

“Yeah.” His finger curled under your chin, tilting your lips up to his for a kiss, “but if I get to come home to you and wake up with you every day, it makes it all worth it.”

“You really are goin’ soft on me pretty boy.”

“Maybe that’s because I love you.” He murmured back and you felt your heart swell in your chest.

“I love you too.” You kissed him once again, letting out a happy sigh into the kiss before it ended, “and for the record, I adore waking up with you every day too. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

“So it’s settled then?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, “I told you; I want a future with you. I did when I said it and I still do now, no matter what life decides to throw at us, I know that as long as I have you, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“And now you’re going soft.” He chuckled and you did your best not to roll your eyes as he kissed you again, “and exactly like I said then, you’ve got me. You’re stuck with me, because I am not letting you outta my sight.”

“You okay with however long it takes you to set the table?” You asked as the timer went off and he laughed again, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he let you finally slip out of his arms.

You turned to the oven and stove, pulling out everything for dinner as Jose flitted around you to get what was needed to eat along with a bottle of wine. As you settled into the table that night it was more than apparent your love for each other and just how strong it was. You were seated perpendicular to each other, easily able to feed each other bites or have a quick caress of a cheek or hand resting on a thigh. The conversation was light, laughter and small grins bouncing between the two of you as you simply enjoyed each others company.

While the way you had come into each other’s lives wasn’t exactly conventional, you knew that there was no place either of you belonged but here. You consistently had each other’s backs and would always look out for the other, no matter what the circumstances. Jose had butterflies the moment he first set eyes on you and you weren’t far behind him, as you discovered just how sweet he was you fell hard and you would be forever grateful that he felt the same way. Somehow, the two of you had managed to find your future and everything you craved from life through an undercover operation, and honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

_____________ @witches-unruly-heart @fandom-princess-forevermore @cycat4077 @xoxabs88xox @alwaysachorusgirl @teamsladsandgents @thatesqcrush @im-just-a-mississippi-girll @wandas-wife @katieslotherford @almatra @momlifebehard @dondivajadee @misscharlielulu

#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #law and order svu #under over #law and order #svu #law and order special victims unit

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bad-bitch-beauchamp · 3 years

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Songs About Me: Chapter Five

Thanks for your continued support for these sweet artsy bairns! Here’s the next installment! I read all of your kind comments and they mean the absolute world to me.

READ ON AO3

Louisburg Square, Beacon Hill, Boston

Claire was just walking up to the picturesque green of Louisburg Square, where her townhouse sat facing the gardens, when her phone began an incessant buzzing. She had her hands full after stopping at the market for dinner staples (otherwise known as a box of Velveeta Shells & Cheese). She was fumbling with her purse and muttering a not-so-quiet “Shit,” when she dropped her keys on the porch. When she stooped lower to get the keys, more toiletries from the market spilled onto the ground and rolled down the steps while her phone continued to buzz. “Oh fuck it all to hell… Oh hello, Mr. Grant!” Claire’s next door neighbor was a kind man, but always appeared perplexed -- whether by her uncontrollable hair, clothes splattered with dirt from the shop, or simply by wondering how she came to be the owner of one of the most coveted real estate properties in New England, Claire would never know.

“Hello dear. Are you alright over there?” His brow was knit as Claire shoved her scattered belongings back into their various bags all while muttering under her breath as to not offend the old man’s sensibilities. She stood, and realized he had most definitely already heard her vocabulary choices.

“Oh, I’m fine, just one of those days!” One of those days where you fall head over heels for the strange guy you met last night and then all your shit falls on the sidewalk because your brain is short-circuiting.

“Well as always, if you need anything, I’m just here and happy to help.”

“Thank you! One day I’ll absolutely take you up on it -- I’m usually less of a mess!” She tried to joke it off, but it sounded a little too much like she was trying to justify herself to neighbor, and herself.

Mr. Grant smiled. “Of course, dear. Ah, you seem to be very popular today!”

Claire’s phone went off for at least the fifth time. She tried to reign in her annoyance, said her goodbyes to the man, and using her foot to kick a back of groceries inside the doorway finally made it inside. She dug around her bag for the phone ready to lash out at whatever telemarketer couldn’t take a hint, but stopped.

Two missed phone calls, four missed texts. The caller left a voicemail for each call. She pressed play on the earlier one.

“Hi Sassenach, uh, Claire, I guess I should call ye Claire since that’s yer name, huh? Shit. Hold on… Okay, let me start over. Hello Claire, this is Jamie. James. James Fraser? From the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken? Of course she kens, ye damn eedjit… Me! Not you! Oh god this is literally the worst call I’ve ever made in my life. Fuck it, I’m just going to try again.” The voicemail abruptly ended. Claire was in stitches at his earnest attempt to just talk to her. At least he wasn’t lying when she heard him say she wouldn’t have to wait long at all for message from him. She pressed play on the second voicemail.

“Hello Claire, I hope this message finds ye well. It was verra nice to see ye today at my shop. It may be the cool, relaxed thing tae do would be to not call ye right away, but ye make me feel anything but cool and relaxed and under control. Ye make me feel… like there’s something different between us, mo nighean donn. As I told ye in the shop, I dinna think I can wait another week to see ye. If you would do me the honor of saying yes, I would verra much like to take ye out for dinner and drinks. Or anything ye wanted to do, really. Dinner and drinks was just my idea… okay I think I’m getting flustered again so I’m going to quit while I’m ahead. Okay thanks, talk to you soon hopefully, bye. Oh, and this is Jamie Fraser.”

Her laughter had died out the moment he said how she made him feel. Is that really how he felt about her? Did he mean it? Claire had a feeling that Jamie Fraser from the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken didn’t ever say things he didn’t mean. She fell into the couch facing the big bay window, and breathed. Her breath came in heavy, her heartbeats fast. Her thoughts were swirling and her mind racing and everything felt light around here. A little breathlessly, she opened her text app to a number she didn’t recognize.

[+16178256192]: Hello Claire, this is James Fraser from Fraser Literature and from karaoke last night at The 21st Amendment.

Claire actually laughed out loud now. As if she could forget who he was! He had turned her world upside down at the bar, she sang in his shop, she gave him her phone number less than an hour ago! She added his number to her contacts before reading his following texts.

[Jamie]: Okay that was weirdly formal, sorry

[Jamie]: Could ye do me a favor and just delete the first voicemail?

[Jamie]: I was hoping we could maybe set up a time for the date I mentioned earlier at the shop? I would really like to see ye again before next week.

[Jamie]: And maybe before we have to hang out with the Spanish Inquisition. ;)

Claire laughed through her nose at that last one; apparently, Jamie had been grilled about their relationship? Interaction? by Rupert and Angus like Claire had been by Joe and Geillis. She reread all the messages he’d sent her before responding.

[Claire]: Hello James Fraser, owner of Fraser Literature and karaoke. I do indeed remember and even if I didn’t, you’ve reminded me several times in your many incessant texts/voicemails. ;)

Three dots immediately popped up, disappeared, popped up, and a next text appeared.

[Jamie]: I told ye to delete the first voicemail! You weren’t supposed to hear my rambling!

[Claire]: Uh huh, seems likely. ;) Maybe I have a super power that renders you useless around me?

[Jamie]: Well lass you're not far off.

[Jamie]: How’s about that date? What are you doing tonight?

[Claire]: Lol, you’re not tired of seeing my face yet?

[Jamie]: Not yet, not ever.

[Jamie]: Sooooooooo, dinner? ;)

Eventually, they decided on a little Italian place close to Claire’s place. Claire paced around the upstairs bedroom, trying out an outfit only to rip it off and throw it in a pile on the floor. She’d walk to the bathroom, evaluate her look, give a deep breath out her nose, and was now at the point of yelling about how she had no clothes. But, she remembered. In a garment bag at the back of her closet hung a blood-orange dress. A square neckline gave way to a triangle dip in the middle, the hem came just to the middle of her thigh with a cinched waistline.. She smiled, sadly. The last time she wore the dress, she was still in med school. Frank had asked her out to “a dinner with a few medical friends” and promised she could make a few connections to help her down the road. Claire ended up discarded at the door until Frank needed to show her off to a classmate or professor or colleague. She learned he hadn’t told anyone she was also studying medicine, telling her he “wanted to let you stand on your own, darling.” The last time she had worn that dress, she realized she wouldn’t resign herself to a life of being second-best to her partner, to a group of strangers, or to anyone. Tonight was the perfect time to remind herself she was taking things into her own hands yet again -- with Jamie at her side. Her smile turned genuine, and she pulled it off the hanger.

-- -- --

Jamie knew this was unusual. Claire wasn’t the first girl he’d ever been interested in, but if he had any choice in the matter, she would be the last one. Rationally, he should’ve been talking himself out of planning a future with the girl from the bar, but he couldn’t help himself. When he was in high school in Scotland, he kissed a girl who smelled like hairspray and spun sugar and he didn’t like that at all. He kissed a few lasses before rugby games and they’d tell him it was all for good luck. He enjoyed them (didn’t every red-blooded teenage boy enjoy kisses before sports games?), but enjoyment was the extent of it. In college, he had met Annalise. She was smart and kind and lovely, and so bonny. She’d loved his family, loved him. And he had loved her, too. Their relationship started after their first year at school when they became close friends and confidants. She was truly one of the best friends he’d ever had, outside of the lads. When he said he was leaving Scotland to pursue his dreams in the states, she said she was being “abandoned”. Jamie considered asking her to come with him to build a life, but reconsidered. After many long conversations, many tears, many honest words… they had decided their relationship was based in comfort. They loved each other, there was no doubt about that. They loved each other because of their close friendship, their proximity to each other at school, their families’ friendship that developed because of their own. When Jamie confronted Annalise about his realization that he would forever be grateful for her, but didn’t see a romantic future together, she had cried and told him she was so happy -- she felt the same. They split amicably and continued to call and text when they could. Friendships like theirs didn’t just dissipate.

With Claire, things felt… different. Emotional, raw, honest, profound. It felt like something he couldn’t quite place. Something he didn’t have words for. The mere thought of her made his pulse quicken, made his breath catch in his chest. Their connection last night at the bar, their physical connection at the bookshop (god, how it felt to be touched by her…) , their easy banter over text, and then when she gave him her address… he had to sit down. He knew her address exactly. He’d passed it every time he went home, or went to work, or went anywhere at all. She lived in Louisburg Square, across the garden and just to the right of a place he knew intimately. She lived across the garden and just to the right, of his place. They were neighbors. He never knew. He thought back to telling her how they must have just been missing each other for years, but god, he never knew how close they really were.

Jamie finished tying up his leather boots and took a look in the mirror. Hair brushed back, curls falling at his neck, a light blue button-up, a leather jacket. Not too bad. Still not good enough for her, though. He tugged at the neck of his shirt, and left his townhouse. He made his way up his side of the square, and stopped not ten feet up the sidewalk. He saw her. From the second floor, Claire was illuminated by soft light in the window, gauzy curtains framing her. He could only watch in awe as her head tilted to the side to fit an earring to her ear. She reached for a brush and started to comb out a curl. Jamie sighed contentedly when he noticed her hair was still down, curled around her face, wild as ever. Claire gave up with the brush and settled herself to smoothing down creases in her wee dress with delicate hands. Hands that had touched him, healed him, had literally written her name over his heart. She was... ethereal. Tearing his eyes away from the window, he managed to send her a message:

[Jamie]: On my way there Sassenach

[Claire]: No worries, take your time. See you soon!

Jamie rounded the center garden and up to her steps. The light from the window was still glowing, but he could no longer see her. One more text:

[Jamie]: Just outside

He walked up the steps, raised his knuckles to the brass knocker, and paused. First step to forever… His phone buzzed.

[Claire]: I thought I said to take your time? ;) seriously, how’d you get here so fast? Just a sec and I’ll be down!

He did knock then, answered her text to say there was no rush, he wasn’t going anywhere. Behind the door he heard a literal run down the stairs and he stifled a chuckle. There was a jingle of keys, a fairly loud, “Shit!” as the keys hit the floor, a scuttle of shoes around the entry, and the door opened.

Here we go, lad.

#songs about me fic #in which tessaactually tries fan fic #outlander fan fic #outlander fan fiction #jamie x claire #the frasers #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp

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sheerbeautyreigns · 3 years

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SECRET

Part 46

Joe stayed in hospital for the next couple of days. He would only see his mother Patricia but he didn’t want Jade to see him this way. There was already so much talk about that had happened him. The dirt sheets were having a field day. The full details of his ordeal weren’t exactly known but everyone knew that Josh had saved him.

Josh had a lucky escape with Bri and hadn’t actually been shot but she said get him hard on his head when she hit him with the gun. He needed some stitches and suffered a concussion but he was glad to be alive.

On Joe’s side of things, he didn’t tell anyone in his statement, the full extent of Briana’s attack on him. He felt so deeply ashamed and upset about the whole thing. His wrists and ankles still bore the marks of the cuffs. The swelling in his eye had gone down thankfully but he was still pretty bruised. He had to have five stitches in his lower lip. There were bruises scattered throughout his face.

His mother stayed with him as much as she could in those two days and took him home when he was ready to go. Eventually, she talked him into allowing Jade to visit. She arrived at 3pm that day with a small suitcase as she had planned to take care of him that week. It was also Jade’s first time meeting Joe’s mother. Patricia came out the front door the meet her after her car pulled in. Butterflies filled Jade’s stomach at not only meeting her for the first time but also seeing Joe. She knew he was very self conscious in having her see him.

“Jade, so good to meet you finally.” She gave a warm smile and pulled her into a hug. “Great to meet you too Mrs A’noai.” Jade smiled.

“Please, call me Patricia.” She insisted. “OK,” Jade nodded. “How is he?”

She lowered her voice “He’d been so quiet over the past couple of days but he’s started to come around more today. I think he’s glad to be home and he’ll be all the better for seeing you. I’ll be going back home in a little while so I’ll be leaving you two alone. I know you’ll take care of him.”

“I hope he’ll be ok. I know he didn’t wanna see me...” Jade started.

“Oh honey, don’t think of it like that. He’s just hurting. He needs time.”

Jade felt knots in her stomach as she went inside. She hadn’t seen what Briana had done so she was bracing herself. Patricia excused herself and went into the kitchen as Jade went into the living room. “Hey.” She said softly standing by the door. He was sat on one side of the sofa, his fingers fidgeting with the arm rest. Hesitantly, he looked up at her. It was as bad as she had expected. Slowly, she approached the sofa and lowered next to him. “I missed you.”

He extended his hand to her thigh and squeezed it gently. She laid her hand on his. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t see anyone. It was just too...”

“Shhh you don’t need to explain anything. I’m just glad you’re safe.” There was obvious relief in her voice. “I was so scared. I thought I was gonna die.” He shook his head, recalling the events of a couple of days ago. “It’s OK baby. You’re safe now.”

They continued to talk for a little while until Joe’s mother announced she was leaving. He pulled her into the biggest hug and thanked her for being there. It warmed Jade’s heart to see this side of him.

Joe refused to go to the door to see her off as he was paranoid about being seen but thankfully she understood.

“Have you eaten much today?” Jade asked as they went into the kitchen. “To be honest, I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“Baby, you need to try...keep your strength up. Can I make you something small?” She was determined to get him to eat and he knew he couldn’t win with her. “OK sure. My jaw’s still a little sore so something soft if you can.”

“OK I’ll whip something up. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in front of the TV and I’ll be in soon OK?” She stood up on her tip toes and kissed him gently. He did as told. She was happy to fuss over him.

She whipped up some pasta and oven roasted vegetables for both of them and settled down in front of the TV with him. They spent the next couple of hours chilling on front of the TV until Joe started nodding off.

‘Baby?” She said, gently nudging him. Slowly, his eyes opened. “Do you wanna go to bed?”

“It’s still early.” He said groggily, half smiling. “I don’t care. You need some rest.” He nodded slowly. “C’mon.” She helped him up, putting his arm around her as they ascended the stairs. They had takes a few steps into his bedroom when he froze “No...no.” He shuddered, backing up, now fully awake. “Baby what’s the matter?” She reached for his hand but he flinched, running his hands through his tied up hair. “I can’t.” He left the room with Jade in tow. He felt a sickly feeling in his stomach and ran into the main bathroom down the hall. Before Jade could catch up, she could hear him throwing up in the toilet.

She slowed her pace as she got to the bathroom door. He was on his knees crouched over the toilet bowl. “Oh baby-“

“Don’t. I just need to be alone right now.” His voice was shakey. He pulled some toilet roll off the holder and seemingly wiped his mouth. Hesitantly, she approached him “I don’t care. I wanna help you-“

He cut her off “Jade. Please.” She shut her eyes and exhaled, leaving the room. She retreated downstairs, trying to hold back tears. She just wanted to help him but she was being pushed away.

#roman reigns #wwe #tribal chief #fic #roman reigns fic #fanfiction

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years

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Dean Winchester: Save Her Part 2

*Not My GIF*

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, cuddles, an argument between Sam and Dean

Rating: Adult Mature

Point of view: Dean Winchesters

Summary: The next few months that past by Dean is trying his hardest to make up for his own bad decision. He does something to let her know just how important she is to him.

Word count: 1,631

☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤☆¤

For the last couple of months since I yelled at Y/n, I have tried to make up for it. Hunts had gone smoother at least I think, Sam had ended up having a very detailed conversation.

He talked to me about how I needed to understand her feelings, notice when she is starting to recluses herself, or is just quiet. Important things that Y/n had brought to my attention when I caught her trying to leaving.

I guess this was going to be work. If I wanted her to stay with us and with me, I had to be able to work on the things that Y/n needed me to work on. So from now I just want things to go better for the 2 of us.

Y/n and I had been working on things, less yelling, and more talking. The tension between Y/n had finally dialed down, but Sam was still very upset with me. You see if he had just said something to me I would have realized what I had done sooner and then Y/n wouldn't have left well almost left.

Redeeming myself was the first thing to do on my list. I really don't have a plan, but maybe something will come to me.

Sam found a hunt, that was only about 30 minutes away from the bunker. So we packed our things and drove out to the hunt, this was going to be a simple salt&burn at least that what Sam and I thought. Instead, it turned out to be an object that was cursed and then a salt&burn.

In the process of trying to keep the monster at bay and light the damn object on fire, Y/n had been knocked out and hurt pretty badly.

"Son of a bitch!"

I said after the object started to burn, causing the ghost to burn and cry out. Finally, I was able to make my way to Y/n she had a bad cut down here upper thigh, and a few smaller cuts on her chin and cheek. She was out cold still breathing, I picking up her body. Sam hot on my tail opening all the doors so I could place her in the back after doing, so I threw the keys at Sam getting into the back of the Impala resting Y/n head on my lap.

"I shouldn't have let her come on this hunt."

I spoke loudly enough for Sam to hear me over the reve of the engine.

"What? This is exactly why you guys got into a fight and she almost left because you think she can't handle it."

Sam said, he thinks that we didn't resolve our relationship and that I still don’t think she is capable of going on a hunt.

"No Sam, that's not what this is okay. I just don't like seeing her get hurt especially when neither one of us got hurt. And yes I know it comes in the job description but I guess I am just tired of seeing the people I love most being hurt. That goes for everyone else, even you Sam."

I said to Sam. My whole demeanor and tone changing as I become more and more upset with every word I said. Y/n shifted in my lap, her eyes fluttering open seeing that she was in fact not where she was last awake. The ending to our conversation coming rather quickly, but I personally think Sam was coming to understand that I was no longer upset with Y/n, I just wanted her to be as safe as possible.

The rest of the car ride was quiet. Y/n curling up in a ball the cut in her thigh bleeding, so much that it was bleeding through to her jeans. She winched when she moved, causing her to close her eye her nose squishing up in a base at the base of where her glasses usually sat. Finally making it to the bunker carrying Y/n in, laying her in her bed. I really didn't want to violate her, so I grabbed a pair of scissors, and the medical kit that held all the shit I'd end up need. I was hoping that she wouldn't mind me cutting through her jeans.

I put a mental note to go out shopping with her so she could get some brand new jeans and other things. Something to calm her mind, but anyways back to the deep gash that lined Y/n's upper thigh. I brought the scissors to the bottom of her jeaned leg and cut through the almost skin-tight pair of jeans that Y/n decided to wear today. As I cut the material Y/n started to stir but not enough to cause the blade of the scissors to cause her any more pain than she was already in. I cleaned the gash and stitched her wound up the needle piercing her skin caused her to awake, with a scream that could make anyone have an instant headache.

She looked at me confused, she went to speak but I cut her off. Telling her that she was cut pretty badly and I hadn't violated her but instead cut her jeans, she huffed and pulled her hand out in the motion of "Give me" like when a child wants something from their parents. I had a feeling I knew what she wanted, she wanted my flask, and more specifically my whiskey filled flask.

I finished cleaning up her thigh and then moved her face, just making sure that everything was covered, and cleaned.

2 Months later

Y/n's gash was finally coming together and making a nice scar, the next week when she was finally able to put weight and pressure on her leg. We went to the mall and shopped for some jeans for her, Sam and I "Penelope Jackson" Poor girl she had gotten scammed and now was paying for almost three hundred dollars worth of clothes.

Y/n and I went out to a nice dinner a week after we went shopping, Y/n wore a beautiful rose gold dress with a pendant that was a rose. It lined up very nicely with her cleavage leaving everything and nothing to be imagined about on a later notice. We had dinner at this quiet little Italiana restaurant, Y/n had gotten some red wine, and I got a beer. Of course, sometime later when our waiter came back we both ordered dinner, something along the lines fo me getting a meatloaf and Y/n getting a very good looking chicken alfredo, with a side salad cause she's a health bug-like Sam is.

We talked about hunts we had gone on before coming together and working together, we talked about how we had dreams before being dragged into the huntin' business. We ate talked some more my eyes one in a while leading down her cleavage and down her curves that of course, I could see due to sitting down at a booth. As our waiter came back, he also took a small glance at her. I tried my hardest to try to control my anger, and I am proud of my self. The waiter asked us if we wanted dessert Y/n got a key lime pie slice which is fucking disgusting, but everyone has that thing that is special to them, I on the other hand order a simple Apple pie like any average joe would do when given a choice.

The waiter came back with the check and our plates of dessert and left as quickly as he came.

"He was lookin' at you know,"

I said in a hushed tone.

"I know. But it doesn't matter because I came here with you, not with him. I'm pretty sure people can look just not touch."

Y/n said dropping her fork so she could move her hand over mine calming my nerves and anger down to a comfortable boiling point.

Just has Y/n finished I slide a small box over the table with a card under the little black box.

"Open the card first then you open the box,"

I said with a blush rising in my cheeks.

The card read something like

"Every love story is beautiful... Ours is my favorite one though." I drew a winky face and that was all I wrote in the card. She giggled and looked up at me in confusion when she put the card back in the envelope.

Looking back to me to see if it was okay if she opened the little black box. I shook my head in an up and down motion.

She grabbed it, opening it slowly like it was going to trick her. Her eyes lite up when a blue stoned ring was in front of her. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, but she didn't get it so I spoke up saying

"This is my promise to you Y/n. You know like a promise ring. A promise that I will keep trying my hardest to be understanding, let my anger go, and be there by your side. Never let you get hurt, have kids with you, travel the world with you, and grow old with you. I want nothing more than to promise you those things so I am giving you this ring to say that I, Dean Winchester will always be there for you Y/n y/L/n. I love you and that's a promise too."

She had a few stare tears rollin' down her face, she slides the ring onto her ring finger on her left hand. She got up hugging me deeply. I'd say that I definitely pulled myself out a little bit more out of the huge fuckin' hole I made. I promise her and I won't break it for anything or anyone else.

Tag List- @akshi8278

#supernatural x reader #dean winchester #fem reader #sam winchester #dean x y/n #supernatural fic #i love you

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sopxhiea · 4 years

Text

Acrimony

Alfie Solomons X Reader

| Prompt

“stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me! this is serious!”

The wooden walls were illuminated by the low light put in the corner of the room, it was neither dark or bright but just enough to get some reading done. The flowers were long gone, some of them had been pressed inside a book that was laying around in the office space and some had been simply discarded. The space didn’t smell as nice before, although the vanilla scent coming off of the candle resolved it just by a tad.

It had been a long day, it was barely Friday but she already felt like she needed a week of rest just to get through another day like this. Her feet were bruised, she had been walking around all day and the comfortable shoes weren’t so comfortable anymore, she would throw them away in the morning. That was, if she ever left the office. She had too much to do, it always got busy to a point she felt blurry all the time. Both her head and her vision were out of it today.

She had dealt with three immature men in the morning, getting sexist remarks because of her gender and the fact that she was younger than anyone else in the room. It didn’t bug her, she was used to that kind of treatment but what bothered her was the fact that they talked about her relationship with Alfie. She had worked hard for what she had and she didn’t want anyone saying she got where she is because of a man, she simply hadn’t. She also knew that the word had gotten around after that one time Alfie had taken her to a party and they’d danced, a little too intimate which would confirm the already existing suspicions. And it had certainly done that.

There was a pile of paperwork waiting for her, still undone because she’d been too busy all day and Joe hadn’t gotten around today, he was busy with his girlfriend and Y/N had let him go for the day, which had been a mistake. She leaned back on the comfy chair, trying to pause the moment by taking it all in but she had a headache and finding peace was never an option for her, not when a million thoughts ran through her mind each second of the day.

Out of every million thought she had, half of them were about Alfie. Sometimes she would replay the moments in her head, trying to ease the pressure for the day by knowing he was what she’d come home that night. There were also times where she’d just kiss him a lot that morning, wanting to savour the taste and the warmth he’d provide which would hopefully last a little longer than the last time they’d kissed. She remembered him visiting her office twice everyday for four months, simply because he wanted to see her and also because he would bake something, or buy something or make something for her and she’d welcome him with open arms.

She sighed, not hearing the backdoor open while she typed and wrote and annotated. Her hands were covered in ink and so was her white shirt but her maid was a sorcerer when it came to getting out stains so it’d be fine. There was a content smile on her lips that suddenly arose when she saw Alfie’s face, getting through the door with a loud thud. She shook her head, trying to digest the sight before her while he gave her an apologetic smile.

She wanted to punch him, to make sure he sat home all the time even if it meant that she needed to tie him onto a chair. He had fresh wounds all over his face, his tried eyes were even more blurry than usual. He wasn’t going to cry but he felt anger towards himself for letting it get to that point, it wasn’t supposed to go the way it did and now he had three blade wounds on his body, and in front of the woman he loved.

She sighed, her mouth open in both shock and disappointment. There had been many times when Alfie would come home and pieces and she would have to put him together, many nights where she spent the night waiting for him to fall asleep after he’d gained a fresh wound so that her heart would be at rest. She had begged him to stop doing such dangerous things, she was also in the same line of business but managed to get things done by not killing a couple men so she knew it was possible to do things that way. She wanted him safe and in one piece.

She shook her head but opposed to her usual attitude when she saw him in such a state, she didn’t walk towards him. The last time she had patched him up, she had told him that it’d be the last one where she’d be her usual self when he showed up with deep wounds. It took everything from her, to just stand there and keep her promise to herself, she wanted to hug him and feel his touch and to make sure he was feeling okay, he was her Alfie after all.

“I...” she spoke, finding it hard to form sentences while every place she looked at, there was blood or a scratch. “I don’t-” she said, a low sob coming from her throat that cut her sentence in half.

He had a bleeding wound that could potentially kill him but seeing her cry hurt him much more than a cut in the flesh. He hadn’t intended to get bruised all over, the men who’d done it were dead anyway but he had gotten some serious damage which he knew would upset her but he had forgotten what she had said about cleaning him up last time, she would do it either way, that much he knew but she was now mad and sad because of him. He hated seeing her like this and knowing the reason why was him made the whole thing even worse.

“Luv, I just need a little bit of alcohol on ‘em.” he said, signalling the wounds with his hand while the other held the cane. She laughed in disbelief. “And I’ll be fucking fine..”

She cried when she was angry, she hated the habit of doing so and he knew she was angry by the gathering tears in the corners of her eye. She wanted to throw the chair into his face and punch him until she lost all her power but he was already wounded bad enough. Another part of her wanted to wrap him layers of thick blankets, give him tea and some soup and stay with him till he was feeling his absolute best.

She hated how much she cared for him.

She opened her mouth to speak but words escaped her, he was being stubborn again, acting like he was just alright when he was potentially on his way to see the bright light that night. She shook her head, feeling Alfie’s discomfort while he stood there, standing in front of her but a little more far away than she usually liked him to be. “I can’t fucking see the logic in all this.” she said at last, expressing her disbelief not only with her words but also with her face.

“Look, luv, ‘t was just an inside job, yeah..” he spoke, his voice was becoming hoarser by the second. “..wasn’t supposed to go this way but I’m fucking okay..” he said, smiling at the end of the sentence but the more he talked the more she wanted to throw that chair into his beautiful face.

“Stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me! this is serious!” she shouted, she never shouted at him but he’d deserved it. Her hands pointed towards him, shaking while she cried her anger out with sad eyes. There was fire in her gaze but he knew what was behind the spark, it was sorrow.

“You can’t just...show up here, bleeding your heart out in front of me!” she said, tears flowing down her face, she was so scared for him to the point where her anger didn’t matter so she walked towards him and pulled him down roughly to sit on the big sofa he usually sat.

“I’m fucking sorry, yeah..” he spoke to her when she came back with supplies and bandages to patch him up for the day, her anger was visible still but she needed him to not bleed at the given moment. “I am, pet.” he said when the alcohol met his skin, he didn’t wince because she was always gentle with him.

“Shut up.” she said, cold and loud. She didn’t want to hear any of his sweet words because she knew he’d lure her in. He would make her forgive him in a tiny second if he needed to with the skilled words he’d use and she truly didn’t want to hear him.

She slowly patched up the biggest wound around the side of his ribs, stitched him up skilfully as he watched her with love in his eyes, she was his home. She sighed, looking around his face that was decorated with scratches and cuts. She straddled him with the shake of her head, positioning herself on top of him as their lower bodies met, he grunted in approval while her expression remained a cold one, even with the warmth of his body and the hands that rested on her legs.

“Stop moving.” she ordered while cleaning a cut right above his left brow. His fingers caressed the sides of her thighs while he hummed, nodding his head as to say that he was still there and listening.

The next hour involved her going through every wound, scratch and cut he had and treating them. She was being extremely careful with her touch even though she was super angry. His hands found her body most of the time, sometimes it was her thighs or her hand, he had kissed her cheek more than once was she was busy with his face as to say that he was thankful, not only for cleaning him up but also for being there.

“Okay..” she said, finally separating her body from his and throwing sheets of cotton away, all of them colored with his blood just like her hands. She hated this part of cleaning up. Disappearing into the bathroom around the place, she scraped her hands, washing them more than once to get rid of the red color while tears joined the water running down the sink. She didn’t want to see him this way.

She knew these kind of interactions were usual in the line of business they had, she had no problem with that. The problem, as she saw it, was that sometimes Alfie’s anger would take over and he’d go places he knew were dangerous, places he knew would get him hurt and not just physically. He enjoyed the pain in some parts, he wouldn’t have been doing this in the first place if he didn’t but sometimes, it got too much.

She found him staring at her while she called for her car, gathering her things and waiting for Alfie to feel a little better so that she could help him walk to the car. She sighed, shaking his head as his eyes followed her clothed figure slowly make its way to him. She sat on the floor next to his legs, her hand rested on one of his thigh while his hand found her arm, gently stroking her soft skin while she felt her anger fade. She was his.

“I don’t want to have to put your pieces back together every time this happens, Alfie.” she spoke, lowly and he enjoyed her calm voice, it was his favourite tone of voice when it came to hers.

“I know, luv.” he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head while she shook her head, tears coming back into her eyes again as she found it silly just how scared she was for him. “I’m alright, yeah?” he said, hands coming around her cheeks to make her look up to him. Her eyes refused to meet his even when he was wiping her tears away.

“Yeah..” she nodded, knowing that he would heal soon and probably get himself beaten up again. “But what If you’re not?” she asked, meeting his eyes this time. “What if you can’t make it next time?” she asked the question she was dreading.

There was a pinch of doubt in her eyes, if he would really live but she needed him to. She wanted a life with him, something that would be worth the books she’d read about romance. She wanted to see him age and succeed and she wanted to travel with him, see him in every imaginable scenario just because she knew it would make her fall even harder for him. She wanted to join souls with him, learn everything about him and memorise the creases around his eyes but that would be hard to do if he was in another world.

“I won’t ever leave, yeah?” he said, reassuring the worried soul in front of him. She needed to know what he was thinking. “I won’t leave you no matter what the fuck happens..” he said, lowly into her ear and it made her sigh, she knew this but she got worried.

She nodded, giving him a sad smile. She knew he was right. Alfie was always the one to make it out, he would plan things and usually have a back up plan as well but It was her right to be angry at him for coming all this way with a wounded body, she had told him to be careful. She looked into his eyes, finding comfort and love this time. She sighed and shook her head with a chuckle, she hated to give in but it was Alfie out of everyone.

“I want you around..” she spoke, not looking into his eyes but she could sense the confusion the sentence caused by his body language. “..not only for now or next week but for as long as you’re willing to stay and I do not want to lose you because you had an argument with a gang leader..” she said, looking right into his eyes when her words were out of her mouth.

He could only chuckle at her words, the sound of her voice a mere melody to is ears. He knew he wanted to marry her, he had been carrying the ring in his pocket for the past month but he just needed the moment to be perfect. She was his muse, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he knew she’d say yes, he knew she wanted him around, too but hearing it from his lips made him the happiest man alive.

He leaned in, ignoring the slight pain from his wounds and capturing her lips in his. It was a velvet kiss with small touches from him, caressing her cheek and neck while she melted into his touch. They had their problems but their relationship was the one for the books, maybe not as smooth as she’d planned once she had started dating him but she knew it would be a good life as long as Alfie was there to share it with her.

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freddiesaysalright · 5 years

Text

Dancing With Ben Week 6

A Ben Hardy x Reader Series Trio Night - Salsa

Summary: Reader is one of the pro dancers on Dancing With the Stars. It’s her second season on the show, and this time, her partner is none other than Ben Hardy. Will they win the Mirror Ball? Maybe they’ll win something even more meaningful!

Word Count: 3.8K

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @twigleektribute23, @ionlyhavepicturesofflowers, @asquiresofftime, @caborhapch, @iwasnothingbutacityboy, @a-kind-of-magik, @anxious-diabetic, @royalblueviper, @toms-irish-girl, @doingalrightt, @borhapqueen92, @angiefangirlworld-2, @ziggymay, @pink-lemo, @riddikuluslypotter, @wearewiththebands, @i-was-born-like-this, @prince-lucifer-v, @mariekuuuuuh, @teenwolflover28, @minigranger, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @theprettyfandom If you want to be added, let me know!

A/N: Alright, some serious pining happens in this chapter but *slaps fic* this baby is what we call a slow burn. Also, SPECIAL GUEST JOE MAZZELLO GIVE IT UP!!

Week 1 Week 2 Week 3 Week 4 Week 5

Week 6 here we go!!!

You were in the studio alone. James had gone home the day after the show and you were a little relieved that the pressure was off, even though he and Ben ended up friendly by the time dinner was over. However, because the upcoming week was going to be a little extra challenging, you decided to get to rehearsal early and work out something more of a routine than you had. You were trying out a step when Ben came in.

“Hello!” you greeted brightly, but you frowned when you saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you see what they did on Good Morning America this morning?” he asked.

You shook your head. He pulled out his phone and opened YouTube, pulling up the clip of Gleb and his partner’s interview. Every eliminated couple did a GMA interview after being voted off the show, but you wondered what Gleb’s interview had to do with you and Ben. He skipped toward the end of the video.

“So, Y/N and Ben Hardy,” said the host. “Are they smushing?”

Gleb choked on the sip of water he was taking and looked, astonished, at her.

“Well,” he began. “What they do off the show is none of my business, but as far as I know, Ben and Y/N are just friends. Like all the pros are with their partners.”

“But their chemistry is crazy,” said another host. “Especially that rumba.”

“Like I said,” Gleb continued. “I don’t know, but part of our job is to put on a show. To tell a story. If people believe what they’re saying through their dance, then they’re doing their jobs.”

“Come on, there has to be -” began the first host, but Gleb cut her off.

“Look, we came here to talk about our experience this season,” he said firmly. “Not to gossip about our friends. What they do or don’t do behind closed doors isn’t my business, and it’s certainly nobody else’s.”

You felt a rush of affection for Gleb as Ben stopped the clip.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Ben said. “Should we say something?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not. That’ll only make it worse. The best thing to do is ignore it, and it’ll blow over.”

“I dunno,” he said. “I’d like for people to be talking about the dancing, not our relationship.”

“We can’t control other people,” you told him. “All we can control is how we conduct ourselves.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he conceded.

“I’ve got something I know will cheer you up,” you said, taking his hand and leading him further into the studio.

“Ah, the big surprise,” he returned. “What is it?”

You checked your phone. “It’s gonna be here any second.”

At that moment, the door to the studio opened. You and Ben both turned to watch the newcomer poke his head in. Ben gave a boyish cry of excitement and bounded over to the door as Joe Mazzello came through it.

“Joe!” Ben shouted and barreled into his friend.

Joe beamed and embraced Ben warmly as they fell to the floor in a laughing heap. You couldn’t help but chuckle as well while you watched. They cuddled on the floor and giggled when Ben kissed Joe’s neck.

You turned to the camera. “That is true love right there.”

After a few minutes of them gushing over each other, Ben got up and helped Joe to his feet as well. They were all smiles as Joe came over to you.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, pulling him into a hug. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he replied, kissing you on the cheek. “I’m Joe.”

“I know,” you returned. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“If they’re from Ben, they’re lies,” he joked.

You laughed. “Well, why don’t we start dancing, guys?”

“What are we doing this week?” Ben asked.

“We’ve got a salsa,” you told him. “So get ready to move those hips.”

“I’m so excited,” Ben said, hugging Joe again. “I can’t believe you’re our partner.”

“There was no way I was turning it down,” Joe said. “Although I don’t know if I can keep up with you, man, you’re incredible.”

“Well, I’ve got the best teacher in the world,” Ben replied, smiling at you.

You beamed back and Joe raised his eyebrows as he looked between the two of you.

Rehearsal started smoothly, but most of the first day you worked with Joe to get the basics down. He actually moved really well, and once again you were impressed. The routine you were forming was going to be pretty complex, but you quickly became sure they could handle it. By the end of the first day, you had the basic steps down. You were confident in Joe.

Also, Joe was a ton of fun to work with. He was hilarious, and kept you and Ben laughing all through rehearsal. He would miss a step and quickly blame it on you or Ben, which was always amusing. He and Ben had a great back and forth that often left you in stitches. What was best was that they never made you feel excluded from them. You were part of every joke, every conversation, and they paid close attention to your instructions.

You went to dinner together after rehearsal. When the hostess led you to a table, Joe and Ben sat down. You excused yourself to the restroom, but told Ben to just get you water in case the waitress came by. Joe took this opportunity to catch up with Ben.

“So, man, who knew you were a freaking ballroom dancer?” he teased.

Ben smiled. “Really, it’s all because of Y/N. She is such a great teacher. She taught me to foxtrot. She can do anything.”

Joe gazed seriously at Ben. “So, you’ve got it pretty bad for her, huh?”

Ben’s face flushed. “Don’t tell anyone, but yeah, I sort of have a massive crush on her.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Joe assured him. “But I could tell by the way you look at her. Like she just...hung the moon or something.”

“She is so amazing,” Ben continued. “Like, every time she holds my hand or we sleep in her bed, my heart skips a beat.”

“Sleep in her bed?”

Bed explained the night you were drugged at the bar and the night after watching a scary movie. Joe smiled.

“If it helps, I think she feels the same way,” he said. “It’s the way she looks at you too. There’s...something there.”

“Thanks, mate,” said Ben. “It does help, actually. I don’t really know what to do about it. I mean, this is only a limited time we have together. Then I’m going back to England, and I think she’s gonna go on tour with the rest of the pros from the show.”

“Don’t worry too much about that,” Joe advised. “Enjoy what you’re doing right now, and feel it out some more. It seems to me like she might be worth the distance.”

Ben didn’t have time to answer, as you returned from the bathroom, taking a seat beside him. His arm subconsciously slid around your shoulders. Then the waitress came over and you ordered your dinner.

Within the next two days, you were getting to rehearsing the lifts of the dance. There were a few and you knew they would require a lot of practice. The first was for the opening part of the dance.

“Okay, so you guys are gonna be on either side of me,” you explained. “I’m gonna hold one hand, and with the other you’re each gonna grab the inside of my thigh and flip me backwards.”

Joe moved to start, and you didn’t catch Ben shooting him a warning glare. Joe’s hand landed just above your knee. Ben’s was only slightly higher.

“I appreciate that you’re both gentlemen,” you said, amused. “But you’re gonna have to grab from higher than that.”

You brought their hands up your leg. You missed Joe sending Ben an apologetic look. Carefully, they flipped you, before stepping into the rest of the routine. They did well, so you decided to do the hardest lift of the dance.

“Ben, on this count, you’re going to throw me up over your head, and backwards into Joe’s arms,” you said.

“Jesus,” Ben breathed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I trust you,” you said. You looked at Joe. “Both of you.”

“Do not drop her,” Ben warned Joe.

“I won’t, man,” Joe replied. “Not on purpose anyway.”

You giggled, but Ben frowned.

“Oh c’mon,” you said lightly. “You dropped me once before, remember?”

“So I’m allowed at least one,” Joe joked.

“As long as you don’t drop me on show day, I don’t really care,” you said.

“I do!” Ben protested.

“Okay, let’s just practice,” you said,ignoring him.

You explained the exact mechanics of it. You practiced it once, Ben sending you soaring up. You spread your legs above him and then carefully fell back into Joe, who caught you without a problem.

“Yes!” you cried, beaming at them. “That was great! Let’s do it again!”

You went through it another three times. On the fourth, it faltered. Joe caught you perfectly, but you didn’t close your legs right and you landed on your ankle at a bad angle. You started to go into the next step with Joe but you cried out at a sharp pain.

“Stop!” you said.

“What happened?” Joe wondered, steadying you.

Ben was instantly at your side as you reached out for him. They both held you up as you whimpered.

“I landed wrong,” you said. “I think I rolled my ankle.”

You tried to put some weight on it, but your muscles screamed in protest. You hissed at the pain and Ben turned accusing eyes on Joe.

“What happened?” he demanded. “Did you catch her?!”

“Yes!” Joe insisted.

“It was my fault,” you interjected. “Ben, relax. I just landed wrong. But I think I’m okay.”

There was a nurse from production that they called. She came to the studio, where Ben and Joe lowered you to the floor. They stepped out while she treated you. She gently moved your foot around to gauge the severity of the roll. You winced as she examined you.

“I don’t think it’s sprained or anything,” she said, and she retrieved a wrap and began to bandage it.

“Can I still dance?” you asked.

“Yes, but don’t put too much stress on it,” she said. “Maybe break for a while before trying to start again.”

You nodded.

Meanwhile, outside, Joe and Ben were tense. Ben was pacing. Joe could feel Ben’s irritation.

“Hey,” Joe said. “Can you chill out? I’m not trying to make moves on Y/N, okay? This is just the dance and you’re acting like I’m trying to take your place.”

Ben looked at the floor, ashamed.

“I’m sorry, mate,” he said. “I just - I met her partner from last season and already feel like I’m competing with him.”

“You’re not competing with me, Ben,” Joe reminded him.

Ben nodded stiffly. “You’re sure you didn’t drop her?”

“I’m sure,” Joe said. “She didn’t even know she was hurt until after.”

“Okay.”

They waited outside when the nurse fetched them and told them it was okay to resume rehearsal. They came back and sat down with you. The nurse left, and you thanked her.

“So I’m okay,” you told them. “No sprain. Just a roll. But we’re gonna forget the lifts today and work on the other steps. Tomorrow, we’ll work on the lifts some more.”

You guided them through the rest of rehearsal, and you were able to do a few things in hold but for the most part, you helped them. You didn’t notice that Ben’s brow furrowed whenever you put your hands on Joe’s hips or shoulders to help him move. Joe did, and tried to give Ben a significant look, which Ben accepted. He was trying so hard not to be jealous, but now that he had admitted his feelings, out loud, it was more difficult to disguise them.

When rehearsal was over, Ben helped you home, allowing you to lean on him as you made your way to your apartment. Joe had already gone back to his hotel. Ben opened your door and you looked at him in admiration.

“Ben, you’re practically carrying me,” you said. “You don’t have to do that. I danced today and everything.”

“I don’t want you to stress it any more than you have to,” he insisted.

He assisted you to the couch. You eased yourself down onto the cushions while Ben got you some water. He handed it to you and you thanked him.

“You are incredibly sweet to me,” you said.

He joined you on the couch and you draped your legs over his lap. He placed a warm, soft hand on your wounded ankle. Then he began to gently rub your feet. You hummed and relaxed back, closing your eyes to the comfort of him.

“Tired, darling?” he asked.

You nodded. “You can turn on the TV or something. But I think I’m gonna go to sleep.”

“Well, don’t fall asleep out here,” he said.

He scooped you up and you squeaked with surprise. He carried you to your room and placed you in the bed. You grabbed his hand and pulled him down to join you.

“You wanna have another sleepover?” you offered.

He smiled. “Oh, always.”

You rested on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Joe is so much fun,” you said.

Ben smiled. “He is great, yeah.”

Ben thought about what him and Joe talked about at the restaurant and for the few minutes outside the studio after you’d rolled your ankle. He wasn’t upset that he told Joe his feelings, but now could not remove the idea from his mind. He looked at you as you closed your eyes against him, his gaze trailing down your face, really taking in the details. The feeling of your smooth skin. Your thick hair falling around your shoulders. The sound of your breathing. He wanted desperately to kiss you. But he held back. He knew he had to consider things after Dancing With the Stars.

Your breathing evened out and he knew you were asleep. He ran his finger across your cheeks and down your nose. Your lips were slightly parted as you slumbered against him. He felt his heart rate quicken at the sight of you. He considered that it might be more than a crush he was feeling. The closeness he felt to you was not something that had ever happened to him before. Dancing with you every week made him happier than he knew he could be, and it wasn’t the dancing that made it so. It was you.

As he held you that night, he thought about what it would be like to share every night with you. Then he sighed. The remaining weeks were going to be rough for him.

The next day, your ankle was rested enough to try the lift again. You kept a brace on it just to be safe. You were putting the whole routing together now, and you could almost do an entire run through of it without stopping. Tweaks had to be made, of course, but it was really getting there.

You were currently in hold with Joe.

“One, two, three, four, step, turn, dip me now,” you instructed before he lifted you and spun you into Ben’s waiting arms.

“Very good!” you praised. “Don’t stop moving, Joe, come with us.”

Finally, you made it through the whole routine without stopping. As a reward, you took a water break. You smiled at both of them.

“We’re killing it, guys!” you said. “I was a little worried since we have salsa, but I really think it’s gonna be great. Len might not like it, but everyone else will.”

“Why won’t Len like it?” Joe asked.

“Not a lot of it is in hold,” you explained. “Which he is particular about.”

“Well, so what?” he replied. “It looks cool as fuck.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you said, high fiving him.

You spent the afternoon perfecting it. You only had one more day before dress rehearsal and camera blocking, so you wanted to really get it down. As you wound to a close, Joe got a text from Rami.

“Ben, Rami wants us to come to dinner tonight, what d’you think?” Joe asked.

“Well, what about Y/N?” Ben returned.

“That’s very sweet, Ben, but you don’t have to spend every moment with me,” you assured him. “I mean, we spend every day together. Go have fun with your boys.”

“Are you sure?” Joe wondered. “I don’t think Rami would mind.”

You shook your head. “Go. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Really, really good work today.”

They gathered their things, and Joe gave you a quick hug goodbye. Ben embraced you, then looked hard at your face. You searched his eyes for what he wanted, but you couldn’t quite place it. He leaned forward, as if to kiss you, and you tried to think of how you should react to that, but he hesitated. He instead went with a customary forehead kiss and a squeeze of your hand before telling you goodnight and departing with Joe. You felt your heart pounding in your chest and it wasn’t from rehearsal.

You were pulled from your thoughts when Clark, one of the producers spoke.

“You look really good,” he said.

“Oh, um, thanks,” you said, brow furrowing with confusion. “Everyone says Ben and I look good together, but I don’t really see how we look different from the other couples.”

“Well, you and Ben dance well together,” he clarified. “I just meant you, in general, look good.”

You cocked your head to the side before grabbing your bag and water bottle. “Yeah, uh, thanks again. Have a good night, Clark.”

You clapped him on the arm and left the studio. You glanced back to see him sigh and shake his head. But you didn’t wonder about that just now. All you could think about was that look on Ben’s face before he left. The more you thought about it, the more you were convinced he had wanted to kiss you.

On one hand, you were glad he hadn’t. You didn’t want your first kiss with Ben to be some passing thing after rehearsal. On the other, you wondered why you would consider it your first kiss. Why did you even want to kiss Ben? You’d thought about it the morning after he slept over the first time, but you chalked that up to physical attraction. Now, you were pretty certain you wanted something more. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you slid into the driver’s seat of your car.

“Get a grip,” you told yourself as you turned the key and started the engine.

When you got home, you showered and got into bed. You checked Instagram, looking at everyone’s stories. Sasha and Emma posted their dog, Ruby. Sharna was out with some friends. Witney was snuggled up to her husband. Ben’s story popped up, which was unusual since he didn’t post very much. It was just a simple selfie of him, Rami, and Joe, smiling. Joe was kissing Ben’s cheek. You tapped it and held your thumb down to just look at the photo and focus on Ben’s face. His eyes, even behind a screen, stole the breath out of your lungs.

You groaned, closing your phone and laying back on the bed.

“Get a grip, Y/N!” you scolded yourself again.

But as you settled in, pulling your covers up to your neck, you couldn’t help but miss the weight of Ben’s arm around your waist.

Dress rehearsal went off without a hitch. All the trios looked really good, but you were always impressed with the other pros and their choreography. And then, it was showtime.

You, Ben, and Joe were going last, closing the show again. You were excited, though, because you were certain you had the most exciting dance of the night. Joe didn’t look nervous until right before it was your turn. But he hid it well.

Then, they started your video package, overplaying you rolling your ankle of course. You held Ben and Joe’s hands, helping them to ignore it so they would come in right on the beat. Just as it faded to black, you took your places before you began.

youtube

The dance was so exciting. The crowd surrounded you all as you, Ben, and Joe moved all over the dance floor. The lifts went just right. They both stayed on the beat, and they looked incredible. Joe kept up nicely, and didn’t miss a step.

When it was over, you pulled them in for a group hug. Tom ushered you over to get the judges comments. Carrie Ann adored it and praised Joe for his ability to keep up. Len said exactly what you predicted, that he wished there was more of the dance in hold. Bruno shared Carrie Ann’s sentiments. You then went to the skybox to talk to Erin before receiving your scores.

“So, Y/N, what was it like working with these two handsome guys?” Erin asked.

You chuckled. “They are kinda handsome, aren’t they?” you teased. “Actually, both of them are so great. Joe fit right in with us and picked up on everything really easily.”

“Joe, how did you feel coming in to this?” she asked him.

“Honestly, I was just excited,” he replied. “I’ve never done something like this, and to come in and support my friend was really cool.”

“You didn’t feel like a third wheel?” she pressed, and you resisted a brutal urge to roll your eyes.

Joe shook his head. “No, never. If anyone was a third wheel, it was Y/N,” he laughed. “Ben and I can get really wrapped up in each other.” He cupped Ben’s face. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Everyone laughed. Erin turned to Ben.

“Anything to add, Ben?”

“Not really,” he said. “We did good work, Y/N miraculously didn’t get hurt, and I got to spend time with Joe, so no matter what the scores are, I had a perfect week.”

Luckily, the judges scored you tens again. You jumped into Ben and Joe’s arms and celebrated with them. You were at the top of the leaderboard again, and couldn’t be happier. Even better, you survived elimination without even being in danger.

When the show closed, you went to change, but Ben remained outside to talk to Joe some more. You didn’t ask why, but let them be.

“Thanks, Joe,” Ben said. “For doing this and listening to me be stupid about my feelings.”

“They’re not stupid,” Joe assured him. “Honestly, Ben, if you want my real advice when it comes to Y/N, it’s go for it. I just think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Ben considered this. He already regretted not kissing you before leaving the studio or when you woke up after that first sleepover. How much would he regret it if he left this show without ever taking the chance with you?

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carbonitekisses · 5 years

Text

I’ll Be Coming For Your Love, Okay? (final chapter)

[AN: After season eight I, like many others haha, had massive writer’s block. It’s been a while since I posted (both on AO3 and tumblr). Anyways, I started this story before I had a tumblr so the last chapter of this fic is the only one on here. If a reincarnation/time travel-esque AU interests you, you can read the other five chapters on AO3 :)]

Chapter summary: Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne at the reception desk but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief.

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.

She would laugh to herself but then she see his face. For a second (or two or three...) Sansa's reality shatters before piecing itself back together into a kaleidoscope of bright colors and pure light.

Also on AO3

Bliss, he thinks, this is pure bliss. Her lips upon my lips, her breath mixing with mine. What need do I have for food or water when she is here? When she kisses me like she remembers?

“Let me never wake.”

“You’re not dreaming, love,” Sansa murmurs, and Jon opens his eyes to something he had resigned himself to never again see on her face. Recognition. Love. Joy.

Could it be true or will he wake to find her gone, her side of the bed empty and cold like it has been for the past year? Jon knows he wouldn't be able to survive if she were to leave him again. One time was one time too many. Each day had been filled with duty and routine until Ghost dragged him to the heart tree two days ago. The world seemed to right itself when he saw her laying on the grass before the heart tree. For the first time in a year Jon felt whole again.

“Are you,” Jon tries to swallow past the hope that chokes him, “are you here? Are you here, back with me?” His hands slowly, shaking, reach to hold her face. “Have you come back to me, dear heart?”

”Yes, yes, yes.” With each affirmation she brings herself closer to him, lifting her dress until she’s able to straddle his thighs. His hands carefully wander to rest on her waist. It's a pleasure like no other to simply have her familiar weight atop him. “I was here—I was always here. It was strange. I felt trapped within what I knew to be my own body. And after the vision with the blinding light, somehow, the other presence was gone. And it was only me.

“I don’t know how I am alive, how I am home. All I know—” She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, kissing the scarred fingertips “—is that I am grateful to be with you once more. It's a blessing, it must be.” His hand remains encased in her soft grasp, resting in the space between them. “After all we have lost the gods owe us this much.”

Her gratitude reminds Jon that it is because of him that she ever left the world of the living. It was my own hands that killed her, he pulls his hand away from hers in self-disgust, I killed her.

"If I hadn't plunged Longclaw through your heart... Forgive me, love." Jon shakes his head in anger. He is greedy asking for forgiveness. He is selfish. "Forgive me, forgive me—"

Sansa cuts him off. "No more. You don't need my forgiveness, Jon. If you hadn’t killed me the world of the living would have ceased to exist. Our family and our people would have fallen."

Jon is inclined to disagree. It must show on his face that he is more than willing to argue because Sansa pulls his face to hers and kisses him wildly, leaving him no air with which to voice his disagreement.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Jon," she repeats once more. Her fingers nimbly unclasp the cloak she made for him so many moons ago. They pause and wander to the jerkin where grey fabric peeks out from underneath. A watery sob leaves her as she takes out the favor she had made for him before he left for war. It is almost weightless, so thin and worn it has become. The direwolves and winter roses haven't lost their color and Sansa looks at it in awe. "You kept it... after all this time."

"Everyday. Not once could I bear to keep it anywhere else but near my heart."

And it's true. The square piece of fabric, lovingly stitched with Sansa's own hand, had been a poor replacement of his wife. Nevertheless, it gave him hope. Hope that perhaps the red priestess was right. That some day Sansa would return to him.

And now she's here in his arms.

Warm. Safe. Alive.

He brings his forehead against hers. Shares the air with her. He has been relieved of an emotional weight he has carried ever since he saw her blood paint the snow. "Never leave me again." He kisses her, drowns in the mere fact that she is here. Here, here, here. The next word comes out strangled and heavy. "Please."

Strong, kind, lovely Sansa Stark presses her smiling lips to the corner of his own. "I love you. As long as you love me—"

"Always." In life and in death. In whatever exists in between and beyond.

"Always is a long time."

"Always is not long enough. Not for us."

The truth. A spark. Firelight catches and dances in her hair. Sansa launches forward and takes him. He gives himself willingly. She undoes the lacing of his jerkin while her hips begin to move in a rhythm that leaves Jon completely in surrender. Any and all thoughts of books, visions, and gods of light flee into the night. “Always,” she whispers, she prays. His love, his wife, dips her head to kiss slightly underneath his jawline, whispering a request along her trail of kisses. He hardens underneath her touch. It's been so long, so very long.

“I’ve missed you, husband. I only ask you to love me... Love me, Jon.”

And so he does.

Sansa's eyelids refuse to lift under the weight of sleep. The last vestiges of a dream cling to her memory. Cold, cold snow... a fire... a man... a name. J-Jo—hmm. Joe? Jonas? Joseph? Her motor skills finally succeed in opening her eyes to the world. It definitely started with a “J”. Joel? I definitely wasn't dreaming about Joffrey. I'm sure of that, at least.

The muscles in her neck strain and her bones creak in protest as she makes to stand up from the couch. Disoriented. That's how she is feeling. Unbalanced, too, if her trembling knees are anything to go by. Last night...what happened last night? If it were the weekend she would chalk it up to a hangover but it's Friday morning and she didn't go out last night.

Sansa picks up a book from off the floor. She turns it around to look at the cover. A man and a woman are embracing underneath a heart tree. She vaguely remembers the book. it feels different... even if I can't remember much of it right now. Did she fall asleep trying to read this? Sansa quickly thumbs through ink-filled pages, trying to recollect something, anything, about it.

"Where did—Oh!" Sansa recoils as her mind registers the time being displayed on her watch. She woke up later than usual, having seemingly forgotten to turn on her alarm last night. An hour. She has an hour to shower, change, and get to work. Pressed for time, she puts the book back into its manila envelope and then into her work bag along with her reading glasses.

She'll work out the mystery book once she gets to her office.

Without wasting any more time Sansa absentmindedly starts her favorite playlist on Spotify. Mornings are better with music.

Take on Me by a-ha starts to play.

Sansa groans.

Here we go again.

The morning sun melts the small crumbs of her dream into oblivion until Sansa forgets that she even dreamed at all.

Things are looking up for Sansa Stark after such a rough morning. And if the air feels cleaner, or time itself feels fresher... Well, Sansa won’t be the one to complain. Although, the time constraint did mean she was unable to make herself her usual cup of coffee. That's one thing I will allow myself to complain about.

Still, good-naturedly, Sansa steps into the brownstone building that is Grand Maester Publishing. It feels good to be here—on time!—as she greets the coworkers she passes with a smile and a hello. The elevator ride to the third floor is full of pleasant chatter with Willas, a fellow editor who just learned that a book he worked on will soon be turned into a feature film.

"How exciting!" The elevator door dings open and they step out and into the lobby. "I'm assuming there will be a reissue with cover art relevant to the film?"

"Most likely; I actually have a meeting today with the author." He checks his watch. Behind him, Sansa sees that Jeyne isn't alone at the reception desk. Though she can only see his back she can tell the man is stressed and agitated. Willas speaks and she looks back at him. "I'll let you know how it goes later, yeah?"

"Please do."

Willas walks ahead and Sansa hesitates before following suit. Normally Sansa would stop by and chat for a bit with Jeyne but she doesn't want to interrupt. She's ready to walk by and head straight to her office when Jeyne calls out her name in obvious relief.

Frowning for the first time today, Sansa redirects her route. The man Jeyne had been speaking to turns around to face her so quickly it's almost comical.

She swallows and tears her eyes away from the man and looks at her friend instead. "Hi, Jeyne. Do you need me?"

Seven save me. I know I'm a romantic but fuck I'm being overdramatic. Goosebumps litter her skin. He's not even that good looking. She tries to discreetly look at him once more. She fails; he was already looking at her. Okay, that's a lie. He's handsome. Beautiful, even. But still. Keep it in your pants, Sansa Stark. Sansa flushes and hopes that whatever Jeyne needs her for is resolved quickly.

Jeyne looks apologetically at the stranger. She gets right to the point. "Sansa, do you have the manila envelope that I dropped off at your office yesterday?"

Oh, so she was the one who delivered this to my office. Well, that's one mystery solved.

"Yes, it's in my bag." She takes it out and keeps a firm grip on it; an oddly possessive feeling washes over her. The man beside her slumps in, what she can only describe as, relief when he sees the envelope. Confused by his reaction she asks Jeyne, "Why?"

The grey-eyed man answers instead, speaking for the first time. His voice reminds her of smoke and dark chocolate. "That envelope, it's mine."

Sansa stands there dumbly, speechless. Wait. What?

"I am so sorry for the mixup." Jeyne's hands are twining and twisting around each other. Her friend and coworker is such a gentle and caring person. She loathes causing problems or inconveniences for others. "I thought the envelope was addressed to Sansa. It was an honest mistake, I swear."

Apparently her distress is evident enough that even the owner of the book notices. His face softens, the stress that furrowed his brow dissipates, and he offers Jeyne an awkward, comforting smile, "I'm sorry for worrying you so much." He turns to look at Sansa. "Honestly, it's my fault. If I hadn't been in such a hurry and written Sam's name more legibly this wouldn't have happened."

At this remark, Sansa looks down at the scrawl on the envelope. Hm. Everything after the S is messy. If she scrutinizes the writing she can kind of make out the name. "Sam Tarly? The literary agent? That's who this was meant for?"

"The one and only," he says with a grin that speaks of pride. "I'm to meet with him later to discuss the book."

The book isn't hers. It wasn't meant for her. She has no right to it. And still, it feels wrong to let it go. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But return it she must.

Just then a woman comes up to the receptionist's desk, and Jeyne whispers an apology before turning away from them to attend to the woman. She and the man with the handsome voice move away to let Jeyne work.

Her arm is stiff as she finally hands over the book to its rightful owner.

Their fingers touch briefly and Sansa nearly drops the envelope. Ridiculous. Utterly RIDICULOUS. Be cool, woman! He doesn't seem to notice but the genuinely happy smile he grants her throws her into a tizzy again. Who does this man think he is, affecting her in such a way?

"I'm being all sorts of rude today, I never even introduced myself." He holds out a hand. It hangs, waiting in the space between them. "I'm Jon Snow."

Cautiously, she places her hand in his. She knows it's ludicrous but if she had to describe his touch she would describe it as warm, safe, and alive.

"Nice to meet you, Jon Snow." His name tastes sweet and rich. "I'm Sansa Stark."

He smiles again, "Sansa Stark." She thinks he makes her name sound sweet and rich, too. "A pretty name." He grimaces and his ears turn red. "I didn't mean—uh, I'm sorry. It is a nice name. I just—" He's flustered and it's a new side to him she hasn't seen yet. It's endearing, really. He may look broody and mysterious but it's almost comforting to know this stranger, Jon, can be just as awkward as she is.

She can feel herself blushing but pays it no mind. It's a compliment no one has given her before but Sansa likes it. Her name, an old family name, is pretty and it's time someone said so. The corners of her lips upturn into a pleased smile. "Thank you, Jon Snow."

They stand there for a moment just smiling at each other.

There's something here and maybe it is a bit ridiculous to fancy a connection between them but Sansa feels brave.

What if he's not interested in me in that way? What if he already has a girlfriend? What if— No. I'm done with what-ifs. Put on your big girl pants, Sansa. You have to put yourself out there if you want something in life. And if he's already in a relationship, well, one can never have too many friends.

Sansa shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "You said you had a meeting with Sam?"

He clears his throat and promptly answers, "Aye, some time around one. He's not coming in to work until after lunch hours."

"I know this is quite sudden but would you be free to discuss the book with me beforehand? My schedule is clear today and I'm just really interested in the book and would like to learn more about it. I didn't get a chance to read it last night but there's just something about the book itself that really spoke to me." I'm rambling. Sansa cringes internally. It's true that I'm curious about the novel but out of all the times to word vomit... "You don't have to if you don't want to!"

Jon looks surprised at her request. In the couple seconds it takes him to respond Sansa wishes the ground would swallow her whole. It only gets worse when she notices that Jeyne has been supervising their interaction with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

Surprised he might have been but he answers her with a grin that wrinkles the corner of his grey eyes. "I'd love to."

Jon didn't expect his Friday morning to be like this. Especially not after the anxiety and worry he had felt last night. Nonetheless, he increasingly finds himself grateful for whatever choices or divine power led him here. Here with the increasingly wonderful Sansa Stark.

They've been talking for hours.

She's an editor and has been working with the publishing house for almost five years. Yes, she's from that Stark family but she's not pretentious or snobby at all. That isn't to say that her impeccable manners and obvious upperclass rearing don't intimidate him, if just a little. He's not unaware of the ways of the great houses of Westeros (he may be a bastard but he's a Targaryen bastard) and he can tell there is genuine warmth and interest when she speaks to him.

"I still can't believe you found this at an estate sale and you were practically gifted it by the owner," Sansa's voice is a near whisper and filled with incredulity.

Incredulity has been a latent feeling during their conversation and it all began when they read two names within the book.

They had started off sitting opposite each other at her desk but had quickly transferred to the moderately sized loveseat in her office. It was easier to look over and study the book together this way. It was also easier for Jon to talk to and infatuate himself with the smart redhead sitting next to him.

They're currently reading the last legible section in the book. The writer's husband seems to be on his deathbed and she writes about how she feels her soul will not wait long to be reunited with him once more. Jon has read the book before but he feels as if he is truly reading it for the first time with Sansa, at moments, reading it aloud. He also can't shake the strange feeling that perhaps he had never actually read the book. But that would be unfathomable. Why would he not read a book with words in it?

"Neither can I. If I'm not mistaken this could have been written centuries ago." It's a theory that he has no way to prove (yet) but is uncharacteristically confident in. Sam's expertise will be immeasurable and doubt-breaking. Sansa hands the book back to him, slowly and gently. "Sam's the expert on historical writings so hopefully he'll help me understand just who wrote this. When he worked at the history museum with me he was the one to go to about these sorts of things," Jon fondly remembers how his friend's work docket never seemed to empty. "Even though there were more than ten people in his department."

"I've worked with Sam before—he always finds amazing stories and authors—I'm sure you couldn't find anyone better to help you figure this out." She pauses and uncrosses her legs. "Now, I'm no historian but I am an editor and..." Her eyes land on the book currently being held in his hands. "I think this might be semi-autobiographical. Maybe, quite possibly, written as a diary or a journal. The tone and style is extremely intimate." She hesitates before speaking again and he notices vulnerability bleed into her voice. "The sections that are still legible remind me of how I write in my own."

Years of being extremely socially self-conscious helped him notice how quickly Sansa seemed to regret voicing a personal detail. If he hadn't been looking at her so attentively (she has gorgeous eyes) he wouldn't have noticed it, so adept was she in calming her features. Not wanting to make her feel that her implied trust was misplaced he hummed in gratitude for her professional and personal input. "Huh, that is actually very helpful. It would explain why there seems to be such a lack of details. If this were a diary, written for personal use, it stands to reason the writer wouldn't need to explain things like a commercial writer would." Sansa shows teeth when she smiles. Really smiles. It's warm. He likes it. "Although, it is a bit odd don't you think?"

Coincidence. The word is too small. A word with bigger significance is in order. Fabricated? No, sounds too cold. The editor, with sensibly attractive black heels, blushes and opens her mouth to speak but seems to be in the same predicament as him. Preordained? Now that... sounds almost like destiny. Almost too big.

A crisp, bitingly endearing laugh. "I wasn't sure whether to mention it." It is something Jon has noticed about Sansa. She does not seem to like causing discomfort—be it real or imagined. It is easy to think everyone has this trait. However, Jon's experience with people from all walks of life has proven that to not be the case. "But yes, it's odd. Maybe weird?" She says this like a question they both know the answer to. They do. And Jon laughs. "Okay, definitely weird. I mean, what are the chances that there is both a Sansa and a Jon in the book?"

Almost.

It's probably the strangeness of the situation that made them avoid call the writer by her name. Or to call the husband by his. Because if Jon's theory, and Sansa's hunch, are proven right then that means there existed a Sansa and Jon before them. A Sansa and Jon whose love and life filled countless pages with words handwritten by a woman who thought them worthy of ink and time. Though many of the words have faded or been damaged they still tug at his heart. And Jon would bet it does the same for Sansa.

I feel bubbly, Jon thinks. Bubbly like the feeling of a fizzy drink in his mouth. Like an adventure about to start. Like a newly discovered military artifact that he can't wait to analyze and date. To be frank, Jon has never described anything as bubbly. Yet something about Sansa makes him think it the most appropriate. As a true pessimist, doubt and caution in the name of self-preservation make him lean back a bit from her. He hadn't noticed how close they had gotten. Way to over-exaggerate a moment, bud. She could be in a relationship for all I know.

His pocket vibrates. Sansa had pulled away as well and briefly glances down to the source of the noise. "I take it that's Sam?"

"Probably." Jon pulls his phone out. "Aye, it's him. Says he just arrived at his office."

It's time for him to leave. Sam is here in the building and he should leave before he gets too invested in what could only stay as a pleasant meeting between strangers.

He gets up and picks up his jacket. The book weighs heavy in his hand.

Sansa stands up and smooths down her skirt as she does so. He hadn't noticed but the skirt has pockets that she now puts her hands into. "Tell him I say hello. It's been a while since we bumped into each other." She tucks her hair behind her earring studded ear. "Feel free to let me know what ends up happening with the book."

Is this...hm. If Jon weren't so jaded by the punches of life he would interpret this as an opening to ask for her number. He wants to but a pit of fear gurgles inside him. Rejection. Better to keep my heart safe. Sansa seems like the kind of woman that would ruin him for any other. In all the best worst ways possible.

"Will do." I won't. "It was a true pleasure meeting and spending time with you, Sansa Stark." Was that too formal? Yeah, it was. Goddammit.

"The pleasure was all mine, Jon Snow."

They shake hands one last time and Jon leaves.

Shit.

He immediately walks right back into the warmth of her sunlit office.

It's worth taking a risk. A little bit of optimism never hurt anyone. Sansa hadn't moved but her head snaps up at the sound of his entrance. She's surprised and he's clearly caught her unaware. Her lips part and she takes a step back, bumping into the armrest of the loveseat. Okay, too late to back out now.

"I just realized we didn't exchange business cards." He tries to act cool but is hindered by the struggle of digging through his wallet for a card. "Here, it has both my cell and work numbers. And email." She can read, idiot. Way to point out the obvious.

Sansa takes it. She studies it for a bit and Jon knows he visibly relaxes when she meets his eyes with a smile. She turns on her heels and grabs her own card from a clear business card holder sitting on the edge of her desk.

"Here. Mine also has both my cell and work numbers." Her eyes are glittering with what he can confidently describe as mischief. "And email."

The card design is elegant and sleek. And sure enough her cell number is on there.

"Thanks. I'll.. text you, after I meet with Sam." Might as well go all the way. "Or if you're free after work we could go get coffee? A drink? Let you know what Sam could figure out."

"I'd like that!" She uncrosses her arms and stands leans her weight to the left. "And, yes, I'm free tonight."

"Well, guess I'll see you later, Sansa Stark."

"Sansa." She rolls her eyes, minutely, in good humor. "Just Sansa."

"I'll see you later, Sansa."

"See you later, Jon."

Jon waves at her and leaves; he's kept Sam waiting long enough. He's practically jogging to Sam's office. People are moving out of the way and giving him odd looks. It's probably because he's grinning so wide he must look manic. Jon doesn't know what the future may bring but he knows that Sansa is someone worth knowing and learning more of. Simply stated, he likes her. Something about her calls out to him. It's beyond physical attraction. It's... it's something he caught glimpses of when she smiled, when she fidgeted with the ring on her middle finger, when her hair reflected the sunlight coming in from her large office window.

Jon doesn't even have both feet in Sam's office before his friend says, "What happened? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing." It's an obvious lie. His lips stretch more and it hurts. But he can't stop smiling. "Ready to solve this mystery?"

#season eight of GoT really did a number on me lol #jonsa #jonsa fic #jonsafic #myfic #actually jonsa #i'll be coming for your love okay?

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benhardyisdaddy · 5 years

Text

Howl - Part 4

MASTERLIST

(hope this doesnt seem boring to u guys, but its about to get good so like im excited??? also this pic reminds me of a moody cute boyfriend vibe so i used it lol anyways ily all and i hope u like it BYEEE)

Word Count: 2,053

Bright lights. Loud voices. A man yelling. You slowly blink a few times and adjust your eyes to your surroundings. You look around and focus your eyes on the tiny white room around you. You’re hooked up to an IV as you lie on a hospital bed. Well that was a clear sign of where you are at the moment. You attempt to sit up and a slight pain from your leg shoots up. You hiss and lean back instantly. A nurse rushes into your room and hurries to you. She smiles and messes with something on your IV.

“Miss y/l/n, do you know where you are?” she asks slowly. You instantly nod to her.

“I’m in the hospital.” you whisper, having to clear your throat. The nurse smiles and nods.

“Perfect! And do you know what happened to you?” she asks again, grabbing a clipboard near the end of your bed on a tiny table. The memories of what had happened floods your mind. Something had slammed into the back of your car. You were in shock as you got out. You remember looking down at your leg and seeing a huge piece of glass sticking out. Then you remember seeing black.

“Yes, the accident. The glass in my leg.” you say, moving your leg just a bit. You feel pain again, but not as bad.The nurse writes something down as she walks closer to you.

“Yes, you were in an accident. And as for the glass, it missed your major artery by just an inch. You’re very lucky to be alive. You just needed a few stitches and it’s all wrapped up now. The hospital will provide you with the crutches.” she says. You look up and frown.

“I’ll need crutches?” you ask, bummed. She sweetly smiles and nods.

“Unless if you want to be in pain every time you take a step.” Your frown drops and you smile back as you shake your head no. She smiles and nods. “The doctor will be in here very shortly to talk to you. All your tests came back fine, so you shouldn’t be here any much longer.” she says. As she goes to reach for the handle, there’s a loud knock at the door. She turns to open it up half expecting the doctor, but it’s not. It’s Ben. He looks up and his eyes are instantly on you. He looks nervous and his face is flushed. You sit up straight and are utterly confused.

“Ben?” you ask as he quickly walks in. The nurse watches him for a second, then shuts the door behind her. He walks up and half smiles, looking you up and down.

“Are you alright?” he asks fast. You raise a brow and lift the covers off of your legs, revealing the large gauze wrapped around your thigh. A tiny bit of blood is stained over where you assume your stitches are. He tenses his jaw and looks up to you.

“Why are you even here?” you ask, still not understanding. “I’d expect Joe or Gwil to be here, not… You. And what happened to your arm?” you ask. He had his arm hung in a sling. He looks down quickly and shrugs.

“Touch football. Rami got a little too handsy. Messed up my shoulder.” he says, staring down at his arm still. He looks back up and shakes his head. “But that doesn’t matter. Are you okay? What did the nurse say?”

“She said my tests came back fine. I had a piece of glass in my leg that apparently barely missed an artery. I’m lucky to be alive.” you say, smiling to yourself. Ben tenses his jaw and looks back down to your leg.

“That stupid fucking truck driver.” he whispers to himself. You look up and cock your head at him.

“What? How did you know it was a truck driver? And how did you know I was even here?” you ask. He looks up fast and his eyes slightly open wide. He clears his throat and shrugs once more.

“Oh, um, the nurse had told me what happened. The truck driver slammed into the back of your car. Right? Did they not tell you?” he asks. You shake your head no and attempt to sit up more.

“No. They hadn’t told me any of that yet and you still haven’t answered my question.” you say, squinting your eyes. He looks to you and sniffles.

“Joe got a call from here, but he couldn’t be here fast enough, so he, uh, you know, called me.” he says, shifting his feet.

“Is Joe going to be here?” you ask. Ben nods and pulls up a chair to place it next to your bed.

“He’s on his way.” he says as he sits down and stares at you. You look away and play with the hem on your hospital gown. Your head starts to suddenly swarm and a feeling of loopiness comes over you. You close your eyes and lean your head back. You felt almost high.

“I feel… Weird.” you say, half giggling to yourself. Ben watches and looks up to your IV bag. He laughs.

“Probably because they’re giving you a high fun dose of morphine. Probably for your leg pain.” You lean your head up and look at him.

“I’m on morphine?” you ask, now frowning. “I’ve never been on morphine in my life.” Ben watches you and smiles.

“First time for everything, right?” he asks, winking. You catch yourself giggling again and lay your head back once more. You allow the lightheadedness to over take you as you just listen to the sounds all around you. And one of those sounds being a man in another room yelling about something you couldn't quite make out. You tried listening, but failed. You felt Ben’s eyes staring at you, but you didn’t dare look up. It felt like forever when your eyes were closed. Finally there was another knock at your door and it was suddenly opening up, giving you no time to object. In walks Joe as he looks around nervously. He spots you and rushes over. He pats Ben on the shoulder as he gently leans down to hug you.

“Oh my god.” he whispers. “I got a call that you were in an accident and I just started panicking. I’m so happy you’re okay.” he says, cupping your face. He kisses you on the forehead and steps back just as your door slowly opens up once more.

“Knock knock.” says a man as as he walks in. He has on a white coat and you instantly know he must be your doctor. You smile and feel your head swarm.

“So, how are we feeling?” he asks. Ben looks to you and laughs.

“High.” he says, watching as you have trouble holding your head up. The doctor laughs as he walks over to your IV machine. He adjusts the buttons and walks away.

“There,” he says. “I think that’ll do. The pain still bothering you?” he asks slowly. You shake your head no. “Alright, good. So, I went over your tests again and everything is still clear. All we’re worried about at this point is the wound on your leg. You know, infection and such. It’s cleaned out and stitched, so just watch it in case if it starts turning an angry red or pussing. If you notice any of that, you need to come back here ASAP, okay?” he asks.

“Okay.” says Joe, answering for you. You look up to him and lazily smile. The doctor walks over to a tiny closet in the room and types in a code on the door. It opens up and he grabs out a pair of crutches. He leans them against your bed and grabs another clipboard beside you.

“I just need you to sign right here and you’re officially all set to leave.” You grab the pen and quickly scribble your name, ignoring the horrible attempt. The doctor hands you a pain prescription for your leg. “Check in with your primary doctor in about a week and a half, okay? They’ll be able to release you from the crutches. Just remember, if it starts looking bad, don’t hesitate to come it. Got it?” he asks, smiling. You smile back and nod your head. The doctor slips out of the room as Joe helps you stand up. Ben walks around and gathers your clothes. You sit on the edge of the bed as he hands them to you.

“I need to get dressed.” you slur. Joe quickly looks to Ben as he slightly nods his head, now knowing what to do.

“Here,” says Ben, holding up the bed sheet. “I’ll block while you hand her what she needs.” Joe nods as he quickly helps you untie your gown and walks away. You’re covered up as you slip it off and hurriedly put on your shirt. The hospital had provided you with baggy, hospital pants so they don’t rub on your wound. You lean down and slide the pants over your legs and hike them up. You look up and Ben’s eyes are glued to yours. Something about the way he stares at you gives you this deep dark feeling in your stomach. You swallow hard and quickly look to Joe. He looks from Ben to you and smiles.

“Okay, I’m done.” you say. Ben tosses the blanket to the side as Joe slips on your shoes. He reaches over and grabs your crutches for you. You hold onto them as you stand up, a dull pain in your leg. You wince a bit as you place them under your arms. You lean forward and take a step. Your legs go wobbly as you fall down, but not before Ben swoops in and catches you. His arm is sternly behind your back as you hold onto his neck. You look up to him as you gasp.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can’t speak so all you do is nod yes. He helps you back to your feet as Joe hands you back your crutches.

“How about we get you a wheelchair?” he asks, watching you all worried. He was definitely like your older protective brother. You shake your head no quickly and place them back under your arms.

“No, no I got this. I’m fine.” You attempt to walk once more and it comes more naturally this time. You walk towards and out the door. You slowly pass by a room as Ben stands close to you, fearing that you might fall again. You’re looking forward as an older man begins to shout at you.

“You!” he yells, standing up from his bed, pointing. He’s short and has a trucker hat on, his eyes are wide. You look over as Ben stands in front of you protectively. He stands up tall and gives the man a threatening eye.

“They think I hit you! I didn’t! Didn’t you see it? The giant thing that slammed into you!? It wasn’t me! I was on the other side! It pushed you out of my way! That creature! Didn’t you see it!?” he yells at you with pleading eyes. You stare at him wide eyed and don’t know what he’s talking about. You shake your head, not knowing what to say.

“You need to step away from her.” says Ben as he places his hand on the man’s chest, not allowing him to come any closer. The guy doesn’t seem to care, he’s too focused on you.

“It was a monster that hit you! They think I’m crazy! Look at my semi! There’s no mark! I didn’t hit you! It did! I saw it!” he continues shouting as a few police officers rush in. They order him to sit down, but he just needs to tell you what happened. He continues yelling as Joe places his hand on your lower back, motioning you to continue walking. You couldn’t look away from this man as he called out for you. There was something in his eyes that made you confused. He keeps yelling that he didn’t hit you and something deep inside of you tells you that he’s telling the truth. And you almost believe him.

Tag List: @loudxxstar @iambuckyrogers @peter-parkersbb @seven-seas-of-hi @ramimalekrp-roleplayerpage@mautand @rogertayolr @mothermercuryy @basics-andthesimplelife @caterinaborgia@discodeakyjazzyjoe @bethany-cc @onexlittlespark @ohmystaxk @secretsweetscollectionblog @that-fandom-sucks-tho @thewinchesterchronicles@iambuckyrogers @idontbelievethiss

#howl #part 4 #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #benhardy #benxreader #benhardyxreader #benhardyxy/n #joe mazzello #benhardyisdaddy #benhardy!#fic #series #werewolf #angst

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amartiniplease · 5 years

Text

Joseph Liebgott x Reader

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”

A/N: Still writing from the same prompt list. I just wanted to thank anyone who read my last two fics and left a like. It means the world to me!

Also if you would like to see me write about anyone in particular just let me know. Right now I’m just writing about whoever I feel inspired by (Joe Liebgott might also be my favorite so there’s a chance there’ll be an abundance of fics starring him if no one tells me otherwise.).

Synopsis: Joe gets a little affected after a battle. You make sure he gets his wound checked out and follow the doctors order to get some rest after.

Disclaimer: This work is based on the characters as they are portrayed in the HBO series Band of Brothers and is by no means meant as an offense to any of the real men that it was based on.

“Drop a prisoner, the rest'll jump you.” Winters shot Joe a stern look. “l want all prisoners alive.”

“Yes, sir.”

Joe was practically fuming when he turned away from Winters to take the German prisoners back to base. The bandage around his neck was messily tied and he was beginning to bleed through it. Y/N knew that this got to him, the total slaughter of the German soldiers, but he was trying hard to shape it into hate instead of coming to terms with any, more complicated, emotions.

When she saw him back in the village they were currently being accommodated in, he looked even more worse for wear. He had yet to get his wound fixed up, he had dirt caked all over his face and his anger was still seething.

That impossible man Y/N though, torn between the urge to throttle him and hug him. Instead of walking to the houses where the medics had set base like she expected him to, he walked towards a little set up of a table and two chairs that was stood on a grass patch in between two houses. Her gaze softened when she took in the way he slumped down, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He was tired, she knew. She had heard him whisper it to her when they were on the brisk of sleep and he finally allowed himself to be vulnerable.

Y/n sat down in the chair opposite from him. She was careful to stay silent and passive as she knew any wrong move would make him lash out. It hurt her that he felt the need to put on this facade all the time. But if she hinted at a vulnerability without him being ready to discuss it those walls would come up faster than a speeding bullet.

After a minute or two in silence he looked up at her. Joseph Liebgott knew he looked rough. He really should go get that wound fixed up but right now he felt that sitting on this chair and talking to his girl was all he could manage.

Even though he thought he didn't deserve to he reached across the table to grab her hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Y/n repeated softly, squeezing his hand a little. “What's going on?”

She had settled for a question that would allow him to take this conversation whichever way he wanted to.

“Just talking to a beautiful girl.” He gave her a shadow of a smile.

Shaking her head, she laughed softly. “Yeah, yeah, I knew that part already.” She matched her words with a wink.

“My neck hurts like fuck.” Joe brought his hand up to touch the covered wound with a wince.

This time Y/N raised an eyebrow. She grabbed for the hand he moved to touch the wound. “Stop touching it, or you’ll make it worse.”

This was easier somehow, pretending to flirt and playfully scold each other. Y/n wished that she could have known him elsewhere, to have seen him engulfed by a Flash Gordon comic or behind the wheel of his cab. Though she knew it didn’t matter much the where so long as she just got to know him.

“Sorry,” He muttered, putting on a ridiculous pout.

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.” Y/n refused to give into his antics, for all the pretence otherwise, she was worried. It wasn’t that bad a wound but leaving it untreated could be risking an infection.

“But Y/n.” He whined making a point of exaggeration his pout once again.

Despite herself Y/n couldn’t help but smile a little. “No buts, come along now.” She stood up, still holding onto his hand. “I’ll even stay the whole time if they let me.”

Still grumbling under his breath Joe stood up letting her lead him towards the medic center. Doc noticed them as soon as they walked in, approaching them with a serious look on his face.

“Oh oh, you made him grouchy.” Y/n had time to whisper before he reached them.

“Y/n.” Doc nodded to her before turning his attention to Lieb. “Were you just planning on letting that wound fester or are you just arrogant enough to think you are too tough to need medical attention?”

Y/n had to stifle a giggle because she had always thought Doc Roe kind reminded her of an angry kitten when he got like this.

Fortunately Joe knew better than to argue in that moment, he just hung his head a little which was the common reaction when receiving a scolding from Eugene. There was just something about him, when he got upset with you, you knew it was justified.

“Sorry Doc.”

They moved further into the room, Doc making Joe sit down. Y/n ended up lingering a little way away unsure of what to do.

“You can sit too, if you want” Eugene was focused on the wound now so he spoke without looking up just gesturing to the empty space on what was serving as a gurney.

Y/n sat down, one hand resting, palm up, on her right thigh, the one closest to Joe. Giving him the opportunity to grab it if he wanted to. As Doc turned away to prepare a needle she felt a rough hand encompass hers and let a tiny smile show on her face, especially when Joe kept holding on even when Roe turned back to start stitching him up.

After he’d gotten fixed up they headed towards the house they had been assigned to.

“So do I get any sympathy now?” Joe asked suggestively smirking at her.

Laughing, Y/n shoved at his arm. “Shut up.” But she was smiling. He looked better now.

Then he surprised her by stretching out his hand for her. He must have noticed the startled look on her face because he faltered a little beginning to take his hand back. Quickly she grabbed him, smiling brightly to him. Most of the time they tried to remain professional, war really wasn’t the time to begin this, whatever it was. They just stayed close and Y/n continued to care about him so much that it physically hurt. The aspects of a relationship that they were both starved of would have to wait, kissing him would have to wait. This was why he was so reluctant to show affection in public, if anyone interpreted it in the wrong way it would only mean trouble for them both.

The room was surprisingly empty of people, it had three sets of bunk beds and was really too narrow for six full grown men too share. That was probably why they had assigned her to this room, an attempt to save space. Joe laid down on one of the bottom bunks, shuffling a little to get comfortable. Y/n was left standing wondering if it would be okay if she lay with him.

“Joe,” She bit her lip, she didn’t know how to ask. “can I? Would it be okay if I?” Faltering she looked away.

“Come here sweetheart.” He stretched out to show her where he wanted her to curl up to him.

She let out a relieved sigh, before getting in next to him. Pressing closer she closed her eyes, feeling a rush of happiness flow through her. She could take in his scent, blood and sweat and earth. And she wanted to cry because this moment was so precious. There was no way of knowing how long it’d be until they would get to do this again.

#band of brothers #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfiction #joseph liebgott imagine #joseph liebgott

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bee-kathony · 6 years

Photo

Fraser Memorial | Ch. 4 “Two Pink Lines”

Thank you @sassenachwaffles for being my beta for this chapter!

Ch. 1 - Sutures | Ch. 2 - Maybe This Time | Ch. 3 - Movie Date

2015

Staring down at my watch, I realized that Joe Abernathy would be well out of surgery and should be resting. A few months ago, this man had arrived by ambulance in the middle of the night with his wife Gail. Joe had endured a heart attack and was then rushed into an emergency coronary bypass surgery. I had been one of the residents on call that night and had assisted in his surgery.

Joe was a funny man, he and his wife had moved to Edinburgh from Boston only three years ago. He also wasn’t an old man, which is why his heart failure was such a major concern. I walked down the hallway, responding to a recent text from Jamie asking me what my favorite flower was.

I stood in the doorway of Joe’s room, a smile across my lips when Joe cleared his throat, making me jump. “Lady Jane, who’s making you smile so big?”

“Oh no one,” I winked and walked to the side of his bed, “You wouldn’t want to here about it.”

“Try me,” he smiled. Even after his second open heart surgery, Joe was no less curious and witty.

I took a seat at the end of the bed near his feet, “His name is Jamie Fraser… I met him a little more than a month ago.” I couldn’t help it as my face blushed red.

“Fraser…” Joe mused, “Fraser, as in the name of this hospital?” He shot his eyebrows up in surprise as my eyes grew big. “My my, Lady J, you’ve caught a big fish.”

“Indeed,” I smiled, nervously tapping my finger on my thigh, “We’ve gone on one date, and he’s already asked me out for another.”

“Are you smitten with this man?” Joe asked.

I thought about it for a moment. Was I smitten with Jamie? He was definitely all I had thought about over this last month. I had re-lived our movie date over and over in my head, especially that kiss.

“I suppose that’s the correct word for it,” my cheeks blushed a deep shade of red and I felt the heat creep up my neck.

“Well if it goes any further, LJ, I’m gonna have to meet this young man who seems to have stolen your heart. You’ve helped save mine a time or two, it’s only fair.” He grinned. Cheeky man.

“Alright, sounds like a plan. You rest up okay Joe? I’ll be back after my rounds in a few hours.” I gave his foot a gentle pat, and left his room to continue my rounds.

As I turned down the hallway, my pager buzzed, alerting me to come to the emergency room. Christ, I hope it wasn’t something horrible.

The flame of red curls caught me off guard as I ran into the E.R. “Jamie?” I asked and walked over to him and a young boy sitting in a wheelchair. “What’s wrong?”

“Och, Sassenach.” He smiled and then followed my gaze down to the young boy. “Oh this is my nephew… also named Jamie. My sister and her husband are away for the weekend and it seems the lad has come down with the chicken pox.” Jamie clenched his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Chicken pox, aye?” I said, crouching down to be eye level with the young Jamie. He looked up at me with watery eyes, no doubt in a bit of pain from all the itchiness and red bumps.

“It itches somethin’ fierce miss,” the young lad complained, reaching to scratch as the red marks on his arms. I grabbed his wrist and held it away from his body.

“I’m afraid that has to stop, lad. No more scratching, do you understand? It will only make it worse.” I gave him a sympathetic smile.

I was able to prescribe young Jamie Acyclovir, an antiviral medication to help with the chicken pox, but the rest of the work was up to the older Jamie.

“You must gently rub some calamine lotion on the little red spots, and maybe tape some over mitts around his hands,” I added as I took a glance once again at the young lad.

“Of course Jenny had to go away,” Jamie smirked, “She’ll think this was my own fault!”

“He most likely caught it from someone in his school, you couldn’t have done anything about it,” I reassured him, laying my hand on his shoulder. I felt him tense a bit, but then relax as he met my eye.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. Seems my family are in debt to ye for always fixin’ our pains.” Jamie smiled, letting his hand brush against mine. I wanted to kiss him right then, but thought better of it, not wanting to appear unprofessional at my job.

“It’s your hospital after all, what better way to see if it’s in good working order than to come in with a few scrapes and bruises,” I laughed.

“’Tis no’ mine, ye ken that well enough, Claire,” He smiled gently. “But aye, yer right. Seems we’ve employed the right kind of people here too.” Jamie bent his head and placed a soft kiss against my cheek.

“Jamie…” I blushed, looking around the room to see if anyone caught that.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. As owner’s son, I can kiss whoever I want.” Jamie smirked.

I stepped in closer to him, “I want to kiss you… very badly, but I don’t want our relationship to appear as favoritism to my co-workers.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows, “A relationship is it? I wasna aware.”

I hit him playfully on the arm, “Oh stop, you bloody scot!” Laughing, I saw Geillis standing by the nurses station and saw her wink before I looked back up at Jamie.

“Speaking of, my family is having a big dinner this weekend, and I was wonderin’ if ye would like to come?”

“To meet your family?” I asked, “Isn’t it a bit soon?”

“Och, there’s no rulebook, Sassenach. I would verra much like for them to meet the angel who stitched me up. Only if ye want to that is…” He looked at me with hopeful blue eyes.

Jamie had come out of nowhere. I wasn’t exactly looking for a serious relationship, especially after Frank and all that mess, but here he was. He nudged my side with his elbow and I smiled, “Sure. It would be really nice to meet your family.” I admitted, and it would be very pleasant, until the knot in my stomach reminded me exactly who I would be meeting. “Oh Christ…” I gasped.

“What?” He asked, concerned.

“I only just realized that I’ll be meeting your father, my boss.” I laughed then, and took a deep breath. “I better make a good impression if I want to keep my job.”

“Ye’ll be grand, Sassenach. How could they no’ love ye?” Jamie grinned.

He gave me a warm hug before leaving with young Jamie, who was struggling to keep his fingers from scratching his chicken pox. This was the third time that Jamie had come into the hospital leaving me completely breathless.

Present Day

I put the small stick on the bathroom counter and started pacing back and forth. Three minutes — that’s how long the pregnancy test said to wait.

“Bloody easy for you to say,” I said to absolutely no one. I must be pregnant if I was talking to myself now.

This was the first home test I had done since my missed period two weeks ago, and while I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I badly wanted it to be positive. I was done with the hopeful expectations and the eventual disappointment that followed. Jamie was strong, as he always was, but I could tell that with each negative response, his heart broke a little each time.

“Sassenach?” Jamie knocked softly on the bathroom door, “Are ye alright in there?”

I had come home from work with a plastic bag and declared that I was going to lock myself in the bathroom to take the test. It took him all of two seconds to follow me, but I didn’t allow him in. This time I needed to be alone, my nerves were on the fringe.

“Yes,” I sighed. “It should be another minute.”

Another light knock, “Will ye please let me in? Ye’re done peeing on the wee stick.”

Looking in the mirror, I brushed back a few loose curls, took a deep breath and opened the door to let him in. Immediately he rushed to the counter to look at the stick. “It doesna have anythin’ on it, Claire.”

“I told you it was another minute, I’ve set a timer on my phone,” I huffed, placing my hands on my hips. While pregnancy was usually supposed to bring joy and happiness to a marriage… the constant rollercoaster of emotions that went with trying to become pregnant was a strain on ours.

“Then we’ll wait another minute,” Jamie said, setting the stick back down and crossing his arms over his chest. Neither one of us moved or spoke while the timer on my phone counter down.

At last, a repetitive beep echoed from my phone and I walked over to Jamie, grabbing my phone and shutting it off. I reached for the stick, but held it out to Jamie. “You look this time, I can’t.”

He took it from my hand, and I stared down at my feet, waiting for the results. I felt a tiny flutter in the pit of my stomach, and instinctively I moved my hand across my belly.

“What does two wee pink lines mean, Sassenach?” Jamie said, staring at the stick with squinted eyes.

“There’s two lines? Are you sure?” I gasped, and took the stick out of his hands. I saw for myself, the two pink lines. It had always been just the one line, the single line that meant I was not pregnant. Never two lines.

To reassure myself, I grabbed the box from the counter, reading and re-reading how to determine the results. “Two pink lines appear in the Easy Read Result Window. This result shows that the pregnancy hormone was detected. Please see your healthcare professional to confirm this result.” I set the box gently down and looked up at Jamie with tears in my eyes.

“Sassenach… we’re pregnant aye?” He smiled, tears brimming to the surface of his own blue eyes.

I nodded, hardly believing it, “Well, yes I rather think we are!” At that, Jamie picked me up with his arms around my waist and lifted me into the air, hugging me as tightly as he could. All of a sudden, he set me back down on my feet and then pushed me away from his body.

“I dinna want to crush the bairn,” he smiled, rubbing his hand over my belly.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his protective side, “It’s alright Jamie, the baby is very tiny, you won’t hurt her.”

“Her? Christ, a wee lassie.” Jamie grinned.

“Of course, I’ll need to set up an appointment to confirm the pregnancy, but I’ve never had a test read like this before.” Smiling, I leaned up on my tiptoes and placed a firm kiss on Jamie’s lips. “We’ve got a bun in the oven, Mr. Fraser.”

“A wee loaf,” Jamie chuckled.

“Excuse me, our baby is not a loaf.” I laughed with him, and then sighed. “A baby… our baby Jamie, can you believe it?”

“I canna believe it, Sassenach. After months and months of trying, ’tis the best feeling I’ve ever had in my life!” Jamie smiled, then deciding that he would not in fact hurt the baby, he lifted me up in his arms, and carried me over to the bed.

“I ken ye’re wi’ child, but this doesna mean we have to stop havin’ sex right? Because I verra much want ye, Claire.” Jamie laid me down and I spread myself out on the bed.

Reaching up, I pushed the few red curls off his forehead, “No, we don’t have to stop.” I opened my arms for him and welcomed Jamie to my body. Soon, I would be able to feel the swell of my belly and the little kicks from within. And then I would be able to hold our child in my arms, a promise of our love come to life.

#fraser memorial #jamie x claire #Joe abernathy #young jamie #mclairefras #chapter 4 #two pink lines #jamie fraser #Claire fraser #outlander #outlander fanfic

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areyouscarletcold · 6 years

Note

If you're still taking prompts, #81 for Coldflash? :D

I still am!

81. “Hold still.”

The wet cloth against his forehead soothed the dull ache, now a faint red from the blood it soaked up. Len remained quiet as Barry pressed lightly, the cloth brushing his widow’s peak as he watched Barry frown. The worst of his injuries had already been attended to, and the blood had thankfully dried by now, crusting over on his knuckles and forehead. Barry had insisted on removing the excess, however.

Len didn’t have any fight in him at the moment.

Granted, he knew he ought to have said something before he ran out two hours prior, should have woken Barry or murmured a quick goodbye. He knew it hadn’t been fair to run off at the first sign of danger, his heart in his throat as he’d struggled into his clothes, unable to hang up on Mick. Hell, he’d lectured Barry more than once on the danger of leaping recklessly into unknown situations. Too many instances of sitting at his bedside in S.T.A.R. Labs had cemented that routine for him.

Len could still hear the urgency in Mick’s voice even now: the careful evenness to his tone, the initial pause when he’d asked what was wrong and what the hell was so important that he needed to be woken at -

“Hold still,” Barry murmured, the low sound jerking him from his thoughts. He must have twitched back as Barry cleaned the cut.

He didn’t meet Barry’s gaze, shifting forward on his spot at the edge of the couch so he could continue to dab.

Barry was always gentle, so gentle whenever he got hurt on a heist or a team-up (which he still liked to tease Len about, though both knew it was all in good fun). He would get angry when Len took unnecessary hits for him, yes, but he always softened in the aftermath after the adrenaline faded and the pair were left alone.

Len had never seen Barry truly angry until he’d flashed into the warehouse not an hour ago.

Barry set aside the cloth, flashing to the bathroom to leave it to soak in the sink before returning in less than a second. He pulled out the package of Band-Aids, his brow creased into a firm line as he began to open it.

Len enjoyed silence. More often than not, he found it a useful tool to read others, understand what they weren’t saying. Observing people had become a habit, one he didn’t mind partaking in whether he was working for an angle or simply sharing someone’s company. Making the other person squirm in their seat was also a shameless perk, one he’d used on Barry himself many times before they’d started…whatever this was.

He was beginning to understand why people called silence “stifling”.

The box opened under Barry’s fingers, the cardboard tearing as he withdrew a large Band-Aid (he considered it a mercy that Barry hadn’t brought out his ridiculous cartoon-style Band-Aids). The harsh noise caused Len to shut his eyes for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

Barry’s fiddling with the paper surrounding the Band-Aid paused. Len glanced away, focusing on the pictures on the opposite wall of the apartment. Iris’ smiling face seemed to glare at him accusingly.

“What for?” He didn’t sound enthused by the apology.

“I shouldn’t have left without saying anything.”

Barry snorted. Len’s eyes flitted toward him involuntarily. “You really think that’s why I’m mad?”

They both knew the answer to that.

Barry set the Band-Aid and the box on the coffee table with a sigh when Len remained silent. “Len…”

He hated the soft tone, the sadness edging on disappointment he didn’t want to voice. Len clenched his jaw.

“I get it,” Barry said. “I do. If it had been Joe or Iris, I would’ve -” He huffed another sigh. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

Len knew that. He didn’t need it confirmed out loud, not when he’d been staring down the barrel of a gun an hour ago, preparing plan after plan in his head after Plans A through D had flopped because he couldn’t fail, not when it was -

“You almost died.”

“I know.”

That didn’t satisfy Barry; for the first time since they’d returned home he raised his voice. “Len, if I hadn’t gotten there you would’ve - !”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do!”

Len faced him, gritting his teeth against the pain in his neck. The bruises weren’t fully healed yet. “This wasn’t the first time, kid,” he reminded him, “and it won’t be the last. Kind of comes with the job description.”

Barry ran a hand through his hair, his eyes bright with emotion. Len was tempted, despite his rising irritation, to seize the hand and hold it against his chest. “You left without telling me and if Cisco hadn’t been alerted -”

“Still not sure how I feel about Ramon getting alerts every time I fire the damn gun.”

“Well, I’m glad he did!” Barry snapped. “Len, if I hadn’t gotten there in time -”

His stomach churned. “I was handling it.”

“You almost died, damn it!”

Len made to stand but this time he couldn’t hide the grimace as his ribs protested. Barry pulled him back onto the couch, his frustration giving way quickly to concern. The barely-there pressure of his hands on Len’s shoulders only served to wrench the knife twisting in his insides, light and cautious, as if Len were a priceless figure on the verge of toppling off the high shelf.

Barry must have sensed the reason the tension returned to Len’s shoulders. He slid his hands away, moving them to rest beside Len’s thigh. If he was gearing up for another attempt at a lecture, Len wasn’t in the mood.

However, before he could put an end to the argument, Barry whispered, “She’s okay, Len. She’s going to be okay.”

Len shut his eyes.

“I mean it.”

He didn’t doubt that, of course he didn’t. He saw the way the team at the labs had warmed - some slower than others - to his and Lisa’s (and, on the rare occasion, Mick’s) presence. The hand Cisco had laid on his shoulder earlier in spite of knowing how easily he could’ve slapped it aside or frozen it proved as much. Caitlin’s steady reassurances - even as she scolded him and Mick about not pulling their new stitches - didn’t leave him concerned about leaving his sister under the doctor’s watchful eye. She’d be fine. He knew that.

The memory of Lisa’s half-conscious snarl directed at the Santinis still swam behind his eyelids.

“Hey.” A warm hand slid into his and Len bit back a (pathetic) noise as he opened his eyes.

Barry squeezed his fingers, careful not to damage the bruised skin of his knuckles. The soft smile shouldn’t have made his chest throb.

“She’ll be okay,” Barry repeated. “Mick too.”

Mick would be fine. The man had sustained far worse injuries than a concussion, some caused indirectly by Len himself. Remembering Mick’s abandonment wasn’t going to help the situation, though.

“I’m sorry,” Len said.

Barry stared, the sad downward slant of his lips deepening as he searched Len’s face. Not to look for honesty - there was no need for that tonight, not when neither had the energy to lie - but for some form of understanding, perhaps.

I couldn’t let them hurt you too, he wanted to say.

If he found what he was looking for, Barry didn’t show it. He reached for the discarded Band-Aid with his free hand and sent Len a thin smile.

“Hold still?”

Len hesitated only a moment before squeezing Barry’s fingers in lieu of answering aloud, watching a glimmer of humor brighten those eyes more than the unshed tears that lingered. He didn’t object when Barry let go of his hand to open the Band-Aid, smoothing it over the skin above his brow before taking one of his hands again. He had a feeling Barry needed the comfort almost as much as he did.

#coldflash #sproutwings #my writing #the flash #leonard snart #barry allen #i'm on a roll with len being broody with these prompts lol #mentions of violence #and bruises #if that squicks anybody

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bonsboo · 7 years

Text

Thread [II]

- COUNT; 1913 words

- THEMES; greek mythology | supernatural

- PAIRING; demon!jungkook | hunter!reader

- WARNINGS; violence | foul language

Harsh, synthetic lights glared down on me as I slid past Harold’s assistant into the chicken’s coup.

Some poor pitiful humans might metaphorically compare the office to a lion’s den. A lion that hadn’t been fed for a couple months and was growling for the taste of flesh between his teeth.

But I’m not human.

I knew the real Harold Minute - and he wasn’t the cunning predator people imagined him to be.

He was more squawk, less bite.

“Sir,” she bowed respectfully to her superior, “Miss Dane Joe,” she read from her tablet but paused to look over to me as if to ask if that was really my name, before shaking it off and carrying on, “Miss Joe is here to see you.”

Harold merely held up a single finger to silence his employee while he chuckled into the phone against his ear and began to tell his conversation partner a story about recently getting a valet fired at an extremely expensive restaurant.

The assistant sent an apologetic tight lipped smile my way and gestured to the brown leather chair in front of his desk, which I took without hesitation, making myself comfy immediately.

After rearranging some objects on Harold’s desk - working around his propped up feet - the redhead finally left the room, giving you a sympathetic smile that said ‘good luck’.

The door thudded shut and the handsome blonde haired man continued his conversation, even though our meeting had officially begun 7 minutes and 28 seconds ago and I had arrived early.

I absentmindedly pulled at a loose thread from the stitching of the leather chair I was sat on. Poor thing was falling apart. The very thing that held it together coming undone.

My astute senses allowed me to listen to the shuffling steps of the redhead while she walked further away from the room, leaving us to our privacy.

Only when she was a safe distance away did I stand, not yet grabbing the attention of CEO Goldilocks. He gazed comfortably out of the window, relaxed and content.

That needed to change.

Every pad of my boots against the posh wooden flooring seemed to draw his attention away from his phone call and more to me. By the time I had reached his side of the desk and was stoically resting against it, I doubt he was able to register any word from the other end of the line.

“Put the phone down.”

He mumbled a farewell into the device before sliding the red button and throwing it onto the table, leaning back with a sly smirk littering his face. “Anything else you want me to do?”

“Yes. I would appreciate it if your attention didn’t stray from now on. We have important matters to discuss.” He disobeyed almost immediately, eyes falling down to the tight material against my legs and climbing back up reluctantly to my cold eyes.

I stood up straight then, narrowly avoiding his large paw from squeezing my thigh. He grumbled and leaned forward, spinning his chair to face me as I looked out of the glass wall. “What was it you wanted again?”

At least his focus was solely on me now.

“To rectify a mistake.” His muddy orbs flickered up to my own when I peaked over my shoulder at his reaction.

Goldilocks stood up to his full height, a few inches taller than I was, taking off his suit jacket and flinging it on his desk. His eyes gleamed like this was favourite type of foreplay. “What did you do?”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything.” My entire body turned to him now as he moved closer to look down on me. I let my delicate fingers trail up his bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You’re the one who made the mistake.”

Within seconds, my grasp was on his throat and his trachea was being crushed by my delicate fingers.

He croaked and clawed at my grip, helplessly trying to free himself from my merciless hold and failing every time. His human strength was nothing compared to mine.

Shades of pink saturated his face, sending trickles of pleasure throughout my body. Down my arm, across my shoulders. Was I a sadist? Maybe. Did I get the job done? Always.

“I know what you did.” Every time he would try to choke out a word I would only add more pressure, leaving him vulnerable to my deceivingly sweet whispers. “I know you made a deal.” Teasingly, I stoked a fingernail down his hot, tearstained cheek. “With the Devil.”

I released my hold completely and let the now purple-faced idiot fall to the ground, gasping for more oxygen than he could take in.

Always wanting too much.

“Or at least one of his minions, anyway.” Like a beast playing with their food, I circled him with an predatory smile. “The Sisters don’t like it when people make deals with those creatures. It changed things. It ruins their well thought out plans. Makes their job a lot more difficult, which in turn makes mine a lot more difficult.”

Eventually he found the strength to talk. “Y/n. They told me you’d come after me.” I fought against the instinctual twitch and need to run away because of the fact that a pathetic human knew my real name. I rolled my neck instead, preparing my muscles for a potential fight. He breathed out a strained laugh, too exhausted to be wary.

“It’s a shame they left you with no protection, then. What good business partners they are.” It was then that his dull eyes looked up at me, glinting mischievously.

A lazy smirk graced his features, “But they did.”

A crack broke through the room, leaving a splintered door hanging from its hinges. Through the threshold came two monstrously tall men, both dressed in burgundy suits with large knives in their hands. I could recognise the detailing anywhere; a ruby encrusted hilt and a sharp, golden streaked point.

An Abyssus Blade. The only weapon that could kill someone like me.

“Don’t just stand there, you fools! Kill her!” Goldilocks dragged himself away as much as he could, leaving me stood with only the desk between the burly men and I.

They reacted quickly, one throwing his knife at my head, which I dodged and allowed to lodge itself into a cabinet behind me. The other ran up, swiping at my body with his weapon.

I reached for the closest thing to me and my fingertips brushed against Harold’s desk chair. I lifted it up and swung it at the creature, a wheel smacking into his temple and effectively knocking him unconscious.

The first guy’s eyes filled up with a familiar inky black liquid as his gaze fixed on me, moving determinedly around the desk. But his slow and calculated movements didn’t last long and soon he raised his arm, blade in hand. He struck down hard, but didn’t manage to perpetrate his intention, with my agile limbs blocking every attack. He attempted to punch and kick and swing at my body, repetitively following a sequence that I managed to pick up on. He didn’t even last as long as the other one.

I caught him off guard, literally catching his flying fist in mid air, and sent him a gift back in the form of a powerful blow to the stomach. While his body bent over, I gripped his hair tight, keeping his face in place as I drove my knee up into it a few times, until he started getting heavier and I let go of him completely. That’s all it took for the creature to flop to the floor as dead weight, like his friend.

With a grimace at all the blood coating my clothes now, I flicked my hand to see if I could get any of the warm liquid off of it.

Harold stumbled back, realising that his bodyguards had been practically effortlessly knocked out, bracing himself against the glass pane of the window. His breaths were rapid and deep.

Four long strides forward and my hand encircled his throat once again. I pushed him back with so much force that the window shattered under the pressure, shards scattering all over the floor or falling to the pavement below, allowing me to hold his quaking body above the 17 story drop.

The chilled waves of numbing air blew my short dark hair back, giving my victim the chance to peer into the icy eyes of his assassinator.

“Please-” He barely managed to squawk while I played with the inevitable end of his life. “Please.”

I was about to release him, this time letting him fall to his fate, but a voice interrupted me. “Oh, its you again!”

I didn’t turn, but in the fragmented window I saw a familiar sight. Flaming skin, obsidian markings. It was haunting me.

The facade in the window shards stalked closer, “This is the business you’re here for?” His question was so casual, amused almost - reminding me exactly of who he was.

Elevator stranger.

Of course, when I turn my head to acknowledge his presence, he looked completely different to the reflections I had seen in the elevator doors and the shattered window - but exactly the same as how I’d seen him the first time. A tall dark haired man with snow kissed skin and chestnut eyes. He didn’t appear to be affected by the sight of me holding the CEO of a multimillion dollar company out of a window so easily with one hand.

And then the puzzle piece fit.

“Back up, demon.” I hiss and narrow my eyes, he seemed too comfortable to be standing in a room with an assassin who’s main mission in life was to destroy his kind and their ways of contorting the fates. The fact that I had the upperhand should have at least been unsettling for him. “I was just getting to the fun part.”

His lips titled up in return, but he didn’t speak when he started moving closer to us.

The demon’s dark brown eyes were pulsing a tranquil energy through me: it was hypnotising.

I couldn’t look away. Physically, I couldn’t turn my head away and it felt as if invisible hands were holding it in place. His sight never strayed from mine too. For fuck sake, he knew.

“Help me.” Goldilocks spurted, reminding me of our position. He tried kicking out at me, but he was losing consciousness.

I couldn’t clench my fist tighter around his air supply, but I also couldn’t let go completely. I was frozen in place. I couldn’t end this piece of shit’s life if I tried.

Elevator stranger was close now, and I clenched my teeth when he reached up to touch the arm that was holding Harold out of the window.

Heat ignited on my stone limb where his fingers pressed against my jumper. Sliding, they were. Sliding slowly down to my wrist like a serpent slithering in the blistering heat. All the while, hot cocoa and an unquenchable forest fire were all I could see.

“Let him live, y/n.” The demon whispered, his breath warming my cooled face.

And for some reason, I did what he told me to do.

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365footballorg-blog · 6 years

Text

Man City put five 'beautiful, beautiful' goals past Burnley

Manager Pep Guardiola praised his Manchester City side for their “beautiful, beautiful goals” as they remained top of the Premier League with a convincing win over Burnley.

Sparkling finishes from Bernardo Silva, Fernandinho and Riyad Mahrez, in particular, caught the eye as City maintained their 100% home record this season.

“After we scored the second goal and third quickly it was much easier,” Guardiola said.

“The finish from Bernardo was not easy. The goals were so outstanding – beautiful, beautiful goals – and the chances we created, and it’s three more points.”

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Guardiola’s side were briefly knocked off the summit by Chelsea’s draw with Manchester United earlier on Saturday, but opened up a two-point lead before Liverpool moved level on points with a 1-0 win at Huddersfield in the late kick-off.

City’s procession towards the three points was initially held up by Clarets keeper Joe Hart, making his first return to Etihad Stadium after ending his 12-year stay in the summer.

Hart, a huge crowd favourite during his spell at the club, made superb first-half stops to deny Sergio Aguero and David Silva, but was powerless to stop Aguero firing home as the duo combined to round off a neat passing move. Hart’s afternoon was to get a lot worse.

What happened in the Premier League on Saturday?[1]

The best Premier League stats[2]

Reaction to Saturday’s games[3]

Burnley barely threatened before half-time but their hopes were only truly extinguished when City added two more goals in two minutes shortly before the hour mark.

There was some controversy about City’s second goal, which came after Leroy Sane went down in the area under a challenge by Jack Cork.

Referee Jon Moss waved play on but the Burnley defence stopped, allowing Silva to retrieve the ball before it ran out of play and cross for Silva to sweep home.

Burnley manager Sean Dyche and his players continued to protest as the game resumed, although it was unclear whether they felt the game had been stopped, or that the ball had gone behind before Silva reached it.

It clearly played on the Clarets’ minds, however, and their usual defensive organisation was nowhere to be seen when, seconds later, a corner was cleared as far as Fernandinho on the edge of the area and he found a sublime finish.

From that point, the game was over as a contest, although the City fans still had more reasons to celebrate, firstly when a fit-again Kevin de Bruyne appeared off the bench for his first appearance since the opening weekend of the season.

There were more goals to come as Fernandinho teed up Riyad Mahrez to curl home a superb fourth goal late on, and Sane converted a Benjamin Mendy cross.

Hart makes unhappy return

Hart, 31, had to contend with Cardiff fans chanting “England’s number four” at him during Burnley’s last away game, but got a much warmer reception on his return to his former home.

Even Guardiola, who loaned him out for two seasons before selling him last summer, wrote some affectionate words about the England international in his programme notes.

Hart, who won every major domestic honour during his time at City, was given a standing ovation by the home fans before the game, but the occasion will not be remembered for his fine saves to keep out Aguero’s acrobatic volley or Silva’s close-range header.

Hart would have been hoping for a clean sheet that became his trademark during his time at City – he managed 82 on home turf alone.

Instead, on his 180th appearance here, and his first as an opposition player, he conceded five goals at Etihad Stadium for the first time.

“There is a feeling of frustration in my chest right now,” Hart said. “The crowd reaction was nice but I came here as a Burnley player. It was far from a perfect day.”

However, there was little he could do about any of the goals, with Burnley’s usually solid defence looking particularly brittle in the second half, and collapsing completely by the end.

Dyche lists Burnley grievances

Burnley did not manage a single shot on target and Dyche accepted his side were well beaten, but felt big decisions went against them at “key moments” of the game.

That started in the very first minute, when Vincent Kompany’s reckless challenge on Burnley winger Aaron Lennon saw the City captain booked.

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Dyche said: “Kompany is out of control and he does not know where the man is, or the ball. It is just a throw of the leg and it is high – Aaron has got a cut with two stitches in it, high in his thigh.

“It is not vicious or anything but there is no control in the challenge and we are told that is a big thing in challenges like that, so in the modern game that is a red card.”

While Dyche felt his players were at fault for switching off for City’s second goal, he was adamant it should not have stood, with Hart also saying the assistant referee apologised to him later.

Dyche said: “Sane goes down with the tiniest of touches and the referee is going to blow his whistle, but then decides not to and waves it away.

“In the meantime a player who is off the pitch has walked back on the pitch to go and get the ball that is off the pitch to deliver a cross that they then score from. If that is not confusing for everyone in the stadium, it is certainly confusing for me.

“I thought it at the time, and I have seen it back since. With the best view that we can get of it, the ball is out of play, so you can forget about everything else.”

Dyche also felt Sane should have been sent off late on for a challenge on Matt Lowton.

“With Sane right at the end, it has got to be a red card,” Dyche added. “He kicked Matt for no reason at all, just smashing him around his legs. It has got to be a red card, as simple as that.”

Man of the match – Riyad Mahrez (Manchester City)

<!–

Five goals again for City – the stats

Manchester City are now unbeaten in their past 34 Premier League games kicking off at 3pm on a Saturday – the longest such run in the competition (W30 D4).

This was City’s 23rd Premier League victory by a margin of five goals or more – 10 of them have been under manager Pep Guardiola.

This was just Burnley’s fourth Premier League defeat by five or more goals – half of them have been against City.

There were only 115 seconds between City’s second and third goals.

City’s David Silva provided more than one assist in a Premier League game for the 12th time. Only Ryan Giggs (17), Cesc Fabregas (17) and Thierry Henry (13) have done so in more.

City’s Sergio Aguero has scored seven goals in seven games in all competitions against Burnley, including in all four appearances against them at the Etihad.

Silva has assisted Sergio Aguero more than any other City player in all competitions (20).

City’s Fernandinho scored and assisted in a Premier League game for only the second time, also doing so against West Brom in October 2017.

What’s next?

Manchester City travel to Ukraine to face Shakhtar Donetsk in the Champions League on Tuesday (20:00 BST).

City face Tottenham at Wembley on Monday 29 October (20:00 GMT), while Burnley welcome Chelsea to Stamford Bridge on Sunday, 28 October (13:30 GMT).

Line-ups[4]

Match Stats[5]

Live Text[6]

Line-ups

Man City

31Ederson

5Stones

4KompanyBooked at 1mins

14Laporte

22Mendy

20Bernardo SilvaSubstituted forDe Bruyneat 58'minutes

25Fernandinho

21SilvaSubstituted forFodenat 75'minutes

26Mahrez

10AgüeroSubstituted forGabriel Jesusat 66'minutes

19SanéBooked at 81mins

Substitutes

7Sterling

17De Bruyne

30Otamendi

33Gabriel Jesus

35Zinchenko

47Foden

49Muric

Burnley

20Hart

2Lowton

5Tarkowski

6Mee

3Taylor

7Berg Gudmundsson

16DefourSubstituted forBarnesat 75'minutes

4CorkBooked at 11mins

25LennonSubstituted forWestwoodat 69'minutes

13HendrickBooked at 32mins

9VokesSubstituted forWoodat 69'minutes

Substitutes

1Heaton

10Barnes

11Wood

18Westwood

26Bardsley

27Vydra

28Long

Referee:

Jonathan Moss

Attendance:

54,094

Match Stats

Home TeamMan CityAway TeamBurnley

Possession

Home69%

Away31%

Shots

Home24

Away5

Shots on Target

Home10

Away0

Corners

Home10

Away1

Fouls

Home11

Away5

Live Text

Posted at

Match ends, Manchester City 5, Burnley 0.

Full Time

Posted at 90'+4'

Second Half ends, Manchester City 5, Burnley 0.

Goal!

Posted at 90'

Goal! Manchester City 5, Burnley 0. Leroy Sané (Manchester City) left footed shot from the centre of the box to the bottom right corner. Assisted by Benjamin Mendy with a cross.

Posted at 89'

Phil Foden (Manchester City) wins a free kick in the attacking half.

Posted at 89'

Foul by Ashley Westwood (Burnley).

Posted at 87'

Attempt blocked. Phil Foden (Manchester City) left footed shot from a difficult angle on the right is blocked. Assisted by Riyad Mahrez.

Posted at 87'

Corner, Manchester City. Conceded by Ben Mee.

Goal!

Posted at 83'

Goal! Manchester City 4, Burnley 0. Riyad Mahrez (Manchester City) left footed shot from outside the box to the top left corner. Assisted by Fernandinho.

Posted at 83'

Aymeric Laporte (Manchester City) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Posted at 83'

Foul by James Tarkowski (Burnley).

Posted at 82'

Foul by Phil Foden (Manchester City).

Posted at 82'

Charlie Taylor (Burnley) wins a free kick on the left wing.

Booking

Posted at 81'

Leroy Sané (Manchester City) is shown the yellow card for a bad foul.

Posted at 81'

Foul by Leroy Sané (Manchester City).

Posted at 81'

Matthew Lowton (Burnley) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Posted at 78'

Corner, Manchester City. Conceded by James Tarkowski.

Posted at 77'

Leroy Sané (Manchester City) wins a free kick on the left wing.

Posted at 77'

Foul by Matthew Lowton (Burnley).

Posted at 76'

Attempt saved. Gabriel Jesus (Manchester City) header from very close range is saved in the centre of the goal. Assisted by Phil Foden.

Substitution

Posted at 75'

Substitution, Burnley. Ashley Barnes replaces Steven Defour.

Substitution

Posted at 75'

Substitution, Manchester City. Phil Foden replaces David Silva.

Posted at 73'

Attempt blocked. Kevin De Bruyne (Manchester City) right footed shot from outside the box is blocked. Assisted by David Silva.

Posted at 70'

Foul by David Silva (Manchester City).

Posted at 70'

Jack Cork (Burnley) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Substitution

Posted at 69'

Substitution, Burnley. Chris Wood replaces Sam Vokes.

Substitution

Posted at 69'

Substitution, Burnley. Ashley Westwood replaces Aaron Lennon.

Posted at 68'

Attempt missed. Sam Vokes (Burnley) header from the centre of the box is too high. Assisted by Johann Berg Gudmundsson with a cross following a corner.

Posted at 68'

Corner, Burnley. Conceded by Vincent Kompany.

Substitution

Posted at 66'

Substitution, Manchester City. Gabriel Jesus replaces Sergio Agüero.

Posted at 65'

Attempt saved. Sergio Agüero (Manchester City) right footed shot from the right side of the box is saved in the centre of the goal. Assisted by David Silva.

Posted at 63'

Foul by Benjamin Mendy (Manchester City).

Posted at 63'

Johann Berg Gudmundsson (Burnley) wins a free kick in the defensive half.

Posted at 62'

Attempt saved. Riyad Mahrez (Manchester City) left footed shot from the right side of the box is saved in the centre of the goal. Assisted by Kevin De Bruyne with a through ball.

Posted at 60'

Foul by David Silva (Manchester City).

Posted at 60'

Johann Berg Gudmundsson (Burnley) wins a free kick in the attacking half.

Substitution

Posted at 58'

Substitution, Manchester City. Kevin De Bruyne replaces Bernardo Silva.

Goal!

Posted at 56'

Goal! Manchester City 3, Burnley 0. Fernandinho (Manchester City) right footed shot from outside the box to the top right corner following a corner.

Posted at 56'

Corner, Manchester City. Conceded by James Tarkowski.

Goal!

Posted at 54'

Goal! Manchester City 2, Burnley 0. Bernardo Silva (Manchester City) left footed shot from the centre of the box to the top left corner. Assisted by David Silva.

Posted at 52'

Corner, Manchester City. Conceded by James Tarkowski.

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goal

References

^ What happened in the Premier League on Saturday? (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ The best Premier League stats (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Reaction to Saturday’s games (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Line-ups (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Match Stats (www.bbc.co.uk)

^ Live Text (www.bbc.co.uk)

BBC Sport – Football

Man City put five 'beautiful, beautiful' goals past Burnley was originally published on 365 Football

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